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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
- 112
- 113
- 114
Direct quotes from Chapter 26 of DH are in bold and © J.K. Rowling

I'm so sorry for the delay. August was a terrible month, with a loss of a very dear friend.

This story is dedicated to him – to Thomas.
Warning: M/M. Don't like, don't read.

Chapter 113: A Way Forward
It had been relatively easy to secure the use of the Lestrange vault.
As soon as Snape advised the Dark Lord of the incursion into his office and the attempt to steal the Sword, the Dark Lord's interest was piqued.
"Dumbledore left this artefact to Harry Potter?" queried the Dark Lord.
"He did, my Lord. However, I was unable to get the reason from the Longbottom fool. He is, at best, a moron. I wouldn't put it past these ridiculous Gryffindors to try again."
Bellatrix sniggered, as Snape knew she would, but he could see the Dark Lord wasn't interested in his tirade against Longbottom.
"I wonder why," mused the Dark Lord, his red eyes glinting. "The old man may have done something to it for the boy. Did you cast revealing incantations on it?"
"I did, my Lord. I could find nothing. Perhaps, it's just the symbol of Gryffindor – a rallying point for other Gryffindors."
"Foolish old man!" spat the Dark Lord. "Did he truly think the symbol of a Founder would help the boy? Well, he shan't have it."
Snape bowed. "The only other place that has appropriate security is Gringotts, my Lord -"
"Our vault stands ready for your use again, my Lord!" interrupted Bellatrix, desperate for his attention. The Dark Lord's attention snapped to her and he hissed his anger and Bellatrix cowered under his glare. Snape pretended to be oblivious but he couldn't help but wonder for what the Dark Lord had already required the use of the Lestrange vault.
"A vault with such enhanced security would be most appropriate, if you agree, my Lord," said Snape, silkily.
The Dark Lord continued to glare at Bellatrix for an uncomfortably long time then he slowly turned to Snape.
"Very well. Arrange it with Bellatrix." With that, the Dark Lord swept from the room.
"Just send it with one of the house-elves," said Bellatrix, recovering enough to sneer imperiously at Snape.
"No," said Snape softly. "I will see to it personally … unless of course there is a reason I should not accompany this important historical artefact."
oooOOOooo
With the fake sword which Dumbledore had forged under his light summer cloak, Snape waited for the wizard guard to run the Probity Probe over him and then over Rodolphus Lestrange, who fumed at the indignity heaped upon his Pure-blood status.
It was Bellatrix who had insisted that Rodolphus accompany Snape, with insinuations that a poor half-blood such as he could not possibly be trusted around such treasures as the Lestrange vault contained. Snape had ignored the insults – he had only one true purpose and it would be worth putting up with Bellatrix's petulance.
Two goblins came to accompany them to the lower levels: Bogrod, a manager, and Griphook, a senior cashier.
"How dare you delay us like this," snapped Rodolphus. "Do you still really think you have any independence from our Lord that you can plays games with us?" He tripped Griphook with the tip of his foot and laughed unpleasantly as the goblin struggled to right himself. Snape saw the goblin snarl then realised the noise was Gobbledegook and sounded to Snape very much like an imprecation, but Snape said nothing. Let Rodolphus make enemies if that's what he wanted to do. Snape was impatient to get along.
"Enough of this," he huffed, and strode onwards. "I don't have time to waste."
Bogrod barked something at Griphook and they jogged after him and the four of them mounted the waiting cart.
With a jerk the cart moved off, gathering speed: they hurtled along then the cart began twisting and turning through the labyrinthine passages, sloping downwards all the time. They swerved between stalactites, flying ever deeper into the earth.
Snape had never been so deep within Gringotts: this was the world of the ancient Pure-blood families, forever closed to the likes of him. There was a time when he coveted these trappings of the upper echelons of the Wizarding world, but not anymore. All he thought of now was being free to live his life in that farmhouse in Wales. Anything else would just be hollow Glamours - he knew what mattered now.
They took a hairpin bend at speed and then he saw ahead of them, with seconds to spare, a waterfall pounding over the track. This is what Lupin had described to him. They zoomed through it. Water filled Snape's eyes and mouth: he could not see or breathe. For a split second, he felt as if he had been bodily stripped of something but then the feeling passed and the cart sped and twisted around a chasm holding a gigantic dragon, its colour drained by years of captivity.
"What was that?" Snape demanded of Bogrod, hoping that feeling was the Tracing Jinx being stripped away.
"The Thief's Downfall," Bogrod replied. "It washes away all enchantment, all magical concealment. Had there been any concealment or enchantments designed for theft, we would have been ejected from the cart and the guards alerted."
