Severely Moonstruck - 8. Draught of Peace

Little changed as Christmas approached. It became easier to sleep in the dormitory, but Severus brewed him a whole batch of the Potion for Dreamless Sleep all the same. He also brewed a Draught of Peace, which came in handy, as Remus was having quite a bit of anxiety. This kind and caring side of Severus made Remus want him more than ever, but their friendship remained much as it had been, and Severus was still by and large closed off and reserved.

The mood in the dormitory was awkward and strained, with Remus and Sirius ignoring each other. Sirius treaded lightly, and Remus kept his back turned when he could, trying to pretend as much as possible that Sirius wasn’t there. Peter was, if not quite oblivious, fairly carefree about the whole thing. It was as if he thought everything would just blow over any day now. It was hard on James, though. He was angry with Sirius, but he also loved him like a brother, and nothing could change that. Not after all they had been through together. Remus understood that, better than James probably thought he did. He couldn’t be upset with his friend for it, but James tiptoed between the two of them, as though he were afraid one or both of them would be angry with him for speaking to the other.

Lily was on Remus’s side. She didn’t know exactly what had happened, but she knew that it was because Remus was Severus’s friend. And she knew Severus.

‘I’m glad you’re his friend,’ she told Remus one day, when they were walking between lessons by themselves. ‘He’s not always easy to like, and he’s made some truly shitty decisions sometimes, but . . . He’s alone. And he needs someone. He was getting very, very cold, and hard. You know? But now, at least when he’s with you, he seems softer again, somehow.’

Remus smiled. ‘He’s got a good heart, underneath it all.’

‘Exactly. I’m just sorry I couldn’t . . .’ Lily paused, as if trying to find the right words. ‘I wish we could have stayed friends. He was just getting a bit with me like . . . well, like Sirius has been with you. You know? It seems like he’s grown.’

That conversation served as further affirmation of the theory that Severus had been in love with Lily, or at the very least had feelings for her. Had he been unable to take no for an answer, same as Sirius? Or had their parting been caused by something else entirely?

* * *

At the start of December, Remus received an owl with an invitation to a Christmas party Slughorn was throwing for his chosen elite two nights before the end of term. He mentioned this to Severus when they were studying in the library one afternoon.

‘I never go to those things,’ said Severus. ‘They’re crowded and awkward. I went once or twice with . . . With Lily, a couple of years back.’ He looked away, as though embarrassed that he had mentioned her name. ‘Haven’t since. I’d rather drink Bubotuber pus.’

Remus laughed softly. ‘I was thinking it probably wasn’t for me, either,’ he said. ‘Unless we could go together.’

Severus looked at him, eyebrows raised. ‘Together?’

Remus suddenly realised how that had sounded, and hid his blush by looking away. ‘Yeah, I mean, we could stand in a corner and make fun of everyone else. Plus, free food. And if it’s terrible, we can always leave.’

Severus seemed to consider this for a few moments. ‘Not a bad point,’ he conceded at last. ‘Although . . . Do you think Lily will bring Potter?’

Remus sighed. ‘Yeah. Probably.’ They were both quiet for a while. ‘We don’t have to go.’

‘No,’ said Severus. ‘We’ll go. I . . .’ He clenched his teeth, took a deep breath. ‘I’ll have to get used to it. And, like you say. If it’s awful, I can just leave.’

‘We can just leave,’ Remus corrected. ‘Don’t think for a second you get to leave me alone in there.’

‘They’re your friends,’ Severus pointed out.

‘Yeah, but so are you. And I wouldn’t even go if it weren’t for you, so. You leave, I leave.’

Severus gave him his almost smile, and then his real smile followed.

* * *

Remus’s dress robes were not in great shape, but he spruced them up as best he could with needle and thread and a little bit of magic. His parents were not wealthy, and he had learned young how to mend his own clothes. Now it came in handy. At the very least he hadn’t grown out of them. He combed his hair, trying to get his fringe away from his eyes. His hair had nearly grown to shoulder length. He ought to tie it back, but it wasn’t quite long enough for that yet. It would have to do.

