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You Will Not Kiss Me	By : Prosperosdaughter Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Snape/Remus Views: 22870 -:- 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
- 102
- 103
- 104
Direct quotes from Chapters 4, 5, 9 & 33 DH are in bold and © J.K. Rowling

Chapter 103: Bitter Honeymoon

Snape awoke to the worst hangover he could remember. His head was so thick, he couldn't even form the intention to Summon a hangover cure. He crawled up onto all fours, his mouth woolly and dry as he managed to crack open his sore eyes and tried to focus through the pounding headache.

Where am I? he thought thickly, as his fingers closed over a counterpane heavily laden with dust and then stroked over it as if the counterpane could tell him. He managed to raise his head, despite the hammering inside it each time he moved.

The Shrieking Shack. He blinked slowly, his stomach turning over unpleasantly. How had he ended up here?

Then he remembered.

As soon as he had been able to leave Malfoy Manor, he had Disapparated to Hogsmeade and, under a Glamour, bought a bottle of Ogden's 80 Year Old Finest, 70 per cent proof, with every intention of drowning himself in drink. He had only intended to use the Shrieking Shack to get to Hogwarts, but he had been drawn upstairs to the bedraggled bedroom where he and Lupin had once spent the night when Lupin had fled from his own jealous violence.

Snape remembered he had sat on that bed, knocked the cap off the bottle and drunk deeply, seeking oblivion in drink as his mind shrieked hysterical questions.

How had this happened without his knowing? How had the Dark Lord known this? He had seen Bellatrix's horror at the revelation so she clearly had not known. He recalled the assembled company who relished her discomfort, and he had been sure the news had not come from them.

Then, with a painful jolt, he had remembered Charity. Perhaps, she had known. She had known Lupin when he taught at Hogwarts. Perhaps an Order member had told her. Minerva, probably. Perhaps, the news had been tortured from her.

He remembered he had drunk liberally from the bottle to try to numb his shock and the anguish that threatened to overwhelm him. He had pushed Lupin away, and now he had gone to the arms of the pink-haired shape-shifter. Snape had planned it to keep Lupin safe, and yet the consummation of the plan tore at his heart.

Had it been that night he had received the wolf dream – the last one – so very confused and frightened?

His trembling hand had found the bonding circlet. Their bond was not broken. What did that mean?

"Nothing!" he had spat out loud, beginning to slur. "It means nothing!"

Lupin had taken a wife – the bond allowed for it.

But wait … wait, that part of his mind that had still been lucid tried to push itself to the fore. If Remus no longer loved me, the bond would break … it would break … break … break …

But Snape was a jealous man, a possessive man - both failings borne of his desperate insecurity. He couldn't accept that he could still be loved if his lover was in the arms of another. He drank greedily so he could rage. He raged against the Dark Lord. He raged against Dumbledore. He raged against Tonks. He yelled and swore as he fired off destructive spells at the room around himself. He couldn't find it in his heart to rage against Lupin so he raged against himself – at his cowardliness– at his shame - at his unworthiness. He was a wretch.

So he had drunk to forget – not his troubles, for they seemed intent on staying. No, to forget himself – to be fully unconscious and uncaring because the pain in his heart was more than he could bear – more than his ribs could contain – more than the sobs that wracked his thin body could ever express.

Because he knew that he meant nothing to anyone anymore -

Except to a portrait - as a spy.

And he couldn't bear the knowledge, so he drank himself into oblivion.

And now it was morning. Shafts of sunlight shone through the broken timbers of the house, highlighting the dust motes that hung in the filthy air.

Snape managed to drag himself from the dirty bed, his head pounding and his eyes sore, stumbling over some shards of wood from the damage he'd wrought on the room. He knew he had cried – he felt the soreness of his eyes and of his throat through the queasiness. Now, he felt hollow – as if his soul had been hewn from his chest.

He stood unsteadily and knew he couldn't make the walk to the school unassisted with his head pounding so savagely. Was he such a poor excuse for a wizard that he had to call a house-elf to witness him in this state and bring him a Sober-Up Potion? He walked three excruciating steps and doubled up as his stomach rebelled and he threw up violently. It would appear he was.

"Tippy!" he croaked.

oooOOOooo

That afternoon, he had sent Tippy once more with the Wolfsbane. Fleetingly, he had thought not to, but he could not. He had sworn to keep Lupin safe. Safe meant the best Wolfsbane there was.

He did the same the next afternoon – the day of the full moon. He had made his excuses to the Dark Lord that he tended the poison once more.

