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teddy_radiatorA huge thank you to everyone who has taken the time to read this fic, and left an encouraging comment or two. I am really thrilled you are enjoying it.
This is dedicated to stgulik, my amazing beta, who asked me so sweetly to write this fic I could not refuse, and I'm glad I didn't.
As always, I do not own these characters and make no money from the writing of this fanfiction.
Chapter Five
Remus started spending less time with Severus and Hermione over the next few days. His absences soon stretched into weeks, then a couple of months went by without a word from him. After his almost daily, steadying presence, they both felt the absence of it keenly. When they made discreet overtures to friends and family, no one seemed to know where he was or what he was doing.
It troubled Hermione, which in turn frustrated Severus. Hermione was a brilliant witch with keen intelligence and compassion; she cared about friends. Severus only really cared about how Remus’ absence affected Hermione’s health. He told himself they missed him, because he had become part of the furniture. Hermione worried if perhaps he had felt taken for granted, and moved on. Severus shrugged noncommittally. He didn’t think that was the reason at all.
Severus remembered the look of longing in the wolf’s face as he gazed at Hermione on the night of their last party. He had wanted her, of that much Severus was sure. But if that was the case, why did he look at Severus in the exact same way seconds later?
No. No, no, no, Merlin and the Pleiades, NO. I will not entertain the thought that Lupin has somehow developed—
The notion, Severus realised, was like a Sticking charm. Once it had been conjured into life, he couldn’t Obliviate it. Lupin had left them, because he had finally accepted to himself that he desired what he could not have, and could no longer bear to be in close proximity of the objects of his desire.
Both of them.
As the third month of his absence was drawing to a close and autumn blew its last, smoke-spiced breezes throughout England, Severus and Hermione watched the full moon wax and wane, and fretted about Remus.
They had just returned from visiting Andromeda Tonks, who lived in East Anglia alone. She was a sad, shadowy figure now; the death of her husband, her daughter’s estrangement from everyone, her own isolation from her disgraced family; all were taking their toll, and the witch who had once been called the ‘prettiest of the Black Family witches’ looked jaded and drawn. Severus was convinced she was drinking too much.
She was also completely unhelpful. She had seen Tonks only once in the last several months herself. “I tell you, I don’t know what happened,” she insisted, as if they’d accused her of withholding information. She sighed harshly. “My daughter has always been headstrong. If Nymphadora doesn’t want Remus anymore, he needs to accept that.”
“Why would he not accept it?” Severus asked casually, and Andromeda shot him a sullen, haughty look that reminded him too much of Narcissa at her elitist worst.
“It’s really none of my business, Severus,” she said, taking a sip of her tea. Her unspoken words hung in the air: and it’s none of yours, either.
“Do you think he’s safe?” Hermione whispered, as they watched the first snowflakes whirling in the white, wintry sky. “Three full moons have come and gone, Severus,” she said, worry and love warring in her face.
“Where ever he is, he’s got a lot of explaining to do,” Severus muttered, through clenched teeth.
The Yule holidays passed; Severus gave her a first edition copy of Hogwarts: A History, a week-long spa retreat in Ireland, and a stunning eagle feather quill with a golden nib. Hermione gave Severus a beautiful sterling silver cauldron, a set of stirring rods composed of ten different elements, and a rare book on Ceylonese Potions ingredients. “For that trip you’re going to take next year while I’m at the spa,” she said with a smile.
“The trip we’re going to take,” he corrected her. “I can join you at the spa afterward. Who knows? We might capture two Occamy eggs with one Niffler.”
Hermione laughed. Before her illness, they had spoken of taking a trip to Sri Lanka. Neither had ever been, and the potions ingredients there were some of the highest quality on earth. At the same time, they had considered starting a family. Severus had teased that Hermione would take advantage of the exotic locale and good tea to lull him out of the woods and into her netted bed so often they would come back with fewer ingredients than when they arrived.
“Well, it was a good idea at the time,” she said, with a warm glow in her eyes. Severus pulled her into his arms so swiftly she made a little squeal of surprise.
“I suggest we start preparing now,” he drawled, smirking down at her with unrepentant lust. “You will come with me, my girl. Refusal is not an option.”
She giggled girlishly. “I do love it when you get all ‘Potions Professor-y’ on me,” she said, somewhat breathlessly, and he playfully pinched her bottom just to hear her squeal of delight again.
