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You Will Not Kiss Me	By : Prosperosdaughter Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Snape/Remus Views: 22836 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 2
Disclaimer: JK Rowling & her associates own the Harry Potter universe and I make no money from my stories.

Chapter List
- 99
- 100
- 101
Direct quotes from Chapter 24-25, 27-29 of HBP are in bold and © J.K. Rowling

Chapter 100: The Flight of the Prince

Snape stood over Malfoy and glowered at the boy's attempted sneer, seething himself that Malfoy and Potter's souls were given such high regard, and yet his was not.

"Don't lie to me, Draco," Snape growled.

"Why do you believe a stupid ghost over me?" the boy spat.

"Don't be so childish. You tried to use an Unforgivable Curse! Don't you realise, you could end up in Azkaban - just like your father?"

"You'd love that, wouldn't you? Then you could take all the glory ..."

"Be quiet!" Snape barked, lowering over Malfoy now. "Don't you think I have ample opportunity to do the deed, every single day?" He drew away from Malfoy, irritated by the boy's intransigence. Idiot! "Let me assist you! Look what happened to you today ..."

"Yes! What happened is saint bloody Potter gets away with Dark curses! I could have been scarred for life!"

"So you'd better thank your lucky stars, Draco, that I was there to save your wretched hide! Do not doubt that you could have died!" snarled Snape. "However Dark the curse Potter used was, it wasn't an Unforgivable and you would do well to remember that." Snape stood away from the bed as Malfoy edged away from him.

"Are you ... are you going to report me?" Malfoy's pale eyes glittered with fear.

"I have sworn to your mother to protect you, Draco. But -" Snape pointed at Draco warningly, "do not try my patience any further."

With one final glare, Snape turned and strode away from the boy, to meet with Minerva as Potter's Head of House.

oooOOOooo

Twice that week Dumbledore had left the school on his missions. He still did not confide the purpose of his absences to Snape or even Minerva, but each time Dumbledore ensured that every secret passageway out of the school was covered and that there were powerful enchantments on every entrance into the castle. All the Heads of House were told, and two would take it in turns with the other two to patrol if Dumbledore's absences were at night.

Before breakfast on the day after his second absence, Dumbledore visited Snape in his office.

"How are your ... ah ... investigations?" asked Snape, moving his latest letter from Alphard to the pile of notes of Lycanthropy, without casting the spell to conceal it.

"Bearing fruit, I believe," answered Dumbledore, cryptically. He picked up Alphard's letter, keen eyes flicking over it.

"May I be so bold to suggest, Severus, that these papers ..."

"What of them?" snapped Snape, snatching the parchment form Dumbledore's hand.

Dumbledore looked over his glasses at Snape, admonishing him in silence. "I was going to say that it might be wise to place these papers – so very revealing of your true allegiance – in a place of safety. Be sure you are ready when the time comes. I doubt we will be able to plan it."

Snape scowled at Dumbledore, who smiled sympathetically, and then offered to walk with Snape to the Great Hall for breakfast.

Of course, Dumbledore was right, but even the suggestion was so heavy with consequences. Dumbledore meant that once Snape had killed him, Snape would have no time to hide his researches and his treasures. Whether Snape was arrested or escaped after the deed, Aurors would search his quarters, his office and probably his house at Spinner's End. If these papers were found, or any other of a number of mementoes Snape had, one wrong word to the wrong person would destroy years of careful planning.

After breakfast, he spent the next few hours gathering all his research papers, his letters from Lupin, those from Alphard, the casket that had contained their bonding circlets, the small photograph album he had found at Spinner's End, even the blanket that Lupin used in his wolf form. He picked up the blanket in both hands and held it to his nose. The smell of the transformed wolf was still strong, but he knew it would fade in time. He cast a charm on it to preserve it, like a precious perfume. Then, he carefully placed them all in his old school trunk.

He took his collection to the bedside wall. Dumbledore had created a compartment in the stone of the castle, as only the Headmaster could. Only Dumbledore and Snape knew the spell to open the compartment. Snape opened it now, and hid his treasures next to the real sword of Gryffindor.

Whenever he retrieved some of the researches to continue them, he was always careful to replace them. Each night, he retrieved a few of Lupin's letters to read to himself before bed, to help himself relax after visiting with the Dark Lord in the evening.

