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Feb. 21st, 2017
Loose ends chapter 19 - Romania
Feb. 21st, 2017 11:34 pmSnape is hallucinating, and thinks that Lupin has just returned from a business trip to Romania. Reference to child abuse and continued drug withdrawl, illness. PG.
This is a work of fan fiction. The world and all recognisable characters belong to J.K. Rowling and I make no claim or profit etc
Romania
It was a sleepless night for Lupin. Every half hour or so, Snape had a nightmare and would begin speaking, crying or screaming. Most of the nightmares seemed to involve his childhood, and Lupin was able to calm him, sometimes with Grimmy’s help, by reassuring him that his father was not coming for him. Sometimes Snape wanted his mother, but mostly he wanted to know she wasn’t there either. Lupin was struck by the chilling thought that, of all the children he had known, the child Snape was the only one to have been reassured by the promise that his parents were not there, were not coming for him.
Just before sunrise, Lupin’s body finally rebelled at the lack of sleep with yet another post-Cruciatus attack. He remained in the chair as long as possible, before attempting to move himself to Harry’s bed. As he collapsed to the floor in a tangle of long limbs, he realised that he had left it too late. He began to convulse, sensing Grimmy standing over him, barking to alert Andromeda and Harry that he was in trouble. He groaned as he remembered the muffling charms placed on the room to stop Snape’s nightmares waking Teddy.
For a time that felt like eternity, Lupin was aware of nothing but pain and some occasional distant screams, which he knew were his own. Eventually he felt the attack abating and became vaguely aware of Snape leaning over him. He blinked his eye, trying desperately to focus on the face hovering above. Then he felt hands sliding under his body, lifting him from the floor and carrying him gently to a bed which didn’t smell like his own.
“Lupin? Lupin? What’s the matter? What happened to you?”
Lupin moaned, not coherent enough to speak. He felt a hand slip behind his neck and gently lift his head. He sipped the water that was held to his lips then lay back, the room swimming around him. Snape leaned over him, his face concerned.
“What happened, Lupin?” he asked gently.
Lupin gave a soft sigh.
“Post-Cruciatus,” he said in a weak voice.
Snape’s brow creased.
“Merlin, what happened to you in Romania?”
Lupin blinked. Romania? What was Snape talking about? He hadn’t been in Romania for years, not since the start of the second war. He stared up at Snape, who looked confused and ill, and suddenly the fuzziness in his mind cleared. Lupin realised that Snape’s mind had wandered into yet another chapter of his past. They had been lean years for Lupin, few friends, sporadic employment, no enemy to make a werewolf seem like a lesser evil. He had taken on whatever work he could, including dangerous missions in search of obscure potion ingredients and other rarities. Romania was one of the locations he visited more frequently, becoming fluent in the language to better negotiate for whatever obscure items his colleagues sought. Lupin had been surprised when Snape came to him as a customer, but was nothing if not pragmatic. Dumbledore trusted him, and his gold was as good as anyone else’s.
“Did you have trouble with the vampires Lupin?” Snape asked.
Lupin shook his head, regretting it immediately as it the room began to move again.
“No trouble at all, Severus. They really are quite charming once you get to know them.”
“Charming? Vampires?”
Lupin gave a slight smile. It was true, the vampires really had been quite charming once they realised that Lupin was neither a threat nor a meal. It had taken a while to reach that point, but he had come to enjoy his visits to the remote Transylvanian mountains. He tried pushing himself up into a seated position, and suddenly Snape was there helping him again.
“Then what did happen, Lupin?”
The werewolf paused for a moment, considering whether to play along or set Snape straight. He’d tried both, but had had more success with Snape, and with Harry before him, by playing along. He recalled those days of uneasy détente between himself and Snape, and responded in a polite but firm voice which invited no enquiry.
“It’s not your concern, Severus,” Lupin replied. “I appreciate your kindness very much, but I’m not prepared to discuss the other aspects of my trip.”
