For all Joy wants Eternity

For all Joy wants Eternity

Chapter 20

And love dares you to care for
the people on the edge of the night
And love dares you to change our ways
of caring about ourselves
This is our last dance
This is ourselves
under pressure
-David Bowie & Queen-


His head still ringing with Moody\'s last words, his body still
shaking with the violence of his own sense of guilt,
self-disgust, exhaustion and pain, Severus let the hot water
from the shower pour over him, inhaled the dense steam until
his nose and throat prickled from the inside, and tried to
drain his mind of all possible thoughts for once.

It didn\'t work, though. The attacks of recollection had not
stopped since the Auror had voiced the first word
of his accusations. Pictures, noises and smells kept invading
Severus’s mind over and over again. The events from the previous
night and the morning after repeated like a flip-book before his
inner eye, with scraps of images, sensations and sounds
flashing in and out. Death Eater masks, desperate voices, his
wand in his hand, a starry night sky, green lightning, red eyes,
pain, darkness, red eyes, more pain, the smell of decay, more
pain, more memory, more pain...

With a violent, highly abrupt movement, the Slytherin turned
off the water and gratefully welcomed the slight shock of his
heated skin being hit by cold air as he stepped out of the
shower. Anything distracting his brain from circling the past
twenty-four hours was a relief.

He would have given a lot for Albus\'s Pensieve right now.

The towel that was rubbing over the still open cuts and bruises
that were by no means confined only to his face made the
Slytherin wince, but the idea of magically healing the injuries
Voldemort had inflicted on him this very morning had not yet
entered his mind before he already dismissed it again.
Taking care of himself had not only stopped being relevant
when he lost his body to the Dark Lord, it was rather a
totally undeserved treat, something that was not for him. He
knew it was irrational, was well aware that it wouldn\'t rectify
anything, but still, after what he had done the previous night,
after Moody\'s words that had burned themselves into his mind,
it somehow felt *right* to hurt. Severus even had the feeling that
he didn\'t hurt enough. Not yet. But maybe he\'d be lucky. Maybe
that would come later today. He was pretty sure that it would.

Merely noticing the cool cloth of the dressing gown he had
just slipped on, Severus left his bathroom without even
thinking about toweling his hair. There were still more than three
hours before he would have to leave for St. Mungo\'s, enough
time to rest a little, enough time to finally think
his mission through, to make some plans which would be in
vain anyway, to *truly* become aware of what was ahead of
him. Of all of them.

Enough time for his hair to dry.

With a sigh and a resigned glance at his still shaking hands,
the Slytherin let himself fall into one of the chairs in front of the
fire and closed his eyes. For the first time since he had
returned to Hogwarts he was not bothered with memories from
the latest Death Eater attack, but felt the first signs of
profound exhaustion instead, which so far had been kept at bay
by the course of events and the essentials that being a spy entailed.
His body seemed to grow heavier every second and a
glutinous numbness began to creep up his limbs. The weight
dragging his lids down became more and more irresistible and
his mind began to retreat somewhere into the most remote
regions of his skull. It would be so easy to give in, to fall
asleep right here and right now, so very easy, and he was so
tired, so tired...

Severus\'s eyes flew open at the short knock at his door.

Remus.

The spy was aware of his visitor\'s identity before the last
traces of sound had ceased, still he d't m't make the
slightest move to reach for his wand and lower the wards to
his rooms, not even to voice an answer. For several seconds,
the Slytherin simply sat in his chair, still as a statue,
and stared at the closed, unmoving door until his eyes began
to water. Until he wasn\'t sure anymore if there had ever been
any sound announcing the werewolf\'s presence at all.

Which was, exactly, when the knock reached his ears again,
this time accompanied by Remus\'s soft voice, a little distorted
by the thick wood between them, but still unmistakable.

\'I promise I will leave as soon as you tell me to, Severus.
But please *do* tell my something! Don\'t leave me standing
here like this.\'

A grimace of pure frustration contorted the Slytherin\'s
face when he let his head fall aginst the back rest behind
him. The last thing he needed now was to be forced to make
decisions. He didn\'t feel that his mind was capable of any
coherent action at the moment, he didn\'t even know how he
*felt* about the idea of facing the Gryffindor right now.
The only thing he was definitely sure about was the that he
was not ready to make choices like sending Remus away or
asking him in. There had already been too many choices and
decisions for him to make today. All he wanted was someone
else to take over responsibility for what would happen. He
wanted to not be the one to blame for once.

So Severus reached for his wand on the low table beside him.
With a voice loud enough he knew it would carry to the
werewolf outside, he spoke the spells that would leave his
door ready to be opened, but he did do nothing more, leaving
it up to Remus whether he saw fit to enter even though
he\'d not been explicitely invited. Filled with a strange
uncertainty about how to deal with the Gryffindor *should*
they face each other within the next seconds, the spy leaned
back in his chair once more. And waited.

It would not have taken the slight, almost inaudible
sqeaking of the door on its hinges to tell him that Remus
had chosen not only to stay but to come in as well. The
Slytherin\'s worn and overstrained body reacted as soon
as the werewolf had crossed the threshold, with a cold wave
of alarm washing over the spy despite the profound
weariness that had almost made him fall asleep only a few
minutes before. Unable to resist or even try to summon the
mental strength necessary to fight the sudden urge to escape,
Severus gave in to the first impulse that gripped him at
Remus\'s entrance and more or less jumped up from his seat.
But not even the hurried steps over to the book shelf brought
enough distance between him and the Gryffindor to free the
spy from the surge of panic that boiled inside him. A distant
part of his mind registered that he responded in an unusually
drastic way to Remus\'s presence, and the same weak resort
of rationality blamed that fierce reaction on the enormous
strain from the previous hours, on the utter exhaustion
which was depriving him even of the pathetic remnants of
strength he normally fought the ritual with, especially
when Remus was around.

On a much more unconscious level, a nebulous thought was
whispering about other reasons for the Slytherin\'s momentary
lack of readiness to oppose the effects of his bond with the
Dark Lord. Reasons that had to do with the powerful sense of
guilt and self-loathing working their way through Severus ever
since last night\'s events, which had only been intensified
by Moody\'s reproaches.

Severus would never find out whether it was the abysmal
fatigue or the subconsious willingness to be punished for
what he had done that caused his completely passive acceptance
of the mental and physical torture ahead. The effects of the
three marks on his chest were now fiercely, mercilessly
attacking his body and mind full force, hurling him into
a violent vortex of the painfully familiar sensations
another body\'s closeness induced.

