harry potter; Stirred, Not Shaken | Remus/Sirius, Remus & Lily

[kitsuneasika.livejournal.com]

Title: Stirred, Not Shaken
Pairing: Remus Lupin/Sirius Black, onesided Severus Snape/Lily Evans, James Potter/Lily Evans
Friendship: Remus & Lily, the Marauders
Wordcount: 2590
Summary: Remus Lupin sinks into his memories. Severus Snape stirs them up. Post-Halloween 1981.
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter in any shape or form.
Notes: This breaks canon a little bit— I was in the middle of rereading the series when I was writing this and had not yet gotten to the sixth book, so I didn't realize that JKR had named the person who made the Wolfsbane Potion. I mainly wrote this because I adore the idea of Remus and Lily being close friends and apparently I am addicted to writing angst.

Crossposting to mission_insane.

Stirred, Not Shaken

He could feel Snape's eyes on him, impatient and harsh, and took another sip of his tea. It burned his mouth, his fingers, his throat, thin and bitter. Overstewed, and somehow he'd managed to forget the sugar. He's used to never forgetting anything— "Steel trap, that one," James said, clapping a hand on his shoulder— and these days the memories swirled around him, thick and hot, until he could hardly breathe.

It would be a nice thing, forgetting.

He couldn't avoid Snape forever, though, and finally he set down the tea cup— lilac flowers around the edge, Lily would have hated it, would have claimed that they were all teasing her— and looked up at him.

"Why are you asking me?" he asked, mildly. He doesn't like looking at Snape. Millions of memories swell up when he does, most of them tinted with a hot flush of shame and none of them pleasant, least of all the only one he doesn't actually recall. The one that should have told him, should have warned him about what kind of person Sirius was, or at least would be, if he'd only listened.

Snape snorted. "Because I know so many werewolves," he said, dripping acid. Remus didn't speak, didn't even move. Near-identical tendrils of stream rose from two mostly-untouched cups of tea. He didn't take his eyes off of the wall beyond Snape.

Finally, Snape relented. "Dumbledore suggested that you may be intterested," he said, lips curling into a patented sneer. "He said that you might— wish— to see the results of your— friend's work."

It took him a moment to put together what Snape had said. When he did, the knowledge struck him hard, like bricks from the sky.

"Lily?" he gasped out, voice almost breaking as his control slipped, just for a moment. Lily, at his bedside after a full moon, her smile at once tired and sweet— "How does it feel? Does that help? I added mint to the tea this time"— James, laughing to cover the worry in his eyes— "Should have been a Healer, Lily," he teased, "Better than working with those nasty potions"— Lily, sticking her tongue out at him with a mischievious grin he hadn't seen in months— James, walking over and kissing that grin away, hands caressing the swell of her belly before dipping down— Lily's laugh, bright and high, as she swatted his hands away— "Not in front of Remus! Have some respect for your sick friends!"— And then Sirius, leaning against the doorway with that easy grin— "I don't know, he'll probably enjoy it. Our Moony is kinkier than you'd think"—

Snape nodded, tightly. "She was working on a variety of potions, before," he said, his voice carefully wiped of emotion. He reached into his robes— Remus had to force himself not to tense— and pulled out a thin, stained book. This he placed on the table between them.

"That's Lily's," Remus said, recognizing it instantly. How could he not, when he had been the one to buy it for her— Merlin, had it really been so long ago? It was one of the last Christmases before Harry. She hadn't even been pregnant yet, freshly married. He'd found those notebooks on sale, and had remember how Lily had been complaining about how disorganized writing notes on bits of parchment was, but how she'd hated spiral notebooks with a passion. She'd actually squealed when she'd opened the wrapping and James had groaned, casting his eyes skyward— before then, Remus had never felt like he'd gotten someone something good, something that they'd actually wanted.

He looked at the notebook, then at Snape. "You've been finishing her potions," he said, with a sudden clarity. He'd thought for years that there was something more to Snape's failed friendship with Lily. He'd never said anything— James would have only gotten jealous, Sirius would have gotten nasty, and Peter would have followed them, as he always had.

He thought of Snape, searching he pages for traces of the woman he'd loved, the closest he would ever get to her, and a sudden wave of pity washed over him.

Snape tightened his lips together, then stood, his robes billowing around him. It probably frightened his students immensely when he did that, Remus reflected.

"I expect this to be returned," Snape said shortly, gesturing at the book. "Give me your answer then." With a sharp crack, he Disapparated.

