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Hands and Face Behind the Voice	By : CalecusX Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Snape Views: 8174 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 6
Disclaimer: Harry Potter & its characters all belong to J.K. Rowling. I make no profit from it.

Chapter List
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Azkaban - August 2, 1990

Stones of black rose high above the seas, the only man-made fortress in the surrounding elements. Strong winds spurred the turbulent waves, unrelenting in its harshness as they crashed against the walls. While grey clouds gathered above the structure, forming a miasma of asphyxiation that seemed to stretch past the horizon.

'What a dreary day,' Sirius thought morosely as he gazed out the barred window. 'Then again, the weather is like this year round.'

He sighed in disinterest and glanced around his cell. A toilet in the corner that breaks down more often than he likes, and a pile of hay for his bed laid in the opposite corner. Yup, this was the life. It couldn't get any better than this, with iron bars for doors and a stone wall for one side of the room and - oh, look - another stone wall... damn, he could be losing it now.

'Ugh, the dementors should just come and eat me already,' Sirius said to himself with frustration, flinging his hands against the floor as he sat there.

It was strange how the dementors had been leaving him alone for over a year now. Maybe they were finally fed up with their failed attempts to drain all the happiness from him. Well, it didn't matter because he certainly didn't miss them. Unfortunately, the only thing that didn't leave was the frigid cold. He believed it was the cold from the dementors that would gradually drive his health to the gutter. It left an iciness that seemed to seep beneath the skin and penetrate the bone, freezing everything.

There was no escape from it, but his animagus form did help to relieve a lot of the effects - both mental and physical. Sirius was never more grateful than he was, to be an animal with thick fur. And to think, he once complained about not being a hawk for his animagus form. But now that he thought about it, if he was a hawk then he could have flown right out of here from the start. Hm, what a useful form... yeah, he should have been a hawk.

The screeching sound of steel doors opening soon caught his attention. It was then followed by the stomping of heavy footsteps. During his long imprisonment here, there were only two people who has ever visited his cell: Fudge and Clayton. Since Fudge had already made his yearly visit in May, it could only be one other person.

"It's been a while, Clayton," he greeted the guard in a hoarse voice.

Albert Clayton was a death eater sympathiser, which was pretty ironic considering the old man was in charge of the high security level prisoners. Conveniently, Clayton was also the only guard to patrol his floor. And since Sirius was a 'mass murderer' and You-Know-Who's right hand man, Clayton had the house elves providing him with a decent amount of food. Now, all he needed was a comfortable bed and a good bath, then it would be exactly like a five star hotel.

"Well, I've been busy," Clayton replied roughly, standing behind the bars with his arms crossed.

The old man had a full head of white hair, standing a little over five feet. Clayton was a short man, but his broad shoulders and long arms made him oddly disproportional. It reminded Sirius of that animal Lily once showed him, saying that it must be a relative of his or something. What was it called? A zorilla or was it guzilla?

A cough from the other wizard had him meeting dull brown eyes. "By the end of this month I'm going to retire," Clayton informed him suddenly.

Sirius scratched his head at that. "So that's why I haven't seen you since June," he mentioned in realisation. "Are they going to send a rookie to replace you then?" Sirius couldn't say that he would miss the guy. Clayton was boring as hell, but the old man at least gave him some company through the years.

"Nah, they're cutting the numbers stationed here," Clayton said before sneering out, "Apparently, the Minister believes the dementors are more than enough to guard Azkaban."

He blinked in surprise as Clayton grumbled some more. Sirius knew that Fudge was an idiot, but this was beyond what he thought the Minister was capable of - Fudge was just a plain dumb arse.

"Anyway, that's about it," Clayton finished and began to walk away. "Now I have to go check the other cells before it gets dark."

"Hey, Clayton!" Sirius called out from the iron bars, stopping the other wizard. "Do you have the Daily Prophet on you?" He was in dire need of a distraction, and the newspaper had always provided that. Well, that and a good laugh at whoever Skeeter was ruining.

"Not this time," said Clayton, turning back towards him, "but it will interest you to know that the wizarding world is buzzing about the Boy-Who-Lived."

Sirius' breath stilled at the mention of his godson. Of Harry.

"What do you mean?" he asked quietly as a foreboding knot formed in his stomach.

It had been years since he heard any news of his godson. Years since he last laid eyes on his face. Years since his godson was handed over to Hagrid. It was a moment he would never forget.

With a grin, Clayton said, "The boy's whole family is dead from some accident, and while he survived, it left him completely blind."

