Down

~Down~


Part 2 of 3:

Severus took his usual short cut to the library – up the back staircase to the seventh floor, then through a dark, narrow corridor that no one else ever seemed to use. It was quicker to go this way, ironically, because those back stairs didn’t bloody move all the time like the main staircases did, and one could avoid all those exasperating Gryffindor portraits and tapestries and what not that seemed to sense a Slytherin in their midst immediately, and commence their tiresome jeering. If it weren’t for meals and books, he really would be content to live out his days in the dungeons, where he at least seemed to be welcome.

He was just passing through that lonely corridor up on the seventh floor, snorting derisively at that absurd tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy, when he heard the voices.

“But what the hell do you two talk about, anyway?” the first voice whined.

“Lots of things. He’s very clever, you know, and he’s got interesting opinions on the things that go on in this world. Unlike some people… Ow!” The second voice laughed playfully.

“All right, I can see how your superior intellect requires stimulating conversation occasionally, but honestly - Snivellus? Are you quite certain you can’t chat up that Ravenclaw prefect on the same matters?”

Severus stopped cold, searching the walls for the source of the voices. He had never seen nor heard a soul up here before.

More laughter from the second voice. “That Ravenclaw prefect, I’ll have you know, made a blatant pass at me in the stacks last week, so no, I don’t think I’ll be asking her opinion on world war anytime soon. Wouldn’t want you to get jealous, after all.”

The first voice snorted. “Are you saying I’m jealous, of Snivellus? You take that back, Moony, you take it back right this instant!”

Moony. Severus’s mind raced as he closely followed the wall of the corridor, the distant voices getting louder.

“I will not. You are jealous, Sirius Black, and it’s time you admitted it! You are bitter and jealous that I am able to have normal conversations with Snape, that I actually believe he’s a normal human being, and, furthermore, that I even enjoy his company!”

“Stop it!” the first voice, Sirius, moaned. “I can’t believe I’m hearing these things from you.”

Severus stopped abruptly in his search of the corridor. Right in front of him, partially hidden behind a tall pillar at one end of an otherwise blank wall, was a bit of crumbled stone. He bent slightly and peered through it, then immediately wished he hadn’t.

His eyes drank in the astonishing sight of Remus stretched out on his stomach on top of a large mattress, completely naked, his face turned to the side and resting on his arms. Beside him, leaning casually back on his elbows while running one foot up and down Remus’s leg, was an equally disrobed Sirius Black.

Severus’s eyes widened as his stomach turned over. Lupin and Black? Merlin’s rotting corpse. He thought he would be sick.

Their light-hearted conversation seemed to be turning angry.

“What can’t you believe?” Remus was saying irritably. “That I don’t blindly follow you and Prongs in your stupid opinions of people? That I’m capable of making friends with people other than you two?”

“And Peter,” Sirius added.

Remus swore under his breath. “Fine, whatever, and Peter.” He lifted his head and regarded Sirius intently. “You’re being a prat. I forgave you for your fucking ‘prank,’ or whatever you want to call it, but I’m still not happy about the way you and James treat him.”

“And I’m not happy about the way you defend him! He wanted to get you expelled, Moony! That’s why he was following us in the first place, have you forgotten that?! He’s a nosy, good-for-nothing, unwashed, slimy git, and he’ll never be anything other than a nosy, good-for-nothing, smelly - ”

“Fuck off, Sirius.” Remus jumped up then and strode across the room to a pile of clothing, digging through it for his trousers. “Just fuck off and leave me in peace, would you? I’m sick of your bullshit.”

Sirius sat up in alarm as he watched Remus pull his trousers on. “Whoa, whoa, come on, Moony, don’t get mad.” Sirius spoke in a coaxing, honey-coated voice, full of oily confidence that he could lure Remus back to his bed. This revolting trick had the air of something that had worked my times before. “I’m sorry, baby, really I am. I didn’t mean to upset you. Come on back over here, please…”

“No,” said Remus shortly, fastening his trousers and searching for his t-shirt. \"We need to get out of here anyway - this place makes me nervous. I don\'t like lying around naked in the middle of the school.\"

Sirius waved a hand. \"No, no, I made sure the place is nice and secure this time, Moony. No more of Wormtail and his voyeurism, I promise.\"

When Remus snorted but didn\'t respond further, Sirius rose and wandered over to where he stood bent over the pile of discarded items of clothing. He reached out and laid a hand on Remus’s back, stroking gently up and down as he whispered in his lover’s ear. “Please, Moony, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said any of that. I’m just jealous, is all – you were right; I’m afraid Sniv- Snape is going to steal you away from me…”

Remus straightened and turned around in surprise. “What? Why would you think that?”

