Chapter Three
Snape did not see Lupin for the next three days. He was not the worrying kind of person and considering the amount of bullying he had taken from that group of friends when they were at school, he knew that there was no obligation to feel anything towards Lupin at all. Yet, despite his logical approach, there was still a gnawing feeling in his stomach and he found himself pacing up and down his classroom more often, glancing towards the door every now and then. He had even visited Madam Pomfrey on the morning of the third day to see if she had had a visit from the Dark Arts professor at all. He was concerned to find out that she had not.
Still baffled and anxious as to the whereabouts of him, Snape made his way to the Great Hall to partake in the tedious affair that was the feast. More often than not, Snape would not touch his food at all during the feast, disliking the uncomfortably close proximity he was to, well, everyone and the feeling of eyes on him throughout the evening. Instead, he waited until the students and majority of staff had left the hall before taking a plateful of morsels back to his quarters to eat in peace. Today was going to be no different.
As he entered the hall the brightness of the light-filled pumpkins almost blinded him and he turned his face away. As he did so a figure caught his sight. There, sitting and talking very animatedly to Professor Flitwick at the staff table, was Lupin.
Initially shocked, Snape began to narrow his eyes as he walked towards the table, rage starting to bubble inside him. He took his place at the opposite end of the table from Lupin and, unusually, poured himself a cup of Firewhiskey to pass the time with. He kept glancing over towards Lupin, unconsciously trying to catch his eye or look over his features, constantly checking on him. Lupin never looked over and instead seemed to be actively ignoring him by focusing entirely on the small charms professor. Snape noticed that he hardly touched his food.
After the feast had finished, Snape piled more food on his plate than usual and made his way towards Lupin’s quarters. Lupin himself had left the feast early, looking pale and sickly, and damned if Snape was going to let him avoid him again.
Snape knocked on Lupin’s door and when he heard no reply, knocked again. There was still no response so Snape gently pushed the unlocked door open and went in. Lupin was nowhere to be seen.
Setting the plate of food onto the desk, Snape glided around the room searching for any medication of some sort that would explain Lupin’s more than usual pale sickliness. Wondering into the bedroom area, Snape paused briefly at what greeted him. There on the bedside table was a sharp razor blade propped up against a bottle of anti-infection gel and rubbing alcohol.
When Snape walked over to the bin he gaped in horror at what he saw. He was not a squeamish man but the sight in front of him made his stomach twist in knots.
The bin was full to the brim with crumpled tissues and cotton pads all stained with a heavy load of blood. Most of them had been dyed completely from white to red, the ones on top looking fresh. Before he had time to fully comprehend what he was seeing he heard the door creak open and footsteps coming towards him. A few moments later, Lupin appeared and jumped when he saw Snape standing in the middle of his bedroom.
“Severus! You gave me quite the start!” he chuckled. But seeing the horrified expression on his face, Lupin stopped smiling. “Severus?” He glanced towards the bin then back to Severus, realisation dawning.
Seeing the change in Lupin’s face - the fear that was now present - Snape walked slowly towards him. Lupin backed away with every step, suddenly his back hit the wall. Creeping ever closer, Snape stopped some centimetres from Lupin’s face. From this proximity, Snape could see just how dark the circles were beneath Lupin’s eyes. He looked down and gently took hold of Lupin’s hand, raising it towards him. He could feel Lupin trembling but still pushed on as he slowly lifted the sleeve up away from his wrist. He silently gasped at the sight.
Long, raw looking cuts sliced down evenly across Lupin’s arm. There was a mixture of scar tissue and scabs. Lower down were gaping open wounds, some hastily covered with plasters. Snape gulped.
“Sit down on the bed.” He ordered.
Lupin silently walked over and sat down.
“Remove your cloak.”
Lupin did as he was told. He was wearing a long sleeved shirt underneath and Snape ordered him to remove that as well. Having finally taken off all the layers of clothing, Snape could at last see the full extent of the destruction. Lupin’s body was covered in cuts here and there, some small and merely white scar lines, others were bigger and more recently acquired. His stomach had the biggest cuts, some over five centimetres long.
“What happened to you, Lupin…”
Lupin looked away. “I mentioned it before. Brambles are a nightmare when you change.”
Snape’s temper flared. “Brambles?! You and I both know that these were not the product of a few scratches Remus!”
Remus looked up at Severus when he called him by his first name and he could see the rage
and concern filling Severus’ eyes. He looked away again feeling an unbearable pain inside his chest.
After some moments of silence, Snape flicked his wand and a bundle of bandages appeared beside him, hovering in the air. He flicked his wand again and they began to automatically wrap themselves around the parts of Remus’ body that harboured fresh wounds. Neither man said anything throughout. After the bandages had finished their job, the excess disappeared with a Poof!
Snape stood back to admire the neat handywork for a moment until he saw the sullen look on Remus’ face. He walked over and sat down next to him.
“Why, Remus?”
Remus said nothing for a while, his body still and almost taut. His hands were shaking as they clung to the side of the bed. He looked so pale and weak that one would think a dementor was eating away at his very soul. His eyes were glazed over as though reliving every moment in his life that crushed him, traumatised him and left him with a new scar each time.
Seeing him like this, Severus was tempted to use legilimency on him but just as he was reaching for his wand, Remus blinked and seemed to gain control of himself; his face returning to its usual relaxed look once more.
He stood and walked over to his desk on which sat a small mirror. “You really have done a marvellous job with these bandages, Severus.” Remus said in his usual manner, “Madam Pomfrey may be out of a job soon!”
“When you have the Weasley twins in your class you learn to think on your feet.” He scowled and stood up. “Why are you avoiding the question?”
Remus sighed and looked back at the mirror. His eyes fell on the scars on his face – a huge, gashing claw mark running from his left eye down to the right side of his lip, some smaller ones dotted around it. He lifted his hand and touched it lightly before turning away from the mirror.
“It’s not something I would wish to burden you with.”
Before Severus could say anything to mark his rage at this response, Remus swiftly walked over to the door and opened it. “Now please, I have a class to prepare for tomorrow.” He said, standing firmly by the open door.
Severus glared at him with almost murderous intent before furiously walking out the door, his black cape billowing behind him.