InsaneJournal

All the Way Home, I'll Be Warm

                Remus stared at the address on the parchment, and then looked up at the dilapidated, Muggle area. He looked at the parchment again. This was definitely the right street. He sighed and headed toward the house. No sense in freezing.

                He knocked on the door tentatively. He was told the inhabitant would be injured, needing some help getting around in exchange for giving Remus a place to stay temporarily while his house was being fixed. Remus, however, did not know the individual—or at least he thought he hadn't. Sometimes, not knowing an individual was a good thing.

It wasn't hard to look at anonymity, the safety of a stranger, in a good light, because he was having troubles with his friends. Serious trust issues. Sirius trust issues. Sirius didn't trust him, and, frankly, he didn't trust Sirius. Someone was telling James's secrets to the dark lord Voldemort! It was serious. It was . . . was it Sirius? And it didn't matter, though, who it was, did it? It could even be Peter, really, but the important thing was that the Potters be safe. Imagine finding Lily and James covered in blood, baby Harry mangled among the corpses, or, worse, taken over by the Dark Lord as some sort of pet.

                Ignoring the cutting apprehension he sometimes felt for the safety of the Potters, he went on enjoying the feeling of a new start. He slid the key into the lock and opened the door, the light from the wintry scene of the trashy street pouring into a surprisingly dank living area. But the droves and droves of books lining the walls in orderly shelves made him feel rather optimistic. That is, until he finally found who it was Dumbledore wanted him taking care of.

                "Snape?!" He slammed the door to the bedroom shut again on the sight. Snape had been sleeping anyway. His heart pounded. He hadn't been this close to Severus Snape since he was in wolf form. He felt ill. He started a fire in the grate and conjured a blanket, sitting down on the couch with a frown as he looked around. Better this or Sirius? He didn't know. He really didn't know.

                The next morning, the sun shone weakly into the room from a crack in the curtains. Remus sniffed, scenting some tea. Indeed, there was a pot and an empty cup on the table. He listened to the sound of slow footsteps heading toward the guest room Snape had been sleeping in, staying still, waiting until he heard the door close to get up. Starting some toast, he heard the sound of running water, which gave him pause.

Was it safe for Snape to be in the shower? He'd heard the man he was going to stay with was going to be rather low in his health, and from what Remus could observe, that seemed to hold true. Never let it be said Severus Snape could not handle an amazing amount of adversity, especially physically, but, really, even he had his limits, surely.

When Severus did not come out of the bath after an hour, Remus knew he had to take up his wand and burst in on him. He winced, unlocking the door to the room, and then moved toward the bathroom door. With a sigh and another wave of his wand, he was in.

His fears were confirmed as he looked through the frosted glass to see a figure lying on the ground as if unconscious. Opening the door to the shower with a wave of his wand, his eyes widened at the small, diluted puddle of blood under Snape's head. He leaned in to turn off the water, staring at the man. "Snape?" he called, receiving no answer. Right, then.

He levitated the naked man, cleaning the hair and the head as best he could with cleansing spells, and then healing the cut. He conjured a small bag of ice and held it on the bump. There was a bit of blood on the wall of the shower and Remus snarled at it as he cast a cleaning spell its way too.

"Very intelligent," said Remus when he saw Snape's eyes open for the first time. "How on earth did you ever get such a clever idea as to shower by yourself when you can hardly walk?"

Snape didn't say anything, merely looked blearily back at Remus, pulling the blankets tighter around himself.

Unable to yell at him anymore, Remus sighed. He'd spent the last few hours before Snape's revival considering what it would have been like had Snape died while he was in the house. He didn't even want to consider how bad that would have looked for him, a werewolf who had a history with Snape, to have been in the house at the time.

"Yeah, well . . . you just think about that the next time you feel like getting up." He moved over to the bed he had transfigured from a chair. "This is my bed for the time being. You don't like it, you can tell it to Dumbledore." Without further ado, he curled up in the covers.

Snape lay awake even after Lupin's soft snores could be heard. True he was sick and had lost consciousness in the shower—and had acquired a painful throbbing in his head besides—but did that mean he had to be grateful for Lupin's sudden urge to play the hero? Been lying pretty well dormant during school, that urge, hadn't it been?