The Dark Lord had chuckled. It amused him that Snape hid in plain sight, at the 'scene of the crime'.

Snape knew now he would feel nothing but the tug, but the sickness rose again when visions came to him unbidden of Lupin with Tonks in carnality before the full moon. They were married now – how could it not happen? Every time he thought of it, he sickened and yet he could not stop himself thinking of it.

He took himself to his quarters once more and sat before his window and watched the moon, remembering how once he had run with the wolf up the mountain of Cadr Idris – he had flown on his broom – their first time running together – and it had been magnificent. The wolf had swum in the lake at the bowl at the base of the mountain and Snape had flown above, watching his wolf. A sob built in his chest, obstructed his throat, and broke free. Would they run together now, like she had with David?

And then, as if to underline his unhappiness, nausea built up in gut and crashed over him in waves. Not like the sickness of separation, and not like the sickness of grief. This was a different type of sickness, like a tight ball behind his stomach, acidic and unpleasant. It lasted throughout the night until moonrise. He didn't know what it meant: whether it was part of the Claim or his own body reacting against the third person in the Claim. Perhaps Alphard knew – if only he could ask. He curled up on the floor, facing his window, and all he knew was that it all compounded his misery.

oooOOOooo

In the days leading up to the planned move, Snape, Pettigrew, Draco and his father were summoned to the Dark Lord to give all the information they knew about Potter that might assist in his capture. Had it not been for Pettigrew, Snape would have been tempted to hide what little he knew, but he needed to appear better informed than Pettigrew.

He told the Dark Lord of the Invisibility Cloak, and how Dumbledore had encouraged its use, as far as Snape could tell. Of course, the boy's flying ability was well known, but Snape mentioned it just the same, with a sneer for a talent that required neither intellect nor application. Not to be outdone, Malfoy imposed himself on the conversation to give his opinion that, given the boy's ability, Potter would definitely be flying a broom for his escape.

The Dark Lord nodded, taking in all the information, running his wand through his hand once more, as if distracted by it.

oooOOOooo

Political power was accreting quickly to the Dark Lord now. Those sympathetic to his ideals were being approached in ever greater numbers and plans were being formulated in preparation for the fall of the Ministry. It would only now be a matter of days as more officials fell under the spell, coerced or willingly, of the Dark Lord's seductive promises of power and privilege to those he deemed worthy. The rot ran deep at the Ministry. Dumbledore had suspected as much for such was often the corruption of power, and now it was being made manifest.

Thicknesse introduced severe restrictions on the movement of werewolves, in addition to the employment rules already in place. Of course, these would only ever be enforced against those werewolves misguided enough to try to live within the law, not against the likes of Greyback, but it was Greyback and his pack's outrages that made it simple to introduce the new de facto measures without demur. Under the guise of keeping the Wizarding world safe from the scourge of filthy half-breeds about whom The Daily Prophet shrieked hysterically every day, any who tried to be law-abiding would soon find themselves with no option but to join the Dark Lord's growing army - or starve. The choice had become that stark.

oooOOOooo

The day of Potter's removal from his aunt's house had arrived. The Dark Lord summoned his inner circle of hooded Death Eaters to watch the skies over Little Whinging, he himself flying unaided amongst them. Those newest to the Dark Lord's cause were startled by the Dark Lord's ability to fly. Snape certainly wouldn't admit that he had since gained the ability himself – and shared it with my husband, the memory intruded. It pierced him even as he flew on a broom above the uniformly dull town below.

The Dark Lord had given the order as they had congregated in the skies that none was to touch Potter but the Dark Lord himself and there they hovered, spread over the radius of the enchantment for hours, high enough not to be seen by any of the Order going to retrieve Potter, but ready to pounce when the enchantment failed.

The sun set and darkness came and, with it, a faint sound of an engine gradually became a deafening roar and, from his high vantage point, Snape saw Hagrid wearing a helmet and goggles and sitting astride an enormous motorbike with a black sidecar attached as he approached the enchantment and then disappeared through it. If other Order members approached the enchantment, they must have been more discreet because he saw no-one else, although he knew the Order must be amassing there. With any luck, the Death Eaters would think only Hagrid and a couple of others were moving Potter rather than the thirteen he knew had to be the minimum for Dumbledore's plan of decoys to work. He didn't consider himself a superstitious man but he shuddered as he realised the number of Order members.

The Dark Lord swooped down to the apex of the enchantment and the Death Eaters followed, spreading out in a vast circle so that, as soon as the Order broke through the enchantment, the Dark Lord's trap would be sprung.

