Lunar eclipse
October is coming to an end. As every year, the school was decorated and in a festive mood for Halloween. But Severus always felt depressed on that day, never in the mood to celebrate the dead. Lily had been in their world for exactly fourteen years now. He hated to see the students roaming the corridors, laughing and looking forward to a good meal in the Great Hall that evening. He felt a knot in his stomach, a certain nausea at the edge of his lips, similar to the one he felt on Christmas days when he was forced to stay in the castle and shoot off firecrackers with Dumbledore.
This year was all the more unbearable because, in addition to the usual Halloween routine, Severus had to deal with the presence of Umbridge, who was constantly trying to increase her power within the school and who crossed his path more and more often. On the last occasion, Severus had even tightened his grip on his wand, both to control himself and to prepare for the possibility of attacking her. Dumbledore had provided him with detailed notes on all of her activities at the Ministry and Severus had not yet found the strength to delve into them. It was Sirius's idea, and anything that reminded him of Sirius was unwelcome.
Then, just a few days after his appearance at the Malfoy Reception, Severus had been unpleasantly surprised to feel his mark burning into his left forearm. Once again, he had found himself alone with the Dark Lord, who had told him of a new plan. This time he would have a weapon that Potter did not, and Severus would have to help him get it. Voldemort had not immediately told Severus what it was, their meeting had been brief, with no physical torture, but it had left Severus exhausted and on the verge of a nervous breakdown. He hated not knowing what the weapon was, but he hated even more knowing that Voldemort was doing this to test his loyalty after his disappearance in the summer. Severus had sensed that his supposed master was testing him and had asked him, as he would a disobedient pupil, to think about what the weapon might be. He and Dumbledore had then spent hours discussing it, and Severus had the unpleasant impression that the Headmaster knew more than he was telling him.
And then, of course, there was Black. At first, Severus had refused to think about what had happened. When he'd first returned to Hogwarts, he'd rushed off to his private quarters and hadn't been out all weekend, letting the house elves bring him food that he'd barely touched. He felt he could have died of shame. Holding Black in his arms had been so beautiful, he'd felt ready for anything at that moment. Nothing else existed around him. Never before had he felt so much energy flowing through him. For a few moments, the only reality had been the softness of Black's brown curls between his fingers, the softness of his hands on his hips and lower back. Then the man had pressed his head against Severus' body and it had been too much.
The Potions Master had remembered for hours the sensation he had felt when Black had breathed against his clothes, almost against his skin. It had been the most intimate feeling he had ever known. Nothing like this had ever happened to him before and he was saddened by the thought that it would never happen again. His thoughts had been haunted by images of Black's perfectly formed mouth, slightly ajar, showing his straight white teeth, his lips pressed against Severus's shirt, exhaling warm air, something from deep inside the man. Severus hadn't seen any of that, content to watch his own long, slender white fingers intertwined with black curls, too admiring of this treasure to pay attention to anything else.
To his shame, his excitement had only been rekindled, and without being able to restrain himself, without even really trying, Severus had allowed himself what he considered to be a deviance. Sitting in his favourite armchair, his mind invaded by such images, the sensations becoming more real every moment than they had been in the past, Severus could take no more, intoxicated by a mixture of shame, forbidden and desire more powerful than anything he had felt in recent years, he had opened his trousers and with a few strokes on his painfully erect member, he had come on his clenched hand, Sirius' beautiful face painted under his closed eyelids.
After that weakness, Severus had done his best not to think about the man again. He knew he would never dare look him in the face again. Black had certainly realised how upset he was, and after literally running away from home, he would have to put up with his presence at meetings, but he would avoid unnecessary contact. He would discreetly return borrowed books to an Order meeting and refrain from further research in the Black Library. Severus had felt his throat tighten more than once at the thought of losing the man who had become a friend, and he had been on the verge of tears when he realised that he would have to face his disgusted, arrogant gaze at future meetings. Just like when they were at Hogwarts together.
For all these reasons, Severus felt sadder and emptier than ever that Tuesday, 31st October 1995. As his last lesson of the day drew to a close, he watched wistfully as the fifth year Slytherins and Gryffindors packed up their belongings, their ungrateful faces looking forward to Halloween dinner. As he began to think of an excuse not to go, something caught his eye.
