Remus Lupin, Pensieve Memory, 1975
Name: Remus Lupin
Format: Pensieve Memory
Date: 1975
Relevance: Proof of his lycanthropy. Memory reflects the impact the Shrieking Shack incident had on his life.
RP'ed with the greasy lovely, exsequeverus!
After being released from the hospital wing for his usual bout of lacerations, Remus decided to try and find Snape to smooth things over. It had been a far worse prank than anything his mates had cooked up before, but he was determined to make peace. If that were at all possible. Snape was not a sociable bloke by any stretch of the imagination, but now and again he had to leave the Slytherin dorm to study. His quest had not been a pleasant one, especially at the hands of the Slytherins, but with a little persuading and a lot of chocolate, he found Snape in the first place he should have looked: the library. Taking a deep breath, Remus approached with caution, exchanging an 'I hope you know what you're doing' look with Madam Pince. Clearing his throat to attract Snape's attention, Remus stood there humbly, hoping to Merlin Snape didn't round on him with a curse. "Uh, hullo, Severus. A word if you will?"
Snape's hand twitches at his voice--stirs once, and stills, deathly-still on its page like an animal crouching in long grass. A trailing edge of bandage on his wrist quivers--fear, coiled rage, a draft? His face gives no clue; his eyes on their slow rise to Remus's are arctic stone. He breathes once--in and out in silence, and his jaws muscles complain of tight teeth under their skin. It switches off suddenly, whatever it is roiling beneath obsidian gloss, and he is perfectly disinterested as he says, "If you must."
As if that were her cue to exit, Madam Pince went about her leisurely stroll, deterring those who wished to deface books or talk a hair above a whisper. When Remus was certain she was out of earshot, he began the arduous process of apologising to Snape, figuring he'd wing it if Snape didn't respond accordingly. "Well, um, I thought I'd find you to uh...apologise for the incident at the Shrieking Shack. I'd never do anything intentionally to harm you with my uh...condition. I thought maybe we could um, y'know, possibly make a go at being friends?" Reluctantly but amiably, Remus offered his hand as a gesture of good will.
Snape stared at him. An eyebrow began a slow crawl up his forehead. "Lupin," he drawled, still disinterested, not entirely unkind. "Go back to the hospital wing. I give it 60:40 you're concussed."
Remus laughed at that, not entirely surprised that Severus refused to shake his hand. Still, he wore the smile and his hand hovered in the air. His mother had taught him never to accept 'no' as a first answer. "They gave me a clean bill of health. We've a paper due for Transfigurations. Perhaps we could share ideas? Solitary study gets a bit boring after while. I'd welcome the company."
Eyeing him narrowly, Snape's expression thaws just the degree or two it takes to let a careful observer see suspicion and pity seesawing idly behind his eyes. "Who's fooling who here, Lupin? You lot me, or you yourself?"
For a moment, Remus considered dropping his hand, but instead he raised it a degree, straightening the bend in his arm. "I'm here alone, Severus. James and Sirius are not skulking in the shadows nearby. In fact, if they knew I came here looking for you, I'm sure I'd never hear the end of it. They're my mates and all, but I don't always agree with their actions. My apology's sincere if you'll have it. As is my offer to study. Isn't it time we ended this rift?" Remus watched Severus carefully, noting the lines of worry on his forehead relaxed a little before they creased again with the onset of suspicion.
"And why on earth I should believe in them when you know damn well they're made of nothing but air. If you were credible, you'd be doing this where your 'mates' could see you taking a stand. What are you proposing, Lupin? Secret study sessions, and meanwhile you keep hiding behind your book while your excellent friends humiliate me in public? Thank you for your generous offer, and I do appreciate that you wouldn't have liked yourself much without making the gesture, but I'm not interested in gestures. If you mean it, you'll show me something real, and I'll give it all the attention it deserves. If you don't," he shrugged, with assumed sympathy that didn't quite cover his disdain, "well, you tried, and no doubt you'll sleep all the better for it."
Remus lay in bed all night, musing on the past couple of days. They had been rough ones, and Remus had neglected his studies as well as his appetite.
The idea that another boy knew about his lycanthropy was unsettling enough without the realisation that he had almost killed Snape. Why had he been so nosy to follow? Were the four of them so interesting? Was he spying for the whole of Slytherin? No matter how many times Remus had dissected the idea in his mind, he could neither piece it back together nor make sense of it.
Remus had always been the mediator. Could always bring peace after a row. But this time he was helpless to fix the situation. It would never heal, only scab and scar. How fitting, he thought, gingerly touching the new scar that crossed his cheek.
Tossing and turning miserably for the remainder of the night, Remus tried to put the incident out of his mind.
