A Measure of Faith, 1/3

Title: A Measure of Faith
By: arionrhod and scribbulus_ink
Rated: hard R
Pairing: Snape/Lupin
Summary: In the years following the end of the war, Remus Lupin sought to gain peace and healing by joining the brotherhood of Downside Abbey. He thinks he's found his path until Severus Snape shows up and throws his life and his choices into confusion.
Word Count: 29,162
Author's Notes: Happy birthday, ellid! We hope you enjoy it. :)

Soundtrack:
Sadeness, by Enigma
Push the Limits, by Enigma
Kyrie XI, A, from Chant
Mea Culpa, by Enigma
O Quam Mirabilis, from Vision
O Vas Nobile, from Vision

Part One | Part Two | Part Three

"And as Saint Benedict advises us, my brothers and sisters, do not let the sun go down on your anger. Make peace in your heart every night so that you may greet the dawn of each new day with praises upon your lips, and with the joy of knowing that you go forth to do God's work, for the praise and glory of his name, Amen. Let us pray..."

Silence descended on the assembled congregation, monks and the guests alike bowing their heads in reverence in the semidarkness of the chapel. Remus schooled his own thoughts to tranquility, giving joyful thanks for the peace of this day and praying to find it yet again on the morrow. He had known many days of peace now, more than ever before in his life, and for a man such as himself, haunted by ghosts and curses which had plagued him for almost the whole of his life, it was a rare gift indeed.

Softly, the voices of the choir rose, the harmonious tones of the monks chanting the Salve Regina to close the Compline service.

Salve, Regina, Mater misericordiae,

Vita, dulcedo, et spes nostra, salve.

Ad te clamamus, exsules filii Hevae,

Ad te suspiramus, gementes et flentes

In hac lacrimarum valle.

Remus' added his voice to theirs, his heart feeling the words in English even as he chanted the Latin.

Hail, holy Queen, Mother of Mercy,

our life, our sweetness and our hope.

To thee do we cry, poor banished children of Eve;

to thee do we send up our sighs,

mourning and weeping in this vale of tears.

Remus had done his share of mourning and weeping over the course of two wars and the deaths of more loved ones than he cared to count. But he stilled his heart, letting the soothing phrases of the hymn remind him that even for those such as he, there were places where it was still possible to find healing and acceptance. That all men suffered, but that the holy Church and the grace of God were there to offer sanctuary to even the most battered soul.

The Downside Abbey was one such place, and as the chant swelled, Remus lifted his eyes to the vaulted ceiling which arched overhead, its farthest reaches lost in the dimness of the candles that provided the only light used for this service. Remus could hear how the human voices rang high upon the ancient stones, bouncing back doubled and redoubled as though the voices of all the monks who had ever worshipped in this place were being replayed, adding their voices to the joyous sounds of devotion.

It was such a powerful feeling that it almost seemed like magic, and although no one here practiced Wizardry, Remus wouldn't be surprised if divine inspiration created a magic all its own. His spirits rose with the voices, and as the last phrase died away, Remus held his breath, wanting to cling to the uplifting sensation for as long as he possibly could.

As with all things, however, it had to end, and Remus sighed. Tomorrow night, however, it would be the same, and he could stand once again with the worshippers and join them in the celebration of peace. For now, however, he joined the line of people who were departing the chapel, feeling the cool sprinkle of Holy Water upon his face as the Abbot, the head of the Benedictine Community of St. Gregory the Great, blessed each person, sending layman and monk alike off to the Summum Silentium, the silence of the night which St. Benedict commanded in his Rule.

There wasn't a sound beyond the soft shuffle of feet as the monks made their way toward their dormitory to spend the time between now and Lauds - the second of the morning services - in a combination of sleep and prayer. Remus stood on the grounds, watching the sway of their black robes, darker shadows against the dimness of the English twilight. He smiled softly to himself, wishing them well and yearning for the day not quite a month hence when he would take his own vows and join them, his brothers for the rest of his life.

But that time had not yet come, and he turned away, walking slowly back toward the Monastery guesthouse, where he was staying in retreat until the time arrived for him to join the Brotherhood fully. As a seeker to the vocation, he attended services with them and took meals with them in the refectory, but at night, he was once again on his own, out in the "real world", or as close to it as he could bear to be. It was a long way from London, from Hogwarts, and from the Wizarding world, but it was here that Remus had chosen to be, and, amazingly enough, he had been chosen in return.

The Abbot knew of his lycanthropy, and what was more, he hadn't even been surprised by it. Muggle though the Abbot was, he was no less familiar with the wizards and witches of this world than he was with the angels and demons of the next. Remus supposed he shouldn't have been surprised, but he had been, especially at the acceptance he had found. Henri had said he would find as much when he had suggested Remus try a retreat at Downside at the time when Remus' heart had been shattered into pieces and his life had seemed bleaker than it ever had before, but Remus couldn't help being skeptical.

The end of the War and the death of Voldemort had been a release for many, but by the time Remus had counted up his dead, he had felt as though he had little reason to go on living at all. In despair, he had turned to a friend, a priest who was also a wizard and a werewolf. Father Henri Manette was the Alpha of a werewolf pack with whom Remus had spent some time during the war while recruiting assistance for the Order, and he and Remus had formed a deep and immediate friendship, based on a recognition in each other of a kindred spirit.

