Title: The Cure

Chapter: 1. Unexpected

Author: MajinSakuko

E-Mail: MajinSakukoyahoo.de

Beta-Reader: drusillasrain, Xterm

Dedicated to: Vaughn, because I nicked a sentence – no, she allowed it ;)

and Mister Cellophane, 'cause I just realised he could think I stole his plot, which I didn't!

Disclaimer: I own nothing, JKR everything else

Fandom: Harry Potter

Pairing/Main-Chara: RL/SS

Rating: PG-13

Genre/s: Drama, Romance (Slash)

Warning/s: C/D, OOC, Remus' POV!

Summary: Hogwarts, 7th year, after Harry defeated Voldemort, Severus has lots of spare time, and Remus finds himself subject to unforeseen advances.

A/N: And very special greetings to PERSEPHONE LUPIN

"Don't even presume that this has been my idea," Severus snarled, fists clenched at his sides.

"No, no," muttered Remus with a gentle smile, "I'd never."

He'd never presume Severus could like or even merely stand him, he'd never imagine Severus could do something – especially of this magnitude – for him, and he'd never presume Severus could find it in himself to sacrifice his free time to free Remus of his inner beast. Never. Until now.

Remus hadn't settled into his new life yet but he knew exactly what he needed to put the finishing touches to it – Severus was standing right in front of him, he was alive, he was well and he wouldn't put so much distance between them for much longer if Remus could help it.

"Dumbledore," growled Severus, giving the impression of rolling his eyes skywards though he kept his chilly gaze fixed on Remus' face, "obviously has forgotten what it means to have to try and teach those dunderheads he refers to as students. After the Dark Lord's downfall their attention spans are even more microscopic than before."

"I see," said Remus. "But you can't hold it against them, can you? Don't you feel like celebrating, as well? I mean, our generation really hasn't known anything but war. And now that it's over-"

"I am celebrating," Severus snapped, interrupted the werewolf, "silently! And I would like to continue doing so, were I not forced to spend my time with you!" The Potions master brought the whole 'spitting venomously' thing to an entirely new level, and were it not for the fact that Remus knew that Severus' 'you' meant him, he would be forced to believe that he was referring to something slimy, disgusting and/or revolting.

"I'm sure I'll enjoy your company as much as you will enjoy mine," Remus said softly.

Severus glared at him. "I'd rather not stay in the same room as you, don't get me wrong. However, I will do what I have to. And you will do what I tell you, understood? If you try to interfere with my work, I won't continue, clear?"

"Crystal clear." Remus smiled. "Anything else I have to know?"

Severus' glare turned suspicious. "That also means your brainless, happy seizures. I know, the Dark Lord's dead and that everyone is celebrating around you, but do try and stay serious!"

Remus sighed, his expression turning sombre. Trust Severus to be as difficult as he can manage. "I am serious; you have no idea how much so. I know that the sole reason that you agree to try and brew the potion for me is that it challenges you," well, he was not absolutely convinced of the fact, "but for me it means freedom of my curse. Do you have the slightest idea how much that means for me?"

"No," said Severus coolly, "and I don't plan to find out. You're right, however, even if it pains me to admit it, the challenge is what made me relent to Dumbledore's request. Your personal gain is of no interest for me."

Remus sighed inwardly. The challenge might be what Severus was anticipating but Remus wanted to change that. His challenge was solving the riddle of the man in front of him. The Potions master was so contradictory, a paradox of his very own, an enigma Remus was looking forward to unravelling.

"Would you care to enlighten me of some of the details of the potion?" Remus asked. "I could make us some tea."

"This is not a social call, so don't try to make this more bearable by sipping your tasteless camomile brew."

"Your company isn't unbearable, Severus," said Remus with a frown.

"Unfortunately, I find myself unable to return this sentiment with a clear conscience."

"Thanks." Remus huffed silently. "And even if my camomile tea were tasteless – which I really have to disagree with – you can always sweeten it."

"Sweets are Dumbledore's area," Severus replied stiffly, "and chocolate doesn't blend too well with tea."

Remus rolled his eyes secretly as he turned around. "So, no tea, I'll refrain from asking whether you want some cookies, then." He gathered a couple of scrolls that lay scattered over his armchair, putting them onto the small wooden desk in the middle of his living room. Quickly, he tidied the area so as to not let the Potions master wait for much longer – Merlin knew not to mess with his temper. "How long do you suppose you'll need to work out the potion's formula?" he asked as soon as he was ready, indicating with an arm movement for Severus to sit down.

The other man remained standing and frowned; his eyes followed Remus' movements as the werewolf lowered himself into his favourite, well-used armchair. "It will take as much time as it needs. I can tell you for sure, though, it won't hurry the progress along if you deem it prudent to lounge," his mouth curled into a distasteful sneer at that, "and offer food and beverages while you could already be useful – however insignificant your input might be."

"What kind of input do you need from me?" Remus asked curiously. Actually, he had thought Severus would only need him to test the final potion. "How can I help you?"

Pulling a small notepad, a quill and a bottle of ink from his inner robe pocket, Severus proceeded to ask some previously formulated questions, ranging from, "What are the exact differences between the transformation with and without Wolfsbane?" to, "How does the wolf influence the mind during the rest of the month, meaning not on the full moon?"

Remus carefully answered every question, his skin tingling with every word leaving his mouth. He hadn't known he could feel so hopeful, in more than one way. Severus was with him, trying to brew the cure for his lycanthropy. Years earlier, the Potions master wouldn't have done it, even if Dumbledore had tried to force him to. But now ...

