Changeling

Severus woke to the sensation of a warm body against his back, and a heavy arm curved possessively over his waist. Under some circumstances this would not be an unpleasant way to rouse from slumber... except for the fact that Severus had not had a lover in more years than he cared to count.

He sat up in alarm, snatching up his wand from the nightstand where he had placed it and turning to point it at the person who had invaded his bed, ready to throw every hex he could think of at the interloper who had dared to violate his personal quarters. But he stopped, blinking in shock at the sight of Remus Lupin, face relaxed and flushed with sleep, occupying the other side of the bed as though he had every right to be there.

Lupin? Severus tried to wrap his mind around the sight, tried to make some sense of it and failing miserably. What was Remus Lupin, former Marauder and only recently returned Hogwart's Professor, doing in his bed?

The werewolf cracked one eye open, then the other, before smiling softly. "I know I got back late, Severus," Remus said in a husky voice. "But is the wand really necessary?"

"Lupin?" The Potions Master snarled in outrage and confusion at the other man's calm acceptance of this totally unbelievable situation. He kept his wand pointed at the other man. "What in Merlin's name do you think you are doing? How did you get in here? I insist that you leave at once, before I remove what little mind you seem to have left to you!"

Remus yawned and stretched his arms above his head, seemingly unconcerned by the threat implicit in Severus' pose. "Mmm? Did you try to put extra wards on the door or something?" he asked lazily. "You must have really been upset with me. I'm sorry I was out so late, okay? But its not every day that my best friend has a bachelor party."

Reaching out almost nonchalantly, Remus plucked the wand from Severus' fingers, then put it out of sight behind his back.

The fact that the explanation was utter nonsense paled beside the fact that Severus was now unarmed. Severus glared at the other wizard, infuriated. "Lupin! Give that back right now! If you value your position at Hogwarts, you will cease this insane little prank and get out of here at once! Or else I might forget that we are on the same side in this war and Avada Kedavra Albus' favorite little pet."

The werewolf merely grinned, unfazed, and waggled his eyebrows suggestively. "Oh, threats! You know I love it when you talk dirty, Severus. I've been a very bad boy." He pulled the wand from behind his back, dangling it just out of Severus' reach with a teasing smile. "Are you going to spank me now?"

There was a definite hopeful note in Remus' voice, and Severus sputtered in fury. He made a lunge for the other wizard, intent on regaining possession of both his wand and his quarters with all due speed, and regardless of any damage Lupin might suffer in the process. But the werewolf seemed to anticipate the move, rolling onto his back at the same time so that Severus ended up missing his target and sprawling on top of Remus' body. His very warm, aroused body.

The Potions Master blinked in surprise, a flush suffusing his face. He scrambled to get away, but Remus' free hand was at the small of his back, pressing their bodies together with implacable strength. "Hah, you always fall for that," the werewolf chuckled. In a flash he rolled them over, pinning Severus beneath him and giving a predatory smile.

This is not happening, Severus thought wildly. I must be having a nightmare, or some hallucination brought on by those accursed fairies! He struggled harder, attempting to push Lupin away, but the infuriating man merely moaned, and Severus halted abruptly as he realized that Lupin was enjoying it.

The werewolf gazed down at him, amber eyes heavy-lidded with passion. Severus couldn't help the shiver that ran through him, seeing the amount of desire in those eyes. Desire for him. How long had it been since anyone had wanted him so obviously, how many years since he had felt pleasure at the hands of someone other than himself?

"This is insane," he said out loud. Unfortunately he didn't seem to be able to think as coherently as he had before, and his thrice-damned body had apparently developed a mind of its own as he felt himself hardening in response. "What game are you playing, Lupin?" He was horrified that the question sounded less like a demand for information and more like a plea.

Remus pressed his hips against Severus', grinning when the other man gasped helplessly. Leaning down, he pressed his lips to Severus' forehead in a kiss that was affectionate, tender, and completely devastating. "We're playing..." Another kiss, this one on Severus' nose. "Drive..." Another, this time on his left cheek. "Severus..." And yet another, on his right cheek. "Crazy!"

Severus thought weakly that if that were the game, Lupin had a fabulous chance of winning, as his outrage seemed to fade and die away in the face of this blatant seduction. Remus smiled at him, then swooped down to finally capture Severus' lips in a deep, demanding kiss.

His resistance was token at best. After only a brief struggle with himself Severus yielded to the firmness of the werewolf's lips, to the insistent tongue which parted his and slid into his mouth to taste and explore. There was something utterly disarming about the werewolf's complete self-confidence, his easy assurance that he could make Severus respond to him. And respond he did. How could he help it, when somehow Lupin instinctively knew exactly how he liked to be kissed?

