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The Truth Will Out	By : BunnyBopper Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Snape/Remus Views: 5655 -:- Recommendations : 2 -:- Currently Reading : 2
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor the characters from it. I do not make any money from writing this story.

Chapter List
- 9
- 10
Today might be the quietest day in Hogwarts’ history. It's certainly the quietest Remus has ever known it. Although he's spent most of the day holed up in his office, the fact that he hasn't seen a soul since breakfast is unusual. It being a Saturday doesn't accounts for this—even when there are no classes to teach, Remus usually has several students knocking on his door throughout the day, asking for extra help on this or an extension on that. He doesn't mind the interruptions; the fact that he's always available to his students is a source of pride for Remus, even if it can be a tad draining.
He didn't even mind the time when two stern-looking Seventh Years barged their way inside his office expressing their concerns that his Grindylow wasn't getting enough exercise and insisting that Remus allow them to take it out into the lake for a few laps. And even though said Grindylow was due to be released the following week, Remus had granted their wish — with the deal that he would give the pair of them Outstandings at the end of the year if the thing didn’t drown them both in under two minutes. They hadn’t been so keen after that.
But he would no doubt need to make similar offers in future, judging by the performance of his pupils this week. Most of them have spent his classes staring dreamily out of the window, no doubt imagining this very day — the start of Hogsmeade Weekend.
Remus smiles to himself as he turns a page of his book, remembering how little he his friends used to achieve academically in the run-up to these special outings. Even though his own teenage experiences of Hogsmeade were rather anticlimactic, Remus has to admit he’s enjoyed soaking up some of the second-hand excitement these past few days. Not enough to actually tag along, mind you. He doesn't need to watch his colleagues getting steadily sloshed in The Three Broomsticks or hear the children daring each other to approach the Shrieking Shack. He's had enough of that place to last a lifetime. And considering he was the one doing the 'shrieking' all along, who could blame him?
With almost the entire student body gone and his lesson plans (shockingly) up-to-date, Remus has found himself awarded with the most luxurious gift he could imagine—free time. And yet, he has also found himself unable to relax and enjoy the book in front of him. There's nothing wrong with the book itself. On the contrary, he’s been looking forward to finally getting around to reading the Biography of Uric the Oddball for ages now, but his thoughts have been straying from the words printed on each of the twenty-two and a half pages it’s taken him almost two hours to struggle through.
Ever since Severus succeeded in giving Remus the finger fucking of his life without so much as setting foot in his quarters, let alone getting into bed with him, Remus' thoughts have been turning to it every spare moment he got. Even if one took out the fact that there'd obviously been some strange, sexual mind-magic at play, the experience was unlike anything Remus had ever known before and now that his body was aware it was capable of such incredible sensation, it ached to feel it again.
But there’s something Remus aches for even more. The moment the last wave had receded and that mind-blowing pleasure had just begun to threaten to spill over into pain, the spell — or whatever it was — had vanished, taking all traces of Severus along with it. At this realisation, Remus had let out a final dry sob of desperation and covered his face with his hands.
As grateful as he had been to Severus for finally being granted some release, Remus—in that vulnerable state — would have given anything just to have been held.
Of course, by the time the cold light of day finally hit him, Remus had managed to lower his expectations of Severus by a considerable margin. This was not some budding romance, the kind that was no doubt blossoming in the charming town of Hogsmeade amongst the numerous pairs of lovesick teenagers strolling through it. This was something else, and Severus had already made it perfectly clear that if Remus wanted it to continue — and m erlin did he want it to continue — he would have to accept it for what it was.
But what was it? And where was it going to end? Because it had to end at some point, didn’t it? And whatever way he thought about it; Remus could not see it doing so happily.
What with the considerable reduction of bodies roaming the castle today, Remus secretly hoped that Severus would want to meet. Just to talk, of course. The way they had done that night over controlled sips of wine. Remus would be much more articulate this time, would ask all the right questions. Perhaps it would be better if they left the castle along with everyone else — there were far too many memories for them both here.