He had no idea for how long he\'d been defenselessly exposed
to the violent and multifaceted assault the werewolf\'s
presence had produced, for how long he\'d been cut off from
reality, unaware of anything happening around him. He also did
not know *what* it had been in the first place that made it
possible, but Severus eventually, finally noticed the ritual\'s
effects slowly easing off. With a careful and still heavily
shuddering breath, the Slytherin slowly lifted his head, not yet
ready to trust the ebbing away of the complex torture which had
been dominating him only moments ago. Still, the world around
him gradually came into focus again, he felt how his heartbeat
began to decelerate, how the storm that had been raging
through his nerves calmed down, and how his muscles were
slowly relaxing, one after another. The gratitude flooding the
spy when he found himself again in the safety of his own
quarters was overwhelming, as was the relief when his eyes
were finally able to realize the familiar surroundings, when he
was welcomed by well-known colors and smells.

As well as by the accustomed figure of Remus Lupin standing
in front of the door.

Which was a severe understatement. The werewolf was
literally pressing himself against the dark wood, his fingers
clawing into the surface as if he had tried to dig himself
deeper into the massive material in a desperate and futile
attempt to increase the distance between himself and the
Slytherin. Severus knew that the pain written over Remus\'s
expressive face was only for the spy\'s desperate struggle that
the Gryffindor had just witnessed, as well as for the
werewolf\'s awareness that he himself had been the trigger
for it all. Still, the compassion that was screaming from
Remus\'s eyes was deeper, more desperate than ever before,
and for a short moment, Severus was sure this was due to
his own re-awakening senses simply emphasizing his
perceptions. But only for a moment.

Then he abruptly became aware of the sight he must be.

A quick glance down his body confirmed the spy\'s worst
fears. The dressing gown must have fallen partly open from
his reaction to the torture caused by the ritual\'s effects;
his left shoulder was completely exposed, as were great
parts of his torso. The soft light from the fire perfectly
illuminated each and every slash the Dark Lord had left on his
body a few hours ago, the bite-marks on his shoulders and
neck, the bruises that were covering his abdomen.

The three symbols of blood, semen and venom encircling his
heart.

Severus knew he should have immediately drawn the cloth
about his body again. Should have covered the evidence of
his complete submission, whether it once had been
offered of his free will or not, to the Dark Lord. Should
have listened to his fiercly screaming pride which ordered
him to keep this moment of unveiling and utter humiliation
as short as possible. Still, the Slytherin didn\'t as much
as move while he felt the weird mixture of abhorrence,
sympathy and terror that was Remus\'s glance gliding over
the violated skin of his body. Under usual circumstances,
the degree of indifference that had taken hold of him would
have given the spy more than a little shock, but aware of
what was behind and what was still awaiting him today, in
the face of what he had done the night before, Severus\'s
mind was not in a state to fight the apathy it had chosen
to resort to. He accepted the exposure of the evidence of
his downfall as he had accepted the ritual\'s onslaught
only moments ago. And probably, he did so for the same
reasons.


-------------------------------------------------------------


Remus was almost frightened by the shock the sight of the
Slytherin\'s body had given him. He had known, after all, that
Severus had gone through exactly the same treatment all the
Dark Lord\'s victims did. It had not been difficult to imagine
what kind of marks that would have left. He had also already
seen the three figures of Voldemort\'s ritual, even though
they had only been on parchment. The Gryffindor had studied
the shape and lines of the symbols in the book the Slytherin
had given him with a caution and exactness that had verged
on obsession, and had anybody asked him he could have
drawn each of the three marks in detail by heart.

But actually seeing them carved into the Slytherin\'s body
gave rise to a vicious stinging in Remus\'s own chest. The
sight of Severus\'s doom irrevocably left its brand on the
werewolf\'s soul, and the Gryffindor was hit by the sudden,
painful realization that all the honest understanding he so
far had evinced for the spy\'s situation had only covered a
small part of the truth. All his awareness, all his precise
knowledge had merely scratched the surface of what the
ritual represented, and as hard as it was for Remus to admit
to himself, it was only the substantiality of the thrice
marked body under his horrified gaze that finally let him
recognize the entire scale of what the Slytherin had given
himself over to. For a few tantalizing seconds, before he
quickly closed off his mind again in purest terror, the
werewolf was almost able to feel the bond the spy and the
Dark Lord shared, sensed the powerful connection
that did not tolerate any intruders and momentarily
perceived the destructive energy it fired Severus\'s way.

The impact of that dreadful impression literally knocked
the wind out of the Gryffindor. But the realization of his
own helplessness was even worse. All his skills, all his
outstanding knowledge about how to defend himself and
others against the Dark Arts was nothing in the face of that
most complex structure of dominance and submission, and
Remus\'s entire being was aching for the one who had first
been naive and then desperate enough to choose enduring a
self-loss like that. The Gryffindor had already been deeply
disturbed about the level of dark magic involved in the ritual
when he had first read about it. Now that he was truly
understanding the bondage\'s verity for the first time,
the profoundness and perfection of how malice had been
transfered into magic left the werewolf speechless with horror.
The world around the Gryffindor had been degraded to a
pathetic backdrop for the most perverted and terrible drama
he could imagine. He didn\'t feel the hard wood at his back or
how his cramped fingers had begun to ache, he had forgotten
about the war and the decisive stage of it that they were in. All he
could do and think of was to continue to stare at Severus\'s
exposed torso, continue to struggle with his own dawning
awareness, with the attempt to grasp the new quality of
suffering that had been revealed to him. But most of all, he
struggled with the burning urge for words, knowing at the
same time that there were no words that could ever comfort,
nothing that would ever be able to cnicanicate the degree
of comprehension the werewolf had just attained. His mind
had capitulated before the unspeakable extent of the Dark
Lord\'s calculating cruelty. So instead of speaking, Remus
finally managed to tear his eyes away from the three symbols
surrounding Severus\'s heart and searched for the Slytherin\'s eyes.

They were standing that way for a long time, even though
neither of them was aware of the minutes and seconds
passing, the ongoing glance they shared being the only
connection between spy and werewolf. Aside from his own
need to calm down and gather his feelings and thoughts
again, Remus felt that Severus himself was craving time
to recover as well. The Gryffindor had been so absorbed by
what the sight of the ritual\'s symbols had provoked in him
that he had not consciously noticed the severe degree of
torment the spy had been under, but now that he sensed the
fierce aftershocks running through Severus\'s body, an
answering idea was taking shape in the werewolf\'s head.
Feeling how his own shock was gradually beginning to ebb
away again, Remus let his breath go, slowly and very
deliberately. Even though he would never be able to fathom
exactly what Severus had been going through, the werewolf
knew they had both been swept away by what had just
happened, and before they could find out how to proceed
from here, each of them first needed to get back on his
feet again.

Remus was not surprised at all when he realized a little
later that he was the first to do so. A careful, almost
tender reaching out with his sharp, keen perception told him
that the Slytherin was not ready yet, and so the werewolf
waited a few minutes more before he finally spoke. He knew
there was not a thing he could do about the ritual. But
there still was more evidence of the horrible morning the
Slytherin must have had, and those were things Remus
definitely could deal with.