It was probably the most thorough and seductive kiss Severus had ever experienced. Remus' hands moved along his body, making him shiver and moan as the werewolf found every sensitive spot within reach. He felt as though he were melting into the werewolf, the erotic caress of their tongues igniting a heat within him of such intensity that Severus moaned against Remus' mouth, hands fisting in the other man's thick, soft hair.

When the need for oxygen forced them apart, Severus felt Remus' mouth against his neck, tongue and teeth and lips unerringly going to the sensitive expanse of skin just below his ear. Severus gasped, and heard Remus chuckle in satisfaction as the Potions Master arched up against him in complete abandon.

"Anxious, love?" Remus murmured against his skin. "Well, I'll take care of that."

Years of celibacy left Severus with no defense at all against the sensual promise in Remus' voice. He wasn't even certain that he wanted to resist at this point, even if he could. The how and why of the werewolf's unexpected presence in his quarters had become completely irrelevant in the face of the need Remus was making him feel.

The tiny, ever-present voice of caution in the back of Severus' mind told him that he would end up paying for this eventually, probably in a way that was both emotionally and professionally painful, as well as extremely embarrassing. Severus listened to it distantly until the moment that Remus' hand wrapped around him; at that point, he told it firmly to shut the hell up.

Deftly Remus drove him towards the edge. It didn't take long until Severus cried out, pleasure pouring over him in a breathless, irresistible wave that seemed to go on and on and wonderfully on. Gradually he became aware of Remus holding him, nuzzling his neck, stroking his hip and murmuring surprisingly comforting nonsense in a low tone that was simultaneously reassuring and arousing.

Opening his eyes, Severus saw Remus smiling down at him smugly - but the expression in the werewolf's eyes was tender, full of deep, complex emotions that Severus felt totally unable to comprehend at the moment. Remus kissed him again, lingeringly, and this time Severus didn't hesitate to respond.

Kiss flowed into kiss, and lazy caresses soon became more urgent. Lost in the sensual haze - and not even wanting to find his way out of it - Severus didn't protest when Remus stripped the sheets away completely, or when the werewolf rolled him gently over onto his stomach. Instead he found himself anticipating with desire what seemed to be coming, pillowing his head on his folded arms as he heard Remus open the bedside table in search of what must surely be there. Remus was pressed against his side, and Severus allowed himself to revel in the heat of the werewolf's body as he listened to the sounds of Remus removing the lid of the jar, the thunk as it was placed back on the table, and then the feeling of warm, slick fingers hovering just over his...

Abruptly the heat against him was gone, and he heard a vicious growl that cut menacingly through the warm fog of desire that had fallen over him. Alarmed, Severus rolled onto his side to see Remus standing at the side of the bed, staring at him with a mixture of fury, loathing, and outright terror. It was particularly jarring in light of the tenderness which had been there mere moments before, but it was an expression Severus recognized immediately, with a sudden hollow in the pit of his stomach that made him nauseous. It was the same expression which had greeted him in his own mirror the night he had first learned that Remus was a werewolf.

"Remus?" he asked, stiffening defensively and feeling extremely vulnerable - which was not a feeling he liked at all.

The werewolf glared back, seemingly unconcerned with his own nakedness. Teeth bared, eyes wild, he looked every inch the predator Severus had feared for decades, nothing left in those eyes of the desire which had filled them. Slowly, Remus brought up a wand - Severus' own wand, forgotten in the heat that had risen between them - and when the werewolf spoke, it was in the voice of a man that Severus knew would not hesitate to kill him.

"Who are you?" Remus snarled in cold fury. "And what in the bloody hell have you done with my mate?"

"Mate?" Severus knew that his mouth had fallen open inelegantly, but he couldn't help it. "Lupin, have you lost your mind completely? You come here, to my quarters, to my bed, assault me, then make some outrageous claim about a mate? If this is one of your infamous pranks, it is not amusing in the slightest." Anger driven by embarrassment and frustration drove his words, and Severus sat upright, pulling up the sheet to cover himself. He was practically trembling with the force of his anger, and his face had contorted into a ferocious sneer. "You had better give me my wand and get the hell out of here, before I really do kill you!"

"If there is any killing going on here, I will be the one doing it," Remus said, his voice like ice. "Now tell me what you have done with Severus, or I swear by all that's holy that you will die a slow, painful death."

Severus had never seen the normally placid werewolf look so dominating, so implacable, so deadly. The sight kept him from jumping up and physically attacking the other man, and caused a finger of fear to run down his spine.

"You're mad," Severus said. "Utterly and completely mad. I am Severus Snape, you imbecile!"

Remus blinked, obviously startled, before giving a mirthless laugh. "I see. You're obviously one of Voldemort's spies, but your information is woefully out of date if so. You'd not get away with that claim for five minutes within the walls of this castle before being found out."

