"Mr. Partridge. Mr. Brown." Severus didn't shout, but his voice cut effortlessly through the tumult signaling the departure of the first year Gryffindors and Slytherins from their last class before a long weekend.

The two students in question froze, waiting reluctantly in the doorway while their classmates streamed away down the corridor. The shorter of the two was still clutching the incriminating shreds of a Weasleys' Wizarding Wheezes wrapper.

Severus eyed it – and them – with disfavor. "You may now explain precisely why you thought bringing that into my classroom would be a good idea," he said softly.

Brown opened his mouth, then closed it again and stared at the wrapper he was holding, but Partridge attempted a defense. "It was just a harmless joke, sir. Williams is always ragging on us, and we just thought..." He trailed off, the extreme displeasure in his professor's face apparently finally registering. "Erm, that is, I...erm..." He looked appealingly at his accomplice.

Brown gulped and took up the argument. "We only meant to embarrass her. Truly, it wouldn't have hurt her, sir," he said, displaying the wrapper. "See? It says right here that 'The effects are temporary, and the subject will experience no physical discomfort...'" He too trailed off, apparently mesmerized by the sight of Severus's long fingers tapping impatiently against his crossed forearms.

"When you planned this debacle, gentlemen, did you pause to consider any other possible consequences of your actions? For instance, what do you think would have happened if this thing had landed in Miss Williams's cauldron?" Severus said coldly.

Brown blanched. Partridge was slower to work through what Severus had said, but after a moment he blinked and said, "Oh."

"Eloquent as always, Mr. Partridge. 'Oh' indeed," Severus mocked. He glared at them, then snapped, "That will be twenty points from Gryffindor. Each."

They groaned.

"And detention tomorrow morning."

"But, Professor!" Partridge blurted. "Don't you know what day it is?"

Sunlight glinted on Lucius's hair as he dodged Severus's hex. Shouts and curses drifted to Severus's ears on the mild spring breeze as they dueled; he risked a quick glance to see how the others were faring.

Lupin was in no danger – Macnair, for all his strength and bulk, was criminally stupid. Lupin could handle him easily. Albus, though – he was busy shielding Potter, Granger, and Weasley, until they could all retreat from this mess. No one on either side had expected this confrontation, but the Dark Lord certainly wasn't one to waste an opportunity, not when he had them outnumbered. Severus deflected another curse from Lucius, making certain he stayed close to Albus. The old fool was so busy protecting the children he wasn't paying enough attention to defending himself...

A hoarse cry drew his eyes irresistibly to the side – Remus! Pettigrew was standing with his hand on Remus's chest, and Macnair stepped back laughing as Remus, face twisted with agony, collapsed to his knees. Severus's throat constricted with fear – he had seen Pettigrew rip a Muggle's heart from his chest with his spell-enhanced hand – he had no desire to see that happen to Remus.

Knowing he was leaving himself fatally open to Lucius's next attack, he whirled. "Avada Kedavra!

Pettigrew collapsed, a look of astonishment frozen on his face.

The ground rushed up to meet Severus – he couldn't move, but at least he could see Remus raising his wand in a shaking hand to gasp "Stupefy!" at Macnair, who had snarled and lunged forward when Pettigrew fell.

Severus had enough time to think that perhaps Remus would survive, and to wonder what was taking Lucius so long, before he heard, through the mingled shouts and curses, Lucius's voice, calmly pronouncing "Avada Ke– Ahh!"

Severus lay on the ground, futilely struggling to move enough to see what had interrupted Lucius, to see Remus again, to be something other than a bloody stupid target...

He heard a quiet gasp, then a soft thud, followed by a sudden shocking silence.

"...most important event of the year!" Partridge declared loudly.

Voldemort shouted a curse, and Severus could hear his hissing laughter even over Ron Weasley's hideous scream and Potter and Granger's shrieks of denial.

Albus? Albus!

"Sir? Professor Snape?"

Remus crawled into his line of sight. "Severus... Finite incantatem. Severus..."

Severus managed to get to his hands and knees and look past the still, white-haired form next to him. The Dark Lord wasn't laughing any longer – he and Potter were motionless, staring at each other. Incautious in his triumph, Voldemort had slipped and given Potter the opening he needed.

