»»————- song: ————-««
we won't make the same mistakes again
★ before their eyes ★
❝ i learned that you could choose why you hurt
or you can let the world hurt you while you do nothing
the moment of that decision will change everything
i realized my heart was a stranger to me
when someone ripped it open
and showed me parts that I've never seen.❞
♢ ♢ ♢
There was a familiar rap on the door, two slow, deliberate knocks.
"Come in," Snape said, folding the letter he had been reading and placing it into a drawer out of sight. It was from Dumbledore, notifying staff that Lupin would be leaving.
"Hello, Severus," Lupin said cheerfully. His hair was as mussed as always, and the bags under his eyes were much more pronounced than usual, but his smile was ever the same. It was only seven in the morning. Snape wasn't sure where the man got his energy from.
"You're leaving," Snape said. It wasn't a question.
"Ah, yes, unfortunately," Lupin said, plunking himself down heavily into a chair. "Well, like I said. No use tempting the jinx."
"I suppose," Snape said. "Well, good riddance."
"Thank you," Lupin said magnanimously. "I'll be out of your hair soon enough. But it's been a pleasure being your personal peeve." He ignored the scowl Snape gave him, and instead leaned back, closing his eyes.
"You know, sometimes, I catch myself being angry," he admitted. "Angry at the Board of Governors, angry at the Wizarding World... But I also have to remember that the people who are angry at me... are parents of children whom I put in great danger because of my own carelessness. Sometimes, I wonder to myself. Would the world be better off without people like me?"
Snape, who had leaned down to pick up a paper that had fallen on the floor, briefly winced. "You're a person," he said, straightening up. "Not a rabid dog to be euthanised."
Lupin opened his eyes in surprise. He looked at Snape for a moment, then smiled sadly. "Sometimes I wonder what's the difference."
Snape couldn't say anything to that, because he knew there was no convincing a person who was determined to despise every part of himself, who could lay out every reason why he does not deserve to be alive.
"But anyway," Lupin said, "That's that. No damage done, no thanks to me. I'm just glad this is how things turned out... relatively. Everyone is safe."
His face turned deathly serious in the next moment. "Safe," he murmured. "I can't stop thinking about what you told me about Harry. He's not safe in that house. Can't you do something about it, Severus?" Lupin's tone turned to pleading.
"Do what, Lupin?" Snape demanded wearily. "Do you know how many times I've talked to Albus about this? And do you know how many times he's dismissed me?"
"Why would he do that?" Lupin asked.
"For the greater good," Snape spat. "Because he's protected by the blood wards. Surely you know about the blood wards?"
"Of course I know, but he's being harmed by his own flesh and blood!" Lupin exclaimed.
"Do you think I don't know that?" Snape all but shouted, standing up. "Do you think I haven't tried to get that through Albus' head? He doesn't care, Lupin!"
The silence that followed rang through the office.
Snape slowly sat down. "And what's more," he said, quieter, "I catch myself wondering... what if he's right?"
Lupin jerked forward. "Severus, how—"
"The physical abuse is sparse, and Harry can protect himself," Snape interrupted. "I think to myself. Would I rather he were spared of his relatives, or Voldemort?"
"You know that's not the logic Albus is following," Lupin hissed. "I'm not clueless, Severus. You know you or Albus can Conjure a ward almost as strong as any blood ward."
Snape looked down at his desk.
"Don't you think this is a perfect way to equip a vulnerable child to becoming a pawn?" Lupin said. "Damn it, Severus, what if it were you? Wouldn't you want to be taken out of that house, and given the childhood you deserve, even if there were a small chance of a deranged stalker coming after you? Which one would fuck you up more?"
Snape didn't say anything. And maybe that's what gave it away.
"Oh," Lupin said, and he slowly lowered the hands he had thrown into the air. "I... I'm sorry, Severus, I shouldn't have..."
"I don't know what I would have wanted," Snape said. "Because no one even tried to help. And anyway, I wasn't abused."
Lupin set his jaw. "I don't know your past, and I can't make any judgements," he said slowly. "But if it was anything like Harry's situation..."
"Don't make assumptions," Snape said venomously.
"Do you think you deserved it?"
Snape slowly looked up, dark eyes smoldering. "That. Is none of your business."
