Written for the Lupin/Snape Lurve Community Darkfic Fest 2007. Quote was
Fear not for the future, weep not for the past. - Percy Bysshe Shelley
The follow-up to Restraint. This didn't go quite as well as I'd planned: I lost impetus (and interest, I'll confess) so I ended it sooner than I'd originally intended...
Snape was avoiding him. Well, that was hardly surprising now, was it? The Potions Master had ignored him at the evening meal the day of their... encounter... and afterwards only appeared in the Great Hall for one out of every three meals, sitting as far away from Remus as possible and refusing to so much as glance in his direction. The wolfsbane potion was delivered by a house-elf: there was no note.
The only minimally good thing about the whole affair was that Moony was quiet, smug and satisfied with his little victory. For now, at any rate. Remus knew it wouldn't last. The wolf wanted mastery, wanted Snape on his knees, back bowed, submissive before his alpha.
The image was suddenly clear in his mind: Snape, trembling, peeled of his layers of enveloping material, pale skin exposed, shadows of spine and ribs etched by moonlight, head forward, hair veiling his face. Remus forced back a groan, one hand going to his groin as the image had him erect and hard and aching.
And the wolf laughed triumphantly.
Let me out. This moon. Let me out. I'll take him for you for us. He'll be ours forever.
It was so tempting. Despite the danger, despite knowing the hatred it would incite, the image of Severus writhing under him, alternately snarling and whimpering as he was forced... Remus's heart was hammering in his chest, sweat trickling down his back as he clutched his rigid cock tightly.
Moony wanted Snape.
Remus wanted Severus.
... this was insane. He was an intelligent man, and had fought hard to maintain his self-control nearly all his life. He was not about to lose everything for a moment's... lust.
Moony begged to differ. No, not begged. Moony demanded. Moony had no real concept of past or future. For Moony, the present was everything, the now of existence. A series of eternal nows, falling into place one after the other like upright dominoes tipped and tumbling, crashing silently into each other. Remus shivered, the image too alien to fully understand.
It seemed Moony shared his mind to a far greater extent than the man could share the wolf's.
Full moon was a nightmare. More of a nightmare than usual, anyway. Remus wondered if he was becoming immune to the potion: teetering on the edge of becoming wholly animal, he was, just, able to hold onto his sanity by focussing on the image of Dumbledore, who had trusted him enough to take him on at the school. He did not want to betray that trust.
And it had worked, though only just. Moony had howled and raged and turned on himself in fury. Remus came out of it ragged in body and mind, exhausted and weak and trembling, hardly noticing Poppy's ministrations as he lay in his own bed rather than the infirmary.
Then Severus came to see him.
He'd recognised the scent of the Potions Master even before the sharp rap at the door, his sense of smell still heightened from his ordeal. And vulnerable and sick as he was, that scent arrowed straight to his groin, forcing him erect so that he had to turn onto his side to hide his embarrassment.
"Come in."
Snape stalked into the room, robes swirling about him as usual. Remus wondered absently how he managed it in the absence of any kind of draught of air. Moony snarled and demanded Remus tear them off which was amusing in a weird sort of way, as Remus' current incapacitation was entirely due to the wolf's actions... Not that that meant anything to Moony...
Remus realised his mind was babbling and tried to focus on Severus. The piercing dark eyes were glaring at him, daring him to speak. He offered a tired, apologetic smile. Severus' lips twisted.
"I trust I didn't waste my time making a potion you neglected to take?"
Remus sighed, then frowned. Why should Severus care?
"No, Severus. I wouldn't put you to all that trouble and then refuse your help."
Snape removed a small phial from somewhere under his robes and placed it on the bedside table, being careful not to approach the werewolf too closely. He gestured to it with a long, thin hand.
"Take that with water this evening."
Remus eyed it curiously.
"What is it?"
"It'll make you capable of functioning well, as much as you ever are capable, anyway."
"Ah. My class proving too much for you?"
Remus flinched; that had been Moony. Snape glared at him.
"I am more than capable of teaching your class, as you know perfectly well."
"But teaching two subjects is enervating."
Remus gritted his teeth, cursing the wolf, as Snape's eyes narrowed. The Potions Master seemed coiled, ready to strike like the snake that was his House's symbol.
"You..."
Remus raised a weak hand and lowered his gaze.
"I'm sorry."
For a moment he thought Severus would reach for his wand, but the moment passed. When Remus thought it safe to raise his head again, Severus was watching him, an odd expression on his face. For several seconds the two men stared at each other, then Snape abruptly turned and strode towards the door, glancing back over his shoulder.
"Take the potion."
Then he was gone, leaving Remus gazing bemusedly after him.
What had all that been about?
Remus spent the day in his rooms, bathing, sleeping, eating sparingly of the meals the house-elves delivered. Poppy visited him towards evening, to check his dressings and make sure he wasn't suffering. She eyed the phial with interest, unstoppering it and taking a cautious sniff then nodding and replacing it on the table.
"That should do the trick. You're healing well, Professor. As long as you have a comfortable night, I see no reason why you shouldn't return to your duties tomorrow."
"Thank you, Poppy. I do appreciate your care." He smiled gently, and she softened a little, nodding.
"Just make sure you don't overdo it."
"I promise..."
