Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

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
- 58
- 59
- 60
Chapter 59: Connections Made

Over the following week, both men set about their tasks.

Snape worked throughout the week to put together potions that were simple in ingredients, method and equipment. He had devised a muscle relaxant, nutrient supplements and pain relief from the ingredients that Angharad had identified and that would not be too pungent and nauseating for a werewolf to mix and brew. It was a testament to their extraordinary connection that, before Snape had left to return to Hogwarts, he had entered Lupin's mind and leafed through memories of Lupin's potions lessons from their school days to catalogue the difference in smells between his own well trained olfactory senses and those acute animal senses of the werewolf. Together, they had painstakingly gone through every ingredient that Snape had considered for the simplified brews, and then through the mixes and stages of brew as those scents changed. Snape had been shocked by the nauseating or even narcotic effect of many smells or fumes that he himself had always considered innocuous or even rather pleasant. He altered his recipes accordingly, using his encyclopaedic knowledge of ingredient modification and substitution as he went along. They had sat together mentally cataloguing in this manner for hours, oblivious to Idris watching them at the door of the round house.

Lupin, whilst consolidating his position of trust with Idris to train the pack for combat against Greyback and his henchmen, began to piece together more of Idris's story from his conversations with him, and he shared it with Snape when they met in the farmhouse prior to going to the pack the following weekend. The story that emerged so moved and shocked Snape that he told it in its entirety to Dumbledore on his return, some of which Dumbledore knew, but certain, shocking details, he had not.

Dumbledore told the tale.

"It had become quickly apparent that the young Hufflepuff could hear Wandsong. I needn't tell you that this magical gift appears perhaps once a century. Within weeks of joining the school, he had listened avidly to every one of his House mates' wands, making notes for himself of his new discoveries. His aptitude for Wandsong was prodigious. This gift was as much the subject of gossip and conjecture amongst pupils and staff as the discovery of Harry Potter being a Parselmouth had been, but without the Dark connotations.

"Garrick Ollivander, a Ravenclaw prefect at the time, was told by Headmaster Dippet of young Lydiard's ability, rather than spotting it himself but, yes, he told his father. Gervaise Ollivander did indeed approach Vereticus Lydiard to request his son in Apprenticeship. At first, Lydiard was furious. He wanted his son to follow him into politics, certainly not into an artisan trade. It was actually Headmaster Dippet who convinced Lydiard that Idris's ability was so rare that it would be a great deprivation to the wizarding community to refuse to allow him to learn the craft from Ollivander.

"Then, as you know, Idris worked for Ollivander each summer. Gervaise himself told me that the boy's talent was extraordinary and he learnt about the craft alarmingly quickly. He worked there for four summers and other holidays, and studied all he could about wand lore before the attack that Turned him in the new year of his OWL year.

"Now, you have told me that a prefect at the time had tried to inveigle Idris to steal wands from Ollivander. When Idris refused, this boy tricked him into a meeting in the woods where Vargulf was waiting to Turn him at the full moon. This I did not know. What little I knew about his fate, I found out from his best friend at school who hounded Lydiard for information. I will come back to him. First, I want to tell you about Vargulf.

"Vargulf was every bit as violent and depraved as Greyback, if not more so. He too would lie in wait for his prey to Turn them at the rising of the moon. He was the first werewolf I knew of who could force his body to Turn outside the cycle of the moon and who would bite in his human form. He was powerful and every inch a Dark creature. Eventually, Vargulf was defeated at a great old age, and killed by another werewolf – one of his very own Turning ..."

"Greyback?" Snape interjected with a fascinated whisper.

Dumbledore nodded. "Indeed. And so the world turns. Greyback it was who turned Remus, as you know, even then trying to recruit for his own werewolf army from the children of those who offended him or latterly his master." Dumbledore sighed hugely.

"The year that Idris Lydiard was bitten by a werewolf was the year that Mr Tom Riddle was a prefect at Hogwarts." Dumbledore paused to allow this information to sink in. Snape's eyes narrowed as he took in the revelation.

