Walk the Shadows

'It's Professor Lupin,' Snape said with a trace of his sneer. 'Again.'

'Oh, wow. That's great!' He stopped and gave Snape a worried look. 'I mean . . .'

Snape's face grew more stony. 'Don't for a minute try and make me think you're less than thrilled to have that wolf here,' he growled. 'Not for my sake.'

Harry bit his lip, not sure what to say. He knew Snape wanted the DADA position, everyone said so. . . . although he'd never heard it from Snape himself. Steeling himself for the inevitable explosion, he ventured, 'Well, don't you want to teach Defense?'

Shaking his head minutely, Snape's expression softened, just a little. 'I see all my efforts at rumor mongering did not go to waste.'

'Huh?'

'Succinct as always, Potter. And points off for illegal use of a blacklisted word. In answer to your . . . ill- phrased and nearly unintelligible question, I have never had the desire to teach Defense. I did, however, need for certain people to think that's what I wanted, and to believe that only Dumbledore's mistrust kept me from the position.'

Harry turned that information over in his mind. It made sense, in a way. 'And now you don't have to pretend anymore,' he said quietly.

'Indeed.' Snape pushed them along to the door, which was open a crack, and waited while Harry knocked.

A voice called, 'Come in!'

Snape started to turn away, when Harry caught at his sleeve. The Professor glared down at his hand, and Harry hastily removed it, but only after whispering, 'Please stay.'

Dark brows drew down over darker eyes, and Snape studied him for a long few moments, while Harry tried not to look away. Finally, he said, 'Very well,' and jutted his chin toward the door so Harry would open it.

Remus was most of the way to the door already, obviously wondering why someone had knocked and then not entered, and he broke into a grin as they came in. 'Harry! Good to see you!'

'You, too, Professor.' Harry backed up a step when Remus came close enough that it looked like he might want to give him a hug, and looked him over a bit. Remus looked worn and tired, more so than usual, and his hair had more gray in it than even a week ago, he was almost sure.

Without remarking on Harry's aversion to a tactile greeting, he backed off; Harry was very grateful. 'I see you heard,' he said with a glance at Snape, who was leaning against the wall near the door, arms crossed over his chest.

Harry smiled. 'Well, that and you being in this office.'

'Ah, yes. Quite a clue, that.' Remus turned and gestured to the seats by his desk, where he had talked with Harry last time he'd been a professor here, about Quidditch, and how to fight Dementors, and sometimes, about Harry's Mum and Dad. 'Come and sit down and I'll make tea.'

Harry sat, but with a look at Snape said, 'No tea, thanks,' and could've sworn Snape's lips twitched again.

'No? Well, maybe just some biscuits? I could have the House-elves send them up.'

'That'd be great, Professor, thanks.'

'Harry, you can still call me Remus, at least until classes start.'

With a smile, Harry said, 'Okay, thanks.'

A few minutes later, a House-elf had delivered a tray of ginger biscuits, and some shortbreads, with or without chocolate. Harry selected a chocolate one and nibbled at the edge as Remus said, 'Severus, won't you join us?'

With the air of someone pressed into a duty they loathe, Snape bent his head the merest bit in acknowledgement and sat down nearby. He held up a hand when Remus offered him the tray. Thinking about it, Harry could not remember ever seeing Snape indulge in sweets. He wondered, if, as his guardian, Snape would not allow Harry to have any, either. He'd have to ask, later. In the meantime, he would eat all the biscuits he wanted.

'How have you been, Harry? I asked Dumbledore a few times if I could see you, and he said you were well, but . . .'

'I'm doing okay, Remus.' He bit his lip and flicked a glance at Snape. 'Like I told you before, Professor Snape's been helping me.'

Remus leaned forward. 'With what, Harry? Please, I want to understand. You can tell me anything.'

Not this, Harry thought. Never this. 'It's um . . . I can't really talk about it.'

'You were hurt when you were captured, weren't you? What did they do to you?'

'I . . . I can't . . .'

'Lupin. Leave him alone.' Snape's voice, cold and cutting, saved Harry from his floundering, though Harry's chest was already tight and his face hot. 'He'll tell you about it when he wants to, or never if he doesn't.'

Remus sat back in his chair, startled. Then he shook his head. 'I'm sorry, Harry. I won't push. I was just very worried.'

''S'okay, Remus.' Harry swallowed, grateful for Snape's intervention, but wishing now he hadn't eaten the biscuit, as now his mouth was very dry. 'Really, I'm doing better.'

'Good, that's good.'