Eyes narrowed in suspicion, Severus felt a strange twinge of doubt. "I still cannot fathom what you are blathering about, Lupin," he said. "What claim?"

"To be Severus Snape," Remus said, mouth set in a grim smile. "Everyone knows that the real Severus goes by Lupin-Snape now. He's quite vehement about it, as a matter of fact."

The Potions Master stared hard at the other man, ready to snarl another denial. Then he stopped, frowning, and summoned up an ability he had ignored in the heat of the argument - his talent of Legilimency.

Black eyes gazed into the werewolf, gazed through him, looking for some sign of falsehood, or even of madness, anything at all to bring this idiotic little scene to an end. But, to his immense surprise, he found nothing but utter self-confidence, combined with fury and a soul-deep pain. Whatever was going on here, whatever madness had suddenly come over Severus' life, Remus Lupin was not the source of it.

"You are telling the truth," Severus said, stunned. "Which means that you are..."

"Remus Lupin-Snape," the werewolf spat, still murderously angry. "I don't know where you have been, or where you are getting your information, but with a disguise good enough to fool me into thinking, into doing..."

Remus' voice cracked slightly, and the wand wobbled for just a moment, as the obvious distress the man was feeling came through plainly. Severus couldn't blame him, of course. Truth be told, he was feeling more than a little distressed himself.

"We need to talk to the Headmaster," the Potions Master said quietly. "I am afraid that something quite... unsettling has occurred."
 

"You really are Severus Snape," Albus Dumbledore said, shaking his head. "My Legilimency could be fooled, but the Veritaserum doesn't make mistakes. This is most... unusual."

Remus Lupin-Snape snorted in disgust, but Severus ignored the sound. "I think it must have had something to do with the fairy ring I stepped into last night," he said wearily. "Since everyone else here seems to share a common set of memories about me that I do not, I can only assume that my memories are the one that have been altered." He had explained to the other two wizards the encounter he had been through the previous night, which seemed to be the point at which everything had started in this whole bizarre incident. He was pleased that his voice didn't tremble, revealing his horror at having his mind violated in such a fundamental way.

"It's not that simple," Remus spoke up. "Your.. his..." The werewolf stopped, drawing a deep breath to calm himself. "My Severus has a scar on his upper back, a very distinctive one. It was how I could tell the difference." He stopped again, and the amber eyes dropped as his face flushed. "The only way, actually, that I could tell at all."

"Scar?" The Potions Master frowned. "What kind of a scar?"

Looking up defiantly, Remus glared back. "A bite mark, if you must know. A bite mark I am intimately familiar with, seeing as I placed it on him when we became mates. It is the sign of my claiming of him, and it protects him from any other werewolf, even in a transformed state."

An odd, hollow feeling - certainly not jealousy? - coiled in Severus' stomach. He nodded briefly, before turning his attention back to Dumbledore. "Well. Perhaps an accident with time, then?" the Potions Master asked, although his voice was doubtful. "Perhaps someone changed something with a time-turner while I was in the fairy ring, so that everyone's memories were altered, except mine?"

The Headmaster considered this for a moment. "A reasonable theory, Severus... but it still leaves the paradox of the bite mark. Were you truly outside the time effect completely, Remus could not have marked you. Er, him." Dumbledore sighed, shaking his head, before looking at the werewolf.

"Remus?"

The sandy-haired wizard frowned, although the intellectual question seemed to have quieted his agitation somewhat. "There is something, Albus, that somewhat fits this situation... but really, it's all just a load of superstitious nonsense. It has never been proven..."

"What? What has never been proven?" Severus asked. He found that he was growing desperate for an explanation, something, anything on which he could blame this other than the fact that he was simply insane.

"Do you remember the story of the Changeling?" Remus asked quietly.

"The fairy child left in place of a human one?" Severus replied, voice doubtful. "I don't see what that has to do with this, Lupin. I am hardly a babe in arms!"

The werewolf gave the dark-haired wizard a look of very tried patience. "Of course you aren't, Severus, but you can certainly act like a child!" he snapped, before getting himself under control once more. "The fairy-baby myth is certainly the most common one, but children aren't the only ones that the legends talk about. Older children, too, and even some adults, have been rumored to have been snatched by the fey when they are either riled up or just being... playful."

"Playful?" Severus spat bitterly. "Playfully destroying other people's lives? How droll! Perhaps Hagrid ought to have the little monsters for pets!"

"Severus," Dumbledore said quietly, and the Potions Master brought himself back under control with a bit of effort. Tension and emotions were running high, at least for Severus and Remus. Not surprising, given the stress of the circumstances.

