Disclaimer: I don't own Potterverse. And neither do you (unless you're J.K. Rowling, which I doubt), so live with it.

Dedication: To ancientgirl, who wanted "To Mr. Remus Lupin" to be a Severus/Remus pairing. Here's your wish, letter dilemma and all.

Summary: Remus is having a tough time doing something. When he finally does it, will it come out the way he planned?


Where to Begin?

Where to begin? The parchment was blank before him, the ink unused, the quill still laying next to the ink pot. Remus Lupin, werewolf, leaned back into the chair and ran his hands through his graying sandy-blonde hair, annoyed at himself. The war was over -- it had been for a long time -- and he still had one loose end.

This was the loose end that had been nagging at him for the past two weeks. It had finally become unbearable.

Severus Snape.

He had been, for several years, Remus' procurer of the Wolfsbane Potion and would continue to be so (Remus hoped). He had been the one to save him from a Death Eater that had snuck up on him during the final battle and he had been the one to tell him that nothing in this battle had been in vain. Nothing. Who would have expected such words from Severus Snape? Not Remus.

But how to convey so much more meaning in a simple letter? So much more feeling? Not just gratification, but sincere affection, awe, and... and love. Yes, Remus Lupin was in love with Severus Snape. Don't ask him how; he doesn't know. He knows when he knew that he was gay: it was when he and Sirius were stuck under some charmed mistletoe. He knows when he knew that nothing would ever be the same: it was when Sirius fell behind the veil. He knows when he knew that he loved Severus: it was when he saw him killing Lucius Malfoy, the green glow of the Killing Curse illuminating his sharp features.

Remus thumped the table soundly and then stood up, running his hands through his hair. Gods, how to start? Dear Severus? Too ostentatious. Mr. Snape? Too formal. Severus? Severus. He shrugged, sat down, and picked up the eagle feather quill, running the fluffy feather lightly over his chin before dipping it primly into the ink well. In simple cursive, he wrote out the man's name and then let the quill fall from his fingers, annoyance lining his features.

There was an incessant throbbing in his head, indicating a headache was coming, and he stood up to open a cabinet in the small, two-room cabin and take out a Headache Prevention Potion. He downed the blue liquid in one gulp, shivering as he did so. Then, he threw the empty vial into the garbage can and plopped down into his chair once more, burying his face in his hands. Most would think him a strange man, agonizing over a letter that could be phrased so simply, so covertly. But Remus did not want to be covert. He wanted Severus to know. And he didn't. He was afraid of rejection. How to begin? Where to begin?

Remus let out a frustrated sigh and stared blankly down at the parchment, at the simple name and comma that he had written. The wet, black ink shone in the candlelight and he looked up and out the window, the half-moon looming eerily behind the clouds. He was Remus Lupin, a werewolf, an ex-professor of Defense Against the Dark Arts, and a homosexual. Not many people liked his unique abilities. He tampered the image of what he'd like to do to Severus with said unique abilities.

He opened up a drawer of the desk and took out a bottle of Irish whiskey, rather good Irish whiskey. He took a swig of it, feeling the liquid burn his throat as it went down, and he continued to quaff it, enjoying himself privately. When he finished the bottle, the only way the world could have come into focus was, of course, through the bottom of another bottle, preferably full and the contents going down his throat.

It is always in the worst of moods or temperaments or health that someone comes up with the great idea. And it is now that our werewolf picks up his pen and writes his letter within the span of two minutes. He signals for his owl and she hoots eagerly when he tells her where to go. He then falls onto his bed and snores the night away, content.

****

At Hogwarts, an owl has just interrupted Severus Snape's quiet meal of bread, cheese, fruit, and wine. Annoyed, he takes the letter and opens it, to be met with a few simply penned lines.

Severus,
Thank you for everything.
Love, Remus Lupin

He arched an eyebrow and then abandoned his dinner to sit before his desk and get out his writing instruments. He didn't move them from the table. The parchment ruffled in the slight breeze of the dungeons, the quill lay untouched next to the parchment, and the ink well was closed and full. Severus blinked.

Where to begin?

****
I hope you enjoyed it! I enjoyed writing it! Read and review, people!
-Mel