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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 32: Moody and the Moon

The day churned by. Snape was tired and irritable. The last thing he needed today was the fourth year Gryffindors and Slytherins: the group that contained the sainted trio, with the insufferable Granger and idiot boys, Weasley and Potter, his very own cretins, Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle and their penchant for throwing things in each other's cauldrons in the mistaken belief that it was in some way funny to cause explosions of invariably disfiguring or flammable potions. And then of course there was Longbottom: a disaster in himself. True to form, Longbottom exploded (by Snape's count) his sixth cauldron. The boy's grandmother must be made of money. Snape certainly had taken care of every single thing he had ever been given for school because he knew that nothing would ever be replaced. But then again, Longbottom was a pureblood, so money meant nothing. How Lupin ever gave these children the time of day, Snape did not know.

He willed away the day.

He had done his marking for the evening and bathed to relax himself. He found himself nervous as if waiting to escort Lupin to a ball, Snape snorted to himself at the thought. All he was doing to going to bed. How could he possibly be feeling this nervous? Oh, but he was, and he was excited too to fulfil his promise to Lupin. His stomach and groin flared every time he thought of taking to his bed. He had put out the blanket with Lupin's scent, making sure it would be near his face so he could smell it strongly. He paced nervously. He got himself a glass of Firewhiskey. He shouldn't need this. He would only be doing what he knew other men did as a matter of course. But he didn't. It wasn't what he did. But he wanted to. He wanted to relax into what Lupin had shown him.

It was half past nine. It would be half past eleven in Cairo. He downed a very large glass of Firewhiskey and laid himself down and breathed deeply, breathing Lupin's scent into his nose, over his olfactory senses so he could taste it as it if had substance. He did this several times until he was almost in a trance-like state.

Eyes closed, he very gently touched his neck and was immediately enervated and aroused. A small smile settled at the corners of his mouth. Lupin had been waiting for him – he knew it. That knowledge relaxed him and he caressed the bite and it made him gasp as if he could feel Lupin's hands on body and kisses on his neck. He moved his hand to his chest and circled one bite. It made his back arch sharply, the sensations travelling along his skin were so strong. His other hand now joined on the other bite on his chest. His inhibitions evaporated. Lupin promised him he would enjoy it; he was already enjoying it. He was alive with Lupin's touch coruscating across his body.

One hand then travelled to the bite below his stomach. Oh, he knew what this one would do and he ached for it. He caressed it and felt the amazing sensation inside himself of his prostate being stroked and his own muscles contracting strongly against it, knowing Lupin's muscles would be doing this too. He was groaning now in pleasure, writhing under his own touch that didn't feel like his own touch, still drinking in Lupin's scent with every hitched breath.

He moved his hand to his lowest bite as he took hold of his cock with the other. Again, it felt like Lupin's hand and as he stroked that lowest bite, he felt he would melt in the overwhelming burn of desire as he bucked into his own hand, his desire so intense he lost awareness that he was by himself in his bed. He pleased himself and stopped occasionally moving back to the chest and neck bites so he could extend the pleasure for as long as he could. The way he felt and the sensations he experienced were every bit as delicious as if Lupin were there and finally, it became too much, and he stroked himself passionately and then fast, murmuring Lupin's name, as his orgasm built slowly and strongly until it pierced its prison and erupted from him and he cried out in release, his hips gradually slowing to a sated halt.

If only he could feel Lupin's weight and kiss him. That was all that was missing. He slept immediately and deeply.

In the following few days, Moody seemed to dog his every step. He often seemed to find Moody in the dungeon corridors, although there could be no legitimate reason for him to be there. He seemed to find reason to stare at Snape at every meal in the Great Hall and did not appear to care who saw him ogling him. Worryingly, Snape noticed that Moody's magical eye often rested on his neck, where Lupin's bite was. He wondered what Moody could see and if he knew what it signified.

"Is anything I say of any consequence to you at all, Albus?" Snape fumed. "He transfigured Draco Malfoy into an animal and physically bounced him off the stone floor several times!" Snape was shouting now. "If that had been done to one of your golden Gryffindors, I'm sure you would have plenty to say to Alastor Moody. If it had been precious, perfect Mr. Potter for instance," Snape spat, enunciating each P to accentuate his disgust at the unfairness of it.

"Severus," Dumbledore said, menacingly. "This is untrue and uncalled for."