\'Let me take care of those injuries, Severus.\'

The werewolf was not sure why the Slytherin had not healed
the numerous cuts, bruises and other marks of a Death Eater
treatment himself by now, but when he was confronted with
the sudden freezing of Severus\'s features, with the cold
hardness that crept into the black eyes, he realized that
there must be more to it than a simple lack of thought or
strange priorities. Totally oblivious to what he might have
done wrong now, Remus had to helplessly watch how the spy
retreated bd and an invisible wall of impenetrable ice, a
wall which he thought the two of them had left behind.
For a split second, the Gryffindor was overwhelmed by hurt
and frustration, a most familiar reaction to the Slytherin\'s
closing off. But the fierce determination not to let Severus
hide from him again was not long in coming, taking him a little
by surprise in its intensity. But there was so much at stake.
This might be the last time they would be able to talk
to each other, and there was still so much to say...

\'Please don\'t turn away from me now.\' The werewolf\'s voice
was just above a whisper. \'I could not handle it. Is it so
hard for you to believe that I simply want to help? All I
want to do is to ease the pain of a friend.\'

The Slytherin had retreated as far as the shelf at his back
was allowed. With both arms tightly wrapped around his
still half-naked chest, his ribcage moved erratically with the
quick and shallow breaths he took and his fingers clawed into
both of his upper arms while sinews and veins bulged on both
sides of his neck. Remus pushed the hurt this sight awoke
in him aside, knowing that he could not let the Slytherin go
now. Not now. Not this time. But when he became aware of his
barely audible voice as he spoke again, he was afraid Severus
would not be able to hear him at all.

\'Why can\'t you just try and let me?\'

The werewolf felt his own lower lip begin to tremble as he
watched how the spy\'s eyes slowly closed, how the tension
of his body started to gradually ease off. Both of Severus\'s
arms that had been clasping his torso as if the injuries
there were something worth protecting slid down to his sides,
with the Slytherin\'s hands still shaking against his thighs.
And then, finally, the spy lifted his head, now facing Remus
with a clear, calm glance, and answered the Gryffindor\'s
last question with a very weak and just as short nod.

Not noticing how tears of relief were gathering in his eyes,
Remus drew his wand from his robes.


---------------------------------------------------------------


It had taken him almost an hour. Very precious time, minutes
he was losing because he was forced to spend them
muttering spells and monitoring their effect instead of being
able to talk to the Slytherin, but still the werewolf knew that
each second that had passed before the last of the cuts spread
across Severus\'s body had finally closed under his wand had
definitely been worth The There were still more than two hours
before it would be five, and even though Remus was quite
positive that the spy had rather not spend all of this time with
him but also take some of it to prepare for the mission ahead, he
sincerely hoped Severus would give him at least one hour.
That would be all he needed.

Watching contentedly how the last slash in Severus\'s face had
now disappeared, Remus gave the man at the other end of the
room one last look-over before his totally sober voice
re-opened the conversation - or rather continued his
monologue. The fact that Severus had still not spoken a
single word since the Gryffindor had entered his rooms
had of course registered, and it was not a very encouraging
situation given that Remus had come here to talk to his friend.

\'They did a painstaking job on you. As always.\'

The sound of the Slytherin\'s response to his remark startled
the Gryffindor. He had not expected Severus to react to that
of all comments.

\'It wasn\'t them. He was gracious enough to do me the
favour of taking care of me himself.\'

Remus felt how his initial surprise at Severus having suddenly
decided to speak mingled with true amazement as he continued
looking at the other man.

\'Is there a particular reason why...\'

Severus not not let him finish his question.

\'As Albus said, this...treatment was intended to back up the story
he gave me to bring here with me, not to punish me. He knew
should he let another Death Eater do the job, I...would have
passed out and probably been put out of action for much too
long by the mere closeness of my tormentor.\' Severus pulled
the dressing gown back over his shoulders and made sure it
would not open again by pulling the belt much tighter around
his waist than necessary. \'He could not risk losing me for that
long. I had to be ready to leave in time to fulfill his plans.\'

The spy slowly shook his head.

‚Isn’t it most ironic that one day I\'d be grateful to have
been tortured by the Dark Lord rather than anyone else?\'

For the second time today, Remus struggled with a completely
vacant mind that refused to let him come up with anything
appropriate to say. A few seconds of silence fell between
them with only the crackling sounds of the fire whispering
through the room, until Remus felt the Slytherin\'s stare
burn into his forehead, daring him to lift his own glance that
had drifted away from the spy a little. The bitter seriousness
he could read in the dark depths of Severus\'s eyes did not
augur well, and some sad voice in the back of his head told
Remus what was about to come.

And was proven to be right.

\'And how does it feel to call one of the Dark Lord\'s killers
your friend?\'

Remus *had* intended to talk about that particular point.
Still, this was not the way he would have chosen to begin.
Looking into the Slytherin\'s face the werewolf could see
how a great deal of the extreme tension that Moody\'s reproaches
had provoked had already re-awakened; he was almost able
to taste Severus\'s effort not to vent those feelings on him,
Remus, of all people now. The spy had not managed to keep
a certainree ree of biting sarcasm out of his voice, though,
and the increasing tremor in his hands gave evidence about
the strain with which Severus was awaiting his answer.

\'What Alastor did and said up in Albus\'s office was totally
uncalled for - and I\'m very sure that I\'m not the only one
who feels that way, Severus. I don\'t care about his opinion
on this particular issue, and I will continue calling you my
friend, no matter what Mad-Eye thinks or has to say about
you.\'

Had Remus hoped this honest and heartfelt reply would make
the Slytherin relax at least a little, he had been horribly
wrong. The werewolf had not thought this possible, but the
tension radiating from the other man had increased even more,
and when he spoke, his voice was crisp with coldness.

\'And what if he was right?’

A hot snare, burning with acid, jerkily tightened around
the werewolf\'s heart. The last of Severus\'s words echoed
through his head, reflected back and forth from the
inner walls of his skull, laughed its challenge right into
the Gryffindor\'s face. Remus could see the Slytherin\'s
reaction to the consternation that must be written all over
his features, felt the growing hardness in the other\'s eyes
drill into his own gaze like razor-like daggers. Still the
werewolf held Severus\'s glance, wanted to keep up a
connection between the two them to demonstrate that
even the dark hint in the Slytherin\'s question would *not*
make him reject the spy. Remus would never condemn the
other man as a simple murderous Death Eater, not after all
he had learned about Severus during the past months, all
the horrible details of his existence as well as those most
precious and breathtakingly beautiful facets of the
Slytherin\'s being. Still, the mere possibility of Severus
being responsible for only one of last night\'s casualties
was one of the most frightening ideas Remus could think of,
and it was one he needed to get clear about as soon as
possible. Fighting for the most composed voice he could
master, the Gryffindor asked the question he knew he needed
an answer to, no matter how much it might hurt.

