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The next morning was Halloween.  The Potions master woke a little after six, feeling no better than when he'd gone to bed the night before.  In fact, he felt worse.  Opening the curtains surrounding his four-poster, he swung his legs over and sat up on the edge of the bed, burying his face in his hands.  Snape didn't understand why Lupin left him alone, confused, and unable to reciprocate the incredible pleasure he'd given--almost forced on--him the night before.

But he didn't force me, he thought miserably.  I begged him for it.  I really can't believe I did that.

Snape rose, dressed, and went down to breakfast.  He had to make an early start, since he needed to prepare the Wolfsbane Potion for the werewolf today.  Lupin also came down to breakfast early, not even looking at him, and took his customary place at the other end of the staff table.  Snape was surprised to find his heart felt as though it had plummeted in his chest.  Apparently what passed between them was going to be nothing more than a one-night stand.  And again he discovered he had no appetite.  After some unfruitful toying with his plate, he stalked out of the Great Hall--heading for the comfort, safety, and security of his dungeon.

Now he dreaded bringing Lupin the potion, once prepared.  What would he say, if anything?  He mulled this over and over in his mind as he chopped and added ingredients, stirred and simmered, for the first time so distracted he didn't notice the foul aroma permeating the dungeon.  Today marked the first Hogsmeade weekend of term.  If he had a mind, this would be the best opportunity to speak to Lupin, to ask why he'd rejected him so cavalierly.  With over half the students and staff in the village, there wouldn't be too many curious ears to overhear them.  When the potion was finished, Snape ladled some of the smoking brew into a goblet.  He then headed for the werewolf's office, rehearsing what he'd say as he walked.

Why did you leave me last night?  I usually prefer some sort of cuddling after anything so intense ... But you left me all alone--without a word, without an explanation, without even saying good night.  And after I'd humbled myself in what was possibly the most embarrassing way I've ever experienced.  I've never in my life begged anyone for anything, and I begged you, of all people, when I was so sure I wouldn't.  You broke my will ... with desire, that's what you did!  And then you abandoned me ... to my shame and my loneliness.  That's something I would do, not you.  Why would you do that to me?

Snape wanted to tell Lupin everything on his mind, to unload all these uncertain feelings.  He hoped the werewolf would say something--anything--to ease the troubled thoughts bubbling through his head in a manner entirely too reminiscent of the boiling cauldron he'd been bending over minutes before.  When he reached Lupin's office, his heart pounded in his ears.  Taking a deep breath, he licked his lips, preparing to enter speaking before the werewolf could cut him off.  Then he knocked on the door.

"Come in," Lupin's hoarse voice called from behind the door.

He opened the door and quickly stepped inside, and whom should he see in Lupin's office?

Potter.

Snape stopped dead in his tracks, the words dying in his throat.

Damn!  I'd forgotten Potter's family hasn't signed his Hogsmeade permission slip.  Of course he'd still be here in the castle.  But why is he here, in Lupin's office?  Even when he's not trying, Potter ruins all my plans!

His eyes narrowed suspiciously as Lupin smiled.

"Ah, Severus," the werewolf said.  "Thanks very much.  Could you leave it here on the desk for me?"

Snape's mind echoed the werewolf's words to him the night before:  I don't obey orders, Lupin ... But I will grant requests.

As the Potions master placed the goblet on the desk, his gaze flitted from Lupin to Potter and back again, trying to divine the subject of their conversation.  Perhaps I should consult Sibyll Trelawney, he thought with scorn.  Then, as if Lupin were reading his mind...

"I was just showing Harry my grindylow," the werewolf said, pointing, presumably in the direction of the tank.  Snape, however, never took his eyes off Lupin, whose tone was aggravatingly pleasant, as always.

"Fascinating."  I wonder:  Did Potter have to beg for the privilege?  "You should drink that directly, Lupin."

"Yes, yes, I will."

"I made an entire cauldronful," Snape said.

And I got up early to do so.  But you know that, don't you?  You saw me at breakfast, when you wouldn't even condescend to speak to me.  And I thought about you the whole time I was making this, wondering why you left me alone last night, and why it ... hurt so much.