"No, Albus. It is not," Snape retorted. "It is the same story with you and it always will be."

"You had a hard time at his hands, Severus, at the end of the war. I understand that," Dumbledore said gently and oh so reasonably, "but don't let that blind you the qualities he can bring to this post, this year of all years."

"Albus! I am telling you that there is something wrong with Alastor Moody. The Auror I met thirteen years ago I don't believe would have bounced a child against a stone floor for the pleasure of a gawking school population, although I grant he may well have bounced me off the floor in the same manner! He may have been tough on me, Albus, but I was a grown man and easily his match!" Snape was very angry now and was striding back and forth in Dumbledore's office. "So, he abuses a child, but that's fine because he's a Slythern child." He waved his hand at Dumbledore distractedly. "But I am not to be trusted with that post, although I have never bounced a child against a stone floor," he thought of Potter, "no matter the provocation." He continued pacing, his mouth a thin line of anger. "You allow him to show the children Unforgiveable curses and demonstrate on them!"

"I believe they need to know what's out there and the first step is to recognise some of the dangers they could face," Dumbledore said in measured tones.

"He demonstrated the Cruciatus curse to Longbottom of all people!" Snape leaned forward on his hands on Dumbledore's desk, his face a mask of disbelief.

"Your concern for Neville's feelings is touching, Severus," Dumbledore smiled.

"Do not patronise me, Albus. It was a monstrous thing to do, given Longbottom's history. I am not a monster. I would not have done that," Snape said dangerously.

"I need a Potions professor and you are harder to replace that you realise."

"That's nonsense and you know it: you don't trust me in that position. You make your lack of trust of me plain at every opportunity," Snape said wearily. "The fact remains that I am telling you that Alastor Moody is not stable and he is not to be trusted."

"Severus! Enough," Dumbledore said firmly. "I trust Alastor as I trust you. No more of it, if you please."

"He threatened to strip the flesh off my bones, Albus," Snape hissed. "He didn't even say things like that when I was under arrest, bound in chains with my Dark Mark exposed!"

"Just colourful language, Severus. I'll talk to him to temper his language."

Snape huffed out a breath, gave Dumbledore one final glare of disgust, and marched out of Dumbedore's office.

Lupin's second letters held the news that he had been waiting for. Gringotts had a retreat in Brasov, Romania, for the werewolves in their employ and their mates. Lupin would arrange for Snape to Portkey on the day of the full moon, once classes were finished. They could run if they wanted to, or stay in their quarters. Maybe, for the full moons that fell at a weekend, they could run, but not this one. This one was mid-week and Lupin realised that Snape would have classes the next day. Timing would be critical, but it could be managed. All that concerned Lupin was whether Snape understood that this meant that Gringotts had to know of Snape's status as the Claimed mate of a werewolf? Well, Gringotts would be sworn to secrecy and Snape knew the goblins did not have the penchant for gossip that the wizarding world did. He was content then. Yes, he was content indeed and very much looking forward to seeing Lupin, not to mention questioning him about those dreams, now mercifully gone.

Snape re-read that part of Lupin's letter about Moody.

I'm shocked Severus. I've known Alastor since the war and, yes, he has his foibles and we all know how he hates Dark wizards. He should not have spoken to you like that and I am very unhappy with it. I feel you probably have not told me all of it so I will try not to be angry. I know that you are more than capable for defending yourself and don't need me to mollycoddle you. Nevertheless, I wish I was not so far away from you.

As for what he did to Draco, I confess that I am struggling to think of him harming a child (no matter how unpleasant that child may be). I would never have thought it of him. Perhaps, one can only be an Auror for so long before it affects one's reality. Have you told Albus? I think you should. I have no doubt that Alastor has great expertise and experience to pass on to the children, but a teacher's authority must be properly and proportionately exercised. Don't you think so, Severus?

Snape felt the light rebuke of his lover, and it made him smile affectionately. Well, he'd told Dumbledore. Fat lot of good it did him. Fat lot of good it ever did him.

In the charmed private letter, Lupin said simply:

Thank you for thinking of me, dearest Severus. It was delicious and I enjoyed your extraordinary self-control! I hope you will visit me every night. I need you and I love you, Remus.

His body flared and he closed his eyes to feel the sensation more deeply. He had woken that morning invigorated and fresh. Every night? Certainly. He smiled when he thought of his mission at the weekend, knowing how much Lupin would like what would come of it. He composed his responses.