The cart drew to a halt and Snape, Rodolphus and Bogrod left the cart, leaving Griphook at the helm. Snape cast a charm to dry himself and then removed the Sword from under his cloak. As he did so, he saw the goblin's eyes narrow as he looked at it and then his eyes darted up to Snape's. Snape was sure he saw a calculating look slide into a sneer. Could he know?
"Come then, Professor Snape," chided Bogrod. Snape's attention snapped back to Bogrod, who stood before a large wooden door. Bogrod pressed his palm to the wood, and the door of the vault melted away to reveal a cave-like opening crammed from floor to ceiling with golden coins and goblets, silver armour, the skins of strange creatures, some with long spines, others with drooping wings, potions in jewelled flasks which Snape would dearly like to have investigated, and a skull still wearing a crown. Snape wondered what curse the crown carried to still be attached to the head of its last bearer.
There was a muffled clunk and Snape spun around to see the door reappearing, sealing them inside the vault and plunging them into total darkness.
"Lumos!" Both Rodolphus and Snape's wands lit up in the same instant as Bogrod lit a torch.
"Place that," Rodolphus pointed to the Sword, "where you wish. Touch nothing. We have plenty of extra security measures in here."
Snape ignored the insult and looked for a discreet place – a place where the Sword would not be readily seen. He did not want to call attention to it. Above a vast heap of glittering jewels he saw a high shelf with a jumble of chains upon it. It was perfect: the jewels would distract anyone looking around.
With a flick and swish of his wand, he Levitated the fake Sword to lie in amongst the heap of chains. Bogrod gave him a nasty smile. Snape nodded. His business here was done and as soon as his duties at Hogwarts permitted, he would be with Lupin. There was nothing Rodolphus could throw at him now that could dampen his spirits.
oooOOOooo
The Carrows were in charge of discipline, but Snape ensured that he laid the ground rules. He was Headmaster and he would not have his authority challenged, by staff or students.
Snape set a rota for patrols. Lights-out would be rigorously enforced. Patrols would be carried out every hour on the hour. Snape ensured that when it was the Carrows' night for patrols, they had the easiest patrol, partly to keep them thinking he had given them special consideration but, in reality, to ensure any serious rule-breaking would be dealt with by the other teachers: ones who wouldn't dream of using the Cruciatus curse on children for being out of bed!
Snape took the early morning patrol. He found he didn't sleep as well without Lupin by his side anyway. It was better than lying awake and it suited him to stalk the corridors when the castle was at its most eerie and dream-like. By the time his patrol was over, he would call Lupin with the mirror and his day would dawn as his mood would lighten, fortified for the day.
He had wanted to spend more time talking to Lupin through the mirror, but Tippy had interrupted to say that the Carrows were on their way to his office, clearly very angry.
Snape and Lupin said rushed good-byes and Snape quickly dressed and took the Floo to the Headmaster's study with only minutes to spare.
The Carrow twins burst through the door.
"'Ere, Snape! Look at this!" growled Amycus.
"We confiscated it – from that dopey Ravenclaw – what's 'er name?" interrupted Alecto.
"You know the one – 'er father produces this rag!" her brother continued as he threw a rolled up copy of The Quibbler on Snape's desk.
"Lovegood," supplied Snape as his picked up the magazine, ignoring the twins' threats of torture to the girl as his eyes widened as he read.
'WHO HAS THE REAL POWER AT THE MINISTRY?
'Following the sudden, indeed shocking, departure of Rufus Scrimgeour from the highest office in magical Britain and the institution of our new Minister for Magic in a swift but silent coup, we note that Pius Thicknesse's previous post as Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement has been filled with equally alarming alacrity. His replacement is Hector Yaxley. Readers may recall that he was tried as a Death Eater after the last Wizarding War but pleaded not guilty as a victim of the Imperius Curse. Surely, it is noteworthy that Mr. Yaxley's rise to power coincides with that of You-Know-Who. His second-in-command is Dorian Travers, another war criminal, newly-cleared of charges for which he spent over 14 years in Azkaban after being tried by the full Wizengamot.
'As if it were not worrying enough that the Department of Magical Law Enforcement is controlled by You-Know-Who's followers but now our own children have been delivered into the hands of another known Death Eater, Severus Snape, implicated by Harry Potter in the cold-blooded slaughter of Albus Dumbledore.
'The Ministry will try to tell you that Harry Potter is suspected of that murder. They use their mouthpiece, The Daily Prophet, to tell you this lie. The Quibbler reminds its readers how the Ministry and The Daily Prophet tried to undermine the truth that Harry Potter told before. It lied then and it lies now.
