The Secret's In The Telling by Sakuri

chapter 39

Disclaimer: I own nothing and no one

Chapter 39: Something In Common

xxx

In the privacy of his rooms, Severus stared at the brand in his forearm and silently despised it.

More than he had in years, he hated the sight of it. It sickened him. He couldn't concentrate on anything beyond the hate. He wanted it gone, wanted his flesh burned clean of the taint, the disfiguration, and had to resist the urge to rake his nails across it.

Increasingly, this had been the case for days. No, a week, he realised.

A week since Lupin had gone.

A week since he'd been called away by the very same Mark that burned resentfully in his skin. Never once had the dull, stinging pain of the tattoo either relented or flared. It simply went on, a constant, unchanging sensation, that told him nothing of the Dark Lord's mood or activities.

He despised the brand entirely. It wasn't even of any use to him! Had it flashed with pain, he might have known... might have guessed Lupin's fate. The Mark usually only burned like that when the Lord had committed a particularly satisfying kill. Like a werewolf close to Harry Potter.

But there was nothing. No sign from the tattoo, neither good nor bad, of what had transpired this last week.

He imagined Potter, with his scar and similarly unhelpful link to the Dark Lord, understood his current mood as no one else did. Neither of them knew what was happening – which was perhaps the worst part – though he suspected the boy was practically inviting visions of the Lord's activities, such as he'd received last year, when he'd been able to save the life of Arthur Weasley as a result. How frustrating, that he could see nothing of Lupin...

Severus closed his eyes in exhaustion. Now, in his desperation, he could admit, in the private recesses of his mind, that he evidently... cared, somewhat, about the werewolf, as distasteful as the mere idea was.

He'd just known that Legilimency had been a bad idea...

He'd fallen into a trap somewhere along the way. He'd gotten to know the shabby little man, and that wasn't supposed to happen! He didn't want someone in his life that actually had an effect when they left! That was why he and Narcissa had been such compatible allies: their friendship was clinical, both of them realising that true attachment wasn't possible or practical.

When had he lost sight of that rule?

He suspected it was somehow Lupin's fault. Wasn't it always Lupin's fault...? God damned Gryffindor pest! Wreaking havoc on his reserved Slytherin sensibilities...

Uninvited, the thought occurred to him that the Gryffindor pest may not be around any longer to do more damage.

Severus sighed and rubbed his temples.

He supposed he should be thankful that, even in this weakened state, he wasn't half as emotional as Potter. The wreck the boy had deteriorated into was grating to the extreme.

And on the tail of that thought came his pity for Draco. Patience had never been his godson's strong point. And so close to the full moon, due to rise tonight –

He sat up straight in his chair, so fast it hurt his neck, eyes wide and staring unseeingly ahead.

And in that moment, useless Dark Mark or not, he knew Lupin's fate.

xxx

Draco considered himself a saint. A saint!

He had tapped into every reserve of tolerance, compassion and affection he had for the bloody Boy Who Lived in this last week, but Merlin help him, his nerves were fraying thin. How Potter's famous sidekicks had seen him through five years of previous crises without losing their minds, he'd never know, because he was barely lasting the week. He was almost – almost – developing something verging on respect for Weasley, just thinking it.