WARNING: This is a slash story, which means it contains male/male erotic content involving consenting adults. If you're not of legal age or are offended by such material, please go find something else to read.

Title: Cup Bearer
Author: Titania
E-Mail: titania3@juno.com
Rating: R
Category: Drama/Angst
Summary: Remus tries to revive his connection with Severus. Is Severus trying, too?
Disclaimer: Snape and Lupin belong entirely to JK Rowling. I'm just borrowing them.

________________________________________________

I don't hear his footsteps. No one ever does, unless he's announcing his presence. He walks as silently as the shadows he likes to cling to. But I smell the bitter tang of herbs, the odd mixture of fair and foul smells he carries with him like a turtle carries his shell. I savor them. I can almost count the rings of the aromas which cling to him. By association I have come to crave them, too.

He pauses in the doorway, silhouetted there against the torchlight from the hallway.

"Come in, Severus," I say. "I was just napping." I quickly flick my wand and restore my office to its former cozy brightness. I hadn't realized I had fallen asleep in here, and I wonder for a moment how he found me. Then I remember. Severus glides silently towards me, his fathomless black eyes never leaving mine. He holds the smoking goblet cupped in both hands as if it were holy, which, I suppose in a way it is. His slow steps remind me of the processionals at the Masses my mother used to force me to attend.

His severe, high-necked black robes make him look like a priest. Ironic, considering his reputation is virtually the opposite. Voldemort's catamite, they called him at one time. But he does bearing my salvation. Without this monthly communion, I could not be employed. I could not live as a human. I'd be back at St. Mungo's, or worse.

Until now, I had despaired of the possibility of putting back together the life that fell apart the year the Potters were killed. This school, Harry, Dumbledore, even Severus, they are links to my past. And they are all I have left. Is it possible to breathe life into these random shards, and make a new life?

Severus holds out the cup, waiting for me to take it. He smiles that crooked half-smile he reserves for his personal victories. "I thought I'd find you sleeping. You do have classes, you know. One will be starting in half an hour."

I give him a sardonic smile. "Yes. Perhaps you should brew something to keep me awake as well." My hands shake as I take the cup from him. He doesn't think I see his look of concern, but I do. It's only a little crumb, but it warms my heart. His fingers brush mine as if by accident. I look up into his dark eyes. "Thank you, Severus," I say, showing him for once all the gratitude I feel. He looks away, embarrassed.

"You should drink that directly, Lupin," he says, as usual. As if I needed to be reminded. For a split second I am irritated. I know exactly how important it is for me to drink this potion, thank you, and I am not so irresponsible or hopeless that I would ever forget to take it.

My irritation melts as I realize that he is taking care of me, in his own way. He is forever hovering over me, nagging at me, weighing, measuring, following me around with his calendars and his potions and dosages and measurements. It is the only way left that he will allow himself to care for me. I take the cup and press it to my lips without breaking eye contact with him. I drink very deliberately, daring him to notice that I'm flirting with him.

"No need to thank me, Lupin. It's purely a professional obligation, as we both know." The look I want to give him is spoiled by the grimace induced by the vile taste of the potion. He folds his arms across his chest and waits.

"Too bad I can't wash this down with something else," I remark uselessly. Not for the first time, I wonder what is in the potion. I take it every month, but Severus refuses to disclose its contents, and Dumbledore respects his wishes.

He arches one eyebrow ruefully, and wraps his cape tighter around himself, as if to protect himself from my innuendo. He knows my feelings for him haven't changed. He has to know. They cannot change. "Well, it isn't a culinary beverage. Flavor isn't really the point." He gives me a searching gaze. "I would like to know, however, if you are satisfied with the potion's other effects."

"You want me to talk to you about the transformations?" "Yes. If you can. I realize that you may not remember anything about it." "I remember enough to know that the potion helps me, Severus." I don't want to bare the scars, let him visualize me inflicting the harm on myself. I know he probably knows. He's even seen me, God help me, in the wolf form. It is almost as hard for me to forgive him for seeing me that way as it is for him to forgive me that form. He looks at me expectantly, obviously awaiting more details. "How much detail will satisfy your clinical curiosity?"

He looks at the floor, arms still folded across his chest.

"This is what I remember about transforming. First, the pain. Like having all of your bones pulled out of their sockets. Just not being able to find a comfortable position to sit or lie in, turning around and around, trying to find a way to position myself that wasn't painful. It's still a bit uncomfortable, mind you, but now it's more like something sprained, and it passes after an hour. Then it really was indescribably painful. And then once the pain passed, I remembered very little. Hunger, anger, sometimes, and some kind of feeling, a loneliness, an emptiness that simply made me want to howl. I would come to and find I'd been biting myself. Untransforming was just as painful as transforming."

