The Light In The Darkness

The word looked so innocuous in print. The werewolf’s monthly transformation is painful, but short-lived…’ Severus felt the irrational desire to annihilate the tome…or better yet, its author.

He did not understand how every book he came across could speak of lycanthropic transformations with the same clinical detachment that one would use when describing how a caterpillar turned into a butterfly. Caterpillars might not have any choice in their transmutation either, but they did not scream bloody murder while their bodies were broken down and reformed in a matter of minutes…and they only had to go through it once in their entire futile existence, not on a monthly basis. There was also the little detail of them turning into a beautiful butterfly and not a mindless, ravenous animal that was hated and feared above all others.

“You’re going to burn a hole through that book, glaring like that,” commented a soft, hoarse voice. The obsidian-eyed man turned his head, to see Remus attempting to raise himself on his elbows. The tight set of his muscles told Severus that the scarred man would not manage the act without damaging himself.

“Stop that,” the raven-haired man commanded as he tossed the offending book onto the bedside table carelessly. He stood and closed the few feet between himself and his lover’s bed, perching on the edge of the mattress. “It is only six hours past moonset; you’re not strong enough to rise…you aren’t normally awake yet.”

The fawn-haired man glanced at the window and frowned lightly at the early morning sun before turning to the taller man with a curious expression. “You’re right…do you think it’s…the new formula?” His breathing was shallow and his face was drawn; even though he had obeyed the command to stop trying to rise, he was still in pain.

“Most likely;” Severus weakly attempted his usual apathetic expression as he brushed Remus’ hair away from his eyes. He was pleased to see that, though the lycanthrope’s skin was pale and tight, his eyes were strong and warm. “It still didn’t work however…you still injured yourself.”

The brown-eyed man looked at his lover sympathetically and opened his mouth to speak, but Severus cut him off, knowing what he was about to say. “Don’t you dare apologise.”

Remus studied the other man for a moment before offering a mild smile and replying quietly; “I won’t if you won’t.”

Severus shook his head despondently, lowering his voice as well. “It’s been years.”

The scarred man nodded patiently and reached for a sallow-skinned hand, which captured his own as soon as Severus noticed the movement. Remus continued to smile up at him. “You knew it could take years…decades even…when you started. You told me as much.”

“I am known as one of the most promising potion brewers in all of Britain…so is Belby. I had hoped that with the two of us consulting on it…”

“You’re still only human, love.” Remus caressed the potion-stained fingers that wove between his, “But you’ve made so much progress…in potions and research into Dark Creatures-”

“Never. Call. Yourself. That.” Severus clipped out as his gaze turned stern. “I have worked among Dark Creatures, and you…” Obsidian eyes softened slightly as they met a gentle gaze, “You are nothing like them.”

The lycanthrope stroked Severus’ fingers with his own as his smile faded and turned sad. “I’m s-”

Obsidian eyes squeezed shut as Severus tightened his grip on the other man‘s hand; “Don’t apologise.”

The sound of Remus inhaling deeply caused Severus to open his eyes several seconds later. He found the brown eyes closed as his had been, and Remus pressed the palm of his free hand to his forehead before running it through his hair. The thin hand finally rested beside its owner as he released another deep breath.

The werewolf blinked several times, erasing a little of the sorrow and frustration in his eyes each time, before they finally remained open and clear. Brown eyes caught obsidian ones watching them, and Remus offered a tired, apologetic smile. “So-” His jaw practically snapped shut and he squeezed his eyes closed as he took another deep breath before simply nodding.

Severus waited until Remus’ face smoothed and his eyes opened again, revealing their usual strength and warmth, before he rubbed is thumb over the back of Remus’ hand. Then, he sighed. “I’m sorry, Remus. I swear, if either of our fathers were still alive I’d poison them… Yours for taunting that damnable Greyback and then raising you to feel the need to compulsively apologise and placate everyone around you, and mine for leaving me with no clue how to comfort you other than to bark out orders and-”

“You comfort me just fine, Severus,” Remus interrupted smoothly, “Better than anyone else could ever hope to…not that you have any competition to worry about, mind.”

“There you go, placating me again…”

“That’s not placating, it’s consoling,” corrected the werewolf. Then, his eyes took on a teasing glint; “Besides, you’re already trying to break me of apologising anytime I’m sorry, tearing myself up during the full moon, biting my nails, walking with my head bowed, and hunching when I sit…aren’t I allowed any bad habits?”

“No,” Severus replied immediately with a small smirk. “I have enough for us both.”

“Well, that’s true I suppose…”

Severus swatted the werewolf lightly before his expression smoothed and he ran his free hand through his lover’s hair. “How do you manage comfort me…when you’re the one-” He sighed and simply gestured over Remus, no longer trusting his voice.

The scarred man grasped Severus’ other hand and lightly squeezed both; “Because you’ve already comforted me more than words can say by just being here when I woke up…by touching me and being with me even though you know what I am.”

“What you are…?” Severus repeated softly. “You’re better than I deserve.”

“I’m sorry,” Remus replied with a smile, “But I disagree.”

The raven-haired man shook his head, but smirked in return. “Don’t apologise…”