innerslytherin | Redemption - Part 3

Recovery

Prompt: 82 - Potions
Pairing: Remus/Severus
Warnings: Preslash
WC: 1609
Series so far:
1. Reconciliation 2. Rehabilitation 3. Recovery 4. Reply 5. Rediscovery 6. Receiving
7. Repartee 8. Relapse 9. Requisite 10. Retreat 11. Refining 12. Repose 13. Reconsidering
14. Renaissance 15. Retribution 16. Return 17.Rematch 18. Redefining 19. Relishing
20. Recognition 21. Remembering 22. Refrain 23. Reformation 24. Recrimination 25. Reliance
26. Reverting 27. Repercussion 28. Reminder

He tells himself that he doesn't have to do this, that he has nothing to prove. When that fails, he tells himself it's merely professional pride that he is still the greatest Potions Master in all England. When that, too, fails to ring true, he snarls and tells his reflection that he would be remiss if he allowed an injured werewolf to remain untreated and possibly go feral because of it. "You believe whatever you want, dear," the mirror replies. He hexes it into several pieces (he's already had forty years of bad luck; what are seven more?) and Apparates to St Mungo's. The dummy recognizes him and lets him in right away. It saves him the humiliation of saying aloud that he's here to see Remus, but it also makes him think he's been here too often.

Remus is sitting in a chair, staring out the window. Severus wonders if he walked there by himself or had to be lifted, and if it embarrassed him to be lifted. He wonders if Remus hates asking for help as much as Severus does. Severus strides in without bothering to knock, crosses the room, and sets a flask on the table in front of him.

Remus looks up at him, smiling. "Good afternoon, Severus," he says quietly.

"Feeling better?" Severus asks gruffly. He hovers, wondering if he is allowed to sit.

Remus shrugs. "The Healer says that periods of depression are inevitable, if embarrassing," he says, adjusting the blanket draped over his lap. Severus finds himself intensely curious about the extent of the injury.

"I think it's safe to say I understand," Severus says dryly.

"Yes, you've been through quite a few life changes yourself, haven't you," Remus remarks thoughtfully. "Will you join me? They serve tea in a few minutes." He still hasn't asked about the flask between them on the table.

"Thank you," Severus says, and sits, awkwardly. He rests his hands on the carved wooden arms of the chair until he realizes he has a white-knuckle grip on them. Then he folds them in his lap, clasping them together.

"How have you been?" Remus asks politely, golden eyes fixed on Severus' face.

Severus shrugs. He finally settles on "Bored," for a reply.

Remus laughs quietly. "Oh, is that why I've had the pleasure of your company three weeks in a row now?" he asks.

Severus scowls and he begins to stand, but Remus' face instantly becomes contrite and he reaches a hand out--though he does not touch Severus, because Severus does not allow people to touch him, and Remus of all people surely has learned this. All the same, Severus understands the gesture, and allows himself to sink back into the chair again.

"I didn't mean it as a complaint, or a mockery," Remus says. He speaks slowly, as if choosing his words with care. His gaze is bright on Severus' face. "I'm glad you've come to visit me. I appreciate that you've brought things to alleviate the boredom. I've worked several of the puzzles, by the way." He seems tense, though Severus doesn't really blame him. They have never exactly been friends. It must be difficult to talk to Severus like this. Then Lupin stops talking and Severus realizes he must reply.

"Yes..." he says, equally slowly. He glances down at his clasped hands. "I...remembered that letters from Minerva were the only thing I had to look forward to, while I was in Azkaban." He closes his eyes briefly. The prison is no longer guarded by Dementors, but a grey stone keep in the northernmost reaches of Scotland is quite dreary enough, and the aura of despair has never left it.

"You were there for how long?" Remus asks quietly.

Four months, ten days, and sixteen hours. Severus shrugs. "How long have you been here?" he asks.

Remus tilts his head back and studies the ceiling. "I've been here for nearly two months," he replies, his voice low. "But that was several weeks after the last battle, or perhaps a bit longer." He lowers his chin and studies Severus, his head cocked slightly to the side. Severus wonders if he looks any better sideways. "Funny how time stretches, isn't it?" Remus asks.

"Not if you're in prison," Severus says, his voice hollow.

"I would have written to you," Remus says quietly. He is not looking at Severus. "If I thought it would be welcome."

