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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
- 111
- 112
- 113
Direct quotes from Chapter 12 of DH are in bold and © J.K. Rowling

Chapter 112: Mandatory Lies and Necessary Truths

Snape knew he should leave their bed. It was 9 o'clock, hours after they normally awoke. Instead, he spooned closer to Lupin, still sleeping soundly in Snape's arms.

They had barely slept. They had spent the evening and most of the night in heated passion. Snape had found himself almost insatiable. He supposed he shouldn't be surprised. It had been months since he had taken Lupin and this was something Tonks could never take from him.

He felt a small degree of unease that his passion had been borne of possessiveness, but wasn't Lupin's too? Lupin had responded just as passionately to him and once Snape was truly spent, Lupin had fallen asleep, a beautifully contented smile on his features. Snape had slept for short stretches, only to wake to admire the man in his arms once more.

He didn't want Lupin to leave for the pack but he knew that the time to find Idris most amenable to their proposals would be after the full moon. In the light of Dumbledore's death, Lupin didn't know what kind of reception he would get from Idris, so he sent a Patronus that morning.

"Do you think he'll refuse to see you?"

"I don't know, Severus," said Lupin, as they ate their breakfast together. "I haven't seen him since the battle, but I saw Alphard after the Albus's funeral."

"He was there?" Of course, Snape had been so intent on Lupin at the funeral, he hadn't really looked around at the others attending.

"He was under a Glamour with the Whitby Werewolves. He came over to see me, and he met Dora." Snape felt a knot of sickness in his stomach. "You know that Dora is his great-niece?" Snape nodded. "She invited them back to the flat. She was very excited to meet him. Apparently, he had recently seen Andromeda but that meeting didn't go well."

"I can imagine," muttered Snape.

"We talked." Lupin's brow furrowed. "Severus, I was at my most confused then. It was before the wedding and I can barely remember what I was thinking, my brain was so addled -"

Snape reached for Lupin's hand and squeezed it. Lupin exhaled heavily.

"What Alphard thinks of us – of you and of me – I don't know, but he knows the wedding was planned. Dora invited him then and then later by Patronus. He didn't come. I don't know what reason he gave. Dora was upset, but Andromeda was pleased. In retrospect, I dare say Andromeda was thinking of that curse."

"I don't suppose that will be an issue for Idris," said Snape. "What he will want to know is if you're still mated to me – the killer of Dumbledore – the Dark Lord's man."

Lupin nodded. "So, do I let him think I am married to Dora and you and I have severed our link to get his co-operation? He's a werewolf – he knows better than that. Or do I tell him the truth of us – of you? Is that too much of a risk?"

Now it was Snape's turn to exhale heavily. It was a huge question. The only reason they had told the Tonkses was because they were caught by a Fidelius: magic would protect that knowledge from accidental dissemination. They couldn't expect a Fidelius from Idris and Alphard, but they wanted their help. They had proved themselves the Lightest of packs and could provide safe refuge and passage for those in need.

Furthermore, Snape couldn't deny that he missed the camaraderie of working with Alphard. Sharing the common purpose they had had been one of the most rewarding partnerships he had known. He couldn't deny that he'd missed those letters, full of eagerness and intelligence, or just how much he wished he had that friendship - yes friendship – back.

But could they risk it? He wasn't going to ask Dumbledore: he knew that answer would be no. He even understood why Dumbledore would say such a thing. But he had been wrong before: he had been wrong and Lupin and Snape. They were stronger together – they would always be stronger together.

They talked for hours around the subject until Lupin finally stood, clearly resolved.

"It comes down to a calculation of risk, doesn't it, Severus? Do we trust Idris and Alphard? I know I do."

"Yes," said Snape, without hesitation, "I would trust them."

"Are either of them likely to fall into Death Eater hands? Would they be tortured or Legilimised? Could our secret be ripped from them?"

"That much risk both of us take every day," said Snape. "I think it's more of a question whether they would trust me."

"That's the ultimate question. I think Idris would want to see you, to judge for himself -'

"Remus, I can't! The Jinx!"

Lupin gritted his teeth, and ran his hand through his hair. Snape could see Lupin had forgotten the Jinx's existence.

"We'll find a way," said Snape. "We'll convince him somehow."