His collection of letters from Lupin was growing – each letter read and re-read, memorised and called to mind whenever the services required of him at Malfoy Manor drained him emotionally. He would always report whatever had happened to Dumbledore, of course, but Dumbledore could not give him the solace that Lupin had.

Snape used to tell Lupin of the terrible things that happened when he attended on the Dark Lord. He would confess all that was capable of confession. Lupin would caress Snape as he told Lupin all the horrifying things he did or he saw. Lupin would whisper endearments to him and soothe his troubled soul. He would kiss Snape gently and tell him he was working for the Light. Lupin had showed Snape that he was understood, even if he couldn't divulge all the detail. Lupin had made him feel so loved, so worthwhile, and he had felt fortified to face what had to be faced.

It was all he needed at that time to lighten his increasingly oppressive load. It was everything he wanted now and he missed it more and more each day.

oooOOOooo

This Saturday, he retrieved the most recent letters and notes from Alphard and took them to his office. It was a fine, late spring day. Snape reminisced that it was the type of sunny day that always put a spring in Lupin's step, making him drag Snape outdoors to eat or just to walk.

Simple pleasures, now denied.

Today, he was to oversee Potter's detention instead. He had given it a great deal of thought, wondering how to impress upon the Chosen One that school boy mistakes, large or small, could last a lifetime.

Filch had provided the answer quite by chance at the last staff meeting, and Snape unlocked his office just as Filch joined him, huffing and puffing, as he pushed a trolley filled with many cobwebbed boxes upon which sat Mrs. Norris. Snape directed Filch to pile them on a table where Potter would sit.

He dismissed Filch and then went through the boxes until he found the years of his own education, boxes one thousand and twelve to one thousand and fifty-six, and placed them on the top. He knew exactly what would be found easily. He flicked through and found what he was looking for within seconds. His lip curled in disdain just as Potter knocked on his office door.

He set Potter to work copying out the crimes and punishments of bygone students afresh and, making sure that they were in alphabetical order, replacing them in the boxes without magic. It was mind-numbing, and he knew the many references Potter would find to his father and Black would bother him. But that was the point, wasn't it?

Potter forgotten, Snape turned his attention to the letters from Alphard he had brought with him.

Dear Friend,

I hope this letter finds you both well. I have not heard from you for weeks. I confess I am concerned. Please write so we know that all is well ...

There had been four letters that Snape had not yet answered, including their usual exchange of full moon information. Snape had no full moon information to impart but he couldn't bring himself to divulge this to Alphard.

Alphard set out his latest results with Snape's variations on their preparations with his usual efficiency. Then, he carried on to tell Snape how he, Idris and Angharad fared, and the pack in general. He even told Snape about how Stacy was learning to control his magic now that he had learnt to control and harness the strength of the wolf within. Lupin would be so interested to learn more about Stacy's unique condition: the damaged man, but an undamaged wolf. Snape would ask on his behalf. Perhaps, one day, he would be able to share the news.

But other than this, Snape didn't really know how he would answer. He certainly couldn't tell Alphard, as well-meaning as Alphard was, that Snape and Lupin had been forced into a separation. He told himself to keep his response business-like. Express the solicitations that he knew Lupin would and then move swiftly on to business: it was the only way.

Response penned, he spread out the latest trials from the elderly werewolves in Idris's pack and began to collate Alphard's results with his further improvements.

Working on the werewolf medications made him feel closer to Lupin, and he soon lost track of time as worked on the various minor permutations that Alphard was setting out for him, each permutation triggering ideas as Snape called on his encyclopaedic knowledge of Potion ingredient reactions and interactions.

Before he knew it, he had whole scrolls full of further notes and annotations and only a low growl of his stomach told him it was past lunchtime. He looked up to see Potter, sullen and desultory, still copying out the cards. It was enough for today: Snape dismissed the boy and then set about tidying up his own papers to lock away.

He recalled how he had taunted the boy: "It must be such a comfort to think that, though they are gone, a record of their great achievements remains ..." If Lupin had heard it, Snape knew he would have admonished Snape – not nastily or angrily. Just carefully, trying to understand Snape and help him to conquer his demons.