Sensing the wounded soul within Remus, Henri had gently urged Remus to take a holiday, recommending that he go to an old friend who was head of a Monastery in the south of England. Trusting Henri's judgment - and having little else to do - Remus had taken the suggestion, not expecting any more from it than to remove himself from the world for a time. He had been born and raised Catholic, a legacy from his Muggle mother, but his faith had been long gone by the time he had made his way to Downside Abbey, where he had not been questioned about his reason for coming, but had simply been welcomed with open arms.

That was three years ago, and now, after an emotional and spiritual journey which was unlike anything Remus could ever have imagined, he stood on the threshold of one of the most momentous occasions of his life, about to enter into a joining that would give him a place to belong for the rest of his days.

Soon, he thought tranquilly, content to wait. For the first time in his life, his future was secure, and he had a purpose and a sense of belonging. He would never have a spouse, a mate or offspring, but he would have brothers and students and a Father to share his life, to guide him and comfort him, and to be guided and comforted by him in turn. For a cursed, penniless werewolf, it was more than he ever dreamed he could achieve.

The scent of roses wafted toward him on the warm night air, and he found his feet turning of their own volition toward the garden walk. The moon, three days from being full, cast long shadows down the path, but Remus had no fear of the darkness, not in this place. The white gravel of the walk glowed, and he wandered aimlessly among the summer foliage, giving silent thanks for the beauty around him and the stillness of his heart.

Severus strode purposefully along the path, his booted feet crunching on the gravel as he sought his quarry. The hunt had taken longer than expected, but it had proved fruitful in the end, although he was surprised it had led him here, of all places.

A lone figure wandered up ahead, and Severus peered at it; even though the moon was growing full, it didn't shed enough light for him to see clearly, but judging from the figure's height, build and profile, he thought he had found Remus Lupin at last.

Remus was walking slowly, thus it only took a little effort to catch up, and his lip curled in a sneer as he drew nearer and saw Remus was wearing the robes of a monk. It was a jarring surprise as well as a disappointment; he had never pegged Remus for the type to sequester himself in a monastery. It struck him as odd, and he wondered what had prompted the decision; somehow he doubted a sudden, profound religious conversation was behind it, and he burned with curiosity to know what the real reason was.

"Well, well, well," he drawled, his tone scathing. "What have we here? A wolf wearing Lamb's clothing."

With a muffled cry of surprise - the discipline of the nightly silence had taken root for Remus already, even though, for him, it was not yet a sin to break it - Remus turned, eyes widening as he stared in shock at his unexpected visitor. There was no mistaking the tall, rather menacing form who stood before him, pale skin luminous in the moonlight, eyes like glittering black stones. Remus didn't have to see the sneer on Severus' lips; he could hear it in the deep tones of Severus' voice, and he unconsciously straightened his back, although mentally, he chastised himself for the sins of anger and pride Severus' words immediately aroused in him.

"Even werewolves are the children of God, and even the darkest soul can find salvation," Remus replied, his tones hushed. Now that his surprise had worn off, Remus felt a complex mixture of emotions as he looked at Severus, at someone from a life he had left behind with few regrets. But even though Severus was a jarring reminder of things Remus would rather keep safely packed in the cocoon of peaceful acceptance in which he had buried them, he couldn't deny a sense of curiosity at why Severus had come here. Perhaps it was nothing more than coincidence, although Remus had long ago learned to mistrust things which appeared to happen by accident.

"Is there something I can do for you, Severus? If you are looking for the chapel, it's back along the path. The last service of the day is over, but if you wish to pray, no one will turn you away."

Remus was glad that his voice was steady, his tone tranquil. No matter what Severus' purpose here, it was better to show no weakness in front of Severus; the man could find the tiniest chink in one's armor, and he wouldn't hesitate to worry at it until it became a gaping hole.

Severus let out a mocking laugh, making no attempt to hide his amusement at the idea. "I? Bleat in the chapel along with the other sheep? No, thank you. That isn't what I came for."

It was on the tip of Remus' tongue to take exception to Severus' words, but he reminded himself that he knew Severus well. Severus was trying to goad him, and the only way to deal with it was to do what he had done for years, no matter what Severus said or did. Peace, he thought, taking a breath and reminding himself of what he had discovered here. The past was gone, and Remus had a future now.

"I see," he replied, giving Severus a smile that he hoped looked serene. "Well, everyone must find their own path to redemption. I hope you find yours, as I have found mine." Remus paused, and then he decided he really had no choice but to ask the obvious. "If you aren't here for prayer, Severus, then why have you come?"

Severus studied Remus in silence for a moment, taking in his new demeanor. Remus had always projected an outer calm, a trait that had often infuriated Severus in the past when he wanted nothing more than to ruffle Remus' feathers. But now, it seemed to go deeper, as if the peace he showed on the outside came from within rather than having been constructed and worn like a mask. It was an unexpected change, but one that Severus didn't intend to let stand in his way.

It had taken time, but he too had found his peace and regained his sense of purpose. He knew what he wanted. And he intended to get it.

Closing the distance between them, he moved into Remus' personal space, letting Remus feel the overlap of their body heat in the cool night air, and he reached out to frame Remus' face between his hands. Stroking Remus' cheeks gently with his thumbs, he bent his head and brushed his lips against Remus', finding them soft and warm and utterly tempting. With a soft moan at tasting what he'd dreamt of for so long, he deepened the kiss, skimming his tongue along Remus' bottom lip as he sought entrance.