"The legends speak of people being different after encountering the fairies," the werewolf continued. "They are often considered mad, or even evil. But remember the legends are mostly Muggle in origin; I doubt that any serious study has been done to document an actual Changeling. What if, instead of the Changeling being an actual fairy child, as the legends say, it was, instead, someone who was switched from their proper 'world' to a different one?"

"A different world?" Severus asked, shaking his head. "You've been out in the moonlight too long, Lupin."

"Hear me out." The werewolf looked at the other man with a mute appeal in his amber eyes, and Severus subsided, nodding briefly for him to continue. "Consider for a moment if such a thing did happen to someone. Wouldn't they be considered mad, blathering about how everything had suddenly altered around them? Or possibly even evil? Say a loving spouse changed overnight, not knowing his wife, perhaps even hating her. Denying his children. Perhaps even lashing out in pain and confusion to hurt those whom he thinks have destroyed his life. It wouldn't be hard to judge such a person evil, would it? When in truth all they are guilty of is not being able to deal with their world suddenly not being the place it was the last time they looked. Muggles don't have the same luxury of considering the completely outrageous that we do."

It was plausible, but the skeptic in Severus wouldn't let him attach his hopes too quickly to mere speculation.

"So what does this theory get us?" the Potions Master asked, frowning. "Is there a way to actually tell if that is what happened to me?"

Remus shrugged. "Superstitions, none with anything that I would call a firm basis in real magic." He paused, then gave Severus an odd glance before continuing. "But there is a common thread running through nearly all of the legends - in nearly every case, the original child was returned, after the parents or other loved ones realized what had happened and acted."

"How, Remus?" Dumbledore asked, looking over the rims of his glasses, approval sparkling in his eyes. "How was this return effected?"

Severus consciously relaxed the death grip he had on the arms of his chair. "Yes, how? What do we have to do?"

"Well, I would have to do some research to make sure, but I seem to recall that in Scottish legends, there was the practice of taking Changeling children to a certain hill, probably what is known as a 'Fairy Mound'. The children are left there alone, while the adults watch from a distance away. In the morning, the children are either changed back, or dead."

"Dead?" Severus gasped in shock.

Remus put up his hands defensively. "It's just a legend, Severus, and an ill-remembered one at best. I would need to do some research, in order to find out any other things which are associated with the stories." He paused, sighing and running a hand through his hair. "It's not much, but it's the best I can come up with at the moment."

"I think you are on to something," Dumbledore said, nodding sagely. "It is certainly fits most of what has apparently occurred. I think you should get right to that research; Severus can help you."

"Headmaster?" Severus said, before pulling himself up sharply. Yes, the man was Dumbledore, but... well, was he actually subject to this man's orders, if, somehow, this were not even his world?

Dumbledore smiled, the same understanding smile Severus was used to. In the past it had annoyed him greatly, but, for once, it was reassuring. "Help him, Severus," the Headmaster said quietly. "He wants his mate back. I'm sure that his Severus is helping your Remus, if they've managed to come to the same conclusion. Or is your Remus not as knowledgable?"

"He is," Severus said defensively, oddly and unexpectedly stung on the werewolf's behalf - or at least, stung on behalf of 'his' world. "But I must remind you, he is not my Remus, nor am I his Severus."

Dumbledore looked at the werewolf standing quietly behind the Potions Master, then back at Severus himself, before shaking his head and sighing with regret.

"Well, in that case, I feel very sorry for you both."
 

Several hours later a house elf entered the library, bearing a tray of sandwiches and tea which she placed on the table between them. "Missy is asking the professors pardon, but Headmaster is saying that the professors must eat, and do so without working." The wide-eyed creature delivered her little speech softly, before disappearing with a small pop.

Severus sighed, closing the book before him and rubbing his eyes, which felt gummy with exhaustion and book-dust. "For once, I feel decidedly disinclined to argue with his orders," he muttered.

The werewolf nodded, closing his own book and pushing it away, eagerly picking up the teapot and pouring two cups full. "He's a wise man, is Albus," Remus said, smiling slightly. "Ham sandwiches and chocolate biscuits will definitely aid the cause."

Taking the cup that Remus held out to him, Severus nodded, sipping the tea absently before glancing up again, startled. "Two sugars, no milk... you knew," he said, tone almost accusatory.

Remus looked confused for a moment, before flushing. "Sorry," he said, with a small shrug. "I'm just... used to making your...his tea. Force of habit, you know."

The Potions Master nodded, then sighed and took another sip.

Severus was not a vain man, but he had enough natural human conceit to not be able to resist the lure of a mirror - especially such an odd one as was being presented at the moment. The mirror of his life, if things had gone just slightly differently.