“Detention, Miss Granger,” he growled, carrying her into their bedroom.
-o0o-
“Severus!” Hermione’s voice sounded shrill and alarmed. With his heart in his throat, Severus dashed from their cellar lab up the flight of stairs to the main part of their house.
“What is wrong, love? Are you ill—”
Remus Lupin was standing in the Floo, looking as if the only thing holding him up was his sheer force of will. Hermione had her arm around him, and was quickly losing the battle to keep him upright.
Severus caught him as he sagged to his knees, and Remus muttered, “I do apologise. I’m not quite myself.” He sounded exhausted and embarrassed, and managed to smile weakly at them. “It’s lovely to see you both looking so well.”
Then he fainted.
A quick Floo call to St. Mungo’s later, and Severus was dosing Remus with Strengthening and Nutrient Potions. He was dehydrated, hungover and suffering from a lack of food, but was otherwise surprisingly unharmed.
“Remus, where have you been? Severus and I have been frantic for news about you,” Hermione chided, after tucking him in the guest bedroom he’d used so many times during her illness. “No messages, no owls—even Andromeda didn’t know where you were.”
He sighed, and looked faintly angry. “She knew, Hermione. She just wasn’t inclined to share that information.” He lay back against the pillows. His mild eyes were sunken and haunted.
“You could have at least let us know you didn’t wish to be found,” Severus growled from the corner. “You’ve caused Hermione to fret over you, wolf.”
Remus looked stricken with remorse. “I’m sorry.” He turned to Hermione, seated by his bedside, and took her hand in his and kissed it fervently. “Please forgive me, dear Hermione. The last thing I want is to cause you to be upset.”
“She’s been worrying herself ill,” Severus muttered, pushing himself from the wall with his shoulders. “I realise what you do is your own affair, Lupin, but you could at least spare a thought for her.”
“Severus, please,” Hermione entreated, her eyes full of compassion, and gentle reproach. “Be honest, you’ve been just as worried.” She turned to Remus, who looked stricken with guilt. “We’re both so happy you’re back.”
Remus closed his eyes; a tear rolled down his cheek. “Forgive me. The idea that someone gives a damn is a bit overwhelming at the moment, Hermione.”
Hermione took his hand, and looked up at Severus, worry and compassion in her amber eyes. “I’ll get him a Calming Draught,” Severus replied tersely, with a nod.
Remus took the potion automatically, and downed it in one gulp. “Thank you, Severus.”
Severus nodded. “Do you wish to explain your absence?” he asked.
Remus nodded, and wiped away another tear as it threatened to fall. “Of course. But, tomorrow, if you don’t mind? I don’t think... I am not...” he gasped for breath, and Hermione held his hand as he wept.
“It’s alright, Remus,” she soothed, and when Severus came to stand behind her and place his hands on her shoulders, Lupin looked up at him. The hurt and misery in his eyes was so fresh and familiar Severus almost turned away. He’d seen those same haunted eyes in the mirror the day he knew Lily was James Potter’s, and would never be his.
-o0o-
During Hermione’s illness, she and Severus had developed a little ritual; he would bring her breakfast in the morning, and they would sit in bed, reading the Prophet and drinking their coffee over eggs and rashers. It had become such a comforting, bonding custom they decided to make it permanent, and as Severus carried a tray of eggs, soldiers and tea to their bedroom, another tray for Remus glided smoothly up the stairs behind him.
He deposited their breakfast on the bedside table, and trained his wand on the levitating tray following him. “I’ll be back shortly,” he informed Hermione. “Eat up while it’s hot.”
“Come in,” Remus answered, after Severus’ knock, and he smiled as the tray wafted onto his lap. “Thank you, Severus. This is most welcomed indeed.”
Severus nodded. “Good. I’ve got a large potions order to fill in the next several days. I could use an extra pair of hands.” He turned to go without waiting for an answer.
“There was another man, Severus.”
Severus looked back at Remus, confused. “What?”
Remus sighed. “After your party, I realised I had been using you and Hermione as an excuse to avoid talking to Nymphadora. Seeing you both so well and happy forced me to admit to myself I needed to see what I could do to salvage my marriage.” Remus ran a thin, trembling hand through his sandy hair.