Sirius could do nothing more but stare as Clayton ambled off with a chuckle and a wave of the hand, oblivious to his building rage. If it wasn't for the bars, Sirius would have launched himself at the man and torn his throat out with his canine teeth. As it was, he settled for destroying his bed of hay and cursing the seven hells.

When there was nothing left to ravage, he collapsed to his knees amongst the strewn hay. "Harry..." Sirius whispered with consuming guilt, holding his head in his hands. He shut his eyes, unable to see anything else but his godson's face as an infant. The face soon morphed into James, gazing at him with disappointment and betrayal. He failed them all.

"I'm so sorry, James..." Sirius choked out.

He couldn't even protect his godson for James, couldn't do anything trapped in here. At that last thought, Sirius quickly looked to the iron bars, and with a growl, he transformed into Padfoot. He needed to escape and get to Harry now. It was what he should have done years ago.

He approached the bars, determined as he angled his head. Slowly, Sirius managed to squeeze his head through the poles, and hoping this would work, he pushed harder... only to find his neck stuck in between the iron rods. 'Fuck!' he mentally cursed. Sirius wiggled around a little bit more, pulling back with all his strength before his head could finally pop free.

Okay, that was pretty reckless of him, to think he could escape just like that. Maybe this was what Remus was always telling him about, to not dive head first into a situation. Well, perhaps not too literally.

He sat on his hind legs, glaring at the bars. It seemed his body was too big to slide through, and the solution to that was obvious to him also. With a sigh, Sirius transformed back, hoping Harry would be all right for a few more weeks because there was something he had to do first - he needed to cut down on the food.

o-O-o

Hogwarts Grounds - August 8, 1990

The clear freshness of the air, was the first thing Harry noticed once they were outside. He and Professor Snape had decided to take a stroll around the lake that morning, and it was a pleasant change from their usual routine. Apparently, it was on Madam Pomfrey's order that he needed more exercise, but Harry didn't mind so much.

Going outside was something he did a lot at the Dursleys, and walks around the park was a typical activity for him. However, this would be the first time another person was with him on a stroll. Harry found himself enjoying the new experience as they walked by each other's side in silence, each occupied with their own thoughts.

The weeks living with Professor Snape were not what he had expected. It was completely different than staying with the Dursleys because with the professor, he actually felt welcomed. Harry was surprised how natural it seemed, living with the older wizard - as if he belonged.

Then, there were times when he couldn't believe how patient the potions master was and how... understanding. Professor Snape was still strict on certain things, like him eating three full meals a day, but when it came to his nightmares, the professor was always there by his side. Harry never realised how comforting it was to have someone care for him; it was a feeling he could easily become addicted to.

Yet most of all, Harry came to treasure the simple moments with the professor the most. Especially the quiet occasions where they would just sit by the fire at night while Professor Snape would talk about the wizarding world. In truth, spending time with the professor was his favourite part of the day.

"Let us stop right here, Potter," Professor Snape called out, followed with a light tap on his shoulder to signal their halt.

"Why here, Professor?" Harry wondered as he used the walking stick to inspect the ground.

"This is where I usually come on my walks to gather fungi," the potions master explained. "They grow along the trees here."

The professor did mentioned that he liked to collect certain ingredients himself. He just never imagined Professor Snape to be the outdoors type though. "Do you often go on walks, sir?" Harry asked.

"Yes, but preferably in the summer when I am free. Contrary to what most people believe, I do not spend all my time in the dungeons," Professor Snape said wryly. "I am capable of appreciating the serene beauty that Hogwarts has to offer."

The beauty of Hogwarts... his new home. Was it as wonderful, as all the other professors said it was?

"Professor, what does it all look like?" he inquired curiously.

"I assume you mean Hogwarts?" the older wizard questioned back.

"Yes, sir."

"Well, the castle is nestled on top of a hill that over looks a vast lake. Countless trees and mountains of immense size surrounds it in every direction. And many of the castle's great towers stand tall as it spirals high into the sky," Professor Snape described. "During the day, its many windows could be seen reflecting the sun's light. While at night, it emits a glow that could even compete with the stars. Hogwarts, I like to believe, is something untouched by time - changeless in its way."

The scenery the professor painted, reminded him of a fairy tale castle he once read. He would have never been able to dream, that such a place like this existed. Harry still had a hard time grasping that he was actually living at Hogwarts. If only he could just see it all.

For the first time, he truly hated his blindness.

"It's not fair," Harry murmured. "It's not fair that I can't see any of it."

"Potter," Professor Snape said his name quietly, in a tone he didn't recognised.

