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It was almost dark again. A day had once more passed Severus without notice, his only focus the flames playing around the wood in the fireplace. He had stopped thinking a while ago, as his thoughts had started going in circles, ever tighter, ever more painful, until it was a physical ache deep inside him.

It could also be hunger, he mused idly.

But how could such a mundane thing hurt more, than what he had done?

How could anything compare to the act he had committed only a few days ago?

Albus would be buried now, surrounded for the last time by those who had loved him as they said their good byes. A good bye of sorts had been said that night, but it had drowned in Albus' plea, in the information he had needed, in the act...

...in seeing Remus deeply engulfed in a fight that could have cost his life, while all Severus had been able to do, was flee, protect Draco, prevent Potter from destroying everything.

For all he knew, Remus could be wounded.

He could be dead... Severus sighed and rested his head on his hand, trying to massage the building headache away. Only, it was no headache. It was the painful thought of Remus dead, searing its way through his mind along the same scorched paths left behind by Albus' death.

Remus had to be alive. Even if it meant he would be tormented by the death of Albus, by Severus' ... betrayal. Severus could not accept the possibility of Remus' death.

At least he would not be alone. Kirill would be there, Severus was quite sure. The Russian had seemed extremely attached to Remus, and would surely not abandon him now. He would possibly even leap to the chance of finally having Remus for himself.

Perhaps Severus should see that as a blessing and not contact Remus? Would the man not be happier then, if he didn't have to face a murderer? He could not see Remus forgiving him for this, even if he could explain the reasons. And how could Remus love the same man who had killed Albus Dumbledore?

Didn't he love me, even if he knew I am a Death Eater? Even if he might have suspected I was implicated in the death of his friends? Even if he knew I had killed ... had done the bidding of the Dark Lord? Didn't he love me in spite of the fact, that I had shown him nothing but cold dismissal and hatred for most of our lives?

But he knew, all that faded in comparison to using the killing curse on Albus, and meaning it. He would never have been able to kill the old powerful wizard, not even in his weakened state, had he not meant those two words, meant to murder Albus.

Severus looked at the wand on the table in front of him. He had not used it since he apparated home that night. He couldn't even get himself to touch it, the dark polished wood mocking him with what he had done with it.

With a low growl, Severus got up and turned away. The wand on the table suddenly snapped without notice, as if two strong hands had taken hold of it and simply broken it in two. Severus didn't react as he stalked out of the room, into the bedroom.

He changed into the muggle clothes he had acquired a long time ago. Simple black trousers, a white shirt and a black jacket. He avoided looking at his reflection in the mirror, knowing only too well what he would see.

Without any wand, he was forced to walk. He didn't care much for walking, but at his pace he would reach Florence within half an hour. He had memorised the path to La Strega D'Urlo, the Inn that marked the entrance to the wizarding part of the old city.

Walking thus, among muggles, was a strange experience. Nobody seemed to take any notice of him, most of them clearly engulfed in their own matters.

As he entered the Inn, only few heads turned towards the strange figure in muggle clothing. And most of those heads turned away again quickly. Only the barman behind the counter took note of the face, the haunted eyes and the pale complexion.

"Buona sera, Signore." He greeted politely, as Severus approached him.

"Buona sera." Severus was not as fluent in Italian as he could have wished, but he managed to get the directions he needed, as he spoke with the barman. He would have to learn Italian to be able to live here. If he was going to live here...

Is this living?

He moved through the inn and out the backdoor, surprised to see a simple wooden door. It was marked Riservato, and as he turned the door handle, opening the door, he suspected it wouldn't react to muggles.

Most of his errands took no time, only as he entered Masciullo Wands, did he hesitate. The old man behind the counter looked straight into his eyes and offered an almost toothless smile in greeting. English was out of the question, but there was no need to explain why he was there. The scrutiny brought back memories of the first time he had been given a wand. At Olivander's. And the efficiency with which the right wand was found, even more so.

Severus looked at it. It was so very different than his old wand, but it felt right in his hand. At home. And different was good. He needed no more reminders than the two pieces of wood still on his table, back at the house.

He paid and left, knowing his name would not figure anywhere in the shop owner's journals. No matter how good wand makers were, none of them were immune to Obliviate.

Outside, he saw the public owlery just across from the wand shop. It was still open.

He had avoided thinking until now, but Remus instantly came to the surface of his mind. Merlin, it would have been so much easier had he not indulged himself, allowed himself to fall in love. Allowed himself to ignore what had been bound to come.

With brisk strides he entered the owlery and paid for an inter-continental owl delivery, then made arrangements for owl deliveries being made there. He gave a false name and reminded himself to obliviate the man before leaving again.

[Owl]

Remus,

I know I am the last person you would want to speak with now, but I need to talk to you. When and where I will leave up to you, should you accept. I do not ask you to trust me or even believe me, but at least listen to what I have to say.

I love you.

~S

[/owl]

Only when the owl had been sent on its way, did he wonder why he had added the last words. They were true, but wouldn't Remus see it as ... mockery? As more lies? It was too late now to change anything and if he was honest with himself, he didn't think it would make any difference. He didn't expect an answer.

He might answer just to set you up? Another possibility, even if a small voice deep inside him, told him Remus would not do something like that. Because why not?

After Obliviating the Owlery official, Severus left and then apparated home, facing another sleepless night with resignation.