Severely Moonstruck - 12. Draught of Living Death

They lay on the sofa in the Room of Requirement, pressed tightly together. Remus kissed the spot just below Severus’s ear, followed by a gentle lick, and the other swore softly. Remus smiled.

Somehow they had managed to avoid going any further as of yet, but Remus’s patience was wearing thin, and he knew Severus’s was too. Now Severus reached inside Remus’s robes, fingers ghosting over his shirt, stopping just shy of the buttons. Remus pulled back a bit and licked his lips.

‘You . . . you can if you want to,’ he whispered.

‘I want to,’ said Severus, and then he began to unbutton Remus’s shirt. It fell open to reveal Remus’s chest, and Severus ran his hands over his skin. ‘Warm,’ he murmured, and Remus let out a shaky breath.

‘Not fair, though. You’re fully dressed.’ He reached out to do the same to Severus. Then he pulled him against him, down on top of him, so they were skin to skin at last. Soft. Warm. Perfect.

‘Are we done holding back, then?’ asked Severus.

‘I . . . I don’t know. That’s . . . up to you, really, I think.’ Remus licked his lips.

Severus frowned. ‘Why up to me?’ Remus blushed, looking away, and Severus answered his own question. ‘Because you have experience, and I do not.’

‘I’m sorry. Don’t—’

‘No, it’s all right,’ said Severus softly. They both sat up. ‘I know you have . . . I’m not in the habit of lying to myself.’ He paused. ‘Well, clearly I am. But I don’t want to. It’s not something I like to think about, but it is something I have to accept.’

Remus hesitated. ‘Would it bother you less if it wasn’t Sirius?’

‘Probably,’ said Severus frankly. ‘If I lie to myself, I have no intention of lying to you. Our dislike for each other is no secret, and I hate him even more for hurting you.’

‘Yeah.’ Remus nodded. ‘I’m . . . not exactly happy with him myself.’ He sighed. ‘We’ve killed the mood, haven’t we?’ He glanced at Severus to find that rare, secret smile.

‘I’m sure we could find some way of rekindling it. I believe it’s getting late, however.’

Remus sighed. ‘Always something.’ All the same, he leaned over to kiss Severus softly on the lips. Severus took his hand, lacing their fingers together.

‘Maybe,’ Severus murmured against his lips, ‘tomorrow we could . . . If you want.’ He kissed Remus again. ‘I . . . want to touch you.’

A shiver ran down Remus’s spine. A good shiver, and he made a soft noise, halfway between whimper and moan. ‘Yes.’ His voice was barely more than a whisper, and he pulled back to find Severus’s pale cheeks tinged with pink. ‘I really want that too.’

When at last they pulled apart, Remus was panting and desperately hard. Leaving the Room of Requirement just then felt like the most difficult thing he had ever had to do. They walked along the corridor together, until they reached the stairs where they would have to part. There was no one around, and so Remus pressed a brief kiss to Severus’s lips. ‘Tomorrow,’ he said.

Severus released a shaky sigh. ‘Tomorrow.’

* * *

It was impossible to concentrate on anything the next day. Remus felt more nervous than he had thought he would. Perhaps it was the anticipation more than anything else. They had agreed to meet in the Room of Requirement after dinner. Remus felt like he could barely breathe, and every time he caught a glimpse of Severus he felt his face flush. His friends noticed how distracted he was, but after the third ‘I’m fine’ they gave up on asking why.

Remus was on his way to dinner when Professor McGonagall found him. ‘Mr. Lupin. I need to see you in my office, please.’

‘Er, yes Professor.’ Remus followed her. What could she want? He knew he had fallen behind on his Prefect duties this year. Was he in trouble?

‘Please, have a seat,’ she said when they reached her office. ‘Tea?’

Remus blinked. He didn’t think McGonagall had ever offered him tea before. Or spoken so kindly to him. The look on her face now was almost motherly. ‘No, thank you, Professor,’ he said, and sat.

‘I’m afraid I have some bad news. We received an owl half an hour ago from your father . . .’

At that moment, Remus knew. He knew what she was about to say, and he didn’t want to hear it, wanted to cover his ears and block it out, because it couldn’t be true. It just couldn’t. He refused to believe it, and as long as she didn’t say it, as long as he didn’t hear it, it would continue to be a lie.

But she did say it. ‘I’m afraid your mother passed away this morning. I’m very sorry. Your father would very much like to speak with you. We’ve opened the floo network for him.’

Remus said nothing. He simply nodded mutely. He sat quietly, staring straight ahead, until, a few minutes later, the fireplace crackled and his father stepped through. Remus glanced up at him. He looked tired and haggard, and his eyes were red. He reached out for his son, and silently Remus got out of his seat and went to him, allowing himself to be embraced.