At that moment, the large wolf Patronus of Idris sailed into Snape's quarters. Only then did Snape realise how long it had taken Idris to respond. It had clearly not been an easy decision for him.

"Ye may come, Remus Lupin. Do not breach the wards but call me out to meet you."

They had re-set their protective enchantments then. And excluded Lupin. Snape couldn't blame them but nor could he deny the growing worry of Lupin entering a pack of werewolves who clearly no longer trusted him.

oooOOOooo

That evening, Kingsley called Lupin to an Order meeting. While he was gone, Snape busied himself reading over the curriculum documents from the other teachers. There was no need with the established teachers, but he made all the teachers submit them so he could see what the Carrows proposed.

The lesson plans for the re-named Dark Arts were hardly extensive nor could they be considered even educational. There was no theory of curses or counter-curses, no spell creation theory. There was an element of defence insofar as offence could possibly count as defensive. Snape could barely read the units on Dark Creatures without flinching that each was dealt with by death, rather than detection and deterrence. By the fourth year lesson plans, real Dark curses were to be introduced including the Cruciatus. For the fifth year, the Imperius Curse was to be part of the new OWL. For NEWTs, Fiendfyre. His stomach roiled. It took skill and an iron will to control Fiendfyre - it was not a curse for school children to dabble with! He couldn't read any more of that.

He put those to one side and picked up the lesson plans for Muggle Studies, now compulsory for all students. With growing dismay, he read the barely literate notes of the similarity between Muggles and animals, of their lack of hygiene and stupidity and their viciousness towards magical folk and how oppressing them would restore the natural order once more.

Snape ran his palm over his face. How would he deal with this? How could he curtail it without giving away his true allegiance? He would have to plan carefully.

By the time Lupin returned, Snape was thoroughly sickened by what he had read but Lupin seemed to have renewed confidence in their plans.

Lupin told Snape that the meeting had been lively. They had agreed that various members of the Order would be stationed in those parts of the country already designated as part of their escape routes. Kingsley had agreed to cover Southampton and Portsmouth, Lupin would go to the pack in Snowdonia as a pathway to the ports to Ireland, Daedalus and Hestia would take turns rotating their watches over the Dursleys with charge over the route from Harwich to the Hook of Holland. Bill and Fleur had agreed to be stationed over City Airport, a smaller airport, less likely to draw the attention of the authorities. Charlie Weasley was now Bill's contact in Romania through Gringotts.

Added to this, they had already set another six families on their journeys abroad. There was at least some optimism that they could help those most in need, even if their own numbers were too depleted to oust the Death Eaters from power.

"Did you have any difficulty from her?" asked Snape, almost unable to help himself.

"Just one comment," Lupin shrugged as if it was of no consequence.

"Which was?"

Lupin sighed. "She said she thought I might like to know that she wasn't sick at the full moon. She had thought if I cared about the baby at all, I would have asked."

"Did you tell her you already knew?"

"I told her I knew. I didn't tell her how."

Snape made to protest. He wanted to rub her nose in it. He couldn't help it – he just did, but Lupin shook his head.

"No Severus. It's our business what we share – not hers!" Lupin bridled. "She's taken too much from us already!" Lupin then softened. "I do understand how you feel, Severus, but please let this just be about us. If I'm leaving for the pack tomorrow, I don't want this night to have anything to do with Tonks."

Lupin held Snape's face with his outstretched hand and kissed him – a demanding kiss – a silencing kiss – a kiss that would brook no argument. And why would Snape argue? He kissed back, becoming more demanding himself because this time was his time and, come the morning, he would have to cede to Lupin because he would join the pack once more. He grasped Lupin to himself, digging his fingers hard into Lupin's backside as he felt Lupin's erection grow against his stomach and felt his own stiffen as his desire flamed.

If he had given any thought to Tonks a minute ago, it was gone from his mind now. Everything was gone from his mind. Only the hot, passionate kiss and moulding together of their bodies mattered to him now.

oooOOOooo

If Snape could have kept Lupin from going, he would have. He knew it was selfish but he couldn't deny that it was what he truly felt. But he also knew that if prevented Lupin leaving, he would be proving Dumbledore right: that they would put their love before the cause. He would never let Dumbledore's enforced separation of them be vindicated. But he watched Lupin packing his a duffle bag anxiously.

