𝚅𝙸𝚂𝙾𝙼𝙽𝙸𝙰 » 𝚂𝚂/𝚁𝙻

𝚇𝙻𝙸𝙸𝙸 » 𝙱𝙸𝙾𝙱𝙸'𝚂 𝙿𝙴𝙽𝙳𝙰𝙽𝚃

9 June, 1982

There was a knock on the door at seven-fourteen in the morning today.

I nudged Severus on the shoulder, feeling the bone of his arm just beneath his skin, so fragile and pale; so paper-like. He mumbled in his sleep and turned away from my touch, but I persisted.

"Sev," I whispered. "The door."

One thing that never left him, even in his sleep, was his lack of reception to anything involving the waking world. He scowled into his pillow. He was good at that scowl. The traces of it were already separating the valleys of his face, etching deeper the map between his cheek and his softened lips. He spoke weakly, yet with more disregard for life than I could muster even when angry.

"No," he said, and the word was sharp. "Too early."

"You should be used to this by now, yes?" I suggested. "You get up much earlier than this for your lessons."

"It is summer, is it not? Am I to be subjected to the mental vituperation of academic conformity during my reprieve?"

I paused as he scoffed and buried himself deeper beneath the covers. The knock came again.

"What is... vituperation?" I asked.

He growled. "The door, Lupin."

"Fine, the door," I replied, jumping up out of bed and re-tying my robe around myself, just in case it were to come loose.

The wooden floorboards were cold and dead beneath my every step. My bones still ached from my most recent shift, my knees pricking me with each step I took through the dark and dampened air. Morning light here was limited; only faint hints of it scattered themselves at my feet. It made the rooms feel smaller, quieter. It was no wonder Severus so feared feeling alone.

The handle to the front door was cold to the touch. I needed to have a word with the bastard and ask him to take a step back from his temperature cooling spells. It was summer, but the outside world wasn't on fire. We could handle a small bit of heat, could we not? Though he was never one for warmth.

I pulled open the door to find a familiar face. Ages more mature than I remembered, he stood with an expression taken most aback as he saw my robed frame in the place where he must have expected his lackluster professor to be situated. He gathered himself and nodded in greeting.

"I... didn't know Snape let pets live in his home," said Winchester Biobi, only half-joking as he glanced over my most recent shifting scars. The words barely stung. I was used to them. And he didn't know too much better regardless; he was younger than me by some time. I left Hogwarts while he was beginning it. Youth kept his mind indoctrinated and closed. Luckily, in terms of youth, I had just a bit less of it.

"His pets only bite when provoked, Biobi; nothing to fear. Come in," I offered, holding the door for him as he very hesitantly crossed the border into the frame. "I can imagine you are not here to see me. I will fetch the bunyip for you."

Winchester smirked faintly, still hesitant to be alone in my presence. His left fist was tightly clenched around some sort of object too small to be a weapon, but I could nearly hear his thoughts as he planned on how he could possibly defend himself with it. "Does he know you call him that? That you refer to him as an evil swamp-creature?"

"Oh, I call him many things. He certainly would be in no shock," I assured Biobi as I approached the bedroom door, knocking twice on its eroding wooden surface. "Severus."

"Away," came the muffled voice from within.

"Sev. Company."

"Sleeping."