"If you need more," the Potions master added.

"I should probably take some again tomorrow," Lupin replied.  "Thanks very much, Severus."

I don't want your thanks! Snape screamed in his mind.  I want your mouth on me again, as it was last night!  And I want you to stay afterwards!  Or at least to say a proper good-bye...

"Not at all," he answered, instead of shrieking, as he wanted to.

He then noticed Potter was paying him an undue amount of attention.  Was he reading all this on his face?  The hurt?  The shame?  The jealousy that the boy could have a moment alone with Lupin and he couldn't?  Snape struggled to keep his expression sufficiently blank.  Backing out of the room, he consciously forced his gaze to remain on Lupin, lest Potter's curiosity be piqued any more by a sudden jerk of the head in his direction.

Outside the werewolf's office, Snape leaned against the wall, his heart still pounding.  He didn't want to leave.  He wanted to rush back in, tell Potter to run along, and talk to Lupin about what he was feeling.  But he couldn't interrupt their pleasant tea--much too suspicious.  Just then, Filch rounded the corner, and Snape decided he'd best be off.  It wouldn't do to be caught loitering outside the werewolf's office.

He sulked all the way back to the dungeons.  Sitting at his desk with a sigh, he began to mark Potions homework, but his mind wasn't completely on the task at hand.  Halfway through Longbottom's abysmal attempt at a semblance of correct answers, Snape pushed all the parchments off the front of his desk.  Burying his face in his hands, he leaned his elbows on the desk and groaned.

"Is something the matter, Severus?"

Snape looked up suddenly to see the werewolf, smoking goblet in hand, leaning against the jamb of his open office door.

"Besides hopelessly thick students, you mean?  No, Lupin.  Nothing at all."

The werewolf smirked.  "You really are a dreadful liar.  Why do you even try?"

"Is there some purpose for this visit," Snape asked, glaring, "other than to regale me with your powers of observation?"

"Just returning your goblet," Lupin said pleasantly.  "Did you want to speak with me?"

"No, I was merely bringing your potion."

The werewolf shook his head, brows knitted.  "From the look on your face in my office, I could have sworn there was something on your mind."

"Well, you were wrong."

Lupin stepped inside, closing the door softly behind him.  When he continued, his tone was soothing.

"Severus, if we aren't honest with one another, this relationship will have virtually no chance."

"I wasn't aware we had a relationship," Snape said curtly, wishing he still had some parchment on his desk toward which he could turn his attention.  "After the way you deserted me last night and avoided speaking to me this morning at breakfast."  He sighed.  "I suppose I did want to talk to you--"

"I know."

"--but Potter was there."

Lupin frowned.  "Sorry about that, Severus.  Harry was looking a little down, missing the first Hogsmeade weekend and all.  I thought he might want to talk.  And I think you'll agree our students must come before our ... personal lives."

"Of course."

"As for not speaking to you at breakfast ... Well, I thought I would take your advice and attempt a little more discretion."

"That wasn't meant as advice," Snape whispered, shaking his head.  "Only as an excuse."

"I know, but discretion is never a bad idea.  And as to why I left ... I felt I owed you a little censure after the lycanthropy comment at dinner last night."

"No one heard me save you.  And all the staff know."

"That doesn't mean I enjoy having my defect thrown in my face at every turn."

"Perhaps that was somewhat insensitive of me," Snape said with a slight shrug.

The werewolf grinned.  "Since that's probably the closest to an apology I'll ever get, I'll accept it ... I shouldn't be vindictive ... Now, I've told you why I left.  Why did you want me to stay?"

"I ... I ... wanted to ... repay in kind."

With a nod, Lupin approached Snape's desk, setting down the goblet.  Bending, he gathered the rolls of parchment, which he piled on the desk.  The werewolf stood, smiling, and then he approached Snape's chair, sitting on the desk but leaning forward.  Lupin began to softly run his hand through Snape's hair.  He seemed surprised to discover Snape's hair wasn't greasy, as everyone thought--only silky, sleek, and exceptionally shiny.  Snape closed his eyes to better enjoy the werewolf's gentle touch.