\'Was he right then, Severus?\'

The Slytherin\'s reply to that came at once.

\'What do you think?\'

The bright irritability that flared up in Remus on that
counter question didn\'t last long enough to make him miss
the serious background to the spy\'s query. This was not a
simple question-and-answer-game to provoke his counterpart.
Severus\'s intention had been a most serious one. One
that dared the Gryffindor to find out whether he was ready
to deal with the probably terrible consequences Severus\'s
being a spy meant, as well as to analyse his own assessment
of the man he had become so very close to. Looking
into the Slytherin\'s deadly serious face Remus realised that
the spy expected an honest answer, and he felt deep inside
himself that he deserved one, too. And so the werewolf closed
his eyes and leaned back against the door at his back,
concentrating on his own emotions, on the instinct of the
animal to find out and to give Severus what he was waiting
for.

It took the Gryffindor several minutes before he was sure
and ready to search for the spy\'s glance again. Apparently
Severus hadn\'t even moved but silently accepted time ime
Remus had needed to come up with his answer. The black
eyes seemed to be glued to the Gryffindor\'s face, and while
he heard his own words ringing out into the room, the wolf
inside Remus was overwhelmed with the barely controlled
emotions that were seething behind the motionless mask of
composure that was Severus\'s face.

\'I think it is possible that in the course of events last
night, you might have been forced to do things you would
not do under normal circumstances. I think these things
might even extend to the worst one could possibly do. I
think that no member of the Order, including myself, has
the slightest idea what kind of situation you have to face
doing the job you do and what kind of actions it takes to id rid raising Voldemort\'s suspicion.\' Remus stopped for a
moment, tried to replace the impossibility of approaching the
Slytherin with an attempt to intensify the already deep
glance they shared. \'What I *know* is that I will
definitely not judge you by your actions only, whatever
they might look like. If you want to tell me about it, I
will listen without any prejudice, and I will try to
understand the reasons for whatever you did last
night.\'

Severus\'s glance penetrated the silence that followed
the Gryffindor\'s little speech, and the slight change in
the spy\'s aura did not escape Remus attention. A tiny
spark of hope had dawned in the Slytherin\'s eyes, and the
barrier of coldness around him had begun to splinter.

\'You said you\'d listen without bias.\' Remus gave a little
nod after the spy had finished his sentence, now trying
hard himself not to trust his own suddenly awakening hope
too much, waiting for Severus to go on. \'Why do you think
you\'ll be able to?\'

Remus couldn\'t help the smile lifting the corners of his
mouth. With a silent prayer to Godric Gryffindor to grant
him that nothing but the strong affection that suddenly
had washed over him was now showing on his face, that
Severus might not misinterpret anything like arrogance or
patronizing judgment to be on his features, the werewolf had begun
voicing his answer without even having to think about it once.

\'For exactly the same reason you have chosen me to speak
to about that particular issue. For all the time that we\'ve spent
sharing whatever it is connecting us. For all that has grown
between us during the past months.\'

For one last second Remus felt the spy cling to his
protection of cold refusal before the wall of ice he had
errected around him finally broke down.

And then the Slytherin began to talk.


-----------------------------------------------------------


Severus would never know where all the words were coming
from that seemed to literally fall from his mouth. He
heard himself speaking of how he had been assigned to a
group of seven Death Eaters right after he had
arrived at the house the Dark Mark had called him to the
morning before, of the feverish preparation for their
mission that was to begin at midnight sharp, of how he
himself had become a perfectly working part of the Dark
Lord\'s machinery. Without truly realising it, the spy was
already describing the images of their route to the Aurors’
training camp that were rushing past his inner eye, telling
Remus about taking up his position as a kind of rear guard
to back the others up. Which was when the true horror had
begun.

\'There were four of them. Apparently, the information about
where the trainees were distributed among the camp\'s
buildings was not correct - or maybe they were not in their
quarters by sheerest accident that night. Be that as it may,
they appeared more or less out of nowhere, and they detected
me much sooner than I saw them, which might have been due
to the fact that they had been warned by the sounds of yelled
curses and spells. They were searching for Death Eaters, whereas
I had not expected to come across anyone. A horrible mistake.
Had I noticed them sooner, I would have had the necessary time
not to fall back on reflexes. Had I not been so careless as
to let them surprise me, I could have eliminated them by
simple stunning spells. But that is not how things went. I
made a mistake. I was feeling safe, far away from where the
fighting took place as I was. I did not pay enough attention.
I did not take things seriously enough. And one of the Auror
trainees had to pay with her life for that.\'

For the first time since their conversation had begun, the
spy let his glance leave Remus\'s face and wander over to the
fire. Staring into the flames, the Slytherin went on, in
barely more than a whisper.

\'She must have been extremely nervous; it was probably her
first true fight, the first time she was facing a Death
Eater for real, or the only curse she had time to cast would
not have missed me. I...I had only noticed them, about 20
yards away from me, when the flash of energy from her wand
blasted the low branch of a tree right beside my head. And
after that, it was only basic, raw reaction, nothing more. It
was...I didn\'t think, I only acted on instinct, did what...
what the training of a Death Eater told me to do. I had
cast the Killing Spell in her direction before I even noticed I
had reached for my wand.\' Severus felt his throat contracting
with the first, most unfamiliar heralds of a sob. Speaking had
become very difficult, as had keeping in controlof his voice,
which was not more than a breath by now. \'It hit her right
shoulder, just beneath the collarbone...\'

Severus was not aware of his left hand, which had come
shakily up to the spot on his own chest where he had seen his
curse drive into the young woman\'s body. He knew, though,
that the moment when her face had been lit by green light,
when the slight surprise in her eyes had been replaced by sudden
understanding before life left them forever, that what he saw
would never leave his consciousness again. That sight would
be a horrible companion for the rest of his life. Just at the
screams of the first person he had ever killed had become.

With his eyes still fixed on the bright flames in the
fireplace, with his lips trembling almost as badly as his
hands did, the spy forced himself to finish the story of one
of the darkest nights he had ever experienced.

\'It was only when I saw her body fall to the floor that the
ability to think seemed to come back to me. Some part of me
must have realised what I had done and somehow prevented
me from doing it again. I kind of...woke up to what had
happened, and now, much too late, I was suddenly able to
consciously decide again about my actions. It was necessary
to take a life before I was capable of enough rationality
to stun the other three instead of killing them.\'

The seconds of stillness seemed to stretch until the silence
had reached an unbearable quality. With all the resolution
he could possibly gather in the pathetic condition he was
in, the Slytherin brought himself to lift his gaze from the flames
which continued licking the wood with comfortable indifference
and let his eyes fall on the form of the werewolf again, ready to
add one more sentence that would finally make things clear
once and for all.

