Chapter Text
It had taken several turns.
An hour each, time flying backward, Severus hid in the one place in the castle he knew would be unoccupied at those hours: Remus’ room. The map was unfolded, though blank, and Severus approached it cautiously. He held his wand to the parchment, his heart pounding in his chest. “I solemnly swear I am up to no good,” he held himself firm despite the shakiness he felt. Against expectations, the map appeared before him, the Marauders greeting him. It felt like an understanding, almost, a truce in the middle of everything.
Severus peered at the map, tracing his fingers over the lines. Potter, Granger, Weasley – accompanied by Pettigrew.
The four of them, on the map. He could track them. He would be able to find Pettigrew once he escaped, avoid his past self, scoop the man up, and deliver him to the authorities. He found himself on the map, heading for the Whomping Willow, and sighed.
Love was a vicious motivator.
Brushing his fingers over Remus’ name, Severus folded up the map and headed for the door. He stopped in Remus’ office, picking up a cage that had remained from a previous professor, one that would hold a rat, before he continued on his way. There was a mission in his hands and a fury in his heart. Answers lay before him after all these years. Lily Evans had died to someone she had trusted, to someone James Potter had trusted and thought of as a friend. Even if they had not reconciled, he still felt the rage boiling inside of him on her behalf.
The coil of hot shame in his gut that followed could be addressed later. He did not have time to stop.
It did not take long to get into position, waiting just beyond the clearing. The moon rose above him, full and bright, and Severus stared at it. One celestial body that had ruled so much of Remus’ life, wrecked so many opportunities, changed so many good days into bad ones. There was anger inside of him for that, too, for the fact that Remus had never had a chance to live an ordinary life. Bitten as a child, he had never gotten to live as anything but an outcast.
Severus took a deep breath, closing his eyes for a moment. They had earned a great deal of his harshness, but Remus required a touch more understanding.
He had simply gone along with it all.
Was that not exactly what Severus had done? With his housemates, with the Dark Mark, with blending in, practicing Received Pronunciation until his original accent had disappeared? Was that not what he had done when he had split his friendship with Lily apart by calling her a name that had shown the worst side of him?
Fear of being cast out, even amongst those who appeared to accept him.
It was not an instant sort of forgiveness, but it weakened the grudge in his heart. He could hold onto Remus, keep him, and he could love him. Forgiveness could be found over time. Severus might never forgive Black for his role in things, but he could forgive Remus.
He checked the map when he heard movement above him, coming back to readiness in moments.
The crunching of bones and the panicked cries of the students, the shout of Potter’s Expelliarmus! Black’s urging to remain in human form was useless, Severus knew, but it was a kindness. He could hear Remus’ panicked breathing disappear under the gasping growls of the wolf. The silence that followed was ghastly, but he knew what came next. The children would be safe. He had been an idiot, but it had worked. A little-known bit of myth had proven to be truth.
Hearing scurrying in the underbrush, Severus pointed his wand and waited, watching the map floating at his side.
Pettigrew came closer.
“Immobulus,” Severus hissed out when he had sight of Pettigrew. The rat froze in place, and Severus stepped out from behind the tree he had been hidden behind. “Incarcerous.” He cast again before kneeling down and picking Pettigrew up, placing him in the cage he had retrieved. “Hello, Pettigrew,” he greeted, staring at panicked eyes that darted towards him. “Not what you were expecting? My apologies. You betrayed too many people to have a warm welcome.” Tucking the map away, Severus glanced up the hill to the clearing.
He walked back to the castle, returning to Remus’ room.
The only place he would not run into someone else as he caught up to himself, to the time he had left from, and the people he needed to see. Severus collapsed into Remus’ chair, letting himself relax into the scent of him as he closed his eyes for a moment. Just a moment.
There were still so many things that needed to be done.
Severus picked up the cage again, hesitating at the door of Remus’ room. Who to tell first?
Something quiet, hesitant and worried, cautioned against telling Dumbledore first. Instead, Severus made a path for McGonagall’s room, knocking at her door and waiting. She opened it after a minute, wrapped in a tartan dressing gown, a stern expression on her face. “Severus, it is quite late for a social call.”
“I assure you, it is no social call.” he held up the cage. “It is a matter of the utmost importance.”
