Potions and Snitches
Snape and Harry Gen Fanfiction Archive

Evening Visit

The careful balance of their quartet was upset by the arrival of a fifth guest on the day of the summer solstice. Remus Lupin shook himself free of soot as he stepped out of the Floo late in the evening.

Harry was delighted to see his old Defence Against the Dark Arts professor again. Former Hogwarts Marauder Remus Lupin was Harry’s last link to his deceased father and godfather, and it had been too long since he’d last seen him. He was up on his feet and into the man’s outstretched arms before he knew it. “Remus,” he said. “So good to see you.”

The sandy-haired wizard must have felt equally happy to see him for he grabbed a fistful of Harry’s shirt to hug him close. “As am I, Harry. As am I.” Then he held him at arms-length to peer into his beaming face. “How are you, my boy?”

Harry could do little else but smile as he looked into Remus’ kind, warm eyes. “I’m okay,” he replied. “It’s really good to see you.”

And he wasn’t the only one happy to see their visitor. Saturnine joined them an instant later. And her hand briefly brushed Harry’s shoulder before sneaking around the werewolf’s back as she dragged him into a hug of her own, kissing his cheek as she did. “Hi, Remus. Long time, no see, old friend.”

Remus kissed her back, then briefly closed his arms around her shoulders as if her quick hug hadn’t been enough, and he needed a bit more of her. “Good to see you, too, ’Nine. How have you been?”

Behind them, on the sofa, Draco barely lifted his head from the Transfiguration book he was reading. Their taciturn Potions professor wasn’t in the room, which Harry realised was probably for the best, given the two Hogwarts alumni’s nebulous past.

Unlike the previous summer, Remus hadn’t come by even once for afternoon tea and board games. Harry was no fool, and he knew this had everything to do with Professor Snape’s presence at Cove Cottage. During the year Remus had taught at Hogwarts, Snape had made no secret of his intense dislike for his new colleague. And later on, Harry had learned that his own father, James Potter, and his best friend at the time, Sirius Black, had been particularly cruel to the Potions professor when the three of them were Hogwarts students. While it was true that, in comparison, teenage Remus Lupin hadn’t done much to hurt Snape, he hadn’t done anything to help him out either.

Sparing a thought for Saturnine, Harry wondered how she would feel if the two wizards ever were to engage in a duel. And who she would side with? Come to think of it, he wondered what the Potions Master thought of his sister’s choice of best friend and how he’d taken the news when he found out—if he had.

“What are you doing here?” Saturnine asked eagerly, her tone betraying her need to ascertain if this was a social visit or if there was more to it.

Remus’ smile faltered at her words, and Harry understood that to mean this was no social call. When the man’s warm brown eyes momentarily flicked over Draco, Harry felt something go cold inside him.

Saturnine must have noticed, too. “What’s going on?” she asked, searching Remus’ gaze.

“It’s probably best that we sit down,” the werewolf said, pointing to the space behind them. “All of us.”

Saturnine understood his words for what they were, and she was out of the room an instant later. It had to be dire, Harry realised, if Remus Lupin had requested the presence of Severus Snape of his own free will.

His former Defence teacher was all smiles again as he sat in the armchair, and Harry perched himself on the edge of the coffee table, facing him.

“How is your summer going, Harry?” Remus asked. “Are you working on your homework?”

Harry nodded because yes, he was. He had already completed his Herbology assignment, and he would start on Transfiguration next. Like last year, he would keep his dreaded Potions essay for last. And who knew? Maybe this time it would be graded come September—unlike last year’s, which apparently still remained ‘under review’ some ten months later.

“Good, good,” Remus said, and Harry was surprised to see that his old friend only had eyes for him. It was as if Draco wasn’t even in the room. Harry felt that it was a little rude, which was uncharacteristic of his former teacher. The spring in Harry’s belly coiled a bit tighter.

“How’s everyone else?” he asked, fishing for some distraction from his anguish.

“Oh, they’re well. I was with Tonks yesterday—she says ‘Wotcher!’ by the way,” he said with a loud chuckle, and Harry could tell Remus’ cheer was forced. “Saw the Weasleys last weekend, and Hermione—she’s staying there for the summer, apparently.”

Harry knew that. He’d gotten a letter from her the day before last telling him all about it. After two weeks spent vacationing in the south of France with her parents, Hermione had moved to the Burrow for the remainder of the summer holidays. It sounded like she was spending her time assisting Mrs Weasley and revising for next year’s N.E.W.T.s, while Ron pestered her about Quidditch and other nonsense.

Harry was happy his two best friends were having such a good time and that their relationship was progressing nicely. After all they’d been put through, all they’d done and sacrificed for him, they deserved all the happiness they could get and a chance to enjoy life a little. It was time Ron and Hermione got the freedom to act their age without the weight of responsibilities better suited to adults’ shoulders. It also looked like things were getting serious between the two—even if Hermione still shared a bedroom with Ginny whenever she stayed at the Burrow.

“Moody’s still his old self,” Remus continued. “Constant Vigilance!” he mimicked the older wizard’s familiar mantra, eliciting another smile from Harry.

