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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
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Direct quotes from chapter 20 of GoF are in bold and © J.K. Rowling.

Chapter 36: Thoughts on Possession

Having told Lupin about the possession of Quirrell by the Dark Lord, he had inadvertently opened the floodgates of Potter's indiscretions and self-endangerment to Lupin's scrutiny and horror. They were having lunch al fresco on their small room terrace outside their French windows. Lupin would not be satisfied until he had heard all the details that Snape knew and Snape had to confess that he did not, by any means, know all of it.

"So you are telling me that, aged 11, Harry and his friends got past these obstacles into each of these chambers leaving Harry to try to defend the Stone on his own in the last chamber, and he came face to face with Voldemort who used Quirrell to try to wrest the Stone from him and that Harry's touch – the touch of his hands - killed Quirrell. Harry passed out at this point but Dumbledore finally turned up, and Voldemort fled. That is an accurate summary?" Lupin's chest was heaving and his nostrils flared with his barely suppressed anger.

"As I understand it, that's correct," Snape nodded.

"Harry's touch! And Albus says that touch burned and killed a man because of his mother's sacrificial love? Well, that's completely twisted. Did Harry get any counselling? No? Words fail me. I shall have words with Albus!" Lupin chomped aggressively on his rare steak.

"It does rather leave logic standing. I have not really been able to justify it to myself," Snape said, contemplatively. Not least because I failed to stop the Dark Lord himself laying violent hands on Lily's child through Quirrell. I suspected Quirrell and yet I failed at the first real hurdle, he thought miserably, and not for the first time.

"And in addition, they battled a mountain troll?"

"Correct," Snape said patiently, understanding Lupin's agitation.

"A Cerberus?" Lupin carried on the list insistently.

"Yes."

"A life-size wizard's chess set?" Lupin's voice slightly rising.

"Devil's Snare and poisonous potions?" Snape nodded. "How was that even allowed?" Lupin demanded.

"In fairness, it would not have happened if your Mr. Potter were not such a determined rule breaker," Snape said softly, knowing it wasn't what Lupin wanted to hear.

"You're too hard on him." Lupin snapped.

"And you're too soft," Snape rebuked.

Lupin stopped eating, and rested his mouth against his hand.

"Dare I ask if, at least, his second year passed uneventfully?" Lupin asked, and it was clear from his face he already suspected not.

Snape shifted uncomfortably. He wondered how just how deeply the revelations and dangers Potter had faced in his second year would distress Lupin. That Potter was a Parselmouth? That he had found the Chamber of Secrets? Had sustained the mortal bite of the Basilisk, but had been cured by Fawkes's tears? Had fought and slain the Basilisk with the Sword of Gryffindor? (What would Lupin think of a Basilisk roaming the subterranean pipes of the castle for a thousand years as a Dark creature specialist?) That Potter had come face to face with some form of revenant of the Dark Lord that was draining the youngest Weasley of her very life force? (A revenant that Dumbledore to this day refused to discuss with Snape. What was Albus hiding? Snape wondered yet again. He suspected Lupin would too.)

"Finish your lunch, Remus," Snape said, now drawing his own hand over his face. This was not going to be enjoyable. "There is much to tell you, but after you have eaten."

Snape returned to Hogwarts in time for lunch on the Sunday. He had told Lupin all he knew of the Chamber of Secrets that Saturday afternoon. They had discussed at length what the existence of the revenant might mean and how Dark that particular magic was. Lupin said he had theories of his own he wanted to think on but it was clearer to him now than ever that the child was central to the Dark Lord's plans.

After this serious afternoon, they had then made the most of their time together, rarely leaving their bed, up to the moment they had parted. He hadn't wanted to leave Lupin at all knowing it would be another twenty-eight days before he could touch him again. Perhaps, it made the full moon sweeter and more intense for them. Perhaps. All he knew was that he missed him physically and tangibly, every day. The next full moon was after the school broke up for Christmas, but this year most of the students, fourth years and above would stay for the Yule Ball for the Triwizard Championship which was to be held Christmas night itself. He would see Lupin for the full moon for a couple of days, but then he would have to be back at school for Christmas and not see him again until Boxing Day. Snape found he was quite unhappy about that.