"It wasn't until the first wizarding war that I found out that, even as a teenager, Tom had recruited Vargulf with promises of a wand (that Idris was to steal) and various other freedoms to do his bidding. I believe Tom thought, once Idris refused, if Vargulf Turned him, Vargulf would force Idris to make his werewolves their wands. I never found Idris, and I assume, neither Tom nor Vargulf were able to." Dumbledore exhaled heavily. "We missed so much Darkness under our very noses at Hogwarts with him. His demeanour of this intelligent and gracious student was almost perfect. I had some reservations about him, but I should have watched him more carefully than I did." Dumbledore sighed heavily again, Snape presumed with the weight of guilt for what could have been prevented.

"We know now, of course, that he had unleashed the basilisk in the Chamber of Secrets and created the revenant memory in the diary. I shouldn't be shocked he was already in league with a Dark creature such as Vargulf." Dumbledore shook his head and pursed his lips as he thought on it. Snape recalled suddenly the book he had been perusing in the library before Black had attacked him. He should find it again. As he was thinking it, a question nagged at him.

"You told us that Idris's father told everyone his son was dead. If you had found him, what would have happened?"

"You will think me quite foolish, Severus," Dumbledore said, quietly, his expression wistful. "I planned to adopt him. That was my plan. I had ... much to atone for personally. If I could save and help a child from a Dark and painful future, then I was determined to do it."

Snape could not hide his shock at this revelation. "Adopt? You? Albus Dumbledore?"

Dumbledore laughed softly. "I was a mere stripling in my late fifties at the time! There are family quarters here. Idris was a kind and talented boy. It was wrong to put him out of the wizarding world." He sighed. "Had I found him and adopted him, I have no doubt I would have been pilloried as a madman. I am used to this." Dumbledore looked over his glasses, his eyes amused and then he became more serious. "Perhaps, I could have shown the wizarding world how their perceptions of werewolves were wrong. But it was not to be."

Snape was nothing short of stunned and it took some time for him to assimilate the enormity of what Dumbledore had hoped to do. Then his other question came back to his mind.

"Who was the friend who alerted you to what had happened to Idris? Garrick Ollivander?"

"No, no. The significance of this will not, I believe, be lost on you. Idris's best friend at school was a pureblood he met on the Hogwarts Express in their first year: Mr. Alphard Black." Dumbledore leaned forward, his tone low and confidential.

"There was a reason why Walburga Black blasted her dear brother from their family tapestry. He, like his nephew, not only befriended entirely unsuitably - a half-blood Hufflepuff, but then tried to move heaven and earth to find that friend once he had become a half-breed: conduct most unbecoming the Ancient and Most Noble House of Black, I think you'll agree. A dogged loyalty." Dumbledore smiled a small, but sour smile. "Walburga Black threatened to expose the secret of the Lydiard family if young Alphard insisted on pursuing his search for his friend. At that time, there may still have been hope of finding him. We all acquiesced to her wishes in the hope that Idris could be found and brought home without publicising his Turning." Dumbledore looked distant for a while, then focused once more on Snape. "But he was never found. Young Alphard spent years after leaving Hogwarts looking for him.

"You of course are well versed in the resonances of this through the Black history. Walburga Black was nothing if not defensive of the Black ancestral name. I hope that perhaps you will understand that had I expelled Sirius, Remus's secret would have been published far and wide. Walburga Black would have seen to it. I did not, back then, see the deep wounds it caused you. I am sorry that I have not made my contrition for it plain. I was trying to save a boy in the way I had failed forty years before."

Snape regarded Dumbledore coolly, their eyes locking. Snape might even admit to himself that he could see now why Dumbledore had acted in the partisan way he had, but how did that make up for the terror he had suffered from that day onward? How did that make up for the utter worthlessness it had made him feel to be so disregarded? He could understand the behaviour now, but he did not think he could forgive it. Probably not ever. Snape was not a forgiving man.

"Oak and Welsh dragon heart string. Given to us by the mountain," Idris said, as he passed the finished stave to Snape.

"How so?" Snape asked quietly, rolling the delicate wand in his fingers with reverence as Lupin watched.

"I'll slaughter no dragons for my wands," Idris said stoutly. "There is a place that dragons go to die, high in Snowdon, away from prying eyes. With the blessing of the mountain, I take the dragons' hearts when they pass." Snape wondered what happened to the rest of the dragons' bodies, but thought he might commit some great solecism if he asked this man to add such to his Potions store. He held his tongue.

"Do you use any other core material?" Lupin asked as he now held the wand that Snape passed to him.