He knew as soon as he he'd drained the glass that something was wrong. The potion smouldered in his stomach, a deep glowing heat that seemed to work its way outwards, cascading through his body in waves that burned from within. Clutching at his chest he fell back onto the bed, gasping for air, barely conscious of the 'click' of the door lock being turned. He peered up through watering eyes at the dark shape that loomed over him at the bedside.
"S... Severus...?"
A gleam of moonlight on pale skin, in a dark eye. The Potions Master stared down at him, expression unreadable.
"S... Severus... why...?"
Snape seated himself on the edge of the bed, watching as Remus writhed under the covers. The werewolf thought he glimpsed a hint of a grim smile, quickly gone as Snape leaned closer.
"How does it feel, to be powerless? Do you like it?"
Remus tried to speak, but his throat was full of fire, choking him. Snape laid a hand on his shoulder, and he flinched: it was icy, burningly cold against his burning skin.
The Potions Master slowly rolled back the covers as Remus watched in horror, helpless, unable to do more than shudder minutely. Snape's gaze settled on his groin, eyeing the rigid, twitching penis clinically for a moment. Then he smiled. Remus closed his eyes. The smile promised pain...
Seconds later his body arched off the bed, a scream dying in his throat.
What the hell...?
It felt as though something had sliced his cock in half lengthways. Gasping, he forced his head up and peered down his body, to see Severus trailing a fine chain across the blistering skin of his penis and down towards his balls. He squinted through the sweat dripping into his eyes, teeth clenched against the pain.
Silver. A fine, delicate silver chain, glinting innocently in Snape's long fingers... Silver licking over his scrotum, a blinding torture from outside as the fire of the potion burned him from within.
Moony howled in agony.
Snape's voice was a silky murmur.
"Are you enjoying it?"
"Sev... 'rus... please..."
"Ah, you want more?" The pale hand moved lower: Remus whimpered and tried to pull away from the pain between his legs, whiteness exploding behind his eyelids.
"N... no... stop..."
"Why should I?" The expression on the pale face was suddenly hard, as though carved from frosted steel. "Why should I give you anything you ask for?" He leaned closer, almost hissing in Remus' ear. "You humiliated me."
"Said... sorry... wolf..."
"Oh no. You do not blame that beast. You were the one who..." His voice faltered, then strengthened again. "Why?"
If he hadn't been in so much pain Remus would have laughed, albeit with a touch of hysteria. So many layers of meaning in that little word...
"Why?"
"... want you..."
Snape jerked backwards and nearly fell off the bed.
"... what...?"
Remus took a breath as the intensity of the pain between his legs eased a fraction, then jerked his head, trying to flick sweat-soaked hair from his eyes.
"Severus..."
But Snape's hands were moving, wrapping the silver chain around the base of his cock and balls, snapping it closed as Remus screamed, his whole body taut, nerves on fire. Burning and freezing at the same time, the chain kept him erect even as his world shrank to a single blinding point of agony at his groin.
The man dissolved. The wolf took over.
Moony wrenched himself upright, grabbing the startled Snape with implacable hands, twisting and forcing the Potions Master down onto the bed. Ignoring Snape's frantic clawing and struggling, nails like claws shredded the layers of fabric from the thin body, working inwards to the pale skin and leaving deep bleeding runnels over the prominent ribs. Moony leered down into dark and suddenly terrified eyes.
Mine.
Snape tried to fight, to free himself, but the wolf had surpassed pain, using it to fuel his overwhelming hunger. Enough of Remus remained that the wolf took Snape face to face, shoving into him without warning or preparation, licking at the tears of pain on the pale face, grinning at the bitten-back whimpers, clawing at the quivering pale body, biting neck and shoulder and arm and chest, drawing blood with a fierce and primal joy.
Mine!
Licking the blood from cold pale skin, pounding into the cold pale body, Moony took his time, rejoicing in the now, oblivious to anything but the vicious ecstasy of domination, the scent of fearful submission in the prey...
He howled as he came, pulsing into Snape, then pulling out roughly and swivelling to sniff at the blood and semen oozing from the torn flesh. Grinning, he turned back to his prey, squatting over the man's groin and ignoring the fitful shuddering, the blood trickling down the shivering body.
"Mine."
Snape was staring at him from behind the strands of lank black hair that had fallen over his face while he was trying to escape. His voice shook even more than his body.
"Im... possible... potion..."
Moony leaned down, exulting in Snape's fear as the pale man cringed. The wolf growled.
"Never underestimate the power of pain. Or need."
"Lupin..."
"No. Not him."
"M... Moony...?"
The wolf backhanded him across the face, bruising too-pale skin.
"You aren't fit to use the name."
"Get off me." But it lacked power, the words a quavering shadow of Snape's usual forcefulness. Moony leered.
"Why?"
Snape closed his eyes, letting himself go as limp as the shaking would let him, and swallowed hard.
"You win." It was, Remus knew, probably the hardest thing he'd ever had to say. But it seems to satisfy Moony. The wolf slowly pulled himself back, grinning, stretching luxuriously, emphasising Snape's inferior position, sitting back on in haunches for a long moment before relinquishing control.
Remus swayed and collapsed forwards onto his knees, staring in absolute horror at the man bleeding on his bed.
"Severus?"