Christmas. He needed to put his mind to a present. He'd made Lily presents when they were young: small charms and magical trinkets. She had loved them all. She used to buy him books or small items of equipment she knew he couldn't afford. He always felt so shamed, but knew she had the best intentions. He wanted to buy Lupin some new clothes, but he remembered his own shame at his poverty. He didn't want to offend Lupin but, then again, Lupin seemed to let very little worry him. He certainly never appeared abashed by his poor clothing. He would have to think on it: make sure it was perfect.

Still, there was plenty to do before that. This coming week was the first task. That Sunday evening, Charlie Weasley and his team had asked the teachers to join them in the Hog's Head for a drink, as the dragons were still under the travelling stupefaction charms. Snape went along, in the feisty company of Minerva and Pomona, who he was entranced to see had become quite giggly in the company of Charlie. He wasn't sure he could quite fathom what had come over Pomona, a matriarch and senior teacher of the school who had taught Charlie from the age of 11. Snape allowed himself a small smile. He suspected that Charlie's leather vest jackets, showing his well developed torso and some rather shiny burns and his dragon tattoos possibly made him rather exotic to Pomona. He found himself secretly pleased Lupin was not here. Heaven knows what he'd make of Charlie. Snape didn't know whether to admire the man himself or just go straight to being jealous that Lupin would not be able to help but admire him.

Of course, he said very little to Charlie, but he listened with interest to the stories he and his team told. He smiled to see Hagrid so happy in these young men's company in what surely must be Hagrid's dream job.

"I love dragons," Hagrid kept saying, becoming more misty-eyed as the evening wore on. Snape was quite sure he heard Hagrid mention Charlie collecting a baby Norwegian Ridgeback dragon from Potter in his first year, but saw Charlie boot Hagrid quite aggressively under the table. He groaned mentally. If he told Lupin this, the man would probably have a nervous breakdown. A dragon on top of everything else. Perhaps, he would forget he had heard it.

Contrary to every natural inclination of Snape's, he found there was a scintilla of excitement for the first task. He had been fairly disconcerted that the Ministry had changed the original task that had been suggested to one with nesting dam dragons, making them far more dangerous. Why did everyone conspire to make Snape's vow to protect that brat practically impossible? He was having difficulty stretching his imagination as to how to help the brat with the task.

Everyone knew the Conjunctivitis curse surely – if Potter didn't, someone would tell him. Hell, Snape had used it himself on the brat's father after the incident at the lake, when he had caught Potter on his own and they had duelled. He's spent quite a long time polishing trophies for that one. He smirked: it had been worth it. If his class mates didn't know, Black surely would surely tell him. Black had spent the whole of the next term trying to return the curse on Snape whenever he saw him. Strange (Snape thought) how Black's ineptitude meant he never received a detention for casting the same curse on Snape, although he must have tried at least six times that Snape could recall, even in front of teachers. He shook his head: and they said he was an unfair teacher!

The first task was over. Wizarding radio had relayed live commentary by Ludo Bagman so, thank Merlin, Snape wouldn't need to recount it all blow by blow to Lupin. However, Lupin was overflowing with excitement when Snape called him with the mirror after the task was completed.

"Yes, I heard it, but I want you to tell me Severus! Describe how Harry flew for me!"

"You are a doting fool, Remus."

"Yes, I am, Severus. I saw him fly last year. He was terrific. Just like James, but faster! Please describe it for me, my love. Tell me how you saw it. You know I love to hear your voice."

Buttering me up, like I would fall for that! Snape thought with wry amusement. Why not? Lupin was sometimes like an excited child. If he wanted melodrama – then Snape would provide it for him for no better reason than to make Lupin smile, because he adored Lupin's smile."Well then," he said mellifluously, propping the mirror up on his table, settling in his chair with a glass of Firewhiskey swilling in his hand, "the other three champions had finished, with varying degrees of success. Only Potter remained. The spectators were thoroughly worked into a frenzy..."

"Were you, Severus?" Lupin asked, grinning. "In a frenzy?"

"Certainly not," Snape drawled, as he raised an eyebrow with mock severity. "In the scheme of magical showmanship, our three champions were ... shall we say ... pedestrian at best. But a crowd makes for adrenaline and spectacle. So ... out came Potter ..."

