Epiphany

It is truly amazing how laying all the facts of the situation in front of you make you feel like a fool for not having noticed things before. When I thought about everything I have observed over the past year, I feel stunned. How could I not have seen this before?

When Sirius left us, and I say that since no one seems to be able to say that he's truly dead, the Order was thrown into disarray. Harry lashed out at everyone, and Mr. Weasley took this as a sign that they were not working hard enough. Dumbledore said nothing, and I think that was the most frightening thing of all. The one I was most concerned for was Lupin. He had felt personally responsible for what had happened to Sirius, and fell into a deep depression. He would stay in his room, taking no meals. The only day Ron and I were brave enough to go see him, he didn't even notice us open the door. His eyes were fixed on the flickering flames of the fireplace, as if trying to pull some deep secret from them. There had been a fair amount of speculation on the status of their relationship, but we couldn't ask him now, for fear that he would fall further away from us.

The amazing thing in all of this was how the adults were treating us. I was pulled aside at least 3 times, by McGonagall, for example, who questioned me as to my emotional status, and then proceeded to tell me that I could talk to them any time I wanted to. In addition to that, McGonagall and Lupin told Harry, Ron, and I that we could address them by their first names. No longer were they "Professor", although admittedly Lupin hadn't been that for some time. Now they were Minerva and Remus. Snape was still Snape, but he was softer with his tones, and his bouts of anger towards Harry were less frequent, often sparked by Harry's own rages.

It was on a regular day, not very eventful, that I noticed things that I'd never thought to look for. The moment that sparked my interest was when I noticed Snape taking a tray up to Remus' room. If Molly couldn't get him to eat, I thought, surely this harsh man couldn't. I sat quietly on the steps, my eyes facing a book, but my ears listening to the rooms above. I heard the low rumble of Snape's voice, followed by the strained tones of Remus. His normally dulcet tones had faded to a ragged whisper. Snape snapped something at Remus, who raised his own voice for a second. There was a sigh from each of them, and then I heard sobbing. Creeping up the steps, silently planning to say I was headed for the bathroom if my presence was detected, I walked past Remus' room to a truly odd and awe-inspiring sight. Remus was collapsed in Snape's arms, sobbing his heart out. Snape's feelings of awkwardness showed in his posture, but his face bore a look of great seriousness and concern. I hurried away, not sure to think about what I had just seen.

The next moment of interest came about a week later, over dinner. Snape suggested a small service of remembrance for Sirius, much to the shock of Harry. The rest of the table smiled as much as their heavy hearts would allow, and nodded. Dumbledore commended Snape for such a thoughtful idea. Remus was smiling at Snape, his eyes brimming with tears. Snape then fell back into his routine of precise reports. Once again, the curtain had been raised ever so slightly on whom Snape was inside. And yet again, I had no idea what to think. He seemed to actually care about others, rather than simply being frigid towards others. Maybe I was biased due to Harry's incessant hatred of Snape, I don't know. All I know is that I was seeing things that I'd never seen before. And this was only the beginning.