His father said nothing. They stood there, silent. What was there to say? Eventually, Lyall spoke. ‘I’m sorry,’ he mumbled into his son’s shoulder.

‘Wha—’ Remus cleared his throat. ‘What happened?’

Lyall let go of him. Stepped back. Shook his head. ‘Nothing. Nothing in particular. She was . . . she’d been bedridden for a few days. And this morning she just . . . went.’ His eyes teared up. He looked lost and helpless, and Remus felt suddenly angry. This was his father. He was supposed to keep it together. Remus was the one who was supposed to cry, but he couldn’t. The tears wouldn’t come. ‘I . . . the funeral is Friday. I’d like you to come home until then. If you can.’

Remus swallowed, pushing the anger away. ‘The full moon is Sunday.’

Lyall nodded. ‘We’ll have you back here by then. I know your transformations are . . . easier, when you’re here.’

‘I need to . . .’ Remus swallowed again. He felt sick. ‘I need to do a few things. Before I leave. Give me—’ He took a deep breath and cleared his throat. ‘Just give me a couple of hours and I’ll come.’

His father nodded again, before pulling him into a wordless embrace. ‘I’ll see you soon,’ he said when he let go, and Remus nodded. ‘Thank you, Professor,’ he said to McGonagall, shaking her hand. Then he stepped into the fire and was gone.

Professor McGonagall turned to Remus, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder. ‘You just come back here when you’re ready and I will send you home.’

‘Okay. Thank you, Professor.’

He went straight to the Room of Requirement. Severus wasn’t there yet, so he sat on the sofa before the fire, staring into the embers, for nearly half an hour before he showed up.

‘Remus.’ Severus frowned. ‘What’s wrong?’ He sat down next to Remus and, meeting his gaze, Remus couldn’t hold it in anymore. He fell into Severus’s arms and sobbed into his chest, clinging to his robes. Severus stiffened at first. It was clear that he didn’t know how to deal with another’s grief. But in the end he put his arms firmly around him and stroked his hair. He didn’t speak until Remus had calmed down. Then he said, ‘What happened?’

Remus sat up, wiping his eyes and his nose on the back of his sleeve. ‘It’s . . . my mum.’

He didn’t have to say anything more. Severus understood, and he put his arms around him again and kissed him. ‘I’m sorry. I know she . . . She was important to you.’

Remus nodded. ‘She was. She was the . . . I couldn’t have asked for a better . . .’ He looked up at Severus. ‘She knew. About Sirius, and about you. She never judged me for it. Not for a moment. She loved me for who I was. She . . . she would have loved you, too. I wish you could have met her.’

Severus’s smile looked more like a grimace, but Remus knew it was genuine. ‘Me too,’ he said. ‘From how you speak of her . . . she sounds like a singular woman. I am sure the world is a lesser place for no longer having her in it.’ He shook his head and looked away. ‘I’m sorry. I . . . don’t quite know how to behave in situations like this. What to say.’

‘You don’t have to say anything,’ said Remus. ‘Just . . . Hold me?’

Severus did. He enveloped Remus in his arms and held him silently. Then he let Remus kiss him; hard, desperate kisses. Severus smelled so good. Remus wanted to lose himself in his scent, in him, let himself be taken away, and soon he was pawing at Severus, palming him through his trousers, and Severus hissed, throwing his head back. But then he took Remus’s wrist and pulled his hand away, kissing his palm. ‘No,’ he said softly. ‘Not like this.’

‘Please!’ Remus breathed.

‘Remus, no,’ Severus repeated. His voice was firm, but kind. ‘You have no idea how much I want this, but you’re vulnerable, and if we do this now I will feel as though I’m taking advantage of you. And I never want to do that.’

Remus began to weep again at that. Sirius would never have had any such scruples. Everyone thought Severus was cold, bitter, and perhaps he was. But here he was, refusing to let Remus do something he might regret. Refusing to take advantage of him. Refusing to risk hurting him. Much as he might try to deny it himself, Severus was kind. Now he pulled Remus into a gentle embrace, letting him cry.

‘I . . . I have to go soon,’ Remus said after a while. He sniffed. ‘I’m going home. The funeral’s on Friday. I should be back Saturday, I suppose. Sunday’s the full moon, and my . . . it’s easier, here. For everyone.’

Severus nodded. ‘I understand. I . . . I’ll miss you.’ Again, his cheeks flushed pink, and Remus couldn’t help but smile, cupping one of those cheeks and running his thumb over Severus’s cheekbone. He kissed his lips softly.

‘I’ll miss you too.’

‘Let me know when you’re back? If . . . if you want to see me, I mean.’

‘I can pretty much guarantee I’ll want to see you,’ said Remus and kissed him again.