“Because of all the things you just said! You’re always going on about how smart he is, and how he understands all these advanced books, and how he modifies Swahili potions in his spare time, etc etc – what else am I supposed to think? I’m basically convinced you’re ready to set a fire in the stacks so you can distract Madam Pince while you jump the guy.”

Remus laughed then and shook his head. He twisted his t-shirt around in his hands as he stood before Sirius, trousers sitting low on his hips. Out in the hall, Severus’s eyes were glued to the smattering of light brown curls covering Remus’s torso, thickening as they gathered at his navel and below. He felt his cock stir in frustration – only the entirely unappealing sight of Black’s naked arse beside Remus was keeping him from achieving a substantial erection at this peep show.

Remus put his hands on his hips as he faced Sirius, his face aglow with mirth. “Me and Snape?!” he asked incredulously. “You honestly think I’m in danger of leaving you for Snape?!”

“Well… I guess I could see how he’d appeal to you, physically I mean. You obviously go for dark hair, and - ”

Remus resumed his chuckling and wiped his eyes. “Oh, please! First of all, I quite have my hands full with you, thanks very much; I certainly don’t need to add another angst-ridden, snarky bastard to my pile of lovers.”

Sirius gave him a playful punch on the arm. “Hey!”

“And second of all,” Remus continued, “Snape is not exactly first on my list of people I’d line up to fuck, were I not preoccupied with you.”

Out in the corridor, Severus felt all the wind leave his lungs in one sudden jolt. He momentarily closed his eyes.

“Oh no?” Sirius teased. “Poor Snivellus! I bet he’s dying to fuck you, you know. I bet that’s why he’s spending so much time with you. No offence, baby, but that brilliant little mind of yours will never draw the lads in the way that arse of yours does…”

He reached out and grabbed the waistband of Remus’s trousers, pulling him close. “Oh yes, I bet young Snivvy sits in that library with you getting hard as a rock while you argue the finer points of African potion-brewing with him.” He reached a hand into the trousers and brushed the soft curls there.

Remus moaned and pushed his hips up.

“I bet he leaves your little brainiac sessions and goes back to his dungeon and beats off so hard the whole castle shakes, thinking of what he’d like to do to you.” Sirius was whispering hotly in Remus’s ear as one hand continued its exploration inside his trousers, the other snaking up the back of Remus’s neck.

Remus pulled back slightly, grinning wickedly. “Padfoot, I cannot think of anything I would rather do less than fuck Severus Snape, and I similarly cannot think of anything that makes me more uncomfortable than the thought of Severus Snape wanking while imagining fucking me.” He laughed and pulled Sirius in for a searing kiss. “Now where did that hand of yours go? Ahh…”

He moaned as Sirius unfastened his trousers for the second time that afternoon, pushing them to his feet and allowing him to kick them aside. Naked again, he followed his lover back to the ample mattress the Room of Requirement had conjured for them when they had come looking for it an hour ago.

Suddenly feeling wild and urgent, he pushed Sirius down on the bed and straddled him, grinding their hips together.

“Fuck, Moony!” cried Sirius. “You’re all I want, you know that, right? All of you…” He buried his head to the side and allowed Remus to lick and bite and kiss up and down his torso, his neck, his arms. “Tell me you want me,” he said suddenly, looking Remus straight in the eye. “Tell me I’m the only one you want.”

Remus smiled and bit his lip. Desire flooded his grey eyes as he roved them over Sirius’s body. “Oh yes, you’re the only one I want,” he confirmed in a hoarse whisper. “The only one.”

“Good,” Sirius breathed, a new glint in his dark eyes. “Then you know what I want right now.” He sat up and in one movement flipped them over so that he was on top of Remus, pinning his arms above his head. His mouth began roaming over every inch of Remus’s skin, eliciting loud groans of encouragement.