"Any sign of trouble – any at all, come home," instructed Snape. "You have your mirror? Remember, Tippy can find you." He handed over a set of Potions phials, just as he always used to. Lupin gave Snape a soft smile.

"I'll be careful. You know me."

"That's the trouble - I do know you, you insufferable Gryffindor! Dear Merlin, Remus. Please stay safe."

Lupin pressed a kiss to Snape's lips and they leant their foreheads together.

"You're a fine one to talk, Severus," he whispered as he ran the backs of his finger gently over Snape's Dark Mark and kissed him again. "Promise me you'll do the same."

"I promise I'll try."

oooOOOooo

It had felt like the longest day of Snape's life as he waited for Lupin to call through the mirror. The time seemed to pass with a turgid slowness. Every duty seemed onerous and every movement, ponderous.

When had he become such a fearful man? Lupin had undertaken many dangerous missions before. Snape had to admit, he had always feared for Lupin's safety, but he had also now tasted what his life would be like without him – and he had hated it.

The time ticked by – past lunch, past dinner, past midnight. Snape didn't even think of undressing for bed. What if Lupin needed him? What if Tippy sounded the alarm? Past 2 a.m. Past 3 a.m. He kept repeating the same mantra to himself as he paced the floor:

They wouldn't hurt him.

They couldn't hurt him.

At 4 in the morning, he heard Lupin call his name. His hand snatched the mirror. Frantically, he searched Lupin's face for any sign – any mark – of violence, but he found none.

"Remus! Are you all right?"

"Yes. Yes. I'm fine, Severus," Lupin said, his eyes warm and a reassuring smile playing on his lips. "I'm sorry it's so late. There was so much so explain – so much they wanted to ask. Quite a lot of explaining to do about Dora to Alphard as well. But, I think it's going to be okay, Severus. I really think it is."

The relief Snape heard in Lupin's voice told him more than words ever could: it told him Lupin had had to use every ounce of persuasion he had.

"Where are you now?"

"Alphard let me use his tent to call you. I knew you'd be worried. I have to go back. There's still so much they want to know – Idris and his sons and Betas. There have been many changes here. Many for the worse. You-Know-Who's grip is felt, even here."

"Go then," said Snape, relieved himself that Lupin was unharmed and accepted, "and call me when you can."

Lupin didn't call again until mid-morning, now looking weary but satisfied.

"Idris has agreed to provide a transit point and safe haven. Obviously, we are going to put in safety measures before the next full moon. We've a lot of arranging to do. Both Alphard and Idris want to talk you but I've explained you can't come here. Alphard was going to come to you but Idris won't allow him to leave, not now there are snatchers about, even around Snowdon!"

Snape felt his blood run cold. As strange as it sounded, he feared seeing either man – what must they think, about Dumbledore, about Tonks?

"What of the curse, the Lydiard Curse? Did you speak to them?"

"I told Alphard. He said he'd heard about from Andromeda but hadn't believed it. He was very upset when I told him about his brother's portrait. I think he wants to speak to you before he speaks to Idris."

"They know I can't travel."

"Yes. We must find a way. Even if it's just for us. I saw the farmhouse, Severus. Our home. Wouldn't it be a fine place for us to spend the next full moon?"

Snape agreed, smiling at the hopeful look on Lupin's face.

Our home.

He could think of nowhere finer.

They talked for hours until Snape had to finish. He was scheduled to give an interview to The Daily Prophet, as painful as that might be. The Dark Lord would expect a show for the papers. Lupin had agreed to resume his nightly watch duties and they agreed they would speak in the early mornings. If all went to plan, Lupin would be home in a week.

oooOOOooo

There was a flash of light and a quick burst of smoke from the camera flash which the photographer wafted away with his hand as Rita Skeeter's talon-like nails drummed on the walnut of the Headmaster's desk impatiently. Snape saw the Carrow twins from the Headmaster's study where their photographs had been taken then spun to face Rita.

"Stop that," snapped Snape, startling Rita. Her pencilled eyebrow rose as she assessed Snape. Then a false smile spread.

