On the Side of the Angels

Chapter Three: The Prank and the Slope

Severus woke up with his head spinning. Gods, he felt groggy. His tongue was also plastered to he roof of his mouth. Eugh. He needed a drink, a bath and another smoke. That would make him feel better.

It took him a few minutes to get dressed and get up without injuring himself in the process on the various things laying about the floor of his tent. When he finally managed to make his way outside the light nearly blinded him. Great, light-headed and dehydrated with the hot sun beating down on him as if he were in the middle of the Sahara. This was going to be a bad day. He could feel it.

In the line for breakfast, holding out his plate for a serving of scrambled eggs and dry toast, Remus Lupin sidled up to him, his plate ready for a refill.

“You look ill,” he said, lifting one hand to Severus’ forehead to check his temperature. Severus pulled back.

“What do you want this time, Lupin?” he ground out. It was supposed to sound scathing and snippy but it came out as a long suffering sigh.

Lupin didn’t seem deterred in the slightest, “You should get some hot tea into you,” he smiled kindly, “And my illness if hereditary but manageable. It’s nothing to worry about.” Severus gave him a hard, uninterested look.

“Why in the blue hell would I be interested in your bloody illness, Lupin?” he walked further up in the line. How did Lupin know? He flicked over this in his head and found only one answer: Sade Kelly. Bitch.

“I just … well someone told me you asked so I thought I’d tell you in case you were worried,” he gestured forward with his plate, prompting Severus to move further up the line, “It’s not threatening to anyone except for when it’s at it’s most infectious. Then I have to leave for three days or so no one catches it. But I’m okay so there’s no need to be concerned.”

“I wasn’t concerned,” he snipped whilst making a mental note to look further into Lupin’s little hereditary illness.

“Good.” Lupin motioned for him to go first in the line and some Hufflepuff called Stacey pointed her ladle towards the eggs.

“Eggs hard boiled or scrambled?” he sent her daggers.

“Scrambled.”

“Toast or fruit?” there was a long pausile ile she smiled brightly at him.

“Toast.”

“Bacon and beans?” it was seven thirty. Why in the hell was she so bloody cheery?

“Yes.”

“Do you want tea? Black? Milk? Sugar?” she ferreted a cup out of a pile.

“Black.”

Once she’d given him his breakfast she smiled brightly and he walked away before she said, ‘Have a nice day.’ Lucaugcaught his sleeve, “Hang on a sec’.” Then he filled his plate and gave Stacey the Hufflepuff a quick peck on the cheek, “Ta, hun.” Catching up with Severus he smiled again.

“Everyone where I am’s asleep. Can I have breakfast with you?” Severus took a second to absorb that.

“Do what you damn well please, Lupin!” he stormed back to his tent and, without turning around, he knew that Remus Lupin was following him like some forlorn puppy dog. Bloody hell! Was it so much to ask? One breakfast on his own?

They settled on the grass, Lupin tucking in to a second plate of piled on eggs, bacon and beans. Severus toobitebite of his toast, not having to feign the exasperated look on his face. From now on he was going to keep his big mouth shut, permanently. He would stay as far away from Lupin as physically possible. More to the point, he would get rid of him before Malfoy woke up.

“I … look. I don’t want to aggravate you. I don’t want to upset you, I just - -”

“Want to make up for what your imbeciles of friends have done to me in the past six years? Forget it. I told you, I don’t want your pity,” he hadn’t actually meant to say that but when he opened his mouth he found that his common sense had decided to take a leave of absence while his brain was constructing that sentence.

“No, that’s not it at all!” the plate was settled on the ground now, great Gods, “I’m not doing this out of some - -” he stumbled for the words so Severus obliged him.

“Misplaced sense of guilt?” The scathing remark seemed to humble Lupin a little, so much so that he seemed to shrink a few inches. Severus felt an unusual pang of guilt himself. When Lupin finally stopped twiddling with his fingers and lifted his head, the usually light honey coloured skin had turned a nice shade of magenta.

“Well, yeah. I’m n-not trying to make myself feel better,” before Severus could open his mouth Lupin held up his hands and added quickly, “And I’m not trying to get you to help with my crappy work in Potions either!” with a deep breath Severus shut up long enough to let Lupin keep going, “I just thought that you could use another friend. You seem kinda’ lonely and I’ve always tried to talk to you. You just make yourself so unreachable.”

Severus stared at him for one long moment and then got on with his breakfast. Maybe if he ignored him Lupin would take the hint. He doubted it but he could live in hope. Unreachable, indeed.

“Well done on the hunt, I heard you were first team in?” nice that you noticed, Lupin. Yes we were first in because of all of mrd wrd work.