“Tell me what you’re going to do to me,” Remus whispered. “Tell me, Padfoot…”

Sirius bit down gently on a nipple before raising his head and locking his gaze on Remus. “In a minute, when I’m done licking your chest,” he began, “I’m going to run my tongue up and down your cock.”

Remus gasped, and it seemed as though the very room thrummed from the blood hammering through his veins.

“Then I’m going to take you in my mouth, all of you, over and over again until you’re writhing under me.”

Remus’s breath came heavily as his eyes drifted closed. “Then?” he managed.

“Then, my little werewolf - ” Sirius paused dramatically - “I’m going to flip you over…”

“Yes…”

“And haul you up on your knees…”

“Oh gods…”

Sirius dropped his voice to a sultry purr and drew out every syllable. “And fuck you.”

Remus’s eyes snapped open and he pulled Sirius’s head down to his, their tongues tangling expertly before Remus broke the kiss off again. “Do it,” he ordered, pushing his lover down his body.

Sirius grinned wickedly as he traced his tongue along Remus’s navel, taking his time to circle the dip in the skin, nibbling gently at the soft curls surrounding it.

“Now, Padfoot!” urged Remus, pushing Sirius’s shoulders down towards his groin. \"Just do it now, please…”

Sirius grinned as he obliged, bending his head and taking Remus’s cock in his mouth all at once. He gripped Remus’s hips and let him thrust with increased urgency, then he groaned deeply, knowing his lover would feel the vibration of his lips.

“Ohhh, gods, fuck Padfoot, so good…” Remus babbled incoherently as his head thrashed back and forth on the mattress. “I can’t- I’m going to- you have to stop, not yet… ah…”

Sirius lifted his head and gazed into Remus’s eyes. “Did you say, ‘stop’?” he teased. He sat up and traced an index finger where his mouth had just been.

“Fuck me,” Remus whispered, watching Sirius carefully from under heavy lids. “Just, please – now, do it.” He reached down and grabbed Sirius’s cock. “You know you want to...”

Sirius grabbed his shoulders and flipped him over. “Look at you, asking for it like this, begging me…” He reached out and found a discarded jar of lubrication on the floor beside the mattress, hastily unscrewing the lid and slicking his fingers. “You sure you’re ready for this?” he taunted.

Remus buried his head in the pillow and moaned. “Do it, do it, do it…” he repeated. “I can’t wait... Sirius, please…”

“Wait, baby, be patient.” Sirius straddled his lover and bent to gently run his tongue down Remus’s back, following it with his fingernails.

“Ah!” cried Remus. “Oh, like that, do that again…”

Sirius scratched deeper, raising a crimson welt across Remus’s pale shoulder blade, then continuing down to the base of his spine. “You want it rough this time, wolf?” he whispered hotly at the back of Remus’s neck.

“Yes,” whispered Remus. “Oh, gods yes…” He felt a slick finger enter him then and he cried out.

Another finger joined the first, as Sirius slowly stretched and prepared him. He curled his fingers and found Remus’s prostate, rubbing back and forth until his lover became a muttering mess, breathing raggedly and pushing back into Sirius’s hand.

“You think you’re ready for me?” asked Sirius teasingly. “Think you can handle me?”

“Yes.”

Sirius withdrew his fingers and pulled Remus’s hips up, then slicked himself with the rest of the lubrication and ran one hand slowly, soothingly, up and down Remus’s back. “You know I love you, Remus, don’t you?” he whispered, in a rare use of his lover’s given name, then he plunged slowly into the waiting depths.

Remus exhaled slowly as the breath was pushed out of him by the intrusion of Sirius’s cock. Sweat broke out on his brow and he gasped for air. “Ahhh…” he panted. “Slowly, please Padfoot… just- slowly...\"

Sirius paused for a moment to allow Remus’s muscles to relax, his insides to adjust, then he began a slow thrusting rhythm. They rocked together as Sirius gained momentum. “You hot little piece of arse,” he cried, thrusting with increased urgency. \"You’ll be the death of me, Remus, I need you too much, I need you…”

“Touch me,\" Remus panted desperately, his fists balled in the sheets, his head hanging low between his raised shoulders.