"Because if you do, that means you think Harry deserves it."
"That's different—"
"How?" Lupin said, gesturing wildly. "How does any child deserve to be unloved?"
"Harry is a better person than me," Snape said through gritted teeth.
"No, you refuse to see your own best attributes, and forget that circumstances can make a man," Lupin retorted. "And I can't tell you to get over your trauma—that is not my place—but I need you to see that your mindset towards abuse is directly affecting Harry's well-being. I'd go to Albus myself if I didn't know he wouldn't listen to a word I'd say."
"And you think he'd listen to me?"
"You're the closest thing he has to a son, from what I can see."
"Well, in that case he's an abysmal father."
"Big surprise. Point is, you're not trying hard enough."
Snape lowered his head. "I know what Albus is trying to do," he said, after a pause. "I'm surprised you could see it so clearly."
"I've never met anyone as manipulative as him," Lupin said grimly. "I just always assume he has ulterior motives."
"And you're right to," Snape said.
"Promise me you'll fight for Harry," Lupin said, standing up to place his palms on the desk. "I have no stake over his life. I leave now, and I just know Albus will pull some kind of strings to keep me away. Promise me, Severus."
Snape didn't say anything.
Lupin's expression darkened. He straightened up, and ran a hand through his hair.
"It's been a pleasure working with you, Severus," he said quietly. "I hope we meet again."
The door shut softly behind Lupin. And Snape never said a word.
♢ ♢ ♢
Harry rounded the corner and pounded on Lupin's office door. When it opened, Harry nearly fell over, but instantly righted himself.
"Were you sacked?" Harry demanded, out of breath from running.
"Hello, Harry," Lupin said pleasantly. "Come on in."
"Professor Snape said that I better go talk to you, since I won't be able to for long," Harry said. "Just now, after Potions. It's not true, right? He meant something else, right?"
"Ah," Lupin said. "Severus is as cryptic as ever. He doesn't have to be so roundabout. No, not sacked," he said mildly as he put some papers into his briefcase. The whole desk, Harry realized, was covered in opened and unopened envelopes, strewn with letters. The quill strokes of the words written on them were jagged and angry. "I resigned."
Harry stared at him in disbelief. "But... why? Why would you do that? You're the best Defense teacher we've ever had!"
"I'm flattered, Harry. But I always knew my post here wouldn't be very permanent," Lupin said lightly. "I had a wonderful time teaching you students, though. And I daresay you were my best one. Although you can't tell anyone that." Lupin gave Harry a good-natured wink.
Harry watched helplessly as Lupin waved his wand so all the letters would neatly fold themselves away back in their envelopes, and then one more time to arrange the envelopes into neat stacks. "Are those letters..."
"From angry parents," Lupin sighed. "Outraged Board of Governors."
"Because you have lycanthropy?" Harry asked, balling his hands into fist. "That's it? That's their problem?"
Lupin turned to him, this time his expression gravely serious. "Lycanthropy is always a problem, to them," he said. "It's not such a surprise."
"But it's not fair!"
"A great many things in life aren't fair, Harry," Lupin said, not unkindly. "I'm sorry it has to be this way. And besides, my own recklessness played a part, too. This could have been avoided."
"But Sirius is safe now!"
"But the end does not fully justify the means." Lupin gave Harry a reassuring smile. "I am forever indebted to you. You've helped to prove one of my best friends' innocence. You've helped bring two of my best friends' betrayer to justice. And not to say of the fact that those three people were your godfather and parents. I am not angry, and I wouldn't undo any of this for the world. But the parents are right to be outraged. There is no right or wrong side in this situation."
Harry deflated, knowing in his heart that Lupin was right, but unwilling to accept it. "It was partly my fault," he muttered.
Lupin reached out as though to lightly touch Harry's shoulder, but retracted his hand and instead held up his palm. "Don't think like that," he said firmly. "Do not blame yourself. Do you hear? I certainly don't. Do not carry such a heavy burden."
Harry managed to give him a grateful smile. "Thanks for being my favorite professor," he said tightly.
"Thank you for being an outstanding person," Lupin said.
♢ ♢ ♢
When a medium-sized owl with warm amber eyes dropped a letter in front of Snape the day after Lupin left Hogwarts, the last day of term, he sighed in irritation.
