Severus barely recalled making his way to the reception or Portkeying out of the Fastness, but the sight that greeted him when he arrived at the shack, of Goyle sitting at the puny Guard's desk, definitely left a marked impression.

"Hallo Professor. D'you need some help Apparating back to the castle?"

To be seen in such a state by an individual for whom he held such contempt was intolerable; Severus drew up the little strength he had left, "Not if I wish to arrive in one piece." Then he girded himself against the residual pain, turned and Apparated.

He knew his destination; his determination and deliberation were sincere, but unfortunately his strength was lacking and it caused the injured wizard to arrive hundreds of yards shy of the front gates, which in turn placed him several hundred feet inside the Forbidden Forest.

That old injury to the nerve in his leg had been aggravated by the Cruciatus and it caused him to lose his footing, and fall on the mossy floor. It felt cool against his aching body and lured to him to stay and rest.

But it was a full moon this night, one month before the Spring Equinox, and the creatures of the forest were restless. Severus knew he couldn't linger so despite the protest of sore limbs and aching muscles, he pushed himself up to a standing position and began to limp toward the castle.

A lone Bicorn appeared suddenly from out of nowhere to block his path.

Severus tried to reach for his wand, but his arms and hands were trembling and disagreed vehemently to any movement. Before he could cast a spell the creature charged him and took a bite as she passed; her razor sharp teeth tore easily through the many layers of cloth.

Severus cried out in pain and fell back to the ground.

The Bicorn gulped down the small morsel of food, then turned and screeched her call of attack.

She pawed the ground and was just about to charge her prey, once again, when an enormous werewolf leapt out from between two trees. It landed on the panther-like creature, knocking her to the ground.

Through snarls and saliva, claws and fangs, the two creatures battled as Severus watched the whirl of fury and fur from his haze of pain. He tried valiantly to stand, but failed and sank instead back onto the mossy ground, capable only of awaiting his fate.

The werewolf, driven by an unfocused purpose, fought tenaciously even though he himself was wounded. He didn't want to eat the human and yet at the same time, he knew that this creature couldn't have this human either, so he clawed and battled for all he was worth.

A lucky bite tore open the Bicorn's tender throat and blood gushed from the wound, covering her chest and coloring the ground in sheets of red.

She staggered a few steps and then fell to the ground. Opening and closing her mouth, she tried to take a breath- or perhaps she was trying to call out. But instead, her remaining air slipped from her throat as bubbles in the oozing, pooling blood. 

The werewolf watched with a sense of ambivalence as the beast squirmed and then died. He felt no anger toward the creature, no rage, no desire to consume - there had only been that curious need to protect.

He then remembered the human, and turned to see the man huddled on the ground.

They looked upon each other - one in curiosity, the other in terror.

Snape stared up at the enormous wolf creature and, certain that his life was about to end, his thoughts flashed to Harry and how his death would affect the boy.

But then the werewolf did a curious thing.

 He padded closer and stared down at the human, not with animal fury in his eyes but with a sadness that reached out, begging for understanding.

Severus looked back into the haunted hazel eyes and, believing that Lupin was trying to communicate to him, reached out his shaking hand.

The werewolf allowed his touch for a moment but then it backed away and turned to face the forest. Setting its stance, it was as if the creature was preparing to stand guard to protect Severus throughout the night, from whatever creature might emerge next.

~~~~~SH~~~~~

"It'll be light soon," said Ron as he glanced over at the tall windows.

"Shhhh," whispered Hermione. She nodded to where Harry was sitting.

He'd finally fallen asleep in the squishy chair by the fireplace; that one had always been his favorite.

"Come over here," Ron mouthed silently and she tiptoed over to snuggle up close with him.

They'd taken turns all night, sitting up with Harry, whom was camped in the Gryffindor common room, waiting for any news about Severus.

He'd been missing for nearly thirty hours now. Slytherin had won their match sans their Head of House, his seat in the Slytherin box conspicuously empty.

Beside himself with worry, Harry had approached the Headmaster after the match had ended with Severus yet to be seen. The old wizard in turn delivered his usual advice - that Severus was skilled in these matters and not to fret. But as night approached and the spy had not yet returned, even Dumbledore acquiesced that something must have happened.

"There's nothing we can do, Harry, but wait."

He promised to contact the young wizard immediately should any news develop and encouraged him to return to Gryffindor Tower to wait.

But as the seconds ticked on and the minutes crept into hours, his vigil grew into an endless night of oppressive worry. Nigh along three in the morning, Harry had had enough.

"I've got to do something! I just can't just sit around and wait any longer. I've got to try and find him."

"Just where do you plan to start looking?" asked Hermione, afraid that he'd run off and do something foolish.

"I ... I don't know, maybe Hogsmeade; there's supposed to be one of those shacks somewhere around there."

"Yes, and the Ministry and the Order have been searching for it for weeks now. Please Harry, don't do this. Remember what happened when we raced off to the Minist..." she stopped herself and covered her lips with her fingers.

"Hermione!" the shock in Ron's voice reflected Harry's expression. "How could you ...?"

"Harry, I'm sorry." She tried to backpedal. "I can't believe I said that. Please ..."

"No. It's okay." He'd been about to sprint toward the porthole but Hermione's words nearly knocked the wind out of him. He sank hard onto the chair. "You're right, I was about to make that same mistake."

"Listen, we're all just tired," said Ron. "Maybe we should try to get some sleep."

"You two go on, I can't sleep."

"All right then," Ron sighed and dragged a hand through his mussed up hair. "We'll stay here with you."

"No. Go on. I'll be fine."

"No way, Harry. We're mates and we're gonna stay here with you."