\'So yes, Remus. No matter how uncalled for you think Moody’s
behaviour was - he was indeed right.\'

Severus desperately wanted the werewolf to do *anything*.
Anything but stand there, silently watching him with burning
eyes, one tightly clasped fist pressed against his lips. No matter
how much he craved a reaction from the Gryffindor, no matter
what that reaction might be, something inside the spy told him
that he had no right to expect an answer. There were things you
did that deprived you of any right, any right at all, and killing
though there had been other options most certainly was such a
thing - and especially to a Gryffindor. Severus knew the attitude
that got you into that particular House almost as well as he knew
what it took to become a Slytherin, and there was no way Remus
would be able to meet him with anything other than contempt
now that he knew. No degree of impartiality could change
that.

And still the werewolf didn\'t say a thing. Neither Remus\'s glance
nor his body language gave the slightest fraction of the Gryffindor\'s
thoughts and emotions away. He held the the Slytherin\'s gaze
unwaveringly, and once more they spent several minutes of the
precious time they still had together in complete silence.

Until the werewolf\'s slowly descending hand, revealing
slightly parted lips, and the shaky sound of the other\'s voice
made Severus\'s heart jump.

\'I know what it feels like.‘

The Slytherin did not know what exactly he had expected
the werewolf to say, but it surely had not been that. There
was no time to ponder on that for too long, though, because
Remus had already started speaking again.

‚I used to go through that once a month, so believe me, Severus,
I know. I know so well.\' With every syllable he spoke, Remus\'s
words grew clearer, rang out more strongly. \'Before the Wolfsbane
Potion, there was nothing but instinct during a full moon\'s night. No
control. No rationality. Had I not been extremely lucky, I, too, would
have had to struggle with the responsibility of having killed several
persons by now. I most likely would have killed you in the Shrieking
Shack. I would have killed Harry, Hermione and you that summer
night two years ago. I was just incredibly fortunate that both times
someone saw to it that the wolf inside me did not have his way.
Severus, I know it cannot put anything right again, it may not can
even comfort you, but as horrible as your deed was, it was not your
fault.\'

The Syltherin\'s mercilessly analytical mind made him completely miss
the actual message of what the werewolf had just said. Unable to
ignore his brain, which was complaining loudly and clearly that Remus\'s
statement lacked logic, the spy simply shook his head.

\'I\'m no werewolf. I\'m not subject to an unbreakable curse as you are...\'
With a bitter snort, the spy became aware of the irony that lay in what
he had just said. \'Well, at least I\'m not doomed to lose my mental being
along with my physical one. I don\'t think you can compare the forces
you face during a full moon with my unforgivable mistake and lack
of mental soundness last night...\'

Severus was interrupted by the Gryffindor\'s voice, which was
accompanied by a wild shaking of the werewolf\'s head.

\'I can, Severus! I am slave to the animal\'s instinct once a month, you
are to your intensive training as a Death Eater - and all the time! The
wolf listens to its nature during a full moon, your subconscious listens
to the conditioning it received long ago. It doesn\'t matter whether
our instincts are inherent or whether they\'ve been trained. We simply
act on them when we\'re exposed to the appropriate triggers.\'

Feeling the the Gryffindor tried to put even more urgency into his glance,
hearing how that attempt was mirrored by a growing intensity in the
werewolf\'s words, Severus still struggled against the shyly growing
awareness inside him that Remus might be right. Yet, the overwhelming
sense of guilt that had seized him, that had taken root ever since the
young witch\'ad bad body fell, shaking him from his strange
mindlessness, was not ready to let go of him. Still made him refuse any
possiblity other than blaming only himself for what had happened.

\'Even if that were so, which I seriously doubt, it should never have
come that far in the first place. Had I not resorted to such arrogant
ignorance, had I done my job as I should have, had I paid more
attention all this would not have happened at all. By all the banshee\'s
screams, RemI\'mI\'m a spy! When I\'m out there with the Dark Lord\'s
lot, I should definitely be aware of my actions affecting our side as
least as much as they affect his! Being careless as I have been, I let
down all those who might cross our way. As I demonstrated most
impressively last night.\'

The bitter taste of failure, guilt and self-contempt was
welling up inside the spy again, washing away the small
spark of light Remus\'s words had been able to momentarily
kindle in the Slytherin who had been thoroughly flooded with
darkness by the latest events. His fury at himself in the face of the
disaster his behaviour had caused began to boil once more, making
Severus clench his trembling hands into tight fists with fingernails
digging deeply into his palms, and fueling the wild rush of
blood that pounded in his ears and pulsated behind
his now closed eyelids...

\'Severus.\'

Remus\'s soft tone was caressing its way through the violent
onslaught of emotions that were raging inside the Slytherin,
ignoring the rejection it met, surmounting resistance that
tried to block it in its gentleness. With infallible purposefulness
it finally reached the part of Severus\'s mind that would not be
able to resist and persuaded the spy to open his eyes again,
to meet the Gryffindor\'s glance at last.

\'None of us will ever be flawless. We all fail, and regarding what
you have gone through these past months we all should think
very highly of you that you got as far as you did without
breaking under the pressure you had and still have to endure.
You *had* to slip one day, Severus, as we all do. The difference
in your case is that due to the nature of your being a spy the
effects of your failing are much more far-reaching. But there\'s
something else that should make you judge yourself less
harshly than you do.\'

The Slytherin gave way to the dry laugh that had been pressing
against his tightly closed lips.

\'I truly wonder what that might be!\'

The profound sadness that crept into the Gryffindor’s eyes tore
at the spy‘s heart, and for some seconds Severus was afraid
that the corrosiveness of his tone might keep the werewolf
from going on, but Remus was already going on.

\'It is war, Severus. We all are most active agents of it, and thus
everything we do is a decision about which we can\'t possibly know the the consequences. There are lives at stake, every single second,
and since we all fail, we risk endangering lives with every choice we
make. The same absolutely innocent mistakes we make in peacetime
can cause a horrible disaster if we make them in times of war.\'

His brain perceived every single word. The spy surely understood
their meaning by now, realised what it was the werewolf wanted to
tell him. It made sense on an abstract, impersonal level, too, and
had Severus been capable of rationally facing what had happened
last night, he would probably have agreed with the Gryffindor on
most of what Remus had pointed out. But he had been there. He
had spoken the accursed words. It had been his wand that had sent
the lethal flash. The young witch had fallen lifelessly to the ground
before his eyes, and it had been him who had felt once more
what killing meant. Who was still feeling it. And nothing
the werewolf told him about drastic circumstances causing
drastic effects would ever be able to change that. No matter
how Remus tried to look at it, he, Severus Snape, had taken
the life of an innocent human being, and he had done so
because of an inexcusable carelessness. That was the terrible
truth, and he knew it.