Snape thought of how well Lupin bounded his temper. How Snape's sarcasm and eye-rolling would be met with gentle chiding or soft humour; his snapping and tart remarks met with gentle acceptance which, in turn, would make Snape think twice. Just being loved by Lupin made him feel he had worth. Every day it was denied to him made him feel worth less than the day before.

oooOOOooo

The month of May moved inexorably on.

Snape taught; he oversaw more pointless detentions of dunderheads; he experimented with werewolf potions; he brewed Lupin's Wolfsbane; he brewed Post-Cruciatus and Legilimency Potions in the largest cauldrons he had; he made spurious notes on his Muggle-murdering poisons; and he attended upon the Dark Lord in the evenings, ever hopeful that the meetings would be for information and not for torture. Seldom were his hopes fulfilled.

Dumbledore's absences were frequent, but what little he told Snape seemed to be optimistic. Occasionally, members of the Order would supplement the Heads of House on patrol during these absences, but it was always either Moody or Shacklebolt or William Weasley; never Lupin. When Snape thought about it, it was never Tonks either.

Snape wondered how often Lupin saw her. There was no way he could know now he didn't attend Order meetings and when Lupin wrote, he only wrote of his feelings for Snape.

Lupin's letters were always full of love and longing and, as the moon waxed full, always encouraging and wondering when they would see each other. Snape never doubted that he was missed.

That was all he needed, surely?

But each letter was a confirmation of absence: a parchment instead of an embrace; ink instead of a kiss; a revealing spell instead of the sight and touch of his beloved's body; words of love instead of love itself.

Snape yearned.

oooOOOooo

The dream is dark. It is erotic. He is surrounded by a dark crimson glow, and he is swirling in the air, levitating as warm zephyrs lightly buffet all of his naked body. His back arches and his neck extends, thrown back in ecstasy as he slowly writhes. His skin is being tantalised. He is thrilled by the touch of fingers, palms of hands, a tongue, lips and teeth playing on his skin. Down the tendons of his neck, on his Adam's apple, down his sides, down his breast bone, to his navel, circling down to his pubic hair, tracing along his too-hard erection, into the sensitive slit at the top and around and under to his testicles, to his most sensitive bite, playing on it until it reaches his opening and plays inside pulsing on that bundle of nerves that makes him cry out in an agony of ecstasy.

Oh, he has had this dream before! Even in sleep, his mind and body recognised the dream and welcomed it.

His body begins to buck and snap in mid-air in remembrance but also in magnified sensations of rapture. He strokes the beloved face that hovers over him, of the man whose every touch thrills him to the core. He tells Remus he wants him, he needs him, he begs for him, he cries out for him. He stretches out his hands to stroke his lover's body, knowing every curve, every hard plane, every scar and flaw, and he needs it. He seems to fall into the darkly blue eyes of Remus, bathing in his love even as Remus enters him and his orgasm explodes and exquisitely shatters his body like glass.

Snape's eyes flew open, gasping for breath, his stomach covered in his forceful ejaculation. Wolf dreams! He had forgotten how powerful they were. Lupin had sent them, just as he had from Egypt - he thought of Snape still as his lover! Snape moaned aloud, and then curled into himself to try to remember all the sensations.

After so many nights without proper sleep, not daring to dream, this was the first night he managed to sleep, mind and body somehow rested by his husband's distant attention.

oooOOOooo

The May full moon felt as desperately sad and lonely as the last. Tippy brought him news and fervent letters, and took news and letters in return, but these didn't do more than take the edge off the pain Snape felt, and Snape only had to read Lupin's letters to feel Lupin's pain and confusion getting ever greater.

Snape knew Dumbledore had asked it of him and his geas obliged him to obey, but even as May turned to June, the separation was becoming harder to bear, even though Snape accepted every wolf dream Lupin sent to him. Sexual release was not enough, not for either of them.

oooOOOooo

"Do you need to be away so frequently?" Snape asked when he'd finished reporting on the boasting of the Death Eaters of their latest Imperius conquests at the Ministry.

"It has been like a jigsaw puzzle. Did you have jigsaw puzzles when you were a child, Severus?"

Snape hiked an eyebrow impatiently. "Of course."