We don't look at one another. "And now?" he prompts.

"Now I wouldn't dream of biting myself. I don't feel the hunger. I usually feel a bit drowsy, and comfortable. Warm. I don't hate myself now when I'm transformed. I'm just me with fur."

"No urge to attack whatsoever?" I shake my head. "None. And believe me, Severus, it used to possess me." He moves towards me quickly, so that I startle and my hands fly up to push him away. "What are you playing at?"

"I want to see if your transformations are as quiet as you claim. Remove your clothing please." I untie my robes with as little ado as possible, trying to will away the arousal I feel at suddenly being exposed to him. He comes close, and inspects my chest, my sides, my legs, every part I could conceivably reach while in wolf form. His long, tapered fingers linger along the scars I hate so much, caressing me, before curling quickly into a fist.

"You're telling me the truth. Another side effect of the potion, perhaps?" He shoots me a baleful look out of those obsidian eyes. There is fear tainting his scent. Fear of me, or something else, I don't know.

"I've never lied to you, Severus," I say, slowly pulling my robes back on. He looks as though he wants to say something, but he doesn't. This is the most we've spoken to one another in nearly twenty years. I don't want it to end. I look at him, hoping for some excuse to prolong the conversation. He looks at me pointedly.

"Yes you have, Lupin. A lie of omission is still a lie." There's an awkward silence. He breaks it finally. "You loved him." It's not a question, it's a statement. "Black."

"Of course. He was my best friend. No one ever cared about me as much as he did." He winces, thinking I don't notice.

"Lupin," he says coldly. "You never knew who your friends were, did you?"

It's true. I thought they'd take care of me, until my early demise sometime around...well, now, I'd expected. Yet they are gone, and I take care of myself. I thought James was invincible, that he would live forever, and he was the first of us to die. I thought Sirius would run through fire for any of us, and he's the one who got us all killed. All but me, I correct myself. Is he out there, waiting to kill me, or did he spare me because I was the one he loved the most?

As if reading my thoughts, Snape says, "He tried to kill you first, you pathetic, conceited ass. What do you think he meant by bringing you a human victim to prey on? "

"Human?" I ask, knowing it will annoy him. It does.

"As far as he knew, yes," Snape spits back. "Was it the first time he tried to tempt you to hunt? Or were there other times?" I close my eyes. "That he tried to kill me, I know, doesn't impress upon any of you his real nature. Why shouldn't he try to kill me? But I thought at least you, Lupin, would see that he was trying to strike at you as well. After all, you were the sensitive one, weren't you?" This last was said dripping with sarcasm. "Idiot. You actually believed he wanted to protect you? My God, Lupin, you are thick. Even now, when you know what he became, you still try to make excuses for him."

"Forgive me for not being prescient, Severus. It isn't as though he wore a badge that said, "future bad guy" all through school."

"No, I'm the one who got to wear that," he says bitterly.

"And here you are," I say softly. "Teaching children all day, when we both know you'd rather be out there doing research. Keeping Harry safe, which can't be an easy task Especially with him being so like James. Taking care of me one week out of every month. You're a good man, Severus. I always thought so."

"In your expert opinion, you mean?" He says, sneering. "I'm in the same company as Sirius Black. Forgive me if I don't say thank you." "Point well taken." I sigh. My track record as a judge of character is abysmal. "Do you still see Evan Rosier?" "He's dead. Auror." "I'm sorry." "Don't be. I'm the one who turned him in." I look into those unreadable black eyes. We're both in the same boat, really. The people we trusted, turned out not to be very trustworthy.

"It's all in the past now, Severus." I say, toying with the empty cup. "No, it isn't, Lupin. Black is out there right now. And I am warning you now," he says, coming so close our faces are almost touching, "If I ever find out that you are helping Black escape justice, or that you are endangering a student in any way, I will strike at you in any way that I can. Be very careful, Lupin."

"Severus." He pauses, annoyed that I have interrupted his dramatic exit. "I'm glad the students are in such good hands." He snorts, but I can tell I've thrown him off balance. He was expecting silence, or perhaps a defensive tirade. His eyes soften, and for a moment I can see the Severus I remember in his face. His eyes dart to the goblet. "Come by for a refill, if you need more," he says, as usual. "You should hurry," he adds, before fleeing my office.

As I leave my office and sprint down the hall, I realize I have an invitation to Severus' quarters. The smile that spreads across my face is with me for the rest of the day.