Remus sat there for a moment longer, then stood, clearing away Snape's side of the table and pouring his untouched tea down the drain. He cringed at the waste of perfectly good tea, but some things died hard— he just couldn't bring himself to drink from a cup handled by Severus Snape.

"Ugh," James said, wrinkling his nose. "Snivellus germs— ow!" he yelped, clutching his shoulder as an irate Lily Evans stalked away from the table.

The memory— fifth year, if he recalled correctly— forced up a half-smile. He turned away from the sink, his eyes automatically moving towards the innocuous book laying on the table. He took a breath to steady himself and his suddenly shaking hands, then released it in slow, measured beats before doing it again.

Lily's handwriting, thin, looping, messy in the neatest way possible, greeted him when he finally sat down and opened the book. Sudden tears pricked at his eyes, and he quickly blinked them away. He would not cry.

The first page was an index of sorts. There were no page numbers, only descriptive titles and the faint hum of magic. He recognized the spell— one of the many James had fashioned in his quest to use all he had learned in the making of the Marauder's Map in order to help Lily. He fumbled for his wand, eyes scanning the titles— something to stop those blasted rashes that Harry gets, one read; keeping Sirius from ruining my couch read another— "Sirius," Lily said, voice deceptively calm, "if you shed on my couch one more time, then Remus is going to have to look somewhere else if he wants a shag."— Sirius, half-laughing, eyes bright as he looked up at Remus— "My Moony will protect me from the big bad Lily, won't he?" he asked with a besotted smile— Lily, throwing her hands up into the air— "How am I supposed to stay mad when you're acting so cute?" she scolded— Sirius, grinning at her— "You've cottoned on to my master plan, Lils"— Lily, grumbling— "Don't call me that"— "What, Lils?"— "I'll make you bald, just you wait."— Sirius, in mock-horror— "But if I don't have any hair, Moony won't love me anymore!"— Remus, rolling his eyes, Lily, grinning— "That's my master plan"—

Remus shut his eyes, firmly shoving the memories aside. He stayed like that for a moment, until he was sure that they wouldn't come washing over him again, then opened his eyes and continued reading.

He didn't need to go far. It was the last one on the page, the only one without a ridiculously descriptive title, but there was no mistaking it. For Remus, Lily's beautiful handwriting said, and his heart stilled.

He hadn't known until Snape had come by that Lily had been working on helping him with his lycanthropy. Now here was the proof. She had never said anything to him— probably wanted to surprise him, the way that James and Peter and Sirius had surprised them with their Animagius transformations in fifth year. He traced the words— For Remus— once, before pulling his hand back and tapping the words with his wand.

The pages turned, flipping through Lily's notes more and more quickly, until it finally stilled near the end of the book. The words For Remus were there again, at the top of the page, large, centered, underlined. He bent his head and began to read.

It was a mess, all thoughts and ideas jumbled together, scribbled down as she thought of them. Yarrow, she wrote in one spot, that tea works wonders for Remus. Consider: shredded, chopped, no? Not peeled. A little further down she wrote, flobberworm pus? Peter mentioned something about it at dinner. Must ask more when he's feeling more cheerful. In the meantime, research properties— ask Dumbledore if he could spare some books next time he stops by.

Remus stopped reading. Peter never got the chance to become more cheerful. He only got to be dead. Remus could still see him, sitting at his sofa, head in hands— "What's wrong, Peter?" Remus asked, frowning in concern— Peter, looking up, trying to manage a smile— "It's nothing important. Silly, really."— "Come on, Peter, you know that I won't laugh."— Peter, a real smile then, tired and worn— softly, "I know"— looking down at his hands again— "It's not that important"— Remus, gnawing his lip, a habit Sirius always teased him over, but he can't help it, he's worried— "Wormtail," he began, unsure of where he was going with this, only that he had to try— Peter, looking up, interupting— "You're good, you know that? You're better than all of us. Sirius doesn't deserve you"— Remus blinking, taken aback by the sudden shift in conversation— a throaty laugh from the doorway, Sirius, walking over to Remus— "You've got that right, Pettigrew. But Lupin here's never going to get rid of me"— another laugh, and a wolfish grin that Remus can't quite bring himself to return— "If you ever need to talk to someone," Remus began, directing his attention back towards Peter— Sirius, jumping on it like a dog with a bone— "What's wrong? Did little Wormy's girlfriend break up with him?"— Peter, surprise blooming over his face before he recovers— "As a matter of fact, she did," he said, coldly, and Remus winced at the result of Sirius's lack of tact— Remus, stepping towards him— Peter, glancing at him, half-smiling— "Remember what I said," he said, eyes flickering away from them— stepping into the Floo, leaving— Remus, turning, catching Sirius looking at him in a way he's never seen before—

He never saw Peter again after that. To this day, he couldn't help but wonder who the girl was, who hurt Peter like that. He wondered how she felt, when she saw him in the Daily Prophet only a few weeks later, dead. A hero.

