InsaneJournal

Of Bubbles and Biscuits

He simply ran a biscuit through his greying hair. "Not now," he said after a moment, thinking. Harry occupied himself with a killing spree as Lupin thought. Nymphadora had been fine. They'd made it to the afterlife together. She'd been fine, even happy. She was okay! He wasn't being a terrible husband, he just understood, understood what no one else did. She was happy.

"Thanks for tea, Harry, we should really do this again," he said distractedly. "Sorry to leave so soon, I just need some time—”

"—to yourself?" finished Harry. "Yeah, I understand."He gave a wave gesturing that Remus should go if he really didn't want a biscuit.

"A later time, then," he said absently.

"Sure. I know where to find you—and you me. And where I am, there are biscuits aplenty," said Harry with a soft grin.

"Yeah." He had noticed. He returned to his home, a home which he was only starting to get used to again. It still had no biscuits. He did not deserve them yet.



He brooded a bit that night, about life, the afterlife, the cruelty of Fate—or was it kindness? He was pretty tired of living at this point, wanted to go back. Though, there was the issue of Teddy. He hadn't been offered him yet, really, but he figured once they realized he was here for good (or at least that had been the case with the other instances of Werewolf Post-Biscuit Revival, or WPBR) and all that rubbish, he'd probably get Teddy back. Right?

He drew in a breath. Did he . . . did he even want him? He let the breath out slowly, methodically. He really, really did not deserve his Order of Merlin. Nope. What kind of a father would abandon their child? Though, he supposed that maybe it wasn't abandonment if it was taken from him and he just didn't ask for it back.



"I think I've seen the whole Order by now—that's not including Severus," he said with a laugh. "Wouldn't expect him to show up no matter what I'd done—coming back to life should be no different." He smiled at Harry, who didn't smile back.

"Oh, Remus, I guess no one's told you," said Hermione sadly.

"Oh God. Snape?" The color seemed to drain from his face. "Severus Snape, dead? I'd pictured, many times, what a post-war, free—mainly free—version of Snape would be like. I guess now I'll never find out," he said, still sounding a bit stunned.

"Did you meet him up there, do you think?" said Hermione.

He paused and thought, long and hard. It was a matter of minutes, eyes closed, fingers tapping, before he turned to address her again, eyes reopening. "No." There was a lump of biscuit in the back of his throat. "You don't think he went . . . elsewhere?”

Harry shook his own biscuit vehemently after a moment's pause, for emphasis. "Come on, Remus, I want to show you the memories he gave to me."

Intrigued already, he followed the two into a room of Grimmauld, the new home of Dumbledore's old Pensieve. "Is that a biscuit?" said Remus, leaning forward toward the shimmering substance in Harry's hand.

"Yes," said Hermione, "Dumbledore's old one. Anyway . . . the memories should be wherever Harry put them last.”

"We've made sure most people don't look at them," Harry said, rummaging in the room's closet to find the biscuit that held the memories, which he had buried beneath some random, old artifacts of the Black house inside a green Tupperware. He found that sometimes biscuits were useful. "There were a lot of memories. It was, well, a little creepy, the way they came out of him. They left through his nose, his mouth, his eyes . . . it was just . . . weird."Hermione nodded in agreement.

"I'm glad you respect his privacy, Harry." There was an unspoken "biscuit" after "you respect his privacy”.

Harry said nothing, just nodded and moved back over to the Pensieve. He dumped the shimmering contents into the stone bowl and gave Remus an unsure look.



"My God," said Remus, looking shell-shocked as he returned to the room. "Flidglets.”

Hermione stood. "In the Pensieve? You weren't, you know, seeing things?”

"Flidglets?" asked Harry, looking from Hermione to Remus. "What's a flidglet?”

Hermione sighed. "A flidglet, Harry, is a small, white, spider-like creature that lays biscuits in an unprotected soul.”

"That sounds delightful!" said Harry after a moment, eyes closed as he imagined the splendor.