He also had never been able to resist a mystery, a conundrum, a puzzle that needed solving; and to Severus Snape, all puzzles needed to be solved. It was a trait some called 'nosey' and others called 'scientific curiosity'. It had lead him into his chosen career in potions, while simultaneously leading him down a dark and dangerous path from which he had barely escaped. It was his blessing, and his curse, but it was as much a part of who and what he was as his oily hair and beaky nose. And sitting before him, albeit in a slightly altered form, was the one person who remained a complete and utter mystery in Severus' life.

The combination of the two was entirely too tempting for a far more saintly man than Severus Snape to resist.

"Tell me... how did you and I... I mean, you and he get together?" Severus asked, raising a brow.

Remus looked up from his sandwich, startled, before smiling slyly. "You really want to know that?"

"I would not have asked if I did not," the Potions Master replied with great dignity.

The werewolf chuckled, then looked at Severus consideringly. "I'll tell you, if you tell me one thing."

Black eyes narrowed in suspicion. "Which is?"

"Why did you let me kiss you, and... well, everything," Remus asked softly.

Severus glared. "That is hardly germane to my question!" he said darkly. "If you do not wish to tell me, fine, but I am not going to be toyed with."

Remus placed a hand over Severus' briefly, before removing it. "I think it's quite relevant, actually," he said quietly. Then he shrugged. "You can lie to yourself if you wish - Merlin knows that my Severus practically had a specialty in it for a long time - but you felt it. Between us - you and I, that is. The chemistry, if you will. For my Severus and I, it's always been that way, ever since school. Of course nothing happened between us back then except for a great deal of adolescent sexual tension and the occasional fantasies we had about each other, but even that was destroyed when you... I mean he found out I was a werewolf. Sirius Black - I do assume that you have a Sirius Black? - played a very nasty, vindictive trick on my Severus, almost getting him killed at my hands."

The Potions Master stiffened, a surreal feeling washing over him as he listened to a virtual retelling of his own life. "Yes, there was a Sirius Black in my life, as well. And he did the same thing."

Sighing, the sandy-haired wizard shook his head. "I suppose it was too much to hope that he would have been more mature in a different world than he is in mine. But, anyway... Severus and I didn't see each other for a very long time after school got out. A great deal happened to us both during that time. I'm pretty sure that most of the same must have happened to you, and to your Remus, for I saw the Dark Mark on your arm, and you haven't said anything at all about my scars being different."

"They aren't," Severus said, letting the reference to his Remus go unremarked. "I became a Death Eater, then I realized my stupidity and changed sides, becoming Albus' spy in Voldemort's ranks."

Remus nodded. "And I studied Defense, hoping to become a teacher. Then on Halloween night in 1981, Voldemort killed Lily and James Potter, and Sirius was blamed for their deaths, when Peter Pettigrew had been the betrayer all along."

"Exactly," the dark-haired wizard confirmed. He didn't know why he could talk about these things so easily with Remus, or at least with this Remus. Somehow there was little or no pain or guilty in this conversation, unlike he would have imagined it being with the Remus in his own world. Maybe he was wrong, however; maybe it would have been just as easy, if they had ever sat down and actually tried to discuss their past instead of avoiding it as much as possible.

The werewolf chewed on a sandwich, gazing at Severus with a curious expression for a moment before shaking his head. "You're very like him, you know. Almost frighteningly so."

"Does that disturb you?" Severus asked curiously.

Remus shrugged. "A bit, I suppose. Now that I know the differences, I can see them more easily, or course. But they are faint enough that it can be a little difficult. Like looking at a picture of someone where the color is just the slightest bit off, or listening to their voice and the accent not being quite the same."

"I see," the Potions Master said. And, strangely enough, he did. "Sort of as though discovering an identical twin, perhaps?"

The werewolf smiled wryly. "That's a very good analogy, Severus. You look like the man I love, but you're not him. Now that I know what happened, I don't feel so guilty, so much like I betrayed my mate by... well..." Remus broke off, flushing slightly.

Severus felt himself grow warm as well, recalling the events of that morning. How he had given in to Remus' seduction quite willingly, had been prepared to let the werewolf do anything at all to his body, so long as he just kept doing it.

Oh, Merlin, he thought suddenly, horror washing over him. Please, please, please, do not let me be developing feelings for him. I do not belong in this world, and he is most definitely in love with his mate.

"So, when did you come to Hogwarts to teach?" Severus asked, desperate to change the subject from thoughts of what had happened in that bed in the dungeons.

"In 1993," Remus replied easily, as though he, too, wanted a different topic. "I've been here since, of course. Severus and I got together in 1994..."

"Wait a moment," the Potions Master said, frowning. "You've been here since then, the entire time? Almost four years?"

"Yes," came the soft reply, accompanied by a raised brow. "I take it something different happened in your world?"

"Quite," Severus said, suddenly uncomfortable about exactly why his Remus had left Hogwarts at the end of that school year. "Sirius Black had escaped from Azkaban in 1993, and everyone thought he was out to kill Harry Potter."