The Death Eaters patrolled, keenly watching for the break, but Snape knew they would be some time yet, administering Polyjuice to the six volunteers, dressing them alike, and so on. He hoped Moody would not allow Potter to ride a broom or he would soon be picked off, Snape was sure.

The high clouds crackled with magic and expectation combined and suddenly – broomsticks and then thestrals, with two riders on each, pierced the charm right into the centre of the circle of Death Eaters, followed by Hagrid's bike. Snape felt Lily's protective enchantment shimmer and fall even as the Killing Curses started to hail on the Order members.

It only took a few seconds for the Dark Lord to realise there were seven Potters and he shrieked with fury at the deception.

"FIND HIM!" screeched the Dark Lord. "KILL THE ESCORTS AND FIND HIM!"

The Dark Lord flew immediately after Moody and that Potter, surely expecting Potter to be with the most experienced Auror, but Snape suspected that would be a ruse, if he knew Moody at all. The Potter decoy with Moody Disapparated as soon as the Dark Lord flew in front of him – clearly no Gryffindor, sneered Snape – and the Dark Lord cast the Killing Curse directly into Moody's face and the old Auror's body spiralled downwards.

Snape turned and threw several convincing green light spells at Arthur Weasley, and had to block several powerful Stunning Spells in return. He saw Bellatrix and Rodolphus veer after one particular pair. He suspected he knew, even in the dark, that the escort would have pink hair. An unkind, grieving part of his mind hoped Bellatrix would be successful, then he cursed himself – he had tried to make that kind of deal before - as he swerved to avoid a Stunning spell from Bill Weasley on a thestral, protecting his father.

As he swerved, he espied Lupin with Yaxley and Courtney on his tail, the Potter decoy sharing his broom attempting to defend them both. The Stunning spell caught Courtney who spiralled downwards as another flew after him. Snape raced to catch up with Yaxley in his pursuit and his hood blew down just as Yaxley moved ahead of Snape and raised his wand, pointing it directly at Lupin's back –

'Sectumsempra!' shouted Snape, his panic rising that Lupin was undefended as Snape aimed to cripple Yaxley's hand.

But the spell, intended for Yaxley's wand hand, missed and hit the Potter decoy instead.

Hearing the decoy's yell of pain, Lupin's head whipped around and Snape saw the horror and betrayal on Lupin's face as he saw Snape behind the wand and misinterpreted what had had seen Snape do. It did not matter, Snape told himself. Lupin might no longer know the truth but the circlet would.

"George!" shouted Lupin, as he tried to hold the Potter who was obviously George Weasley on the broom and fly it in evasive manoeuvres at the same time.

"It's not Potter!" bellowed Snape at Yaxley, taking the opportunity to steer him away from Lupin. "We're wasting time! We need the real one!"

Yaxley nodded and they both banked their brooms and flew to assist the Dark Lord and Death Eaters who were chasing Shacklebolt and his decoy, as Lupin and George sped off unhindered.

All that mattered to Snape was that he knew he'd saved his lover to live another day, but at what cost? As Snape dived and banked, casting curses with seemingly grim determination all the time playing over the look of horror on Lupin's face - Snape didn't think he could pay a higher price than he had already.

As they chased down Kingsley, suddenly the Dark Lord reared up and Snape felt the Dark Mark prickle. One of them had found Potter and had called their master! The Dark Lord sped away and then Kingsley and his charge flew beyond the confines of another Charm and Yaxley and Snape and the other three Death Eaters followed in the Dark Lord's wake.

Snape watched what happened then from a safe distance, as two other Death Eaters ahead of the Dark Lord shot Killing Curses at Hagrid. Hagrid launched himself from the enchanted motorbike onto one of them as the Dark Lord screamed, 'Mine!'

The second Death Eater fell away for the Dark Lord to take aim at the barely conscious boy who was undoubtedly the real Potter as the motorbike began to fall uncontrollably. Snape's felt his throat constrict with fear - surely it could not end like this!

As the Dark Lord began his incantation, Potter's wand acted of its own accord, dragging his hand round like some great magnet and a spurt of golden fire unleashed which connected with Malfoy's wand and split it! The Dark Lord screamed, 'No!' in fury as he threw Malfoy's wand away and screamed again, 'Your wand, Selwyn, give me your wand!' as he pursued the motorbike that now sped away from him. Snape saw him prepared to cast once more – but the bike passed through yet another enchantment and the Dark Lord bellowed in his rage at his inability to follow.