Snape dragged an arm up to cover his eyes, the other hand groping blindly for the rags of his robes, trying to drag them over himself and failing. Remus was afraid to move, afraid to touch, his own pain ignored. If Snape had felt humiliated before, this would... Remus swallowed and wrapped his arms around himself. Snape would want to kill him for this.
"Get me... something to... wear..." The voice was shaking. Remus pulled himself from the wetly blood-stained bed, oblivious to the silver chain sliding from his burned and blistered genitals, and burrowed into his meagre store of clothing, finally coming up with a threadbare full-length robe in dark brown. He turned back to the bed to see Severus push himself up on one trembling arm and slide his legs slowly and painfully over the side.
"Severus..."
The face that swung up to his was tight with pain and loathing and a hatred beyond anything Remus has ever seen. Taking a shallow breath, he handed over the robe in silence, watching as Snape slowly and painfully pulled the ruined material carefully from his body and eased himself into the borrowed clothing. It was obvious that every movement was torture, but Remus didn't dare to try to help. Without realising it he dropped to his knees, gazing up at the Potions Master.
"I'm sorry."
Snape froze, his shoulders hunched forwards defensively, his back to the werewolf. Silently he stumbled towards the door, his head bowed. He paused, his hand on the wood, and glanced back at Remus, expression grim.
"You will be."
As the door closed silently behind Snape, Remus covered his face with shaking, desolate hands.
Part 2
Remus remained kneeling for long minutes after Severus had left, shaking violently, staring unblinkingly at his hands.
Unforgivable. The word wasn't just for curses. Although Severus would probably want to employ it that way, once he'd... Remus moaned. Severus was hurt. Badly hurt: Moony had been vicious with his claws and teeth. Not to mention his cock. There was no way Severus would go to Madame Pomfrey: if nothing else, he'd be too embarrassed. Even the likelihood of Remus' arrest for the attack wouldn't be enough to overcome the shame. Severus would have to treat the wounds himself.
Or Remus could do it for him.
Oh yes, and of course Severus would allow the man who'd just r... raped him - Remus flinched. Yes, of course it was rape. Horrific, violent, bestial rape - anywhere near him. Then again, given how much blood he'd lost and how much pain he was in, it was likely he'd not be able to put up much of a fight.
Swallowing hard, Remus pulled himself to his feet, shrugged into his clothes and headed for Severus' rooms before he could change his mind.
There were small splashes of blood, some of them mixed with semen, along the corridor: Remus could see and smell them, though he doubted anyone else would notice. The door to Severus' rooms wasn't locked, which was worrying. Remus paused with his hand on the doorknob and took a deep breath, then opened the door cautiously and stepped inside.
It was dark in the room, cool but dry, and smelt of herbs, copper, blood and Severus. Who was, Remus saw with a surge of fear, slumped in a heap next to the door to his bedroom. Dropping to his knees beside the still figure, Remus carefully brushed hair back from the too-pale face.
"Severus?"
"... get... away from... me..."
Not dead then. Or unconscious. Not quite fully conscious either, though: Severus' eyelids kept fluttering closed as he fought to stay awake and aware. Remus gritted his teeth and gently but forcefully took the wand from the Potion Master's trembling fingers, placing it carefully in his own pocket then hauling Severus up into his arms, distantly surprised at how light the man felt and trying not to cause any further injury as Severus frantically struggled against him.
"... no... no... leave me..."
"Shut up. I'm trying to help."
Severus stilled for a moment then began to laugh, a high-pitched, only marginally sane sound that grated on Remus' ears.
"... help?... help?..."
Ignoring the weak hands clawing at him, Remus managed to half-drop Severus onto the bed, immediately seating himself on the edge and leaning over the injured man to stop him from pulling himself off the other side.
"Please Severus, I really am trying to help. You're hurt. Let me see to the wounds then I'll go."
Severus stopped struggling, but, as Remus saw from his suddenly slack body, it was because he'd passed out. Though that was probably a blessing. He'd not enjoy what had to happen next, neither physically nor emotionally...
It took Remus just seconds to summon everything he needed: Severus kept a well-stocked medicine chest. Pushing the threadbare robe open, the werewolf winced at the sight, then shook himself and got to work with warm water, salves and bandages, bathing the deep gouges and bites. Some of the wounds he was able to affect magically, but the rest... Severus was going to be badly scarred after this.
Cursing Moony, Remus focussed on the task at hand.
It took him half an hour, and thankfully Severus remained unconscious throughout. Finally Remus shifted down the bed and very gently eased the thin thighs apart, carefully bathing between the long legs and smearing a cooling pain-relieving lotion around the bleeding flesh. He didn't dare try to get any inside Severus. One violation was more than enough.
He sat back up and gazed down at the unconscious man, suddenly struck by how vulnerable Severus was. He wore disdain and derision like a shield, smothered himself in layers of clothing and sarcasm to keep everyone at a distance, but here, lying naked and wounded on the bed, he was... a man, as easily hurt as other men. Reaching up to stroke lank hair from the thin face, Remus wondered for a moment if there was any way to reach him...
He shook his head sadly. If there had been, he'd just completely obliterated it. And he ought to go, before Severus regained consciousness and cursed him into next week. Or possibly into death. Sighing silently he eased the quilt from under the cool body, then paused for a second or two to memorise the sight: it was unlikely he'd ever see it again. And while Severus wasn't in the least what most people would call attractive, there was something... elegant about him, long and lean and sinewy, the prominent ribs and hipbones bizarrely appealing...