"Yes," Remus agreed, nodding. "You... my Severus thought I was helping him, which wasn't the truth."

"I know." It was almost an apology, although Severus knew this particular werewolf wasn't the one he had been suspicious of. "Black was really after Pettigrew, who turned out to be Ronald Weasley's pet rat."

"Who Sirius recognized from a picture in the Daily Prophet," Remus added.

"Then everything came to a head one night, in the Shrieking Shack, when Potter followed Black, who was chasing Pettigrew."

"And I followed Harry, and you... he... followed all of us."

Severus sighed. "This is almost too bizarre for words, you realize."

"Tell me about it," Remus said, shaking his head and taking another sip of his tea. "Well, let's see. There was a massive row, and everything came out about the Fidelius, and what Peter had done. Severus didn't want to believe it, and argued, and Harry, Ron, and Hermione all tried to disarm him at the same time, knocking him out."

"Yes." The Potions Master winced, recalling that ignominy of that particular scene. "I didn't regain consciousness until later, in the infirmary, and I heard what happened. You - he - Lupin had forgotten to take his Wolfsbane that night. When he exited the tunnel, he transformed, Black took off after him, and Pettigrew managed to escape. Potter and Granger helped Black to escape the Dementors on that damnable hippogriff, and I was so furious at everything that happened that I let slip to my Slytherins that Lupin was a werewolf, and he resigned in disgrace rather than be fired." He stopped, looking at the open-mouthed wizard sitting across from him. "What is it?"

"Are you saying, that in your world, everything fell apart because of... me?" There was agony on the werewolf's face.

Some strange feeling of discretion came over Severus. Perhaps it was that he didn't want to add more pain to the man who was already suffering the loss of his mate, although why that mattered to him Severus could not have said. "What happened here?" he asked instead. "From your last comment, I believe we have found the point of divergence in our respective histories."

Remus shook himself, then drew in a deep breath. "As you said, you - my Severus - was knocked unconscious. We all left the Shack, and made it back to Hogwarts safely. Peter did escape, but that wasn't until the next day, after he attacked Fudge and stole the Minister's wand while being questioned." The werewolf paused, looking at Severus soberly. "My Severus saw Sirius, and Peter, and was forced to accept that Sirius had not been the betrayer. Dumbledore forced a truce between the two of them, and they weren't terribly happy about it. Still, as a gesture of good faith, Sirius apologized and explained to my Severus about that horrid prank back in school. Sirius knew I was attracted to Severus, and he was, in a word, jealous. Not because he wanted me or anything like that, but because he knew that Severus was attracted to me, too, and that if the two of us got together that the Marauders would never be the same again. It wasn't rational, it was stupid and thoughtless and totally selfish, but Sirius apologized, and Severus accepted. Sirius got a pardon, of course, and he felt so guilty for the fact that I had spent twelve years alone that he made it a bit of a pet project to get Severus and I together. Oddly enough, it worked - a fact which he doesn't hesitate to remind Severus of at every opportunity, and which annoys Severus no end."

The Potions Master listened to this, dumbfounded at the startling differences. Then he frowned, as something caught his attention. "Wait one moment. You refer to Black in the present tense; do you mean to say he's still alive?"

Remus nodded, frowning pensively at Severus' tone. "Of course he is. He's getting married tomorrow, actually. Lovely girl, one of Amelia Bones' nieces. With everything with Voldemort looming so close, they didn't want to wait to be together, just in case." The werewolf paused. "I take it things are a little different..."

"Yes." The word was spoken flatly, almost harshly, and Severus winced at his own tone. "Sirius Black was never pardoned. He lived as a fugitive for two years, before dying in a foolish accident at the hands of Bellatrix Lestrange." Severus saw the stunned pain on the werewolf's face, and sighed. "He never explained about the Shack, never tried to get Remus and I together, and, of course, did not and will not be marrying anyone at all."

"That's so sad," Remus replied, his voice full of pain.

"The night of the incident in the Shack, the second one, that is," Severus said. "I take it you remembered to drink the Wolfsbane that night, where my Remus didn't?"

"Hmm?" The werewolf blinked, as though pulling himself out of faraway thoughts. Sad thoughts, at that. "Oh, I took the Wolfsbane. But I think there is a bigger difference than that. You see, the night that everything happened here, it wasn't the night of the full moon. It was the day after."

Severus just stared back, sobered by that revelation. So many differences. So much waste that could have been avoided, lives that could have been spared, or altered dramatically for the better.

"You've started calling him your Remus, you know," the werewolf added quietly.

So he had. Severus couldn't help the bitterly ironic chuckle which escaped his lips, nor the sardonic observation.

"Well, I suppose we should tell Albus that we now have the ultimate, measurable proof of exactly what a difference a single day can make."
 