"Only one other I can get hereabout – unicorn hair. Not so rare." He gave the men a grim smile. "Don't have to wait a millennium to get it! Use the young cubs to collect it." Idris nodded his head to the young girls of the pack, the virgins who could approach the unicorns. "It takes me time," Idris said, "to make each wand, but it's a joy to do it for our young." Idris stood and scuffed the ground with his foot, his jaw set. "Greyback and his master want me for this reason – to be a wandmaker for werewolves. It cost me much to refuse him last time, but I'll not do it for murderers and strangers. It's only for pack." Lupin handed back the wand, and Idris wandered away to chide children who were playing roughly.

"What did it cost him?" Snape asked as he watched Idris leave. Lupin shrugged and shook his head.

"I don't know," he said thoughtfully. "But you can see why Albus hopes he will be a beacon for werewolves who want to stay with the Light."

"I certainly can. It also seems to me that the more I think about it, the more I cannot see who would put a wandmaker out of a pack if Idris wanted to cede his leadership to a new recruit somewhere down the line."

Lupin nodded, clearly thinking this over.

oooOOOooo

It had not escaped Snape's notice that the only werewolves who were there to learn to make the first of his potions and unguents were female. He took a deep breath. That there was some giggling had not eluded him either. He remembered when he had first started to teach at Hogwarts, he was barely twenty-one, and some of the NEWT students remembered him as a student. He had been nervous. Not of his subject, of course. There was no better exponent of the craft of Potions than he. He had no lack of confidence in that. But he did not like children. He didn't care if they were boys or girls: they were equally odious as far as he was concerned. He did not like being questioned. He did not like pranking, joking, teasing or giggling. In short, his idea of a perfect class was an empty one. He had quickly learnt to turn his acerbic tongue, bad temper and cold demeanour to good use. His reputation as an intimidating, unpleasant and unforgiving teacher was quickly earned and he fostered it and quelled the children within weeks.

And now here he was: back to square one, but hobbled because he stood before girls and women who had seen him intimate and half naked with his mate; knew they thought he "served" Lupin like a woman; knew that as a wizard, they considered him less than a wolf. He found himself exquisitely embarrassed and he was unable to summon his usual sarcasm to his defence because Lupin had asked him to try to be pleasant so his mission was not jeopardised. He thought that, at this precise moment in time, he hated Lupin, as his audience giggled and whispered about him behind their hands. He pinched the bridge of nose quite hard, with the sudden recollection that it was not his nose. It was a revelation.

Why should he care? He was not Severus Snape, Head of Slytherin House, Death Eater, spy, and the bat of the Hogwarts dungeons; he was Seth Moore, itinerant tutor and mate of a werewolf, who joined in the werewolf rut. He calmed down, ignoring the sniggers, and looked over to his left where Lupin and some other men of the pack were chopping logs. He didn't know why they didn't chop the wood with magic, although he suspected it was Idris's way of ensuring they built up their physical strength, but as he watched Lupin flex and wield the axe in a wide arc, he was glad they didn't. It was, he believed what Lupin would call, a very pleasant "visual". He smiled briefly and privately as his attention was called back by Angharad.

"I think," said Angharad, as she set out batches of ingredients on the rough hewn table in front of Snape, "that you should pay attention to what Seth Moore has to tell us. We've discussed this brewin', he and me, and it will help us and our old folk. We should all list and learn." She spoke kindly but Snape noticed that her gaze swept all of the onlookers, just as Idris did when he addressed the pack. She was Idris's mate, the alpha female, and Snape felt even more that he was being pigeon-holed in a submissive role.

So the brewing session, the first of a few agreed with Angharad, ground on, Angharad maintaining the decorum of the lesson by force of her status. He had promised Lupin to behave so he bit down any acidic comments leaving it to Anghard to deal with unpleasant comments and conjectures about his manliness because, he kept reminding himself, he was Seth Moore, and besides, he genuinely wanted to help. He also wanted to understand the ailments of the older werewolves so he needed to co-operate with Angharad and keep her confidence. He needed to understand the nature of their weakness as they got older so he could start to research how he would help Lupin avoid those weaknesses, and maybe – just maybe – broaden his horizons - and look for a cure.

Of course, many greater minds than his had tried and failed to find a cure for Lupin's curse. But had any, he wondered, been so greatly motivated by love as he?

oooOOOooo

"It was torture," Snape said, when the brewing session had finished. "You have finally cemented my position as your beta female," Snape huffed, his tone not quite as light as he had tried for.

