neutral_omens | (no subject)

Entry tags:

remus,
snape

(no subject)

Date: December 18, 1999
Setting: The Library, the Kitchens, and then the Library again, and then the Kitchens. Round and round we go...
Characters: Mostly private - Remus, Severus
Summary: Remus Lupin discovers who the chef is.

Remus Lupin had never been particularly outgoing. But, when he had motivation, like students, food, and more recently, money, he could be as forthright as he liked.

He was sitting, at this moment, in the library of Tadfield Manor, at some moment close to midnight, and trying to concentrate on a book of demons. There were a lot in this library - it appeared to be filled with Satanic books. He'd heard the words "Satanic nunnery" about, too, but he wasn't really sure why. Maybe someone could explain the medical books lying about.

His stomach rumbled for the 79th time.

Remus sighed and glanced at his watch. No one would be in the kitchens at this time, right? He closed his book and stood, stretching. He didn't like disturbing the chef's assistant at all, that pale, nervous boy. The last thing Wensleydale needed was a hungry werewolf lurking at his kitchen's doorstep.

He closed the book and set it back where he found it, then took his threadbare and patched cloak, wound it about himself, and set off for the kitchens.

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Kitchens all had a certain similarity. Function following form, Severus assumed. Of course, minor details such as the locations of spices and implements varied, and that was what he was familiarizing himself with now. Small details that didn't lead to disconcerting and nerve-wracking remarks from anyone.

It wasn't quite absorbing enough to keep him from hearing soft footsteps approach the door. Which he currently had his back to. How'd I let that happen? As he spun atound, he couldn't keep from holding the saucepan he'd been examining high, like a weapon.

Remus had just walked in when a black-haired, greasy-looking man swirled, and the werewolf looked up to see the man brandishing a frying pan at him.

"Oh, for Chrissake," Remus swore as he immediately sprang back to the doorway. He still, however, saw the expression, saw the face, saw the stance. Only one man - one wizard - had that nose.

"Severus Snape," he said, stumbling backwards in surprise. His hood fell back, and his face - tawny-haired, scarred, thin and pale for all that - was revealed. "Oh, Merlin's grey-haired balls."

"Don't be revolting," Snape said reflexively. He wanted very much to tell himself he was hallucinating, that if he turned around again he'd find he was still alone in the kitchen. Well, why not? What next? Are you sure you're not in a padded cell and all of this is a hallucination? Staring numbly, he didn't realize he'd let go of the saucepan's handle until he heard it hit the floor.

"I'm sorry, Severus, but I... wasn't expecting you." Remus looked fairly shocked. Politeness, right up until memory caught up with the overwhelming feeling of shock.

"How- Why are you here? What happened? Are you here on Order business? Are you still a Death Eater? Is Voldemort- Is Harry- what happened? You- you killed Albus Dumbledore." Remus panted, back pressed against the wall of the kitchens, and glared at Snape. "You killed him. Why?"

"I'm here because I have a job here. I didn't expect a sort of kitchen inquisition." He grabbed a bottle of wine that had been intended to be used in a sauce. I need it more than the salmon does. He overfilled a wineglass and took an ungraceful slurp before glancing at Remus again. "And I didn't have a choice, but I'm sure that doesn't matter to anyone."

Remus nodded, still unmoving. "Ah, um. Really. A job. You're going to be cooking my food. Our food. Everyone in the Manor's food. Oh, um."

He blinked. "Didn't know, ah, that you cooked. Silly me. Potions Master is now a chef."

Remus put a hand over his face, and breathed, and calmed down. "Right. Well. No choice. I'll accept that, but you'll have to tell me the full story later. I'd prefer it if you didn't kill me in my sleep, you know. Anyway. Story accepted." He took another long breath, and smelled everything - food, Snape - distinctly. "Do you have- do you have anything for me to eat, then?"

"Because of course I'll have a nice souffle and a pot of cocoa ready in case anyone wants a midnight snack?" Although cocoa did sound good. "I could say the same to you, about the killing in one's sleep issue." Still fighting back low-grade hysteria, Severus leaned against the corner. "What do you want to eat, then?"

"A sandwich would be appreciated, if you don't mind. Anything, actually, I'm not that picky." He tried not to seem desperate - he'd barely eaten in a week, and he was starving.

"I still haven't killed anyone," Remus said, fighting back his own hysterical smile. "Not in their sleep, anyway. Not at all, I mean. Although now I haven't got the Wolfsbane, so. Gardener's shed has good locks on it."

He knew he was babbling, he just hadn't figured out yet how to stop it.