"It takes patience and logic, of which I have an abundance." Snape rolled his eyes, and Dumbledore paced the floor, as he so often did. "I have been trying to trace a place, from fragments I heard nearly sixty years ago. That is where I have been going."

"How can you trace a place from so little?"

"The glimpse of a postcard, the names of two children who were there, tracking them down and hoping they will co-operate." Dumbledore looked serious. "That they will allow me to assist in their recollection," he said softly. Snape frowned.

"This place? Is it so important to what you're doing?"

Dumbledore nodded.

"Oh yes." Dumbledore stood in front of the open cabinet that housed his Pensieve with its racks of many shapes and sizes of phial, each containing a swirl of silvery blue memory. "It is vital."

oooOOOooo

Snape pressed himself against the door of Lucius's study to hear better.

"I'm telling you, he sneaks out to see his paramour!" hissed Bellatrix. "It's disgusting and loathsome!"

Snape's blood froze. Had they been discovered?

"Will you tell the Dark Lord?" asked Yaxley. "You have to be right. If you accuse him wrongly ..."

"I know! I know! They meet at the weekends. I will reveal his treachery this weekend - to the Dark Lord himself!"

Snape slipped quietly away. It could not be him. He had not seen Lupin for months – but someone had trespassed on Bellatrix's distorted sense of propriety and, whoever it might be, Snape pitied him and his lover.

oooOOOooo

Lupin's letters, still full of longing, were becoming demanding as well. Snape couldn't blame him: his plan to manoeuvre Lupin into relying on Tonks clearly wasn't working. Part of him was profoundly grateful that he wasn't so easily replaced, but how was he to keep Lupin safe if he gave in to their mutual need for each other.

Snape read the last paragraph in Lupin's latest letter again. He could feel the heat in it, the growing anger of the wolf denied.

Why don't you come to Order meetings? Albus fobs me off when I ask why, and tells me you can't be seen at school. You surely can't want to be with them so often? My love, please tell me, you don't go there every night! Please, I need to see you. I need you. Call me with the mirror. Do it soon.

With each letter as they moved towards the June full moon, bitterness began to seep through the confusion and loneliness.

oooOOOooo

The dream is dark. It is erotic and yet it is dangerous. He is surrounded by a dark crimson glow, and he is swirling in the air, levitating as warm zephyrs lightly buffet all of his naked body. His back arches and his neck extends, as strong hands fist through his hair and pull on it harshly. He slowly writhes as his already-sensitive skin is bitten, gently at first, but then painfully, soft touches become hard, caresses become grasps, harsh and spiteful. The bite is found and the sharp teeth re-make it greedily. The Claim suffuses through him and his body bucks and snaps to the Claim's demands. It is rapture, but pain trims the edges of his ecstasy. He reaches out to stroke the beloved face of Remus that hovers over him, his eyes dark with desire but also with anger, his expression lascivious and demanding, his every touch rapacious. Remus tells him that he wants him, he needs him, he belongs to Remus and he will never let go. Severus begs for him, he cries out for him and yields to every cruel grasp and demand Remus makes on his body, no matter how painful, no matter how unkind. He needs it, he wants it. Remus enters him forcefully and his body shatters in bloody shards of agony and ecstasy.

Snape sat bolt upright, gasping for breath, his body trembling from the exertions of the wolf dream. He even felt the throb in his lower body as if Lupin had been here and taken him in the harsh manner of the full moon. It was the strongest dream yet and, for the first time, it had been aggressive. Snape knew then: Lupin was being pushed too far.

oooOOOooo

Snape had marked all the homework parchments, and he pulled the parchment of his latest fabricated experiments for the poison. He always had to have these updated in case the Dark Lord called for a progress report. It was dull work, but at least it was not as pointless as that which Potter was currently doing.

Snape's eyes flicked up from his desk and saw Potter lost in a daydream of his own. Snape scowled. No doubt, the boy was thinking of his new girlfriend. For Merlin's sake, it was even the talk of the staff room: Slughorn and Minerva wittered about it like a pair of clucking hens!

"Doubtless, you wish you could enjoy the fine weather, Potter," said Snape, silkily. "However, the more you dawdle, the longer you will stay here. I suggest you work assiduously if you want to take advantage of the varied opportunities this weather offers."

"But sir ..." whined Potter, indignantly.