"But Hermione, it's his birthday! Can you imagine all those years without anyone thinking of him?" said Potter's voice from the back of the classroom.
"Harry, it's too risky! Umbridge keeps an eye on all the post and if she finds out you've sent anything, she'll have it opened. You don't want him to get caught, do you?"
"Of course not, how can you say such a thing?" came Potter's indignant voice.
"Then forget this stupid and dangerous idea," came the confident voice of the Granger girl.
Severus couldn't help but listen. He even pretended to erase the instructions on the blackboard, Muggle style, to give the impression that he was busy. In spite of himself, all his senses were alert, for it seemed to him that he already knew who he was talking about.
"Hermione, it's his birthday! I'd like to get away from the castle and that stupid Umbridge and spend the weekend with my godfather. I know it's impossible, of course I won't do it," Potter added hastily.
"I'm sorry, Harry, but there are priorities. I think Padfoot is perfectly capable of handling a birthday party on his own, if you stay safe. That's what he wants most in the world, your safety. And sending him a letter doesn't fit in with that."
Severus almost stopped breathing. Padfoot. The brats were actually talking about Sirius's birthday! Why did they have to have this discussion in his class? Now he had to listen!
"Calm down, Hermione," came a third voice, and Severus assumed it was Weasley. "Sir... Padfoot was a bit of a rebel when he was our age, I'm sure he'd like a birthday message from Harry. To annoy Umbridge, that is."
"That's so irresponsible of you, Ron," Granger's voice was suddenly shrill.
Severus stopped erasing the board, desperate to keep himself occupied so he could hear more.
"Don't start arguing," came Potter's annoyed voice. "I've got until Friday to think about it."
"Harry..."
"What are you still doing here?" interrupted Severus, forcing the anger into his voice. "5 points off Gryffindor for loitering in my class and wasting my time, now get out before I give you three detention, where you'll have plenty of time to finish this charming little discussion by scrubbing every pot in the castle by hand!"
The three teenagers looked at him with a mixture of fear and indignation and hurried to collect their things and leave the room. Severus breathed a sigh of relief and locked the door behind him. Sirius Bloody Black's birthday was on Friday... which would mean he was born on the 3rd of November. Severus berated himself for doing this quick calculation in his head, but what did he care? It was no longer any of his business. He was no longer a part of Sirius' life.
He forced himself to show up at the Halloween feast, pecking at his plate.
"Severus, are you all right?" asked McGonagall, sitting on his left between him and Dumbledore.
"Yes," Severus sighed, "as usual."
"Then I suppose it's not all right, but there's nothing we can do about it," she replied.
"I've always appreciated your insight," Severus said, holding back a small smile.
"Severus, whatever it is, I want you to know you can talk to me."
"That's kind of you, but I... I don't know what to say, Minerva. There are too many things, and the more I think about them, the less sense they make. I'd rather say nothing at all."
"Don't make it any harder," the witch raised her eyebrow and gave him a penetrating look.
"That was the day they died," Severus said simply.
"I know," McGonagall said softly. "But look at their son, he's enjoying life and that's what matters now."
"I'd rather not look at him, thank you," Severus growled. "It's as if the brat doesn't feel anything today. I don't understand it."
"He's still a child, and he hasn't grown up enough to care about this date. Don't be too hard on him, he knows what he's in for."
Severus sighed.
"We can't talk quietly here anyway."
"Right, why don't you come into my study for tea, I've got some delicious ginger biscuits."
Severus glared at her. Having tea with McGonagall and eating biscuits? Dumbledore's influence over his staff sometimes frightened him. Maybe he would come. The rest of the meal was a little more bearable, but Severus was glad to be back in the quiet of his own quarters after dark.
He glanced around his small sitting room as he settled into his favourite armchair by the open fire, which an elf had lit in his absence. The books he had borrowed from Black had long since been finished and he had found nothing useful in them. They were now piled up and relegated to a dark corner of the room, behind the small sofa. So it was Sirius' birthday on Friday? And Potter was going to send him something, the idiot. Severus wondered what he could do to stop it, the Granger girl was right, it was a risk for Sirius. Unable to do anything without betraying himself, Severus resigned himself to hoping that Potter would have enough sense to listen to Granger. Wanting the day to end as soon as possible, Severus went to bed early, but did not sleep until much later in the night.
