RATING: PG
WARNINGS: More slashy than not.
PAIRING: Lupin/Snape, Lupin/Black
SPOILERS: some for Book 3
FEEDBACK: I'm down on my knees, begging for it.
DISTRIBUTION: Secret Panel ( http://www.secret-panel.net), list archives; others need only say the magic word.
DISCLAIMERS: Lots of individuals and corporate entities can legally and credibly claim ownership of these characters; I'm not one of them. The song is "Space and Time" by The Verve, off their "Urban Hymns" album.
SUMMARY: An expanded scene from Chapter 4 of "Catching the Butterfly." Lupin tries to convince Snape that coming to terms with the past is the only way to deal with the future.

Remus Lupin regarded the man in front of him, studied the curve of his spine as he crouched behind the rock, and saw everything he needed to know in the tensed muscles.

They were lost. Not he and the man, but the small group of teenagers they had been following. Or more accurately, the small group of teenagers that were being followed by the man that Remus himself had been following. It was the bunching of muscles at the base of the man's neck that told Remus the man was highly exasperated - a not uncommon state for him, but the first time he'd shown evidence of it on this little sojourn. Therefore, Remus had concluded, the man had figured out were they were headed and was irritated that the children had strayed off-course.

As the kids tried to orient themselves, Remus decided now was the time to make himself known. Carefully composing his face to erase all traces of humor, he took a step forward and intentionally stepped on a small twig.

Instantly the man whipped around on the alert, wand at the ready. Their eyes met, and a moment or so after recognition the man lowered his wand.

"Severus," he said in greeting.

"Remus," came the cool reply.

"I see you got my owl," Remus said, approaching. Severus inclined his head noncommittally. Several nights ago, Remus had helped young Malfoy set up a series of spells the boy wanted to accompany the Sleeping Potion he had brewed. Draco hadn't revealed any details to him, but he'd been able to guess at some of it and he'd seen the words "Dear Harry" on the scroll before Draco had snatched it back. Remus had faith in Harry, so he'd gone along with the plan in a fit of compassion without judgment. Knowing Harry had his father's Invisibility Cloak, he'd even placed a branch by Draco's prone figure for Harry to drape the cloak over. Then he'd exited the cave, completed the last spell, and set up watch.

When a day had passed without anyone coming, Remus had begun to worry. Surreptitiously, he'd gone to the edges of Hogwarts and, observing Harry's despondency, had determined that it wasn't that the boy was rejecting Draco. It was that he had no idea what to do. So, although he'd sworn silence to Draco, Remus had sent an owl to Severus with just enough hints and intimations for him to figure things out and get Harry moving - if Severus chose to.

"I wasn't sure if you'd come." Remus half-smiled at Severus, who didn't bother to dignify the remark and turned instead to watch the young wizards. They seemed to have found their way and were moving again. Without a word to him, Severus followed as before. Openly now, Remus went with him, allowing himself a small smile at the observation that Severus looked exactly like an over-protective parent secretly escorting his children on their way. It all seemed to fit with what he'd put together about Severus over the years.

Remus glanced askance at the figure beside him, dark locks swinging by his face with each step. 'Greasy,' Sirius would call them, but Remus preferred to think of them as sleek. The quality of his smile changed subtly. Not so subtly that Severus wasn't likely to pick up on the innuendo; it was most difficult to sneak anything by him. Remus let the smile linger.

"Whoever would have thought?" he said quietly. When Severus deigned to throw him a quizzical glance, Remus explained, "Gryffindor and Slytherin in such a spirit of cooperation."

"Yes," Severus said dryly. "They're quite a sight." Remus gave him a careful look and, suspecting Severus of deliberately misunderstanding, chose not to correct him.

He could understand why Severus would not want to think about young Gryffindors and Slytherins together, considering the last time they'd tried it. Remus sighed inwardly, shades of melancholy tinting his smile now. //Someone should have kissed you, Severus Snape.//

When they were students at Hogwarts together, he'd had a crush on Severus. He hadn't told anyone about it, even his best friends, for fear of the derision he'd have to endure. It wasn't that Severus was beautiful, like Sirius Black, or charismatic, like - well, like Sirius. Remus hadn't known how to explain it at the time; he hadn't even really known what it was that drew him to Severus Snape. The boy had just been so *interesting* - he always went his own way and truly did not care what others thought of him. Remus wanted to know what made him tick.

//And truth be told, I still do.//

It had taken him nearly two years to write the note confessing his crush and inviting Severus to meet him in secret. He'd been working on getting the phrasing just right, bent over a table in a corner of the Gryffindor Common Room with his arm curled protectively around the parchment, when his friends had come in. He'd hastily shuffled scrolls
to conceal the note, but Sirius had been quicker and had snatched it up.

"Well, well," Sirius had said, eyebrows raised in amusement. "What have we here?"

