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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
- 108
- 109
- 110
A bit delayed this one: work has been so busy! Anyone would think I owe them my time because they pay me … oh.

Chapter 109: The Game's Afoot

Emboldened by their reunion and their united front against the Tonkses, they had talked well into the night about their hopes and fears, their pain and their doubts, encouraging each other to be candid about those things which had wounded each of them the most. These wounds had been difficult to face, but now they had come to terms with the seismic shock of the confessions of the previous days, they both knew they had to confront the issues facing for their relationship to survive. No grand solutions would be found so soon but they knew this. They only hoped to understand each other better and bolster their trust in each other. Eventually they had slept, once more enfolded in each other's arms.

The next morning, as Lupin returned from the bathroom, he stopped and Levitated Malfoy's torn robe from the corner of the bedroom floor where he had thrown it yesterday and, with a brisk upstroke of his wand, he cast Incendio! The robe was reduced to ashes which Lupin Banished lazily and he climbed back into bed, pulling Snape to himself.

Still under the bed covers, Snape smiled to himself. He wanted to see Lupin assert himself, and even these small actions showed small glimmers of their normality but, truthfully, these glimmers were fewer than Snape would like. This morning, he wanted to keep the conversation as light as they could to help them re-establish some of that normality.

"Yesterday was the third time I've seen you Disarm multiple duellists," Snape said, settling against Lupin's chest. "I'm beginning to suspect you've had a lot of practice," he added wryly.

"James and Sirius would often practice on each other or even on Peter. Sometimes, it could get a little out of hand. Teenage boys, you know. So, I became quite adept at Disarming them." Lupin chuckled softly and Snape rolled his eyes, but it was half-hearted. There had never been such horseplay in his dorm; such fighting and Disarming had been all too real for Snape at that time. But he didn't begrudge Lupin his memories – not any more.

"Who'd've thought it would be such good training for you," he said instead, turning to face Lupin.

"Quite. Although – it was a regular occurrence, I must admit." A small smile quirked the corners of Lupin's mouth. Even these small smiles warmed Snape's heart: he wanted to see more of them - more of Lupin's humour and gentle temperament. He wondered how long it would take.

He leant over Lupin to kiss him, but exactly as his lips met Lupin's, the Dark Mark burnt.

The stark contrast of the pain from the burn with the contentment he had felt a scintilla of time before caught him off-guard and he could not hide his pain as he lurched onto Lupin's chest as his arm gave way.

Lupin caught him in his arms, his eyes sharpening with worry. Snape gasped as he grasped his arm and Lupin helped him to sit up. Snape closed his eyes and smiled weakly at Lupin's concern.

"It had to happen sooner or later. I'm just grateful this didn't happen earlier," said Snape stoically, a brief flash of what could have happened had he been summoned during their meeting with the Tonkses last night sending a chill through him, at least as much as had the summons come when he had seduced Lupin from his abstinence. Snape found himself absurdly grateful at the timing.

"I'd be more grateful if it didn't happen at all," said Lupin ruefully as he steadied Snape to stand and retrieved Snape's robe from the wardrobe, quickly steaming it with a charm and holding it for Snape to put his arms through, wrapping it around him, fastening the buttons before brushing it down and slipping the belt through its loops.

Snape watched Lupin's hands as they worked, worked to keep himself busy, Snape knew, as he watched the muscles in Lupin's jaw twitch, understanding Lupin was putting off thinking about where Snape was now going.

"I don't want you to go," murmured Lupin, his hands holding Snape's shoulders, his eyes darkened with fear, a fear Snape realised was borne of separation after such a short time of reunion – that Snape might not return.

Snape cupped Lupin's face. Lupin looked so lost, so helpless. These were such early days for them, so much rebuilding to do for them both when they felt so vulnerable.

"No. I know," Snape murmured, brushing his face against Lupin. "But now ... now at least there may be more we can gain from my service to the Dark Lord than just biding my time as Headmaster."