If he was wrong about Remus, no doubt he would find himself knocked on his arse for his pains, but if he was right... Well, the die had been cast, and Severus hoped for once, Fate would be on his side.

Of all the things that Remus had expected to happen, Severus Snape kissing him was definitely not among them.

He had grown wary when Severus stepped closer, and he had stiffened instinctively at the feeling of Severus' hands on his face. Yet he hadn't pulled away, his eyes widening as he stopped breathing, stopped thinking, the warm press of Severus' lips driving everything else from his mind.

There were things about himself that Remus had accepted long ago, back in his life-that-had-been. One of them was that he was attracted to both men and women, a symptom, he had often thought, of his desire to please everyone and find the acceptance he found so elusive. He was not inexperienced sexually with either gender, but neither had he allowed himself to indulge often in pleasures of the flesh. It was too complicated, too dangerous, and ultimately, as he had discovered when Tonks had died in the war, too painful to love.

But despite his long standing celibacy, or perhaps because of it, he felt himself responding to the seductive slide of Severus' tongue, the sound of Severus' moan shooting tingles along his spine like a bolt of lightning. His lips parted on a sigh, and Remus felt his eyes closing, his body swaying as if to move closer to Severus, to accept the temptation being so blatantly offered.

The chapel bells tolled the hour of nine, and his obedience to the summons of the Liturgy of the Hours caused Remus to stiffen once more. With a gasp, Remus broke away, taking several steps back from Severus, the gravel crunching beneath his sandals as he nearly stumbled. Eyes wide with horror, he strove to find his equilibrium, his lips moving in what should have been the prayer for None, but the words weren't anything more than a weak denial of what had just happened.

As the last peal of the bells died away, Remus shuddered, panting heavily until he could summon enough breath to speak. "I don't know why you did that, but it doesn't matter," he said, desperately seeking his inner peace, the balance which had been his mainstay, his joy. For the first time in over a year, it eluded him completely, making him feel as though he were adrift in a stormy sea with no port in sight. Severus desired him for a reason Remus couldn't fathom, but the wolf instinctively recognized it as genuine desire. The world had tilted on its axis, becoming surreal, and Remus reached out for the one truth that he could still find. "I'm promised to God."

The worst part was, Remus wasn't certain if he were trying to convince Severus or himself.

Severus let out a derisive snort. Remus may have found his peace through faith, but promising himself to God was doomed to failure. Remus was an earthly being, a creature of sensuality in all aspects of the word, and he had no business shutting himself away in this place. He wouldn't thrive; he would waste away, his wild nature languishing for lack of stimulation.

"Then you're a fool," Severus retorted, moving forward and snaking his hand out to capture Remus', holding it tightly. "God can't make you feel the way that kiss did. You don't belong here, and if you hold to this promise you've made, you will wither and die."

He tugged Remus' hand, trying to urge him close again, his voice a low and sultry purr. "You may have found peace in this refuge, but it must be a temporary measure. It's time to enter the world again, and I have come to fetch you."

Temptation... if there had ever been a Serpent in the Garden, this was it in a fashion far more literal that Remus had thought possible. He didn't understand why Severus wanted him, but the desire was there between them, as real as their joined hands. Desperately, Remus looked for his faith, for the font of strength that had led him and kept him here.

Monastery life wasn't easy, but Remus hadn't been looking for a life of leisure. The vows of poverty and obedience were as nothing to him after the life of privation he had lived. The practice of service, likewise, was nothing to him, and he looked forward to days spent teaching the young men of the school and nights spent in quiet prayer. Chastity hadn't even occurred to him as being a temptation; it was simply a non-issue.

Until now.

A part of Remus he had thought dried up and dead suddenly sprang to heart-pounding life, sending the blood coursing through his veins like fire. He didn't know why Severus was here and apparently bent on luring Remus away from the life he was making for himself and the path he had chosen, but Remus knew he must not give in. No matter how much the wolf within was clamoring for release, to be allowed to take what Severus seemed to be offering.

His lycanthropy was Dark, but not evil. The only evil to be found was in his own actions, by what he chose to do or not to do. Faith was what gave one the strength to stand against evil, whether the vexing impulses were from outside or from within oneself. Faith was both weapon and defense, and Remus was horrified by how difficult it was to find his when he needed it so desperately.

"No," he said, ignoring the tingles which shot up his arm from the grasp of Severus' hand. He yanked his hand away, backing away from Severus. "You're wrong. You have no right to say these things. You have no right..." to tempt me with lies. Whatever reason he gives for being here, it must be a lie.

"Perhaps I don't have the right, but I have the duty to warn you of the colossal mistake you are making," Severus retorted. "I can scarcely believe no one has tried to talk you out of this before. Do they have so little understanding of you that they fail to realize what being shut away here will do to you, or do they simply not care? And you - are you trying to suffocate your own spirit?

He gazed at Remus, feeling both pity and censure as he studied Remus' quiet, subdued manner. "I'm disappointed in you, Remus. You always seemed to be a survivor, facing your obstacles rather than running away, no matter how often life tried to beat you down. In that, I thought we were alike. Perhaps I was wrong."

Remus blinked. He called me by my given name... he's never done that before. Never.

The entire situation was totally beyond Remus' comprehension. Severus hated him and always had. Hated him for being who and what he was, never missing any opportunity to tell him so in the most derisive ways possible. Severus had cost him his job, had revealed his secret. How could he possibly be here now, three years after the end of the war, barging into Remus' life and disrupting his security? Why would he care what Remus was doing or how he had chosen to live his life?