But Snape was only the first of what would be a lifetime of painful reminders.
Format: Pensieve Memory
Date: 1975
Relevance: Proof of his lycanthropy. Memory reflects the impact the Shrieking Shack incident had on his life.
RP'ed with the greasy lovely, exsequeverus!
After being released from the hospital wing for his usual bout of lacerations, Remus decided to try and find Snape to smooth things over. It had been a far worse prank than anything his mates had cooked up before, but he was determined to make peace. If that were at all possible. Snape was not a sociable bloke by any stretch of the imagination, but now and again he had to leave the Slytherin dorm to study. His quest had not been a pleasant one, especially at the hands of the Slytherins, but with a little persuading and a lot of chocolate, he found Snape in the first place he should have looked: the library. Taking a deep breath, Remus approached with caution, exchanging an 'I hope you know what you're doing' look with Madam Pince. Clearing his throat to attract Snape's attention, Remus stood there humbly, hoping to Merlin Snape didn't round on him with a curse. "Uh, hullo, Severus. A word if you will?"
Snape's hand twitches at his voice--stirs once, and stills, deathly-still on its page like an animal crouching in long grass. A trailing edge of bandage on his wrist quivers--fear, coiled rage, a draft? His face gives no clue; his eyes on their slow rise to Remus's are arctic stone. He breathes once--in and out in silence, and his jaws muscles complain of tight teeth under their skin. It switches off suddenly, whatever it is roiling beneath obsidian gloss, and he is perfectly disinterested as he says, "If you must."
As if that were her cue to exit, Madam Pince went about her leisurely stroll, deterring those who wished to deface books or talk a hair above a whisper. When Remus was certain she was out of earshot, he began the arduous process of apologising to Snape, figuring he'd wing it if Snape didn't respond accordingly. "Well, um, I thought I'd find you to uh...apologise for the incident at the Shrieking Shack. I'd never do anything intentionally to harm you with my uh...condition. I thought maybe we could um, y'know, possibly make a go at being friends?" Reluctantly but amiably, Remus offered his hand as a gesture of good will.
Snape stared at him. An eyebrow began a slow crawl up his forehead. "Lupin," he drawled, still disinterested, not entirely unkind. "Go back to the hospital wing. I give it 60:40 you're concussed."
Remus laughed at that, not entirely surprised that Severus refused to shake his hand. Still, he wore the smile and his hand hovered in the air. His mother had taught him never to accept 'no' as a first answer. "They gave me a clean bill of health. We've a paper due for Transfigurations. Perhaps we could share ideas? Solitary study gets a bit boring after while. I'd welcome the company."
Eyeing him narrowly, Snape's expression thaws just the degree or two it takes to let a careful observer see suspicion and pity seesawing idly behind his eyes. "Who's fooling who here, Lupin? You lot me, or you yourself?"
For a moment, Remus considered dropping his hand, but instead he raised it a degree, straightening the bend in his arm. "I'm here alone, Severus. James and Sirius are not skulking in the shadows nearby. In fact, if they knew I came here looking for you, I'm sure I'd never hear the end of it. They're my mates and all, but I don't always agree with their actions. My apology's sincere if you'll have it. As is my offer to study. Isn't it time we ended this rift?" Remus watched Severus carefully, noting the lines of worry on his forehead relaxed a little before they creased again with the onset of suspicion.
"And why on earth I should believe in them when you know damn well they're made of nothing but air. If you were credible, you'd be doing this where your 'mates' could see you taking a stand. What are you proposing, Lupin? Secret study sessions, and meanwhile you keep hiding behind your book while your excellent friends humiliate me in public? Thank you for your generous offer, and I do appreciate that you wouldn't have liked yourself much without making the gesture, but I'm not interested in gestures. If you mean it, you'll show me something real, and I'll give it all the attention it deserves. If you don't," he shrugged, with assumed sympathy that didn't quite cover his disdain, "well, you tried, and no doubt you'll sleep all the better for it."
Remus lay in bed all night, musing on the past couple of days. They had been rough ones, and Remus had neglected his studies as well as his appetite.
The idea that another boy knew about his lycanthropy was unsettling enough without the realisation that he had almost killed Snape. Why had he been so nosy to follow? Were the four of them so interesting? Was he spying for the whole of Slytherin? No matter how many times Remus had dissected the idea in his mind, he could neither piece it back together nor make sense of it.
Remus had always been the mediator. Could always bring peace after a row. But this time he was helpless to fix the situation. It would never heal, only scab and scar. How fitting, he thought, gingerly touching the new scar that crossed his cheek.
Tossing and turning miserably for the remainder of the night, Remus tried to put the incident out of his mind.
But Snape was only the first of what would be a lifetime of painful reminders.