Granger was still fighting, despite the tears making tracks through Weasley's blood on her cheeks. She told him, much later, that it had been Albus who interrupted Lucius's killing curse while Severus lay helpless.

There were still far too many Death Eaters standing. He and Remus staggered to their feet, raising their wands.

Severus distantly heard Brown whispering, "You idiot, of course he knows what day it is!", but he was still overwhelmed by a tide of memories.

Potter, white faced but grimly determined, forcing all his love and grief through his connection to Voldemort... The look of fear, at last, in the red eyes, as the Dark Lord began to tremble... The Dark Mark, fading from his arm unseen under a slippery coating of blood as he and Granger knelt over Weasley's body... The stricken look in her eyes when Severus shook his head... A flash of Auror's robes, too late, much too late... Potter, staggering with exhaustion, collapsing next to Granger... Remus, fainting from blood loss... Lucius's body, lying in the grass, shining hair sullied with dirt.

Severus had paused long enough to spell the silken strands clean before he left the field, in return for Lucius's hesitation before the killing curse. Or maybe it had been for his choosing Avada Kedavra over trying to capture Severus and present him to the Dark Lord to be tortured again...

"Er – right. We'll just...be here tomorrow then, sir," Brown said, tugging Partridge down the corridor. "Come on, you moron," he hissed.

Albus had left Severus a letter, and a pair of socks. It had taken two weeks for him to be able to read past "Severus, my dear boy. Never be sorry you have survived..."

Pomfrey said the Headmaster's heart had simply given out from the strain. He had, after all, been very old.

He left Remus the little cottage in Hogsmeade.

"I can't believe you tried to convince Professor Snape he should let us off detention for a Quidditch match. Are you insane?" Brown said as he hustled Partridge away. "We'll be lucky if he doesn't..."

Quidditch. Quidditch? Severus was torn between hysterical laughter and hexing Partridge into oblivion. The fool thought tomorrow was important because of a Quidditch match?

He could still hear Partridge's insistent voice as the students retreated. "But, but, Bryan – it's the most important game of the year!"

Severus felt suddenly empty, and very old. Quidditch? He'd forgotten the game was tomorrow. And, true, he did want to see it. After all, if Gryffindor lost to Ravenclaw, Slytherin had a chance at the cup this year. He'd have to supervise the detention himself – everyone else would be at the match. Even Filch would be occupied.

"Brown. Partridge."

The boys stopped. "Yes, Professor?" Brown said apprehensively.

"Be here immediately after the game. And you had best hope Gryffindor loses so that I am feeling charitable."

Their faces lit. "Sir! Yes, sir!" They bolted down the corridor, clearly bent on making their escape before he could change his mind.

They paid no attention to the quiet, graying man rounding the corner as they raced past. Not that anyone paid much attention to Remus's presence at Hogwarts these days – Albus had sanctioned Remus's visits to Harry, and by extension Severus, years ago, and Remus had simply continued visiting until his presence was routine and unremarkable.

Remus watched the students with a faint smile, which turned questioning when he looked at Severus. "Severus?"

Severus shook his head sharply and secured his classroom with a flick of his wand. He strode toward his chambers, Remus a solid and reassuring presence at his elbow.

Once the door was safely closed, Remus asked, "What is it, Severus?"

Severus stalked toward the fireplace and picked up a book, then put it back down. He glanced at Remus before staring fixedly at the mantle. "They think tomorrow is important because there is a Quidditch match." He picked up the poker and jabbed viciously at the unlit logs in the fireplace.

Remus sat down in what had long ago become his chair. "Oh, Severus..."

Severus's throat felt oddly tight. "Quidditch. Is that why we fought the Dark Lord? Idiots..." The poker rang on the hearthstone when he threw it down.

"So children could be children, and think about Quidditch instead of whether they'd survive the year?" Remus said. "Yes, Severus, I rather think it is. At least, it's one of the reasons I fought."

Severus's head turned in Remus's direction, but his eyes were unfocused.