Remus shivered. No use whatsoever lusting after him now. But... not quite believing he was doing it, he gave in to a sudden urge, leaning down and very lightly kissing the pale heavy penis where it lay quiescent over pale balls, then swiftly covered Severus with the quilt, placed the man's wand on the bedside table, and quickly and quietly headed back to his own rooms.
For several days Remus kept to his own rooms except for his classes, avoiding the Great Hall completely. He wasn't able to avoid the student chatter quite so easily however. Severus' name kept coming up in murmured conversation: apparently the Potions Master was not acting 'normally'...
Remus couldn't decide what to do. He caught sight of Severus briefly while heading back to his own rooms from class: the man looked ill, paler than ever, and the dark shadows around his eyes made his face look bruised. His normal upright, forceful stride was missing, too, his shoulders hunched, his gaze lowered. He'd obviously not slept since the ordeal not that Remus had managed much rest either and from what Remus was able to gather he seemed to be suffering what in anyone else would be mood swings, one moment his sneering self, the next twitchy and unpredictable, then lapsing into a strained silence from which he would suddenly erupt with unusual ferocity. The students had always been wary and a little afraid of him now they were terrified.
Remus had to do something, and the best course of action seemed to be to talk to Dumbledore. Even if it cost him his job.
"Ah yes, Remus, please, do come in... Pear drop?" He smiled as Remus seated himself and shook his head. "Very well. Now, I suspect you're here on behalf of our esteemed Potions Master."
Remus blinked, then smiled ruefully. Of course Albus knew everything that went on at Hogwarts. He hadn't gained the reputation of being the best Headmaster the school had ever had just for handing out sweets.
"Yes. Though what I have to say is a little... shocking."
Albus peered over his spectacles.
"My dear boy, I'm really mostly unshockable these days."
"I know..." Remus took a deep breath, lowered his gaze he did not want to see condemnation in those eyes clasped his hands together in his lap and plunged on. "Headmaster, I'm the reason for Severus' current state..."
There was a strained silence when he'd finished, then a faint rustling as Dumbledore rested his hands on his desk.
"Dear me. Well, I can see how that might have disturbed Professor Snape's equanimity."
Remus dropped his face into his hands.
"It was the most appalling lack of control on my part. I betrayed your trust, your confidence, the school... myself... and Severus..."
"He will most likely find it hard to forgive you."
"Forgive...? Headmaster, he'll never forgive me. Try to kill me, yes, and I wouldn't blame him, but forgiveness?"
"Then again, his actions were hardly blameless."
"But I started it! Well, Moony started it, really but I should have had more control!"
"My boy, sometimes it's hard to maintain control when one... feels so deeply. However, I will need to have a word with Severus..."
Remus twisted his hands together.
"Must you tell him what I've told you?"
Dumbledore hesitated for a moment, then sighed quietly.
"That would compound the offence, wouldn't it? No, I will not mention your name nor any of the details."
"Thank you, Headmaster." Remus closed his eyes. "I suppose I'd better tender my resignation."
"Why would you do that?"
"I... I'm not safe." He was unaware of just how tortured was his expression. Dumbledore reached forward and patted his hand.
"Would you harm any of the children?"
Remus recoiled in horror. "Of course not! I'd rather swallow silver!"
"Then I see no reason for you to leave. Although perhaps you should avoid Severus until we have found a solution to the problem."
Remus managed a pained smile. "Since he won't want me anywhere near him, I don't think that will be a problem."
"Good, good... Well, I think that's all for now. If I might trouble you to come and see me again when I've had a word?"
"Of course, Headmaster. Any time."
Several days later Dumbledore requested Remus return to the office. Concerned by the Headmaster's grave expression, the werewolf sat tensely on the edge of his seat, watching the aged wizard worriedly. Albus regarded the younger man for a moment, then sighed and lowered his gaze.
"Severus refuses to acknowledge there is anything wrong. Which is not surprising, under the circumstances. He is a proud man, and under considerable stress in the normal course of events." Blue eyes glance briefly at Remus, then resumed their study of the desk. "And he is too strong an occlumens for me to even consider... breeching his privacy."
Remus ran a hand through his hair in anguished frustration.
"But we must do something! He can't go on like this..."
"I agree."
Remus closed his eyes, trying to think. In the Muggle world, he knew, there were health specialists who dealt with this sort of thing all the time, but in the Wizarding world... He doubted St Mungo's Hospital would know how to deal with such a malady. Snape wouldn't talk to anyone indeed, if Dumbledore was right, he was refusing to accept that there was anything wrong, despite the obvious facts. That only really left one option. Remus opened his eyes to find the Headmaster watching him. Dumbledore shook his head very slightly.
"Even if it were possible, given Severus' considerable mental abilities, it would be a grave intrusion. And a great betrayal."
"It would spare him pain. I don't like the idea any more than you, Headmaster, but it may be the only option." He swallowed. "Surely a Ministry Obliviator would be able to get through even Severus' occlumency?"
"One would certainly expect so." Dumbledore peered over his glasses. "However, there is a further consideration."
He paused, and Remus frowned.
"What is it, Headmaster?"
"Is Moony satisfied?"