"What do you mean: biding your time?"

"I'll explain when I get back." Snape grabbed the back of Lupin's head and kissed him hard. "Don't worry, Remus. At the moment, my currency with the Dark Lord is high."

He nodded and Lupin nodded in pained understanding.

Snape had hoped there would be more time before he was summoned again as well. They still had so much to discuss – so much to confront and surmount. Snape had hoped they would have time to consolidate their reunion before this happened, but it was not to be. Snape hoped that whatever this summons might bring, he would not be felled by the Dark Lord's cruelty. He wanted to make the most of this time he and Lupin had together before the staff returned.

Lupin seemed almost skittish as Snape made for the door. Perhaps, he needed something to do whilst Snape was gone.

"You could wait for me in the Headmaster's office, if you prefer," suggested Snape, thinking Lupin could at least have company with Dumbledore or he could look at Dumbledore's extensive library. Lupin shook his head slowly.

"I need time before I speak to Albus again," Lupin said, surprising Snape with the hard edge in his voice, then he pulled Snape to him. "Please - be careful."

"Of course."

oooOOOooo

"… so they have to flush themselves inside!" Snape heard Yaxley boast as he swept into the hall and the assembled Death Eaters laughed uproariously. "Not us, though. We keep our access on the Floo network, but it's limited to only high-ranking personnel."

"Ah Severus," said the Dark Lord. "Come. Sit beside me."

The Dark Lord indicated his right hand side, and Snape took the reserved seat with a satisfied half-smile, allowing himself smug looks at Bellatrix and Lestrange. He would have included Malfoy in the performance in years gone by, but Malfoy was a busted flush now, cringing in his chair, wandless and broken, propped up by his wife, attended by a son grown afraid of the barbarity of the regime of which he had so willingly become a part. His eyes flicked away from the desperate family to the brutish man still speaking.

Yaxley was in the midst of reporting on Umbridge's Muggle-born Registration Commission. They were utilising Dementors prior to the hearings to ensure those called were cowed into submission.

"Give 'em a taste of what's to come in Azkaban!" jeered Dolohov to the voluble appreciation of those around him.

It was early days. Information was being collated from the Ministry's records and hearings were proceeding apace. Snape saw the draft of a pamphlet being passed back to Yaxley. Snape could just make out the title:

MUDBLOODS

and the Dangers They Pose to a Peaceful Pure-Blood Society

Snape waved it away when it came to him. He didn't need to see it: he had more than a fair idea of the type of hysterical drivel Umbridge would concoct and it was clear that the Dark Lord tired of such bureaucracy. He turned to the Death Eater who would be sure to provide him with blood sport.

Bellatrix reported on the murder and torture of a Muggle family. She fleshed out the detail of how slowly they had died, her eyes alight with fanaticism as she looked adoringly on the Dark Lord, yearning for his approval. The family had lived in one of the many villages which held a mixture of Muggle and magical blood. Snape began to realise that these would be particular targets of Death Eaters as their deaths in close proximity to magical people would be most threatening to those who continued to resist the Dark Lord's reign.

As she finished her macabre recollections, she turned on Snape, hissing, "What has Dumbledore's lapdog done to show his loyalty to our Lord this week? Tortured any paperwork?" She cackled maniacally.

The Dark Lord raised a long hand to silence her and she shrank bank into her chair. He turned slowly to Snape.

"Have you been busy at the school, Severus? Have you prepared for the future of wizarding kind?" the Dark Lord leered.

"Amongst other things, my Lord," said Snape, with a practised insouciance. Snape reeled off experiments undertaken on poisons and potions, using as much jargon as he knew would obfuscate what he was doing to all but an Apothecary, and then he detailed all the administrative work he should have been doing, but in fact had neglected completely because of his reunion with Lupin. He made it sound tedious and drawn-out, as no doubt it would be when he eventually turned his mind to it.