* * *

Later, Remus would find that he didn’t remember much from the following couple of days. He helped his father go through his mother’s things. They spent some time talking. Not about Remus’s mother, just small talk. Lyall asked Remus about school. They discussed Transfiguration, and defensive spells, and how much time Remus spent studying.

Then came the funeral. It was a small and simple affair. Lyall’s parents were dead, and Hope’s family had long since disowned her. What few friends Remus’s parents had retained were present, and, surprisingly, Professor Dumbledore showed up as well. He didn’t stay long, but he offered his condolences and gave Remus an open invitation to come have tea with him at some point the following week. ‘Professor McGonagall can take you to my office,’ he said.

Among his mother’s possessions was a letter, addressed to Remus. He didn’t have the strength to open it just then, but took it with him back to Hogwarts, unopened. The first thing he did when he got there, around six o’clock Saturday night, was to send Severus an owl.

I’m back. Meet me in half an hour? I’ll be in the Room.

Then he went to his dormitory to drop off his things. To his dismay, all three of his roommates were there. He hadn’t really had time to speak to them before he left, simply leaving a note on James’s pillow telling him what had happened and not to worry. Now James hugged him. ‘I’m sorry, Remus. So, so sorry.’

‘Yeah. Thank you, Prongs.’ Remus sighed.

Peter hugged him, too, which was somewhat unexpected. He had been cuddly when he was younger, but not in the past couple of years. ‘Me too. Really sorry for your loss.’

Sirius did not try to hug him, or touch him, but as Remus put away his things, stowing the letter in the drawer of his nightstand, Sirius cautiously approached and said, ‘Moony. I’m . . . I’m sorry about your mum.’

Remus bit his lip. He wasn’t sure how to respond, but in the end he said, ‘Thank you, Sirius.’ Then he turned and announced to the room, ‘I need some air. Just . . . need to be alone for a bit. I’ll see you later.’

Severus was already there when he reached the Room of Requirement. It had changed a bit since Tuesday, which wasn’t really surprising. Since they had started using it, some details had been altered every other day or so. The biggest change had been the appearance of a small cauldron and various potion making equipment in a corner of the room. Other than that, the sofa had grown a bit, there were more pillows and blankets scattered about, a tea set had randomly appeared one day, the water in the teapot replenishing itself and always the perfect temperature.

This time, a vase had appeared on a spindly table that hadn’t been there before either. It contained white lilies and black roses. It was like the Room was mourning with him, thought Remus. Perhaps it was.

The moment he saw Severus, he fell apart again, unable to even speak. He had been holding it together, for his father, for everyone at the funeral. And it had all seemed so unreal. It had been difficult to truly feel. But now, with Severus, he could let go, let it all out. He trusted Severus implicitly, and when had that happened? When had Severus become the one person Remus could entrust his heart to? The one person he let his guard down with. Severus held him, kissed him, comforted him. No platitudes, no empty words. Just silent compassion and warm comfort.

After a while, Remus could speak again. They sat staring into the fire. Severus held his hand.

‘I knew she wouldn’t live long, you know,’ said Remus. ‘She’s been ill for so long. That hasn’t made this any easier, but . . .’ He smiled wistfully. ‘When I was little she used to play with me all the time. She was so happy and cheerful. Loving and kind. She and Dad, they were happy together. Loved each other. Then I got bit and everything became more difficult. We kept moving around. Wherever we lived, eventually my . . . my howls at the full moon would frighten people or, in the case of wizards, make them suspicious. But Mum stayed the same. She loved me just the same. Dad was distant for a while. He blamed himself. She managed to convince him that it wasn’t his fault, and that I needed him. And even when she fell ill, she was always cheerful, always strong. She was the strong one, the glue that held everything together. Dad and I . . . I don’t know what we’ll do without her.’

Severus listened to him talk, and when Remus fell silent he kissed him and said, ‘I’m sorry. I wish there was something I could say or do to make this better, but I wouldn’t even know where to begin.’

‘You are making it better,’ said Remus. ‘Or, you’re making it easier. Easing the pain. Being with you . . . I feel less alone.’

‘If I can do that,’ said Severus, granting Remus that almost smile of his, ‘then I am happy.’

They kissed for a while. Remus still wanted to tear all Severus’s clothes off, feel his body against his own, touch him and taste him. But he knew this wasn’t the time. He was vulnerable right now. As much as Severus’s scent threatened to drive him crazy, he held back on his longing.

They stayed there, in their room, their space, until curfew. Then they returned to each their common room. Sirius and James were playing chess by the fire, while Peter sat nearby with a novel. Remus greeted them, and then went straight to bed. He couldn’t sleep, and wished he still had some of that sleeping potion Severus had made for him before. Perhaps he could ask for some when they saw each other again, after the full moon. He lay there in the dark, listened as the others went to bed. In the end he cast Severus’s silencing charm and got himself off twice before finally drifting off to sleep.