Remus clenched his hands together, a sudden chill filling him at Moony's low chuckling growl in the depths of his mind. He shivered, horrified.
No, Moony wasn't satisfied. Not at all. Moony wanted more. Moony now knew he owned Severus. Moony now saw Severus as his property, to do with as he willed.
And Moony had every intention of proving it over and over again.
Part 3
... pain...
He woke, gasping, his body one vast aching torment, for a moment not knowing where he was. He shoved back the quilt that lay too heavily over his burning chest, wincing as torn flesh complained on shoulder and rib and arm, half-opened eyes catching glimpses of white on pale skin...
He remembered.
For a moment he froze then scrambled clumsily out of bed, just managing to reach the bathroom in time and falling to his knees as he hunched over the toilet bowl, vomiting what little was in his stomach.
Shaking uncontrollably he slumped back against the cold tiles, gasping, eyes tightly closed but unable to shut out the images in his mind, teeth, claws, the wolf leering through Lupin's eyes... Retching painfully, he crawled to the bath, managing to put the plug in on the third try and turning the hot tap on full.
He barely waited until the bath was half full before half-falling into it, ignoring the pain of almost-scalding water and harsh soap on bruised and broken skin. Gritting his teeth he reached between his legs, frantically scrubbing at himself, desperate to feel clean, focussed solely on cleansing away the...
Oh god... He...
Wide-eyed but unseeing, Severus lowered his face into his hands. Lupin, on and in him. That... beast had...
He couldn't say it. Couldn't even think it. It couldn't have happened. Not to him.
He forced himself to ignore the pain between his legs, the deep throbbing burn inside, in his gut, pulling himself unsteadily upright and out of the red-tinted water. The bandages around his body were wet and red and slipping from their place, the gouges underneath reopening as he moved.
He couldn't bring himself to care.
He couldn't bring himself to do much of anything at the moment. His mind seemed frozen, skating around the events of the last few hours without actually settling on any one specific element. He found himself huddled in bed, cowering against the headboard, without remembering when he'd left the bathroom. The night passed in flashes of remembrance, images of Remus' face, the memory of touch, the wolf's claws and teeth tearing... violence and pain and betrayal... the sky lightened outside, and still he sat, shivering but otherwise unmoving, staring sightlessly into the darkness...
With the morning entrenched routine took over. He found himself in the Potions classroom without knowing how he'd got there. He took the class mechanically, going through the motions as he had for years, while inside his... self seemed to be trapped in a sphere of soundlessness, as if someone had cast silencio deep within his mind. Looking out of his own eyes, he felt as though he were in someone else's ill-fitting, pain-filled body.
The students noticed something was wrong, but to his relief were too much in awe of their Potions Master to risk saying anything...
He struggled through the day, not eating the thought of food made him feel ill managing to keep the most tenuous hold over himself, to stop himself collapsing, or screaming his anguish. But the night brought no reprieve: every time he dared to close his eyes he saw Remus... no, he saw Moony, leering at him, threatening him. The hours limped by 'til morning, and everything repeated itself...
"Severus, won't you tell me what's wrong? I can help..."
The words pierced the muffling layer around him, and his head jerked up sharply, dark, dark-ringed eyes meeting Dumbledore's concerned gaze. For a moment the outer world was real again, and he was tempted to tell the older wizard but the shame, the thought of Dumbledore knowing how weak he had been, the humiliation... it was too much. He had to maintain self-control, had to. Had to hold onto to the rags of his pride. There was too much at stake if he couldn't...
"There is nothing wrong, Headmaster."
"Severus..."
"No, Albus." He fought to keep the despair out of his voice. "You cannot help me."
Dumbledore sighed and lowered his gaze.
"You know that my door is always open, should you change your mind."
He was exhausted, unable to snatch more than a few minutes sleep every night before nightmares woke him, barely able to choke down enough food to keep him from collapsing, distantly aware that his work was suffering, that colleagues and students were regarding him with fear and anxiety. Something within him was urging him to do something, speak to Dumbledore, get help but it was too far away, out of his reach. He was too tired to think rationally, and too... caught, too caged in his own misery to break out of the dreadful rut in which he was now trapped.
After two weeks Dumbledore called the Potions Master to his office, eyeing the suffering man shrewdly from behind his affable and kindly faηade. As Snape collapsed into the chair and dropped his face into his hands, rubbing at darkly-ringed and red-rimmed eyes, the Headmaster pushed a stoppered vial of liquid across the desk. It was a moment before Snape noticed it was there, then his gaze flicked up to Dumbledore's.
"What is it?" His voice, usually so low and precisely-cadenced, sounded cracked and halting; Dumbledore closed his eyes briefly against a surge of sympathy.
"Dreamless Sleep. Extra potent. I want you to take a week off, Professor."
"I'm quite capable of..."
"But you are not. Severus, your dedication to duty and to your students is admirable, but you are not at your best, and the children are suffering because of it." He raised a hand as Snape made to object, pale face twisting in reluctant recognition of the truth of Dumbledore's words. "I must insist. One week to rest, to recover to consider the advisability of seeking help."
"I don't need help."
Dumbledore regarded him, placidly but implacably, and Snape whimpered and closed his eyes.
"You are not well. If it were wise to do so, I would recommend you leave Hogwarts for the week, but I would rather you were here, where we may look after you. If need be, of course."