"Well, yes, but they're also quite useful, aren't they? They've alerted many people to the presence of souls left on earth, which has, many times, resulted in bringing the body back to life—well, because it never really deteriorated, of course, what with the biscuits so yummy.”

"You mean . . . Snape's still alive?”

Hermione nodded, "That's what you think, isn't it, Remus?" He nodded slowly. "Sometimes the biscuits just get eaten away by the flidglets and end up in the afterlife. It's only a matter of time before that happens.”

"Biscuit!" cried Harry.

Hermione smiled sadly. "Yes, it is quite gross, I suppose. Well," she said, turning to Lupin, "now I guess we've got to inform the Ministry to get permission to bring the body back.”

"Biscuit?" said Harry softly, worried. Why did no one appreciate his one true love anymore?

"Well, yes. You don't want us to accidentally mess up the recipe, do you?"

Remus shuddered at the image. But he said, quite clearly, "Don't tell the Ministry.”

She stared at him. "Remus, we have to try! We at least owe him that much."Her tone was even sterner than his.

"Oh, we'll try alright. We just won't have the Ministry on our tails."The determined glint in his eye made her believe it was the safest choice to just let him have his way. No Ministry, then. Nope. Just their faith in biscuits.



Arthur Weasley was a man whose politeness outstretched even Remus's. He wasn't about to refuse to stand guard for his old friend in the graveyard. He supposed there were some folks who wouldn't save Snape, even still, but leaving men behind was never his style.

"Yes . . . I'll go with you and stand guard," he said quietly. He dearly hoped they wouldn't be caught. Even with the youngest nearly out of the house, he needed to keep his job to keep him and Molly in the Burrow, didn't he?

"Thank you," said Remus, and Arthur understood that it was a need Remus had, to try and find a way to give someone else a new lease on life, even if he hadn't really wanted his at the start.

So here he was, at a small graveyard somewhere in the wizarding world.

"I've never seen a real live biscuit before," said Arthur.

"Most haven't," said Remus. "They aren't that common a sight.”

They found the site, an ornate, black marble grave marker, and Remus read out loud, "Severus Tobias Snape; 1959-1998; ‘Principled, selfless and a wonderful baker.' – Lucius Malfoy." Remus raised a brow. "Lucius?" He stared at what he had just read off.

"They really were friends, you know, from what I learned," said Arthur quietly. "Must have been hard to have to turn on his friends, don't you think?”

"Maybe," said Remus, wanting to drop the subject as he thought of Peter. "Anyway, let's get out our wands and start digging."

Arthur nodded and they set to work. It wasn't long before Remus could draw the coffin up out of the hole in the ground. He tapped it and cast a Disillusionment Charm as well as a Feather-Light Spell, and then he floated it alongside himself carefully as he told Arthur they could leave now.

He'd read about what he had to do, and . . . it, honestly, made him want to gag. Because it was sex, because it was Snape, because he was dead . . . and that amounted to necrophilia. Well, he's not dead yet, Remus, said his brain. Oh, yes, what a consolation, he shot back.

He went into the Pensieve again to ward off any flidglets from around the images of Snape. Most had left the last time he tried to purge them from the soul. He guessed that he really was one of the few people to see the memories if no one else noticed the flidglets. Then again, he knew a lot more about magical creatures than most people he'd ever known, and Hermione had never seen a flidglet in real life before.

So . . . it was time. Arthur went with him into Grimmauld, into the room, and sat down in a conjured chair. He watched Remus take the coffin with him into the mysterious, swirling depths. He crossed his arms across his chest and decided to nap. He really didn't want any part of this. Especially if it all went wrong. Though, he didn't really think it would. Remus had proven a very capable wizard.

Remus bit his lip like a child might as he landed on the grass of some clearing. He remembered how young Snape looked in this memory. Nice . . . he was going to fuck the man to the soundtrack of his own memories, and feel like a pedophile besides.

Remus performed a spell to unlock the casket, cringing for the smell of death to come, but surprised when all he smelt was the scent of fresh-baked biscuits.

