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Late Lament

by Arionrhod

He hoped against hope that he wasn't too late.

Severus ran through the dungeons, black robes flying behind him. His face was set in lines even more grim than those that normally graced his countenance. It made him look so fierce that every student who saw him immediately drew back in fear, hugging the stone walls and hoping that they were not the one who was going to ultimately bear the brunt of his wrath, that they had not been the cause of whatever made their Head of House look that way. But the Potions Master was oblivious, not even seeing the cowering teenagers who gave him wide berth; he was far too focussed on his need to move, as rapidly as possible, towards his goal.

Too late... I left it too late. The litany played itself over and over in his head, marking time to his footsteps ringing on stone. Up the stairs, out of the massive front doors, almost flying as he made for the anti-Apparation boundary surrounding the school. I cannot believe it. I cannot have done it. How could I have been so irredeemably stupid?

One hand clutched his wand as he moved, holding it in a white knuckled grip so tight that he knew his fingers would cramp if he tried to loosen them. The other hand was thrust into a pocket in his long coat, clutching at a piece of parchment with an equally desperate strength. Simple, smooth, pale parchment, upon which were inscribed in a copperplate script the words that would forever deny him something that he desperately wanted. Something that he needed, that he craved, that he had ignored... that he had never had, and which he now might be too late to recover.

It had become such a defensive habit, to snarl at everything that Lupin said. To keep every feeling inside except the anger, to pretend to a disdain that had become more of an instinctive reaction than a real emotion. And, to be perfectly truthful, part of him enjoyed the fire he could spark in the other man, reaching past the veneer of calm the werewolf always wore, to make the golden eyes flash briefly with temper, to cause the long, sensitive fingers clench and the full lips twist with quickly suppressed anger. He could raise passion in the werewolf, get to the man in a way that no one else could, and he reveled in it. It somehow paid the sandy-haired Gryffindor back for the unfulfilled passions that Severus felt for him in return. Passions that he had no hope of ever realizing.

Yes, a habit to sneer, to be dismissive, to ignore. Which he had done earlier in the week, when he had come upon the werewolf and Dumbledore in an intense discussion outside the Great Hall. Lupin had obviously been distressed, eyes bleak as he faced the Headmaster.

"I really don't know what to do Albus," Lupin had been saying as Severus rounded the corner. "This is just... too much."

"Surely there is someone who could help," Dumbledore had sighed. The blue of the Headmaster's eyes had turned to the Potions Master as he had approached them. "In fact... what about Severus?"

"Whatever it is, I am certain I have no time for it," Severus had replied, scowling. It was late, he wanted his dinner, and then some blessed time alone. He had no time for Lupin's petty problems.

"Not even to aid a comrade to overcome a most unjust limitation being forced upon him?" Albus had asked, frowning. "I know that you are not so heartless, Severus, as to ignore a friend in need."

Severus winced as he recalled how he had sneered, facing Lupin. "In need? A friend? Lupin is many things, Headmaster, but he is no friend of mine. I provide his potion. Anything else Lupin needs he can obtain from another source."

Dumbledore had made as if to protest, but the werewolf had touched the elderly wizard's arm. "Leave it, Albus. While Severus would have been my first choice, I certainly have no desire to presume upon him when he so obviously does not like the idea."

The Potions Master had snorted disdainfully. "That, Lupin, is the first wise decision you have made in years." Brushing past them, he had entered the Great Hall. He had noted at the time that Remus hadn't risen to the taunt, that there had been no flash of amber eyes, no clenching of the werewolf's jaw. But Severus Snape was a busy man. There would be time later to bait the werewolf, time to elicit the kind of reaction he wanted to see.

The week had flown by, with OWLs to be prepared for the fifth years and a summons from the Dark Lord taking up what time was not devoted to his teaching and research. So it was not until Saturday morning, after a leisurely breakfast in his quarters, that Severus had taken time to sort through his mail and read The Daily Prophet.

The mail had been uninteresting, a few Potions journals and a thick, pale envelope which looked like a formal invitation to some event or other. Severus never accepted invitations, even though, upon occasion, former students invited him to their weddings. He was not a social person, not at all, and he had tossed the expensive looking parchment aside in favor of picking up the newspaper.

It was on page five that he had his first twinge of doubt. Ministry Restrictions On Lycanthropes Go Into Effect Tomorrow, the banner at the top of the article had said. The paragraphs below had gone on to explain that due to concerns about recruitment by the Dark Lord among the werewolves, that any werewolf who was not married to a licensed witch or wizard would have to report for interment at a Ministry reserve.

