"Severus?"
He looked up from his spot at the table, glaring daggers at the newcomer who had just interrupted his break - his silent, sleep-deprived breakdown over a cup of long-gone-cold cup of coffee, really - and raised an eyebrow in disinterested acknowledgement.
Internally, he sighed.
"What can I do for you, Lupin?" he asked softly, his voice as cold and full of venom as he could manage. Admittedly, it did not have the same effect when there was a detectable hint of shakiness to it.
He grimaced at his own weakness, but directed it towards Lupin, letting him believe the glower was meant for him all along.
"Are you alright?"
It was not the direction he had been expecting and his glare deepened as a result. What was he getting at? He shifted in his seat and tried to discern the expression on the DADA professor's face, tried to find even a hint of amusement to tell him he had asked the question in jest.
"Quite." he responded, when he realized he had taken too long to answer and the werewolf's face had started to morph into concerned questioning.
Lupin nodded and entered the staff room completely, letting the door shut behind him. Severus straightened up at the fact, feeling his heartbeat thrum a little faster at the perceived threat.
He slowly set his mug down and let one hand wander towards his wand, fingers resting lightly on the handle as he waited in tense apprehension. He twitched without permission when he saw Lupin reach into his pocket as well.
"You looked terrible during the quidditch match." Lupin shrugged, pulling out a square of chocolate. He unwrapped it carefully, feigning absentmindedness. "That's par for the course, of course. Given the, well you know."
The dementors, Severus answered silently.
Of course he had looked terrible, but hadn't everyone? He couldn't recall how everyone else had reacted to them, too wrapped up in flashes of memories he'd thought he'd forgotten, past traumas he wished he could. Some involving the current professor standing in front him, others including the reason for the dementors presence in the first place.
Still others included his father, his useless mother who he hated just as much (loved really, loved with every fiber of his being, and every time he dared remember what his father had done to her, the ache in his chest, the white hot anger, the stomach-dropping moment of realization - no, it was easier to think he hated her too. It hurt less and he was fine with that). Either way, the attack of pain, of desperate, desolate sadness had left him trembling and sick to his stomach.
He hadn't wanted to attend the quidditch match, but he was Head of House and if his snakes were going to be in the path of dementors, then he too would be out there and keeping an eye out for any adverse reactions.
He just hadn't expected himself to be one of them.
He hadn't expected them to approach the quidditch pitch at all. They weren't supposed to be there, Dumbledore had been promised they wouldn't approach.
It was just as well that Dumbledore had still chosen to attend the match, had been able to keep Potter safe as he crashed back towards earth, because he had been temporarily - embarrassingly - indisposed.
No one had seemed to notice though, far too focused on Potter's descent to the ground and the swarm of the dreadful, cloaked creatures that surrounded them just the same.
No one, save for Lupin it seemed.
"You still look awful actually." Lupin commented mildly, breaking off a piece of chocolate and handing it over. Severus accepted it warily. "You know it will help."
"Because you look any better?" Severus asked, finally biting into the sweet cocoa. It immediately caused a warmth to wrap itself around him and he relaxed the smallest bit. The clenching in his stomach loosened and he felt like he could breathe properly again for the first time since returning to the castle.
"Thank you." he forced himself to say.
Lupin nodded. "I didn't expect to find you in the staff room, truth be told. I figured you would have rushed to your quarters before allowing anyone to see you like this."
Lupin was studying him and self-consciously, Severus curled into himself. He stared back warily, idly wondering what it was the other man saw. He could feel the color returning to his face, so he imagined sickly and pallid, at the very least.
He wondered if his muffled terror was visible on his face, and if it was, if Lupin figured it was from the dementors presence or from being trapped in a room with him.
Lupin was still staring, now raising an eyebrow in curiosity.
Severus loathed to admit it to even himself, let alone to anyone else, but the reason he was hiding out in the staff room was because the screaming he had heard in his ears, the begging for help, the cold sense of dread and heart-wrenching everything that had wrapped itself around him hadn't just left him shaky. It had left him lonely.
He would never ask for the company, would never acknowledge it in so many words again, but a small part of him was hoping that Minerva would come find him, or at the very least, run into him in the staff room and choose to sit with him, to talk about pointless, mindless things and allow him a moment to soak up someone else's warmth.
He scowled.
He raised his half-filled mug in answer and shrugged. "I like the French press."
Lupin's lip twitched in response. He glanced towards the aforementioned coffee press and eyed the remaining drink in contemplation. After a moment he poured himself a cup as well and turned to Severus. "Do you mind the company?"
Severus narrowed his eyes, still not trusting the man in front of him. "Shouldn't you be more concerned for Potter, or something?"
"Oh, I am." Lupin assured, pulling out another square of chocolate and splitting it. Just how many did he carry? "He's well taken care of right now, though."
Severus nodded, accepting the piece. It was the only reason he was allowing Lupin to stay.
He could go back to hating him tomorrow. Right now, he was desperate for company and Lupin seemed to be willing to be neutral as well. Besides, if he tried anything, Severus knew far more hexes now than he did as a child.
He bit into the chocolate.