Sirius obliged, reaching one hand around and grasping Remus’s cock. “Moony! Ah, I can’t- oh gods...” He groaned deeply, a sound that seemed to come from the very bottom of his lungs, and clutched at Remus like a drowning man.

Remus moaned and bucked underneath Sirius, finding his own release a moment later, and in seconds they were both boneless, Sirius collapsing on top of Remus in an exhausted pile of limbs.


*********************************************


Out in the corridor, Severus Snape backed slowly away from the crumbled stone hole in the wall to the Room of Requirement, his hands shaking violently and his stomach churning with a sickening mixture of arousal, repulsion, disappointment, and rage.

I cannot think of anything I would rather do less than fuck Severus Snape.

He stumbled back through the hall, down the stairs, out the front doors of the castle, and barely made it to the lake before collapsing on his knees, coughing and retching.

Two weeks later, after acing his NEWTs and reluctantly attending his graduation ceremony, Severus Snape met Lucius Malfoy at the front gates of Hogwarts, a single suitcase in hand, a single purpose in mind.

Many men have imagined republics and principalities that never really existed at all. Yet the way men live is so far removed from the way they ought to live that anyone who abandons what is for what should be pursues his downfall rather than his preservation; for a man who strives after goodness in all his acts is sure to come to ruin, since there are so many men who are not good.

He would not speak to Remus Lupin again for nearly three years.


*********************************************


The Dark Lord’s service was not, as it turned out, as immoral as Severus had anticipated it would be. As promised, he had his own laboratory, complete with capable assistants over whom he was granted full authority; an endless stock of any and all ingredients he required; and free rein to conduct whatever experiments he wished. In return, Voldemort had asked only that he become a full Death Eater, to take the oath – to submit to the Mark – that enlisted him completely and utterly into servitude; and, furthermore, that he brew any potion Voldemort required of him, without asking questions.

He knew what he was making, of course: poisons, death-sleep draughts, aphrodisiacs – all the illegal potions he’d read about during his time at Hogwarts – but as promised, he asked no questions. He worked steadily, sixteen hours a day or more at times, and tried not to think about the effects his work was having on the wider Wizarding and Muggle worlds. After a year, nothing surprised him anymore. After two years, he could anticipate the cycles in which Voldemort would demand certain potions – the poisons would come only after a period of calm, for instance, and the explosives would usually follow a round of poisonings. As his third year in Voldemort’s service drew to a close, Severus had almost completely lost his ability to feel anything towards his work. He no longer enjoyed potion-brewing as he once did, and he no longer felt the horror of his early days when given a particularly gruesome assignment. He simply felt nothing.

He had been asked to brew the most atrocious combinations of ingredients, the most vile, despicable potions he had ever dared to dream up – he was certain that there wasn’t anything they could ask of him now that he would be unable, morally, to concoct.

Or so he thought, until one autumn day when Lucius Malfoy, who had become something of a second-in-command for the Dark Lord, visited Severus in his laboratory.

“Dear boy,” Lucius sniffed, surveying his surroundings. “What on earth are you making in here? It smells abominable.” He wrinkled his nose at Severus, who simply shook his head.

“Lucius,” he sighed. “As always, I am honoured to host your charming self in my humble laboratory. What is the order this time?” Voldemort usually sent a lesser underling to deliver requests for potions, but occasionally Lucius would show up to assign the more important tasks personally.

“Oh, it’s a real treat this time, Severus,” Lucius drawled, a diabolical smile curving his lips. “I daresay you shall very much enjoy this one.”

Severus frowned. He hated when Lucius made him feel as though he should relish the evil scheming portion of the job. He would do his work as assigned, but he refused to ponder the ramifications of what he was doing, or, moreover, to enjoy brewing potions that would make innocent people suffer.

“Leave it on the table, please,” he instructed, then turned back to his main cauldron to check the fire. “I have a lot to do today, Lucius, I’m afraid I have no time for small talk.”

“Indeed?” Lucius pressed. “Bear with me for a moment, old boy. Now, what if I were to tell you that the Dark Lord has a new plan, a scheme to get the most resistant of the Dark Creatures on our side once and for all?”