"The youngest of the students now weren't even born until after Voldemort was finally dead, Severus. They've lived their whole lives free from the kind of fear we knew. You can't blame them for being frivolous, or for not understanding what it was like then. The older students – they may remember a little; they may even remember someone who was killed. But for most of the youngest students, the memorial day is just...a holiday about something they haven't even studied yet in History of Magic," Remus said bluntly.

Severus was either going to scream or break something, and he couldn't do that in front of Remus. He grabbed his wand instead. "Divestio."

Remus blinked in surprise. "Severus, I don't think this is what you need–" he protested, but he let Severus push him down onto the hearthrug anyway. Remus closed his eyes with a gasp as Severus dropped to his knees and took his cock in his mouth, running his tongue hard along the underside of the shaft and sucking gently until it began to harden in response.

Severus's hair fell forward, veiling his face and tickling Remus's stomach. Remus shifted restlessly, and Severus backed off and sat up, curling one hand around Remus's cock and stroking its length firmly. His other hand drifted across Remus's chest to brush the small reddened scar that still marked where Pettigrew's silver thumb had driven almost all the way to Remus's heart before Severus killed him.

Something they haven't even studied yet in History of Magic... Never regret that you have survived...

Severus's chest ached. He felt strangely hollow, as if he would crumble – or fly apart – at a word. He banished his own clothes abruptly and shifted position, swinging one leg over Remus's body and forcing himself down on Remus's cock in the same motion.

Remus's eyes flew open. "No, wait! You're not even–"

Severus, hissing at the welcome, burning pain, ignored the protest and forced himself a little further down despite Remus's hands on his hips trying to lift him off.

Remus's face set. He kept his hold on Severus's hips, but instead of trying to push Severus away, he grasped hard to steady Severus as he thrust upward firmly. Severus gasped at that and let his head fall back, and he didn't resist when Remus flipped them over. He gave a small, wordless cry when Remus thrust again, and let Remus shift his legs a bit higher. But then Remus's hands closed tightly around Severus's wrists and he leaned forward, pinning Severus to the floor with his weight.

Severus opened his eyes, saw a look of sympathy on Remus's face that was dangerously close to pity, and began struggling wildly against Remus's hold. He thrashed and bucked, but even had he been willing to exert his full strength, Remus had positioned himself too well for Severus to dislodge him.

Remus let Severus fight for a moment, then he forced Severus's arm up so Remus could grab a handful of dark hair and wrench Severus's head back. He positioned his mouth by Severus's ear and snarled, "Do you want me to hurt you, Severus?"

Severus went still, panting, every muscle tensed against Remus.

Remus softened his voice. "You should know by now that I won't do that, love. Did you think this pain would drive away the other? Because it won't."

Severus made a noise suspiciously close to a sob and went limp in his grasp.

Remus leaned even closer and whispered, "Do you think you want it hard, and fast, and rough, Severus? So you can forget? You will never forget." He met Severus's angry, desperate eyes. "And you don't need to forget, Severus. What you need is to remember – remember love, and joy, and life." He brushed a gentle kiss on Severus's cheekbone, then his tight-lipped mouth. "What you need is to think of us – only of us, here, now."

Remus rocked his hips gently, moving ever so slightly within Severus's body, as he pulled Severus's head further back. He kissed the exposed line of his throat, and kept up the slow movement of his hips, until he felt Severus's cock hardening between their bellies.

He pulled out a little farther and thrust in a bit deeper at that, and at Severus's tiny whine of pleasure, he did it again, and again, until Severus was once again struggling to free his wrists from Remus's hold. This time, Remus let go.

Severus slid his hands over the warm, familiar planes of Remus's back, moaning with pleasure as Remus thrust harder. He kissed Remus, opening his mouth and letting Remus's tongue stroke in and out of his mouth just as Remus's cock was stroking in and out of his body. Remus lifted his head and smiled, and Severus gasped, "More, Remus. More!"

Remus growled low in his throat and pulled out, rolling Severus over and up onto his hands and knees before he pushed back in, thrusting as hard and as deeply as Severus had wanted, only there was no pain, just warmth and fullness and need. Severus let himself drown in sensation, pushing back against Remus and thrusting forward into the tight circle of his hand, until his mind whited out with pleasure and he fell, breathing Remus's name.