Their banter was put to rest with the return of Saturnine. She had an arm wrapped around her brother’s waist and one of his draped around her shoulders. But it appeared the man was walking on his own steam, and Saturnine was only there as a preemptive safety measure. The potioneer still looked deathly pale and abnormally tired. But he was getting better—little by little, day by day.

Professor Snape was dressed in a simple pair of black cotton trousers and an equally dark long-sleeved jumper reminiscent of his Hogwarts attire. It was what he’d worn every time he’d come out of the bedroom, and Harry had been tempted to make a joke out of it once or twice. But survival instincts had kicked in at the last second each time, and he’d held his tongue.

Remus tensed beside Harry, and his Potions professor’s reaction was similar as the siblings neared the sofa. But at least no insults flew while the two men briefly regarded each other like a pair of Hippogriffs sizing each other up.

Saturnine helped her brother sit in the middle of the sofa before sitting down herself on his left in the spot closest to Remus’ armchair. Draco remained where he’d been all along, in the spot furthest away from the werewolf. Harry was forced to stay on the coffee table as he waited for the chips to fall. There was no room left for him. This wasn’t a cottage designed for five—it was decidedly a cottage for four.

“Evening, Severus,” Remus said with the slightest upward curl of his lips.

“Lupin,” Snape drawled out the name, and Saturnine discreetly nudged his elbow in protest. A silent plea to play nice.

“I’m sorry to say this, but I come with some bad news,” Remus started. And that got everyone’s attention. Even Draco closed his book.

“Has something happened?” Saturnine asked, leaning forward a little.

“Several aweful things,” Remus answered, and his face was joyless. It was cold and drawn, and the look felt utterly wrong on him—as did the agonising pain radiating from his brown eyes. Whatever had happened, it had been bad. And then he started to speak.

“There was an attack in central London early this morning,” Remus said. “The Dark Mark appeared over the city. And moments later, a small group of Death Eaters stormed through Charing Cross Road and the Leaky Cauldron. There were at least six of them—all masked and cloaked, of course. They broke into Diagon Alley and ransacked Fortescue’s Ice Cream Parlour. They killed the owner, Florean Fortescue, before assaulting Ollivander’s. From the reports I heard, they stole stacks of wands and roughened up poor Ollivander. But he’s expected to make a full recovery.”

Saturnine gasped. “Sweet Circe.”

“It gets worse,” Remus continued. “While that was occurring, another team of Death Eaters destroyed a suspension bridge over the Thames. They flew around it in a spiral motion to create a twisting and buckling movement on the walkway before they fired blasts onto the bridge. The cables snapped, and the bridge twisted so intensely that it pulled free of its piers and ultimately split in half before crashing violently into the river below.” He shook his head regretfully. “All the Muggles crossing the bridge at the time were killed.”

Remus’ words left the habitants of Cove Cottage livid, all four a matching set of pale faces and drawn features. The silence that fell over the room was heavy with finality as each contemplated the sheer horror of what they had been told. The death toll was unimaginable. The consequences were unfathomable. The reason for it was easily traced back to the three wizards and witch present in the room. Their quartet was the sole reason this attack had happened. It had been perpetrated in direct retaliation to their actions. They all knew it.

Harry felt his breakfast, lunch, and supper wanting to reappear. People had died because Saturnine and Severus Snape had chosen to come and save Draco and him—innocent people.

A wave of intense feelings surged within Harry, and he felt bile rise in his throat. It took an effort of will to keep it down. Hating being made to sit on the coffee table alone, he shot to his feet. He felt removed from the rest of the group, and he couldn’t take it anymore. He moved to perch himself on the arm of the sofa instead, close by Saturnine’s side.

The dark-haired witch briefly glanced up at him, snatched his right hand, and held it tightly in her left. Harry felt better right away and noticed he wasn’t the only one who had felt the need to feel connected to the group. Further down the sofa, his Potion’s professor had also sought one of his sister’s hands, and she had given it to him discreetly.

“There’s more to it, isn’t there?” Professor Snape asked. Though his words had been soft-spoken, his deep voice had cut through the silence like a sharp blade.

Harry gulped as he read the answer in Remus’ face before the man’s lips had time to form the words. There was more—and somehow, it was worse than everything they’d heard so far. When his sorrowful brown eyes flickered to Draco again, Harry felt fear grip his insides.

The young Gryffindor had the urge to beg Remus not to say anything—to simply shut up. He felt like throwing Floo Powder in the grate and pushing the werewolf through the green flames so they could all remain ignorant.

He wanted to return to their quiet morning breakfasts at the kitchen table. He wanted the evening chats with Saturnine by the fire. He wanted to ask Draco how his homework was coming along, and he wanted to get to know his Potions professor better. He wanted the balanced comfort they had found with each other to be permitted to grow.

Cove Cottage’s fifth guest would shatter that, Harry knew. He just knew it. So, he willed the sandy-haired wizard not to ruin everything. But Remus started to speak, and the world came crashing down around them.


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