"I... I just want to be normal," he confessed guiltily, gripping the walking stick in a strained hold. "I know it's selfish of me but..."

Harry felt a hand on his shoulder, a firm grasp to reassure him.

"No, it's not selfish of you," the professor spoke resolutely. "You have every right to be hurt and angry about it."

Since the accident, he had tried to not think about his blindness and pretend it was okay. Harry was afraid that if he didn't, then everything would fall around him. That he would come to resent his situation because he couldn't do anything to fix it. It was this feeling of helplessness that he hated the most.

"Professor, I just- I just want to see it, at least once," Harry told him honestly. "I don't want to be blind like this."

The hand dropped from his shoulder, and he heard the professor's footsteps as it moved closer.

"You may not see it, but the sounds and smell around you are still there," said Professor Snape. "You can still feel it, Potter."

Harry then felt a soft touch on his left cheek. The back of fingers brushed his skin lightly. He shivered at the contact and leaned a little towards the touch.

"Can you feel the cool breeze as it passes by you? The warmth from the sun as it lies upon your skin?" Professor Snape asked intently. "Can you hear the rustle of the trees as it sways?"

In that instance, Harry heard, more than felt, the wild beating of his heart as it increased in tempo. It echoed loudly in his ear, and he wondered briefly if the professor could also hear it.

"Your sight may be gone," whispered Professor Snape, "but you have more to see the world with than just your eyes."

Professor Snape stroke his cheek one last time before removing the raised hand. Harry was surprised that he missed the warmth of his touch at once, but decided not to dwell on it right now.

"We should proceed back now," Professor Snape suggested, "it will be noon soon, and the headmaster has requested us to dine in the Great Hall today."

Harry nodded his head silently, resisting the urge to feel his own cheek, just so he could remember the sensation.

Together, they made the long trek back to the castle.

o-O-o

Headmaster's Office - August 11, 1990

"Would you care for a lemon drop, Severus?" Albus asked him, presenting a full tin of the yellow confections.

"They're not laced with a calming draught, are they?" Severus questioned as he eyed the offered sweets from across the desk with suspicion.

Once again, he was called to the headmaster's office for a private discussion, and this time, Severus was on high alert for any disconcerting news. It was perhaps judgmental on his part, to think that Dumbledore would always deliver ill tidings, but knowing the old coot's record, Severus would rather be prepared than not at all.

"Don't be silly, my boy," the headmaster answered with a chuckle. "The rumour mill from the staff room must still be going strong, if this is what everyone believes."

Well, that and much more. It was outrageous what his colleagues could conjure up over the summer holidays, when there were no brats to occupy themselves with. The latest rumour this week was of a love affair between Albus and Gellert Grindelwald. He snorted at the absurdness of that one when Babbling told him. That rumour has as much chance of being true, as the one of Filch having an affair with his cat. However, as disturbing as it was, this was not what they were here to discuss.

"Was there something you needed, Albus?" Severus wanted to get this over with quickly, and he wasn't in the mood for any more small talk.

Placing the tin of lemon drops away, the headmaster clasped his hands together and pinned him with a serious look. "Severus, what are your thoughts on hiring a tutor for young Mr. Potter?"

Besides the slight narrowing of his eyes, Severus gave no other indication to what he felt about that question. In all honesty, he was against the idea of a stranger being around Potter without his supervision. Severus was not being overly protective or unreasonable about it, since there were some who would use the boy for their own ends if given the chance. And then, there were those who simply wanted Potter dead. Really, if he didn't have white hair by the time he was forty, it would be a miracle.

"Potter is doing sufficiently well on his self study, and I've already begun potion theory with him," Severus responded carefully. "A tutor at this moment is not necessary."

"Perhaps... but once the school year starts, you will hardly have time for the boy," the headmaster explained calmly. "He will need a tutor to start him with magical theory, and to help prepare him for Hogwarts."

It was a valid point, but that was still dependent on whether the tutor was a psychotic murderer or not. "Be that as it may, there is a low possibility of finding a tutor who won't take advantage of Potter as the Boy-Who-Lived," Severus countered. "It should also be mentioned that Potter will require a different method of teaching due to his lack of sight."

A sudden chirp from the other side of the office temporarily stalled their conversation. He looked over to see Fawkes snapping his beak in hunger.

"Oh, pardon me, Severus," said Dumbledore. The headmaster swiftly got up and strode over to the phoenix with a summoned bowl of fruits. Fawkes seemed to be in his fledgling form, some time after a burning day and with nothing more than a fluff of feathers covering its body. The headmaster gently fed the bird as it eagerly gulped down the pieces. It was strange how Albus appeared to be like a fussing parent at that moment.