Amycus Carrow guffawed heavily in the corner.

"Yeah. Personally – I can't wait! It'll be interesting teaching the pampered brats how to use the Dark Arts properly. None of this defence crap." He snorted, and the assembled Death Eaters sniggered immoderately. "Yeah. Yeah. Whaddya need to defend against?" He carried on laughing, looking at his fellows for approval.

Snape thought, I could cast Sectumsempra! to his face now, and then ask him if he wishes to know how to defend against it. He sneered at the thought. Snape could not – no, he did not bother to – disguise his disgust that imbeciles such as the Carrows had been chosen to be appointed as professors at an institution such as Hogwarts. Perhaps in a way, it was a blessing. Any student with a functioning brain could tell the Carrows were nothing but ill-educated brutes. They might appeal to the Crabbes and Goyles of this world, but what they had to demonstrate was hardly aspirational. Intelligent bigots would be far more difficult for Snape to undermine and sabotage.

Alecto Carrow was now joining in – indeed, she was almost drooling, Snape noticed with disdain, as she chattered with relish about how she would tell the truth of Muggles and Muggle-borns. She would teach young wizardkind just how to deal with the Mudblood thieves of magic and their partners-in-crime, the blood traitors.

As the Carrow twins crowed their hatred, the Dark Lord silenced them.

"I'm sure we will hear more of your escapades once term starts," he said, although his tone was dismissive. He turned to Selwyn.

"How goes it at Gringotts?"

"There has been some resistance, my Lord. The little bleeders needed a reminder of what they'll have to put up with if they don't give us access to their accounts. So I showed 'em. With interest!" Selwyn mimed the Crucio wand movements. "Even uglier when you make them dance!" he sneered, provoking even louder laughter from around the table. Snape allowed himself a smile, but it didn't reach his eyes.

And so the evening wore on, each Death Eater vying to out-do the others in their bragging of their cruelty. The Dark Lord savoured their malice – encouraging them to make him proud – to impress upon all his inferiors how even their lives had no worth to him.

In that small part of Snape's Occluded mind where he preserved his sanity, he thought on the soft touch of Lupin's fingers tracing Snape's jaw; how he and Snape had sat together holding hands through their traumatic discussions last night; how Lupin would place his face into Snape's hands in supplication or the hoarse whisper of, "My Severus," that would send a thrill through his whole being. It was the gentleness that gave him strength in the face of such malevolence – a balm of comfort to soothe the savagery of those whose validation he had once sought so desperately.

And they dared called Lupin a beast?

He watched them snarling and jabbering just like jackals around carrion and made his careful mental notes of all they said, grateful that this time for the first time in months, Lupin would be there to administer that balm to his soul when he returned.

oooOOOooo

Snape's return unharmed was greeted by Lupin with a desperate kind of relief and happiness combined. He wouldn't believe Snape was unharmed until he had run his own hands over him and found no trace of injury and then had held Snape close, a shudder of relief taking hold of him. It only seemed to reinforce in Snape the realisation of how damaged Lupin had been by their time apart.

Snape knew he wouldn't always be so lucky to be unpunished by the Dark Lord, but they needed to restore their faith in each other to fortify them for that time when it came, as it undoubtedly would. They rested for a while together before Tippy served them supper and Snape told Lupin all that had been reported.

It was clearly as repulsive to Lupin as it had been to Snape, but interesting nonetheless to have his slightly different slant on it.

"The Goblins are magical beings, but they cannot withstand a show of violence from wizards," said Lupin. "Hearing about them from Bill, I dare say, they'll find more subtle ways to undermine the regime." Then Lupin became thoughtful. "You know, if Vo ... You-Know-Who gets access to the accounts ... we need to give up the flat, Severus. The rental payments are from your vault."

Snape closed his eyes. He'd forgotten. It could have been their undoing. It was insidious. There would be no place for them to call home outside of Hogwarts.