"Will you call him Harry for me?" Lupin asked gently.

"No. Don't start this interrupting idiocy again!" Snape said, staring at Lupin intensely.

Lupin nodded, but was still smiling.

"So, out came Potter. He looked ... I have to say ... small." Snape's face became thoughtful at this. Perhaps it was the very direct nature of the threat that made him think so. It was the only time he had thought Potter looked vulnerable in all the time he had known him. The moment passed.

"And there was the Horntail, at the other end of the enclosure, crouched low over her clutch of eggs, her wings half-furled, her evil, yellow eyes upon him, a monstrous, scaly, black lizard, thrashing her spiked tail, heaving yard-long gouge marks in the hard ground. ... Potter raised his wand. We all wondered what feat of magic he would perform. We had seen Diggory transfigure a rock into a dog – creditable but almost suicidal when the dragon lost interest in the mutt, and Diggory was injured. The girl had entranced the dragon relatively successfully, until it snored and flamed her clothes!" Snape snorted at the recollection, which appealed to his rather mordant sense of humour. "Krum's Conjunctivitis charm was poorly cast – hurt the dragon and she crushed some of her eggs. It had been relatively lacklustre. How would the Boy Who Lived perform?" he drawled sarcastically, as Lupin rolled his eyes and laughed softly at Snape's sarcastic recollection.

"Well you know what he did. You heard the commentary. But, I can tell you, I was aghast when he cried, "Accio Firebolt!" A first year Summoning charm for that damn broomstick! We were breathless. Oh, the sheer cheek of it! The Quidditch player using his Quidditch skills!" Snape was laughing softly now. "Remus, I would dearly like to be scornful, but it was a stroke of brilliance. The dragon is chained, of course the child will be able to circumvent her – he is a Seeker." Then Snape's face became very serious – he was thinking. "It was such a stroke of genius that I don't believe Potter thought of it himself." He said definitely and quietly. Before Lupin could ask why, Snape recommenced his narrative, leaning to the mirror, lowering his voice to maintain suspense.

"Then, we all heard it, speeding through the air ... his Firebolt hurtling toward him around the edge of the woods, soaring into the enclosure, and stopping dead in midair beside him, waiting for him to mount. The crowd was making even more noise. He ... kicked off from the ground. And he soared upward ... high above the clamour of the spectators and you knew ... just looking at him you knew ... This was just another Quidditch match, that was all… and that Horntail was just another opposing team." Snape surprised himself how much he realised he had attuned himself to the boy during the task. He knew the truth of what he had just said. He smiled at Lupin, as if he were just embellishing for his sake.

"We saw him hovering above the clutch of eggs, assessing his trajectory then he dived. The Horntail's head followed him; he ... pulled out of the dive just in time; a jet of fire had been released exactly where he would have been had he not swerved away."

"And that's when Bagman yelled, "Great Scott, he can fly! Are you watching this, Mr. Krum?"" Lupin interjected excitedly.

Snape nodded indulgently. "Potter soared higher in a circle; the Horntail was still following his progress; its head revolving on its long neck – making it dizzy but didn't do it long enough to frustrate the animal and make it flame – clever boy," Snape said, almost to himself. Then he brightened, "Then Potter plummeted just as the Horntail opened its mouth, but this time he was less lucky - he missed the flames, but the tail came whipping up to meet him instead, and as he swerved to the left, one of the long spikes grazed his shoulder, ripping his robes! The spectators were screaming and groaning, but the cut didn't seem to be deep.

"Now he zoomed around the back of the Horntail. The Horntail didn't seem to want to take off, she was too protective of her eggs. Though she writhed and twisted, furling and unfurling her wings and keeping those fearsome yellow eyes on Potter, she was clearly afraid to move too far from them." Snape's voice had become low and urgent, and Lupin was mesmerised.

"Potter began to fly, first this way, then the other, not near enough to make her breathe fire to stave him off, but still posing a sufficient threat to ensure she kept her eyes on him. Her head swayed following him, her fangs bared. He flew higher. The Horntail's head rose with him, her neck now stretched to its fullest extent, still swaying, like a snake before its charmer. Potter rose a few more feet, and she let out a roar of exasperation." Lupin's eyes widened at Snape's description of the enraged animal.