He met up with Severus in the entrance hall before the party. He wasn’t sure what he had expected a dressed up Severus Snape to look like, but he was taken by surprise when he saw him.

Like Remus, Severus’s dress robes weren’t exactly high fashion, and a bit on the worn side. But he had washed his black hair and pulled it back into a ponytail, and standing tall like this in his fitted robes he looked . . .

‘You look very handsome,’ said Remus without thinking, and if he hadn’t known better, he would have though Severus was blushing.

‘I . . . Thank you. So do you.’

Remus did blush, smiled, and looked away. ‘Let’s go, then.’

The party was even more crowded than Remus had expected. Not only were there students, but several of Slughorn’s famous former pupils were in attendance as well. And Slughorn wasted no time, introducing current students to former ones as they arrived, clearly trying to match members of his collection. Remus and Severus carefully avoided him, trying not to get sucked into tedious conversation. As promised, Remus found them a corner near a snack table, but not before grabbing two Firewhiskies off a tray.

‘Is she . . . Is that girl trying to get off with that old Quidditch player?’ Remus asked, taking a sip of his whisky.

‘Lucinda. She has critically poor taste in men. I should know, she once tried it with me.’ Severus smiled sardonically, and Remus elbowed him playfully in the ribs.

‘In that case, she normally has good taste. That guy, however . . . How old do you think he is? Fifty?’ He made a face of distaste.

‘Too old for her, in any case. She’s captain of the Slytherin Quidditch team, though, so it is possible she’s trying to get ahead.’

They spent a good couple of hours in their corner—drinking and laughing at other guests, venturing out into the room only to find more drinks—before Lily suddenly appeared next to them.

‘Hi, Remus! Hi, Sev.’

‘Oh! Hey, Lily,’ said Remus. ‘Enjoying the party?’

She shrugged. ‘Meh. Spoken to a couple of vaguely interesting people. How about you guys?’

‘Oh, we’ve just been standing here making fun of everyone, right Severus?’

Severus made a non-committal sound.

‘Is, er . . . Is James with you?’ Remus tried to sound casual, but knew he failed.

Lily nodded. ‘Yeah, he’s over there somewhere, getting us drinks.’ Sure enough, a couple of seconds later, James’s bespectacled face appeared in the crowd. Lily waved at him and he began making his way towards them.

Next to Remus, Severus drained his whisky. ‘I’m tired,’ he declared.

‘You want to leave?’ asked Remus.

Severus nodded. ‘You stay, though. It’s fine.’

Remus shook his head. ‘You really are daft. You leave, I leave, remember?’

‘Aww, already?’ said Lily, but she was smiling. ‘We could hang out, you know. The four of us.’

Remus knew what she was trying to do. Having seen how much more relaxed Severus was around him, she no doubt thought there might be a chance of rekindling their friendship, if he could behave towards her in the same manner. But Remus knew he wasn’t ready for that.

‘Nah, we’ve already been here for over two hours. Time to move on.’

‘All right,’ she said. ‘I’ll see you guys later.’

‘Yeah. Have fun!’

Remus greeted James quickly as they passed, and then they left the party.

Now that he was moving, he realised that he was a little bit drunk. Not very, just enough that the world was spinning a bit, and he grabbed onto Severus’s arm. Severus looked at him, cocking an eyebrow.

‘Sorry,’ said Remus. ‘Whisky hit me a bit harder than I thought it would . . .’

‘Should have known you couldn’t hold your liquor, Lupin,’ said Severus with a smirk.

‘I can hold it just fine!’ Remus protested, pouting. ‘Just not Firewhisky, apparently . . .’

Severus laughed. An actual, honest to goodness laugh, deep and clear, from the diaphragm. Clearly, tonight was the night for miracles. ‘You should do that more,’ said Remus.

‘What?’

‘Laugh. You have a nice laugh.’

Severus scoffed. ‘You must have heard wrong. I didn’t laugh. You’re drunk.’

Now it was Remus’s turn to laugh, and he almost lost his footing.

Severus heaved an exasperated sigh. ‘All right, let’s find somewhere for you to sit down before you injure yourself.’