Remus leans back in his chair, letting the forgotten book fall against his chest. He knows he's being unrealistic again, but lets the fantasy carry on regardless. An image of Severus sitting across from him over one of the lace-clad tables in Madam Puddifoots, scowling as bits of heart-shaped confetti land in his hair, pops into his mind, making Remus snort with laughter. So much so that he doesn't realise his fireplace has burst into bright green flames until Severus' voice is echoing around the room.
“Lupin! I want a word!”
Springing up instantly, Remus races over to the fireplace. The elation he feels at being summoned chases away all his doubts. Severus wants it this way and, for whatever reason, Remus wants it too. Just the way it is. For now, that’s enough.
As Remus steps into the coals, feeling the flames tickle his legs, it occurs to him that there is an odd tone to Severus' voice. It always has a strict edge to it whenever they play these games, but this is the first time he's sounded genuinely angry. Remus wonders what he could have possibly done wrong. (And what sort of punishment was in store.)
But before Severus’ office has spun fully into view, Remus gets the feeling that something is very, very off.
Slowly taking shape alongside Severus' stiff, dark form is the shorter, lankier frame of a teenage boy. And not just any teenage boy — this one Remus would recognise anywhere.
Not that there is anything special about that. Half the Wizarding population of Britain likely knows the face of Harry Potter better than their own grandmothers’.
Normally, Remus has all the time in the world for Harry. He’s grown to genuinely care for the boy during the time he has spent teaching him the Patronus charm, the fact that he is James and Lily’s son notwithstanding. But right now, he will not — cannot — look at him.
"You called, Severus?" Remus says, trying extremely hard to keep his voice as mild as possible, feeling as though an Occamy has started trying to claw its way out of his chest.
Severus, too, looks as though he is trying to control his emotions, but he's doing a much poorer job of it than Remus. He's clearly furious about something. Remus has only seen two people provoke this sort of reaction in him before and one of them just so happened to be the father of the boy standing between them.
“I certainly did! I have just asked Potter to empty his pockets.” Severus thrusts a crumpled piece of parchment in Remus’ direction “He was carrying this.”
As Remus stares down at the parchment now in his hands, he doesn’t need to worry about keeping the emotion out of his face any longer. The only thing he’s capable of feeling is confusion. Could this possibly be what he thinks it is? His baffled mind scrambles to come up something that could explain this all away. But it’s no use—much like Harry himself—Remus would recognise The Marauder’s Map anywhere.
Then all those emotions that Remus was rather pleased not to be having hit him all at once and he's surprised he's still standing let alone managing to keep his face so impressively neutral. Memories he's long forgotten he had ever possessed flash through his mind, disappearing as quickly as they came; James, exhausted after a night of transformation and adventure, making an idle remark about how knowing the layout of the castle and its grounds would come in handy; Sirius taking things too far as he always did and insisting they find a way to track the whereabouts of everyone in Hogwarts at all times; Remus putting in a weak objection but ultimately going along with everything the other two said; the four of them scouring the library for the merest hint of whatever magic could help them do this; Peter squealing with glee as they placed this very enchantment designed to insult anyone who pushed too far trying to discover its secrets (with an added personal touch for one Severus Snape—the person who would be most desperate to get their greasy hands on it).
"Well?" Severus' voice sounds muffled and far away like he's speaking to Remus from behind a pane of glass.
Remus just keeps staring at the map. Whatever happens next, he cannot let Severus find out what it truly is. If he does—it's all over.
“ Well ?” Severus repeats, sounding much clearer, if no less enraged. “This parchment is plainly full of Dark Magic. This is supposed to be your area of expertise, Lupin. Where do you imagine Potter got such a thing?”
By this point, Remus has almost forgotten that Harry is there. He shoots him the briefest of glances, hoping it will be enough to communicate the need for him to stay quiet and let Remus do the talking.
“Full of Dark Magic?” Remus echoes. “Do you really think so, Severus?”
Lying was second nature to Remus by now. He has lost count of the number of excuses he has given for his monthly disappearances over the years. The consequences of someone seeing through these lies would be catastrophic—the threat of losing a job or a home, even a friendship constantly hanging over his head. And yet, this time, the stakes had never felt so high.
Somehow, he pulls it off. Calmly suggests that the map— their map—is just a bit of parchment enchanted to insult its reader. It's the same thing he told Filch all those years ago, right before it was confiscated for good. (Or so Remus thought.)