"We'll have all your things brought here ... I'm sure we can find somewhere to store them all ..."

"There's the farmhouse," offered Lupin. "I mean, if I've too much to keep here."

Snape blinked. "The farmhouse? Well, yes. Can we still use it? I mean, was it bequeathed in Albus's will?"

Lupin looked confused momentarily and then his face fell with the realisation.

"He didn't tell you." It was a statement, not a question. Then Lupin's face lit up with a smile. "Albus transferred it to me just after we'd done the Fidelius on the flat. He said it was for us but in my name to preserve your cover."

Snape was stunned: the farmhouse was theirs – given to them! Lupin continued.

"It turns out that it used to be owned by Idris's father. Albus said he'd offered to return it to Idris, but he refused it so Albus transferred it to me. He said it would avoid Ministry notice if it wasn't in his will." Lupin eyes sparkled with hope, lighting up that sorely missed smile. "I hoped after the war ... it would be our home. Then everything went wrong. I still hope it will be our home, Severus."

It had been Snape's dream, hadn't it? To live in that house with Lupin. But this news - that it had been Idris's family home - intruded on his pleasant thoughts of a life with Lupin as he remembered the final words of the curse:

'May this curse never be laid to rest,

Until my son is restored to me!'

He couldn't help but wonder how much Albus knew about Lydiard and if the curse connected to the farmhouse? But then another question cut into his reverie.

"Did you ever take her there?" muttered Snape, toying with his fork, feigning a disinterest he wished he could feel.

He waited for Lupin to insist she be given her name. Snape knew why Lupin did it: Lupin had spent a lifetime being "it" – a mere creature, dehumanised by a refusal to give him his name – even Snape had been guilty of it once. And even though he knew why Lupin insisted on naming Tonks – a vicarious stand against dehumanisation - for Snape, she had trespassed on Lupin too greatly. Snape could not forgive her, or give her respect.

Lupin regarded Snape and, with a sad smile that seemed to acknowledge Snape's unspoken feelings, he said, "No. I never even told her of it. It's ours. Just ours."

Snape wrapped his own hand over Lupin's. He wanted to leave Hogwarts and Apparate to the farmhouse with Lupin right then and there but he had to remember the Jinx. They only had safety together here in Hogwarts.

"What of the werewolf restrictions? Can they confiscate the farmhouse from you?"

"Ah! Now there's the trick! The farmhouse is a Muggle property. Lydiard inherited it from his Muggle-born wife's parents, together with the farm land. It's not registered with the Ministry. Of course, if the Death Eaters start looking at Muggle property registration ... well, there may be trouble ahead. But for now," Lupin smiled warmly and kissed Snape softly, "it's ours."

Then Lupin got up from the table and retrieved a sheaf of paperwork from Snape's desk. "And as for your administration, hopefully, this will be of some help."

Snape took the papers and shuffled through them, a smile slowly forming as he realised Lupin had done the timetabling for each year: all the classes perfectly scheduled. It must have taken hours. But then – Snape had been gone for hours.

"I hope you don't mind," said Lupin. "I was going mad waiting here," Lupin gestured around himself, "not knowing …"

Snape grabbed Lupin's gesticulating hand.

"Thank you," said Snape, his voice low and reassuring, his eyes darting over the papers, taking in all the meticulous detail, squeezing Lupin's hand. "This is perfect. Absolutely perfect." Snape looked up to meet Lupin's relieved gaze. "Of course, I'll have to write it out again. My handwriting's fairly well-known and yours is … well …"

Lupin chuckled. "Yes, I know what you think of my handwriting, Severus, but I think I can help there too."