Lupin wrapped his arm around Snape and led him to the roundhouse and they sat together on his bedding and Lupin kissed him.

"I'm sorry, my love, that you find it challenging. It's cultural for them. They just do not understand who or what you are." Lupin nuzzled at his neck and held his hands lightly.

"Most of the young unclaimed females fancy you!" Snape spat. "What on earth am I supposed to do about that?"

"I suggest, nothing, since they are not to my taste, as you know," Lupin said gently, still nuzzling at Snape's neck, drinking in his scent as if it were a muscle relaxant in itself. Lupin looked up and into Snape's eyes.

When we are home, I will make it up to your bruised manhood, I promise, Lupin thought. Sit in my mind with me.

Being with the pack meant Lupin and Snape did not have the type of sexual contact they were used to. The only time the members of the pack had sex was during the night-time rut. Nor did they indulge in other ways of pleasing each other. Both men missed it and Lupin had taken to inviting Snape to his mind, their only privacy now, and where they could experience whatever they wanted.

Legilimens.

Snape always took his time to savour this place where none could encroach on their feelings for each other. Being here cradled and nourished him in Lupin's love for him, and made his heart swell painfully.

"I miss our time alone together," Snape thought. He felt Lupin's hum in the back of his throat reverberate pleasantly in his own body.

"I miss all the ways we make love, Severus."

"I wish to be lost in you," Snape thought longingly. It had been months since he had taken Lupin and he yearned for it once more.

"Soon, my love. I will be home soon. We will love as wizards, not wolves, soon."

The men sat for a while basking in the intimacy, Lupin's arms wrapped around Snape, as he held Lupin's chin in his hand, his wand aloft as they shared their connection.

"We could live a memory again, Severus. We'd both enjoy it." Snape heard the enticing warmth in Lupin's thought.

"Which?" Snape responded, desire pooling in his groin at the thought.

"Oh, we have so many." Snape heard Lupin's breath hitch in desire. "Our bonding night," Lupin thought definitely. "When you took me so beautifully. Let's revisit that together."

Lupin took Snape to the memory of that night upon the mountain as the phoenix song finished. Snape felt its song piercing Lupin's soul, already blissfully happy as he held his mate's arm, the bonding taken. He felt Lupin's passion as he kissed Snape and Snape had responded with passion, but such gentleness as made Lupin's heart feel like breaking. How tenderly Snape had undressed him, and how he had covered him with caresses and kisses in a way that spoke of such gentle love. Snape felt Lupin's emotions welling inside painfully as his love for Snape felt close to overflowing. He felt all of Lupin's physical pleasure at Snape's love-making, just as Lupin was now feeling his, but it was Lupin's emotions that blew Snape's mind with the intensity of the passion they held for him as Snape had attenuated his preparation of Lupin to drive his desire to a pinnacle of ecstasy, charged by the magic of the mountain, and he felt Lupin reaching that pinnacle and crying out to Snape to satisfy his yearning.

The sharing now was so powerful that both men were almost incoherent even in their mind voices as they felt their own charged emotions and those of the other, felt their own skin being touched by the other and yet feeling the other also. It was almost too much to bear when finally they recalled how Snape's forbearance had snapped hearing Lupin's wanton begging twinned with the accumulating magic and how Snape had thrust into Lupin's eager and ready body, and their mounting passions had driven them against each other, noisily and desperately, Snape's mind lost to the conflagration that consumed his and Lupin's bodies – the joy of their bonding consummation, layered and doubled.

They felt the intensity and joy of each other's orgasm as well as their own, a complete interweaving of their bodies and souls through their minds, and Snape once again wondered how it was possible, even with magic, to feel so completely immersed in and cherished by one's mate, as they came together on the shared memories, thinking their love and adoration to each other, before eventually kissing lightly and Snape leaving Lupin's mind softly and then cleansing them both.

At the doorway, Idris had watched the wordless exchange again. His brow furrowed trying to understand what passed between the men. This time, it was undoubtedly some form of sexual congress: that much was apparent from the scent of their acute arousal and climax, but the manner of it was something he had not seen before. Seth Moore had used the mind-reading spell on Remus Lupin and Remus Lupin had allowed it, welcomed it even. He didn't know much about the mind-reading spell, although he had always been adept at blocking it. He doubted he would trust anyone enough to enter his mind, let alone dwell in it as Remus Lupin clearly trusted his wizard mate.