They would pay for this failure this night, Snape knew.

Those Death Eaters not injured were charged with finding the bodies of the old Auror and those of their number who had fallen.

"I saw where Moody fell," said Snape, and made to leave.

"Not so fast, Snape. I want to keep an eye on you," snarled Bellatrix, glaring at him, distrustfully.

"You don't wish to attend to your dear husband's injuries from the Auror?" sneered Snape, his lip curling all the more for the ugly flush that spread up her cheeks.

"My work for the Dark Lord comes first!" she avowed loudly for the Dark Lord to hear.

"Clean up well, then all return to the Manor," the Dark Lord sang and he flew away in black smoke, his rage still reverberating in the air. "I have business with the wandmaker."

Snape sped off on his broom. He saw no reason to wait for Bellatrix. If she wished to follow him, she'd best catch up with him. He flew as fast as he was able. He had to check the Auror was dead. Moody held information that would be the death of Snape and Lupin if it were known and, if there was the faintest possibility that Moody had not been hit, Snape had to find him first before Bellatrix could interrogate him.

As Snape dived down to the approximate place to which he saw Moody fall, Snape remembered Moody's modified Cruciatus he used in interrogating Snape himself at the end of the first Wizarding War. On his wrists. On his knees. It was painful, but Snape had had worse, after all. He remembered that newly-made scarred face in his own, demanding answers, promising no mercy without co-operation, thinking in some way, Alastor Moody knew ways to frighten Severus Snape. Little did Moody understand the pain and terror that had coursed through Snape's veins like his life's blood many moons since.

Snape slowed down as he reached an alleyway behind some Muggle shops. He cast a revealing spell and quickly found the old Auror's shattered body. Bellatrix arrived merely seconds later and, seeing the body, crowed triumphantly.

Then Snape remembered Moody trying to stop him going to rescue Lupin, because he didn't believe Snape could do it. He remembered no acts of kindness at all. Still, he didn't intend to let Bellatrix make trophies of the old Auror's body even as she cursed the body over and over again, whooping with demented glee as it twitched from her magic that coursed through it.

"This is pointless," barked Snape. "We need to get back to the Dark Lord." He raised his wand to transfigure the body to bury it.

"I want to take something to show to our Lord," she clipped and she moved forward, challenging Snape, like a vulture over her share of carrion.

But at that moment, they heard running footfalls and spun away from each to confront the newcomers, just as a Stinging Hex caught Bellatrix's arm.

"Get away from him!" Bill yelled, as both Lupin and Bill advanced down the alley, their wands aloft.

Bellatrix cackled wildly as Snape's wand hand trembled slightly as he tried to judge how to play this.

"Well, well, well. What have we here? A werewolf and a blood traitor!" Bellatrix's mad gaze settled on Lupin. "Beast! I didn't get my by-blow of a niece tonight, but I have business with you," she snarled, her voice low and ugly.

Bellatrix whipped her wand arm around in a wide arc, but in the moment that she used to be so madly theatrical, Snape cast viciously at Lupin and stood in front of her, as Lupin's widened to see Snape.

"Mine, I think," Snape said, his voice menacing, his eyes searching out Lupin's to try to make him remember and understand.

Lupin reeled from the force of the hex, but his wand rose preternaturally fast to parry the spell. Snape knew this had to look convincing, or all could fail. He incanted to change the spell, not with green paint this time, but a green light only, as he had as he had chased Arthur Weasley. He could do no other with Bellatrix nearby.

"Avada Kedavra!" Snape cried.

Lupin side-stepped the spell quickly, shock written on his features, replaced quickly with gritted teeth and grim determination as he cast a Repulsion Jinx at Snape. Snape only just managed to raise his Shield Charm as he heard Bill engage Bellatrix in a noisy, violent duel next to them. Snape could see Lupin's pupils dilate fully and the wolf pass behind his eyes as he cast, his rage building, his teeth bared in outright aggression as Lupin turned his whole body into the intention of maiming spells he threw towards Snape.

"You murdering bastard!" Lupin growled.

Even though Snape was a skilled and fast duellist, he knew he only escaped grievous injury because the bond recognised Snape's intention not to wound, but to dissemble, just as they had practised in the Room of Requirement. He also could see that Lupin had no such realisation.

A Cutting Curse, Repulsion Jinxes, Stinging and Whipping Hexes, all followed furiously fast, one after the other, Snape parrying and shielding as his many pseudo-Killing Curses missed Lupin as Lupin dodged them, getting nearer and nearer to Snape with each dodge and feint, snarling as the wolf, offended, grieving and outraged, came ever nearer the surface.