He continued reading. There were pages of notes, all of her thoughts carefully recorded, bits of her daily life peaking through. Through the progression of her work he could trace the progression of her life, from fighting with the Order to hiding to the very end.

At the end of the last page, her handwriting changed. It was smoother, neater, closer to how it was in the letters she'd sent him in the year leading up to her death.

This book was meant to be only used for my professional notes, Lily wrote, but if being with James has taught me anything, it's that there are exceptions to every rule. The Fidelius Charm was cast today. I trust our Secret Keeper completely, and I know that he'll keep us safe— "Oh, Lily," Remus muttered, choking on her name— but if something goes wrong, I want the people I love to know that I love them, and that I was thinking of them. That's why I'm leaving these letters in here— one for every person I love.

Remus, this one is for you. I assume that if you're reading this, I'm dead. A large blotch of ink stained the page, as if Lily had scribbled out what she was going to say. Oh, bugger. Look, I don't think you're the spy. I know that you've heard what people are saying, and I want you to know that I don't believe a word of it. Neither does James. I know that you'd never do that to us, to James, to Harry, to me. You care about us too much for that.

Over the last few years, you've become a wonderful friend to me. You'll never know how much it meant to me when you decided to trust me with your secret. And when you came to me again, about Sirius— you're so strong, Remus. It's something that I've always admired about you. You've been through so much, but you don't complain about any of it. You just keep moving. When you came to me, asking for help for once in your life, it meant more than I can say that it was me who you came to, me who you trusted. You've become my best friend.

Harry's woken up, so I'll try to wrap this up quickly. Listen— don't close yourself off from other people. Let them help you. It's doesn't make you weak, I promise. And hold on to Sirius. He's good for you, and you're good for him. When I watch you two together, I have hope. You, me, James, Sirius, Peter— I can't believe that any of us will ever hurt each other. We care about each other too much. Don't forget that. Don't forget that you're important— to Sirius, to me, to all of us.

all my love,
Lily

"Lily," he said, and opened his mouth to laugh because it was better than crying, but it came out as a sob instead. All this love and devotion— Lily had been overflowing with it, and it had been Sirius who had wiped it all away. Sirius, with his laughing eyes and broad, easy grin. Sirius, who knew how to make James laugh faster than anyone and knew hundreds of ways to make Remus moan. Sirius, who James had tackled to the ground at his wedding reception when he'd given Lily a sloppy, drunken kiss on the mouth. Sirius, who Lily had loved and trusted.

Sirius, who he had loved.

Sirius, who had told him that he loved him.

Sirius, who good-as killed James and Lily, and did kill Peter.

It had been so many years before, but the grief still came, thick and hot and strong. Peter. James. Lily. Sirius. All once beautiful and young and alive. All gone, forever.

Lily's words flashed in his mind. I can't believe that any of us will ever hurt each other. We care about each other too much.

He bowed his head, and finally allowed himself to cry.




Snape returned in the early hours of the morning, the crack of his Apparation startling the birds crowded around the kitchen window. Lupin was already awake, dark shadows crowded under his eyes. By his elbow was a cup of tea, and laying there before him was the book. Lily's book.

"I'm finished with it," Lupin said, mildly. "She appears to have thought it through."

He bit back the urge to snap, 'Of course, and took the book from Lupin without a sound. He waited to see if there was anything more he— Potter's werewolf, Black's whore, Lily's new best friend— had to say.

"Severus." Snape narrowed his eyes at the use of his given name, but said nothing. "I accept. I'll test the potion."

Snape nodded, briskly, brusquely. "Very well," he said, decidedly cool. "I will bring it to you next week. If you will excuse me—" Without another word, he left, Lily's book held tight in his hands.




Remus watched the spot where Snape had been for a moment longer, then looked down at the table. The book was gone, and with it, Lily herself. Just like everyone else.

He finally took another sip of his tea. It was bitter and cold.