And it was time to let the Gryffindor know as well.

\'Stop troubling yourself with looking for excuses for
something unforgivable. There\'s no point in...\'

The calm firmness of Remus\'s voice that cut into the spy\'s
sentence strangely resembled Albus\'s tones, reminding the
Slytherin of the innumerable occasions when the Headmaster had
silenced him with nothing but the characteristic sound of his
gentle words which nonetheless made it clear that contradiction
was not an option.

\'I\'m not searching for excuses, Severus, nor do I think
that it\'s up to me to grant you forgiveness. I know I will
not be able to ease your sense of guilt in any way, and I\'m
also aware that there are no excuses for violently ending a
life. But there are explanations, explanations that reveal the
difference between a Death Eater - or an Auror, for that
matter - deliberately killing an opponent on the one hand
and your ending up doing so because of a confluence of
most tragic circumstances on the other. I know that to you,
this will not change a thing concerning what you did. To me,
and to a lot of other people, it changes everything.\'

The sudden, irresistible understanding that was finally aroused
by the Gryffindor\'s firm words took the spy completely by surprise.
He was not prepared for the breath-taking emotional response that
surged up inside of him upon his comprehension, not only because
reactions like that were not usually part of his design. The absolutely
unbelievable reason for the bright wave of warmth he felt craving to
flood his body made his mind accuse his ears of having lied to him, so
that he hesitated to believe in the glorious awareness singing through
his entire being.

But when Severus dared to search the Gryffindor\'s eyes for
affirmation, when he finally, truly saw the same reason
shimmering in thier depths, somehow knowing it had been there
all the time, he felt how Remus had managed to break down
another barrier, laying open another part of his, Severus\'s,
withdrawn soul. As he had done so many times before.

\'You do not detest me.\'

It was not a question, but a still slightly unbelieving
observation, and the Slytherin listened to his own words
lingering between the two of them, concentrated on how
voicing them had tasted, marvelled at their perfect sound
and the incredible bliss with which their meaning was soothing his
mind.

Not enough to make him miss the werewolf shaking his head,
though.

\'No.\' The low sound of Remus\'s whisper wrapped itself around
Severus as the other\'s arms were unable to. \'No. How
could I ever?\'


-------------------------------------------------------------


The clock was relentlessly ticking their time away.


Sitting quite comfortably on the floor now, the door to the
spy’s quarters at his back, Remus could hear how the
seconds and minutes of the last hour they still had together
were dissolving into nothing. It was a few minutes past four,
and the werewolf, knowing that the spy had to leave very
soon now, felt the first hints of a profound sadness rise
inside. After Severus\'s confession about what had happened
during the Death Eater attack he had been part of, when they
had finally finished struggling through their discussion
afterwards, the Slytherin had directed their talk to other issues,
and Remus who knew what it must have taken Severus to
address last night\'s events and go through all the emotional
strain that came after had not had the heart to stop the spy in
his attempt to stay away from even more awkward topics.
Consequently avoiding more private matters, Severus had
started a discussion about the defense of the Shrieking Shack
that Albus had organised, they had also talked about options to
protect the students during the upcoming attack, and then they
drifted off into pros and cons concerning the probable
evacuation of the castle.

But for a few moments now, silence had fallen between them once
more, and Remus had been fighting a battle of his own for just that
long. He could tell by what he received from the Slytherin who
had got lost in staring into the flames of the fire once more
that the other man had calmed down from the emotional turmoil
that still had been raging inside him half an hour ago. Torn between
not wanting to disturb the peace Severus had reached on the one hand
and theparaparation he felt at the thought of not being able to tell the
spy what he longed to before they would part on the other, Remus
hesitated to begin speaking again. But with every moment he waited,
he knew the chance of Severus asking him to leave so he could
prepare to return to Voldemort increased, so in the end he gave in
to the urgency with which some thoughts and feelings were begging
to be voiced.

\'There\'s a question I have to ask, Severus.\'

The dark head lifted, and dark eyes turned towards him. The spy
didn\'t say anything, but in his glance Remus read the silent agreement
he had needed to go on.

\'Do you have any idea where you\'re going to be ordered
tonight?\'

The Slytherin shook his head. Still not saying a word.

\'So it\'s possible you\'ll be participating in an attack on Hogwarts?\'

A short nod this time, while the werewolf tried to ignore the
dragging pain that passed through his insides. It had been a rather
rhetorical question, and he knew it. They were both aware that
Voldemort would most likely obtain a more than perverted joy from
making Severus fight against those he had been working with for
years as well as from exposing him to the risk of at least hurting some
of his fomer students. It was more than probable that the Slytherin
would be assigned to join a raid on the school right from the beginning,
but the spy\'s curt affirmation of that fear deepened Remus\'s dread of
that possibility. Not able to keep his body from reacting to the
anxiety running through him, the werewolf leaned slightly
forward, fixing the man by the fire with an unblinking stare. An
extremely weird, twisted feeling seized him as he forced words
through his completely dry mouth.

\'Is there any way we will be able to tell you from any other
Death Eater?\'

Remus would have given anything to be able to close his eyes
to the bitter smile that had begun playing around the Slytherin\'s
lips, but that would have meant cutting his only way of maintaining
a connection to the spy. So the Gryffindor forced himself to deal with the
cruel grin on Severus\'s face, which was mirrored in the other\'s voice as well.

\'There isn\'t.\'

It took the Gryffindor a little while to fight down the fury Severus‘s
deliberate ignorance of his, Remus\'s, genuine fear that the spy was so
openly displaying gave rise to. Only his knowledge of the unbearable
situation the Slytherin was in helped the werewolf to do so, as well as
his own experience, which kept reminding him that sometimes sarcasm
was the only way to deal with facts that would make most people break.
When he spoke again, though, it was with a calmness he still didn\'t feel
at all.

\'I felt certain that we had reached a level where it was not
necessary to laugh in the face of each other\'s concern
anymore.\'

Every trace of irony was wiped from the Slytherin\'s face
immediately and replaced by an earnestness that Remus
had already seen on the other\'s face this afternoon. Confronted
with an almost thoughtful glance from the spy, still fighting down
the remnants of his irritablity due to Severus\'s reaction, the
werewolf waited for the Slytherin\'s reply.

\'I had not intended to violate your feelings, Remus. Rather it was your
question that gave me the impression that you had not yet completely
comprehended what this is all about. Did you truly expect that it would
somehow be possible to make myself discernible as a fake Death
Eater? What kind of spy would I be if there was any way to *tell* that I
was one?\'

Remus felt a hot flush rush up his face. Afterwards, he
understood how stupid and thoughtless his question must have ndednded to the ears of someone who had lived under several
disguises for decades now. But no matter how naive he might
have appeared to be, there had been a reason for his query,
and he knew he would not be able to simply drop the point
just like that. Not now that they were finally getting where he
had wanted to go ever since he had first set foot into Severus\'s
quarters this afternoon.