"Give it back." Remus had tried to keep the desperation out of his voice, for boys were like dogs (and Sirius even more so); they could sense fear, and frequently took it as an invitation to attack.

Sirius had ignored him, of course. "Ooh, it's a *love* letter! Let's see who the lucky girl is, shall we?" He'd opened the scroll but, to Remus's immense relief, had merely scanned it silently. When he'd looked up at Remus again, there had been nothing but cold mockery in his eyes. "Severus Snape?" he'd said. "Please tell me this is a joke." Remus hadn't said anything; the blush that had crawled up his neck to his cheeks and ears had answered for him. "No way," Sirius had said then, proceeding to tear the note in half, and then in half again. "No fucking way, mate. Can't let you do it." He'd given Remus a crooked smile, as if to show it was all in good fun, but his eyes hadn't laughed with his mouth.

In fact, Sirius had seemed to avoid him for the next few days, and when they *were* together only made cutting remarks about the crush. Remus had been confused and upset, but hadn't known how to handle it since Sirius wouldn't talk to him. He'd just hoped it would blow over.

On the fourth day, he'd screwed up his courage and started writing a new note to Severus - only to be caught again by Sirius. "That tears it!" Sirius had shouted, overturning several chairs as he stormed off in a temper.

Hurt and baffled, Remus had turned to James and Peter. "Does he hate me? Does he find me disgusting? Is it - is it because I'm," he'd stopped and taken a deep breath to push out the last word, which lay so heavy on his tongue. "Gay?" he'd asked tentatively; it was the first time he'd said it aloud, the first time he'd consciously formulated it that way. He hadn't even been sure if it was true.

James and Peter had exchanged a look, and then James had taken Remus aside. "He's not turned off," James had said, so circumspectly that at first Remus had only looked at him blankly. "Quite the contrary, in fact." When no light had dawned in Remus's eyes, James had sighed and said, "Look, he's jealous, alright?"

"Jealous?" Remus had repeated. And then he said, "Oh," mentally grappling with the implications. "Oh!" He'd looked from James to Peter, seeking confirmation in their faces. "I had no idea..."

"I know," James had said, grinning ruefully at him. "And he wouldn't let us tell you. But you know now," he'd added.

Completely thrown by this new information, Remus had gone off to think alone. Sirius? His friend Sirius?

His friend Sirius.

The more he'd thought about it, the more obvious it had seemed. So the next day he put away the note and went to Sirius, and he'd had some of the best - the happiest, most loving - years of his life in Sirius's bed and at his side. At the crossroads of desire, Remus had chosen the comfort and stability of love founded on friendship. It was a good
choice. A wise choice. An easy choice.

He took the easy choice. He didn't take the risks of transgression and rejection.

Severus, though, never took the easy choice.

Months after they'd taken up together, Sirius found that fateful second note, which Remus hadn't even realized he'd kept. Sirius said later that he did it as a lark, but Remus could never escape the suspicion that it was slightly more than that: Sirius slipped the note to Severus on a night he knew Remus was transformed and sequestered,
naming the safe house as the meeting place. And Severus had had the courage to answer the letter that Remus had never dared to send. If not for James's conscience getting the better of him, that courage would probably have cost Severus his life.

Not that it had stopped Severus from taking risks, from going his own way. Remus glanced over again, looked at the other man's mouth, a thin hard line of determination and focus. No, that incident hadn't stopped Severus, though it might have embittered him. Remus dearly hoped it hadn't, just as he'd always hoped it hadn't influenced certain
decisions Severus had made later. Remus let his smile shift to self-deprecation now; as if Severus Snape would allow himself to be influenced by anyone, let alone Remus Lupin!

Still, he found himself saying, "It was real, you know." Severus glanced over, one eyebrow arched. They had never talked about it, immediately afterward or at any time since. There had been an undercurrent of tension between the two of them when Remus had returned to teach at Hogwarts a few years ago, but he'd thought it best to let sleeping dogs lie. That had proven a mistake. Maybe now, alone and under the cover of dark, he could do it. "That note-"

"This is neither the time nor the place." Severus cut him off with such immediacy that Remus couldn't help but wonder if he'd been thinking of it, too.

"In fact," Remus said quietly, "it's both." He paused, but Severus offered no contradiction. "Those kids will be alright. Draco will be alright." He paused again. "You're the one I'm worried about, Severus." The other man merely snorted.

// There ain't no space and time
To keep our love alive
We have existence and it's all we share
There ain't no real truth
There ain't no real lies
Keep on pushing 'cause I know it's there //

He wasn't aware he was singing aloud until Severus hissed, "What is that ghastly noise you're making? Stop it at once. You're too loud, and it's inappropriate besides." Remus couldn't help but note that when Severus told him to shut up, he didn't even look at him. Remus was certain that it wasn't just because of their history, either. Severus was focused unwaveringly on the young rescue party in front of them. Focused on and beyond them, to Draco. Along with everything else he'd seen tonight, starting with Severus's mere presence here, Remus took this dedication as confirmation that the rumors were, as he'd suspected, true.