He visited his vault at Gringotts at the weekend and returned straightaway to Hogwarts with the small package wrapped in velvet and then in muslin. He took out the two plain, sterling silver vanity mirrors. He had charmed them with a Protean Charm in his second year: one for him and one for Lily. They used to talk to each other every morning and every evening with these. Not as lovers; just as very best friends. They had used them until the fateful incident at the lake. She had returned hers to him a week later by house-elf. He remembered how crushed he had been when he saw what the little parcel held. There had been no accompanying note. He remembered how angry he was when he saw that she had charmed a pair of mirrors for Potter and Black for their detentions. It seemed like just another way of betraying him at the time.

When he received the return of Lily's mirror, he had wrapped the two mirrors together and kept them under a floor board at Spinner's End until he inherited the Prince vault on his mother's death, and the mirrors were placed there with the few other treasures that he had. Since he found out that Lupin would be going to Egypt, he had pondered whether to give one of the mirrors to Lupin, given its history. Now it was a reality, he found he missed him so intensely, the mirrors' history seemed to be of no relevance. There was no point to holding on to the mirrors for old time's sake. He paid plenty to respect Lily's memory, every day of his life that he spent in this school. He didn't need to hold on to these. It turned out not to be the wrench he had feared.

He took out one and placed it by his bedside, and then wrapped its mate in the velvet and muslin and then placed a cushioning charm around it and packaged it up and sent it to Lupin with a short, charmed note:

Beloved,

I have its mate.

Severus

"Severus." Snape thought groggily that he must be dreaming.

"Severus, wake up." No, definitely Lupin's voice. He smiled to himself as he turned to face the mirror on his bedside table to see Lupin's smiling face. "Sorry it's so early. I got this in this morning's post and have to go to work soon. I wanted to say good morning and thank you. It's a brilliant idea."

"Good morning, Remus," Snape said, his voice morning-deep, smiling at the mirror. "What time is it there?" His own clock said it was 5.30 in the morning.

"It's half past seven. I start work at half past eight. You have me for forty five minutes before I have to leave. What shall we do?" Lupin smiled wickedly.

"I thought we might talk to each other," Snape said, mockingly.

"We could do that as well, especially how you sound right now," Lupin purred. "But you know what I'd like. Please Severus. We can watch each other."

Not even so much as a chaste honeymoon period for the mirrors then, Snape thought to himself, amused. He knew it would happen, but it made him smile just the same, and, well, he missed Lupin in the morning as much as he missed him at night.

He touched one of his chest bites, very gently, watching Lupin's face as Lupin hitched a breath and sighed and then moved to his chest, delighting in the sensation and the lust in Lupin's eyes, and seeing Lupin's lips part as he ran his tongue along his lips and said his name softly like a sigh, "Oh Severus."

"Remus," he said breathlessly, realising it wasn't enough. "I want to see you." He cast Engorgio to the mirror audibly. Lupin face broke into a broad smile and he did the same and each man cast a levitation charm on his own mirror to look at the full length of his lover as they stroked themselves for each other.

As the weeks passed towards the full moon, Lupin became more demanding in their long distance love-making. He would tell Snape when and how to touch himself, never taking his eyes from him in the mirror. They both exerted themselves fully, even without being together, pushing their own bodies harder under their own hands with each passing night to scale heights of pleasure Snape couldn't believe could be reached without Lupin's wolf magic. Each night would leave him physically exhausted but emotionally exhilarated and fresh for the next day. The tension was building palpably between them. Snape knew that, for the first time, at least consensually on his part, Lupin would take him as the werewolf on the eve of this full moon when they were at the retreat. He knew it would be what he had fantasised about before and he knew it would give him release like he had never known. All this he knew at an instinctive level. He longed for the day to come.

It was finally 19th September. Classes had finished and Snape went to his quarters to collect his small overnight bag. He had arranged with the Slytherin prefects to contact Filius, Pomona or Minerva if there were any issues, he having business out of the castle. He received a note from a house elf as he was about to leave from Albus requesting an urgent meeting in his office. What was this? Well, it couldn't take long, surely? He shrunk his bag and made his way to Dumbledore's office.

Moody was there, standing legs astride and arms akimbo, his aggressive stance, with a Slytherin six former in front of him. It was Joshua Doyle, a studious and inoffensive half-blood. One who was quite clearly under the Imperius curse.