“Andromeda warned me not to go, but I thought she was being protective. So I went to Sark to find Dora. I was going to surprise her and little Teddy.” He looked down at his breakfast tray.
“When I arrived, a man answered the door. I recognised him. He was the same man who’d approached Dora the night of the Order of Merlin ceremonies. Remember me telling you about the incident? It turns out they’d been seeing one another for months before the war. She was upset that night because he approached us with the idea of confronting me, but she wouldn’t let him.”
“Merlin,” Severus said, sitting on the edge of the bed. “Has he been there with her all this time?”
Remus nodded, his eyes bleak with pain. “Teddy calls him Dad. It’s like he’s been Obliviated of any memories of me. He didn’t know who I was.”
“Surely not,” Severus said, doubtfully. “I can’t imagine Nymphadora—” He couldn’t finish the sentence. The idea that she would do something of that nature was abhorrent, but could he swear she honestly wasn’t capable of it?
As if in answer to his thoughts, Remus shook his head. “Children are adaptive and flexible. I chose to stay away. Not that it would have made any difference how long it had been,” he added bitterly. He shrugged. “I’ve been told on no uncertain terms I am no longer a part of their lives. I signed the divorce papers before I left.”
Severus stood, knowing he should say something. He pitied the man. Remus had left them to find his wife and child, and had found himself alone and unwanted. Severus had himself felt that way on more than one occasion; it had taken years of Hermione’s gentle, loving insistence to leave that bitter, unloved man behind and embrace the role of beloved husband.
“I am... sorry for you, Remus,” he finally said. “Of course, Hermione and I will do whatever we can to help.”
Remus smiled at him. “I know you would, Severus. You’re both good, good people. I’m sorry I returned to you both such a broken man.” He forced himself to brighten. “But not a useless one, eh? Onward and upward, as they say. I’m still a young wizard; no doubt I’ll learn to make my way again.”
“You will stay with us,” Severus said, and his heart contracted. What in Merlin’s name had possessed him to make such an outlandish offer—without discussing it with Hermione?
Remus must have sensed the bewilderment and turmoil; he actually laughed. “Thank you, Severus, but I don’t think it’s necessary. Besides, I think Hermione might wish to be involved in any decision making of that nature, don’t you?”
“Absolutely, and she thinks it’s a fine idea.”
The two men turned to see Hermione standing in the doorway, still dressed in her nightrobe, looking tousled and sleepy and, to Severus, absolutely beautiful. She beamed at him, and crossed the room to kiss his cheek. “Thank you, dear. It’s a grand idea. You need help with the business, and Remus, you need to be surrounded by friends.”
He looked humbled. “Thank you, Hermione. You have both been so generous. Are you sure?”
Severus could hear the hope in his voice. It irritated him, for some reason. “Wouldn’t have made the offer, would I?” he asked. He nodded to the food and removed the warming charm. “Well, eat up. You’ve got to get your strength back. Those potions ingredients won’t chop themselves.”
He led Hermione from the room, just as Remus answered softly, “Yes, sir.”
Remus settled in, and gradually they grew accustomed to the new living arrangements. At first, Severus had been worried that the arrival of the last of the Marauders would mean a Gryffindor free-for-all at the Snape residence, but in all fairness, the ginger hordes managed to contain themselves. Harry Potter and Ron Weasley, however, joined them one Thursday evening for a game of cards, and a standing evening invitation was born.
The four men favoured the game Dark Wizard, a lethal form of Wizarding Poker not unlike the traditional seven-card stud in Muggle Poker, and more than one Friday morning was postponed by that fearsome malady the likes of which only a strong Sober-Up Potion could surcease. Hermione loved Thursday evenings. Her husband’s laughter mingling with her friends’ was something she never tired of hearing.
In Severus’ case, the general mixture of jovial banter and firewhisky also meant that Thursday nights often left him feeling blissfully relaxed and amorous, and after an especially athletic session of lovemaking, Hermione quipped that poker nights should be a nightly occurrence.
To Be Continued...
Snow Turns The World Deaf - on LiveJournal - Chapter Four
Snow Turns The World Deaf - on LiveJournal - Chapter Three
Snow Turns The World Deaf - on LiveJournal - Chapter One
Snow Turns The World Deaf - on LiveJournal - Chapter Two
Snow Turns The World Deaf - on LiveJournal - Chapter One
This is dedicated to stgulik, my amazing beta, who asked me so sweetly to write this fic I could not refuse, and I'm glad I didn't.