\'Can you imagine what I feel like knowing that in a few hours,
ers ers of the Order will probably meet you somewhere out
there, completely unaware that it is you they\'re facing? Do you
have the slightest idea what the mere thought of I myself fighting a
Death Eater and finding out later this Death Eater was you does to
me? Do you want to know? It\'s driving me out of my mind, Severus!\'

The calm, completely sober way the Slytherin was watching him
was almost frightening. Remus could see in those eyes, could
tell from the spy\'s body language that Severus was taking him
totally serious now, that the other man had thought this
dilemma through for himself long ago and had come to terms
with it as well. And the finality that was in the Slytherin’s voice
when he spoke again tore the werewolf\'s heart apart.

\'Scruples like that won\'t help, and you know it. This risk is
part of what I do, and both sides have agreed on taking it long
ago. You definitely must not let yourself get distracted by
thoughts like that! If we don\'t want to go down in this war, each
and every one of us needs to be completely focused. If we want
to defeat the Dark Lord, we can\'t afford one single person who\'s
not with the cause wholeheartedly. Not to mention that you put
yourself in danger as well if you think twice before fighting
*each* Death Eater you come across. Consequently...\'

Under normal circumstances, Remus would have reacted with
nothing but fury to that cold demand of simply being able to
switch his emotions off lest he become a burden to the Order,
would have countered the Slytherin’s short speech with some acid
comment of his own, concerning the values and principles he
believed inand the fact that knowingly risking the sacrifice of lives
was definitely not among them, even though he knew, of course, that
in theory, Severus was right. But they were not facing normal
circumstances, and the werewolf had already found out that his
reactions to the Slytherin were not predictable anyway, not even to
himself. So he simply accepted the amazingly warm calm which that
gripped him, the fact that suddenly, everything seemed to be
so very easy, that all his theoretical knowledge would not change
a thing that he felt. It never would. Not in this particular case.
Because this was not about abstract beliefs. This was about his
very own, most concrete emotions.

\'I\'m afraid I will have to live with being a potential danger to our
cause as well as to myself then. Because by no means will I be
able to simply tolerate the possibility that I might be hurting you at
anytime - or doing even worse.\'

There was a great deal of urgency in the Slytherin\'s eyes now, and
his words dripped with vividness.

\'Remus, you\'re depriving Albus of one of the most skilled
Defenders against the Dark Arts in the entire Order. Remember how
valuable you are, that you\'re responsible for Potter getting through
all that\'s ahead of us alive, for his being able to fulfill the prophecy in
the end. I really feel...honored by your concern for me, but I think that
right now, there should be other priorities.\'

The werewolf felt as if he was glowing from the inside with
the certainty that this was the moment he had been waiting
for. And he should be cursed if he failed to seize it with both
hands!

\'I\'m very aware of my priorities, Severus. To me, there\'s
nothing and no one more important than you are, and I will not
knowingly take thsk osk of your dying at my own hands. So I
guess you’d better come up with a solution to this problem, or
else I\'m afraid I will not be able to reconcile my feelings for you
with my duties to the Order.\'

After the first short moment of the spy\'s genuine shock had
ebbed away, Remus could sense how emotions were literally
overwhelming the other man. In a wild cascade of feelings,
Severus\'s aura pulsed fiercely and changed every single
second. The werewolf almost felt ashamed to witness those
most private sensations, even more so since he knew that
Severus was not one to willingly share his emotions. They
*had* come extremely close to each other, especially during
the past weeks, still the Gryffindor had not known that it was
possible to shake the spy the way his confessing his feelings
for him just had. Severus had closed his eyes, rather was
pressing them shut right now, and his ever so slightly parted
lips were trembling violently, a tremor that gradually spread
to take hold of the spy\'s entire lower jaw. Remus could see
how the muscles of the other man\'s throat were tensing and
relaxing frequently in several desperate attempts to swallow,
and all the time the variety of feelings welling up inside the
Slytherin took the werewolf\'s breath away in their intensity.
The sudden feeling of intruding upon one of the other\'s most
intimate moments made Remus mentally retreat, struggling to
keep his wolfish perceptions to himself, which turned out to be
more difficult than he had ever experienced. His own emotions
were anything but calm after having just revealed what he truly
felt for the Slytherin, and with all of his instinct the animal part
of him longed to know about Severus\'s reaction, wanted to
find out whether his feelings were returned, wanted to
desperately turn again to the flood of emotions it received from
the spy...

\'Are you familiar with Krabat\'s tale?\'

Severus\'s voice, a little tremulous, but ringing out loudly and
clearly, pulled Remus\'s out of his struggle with himself.
Refocusing on the man at the other end of the room, not sure
where Severus wanted to go with his comment, the werewolf
slowly shook his head.

\'No. No, I\'m afraid I\'ve never heard of it.\'

He silenced the wildly protesting animal inside, forcing it to
be patient for once. It was not difficult to tell that Severus
had started this with a reason behind his question, and Remus
decided that he would simply trust the Slytherin not to let him
down now of all moments. Severus *would* give him a reaction
to his confession, or all he had just received from the Slytherin
had not been more than one big, painful lie.

Severus had cast his eyes to the floor, but Remus could still
see how the muscles of the other man\'s lower jaw were
furiously working. When the Slytherin finally began
to speak again, his whispered words were barely audible.

\'It\'s a very old folktale, from a time when magic was still
widespread and Death was still walking the earth in a human
form. There is one aspect of this story I would like to tell
you about. I will have to leave out a lot of it, but what
you need to know is that Krabat, a young boy of fourteen years,
is one day accepted as the thirteenth apprentice in an old
mill. He has to spend three years there, and he finds out very
soon that the miller is a master of the Dark Arts and in league
with Death himself, and that all the young men working in the mill
are the miller’s students.\'

Unable to say why, Remus felt gripped by the story from the
very first word. He leaned forward a little, putting his arms on
his knees, rested his chin on the backs of his hands and
waited for the Slytherin to go on. When he heard the first of
the Slytherin’s next words, the Gryffindor felt his eyes drifting
shut, and all his concentration narrowed onto the story that he
was being told.

\'As it turns out, Krabat\'s master once made a terrible
agreement with Death: Each New Year’s Day, he has to sacrifice
one of his apprentices, or else Death will take the miller himself
instead. Krabat\'s best friend has to die that way, and when
the boy finds out about the true reason for it, he wano
o
leave the mill forever - only to realise that this is impossible.
Once a boy has agreed to work for the dark master, he will
not be able to leave the mill again, unless he dies, is set free
by the miller - or is redeemed by his beloved.\'

At the last word, Severus had lifted his head again and Remus
felt how the Slytherin\'s eyes were searching for his own. The
intensity of their meeting gazes made the Gryffindor\'s heart
skip a beat, and when the spy continued to tell Krabat\'s Tale,
his glance never left that of the werewolf again.

