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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
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Chapter List
- 16
- 17
- 18
Chapter 17: Attractions of Pain

Snape's thumb pressed the Adam's apple and simultaneously increased the pressure of the four corresponding fingers around Lucius Malfoy's throat, his wand trained to the man's chest, his face barely inches away.

"How," he snarled with bared teeth into Malfoy's now purpling face, "did you get my blood?"

All he received in response was a wheezing, which brought Snape somewhat to his senses and his loosened his grip to allow the man to breathe.

Malfoy emitted a few small coughs and then raised one eyebrow at Snape. "Rather sensitive about the Headmaster, aren't we, Severus?" he sneered and then coughed again.

"Do not toy with me, Lucius," Snape spat. "You have used my blood to implicate me in this Dark bond enchantment. I would have every justification in killing you now," Snape's voice fell to a dangerous whisper and he flexed his fingers and thumb around Malfoy's throat menacingly.

"Now you will tell me how you got my blood, and how you used it, and you will tell me now!" Snape said slowly, his voice was barely audible, but his ebony eyes sparked with rage and Malfoy's false smile slipped from his face.

It was, of course, perfect justification for his rage, and Snape counted himself fortunate to have the presence of mind to think of it, when he knew his rage was for the phrase that was playing over and over in his mind: Just kill the beast. Just kill the beast.

Of course, it would be easy for a Death Eater to cast a killing curse at Lupin to free himself of the Mind-Breaker curse, and a Death Eater would know that Dumbledore would never do such a thing; and now, neither would he. Would he have once? Don't think on it! Not now. Just know you would not do it now – never. But he had a light at the end of the tunnel, didn't he? If Malfoy was telling the truth, the blood was his and he would give it liberally and hopefully Dumbledore would know how to vanquish the Mind-Breaker.

Malfoy coughed to clear his throat and hiked his eyebrows as if in mild surprise. "I'm rather surprised you don't recall, Severus. You were always so very eager to please the Dark Lord," he smirked unpleasantly. Snape flexed his hand around Malfoy's throat again, and Malfoy closed his eyes and gritted his teeth slightly.

"A veritable little bleeder, in fact," Malfoy opened his eyes again, glinting with malice.

Snape's outward demeanour didn't change, but he knew immediately to what Malfoy was referring. In his early days as a Death Eater, when his loyalty to the Dark Lord was fervent and pure, he always put himself forward for Dark rituals, partly to advance his own knowledge and power, but also to increase his ranking within the Dark Lord's service.

When he had created the Insidiae, the Dark Lord had promoted him to the inner circle. Snape remembered with disgust the perverted and twisted pride he had taken in such an accomplishment. It fell to Snape always to perform the Insidiae using his own blood whenever the Dark Lord required its use. He had obliged with gratitude. There had been many Insidiae casting parchments soaked with blood taken from the veins of his left arm. Could one or more of them have been stored? He'd cast many Insidiae, but had never as part of a Thrall.

"One of many Dark artefacts that were left in your safe-keeping Lucius? Do you think the Dark Lord will appreciate your continued flippant use of these?" Snape sneered. "Dear me, you are so very careless, are you not? Still, it is all to the good then. I am the Caster of the Insidiae so I may relieve it with my blood."

"You would give your blood to save a half-breed beast?" Malfoy snapped, clearly cross that his plan was to be thwarted.

"To save my own hide from Azkaban, Lucius, I should say I would. And you're hardly one to chide me for the misuse of my blood. The question seems to me to be: how many other blood parchments of mine do you have? Hmm?" He looked at Malfoy as if he were asking for no more than the time.

Malfoy smiled unpleasantly. "How many indeed."

"Veritaserum worn off, Lucius?" Snape said, rather lightly. His mood was lifting. He realised he had every justification for what he wanted to do, and what he wanted to do was to hurt Malfoy. Really rather badly.

"The parchment," he said acidly. "You still have it?"

"Used in the ritual, dear heart," Malfoy purred.