Whether you chose to believe what the surface showed, that the man disliked children entirely, or whether you believed that surface only masked hidden desires - the fact from which many of the rumors stemmed was that Severus Snape could not have children of his own.

It was an odd thing to know about a man, but it was a thing that Remus nevertheless knew because he'd been in the right place at the right time to hear it. He and Sirius had been at The Three Broomsticks when they'd heard the name "Severus Snape" from the next table. When Sirius leaned over and mentioned that they'd been at school with Severus, they'd gotten casually drawn into a conversation about a broken engagement.

Severus had never seemed interested in girls in school. Not that he'd shown interest in boys, either - but somehow people looked at him and assumed. So it had come as a great surprise when, shortly after graduating Hogwarts, he had been seen with increasing frequency in the company of an attractive young witch named Kellen Wingfield. Their affair, though discreet as all things with Severus were, had apparently been serious enough that marriage was in the cards. And then abruptly, without explanation on either side, it had ended. "Course it did," said their new conversationalist, someone apparently in the know. "He's got no use for her, now that he knows he can't have
children."

Some - Sirius Black, for one - didn't believe that fact changed Severus in any way; like Black, they joked that Severus hadn't liked children even when he'd been one. But Remus didn't believe that. Severus wasn't Angus Finch. He certainly favored his Slytherin students above those from other Houses; favored the children he came to think of as his own, as Remus saw it. And Draco Malfoy above all.

"He really knew you, didn't he?" Remus said softly. "He got to you, even though he didn't get to keep you like he thought he would." //Someone should have kissed you, Severus Snape. And it shouldn't have been Malfoy.//

Severus stiffened but didn't look over as he whispered, "I have no idea what you're talking about, but I do wish you would be more quiet."

Remus again reviewed the facts of Severus Snape: he could not have children of his own; he had once been a Death Eater; and he had left the Death Eaters of his own accord, knowing the price for such a betrayal would surely be his own death. The rumors, so pervasive that nearly everyone believed them to be true, were that Severus had not walked away from You-Know-Who so much as from Lucius Malfoy.

It was from this amalgam of fact and gossip that another, more hushed, rumor had surfaced. Whether he came up with it of his own accord or whether prompted by You-Know-Who was a matter of debate for those who chose to discuss such things - but there were whispers about a deal Lucius had proposed Severus, as a reward for remaining a loyal Death Eater. The rumor that Remus had come to believe was that Lucius had offered Severus the one thing he wanted more than anything, and could never have through either natural or magical circumstances.

Lucius Malfoy had offered Severus Snape his only son.

Never one to take the easy, self-fulfilling way out of anything, Severus had walked away.

He'd walked away, but Remus suspected he'd looked back. Not in that exact moment of walking away, but nearly ever day since; Severus probably felt responsible for everything that had ever happened to Draco. Before he could stop himself, he said aloud, "It's not your fault," and Severus flinched. Remus went on gently, "They'd have done
their will unto the boy even if you'd stayed."

The alacrity and ferocity with which Severus reached him and threw him up against a tree caused Remus to wonder which of them was the wolf now. "What do you know about it?" Severus snarled, his face contorted with fear and rage.

Remus went limp in Severus's grasp, offering no resistance so as not to provoke him further. "I know you haven't lost him yet," Remus said quietly, pointedly. "He can still be saved." In the silent pause, as both confusion and understanding replaced the ebbing rage in Severus's dark eyes, Remus knew the man had heard the unspoken subtext - 'and so can you.'

Severus hadn't pulled away yet; he still held Remus to the tree. Their faces remained so close together they could feel each other's breath, one steady, one ragged. //Someone should have kissed you, Severus Snape,// Remus thought for the third time that night. //Someone still should.//

Suddenly there was a terrific *splash* followed by an explosion of light and shouts. Severus released Remus roughly as he started off in the direction of the commotion, muttering, "Honestly, I can't take my eyes off them for a second."

With a smile colored by regret and admiration, Remus watched him go to the rescue. Following alone, without Severus to hush him, he resumed singing softly to himself:

// There'll be no lullabies
There'll be no tears cried
We feel numb 'cause we don't see
That if we really cared
And we really loved
Think of all the joy we'd feel //

Hope inflected the smile Remus wore now. He knew this was not over. He knew it, because Severus Snape never took the easy choices.

the end

FINAL A/N: Muse!Lupin seems to have taken up the mantle of my obsessions with The Verve and with Snape. When he shared with me his theories on Snape, I told him I thought it might well make both of us look insane. He merely said, "that's what fic is for, isn't it?" and smiled sweetly until I wrote this...