The rest of the week passed without incident. He hadn't had the strength to go to McGonagall. Severus had never been so tired, and the year was just beginning, the war itself had not yet been officially declared. He had found nothing useful in the notes on Umbridge that Dumbledore had given him, but perhaps that was because he was distracted, his mind elsewhere, his shoulders buckling under the strain. Sometimes he wanted to disappear, to be free of his two masters, their irreconcilable expectations and the chaos of his own life.
Classes ended on Friday 3rd November and Severus tidied up his classroom and went straight to his private quarters. Closing the door behind him, he flicked his wand and the door disappeared from the wall. But he was not alone. An owl he did not recognise was perched on the back of his favourite chair. Severus froze, who could be delivering mail directly to his home at such a time? He immediately thought of Lucius Malfoy, but it wasn't his owl from the last time. Sure, he had several, but this one was rather small and snow-white, and Severus couldn't help but think he'd seen it somewhere before. The Potions Professor slowly approached the bird and saw that it had a letter attached to one of its legs. The owl glared at him as he began to untie the hastily tied letter. Severus returned the glare. Concerned, he untied the letter and saw that it had been written in obvious haste.
Dear Severus,
R. is back! I need your help, please come as soon as you can. It is urgent.
Padfoot
PS: Let Hedwig go back to the Owlery, she belongs to Harry.
Stunned, Severus let the note fall back on the table to recover his wits. Firstly, the presence of Potter's bloody owl could only mean that the brat had sent his godfather a birthday message after all, regardless of the risks involved. Second, that bloody werewolf was back, and something was obviously wrong. Thirdly, Sirius Black had written him a letter. He'd agreed to talk to him. Severus felt slightly dizzy, after all the effort he had put into trying to forget Black, the man was now allowing himself to be contacted. 'I need your help', so this was an exception. It could only mean that Black needed his potion making skills, otherwise he would have contacted someone else.
"Wait a minute," he said to Hedwige, "I need to get ready before I let you out."
The owl hooted quietly to show it understood.
Severus hurried into his study, making the hidden door in the wall reappear. He took a worn leather satchel from under his desk, blew the dust off it and opened it. From one of his cupboards he took out his first-aid kit. Then, since it was Lupin, he added the ingredients for the wolfsbane. Finally, he stuffed a few more vials into his bag, containing various already brewed liquids designed to heal all sorts of wounds. He snapped the bag shut.
The head of Slytherin went back to find Potter's bird and took it in his arms. The owl clawed at his forearm and he forced a grimace from his face. Heart pounding, Severus left his study, having taken care to magically seal his personal quarters and make the door disappear. How in the name of Salazar did that bird get into his private quarters? Hoping not to bump into anyone, Severus hurried on. Once out of the dungeons, he hurried to the large gate that opened onto the castle grounds. He raised his arm so that the owl could fly away and ran after it. Severus forced himself not to run to the gate, so anxious was he to find out what Sirius wanted from him. He realised it was more apprehension than actual eagerness. The feelings that twisted like snakes in his stomach were not all positive. He passed through the gates of the castle and made his way to a point where he could Apparate. He closed his eyes and thought about his destination as he clutched his bag.
When he opened them again, he found himself in the London Square, outside Number 12. He hadn't been there for three weeks, which seemed like an eternity and the blink of an eye. He felt as if flames were burning in his gut, licking the sides of his stomach and swirling around. He really didn't know what kind of welcome he could expect from Black. He'd probably be too focused on his beloved werewolf to pay any attention to Severus anyway. He opened the door and stepped inside. The corridor was dark and he walked until he reached the kitchen at the end, his heart pounding in the midst of the wildfire. No one was there.
"Black?" Severus said, clearing his throat.
Immediately, a figure burst from the small opening to the left of the kitchen, the one he knew led into the small sitting room, Sirius's favourite room.
"Severus!" he shouted.
He rushed over to Severus and gave him a brief but firm hug. He released the hug and met the Potions Master's dazed gaze. Sirius did not look well, his hair was matted and a beard several days old ate up part of his face. Dark circles marked his red eyes and it was obvious that he was exhausted. He took Severus' hand and pulled him into the small room.