"Are there others?" Snape pressed his wand harder in Malfoy's neck, gripping his throat again just tight enough so Malfoy wouldn't lose consciousness.

Malfoy gritted his teeth, looking balefully at Snape.

"If there are, they are no longer yours!" he spat. "You gave them freely to the Dark Lord and he gave them to me for safe-keeping," he managed to grind out.

"You have no idea when to concede, have you, Lucius?" Snape shook his head.

Snape moved away from Malfoy, wondering why the simpering fool had no clue that Snape would not give up. He supposed being so indulged, Malfoy had simply never had to countenance the thought of retiring gracefully. Snape took his robe off, carefully laying it on his chair so as not to crease it, so he was in his shirt sleeves. He wondered if Malfoy recalled this little ritual from his days of service with the Dark Lord; his preparation ritual before he tortured someone of the Dark Lord's choosing.

Staring at Malfoy from a foot away, Snape nonchalantly raised his wand and saw a brief glimmer of fear in Malfoy's eyes. Snape smirked. Just kill the beast, is it? You may count yourself blessed Lucius Malfoy that I love that beast and do not want to be parted from him by killing you and ending up in Azkaban. His acknowledgement was a revelation to him. He knew it to be true.

Snape made an almost imperceptible slice with his wand and watched Malfoy's eyes widen as a small slash of blood appeared on Malfoy's neck. He flicked a slice in the opposite direction and the gash healed.

Snape cut again a little deeper, waited whilst the cut bled and then healed it again. His face was immobile but his dark gaze held Malfoy's. He cut again, deeper still and then healed it again. Malfoy's eyes were wide now and shining with fear and pain.

"You wouldn't dare," he croaked.

"And yet, here I am ... daring," Snape said, humourlessly, his onyx eyes, hard as the stone itself.

He slashed this time, he did not heal the slash. "Where are the parchments, Lucius?"

Malfoy gritted his teeth, his eyes were alight with powerless rage.

Snape healed the slash, then slashed on the same place. Malfoy's eyes became glassy with pain. Well, well, who knew Malfoy had a backbone? Snape thought acidly. My blood parchments certainly seem to be worthwhile.

He started to pace around Malfoy's chair impatiently as he slashed, questioned, healed and slashed again repeatedly. Still Malfoy wouldn't tell him.

Of course, Snape knew a more efficient way to get the information from Malfoy, but he could not deny that each cut and slash he administered salved him as he thought of what Lupin had suffered under this curse; indeed, what he had suffered and what he might suffer yet. He could heal this damage to Malfoy easily enough, but he wanted Malfoy to feel the pain first. Oh yes, indeed.

"I ask you for the final time, Lucius," Snape whispered dangerously, in front of Malfoy now and leaning his forearm against Malfoy's bleeding neck.

"No," Malfoy whispered, one fat tear of pain rolling down his cheek.

"Very well." Snape healed the last gash, scourgified Malfoy's shirt neck and then his own sleeve. He watched Malfoy for a couple of minutes as Malfoy steadied his own breath.

"Better?" Snape asked mildly.

"Look, old man, you understand. I can't just..."

The imbecile really thought I would just give up! Does he know me at all? Snape thought, wanting to laugh wildly, but then he heard the front door. Having watched Malfoy earlier, he undid the wards against intrusion by Narcissa, cast a silencing charm and full bind on Malfoy and then leaned into Malfoy, grabbed his collar in his fist and kissed him, prying Malfoy's mouth open and searching with his tongue.

Narcissa glided in, perfect, haughty and aloof. She took in the scene before her of Snape in his shirt sleeves, leaning in over her clearly bound husband and kissing him hard.

She gave a small, false cough. Snape disengaged from Malfoy very slowly and deliberately. He understood this couple very well indeed.

"Good evening, Narcissa," he said, with a small curt bow.

Narcissa nodded and turned to her husband. "Really, Lucius? You could not keep your nasty games outside the house? You know how I feel about them. How tacky," she drawled lazily. She turned to Snape. "Severus, I'm rather surprised at you. I had no idea your preferences had broadened so. And so dominant." She allowed her gaze to sweep over his body. "Well, I'm sure you will find Lucius accommodating."