~~~~~SH~~~~~

"Albus," called Phineas from his portrait. "Albus!" he called a little louder.

"Hmmm?" Dumbledore sat up sleepy-eyed. He'd fallen asleep on his bed fully clothed, having planned on closing his eyes for only a moment or two, but looking outside now, he realized that it was nearly dawn.

"He's back, Albus!"

"He is?" Dumbledore stood up, feeling stiff and tired. "Where is he? His quarters?"

"No. Hagrid took them to the hospital wing."

"Hagrid? But he was with ..." Then Dumbledore realized Phineas had said them.

"You should have seen it - Hagrid walking up the front lawn, one arm wrapped around each man, holding them up if you ask me."

"Each?"

"Snape and Lupin," Phineas said as though Dumbledore should have realized this fact already. "He took them to the infirmary. They're both injured."

"Dear Merlin, what has happened?"

"Shall I let Potter know?"

Dumbledore was halfway out his bedroom door but stopped suddenly. "No. Let me check on his condition first."

"All right, but don't dally. The boy has been quite worried."

"As have we all Phineas ... as have we all."

~~~~~SH~~~~~

In a blaze of golden light, Fawkes suddenly appeared in the boys' bathroom clutching a letter in his talons.

Harry had just pulled off his clothes to take a shower but snatched and quickly read the missive from Dumbledore regarding Severus' return. He threw his clothes right back on and ran as fast as he could down to the hospital wing, skipping steps and leaping onto staircases that had already begun to turn.

He slid to a stop just outside the doors to the infirmary, drew in a deep breath, Always maintain your composure, and then pulled open the door.

Madame Pomfrey was standing beside the first bed, pouring out a dose of Skele-Gro for Zacharias Smith, one of the casualties from the previous day's match, when Harry stepped into the infirmary.

"What have you done to yourself now, Mr. Potter?" asked the Mediwitch in response to his disheveled appearance.

"Wha ...Who, me? Nothing. I'm here to see Professor Snape."

"Last bed on the right. But he's sleeping so try not to disturb him."

"Yes Ma'am."

The hospital wing had never seemed as long as it did in those next few moments. Finally, he reached the privacy screen but instead of racing around the thing, he stopped.

All he'd wanted, for what had seemed like an eternity, was to see Sev and make certain he was all right. But now that the moment was at hand, he found he couldn't do it.

What's wrong with me?

Before he could answer his own question, Dumbledore stepped out from behind the screen and looked down at him with those clear blue eyes. "Sir, is he all right?"

The last time Albus Dumbledore had seen this look upon Harry's face was that time in St. Mungos - in Anthony Goldstein's hospital room, just after the attack on Samhain.

"He's going to be fine."

"Do you know what happened? Where he's been?"

Even though Dumbledore recounted the events in a reassuring tone, his words left Harry's heart pounding against his ribs. "And you're certain Remus didn't bite ..."

"Quite," he said with confidence. "Remus did not attack Severus. He saved his life."

Harry felt a hint of tears so he looked away, "Thanks for telling me, Sir."

"Are you all right?"

He kept his head turned away and, not trusting his voice, merely nodded.

"Very well then, I need to check in on Professor Lupin." Dumbledore patted the teen's shoulder then walked across the aisle and around the privacy screen just opposite that of Severus'.

Harry inched forward and peered around the screen and his whole being sighed with relief at the sight of the wizard lying on the bed, asleep.

He sat down in the chair next to the head of the bed and studied the familiar face. It seemed fine - though perhaps a bit paler than usual. Then Harry reached out hesitantly and wrapped his fingers around the potion stained hand lying so still upon the white sheet.

He felt the warmth that confirmed to him that Severus was indeed - okay. He wasn't dead. He wasn't going to be in a coma for the rest of his life ...

All of a sudden, the stress and worry from the long oppressive night welled up and spilled out in tears that rolled down his cheeks.

"Oh Sev ..." The words bounced along his shaky voice.

Severus' eyelids fluttered open.

Oh shit, I woke him up. "Shhh," Harry whispered. "Go back to sleep." He patted his hand lightly upon Severus' who in turn closed his eyes and drifted off.

