The Truth Will Out

BY : BunnyBopper
Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Snape/Remus
Dragon prints: 1711
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor the characters from it. I do not make any money from writing this story.

He knows something is wrong before the potion even touches his lips.  

He hasn’t taken it often, possessing neither the opportunity nor the means to gain access to such an elixir. ( Non-essential , the ministry told him). It’s not until now that he has been deemed worthy. At first, he’d felt only gratitude. Gratitude and overwhelming relief. But over time, a resentment had taken root inside him. Not that he would ever let it show, of course. He would still nod solemnly at the simpering smiles his colleagues would give him every month and pretend not to notice as they inched their chairs just a little further away from him. He would bear it all with a stoic grace, as he always had.  

He hasn’t taken it often, no, but he’s taken it enough. Enough to know that the smoke rising from the goblet is just slightly the wrong shade of cerulean blue. Enough to know that the earthy scent it gives off, like leaves rotting on a forest floor, is just a little too strong. 

Severus Snape stands before him, holding out that silver tray as always, but there’s something different about him too. The fear is still there, evident in the way he positions himself in front of the room’s only exit, being sure to never once turn his back to Remus. Hatred too. It’s written all over his sneering face, in the way he holds himself. Rigid. Defiant. Despite their difference in height Severus always seems to tower over him. So different to the lanky schoolboy he once knew who developed an almost permanent hunch in his effort to make himself as small as possible. How their roles have been reversed.  

He brings the goblet to his mouth, watching Severus all the while. Everything’s the same except his eyes. Something other than contempt glitters behind them. Anticipation?  

Remus stares straight into them as he swallows the potion in one go.  

A clatter fills the air as silver hits stone floor. Other than that, there’s not much drama to the whole thing. No foam comes forth from Remus’ mouth. His hand doesn’t leap up to claw at his own closing throat. Instead, all he feels is a slight dizziness and an overwhelming urge to flop down hard into the chair that has somehow appeared behind him. So, he does. In an instant, he is bound to it.  

His vision swims in front of him but he can make out the exultant smile that covers Severus’ face as he stares down his hooked nose at him. His wand is drawn, still smoking from where black cords of rope sprang forth from it moments before. Cords that are winding themselves ever tighter around his wrists and ankles.  

“What have you done to me?” he groans.  

“Nothing you need to be concerned about provided the blind trust the Headmaster places in you is even slightly justified.” The tip of his wand comes to rest under Remus’ chin and tilts his lolling head upwards. “You shall be feeling your normal self soon,” Severus smirks. “Well, almost.”  

And miraculously he is. All of a sudden, the room comes back into focus and he can sit upright without fighting the urge to vomit. He tugs at his bindings. Once. Twice. Before quickly realising any attempt at struggle was a pointless waste of energy. Energy that he puts into shouting at Snape instead.  

“Just what in Merlin’s name do you think you’re doing?!”  

Severus presses his wand harder into Remus’ neck and brings his leering face in closer. “I’ll be the one to ask questions if you don’t mind. We’ll start with a simple one – are you the werewolf named Remus John Lupin?”  

Remus opens his mouth to spit a few choice profanities at the man, something he wasn’t in the habit of doing but felt the current situation called for it. So, he’s shocked when only a simple ‘yes’ comes out. Severus stands up straight and steps back, not bothering to hide his triumph. It slowly dawns on Remus what’s going on.  

“The Wolfsbane…did you-”  

“Add Veritaserum? Indeed. You are catching on quicker than I’d expected Lupin. And I’m pleased to see you don’t seem to have much resistance to it.”  

“But that’s dangerous is it not?!”  

The smirk disappears from Severus’ face. “There was only a ten percent chance it would stop your heart,” he says, sounding rather disappointed by the odds. “But I thought it was worth the risk if it means catching a murderer.” The excited gleam returns to his eyes as he utters the final word.  

“A murderer? What are you-”  

“How have you been helping Sirius Black into the castle?” Severus interrupts, slamming his hand down on Remus’ desk by way of punctuation.  

“I have not.” Although Remus is fully aware of his innocence, he can’t help but feel a great sense of relief as he hears himself form those words.  

Severus’ black eyes narrow at him but he doesn’t hesitate for long. “Where is Sirius Black hiding?”  

“I don’t know,” Remus says, harsher this time, more confident.  

“Have you had any contact with Sirius Black whatsoever since he was sentenced to life in Azkaban on the fifteenth of November, nineteen eighty-one?” Severus’ voice is rising to betray just a hint of panic.  


Remus catches the brief look of horror that passes over Severus’ face before he turns away, leaning against the desk to compose himself. Remus can only imagine the mental gymnastics he must be performing in order to justify what he has done, to both himself and Dumbledore. He feels a smirk creep across his own face.  

“You’re a fool,” he says to Severus’ back as he watches him run an anxious hand through his own greasy hair. “Are you really so blinded by a schoolboy grudge that you would show such blatant disregard for the law?”  

“That ‘grudge’ is the very thing that defends my actions!” Severus spits, whirling back round to face him and knocking off a pile of unmarked essays and causing them to scatter across the floor in the process. He steps over one, uncaring. “I am one of the few who truly know what you are capable of!”  

“What are you talking about now?”  

In a flash, Severus is upon him. His hands grip tightly onto Remus’ wrists, still bound to the arms of the hard, wooden chair. He brings his snarling face in close. “You know full well. It wouldn’t be the first time the two of you have teamed up now, would it? Just how disappointed were you when that little plot to kill me failed?”  

“I never plotted to kill you.”  

The deadpan words that come out of Remus’ mouth are at odds with the great many emotions he is feeling. But truth potions didn’t care about emotion, only facts. Despite the fact being that he still dreams about that night. Haunted to this day by what might have been.  

Possibly more so than Severus himself, who bears his uneven teeth at him before opening his mouth, probably to call him a filthy liar, but the words die in his throat as he remembers their situation. Remus couldn’t lie even if he wished to. He jerks upward and away from him, still not quite believing what was plainly in front of him.  

“So, it was true then?” he whispers.  

Remus nods, knowing exactly what Severus is referring to. Remembers running down the dungeon’s dank corridor, grasping hold of the gangly boy’s jumper and twisting it around his fist. Remembers the countless apologies. Remembers the fist that came down hard on his jaw in response. Remembers giving up far too quickly.  

They look at each other for several moments. Severus is so lost in his incredulity that he forgets to sneer at him. Remus takes the opportunity to flash a sympathetic smile. A smile that he hopes will be the start of a new understanding between them.  

Remus drops his gaze down to the cords that continue to bite into his wrists. Severus follows it, looking mortified.  

“I, err, imagine you want me to untie you?” he asks.  

It’s hard to tell which of the two is more shocked when Remus answers: 


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