Snape nodded. He had always respected Lupin’s discretion in obtaining ingredients that he didn’t always want others to know he had. He had given the same discretion when Lupin requested unusual potions from him, such as those for purging muggle medications from the bodies of the wizards he and Clarridge rescued. Lupin wondered whether the Snape from those days would have lifted him off the floor and put him to bed if he found him writhing in pain on the floor of his tiny cottage. Perhaps, Lupin thought. The man’s behaviour was at times surprising. But concern would not have been visible on his face. The Snape from those days was unreadable, the only emotions he ever expressed to Lupin were hostility and disgust. The Snape who knelt beside Lupin now was utterly transparent, his shields shredded and his emotions fragile.
Suddenly there was a click of the door handle, and both men turned, vigilant. Harry stepped into the room, his eyebrows drawing together as he noticed the unexpected role reversal, with Lupin lying in bed, Snape kneeling beside him.
Snape’s face drained of all colour, as if he had seen a ghost.
“Potter,” he whispered, scrambling back against the wall, eyes magnified with fear.
Lupin realised that Snape really had seen a ghost. He was seeing James Potter walk through the door years after the man had been killed. Lupin spoke quickly.
“Severus, do you know Martin Potter? He’s a cousin of James – he only started Hogwarts when we were finishing so you probably didn’t meet him.”
Snape relaxed visibly, immediately accepting Lupin’s story of the non-existent Martin Potter. Harry stood looking at Lupin for cues. He’d got used to the way that Lupin managed Snape’s confusion and followed Lupin’s cues to play along when needed.
“Martin’s also interested to see how I got on in Romania.”
Snape looked at Harry curiously.
“You don’t need to know Severus,” Lupin said sharply, “and you can forget you ever saw him here.” Lupin turned to Harry. “It’s quite alright, Severus knows how to keep his mouth shut, as I’m sure you do too.”
“If this is a bad time, Remus, I can come back,” Harry said.
“That would be most helpful Martin, tomorrow would be better, but I won’t keep you in suspense. The answer’s yes, I do have what you were after.”
Harry backed out of the room, and waited just outside, removing the muffling charms so he could listen. He heard Lupin’s voice, calm and soothing, and eventually the door clicked open and he saw Snape in bed asleep and a clearly exhausted Lupin back in his chair.
“What was that all about?” Harry asked quietly.
“Another memory, I used to travel to Romania sometimes to get potion ingredients for Snape. For some reason, he thought I’d just been on a trip.”
“Why Romania? And what were you doing getting potion ingredients for Snape?”
Lupin sighed, too tired to explain.
“Vampires mostly. And he paid me for it. I had to eat somehow.”
Harry suddenly seem to remember what was going on.
“Remus, what happened before? You look awful.”
“I got tired. I had a Post-Cruciatus attack. I must have woken Severus, and he looked after me, but he was… confused again.”
“Oh Remus, I’m sorry, I should have never left you to stay with him overnight.”
“It’s okay Harry, it might have happened anyway. It’s over now, I’ll go to bed and get some sleep if that’s okay.”
“Of course, I’ll take you.”
Harry moved Lupin’s chair to his bedroom and helped him to bed. Then he pulled a piece of paper from his pocket.
“We have a visitor this morning,” he said. “Matahari. Or I assume it’s Matahari, since she brought a letter from Clarridge. She’s in the kitchen nibbling bacon, giving Moros and Athene dirty looks when they get too close, pretending to be some other sort of owl–“
“Smallish, with pointy tufts of feathers on her head?”
Harry nodded.
“Long-eared owl. Matahari often takes that form.”
“Right,” Harry said, realising that he’d inadvertently got Lupin onto one of his favourite subjects. “Anyway, Clarridge wrote that he got the portkey, and will come by today around ten thirty. Will that be okay for you Remus? Do you think you’ll be feeling better”
“Of course.”
Lupin doubted he would be. He would probably be too exhausted to get out of bed. But Clarridge wanted to see his cousin and Lupin didn’t want to stop him. Lupin also suspected that Snape would react better to a visit from his cousin than his former student, but perhaps if Clarridge’s visit was tolerable, Lupin would invite Wormwood next.