~~~~~SH~~~~~

Harry stayed with Severus all that day, he himself falling asleep as he sat by the bed with his head lolled awkwardly off to the side. And when he awoke, it was to a sore back, a stiff neck and a pounding headache.

Madame Pomfrey had threatened that if he didn't go to the tower for a proper rest, she would issue him a set of striped pajamas and make him sleep there in the infirmary.

So, with a mild pain draught in hand and a promise from Severus that he'd see him in the morning, Harry headed off to the tower to sleep.

Later that evening after all the visitors had come and gone and the infirmary was settled and quiet, Severus sat up in his bed, sipping a cup of tea, as he pondered the events of the previous night.

The werewolf had behaved unlike Severus would have ever imagined.

Yes, he knew that Lupin had been taking the Wolfsbane potion on a regular basis and yes, he knew the effects it had on a werewolf.

But somehow, some part of Severus had believed that given the chance, Lupin - the werewolf would have attacked and tried to kill him, the events of the Shrieking Shack were still vivid in his mind even after all these many years.

Perhaps it was the emotional scar of that incident that had jaded his opinion of Lupin - the man. As Severus thought about this, he realized that he'd done the very same thing to Remus that he had done with Harry - he'd taken his bitter resentment of James Potter and Sirius and used Lupin as the scapegoat.

Severus sighed as he recognized his mistake.

He had acknowledged his error to Harry, years ago; perhaps it was time now to rectify matters with Remus.

He winced as he reached over, set the cup on the nightstand then pulled back the covers.

Severus guarded his arm close to his aching side as he limped down the length of the bed- the old injury to the nerve in his leg had been exacerbated from his bout with the Cruciatus, and as with the Bicorn wound- it too would take time to heal.

He made it across the aisle and stopped just shy of the privacy screen. "Lupin," he said softly. "Are you awake?"

"Yes," Remus' voice was a bit hoarse.

"May I speak with you?"

A moment's pause, but then he answered, "Yes."

Severus walked around the screen and regarded the man lying before him.

Remus had numerous scratches and wounds on his face and arms. Those were the only parts of him exposed, so there was no telling how many injuries the man had suffered about his body.

Severus limped over and sat down next to the bed. "I hope that your injuries are not too extensive."

"Well, as Poppy said - they're a long way from my heart."

They both tittered at the little joke, both feeling a bit uneasy in the other's presence. 

"Lupin, I ..."

"Remus ... please."

"Remus," Severus changed his address and drew in a fortifying breath- as best he could. "I want to thank you for saving my life."

The battered wizard could scarcely believe what he'd just heard, he looked up in silence and disbelief.

"I thought you were going to kill me," Severus continued. "But instead ..."

"Severus," Remus finally found his voice wanting desperately to grasp this opportunity to vindicate himself. "You have to believe me - I wasn't privy to Sirius' plan. I never would have allowed ..."

"I know," Severus interrupted. "I know that now." He looked unguarded into Remus' hazel eyes, the same eyes that had looked to him so imploringly, just the night before. "And I apologize for making you the object of my resentment - all these many years."

Remus took a slow, shaky breath and felt an enormous sense of relief wash over him as he exhaled. Then he eased his sore arm closer to the edge of the bed and offered his hand in good faith. "Is there any chance we could put this behind us?"

Severus stared down at the bruised hand reaching toward him. Half believing what he was doing, he raised his own and slipped it into Remus' week grasp. "Perhaps we could try."

 
~~~~~SH~~~~~