The Light In The Darkness | By : RikuRocks Category: Harry Potter AU/AR > Slash - Male/Male Views: 2792 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0 |
Disclaimer: I do not own any rights to Harry Potter, nor am I making any money from this work of fiction. |
Severus closed the door behind him, locked it by both Muggle and magical means, and then put up every ward and spell he knew that would prevent anyone from entering, approaching, or even hearing him. Then, he threw his wand across the room, dropped his head in his hands, and slumped against the door. He stayed like that for some time before numbly removing his robes and heading toward the bathroom.
It was even longer before he emerged into his bedroom, hair dripping and skin red from the hot water and thorough scrubbing, though he still did not feel clean…he doubted he would for quite some time.
The Potions Master paused once his eyes fell on his bed and spotted an object that made him feel as though he had been punched in the stomach.
It was an old book; plain but durable, worn but serviceable, simple but comforting…much like the man that had given it to him.
Remus had been so sad that they could not be together for Christmas. He tried to hide it, and he did so very well, but Severus could read those gentle eyes and mild smiles as clearly as the pages of the book currently lying on his bed. Molly was insistent that Remus not be ‘alone’ for the holidays, however, and it was too dangerous to let any of the others know the two spies were together.
Instead, they had simply celebrated together a little early that year. Remus said that this particular book had reminded him of Severus even when he first read it in his teens. The title reminded Severus of Remus, however; as no one else seemed to share his view on the importance of being earnest…
Severus forced himself not to remember.
Remus had forgiven him every sin that others condemned him for, had offered understanding and compassion where all others had offered fear and loathing, had seen a man and an equal where everyone else saw a fiend full of deceit.
…But even Remus, unobtrusive and kind-hearted as he was, could not forgive this sin. Dumbledore had meant too much to them both for so long.
Severus stepped closer to the book before stopping in his tracks again, his usual instincts kicking in as he silently cursed himself for leaving his wand in the other room.
The book was turned to a different page than the one he had left it open to…his bookmark had not even been moved to attempt to hide the fact. Someone had clearly been in his house. It did not matter who; the Order, the Ministry, the ‘other’ Death Eaters…none could be trusted now. He took a quick glance around the room; there were no other signs of tampering and he knew he would have noticed if someone had gone through his sitting room, numb or not.
Returning his full attention to the book, Severus felt his heart rate speed up as a new sort of pain leaped into his chest.
Lying on one of the open pages was a fine hair. It was slightly waved, light brown with a touch of silver near the root, and around twenty centimetres long. Severus knew this hair and many identical to it; he had run his hands though it during passionate kisses, grasped it during rough lovemaking, and stroked it gently afterwards. He had seen a pair of warm eyes glance at him through it, and had brushed it away from those eyes many times. He had seen the touches of silver slowly make their presence known throughout the rich fawn colour, and seen it disappear entirely to be replaced by coarse fur for an evening. He had smelled it as the head it was attached to rested on his chest or shoulder, and kissed it as it trembled beneath him.
Severus had never given much thought to Remus' hair before, and he was amazed that one single strand could make him feel and remember so much.
Looking more closely, for he knew Remus would not leave a hair behind by mistake, Severus noted the passage beside which the silver tip rested. The line that Remus had teased fit Severus to a T.
“I hope you have not been leading a double life, pretending to be wicked and being really good all the time. That would be hypocrisy.”
“…And what is that supposed to mean?”
“Oh come now, Severus. You can patronise and complain all you like, but you and I know that you are just as brave and noble as us Gryffindors at heart.”
“I take umbrage to that, Remus.”
“Don’t worry…I’ll keep your secret. I am very good at that, you know.”
“I know; however, I am more interested in other things that you are very good at right now.”
“Hmm…I suppose I need to make up for that Gryffindor comment…”
“That you do…and I have an excellent suggestion as to where you can begin.”
The raven-haired man forced the memory back there, not wanting to be distracted.
No matter how pragmatic or pessimistic Severus was, he could not help but feel a small tickling of hope.
Remus was asking a question of him. Remus suspected that there was more to recent events than met the eye. Remus knew Severus and, even more remarkably, he loved and trusted him.
Remus did not hate him yet. He was no doubt hurt and confused, but he was not willing to condemn him until he was certain. One of the many things that Severus respected about the werewolf was that he learned from experiences. The obsidian-eyed man wondered why he had not thought of that before. Of course, Remus would not repeat the mistake of believing someone he loved was guilty, just because it appeared that way.
Severus closed the book and headed for his sitting room to retrieve his wand. He still had a war to fight, a Dark Lord to destroy, and a lover to explain himself to when it was all over.
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