He rolled his eyes and leaned over to grab his wand from the bedside table, the effort leaving him panting. He waved his wand at the door to open it, Summoning a tin of chocolate biscuits. After some effort, he managed to get the damned thing open and began to snack, knowing chocolate would help him feel a bit better, especially after the horrid taste of the medicine he was having to force down his own throat.

That was how Remus found him, quirking his lip to see it. Severus Snape was asleep, curled up in the blanket, surrounded by biscuit crumbs (and chocolate ones to boot). He shook his head softly, closing the tin, and brought it back out into the kitchen. Searching for ingredients, he made a note to go to the market, but he'd make do with what he had. He concocted some sort of a vegetable soup almost lazily before going in to check on the still-sleeping form.

Severus awoke to a bowl of soup being shoved in his face.

"Sit up," called Remus. Slightly bewildered, Snape did so, and Remus handed him the soup. "No thanks necessary, just don't repeat last night's episode."

"Are you offering to bathe me, then?" said Snape with a raised brow.

Lupin flinched.

"No?"

"No."

"Then leave me be."

"Not that I wouldn't want to, you know."

"What?" Snape's brow quirked as he slurped a spoonful of soup.

"Er . . . ."

"Intelligent as ever." At least the werewolf could cook.

"What are you doing?! Unhand me!"

"Make me, without your wand."

"Lupin, what is this?" demanded Severus as he was floated into the bathroom.

"I'm bathing you. Your suggestion."

Snape was stunned into a silence.

"It won't take long. Just relax and," he stripped Snape with a nonverbal spell, lowering him into the empty tub, "enjoy. Key word: enjoy."

"Does this sound enjoyable to you?" he sneered at the werewolf, still unable to move.

"Yes, actually. Come on, Snape, why do you think Dumbledore sent me to your place in the loneliest season of the year?"

"To 'take care of me,'" he sneered. "And this is not helping me, I can assure you."

"Don't be so certain," said Remus with a soft smile. "Surely I'm a man and you're a man, correct?"

"Did the prick not assure you of that already?" mocked Snape.

"A man has needs, correct?"

Snape, released from the spell now, crossed his arms instead of trying to get out of the tub Remus had transfigured from his shower. He did not move yet, feeling the water start to fill the tub, only about a few inches' worth so far.

"Don't worry," said Remus reassuringly. "See, I'll take care of you and your needs. All your needs. Don't think about who we are to each other, you know? Two brooms passing in the night and all that."

                Snape seemed to actually be considering it.

                "Let me help my argument," said Remus, adding bubbles to the tub with his wand hand while the other hand reached down to stroke fingers gently over Snape's tight, thin stomach and the head of his not-so-thin prick.

                "Alright, fine," said Snape after a quiet moment. All was silent again as Remus merely smiled.

                "He seems to be well again, Albus," said Remus as Dumbledore evaluated Snape.

                "Yes, I would have to agree. I am sorry, Severus, for not giving you proper warning. You survived it, yes, but it all seems rather intimate for an independent man such as yourself."

                Remus started laughing softly at the man's word-choice, picturing Snape masturbating. Catching his eye, Snape caught the image and fought back a laugh of his own.

                "Did I say something?"

                "It's nothing, Albus," said Snape with a smirk. "I'm ready to return to the school, though, yes. Shall we? You can find your way out, no doubt, Lupin."

                "I'm sure I can, Severus."

                "Of all the dunderheads you could have chosen, Albus," Remus heard Severus saying as they moved into the next room, "I suppose I should be grateful that you chose the most competent. Not that that's saying much."

                "O Severus," said Dumbledore with a twinkle in his eye, "I'm sure you must be feeling something other than gratitude."

                The snow was cold again, but as Remus made his way back to his place, he knew he'd at least made some sort of peace with Snape, if mainly fueled by sex. He'd take what he got from life. He thought of the handful of memories he'd made at Snape's house, instead of dwelling on the marauders and the perfect life that had now left all of them, and Lily too. If he was to virtually join them, to be the walking dead like they all were nowadays and eventually all would be dead quite literally, his fucking around with Death Eater spies really wasn't too bad of an idea.