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Severus sat in his room, a book in his hands.  It was late, and the entire castle was silent.  Not including the tapping on his door.  He ignored it for as long as he could, but it only got louder.  He took off his reading glasses and closed the book, glaring angrily at the door as he stood.  “Blasted people don’t know when to sleep.” he muttered to himself even as he opened the door.

An eyebrow arched in mild surprise at the sight before him.  Lupin stood at the door, one hand raised mid-tap, the other wrapped around the neck of a bottle.  “Ah, Snipe!”  Remus frowned.  “Snoop?”  He scratched his head.

Severus glared, dragging the plastered wolf into the room and shutting the door behind him.  “It’s Snape, you blubbering idiot,” he snapped, pushing Lupin onto the couch with a shove.  The bottle threatened to slip through the man’s fingers, but Severus grabbed it, sneaking a glance at the label.  “Elf made,” he said, moving to get a glass for himself.  “Just how did you afford this, Lupin?”

Remus struggled to remember.  Finally he said, “I don’t know.”

Severus sat down, watching the wolf carefully and sipping his glass slowly.  A few moments later and already his mind was swimming.  “Enchanted?” he asked softly as he stared at the empty glass.  He couldn’t have been tipsy.  A sound made him look up again.  Remus was staring at him.  As Severus watched, Remus licked his lips.

Remus moved toward Severus, sliding on the couch almost imperceptibly.  “Severus?”  Severus’ foggy mind failed to catch the use of his first name.  When no response came, asked, “That’s not normal wine is it?”  Remus had dropped to his knees by the couch.  “They do not love that do not show their love,” he began, voice low and husky.  “The course of true love never did run smooth.”

Remus had reached Severus and he looked up, a questioning look in his eyes.  Severus returned the look as he spoke, his lips seeming to move on their own.  “Love is a familiar. Love is a devil. There is no evil angel but Love.”  He stared down at the wolf.  “Shakespeare,” he murmured.  Suddenly, he reached forward, grabbing the other man’s robes and pulling him up into a bruising kiss.  Remus let out a soft growl as he wrapped his arms around the Slytherin.  They stood up together, hands clutching and trying to rip robes off all at the same time.  They moved to the bedroom door, shutting it behind them.


Dumbledore smiled to himself as he sat in his office.  “And since you cannot see yourself, so well as by reflection,” he said softly, twirling the identical bottle of wine on his desk.  “I, your glass, will modestly discover to yourself, that of yourself which you yet know not of.”  He let out a small chuckle before setting the bottle down and leaning forward, blowing the candle out and drenching the office in darkness.
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Submitted on
May 6, 2008
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