It was nearing nine o'clock when Remus suddenly gasped, then turned to Severus, amber eyes filled with excitement. "I found it! We've looked so long without locating anything that I was starting to believe I had hallucinated it, but here it is!"

Severus glanced up. "And?"

The werewolf stuck his tongue out playfully at the monosyllabic reply, and Severus ignored the stab of longing that the gesture instilled in him. It wasn't just the sexual innuendo that it brought to mind, but the comradery it spoke of between this Remus and his Severus. Easy, natural, and strangely alluring to a man who had spent most of his life almost completely alone. He had begun to envy his 'twin', as he thought of the Severus who was fortunate enough to be the mate of this Remus.

"This speaks of a place in Suddie, not terribly far away from here," Remus replied, then began to quote from the book. "'There is a small hill N.W. from the church commonly called Therdy Hill, or Hill of Therdie, as some term it; on the top of which there is a well, which I had the curiosity to view, because of the several reports concerning it. When children happen to be sick, and languish long in their malady, so that they almost turn skeletons, the common people imagine they are taken away (at least the substance) by spirits, called Fairies, and the shadow left with them; so, at a particular season in summer, they leave them all night themselves, watching at a distance, near this well, and this they imagine will either end or mend them; they say many more do recover than do not. Yea, an honest tenant who lives hard by it, and whom I had the curiosity to discourse about it, told me it has recovered some, who were about eight or nine years of age, and to his certain knowledge, they bring adult persons to it.'"[1]

"You believe this to be the place I should go to?" Severus asked, frowning.

"Yes," Remus acknowledged. "Don't worry about the 'end them or mend them' bit. I think that they brought people to that mound who weren't always Changelings, just regular sick people, and some of them obviously couldn't take a night of exposure in the out-of-doors. But my suspicion is that perhaps the doorway - or window, or whatever you want to call it - between the worlds must be somehow thinner there, or perhaps magic helps people who want to be able to cross it." He paused, laying a hand on top of Severus' comfortingly. "I think it's the best shot. It certainly is worth a try, don't you think?"

The hesitation was so slight that Severus almost convinced himself that it didn't exist at all. "Of course."

Remus rose, and started towards the door; when Severus didn't follow immediately, the werewolf paused, and glanced back over his shoulder. "Are you coming, then?" he asked quietly.

No mistaking the hesitation this time, but Severus pushed it aside, and rose slowly to his feet.

They left the school, walking towards the edge of the anti-Apparation wards. Severus breathed in the air that smelled like home, gazed at the stars which looked like home, listened to the night creatures in the woods which sounded like home. And yet, in his heart, he knew that it wasn't his home. What was it Remus had said? Like a photograph where the colors are slightly wrong, or a voice where the accent wasn't quite right. Gazing at the man who walked beside him, eagerness written on the sensitive face - eagerness to see a man who wasn't this Severus Snape - the Potions Master acknowledged that this wasn't his Remus; although if this Remus were so easy to become attached to, perhaps his own would be as well, if he gave it a chance.

"If this does not work," he began, only to stop when the amber eyes of the other man flashed at him in the moonlight.

"It will," the werewolf replied quietly. "I really think it will. And if it doesn't, we will keep looking until we find something that does." Remus paused, and his voice was full of yearning when he spoke again. "I love him, you know. I've loved him for a very long time. If you can't cross over for him to come back, well, I'll just have to find a way to go to him."

For several moments the only sounds were those of their footsteps. "He is a lucky man, your Severus," the Potions Master murmured quietly. He meant it, too.

"I'm lucky, too," Remus said, smiling slightly. "Just remember, though, that it's possible to make your own luck."

The dark-haired wizard considered that, then nodded slightly. "I will keep that in mind."

"I know you will, Severus."

The reached the edge of the anti-Apparation boundary, and pulled their wands. Severus felt a hand on his arm, and he looked over at Remus, raising a brow in inquiry. "What is it?"

His answer was a press of warm lips against his own, not demanding or erotic but more reminiscent of the tender kisses Remus had placed on his forehead and cheeks that morning. Severus held still under the gentle caress, and then Remus stepped back, smiling.

"For luck," the werewolf said softly. "If this works, I want you to promise me that you will deliver that kiss to your Remus, with my compliments and an admonition that he had better be good to you."

"I promise," Severus said. Suddenly his reluctance to leave faded away, and he found himself eager for this to work, for him to get back to where he belonged - and to see if he really could make his own luck, after all.

Two deafening cracks echoed across the grounds of the school, and then silence descended once more.
 

Nausea. Vertigo. The feeling of moving-but-not-moving that caused his head to swim dizzily. A glimpse of himself, as though in a mirror, lips quirked up in a smile of satisfaction, before disappearing. Then it stopped, and Severus swayed on his feet, disoriented.