This is a work of fan fiction. The world and all recognisable characters belong to J.K. Rowling and I make no claim or profit etc
Romania
It was a sleepless night for Lupin. Every half hour or so, Snape had a nightmare and would begin speaking, crying or screaming. Most of the nightmares seemed to involve his childhood, and Lupin was able to calm him, sometimes with Grimmy’s help, by reassuring him that his father was not coming for him. Sometimes Snape wanted his mother, but mostly he wanted to know she wasn’t there either. Lupin was struck by the chilling thought that, of all the children he had known, the child Snape was the only one to have been reassured by the promise that his parents were not there, were not coming for him.
Just before sunrise, Lupin’s body finally rebelled at the lack of sleep with yet another post-Cruciatus attack. He remained in the chair as long as possible, before attempting to move himself to Harry’s bed. As he collapsed to the floor in a tangle of long limbs, he realised that he had left it too late. He began to convulse, sensing Grimmy standing over him, barking to alert Andromeda and Harry that he was in trouble. He groaned as he remembered the muffling charms placed on the room to stop Snape’s nightmares waking Teddy.
For a time that felt like eternity, Lupin was aware of nothing but pain and some occasional distant screams, which he knew were his own. Eventually he felt the attack abating and became vaguely aware of Snape leaning over him. He blinked his eye, trying desperately to focus on the face hovering above. Then he felt hands sliding under his body, lifting him from the floor and carrying him gently to a bed which didn’t smell like his own.
“Lupin? Lupin? What’s the matter? What happened to you?”
Lupin moaned, not coherent enough to speak. He felt a hand slip behind his neck and gently lift his head. He sipped the water that was held to his lips then lay back, the room swimming around him. Snape leaned over him, his face concerned.
“What happened, Lupin?” he asked gently.
Lupin gave a soft sigh.
“Post-Cruciatus,” he said in a weak voice.
Snape’s brow creased.
“Merlin, what happened to you in Romania?”
Lupin blinked. Romania? What was Snape talking about? He hadn’t been in Romania for years, not since the start of the second war. He stared up at Snape, who looked confused and ill, and suddenly the fuzziness in his mind cleared. Lupin realised that Snape’s mind had wandered into yet another chapter of his past. They had been lean years for Lupin, few friends, sporadic employment, no enemy to make a werewolf seem like a lesser evil. He had taken on whatever work he could, including dangerous missions in search of obscure potion ingredients and other rarities. Romania was one of the locations he visited more frequently, becoming fluent in the language to better negotiate for whatever obscure items his colleagues sought. Lupin had been surprised when Snape came to him as a customer, but was nothing if not pragmatic. Dumbledore trusted him, and his gold was as good as anyone else’s.
“Did you have trouble with the vampires Lupin?” Snape asked.
Lupin shook his head, regretting it immediately as it the room began to move again.
“No trouble at all, Severus. They really are quite charming once you get to know them.”
“Charming? Vampires?”
Lupin gave a slight smile. It was true, the vampires really had been quite charming once they realised that Lupin was neither a threat nor a meal. It had taken a while to reach that point, but he had come to enjoy his visits to the remote Transylvanian mountains. He tried pushing himself up into a seated position, and suddenly Snape was there helping him again.
“Then what did happen, Lupin?”
The werewolf paused for a moment, considering whether to play along or set Snape straight. He’d tried both, but had had more success with Snape, and with Harry before him, by playing along. He recalled those days of uneasy détente between himself and Snape, and responded in a polite but firm voice which invited no enquiry.
“It’s not your concern, Severus,” Lupin replied. “I appreciate your kindness very much, but I’m not prepared to discuss the other aspects of my trip.”