It could only be for vengeance, Remus decided, latching on to the one possibility that felt familiar in relation to Severus. Perhaps the scent of desire the wolf could detect was nothing more than the effects of a lust potion. Severus was a master of his craft, after all, both as Potions master and spy. Even if he had been vindicated for Albus' death, had been an actual hero in the war, Remus knew that Severus was no saint, and that his thirst for revenge ran deep indeed. Remus needed to remember that and not be fooled. It must have been the shock of seeing Severus again so unexpectedly which had thrown him off balance and shaken him so badly. Now that he understood what must be happening, he felt more grounded.

"I see," he said, once again reaching for his inner calm and finding some measure of it. "Perhaps we are alike, in some ways. We both have a darkness within us, don't we? We both have survived against all the odds. We have faced our own deaths, and... we have both killed." Remus' voice was raw with pain as he faced again the inner demon which was the source of so much of his pain. "Faith and the Church saved my life, gave me a purpose and a place to belong when I had none, when I wanted nothing more than to die. I'm not here to suffocate my spirit, but to finally find peace and redemption. If we are as alike as you have claimed, I would think you could understand that."

Severus scrutinized Remus with narrowed eyes, listening intently to what Remus said as well as what he didn't say. He could hear the pain in Remus' voice, but while he had a certain amount of understanding, even sympathy for what Remus had suffered, he had no intention of letting Remus wallow in it. No, what Remus needed was a good shaking up, and Severus was just the one to do it.

Not now, however. Remus was on guard and defensive, and anything Severus said now would fall on deaf ears, because Remus didn't want to hear it. It would take patience and determination to wear him down, but Severus had never let anything stand in the way of reaching his goal, including a certain stubborn werewolf's resolution to run away.

"Fine!" He infused his voice with disgust and threw up both hands. "Have it your way. "You call it peace. I call it running away, but I refuse to stand here and belabor the point."

Which was true enough. He didn't intend to remain and argue; instead, he would retreat and regroup, and he would be back when he had figured out how best to begin storming the barricades Remus had erected around himself.

Pivoting on his heel, he stormed off in a presumed huff, not once looking back.

Remus stared at Severus' retreating back until he was swallowed by the darkness, frowning in renewed confusion. It was unlike Severus to give up so easily, especially in matters of vengeance. Severus could be single-minded when it came to hatred, and it made Remus uneasy at the way Severus had left, his sudden capitulation having a disturbing air of unfinished business about it.

Sighing, Remus turned back toward the chapel. There was peace in prayer, and from the way he felt right now, Remus thought he might be spending the rest of the night trying to find it.

---

"Thank you for coming, Remus. I hope it isn't too soon after your ordeal?"

The Abbot's voice was full of concern, and Remus smiled as he took the proffered hand, feeling the warmth and strength of the Abbot's clasp. "No, Father. I was fatigued yesterday, but I am much better today. Thank you for sending Brother Esteban to check on me; the soup was very much appreciated as well."

"You're welcome, my son," the Abbot replied, smiling as he gestured toward one of the comfortable chairs in front of his desk, a silent invitation for Remus to sit. "You're one of us in all but the formalities, after all. We care for you as one of our own."

Abbot Young moved to take the seat behind the polished mahogany desk, and from this, Remus knew the visit was more along the lines of "official business" rather than a personal conversation. Brother Esteban had delivered the request along with the soup, making it seem like an unofficial summons, but for informal chats, the Abbot tended to prefer the intimacy of the sofa and chairs on the other side of his office rather than the more formal - and in a very real way, authoritative - position behind the desk.

"Thank you. That means a great deal to me," Remus said, meaning it with every fiber of his being. He did belong here among the quiet serenity of the brotherhood, despite what Severus had said. He wanted to be here, and he was accepted in return. It had taken long hours of prayer and reflection to deal with the unease Severus' visit had sown within him, but he had managed it. Through the power of faith and the grace of God, he had banished his demons... hopefully permanently.

"As you have probably guessed, I haven't asked you here for just a chat," Abbot Young said, and Remus nodded. "In fact, it seems that you have the opportunity to do our Order a service, if you are willing. A special case is coming to the retreat which begins tomorrow, a case which you are in a unique position to understand."

Remus' eyes widened. "Of course I'll help, Father," he said at once. "Anything you ask. I owe you and the brotherhood so much already, and I am happy to help in any way I can."

"Excellent!" Father Young smiled, obviously pleased with Remus' eagerness. "Normally we wouldn't ask someone not under vows to mentor a person who is on a vocational retreat, but you have less than a month until then, and there are other considerations in this case. You have something significant in common with him, and that is more important."

"Another werewolf?" Remus asked, feeling a surge of sympathy for the unknown man. Remus was the only werewolf here at the Abbey at the moment, but he was not the first to ever join the brotherhood. He of all people understood the need a lycanthrope often felt to atone, and he was humbled by the trust the Abbot was placing in him to give him stewardship over a soul in need.

"Actually, no." The Abbot smiled. "I meant a different commonality - he's a Wizard. You of all people know the challenges faced in giving up a gift like magic, of denying a part of yourself because The Rule requires it of us."

Remus felt a sudden knot of dread form in his stomach, and he told himself sternly to stop being foolish. It couldn't be... "A Wizard, Father?"