"Whether it's this term, or the next, you will finish these boxes," said Snape, repressively.

Snape sneered at Potter's look of horror at the threat. A muscle jumped in Snape's jaw. Even limited time with Lupin would be a feast to him right now.

oooOOOooo

By the June full moon, it wasn't just the wolf dreams that spoke of Lupin's distress and impotent aggression, even his letters were now unguarded. Snape could even see it in the pressure of the nib of the quill, the savage upstroke of the penmanship. The wolf in Lupin was stirring in anger ever earlier, as the very first lines of the latest letter were testament.

My love. Are you my love anymore? Why don't you speak to me? What I have I done? What have you done? Is the company of Death Eaters preferable to mine? Speak to me. If you love me, speak to me.

Holding his head his hands, he read Lupin's note again. Lupin's distress was so obvious and it mirrored Snape's own. He didn't blame Lupin – he blamed himself. He had handled it badly.

How did a man like Lupin go from something so emotionally and physically demonstrative and passionate as they were - to nothing? To just dreams? How could Snape expect it of him? If Snape couldn't abide it, how could Lupin?

Snape blinked rapidly, and touched his inside robe pocket and then slowly withdrew the mirror. He placed it on top of the letter. Snape looked at the crescent moon outside, and decided. Tonight - once Dumbledore had returned from his latest mission – Snape would call Lupin tonight. They would arrange to meet and Snape would tell him the truth of their separation: that it was necessary to keep Lupin safe, and then ... then ... Snape didn't know what Lupin would do, how he would react – but at least he would have as much of the truth as Snape could tell him.

Once Snape had resolved, he shivered – partly in anticipation of seeing Lupin once more, partly in fear of Lupin's reaction. Snape didn't believe Lupin would understand, but at least he would no longer be confused and in pain.

And Snape wanted to see him so very badly.

Snape cast the charm to conceal Lupin's writing once more, and carefully placed it in his robe to be locked away later. Then he went back to the experiment he had been conducting before Tippy had delivered the letter.

He recommenced the delicate brew based on the latest potion calculations Alphard had sent him. He peered at the different pipettes along the brewing line, watching how the changes in colour and consistency fulfilled his expectation of the process and the estimates he had made until the distilled essence dripped slowly into the final phial.

Not a cure, but a possible decelerant, that is what he and Alphard hoped for! He might not be able to be with Lupin, but he still hoped to ease Lupin's physical suffering.

It was nearly midnight, just as Snape perched on the edge of his high stool to record his findings, he heard shouting from the corridor. He looked up quickly just as Filius burst his way in Snape's office.

"Severus! Death Eaters in the castle!"

"What?" Snape snatched up his wand. No! No! It couldn't be! His mind shrieked at him. Not now!

"You have to come back with me and help!" Filius shouted. Snape couldn't risk duelling Filius once they got to the fighting. Silently, Snape cast Stupefy! and Filius fell with a loud thump as his head caught the side of the stool, but Snape didn't dare stop to check him and came hurtling out of his room where he saw to his horror Granger and Lovegood standing in the corridor.

'Professor Flitwick has collapsed,' he said, with as much control as he could muster. 'Take care of him while I help fight the Death Eaters -'

With that he ran, up from the dungeons, running up the marble staircase, his black robes billowing behind him, pulling his wand from under his cloak as he ascended, and he found the place where they were all fighting ...

All.

Including Lupin.

His heart seized painfully in his chest. If this is the time – if it has to be today, why does Remus have to be here?

It seemed as if time stood still as the horror of Lupin being in this place at this time washed over him. This was not how he had wanted to see Lupin again.

Breaking the spell of horror, he saw, even in the dark, that Gibbon was down, as was Longbottom and William Weasley. Curses were flying everywhere . Rowle was firing off jinxes all over the place, they were bouncing off the walls and barely missing the fighters.

Snape ran towards them, and towards the Tower where he had seen the Carrow twins go. He saw Lupin, who froze when he saw Snape and mouthed his name questioningly, his blue eyes alert and bright with adrenaline. Snape couldn't bear to look at him, not if what he feared would happen transpired tonight.