'We therefore must ask the age-old question then: Who will Guard the Guardians?
'WE AT 'THE QUIBBLER' URGE ALL WHO VALUE THEIR LIBERTY TO SUPPORT HARRY POTTER!'
Snape blinked fast, taking in the picture of a smiling Harry Potter, shot for the Triwizard Championship. He could barely believe his eyes.
He and Lupin had occasionally taken The Quibbler because it carried Runic puzzles which were really quite challenging. It was actually a habit he'd picked up from Dumbledore who boasted that Xenophilius Lovegood had been one of the brightest Ancient Runes students Hogwarts had ever had. Lupin would chuckle quite immoderately at the stories of fanciful creatures Lovegood always espoused, even though Snape found himself beyond irritated. But now … this! Was the man mad? Was he suicidal?
When Potter had given his story to The Quibbler in defiance of Umbridge, Snape had been scornful at first but he quickly saw that it had been a stroke of genius. Potter had got his version of the return of the Dark Lord out in spite of Fudge and his minions. Unfortunately, the Dark Lord had still had months of Ministry-backed disbelief in which to regain supporters and make new alliances within the Ministry. However, Lovegood's belief in Potter had been vindicated and The Daily Prophet had even bought the story from him.
If Lovegood believed his own story, then he knew that the Dark Lord now controlled the Ministry. Did he think for one moment he would escape a backlash from the Ministry for this? Snape never would have expected this from the man who had no more seemed to dwell in the world of harsh reality than his daughter did.
"… yeah, Cruciate the daughter and the father'll soon fall into line!"
"Be quiet!" snapped Snape, his attention brought back by the threat to the girl on the first week of term. "She is a Pure-blood. The Dark Lord won't take kindly to such treatment. At least, not yet. I'm sure her father can be persuaded …"
oooOOOooo
The Dark Lord had been furious when Snape had arrived although Narcissa didn't seem to know why. All she could tell Snape was that the Dark Lord had been away on the first day of term and had returned distracted and angry, and had remained angry and vengeful ever since. He was spending a great deal of time with the wandmaker and anyone who had been curious had been sorry. Malfoy was still recovering after an ill-advised enquiry. Narcissa breathlessly told Snape that she was desperately grateful that Draco was at Hogwarts, out of the way, when the Dark Lord had been shown the article in The Quibbler.
He paced around them now, each standing nervously, awaiting his displeasure.
"See to it, Selwyn, that Lovegood is spoken to," he hissed venomously.
As Selwyn acknowledged the order with a deep bow, Amycus pushed himself forward, gesturing accusingly at Snape.
"I said to torture his child – the girl at the school – but Snape said not to cos she's a Pure-blood -"
Snape stepped forward, keeping his demeanour deferential.
"Perhaps if persuasion fails, my Lord. Parents can be so over-protective if their children are threatened. We are at such a delicate stage of your new regime."
The Dark Lord stared intently at Snape. Snape knew the Dark Lord had no compunction in torturing or killing children. During the last Wizarding war, the Dark Lord had used the children of his enemies and acolytes alike to secure compliance to his will, and had made known his enjoyment of it. There could be no appeal to the Dark Lord's conscience: Snape knew it did not exist. He could only hope that the Dark Lord would accept Snape's suggestion as a strategy to keep the Dark Lord as the power behind the throne, rather than be seen as protection of the pupils.
"You are," said the Dark Lord, "quite right." He glowered at Amycus who gulped and stood back quickly, realising he had spoken out of turn. "I'm sure Lovegood can be made to see sense. If not, however ... you know what you need to do. The students are your responsibility, after all."
Snape nodded and bowed, alive to the irony that both of his masters entrusted the students to his offices: for good or ill.
As it was, Snape knew The Quibbler was only published periodically. Miss Lovegood had some breathing space, at least. Barely a week into term and Snape could see that protecting the students could prove far more problematic than he had thought as the Carrows sniggered with sadistic anticipation, muttering how they would have the students practise on each other.
"Perhaps, the Dark Lord will let me teach your pupils my own brand of curses!" Dolohov rasped then he laughed with Bellatrix and Rodolphus. Snape couldn't guarantee that the Dark Lord wouldn't grant Dolohov his wish and he made a mental note to check on Poppy's stores for the ten potions Dolohov's particular curse required.