Eventually, Dumbledore returned to his seat once Fawkes was satisfied and resumed their conversation. "I agree with you that not everyone will be suitable for the role, but there is a person that I have in mind, who can qualify for such a position," Albus informed him steadily, looking up to survey his reaction. "Someone we can trust to keep the boy safe and with the ability to teach Mr. Potter despite his blindness."

'So Albus has already chosen someone right from the beginning,' he thought with irritation. It was just like Dumbledore, to make plans without considering anyone else's opinion. The headmaster's habit of keeping secrets was aggravating even on the best of days. Although, he shouldn't have expected any less from a man who has commanded them in the last war.

Holding down his annoyance, Severus then racked his mind for a person that could fit Albus' description. Without a doubt, it was a person they both knew, but only Dumbledore trusted. That meant it was someone he certainly disliked. Unfortunately, there was a long list of people in that category. However, there were only a few whom Albus would trust with Potter. No sooner had he finished the thought, did Severus quickly discover the identity of the person.

"No," Severus declared quietly, eyes locked with the headmaster's blue ones. In a firmer voice, he continued, "Anyone else but him, Albus. I refuse to have him be the one to teach Potter."

He didn't want to have any association with that man. Severus had more than enough of him in school, and would like it to stay that way. If it was up to him, he would have liked to forget the man's existence altogether.

"There is no one else better suited, Severus," Albus tried to convince him, "and his condition will not be a problem, as long as we have safety measures in place."

Apparently, Albus had disregarded the fact that this 'condition', almost got him killed when he was younger. Controlling his temper, Severus tightly replied, "He is not the best choice for Potter."

Gazing at him from under his half-moon glasses, Albus asked in return, "Is he not the best for the boy, or not the best for you?"

His lips thinned at the comment, not only did it struck a nerve, but it was also true. It was indeed hard to let go of his anger, and accept the man. His feelings of contempt all those years ago were too ingrained within him to change. Severus may never be able to forgive him for his past transgressions, but for Potter, he would give that man a chance. For Potter, he would try to be... courteous.

"I reserve the right to dismiss him if it doesn't work out for Potter," he said in way of agreement. "If Potter doesn't want him, then the matter is over."

"Of course," Albus readily complied. "It is, after all, your decision."

'Of course, it is,' he thought sarcastically. Severus eventually stood up and nodded his head stiffly. "If that is all, Albus, then I shall take my leave."

"Then thank you for your time, Severus," said Dumbledore, eyes alit with a sparkle.

At the sight of the infamous twinkle, Severus suddenly had the urge to apparate far away. He instantly strode towards the door, and as his hand was about to reach for the handle, Albus' voice stopped him.

"Ah, there is something else I forgot to mention, Severus."

His shoulders stiffened with apprehension as Severus turned around, dreading what else the headmaster could possibly want now.

o-O-o

Snape's Quarters - August 12, 1990

Lambent flames paraded inside the hearth as Severus and his ward lounged on the sofa, taking comfort in the warmth. The atmosphere was peaceful while he read a loud The Tales of Beedle the Bard. Albus had recommended the book, insisting that he read to Potter himself instead of charming the thing to narrate out loud. The headmaster had suggested it to be used for 'bonding time', and it took all of his trained occlumency skills to not strangle the old coot right where he stood.

Severus knew the book was a fairy tale classic for children in the wizarding world. He certainly remembered his mother reading it to him when he was a child. It unexpectedly captured his attention for a short time, enough to ignore the troubles within his family. Severus just never imagined that he would be reading that same book to another child twenty years later.

Potter remained silent through out the story, appearing to be attentive. However, Severus could discern by the boy's unfocused gaze that Potter was slightly distracted. The young wizard didn't seem disinterested, since he recognised that look when Potter had something to say. Of course, he didn't mind waiting until Potter felt ready enough to speak. It was only when the boy took a considerable amount of time would he resort to slight encouragements.

It wasn't until he reached the end of the second story, did Potter choose to break his silence.

"Uh, sir?" the child quietly spoke up.

Potter bit his bottom lip in uncertainty, a habit he inherited from Lily. There was an improvement in Potter's hesitancy when he requested certain things, but there were still times when the young wizard would revert back to that shy and timid behaviour. Severus would do his best to bring out the child's confidence, but knew that these things should be taken a step at a time.

"Yes?" he replied back. The potions master wondered what could be bothering his ward now.