Severus had stared at the paper, uncomprehending for several seconds. Then he had reached out numbly, picking up the envelope he had earlier discarded. Opening it, he had pulled out the single thick page within.

Mr. and Mrs. Arthur Weasley
Cordially invite you to the bonding of their son,
William A. Weasley
to
Remus J. Lupin
on Saturday, the 18th of May 1998
Twelve o'Clock, Noon
The Burrow
Reception following ceremony
Regrets Only

Something painful burst in the region of Severus' heart, so deep and wounding that he actually gasped. Realization struck hard, that this must have been what Remus had needed assistance with. This was what Albus had wanted him to do. To marry Remus.

If he had only stopped to ask...

He had nearly given in to the despair, until the looked up at the clock. It was fifteen minutes until noon. It hadn't happened yet. But what could he do... wasn't it was too late already?

Severus would have been my first choice...

Remus' words cut through the darkness around him, and Severus had surged to his feet. The invitation had been crumpled and thrust into his pocket as he ran from his rooms. It wasn't too late, not if he hurried. If he was in time, he could have it all... everything he had ever wanted.

Finally, Severus reached the boundary around the school, and Disapparated with a deafening crack of displaced air. He appeared almost instantly not far from the Weasley home, and began to run again. As he drew closer, he could hear voices from the garden, and he veered in that direction.

There, just ahead, he could see everyone gathered around, standing in a circle. Potter's dark hair stood out among all the red of the Weasley clan, and beyond all of them, sunlight glinted on a familiar head of honey-colored hair, hair whose grey streaks glowed bright silver in the spring sunlight.

His breath was gone from running, and Severus couldn't raise his voice to speak. Still moving forward, he reached the back of the crowd, where Charlie Weasley, hearing his approach turned and smiled at him.

Less than a second later, Dumbledore's voice rang out.

"By the power vested in me by the Wizengamot, I declare you, Remus, and you, William, lawfully bonded. So mote it be!"

"So mote it be!" Charlie repeated, along with all the other guests.

Severus watched numbly as Bill Weasley, smiling brightly, swept Remus against his lean body. The red head dipped down, lips capturing the werewolf's in a kiss that started gentle, and progressed quickly to passionate as Remus' arms went around the taller wizard's shoulders. Remus leaned into the embrace, while one of Bill's hands travelled downwards to Remus' waist, then lower... to the sudden laughter and catcalls of the people around them.

"We're so pleased for them," Charlie Weasley was saying, as Severus stood in mute witness to the shattering of his hopes. "Turns out our Bill had fancied Remus for years, but he thought Remus fancied someone else and didn't want to get in the way. But then with the Ministry regulations and all, what with Remus needing help, Bill went to see him and told him if whatever bloke he wanted wasn't going to help him out, that Bill wanted to do it. Remus was grateful, but he was going to turn Bill down. Bill's a right determined man, though, when he gets his mind set on something." Charlie paused, chuckling. "Seems our Bill took Remus to bed and shagged him senseless until he couldn't do anything but agree. Not your classic romance, I suppose, but it'll do for them... they're happy."

Remus and Bill finally broke apart, flushed and laughing. Severus saw the amber of the werewolf's eyes flash with passion, a passion he had thought that only he could raise. Something he had thought was for him alone, but which he had lost without ever really having possessed it.

"Well, you were just in time, Professor," Charlie continued. "Come on inside! It's time for the party to start!"

The younger wizard moved away, following his family towards the house. At the head of the procession, Remus had his arm around Bill's waist, leaning into him, and Bill's arm was wrapped around Remus' shoulders. They walked out of the garden, hips bumping gently as they moved, heads together in earnest conversation. Remus laughed at something his new mate said, and Bill leaned down to kiss the werewolf's smiling lips.

Severus turned away, unable to watch any longer. His gaze fell on a familiar form, and he blinked, as he realized Albus stood only a few feet away, watching him. The elderly wizard's face was filled with gentle sympathy and compassion, and the Potions Master suddenly knew that his pain was written on his face for all to see.

Turning on his heel, Severus stalked away from the Burrow, away from Dumbledore, away from Remus Lupin. He realized now that it wouldn't have mattered if he had been fifteen minutes earlier, or fifteen hours, he still couldn't have stopped the wedding. His lateness wasn't measured in minutes, it was measured in years, stupid, wasted years where he had been satisfied with owning a small piece of something that he had been too afraid to accept as a whole. Remus had waited, and Severus had let him do it. He would, no doubt, have let the werewolf wait forever.

He had missed his one chance, when Remus had needed him and could no longer wait. He had been a fool, losing not only Remus' heart, but his own heart as well... and the worst part of it was, he had only himself to blame.

FINIS