"Did you like my book about your predecessor?" Rita smirked, as if she were somehow conspiring with Snape. No doubt she had heard the rumours that Snape had been suspected of Dumbledore's killing but Snape would not encourage her companionable overtures – to Snape, she was no more than a bottom-feeder, a press guttersnipe. He read the green writing appearing on the parchment to her side. He sighed. Did she think reading writing upside down was not the particular skill of every teacher?

Severus Snape, long-standing Potions master and nemesis (and indeed boggart) of many a school child, has achieved a position that none would have guessed that a man of such limited social standing in the Wizarding world could ever achieve …

Snape flicked his wand and the acid green quill and the parchment on which it wrote crumbled into a heap of smouldering ash.

"Madam Skeeter. I recommend a little more care dealing with me and this … regime. There will be little tolerance for those who find themselves unable to conform. I trust I make myself understood."

"Well, I'm sure nothing was intended. No need for unpleasantness now, is there?" she simpered, but her eyes were hard and calculating.

"Indeed not."

"May I get another quill?" Rita opened the clasp on her large handbag, her smile still fixed.

Snape inclined his head but with a barely suppressed sneer.

Rita slowly withdrew a quill – an ordinary dictation quill this time - and her smile broadened.

"Shall we?" she said, her quill poised over another roll of journalistic parchment. Snape began to speak and the quill raced across the parchment, this time quoting him verbatim.

"I welcome the opportunity to uphold our finest wizarding traditions and values," said Snape, smoothly. "Hogwarts has been teaching the great witches and wizards of our country for a millennium. The great and honourable task now falls to me to ensure that only the best teaching will be available to only the best and most deserving of magical kind."

It choked him to say it, the implied blood purity in those lines, but there was no way around it. Everyone was now required to nail their colours to the mast. The irony was that he must put away duplicitous words if he was to be successful in this act of ultimate duplicity.

oooOOOooo

It was the first time he had taken breakfast with the staff. The pupils would arrive in the evening and Snape now had to ensure that he attended every meal and made his presence felt – not so much with the pupils, but with the staff. He was sure if he could keep them in line, the children should follow – or so he hoped.

As his kippers with bread and butter appeared, The Daily Prophet was delivered by the owls. The article appeared exactly as Rita had been instructed. He felt a curious mixture of revulsion and regret as he looked at his scowling photograph on the front page and the screaming headline: SEVERUS SNAPE CONFIRMED AS HOGWARTS HEADMASTER. Why couldn't he have headlines for his improvements to the Wolfsbane Potion or his rediscovery and refinement of the Electio Potion – something of which he could be proud?

Snape couldn't fail to notice the unguarded glances of dislike which were shot his way. Since Filch had put up the posters around the school declaring Potter, UNDESIRABLE NO. 1, the rest of the staff had barely contained their outrage. The newspaper headlines merely consolidated that outrage. He wore his most bored expression as he folded his paper very deliberately to read another column even as the Carrows nudged each other, guffawing with arrogance at their own photographs.

The Dark Lord had summoned more Death Eaters to keep a watch at Grimmauld Place. Snape wondered why. Surely it was obvious that Potter would not be returning to Hogwarts this year. The very idea struck Snape as absurd.

Snape had exaggerated the duties he had to fulfil this day so he would not be called upon for this fool's errand. The duties on the day of arrival actually weren't that onerous as a great deal had been accomplished between himself and Lupin, not to mention the amount of administration which Minerva undertook as a matter of course. He did, however, inspect the grounds, the kitchens and the Houses to check all was in order.

He maintained a carefully studied air of disinterested arrogance as each Head of House showed him around in his capacity as Headmaster, showing particular disdain for the House of Godric Gryffindor. He saw the resentment in eyes of Minerva, the betrayal. He saw the determination to thwart him in the iron rod-stiffness of her back as she held his gaze.

What he would have given to have been just Severus Snape, Head of Slytherin House again. They would be rolling their eyes at each other at Dumbledore's small talk – gentle, if wry, conspirators against Dumbledore's more outlandish faux-folly.

Those days were gone.

Her eyes were hard and unforgiving – Snape had no doubt he was a worse criminal in her eyes than the Dark Lord himself. He dearly wished she knew the truth. But he was certain – foolishly brave Gryffindor that she was – as brave as any – as strong an ally as she would be, she was no Occlumens and nor would she be able to resist Veritaserum or the Cruciatus. Better she not know.