"But..."
"Please, Severus. Humour an old... friend."
Nodding unhappily, too weak and exhausted to argue, Snape rose and stumbled back to his rooms. Sitting on the edge of his bed, his shaking hands poured a draught from the vial. Drinking it swiftly and lying down, within seconds he had dropped into a deep and dreamless sleep...
... from which he woke screaming, the image of Moony's eyes burning behind his eyelids. Disorientated, for a moment he thought himself back in Lupin's room: the realisation that he was in his own brought no relief. It was as though the potion had simply forced the nightmares deeper down, deeper within him his body might be rested, but his mind was not. He wrapped thin hands around his forehead as what felt like a clap of thunder burst on the inside of his skull, making him feel nauseous and leaving a blinding headache behind it. He rolled onto his side, curled up tensely and panting as the pain speared through his head, eyes tightly closed.
Something wet on his face... He scrabbled at it, realising dimly that he was weeping, adding bitter humiliation to the pain, then dragged the quilt up over his head, wondering if he had the strength to kill himself.
This could not continue.
Part 4
He's ours now. Go to him. Make him know he's ours...
Lupin jerked awake, bolting upright and throwing off the covers, half-way out of bed before he could stop himself. Taking a deep breath he slowly and deliberately walked to the window and gazed out onto the grounds, ignoring Moony's angry growling.
The moon had set, but Lupin knew there were only another five days to the full. He could feel the cold fire in his veins, sparking in synapse and muscle: another five days and it would turn to fire, and Moony would try to break free.
Lupin was distantly surprised the wolf had been relatively quiet and satisfied after the... encounter, so sure of his ownership that he was content to wait until full moon to reinforce it for which Lupin was supremely grateful. It had given him much-needed time to think.
Severus was suffering, that was obvious. He was in what Muggles called denial, it would seem, unable to admit to what had happened and hence deal with. Somehow. Since Lupin had caused the problem well, Moony had caused it but that made no difference unless you were trying to divert blame, which was pointless under the circumstances Lupin must solve it. How, he wasn't entirely sure. But he was sure he'd think of something.
First, however, he had to deal with the wolf.
Dumbledore had arranged, temporarily, to have the wolfsbane made by another brewer, using the excuse that the students were studying the more advanced potions for their N.E.W.Ts and Professor Snape wished them to be able to compare different samples, so Lupin knew he'd be able to maintain some control this full moon. After catching a glimpse of Snape, the day before the Potions Master was given enforced leave, he was determined to retain more than that. His heart had sunk on seeing Severus. The man seemed to have shrunk somehow, his clothes loose on his always-thin frame, his skin tight to his bones, eyes huge and wounded in an almost-white face...
Five days to the full. He had five days to master the wolf. If he wasn't Moony's alpha by then, he'd have to be locked up for the full. Under no circumstances could he inflict himself on Snape again.
Stupid human. Do you really think you can take me?
Lupin was grim. "I will. I will this time."
The wolf sneered lazily.
You won't. Give up, human.
Lupin didn't bother arguing. It was the third night he'd made the attempt, and the hugely gibbous moon hung low in the sky, sliding down behind the grim trees of the Forbidden Forest. Only two days left... Desperately refusing to let the last two night's failures dishearten him, taking a deep breath Lupin headed inwards, feet sure and confident on the gnarled roots and deep moss.
It wasn't just Moony he had to master it was also himself. Below the gut-wrenching feelings of guilt, he still wanted Severus. Still lusted after him. He shook his head, eyes narrowed. Wonderful. He not only had to fight Moony's lusts, but also his own.
Could he do this? He chewed on his bottom lip as he prowled further into the forest. Could he be strong enough to do this? And even if he was, could he maintain control? Would he have to fight Moony for dominance every full moon? Because there was no doubt whatsoever that the wolf wouldn't accept being relegated to beta without fighting for his life. And if - if - Lupin managed it, he'd have to prove himself over and over again, every time Moony tried to wrest back control.
Damn. He stopped in a clearing and rubbed at his forehead, trying to ease the incipient headache. He was asking the impossible of himself...
Yes. Give up. You can never overcome me.
No. No. He had to do this. Had to. He sank down into a crouch, eyes narrowed, hands gripping a thick, rough root. He was no longer prepared to allow Moony to run his life.
For the third time in his life he consciously called up the wolf.
This time the plain was open, desolate, crisp snow sparkling under the gibbous moon, the sky cloudless, the coldness aching. A freezing wind blew lightly, stirring the whiteness under his naked feet, and Lupin shivered helplessly. A yard away from him the wolf snuffled in disdain and curled a lip, moonlight glinting on the fang revealed.
Pathetic. Moony's gaze ran from the top of Lupin's head, over his naked, shuddering body to his feet and back again. You can't even fight the cold. How do you think you can fight me?
How indeed? So much easier just to give up, give in... Moony had won the last two bouts. How could Lupin possibly hope to fight something so... primal...
Wrapping his arms around his chill body, Lupin frowned, trying to think. The last two nights they'd been in the forest, and it had been, if not exactly warm, then at least not as hostile as this freezing barren wilderness. Here, he had to fight the elements as well as Moony. Did that mean the wolf needed an edge? Despite the last two nights' triumphs, was Moony worried about the final outcome?