"Yes. In fact, he specifically requested that you mentor him during the retreat, as he knows you and feels comfortable with you. I explained that you were not yet a monk in fact, but he didn't seem to mind. He seems to believe you are uniquely qualified to help him in this, and I agree. He said you went to school together, actually. Do you remember a man named Severus Snape?"

The knot in his gut suddenly seemed to explode, and Remus gasped in horrified dismay. "Father... I... cannot believe this man is serious about exploring a vocation," Remus said hurriedly. "He... he and I have a rather checkered history, one far more recent than our school years. He was a spy during the war. A double agent. And he hates me."

"I believe you are quite wrong about that," the Abbot replied calmly, seeming unfazed by Remus objection. "He told me you were estranged over his actions in the war, but he wishes to repent and receive forgiveness for his sins. Part of that, he made quite clear, was receiving your forgiveness as well. As a man who has faced his demons, I'm sure you can understand that."

Remus shook his head. "Father, this man was a spy. He fought for the side of the Light, it's true, but... he's..." Remus paused, searching for words that could explain the history between himself and Severus. "He came here the other night, and he told me I was a fool for wanting to remain here. He said we were too much alike, and that being here would suffocate me. He was trying to get me to leave, he..."

The Abbot held up a hand, and he looked at Remus, seeming to gaze through him in a way that reminded Remus disturbingly of Albus Dumbledore. "My son, ours is not to question when the faith moves a soul, but to try to nurture it if we can. If he is false in his desire or in his nature, he will not remain. And if you are true in yours, you will not be tempted to leave. He has asked for your help and for your absolution. As a man of God and a monk of this Order, it is your duty not only to seek forgiveness, but to grant it when it is asked of you as well. Would you deny this man, Remus? Remember, it is among our teachings that as you do to one, so you do to all."

There was no argument Remus could possibly bring to that. The Abbot spoke not only from a position of authority, but also from a foundation of absolute faith. This was a test of Remus' faith, and he knew it; if he were to deny his duty, to refuse Severus in this, he could not remain at the Abbey. He would have failed to do the very things which four weeks hence he was going to take a formal vow to do for the rest of his life.

"Yes, Father, I understand," Remus replied, his voice much quieter than his racing thoughts. Unfortunately, there was a great deal of difference between understanding and peaceful acceptance. "I will do as you ask."

Abbot Young smiled, and Remus thought there was more than a little sympathy in his eyes. "Thank you, my son. You will see this is as necessary for you in as many ways as it is for him. We all are here in this Abbey for a common reason, you know... not because it is easy, but because it is hard. But your faith will sustain you, through this as through all else. Look within yourself, Remus, and do what you know is right. This is the only way to true redemption."

Remus nodded. The decision was made, and all he could do was what the Abbot had said. "I'll try, Father. I promise you that I will do the best that I can."

The blue eyes twinkled, and again Remus was reminded of someone else, someone who had also been very wise. Someone who had died in order to do what was right for the world, sacrificed himself for those he loved. Remus wondered if Albus Dumbledore had consciously been emulating the example of the Lamb who had died for them all, and perhaps if he had been even firmer in his faith than Remus had ever imagined.

"Go now, my son, and pray..." Abbot Young said gently. "And know that my prayers will also be with you."

"Thank you, Father," Remus replied, rising to his feet. The Abbot rose as well, making the sign of the cross before him and giving Remus his blessing, and then Remus turned, leaving the office and heading once more toward the chapel.

Tomorrow, the greatest test of Remus' life would begin. He could only hope that his faith would be enough to see him through.

---

"Welcome to Downside Abbey. I am Abbot Young. We are pleased to see so many of you here to explore the call to a religious life."

Standing with three of the Brethren on the dais of the small meeting room, Remus schooled his features to serenity and looked out at the men who had come for the retreat. Some of them were answering a call, while others might just be curious, but they were all equally accepted in the eyes of God. Even the dark-haired man who was to be Remus' special responsibility, and who, Remus felt, was there for reasons far less noble than those of anyone else.

Remus deliberately forced himself to look at the other men first. There were nine others besides Severus, most of them looking little older than Harry and Ron as he had last seen them. They were young men of different races, different backgrounds, different upbringings, but all of them answering the same still, small Voice which spoke within their hearts.

The Abbot was explaining the schedule, the lessons on the Rule of Saint Benedict, the history of the Order, and the routine and duties of the monks. Remus could read the avid interest on those eager young faces, see the burning in more than one pair of eyes as the Abbot spoke of the love of God and the community of the Brotherhood. These were men who believed, who had come to find something the secular world couldn't offer. It varied in each case, but the desire had all led them to a common place, one uniquely qualified to nourish the soul through the obedience of the mind and body.

Abbot Young explained about the Sacraments, and when the Rite of Reconciliation was mentioned, Remus' gaze at last moved to Severus, his dark hair standing out against the pale cream of the wall behind him. Would Severus go to confession, as was required? And if so, would he risk either exposing his plan by telling the truth, or committing a sin by omitting it?

Severus listened to the Abbot attentively, taking note of the rules, routines and duties; as long as he was here, he would obey out of respect for the institution even if his motives for being here were less pure than the other men beside him. In spite of what Remus might think after their encounter a few nights before, Severus didn't disdain religion or the vocation in general; he had wrestled enough with the issue of faith in his life to understand its importance, and it wasn't the fact that Remus had found faith that he objected to, but rather that Remus was hiding behind it.