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Severus lay quietly on the rug. Remus had pushed himself up with a groan and was sitting on the floor next to him, propped against the chair and running his fingers through Severus's hair.

"So. Was this what you came for, Lupin?" Severus asked, but his voice lacked any bite.

One corner of Remus's mouth lifted. "Not exactly. But I'd never be foolish enough to turn it down," he said. Severus waited, and eventually Remus said, "I wanted to ask you if..." He sighed. "Harry and Hermione are giving a garden party for my birthday. They've invited you, of course."

Severus snorted. He had always suspected that Severus Snape was a topic Remus and Harry Potter avoided almost as assiduously as he and Remus avoided any mention of Sirius Black. "You mean Granger ordered you to bring me, and Potter said, 'Er, right. Of course.'"

Remus's smiled tilted. "Something like that," he admitted.

A pointed refusal was on Severus's tongue – he didn't care to spend hours in what would doubtless be a crowd of Gryffindors who hated him – but then he looked at the other man. Remus had the wistful look of someone who knew he was about to be refused but couldn't help asking anyway. Remus would be fifty...

"All right," Severus found himself saying. "I'll go."

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Severus cursed himself for that moment of weakness a few days later, when he found himself surrounded by too many Weasleys. Or Weasley-Johnsons, or whatever they were calling themselves; he hadn't bothered to keep track of who had married whom. Although to be fair, it wasn't all Weasleys – there were other people, mostly Aurors and ex-Aurors and Order members – they were just outnumbered by Weasleys.

He eyed the buffet table warily, wondering if the punch was spiked with anything that would help him get through the rest of the evening. He had decided it was far more likely to have been spiked in a completely undesirable fashion by the incorrigible Weasley twins and was about to turn away when Hermione walked over to him.

Guessing his thoughts, she said, "It should be safe enough to eat anything off the main table here."

Severus's eyebrow rose. "Charmed it, have you?"

Hermione smiled. "No, Fred and George would only see that as a challenge. I threatened them instead – far more effective." Severus's lips twitched in amusement, and Hermione continued, "But I wouldn't set my plate down, or take anything off one of the side tables, if I were you."

A sudden popping sound, followed by gasps and raucous laughter, lent strength to her warning. Severus could just catch a glimpse of something purple and hairy through the crowd.

His attention was diverted by a horde of red-headed children stampeding past, and Severus had the appalling thought that the oldest must be almost ready to begin at Hogwarts.

Hermione immediately confirmed his fear. "I hope you're ready, Professor. William should be starting Hogwarts this autumn."

"I shall inform the Headmistress to begin searching for my replacement immediately," he said dryly.

Hermione laughed.

Another voice broke into the conversation. "You passed up your chance to rid the world of Weasleys years ago, Professor – we know how you really feel about us," a Weasley twin said cheerfully.

"Do you indeed, Mr. Weasley?" Severus drawled.

"Oh yes." The twin – Severus thought it was Fred – grinned. "Punch, Professor?" he offered.

Severus did not for an instant imagine that the innocent-looking cup contained only fruit juice and alcohol. "On no account," he said evenly.

"Oh, well. It was worth a try," Fred said unrepentantly, disappearing back into the crowd with a wink.

Hermione shook her head. She and Severus stood watching the mob for a moment before Severus saw her smile and realized she was looking at Harry. Without thinking, he commented, "I thought you and Potter would be married by now." He knew immediately that he had misstepped when she stiffened, all traces of happiness and relaxation falling away. Damn. He had been at considerable pains to cultivate a working relationship with her. Besides, Remus liked her, and for a Gryffindor, she was...almost tolerable, now that she had matured.

"My apologies. I did not mean to pry," he said stiffly.

Hermione looked up at him. She was still tense, but she forced a laugh. "No, it's– We get that all time, you know. But I don't imagine you are looking for a juicy story to sell to Witch Weekly."

"I wouldn't dare," he said. "I am certain your capacity for revenge has progressed far past writing 'sneak' on my forehead in purple pustules."