Thinking on that, he realised that, somehow, he would have to supplement all her stores without attracting her notice. It would be a difficult year – Post-Cruciatus Potion, Blood Replenishing Potion – all of them – he had no doubt, they would need all of them. And while he was at it, he decided to brew more of the Anti-Venin that was perfected on Arthur Weasley for Nagini's venom. After all, one could never know when the Dark Lord would order his snake to strike.
oooOOOooo
In their early morning call, Lupin had told Snape Idris and Alphard's plans to build a refuge in the outbuildings of the farmhouse for those Muggle-borns who would not - or could not leave - the country. The buildings would be warded against the running wolves on the nights of the full moon. It seemed they had planned very thoroughly. They had yet to discuss the Lydiard curse, but Lupin didn't want to push Idris too hard. He told Snape that Idris had taken the story of the curse very badly. It had shocked him to his core that his father had wrought such a Dark curse. However, Lupin was hopeful that Alphard was keen to break the curse. Snape knew Lupin believed that the lifting of the curse would help Tonks to understand that Lupin wasn't the man for her. Snape had difficulty believing they would be rid of her so easily – not now there was a child. But he didn't tell Lupin his reservations. It would wait – why ruin the only contact he had with Lupin by talking of her?
Then Snape told Lupin everything that had happened with him and the article in The Quibbler.
"When I get back from the Pack, I'll go to see Luna's father. As much as the truth needs to be put out there, there must be a way that doesn't endanger them both so much."
Snape agreed, and then told Lupin of the brewing schedule he'd set for himself so that the hospital wing would be fully stocked.
"Do you think the Carrows will carry out their threats?"
"I have no doubt they will, both to punish children themselves and to have them practise on each other. The Carrows have always enjoyed torture, especially of those who can't fight back," replied Snape wearily. "Last year, I tried to teach defensive skills comprehensively: shield charms, evasive manoeuvres and blocking, non-verbal curses, counter-curses. We'll soon find out whether anyone listened!"
Lupin rubbed his chin in thought.
"Perhaps, they should practise more constructively with each other, like they did with Harry – maybe they need a reminder of their last defence group," he said.
"You don't think they should keep their heads low and try to live through this, then?" retorted Snape.
"I don't think keeping their heads down will assist them in the long run, Severus. They need to learn to help themselves."
"They'll be punished if they're caught."
"I trust you," said Lupin simply. Snape closed his eyes to savour the words of trust, but he wasn't sure he deserved them.
"It won't always be me who catches them," said Snape softly.
Lupin covered his face with his hands and exhaled.
"They have to be able to defend themselves, Severus. Perhaps, you can suggest something to Minerva – in your own indirect way. Get her to alert the children to the danger," said Lupin with a sad smile.
Snape snorted. "Not bad thinking … for a Gryffindor. I'll announce to the Heads of House that I'll be drawing up a decree matching that of Umbridge two years ago. Even Longbottom can't miss as unsubtle a hint as that."
oooOOOooo
Poppy Pomfrey was one of the most organised people Snape had ever known – including himself! He stood at the doorway to the infirmary stores, taking in the ordered shelves and drawers. He had always preferred to order his own stores alphabetically – he recalled with a brief smile and a warm flush in his chest how he had ordered the larder of the farmhouse after Lupin had Claimed him. That had been four years ago. He drew a breath as he realised that this Christmas would be their fifth anniversary together. He could barely believe it.
He cursed himself for allowing his mind to wander, no matter how pleasantly, and focused on the infirmary stores. Poppy ordered stores according to ailment efficacy. It was ingenious really.
He incanted a revealing spell and requested 'headache': several potions were revealed as being efficacious for headaches. If he circumscribed his revealing spell to 'migraine headache', only two potions were revealed. How clever. His next request was 'fractured bones' and a further three potions and four balms were highlighted. 'Snake bite' revealed only potions for ordinary, non-magical snake bites – he had suspected as much. 'Dragon Pox' revealed the specific potion cures for that affliction, together with the other remedies for its side-effects and subsequent malaise.
Snape spent the next hour familiarising himself with Poppy's system and then Summoned a quill and parchment from her office to make a note of those potions and balms which were depleted or missing entirely.
Slughorn had been brewing all the requisite potions for the hospital wing since taking over the post of Potions Master last year and had carried on doing so, Snape knew from the various requisitions forms he had signed. What Snape needed to do now was to ensure that the stock included those potions Snape suspected would be required far too regularly, plus those which Slughorn would not necessarily consider necessary for school.
Post-Cruciatus Potion, thought Snape unhappily. Why would anyone in their right minds think that was necessary for a school?
"Well?" Poppy snapped, watching him from the door, her eyes narrowed with distrust. "Do I pass muster, Severus?"