There was a delay before, "I-may I touch you?"

"What!" he exclaimed in shock, eyes wide as they stared at the young wizard. Severus couldn't possibly have heard that correctly.

"I meant your face, sir! Your face!" Potter cried out desperately, face as red as could be while his hands clutched to the edge of the sofa.

Severus clenched his eyes shut and breathed out. "Is it safe to assume that you wish to perceive my appearance?" he asked with difficulty.

The potions master opened his eyes in time to see Potter nodding quickly, the boy's voice having fled for the moment. The blush stubbornly clung to the youth's cheeks as Potter averted his eyes. It was then that Severus noticed that without the round glasses, Potter's features were softer than his father's. He shook his head slightly to reorganise his thoughts; he had something more crucial to consider.

Severus understood what the child was asking. It was reasonable to know the appearance of the person you lived with. He knew it was an attempt to regain any normality in a situation where one seemed unattainable. If Potter couldn't see him with his eyes, then the boy would see him with his hands. It was this empathy that lead to his decision.

"All right," Severus said quietly.

"Huh?" Potter let out, gazing up in confusion.

"I have given you my permission, to proceed with your request," he clarified for the boy.

"Really? I mean, you don't have to if you don't want to, sir," Potter quickly explained. "I understand that it might be a little weird and -"

"Potter, stop your rambling," Severus said as his lips quirked in mirth. "I've already said it was okay."

It seemed the boy had also inherited Lily's tendency to chatter nervously. Severus would never admit it out loud, but he found it to be oddly endearing coming from Potter. Usually, he considered it to be an annoying trait if it came from anyone else. Even when it came from Lily, he believed it to be amusing at best.

Potter twisted his body to face him. "So, I can really touch you, Professor?" the young wizard asked again in confirmation, eyes blinking innocently.

He swallowed uncomfortably at the repeated question. Severus wished the boy didn't have to phrase it in such a way. He knew that if Lucius was here to see this, the Malfoy lord would have been smirking and making suggestive comments at his expense. With relief, he mentally sent his gratitude to the inept Ministry for keeping his friend occupied.

He then turned his attention back to Potter. "I believe my statement was clear enough the first time," Severus answered evenly. "Now, shall we get on with it before I change my mind?"

"Yes, sir!" Potter agreed at once. The boy scooted closer to him with a determined look. Potter appeared as if he was ready to face off a whole herd of manticores to the death and win.

'How comforting,' Severus thought sardonically as he grasped the boy's right hand.

Carefully, he lifted the appendage, guiding it to his face. A quiet gasp escaped from Potter as the boy's fingers touched his skin. Severus then released his hold, but the small hand remained frozen, uncertain in its action. It was at this point that he doubted his decision, until the hand finally moved across his countenance.

Tentative fingers first explored his cheeks, slowly caressing it. He tried to stay motionless as Potter examined him, but it was a difficult task to achieve when the touches were so gentle. The hand then moved to his forehead, mapping out the creases caused from his many frowns and frustrations. Severus began to breathe heavily before he briefly closed his eyes as fingers glided over his eyelids.

The small fingertips moved further to lightly ghost over the bridge of his nose, memorising the shape. Severus tried to keep his own brand of anxiousness down, knowing that his nose was often ridiculed for being crooked. But Potter did not pull away in disgust, and the soothing contact persisted on.

Hesitantly, Potter's forefinger softly brushed over his lips. It was then, that Severus felt his heart beating chaotically against his chest, unable to recall the last time anyone has touched him like this.

He ignored his reaction and chose to concentrate on Potter instead. The boy had an expression of awe and amazement on his face, which he couldn't understand. Potter should realise by now that he wasn't a handsome man, and he wasn't delusional enough to think otherwise. Yet for the young wizard, it was perhaps something entirely different.

At last, the boy's hand pulled away, and Potter ended up tracing small lips with the same finger that felt his. Potter appeared to be in a daze, swiping the bottom lip again, and Severus in turn was entranced by the movement. He watched as Potter continued on until the bell from the clock tolled, signaling a new hour and snapping them out of it.

It was such a banal interruption that he found himself irritated by it.

The thing rung twice more before it descended into silence. The quietness remained as he thought about what had transpired between them. Severus didn't know why, but a feeling of embarrassment was rushing into him. It filled him until he had to fight his own blush down.

He was just helping Potter with his blindness and nothing more. But why then, couldn't he stop feeling like this? Eventually, his ponderings were cut short when the child spoke up.