Strong, warm arms caught him, and he sagged in relief at not having to be the sole person in charge of remaining upright. After a few moments the dizziness began to clear, and Severus opened his eyes, somehow unsurprised to see a pair of concerned amber ones gazing back at him.

"Welcome home," Remus - somehow unmistakably his Remus - said. "I'm glad that apparently the theory was correct. The other Remus must not be so very different from me, if he came to the same conclusion."

Severus heard the caution in the werewolf's tone, and it pained him after the openness of the other. He would just have to fix that.

"He is very like you," Severus agreed. He paused, then said softly. "But he is not you."

Remus' eyes widened, and in them Severus saw a hope that he was quite certain was reflected in his own.

"Is that so?" the werewolf asked.

"Yes. But he sent you a message, with his compliments."

The smile that curved the werewolf's lips was tender. "So what is this message?"

Severus didn't hesitate. He pressed his lips to Remus' gently, gratified beyond measure when Remus moaned softly and responded, sliding his tongue against Severus' lips and pleading for an entrance which Severus readily granted. And as wonderful as kissing the other Remus had felt, this was even more so, some indefinable element that he could neither name nor describe making it completely perfect and utterly right.

They drew apart finally, both short of breath, staring at each other in something that approached wonder.

"I think we need to talk," Severus said. "Shall we go back to my quarters?" A vision Remus lying in his bed, naked and aroused, rose in Severus' mind.

"Yes, lets," Remus agreed. A familiar, wicked smile curved his lips. "We can talk. Afterwards. For some reason, I'm feeling strangely lucky tonight."

 

Epilogue:

"I cannot believe that I owe Sirius Black, even though he did not actually do anything for us," Severus said, scowling slightly at his mate. "The other Black may have helped our counterparts, but this one was never anything but a thorn in my side."

Remus chuckled, swiping his tongue over the hour old bite mark on Severus' shoulder, which caused the Potions Master to shiver in delighted response.

It had taken them only two days after Severus' return for everything to fall into place, for the strangely easy relationship to bloom in the once-barren fields of their mere tolerance for each other. Perhaps it was the knowledge, the first hand proof of the years they had missed out on due to an unfortunate quirk of fate. Perhaps it was the memory of the love they had seen for their counterparts in the eyes of their respective mates, a depth of feeling that neither Severus nor Remus had ever thought to experience, but which now hung before them like a promise. Perhaps it even had to do with faerie magic, although that thought was enough to make Severus shudder in horror. If he so much as saw a faerie ring again, he would... he would... well, probably do absolutely nothing. It annoyed him no end to actually owe something to the horrid creatures.

Just as it annoyed him that Remus said they owed something to Sirius Black.

"I could not even thank him if I wanted to do so - which I do not," Severus continued, with a sniff of disdain. "After all, there is no one left to thank."

Abruptly Remus rolled him over, pinning the Potions Master down against the mattress, and looking down at him with mock sternness. "Why, Severus Lupin-Snape! I do believe that you are a most ungrateful wretch!"

"I am not," Severus scowled, although there was no heat in it. How could there be, when Remus, his Remus, was laying on top of him like that? "It is merely the truth, is it not?"

Remus chuckled. "You know, in all the excitement I forgot to give you something. Your counterpart left you a message, too."

The Potions Master raised a brow, smirking. This would no doubt be good, if the kiss that the other Remus had sent were anything to go by. "So, what is the message?" he asked smugly.

With a heart-stopping grin, Remus leaned down, closer and closer, until his lips were poised just over Severus', so close that their breath mingled, and the warmth of Remus' lips was almost close enough to taste. Severus' eyes widened, his heart thudding in anticipation at the gleam in Remus' eyes.

"The message..."

"Yes?" Severus almost moaned, holding himself still.

"Is..."

Remus was driving him mad, prolonging the torture, holding his lips just out of Severus' reach.

"WHAT?"

"Get. Over. It."

Severus swore under his breath as Remus laughed in delight.

"Other me is a complete bastard," he spat, scowling.

"So are you, Severus," the werewolf replied. Amber eyes gazed down into Severus', full of a depth of emotion Severus had seen once before, in a gaze meant for another man. This was infinitely better, because it was for he alone.

"Am I?"

"Yes," Remus confirmed. "But that's okay, Severus. I love you anyway."

Severus felt like the luckiest man on earth. His earth, or any other.

 

FINIS
 

Author's Notes:
The quote on Therdy Hill is taken from the following:

1. Sir Walter Scott, "On the Fairies of Popular Superstition" (Introduction to "The Tale of Tamlane," Minstrelsy of the Scottish Border, Poetic Works (Edinburgh: Ballantyne, 1833), vol. 2, pp. 317-321.