Severus’s heart lurched. No. He couldn’t mean…

Lucius stood waiting for a response to his teasing hint, but Severus suddenly felt a knot of coal settle deep in his stomach. He swallowed quickly and turned again to face his colleague.

“Is that so?” he asked nonchalantly.

“That is so. The Werewolf Packs, as you know, are fiercely independent – notoriously so. We’ve tried everything; they just won’t join with us. Claim they’re doing fine on their own, thank you very much – well, what rubbish! Gangs of criminals, that’s what they are.” Lucius turned his nose up again, as though one of them had just passed under it. “But, the Dark Lord believes that if we could harness their penchant for trouble-making among the Muggles, if we could just get them under our control, they would be a crucial weapon for us.”

Severus slumped against the countertop, trying to keep his knees steady. No, they couldn’t do this, not now, not after he’d worked so hard to forget…

“Mmm,” he grunted. “Yes, they could be useful. What does the Dark Lord propose?”

“Ah.” Lucius slipped a roll of parchment out of his robes and handed it to Severus. “He has decided that the first step will be to get them all here, to his headquarters.”

Severus quickly scanned the page, then looked up. “All of them?” he asked. “Why, there must be five thousand in northern Europe! It’s impossible.”

Lucius waved his hand. “No, no, not all of northern Europe, just the ones closest by, in England and southern Scotland. There are only a hundred on the Ministry rolls, and we’ve calculated that another hundred and fifty or so are roaming in Packs, unregistered.”

Frowning, Severus looked back at the parchment. “And this is how you propose to corral them?”

Lucius nodded, watching Severus carefully for signs of impending disobedience. “Shouldn’t be a problem for you, should it?”

“Of course not,” snapped Snape. “I could make this with one hand tied behind my back. Dispensing it, however, will be another matter entirely. How does the Dark Lord propose to disseminate it, short of polluting werewolf drinking water?”

Lucius grinned. “Ah, right there – you see, I told the Dark Lord that you were up to this task. ‘Never underestimate old Severus,’ I said, and damned if I wasn’t right.”

“You are going to put it in the drinking water?!” Snape stared at Lucius incredulously. His brow furrowed as he glanced again at the parchment. “All right, it wouldn’t affect non-werewolves at all, so theoretically it’s possible to pollute the entire supply of England and Scotland, but Lucius, this is madness! You can’t - ”

“Madness?” Lucius stepped forward, a pleasant but dangerous smile on his lips. “Do you doubt the wisdom of the Dark Lord’s plans, Severus?”

Severus noted quickly that his colleague’s hand was on his wand, hidden within the folds of his robes. “No, Lucius, I have never doubted the wisdom of the Dark Lord’s plans,” he said, reciting the words that his years of Death Eater servitude had taught him. “I was simply expressing my concern for his valuable time, and that of his Death Eaters. How does he propose to accomplish such a complex and dangerous task?”

Lucius relaxed slightly, seemingly satisfied. “That, dear friend, he leaves to you. He wants this potion brewed immediately and disseminated to the werewolves on this list.” He handed over another piece of parchment, with one hundred names elaborately listed in Ministry calligraphy. “The territorial instinct stoppered in that potion will lead them here, where we will pen them up until they sign their lives away to us. After we get these hundred, we will be in a better position to go after the Packs.”

Severus nodded dully. “Very well, Lucius, I shall begin immediately.” He placed the parchment on his work table and glanced at it, then set about pulling jars and bottles off his shelves.

“Good lad, Severus. I shall be back tomorrow to check your progress.” Lucius turned on his heel with a flourish and headed for the door.

“Lucius, wait,” called Severus after a moment, as something occurred to him. “Why did you say that I would enjoy this one more than the others?”

Lucius paused and cast a glance back over his shoulder. “Because I know how positively repulsive you find werewolves, Severus. Remember studying them in your third year at Hogwarts?” He chuckled at the memory. “You were absolutely livid to learn that such beasts actually existed, actually shared the same air as you. Not that I blame you, of course – they truly are vile creatures, completely useless to society, not to mention the appalling public health issue they pose. Can you imagine what would happen to pure-blood lines if a werewolf were to sink his teeth into one of our children?” His face darkened and Severus noticed a brief shudder pass through the other man.