"Thank you, sir," Potter said gratefully, looking towards him with a red tinge still visible, "for everything, I mean."

Severus cleared his throat before he could voice his reply. "You don't need to thank me, Potter. I am your guardian and professor," he stated simply. "If it's in my ability to do so, I shall always try to help you." It was true, he would do anything for the boy.

In response, the softest smile seemed to adorn the young wizard, and Severus knew that he wouldn't mind seeing that expression on Potter's face more often.

o-O-o

Being Division of the Dept. of Regulation & Control of Magical Creatures - August 16, 1990

With a disappointed sigh, he left the office of the Werewolf Support Services. Remus tugged his tattered robes awkwardly as he entered the long queue in the lobby of the Being Division. While most of the magical creatures in line were there to file a complaint or such, he was there to ask for an appeal to attain the Wolfsbane potion.

In the past, werewolves would be able to receive the potion anonymously. But with the new anit-werewolf laws emerging, it was getting harder to attain it without identification. This wasn't what Remus had hoped for on his return to Britain a week ago, after months of travel around France in search for work.

Unfortunately, that trip proved to be a fruitless endeavor toppled with a heaping of bad luck. Numerous wizards had refused to employ him because of his sketchy history of jobs. And the ones that did, usually uncovered his condition soon after the full moon. Those were the ones that would often react violently towards him.

Believe it or not, one witch had actually attempted to stab him with a silver knife. Silver doesn't even affect werewolves since that was only a muggle myth. However, that mattered little to the witch as she frantically waved her blade around, calling him a 'man-eating dog'.

'How does one respond to that? Sorry, I only bite once a month - please don't stab me?' Remus asked himself tiredly. It was more than disheartening, yet he couldn't help but believe it would eventually get better.

Raised voices ahead of him soon diverted his attention from such thoughts, causing him to look up.

"I was in line before you," a hag argued with a goblin beside her. "Get to the back like the rest, you cretin."

"You stepped out of the line," the goblin stated with a sneer. "Thus, you have forfeited your place."

"I did not!" the hag shrieked, pointing her crusty fingernail at the other creature. "This is not your bank, so stop making up these ridiculous rules!"

"Then it's quite obvious you don't understand the rules," the goblin spat out, "since your intelligence can be match to that of a troll."

Remus, along with everyone else near the vicinity, backed away from the pair. They watched as it ascended into a loud screaming match, that was quite unpleasant for the ears. Well, this was the last thing he expected to see at the Ministry: a hag and a goblin bickering over their place in line.

Wizards from the department instantly rushed forward to quell the argument. However, their intervention did as much good as telling an infestation of gnomes, to politely go burrow somewhere else. Which was very ineffective if one considered the disposition of gnomes.

Ultimately, the duo had decided on a physical solution, since wizarding magic was the only magic permitted within the Ministry. It began with a smack to the goblin's head from the hag, and in retaliation, the goblin kicked his opponent near the shin. From there, it ignited into a brawl of gnarled fists and pointy feet.

"Fighting amongst ourselves is certainly uncivilized," a smooth voice spoke from over his shoulder, abruptly startling him.

His body tensed instinctively, preparing for an attack as the wolf inside of him awoken to a threat. With caution, Remus turned around to the sight of a tall man with waxy, pale skin. He was dressed in a simple, dark green overcoat, but his shoulder length hair was tied together at the nape in an aristocratic manner.

"Don't you agree?" the man asked with a smile, displaying two white fangs.

Vampire.

The wolf within him growled territorially as he struggled to retain a calm outward appearance.

It was strange that he didn't sense the vampire before this. Remus should have recognised the vampire's scent as soon as he stepped inside the room. This prompted him to subtly breathed in the creature to investigate the abnormality. It was then that he discovered something extremely unsettling - there was no scent.

How was that possible? Every magical being had a scent; it was as prominent as the magic they carried within them. Remus should have been able to detect the little magic that vampires possessed. But he couldn't feel anything from this vampire, and that made the wolf even more agitated. Remus pushed the wolf down as it tried to claw its way to the surface. He couldn't afford to lose himself now out of all times.

"How can we cooperate with one another, when there are those who still fight against their very nature," the vampire continued flippantly, though sharp black eyes gazed at him with challenge. "It is truly... pathetic."

He knew the vampire wasn't referring to the quarreling pair this time. The wolf snarled louder in his mind, itching to sink its teeth into the other creature, but his grip on the wolf remained firm.

Remus kept his focus on the vampire as he finally offered a response. "At times, it is best not to fall prey to urges," he spoke carefully. "Otherwise, cooperation is pointless amongst us if the animal seizes control."

