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𝚇𝚇𝙸𝚅 >> 𝙳𝙰𝚁𝙺𝙽𝙴𝚂𝚂 𝙸𝙽 𝚃𝚆𝙾 𝙸𝙽𝚂𝚃𝙰𝙽𝙲𝙴𝚂

< 2 MONTHS, 1 WEEK, 5 DAYS >

"Good morning, Severus," a voice murmurs, awakening Snape from a sleep he remembers much of. His eyes open, and he looks up to see Remus leaning over him in the morning sunlight — a sight he hadn't known he was missing out on until just now. "I would have let you sleep, but if I'm not mistaken, it is Tuesday the twelfth, and you have a job to attend."

"Where did you learn how to braid hair?" Snape asks disconnectedly, and Remus sits up.

"What?"

"You braided my hair," Severus says, "in the dream. The first one. You know how to braid. For what reason? For which purpose?"

Remus furrows his brow. "This... is what you're worried about? Severus, the sun is coming up. You're likely already late."

Snape stands up with a sigh, undoing the buttons on the shirt he slept in and wishing some new clothes to him. "Delocaponum," he mutters, bringing a pristine and unused shirt to his arms and sending his worn one home. "Yes, Remus. Spare your surprise when you come to find out that I may be at least intrigued." He is intensely aware of Lupin's eyes on his undraped chest, but pays no mind to it. "Is it... was it... a sister? A friend? A... a... woman?"

"It was my mother," Remus replies. "I braided her hair. It's why I've got hair ties and why I still know how. And I never did it to friends. Sirius never let me."

"Hm," Severus says with a raised brow. "Unfair of him. He'd look... potentially tolerable in one." He takes a breath and pulls his shirt on. "But he is in confinement eternally, so I opine that it is too late now to know."

"Yes," Remus agrees absently, seeming to be lost in thought as his eyes rove to Snape's defenseless wrist, which is an intermittent sight. He takes it all in before buttons are pushed over it again. "May I see your arm?"

Severus stops, looking down at his wrist and remembering for the first time in a while that there is indeed an insignia on its skin. He had forgotten in all this time that it was there at all; the one reason he's ever decided to wear tight clothes other than his own subconscious preferences. And it's been seen now, so there isn't much point forbearing it.

He breathes in, not quite liking to look at it, and rolls up his sleeve. Remus stands up and approaches, taking Snape's forearm in his reverent hold and looking down at the markings. His eyes are delved into a flurry of allurement, curiosity, openness. Severus feels like a effigy of a killer.

"I've never seen one up close other than in drawings," Lupin murmurs, one of his thumbs stroking itself softly over the skin. "The colors are bolder in person. They always said you had one, you know, in school. Many didn't believe such a thing. But I am not surprised to see it now."

"A moral disgrace," Severus spits. "Condolences. You've opened your heart and home to a rot. Hope it does not catch itself upon your perennials."

"Rot is necessary to nature, you know," comes the reply, and Remus' eyes flicker up to his. "I do not think you are evil. I think you are brave."

Snape's lips twitch quickly upward. "Do take your time to explain to me how those are entirely separate circumstances."

Remus returns this with a smile. "If you were truly evil, you would not have the regret you do now. Would you proclaim yourself to be terrible if it was true, or would you proclaim yourself to be right?"

Severus scowls. "Are you comforting me with philosophy?"

"Clearly not comforting you at all," Remus refutes. "Trying."