Hermione's eyes widened, then she burst into honest laughter. "I'd forgotten about that," she admitted. Sobering, she said slowly, "We– it isn't that simple. Harry's ask– I mean, we've discussed it, but... Harry is an Auror."

"Of course he is," Severus said impatiently, not understanding where the conversation was headed. He had more than halfway expected to hear some drivel about Ron Weasley and adolescent love; he wasn't expecting an update on Potter's professional status.

Hermione's laugh this time had an unmistakable edge to it. "Yes, of course he is," she repeated. "But, you see, that's the problem."

"Ah," Severus said.

"It's just – after the war... after Ron... I can't risk losing someone else, not like that," she declared.

So it was Weasley then, just not in the way he had thought. Severus looked across the lawn and saw that Remus was watching Harry fondly as he talked animatedly with some other Auror and Ginny Weasley.

"When Potter dies–" he said slowly.

Severus saw a glimpse of the screaming girl who had killed Lucius Malfoy in the self-possessed young woman before him – fury flashed in Hermione's face, and her hand twitched close to where Severus knew she carried her wand. "You–"

He held up a hand to stem her angry words. "We all die, Miss Granger. That was neither a threat, nor a speculation as to the imminence of Potter's demise."

She looked abashed. "Sorry," she muttered, and let him continue.

"When he dies – will you mourn him less, Miss Granger, or more, if you haven't had everything with him that you could?"

Hermione noticed his eyes were resting not on Harry, but on Remus Lupin, and she saw with a pang that her old teacher was thinner than ever and his hair was almost completely gray. Somehow, even though she had read all about werewolves – damage from monthly transformations, premature aging, decreased life expectancy – she had never associated those facts with Remus. Not calm, cheerful Remus, who had been a reliable presence in her and Harry's lives for so long now...

Through her dismay, she heard Severus still speaking. "We can not change what someone else is, at their core. We can only accept it – the joy and the grief together – or close ourselves off entirely. And I can assure you, Miss Granger," he said wryly, "there is no happiness to be found that way."

Fifty – fifty was old, for a werewolf. Oh, Remus... Hermione suddenly realized just why Severus Snape was so interested in her work on repairing soft tissue injuries that he had been punctiliously polite to her for the past few years. Still, what he had said to her stung.

"Carpe diem, Professor? That's not a philosophy I would have expected from you," she said rather bitterly.

"Remus comes far closer to that ideal than do I, Miss Granger," he said calmly. "But it is only reasonable to seize what chances for happiness we are offered, while we can – after all, pain and death will always find us, in the end."

"All good things..." she murmured.

"Precisely, Miss Granger." Severus stopped speaking. He had said far too much already. "You will excuse me," he said abruptly and strode away.

When he looked back at Hermione several minutes later, she was still standing by the table, but as he watched, her pensive expression changed to one of resolution. She walked straight to Harry, and whatever she said to him transformed his face with incredulous joy. Remus, looking up, met Severus's eyes across the lawn and smiled.

A few minutes later, Severus turned to find Remus at his side. "Enjoying yourself?"

"Immensely," Remus replied with satisfaction. "Hermione just proposed to Harry, you know."

"Ah?" Severus said noncommittally.

Remus smiled. "Yes."

"I assume even Potter had enough sense not to refuse, so I must expect that a clutch of green-eyed know-it-alls will invade my classroom in a few years?"

"Just so," Remus said. With a sly grin, he added, "Hermione may even insist on you being a godparent." Severus's eyes widened in alarm, and Remus laughed. "But you know what else it means, Severus?"

Severus shook his head. "Enlighten me, Lupin."

Remus's grin widened, and he spoke quietly in Severus's ear. "It means Harry will be too preoccupied to notice if we slip away a bit early. And I feel like celebrating my birthday...somewhere more private."

Severus's breath caught at the smoldering look in Remus's eyes. He didn't need Legilimency to know what Remus was thinking – slow kisses and the long hot slide of a cock into a willing body... He shivered.

"Lupin, I believe it is time for us to go."

The popping of champagne corks around Harry and Hermione covered the sound of their Disapparation.