Snape nodded. He had always respected Lupin’s discretion in obtaining ingredients that he didn’t always want others to know he had. He had given the same discretion when Lupin requested unusual potions from him, such as those for purging muggle medications from the bodies of the wizards he and Clarridge rescued. Lupin wondered whether the Snape from those days would have lifted him off the floor and put him to bed if he found him writhing in pain on the floor of his tiny cottage. Perhaps, Lupin thought. The man’s behaviour was at times surprising. But concern would not have been visible on his face. The Snape from those days was unreadable, the only emotions he ever expressed to Lupin were hostility and disgust. The Snape who knelt beside Lupin now was utterly transparent, his shields shredded and his emotions fragile.
Suddenly there was a click of the door handle, and both men turned, vigilant. Harry stepped into the room, his eyebrows drawing together as he noticed the unexpected role reversal, with Lupin lying in bed, Snape kneeling beside him.
Snape’s face drained of all colour, as if he had seen a ghost.
“Potter,” he whispered, scrambling back against the wall, eyes magnified with fear.
Lupin realised that Snape really had seen a ghost. He was seeing James Potter walk through the door years after the man had been killed. Lupin spoke quickly.
“Severus, do you know Martin Potter? He’s a cousin of James – he only started Hogwarts when we were finishing so you probably didn’t meet him.”
Snape relaxed visibly, immediately accepting Lupin’s story of the non-existent Martin Potter. Harry stood looking at Lupin for cues. He’d got used to the way that Lupin managed Snape’s confusion and followed Lupin’s cues to play along when needed.
“Martin’s also interested to see how I got on in Romania.”
Snape looked at Harry curiously.
“You don’t need to know Severus,” Lupin said sharply, “and you can forget you ever saw him here.” Lupin turned to Harry. “It’s quite alright, Severus knows how to keep his mouth shut, as I’m sure you do too.”
“If this is a bad time, Remus, I can come back,” Harry said.
“That would be most helpful Martin, tomorrow would be better, but I won’t keep you in suspense. The answer’s yes, I do have what you were after.”
Harry backed out of the room, and waited just outside, removing the muffling charms so he could listen. He heard Lupin’s voice, calm and soothing, and eventually the door clicked open and he saw Snape in bed asleep and a clearly exhausted Lupin back in his chair.
“What was that all about?” Harry asked quietly.
“Another memory, I used to travel to Romania sometimes to get potion ingredients for Snape. For some reason, he thought I’d just been on a trip.”
“Why Romania? And what were you doing getting potion ingredients for Snape?”
Lupin sighed, too tired to explain.
“Vampires mostly. And he paid me for it. I had to eat somehow.”
Harry suddenly seem to remember what was going on.
“Remus, what happened before? You look awful.”
“I got tired. I had a Post-Cruciatus attack. I must have woken Severus, and he looked after me, but he was… confused again.”
“Oh Remus, I’m sorry, I should have never left you to stay with him overnight.”
“It’s okay Harry, it might have happened anyway. It’s over now, I’ll go to bed and get some sleep if that’s okay.”
“Of course, I’ll take you.”
Harry moved Lupin’s chair to his bedroom and helped him to bed. Then he pulled a piece of paper from his pocket.
“We have a visitor this morning,” he said. “Matahari. Or I assume it’s Matahari, since she brought a letter from Clarridge. She’s in the kitchen nibbling bacon, giving Moros and Athene dirty looks when they get too close, pretending to be some other sort of owl–“
“Smallish, with pointy tufts of feathers on her head?”
Harry nodded.
“Long-eared owl. Matahari often takes that form.”
“Right,” Harry said, realising that he’d inadvertently got Lupin onto one of his favourite subjects. “Anyway, Clarridge wrote that he got the portkey, and will come by today around ten thirty. Will that be okay for you Remus? Do you think you’ll be feeling better”
“Of course.”
Lupin doubted he would be. He would probably be too exhausted to get out of bed. But Clarridge wanted to see his cousin and Lupin didn’t want to stop him. Lupin also suspected that Snape would react better to a visit from his cousin than his former student, but perhaps if Clarridge’s visit was tolerable, Lupin would invite Wormwood next.