“…Is that a rat, Severus?”
“By the name of Peter Pettigrew, Minerva.” Severus nodded. “Captured tonight as he attempted to flee the scene and return to freedom. He has been living with Ronald Weasley as his pet for the past twelve years after faking his death and selling out the Potters.” Her mouth hung open, and Severus lifted the cage higher. “I have him immobilized and bound, but if you wish to see for yourself?”
“Come in, come in.” McGonagall stepped back, ushering him inside.
Her room was much homier than his own, warmer and softer. It seemed to be a Gryffindor trait, Severus thought, to seek out soft fabrics and warm lights. Remus had done the same in his décor. McGonagall conjured up a much larger cage as Severus watched, her hands practiced and quick, the result looking out of place among the red and gold of her room. “If you could put the rat into the cage and dispel the restraints, Severus,” she urged him. “I will see for myself.”
She had been his Head of House. She would know Pettigrew at a glance.
Severus did as she asked.
For the second time, he saw Pettigrew unravel from a rat back into a man. With his round cheeks and his greying hair, and his claw-like hands, he really had taken on the aspects of his animagus form. It was a pity for him that McGonagall was a cat. Before anything else could happen, Pettigrew was bound once more. McGonagall had a hand pressed to her heart, her eyes wide, as she brandished her wand. Her eyes were pinned to his missing finger, the only evidence that Peter Pettigrew had been murdered.
The evidence he had planted. The lie he had told the world. The evidence had been used to frame Black.
Her hand moved to her mouth, shaking.
When she looked at Severus again, he nodded silently. “I must return to the hospital wing in some hours,” he glanced at the Time-Turner. “A borrowed item must always be returned.”
“Miss Granger, then,” McGonagall nodded in turn. “With her blessings?”
“Yes.” Severus met her gaze. “I asked, she allowed it. I informed her I would be condemning him. With my remaining time, there are some other things I will be doing.” He took back the cage he had brought with him. “I assume you have this under control?”
“Be on your way, Severus, and be content in knowing I will be reporting this to those who have the power to do something about it.” McGonagall was still pale, but he could see the fury in her. “What will you be doing?”
“Remus has papers that need grading, and he forgot his potion tonight,” Severus spoke without thinking. “He will be a wreck tomorrow.”
“…Severus?”
She had been a teacher during their school years. She had seen the animosity, the anger, the fights, the pranks, and the near misses. Of course she would be curious about the change of heart now, the softness in him, the way he spoke of Remus. Severus simply looked at her, feeling his cheeks flush as he swallowed. He clenched his hands around the handle of the cage he carried. Her stare held power in it, and he nearly squirmed under the intensity, dropping his gaze to the floor like a scolded schoolboy. “There has been a change in our relationship,” he admitted quietly. “One I had not thought was as drastic as it was until tonight, when I stepped forward and brought the man back out of the beast.”
“The man back out—Oh, Severus.” McGonagall stepped closer, a hand on his shoulder. “Severus.”
“He said it first.” Severus felt it come out defensively, a childish retort, but it was an explanation at the same time. “And then when he had not taken his potion, the children were in danger and I…What else was I supposed to do?” his eyes burned, the events of the night finally catching up to him out of order. “It was either take the chance that a bit of myth was a truth and accept the consequences or let them be harmed.”
“You love him,” McGonagall’s voice was a whisper. “Truly and completely.”
“Despite everything,” Severus confirmed. “I love and trust him.”
Her smile was small, but warm.
~
Slipping back into the hospital wing at the correct time was easy.
Madam Pomfrey had not yet returned, Black was still tucked up under Remus’ bed, all was peaceful. Potter and Granger were in chairs they had pulled up at Remus’ bedside, speaking quietly to him. The curtains had been pulled back around Weasley, offering up a view of the somewhat exhausted-looking boy who watched the proceedings with an air of someone about to be asleep. His leg was still in a sling, so he could not be moved until Madam Pomfrey returned.
Severus pulled a cardigan from the bag he had brought with him, slipping it around Remus’ shoulders and adjusting it until it lay neatly. Glancing at the students, he noted that both of them had gone wide-eyed but were still listening as Remus spoke. Remus, who had not stopped speaking as Severus arranged a sweater around him.