“Now the Dark Lord has presented you with an opportunity on a silver platter – pardon the terrible pun.” He laughed to himself, dabbing at his eyes as he regarded Severus. “This is an opportunity to face your greatest nightmare and turn it to your advantage, to our advantage. Bring those despicable creatures before the Dark Lord, Severus, and I promise you, you will never have to fear them again. They will no longer pose a threat to our children,” he insisted, his voice full of quiet fury now. Severus had the distinct impression that the other man was much more concerned for the Malfoy bloodline than the Snape one, but if he needed to project that fear onto another, so be it.

“Once they drink the water,” Lucius concluded, “once they get here, those wretched, disgusting werewolves will not come out alive. If they do, it will be as brainwashed emissaries to the Pack leaders.”

Still chuckling at the cleverness of the plan, Lucius made his exit.

As soon as the door had closed behind him, Severus lurched into the nearest cabinet as his legs gave way. He only barely caught himself on the countertop to prevent slinking all the way to the floor. His breath came hard and fast as his brain fogged with memories… Remus that night by the lake, apologising… Remus in the library, discussing Severus’s future… Remus on all fours, filled with Sirius’s cock, declaring he could never be attracted to his greasy Slytherin study-buddy…

That fucking werewolf.

Severus gathered his strength again and made his way over to his desk, where he dropped into his high-backed chair and let his head fall into his hands. How could he possibly feel guilty about this? He owed Remus Lupin nothing. He had a job to do now, and any feelings he might have had for the werewolf had been stamped clean out of him years ago. In fact, he hadn’t wasted a single minute thinking about Remus since the day Lucius had collected him at Hogwarts. It had all been just an embarrassing schoolboy crush, that was it. Water under the bridge, as they say.

Severus got up and poured himself a Scotch from his personal stores, also compliments of the Dark Lord. He was no longer a teenager, perpetually led around by the whims of his cock, he remembered – not like when he was seventeen. He had a new master now; he had work to do. Things were expected of him, and the price for disobedience was higher than he could afford to pay. Much higher.

He threw the shot straight down his throat and grimaced as it burned in his chest. If only that were true, he thought with frustration – if only those feelings really were gone. If only he could pull off this task without remorse. He poured another drink and stood for a long time, staring blankly into the raging fire in the hearth beside his desk.

After some time an idea occurred to him, and he went over to his bookshelves and plucked out a slim volume. He flipped quickly to the relevant pages, read with great interest, then slammed the book shut again. His brow furrowed in concentration, his mind reeling with new information. Could it work? Was it possible? And, more importantly, did he have the balls to even attempt it?

His mind flashed back to Remus, lounging in his chair in the library during their NEWT study sessions. It’s not about good versus evil, Snape – it’s about doing what’s right, for you personally. There is no ‘greater good’; there’s only an assortment of personal morals and standards in the world. You have to live by your own code of conduct, not anyone else’s. He’d laughed then, at his own lecture. Well, maybe that’s just my experience talking, but then again, that’s because there is literally an entire governing institution seeking to make me live by their code of conduct, and by the way, it is not one that jives with my personal morals at all… Nah, Snape, I’m telling you: join Voldemort or don’t, it’s your choice. But remember that individual choice is one of the fundamental freedoms of our time; help a despot come to power, and it will likely be the last free choice you ever make.

Severus screwed the lid back on the bottle of Scotch and continued his laboratory work, having made a quiet decision to make up for the terrible mistake he’d made in joining Voldemort’s camp in the first place.


*********************************************


Severus spent the afternoon and early evening brewing the werewolf tracking potion Lucius had requested, filling eight tiny stoppered bottles with it and placing the group of them on his work table.

Later that night, fortified by another round of Scotch, he sat down in one of the chocolate-coloured leather armchairs in his study. Feet firmly planted on the floor, arms straight out on either side of him, head erect and staring forward, he closed his eyes. Immediately the pages of the book he had consulted earlier that day came back to him, the words swimming across the backs of his eyelids.