Remus willed himself to only smile inwardly, not wanting to drive Severus away. He had had this strange kind of crush on the surly, dark man for the longest time. Voldemort's downfall was the sign of a new beginning, and Remus would do anything in his might to make it come true.

The way Severus acted now left Remus feeling peculiarly light-headed. Was it possible that the Potions master reciprocated his feelings? Could he also sense the tentative bonds forming around and between them? Remus was almost optimistic; he only hoped his anxious thoughts weren't displayed openly on his face – or in his mind, for that matter, since Severus was a skilled Legilimens.

"Was that all or do you need to know anything else?"

"That's all for now," Severus replied absently as he quickly looked through his notes before putting his writing equipment back into his robes. "I shall require a small blood sample, though. Come tomorrow at seven in the morning to my office, and if you can manage, on an empty stomach, and yes that includes not having any chocolate – even in the highly unlikely case you were to stumble across a Dementor on school grounds."

"The best part, then, huh?" Remus gave a half-smile. "Didn't know you'd save it."

"The best's always for last," said Severus coldly. "Let it be – now." There was a tentative promise to his words, one Remus couldn't ignore, even if he only projected the meaning he wanted to hear.

Severus prepared himself to leave and Remus leapt to his feet and into action, his body taking over direction, for his mind was too slow to follow. This was a perfect opening, his mouth formed words his brain was too slow to think through before.

"But sometimes," he spluttered hastily, grabbing Severus' sleeve in a firm if clumsy grip to prevent him from leaving, "sometimes that's not a very wise decision!" He didn't know what Severus' words meant, whether he believed himself to be the best, or whether he thought piercing Remus with needles would be the best part of the potion invention, or if he was just saying something to keep Remus thinking so he could ensure his quick escape. But it didn't matter because thinking was not on Remus' immediate agenda anyway.

Or was it? The werewolf didn't know, his thoughts were swirling, trying to discern whether his next move would be his downfall, whether his next move was a wise decision. But he shouldn't be trying to talk himself into it when there was still Severus to convince of the importance.

And before he knew it, Remus was again babbling in a mad rush as if he were afraid to lose his widely known – and often despised - Gryffindor courage the second he slowed down enough to take a breath. Babbling about things that should make no sense to anyone but those who had access to the turmoil in his mind, babbling about things too perfect that even Remus hadn't thought they could ever happen to him. He didn't care if he sounded like a desperate fool, he couldn't have prevented it anyway, and he just wanted Severus to stay a few more moments so he could bring him to stay even longer.

"Because sometimes when you save the best for last and you try and do everything else before it and then, before you even had the chance to realise what has happened in the first place, you find yourself sated, not hungry anymore, and you're forced to leave the best, which you fought and longed so desperately for, for someone else – or let it go to waste ..." Remus trailed off, eyes wide in a mixture of fright and pride of his own daring, and he willed himself still. It wouldn't do to start crying, to boot, and cling onto Severus like a leech – more than he already did, that was.

"I sense there should have been a point somewhere – though I doubt, lacking the obviously needed Gryffindor mind, I could pinpoint exactly what it was," Severus drawled, flicking his gaze to where Remus was still holding his sleeve. "Had I even suspected the true extent of your mental disorder I wouldn't have stayed long enough in your presence to allow-"

Remus' hands snapped upwards, grasping the collar of Severus' waistcoat, and tugged him down harshly. He didn't need to hear the next acerbic words spilling from Severus' mouth; he would disregard it for the time being, as he was intent on bringing those thin, angry lips and the barbed, hurtful tongue to much better use.

He was half a head smaller than the Potions master but he'd be damned if he'd let himself be discouraged by that fact.

It was simply the joining of two pairs of lips, though the term 'simply' was quite disputable. The meeting was rather clumsy, mostly due to the fact that Remus did all the work, holding Severus in place and that said Potions master was momentarily frozen in place, clearly taken off-guard. His lips were weak, in contrast to his posture, even though slightly hunched over, and Remus daringly nudged the tip of his tongue in between those lips to take a taste of something that had been enticingly out of his reach for the longest time.

Remus' heart raced, pumping the blood at top speed through his veins, making it buzz in his ears. He wasn't sure whether he heard anything, whether there were wet sliding noises, whether he – or better yet, Severus – moaned into the kiss. There was only the overly loud thumping in his chest he could register, and as his fingertips brushed softly against Severus' neck, suspiciously close to his pulse, he realised with something akin to satisfaction that the other man's heart rate had sped up as well.

And as suddenly as it had started, the bubble burst just as abruptly – or at least acquired quite a dent.

Severus ripped himself free, holding Remus at arm's length, the palm of his right hand pressing firmly into the werewolf's chest. His own chest was heaving in laboured breathing, lips drawn back into a vicious snarl, normally shallowly cheeks spotted angry red marks, and his eyes glistered irritably from between slitted lids.

"What do you think you're doing, werewolf?" he spat angrily, wiping his mouth with his left hand. "I don't even know where your filthy mouth has been earlier – not that I want to know! Keep your bloody paws to yourself or I'll blow off the potion making - meddling Dumbledore or not! Have I made myself clear or should I rephrase it into easier terms so that even your underprivileged mind can wrap itself around it!"

Severus was seething; Remus felt the hand trembling as it pressed against his chest to keep him at distance. However, he wasn't entirely certain whether the hand should stop the werewolf or him, Remus, from coming too near.