"You summoned me, Albus," Snape enquired silkily, his head tilted to one side.

"Ah, yes, Severus," Dumbledore said, leaning forward. "Alastor found Mr. Doyle here wandering the corridors, clearly under the Imperius curse. We have yet to be able to lift it from him. Hopefully, you can assist."

Snape's mind whirred, turning over in his mind what this might mean. Dumbledore couldn't lift an Imperius curse? How could that be? Even Moody should have been able to lift it on his own.

"I believe I mentioned that I didn't consider teaching the children this particular curse was an intelligent course of action," Snape observed smoothly, standing in front of Doyle and turning his head from side to side.

Moody snorted. "Be that as it may, Snape, are ya able to assist or just stand there and let one of your own snakes be a pawn of this Dark Art?" Moody growled, savagely.

"Usually, the Imperius only cannot be lifted if the subject is still in the vicinity of the caster," Snape said quietly.

"Perhaps you cast it," Moody snapped.

"And yet I wasn't here when Albus tried to remove it, was I, Professor Moody," Snape hissed. The man was trying to blame him in front of Dumbledore. The realisation hit him full force: of course, Moody cast it on Doyle. But why, just to get Snape here in Dumbledore's office. It made no sense.

"Maybe, maybe, Snape. Clearly, it's been modified. But as a practitioner of the Dark Arts, perhaps you're able to relieve your student's distress," Moody snarled vehemently.

"There are chants I could try ..." Snape ventured.

"Then get on with it, man ..." Moody snapped. Snape looked to Dumbledore, wondering why he didn't intervene in this, but Dumbledore met his look of enquiry with interest only. Snape knew that time was running away from him, but he couldn't leave one of his students under this curse.

It was 6.30. If he could just get away now, he would have time to Apparate to Diagon Alley and get the Portkey but it had to be now.

He tried curse-breaking incantations he knew but the curse held fast. He was joined by Dumbledore in the incantations, but the curse held fast but they both perservered. As the clock drifted towards 7, the curse suddenly lifted and the boy reeled back as if released from suspension. He righted himself and looked about himself, clearly bewildered and babbling.

"Well, Mr. Doyle, good to have you back" Dumbledore said. "Take the Floo to Madam Pomfrey and I will join you there shortly and explain everything to you." The boy took himself off.

"Well, hats off to ya, Snape. Ya managed it," Moody said, looking wildly happy, perplexing Snape and, by the look on Dumbledore's face, the Headmaster too. "I think we need to discuss what happened with Mr Doyle and how it was that his curse couldn't be lifted in the usual way. We wouldn't want that spreading through the school, now would we?" Moody said casually.

It was now just past 7 p.m. and Snape felt nauseous. He was starting to panic inside now. Time was passing. He knew he'd missed the Portkey but he needed to get to his room at least. It was all he could do not to groan out loud, he felt so sick. He tried to make his excuses to leave, asking to postpone to another day, but Moody would not let him pass.

"Don't you think we should discuss what happened to your student, Snape?" Moody growled, blocking Snape's exit with his body, his eyes boring into Snape's. Snape saw a flash of triumph in Moody's natural eye as Snape felt his stomach start to cramp with ever increasing violence, and beads of perspiration popped on his skin and began to run.

Time had run out.

As Snape pitched forward in agony and began to vomit, he was sure he saw Moody's sneer broaden to a malicious smile. Dumbledore was at his side instantly. Then Snape understood why Moody had done it.

Poppy sounded calm but concerned as she ran her wand over Snape's convulsing, contorting body. He couldn't scream or even groan, the pain left him so breathless.

"Leave him with me, Albus," Poppy said shortly. "Now Severus," Poppy said kindly. "I've not seen these symptoms before, but I've read of them. You must be honest with me. We're in the side ward. It's quite private."

Snape opened his eyes and looked at her imploringly for relief. He touched his cravat briefly on the bite. Poppy nodded.

"I thought so," she whispered, and undid Snape's cravat to look at the bite. "I thought so when I realised it was the full moon, knowing what you two mean to each other. Oh dear."

She bathed his face and the neck, front and back, as Snape was sweating with fever now and the cramps were unrelenting. "There's only so much I'll be able to do," Poppy said sorrowfully. "It's the magical connection between you. It's not treatable as such. Oh, and poor Remus will be suffering too. I hope he has help there," Poppy muttered as she undressed Snape efficiently and placed him under cool sheets and administered a cooling charm over his body and some fever relief potion, taking the sharpest edge only off the cramp allowing him to breathe a little easier.