“I may have cheated, remember?” Lupin give him his first raised eyebrow. He’d never saw Lupin do that before. The tawny colour of Lupin’s hair took away from the effect so instead of saying ‘You idiot’ like Severus’ own, it said ‘Really? Do you think so?’ It had the effect of being quite humbling. Bugger.

“Come on, Severus, we both know that you haven’t cheated in your life. At least not when your schoolwork is concerned. Your far too bright for that, it would be an insult to your intelligence.” Severus took one bite out of a fresh slice of toast and then put it down in disgust. “Are you not eating that?” when Severus shook his head Lupin snagged it and bit half the toast of in one go.

“You must have had quite a workout to work up to an appetite like that,” the crimson in Lupin’ cheeks was, this time, accompanied with a grin.

“Something like that,” he mumbled.

They sat in, what Severus guessed, must have been relatively companionable silence for a the rest of breakfast then, when Lupin had finished his second plate, he looked around him to see Peter Pettigrew coming out of his tent. “I take it your leaving now?” Severus asked, with a hopeful tone in his voice.

“Yeah, I better.” Lupin’s face contracted in an unusual frown, “Severus … don’t go out of your tent tonight. Please?”

Severus shielded his eyes from the sun and looked up at Lupin, putting as much of a glare into his squint as he could, “Is that a threat?”

“No. I’m just saying that if something does happen … I won’t be able to do anything. That’s all,” and with that he walked off, giving Severus a parting wave.

* * *

Sirius wiped dirt from his face with near ferocious swipes. James kicked a stone which rebounded of off a tree and hit a Ravenclaw as she passed (he didn’t apologise) and Peter sat with his head in his hands on the ground. “It’s not that bad,” Remus tried, “We’ve got more hunts to go.”

“Not that bad?” Sirius hissed, “Slytherin won! Gryffindor are last in the table,” he leant into Remus ear as if he was embarrassed, “Hufflepuff are beating us” said the urgent whisper.

“Oh, come on. There’s loads of time left,” Remus looked up, catching Sirius bright blue eyes. His boyfriend picked a leaf out of his extremely mussed up tawny hair.

“Whatever. It was Snape’s team in first, I say we make sure he knows not to come in first tomorrow,” James could be very maous ous when he wanted to be. Especially when he was loosing and when he had things on his mind. Remus gave him his best withering look.

“So we cheat?” he asked, “We do the exact thing that you cornered Snape about?” none of them answered, they seldom did when he chose to use that tone with them, make them feel ashamed. “Grand,” and with that he walked off.

He stormed into the tent and sat for a while, rubbing dirt of off him and silently fuming. How could they be so … hypocritical? How could they do exactly what they made Severus suffer for ‘supposedly’ doing? It wasn’t fair, it just wasn’t - - Well he was going to stay right here. They could bully and push all they liked. He’d warned Severus and there was nothing more he could do.

He changed from his dirty clothes into something a little tidier, more comfortable. It didn’t improve his mood. He tried to read something for Transfiguration, he tried a few difficult charms. It didn’t improve his mood. Before he knew it his watch told him that it was eight-thirty.

Gently he squeezed the little fluffy ball of blue light. It was a simple charm Professor Goodkind had decided on so that they could see at night after there was an outbreak of black bruises from misplaced elbows. The blue light quivered gently and went out leaving a floating white ball of fluff in it’s place. If he’d have given it a seconds thought he would have said it was cute. As it was he simply barged out of his tent, looking over to where Severus Snape had pitched his.

The blue ball didn’t make tents see-through but there was always a faint outline so you were able to tell if someone was inside or not. Severus’ light was on but, as far as he could see, there was not outline. He walked toward the tent, he would check, in case he was laying down. A voice stopped him before he knocked.

“He’s not there,” it was Stacey the Hufflepuff sitting with her boyfriend, “He left about half an hour ago.” She bit her lip. There was more.

“Stace’?”

“James and Sirius followed him. Peter wanted to go back for you but they said you wouldn’t want to come. Sirius looked right pissed off about something,” she smiled gently, “I expect you two have had an argument, then?” he didn’t hear the whole of that last part. He was running into the woods. Gods, what were those idiots going to do now?

He loved his friends. He was in love with Sirius.

This, however, was not on.

When he came to the clearing there was the distinct sound of voices in the near darkness. Then there was a flash of light and a groan … it had come from Sirius. He could tell. Sirius groaned when he was with him, although for a different reason, and he could just tell. It was a bored groan, as if something was extremely tedious. Stumbling forward through the dark bush and wedging himself between two trees, Remus got his first glimpse of the scene.

Severus was standing a little way off, disturbingly close to the edge of the slope. He had his dark wooded wand pointed straight between Sirius’ eyes. Sirius was standing stiffly, his wand on the ground where he must have been made to toss it. James was laying, panting, very close to him, with Peter holding him up. He looked like he’d been punched in the gut. Remus also noticed that Peter was stuffing the narcotics Severus had been smoking into his pocket. One he had to grind out because it was still smoking.