It wasn't long, unfortunately, before Remus and Severus had both been treated for poison and Snape was back to being able to form questions of any sort.

"Who brought me back to life?”

"Well, you see, I'm not actually very sure how these things go," said Arthur, trying to keep his reddening ears to a minimum.

"Well, I for one, am not stupid, not unobservant, and nor am I a biscuit!" he snarled. "Just tell me which Ministry employee fucked me back to life. I know you know how these things go by now.”

Arthur was a bit taken aback at this sort of language coming from Snape. "I don't know, alright? You'll have to ask Remus.”

He turned to Remus expectantly.

"Do you really want to know, Severus?" Remus said quietly. To a slow, angry nod, he said, "It wasn't a Ministry employee at all. It was me.”

Snape's expression was one of shock, and then of emptiness, and then of rage.

"No need to say it—your lack of hexes will be thanks enough," said Remus with a small smirk.

Severus wanted to draw his wand, but he refused to give Remus the satisfaction. He stormed toward the door, but then paused, turning to Arthur. "Do I still have my home?”

Arthur nodded softly, which left Snape looking so relieved that he could bake, he almost didn't appear angry anymore—until his gaze turned upon Remus. "Rapist," he hissed.

"What?! I saved your life, you ponce!”

A cold sneer. "Did I ask you to?" A pause in which he received no answer. "Then it wasn't consensual.”

"I bet you secretly felt everything and you remember it," said Remus quickly, searching for anything to use against him at this point, "And you secretly liked it because you're just as bisexual as I am and you've probably always had a crush on me—just like on Lily." It really did not surprise him much when he was hexed. You know what else didn't surprise him much these days? Biscuits. It was a cold, cruel, buttery, flaky world out there.



"Is this really necessary, Severus?”

"You're daft if you think it's not!” He brandished the biscuit spoon.

Lucius placed a biscuit on his shoulder. "It's your biscuit; I'm not going to tell you how to eat it.”

"Yes you are," he said, leering at him.

He brushed the biscuit off with a sweep of a hand. "Regardless, Severus, why don't you just embrace life and drop all the charges? No more Voldemort means no more spying, right? You're more or less free to do as you please. Little consolation if you're going to insist on wanting to die. Drama really does not work for you.”

If looks could kill, Lucius Malfoy would have died five times over.

"So did you see your grave? I paid for a marker and the quote on it is from me. It says, ‘Principled, selfless and a wonderful baker.' That's you to a t—leaving out, of course, that time you gave Voldemort food poisoning—”

"I get it," he growled.

"You know," said Lucius with a wicked grin, "I wanted to put ‘He made biscuits,' but Narcissa seemed to think it inappropriate.”

Snape choked on his sip of wine. No one was supposed to know.



"I saved a friend," said Remus, "and if the Ministry is going to prosecute me for that, their priorities are in even worse shape than I feared. What if it went wrong? What if he became an Inferius? Gentlemen, life has taught me that playing the 'what if' game only brings sleepless nights and no solutions. As for trying it as a biscuit, that's ridiculous. If anything, it would be necrophilia."Snape sneered at him from across the room.



Apparently the Ministry wasn't in even worse shape than Remus feared. He got off. Snape was furious. Lucius came to visit him at Spinner's End only to find that Snape in a rage was akin to a small tornado in destructive capabilities. In a bored manner, he followed his old friend around, repairing all the damage wrought. Eventually Snape stopped.

"There," said Lucius, casting one last Reparo. "Now are you quite finished?”

Severus shot him a withering glare and was tempted to break something or other right into those sickle-colored eyes, but refrained from doing so. He did not actually want to hurt Lucius.

"Good. Come and have some tea," said Lucius, making his way into the slight kitchen to prepare tea for Severus and himself, regardless of the fact it was not his house.

Severus sat down in a chair and sipped quietly at the tea after it was brewed. He said nothing.