\'Krabat learns that the one he loves will be able to set him
free from his master forever, but there is a task to be
fullfilled first. If his beloved can name him as the one he
or she loves and so tell him from the other twelve apprentices,
Krabat will be free. If his loved one fails, both of them will have
to die. When Krabat actually falls in love with a girl from the
village near the mill in the third year of his apprenticeship, the
two of them decide they will take the risk, and to be sure that
she will be able to recognise him, despite all the dark arts the
miller will try to confuse her with, she gives Krabat a ring of her
hair by which they think she will always be able to tell him from
the other twelve apprentices.

\'But when the day comes and the girl confronts the miller with
the demand to let Krabat go, for once the dark master does
not use transfiguration to disguise the apprentices and thus make
impossible for her to recignise the one she loves. Instead, he
orders all the young men to stand in a row, blindfolds the girl and
tells her to tell Krabat from the thirteen persons in front of her.

\'The girl walks the row three times before she finally stops
in front of one of the apprentices. Without the slightest
hesitation, she lifts her finger and successfully names Krabat as
the one she loves, thus freeing him from the power of the
miller forever.\'

His eyes glued to the those of the Slytherin and his mouth
completely dry, Remus only noticed that he had held his breath
when he had to give in to the sudden urge to inhale. Licking
his lips in a totally unconscious gesture, the werewolf was still
totally absorbed by the story, knowing that the tale had not yet
come to an end.

\'When the two of them have left the mill, free to go anywhere
they want to, Krabat asks the girl for the first time how she
was able to recognise him with blindfolded eyes, unable to
see the ring of hair on his finger. And she answers that due to
his strong, true love for her, the fear for her life when he
had been standing there in the row, sure that she would not be
able to name him and thus would have to die, had been so
powerful that it reached out for her, touched her, so she
could feel it and thus knew immediately which of the thirteen
men was Krabat.‘

Remus could see and sense the tears in Severus\'s eyes, though
not one of them ever made it down the Slytherin\'s cheeks.
Swallowing hard one more time, the spy visually reached over
to the werewolf and desperately tried to communicate something
one simple touch would have told immediately. But Remus, by now
close to tears himself, understood, his shaky smile colored with so
many things letting the other man know, and he was rewarded with
the one last sentence that he had been waiting for.

\'So you would be able to recognise me r anr any mask, Remus.
Each passing battle of this war increases my fear for your life,
and since I know you will feel it, I also have not the slightest doubt
that you will know me at once should we ever meet on a battlefield.\'

The very rare, very small but all the more honest smile he saw
shyly grow on the Slytherin\'s face was all it took to make Remus\'s
tears finally flow. Speaking had become absolutely impossible
with his throat so tight with all the feelings he wanted to voice,
with his mind paralysed by this emotional onslaught, so all the
werewolf was able to do was givveruverus a reassuring, affirming
nod, continuing to smile himself as well as extensively cursing
Voldemort and the ritual that kept him and Severus from sealing
their verbal confessions with suitable actions, and had there not been...

\'Remus.\'

It was not only the deadly serious, slightly alarmed tone in the
spy\'s voice that immediately shook the werewolf back to reality.
As soon as Severus had spoken the first syllable of his name,
Remus had known that something was wrong. The infallible
instinct of the animal.

\'I have to go.\'

One quick glance at the clock on the wall was all Remus needed.
With iron determination that would have done a Syltherin cr,
,
he pushed away everything that he felt. Everything, except for
his awareness that Severus had to arrive in time at St. Mungo\'s.
For his own sake, for the Order\'s sake, for the sake of the cause.
There was no room for sentimentality right now; he knew that
later, he would have a lot of time to grieve for the time they had
not had, for all they had not been able to tell each other, time to
be at odds with fate which had treated them so very unfairly.
Later. When he was alone again. After Severus left. Probably
never to return this time...

Fiercly forcing himself to stop thinking any further than
this point, Remus pushed himself up from the floor. The
sadness he saw in the Slytherin\'s eyes battled with the
readiness to do his duty that was there as well, and the
werewolf knew that his presence only made it unnecessarily
harder for the spy. With one last effort, not sure whether
he would be able to summon that amount of will-power again,
Remus quickly turned, now facing the door. He had already
reached for the handle, already felt the cool metal beneath
his fingers, when something made him turn around one more
time.

Severus hadn\'t moved, was still standing by the book shelf,
but his eyes had returned to the fire, and Remus could detect
the first hints of hardness on his face again, could see how
the Death Eater had once more begun to take hold of the man he
loved. The Gryffindor did not know whether he would still
be able to get through the first layers of self-protection
Severus was re-erecting around himself, but he had to try.

\'Please take care of yourself.\'

The dark eyes flickered back to him. A little nod announced
that his request had registered. And the spy\'s voice, so much
harder than when it had just told Krabat\'s Tale, answered
him.

\'As far as he lets me.\'

And then, after only a split second: \'Thank you.\'

When he pressed down the door handle this time, the werewolf
did not turn again, but instead literally fled from the dungeons.
Afraid that he would not be able to let the Slytherin go should he
stay one second longer.

*******************************************************
\'Krabat\'s Tale\' is borrowed from the most fantastic and amazing
book \'The Satanic Mill\' by Ottfried Preußler.
*******************************************************


[Author\'s note:
Past time! Waaaaaaaay past time!!! But well, finally, here\'s the next
chapter, and I truly hope working for my thesis will *not* interfere with
chapter 21 like it did with number 20...

@ @_@: So glad that you\'re still here! Here\'s hope that the waiting has
been worth it this time as well...and thanks so much for that rec on your
lj - it\'s the first time this happens to me, so I *do* feel honored!!!!

@ Sasha: >Eventually somebody is going to have to bump into him by
accident.
*LOL* You do have a point here...
Which is one reason why I have to bring this story to an end soon ;o).
I\'m afraid though that Remus is the only one who will ever know about
the bond between Severus and Voldemort - except for *one* other person.
Which is not going to be Albus...
But before I get lost in spoiling you: I\'m thrilled you still like this fic, and
thanks a lot for your comments!

@ Hana: First of all, thank you so much for leaving a review! *Highly*
appreciated :o)))!
I\'m glad that you\'re suffering with Severus the way you do (because I feel
exactly the same!), but as we all know, life doesn\'t ask what we hope or wish
for, it only gets shaped by our actions and the according consequences - and
we will see where Severus will be taken by *his* deeds and
choices in the end.
As for Alastor...I already have real difficulties to let Severus suffer the way he
has to, so I\'m afraid I\'m not going to be able to do something like that to
anyone else again...


Thanks to all of you for being still with FaJwE!!!]