As always, I do not own these characters and make no money from the writing of this fanfiction.
Chapter Five
Remus started spending less time with Severus and Hermione over the next few days. His absences soon stretched into weeks, then a couple of months went by without a word from him. After his almost daily, steadying presence, they both felt the absence of it keenly. When they made discreet overtures to friends and family, no one seemed to know where he was or what he was doing.
It troubled Hermione, which in turn frustrated Severus. Hermione was a brilliant witch with keen intelligence and compassion; she cared about friends. Severus only really cared about how Remus’ absence affected Hermione’s health. He told himself they missed him, because he had become part of the furniture. Hermione worried if perhaps he had felt taken for granted, and moved on. Severus shrugged noncommittally. He didn’t think that was the reason at all.
Severus remembered the look of longing in the wolf’s face as he gazed at Hermione on the night of their last party. He had wanted her, of that much Severus was sure. But if that was the case, why did he look at Severus in the exact same way seconds later?
No. No, no, no, Merlin and the Pleiades, NO. I will not entertain the thought that Lupin has somehow developed—
The notion, Severus realised, was like a Sticking charm. Once it had been conjured into life, he couldn’t Obliviate it. Lupin had left them, because he had finally accepted to himself that he desired what he could not have, and could no longer bear to be in close proximity of the objects of his desire.
Both of them.
As the third month of his absence was drawing to a close and autumn blew its last, smoke-spiced breezes throughout England, Severus and Hermione watched the full moon wax and wane, and fretted about Remus.
They had just returned from visiting Andromeda Tonks, who lived in East Anglia alone. She was a sad, shadowy figure now; the death of her husband, her daughter’s estrangement from everyone, her own isolation from her disgraced family; all were taking their toll, and the witch who had once been called the ‘prettiest of the Black Family witches’ looked jaded and drawn. Severus was convinced she was drinking too much.
She was also completely unhelpful. She had seen Tonks only once in the last several months herself. “I tell you, I don’t know what happened,” she insisted, as if they’d accused her of withholding information. She sighed harshly. “My daughter has always been headstrong. If Nymphadora doesn’t want Remus anymore, he needs to accept that.”
“Why would he not accept it?” Severus asked casually, and Andromeda shot him a sullen, haughty look that reminded him too much of Narcissa at her elitist worst.
“It’s really none of my business, Severus,” she said, taking a sip of her tea. Her unspoken words hung in the air: and it’s none of yours, either.
“Do you think he’s safe?” Hermione whispered, as they watched the first snowflakes whirling in the white, wintry sky. “Three full moons have come and gone, Severus,” she said, worry and love warring in her face.
“Where ever he is, he’s got a lot of explaining to do,” Severus muttered, through clenched teeth.
The Yule holidays passed; Severus gave her a first edition copy of Hogwarts: A History, a week-long spa retreat in Ireland, and a stunning eagle feather quill with a golden nib. Hermione gave Severus a beautiful sterling silver cauldron, a set of stirring rods composed of ten different elements, and a rare book on Ceylonese Potions ingredients. “For that trip you’re going to take next year while I’m at the spa,” she said with a smile.
“The trip we’re going to take,” he corrected her. “I can join you at the spa afterward. Who knows? We might capture two Occamy eggs with one Niffler.”
Hermione laughed. Before her illness, they had spoken of taking a trip to Sri Lanka. Neither had ever been, and the potions ingredients there were some of the highest quality on earth. At the same time, they had considered starting a family. Severus had teased that Hermione would take advantage of the exotic locale and good tea to lull him out of the woods and into her netted bed so often they would come back with fewer ingredients than when they arrived.
“Well, it was a good idea at the time,” she said, with a warm glow in her eyes. Severus pulled her into his arms so swiftly she made a little squeal of surprise.
“I suggest we start preparing now,” he drawled, smirking down at her with unrepentant lust. “You will come with me, my girl. Refusal is not an option.”
She giggled girlishly. “I do love it when you get all ‘Potions Professor-y’ on me,” she said, somewhat breathlessly, and he playfully pinched her bottom just to hear her squeal of delight again.