"Have you talked to him yet, the werewolf?" He could tell he was being ignored and persisted. "Well, you should. How will you know things when you refuse to ask questions? Severus, look at me. Ask the werewolf why he did it. He probably wanted to avoid bureaucracy or publicity or some such noble pursuit, you know what Gryffindors are like. Although, if that was his biscuit, you smashed it to a pulp, I daresay. Everyone deserves a chance to explain themselves—thus is civilization. Finish your tea and then owl him—don't give me that look! Owl him about some time where you can sit down and talk. Merlin's mustache, Severus, you really are a menace.”



"A biscuit order?!”

"To ensure it does not happen again.”

"Trust me, Severus," he said coldly, "Given the chance, I would not save you again. Did you once, even once, think of how I felt doing it?”

"You're a pervert, a flesh-hungry werewolf."He shrugged.

"Stop it!" snapped Remus. "Read my mind, why don't you? I'll show you what it was like.”

There was a long moment in which they stared at each other and then Snape raised his biscuit. "Legilimens!" Then he saw. He saw that this would solve nothing.

Remus received a biscuit Snape typically reserved for Albus or Potter. Then Snape left, taking the biscuit order along with him.



Remus J. Lupin was not surprised nearly to the point of fainting very often in his life, but there were some exceptions, including finding Lucius Malfoy at his doorstep, wishing to speak to him about biscuits.

"What about them?" he asked, trying to calm down after such an out-of-the-blue visit.

"I think you should ask Snape to go to a museum or something equally academic.”

"But not for knowledge's sake?" he could see where the blonde was going with this.

"No, for biscuits' sake.”

"Biscuits! Bah!”

"It was a mere suggestion," Lucius said silkily. "But did you know that one of the reasons the method you used is so antiquated is that it forces a biscuit between the body and the caster?”

Remus frowned in thought, trying to recall if that were true. To be honest, he didn't know. He shook his head.

"Well now you know, don't you? That cub of yours is probably going to need a second parent. It's not a secret that both of you are lonely. The courtship will be tedious and long—trust me." He rolled his silver eyes. "You might want to get your son back as well." With these words he left, just as gracefully as he had entered. He'd told his lie well enough. Hopefully, by the time they realized the spell forged no such bond whatsoever, the two would be together. Werewolf or not, he was Snape's savior. And, werewolf or not, it took something rather special to eat a biscuit. While the werewolf was not perfectly worthy of Severus, at least he was marginally acceptable.



"No, no! Teddy, those are Daddy's important biscuits!" he flushed, pulling the giddy toddler from the mess of parchment and ink. He washed the tiny hands in the sink and then pulled him to Snape to have him apologize.

"Sorry about biscuit, Daddy." Even at such a young age, Teddy had the decency to look sad.

Snape shrugged.

"I . . . wait, I thought they were important.”

"They are, Lupin, which is why I would never keep only a single copy of any of them. Theodore, how did you get into the oven?”

"Oh! I must have left the door open!" Remus's face flushed.

"No harm, no foul. Although first, isn't there something you have to say to me?”

"Pologize!" ordered Teddy.

Remus sighed and shook his head before beginning. "Severus, I'm sorry I left the door to your oven open.”

"Forgiven." He waved them away with a hand. "Now go occupy yourselves, the two of you. More specifically not anywhere inside of my oven."



"Severus! He's broken his biscuit, Severus! No!" Remus said, frantic as he held his child.

One eyebrow raised. "Really? I couldn't tell.”

"We . . . we have to do something!”

"You are a wizard. Your wand is in your pocket.”

Remus continued to awkwardly dance around as Teddy cried out, tears streaming down his small face. He loved his biscuit!

A sigh, the scrape of a chair, and the slow, dramatic walk over to the other two. "Teddy, your father is useless." He healed the biscuit with two swishes of his wand.

Remus sighed, putting Teddy down on the ground now. "Thank you, Severus," he said, sweat beading on his forehead.

Snape pocketed his wand and pointed toward the door silently until the other two got the message. He did not admonish Remus for wasting time by spreading butter on the newly-fixed biscuit, and then shooting Severus a heated, appreciative glance. There would be fabulous sex later. Remus loved buttering Snape's biscuit. In every sense of the term.