Outwardly, he appeared to be oblivious to Remus' presence, his attention focused on Abbot Young, but in truth, he was keenly aware of Remus, something deep within his soul attuned to Remus' quiet presence. He longed for the time when he could speak privately with Remus and begin his attempt to burrow beneath Remus' defenses. He had a few weeks left before Remus took his vows and was lost to him forever, and he intended to make the most of that time.

The Abbot began taking questions, and the eager, earnest young men raised their hands, but Severus took the opportunity to let his gaze stray to Remus for the first time, watching Remus and making little effort to hide the hunger in his eyes as he devoured the sight of Remus' face, ordinary to the world, yet beautiful to him.

Severus hadn't been looking in his direction when Remus glanced his way, and so he let his eyes linger, studying Severus intently as though he could divine the other man's thoughts by the expression on his face. Remus had neither magic nor Legilimency to aid him, and Severus was the most powerful Occlumens Remus had ever known; all Remus could perceive was intense concentration on Severus' face, an expression as focussed as any of the other candidates. He only just managed to repress a sigh.

When the questioning began, Remus turned his attention back to the others, answering the inquiries Abbot Young directed to him. All of the brothers were asked about their reasons for joining, and Remus spoke briefly of his desire for a life of peace and service, and of how he had been heart sick and lonely for so long, but had found healing in the practice of his faith and the community of the Order. It was more complex than that, of course, but the answer satisfied the questioner, and the Abbot moved on.

Once the focus of the room left him, Remus became aware of another regard, one that somehow alerted the wolf within to the presence of danger. Instinctively, Remus looked at Severus once more, drawing in a silent gasp as their gazes locked. Severus' eyes burned, the heat in them almost scorching Remus where he stood.

He couldn't look away, that predatory gaze causing the wolf within to raise its hackles. A slow flush rose in Remus' cheeks, and his own eyes flashed golden as the wolf answered the challenge before Remus could stop it.

Severus listened with particular interest when Remus began to explain why he had come to the monastery and why he had chosen to take the vows. He dismissed the prating about a desire for peace and servitude; that was just empty noise as far as Severus was concerned, a cover for the real reasons, which he suspected lay in Remus' comments about being heartsick and lonely. Remus thought he had found companionship here, but he was wrong; what he had found was a way to be around people without becoming attached to them, thus keeping himself safe from harm. Having mastered that art over his lifetime, Severus could see it clearly.

Unless Severus missed his guess, it seemed the war and its accompanying losses had damaged Remus, perhaps broken his spirit. Severus could understand that. But Severus also knew that crawling in a hole and never coming out again was not a viable option for a true survivor, and Remus was a survivor. What he needed, in Severus' opinion, was a reminder that even a shattered soul could be mended. It would be flawed and cracked and perhaps not as pretty as it was before, but it would be whole again.

Of all people, Severus knew whereof he spoke.

Had Remus not responded to his kiss, he wouldn't have returned to the monastery. That kiss had revealed secrets, whether Remus realized it or not. Remus hadn't pulled back or pushed Severus away, and his first words had not been, "I'm sorry, but I'm not interested in you that way." No, he had issued a reminder - perhaps to Severus or perhaps to himself - that he belonged to God. Hardly the words of a man who found Severus undesirable. There was something between them, and Remus knew it.

Even now, Remus' eyes were glowing in a way that had nothing to do with spiritual zeal; the light in his eyes was earthly and carnal, and the golden glow warmed Severus to the core. He wanted to see the wolf rising in Remus' eyes; it would be his ally in this venture, for no doubt it had no more desire to be repressed, locked away in a fortress of ice and solitude, than Severus desired to see it repressed.

A small, pleased smile tugged at the corners of his mouth when he noticed the attractive flush rising in Remus' cheeks. It too answered Severus' unspoken questions, telling him more than he imagined Remus wanted him to know. He had a chance. Remus' heart was battered and broken, but his spirit was still strong.

After the questions were all answered, the Abbot bade them all to find their assigned quarters in the guesthouse and settle in while they had some free time in their schedule, but while the others filed out, Severus lingered behind, stopping Remus with a touch on his arm.

"I understand the Abbot has acquiesced to my request for a particular mentor," he said. His tone was bland, but the gleam in his eyes was not. "I look forward to working closely with you."

Remus had hoped to slip away from the meeting unnoticed, desperately needing a few minutes alone to gather himself. The look he and Severus had exchanged left him feeling flustered, and he wanted to have a chance to reassemble his defenses before having to face Severus directly. As rattled as he was from a mere meeting of eyes, he knew he wasn't ready to deal with Severus one on one.

Unfortunately, Severus seemed in no hurry to depart, and Remus hastily brought up the shield of detached politeness which he hadn't needed in the last three years. He needed it, to help him deal with Severus standing close and reaching out to touch him.

"Yes," Remus replied, hating the neutral, almost dead tone of his voice. He'd forgotten how it felt to have to mask his real feelings, but he had no choice at the moment, not if he were to survive the retreat. "We will begin at the evening meal in the refectory. I will see you then." With a polite but distant smile, Remus turned away.

"That's it?" Severus slid his hand down the length of Remus' arm and curled his fingers around Remus' wrist. "No pithy words of advice? No inspirational talk on the joys of the vocation? You were assigned to mentor me, were you not?" He shot Remus a challenging look, a silent dare designed to rouse the wolf as well as Remus' pride. "So mentor me properly, or I shall be forced to discuss your neglect with Abbot Young."