Lupin got up and found one of Snape's brewing diaries and cast a charm over it. As he cast, Snape stood behind Lupin's shoulder and watched as his own handwriting formed an alphabet of upper case and lower case letters and the range of numbers in mid-air. Then Lupin cast again and his handwriting appeared and he performed a Switching Spell. With a final flourish, he cast the Switching Spell to the timetable parchments on the table. Snape returned to the table and inspected them: his handwriting in every detail. He thumbed through them quickly. He couldn't identify a single detail that was off.

He turned to Lupin and raised an eyebrow.

"A Marauder spell?" he said, with mock severity.

"I'm afraid so, Severus," Lupin responded with mock contrition of his own.

"Cheating, I suppose."

"Helping Peter when he got behind with his notes, helping me with mine when I was … well … indisposed." Lupin shrugged. "Very useful, it was too."

"Well, it looks as if it will be very useful for us now."

Lupin smiled brightly this time. Snape remembered, with a sharp pang of guilt, that Lupin had always enjoyed the administration that came with teaching, revelling in bringing order to disorder – perhaps transferring his own desire for control which he couldn't exercise on his own chaotic life before he taught at Hogwarts.

"Excellent!" said Lupin happily. "I very much want to help, where I can."

Immediately, that declaration and the throwaway comment about Marauder spells triggered an idea.

"Actually, you can help me with something I agreed with Albus," said Snape. "Now is as good a time as any. Tell me all of the secret passageways you found for your map. I want to seal them ceremoniously when the staff return …"

Lupin blinked, uncomprehending.

"But, surely, Severus – there should be as many escape routes as possible if there are to be teachers who are Death Eaters!"

"This is how the game is played, Remus. I give the Dark Lord seemingly vital information but withhold the essentials."

"I don't understand …"

"As Headmaster, I, and only I, can channel through the stone of the castle. Albus made sure he showed me before …" It was a momentary hesitation only, but Lupin caught it and pressed his fingers to Snape's hand to continue. "Before he died. You remember that defence club Potter ran when Umbridge was here?"

Lupin affirmed, still confused.

"They used the Room of Requirement to train. Well, it isn't even up for question that there will be those who need to use that room once more, even just as a place of respite once," Snape sneered, "there are teachers like the Carrows on the loose. I will channel a tunnel through to Hogsmeade. It will be a new passageway – no-one but you and I know of it now, but those who seek refuge there will quickly find out about it. There isn't the remotest possibility that any other former student will know of its existence. After all, you and your friends may have traced them all, but you can be certain plenty of ex-students know one or more of them. So, I tell the Dark Lord of those already in existence and make a show of sealing them off. It will never cross his mind that I myself have built a new passageway for the students' use."

An appreciative smile crept onto Lupin's face.

"Where in Hogsmeade?"

Snape returned the smile.

"Well … that is where I will also need your undoubted talents of persuasion. Albus thinks Aberforth will be willing." Then Snape inclined his head, reconsidering. "Perhaps not willing as such, but amenable to the right person."

Lupin was now attentive, positively eager.

"Just tell me what you need me to do."

"I think if you told Aberforth that there was a secret passage behind his pub cellar which could prove useful to protect the students from the Death Eaters in the castle, including his brother's killer, he would be more than amenable to allowing it access."

Lupin's smile waned somewhat, but Snape was firm.

"You must use what galvanises people, Remus. It is not a lie to say I am Albus's killer, after all. There needs to be an escape route that is safe. Parents will not be able to remove their children once term starts – attendance at Hogwarts is mandatory. If parents try to remove their children, the Dark Lord has already made clear the parents will suffer directly – or indirectly through their children."

"This is just appalling," muttered Lupin.

"Yes, it is. We have to do what we can. I will do my best to deflect the Carrows, but that tunnel may become necessary, sooner or later. So – will you give me the passageways?"

For a brief moment, Snape wondered if Lupin trusted him fully, for he was sure he saw a flicker of doubt as Lupin's lips thinned, but then Lupin nodded and pulled a piece of parchment to him, drawing the locations out for Snape to give to his master.