"What do you have for me, you little cretin," he murmured as he inspected the envelope. Sure enough, it was Lupin's handwriting, and addressed to Severus Snape.
The owl gave a polite, cheerful hoot. It even sounded like Lupin.
"I'm not opening it now, if that's what you're waiting for," Snape said sternly. "Go back to your master, wherever he is."
But the owl seemed to be ignoring him. It was instead looking at the pile of cut-up peaches next to Snape's toast.
"Oh fine," Snape sighed again in annoyance. "If I let you eat that, will you leave?"
The owl gave another friendly hoot, swallowed a couple of pieces, and took flight. It circled around Snape's head once, and flew away.
McGonagall had been watching the whole exchange with interest. "I didn't know you and Remus were on speaking terms," she said in surprise.
"We're. Not," Snape said through gritted teeth.
McGonagall gestured to the letter with amusement. "Well, that says otherwise."
Snape didn't bother responding.
When he was back in his office, Snape pulled the letter out of the pocket of his cloak. He stared at the neatly written "Mr Severus Snape" on the envelope for a second, before deftly cutting through the flap with a letter opener.
Dear Severus,
Happy End of Term. I can only imagine how devastated you are to have to part with your precious students for an entire summer before you can see their innocent little faces again.
Snape snorted to himself.
I suppose I left in quite a hurry, before I could get myself tangled up in some legal mess. But I did want to have a few words with you.
First: I'm sorry. With all the sincerity I could possibly offer, I'm sorry. I should have said this earlier, when I could have said this to you in person, but I never could find the right words to say. I know I've apologized before, but I need to do it properly. I'm sorry I let James and Sirius do those things to you. I never said anything, but that makes me just as complicit. These are empty words now that can't change the past, but it would selfishly give me great comfort to think that one day you might forgive me, even just for your own sake.
Snape fought the urge to rip the letter into shreds. Not because he didn't think Lupin was being genuine: worse, he knew Lupin was being the most genuine he had ever been. And it infuriated Snape, because the apology he had waited so long to receive had come decades too late. He would rather he didn't get it at all.
But he kept reading.
I'm sorry I gave up our friendship without a single word of explanation. I was a coward then, and I'm probably a coward now. I think in a way, I was relieved to have a reason to stop hanging around you. I could be angry at you, believing that you had deliberately tried to out my secret, and I could finally choose a side. I wish I knew then that there were no sides, or at least, only the sides of the same coin.
Do you remember when we'd play that silly little divination game when we were in third year?
Did Snape remember? Of course he did. He remembered that slow, hot Tuesday as though it had happened last week, when classes were out and Potter and Black were in detention for something or other, and Pettigrew had slunk off to his dorm to take a nap. Lupin had walked into the library, and ignoring how Snape was pointedly not looking up to acknowledge him, sat in the seat across.
♢ ♢ ♢
"Go away. I'm studying."
"That much is obvious. You're always studying."
Snape glared at him over the book he was using to block Lupin out. "I have a History of Magic essay due on Thursday and a Charms exam on Friday," he said shrilly. "Some of us have things to do."
Lupin merely smiled. Snape was convinced he did that because he knew how much it annoyed him. "And a Divination essay too, don't forget."
Snape groaned and plunked his head into his book. He had forgotten. "I can't believe they still teach that here," he muttered. "What a load of unnecessary bullshit."
Lupin gasped in fake shock. "Severus, language! You know that Divination is the most reliable and credible branch of magic there is. Here," Lupin stood up with a flourish, "I'll show you."
Despite himself, Snape looked up in interest, but that quickly turned to annoyance when Lupin plucked the book out of his hand.
"Hey, give it back!"
Lupin ignored him and started flipping the pages with his eyes closed. "Tell me when to stop," he said.
"Stop," Snape said immediately in a bored tone.
Lupin stopped, and with his eyes still closed, jabbed a finger at random on the page he had opened to. "Whatever this sentence says describes how you're going to do on your Charms exam." He opened his eyes, and immediately doubled over laughing. "It says it's going to be an complete and utter failure!"
"You're a liar," Snape stood up to see. "No way it says that."