After the final inspection, Snape retired to the Headmaster's office, leaving the rest of the staff to meet in the staff room without him. He took tea from Tippy as he sat at the ornate desk and read once again the list of students attending this year.

There were new names added to existing years: names of students who had previously been taught at home. That was forbidden now. The Dark Lord wanted all magical young (or at least those he considered worthy) to be under his control at Hogwarts. The Heads of House expected there to be manifold difficulties dealing with these children, transplanted into a system they didn't know and which their parents, for whatever reason, had previously shunned. Minerva had requested special classes be allotted for orientation which Snape had derided for the benefit of the Carrows. Of course, it was an excellent idea and Snape had ensured there was proper co-ordination through the years, but not without letting Minerva know how very much he resented such 'pandering to people too dunderheaded or pampered for school.' She had bridled even as the Carrows had laughed at her expense. Snape hated himself for it but, at least, she had got what she needed.

He looked at the list again. There should have been seven Muggle-born first year students this year. He stared at their names, struck through by the Ministry. Then he looked at the lists for the other years. Totalling the seven years together, fifty-three Muggle-borns would not be attending Hogwarts this year. Snape wondered where they were this day. Were they safe? Or were some of them already wandless and maybe held in Azkaban? He felt so useless.

"Headmaster!"

Snape turned to see Phineas Nigellus leaning forward urgently, clearly outraged. "The Mudblood -"

"Don't say that word!" Snape spat, already feeling quite brittle.

"The Granger girl – she has taken my portrait from Grimmauld Place. She has placed it in her bag!"

"Excellent!" said Dumbledore, clapping his hands together. "Now you are our best hope for obtaining information, Phineas. Visit regularly and see what you can ascertain!"

The small silver bell rang and the portraits fell silent.

Minerva arrived and addressed him brusquely.

"It's time, Headmaster."

With a curt nod to Snape, she Levitated the Sorting Hall onto the ceremonial cushion and Snape handed over the list of the names of the new first years. Minerva scanned the list and Snape just knew she was recalling those names which should have appeared there. Her eyes flashed then she nodded and departed as abruptly as she had come to wait in the Great Hall.

Snape stood and breathed deeply to steady his nerves. This day should have been the pinnacle of his teaching career: that he, a Northern working-class half-blood, had scaled the heights to become Headmaster of Hogwarts Witchcraft and Wizardry. It was certainly how everyone would expect him to think. Yet, he felt such a charlatan – felt every inch as if he had murdered his way to power.

"Courage, Severus," said Dumbledore, as if a portrait could sense Snape's hesitance. "Play your part. We here all understand – and support you."

Snape looked at all his predecessors, not one of whom now slept. He nodded to them, feeling perhaps a little less brittle, and, setting his expression once more to arrogance, he strode out and down to the Great Hall itself.

He swept down the stairs and met the Carrow twins at the great oaken doors and they flanked him as he strode to his place – to Dumbledore's place.

There would be no flippant few words that Dumbledore used to make the youngest children laugh, no stirring speeches about unity against the Dark Arts. The food would be lavish, the new children would be enchanted – but this was a different Hogwarts now.

oooOOOooo

Whatever Snape had expected of the second day of term, it had not been this.

Barely through mid-morning, Snape received a harassed Floo call from Travers at the Ministry telling him to get to Grimmauld Place as soon as possible: Yaxley had breached the Fidelius.

When he had pulled his head away from the Floo, he saw Dumbledore anxiously hovering in his own portrait.

"If the boy had been there, it would have been the first thing Yaxley said," said Snape reassuringly as he grabbed his summer cloak.

"Severus?" Dumbledore called. Snape stopped just as he reached the door of his office. "If Harry is not there, be careful of Tom. He will be angry."

Snape inhaled deeply. As if he needed telling!

Snape Disapparated from the gates of Hogwarts to a mews behind Grimmauld Place then made his way quickly into the square. He could see Yaxley, of course, standing in the doorway but he stared as if he still could not see number twelve. Yaxley came hurrying towards him and where Snape knew the Fidelius ended, he allowed himself to show surprise at Yaxley's appearance.