One side of Narcissa's mouth quirked, together with one eyebrow. "Do you have a silencing charm on my husband?" she asked, clearly amused.

"I do," Snape said, standing straight and tall and placing one hand behind his back as he were the lord of this manor.

"Yes, I find it best," she smiled conspiratorially at Snape and eyed him with renewed interest. "Well, as long as you keep the noise down, I'll leave you to it. Good night." She glided away and up the sweeping staircase.

When she was out of sight, Snape turned back to Malfoy, with a crooked smirk and his eyebrow raised slowly as he considered just how much discomfort he could now put Malfoy through, right under Narcissa's nose. It made his pleasure all the more intense.

He cast Muffliato and straightened up and fixed Lucius's eyes with his own.

"Legilimens!" he cried.

He tore straight into Malfoy's mind, in the manner of the Dark Lord, with no pity, no mercy. He had re-cast a silencing charm on Malfoy so he didn't have to hear his screams, but he could hear those made by Malfoy's mind. Lupin was wrong when he said Snape didn't strike Malfoy the way he had struck Lupin; Snape had not been honest when he said he didn't care. He enjoyed every cut and slice on the man's skin, and revelled in every mental shriek as he sliced into Malfoy's mind as he found the vault beneath the floor, how to access it, and the horde of blood parchments the Dark Lord had left with him.

When Snape finished with him, he performed some mind healing on his way out of his mind. He retrieved the parchments and then patted Malfoy on the head in a way he knew would infuriate him and then donned his robe and travelling cloak, packing the blood parchments into an inside pocket.

"If I find out you have used me in such an enchantment again, Lucius. I will kill you," Snape promised darkly. He poured Malfoy a brandy then he lifted the bindings and left the man dishevelled and breathless in his chair.

Snape had gone straight to Dumbledore's office to recount what he had found out. Dumbledore sent a house elf to summon Lupin to listen also. When Lupin entered the office, without any compunction, he swept Snape into his arms. Snape was speechless, and blushed deeply. He heard Dumbledore chuckle then cough lightly. He was about to put his arms around Lupin in response when he suddenly felt Lupin stiffen and then disengage from him, frowning at Snape. Before Snape could question it, Dumbledore spoke.

"Severus, we've both been concerned about how this evening would go. What tidings?" Dumbledore gestured to both men to take a seat.

Snape recounted everything that Malfoy had disclosed about the enchantments. Dumbledore listened intently. He gave a small but visible start when Snape told them that the blood was his and explained about the blood parchments, and Snape saw Dumbledore's placid facade slip briefly when he told them about the Mind-Breaker Snape would suffer once the enchantment was lifted. Remus listened intently throughout, but said nothing.

"Well they do the thing thoroughly, don't they?" Dumbledore murmured. "Severus, Remus, I want you both to know that I am confident that between us we have the skill between us to vanquish all aspects of these enchantments." Snape couldn't help smiling to himself at Dumbledore's self-deprecation. Dumbledore continued, "There is ancient white magic that will help us with the Mind-Breaker. I know one alumnus who recently had to use just this ancient magic for a tomb in Egypt he was working on."

"Bill Weasley? I knew he worked for Gringotts as a curse-breaker. I thought the work was rather more prosaic." Snape commented.

"Oh no, Severus. He has become quite accomplished. The Egyptians were really quite monstrously inventive in their curse casting. I correspond with him quite often. Source of many interesting developments. I think a judicious letter of enquiry is merited." Dumbledore smiled.

He stood and fingered the sheaf of blood parchments Snape had put on the table.

"That the blood is yours Severus explains a great deal about how this has worked in such unexpected ways." Dumbledore's melodious voice dropped, musing on the developments. "It explains why, when the Thrall was deflected from me, it latched onto you. It explains why the Dark magic I see emanating from you is so apparent to me as part of it originates from your blood." He looked intently over his glasses at Snape. "It was the amplified resonance of this blood magic that I felt and which pulled me to the third floor when you lost your temper with Remus. Without that connection acting as a clarion call to me, I may not have been in time." Dumbledore's voice faded and he looked away and then at the parchments again.