Snape regarded her with his most impassive expression. Poppy had long been his ally, his friend, even his saviour on numerous occasions. The betrayal in her eyes, and the hurt and defensiveness in her voice was hard to stomach. It hit him harder now than at previous staff meetings as this was the first time they had been on their own together.
Poppy had been privy to his two great secrets: his spying and his Claiming by Lupin. She had nursed him through that first full moon apart. But the hard glint in her eyes made it clear what she thought of him now. How much he wanted just to tell her he was true to Dumbledore, true to Lupin, true to the Light. But he could no more tell her than he could Minerva. It would risk too much.
"Did you object to Albus inspecting your stores at the start of term?" he asked, his voice low and expressionless. He saw her chest heave with offence and knew it was at the use of Dumbledore's name.
"Professor Dumbledore trusted me implicitly," she said, her head held high. Then he saw some emotion flicker in her eyes and knew she had wanted to add, 'As he trusted you.'
"As do I," responded Snape, trying to keep his voice neutral. He breathed in deeply. "I need to ensure that your stores are fully prepared. I don't think I need to remind you that Hogwarts has changed -"
"No, indeed, you do not!"
"Then it's best that we are prepared, don't you think?" Snape knew he was coming perilously close to telling Poppy more than he ought, but then a commotion distracted him.
"Hoi, you daft besom!" shouted Amycus, as he supported his sister into the ward. "Get out here!"
"Your friends," she clipped, with a sneer to match Snape's own and then smoothed down her apron smartly and turned on her heel to attend to the Carrows. Snape followed, fuming at Amycus's rudeness.
"She's hurt. That bloody stupid disappearing step," growled Amycus as his sister simpered, her doughy face even more unprepossessing screwed up in pain, as her stubby fingers held her swelling, blackening ankle.
"There's no need to make such a fuss," huffed Poppy, waving Amycus away.
"Now, listen 'ere!" said Amycus roughly, raising his wand.
"That's enough!" said Snape icily, glaring at Amycus, who dropped his wand arm on seeing Snape, whilst still trying to maintain his scowl. "I suggest if a simple healing spell is beyond you, you show some respect to the witch you ask to cast it for you."
He could see from the corner of his eye Poppy's momentary surprise at his intervention, but he kept his cold gaze on Amycus who was looking stupidly resentful, like a scolded dog.
"I suggest you acquaint yourselves thoroughly with the idiosyncrasies of this castle, if you are to teach here," said Snape. "It normally takes the students less than a few weeks to learn the pitfalls -"
"Well, we didn't come 'ere for schoolin', did we?" interrupted Alecto, drawing in a sharp breath as Poppy cast quickly to heal her ankle.
"Schooled at 'ome, weren't we?" sneered Amycus.
Snape didn't bother to stifle a sneer of his own at this confirmation of his views of those who were educated at home, wishing he could have caught Poppy's eye to share the joke at the twins' expense.
"You don't say."
oooOOOooo
Snape spread out his papers on the desk. Somehow, even though he was no longer a Head of House or Potions Master, he seemed to have a greater workload than ever before. He had never really appreciated the amount of paperwork that the Headmaster had to deal with and he's set himself a rigid brewing timetable for the school, as well as the potions he brewed for the Dark Lord, successfully and unsuccessfully.
He had done nothing on the Dark Lord's selective poison and he knew he couldn't expect the Dark Lord just to forget about it. He would have to fabricate further failed experiments and even that took time. He hoped when Lupin came home, he would bring news from Alphard on further experimental balms; maybe Snape himself would be able to work with Alphard again if they could maintain the secrecy needed.
He re-ordered his papers again, taking out his researches into the Lycanthropic curse itself. He wanted to spend all his spare time on this – the cure for his beloved husband – but there was a more immediate danger for them – the curse they had to find a way to break: the Lydiard Curse. If they were to be free of Tonks, they had to break this curse.
Snape lowered the papers as a sick feeling settled in the pit of his stomach.
They could never be fully free of her though, could they? She carried Lupin's child – his son. Even if the curse could be broken and she could see how the curse had shaped her destiny and let Lupin go, she would still be mother to Lupin's son – the son who should have been his and Lupin's alone. Snape's jaw worked at the injustice of it.
As he was about to set quill to parchment to draw out the metre of the curse again, he felt the enchanted mirror in his pocket vibrate.
Lupin! But so early!
Snape swept to the ante-room so the portraits couldn't listen and took out the mirror from his robe, setting it on the table there.
"Remus, what's wrong?" he said quickly, seeing Lupin in the mirror, his face pale and stricken.
Lupin looked harassed as he raked his hands through his hair.
"She's here, Severus. Dora's here."
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You Will Not Kiss Me