Snape and Lupin's eyes locked, even as Snape parried a Burning Curse.

Remus! Remus! Please, hear me! Remember!

But Snape knew – he could feel – the connection was closed – their mind connection was barred by the wolf's barriers and ... by something else.

He barely had time to understand when –

"EXPELLIARMUS!"

In his distraction, Snape's wand was Lupin's, whipped from his hand and caught in a frighteningly fast snatch, even as Lupin caught Snape by the throat, and slammed him back into the wall, making his head pound and his eyes unfocus momentarily. Snape's vision swam back into focus as he felt Lupin's fingers digging in, only Snape's collar just protecting his skin and Snape tried to pry the fingers away from his windpipe.

"You fool!" he heard Bellatrix spit as there was the loud crack of a Repulsion Jinx as he saw Bill fly across the alley and heard a muttering of transfiguration spells, even as Lupin snarled in Snape's face.

"Accio magical eye!" Bellatrix screamed and then there was the crack of Apparition.

"Left you to my mercy, has she, Severus?" growled Lupin. Snape grappled with the hands that held him pinned to the wall, ever tightening around his throat, squeezing as Snape gasped to breathe against those large hands that he loved so well clenching to drain the life out of him, Lupin's handsome face made ugly by rage.

"Shall I show you the same mercy you showed Albus?"

The hatred in Lupin's voice ripped at him. Undisguised, real hatred.

I'll let him. Let him kill me. At least then his face will be the last thing I see.

Snape went limp and his hands stopped grasping at Lupin's wrists, but held them instead as he stared into Lupin's fury-darkened eyes.

"You betrayed me," whispered Lupin, no more than a hair's breadth between their faces. "You tried to kill me," Lupin said, venomously.

Still struggling to breathe, he could not speak but he caught Lupin's eyes and, in that unguarded moment, Lupin's mind opened to him once more.

I did not try to kill you. I bonded my wand to you. We practised for this.

In that instant, as he saw Lupin's expression change to one of shock as he released Snape as if burnt and clutched his own upper arm where the circlet was embedded. He stared at his arm and then at Snape again and reeled back with the recollection and then the realisation that Snape had duelled him to save Lupin's life.

Snape slumped against the wall, rasping for his own breath as he saw all this and more: a shift in Lupin's reality. With a jolt, Snape recognised that shift for what it was – an incomplete Memory Charm. Snape had cast enough and broken enough to know. But even as he watched all those feelings chase across Lupin's face as the Memory Charm cracked open and the horror that he had almost killed Snape with his bare hands, Snape knew he would become undone, confess his love and grab Lupin to himself if he stayed. His heart hurt. He could not stay. He snatched his wand back and Disapparated.

Back to the Dark Lord.

oooOOOooo

"Are you such a poor wizard," the Dark Lord whispered menacingly as Bellatrix still cringed in the corner, magical eye clutched in her twitching fist where she too had been punished, "that a mere beast bests you?

"CRUCIO!"

And as the curse struck and flayed his nerves, and Snape screamed, the tears he'd held onto seeing the hatred in his beloved's face fell freely down his face and he knew not which made him scream and cry more: the frying of his nerves or the breaking of his heart. All he knew was that the pain helped him, helped him release this hardest of all blows, this very last straw, this final body blow that would break him as surely as the Killing Curse would stop his breath. That blow had fallen now.

oooOOOooo

It had taken Snape a full day to recover from the Torture Curse. Narcissa had put him to bed. Snape even had a vague recollection of Malfoy querulously objecting, but Narcissa had tended him with Post-Cruciatus Potion just the same.

The following morning, one of the Malfoys' house-elves had brought Snape breakfast and Narcissa and Malfoy came to sit with Snape as he ate, albeit sparingly.

The Manor's stone walls carried the sound of screaming once more, and Malfoy and Narcissa flinched as their eyes met in desperation. Snape knew then that Draco was, once again, being guided by his master in the forms of torture, but it transpired that Draco didn't have the stomach for unfettered cruelty that his father had had at that age. The boy became more withdrawn by the day.

"It won't be long now," said Malfoy, his voice still tremulous and rasping. "Scrimgeour rarely leaves his office." Malfoy snorted. "I don't believe he realises how much danger is around him."