Severus forcibly bit back the first half dozen sarcastic comments that came to mind. "I'm sure I'm capable of preparing a sandwich," he said a bit stiffly, rummaging in the tall steel commercial-model refrigerators for suitable sandwich-fixings, coming up with ham, onions, and some nice sharp mustard. "You sound almost disappointed. Maybe I should worry about you killing me in my sleep." I should make myself a sandwich while I'm at it.

"Unless you sleepwalk on the Manor grounds at night, Severus, I doubt there's any reason for you to worry," Remus said nervously.

"Um. I go by Roman here - I know it's ridiculous, I hadn't expected anyone to come looking. It's just for clients, anyway." He looked away, at the walls.

"So, tell me, Severus, why Tadfield? Why not with Voldemort? What happened that you left?"

"Roman? Is that meant to be inconspicuous?" Severus busied himself slicing ham and spreading mustard. "And I'm not exactly in favor with either side, am I? So I had to go somewhere. I might as well ask why you're here and not doing scutwork for the Order."

"Did you want to know? Since Dumbledore died, the Order seemed to have gone downhill. Fenrir, if you recall, was part of my mission, and... well. I would never sacrifice my humanity - what is left of it - for a corrupted Order." He shifted away from the wall and pulled up a stool. "Anyway,I'm here because I have a job, same as you."

Remus sighed and watched Snape make the sandwiches, hunger in his eyes. "So, Severus, what happened to make Voldemort displeased with you? I rather think that whole business with the Headmaster would have put you in his good graces..." He knew he was needling Snape, a habit learned long ago from others, but he needed to know.

"Hardly. Good little double agents don't make dramatic scenes on rooftops, or interfere when someone's being used as an example." Handing Remus one sandwich, he leaned again the counter with the other, staring at it to avoid having to look up.

"Ah, thank you," Remus said gratefully, taking the sandwich. He smiled in bliss as he took his first bite.

"You cook well," he murmured, after finishing his sandwich in record time. "So, ah, is this a temporary truce? We both have jobs to be getting on with, and for once, we're not being asked to work together. Thank god," Remus said, laughing. He caught Snape's expression and winked. "Can cook as well as I brew potions, myself."

Remus stretched and grinned, relaxed now that he was somewhat fed. "Have you seen the library yet?"

"Making a sandwich is hardly cooking," Severus replied crossly. "And as a matter of fact I haven't. I've just arrived, actually."

"Well, it's a nice one. Nothing close to Hogwarts, of course, but it has some spell books. Doubt the Muggles knew what to do with them, but there you are." Remus yawned.

"You're good at making sandwiches, then. Could I possibly have another? I'll make it myself, if you want me to touch any of your tools. I've already warned you how disastrous I am in the kitchen."

"It's my job," he said quietly. Busying himself fixing a sandwich was good. It gave him something else to look at. "I'll make a point of looking at it, then." Severus knew his voice sounded a little forced, stiff and a bit over-loud. "I haven't been able to read much lately."

Remus smiled half-heartedly. "Really? That's surprising. After all, running away from the Death Eaters and the Wizarding World, beginning a new job as a chef, no less... One would think you had all the time in the world to read."

He glanced up at Severus again. "I know, I'm not cut out for sarcasm, Severus. You don't have to glare at me like that. May I please have my sandwich?"

"Are you sure you wouldn't rather I made you several to take away with you? You've already made a point of saying how pleased you are not to be working with me, I'm sure you'd rather not spend unnecessary time in my presence."

"I'd rather be in here than out there, most of the time. And you do have intelligent conversation, regardless of how you treat fellow employees. Besides, at this time of night, how many are awake to debate on the nature of the Wizarding World?" Remus offered him a smile, to show he wasn't completely hostile. This one was less mocking than the others.

"The nature of it?" Raising an eyebrow, he leaned back against the counter. "Doesn't 'stagnant and corrupt' sum it up neatly?"

Remus laughed, although it was not an entirely pleasant laugh. It appeared so, but not to anyone who knew him well. "I'd forgotten you have such a sense of humour, Severus."

"Of course you did." He smiled grimly. "I'm sure it's far more comforting to think of me as entirely lacking in redeeming qualities and simple human attributes."

"It does make life simpler," Remus replied cheekily, then sobered. "Severus, it is getting late. Thank you for the sandwiches, and perhaps I'll step in later. It seems your cooking tastes better than your potions, anyway." He couldn't help that last bit; memories of Wolfsbane and the horrid taste were forever scarred into his brain.

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