Was it right for a werewolf's human mate to take a werewolf by his mind, if not his body? Idris's dominant wolf's instincts reared up against it. And yet, he saw the look in the men's eyes as they regarded each other when Seth Moore withdrew from Remus Lupin's mind: complete trust and deep love. He would need to think on what it meant, and he left the men as silently as he arrived.

Snape was lying in bed after a hot shower. It had been a draining day culminating in double Potions with the fifth year Gryffindors and Slytherins, which was always just too trying, but he consoled himself that it was only two more days before the end of term and then three glorious weeks without brats. Hardly any students were staying at Hogwarts this Christmas holiday, and no Slytherins at all. Dumbledore had given him permission (permission – the nerve!) to be away. He and Lupin would spend it together and Snape was very much looking forward to it. He would spend the weekend with Lupin and Idris's pack and then Lupin would come home with him for Christmas and New Year – their bonding anniversary.

Oddly, Lupin wanted to spend Christmas at Spinner's End. Snape couldn't fathom why when the flat was so much nicer and, more importantly, so well protected. Lupin said he felt a connection with Spinner's End as the place of Snape's childhood – the place where Lupin so wanted Snape to be happy. Snape hadn't decided yet – Lupin had left the decision to him. It certainly did have some wonderful new memories from last summer.

Snape shifted in his sheets. Yes, wonderful memories, of one type or another. He smiled to himself. There weren't many places where Lupin hadn't given him wonderful memories, Snape snorted as he threw one arm over his head. He and Lupin had spoken earlier in the evening, but they didn't use the mirror or the bites to excite each other while Lupin was with the pack. When Snape wasn't with him, Lupin took look-out duty. Snape found he rather missed it, which also made him smile thinking how Lupin had changed Snape's whole outlook on physicality.

He found himself thinking back on that night at Grimmauld Place after Black had attacked him and how Lupin had practically consumed him afterwards. It was one of the strongest and most potent memories he had and he found himself thinking on it often now they didn't use the mirrors. He liked the way that remembering any part of that night with Lupin warmed him emotionally and set him alight sexually. He thought on it again this night.

He merely had to remember the intense look on Lupin's face as he had Apparated them both to his room and Snape's cock grew and hardened against his own stomach. He closed his eyes and lightly ran his own finger around the tip of his cock and down his shaft as he recalled how Lupin had pushed him against the chest of drawers as soon as they were in his bedroom and warded it and had stripped Snape without magic – needing the actual physical stripping motion as he had growled "mine" at Snape, grasping and biting at each revealed part of his body setting Snape's whole body on fire. Snape's cock twitched at the memory and his groin flared again. He wrapped his fingers around his own cock and started to stroke it absent-mindedly, lost in the recollection of how Lupin had kissed Snape almost violently and certainly as he had never kissed him before as he asserted his ownership of him, roughly pushing his fingers into him as soon as Snape's robe was open and Snape finding he was so turned on, he barely needed any preparation at all as he groin burned outwards across his whole body and his mind became thick with the fug of desire mixed with the thrill of the violence of Lupin's emotions. Lupin had ordered Snape to undress him whilst kissing and biting him fiercely, igniting his skin wherever he touched it. Snape gasped at the memory and increased the pace of his stroke as he recalled how he had struggled to undo Lupin's robe belt and the buttons on it as his hands shook with primal and pent-up desire.

"Hurry, Severus," the possessive werewolf had growled as one of his hands had fisted Snape's hair roughly as he kissed him as the other hand had encircled Snape's neck. Snape couldn't recall if he was frightened at the time although he remembered Lupin's thumb had stroked down Snape's jaw and settled on his Adam's apple and as he recalled, he swallowed heavily at the dryness in his throat, and ran his own thumb down his neck at the memory. It had been exciting. His fumbling hands had finally managed to open Lupin's robe and push it off his shoulders, and taken Lupin's shirt off over his head. As his hands had made their way swiftly over Lupin's scarred chest and stomach to his waistband, Lupin had growled and Snape remembered he had thought he would come on that growl alone, his own cock had become so hard and his groin and gut spasmed tightly at the growl.