“Thank you for coming, thank you, thank you.”
“What's going on," Severus stammered.
“Remus has come back," said Sirius, "and he needs your help.”
They entered the sitting room, where a fire blazed in the fireplace, the only light in the room. Severus turned to the figure lying on the sofa where he himself had been carried when he had fainted. He approached and held back a gasp.
"Bloody hell, what's he done?" growled Severus, stepping aside.
"He got into a fight," Sirius said, on the verge of tears. "Only it was during a lunar eclipse."
"Oh," Severus said, "I see. Why did he do it?"
"He was surprised by a pack of werewolves in the pay of Voldemort. Led by that bloody Greyback. They must have planned this attack, I think they found out Remus was watching for the Order amongst them. And they waited for the eclipse to..."
Sirius looked miserable. It was nothing compared to Lupin's state, but Severus couldn't stop his heart from sinking at Black's utterly bewildered expression. He wished he could have made some tender gesture towards him, but he was unable to.
"It's no good Greyback's pack knowing about Lupin," Severus said. "He hasn't been very discreet."
"You mean it's his fault?" exclaimed Sirius, a gleam of indignation in his eyes.
"No, of course not," Severus said hastily. "When was the eclipse?"
"The 8th of October," Sirius replied immediately.
"But he's been like this for almost a month," Severus gasped in shock.
It was a miracle he was still alive, Severus thought. During lunar eclipses, werewolves lost the tenfold strength that made them supernatural beings. Nor did their bites have any effect. However, werewolf bites on other werewolves took much longer than normal to heal. In the Middle Ages, the fiercest werewolves waited for lunar eclipses to decimate entire packs and gain territory. Today, this meant that Greyback had waited to surprise Lupin and attacked him with other members of his pack, with the sole aim of inflicting terrible wounds. He had enjoyed himself, knowing that it would take him an infinite amount of time to recover from his injuries. In fact, he had intended to torture him horribly, and certainly to kill him. Severus deduced.
"Yes," Sirius groaned. "He must have been so scared and hurt and..."
His voice broke. Severus wondered if there had ever been anything other than friendship between the two men. Had Sirius ever told Lupin that 'it wasn't the same' between them? Severus pushed his thoughts away, this was no time to be distracted.
"I'll see what I can do," Severus muttered, turning to his bag. "When did he arrive?"
"The day before yesterday," Sirius replied.
"But then... what have you been doing all this time? Why didn't you ask me before you came?"
"I wasn't sure you were coming," Sirius admitted, blushing slightly. "I alerted Dumbledore, who arrived with Madam Pomfrey, but there wasn't much she could do. If Remus is still alive, it's because Dumbledore used magic known only to him to keep him alive. He told me to contact you."
"I see," Severus said, not really knowing what to make of this information.
He bent over his bag and began to sort through the vials, not quite sure what to do.
"Will you be able to help him?" asked Sirius in a low voice.
"I'll try," Severus said. "I'll need to examine him a bit."
"Yes, of course, come closer."
Severus had no desire to. The man was in a pitiful state, but it was only when Sirius bent over him and gently removed the blanket covering him that Severus saw the extent of the damage. Lupin was emaciated, as if he had been starving for some time. His face was covered in sores, as was his body, and Severus fought back a gag. His hair was missing in places and one eye was swollen. Despite his animosity towards Lupin, the Slytherin was horrified by the sight before him. He began to think.
"He got his wounds during the lunar eclipse, which means they're taking longer than usual to heal. Greyback must think he's dead by now, and I don't think Lupin got away during the fight. They must have left him on the ground thinking that..." Severus cut himself off when he saw Sirius's face. "I was thinking out loud."
Severus concentrated. He remembered reading something on the subject again, but he couldn't remember where or what.
"Did he tell you?"
"Yes," Sirius said, "at least he remembers everything. He just told me that it was Greyback and that he was alone when he attacked him. Remus didn't want to risk endangering the pack he'd won over to our cause. I think he must have been expecting a trap during the eclipse. In fact, he's been fainting ever since he arrived, and that's all I've been able to gather. He was alone, Severus, are you aware of that?"
Severus grunted an inaudible reply to stop himself from shrugging and meeting Sirius's gaze.