"Relationships shouldn't be quid pro quo, Severus," Lupin whispered.  "I didn't do that in order to receive anything in return.  I did it ... well ... simply because I wanted to do it.  I wanted to see you lose control--cause you to lose control.  That was a reward unto itself."

"Why did you make me beg?" Snape whispered, finally opening his eyes.  He spoke almost inaudibly, but the werewolf seemed to hear him loud and clear.  Lupin folded his arms over his chest before answering.

"A few reasons.  One is I rather thought I'd like hearing it.  Another is I prefer consent never to be implied, but instead expressly spoken.  And, lastly ... well, it's all about control, isn't it?  I wanted you to not only lose control but also relinquish control.  A subtle difference, I'll admit, but it's there.  I actually planned to leave regardless.  I only left as I did for a punishment.  I would have willingly held you afterward, but I wouldn't have allowed you to ... 'repay in kind' last night, however you might have pleaded."

"Why not?" Snape asked, a great deal louder and higher in pitch than he'd intended.

"Because you need to learn to receive, Severus," Lupin said, again touching his index finger to Snape's nose.  "Without reciprocation.  Without feeling unworthy or selfish.  Without guilt.  That's the first step toward forgiving yourself.  I have no doubt you are capable of giving me pleasure--great pleasure--but for now, I want you to receive only, until you begin to think your wants and needs are worthy of consideration."

For a long moment, Snape simply stared at the werewolf perched on his desk.  He didn't know what to say.

"Why me?" he asked, at last.

"Why not you?" Lupin answered, smiling pleasantly.

"That's not an answer."

The werewolf chuckled.  "You're right.  And that was a fair question."  He sighed and cleared his throat.  "I suspect you and I have compatible tastes, Severus.  I think we'll be very good for one another."

"How do you know what my tastes are?" Snape asked.

"I don't know," Lupin replied with a shrug.  "I only suspect.  But I haven't been wrong so far with my speculations."

"But ... you hate me."

The werewolf's eyes grew wide.  "Whatever gave you that idea?"

"Your friends, Lupin ... in school--"

"I am not my friends, Severus.  I couldn't control Sirius or James or Peter any more than you could ... It's true, I didn't care for you much then, but I never had the chance to get to know you, either.  I'd like to now, if you'll let me.  Now that we are both older and, hopefully, wiser."

The werewolf seemed sincere.  In addition, he peered at Snape expectantly, apparently awaiting his answer as to whether the two of them might attempt a relationship.  Snape wanted to give his consent by pulling Lupin close, kissing him, and caressing him.  Instead, he simply nodded.

"I need to get back to work," Lupin continued, standing.  He walked to the office door, but stopped with his hand on the knob, turning back to face Snape.  "We--er--we probably shouldn't sit together at the feast tonight, but will I see you after?"

"Same time and place?" Snape asked.

"I'd like that," Lupin answered, again smiling pleasantly.

For once, Snape didn't get annoyed.  "Come in through the hearth this time."

Lupin nodded, opening the door.  When the werewolf left, the Potions master again unrolled Longbottom's parchment.  For some reason, marking his least favourite student's work didn't seem such a bad prospect at the moment.  After he'd finished the pile of parchments, Snape set up his cauldron to test a possible potion for a seventh year project.  Soon his stomach was grumbling.  Preparing the potion would have to wait until after lunch.  Snape was a light eater as a rule, but skipping breakfast had taken its toll.  Even though it was barely eleven, he decided it was now most assuredly time for lunch.  He didn't see Lupin in the Great Hall, but he hadn't expected to.  The werewolf had probably eaten his breakfast, so he wouldn't be down this early for lunch.

The afternoon passed quickly but, as far as Snape was concerned, the feast couldn't end soon enough.  His gaze gravitated toward the werewolf more often than normal, almost involuntarily, as though his eyes were acting all on their own.  Not that he was complaining--his eyes seemed to have exceptionally good taste.  Despite his shabby robes, Lupin had a presence that was prepossessing.  He had always known, logically, that Lupin was good-looking; he even supposed his obsession in school might have been due to feelings he wasn't ready to own at the time.