"So many blood curses drawn, Severus," he said mildly, but the sorrowful rebuke was audible to Snape who closed his eyes briefly in acknowledgement of it. "One should never be so free with one's own blood."

Dumbledore picked up the sheaf in his left hand and then ran the palm of his right hand over the sheaf in a circular motion until they rolled as if of their own accord in a ball and then were suddenly consumed by intense but tightly controlled Fiendfyre.

Snape closed his eyes, nodding. Cleansed by Fiendfyre: it was the only way to destroy those blood parchments. At least, there would never be another Insidiae cast with his blood.

Lupin poured himself a drink, but did not offer Snape one and sat in deep, brooding silence, one finger brushing across his own top lip. Snape stood and looked at him for what seemed like a long time. Something about him seemed larger than usual. More dangerous. Like a wolf whose hackles were up. Yes, that was it. Snape closed his eyes slowly in realisation. Lupin could smell Malfoy. He had smelt him when he had embraced Snape on his return.

"Remus?" Snape enquired quietly. There was no answer. Snape said his name again.

"Go to our bed, Severus," Lupin said, his voice was low, harsh and dismissive. "I will see to you there."

Snape knew at a visceral level that he would obey so he said no more and prepared for bed. He lay in bed for half an hour before Lupin came in the room. In their time together since Christmas, except those nights when Lupin had not been with him, going to bed with Lupin always meant pleasure, the only question was to what degree. At this moment, he felt cold and afraid in the pit of his stomach. Yet he was a wizard of not inconsiderable skill, why could he not defend himself? He found it meant nothing. He waited because his body and mind compelled him to. He waited because he wanted to. He waited because Lupin had told him to, and he was Lupin's.

Lupin stood by the bedside looking at Snape, still fully dressed, his expression hard. He picked up the clothes Snape had been wearing. He sniffed the sleeve of the shirt that Snape had cleaned of Malfoy's blood. He breathed in the crotch and leg of Snape's trousers where Malfoy had touched him.

He took the covers from Snape and crawled over him so he was on his hands and knees straddling Snape's naked body. Lupin lowered his face, tracing his nose over all the bites he had inflicted on Snape earlier that day and then on to Snape's ear: the ear that Malfoy had bitten and his nose brushed it and breathed in the scent over his tongue. He took Snape's ear into his mouth in exactly the same place as Malfoy had and bit slowly and deeply on the same place until Snape sucked his breath in sharply in pain. Then he bit down again and licked the blood.

He moved back to face Snape. "Why did you let him bite you?"

"I let him to distract him so he would be wandless so I could then bind him and get the information we needed," Snape said plainly, his voice hoarse as his throat was so dry, and not taking his eyes from Lupin's eyes, so hard and glassy.

Seeing his eyes close up, Snape realised that Lupin was somewhere far away, the place that animalistic possessiveness took those within its fierce grip, beyond reason or kindness.

"You let him touch you elsewhere," Lupin said as a matter of fact. "You kissed him."

"Only as a distraction, Remus. Not from desire," Snape said softly.

"That doesn't matter. You are mine. You do not let anyone else touch you," Lupin snarled.

He leant in to Snape's mouth and sucked his upper lip very hard and then bit it slowly until he drew blood. It made Snape's eyes water with pain, but he did not flinch or move away.

He moved his hand down to exactly the place on Snape's thigh where Malfoy had gripped his thigh. Snape was panicking and his heart beat became more rapid in his fear. Lupin grasped the skin hard and Snape hissed in pain again. But he did nothing to defend himself. He was still compelled to stay.

"Did you punish him?" Lupin growled into Snape's mouth.

"I cut him," Snape said, feeling the hair on his neck and arms rise and tasting the tang of his own fear.

"For touching you?" Lupin's face came nearer, his cold eyes penetrating Snape's own.