The shirt he wore was thin, and he had looked cold. The memory of it had bothered Severus on his way back.
The idea of bringing Remus another layer had been simple.
Easy.
Love shown in small gestures.
“It is taken care of,” Severus murmured, pulling up his own chair. “And the official announcements and pardons should be coming soon.” He glanced at Black, who raised his head. He was certain they would never be friends, but for the sake of Remus, he could tolerate the man. When it had come down to it, Black had listened to him, after all, and he had kept the children safe. They had been able to work together.
Reaching across Remus, Severus handed Granger back the Time-Turner. “Keep it hidden,” he ordered softly. “Keep it safe.”
“Yes, Professor Snape,” Granger nodded, tucking the item away immediately. She leaned against Potter, who put a hand on her shoulder and supported her weight without question. The two of them were good friends, and he was glad to see it. He knew if Weasley had been able to, he would have joined the tableau, comforting his friends as best he could. After the night they had all had, Severus was exhausted, ready to sleep and stay that way for some time. From the way Remus was listing slightly to one side, he believed the same could be said of him, as well.
“Go back to your beds,” Severus spoke again, shooing them off. “Get some rest.” He paused, chewing on his decision for a moment, then sighed. “If you tell anyone I have been kind to you, I will be assigning you detention for a week.”
Remus snorted, covering up his laughter with a hand over his mouth. “Come now, Severus,” he met his eyes as the children skittered away.
Settling firmly back into his chair, Severus took his hand in both of his own, staring at a scar that ran across his thumb. He refused to speak, his shoulders pulling up towards his ears as he studied the edges of the scar, the way it broke across the smoother parts of Remus’ skin, pulling and creating a jagged line. A weight had settled in his chest, and he could not force words past it.
“Oh, Severus,” Remus whispered, his other hand settling on Severus’ cheek.
Their foreheads pressed together, their noses alongside each other, and Severus closed his eyes, leaning into the contact.
He was not stupid.
There were rumors about a curse on the position of Defense Against the Dark Arts professor, and he had heard Remus himself say that his job would be lost if he was found out as a werewolf. Students had witnessed his transformation, though not as many knew as could possibly be aware, and Severus could feel an end coming. Remus had been hired and fired so many times that he had compared the act of it to breathing. An ending was coming, and Severus did not want it to arrive, though he could feel it in his skin and bones, in the way his heart was thudding in his chest.
He clutched tighter at Remus’ hand.
“I will have to resign,” Remus breathed the words out. “It was a dangerous slip-up. One I must not be allowed to repeat.” He pushed closer, nuzzling in, and Severus held tighter. “I was so consumed with the need to catch him, to understand, to know, after all these years, that I forgot one of the most important steps I needed to take. I was careless, and it put everyone in danger. Including,” his hand moved to Severus’ hair, brushing it back. “Someone I love very much. I cannot forgive myself, even if your gambit paid off.”
“If you leave me to the hordes of children in this castle, alone,” Severus murmured. “I will lose my mind.”
“You have done this job for years without me,” Remus chuckled. “You can do it without me again.”
Severus pulled away from him, meeting his eyes. “No,” he stared at him, pressing his lips together into a line. “I do not believe I can.” A thought occurred to him, a spark coming to life and gaining speed. He blinked, examining the idea. “There is a place. A home.” He glanced at Black, who yawned, then buried his head under his paws. “…My home.”
“Your home?” Remus studied him, and Severus held still. “Severus?”
“A Floo call away,” he pinched his tongue between his teeth for a moment. “Remodeled to make living there…Acceptable. It could stand to be redecorated with a Gryffindor’s taste, if need be.” The version of himself from the beginning of the school term would be apoplectic, Severus knew, positively furious and raging, but he pushed that aside. New ground between them, forgiveness and apologies. “Wolfsbane potion brewed and me to ensure it gets consumed on schedule.”
“Taking care of me is rotten work,” Remus’ mouth quirked into a smile.
He knew that line, knew what it referenced, and after a silent moment between them, Severus brought Remus’ hand to his mouth, pressing a kiss to the scars across the back of it. “Not to me,” he murmured. “Not if it’s you.”
Remus’ smile, that time, was as bright as the sun.