“Detention, Miss Granger,” he growled, carrying her into their bedroom.
-o0o-
“Severus!” Hermione’s voice sounded shrill and alarmed. With his heart in his throat, Severus dashed from their cellar lab up the flight of stairs to the main part of their house.
“What is wrong, love? Are you ill—”
Remus Lupin was standing in the Floo, looking as if the only thing holding him up was his sheer force of will. Hermione had her arm around him, and was quickly losing the battle to keep him upright.
Severus caught him as he sagged to his knees, and Remus muttered, “I do apologise. I’m not quite myself.” He sounded exhausted and embarrassed, and managed to smile weakly at them. “It’s lovely to see you both looking so well.”
Then he fainted.
A quick Floo call to St. Mungo’s later, and Severus was dosing Remus with Strengthening and Nutrient Potions. He was dehydrated, hungover and suffering from a lack of food, but was otherwise surprisingly unharmed.
“Remus, where have you been? Severus and I have been frantic for news about you,” Hermione chided, after tucking him in the guest bedroom he’d used so many times during her illness. “No messages, no owls—even Andromeda didn’t know where you were.”
He sighed, and looked faintly angry. “She knew, Hermione. She just wasn’t inclined to share that information.” He lay back against the pillows. His mild eyes were sunken and haunted.
“You could have at least let us know you didn’t wish to be found,” Severus growled from the corner. “You’ve caused Hermione to fret over you, wolf.”
Remus looked stricken with remorse. “I’m sorry.” He turned to Hermione, seated by his bedside, and took her hand in his and kissed it fervently. “Please forgive me, dear Hermione. The last thing I want is to cause you to be upset.”
“She’s been worrying herself ill,” Severus muttered, pushing himself from the wall with his shoulders. “I realise what you do is your own affair, Lupin, but you could at least spare a thought for her.”
“Severus, please,” Hermione entreated, her eyes full of compassion, and gentle reproach. “Be honest, you’ve been just as worried.” She turned to Remus, who looked stricken with guilt. “We’re both so happy you’re back.”
Remus closed his eyes; a tear rolled down his cheek. “Forgive me. The idea that someone gives a damn is a bit overwhelming at the moment, Hermione.”
Hermione took his hand, and looked up at Severus, worry and compassion in her amber eyes. “I’ll get him a Calming Draught,” Severus replied tersely, with a nod.
Remus took the potion automatically, and downed it in one gulp. “Thank you, Severus.”
Severus nodded. “Do you wish to explain your absence?” he asked.
Remus nodded, and wiped away another tear as it threatened to fall. “Of course. But, tomorrow, if you don’t mind? I don’t think... I am not...” he gasped for breath, and Hermione held his hand as he wept.
“It’s alright, Remus,” she soothed, and when Severus came to stand behind her and place his hands on her shoulders, Lupin looked up at him. The hurt and misery in his eyes was so fresh and familiar Severus almost turned away. He’d seen those same haunted eyes in the mirror the day he knew Lily was James Potter’s, and would never be his.
-o0o-
During Hermione’s illness, she and Severus had developed a little ritual; he would bring her breakfast in the morning, and they would sit in bed, reading the Prophet and drinking their coffee over eggs and rashers. It had become such a comforting, bonding custom they decided to make it permanent, and as Severus carried a tray of eggs, soldiers and tea to their bedroom, another tray for Remus glided smoothly up the stairs behind him.
He deposited their breakfast on the bedside table, and trained his wand on the levitating tray following him. “I’ll be back shortly,” he informed Hermione. “Eat up while it’s hot.”
“Come in,” Remus answered, after Severus’ knock, and he smiled as the tray wafted onto his lap. “Thank you, Severus. This is most welcomed indeed.”
Severus nodded. “Good. I’ve got a large potions order to fill in the next several days. I could use an extra pair of hands.” He turned to go without waiting for an answer.
“There was another man, Severus.”
Severus looked back at Remus, confused. “What?”
Remus sighed. “After your party, I realised I had been using you and Hermione as an excuse to avoid talking to Nymphadora. Seeing you both so well and happy forced me to admit to myself I needed to see what I could do to salvage my marriage.” Remus ran a thin, trembling hand through his sandy hair.