"Do you want to watch me perform the spell on the Room of Requirement?" asked Snape, withholding the sigh of relief at Lupin's demonstration of complete trust in him.

"Oh yes, Severus. Very much."

"Tomorrow then. We can work on concealing your movements within the school at the same time."

oooOOOooo

We need the room in which the students will hide and find refuge.

We need the room in which the students will hide and find refuge.

We need the room in which the students will hide and find refuge.

They watched the great door appear and went through together. Snape felt Lupin's fingers find his hand.

The last time they had been here together, they had trained and duelled, practised Occlumency and forged a mental bond. Snape had bonded his wand to his husband – and it had nearly cost him his life. He turned to look at Lupin and saw Lupin's Adam's apple move as he gulped and knew Lupin was remembering the same.

"Severus, I …"

"Don't," Snape interrupted firmly. "You did what any man would have done in your position, Remus. You thought I had betrayed you. How could you think otherwise when I had left you without explanation – when it was I who killed Albus?" Lupin's eyes glittered; Snape could hardly blame him: his own eyes stung with the memories. "And once she scrambled your memories, you believed I was duelling you to kill. I don't blame you. Not now. Not now I know what she did. If we forgive each other, we must forgive ourselves as well, don't you think?"

Lupin regarded him intently, and then screwed his eyes shut as if screwing his courage together.

"I want our life back, Severus. How do we move forward with all the damage we've done?"

Snape moved closer, drawing Lupin's hands to him.

"It's done, Remus. We can't undo it. I wish we could. I wish I'd told you everything before Albus bound me – about Lily – Albus - everything. You'll never know how much I hate myself for it." Lupin started to object, but Snape stopped him. "If you'd known – if you'd just known -"

Lupin pulled Snape into a fierce embrace. "Sshhh," he murmured against Snape's hair. "You mustn't hate yourself for this – for trusting Albus, just as I did." He pressed urgent kisses to Snape's face and Snape reciprocated, remembering their passion in this very room when they prepared for their roles in this war.

"Then we have to agree, Remus – we have to move forward, no matter how painful. We have too much to do."

"Yes. Yes, I agree." Lupin broke the embrace, although his hand still trailed in Snape's fingers. "Perhaps, we should start … Headmaster."

Snape smiled at Lupin's slightly lop-sided wry smile at the title. . Lupin moved to the side to watch. Then Snape closed his eyes slowly, summoning the spell Dumbledore had taught him

Snape raised his arms, his wand held high and he began to invoke.

oooOOOooo

Snape fingered the gaps in the book shelves. Odd. The shelves had always looked full to bursting before. He stood back and turned to talk to Dumbledore, but the portrait snoozed. Snape looked again at the several gaps. There was a mystery there, he was sure, but a sharp rap of knuckles on the door drew his attention away and he went to stand behind his desk, clasping his hands behind his back and standing straight and stiff as he set his face as a mask sneering superiority.

"Enter," he said, and his stomach turned: he had dreaded this.

The Heads of House entered and took the seats ranged before the Headmaster's desk. No-one offered him the pleasantries of greetings or enquiries about holidays, the type of conversation of which he had always been dismissive before. Now he felt the sharpness of its absence – one didn't exchange pleasantries with a murderer. They waited for him to speak.

"Good afternoon," he said silkily and slowly, fixing each with his gimlet-eyed glare. "You are the designated Heads of House. The Ministry has decreed you should stay in post, even with of your – ah – suspect allegiances." Snape caught and held Minerva's furious gaze. "It has been decided that both parents and students alike will appreciate the continuity whilst everyone becomes accustomed to the changes."

Snape lifted his chin with studied arrogance. "It will be a very different regime, I assure you. More disciplined. Less flippant. I will not tolerate disregard for the rules as my predecessor did." He heard Minerva draw in a sharp breath of offence. He fixed his attention on her once more. "From staff or students. The fine traditions of wizardry and witchcraft will be upheld. We will teach our magical youth to be proud of their inheritance and and of their blood."