He ran up the stairs, feeling the reverberation of a Blocking Spell that could only be bypassed by those with the Dark Mark, taking the stairs two and three at a time, his heart pounding against his rib cage, begging fate and all that was holy that it not happen with Lupin here. Dear God, please no!

As he got to the door, he heard Alecto Carrow screech, "Draco, do it, or stand aside so one of us -'

Snape's heart sank and his stomach began to roil.

It was time.

Snape swiped his wand at that precise moment so the door to the ramparts burst open. Snape stood there with his wand clutched in his hand as his black eyes swept the scene, from Dumbledore slumped against the wall, clearly desperately unwell, to the four Death Eaters, including the werewolf, and Malfoy.

'We've got a problem, Snape,' said Amycus, whose eyes and wand were fixed alike upon Dumbledore, 'the boy doesn't seem able -'

But then he heard somebody else speak his name, quite softly, quietly. A plea.

'Severus ...'

Snape said nothing. What could be said as he felt his skin crawl all over his body? His black eyes locked with the cerulean blue, bright with sickness, but sharp in their plea to him.

Snape's heart still beat too fast, but there was no choice now. He could not run from it. 'If not you, then who?' Dumbledore's remembered words swirled in his mind.

He walked forwards and pushed the boy whose soul was deemed more important than his own roughly out of the way. The Death Eaters fell back without a word. Even Greyback seemed cowed by his intensity.

Snape gazed for a moment at Dumbledore. It was so much harder than he thought – just to raise his wand and say those two words he'd said more than once. He had vowed – he must. If not you, then who?

But Remus is here! How Lupin would despise him if he was here when Snape killed Dumbledore! The pain in his chest was almost unbearable, the rush of blood in his ears deafening him. But that's what Dumbledore wanted, wasn't it? And this act would seal the end of their relationship. Damn you, Albus! he wanted to scream. He could kill him for that alone!

'Severus ... please ...'

Dumbledore's voice was small. Dumbledore, who had spent so many hours counselling Snape when he had first turned from the Dark Lord; who had listened to all his confessions and promised him there would be redemption – that there would be hope – that Snape was worthwhile. Snape gritted his teeth, as he thought of Greyback or the Carrows torturing Dumbledore before killing him. He felt revulsion and hatred rise in his chest.

He would not let them touch Dumbledore.

If not you, then who?

He resolved and steeled his nerve.

Snape raised his wand and pointed it directly at Dumbledore.

'Avada Kedavra!'

A jet of green light shot from the end of Snape's wand and hit Dumbledore squarely in the chest. Dumbledore was blasted into the air: for a split second he seemed to hang suspended beneath the shining skull, and then he fell slowly backwards, over the battlements and out of sight.

Snape's jaw worked. He would never get to explain to Lupin now. Nothing would ever be right again. But he had to act!

'Out of here, quickly,' snapped Snape.

He seized Malfoy by the scruff of the neck and forced him through the door ahead of the rest; Greyback and the squat brother and sister followed, both panting excitedly. They all ran through the door, running down the spiral staircase.

Rowle (the dunderhead) fired off a hex that caused half the ceiling to fall in, and also broke the curse blocking the stairs. Snape heard the fighters running forwards, knowing Lupin would be amongst them, and then Snape and the boy emerged out of the dust. None of the fighters attacked them, although he saw Lupin and Minerva take on two of the Death Eaters. He wanted to stay and fight by Lupin's side, but he had to carry on – he had to.

He pushed Malfoy on through dimly lit corridor full of dust. Greyback had joined the others in fighting.

'It's over, time to go!' shouted Snape, hoping to draw the Death Eaters away from Lupin and he strode through the corridors, his hands still wrapped in Malfoy's collar as he pulled the boy along who was almost rigid with fear.

As they reached the main doors, Snape blasted them open and a shard of oak smashed into the Gryffindor hour glass. Malfoy didn't shield himself in time and he fell as the flying glass cut him, leaving smears of blood on the flagstones. Snape grabbed him back onto his feet and pulled him along out into the grounds, closely followed by Rowle. Doubtless, the twins and Greyback would follow.

