Parting Ways
by Morgan D.

It felt nice.

The armchair was cosy, the pillow supporting his neck was soft. His feet were warm in the cotton socks, his legs were relaxed on the short wooden stool. Somewhere downstairs a gentle female voice was singing. It all felt so nice, it would have been a pity if he had to move or do something.

So he didn't. He stayed there, gazing lazily at the funny patterns formed by the stains on the ceiling. There, there was an eagle. On the other corner, a vase of geraniums. Right above his head, a house, and the round blotch close to it could be a shiny sun.

He felt really, really nice.

An amiable face surrounded by bright red hair leaned over him. "Remus? I brought you your potion."

He smiled up at the woman. "Thanks, Molly." He heard the tinkling of china as a tea tray was placed on a small table at his right elbow. It sounded like angels giggling at some funny secret only they knew. "You're so thoughtful."

"Don't mention it," she grinned.

About two feet to the right of the geraniums, something like a Sneakoscope, a bit bent on the top... or maybe that was a mermaid dancing?

"You'd better drink it right away, you know."

"Of course," he said, shifting in the armchair to look at the tray. "Oh, tea and cake! Excellent!" He was hungry, and Molly's cooking was delicious.

Her hand held his before he could touch the plate. "Ah... sorry, Remus. This is not for you."

"You remember you shouldn't eat anything with the potion, don't you?" asked a deep male voice to his left.

Remus saw a handsome face framed in glossy black hair beaming gently down at him. "Severus, my friend..."

"The potion works better on an empty stomach. You can eat in a couple of hours."

"But..." Molly glanced at the clock on the mantel. "There're just forty minutes before..."

Such a beautiful clock, Remus thought. Clocks were such pretty, delicate objects.

"Then he'll have to wait until morning," Snape said.

"That's okay," Remus nodded. "I'm not hungry now." He went back to studying the ceiling, happy he wouldn't have to interrupt such a joyful pastime for less interesting things, like eating. The voices around him were distant murmurs in the back of his mind, pleasant but unimportant.

"No offence, Professor Snape, but are you sure about this?"

"I do not understand your question."

"These past few days... oh, just look at him! He wasn't like this last week."

Maybe there was a clock drawn in one of those stains? That one near the window, perhaps?

"These symptoms were expected."

"He looked normal until he started drinking the Wolfsbane six nights ago..."

"Normal?"

"Well... close to it."

Nah, that one looked more like a Snitch, didn't it? A tiny Snitch soaring to the skies...

"The wolfsbane is reacting with some of the ingredients of the... other potion. Enhancing its effects."

"Enhancing them a bit too much, don't you think?"

"Do not concern yourself with his health, Mrs Weasley. He's perfectly all right."

Yes, he was. Remus was perfectly well, feeling so perfectly light and comfortable. He closed his eyes for a moment, savouring the peace of the universe, the brightness of life. Nice.

"Thank goodness this morning's was the last dosage of that one," she sighed. "So after tonight..."

"The Headmaster thinks wise to continue with the treatment for a few months more."

"A few...? But Professor..."

"Like I said, you should not concern yourself with it."

"Dumbledore is not a Healer..."

"Neither are you."

"Or you, Professor. Maybe in St Mungo's..."

"Lupin is not ill. The potion you've been giving him only makes sure he doesn't become so. The Headmaster has Lupin's best interests at heart."

"I know, but..."

Silence was delightful. All Remus had to do was stick his fingers in his ears, and he was safe in the arms of tranquillity. Breathing felt so good.

Small things. Small pleasures. Why would anyone want more? There was so much bliss in the quiet darkness, in just being there...

A quick squeeze on his arm, pulling one of his hands away from his head. "Lupin."

Remus opened his eyes, glad that he could see again. Good old Severus was sitting in a chair across the table, helping himself to the small slice of cake. "How are you, Severus?"

"We are alone now."

Looking around, Remus verified that the two of them were indeed alone in the room. The door was closed.

"Annoying woman," Severus was saying. "Insisted I should have tea and keep you company for a while."

"Who?"

"Molly Weasley." One of Severus' dark eyebrows arched in a very cool way. "Do you even remember her?"