He was stroking himself even harder now at the memory, recalling how he had got to his knees to take off Lupin's trousers and boots and seen his cock, as hard and large as it had ever been. He had wanted to take it in his mouth, even though he ached for Lupin to fuck him, but Lupin's hands grabbed Snape as soon as he was naked and lifted him, pushing him hard back onto the chest of drawers, one hand pushing one leg high over his arm and ramming his cock into Snape, grunting gutturally, as Snape's head fell backwards and he cried out, partially in pain as the small of his back was pushed uncomfortably into the sharp edges of the wood but also in desire as he was filled as he wanted to be, as Lupin held his hip hard with one hand, the other gripping his leg.

He recalled the brutal pace Lupin set as his own hand now replicated it, his grip tight for as much friction as he could generate, remembering how Lupin growled and grasped and kissed and bit as his cock thrashed into Snape harder and faster than ever in a possessive frenzy but unerringly striking Snape's prostate so colours blossomed behind his eyelids with the shockwaves of sheer pleasure, Snape grunting himself with each deep thrust until he could hold on no longer and cried out loudly and came hard just as he did now as his own hips bucked wantonly into his hand, picturing Lupin looming over him as he followed Snape's orgasm with his own, growling deeply as he came, as his back arched sharply and he felt the fierce spurts of his orgasm hit his hand and stomach, as he gradually eased his pace to drain himself as he heard his own blood coursing in his veins and his heart hammering in his chest and a satisfied smile slowly spread across his face.

He settled back comfortably into his bed, and cast a lazy cleansing charm. Without a doubt, Lupin was his drug of choice. The weekend couldn't come fast enough for him.

He had just started to drift off to sleep in a pleasant haze when the Dark Mark burned.

Snape leapt out of bed, shocked and weak and unsteady on his feet as he clasped his forearm in pain. He rushed to dress and then stopped abruptly. There was no way he could present himself to the Dark Lord in this state. He held his wand to his temple and removed the memory of that night as it was too vivid and near the surface because of his own enjoyment of it. He placed it in a phial in his bedside cabinet, smiling quickly as he did so. Some people kept sex toys in their bedside cabinets he knew. He smirked, he just needed that memory! He stood and took several deep calming breaths as he Occluded his mind and then found his mask, sending his Patronus to Dumbledore as he made his way quickly out of the grounds.

oooOOOooo

Snape knelt before the Dark Lord, concerned that he had broken his agreement not to call Snape in the week during term time. What on earth was it that could not wait two nights? Snape wondered. Every Death Eater had now arrived and the Dark Lord was weaving in and out of them, pacing furiously.

"My Death Eaters!" the Dark Lord announced, spreading his arms wide dramatically. "I have news for you!"

Surely, Snape thought, he could not have obtained the Prophecy. He knew the Dark Lord had tried many different methods of manipulation, one of which had ended with one of the Order members under the Imperius curse and now serving time in Azkaban. He had not (as far as Snape was aware) attended the Ministry himself – for that's what it would take.

"I have forged a connection with Harry Potter's mind!" the Dark Lord sang triumphantly.

The assembled Death Eaters murmured their congratulations, many clearly confused by the tones of their voices as to what the import of this statement could be. Snape made sure his voice was clear and strong as he added his own congratulations, all the while his mind buzzing with all manner of possibilities, but he could not fathom how this could have been accomplished. The boy was mentally weak, that much was true, but he should have been shielded by the ancient wards of Hogwarts which allowed no outside intrusion. As his mind spun, he suddenly grasped the idea with startling clarity – he and Lupin had discussed it before – and how much did Dumbledore know that he would never discuss this with Snape properly? He needed that book more than ever – he would pick it up when he was next at the mutt's house.

That scar. The portal had to be that scar.

"My Lord!" Snape said silkily. "Tell us how you have accomplished this extraordinary achievement."

"It is a thrilling tale, Severus." The Dark Lord swooped around to face Snape, and spoke to him, and him alone. "But the accomplishment of it should not be trumpeted too widely. However, Severus, you will be instrumental to my plans for it," the Dark Lord said quietly and confidentially. Then he turned to the assembled company again.

"Stand, all of you!" Snape knew the Dark Lord must truly be happy: he had hurt no-one as yet, and allowed them to stand without their usual period of obeisance. The Dark Lord then took reports from the all the Death Eaters of their latest recruitment drives.