" 'Animal' you say?" the vampire repeated with curiosity, stepping closer towards him. "How amusing, you imply as if being human has any merit."

"Were you not a human once?" Remus questioned as he tried to maintain some distance between them. This seemed to entertain the vampire further, but it also halted the other creature's movement.

By now, a large group had gathered around the hag and goblin. Some were rooting for the goblin as it managed to deliver a well aimed strike to the hag's jaw. Remus and the vampire lingered near the edge of the crowd as it continued to cheer on, oblivious to the mounting tension.

"Yes," the vampire replied with an incline of the head, causing strands of light brown hair to fall near his eyes, "and I am indebted to the many deities out there, that I was saved from such a fate."

"Some would say that you are curse with an even worse fate," Remus said pointedly, unable to keep the animosity out of his voice as the wolf churned his emotions.

"Perhaps," said the vampire, his gaunt face impassive until it turned into another fanged smile, "but it is a fate, still not as cruel and tragic as yours."

His hands clenched into fists as he tempered his anger. To most vampires, a werewolf's life was filled with suffering and turmoil. Those infected with lycanthropy tend to live shorter lives due to the painful transformations and constant battle with their inner wolf. Though arduous, he would rather live that short life than an eternity of a vampire's hollowed existence.

"That may be, but I still retain my humanity," Remus declared roughly, staring directly into the uncaring gaze.

"Then tell me, my fellow creature," the vampire said in a mocking tone, "for how long can you keep it?"

Fingernails dug into his palm as he narrowed his eyes. The way those words were said...

Before he had a chance to respond, the crowd around them began to disperse. It seemed the wizards from the department had finally realised the usefulness of their wands and stunned the fighting goblin and hag.

With the scattering of the crowd, it appeared to be the opportune moment for the vampire to also depart. The other creature walked away languidly, but paused to looked back at him.

"My name is Aarik Durkel by the way," the vampire, Durkel, informed as he sauntered off, "and the best of luck to you and your humanity, Werewolf."

o-O-o

Remus gazed upon the small cottage with relief once he arrived by apparition. It was more like a run-down shack than a cottage, with the shingles falling off carelessly like the autumn leaves - expected but annoying to clean up. It was rented out to him by a friendly old lady, who was able to overlook his shabby appearance and inconsistent payment.

The wooden door unlocked with a flick of his wand, opening up to a sparse sitting room. The walls were coated in peeling blue paint while the furnitures laid in a decrepit state, dwindled by the passage of time. It wasn't much, but it passed enough for a shelter, since this was the best he could afford.

Entering the small kitchen, Remus quickly set the kettle on the stove for tea. After the day he had, perhaps a glass of fire whiskey wouldn't be so bad either. As the water boiled, he sat in a chair with a sigh and closed his eyes in exhaustion. Despite his efforts to relax, his mind soon wandered back to the occurrence at the Ministry.

Aarik Durkel.

The encounter with the strange vampire still left him wary and on edge. This was one creature he hoped to never meet again. Everything about Durkel felt wrong, and it had his wolf bristling with a hostility no other vampire had managed. Whatever it was, there was no doubt that Durkel was dangerous. It was hard to forget the cold malice hidden behind that smile.

It was as if any life that could have existed inside that man had long extinguished, leaving nothing behind but a rotting carcass. As much as the wolf hated Durkel, there was a part of him that felt a trace of fear. A fear of losing himself inside the emptiness that emanated from the vampire.

Before Remus could muse any further on the subject, a tap from the window alerted him to another presence. He glanced over to see an owl with a letter.

"An owl for me?" Remus questioned out loud, standing up. "I wonder who this could be from..."

o-O-o

Hogwarts 2nd Floor Corridor - March 9, 1973

"Severus?" Lily called from behind the closed door. "Are you in there?"

Not for the first time that day, he cursed his luck and everything that had to do with Potter and Black. Severus pressed the handkerchief against his nose in an attempt to stop the flow of blood. He looked around the dust filled classroom in search of another way out. Aggravatingly, out of all the rooms he could have chosen to hide in, it had to be the one with only a single entrance.

The door opened with a loud creak as Lily peered inside. He quickly turned his back, stalling for time and the eventual need for an explanation.

"Severus, what are you doing in here?" she questioned, approaching him from behind. "I thought we were suppose to meet in the library."

"I was just taking a detour," Severus lied, facing away from her. "How did you find me anyway?" He thought this classroom had been unused for years.