His fiction of it being Zonko’s product is then beautifully solidified by the timely entrance of a puffed-out Ron Weasley who manages to huff out this very thing.
“I-gave-Harry-that-stuff! Bought-it-in-Zonko's-ages-ago...”
“Well!” Remus claps his hands in faux-cheeriness and looks around the room.
Harry looks totally bewildered, eyes widened to fill his round spectacles, Ron looks as though he's had to shift all his focus back onto the intake of oxygen, and Severus looks as though he would like nothing better than to wrap his hands around Remus' throat in the least erotic way possible. And the fact that Remus can't leave without taking the map with him is only going to make that desire stronger.
“That seems to clear that up!” Remus says, ploughing on regardless. “Severus, I’ll just take this back, shall I?” As he tucks the map safely into his robes, Remus can’t help but feel just a little smug about having the upper hand this time. “Harry, Ron, come with me, I need a word about my vampire essay—excuse us, Severus -”

***

The bathwater is scalding, but Remus forces himself to sink into it anyway. He always bathes the night of a transformation. Has done ever since his early twenties. More than a routine, he's grown to treat lathering himself head to toe in soap as a sort of ritual. Not only does it calm him by giving him something to focus on, it also serves as a reminder that he is still human, for now.
The little tub he has in his quarters is too small and there's a worrying crack running along the bottom, but he's never requested an upgrade. Nor has he ever sought out the fabled faculty bathrooms, rumoured to be even more decadent than the Prefect's one of his youth. Remus likes to think this is because he prefers the simple, no-frills life he's grown so used to rather than dwell on the nagging little thought that even this is more than he deserves.
The ritual isn't working tonight. All the bubbles and soap in the world wouldn't make him feel clean after today. Remus sighs and rinses himself off quickly, his mind returning again to what happened after the three of them had left Severus fuming in his office.
He was too hard on Harry. He shouldn't have brought James and Lily into it, no matter how reckless their son had been. Even if keeping the map to himself while a possibly crazed Sirius was on the loose was completely foolhardy.
Remus tries not to think about the fact that he’s doing this exact same thing.
Water spills over the side of the bath as Remus stands, as eager to get out as he had been to get in. As he rubs himself dry with a scratchy towel, he reasons that at least he’s an adult . He knows how to keep things safe. The map is currently locked away in a bedside drawer which he placed five different enchantments on to ensure it stays that way.
But still, it wouldn’t hurt to check on it. Remus pulls a fresh set of robes over his still-damp body before making his way to the bedroom. At least, with the map in hand, he would be able to see Severus coming and prepare himself for the angry tirade he was sure to receive.
Because Severus knows . He knows he knows he knows. He practically said as much.
‘You don’t think it more likely that he got it directly from the manufacturers?’
Why had they been so stupid as to use their nicknames? The ones they proudly shouted at each other any chance they got. Even if they hadn’t been so unbelievably cocky, Severus would recognise the four of them anywhere.
Remus unfurls the map and spreads it out across his unmade bed. “I solemnly swear that I am up to no good.”
The phrase still rolls off his tongue as if he's fifteen again. The magic works instantly. Ink bleeds onto the page, running into every crease and crevice until a perfect layout of Hogwarts—along with the positions of everyone inside it—sits in front of him. It looked a little bare earlier, but now all the students have returned from their day out, the map is buzzing with tiny black dots. Remus searches the list of names for Severus, who surely must be on his way over. Although he must hate Remus more than ever right about now, Severus has shown time and again that regardless of how he personally feels, he would never withhold Remus' Wolfsbane from him. Would he?
Remus scans the map faster. He sees Minerva and Pomona in the staff room, probably absorbed in their weekly game of Bezique; Filius is trekking his way through the Grounds, no doubt making his way back from The Three Broomsticks, his dot wobbling back and forth along the path; Harry and Ron huddled together in the Gryffindor Common Room alongside Hermione Granger, who was likely giving them a piece of her mind regarding the day’s events; Dumbledore tucked safely away in his office. But a dot labelled Severus Snape was nowhere to be seen.
He looks again and again, convinced he must have made a mistake. But no, there was no other explanation. Severus was gone.
- 9
- 10
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The Truth Will Out