"How?" Snape asked snappishly.

"They went to the Ministry – the three of them – under Polyjuice. Attacked me and Umbridge and freed the Mudbloods."

"Freed the … that's why they were there?" asked Snape incredulously.

"Why else? A whole day's worth of trials, escaped – all in the wind now. Suppose he's setting himself up as some kind of hero!" Yaxley sneered. "Well, he won't get any publicity from that. Travers is telling that story to The Prophet right now, how he free convicted criminals to help him on the run"

Snape couldn't believe what he was hearing. Had Potter really endangered whatever mission Dumbledore had given him to be so idiotically heroic? Well, it wouldn't surprise him that the boy would be so reckless of others' sacrifices to have got him so far.

"And then?" asked Snape impatiently.

"Like I said, he attacked us in the courtroom but before that, he'd tripped an alarm in Umbridge's office by removing that eye – you know the one the Dark Lord gave to Umbridge for thinking up the Commission. Anyway, we chased them and I caught hold of the Mudblood – she took me right inside the Charm! She must have realised what she'd done because she moved off again as soon as I realised where I was. Nice trick if you can pull it off."

So, he was looking for something in Umbridge's office. Snape dearly wished he knew what it was but he covered his intrigue.

"Admiring Muggle-borns now, are we, Yaxley?" enquired Snape, but then his tone hardened. "So why have you called me?"

"There's a jinx – I think you need to break it. It says your name! Then we can search the place."

Of course, Snape knew about Moody's jinx. He also knew that Yaxley should be able to break it as easily as he could but Yaxley was a craven coward. Perhaps Snape could use that to his advantage.

"Leave me then," said Snape dismissively, and let himself through the door that Yaxley had opened and closed it in the other man's face.

"Severus Snape?"

Snape fought the Tongue-Tying Hex and then incanted, "Confringo!"

The dust apparition blew apart and Snape smelt a distinctive and pleasant aroma of cooking overlaying the smell of decay and mould of the hallway. He wondered briefly if there could be another Order member here. His heart skipped a beat and he raised his wand and quickly entered the kitchen.

"Homenum revelio!"

There was no-one, but now he could identify the aroma: steak and kidney pie. It smelt wonderful. But who …?

He heard a slight scraping noise and quickly raised his wand again and pulled the cupboard door open. It was the demented old house-elf, Kreacher. But this Kreacher was a very different house-elf to the one he had last seen before Black had died.

Kreacher was spotlessly clean, including the bright white towel he wore, and he wore a locket around his neck. Now that Snape looked around himself, even the kitchen shone as he had never seen it. Clearly, something fundamental had changed between Potter and this house-elf.

"Who is your Master?"

The house-elf cowered to the back of his cupboard.

"Master is Harry Potter. Where is Master Harry?" the old elf croaked, looking behind Snape hopefully as if he might be hiding Potter. There was none of the old animosity or bile. The elf was concerned and Snape was sure the concern was genuine. Well, he couldn't let the elf be found by Yaxley. Who knew what he might be forced to reveal?

"Your master has had to hide, Kreacher. Do you remember when you worked in the kitchens of Hogwarts?"

The elf nodded.

"I am now Headmaster. Go there now. You will be safe until your master calls you once more."

Kreacher looked at Snape appraisingly and then, without another word but with a loud crack, Kreacher Disapparated.

Snape could only conjecture about the change in the house-elf or what the locket around the creature's neck might mean. Perhaps Dumbledore would know. But, for the time being, he put that from his mind and quickly made a search of the house from top to bottom. He found notes – mainly in Granger's handwriting, books on Wizarding history with book marks and roughly drafted maps. There was no way he could keep any of it safe for them so he Vanished it all.

He returned to the kitchen and took the steak and kidney pie from the oven and the treacle tart that was below it and placed it on the kitchen table. Then he went to the hallway and cast over the place where Moody had snt his Jinxes and Bound them. It would be the least that Yaxley would expect. Snape strode to the front door and flung it wide. Yaxley was leaning against the porch wall, Travers and Macnair waited on the steps behind.

"You took your time," accused Travers. Snape ignored him.

"I've dealt with the curses," said Snape. "I need to get back to the school. Watch the library - many books are cursed."

"What's that smell?" interrupted Travers.