"Molly..." Remus nodded with a broad smile. "She is wonderful, isn't she?"

"Her stupidity is alarming."

He nodded again. Severus was so clever. And he made weird faces while eating cake too. It was funny to watch him.

"However, for once stupidity favours us," Severus went on, filling his cup halfway with steaming tea. "For once, having tea with you might actually prove to be worthwhile."

It was always great talking to Severus. He was great company.

"She didn't even think there was anything odd when I accepted her suggestion," the potions master sighed. "Why Dumbledore would want such featherbrains in the Order is beyond me."

"Dumbledore has come to visit me almost every day," Remus told him. "Nice of him."

"Cautious of him," Severus rectified. "If he suspects something, he knows you'll be involved. And knows this is when it happens. Tonight."

"It'll be a beautiful night..."

"It'll be an interesting night," the other smirked, sipping his tea. "And tomorrow, an interesting day. To some of us, that is. Put this under your tongue."

Severus was offering him a tiny square box of chipped copper, the lid open to reveal an oval pill of translucent yellow. "Thanks."

"Don't swallow it."

Lemony savour. Acid. Tasty. "I love sweets."

"Sweets," Severus snorted. "Right. Just keep it under your tongue, will you?"

Remus did.

The nose of the potions master twitched as he glared at the half-eaten slice of cake before him. "And I guess I have to finish this disgusting cake. We don't want you to eat it and ruin the whole scheme, do we?"

"No, we surely don't." He didn't even like cake anyway.

"Dumbledore wanted very much to come. I told him it wouldn't be necessary. That I would bring you the potion, make sure everything is fine."

Remus grinned, thinking of the Headmaster's enormous kindness.

"Too bad you're not up to appreciating the irony in this, Lupin."

"Irony?"

"Yes," Severus smirked. "You see, Dumbledore indeed trusts me."

"Of course he does."

"Of course."

The sleeves of Severus' black robes had so many buttons. All tiny and black, almost invisible against the fabric. Like beetles marching up his arms.

"Still, I dared not take too many chances. Your potions had to be prepared by the book. You can never tell whether the man is keeping an eye on you or not. Hogwarts is his domain, and one can't be too cautious while stepping into it. You will remember this, won't you, Lupin?"

Remus wondered how long it took to button up those sleeves. How many buttons were there? One... two... three... four... five... six...

"It is possible, of course, that he knows what's about to come already," Severus continued. "And maybe he'll decide it's not worth his concern. I don't claim to know what goes through that erratic mind of his. Whatever his stratagem is, though..."

...eleven... twelve... thirteen...

"Make no mistake, Lupin, I'm not doing this for you. For any of you."

...nineteen... oh my, there were buttons around the armholes too... twenty... twenty-one... twenty-two...

"The one who serves one master alone will never have as many options as those who can be more... open about their loyalties. I do not wish to be defined. Why would I want to see myself constrained to one narrow path, if I can have the infinite?"

There was a silver pin on the collar... the Slytherin crest... should he count that as well?

"Lupin, do you like dogs?"

Remus jolted in his armchair. "What?"

"Dogs. Do you like dogs?"

The sweet under his tongue was getting... sour. "Cats are more interesting. And Kneazles. They make great pets."

"Yes, very loyal, Kneazles are," Severus hissed. "Like dogs."

Distractedly, Remus massaged his neck, suddenly aware of his stiff muscles. "Crups. Crups are very loyal. Only they tend to attack any Muggles they come across..."

"On the other hand, it's easy to disguise them. Since they look a lot like dogs."

Had someone lit the fireplace? The room was becoming just a little bit too hot... "I wouldn't want a pet that might attack others. I can take care of myself, I don't need a..."

"...guard dog?"

"May I spit this out?" That little pill tasted like rotten eggs...

"Keep it there."

Remus bit his lip, willing himself not to retch.

"What do you think of dogs, Lupin?"

"I don't know..."

"I think dogs are rather ridiculous beasts."

"Are they?"

"Amazingly inane."

"But..."

"Have you ever seen a dog chasing its own tail, Lupin?"

Remus felt a bit of stinging under his eyelids, a sensation that was distantly familiar somehow. "No..."

