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𝚇𝚇𝚅 >> 𝚃𝙷𝙴 𝙲𝙰𝙿𝙰𝙲𝙸𝚃𝚈 𝙾𝙵 𝙵𝚁𝙰𝙼𝙴𝚂

< 2 MONTHS, 2 WEEKS >

The prognosis is reached that the culprit of the Polyjuice predicament is likely using dragonfly thoraxes for strengthening purposes. Of course, as per usual, Severus has reached this denouement of the problem by himself and will go about dispelling it as such.

He does not know what he can use in an antidote to combat this strength. This ingredient is rare to use and also less commonly studied; it may be best to collect all the knowledge he can get.

And this brings him to the front door of Horace Slughorn's piteous residence yet again. Because if anyone is to have anything on the ingredient, this man will keep it hidden in his house behind his rows and rows of photographs.

Remus, of course, is standing beside him. Snape can't approbate to do anything now without the man; he's become a new appendage that cannot be separated. He clearly can barely function without him and seems to rely on him more now than his own legs. This is endorsed and noticed by both of them, a silently mutual liaison, and time spent apart is growing thin and weak. It is rare that they are away from one another at all other than to sleep and to teach. After work hours, one of them is nearly always in the other's armchair. Any adventure being taken by one is accompanied by the other without even a question about it. If Severus needs to visit Slughorn's empty home, Lupin will do it with him ere he is even asked.

Remus is more disreputable than usual this evening, the afternoon snow falling over him like ashes. Scruff has formed on his jaw and across his face. It makes him look older somehow; messier in the face of winter. His sweater today is cable-knit and cream-colored. All around he appears very warm, and his looks are never deceiving.

He pushes the door open with no cunctation this time, not bothering to check the letterbox again nor guard its contents. Severus follows him in to escape the brisk air, but is simply met with more of it as they step inside. Warming the home with a flick of his wand, he goes immediately to work in search of information of any useful sort.

There are more books in his office than Severus remembers noticing last time, but this is likely attributed to his past mental preoccupations. Now, he has the time to truly study every binding and title; to open and decipher every single page.

He starts on one end of a room as Remus starts on the other, both of them scanning everything for the mere word "dragonfly," which is unfortunately sporadic in this office so far. The writings themselves do seem to be more advanced and potion-related, however, so Snape assumes it won't be too long before what they need is located.

Remus flips rapidly through the pages like his life depends on his speed. He checks the appendices as urgently as if he may be a secretary in a bind, and what an inimical secretary he would be. Snape, although he forces himself to admit how much he adores him, knows fully that it would be impossible to get the man to promptly complete any task in a way that is of any sort professional. It would all be smiles and jokes and days where he is slow and carefree. Time does not seem to be an object for Remus Lupin. He has all the time in the world to do anything. He has the rest of his life, and he's only twenty-one years in.

"Have any of your occupations ever resided in an office, Remus?" Severus asks as he more methodically looks through each and every book. Lupin glances up, not used to Snape asking him personal questions out of genuine interest, but he says nothing of it and replies.

"Now and again, office jobs are the only ones that will take me," he replies. "But they never last. When I take days off for my lycanthropy and have to make up excuses, they start getting suspicious at it all. I've been asked to quit more times than I can count. I've been fired about four times now."