Disclaimer: I think by now you all know this spiel, they do not belong to me. I wish they did but they don't.

Author's Note: Dedicated to QueenBamfie, a great friend who needed some cheering up. 

A Way with Words

There's a snag in our friendship. Well, truthfully, it's only a snag if the cause of said snag is not reciprocated. If you feel the same way then it is not a snag at all and I don't need

Without as much as a second glace, Remus ripped the letter into pieces so small that no amount of tape would be able resurrect it. He then tossed the shreds into the trash, the scraps becoming lost in the mound of already trashed letter attempts. Satisfied that no one would ever set eyes on the dreadful letter Remus turned his attention to the fresh piece of parchment that now sat before him.

I think I like, no, I think I'm in love with you. I'm pretty sure it's love. At first I thought maybe it was a stomach ache, one too many chocolates before bed, but then I realized I hadn't eaten one piece of chocolate since after lunch

The second letter, crumpled into an angry wad of paper, joined the first one in the trash.

"Let him read that one and he'll think you're an absolute moron," Remus thought to himself wryly. He picked the quill back up and leaned over the paper, his free hand keeping unruly locks from falling into his eyes.

Last night I tried to read a book to help me fall asleep—But I couldn't. Couldn't read, I mean. Every word on every page spelled your name. What I'm trying to say is that last night I think I found out I may like like you. No, that's not what I mean at all…well it is, but that's not how I wanted to say it. What I was trying to say and still am is that, last night, I discovered that I do, in fact, love you.

Remus gaped at the letter as if he had just discovered it carried a deadly disease. This was proving to be more difficult than he thought it would. It should have been easy, after all, it was only words on paper, but each word seemed to falter and die as if it were a flobberworm in the care of James Potter. Scowling, Remus ripped the offending letter into quarters and dropped it into the trash. If things kept going at this rate the barrel would eventually be overflowing with failures.

There is a poem that reminds me of you how I feel about you. It is Sonnet 35 by Edmund Spenser and if you don't mind I'd like to quote it

Maybe a letter wasn't the best of ideas. There were other ways to tell someone how you felt. Chocolate? Good, but, he doubted sweets would be the best way to express himself. Flowers? Far too trite. A teddy bear? No way. He wanted to avoid being sneered and laughed at.

Remus bit on his bottom lip thoughtfully. Writing was like summoning a spell, words weren't enough on their own. Feelings had to shape every word, intent had to make them unfurl into being. The words had to be able to be tasted—like a fine wine, settle about the mind like silk to skin. The perfect words would be like water to a thirsty man, cool and refreshing even long after they had been digested. The quill moved across the parchment.

I love you.

Sadly, it was the best thing he had written so far. Remus reread it. Twice. He folded the letter, stuck it in-between two pages of his potions book, and then stood up. Pacing the length of the table, Remus tried not to look at his potions book and failed miserably. It was as if every time he took a step his eyes had no other choice but to briefly look at the book. Obviously pacing was doing him no good. Remus stopped and reached out for the book, hesitating for a moment before picking it up and leaving the common room with it held closely to his chest.


"Where the hell have you been, Lupin?" asked Severus as Remus sat down beside him at a table in the far corner of the library. "You're ten minutes late."

Remus set his potions book down on the table, "I ran into a bit of, um, trouble. Sorry."

"What kind of trouble?" Severus asked though the tone of his voice suggested he knew exactly what form the trouble had come in—James Potter and Sirius Black.

Remus glanced at his potions book and then at Severus and then at his potions book again. Fingers nervously played with a loose stand of his shirt as the quick glances from book to Severus continued. Silence stretched, every minute held in it the makings of eternity, closing out the world until all that existed was the book containing the letter and Severus Snape.   

"Lupin?" Severus sounded confused. "...Remus?"

"Yes?" Remus'eyes slowly moved from the book to Severus' face. There they rested, honey-brown on obsidian.

"Are you all right?" Said slowly, speak carefully around the madman.    

"I…well…I'm not sure, I-I might be, but then again I might not be," stammered Remus, a finger toying with the top right corner of his potions book. "Well, you see… it all depends on…Oh bloody hell!" He took the letter out and handed it to Severus. "This is for you; it's why I was late." With that Remus left the library.


Back in the common room, Remus still couldn't concentrate. Reading proved once again to be futile since every word still insisted on being Severus' name and chess was impossible because he would say 'knight to E4' but he would think 'Severus Severus Severus'. Such thoughts made it difficult to concentrate on what he was doing so his chess pieces were often sent to their immediate demise.

"I'm going to bed," Remus said after losing his third consecutive game.

James looked at the time, eyebrows knitting, and then back to Remus, "Are you okay, mate?"

"Yeah, you seem a bit out of it," Sirius added, eyeing Remus with concern.

Peter nodded in agreement.

"I'm fine, just tired. Night everyone." Remus gathered up his books and headed up the dormitory stairs.

It being rather early in the evening, the dormitory was still empty. Remus placed his books on the end of his bed and was about to turn to his trunk when something in the corner of his eye caught his attention. Sitting on his pillow was a letter and it was addressed to him. Remus picked up the letter, studying the precise scrawl that was his name, and then he opened it.


            Your way with words astounds me. I love you too.