“Andromeda warned me not to go, but I thought she was being protective. So I went to Sark to find Dora. I was going to surprise her and little Teddy.” He looked down at his breakfast tray.
“When I arrived, a man answered the door. I recognised him. He was the same man who’d approached Dora the night of the Order of Merlin ceremonies. Remember me telling you about the incident? It turns out they’d been seeing one another for months before the war. She was upset that night because he approached us with the idea of confronting me, but she wouldn’t let him.”
“Merlin,” Severus said, sitting on the edge of the bed. “Has he been there with her all this time?”
Remus nodded, his eyes bleak with pain. “Teddy calls him Dad. It’s like he’s been Obliviated of any memories of me. He didn’t know who I was.”
“Surely not,” Severus said, doubtfully. “I can’t imagine Nymphadora—” He couldn’t finish the sentence. The idea that she would do something of that nature was abhorrent, but could he swear she honestly wasn’t capable of it?
As if in answer to his thoughts, Remus shook his head. “Children are adaptive and flexible. I chose to stay away. Not that it would have made any difference how long it had been,” he added bitterly. He shrugged. “I’ve been told on no uncertain terms I am no longer a part of their lives. I signed the divorce papers before I left.”
Severus stood, knowing he should say something. He pitied the man. Remus had left them to find his wife and child, and had found himself alone and unwanted. Severus had himself felt that way on more than one occasion; it had taken years of Hermione’s gentle, loving insistence to leave that bitter, unloved man behind and embrace the role of beloved husband.
“I am... sorry for you, Remus,” he finally said. “Of course, Hermione and I will do whatever we can to help.”
Remus smiled at him. “I know you would, Severus. You’re both good, good people. I’m sorry I returned to you both such a broken man.” He forced himself to brighten. “But not a useless one, eh? Onward and upward, as they say. I’m still a young wizard; no doubt I’ll learn to make my way again.”
“You will stay with us,” Severus said, and his heart contracted. What in Merlin’s name had possessed him to make such an outlandish offer—without discussing it with Hermione?
Remus must have sensed the bewilderment and turmoil; he actually laughed. “Thank you, Severus, but I don’t think it’s necessary. Besides, I think Hermione might wish to be involved in any decision making of that nature, don’t you?”
“Absolutely, and she thinks it’s a fine idea.”
The two men turned to see Hermione standing in the doorway, still dressed in her nightrobe, looking tousled and sleepy and, to Severus, absolutely beautiful. She beamed at him, and crossed the room to kiss his cheek. “Thank you, dear. It’s a grand idea. You need help with the business, and Remus, you need to be surrounded by friends.”
He looked humbled. “Thank you, Hermione. You have both been so generous. Are you sure?”
Severus could hear the hope in his voice. It irritated him, for some reason. “Wouldn’t have made the offer, would I?” he asked. He nodded to the food and removed the warming charm. “Well, eat up. You’ve got to get your strength back. Those potions ingredients won’t chop themselves.”
He led Hermione from the room, just as Remus answered softly, “Yes, sir.”
Remus settled in, and gradually they grew accustomed to the new living arrangements. At first, Severus had been worried that the arrival of the last of the Marauders would mean a Gryffindor free-for-all at the Snape residence, but in all fairness, the ginger hordes managed to contain themselves. Harry Potter and Ron Weasley, however, joined them one Thursday evening for a game of cards, and a standing evening invitation was born.
The four men favoured the game Dark Wizard, a lethal form of Wizarding Poker not unlike the traditional seven-card stud in Muggle Poker, and more than one Friday morning was postponed by that fearsome malady the likes of which only a strong Sober-Up Potion could surcease. Hermione loved Thursday evenings. Her husband’s laughter mingling with her friends’ was something she never tired of hearing.
In Severus’ case, the general mixture of jovial banter and firewhisky also meant that Thursday nights often left him feeling blissfully relaxed and amorous, and after an especially athletic session of lovemaking, Hermione quipped that poker nights should be a nightly occurrence.
To Be Continued...
Snow Turns The World Deaf - on LiveJournal - Chapter Four
Snow Turns The World Deaf - on LiveJournal - Chapter Three
Snow Turns The World Deaf - on LiveJournal - Chapter One
Snow Turns The World Deaf - on LiveJournal - Chapter Two
Snow Turns The World Deaf - on LiveJournal - Chapter One