"It was obvious that he was like a fly she was longing to swat; her tail thrashed again, but he was too high to reach now… She shot fire into the air, which he dodged… Her jaws opened wide. She reared, spreading her great, black, leathery wings at last, as wide as those of a small airplane - and Potter dived." Snape's narrative had sped up now, and Lupin was leaning forward into the mirror, not taking his eyes from Snape.

"In an instant, before the dragon knew what he had done, or where he had disappeared to, he was speeding toward the ground, toward the eggs now unprotected by her clawed front legs - he had taken his hands off his Firebolt - he had seized the golden egg – And with a huge spurt of speed, he was off, he was soaring out over the stands, the heavy egg safely under his uninjured arm. The crowd went beserk. Potter had done it." Snape said with finality and sat back, looking at Lupin's rapt face with some satisfaction.

"Marvellous, Severus! That was excellent! Like a Master Storywright." Lupin sat back, grinning hugely. "Well, here's to Harry, and his successful first task," Lupin said, raising his glass of Firewhiskey.

Snape raised his glass to his lover, rather than to the child in question. They both drank deeply. The Lupin exhaled heavily.

"I do have some news," Lupin said. "Sirius spoke to Harry before the first task. Sirius thinks Karkaroff is responsible. What do you think of that theory?"

"Igor Karkaroff is a coward. I know him of old. The Dark Lord would have had to have declared not only his return, but his total forgiveness of Igor before Igor would support him again and prejudice the comfortable life he has now." Snape shook his head. "No, I don't think he's responsible," Snape said firmly.

"Sirius also mentioned to me that a Ministry witch has gone missing. A witch who knew about the plans for the Triwizard Tournament. Do you remember Bertha Jorkins? A couple of years above us?"

"I do. A complete dunderhead," Snape snorted, dismissively.

"Unkind, but yes. Well, she went missing in the summer ... in Albania. ..." Lupin allowed the words to hang in the air. Snape closed his eyes slowly. He and Lupin had to be right. They just had to be. Too much was connected.

"So ... I think we can assume that is how the Dark Lord came by his information," Snape said softly, his mind starting to work very fast indeed. Moody, he knew the key was Moody. But how and what were the intervening steps to his possession? "If the Dark Lord got the information from Bertha Jorkins – and that would be simple enough with a witless fool like she was, how ... how did he get to Moody?" He drummed his fingers on his table trying to help himself to think.

"He has help – he must have help. Probably, that blasted Pettigrew is with him. There's nowhere else for him to go." He heard Lupin curse under his breath. "It's still such a stretch to possessing Moody. Moody's a powerful wizard – it won't have been easy." Snape continued to drill his fingers on the table percussively. The Dark Lord possesses greater ingenuity than anyone; he would find a way. His reverie was interrupted by Lupin.

"Sirius also mentioned that Alastor had intruders the night before he was due to go to Hogwarts. I saw that in The Prophet but Harry confirmed it to Sirius – Arthur Weasley heard about it. I wondered if that was perhaps when ... you know ... Alastor might have been got at by Voldemort. Have you thought anymore on the casting?"

"I have. It's a question of the appropriate moment."

"I know Alastor well. At least, I believe I do. He has foe glasses, secrecy sensors, sneakoscopes, all manner of detectors. You won't be able to sneak up on him. How will you cast it?"

"I was going to cast the revealing incantation at the first opportunity. But you are right. I need to be more circumspect. I think I have the kernel of an idea but I'll need to work on it. That said, if I disappear and all that's found is a heap of ashes, you may tell Albus that I have discovered the Dark Lord is teaching Defence against the Dark Arts at Hogwarts." Snape smiled his small, tight smile, but Lupin didn't smile. He looked worried.

"Lie with me, Severus."

Snape had scoured the library, but could not find what he wanted. He just needed to know for sure. It had been worrying him. Then the thought struck him: Poppy.

It was a difficult conversation to start, although why, when Poppy knew everything down to Lupin's Claim on Snape, he did not know. He wondered how other people could be so at ease with others knowing about their lives, when he just could not be. So, he asked her, in his stiff and stilted manner, if she had a proper medical text for werewolves. On receiving her confirmation, he awkwardly told her how he needed to learn to care for Lupin at the transformations and just in case they were not near a Healer ...