"The traitors' dinner, it would appear." Snape wrinkled his nose with distaste. "Steak and kidney pie."

Travers' eyes lit up and he rubbed his hands together and pushed past Snape, making straight for the kitchen. Snape had known he would. If they stuffed their faces now, it would be difficult for them to accuse him of having taken his time disabling the curses. Without further discussion, Snape Disapparated from the top step.

ooOOOooo

He heard their nervous whispers as they tried to make their way down the spiral stairs. Idiot children! What kind of recklessness made children think they were capable of breaking into the Headmaster's office undetected?

Still whispering to each other to take care, they reached the final step where Snape waited with his wand drawn level with their faces.

"What do we have here?" he said silkily, his sneer broadening as Longbottom's eyes crossed trying to focus on the wand aimed between his eyes. Miss Weasley and Miss Lovegood both stared slack-jawed from behind Longbottom, Miss Lovegood's eyes wide but Miss Weasley's expression quickly became hard and defiant. He would have expected no less.

Snape flicked his wand in a gesture for them to turn around and return to his office. Each of them turned and walked up the stairs to stand in a row in front of his desk. Snape glowered at Dumbledore's portrait not to interfere and then turned quickly to Longbottom and held out his hand. His eyebrow slowly rose as the boy's jaw set and his fist clenched harder around the hilt he held.

So, now we finally see the Gryffindor, thought Snape.

"It's not your sword," hissed Miss Weasley, although Snape could see the tremble in her jaw that betrayed the adrenaline now coursing through her body. "It doesn't belong to you."

"And to whom do you suppose the Sword of Gryffindor does belong in your infinite wisdom, Miss Weasley?" queried Snape, genuinely interested in what could have provoked these students to attempt to steal from a Death Eater's office in the middle of the day. And how had they known he had been called away? He looked deliberately slowly at the Sword's case by his desk. "It has resided in that case for hundreds of years. Why do you suppose you are entitled to re-house it?"

"It's Harry's. Harry Potter!" interjected Longbottom. "Professor Dumbledore left it to him. You've no right to keep it from him!"

"Did he now? How interesting. Of course," said Snape softly so they had to strain to hear him, "it was not Professor Dumbledore's to give away. I trust you understand that."

A quick flick of Snape's wand and Longbottom released the hilt that burnt his hand and Snape seized it, leering unpleasantly. His eyes never left Longbottom's as he Levitated the Sword tantalisingly slowly back to its case and closed the casing with several silent spells. He walked slowly behind his desk and placed his hands behind his back seeing the increasing nervousness in the two students, even if Miss Lovegood looked around herself in a most unconcerned manner and then seemed to fix on the portrait of Dumbledore.

"Your attention, if you please, Miss Lovegood," Snape hissed.

Her protuberant eyes returned to him, deceptively blank, but Snape knew better. He also knew they had just inadvertently given him valuable information. Were he truly loyal to the Dark Lord, he would report the attempted bequest without delay, but he was not loyal. Whilst he didn't know why Dumbledore had tried to leave the Sword to Potter, he had to ensure these children thought twice about what they said about Potter in the future. They had to understand that careless talk could cost lives, Potter's and their own.

"Where is Harry Potter?" he demanded.

The teenagers shot worried glances at each other.

"Come now. You said the Sword was for Mr. Potter so you must know. Well, where is he?"

"We don't know," said Longbottom. Snape glared at him murderously, willing Longbottom to quail before him – but he did not. Snape leant forward on his hands across the desk, his eyes still locked with Longbottom's.

"But you tried to steal the Sword for him. Why did you do that if you don't know where he is, hm?" He snatched up his wand and cast a quick Expelliarmus and their three wands flew to him. He moved quickly around the desk, startling them by his silent speed. As they reflexively retreated backwards, he Immobilised the two girls and confronted Longbottom.

"Where is Harry Potter?"

"We don't know. We were going to keep the Sword 'til we could find a way to get it to him."

"You expect me to believe that? What, would you hide it in your trunk until Potter shows up late for the start of term?" He loomed over Longbottom from the raised dias, remembering that he was once the boy's boggart and, summoning his most unpleasant sneer, began to shout. "Don't be absurd, Longbottom! Tell me the truth! Where is he?"