Establishing a connection without eye contact is the most difficult and advanced form of Legilimency. The party attempting the connection must know where the other party is, to exact coordinates, and must sit perfectly still. The mind must relax completely and allow itself to fill with images of the message the sender intends to convey to the recipient…

Breathing deeply and evenly, Severus gathered all the strength in his body, mind, and soul and poured it into creating an image in his consciousness of Remus, drinking from the tap at the headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix, then collapsing in a heap on the floor. After a moment, the image was so real, so striking, that Severus almost gasped and opened his eyes – almost believed he was truly seeing it. Focus. He let another minute go by, still holding the image strongly in his head, then began the incantation in a steady whisper.

“Hear me, Albus, I need your help. Hear me, Albus, I need your help. Hear me, Albus, I need your help…”

He repeated it constantly for what seemed like ages. Nothing. Focus, he warned himself again. He’d been concentrating on Dumbledore’s office at Hogwarts, hoping with all his soul that the man was there – because if he wasn’t, Severus had no idea where else he would be, and distance-Legilimency would not work if he could not place the recipient to exact coordinates. He could imagine what the Order’s headquarters might look like, but he had never been there, and had no idea where it was. Dumbledore had to be at Hogwarts. He doubled his efforts and tried again.

“Hear me Albus, Remus is in grave danger. I need your help, I need you to hear me. Please Albus, I need your help…”

Slowly, gradually, a responding voice spoke through the energy field circulating in Severus’s brain.

“Severus,” it said softly. “I am here, my friend. What do you need?”

Severus almost choked up with the mixture of surprise, gratitude, and shame he felt at hearing Dumbledore’s voice in his head. His former Headmaster had no business helping him in any way, not after Severus had so callously thrown the old man’s offer of a place in the Order right back in his face the day he’d stormed off to join the Death Eaters. But now he was here; the plan had worked. Dumbledore would help him.

“I can’t do this, Albus,” Severus responded, not even attempting to hide his desperation. “They are gathering the werewolves. They’re coming for Remus – it will be in the drinking water; you must keep him from the water! Please, Albus, I must get out, I can’t do what they’re asking…”

“Severus, listen to me. This is very dangerous, very dangerous indeed; if we hold this connection much longer, Tom will know about it. The first place you must go tomorrow morning – don’t tell me where; it doesn’t matter where – Fawkes will meet you there. Tell him everything, and we will help you. But be careful, my boy, be very careful…”

The voice faded out as Dumbledore cut him off, fearing Voldemort’s discovery that his Potions Master had used his laboratory and Dark Arts books to communicate with the enemy’s leader. Severus shuddered violently and doubled over, gasping for breath. Sweet mother of Merlin, he felt as though he’d been knocked over by a rampaging hippogriff.

Slowly opening his eyes, he surveyed the office around him with a glassy, half-focused gaze. He had always possessed a strong mind, a disciplined mind, but he had only read about Legilimency and Occlumency in books; he had never tried either of them before. And to spend his first time attempting distance-Legilimency! His hands shook as he rose from the chair on unsteady legs and crossed the room to his sleeping chambers.

Slipping into his bed, he quickly gathered the blankets around him as he shivered with sudden cold. He fell into a restless sleep, images in neon colours exploding like paint bombs behind his eyes. A cave. A hippogriff. A man with a suitcase and a cane. A red-headed woman with a baby. A run-down house. Two run-down houses, one howling. A streak of green light. A large black dog. A cemetery. Narrow, red eyes and a high, cold laugh. A rat. A veil. A moon.

And then the images stopped; the moon grew and grew in Severus’s hallucinating mind, changing shape until it turned into a face, then a door, then Remus was walking through it, into his dreams, into his room…

“Well, Snape,” dream-Remus said to him good-naturedly, “This is quite the mess you’ve gotten yourself into, isn’t it? And as much as I hate to say ‘I told you so,’ I did, you may recall, tell you so.”

“Shut up, Lupin,” Severus found himself saying. “I’m trying to save your bloody life, if you don’t mind. A touch of gratitude would not go amiss.”

Remus chuckled. “Ah, touché, old friend.” He bowed playfully. “My most bounteous thanks, Master Snape, for saving my life.”

“Why do I have trouble believing you mean that?” Severus growled.

Remus’s eyes softened and the smile died at his lips. He gazed at Severus intently and with gravity. “I mean it,” he said, his face flushed with emotion. “I don’t know why you’ve done this, why you’ve put yourself at risk like this, but I’m grateful. I owe you a life debt now, you know. And what a ruddy time – just when you’re going to be hunted by the Death Eaters for treason.” He smiled again and crossed his arms. “But if I can help you in return, I will. You know that, right?”