His arm seemed to burn where Severus had touched, and Remus made an abortive movement to snatch his hand away from Severus' grasp. There were others still in the room, however, talking animatedly only a few feet away, and Remus could not bring himself to make a scene that might embarrass the Abbey. He would simply have to endure it, as yet another test of his faith and his vocation.

Fortunately, he didn't have to endure it in silence. He dropped his voice, his tone pitched for Severus' ears alone. "I will not offer you pithy advice if you are going to stand there and lie about exploring a vocation," he said. A surge of anger welled up within him. "Using the Church and the Abbot as tools to seek revenge seems to me a rather reprehensible sin, Severus. If you believe in sin any more than you believe in forgiveness or sanctity."

"You would be right," Severus said, moving to stand closer to Remus so the others in the room couldn't overhear their conversation. "If I were indeed here to seek revenge on you. I am not." He slid his thumb down and stroked the sensitive underside of Remus' wrist lightly. "I was honest with you about my reasons for seeking you out. Perhaps you should examine the state of your own soul if you cannot recognize the truth when it is staring you in the face."

With that, he bent until they were almost nose to nose, and he captured Remus' gaze, holding it with fierce intensity as he spoke directly to the wolf. "But in case you did not understand the message the other night, I will speak plainly. I am here to offer you freedom and acceptance of a different kind than you will find here. I am here because I want you. I will even swear that out of respect for this hallowed ground, I will neither lie nor prevaricate to you at any time while I am here. You will hear only the truth from me. Whether you can accept it or not is your own affair to deal with."

Remus drew in a startled breath as Severus moved closer to him. Hastily he glanced to the side to see if anyone was observing them, but the rest of the young men seemed absorbed in their own conversations. He kept his hand limp, refusing to let Severus see how the touch was affecting him. He shouldn't allow it to affect him; it was a sin, and between it and the anger, he seemed unable to completely suppress, Remus knew he was going to have a great deal for which to atone.

Why did Severus affect him this way? he wondered, once again trying to reconstruct the defenses he hadn't had to use in a very long time. Only the fact that he had given his word to the Abbot that he would not shirk his duty kept him from denouncing Severus then and there, so desperate was he to be free of the turmoil Severus seemed able to bring forth in him all too easily. There had been a time when his armor had been so thick that nothing Severus said or did could have fazed him, but he had shed it along with his magic, believing that he would never again have need of it. How wrong he had been!

"I examine my soul every day, Severus, and more importantly, so does God," he replied as calmly as he could. The wolf within him was responding to the blatant challenge Severus was offering, and that made it all the more difficult for Remus to keep his temper. "While my faith and my conscience both demand of me that I must forgive you for any wrongs you have done to me, they do not compel me to trust you blindly simply because you claim to tell the truth. You show up here out of the blue, trying to tempt me away from the life I have chosen. Why should I believe that you hate me any less now than you have for all the years we have known one another? Especially when your motives are admittedly selfish?" His eyes flashed again, the wolf raising its head at Remus' anger.

"I don't hate you," Severus replied calmly, still stroking Remus' wrist. He could feel the flutter of Remus' pulse, the rapid tempo speaking of agitation and perhaps something more, belying the limpness of Remus' hand. "I have no desire to hurt you, either. However, I understand your reticence. Short of promising to leave and never return to this place, what would you have me do to prove I mean you no harm?"

It was an unexpected concession, and Remus frowned in thought. Did he dare to even believe that Severus could be telling the truth? His word to the Abbot bound him to his duty, and if nothing else, perhaps this would give him a way by which to survive the retreat and once again find the peace that Severus had rattled so badly.

"All right, if you are offering, I will accept," Remus said. "First, do not touch me or look at me with carnal thoughts. If you do not respect my vocation, at least respect that the Abbey is holy, and lust has no place here."

Severus released Remus' wrist and let his hand fall to his side, inclining his head in acceptance of the terms. "Very well. Despite what you may think, I do respect this place and your vocation. I simply think you are not truly suited for it. However, I will refrain from touching you and looking at you with blatant desire." He paused, and then his mouth curved in a wicked smirk. "I cannot promise not to have carnal thoughts about you at all, but I promise not to act on them, either with you or by myself."

The capitulation was a surprise, but Remus accepted it, using his sudden freedom to take a step back from Severus, ignoring the part of him that was disturbingly reluctant to do so. He ignored the comment about Severus' thoughts as much as he could; hopefully it would be enough that Severus would no longer invade his personal space, confusing him with fleshly temptation. It was the more base and physical nature of the wolf coming to the fore, and Remus needed time to purge himself of those desires, which had never been at issue until Severus stormed back into his life.

"All right," Remus said, nodding in acceptance of Severus' promise. Not that he expected Severus to keep it, but at least it was a start toward regaining the peace he needed so badly. "Second, I want you to go through this retreat sincerely, with an open mind and heart. I know you have no true calling to the monastic life, but the least you can do while you are here is participate and learn what grace there is in the practice of faith."

Severus gave him an incredulous look, amazed that they had known each other for so long, yet Remus understood so little about him. Shaking his head, he chuckled quietly. "Very well, little monk. I agree to your condition. But in return, I want you to ask yourself this: how do you think I could have survived two wars and everything I had to do during those years with my sanity intact if I was not a man of faith?"

