Chapter 52:

Severus glanced down to his fabric-covered left forearm, where the barely-there Dark Mark ached like it had been for the last year. Not enough to cause a problem, but enough to be noticeable. "I'm afraid you're right." They were on borrowed time. "This is only the beginning."

Remus' face twisted in resignation. He reached up to cup Severus' jaw, hand sliding around to the back of his head. Severus couldn't help but flinch as fingers pressed against the lump on his skull. "You're hurt," Remus realised. "What— was it me?"

Severus stayed silent, which was confirmation enough, and horror flooded Remus' face. "Oh, Severus, no. Tell me I didn't bite you. You said everyone was fine!"

"Hush, Remus," Severus soothed. "You didn't bite anyone. You merely knocked me aside when I stood between you and the children. I'll heal."

"You… you stood between me and the kids? After I'd transformed?" Severus nodded. In the blink of an eye, Remus was yanking him down, and suddenly there were lips pressed to his. Severus tensed, but muscle memory took over, his lips moving against Remus' and his hand tightening on the man's shoulder, pulling him closer. Twelve years, yet it felt like no time at all. His heart ached as Remus' tongue snuck between his lips, a low groan dragging from deep in the man's throat.

When Severus finally had the sense to pull away, he found himself with one leg flung over Remus' thigh, practically straddling the man. Remus stroked his cheek gently, his eyes alive in a way Severus hadn't seen all year. "I am so sick," the Gryffindor breathed, "of trying to pretend I'm not absolutely mad about you, Severus Snape." His kiss-swollen lips curved in a faint smile, his head tilting up to bare his neck slightly, the cardigan hanging off his narrow shoulders. With his mussed hair and trusting gaze, he looked like every dream Severus had never let himself have. "Stay. Please."

All year, Severus had been reminding himself of all the reasons he couldn't have Remus Lupin. Telling himself time and time again that his teenage desires were going to get one of them killed, and they were adults now, and childish love wasn't enough.

All those reasons seemed to have fled his brain as he stared down at the man who had seen him through everything, the man he kept coming back to no matter how many times they pushed each other away.

He righted himself, sitting on the edge of the mattress once more. A whimper escaped Remus' lips, the light in his eyes dimming.

Severus leaned down and unbuckled his boots.

He was done denying himself things. If the Dark Lord was to return, he deserved every scrap of good he could hold onto before it was too late.

He shrugged his teaching robe off his shoulders, letting it pool on the floor. He heard a sharp intake of breath. "Severus." The only person to ever say his name so reverently. He ached, all the way down to his bones, and not just from being flung across the grass by a full-grown werewolf. He was so tired. Tired of being alone. Tired of so many things.

Lying down on the mattress beside Remus felt like coming home for the first time in years. Their bodies were different, older — Severus wasn't as bony, and Remus was bonier than ever — but they curled into each other like two halves of a magnet, Remus tucking his face into Severus' neck, sprawled heavy over the Slytherin like he was scared Severus might leave as soon as he fell asleep. The weight was comforting, and Severus' hand settled low on Remus' back, beneath the cardigan, cool fingers pressing against warm skin. "Sleep," he urged in the barest whisper, burying his nose in the man's greying hair. He smelled like the forest, like wilderness. Severus' tame wild thing. Always Severus'. Even when neither of them wanted it that way.

"I missed you." Remus' words were muffled by Severus' collarbone, but he felt them all the same, shaking him down to his core. This felt like the first thing he'd done right since he'd turned spy against the Dark Lord.

They would have a lot to talk about in the morning. They would have plans to make, and headmasters to avoid, and lies to weave. It would be difficult, and dangerous. But they would do it. Together.

For now, Severus closed his eyes, breathing in the scent of his wolf, the comforting weight across his chest. For now, they could sleep, like the world didn't exist. In that room, with the two of them finally reunited properly, after twelve years apart, it was enough. It had to be.

For now.

Pomfrey released all three of them from the hospital wing after lunch the next day, and Harry had nearly forgotten that the world kept going on without them. The castle was almost entirely deserted, everyone taking advantage of the glorious weather and the lack of exams and the last Hogsmeade visit before the end of the school year. No one had any idea what had happened in the night, how close an innocent man had come to losing his life. That was the thing about Hogwarts. It never failed to remind you that the universe didn't revolve around you.

Everyone knew, of course, that Sirius Black had been caught and escaped again. The Hogwarts rumour mill was a creature unto itself. But no one knew the truth.

None of the trio felt like going to Hogsmeade after everything that had happened. Ron's leg, despite being fixed up by Madam Pomfrey, was still sore and stiff, and privately Harry thought the redhead was shell-shocked from learning his pet rat had been a g rown man the entire time. Hermione, on the other hand, seemed to finally be feeling the effects of her overloaded schedule; she'd gone up to bed, telling the boys not to wake her even if she slept through dinner.

That left Harry alone, wandering through the grounds in the bright sunlight, finding himself at the edge of the lake. He could hardly wrap his head around it all — he'd performed a proper Patronus charm, right there, and saved Sirius' life and his own. Hermione had been time-travelling for the entire bloody school year. It was madness.

"Alright, Harry?" It was Neville, his shirtsleeves rolled up to his elbows and dirt smudged across his forehead. "You and Ron weren't in the dorms last night. I… what happened? Are you okay?"

"Yeah,

it's…

a

long

story,"

Harry dismissed with a shake of his head. "What are you up to?"

"I've been helping Professor Sprout get the greenhouses ready for the summer," Neville explained. "With all the students gone, she'll be looking after them all by herself, and some of the plants need to be moved first. I just came to get a bit of fresh air." Neville sat down on the sand beside Harry, briefly bumping the smaller boy's shoulder with his own. "You ready to leave?"

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