"... and I wondered if..." Snape said, quickly to cover his embarrassment.

"... you could borrow it? Of course, Severus. It's a splendid idea as you're ... well. It's a splendid idea," she said firmly. She went to her small library, and found it. It was a compendious, leather-bound tome – Grey's Complete Lycanthrope – 78th Edition.

"I don't know if it's been updated since I got this. It's old now. Albus ordered it to help me when Remus joined the school. Of course, it doesn't cover Wolfsbane, but I don't believe there have been any other advances, so you're very welcome to it, Severus." Poppy handed him the hefty book as if passing a torch. Perhaps, in a way, she was, having cared so carefully for the boy for so many years.

He sat down with the book, and a glass of Firewhiskey. He was due to call Lupin in an hour, but that should be just enough time to check on what Lupin had told him.

There were several chapters on mating, breeding, the Wolf's Kiss was even covered. (Snape felt vaguely green that Poppy should even know of it.) He flicked through them all impatiently and then he saw it: a photographic plate of a pregnant man. A very heavily pregnant man. He drew his hand over his face. He felt ill. Lupin had sworn he wouldn't. He had sworn to him. But Snape was disturbed that it was even a possibility. He had subjugated himself so completely to Lupin – hungrily, willingly, and lovingly. Would he end up like this for that weakness? The man in the photograph looked down and then stroked his pregnant belly in the manner of all pregnant women. He looked proud. Snape shook his head. It was the ultimate degradation in his mind. Imagine the shame – the laughter – the jibes. It could not be borne. It must not happen.

He looked at the diagram in the next plate. A cross section of a man's torso, but with a womb and a foetus gestating. But how? Remus said he could make a womb. Make a womb! How was it possible? He drank his Firewhiskey and refilled his glass before he read.

The male werewolf sometimes chooses as its mate a male werewolf or wizard. This mating is as strong as male/female mating. The male werewolf can take any beta female in the pack if he chooses and impregnate her instead, but most werewolves choose their alpha mates for the purpose of breeding. When the mating is very strong, the werewolf male may choose to procreate with his male mate.

The werewolf's saliva, as we have seen for various other Lycanthropic traits, such as its Claim and its Kiss, carries the very active and potent Lycanthropic curse. When applied to the male mate's umbilicus with intention, it creates a magical pathway to locate behind the bladder the magical womb for the impregnation of the male mate by the male werewolf.

The werewolf male will find his mate's umbilicus highly attractive. It shares the same magical signature as the werewolf male's Claiming bites and the werewolf male's instincts to create the womb will be strong and difficult for him to resist. The creation of the pathway is powerfully erotic to both mates, its purpose to encourage through its eroticism the procreation of the species. The womb, once created, only lasts for the following procreative act and ritual. If there is no impregnation, the magical womb will dissipate.

Unlike male/female procreation, the male mate does not create eggs for fertilisation within his body. An external charm is used over their combined essences to create the zygote for ritual implantation by the couple. The incantation must be intoned by the couple themselves, and cannot be conducted without the full consent of both mates nor can either mate be under the Imperius curse or any other form of coercion.

Well, now he knew now why Lupin was fascinated with his stomach. It was a drive, an urge, an instinct. Lupin wanted to make a womb in him. He could do that without Snape's consent, but could not make the child. At least Snape still had this control. He re-read that part of the chapter over and over. He didn't want a child by any method and he certainly didn't want to be pregnant. He needed to recognise if Lupin tried to do this. He knew he shouldn't feel this: it wasn't the trust he'd promised Lupin. But Snape was frightened of it – of losing possession of himself so completely.

It was very difficult to attempt a revealing casting over someone who had protected themselves against castings in the manner that Alastor Moody had in tandem with all manner of protective devices. Rather than casting a revealing charm, Snape worked a runic casting. It had taken him days to develop and then he cast the runes over the threshold of his own classroom. His classroom was his domain and Moody would not be able to undo the runes. He cast it wide enough so that any possession of a body by another wizard would be revealed.

He intended now to find a reason to ask Moody and Dumbledore to his classroom and all would be revealed.
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You Will Not Kiss Me