Even as Malfoy and Snape began to run towards the boundary, Rowle started aiming curse after curse at Hagrid. Snape knew that Hagrid's immense strength, and the toughened skin he had inherited from his giantess mother, would protect him so he and Malfoy kept running; they would soon be beyond the gates, able to Disapparate –

Then Snape heard Potter yell, 'Stupefy!'and a jet of red light soared past Snape's head; Snape shouted, 'Run, Draco!' and turned, disbelieving, to see Potter behind him; twenty yards apart, he and Potter looked at each other before raising their wands simultaneously.

'Cruc-'

But Snape parried the curse easily, knocking Potter backwards off his feet before he could complete it; Potter rolled over and scrambled back up again as the huge Death Eater behind him yelled, 'Incendio!' and ignited Hagrid's house.

'Cru-' yelled Potter for the second time, aiming for Snape again, but Snape blocked the spell again, his jaw working in his anger and distress.

'No Unforgivable Curses from you, Potter!' he shouted over the rushing of the flames, Hagrid's yells and the wild yelping of the trapped Fang. 'You haven't got the nerve or the ability -'

'Incarc-' Potter roared, but Snape deflected the spell with an easy flick of his arm. Despite all Snape's lessons, the boy had learnt nothing!

'Fight back!' Potter screamed at him. 'Fight back, you cowardly -'

'Coward, did you call me, Potter?' shouted Snape. 'Your father would never attack me unless it was four on one, what would you call him, I wonder?'

'Stupe-'

'Blocked again, and again, and again until you learn to keep your mouth shut and your mind closed, Potter!' sneered Snape, deflecting the curse once more. 'Now, come!' he shouted to the huge Death Eater behind the boy. 'It is time to be gone, before the Ministry turns up -'

'Impedi-'

But before Potter could finish the jinx, he was hit by Amycus Carrow's Cruciatus and he keeled over in the grass –

'No!' roared Snape. 'Have you forgotten our orders? Potter belongs to the Dark Lord – we are to leave him! Go! Go!'

The Carrows and Rowle obeyed, running towards the gates. Snape heard Potter utter an inarticulate yell of rage: in that instant, he pushed himself to his feet again and staggered blindly towards Snape, his hatred etched in his young features: a hatred Snape had seen on those self-same features so many times when he was young.

'Sectum-'

Snape flicked his wand and the curse was easily repelled yet again, but Potter was mere feet away now and Snape's impotent rage boiled over that this brat, this whelp of Potter's, thought he had the right or even the remotest talent to hunt Snape down – as if he, Potter, had lost more than Snape had this night – Snape who had lost everything: his lover, his father figure, even his reputation – everything.

He saw clearly the boy mustering all his powers of concentration, and read easily the formation of Levi-

'No, Potter!'screamed Snape, his mind now in a turmoil, that that spell, the spell that had been the start of his humiliation at the Black Lake and the pivotal point of that final irrevocable destruction of his friendship.

He cast a violent Repulsion Jinx against the boy. There was a loud BANG and the boy was soaring backwards, hitting the ground hard again, and this time his wand flew out of his hand. Hagrid was yelling and Fang howling as Snape closed in and looked down on him where he lay. Snape's pale face, illuminated by the flaming cabin, was suffused with pain, grief and hatred. Hatred of the father who cast Snape's spells to humiliate him; hatred of the son for stealing them and doing to the same – both of whom Dumbledore had cared more for than he cared for Snape. It all coalesced in his mind, cutting him deeper than his overwhelming grief could bear.

'You dare use my own spells against me, Potter? It was I who invented them – I, the Half-Blood Prince! And you'd turn my inventions on me, like your filthy father, would you? I don't think so ... no!'

The brat dived for his wand; Snape shot a hex at it and it flew feet away into the darkness and out of sight.

'Kill me, then,' panted the boy. 'Kill me like you killed him, you coward -'

'DON'T -' screamed Snape, his grief for Lupin – for Dumbledore – for Lily - tearing at him, feeling as if his heart and soul had been flayed raw – and all to protect this boy and his fate, '- CALL ME COWARD!'