Snape was out of Hogwarts and a Death Eater before he could admit he fancied men.  Not that that realisation did him much good.  With the dangers involved in his spying and then the monastic life of teaching at a boarding school, he had accepted--in all probability--he would spend his remaining years alone.  He'd never imagined Lupin would come back into his life, and certainly never in this capacity.  But those promising words...

"I think we'll be very good for one another."

He couldn't get them out of his head.  Again he looked at the werewolf as he chatted, eyes glittering, with Professor Flitwick.  And then Snape felt the pull of another set of eyes.  A quick glance told him to whom they belonged:  Potter.

Damn!

The boy had been watching him and knew he was watching Lupin.  Snape frowned as he turned his eyes back to his plate.  He finished half of what remained, although he wanted none of it, estimating that would give him enough time to take his leave without arousing Potter's suspicions any more.  He then rose and walked out of the hall, intentionally strolling along the staff table so he could assess Lupin's reaction.  The werewolf's smile brightened just a bit as he passed.

Less than fifteen minutes after Snape crossed the threshold of his chambers, Lupin entered through the fireplace.  When the werewolf emerged from the hearth, Snape barely gave him time to brush the soot off his robes before falling into his arms.

"I've been thinking about you all day," he whispered.

"Same here," Lupin replied huskily.

"Did you notice Potter staring at me during the feast?"

The werewolf pulled back, looking puzzled.  Lupin then began to laugh.

"What's so funny?"

"Oh, I was just thinking of the look on Harry's face after you left my office this morning.  I think he thought you were trying to poison me."

"That explains his staring then."

They both turned at the knock on the door.  Professor McGonagall called from outside between furious bursts of knocking.

"Severus!  Severus!"

Without a word, Lupin bounded toward the bed, drawing the curtains as Snape opened the door.  McGonagall was flushed.  Snape didn't have to fake his annoyance.

"What's the matter, Minerva?"

"Trouble--Gryffindor Tower--Have you seen Remus?"

Shaking his head, Snape clutched her arm.  "I'll find him.  We'll be right there."

She turned and bustled away as Lupin peeked through the curtains.  Snape stepped into the corridor, looked both ways, and beckoned the werewolf out.  When Lupin had headed down the hall a few quiet strides and turned, starting back toward Snape, the Potions master bellowed.

"Lupin, where have you been?"

"I was ... looking for Dumbledore," the werewolf replied.

Professor McGonagall wheeled.  "Remus--Come quick--Trouble!"

When they arrived at the entrance of Gryffindor Tower, Dumbledore was already there.  As far as Snape could ascertain, someone had slashed the Fat Lady painting, she was in hiding, and Peeves was being his normally delightful self as Dumbledore attempted to have him to explain what had happened.  At the poltergeist's last words, Snape thought he'd be ill.

"Nasty temper he's got, that Sirius Black."

The entirety of his innards turned to water as the suspicions began.  He avoided looking at Lupin.  And then the staff separated, searching the castle.  Luckily Snape didn't have to see the werewolf during that.  But he couldn't stop his thoughts.

"I couldn't control Sirius ... any more than you could."  I've been duped.  That was all an act, so I wouldn't suspect him while he smuggled Black into the castle.  And he was conveniently with me when the alarm was raised.  How could I compromise the students' safety for a little bit of shagging?  Great shagging, no doubt--Stop!  Don't think that!  How could I possibly be so thick?  I'll have to speak to the headmaster as soon as possible.

But Dumbledore wouldn't listen.  He thought Lupin completely trustworthy and wouldn't hear a word against him.  Although Snape respected him, the headmaster could sometimes be a stubborn old fool!  Snape left the Great Hall--where the students would be spending the night--and he was not three feet outside when the most awful thought occurred to him.

Oh Gods!  I have to give Lupin the potion again tomorrow!