"Pathetic creatures, think themselves funny."

They were funny...

"In fact, they're nothing but wretched, preposterous beasts."

...scaring off pigeons and cats for a boy's amusement...

"Filthy fur balls."

...unkempt hair falling over pale blue eyes...

"Loud and irritating."

...singing carols throughout Christmas day...

"Vile and depressing."

...staring bitterly at a tattered, heinous tapestry...

"And abominably ugly."

"Not as ugly as that big, crooked nose of yours!"

Remus flinched, for a moment unable to tell where the low, menacing growl had come from. When he heard Severus' dry laugh, his eyes widened in understanding.

"Not at all your usual polish, Lupin. Too long with the mutt, you've started barking just as piteously. But it's a start. Can you still feel the pill under your tongue?"

Remus shook his head, absently. His stomach twisted in revulsion at the repugnant taste that lingered on his palate.

Severus gestured to the forgotten goblet on the tea tray. "Wash your mouth with this then."

Goblet. Thick brownish liquid, smoking ominously. So familiar. Molly had brought it. Better drink it right away... "Wolfsbane."

"Yes."

The moon. Tonight. Interesting night... "Tastes awful."

"Maybe this will help."

Remus saw Severus toying with the spoon in the sugar pot for a moment, before pushing it toward him.

His back ached against the hard armchair. Sweat ran down his temples, but his feet were cold. His legs were numb. And whose was that shrieking voice chanting downstairs?

Where was the beautiful silence, the welcoming darkness, the joyous tranquillity of a moment ago? When had the air become so thick and stale? When had Severus' hair become so greasy, his face so hostile?

Sugar the pill. That made sense, didn't it?

The small spoon was shaking between his fingers, why so? He almost didn't manage to pour the soothing white powder into the goblet.

The liquid turned thinner, and cerise-red. It stopped smoking.

He took the vessel in his hands, wincing at the heat burning his cold fingers. He held his breath, fearing the beverage's odour. The potion somehow failed to assuage the dryness of his lips as he drank it down in quick, hurtful gulps.

Severus was already on his feet when Remus put down the goblet. "The matter is in your hands now, Lupin. When we see each other again, we might still remember. I hope you'll know how to behave then."

"You can't leave," Remus whispered. The walls were closing on him, high and dirty. The floor wavered, the lights flickered. Goosebumps covered his arms.

"I most certainly can't stay." Severus pulled out his wand, twirling it in a complex motion before tipping its end on the goblet's base, murmuring a spell under his breath. The empty vessel jounced madly for a second, emitting a frigid blue gleam, then lay quietly on the table. "It's almost time."

The clock, that horrible, atrocious clock, its devious arms moving fast, so fast, too fast... "The moon..."

"So long, Lupin."

The door screeched closed before Remus could say another word. He heard Severus' voice muttering several Locking Charms, felt the bristling presence of powerful magic cooping him up inside the room, and trembled as the noise of footsteps on the creaking wood faded away into nothing.

Caged.

Number 12, Grimmauld Place. The very same old room where he had been locked up during every full moon night since the house had been turned into the Order's headquarters. Locked up merely as a precautionary measure, since Remus hadn't been left without his regular doses of the potion that would keep the mind of the dark beast from taking over his. Locked up because Remus himself had asked for such precautions, unwilling to take any risks. For the potion incarcerated the wolf, but it was incapable of silencing its bloodthirsty roar in Remus' heart.

He felt it squirming already, fidgeting in its troubled sleep. It could sense the moonlight approaching to beam over its face, enticing its eyelids to open and tempting it with promises of a rousing hunt, of luscious blood and raw, living flesh. It knew, just as well as Remus knew his own name, that it was time to wake up.

But Remus hadn't been aware of it before a minute ago. He had been blind and deaf to the wolf's existence, he had been absolutely oblivious to the moon's changing, he had been... asleep.

No. Not asleep.

Numb.

And now he was awake, just moments before the wolf's rise, just in time to see his own body being torn and deformed by the excruciating Change, without being given nearly enough time to prepare his spirit for the inescapable agony.

But apart from that... he was safe, wasn't he? He had drunk the Wolfsbane potion. He had...