"With the Point Me charm, of course," Lily said before she laid a hand on his shoulder. "What's wrong?"

With a mental sigh, Severus reluctantly turned around, causing a gasp of surprise from her. He carefully hid a wince as he shifted his foot, trying not to lean on it.

"Oh, Sev," she whispered worriedly, "what have those idiots done to you?" Lily immediately took out her own handkerchief to dab at the blood near his chin.

"It's nothing, Lily," Severus reassured her as he tried to breathe through the thin fabric, "I'm fine." It was only after he had said that word, did Severus realised his mistake.

"Fine!" she yelled a little too close to his ear, and Severus didn't even try to stop the wince from that shout. Perhaps he should now add ear damage to his list of injuries. At this point, he was gathering a nice collection of it. "You're bleeding everywhere! And you say you're 'fine'."

Well, 'bleeding everywhere' was a bit of an overstatement. Only his tie and the collar of his shirt had any blood on it, which wasn't that much compared to the amount still bleeding from his nose. With a strong cleaning charm and a good wash, it should remove most of the troublesome stains. However, he didn't think now would be the appropriate time to tell his friend that.

"It was nothing more than a tripping jinx," Severus tried to tell her and before Lily could dispute that he added, "down the stairs." He purposely left out that it was the moving staircases. His friend didn't need to worry any more than she was doing at the moment.

"What? I can't believe those boys!" Lily cried in outrage, eyes burning a deadly vivid green. "Of all the stupid and reckless things to do. Oh, just they wait, I'm going to curse their manhood so much that once I'm through, they'll be begging for forgiveness."

Severus surreptitiously took a step away from her as Lily described in detail the process of their punishment, arms waving in the air for emphasis. It was times like these, that he was glad not to be at the end of her volatile temper.

"Lily, don't worry about it," Severus spoke over her agitated voice. "I have already taken care of it."

She paused in her tirade, head swiveling to him. "What do you mean?" Lily asked suspiciously.

"I cursed them back with a Leg-Locker Curse," he revealed with a vicious smile. "They had their own trip down the stairs." It was a truly beautiful sight, as angry shock took over their faces when they fell from his spell. Without a doubt, it was a memory Severus would forever treasure many years from now.

Lily stared at him incredulously before a slow smile grew on her face. "I can't believe you!" she said with a chuckle. "You actually got them back." After the amusement died down, she shook her head in exasperation, "Still, you should have gone to a professor."

"I rather handle it myself," Severus said. He hated running to other people to resolve his problems (especially with Potter and Black). Perhaps he was just stubborn, but he believed it to be weak to hide behind others.

"Well, healing yourself is something you can't handle. We should take you to Madam Pomfrey," Lily told him. "If only I knew some healing spells."

"Lily, we're only in our second year," Severus remarked. "We'll have plenty of time to learn that later."

He took the handkerchief away from his nose when it wasn't bleeding as much. Now it was Lily's turn to wince.

"How bad is it?" Severus asked, hoping it didn't look as bad as it felt. The last thing he needed was a visit to the Saint Mungos' Emergency Ward.

"I think it might be broken," she said apologetically.

"Fantastic, as if it wasn't ugly and crooked enough," he sneered depreciatingly. Severus wasn't one to care for his appearance or worry about how others perceive him, but there was still a part of him that was self-conscious about his least favourable feature. He was looking forward to the end of this awkward adolescent phase. By the time he got to be a wrinkly old man, Severus wouldn't care about his looks then.

"It's not ugly, Severus," Lily asserted. "Crooked, yes, but I think it gives a certain strength and character to your face."

'More like a bigger target,' Severus thought sullenly. He grabbed his school bag, getting ready to leave for a, hopefully, short visit to the hospital wing.

"Come on, Sev," Lily tried to cheer him up, "it's not that bad." She then stood in front of him as he was about to reach for the door. "How about a kiss to make it feel better?" she asked before pecking him on the cheek.

"Ow!" he cried out. Apparently, Lily kissed him where a bruise was starting to form. It seemed that today just wasn't his day.

"Sorry," Lily said bashfully as she went to opened the door for him. Together, they slowly walked down the corridor, and if Lily noticed his slight limp, she did not comment on it.

"I thought it was suppose to make me feel better," Severus mumbled in a disgruntled tone.

With a smile, she said, "Well, I guess my kisses are just not compatible with grumpy Slytherins."

He gave Lily a glare, which provoked her to hum a happy tune in response.

If Severus wasn't certain of it before, he was now: today was definitely not his day.

TBC
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Hands and Face Behind the Voice