Snape watched Malfoy carefully, detecting for the first time that perhaps the reign of the Dark Lord did not promise Malfoy the glory of power he considered his due. Snape wondered if Malfoy wished he had a way to warn Scrimgeour – or that he had the courage to do so.

Perhaps, it always took the ruination of one you loved to bring a Death Eater to his senses.

oooOOOooo

Now recovered, Snape stared at the decrepit façade of Grimmauld Place, amazed that the Order had not thought to re-work the Charm with a new Secret-Keeper. It was foolish of him to go there, but surely no-one from the Order used it now. He let himself in and the old-fashioned gas lamps sprang into life. It was just as grimy and depressing as it had always been. Looking at it after such a long absence, Snape thought he perhaps understood more of the madness of Sirius Black than he had before: call this a family home?

Snape took one step forwards –

'Severus Snape?' Snape's stomach lurched to hear the unexpected voice.

Moody whispered out of the darkness and then a curse whooshed over him like cold air, and his tongue curled backwards on itself, but it quickly passed, although the pounding of Snape's heart did not.

He walked forward once more and a figure rose out of the carpet, tall, dust-coloured and terrible. The grey figure was gliding towards him, faster and faster, its waist-length hair and beard streaming behind it, fleshless, with empty eye sockets: horribly familiar, dreadfully altered, it raised a wasted arm, pointing at Snape. A momentary flutter of panicked guilt overtook him as he stepped backwards in shock and knocked over the troll's foot, but he recovered quickly.

"Confringo!" incanted Snape as the dust apparition blew apart. Part of Snape, still shocked at the sound of Moody's voice and the aberration of Dumbledore, but the other part would have liked to have sneered at Moody, had he still lived, for his melodrama. Didn't he know how much worse Snape had seen as an acolyte of a Dark wizard to be fazed by that concoction?

Snape inhaled deeply and set about his business. It was a fool's errand, but he knew he had become a fool.

He just wanted a photograph of Lupin. He wanted to see Lupin's face in repose or wreathed in his beautiful smile, not contorted in rage as he had seen him last. Their love had been so immanent and of the moment, he had never thought of photos taken as mementoes. He was sure Black must have had some.

Snape made his way up the flights of stairs to Black's room. He'd never been in it before and he looked at Black's posters of Muggle girls and motorbikes, so innocuous yet provocative in this household. His eyes roamed and immediately alighted on a picture of the Marauders standing arm in arm, laughing at the camera. Snape's heart clenched and he strode to the photograph, ignoring Black, Potter and Pettigrew, just feasting his eyes on Lupin's young self, no grey in his hair, no lines on his face, laughing delightedly. A sad, crooked smile formed on Snape's face as he drew a gentle finger across Lupin's face.

"Remus," he whispered, as the unbidden memory of Lupin's shock and confusion at Snape's perceived betrayal came to him. Snape closed his eyes against the memory, even as the next question was to wonder who had worked a Memory Charm on Lupin. Had it been Dumbledore? Tonks herself? Aurors often perpetrated Memory Charms, and not always well. He pushed those thoughts away as his fingers tried to find purchase under the photo to take it down, but it was stuck fast with a Permanent Sticking Charm.

"Accio photographs of Remus Lupin!" he said, as there surely had to be more. But nothing came to him. Suddenly, he was filled with sadness and frustration that even this smallest of things was denied to him.

Perhaps, Black had Charmed his photos not to be Summoned in case his parents had tried to find his things. Resolving this, Snape started to search through Black's bedside cabinet and chest of drawers, taking no more care than the Aurors had of his possessions. After all, all this had been abandoned – why should he take care? Finding nothing in these, Snape turned to the few books that Black had in this room, old school texts and Muggle mechanics books mainly, which had become brittle with age. He shook these out, and from one floated a folded letter.

Snape watched as it floated down and, just before it reached the floor, he scooped it up and unfolded it and then gasped as he recognised the handwriting and he knelt in shock.

"Lily."

A photo was tucked in the fold: Lily kneeling, watching her son on his first birthday on a toy broom zooming in and out of the picture, Potter's legs chasing after it.

Snape turned back to the letter. It was just a letter – a letter written when they were in hiding from the Dark Lord, full of nonsense but Snape lingered on every word, hearing Lily's voice in his head as he read. There was a time when his blood would have boiled with jealousy to read about Potter and his son, but he was past caring about that now. Now he just read each word and heard her laugh and even giggle, her Northern inflections (smoothed away, just as his had been, by absence from the Northern Muggle world) every now and then.