Longbottom's jaw jutted in defiance even though Snape could see a flicker of childhood fear being repressed. The boy had come far over these years.

"Don't try to play games with me, Longbottom. Perhaps … perhaps, I should just … take … the information I want -" He pointed his wand at Longbottom's face once more. Then he switched it to Miss Weasley's face, a sadistic smile broadening. "I could strip it from her mind as easily as I took her wand. I wonder how Mr. Potter would feel about that -"

"I'm telling the truth! Don't touch her, you -"

"Yes, Mr. Longbottom? What am I?" asked Snape, his face a supercilious mask.

"Just don't touch her! Do that to me if you have to, just don't touch them like that! Don't hurt their minds," he pleaded desperately.

"Ah, 'daring, nerve and chivalry set Gryffindors apart!' How … predictable." Snape smirked, even though his mind recoiled from what he had just done. To threaten Longbottom, of all people, with scrambling his friends' minds had been cruel. But better Snape threatening than the Carrows making good the threat.

"I assure you, Longbottom, being in your tiny mind would be enough to induce claustrophobia. There is an easier way."

Silently, Snape Summoned Veritaserum from his store and held the crystal phial up before him.

"Three drops for you and then, each of your friends. Then – if I'm satisfied – we'll discuss your punishment."

Longbottom swallowed heavily, his lips pursed tightly. Then he nodded, resigned to his fate.

oooOOOooo

Lupin had listened to the whole tale, his eyes wide and concerned. He made no comment but Snape had seen him blanch as the tale proceeded. Snape wished they were speaking in person so he could reassure him.

"Severus," Lupin said softly, "were they hurt?"

"No. I frightened them. And they need to be frightened. They need to understand this is not a game for school children. I had to be seen to punish them."

"Yes," said Lupin, his voice becoming faint and his face drawn with anxiety. "What was their punishment?"

"I didn't allow them back to their Houses after I had dosed them with Veritaserum but sent them straight to the Forbidden Forest with Hagrid."

Snape could help the smile that tugged at the corners of his mouth as he saw Lupin's confusion.

"But that's no punishment! Hagrid will look after them, see they're fed, and I'm sure they've been in the Forbidden Forest before and …" Lupin's voice tailed away and his own smile formed in response to Snape's.

"You know that. I know that. The kids know that, Remus. But who do we know who won't know that? Who do we know who will think being assigned to a half-breed in the Forbidden Forest, full of Dark Creatures is a fate no pure-blooded child should have to endure?"

"The Carrows," Lupin laughed.

Snape nodded. "By the time this story has done the rounds, I, Professor Snape, will have punished them most cruelly." Snape sighed. "Meanwhile, let them think they've got one over me at least. As long as they remember to offer no information on Potter in the future then that's a start."

"Has Albus told you why he wants the Sword kept secret?"

"No. Each time I ask he just says, 'It's not time.' I have no idea what that means. He obviously expected problems with the Sword and that's why he copied it. Now we need to ensure that doesn't happen again. I'm thinking of sending the false sword to one of the vaults in Gringotts and letting it slip so everyone knows - maybe Malfoy's or …"

"Send it to the Lestrange vault, if you can," broke in Lupin excitedly.

"What?"

"Have you managed to break the Tracing Jinx yet?"

Now, it was Snape's turn to be confused by the apparently random change in subject.

"I … well, I've tried– I'm not powerful enough. I don't know how to break it. What -"

"I do," said Lupin quietly, a smile breaking across his face. "I know what has the power."

Snape couldn't help but respond to that smile that made his pulse quicken.

"When we were still at school, Sirius used to tell us about his trips to the family vault." Snape rolled his eyes, but Lupin just smiled at him affectionately. "The Black vault, like the Lestrange vault, is in the depths of Gringotts. You need to ensure that you take the Sword to the Lestrange vault, personally."

"But why?"

If possible, Lupin's smile became brighter still.

"The Thief's Downfall, Severus! Even You-Know-Who's jinx can't survive it: it strips away all enchantments."

A/N: Thanks for reviewing. It's always appreciated.

There will be more on the meeting between Lupin and Idris when Lupin returns, but it will be recounted fully in the next chapter of 'Old Friend' to be posted later this week.
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