Severus is silent. He knows that he has never been welcoming towards Remus. He doesn't know why Remus has been so welcoming towards him, wonders how he even worked up the courage to come visit Remus in hospital. He supposes it is because he knew, before coming here, that Remus was crippled. He'd heard that from Hermione Granger-Weasley long before he came here.

"Did I make you angry?" Remus asks, his voice even quieter. "I didn't mean to upset you."

Severus doesn't know what to say--doesn't know if he can say anything. The very idea that Remus Lupin wouldn't want to upset him is ludicrous. Remus should hate him. Remus should want to see him dead, or at the very least in Azkaban, for all the sins he has committed. It is strangely easy, now, for Severus to overlook all the times Remus allowed his friends to be cruel to him, the way Remus humiliated him in front of the students, the way Remus made Severus want him...

Severus shakes his head.

A young woman in a red-and-white striped robe bustles in with a tea tray. "Oh, you have a visitor, Mr Lupin!" she says. "How nice."

"Thank you, Izamar," he says pleasantly as she sets the tray on the table. It brings their attention to the flask. "What is this, Severus?" he asks, his voice oddly gentle.

Severus waits until Izamar has gone before answering. He has to force himself not to mumble. "You said you were having trouble with the pain potions they were giving you." He keeps his gaze on the flask, unable to meet Remus' eyes. "I did some investigating and decided that the likeliest culprit is the potions they've been using to rebuild your muscle. This pain potion shouldn't interact badly with it."

He startles when Remus' hand enters his field of vision and touches his arm. But he looks up, and is astonished at the warmth of Remus' gaze. Severus begins to relax.

"I can't tell you grateful I am," Remus said. "It's the loveliest thing anyone has done for me lately."

Severus feels himself turning scarlet, and wonders if he ought to yell. Lupin shouldn't thank him for things. Lupin shouldn't feel grateful. He ought to take it as his due. It takes several heartbeats for Severus to decide that shouting at Lupin won't help the situation. It's still tempting.

He shrugs. "It wasn't any trouble," he mutters, and looks out the window. The view cannot be real. The sun is shining over a green, tree-lined patio.

Remus chuckles. "I'm sure you wouldn't admit to going to any trouble over me, even if you had," he says. "How do I take it?"

Severus gives one last shrug, feeling as if he is settling himself back in his skin. "The flask should last you at least a week, preferably two," he says. He draws a small vial out of his pocket. "Pour yourself this much when the pain is moderate. Fill the vial twice if the pain is excruciating."

Remus nods and takes a sip of tea. "Could...ah, that is, would you be willing to pour me a vial now?" he asks, his tone odd.

Severus inspects him, wondering how bad the pain actually is. "You should lie down before taking it," he cautions. "I don't know how it will react with your system."

The other man grimaces and sighs. "If I do that, I'll have to ask you to help me to the bed," he says quietly. "We've never been good at asking or accepting help, have we, Severus?"

"I suppose not. So don't ask." Severus stands, feeling an odd tightness in his chest. He extends one arm, which Remus grasps to pull himself to his feet. Then, with the werewolf leaning heavily on him, Severus makes his way to the bed. Severus doesn't overlook Remus' clenched jaw and flared nostrils, the heavy intake of breath, or the inaudible sigh of relief he gives when he is settled back into bed.

Severus pours a vial full of potion and watches as Remus tilts his head back, his Adam's apple bobbing as he swallows, his eyelids fluttering slightly closed. Severus takes the vial back and refills it, holding it out. Remus looks at him, his gaze half questioning and half defensive.

"I have lived far too intimately with pain to be deceived," Severus says quietly, and Remus accepts the second vial.

This time, when he hands it back, their fingers brush, and Severus sucks in a small breath. He is pathetically grateful even for the small contact they have had, and it angers him. But he takes another deep breath and nods. "Don't stint on the potion," he says. "It has addictive qualities, but that's not something that should worry you. There are other potions to ease the withdrawal, later."

Remus sighs something that sounds like "thank you" but is so faint Severus has to lean close to hear. The werewolf's golden eyes flutter closed, then open again. "You're kinder than I deserve," he says, too clearly. Then they close again.

Severus allows himself the small luxury of brushing the other man's greying hair back from his forehead. "I'll see you next week," he whispers.

Current Mood: content

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

From:

cindale.livejournal.com

I'm goign to have to start reading this. *sigh* I've sort of sworn off reading fanfiction, except for CM-HG stuff, but you're too good of a writer. I'll have to start at the beginning, though. Brat. Why do you have to write so well? :*

From:

Skaikru

Redemption - Part 3 - Recovery

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