"Why didn't you arrange to be together?" Poppy asked, as she brushed his damp hair away from his face again.

"Had a Portkey arranged ... a cursed student ... couldn't get away ...," he said beathlessly and helplessly, with great effort.

"Oh Severus," Poppy breathed. "Well, I know now. I will ensure in the future you make your Portkey." She bathed his head and body throughout the night of fevered dreams of his mate in agony, thrashing in his own pain too.

The pain eased with the coming of the sun, only gradually lifting, each minute becoming more bearable. By dawn itself, Snape could breathe properly once more, and only suffered residual pains in his stomach muscles and Poppy was able to give him some fluids.

There were the bells of a Floo call and Poppy went to her office. Not long after, she marched back to inform Snape that she had just had a conversation with the Healer at the Romanian retreat who advised that Lupin was through his transformation and needed to know about Snape's well-being and wanted to speak to him as soon as possible.

"My wand ..." Snape whispered, his voice hoarse. Poppy passed it to him from the bedside cabinet and Snape Summoned the now shrunken mirror from his quarters. Poppy smiled and left him to speak.

"Remus," he rasped. Remus's face became visible.

"Severus. What happened to you?" Lupin asked, his voice weak and cracked and his skin ashen. He looked terrible.

"I couldn't get away. I couldn't get to the Portkey. Just cramps though. Fine now," Snape said, trying to make his voice sound strong, although his stomach muscles still had the resonances of cramp in them, even now. "How did it go for you?" He brought the mirror closer to him.

"My transformation hurt me – I have some injuries," Lupin said hesitantly. "The Healer will deal with them when you and I have spoken."

"How? How did that happen with Wolfsbane?" Snape asked worriedly.

"Oh, I kept my mind. It was just the transformation itself. It went ... badly because I also had convulsions during my transformation, so I broke some bones and tore some tendons, but they'll be dealt with shortly. It was hardly "just cramps", Severus. Are you well now?"

"Yes," Snape said gently, upset that Lupin was wounded because he had not understood what Moody was about soon enough. "Poppy tended me."

They agreed to speak when Lupin had been tended by the Healer. By this time, Snape was back in his quarters, had showered and had had breakfast there when Lupin called him in the mirror.

"What happened? How did you miss the Portkey?" Lupin asked, concern on his face.

"It was Moody," Snape said angrily. "He cursed a student and wouldn't lift it until it was too late for me to get to you."

"How can you say that?" Lupin demanded. "How would he know about my Claim and why would he curse a child? He knows me. Why would he do that?"

"We already know he doesn't think twice about hurting a child, Remus. And he knew," Snape said, knowingly.

"How could he?" Lupin demanded again.

"He looks at my neck exactly where your bite is, every time he sees me. He does it openly, almost like a confrontation."

"Well, how?" Lupin looked confused.

"With his magical eye, of course."

"You're imagining it, Severus," Lupin said, sounding frustrated.

"Remus! The only reason Dumbledore couldn't lift that curse is because the caster was in the room. It was Moody, I'm telling you. He only lifted it when it was too late. Don't look at me like that. I am not a fanciful man," said Snape, affronted.

"I beg to differ, Severus," snapped Lupin harshly, stunning Snape. "You always believe people I know are out to hurt you, especially where I'm concerned, but they are not. You must control this, Severus."

"So, you won't believe me even though it was you who suffered most by his actions?" Snape said, feeling deeply wounded by Lupin's disbelief.

"Alastor Moody would never deliberately hurt me, Severus. I trust him. And Albus would know if he'd done that. I can't believe you're right on this," Lupin said, shaking his head.

"No, Remus, no Gryffindor would ever believe I was right on anything, not Albus and not you" he snapped crossly. He knew he'd made mistakes before with Lupin, but knew he wasn't making one now and his stomach roiled that even his own beloved thought he was untrustworthy.

"Please, let's talk of other things." Lupin's expression softened but Snape's stomach was lurching with offence and betrayal.

"Maybe tomorrow," Snape said curtly and turned his mirror over, mortified and hurt, cast a silencing charm over the mirror so he couldn't hear Lupin calling him and stormed out of his quarters to walk the grounds before classes.
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You Will Not Kiss Me