His amusement faded, replaced by a sudden intensity as he gazed at Remus, although this time, it was not tinged with lust, but rather a fierce conviction. "Since you seem to have so little grasp of my nature, I will share a basic truth with you: I know who I am. I have wrestled with far greater darkness than you, and I have vanquished it. I am not a nice man nor necessarily a good man, but I am a righteous man."

There was absolute authority in Severus' voice, and for the first time, Remus believed something that Severus was saying. "I accept that, oddly enough," he replied, a slight smile curving his lips. "That is the whole theme of this retreat, did you know that? Romans 12 - 'For I say, through the grace given unto me, to every man that is among you, not to think more highly of himself than he ought to think; but to think soberly, according as God hath dealt to every man a measure of faith.'"

"That is the whole theme of my life for the past twenty years or so," Severus said dryly, folding his arms as he drew himself up tall and proud. "Believe me, I will have no difficulty participating in this retreat with sincerity. Now then - have you any other conditions you wish to place upon me?"

"No," Remus replied. "That will be enough, I think. If you are sincere in your claim that you don't wish me ill, then by the end of this retreat, you will see why I belong here and why the purpose and peace I have found here have made me happier than I ever thought I could be."

"Am I meant to behave myself and be convinced while you remain secluded in your little bubble, or will you listen to me and discuss the matter with an open mind?" Severus asked, cocking one eyebrow. If Remus insisted on forcing him to listen but refused to listen in return, then there was little he could accomplish. Their interaction had to go both ways, or else he may as well give up now. "You aren't afraid to listen to a different perspective, are you?" he goaded, hoping to prick Remus' pride.

"I'm not afraid," Remus said firmly, his eyes glittering as the wolf once again took exception to Severus' words and tone. He gritted his teeth in annoyance at himself for letting Severus lure him into a brief moment of trust and connection, before once again reminding Remus of the fact that Remus couldn't trust anything Severus said. "I'll listen and discuss things with you, so long as you hold to your promises."

Remus paused then, raising a brow in a challenge of his own. "Who knows... perhaps my arguments for staying will convince you to seek entrance to the Brotherhood yourself, rather than yours convincing me to leave it. Are you prepared to take that risk, Severus?"

"Yes." Severus regarded Remus with a stern, implacable expression that enhanced the firm certainty of his tone. "As far as I'm concerned, there is no risk. My faith is strong no matter where I am. I have no need to sequester myself away from the world in order to hold onto it. This place cannot offer me anything I cannot find elsewhere, and if you stay, I will leave, never to return. I came here for you, and I will leave again with or without you to resume my place in the world."

"Then it seems neither of us is in any danger, doesn't it?" Remus asked quietly. "We each know where we want to be, and neither of us will be swayed. Care to call it a draw, then, and each go our own way now, rather than later?" Even as he said it, Remus didn't expect Severus to agree. He wasn't certain if Severus did agree if he would feel more relief or disappointment - and that uncertainty disturbed him almost as much as Severus did.

"Nice try." Severus smiled wolfishly. "But no. I have committed to this retreat, and I will see it through. We shall see where we stand at the end of it." He paused, and then he inclined his head slightly. "We seem to have reached an accord. I would shake on it, but you don't want me to touch you," he added with a hint of amused mockery in his tone.

The mockery struck Remus' pride, and before he could think, he stuck out his hand. "Why should I be afraid of a simple handshake?" he asked. "If, that is, you intend to keep your promise."

Severus clasped Remus' hand, enfolding it in a warm, firm grip as he shook it to seal the bargain. "You have my word on it," he said, waiting to see how long it would be before Remus grew uncomfortable with the contact and pulled his hand free.

The simple pressure of Severus' palm against his, the enveloping clasp of his long fingers felt amazingly right, and Remus once again found himself reacting strongly to Severus' merest caress. One thing that Remus had missed since coming to the Abbey was the comfort of human touch, and that must have been the reason he felt it so keenly, aware of the contact on every inch of his skin.

He wasn't sure how long he might have stood there, looking at their clasped hands as though both surprised and reluctant to let go, but the Angelus bell rang, signaling noon, reminding Remus once again of his duty and his choices. Releasing Severus' hand, he glanced up, offering Severus a lopsided smile.

"Well, then, it seems we have an agreement," he said quietly. "As for now, you had best go unpack and get settled. Lunch is in the refectory at one o'clock, and then we will be meeting back here for lessons."

"I will be a most attentive and apt pupil," Severus replied without a hint of irony or mockery in his voice - for once - and with that, he turned and walked away without a single glance back at Remus, as if Remus was of little consequence.

If Remus wanted to him to keep his distance, so be it. He faced a challenge, one that would require wit and cunning to overcome the obstacles Remus had placed in his path, but he was resourceful and determined to prevail. If he didn't, well, he supposed he would face his own form of monkish existence.

Until Remus took his vows, he was fair game. Afterward, Severus would consider him off-limits. He was not a devout follower of any particular religion, but his father had insisted on him being raised C of E, and some things were ingrained deeply enough that he didn't want to risk the consequences of meddling with a man of God.

If Severus failed and Remus took his vows, then Severus would indeed leave and never return, just as he had promised. There would be no purpose in it, since Remus was the only man he wanted, and if Remus chose God over him, then he was simply out of luck.

It would be difficult to woo and win Remus with the constraints Remus had set down on him, but it wasn't impossible. He would find a way. He had to. The entire future of his heart and happiness depended on it.

Part One | Part Two | Part Three