"It... does... too," Lupin said between fits of giggles. "Look!"
His finger had indeed landed exactly on the phrase, 'Although his efforts would be a complete and utter failure—'
Snape glared at Lupin. "Right, of course you just happened to stumble on the page about Fabian the Failure. Give that to me." He yanked the book out of Lupin's hands.
"This one," he said as he started flipping, "Is going to describe your career."
"Stop," Lupin said after a bit of flipping.
Snape opened his eyes and snorted. "Take that! '—would never come to fruition.'" He looked smugly at Lupin, but Lupin only dissolved further into laughter.
Snape put the book down, sat in his seat, and broke into laughter too. It was too stupid not to.
They took turns doing that for the rest of the afternoon using the various books on the shelves; "This one describes your friendships—" "This one describes your love life—" "This one describes your personality—" each time breaking into furtive laughter before finally being kicked out by the increasingly frustrated librarian.
"So you see," Lupin chortled as they stumbled outside onto the grounds, "Divination is a very accurate branch of magic."
"Okay well, I did fortell that your child would be a water buffalo, so maybe you're right—"
"Wait, wait, why a water buffalo?" Lupin gasped with another round of laughter. "What book was that?"
"It was the one on Baruffio," Snape giggled. "That guy had one serious buffalo issue, did you see how many chapters there are on him misincanting?"
"Poor guy," Lupin said. "Poor me, honestly, I'm gonna have to raise a water buffalo..."
Lupin stopped dead in his tracks, the mirth spilling off his face as though Impervious to laughter. "Bye," he said abruptly, and jogged ahead.
"Er—bye?" Snape said, the last few chuckles escaping him. He couldn't remember the last time he had actually laughed this hard.
And then he saw Potter and Sirius, and in the distance Pettigrew struggling to catch up, and he watched as Lupin went to go greet them without so much as a wave behind him.
The chuckles turned to hard pebbles that fell right back into his throat.
♢ ♢ ♢
I still remember the first two predictions we ever made. And I suppose we were right. You failed your Charms exam that week (the first and only test you failed, if I recall correctly—sorry for distracting you from studying), and my career never did come to fruition.
Funny how life works out like that. I guess I was right about Divination being a credible branch of magic... or perhaps the things we fortell are the paths we are already determined to take.
Anyway. I can't turn back time. All the Time-Turners in the world can't undo the horrible things I did. I'm sorry.
And another thing: I'm sorry for the harsh things I said to you before I left. It was not my intention to bring up painful memories. But I do hope you'll reconsider. I do hope you'll keep advocating for Harry. He deserves your support.
There is never a good enough reason to leave a child in an abusive home. Please remember that.
I hope you know that despite our history, despite everything, I still admire and respect you. It truly has been a pleasure working with you.
Regards,
Remus J. Lupin
Snape stared at the flourishing signature, then re-read those last two paragraphs for a long, long while.
He slowly looked up. Something moved in of the corner of his eye.
It was Harry's lemon tree. Despite there being no possibility of a draft, down here in the dungeons, its small leaves were swaying ever so slightly, glowing under the artificial sun charm Snape had put on it.
It wouldn't bear fruit for at least another three years. Maybe five, if they were lucky. It was still a small, stunted little thing, but wiry and determined. Like a certain someone Snape knew. And a lemon tree does not flower, does not bear fruit, does not keep growing, if it does not get water or sun from a kind hand.
Snape was not the kindest man. He had a green thumb, but a child was not a plant.
I can't, he thought. I'll make the same mistakes my father did. And then I will never forgive myself.
But could he do any more harm than the Dursley's already had?
The leaves trembled minutely, then went still.
Snape stared at the tree a second longer. And the next second, he was running, running as fast as he could.
The letter lay on his desk, unfurled and triumphant.
❝ take me back to a place we used to be
what if the real victory is knowing that
we will not make the same mistakes again?❞
a/n: david thewlis was okay as lupin, but consider this: DEAD POET SOCIETY ROBIN WILLIAMS
robin williams in DPS just has the right amount of passion for teaching, the kind but tired looking eyes tinged with sadness, just... PLEASE
i could never see david thewlis as lupin, it just didn't fit in my mind. sorry david :/
here's a robin williams picture dump to prove my point