𝙳𝙴𝙻𝙾𝙲𝙰𝙿𝙾𝙽𝚄𝙼 » 𝚂𝚂/𝚁𝙻

𝚇𝚇𝚇𝙸 >> 𝚉𝚈𝙶𝙿𝙷𝙸𝙻'𝚂 𝙰𝚆𝙰𝙺𝙴𝙽𝙸𝙽𝙶

< 3 MONTHS, 2 DAYS >

Glass jars are scattered all over Lupin's secretly-broken table today. Clear and full of a dark blue presence, they bleed the knowledge of tormented blood. It is Wolfsbane within the jars, and its effects are being monitored as Severus administers their doses in Lupin's bedroom.

His thin fingers hold the glass bottle to Remus' lips, tipping it, making sure everything goes down and stays there. His other hand rests beneath the man's chin, which, although it is not terribly close to its shift, is clammy and weak.

"Drink it all at once, if possible," he encourages, but Remus only takes small sips, perhaps out of resentment at extra orders regarding this already terrible process. "Tastes less on the way down."

"And you're the expert on taking it, now, aren't you?" Remus shoots back. "It's no better in a short period. Although your addition of vanilla has aided it to a slight degree."

"Anything for a helpless dog," Severus replies jokingly, though it is true. He would do nearly anything under the sun for Remus Lupin. Regardless of it all. He caresses his fingers over Remus' forehead, brushing the scruffy hair out of it. He doesn't tell him he needs a haircut. He rather likes it when it just reaches his eyes.

Lupin sighs at the contact, closing his eyes as he lays on his back and faces his own ceiling. "You're being so kind to me today."

"You're sick," Snape replies, as if it's a ridiculous observation. "Of course I am."

Remus shakes his head. "I'm not sick. I feel fine."

"You won't in the upcoming days; I recommend taking it easy," Severus replies. "Additionally, I've hurt you." He takes the empty potion jar as Remus downs the last of it, setting it back on the table and turning back to him. "You deserve me on my best behavior."

The sun sprinkles itself over them both. It's enough to make the room feel warmer than it is; enough for Lupin to consider packing all his winter blankets away into storage again. He watches Snape's hand as it reaches over and strokes his face, knowing the loopholes in the statement and not letting them remain ignored.

He smiles and closes his eyes again. The sun bounces off of him like water. "I fell in love with your worst."

Severus looks down at him for a long time. The words do something to him — something good that makes him warm and tense — and he doesn't comment on them in case he ruins the nebulosity of their perfection. He must leave them exactly as they are.

He watches him, sighing and grabbing the jar again. "I have to go to work."

He stands up, barely surprised when Lupin grabs his wrist and opens his eyes to look back into his.

"Stay with me a bit."

Snape sets his jaw. "I can't."

This is not something to be argued with. There's no point. Severus isn't leaving forever. Both know he must be back by tomorrow morning at the latest for the potion process. But they also both know that he'd rather return before.

Snape leans over him, kissing him on the forehead where he's brushed the hair away. "See you soon," he promises. He leaves the house without another word, the Gryffindor scarf tight around his neck.

The halls of Hogwarts are quiet as he enters them, shivering and tense from the cold, and he wastes no time scampering up the stairs and in the direction of the hospital wing. The silence of the corridors is less comforting than it would typically be to his auditory overstimulation; it takes a rare occasion for everything to be entirely this placid, even with classes in session. The added observation that Minerva hasn't been awaiting him somewhere to relay the gist of everything also suggests she may have bigger things to worry about, which unsettles him. It's like walking into an empty house at the end of a war.