"And for hurting you," Snape responded. Lupin's eyes narrowed.

Lupin's hand moved to Snape's genitals. Merlin, no! Snape thought wildly. There was no lust in Lupin's grasp. Snape's heart was hammering harder in his chest now, and yet his flight reflex seemed to be frozen. "Please Remus. Don't hurt me any more," Snape said softly, allowing his fingers to gently stroke Lupin's hair.

"Please don't. I am yours. I know I am. I don't want anyone else," he chanted in a measured tone. He would lie here until Lupin punished him or didn't, and he knew he would accept either, even though he had started to shiver as if very cold and his stomach churned with fear. He continued his quiet, soft pleading with Lupin, who had now clenched his hand tightly and uncomfortably over Snape's genitals, his hand pulsing as if being restrained from grasping harder and damaging him.

Snape moved both his hands so he could stroke Lupin's face gently as he pleaded quietly. "Please Remus. See me," he spoke soothingly, just as he knew Lupin so often spoke to him knowing how it could fetch him from his anger or his sorrow. He kept his gaze steady with Lupin's even though his eyes seemed so alien in their hardness. "Don't hurt me any more. Love me instead."

As he said this, he fancied he saw some of the hardness shift. Lupin took deeper breaths, his eyes still glassy, but not so sharp.

"Remus, please, love me instead," Snape said softly and warmly. He watched as Lupin's eyes slowly seemed to clear and then soften, and then he felt Lupin's hand unclench slowly and relax.

"Severus," Lupin eventually whispered, his eyes widening as he became fully aware of where he was and what he was doing. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry." With that, Lupin jumped quickly off the bed, and fled from Snape's quarters, leaving Snape stunned and shaken.

He healed his lip and ear with dittany and waited. After an hour of waiting for Lupin to return, Snape got dressed and started to pace his drawing room, wondering where Lupin had gone. It was past two in the morning now and Snape's nerves were on edge. He needed Lupin. He needed to know he was safe. He went to the map, but he didn't know the charm to read it. He racked his brain, when it struck him. Of course. The wolf's curse had just mortified Lupin once again. He would go to the wolf's house as penance. Snape set off to the Shrieking Shack.

He remembered how it was accessed and found a broken branch to immobilise the Whomping Willow and went through the tunnel to the shack at the other end. He'd never been this far in, and his stomach turned over as he remembered what he'd seen. Six months ago, he doubted he would have been able even to walk into this tunnel, the memories sickened him so. But today, he needed to find Lupin.

He entered the ramshackle dwelling with his wand lit and went up the rickety, swaying staircase, knowing at an instinctive level that this was the way to go. In what appeared to be a derelict bedroom, he found Lupin in a fitful sleep, curled up like a child on an old dusty bed. He lowered himself into a broken down chair and sat vigil for his mate.

It was only an hour before Lupin came round to behold Snape watching him. Snape got up and went over to sit next to him to stroke his hair away from his face. Lupin grasped Snape's wrist and brought his hand to his mouth and kissed it over and over, holding his other hand out for Snape's free hand, which he gave. Lupin sat up and pulled Snape to him.

"I'm so sorry, Severus. Forgive me," he said earnestly, holding Snape tightly and kissing his hair. "It's so hard to come back from that place where I have no control." He rested his head against Snape's shoulder. Snape kissed him tentatively and was kissed tenderly in return.

"Why didn't you fight me off?" Lupin asked, his eyes wide.

"I couldn't move," Snape said simply. "I was terrified, but I couldn't move - not until you had finished with me. So I tried to talk to you the way you talk to me when I'm angry and just hoped I could get through to you."

"Thank Merlin you did," Lupin said weakly, pulling his hand across his face as Snape helped Lupin to his feet and they started down the stairs. "It's a terrible thing to be loved by a werewolf, Severus."

"It is an extraordinary thing and usually it is a wonderful thing," Snape said, reassuringly, his stomach finally unclenching and his heart lightening. "But possibly not this night," he said gently as he and Lupin started the walk back to his rooms.
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You Will Not Kiss Me