They found an unlocked, empty classroom. Remus was leaning on Severus’s shoulder, acting more drunk than he felt. It was an excuse to be this close, and there was that scent, intoxicating, flooding his senses. He wanted, needed, to be as close to Severus as he possibly could. Severus sat him down on a desk, and moved to step back, but before he could, Remus had slipped his arms around his waist and was burying his face in his chest. Severus stayed still.

‘Is this okay?’ Remus murmured. ‘Can we be like this for a bit?’

Severus was silent for a moment. Then he put his arms around Remus in turn. ‘Yes. This is fine.’

They stayed like that for a little while, in comfortable silence. Then Remus lifted his head, gazed up into Severus’s face. Some hair had come loose from his ponytail, his black eyes shone, and the tiniest hint of a smile played on his lips. Merlin, those lips. Remus drew a sharp breath and shut his eyes, because if he stared any longer, he would do it. He would kiss him. But then he felt Severus move closer, felt warm breath on his face, and then Severus’s lips brushed his, lightly. Remus opened his eyes wide, disbelieving.

Their faces were an inch apart, and Remus stretched his neck, closed the distance, and captured Severus’s lips in a kiss.

It was slow, gentle. Severus ran long fingers through Remus’s hair, and Remus tightened his grip around Severus’s waist, pulling him closer still, until he stood between Remus’s thighs, flush against his chest. Remus parted his lips, slid his tongue along Severus’s bottom lip until he opened his mouth to admit him, deepening the kiss. Severus’s thin lips were firm, their movements stiff, hard and unyielding, like he didn’t quite know how to do it, and it occurred to Remus that this might be Severus’s very first kiss.

He dipped his tongue inside Severus’s mouth, tasting Firewhisky and something spicy. Severus imitated him. He kissed in much the same way as he made potions. Slowly, methodically, but not unwilling to experiment and find new ways to make it better. He matched the movement of Remus’s lips, his own becoming more supple and pliant as he explored, tested the waters, slowly figured out the subtle science of kissing; as he figured out how Remus liked to be kissed.

When they finally pulled apart, their eyes met again and they looked at each other for a long moment. Then Severus stepped back suddenly, as if he had only just realised what they’d been doing for the past ten minutes.

‘I’m sorry!’ he blurted. ‘I should . . .’ He made to turn towards the door, and Remus grabbed his wrist.

‘No, wait! I’m sorry. Stay.’ He wasn’t even sure what he was apologising for. They had kissed each other. Severus had kissed him first, and then Remus had kissed him back. This shouldn’t be complicated.

But Severus shook his head. ‘We shouldn’t have . . . This was a mistake. Look, I have to go!’ He pulled himself from Remus’s grasp.

‘Sev! Please, don’t go . . .’

Severus gave him one last look, his expression dark. ‘Don’t call me that,’ he said quietly, and left the room.

Remus was left feeling stone cold sober. What had just happened? They had kissed, they had finally kissed, and then . . . Why?

After a long while, he stood up. The last place he wanted to go was his dormitory, where Sirius would no doubt be. He was the last person Remus wanted to see right now. But that was the only place for him to go, unless he wanted to return to the party, which he didn’t. Thankfully, when the got to Gryffindor Tower, Sirius was nowhere to be seen. Neither was Peter. He concluded from this that they were probably out making mischief.

Remus crawled into bed, closing the curtains. Where he lay in the dark, he became painfully aware of how turned on he was, still. That kiss . . . Sirius’s kisses had always been aggressive, dominating. His tongue would invade Remus’s mouth, he would bite and pull at his lips, leaving them red and raw and sore. And Remus had loved it, because he had loved Sirius. But this, this had been something else entirely, and no less wonderful. Severus and Remus had been equals in that kiss, taking no more than they gave. There had been kindness in it, a mutual wish to give, and somehow that was so, so hot.

He got himself off in the dark, to the memory of that kiss, the taste of it, the scent of Severus still filling his nostrils, and then he drifted off to sleep, entirely without the need for sleeping potions.