Probably not: the wolf wasn't mentally equipped to think that way. At least, Lupin didn't think so. But the very thought gave him courage, and a faint hope, and he drew it to himself like a candleflame to fight the dark.
"On your own terms." Lupin gritted his teeth and called up heat from within, a swirling flame of his own anger, his craving for the respect of his colleagues and companions, his loathing of the acts the wolf forced him to perform... his feelings for Severus... Remembering how that potion had felt as it coursed through him, burning, filling him with incandescence only this time he refused to allow it to consume him. Snow melting around him, he leaned forwards, crouching, teeth bared as he snarled at the wolf. Moony hesitated for a moment, then, snarling back, flung himself forwards.
Man and wolf collided in a sunburst of blood-streaked flame.
Moony was not overcome easily. In relative terms the battle may have taken forever: Lupin had no idea how long he'd been crouching in the clearing in the Forbidden Forest. Within him the two parts of his psyche fought, viciously, brutally, for an uncertain dominance, and for a long, long while it wasn't at all clear which would win. Beaten and bleeding, neither would relinquish, until finally Lupin, dredging up strength from an inner darkness he was unwilling to acknowledge, wrapped strong hands around the wolf's throat and flung Moony onto his back, squatting over the startled animal and snarling into its blood-streaked face.
"Mine."
... no... you cannot...
"Your rules. Your world. I win."
And Moony whimpered, cowering under the fierce human eyes.
Lupin slumped to the ground, shaking violently. He felt as though he'd been through a mangle backwards, but at least he was physically unharmed this time. His head was pounding but inside Moony was crawling on his belly, accepting his domination.
For now, at any rate.
Lupin shoved a hand through his dishevelled hair and sighed. He'd have to keep a very close eye on the wolf, make sure to slap down the least hint of challenge before it had a chance to grow, but at least now he felt he could do it...
He paused, breath held for a moment, then smiled tremulously but with dawning wonder.
He could do it. He could control the wolf.
Yes, it was precarious. Yes, he'd have to be constantly wary and alert to what Moony was doing. Yes, he would most likely have to fight again when Moony felt strong enough to try to reassert his dominance. But it could be done. He'd just proved it. And for now, oh, for now...
Lupin pulled himself upright, flung his arms wide, threw back his head and howled victoriously to the morning air, while to his delight Moony, still bleeding, rolled over, offering his belly to his alpha.
Dumbledore's eyebrow quirked at the sight of the Defence Against the Dark Arts professor as Lupin strode up the stairs to the great Hall.
"I see you are feeling much better."
Lupin nodded.
"I am."
The Headmaster smiled.
"A battle hard fought and decisively won, I think. You are to be congratulated."
"Thank you."
Albus inclined his head.
"And Severus?"
Lupin paused for a moment.
He's in his rooms?"
"Indeed. Resting, I trust."
I need to see him."
Dumbledore nodded.
"I concur. But... it must be done gently, and with compassion."
"I know, Headmaster. And I will be both."
"Then you have my blessing, my boy."
"Thank you..."
With no idea of just how he was going to do so but absolutely determined to put right the great wrong he had committed, Lupin made his way to Snape's rooms, trusting to his new-found confidence and determination to find the right way to reach the Potions Master.
Part 5
Lupin paused outside the door, hand hovering over the doorknob, and took a deep breath. For once Moony was silent: it felt very strange.
Lupin knocked on the door. There was no answer, but his moon-enhanced hearing caught the faint sounds of movement against fabric, what could have been a stifled whimper, and he slowly but purposefully opened the door.
The wash of light from the hall brightened only the first few feet of the room: heavy curtains were pulled against what little light could enter. It was cold, and there was a faint scent of sickness on the air, a scent of despair. The door to Snape's bedroom was ajar, the deeper darkness beyond salted with the scent of fear.
"Severus? I am coming in."
The scent intensified, and he could almost see the Potions Master cowering back against the ancient heavy bedframe, holding his breath and struggling desperately for this not to be happening.
No point in fact, it would be unnecessarily cruel in keeping him waiting. Lupin stepped in then closed the door quietly, the light from his wand a pale gold-streaked blue in the darkness. He stood for a moment, then walked calmly to the bedroom, his pace measured and deliberate.
"Go away."
The voice was weak, shaking, so quiet even his hearing only just caught it. He paused for a second and shook his head.
"I'm sorry Severus. I can't do that."
"I... no..."
Severus was panicking, he could tell from the rising tone and the acrid scent of terror that now overlaid the sickness in the rooms. Cursing himself silently he stood in the doorway, wand raised to cast its pale glow as far as possible, and gazed in horror and sympathy at the man in the bed.
"Oh, Severus..."
"... go away...
Glancing quickly around the room, Lupin used his wand to light several of the candles on the chest of drawers, then, still moving slowly, seated himself at the foot of the bed. Snape appeared to be trying to crawl through the wall in his efforts to get as far away from his unwanted visitor as he could.
And he looked like death. A study in ashy white and black, shaking violently, bruised-purple-ringed eyes huge and terrified staring at Lupin from above cheekbones that looked sharp enough to cut aconite.
So thin... Lupin would be prepared to swear he hadn't eaten in days, if not weeks. He sighed and moved closer, ignoring Snape's frantic, whimpered pleas for him to stay back, then gripped the man's thin cold wrists in his own warm, strong hands.