"What exactly did Madam Pomfrey do?"
"She put lots of ointments on his wounds and gave him potions to restore his strength and nutrients. Dumbledore stabilised what life was left in him, I think. He spent some time whispering formulae over him."
"What more can I do?" asked a confused Severus.
"You must save his life, Severus," Sirius replied, his tone more serious and pleading than ever.
Severus was beginning to understand the meaning of Sirius’s words.
"You're asking me to find a cure for the wounds inflicted between werewolves during the lunar eclipses," he summarised.
"Yes, something like that."
The Potions Master was almost tempted to smile.
"You know no one's ever found a cure, Black? That's why there isn't one."
"Yes, but... you'll manage," Sirius assured.
"I think you overestimate my abilities," Severus replied. "I couldn't do it, and I don't have the time anyway. When would you like me to do it? I'm teaching at a school and I'm supposed to be Voldemort's right-hand man, spying on him for the Order of the Phoenix! And you want me to invent potions in my spare time? I don't have spare time, Black!"
Severus had raised his voice without realising it. But he was particularly angry at Sirius. What did he think, that this was all he had to do? That he was available to play nursemaid to the werewolf? Actually, Black hadn't written to tell him that he missed him, he wanted to use him like everyone else.
"OK," Black said in a dead voice. "I'm sorry to have bothered you for nothing, I thought you'd be more interested in saving the life of one of my dearest friends. Obviously I was wrong."
"Black, I can try, but it won't be a miracle," Severus continued, trying to calm his anger.
"You can go," Sirius said in a cold voice now. "I didn't think you'd chicken out so soon."
"Chicken out? I just told you I might try something..."
"There's no point in just trying! Remus needs a miracle! If you're not prepared to do that, then you're useless!"
"Very well," Severus hissed, losing patience. "I'll go. And you'd better get your friend to St Mungo's if you don't want him to die on your favourite sofa!"
Severus immediately regretted his words.
“Black I'm sorry, I...”
“Get out of here Snape.”
Severus flinched as he heard Sirius call him by his surname.
“Get out of here," Sirius repeated more slowly.
The Slytherin felt frozen. Black suddenly reminded him of the teenager he had been: demanding of others, impulsive and fiercely loyal to his friends. Severus felt as if his life was suddenly slipping away from him, leaving his body as it flashed before his eyes for the last time. He didn't want to argue with Black. He was aware that he thought he was at a decisive moment where everything could change.
"I feel like I read something about this not too long ago," Severus said, trying to hide the panic in his voice. "I can't remember."
"There are a lot of things you don't seem to remember these days. It doesn't do us much good," Sirius said in that cold tone of his. "Remus is not going to die, do you understand? Don't you dare say that!"
"I said I was sorry!" said Severus, annoyed. "Look, Black, I'm... I'm going back to Hogwarts to think things over, all right?"
"Why Hogwarts? You can go to my father's study, the library or any other empty room, there's no shortage of them here."
"I have to be in my study," Severus replied. "It's the only place I can really work in peace."
It wasn't quite true, but Severus felt an irrepressible need to leave the house, to put some distance between himself and Black and to think about the situation. In fact, he felt on the verge of exploding, as he had so often recently. It hurt him physically to see the pain in Sirius's eyes as he watched his friend between life and death, and it irritated him. He didn't want Sirius's pain to matter to him, but it couldn't be otherwise. Far from clearing up the many grey areas in his relationship with Black, this evening had definitely raised some new ones.
He left Black with a look of resentment, but also of hope. When he finally arrived at his office at Hogwarts, Severus felt that he had wasted a considerable amount of time coming back here. Why in Merlin's name had Dumbledore not had Lupin transferred to St Mungo's immediately? Instead, he had suggested that Sirius contact his Potions Master. Severus had the uncomfortable feeling that Dumbledore was trying to interfere in matters that were none of his business. He just wanted to take a Sleeping Draught and never wake up again.
Severus went to his private quarters with the vague idea of pouring himself a glass of wine. He sank into his favourite armchair, the softness of which was not enough to restore his courage. He lifted his head and looked around the room, which was silent, cold and without fire. And then his gaze suddenly stopped. Then he knew what he had to do to save Remus Lupin. Perhaps he would have a suitable present for Black's birthday.