He had thought he would never hear her without a Pensieve again. The tears that had been threatening now flowed and dripped from his nose as he read the old letter from Lily. He turned to the second page and saw her signature. He hadn't seen it for twenty years and a small moan of grief escaped him.

Lots of love,

Lily

It wasn't even addressed to him, but seeing it was a stark reminder of his vow – of the job he still had to do. Snape took the page bearing Lily's signature, and her love, and tucked it inside his robes. Then he ripped in two the photograph, so that he kept the part from which Lily laughed, throwing the portion showing James and Harry back on the floor, under the chest of drawers.

He couldn't say why, but seeing Lily smile and hearing her laughter in his head fortified him. He had lost so much, he had almost forgotten why he had given that all-encompassing vow to Dumbledore in the first place. He owed it to his friend to fulfil his promise. And he would.

He finished his search, but found nothing more. Finding a blank sheet of parchment, he cast a copy charm so Lupin's young likeness was copied to the parchment. It wouldn't move in that joyful laughter, but he'd managed to copy it when Lupin's smile was at his widest and his eyes sparkled. He tucked that next to Lily's photo. His two most precious people.

It wasn't much, but it was something. Something to remind him of the warmth of love.

oooOOOooo

The expectation around the great dining table at Malfoy Manor was enormous. Those Death Eaters with influence at the Ministry had reported to the Dark Lord that they now had influence over every major department, and Pius Thicknesse himself had Imperiused many of the senior Aurors beneath him. Yaxley, Travers and Thicknesse had been despatched to take Scrimgeour by force. Yaxley had reported that rumours had abounded that Scrimgeour had visited Harry Potter the day before. The Dark Lord wanted that information. They were to retrieve it from Scrimgeour, no matter the cost.

Within hours, Yaxley returned with the news that Scrimgeour had not given up the boy despite their most "determined" efforts, buthe was dead and the Ministry was now in their hands. Thicknesse was declared Minister of Magic and immediately appointed Yaxley as the head of Magical Law Enforcement and orders were given to all Aurors and other Law Enforcement to remove all protective enchantments from houses known to be affiliated to members of the Order.

As the Dark Lord's right hand man, the Dark Lord did not require Snape to join the parties breaking the enchantments to find Potter. Instead, he joined the Dark Lord and a few of the other Death Eaters who had more brains than brawn and they began to fill in the plans for new anti-Muggleborn measures. Perhaps, a registration commission? Yes, indeed, the Dark Lord liked the idea of that, but first he spoke to Thicknesse for a long time in private, for he had a plan – a plan, with the power of the Ministry at his command, to root out those who dared to speak the Dark Lord's name, once and for all.

The first instance of the Taboo working occurred within hours of its inception but, foolishly, Rowle had summoned the Dark Lord for nothing. Once again, Draco was required to fulfil his punishment, for the Dark Lord's pleasure at seeing both the tortured and the torturer suffer.

The next day, it took only one instruction to Thicknesse to reduce the list of candidates for the position of Head of Hogwarts to one: Severus Snape. The appointment was made, although it would not be announced formally until 1st September, to give Snape's exoneration for the death of Dumbledore time to work through the Ministry and down through the newspapers.

The Dark Lord had considered removing all of the existing staff and packing the positions with those of his own choosing.

"If I may, my Lord. If we try to remove all those teachers, many of whom taught the parents of the current intake, we may have … presentational difficulties. Might I suggest, we fill those positions that are currently vacant, as that will cause no concern. After all, we wish to have all magical young under our remit, not have their parents remove them."

"Only legitimate magical youth, remember, Severus. There will be no more Mudbloods at Hogwarts," the Dark Lord hissed dangerously, leaning forward. Then the Dark Lord sat back and steepled his long, white fingers as he regarded Snape.

"But what you say makes some sense," deliberated the Dark Lord. "Surely, old fools like Slughorn can't last long. He taught me once, after all. What positions are vacant?"

"Defence against the Dark Arts and Muggle Studies," advised Snape.

The Dark Lord sneered and the sneer became a mirthless chuckle.

"There is no requirement to defend oneself against the Dark Arts now. Learning them shall be a requirement instead."

Snape inclined his head.

"Of course, my Lord."

"And Muggle Studies must indeed continue – but the truth must be told."

"Indeed. Who do you have in mind for the appointments? The posts are time-consuming and will remove those faithful from you for a majority of the time," said Snape, hoping this would mean that the worst of the Death Eaters would prefer to remain at the Dark Lord's side or be placed in positions within the Ministry.

"Perhaps, the Carrows. I can spare them," said the Dark Lord.