His mind leapt back to Hogwarts. His small office. A knock on the door. Severus, carrying a smoking goblet. A thirteen-year-old kid with glasses and unruly black hair. Eyeing the goblet. Suspiciously. The beverage's dreadful odour foreshadowing the dreadful taste.

Useless.

"No."

Remus stared at the empty goblet, the one stationary object in his mind's eye as a pain-racked vertigo spun the decayed room around him. Words, images, sounds and scents exploded in his head, as suppressed memories found their way to freedom. This soiled, decrepit house, and the pulsating moon ascending to its glory and his doom... and the clangourous shrieking — how could he have possibly mistaken that for gentle singing? — of that accursed portrait cursing her heir for all eternity... "Abomination! Blood traitor! Putrid scum, dishonouring my flesh and house!"

Why wouldn't that damn woman just shut up? What was the point of screaming now? Hadn't anyone told her? Didn't she know that the only son she had left was...?

"No."

Numbness, sweet, merciful numbness, please come back, please come back, please...

But the blissful shroud of forgetfulness that had protected his mind for the last three weeks had been snatched away by the acrid pill Severus had made him take in his mouth. Remus could now remember the poppy-scented potion Molly had made him drink every morning of the last nineteen days... and the life-saving potion that brought the refreshing emptiness that had blurred his thoughts and quenched his bleeding heart since that night in the Ministry when...

"No."

The wolf was twitching. Remus' limbs quivered. The beast was sufficiently close to consciousness to sense its human counterpart's anguish, and a fearful growl clenched Remus' throat. Even in this half-dormant state, the wolf was already calling for its packmate.

The wolf, however, would wake up alone. And alone he would remain. For the rest of its days.

He had seen him come back once. After almost thirteen years of wretched solitude, he had seen him come back from the foulest realms of Hell. Only to see him being taken away once more.

Remus opened his mouth to say his beloved friend's name, but no sound would come out. His lips trembled at the salty taste of the thick, copious tears he hadn't noticed before, the first tears he had been allowed since losing Sirius to that blasted veil. He was too tired to sob, too tired to scream, too tired to be alive.

The wolf, unrestrained and rabid with grief, would rip them both into pieces tonight.

For all their ferocity, werewolves had little sense of self-preservation. They attacked humans out of their insatiable appetite for that particular species; when in anger, pain or frustration, they turned against themselves. The deeper the distress, the more violently they slashed their own flesh with their deadly claws and fangs, the more blood they would drink from their own veins. And Severus had to know that, since he had once, back when Remus was still teaching at Hogwarts, made a venomous joke about how the wolf had come half an inch from killing itself the first full moon night after the Potters were murdered and Sirius arrested. This time... ah, this time would be so much worse.

If only Severus had simply poured that goblet of Wolfsbane potion down the drain... It would have been just like that night of June, 1994, when missing the last dosage had nullified the effect of the potion entirely. The combination with glucose, on the other hand, would not only sabotage the effort to put the human mind in control, but also allow the wolf's mind to tap into the human's memories. Normally, the wolf would be infected by Remus' mood at the time of the Change, reacting much more violently if its human counterpart was in distress. This time, the beast would also know the cause of Remus' distress as well. It would know that Padfoot was no more.

So this was Severus' final revenge upon him? By feeding him to the dark demon inside him? By dispatching him to the same destiny Sirius had almost sent Severus to, about twenty years ago?

By sending him to death now, when Remus could only welcome it?

Was that vengeance or a blessing?

Remus sat back in his armchair, for the first time in his life wishing the moon would hurry. His fingers idly brushed the surface of the table beside him as he thought of Harry, another poor soul that seemed destined to be left behind time and again. Why had he stopped the kid from running after his godfather? Where had he got that nauseating concept that life is worth all this unbearable misery?

Thank goodness he hadn't tried to get closer to James' child in the past years. This way he could die without fear of causing Harry even more pain.

This was Remus' last conscious thought before his fingers casually touched the empty goblet and he was surprised by the unmistakable sensation of being hauled in the air by a hook behind his navel. Severus' Portkey led Remus Lupin to his fate.