Remus was shocked by the words, by the voice. "No."

"A cure, perhaps? Beseeching the Gods to provide where magic has failed you?"

"Where potions has failed me," Remus agreed.

"Ah, potions did not fail you, Lupin. It simply gave you what you sought and damn the consequences. Ingredients have no care for side effects."

"My life has been lived balanced on consequences, Severus," Remus informed him coolly. "Whether they have been damned or otherwise."

"So you come here to beseech the pagan Gods and Goddesses? For what, Lupin?" Snape sneered. "Forgiveness? Redemption?"

"Death." Remus's eyes were flat as they met Snape's. "The one side effect of the wolfsbane that must brighten even your dark heart. It may kill me insidiously, winding through my blood like some parasite, attacking my heart and my lungs and my liver until they're black as soot, but it also refuses to let me die. It preserves me until I'm nothing more than a potion encased in flesh, a testament to the power of your blessed ingredients."

"There are ways…"

"I may not have brandished my sword like Sirius and James, Severus, but I will not go down without a fight. To lay down the sword is a death to which even I refuse to succumb."

Snape watched Remus as he climbed the steps, his cane gripped tightly in his hand. He looked down the mountain at the rough-hewn steps then back at the shaky grip that guided his nemesis up the stairs. "Perhaps the Gods have already answered your prayers, Lupin."

"Oh?" Remus's voice held nothing, gave nothing away.

"Wolfsbane will kill you and keep you alive, the walking dead." Severus fell in step with Lupin, his hand surreptitiously behind the other man's elbow. "When it is made properly."

Remus stopped and turned slowly. "And if it is not?"

"It could be tragic." Snape assured him. "Fatal." He bent his head closer, his dark hair falling toward Remus's cheek as his eyes flickered up toward the beaming Northern Star. "A most silent night."