Snape froze, every muscle tensed, so tight that for a moment Lupin felt sure something must snap.
"I'm not here to hurt you."
"... wolf..."
"He won't hurt you either. Not now, and not ever again." Snape began to shiver helplessly, and Lupin fought to resist the nearly overwhelming urge to pull him close. "Severus, I'm sorry. I know that isn't enough, not nearly enough, and never will be, but it's all I can offer for now." He paused for a moment, but Snape's expression didn't change. "But you of all people should know not to bait a dark creature."
There was a response to that: Snape's body jerked as if trying to pull away from Lupin's grasp. Lupin smiled grimly.
"You know the effect of silver on werewolves."
Snape's breathing was fast and shallow, and Lupin wasn't at all sure he was taking in anything that was said. But Lupin had to continue. It wasn't justification there was no justification for what he'd done but, as Dumbledore had implied, Snape had tortured him. For something he himself had initiated, albeit unwittingly... He swallowed and closed his eyes. No. He would not continue down that track. Moony wanted him there, filled with righteous indignation, but it wouldn't help Severus one little bit. He took a deep breath.
"You know, Severus. And you know the nature of werewolves, probably better than anyone else alive. Except me. Did you think that part of me would accept what you were doing? I couldn't. Severus. It was sheer bloody agony and I... lost myself. I know you won't admit you were in the wrong, but just think for a second. What did you think was going to happen? Did you really think I was going to lie there and bear it? That I'd be able to lie there and take it?"
To Lupin's surprise Severus appeared to be listening, appeared to be less terrified than before. The Defence Against the Dark Arts Professor ploughed on grimly.
"That side is animal, Severus. It doesn't think, not as rational beings think. It feels, all it knows is what it receives through its senses. It obeys its primal needs and one of those is for dominance. You know that, Severus." He half-smiled mirthlessly. "And you know how wolves establish dominance."
"You do not rule me." The voice was weak, but not as shaky as it had been. Lupin shook his head.
"No, I don't rule you. I don't want to. I have no wish to dominate you, either. You're a strong man, Severus, strong and knowledgeable and proud. And both Moony and I find you... a challenge. A puzzle. And very attractive."
Snape froze again, his mouth dropping open.
"You... What?"
Lupin loosened his grip and raised one hand to Snape's face, very gently stroking the cold cheek, pulling away when the Potions Master flinched backwards and collided with the cold iron bars of the headboard.
"You are an attractive man."
Snape stared at him as if he'd suddenly sprouted a second head.
"You're mad."
Lupin felt an odd little optimistic lifting of his heart that had sounded almost like the normal Severus. He gazed at Snape solemnly.
"Occasionally. But not right now." He sighed and settled back a little. "Severus, I'm not going to excuse what happened, but you can't carry on like this. Let me help. If it makes you feel better, you can... abuse me. For a while, at least."
"I don't want you anywhere near me."
Lupin shook his head.
"I'm afraid I can't comply with that. I need to take care of you."
"You think I want my... rapist anywhere near me?"
"But wouldn't you welcome the opportunity to get your own back?"
There was a startled silence, then Snape's eyes narrowed in a frown...
Albus watched the odd couple surreptitiously, satisfaction hidden behind the light reflecting off his half-moon spectacles. It had taken Severus several months to decide to believe Remus, to start to trust him insofar as a man like Snape ever trusted anyone - but once he'd made that decision... What happened in private Albus neither knew nor wanted to know, but in public... Outwardly they were the same as ever. It hadn't taken Snape too long to recover his old, unpleasant demeanour, with both his students and Lupin. And Lupin was as gentle and understanding as his students had come to expect, though his manner was slightly more decisive than previously. But there were mornings when the two arrived for breakfast together, sharing the tiniest of eloquent, intimate glances, one or other of them moving a little awkwardly, being a little more careful when sitting down, that spoke volumes to anyone who noticed. Which, Albus was happy to see, was only himself.
A curious coupling, he thought to himself. Both embraced by the darkness, both forced to be solitary by circumstance, both in need of... companionship. The Headmaster may not have engineered the matter, but he was most heartily glad to see the two men no longer lonely. He smiled to himself, remembering Lupin's dry but telling comment on being asked how... things... were going.
"It's an interesting game, Headmaster. And quite elegant in its own way. We've both lost a lot of pieces, but the important ones are still on the board."
"And who do you think will win?"
Lupin had chuckled.
"Oh, we're not playing to win, Headmaster. We're simply enjoying the game. And there's no end in sight."
"A stalemate, then?"
"No." Lupin had replied, voice and face softening minutely as he watched Snape stalk towards his next class, robes billowing around him. "An equal match. A draw, at worst. Far, far in the future."
Dumbledore had patted his arm.
"I am happy for you both."
Lupin eyed him thoughtfully.
"Did you know this would happen?"
Albus smiled.
"Know? Ah, no. Hoped, perhaps.
"I see. Well, thank you anyway." He nodded briefly and headed off to his own class, leaving Dumbledore gazing after him.
Yes, thought the Headmaster. Companionship, sharp minds for sparring, an equality that neither of them would admit, an interdependence that neither would have ever imagined... Yes, despite its inglorious inception, it was a good match.
© 2007 August 20th Joules