In his grief, Snape slashed at the air with a hard Whipping Curse across Potter's face, slamming him backwards into the ground. Snape moved forward, blinded with rage now, but suddenly there was a mighty rush of wings above him and Buckbeak flew at Snape, who staggered backwards as the razor-sharp claws slashed at him and caught him across the chest, as the creature screeched its rage. Snape stumbled backwards, brought back from the brink of madness and he ran as hard as he could, the enormous beast flapping behind him. He made the gates just as the beast bore down on him, and turned into his Apparition, tears streaming down his face.

oooOOOooo

Snape staggered and grounded himself, the pain of the slashes of the beast's talons to his shoulder and chest taking his breath away. He breathed in deeply to control himself. At least the injury would cover the real reason for his distress and he clasped his arm across the injury to ensure it was noticed. As he passed through the enchanted barrier, he heard whooping and cackling of celebration coming from the open doors of the manor itself as the other preceded him.

As he passed through the doors, he saw Narcissa holding Draco, her eyes bright with tears of gratitude finding his, and then nodding as he passed. Bellatrix stood, her dark eyes full of malice and resentment. The Carrows bragged about the battle to her and some of the others. Greyback and Rowle chimed in with their parts, telling of Gibbon's glorious death.

The Dark Lord stood at the furthest point in the room, his crimson eyes alight with anticipation, his face pulled grotesquely apart in the widest of smiles as Snape approached. The Dark Lord swept towards him, and Snape knelt. The Dark Lord placed his hand on Snape's head in a parody of benediction.

"You have done well, my servant."

"My Lord," Snape said, quietly, keeping his eyes to the floor, his Occlusion gradually falling back into place as he tried to regain his composure.

"This injury?" The Dark Lord pointed to Snape's torn robe with the tip of his wand.

"One of Hagrid's beasts, my Lord. A Hippogriff."

"An attack Hippogriff. How novel. Hagrid and his inappropriate pets. Nothing ever changes." The assembled Death Eaters laughed sycophantically. The Dark Lord's head turned in a serpentine manner as he loomed over Snape, his face ever closer.

"How does it feel, Severus?" His voice lingered sibilantly. "After all these years ... how does it feel to be liberated from the old fool and his notions of love?"

Snape held out his hand that still shook. "My body still rushes with adrenaline, my Lord."

"The thrill of the kill, Severus," the Dark Lord's high voice sang. "The thrill of the kill."

He swept away and turned to face Snape once more. "You are my most trusted servant, Severus. Narcissa – tend his injury. Then ... we must celebrate!"

oooOOOooo

In the study, Snape shrugged his robe off one shoulder, careful to keep the rest on to cover the Claiming bite at least. The slashes down his shoulder and chest had sliced through one of the bites on his chest. Narcissa sensed his reluctance to undress further and deftly cut away the shirt instead of asking him to undress fully.

Without speaking, she cleansed the wound and then knitted it with her wand. Snape took the dittany from her.

"I can finish this," he said quietly. "Would you have a spare shirt and robe?"

"Of course, Severus."

As Narcissa summoned a house-elf, Snape applied the dittany liberally but quickly so that Narcissa could not see the bite restored. He pulled his torn robe back over his shoulder.

"You succeeded, Severus," said Narcissa, as she handed over an expensive shirt of pure silk, undoubtedly her husband's.

Snape nodded and transfigured the shirt to be smaller and removed the ruffles with quick, efficient swishes of his wand.

"Yes, it is done. At last." He managed a small, tight smile and then turned from her to remove his torn and blood-soaked robe and shirt, cast a Cleaning Charm over himself and slipped on the clean shirt. Then he transfigured the fine robe, embroidered with finest silver threads to a smaller size and pulled that on too.

His hands still trembled as he transferred his possessions to the pockets of the replacement robe. He located a Calming Draught and also a Sobriety Potion. He knew there would be drinking. Tonight of all nights, he could not allow himself the oblivion of inebriation even though he desired oblivion above all things. He sipped from both.

"You fulfilled your Vow to me, Severus," said Narcissa, her eyes still bright. "I can never thank you enough."

He knew he should feel the absence of the weight of an Unbreakable Vow fulfilled. He should feel his soul ease with its expiry, but his soul was too bereaved to appreciate that it was gone, or that his murderous oath to Dumbledore had been completed, or even that the Fidelius of the killing was broken. For in fulfilling the Vow and his oath, there could be no freedom for him.

There were still just too many shackles on his soul to feel anything but anguish for all that was lost this night.

A/N: Thank you so much for reviewing.
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You Will Not Kiss Me