Snape noted how the Heads of House exchanged furtive glances with each other, even Slughorn. It was exactly what he wanted. They needed to work together to protect their charges. As painful as it might be, they must view him and all he stood for as the enemy. He wanted to galvanise them into mistrust of him for this was how he would work to undermine his own regime. He would suggest – expect – order – all the things he wanted them to scrutinise and undermine. As sure as night followed day, they would look to sabotage the will of the murderer of their beloved Headmaster.

"Blood, is it, Severus?" clipped Minerva, standing, her own back ramrod straight, her lips tautened as if the very sight of Snape disgusted her – as it assuredly did. Filius eyed Snape shrewdly, watching every gesture and nuance. Pomona was wide-eyed, almost stricken to receive the harsh glare to which Snape subjected her. Slughorn's gaze never left Snape as he spoke, as if he weighed and measured the quantum of Snape's words like the ingredients of a potion.

"We're not here for your convenience, Severus, I assure you. Or to peddle the blood filth of your Master," snapped Minerva. "Oh, the Ministry may have bulled and threatened each of us, but make no mistake that I came back to protect the children - of all Houses – from you and your Master's depredations!"

"Be careful, Minerva, what you say. I will, of course, report all you say to my Master. I'm sure you wouldn't wish to draw his personal attention to yourself. What would your poor Gryffindors do then – poor things?"

His tone was deadly and low, his eyes intense. As much as it cut him to the quick to see the intense hatred and – something else – betrayal, yes – in his former friends' eyes, they each had to believe he was the Dark Lord's man. Anything else would be suicide. It was vital.

"Now then," he continued, turning away from Minerva as if she were unimportant. "As much fun as it may be to bandy words with you, I hope I have impressed upon you the seriousness with which breach of the regime's rules will be viewed. Transgression will be punished – most severely."

"Severus!" Slughorn said, clearly shocked by the threatening tone. Snape held up a hand to silence him.

"Professor Snape – if you please."

With that, he knew he severed their last link. Not the child they had each taught. Not the colleague with whom they had shared banter, social evenings or any camaraderie. There must be no pleas to his former persona.

Each Head glared at him. He fancied he saw a glimmer of hardness now in Pomona's eyes which had not been there before. It was all to the good.

"Now we understand each other, to our actual business." Snape flicked his wand and the timetable parchments distributed themselves between the Heads. Minerva sat once more.

"As you undoubtedly know," said Snape, affecting a tone of complete boredom, "we have two new appointments this year. For the post of Muggle Studies -"

"What happened to Charity?" The point-blank nature of the question from Minerva caught Snape off-guard momentarily.

"She resigned. I believe that was reported in The Daily Prophet."

"Is that another euphemism for murder nowadays, Severus?" It was Filius now.

Snape stared at him, but Filius did not break his own sharp-eyed gaze. A gasp escaped Pomona.

"How could you, Severus?" hissed Minerva, her voice thick with emotion. "We were all colleagues. Friends. Is your loyalty to that … that monster so complete? Well, I suppose it must be since you slaughtered Albus!" she spat with venom, her eyes darting to the portrait of Dumbledore for support, but the portrait slumbered on.

"Enough!" barked Snape. "You will not question me that way again! Professor Burbage has gone. Alecto Carrow will be teaching in her place."

"A thug! A Muggle-killer! Have you taken leave of your senses! This is what Hogwarts is reduced to! I suppose Defence will be taught by Vol -"

Snape cast the Silencing Spell on Minerva before she could activate the Taboo, although surely she had been warned by the Order?

"Do not speak his name!" Snape said menacingly, his eyes boring into her own. Then he lifted the spell. "It's Dark Arts now, Minerva," he said smoothly. "The teacher will be Amycus Carrow."

"Dark Arts! Teaching Dark Arts to children. Surely, you can't mean …" Pomona tried to reason, but Snape cut across her repressively.