“I do,” replied Severus softly, his heart beating fast as he drank in the sight of dream-Remus: patched robes of a deep grey, fraying at the bottom and barely covering his scuffed boots; an open-collared white shirt; golden brown hair that had grown longer since Severus had last seen it; and the eyes – those deadly mist-coloured eyes, the ones that could alternately remind him of cold concrete blocks or the finest jewels, all in the span of the same conversation…

“You’re looking at me again,” dream-Remus said to him squarely. “Why do you do that? You know I’m not interested in you. You heard what I said to Sirius that day.”

Severus was startled. “I- I didn’t mean to hear that,” he insisted.

“Or to watch it?” Remus smirked.

“No,” Severus muttered, the colour rising in his dream-self’s face. “Nor to watch it.”

“But you did watch, didn’t you, Snape?” Dream-Remus was moving towards him now, hands on his hips, a swagger to his step. “Did you like it? Did you get hard watching Sirius do that to me?”

“Yes,” whispered Severus.

“What part did you like best?” Remus pressed. “The part where he sucked my cock?”

“Oh gods…”

“Or the part where he flipped me over and fucked me?”

“Both,” panted Severus. “And the part when you finished, the way you screamed… that part.”

“Mmm,” Remus agreed. “Yes, that part was particularly good, wasn’t it? Did you stand out in the hallway beating off while you watched us, Snape?”

“No.”

“No? Why not, Snape? Don’t I make you hard? Don’t you love the sight of my naked body, writhing and groaning like a cheap whore under another man’s cock?”

“Lupin, stop this,” Severus ordered dream-Remus suddenly. “This isn’t helping my situation right now, all right? Just leave it alone.”

“No, Snape, I won’t leave it alone. Not until you admit to me what you want. Not until you tell me – tell yourself – why you’re doing this for me tomorrow. Tell me, Snape: why didn’t you beat off watching me and Sirius?”

“Because the sight of Black’s naked body made me nauseous, all right?”

Remus snorted. “Oh, all right. Did you wish it was you in there instead of him?”

“Of course I did.”

“I want to hear you say it.”

“No.”

“Say it, Snape. Tell me you want me. Stop hiding behind your excuses.”

“That was a long time ago, Lupin. Things are different now.”

“No, they aren’t, Snape. Look inside yourself. They aren’t different at all, are they? Come on, why are you doing this, why are you saving me? Why are you saving me, Snape?”

“Because I’m fucking in love with you, you great sodding prat! Of course I wished it was me fucking you that day; of course I wished it was my cock hammering you into that mattress so hard you couldn’t walk for days! Of course I wished it was my tongue laving your every surface, taking your cock in my mouth and tasting every inch of you! He doesn’t deserve you, and if you look deep inside, I think you know that. But no, you won’t do that, will you? I’m going to have to sit by and watch you throw away your life with a great git like him, aren’t I? When you could have been with me, could have had it so much better with me…”

“Do you think I’ll fall in love with you for saving me, Snape?” dream-Remus continued. “Is that what this rescue mission is about?”

“No.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes. You will never even know what happened, if I can help it. I don’t need your love, Lupin, and I don’t need your fucking pity. If you don’t mind, I’ve got my own neck to save now; I’m done with yours.”

“All right, Snape, I’m going. But before I do, let me just say… thank you. I may never know for certain exactly what it is you’ve done for me, but I’ll be able to sense it. And I’ll be grateful to you, even if I don’t know why.”

“Go, Lupin, please just go.”

“Snape?”

“What?”

“Be careful, all right? Just… be careful now.”

The image of Remus swirled around in Severus’s head for a moment, greys and whites and blacks coming together, and then in an instant, he was gone. Severus rolled over in his bed and fell into a deep, dreamless slumber – the last restful sleep he would have for months.


To be concluded…

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Author’s Notes:

1. The quotation after Snape decides to join the Death Eaters is, of course, from Machiavelli’s The Prince.

2. I fully realise that Snape sounds an awful lot like Princess Leia when calling for Dumbledore across the distance-Legilimency channel. Apologies to any offended Star Wars fans.