So, half baked, Severus Snape had still managed to overcome three of his peers? Okay, two because Remus couldn’t see Peter’s wand anywhere. James and Sirius had grossly underestimated Severus, it seemed.

“Just put the wand down, Snape,” Sirius hissed, “We’ll leave and no one needs to get hurt - -” James made a furious grunt of protest from the ground and Remus felt like kicking him, “All right! No one else needs to get hurt.”

Severus didn’t even consider this, his hawkish features contracting in a look of pure disgust, “Put my wand down so that you can grind my face into the dirt?” he made a nasty little snorting noise, “Like hell.”

“Fuck! What the hell do you want me to do then?” Sirius asked, throwing up his hands and causing Severus to jerk his want at him, making him stay still, “Well? I’m not standing here all night freezing my tits off so that you can point that thing at me!” that, Remus felt, was his cue.

“Put the wand away, Severus,” he pushed himself from out in the bushes, “I’ll make sure he doesn’t hurt you. We’ll just walk away.” Severus got such a fright that he spun, holding his wand out to Remus, who threw his hands up in a surrender-like gesture.

The next part happened very quickly.

Sirius yelled, “Oi!” and threw himself at Snape, who’s wand went flying out of his hand on impact. Two owo of them, thankfully, rolled the opposite way from the slope and, fists flying, came to a stop with Sirius on top. James had managed to get up somehow and, with whatever sense he had left, grabbed Sirius arm before he could pulverise Severus further. Peter scrambled around, picking up both James and Sirius’ wands before giving Remus a tight-lipped smile, as if sensing his disapproval.

“What the hell did you do that for?” he roared at Sirius. His boyfriend, who had sds bds before been rubbing mud from himself, looked up. His expression changed from anger to shock. No one was accustomed to hearing Remus yell, for any reason. A restrained individual at heart, Remus rarely shouted or lost his temper. He had a journal into which he silently poured his rage and frustration, lancing off all of his venom before it touched his tongue. His journal was locked with a nice little spell which no one had been able to work out … not that they hadn’t tried.

“I-I,” for once Sirius seemed lost for words, “He pointed his wand at you!” his protests were mild and spoken in a low, hurt voice. This was the result of Remus’ guilt trips with them. Sirius’ temper would evaporate, James would get very quiet and Peter frequently burst into tears. That was precisely the reason that he didn’t do it often. He didn’t like upsetting people, least of all his friends.

“He wasn’t going to hurt me!” and for some reason he knew it was true, “There was no need for that, you just did it to show off, as usual. I’m sick of it, Siri’!” he tried to stop himself from using the nickname but it rolled of off his tongue. The result of this Remus had never before witnessed. When Sirius did lift his head and let Remus meet his eyes the blue depths were hollow and hurt, they were a lot wetter than usual. Oh, Christ. Sirius though he was going to break up with him.

Before he could say anything even remotely comforting a groan sounded and he almost ran over to Severus’ side, kneeling down.

There was an unpleasant scrape and a dripping patch of blood from Severus’ temple. It looked nasty. Remus put his hand in his pocket and pulled out a handkerchief which he pressed to the wound. Severus didn’t protest and Remus had the sickly feeling that he was beyond that, almost unconscious. His eyes were glazed and his eyelids were closing and flying open again at regular intervals. He looked very sick.

“James,” Remus whispered, “Give me your wand.” James and co must have sensed the seriousness of the situation because the request was granted instantly. When Remus had the wand he wracked his brain desperately trying to remember old Latin words that clung on at the end of his subconscious. He chanted slowly, desperate not to make the damage worse and, to his immense relief, the wound closed, the blood closed off from dripping onto the handkerchief. Severus still looked stunned.

“Is he all right?” Sirius asked in a low whisper, his voice threatening to crack with emotion thanks to Remus’ supposed betrayal.

“We’ll see in a second,” Remus answered and he picked up his wand again, “Ennervate,” he whispered. Luckily, it worked. Severus’ eyes flew open, he took one look around and got up, stumbling for his wand. As soon as he’d snatched it up he threw a furious look at Remus, “Thanks for nothing,” then he stalked off, back the way Remus had come.

In the stillness that followed Remus somehow made his way back to camp, just ahead of the others, keeping Severus in sight all the way. Five minutes later he’d told Sirius that James was swapping for the night, that he was sleeping with Peter. The same second he finally saw Sirius’ mask of cheerfulness break and misery creep into his eyes along with fresh tears.

To this day, Remus Lupin has no clue how he managed any of it, including the climbing into bed that quickly followed.