"Furthermore, the Carrows will also be in charge of discipline. You would do well to advise your charges that neither the Carrows nor I will have any tolerance for the lax discipline that previously reigned here."

Minerva spluttered in outrage, but Snape had to reinforce this one lesson, so they in turn would reinforce with their students just who would be meting out punishments and just how severe those would be. He had to banish the notion of midnight excursions or adventures or frivolity. Safety and survival was the best Snape could hope for the students of Hogwarts. And he could live with their opprobrium – now he had Lupin to console him.

oooOOOooo

"Oh Severus," sighed Lupin, as they sat together as Snape recounted the meeting. "If they knew the truth, they would do everything they could to support you. I know they would. And surely you know they can be trusted?"

"And if any of them were to let the truth slip? Or be questioned by Death Eaters under Veritaserum or under the Cruciatus? Don't you see? Their belief in me as a traitor must be absolute then all around them will believe the same."

"And next week you have to go through the same thing when the rest of the staff return." Lupin shook his head slowly, his expression was so inexpressibly tender, as he held Snape's hands in his own. "How did Albus think you would have coped with this alone? What was he thinking, marooning you like that?"

"His eye was on the end result."

"And don't we know it! Even if the result is the destruction of other lives," Lupin said bitterly.

"I suppose – I suppose he saw the downfall of the Dark Lord as setting everyone free. Whilst he lives, none of us can be live freely, Muggle-borns or others who don't believe in blood purity. Especially, people like us – you and me – can have no real life."

"You're making excuses for him," said Lupin, and then he let out a soft laugh. "I thought that was my job."

"Sometimes, I think I understand him. Then, I become so angry at the way we both have been used in this. But I don't doubt for a minute, Remus, that we need to fulfil Albus's plans if we want a life together. And that's what I want – more than anything."

"You're right, Severus. So what more can we do? I've been thinking about Muggle-borns. Is there any way we can get their identities before the Ministry does? Then maybe we could help them escape – go abroad perhaps."

"I don't think I can get access to the Ministry records. At the moment, the Ministry and Death Eaters are relying on the false reassurances in The Prophet to encourage people to register with the Commission voluntarily. Of course, it's a ruse to get them to come in. There'll be hearings but the results are foregone conclusions. Soon enough, the Muggle-borns will realise a trip to the Ministry is a one-way ticket to Azkaban and they'll refuse to register. Then … then they'll hunt them down."

The two men sat in thought for a while, then Lupin turned to Snape, excitedly.

"There's one way to identify Muggle-borns, perhaps the most vulnerable Muggle-borns of all – the children."

Snape cottoned on immediately. "The Quill!" he exclaimed. "But only Minerva has access to it."

"Even better," said Lupin conspiratorially. "Using your double bluff method: you demand access to the Quill. I'm sure she'll do everything in her power to ensure you can't have it."

A snort of laughter escaped Snape as he was caught up in the plan. "Straight after, you call an Order meeting as a matter of urgency because … say ... you've heard the real plan for Muggle-borns from the running wolves and the Order needs to determine how to identify Muggle-borns quickly. Minerva will offer that information to you in a heart beat!" added Snape.

"Exactly! I'm sure each of the Order members must have contacts who can help to smuggle the Muggle-borns to safety, out of the country, if necessary – like the freedom railways of Muggle history."

Snape looked quizzical.

"Not a literal railway. A system for moving Muggle-borns secretly – safe house to safe house," explained Lupin as his fingers curled around Snape's. Then he smiled at Snape – a smile of such depth and warmth – and of understanding.

"We'll do it in remembrance of Lily," said Lupin softly.

Snape's breath caught with the fire of possibilities that Lupin had just lit in his mind.

"Yes - for Lily."

.

A/N: Thank you for your reviews.

The history of the farmhouse is told in 'Old Friend' (of course).

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