Snape's stomach sank with disappointment but he supposed he should expect no better, but it would be difficult to rein in those two who enjoyed their sadistic pleasures so well. Well, he would have to find a way.

Snape outlined to the Dark Lord the work he would need to do to set up the new regime before 1st September. The teaching staff normally returned to school one week before the resumption of term, so he had plenty to do. The Dark Lord agreed that Snape should reside at Hogwarts except when he was summoned.

oooOOOooo

Snape couldn't deny that he breathed far easier now he was officially resident at Hogwart's. The Headmaster's office was now his own but he hadn't yet visited. He spent the first day finalising the repairs to his quarters in the dungeon and his old office. He didn't intend to relinquish them.

His appointment meant all the spells that Dumbledore had taught him would work to full efficiency. Using one of these spells, he cloaked his quarters from prying eyes, making it unplottable to all but those he invited.

And just who will I invite now? he thought bitterly. At least, the spell meant there could be no intruders on his privacy, and he so needed a place to call his own away from the Dark Lord and his Death Eaters.

The Headmaster's quarters still belonged to Dumbledore as far as Snape was concerned and while he still acted under his instruction, working towards his ends, Snape could never consider himself entitled to that office. He was happier with the quarters he was familiar with.

He finished the last of his repairs, and then from his robe, he produced his two photographs, one moving and one still. Tippy came with his tea, and then watched as Snape transfigured an old pewter plate into a double photograph frame, carefully trimming the photographs to fit, and folding the part of the letter he had taken so Lily's love and signature sat below her laughing face.

Reverentially, he placed the photo frame on his bedside cabinet. His two loves: both driven away by him and married to others. He just prayed that Lupin would not meet the same fate as Lily.

oooOOOooo

Snape had spent the last two days repairing his rooms and his office and setting out all of his experiments once more. The monotonous repetition of repairing spells, filing and planning and preparation had eased his agitation, if not his grief. His being away from Malfoy Manor had soothed his soul and, although nothing seemed to spare his waking nightmares (to which he had recently added Charity begging for her life, as Dumbledore had begged him for death), at least they were not now added to in number. But it was now time to report all he had heard and seen over the past week and begin to plan the school term and such counter-strategies as he could get away with, as deep under cover as he now was.

Snape used the last password of Dumbledore's to let himself in and stopped dead at the sound of muffled voices. He slowly ascended the spiral stairs and put his ear to the door, then quickly opened it to march in, wand raised, but stopped dead in his tracks.

Snape could not believe his eyes. There, in the Headmaster's office, Remus Lupin talking animatedly with Dumbledore's portrait. How on earth had this happened?

"How did you get in?" Snape asked, thunderstruck and fearful. Had Lupin come to finish the job? To kill him at last? Snape took one step backwards, letting his wand hand fall, knowing he would be completely at Lupin's mercy for his wand could not defend him.

"Forgive me, Severus," Dumbledore's portrait said. "Remus apparently has many ways into the castle at his disposal. Tippy told me Remus was looking for you. I invited him here. I thought it best that we talk first."

Snape couldn't tear his eyes from Lupin. He looked unwell and a little wild. Feral, his mind supplied. He searched Lupin's eyes for the loathing he must surely feel for Snape since they had duelled over a week ago. Why could he not see it?

Lupin's gaze seemed to bore into at him and the silence was heavy between them. Then Lupin quickly strode over to Snape. Snape backed up fast, wondering if he would be grabbed by the throat again, but his back hit the wall. Lupin stopped and stood merely inches from him and planted his hands on the wall on either side of Snape's face.

Lupin's eyes were red, tired and more lined even than when Snape had last seen him, as if he had had no sleep all, but to Snape he was the most wonderful creature he had ever seen. Even his scent, strong because he obviously had not washed in days, seemed to fill Snape's senses, almost hypnotising him, calming Snape because he was close to the man he loved.

Slowly, Lupin leaned forward, as if to kiss Snape, their mouths open, only centimetres apart, breathing each other's breath, scenting each other.

"Severus," Lupin murmured, his hand moving to brush Snape's cheek with the lightest of touches, making Snape's eyes briefly close at the touch, even though he could feel that Lupin restrained himself – from what? Passion? Violence? Snape didn't know, but the air was laden with expectation between them. "I need the truth."

Snape's answer was a puff of air, exhaled from the most profound relief combined with fear.

"I will tell you - everything."

A/N: Thank for reviewing, as always.
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You Will Not Kiss Me