Happy (Actual) Birthday, snegurochka_lee!

Here's the drabble I promised.

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Snape trudged through the snow in the hour before dawn, oblivious to the storybook beauty of the castle grounds, carrying a basket over his arm. Even wrapped in a warm wool cloak, boots, gloves, and a fur-lined hat; the cold managed to seep through. I’m getting too damned old for this. He considered returning to the toasty confines of his bed.

That impulse fled when he saw a pale figure emerge from the Forbidden Forest. Snape met Lupin, pulled a cloak from the basket. He wrapped it and his arms around the shivering man.

“I’m sorry the Wolfsbane wasn’t ready.”