Macnair was now confident that the Giants were dedicated to the Dark Lord.

A total of fifteen vampires had now pledged to the Dark Lord's cause, including the powerful ancient Italian vampire, Infamia.

"You are to be congratulated, Thorfinn, on persuading such a powerful ally," the Dark Lord inclined his head and then turned to Malfoy. "And what of our bestial colleague, Lucius?"

Malfoy reported that Greyback had acquired another three packs but one in North Wales was proving elusive, and two others in the West Country were reluctant.

"Then they must be convinced!" the Dark Lord hissed malevolently. "Tell the beast to get on with it. And what does 'elusive' mean?" the Dark Lord snapped impatiently. "If this is the pack of Idris, I will not accept any kind of refusal!" The Dark Lord's anger was rising and he leant into to Malfoy menacingly. "Idris must be convinced without permanent harm to him. He is pivotal to my plans for the werewolves. If I acquire him, no feral werewolf will deny my call to arms. Impress upon Greyback, Lucius, that a second failure to recruit Idris and his pack will be punished ... severely." Snape heard the imperative in the command and wondered how much the Dark Lord remembered of the story of Idris. It was clear he remembered the Wandsong but he wondered if he recalled ensnaring that young boy to that curse. The thought of a teenager planning the deliberate Turning of a class mate made his stomach wrench as he thought another fifteen year old who had almost done the same but with an innocent werewolf as his tool: Sirius Black.

"My Lord," Malfoy acknowledged the instruction, with a snap of his head. The Dark Lord then relaxed his rigid posture, still regarding Malfoy.

"How goes it with our dear Minister? Is he still wilfully blind to my return?" The Dark Lord stretched his reptilian visage uncomfortably into a smile that had no resonance in his red eyes.

"Fudge is delightfully obdurate in his denial of the truth, my Lord," Malfoy sneered, now on more solid ground. "His fear of Dumbledore deposing him is so great that even as his petty officials succumb to the odd well-placed Imperius curses, he refuses to see anything other than his own retention of political power and his need to plant disparaging editorial comment about Dumbledore and Potter," Malfoy smirked knowingly. "He is oblivious enough to be the author of his own ultimate downfall." Malfoy chuckled.

"How many have we turned at the Ministry now?" the Dark Lord enquired lightly, looking casually at his wand.

"I have five, Gibbon has three and Yaxley has three also. We are making good inroads, my Lord. Yaxley gets closer by the day to Thicknesse."

"Indeed, indeed. And what say you, Yaxley? How are our friends in the North Sea?"

"At your command, my Lord," Yaxley growled, throwing a glare at Malfoy for not allowing him to speak on his own account.

"Excellent! My plan for them shall shortly come to fruition." The Dark Lord swooped again in a circle, taking in each of his followers. "Severus, stay. The rest of you may leave." He waved a hand dismissively, their presence no longer registering with him. "Unmask, Severus, and walk with me."

As Snape removed his mask, he heard the disgruntled utterances of several of the Death Eaters cursing his favoured status. No doubt, the Dark Lord heard, but he cared not and Snape knew to place no reliance upon it. The Dark Lord alone would reap the benefit of the rivalries for his favour; he neither encouraged nor discouraged them, but he would be the beneficiary of them nonetheless.

"You know, Severus, how I have been thwarted in acquiring the Prophecy." The Dark Lord stopped suddenly, clenching his fist as he raised it as a sign of his frustration. "Every plan and person has failed. I must have that Prophecy!" He inhaled suddenly and deeply, and Snape felt the Dark Lord's magic reverberate with his anger and Snape gritted his teeth and braced himself for the curse to fall on him, but none came.

"Tonight, I decided to strike out on my own," the Dark Lord said, and Snape pulled up short in surprise.

"You went to the Ministry, my Lord?" he asked, momentarily stunned.

"Nagini went to the Ministry," the Dark Lord replied. Snape nodded in understanding, and they continued to walk. "A member of the Order was on guard outside the Department of Mysteries. Nagini wanted to bite him, but I restrained her. It was the blood traitor, Weasley. He awoke to curse us! Well, that meant I had no choice. I allowed Nagini to attack." Snape felt that the Dark Lord would not have had it any other way.

"And as I struck the blood traitor through Nagini," the Dark Lord chest expanded as he breathed deeply again and Snape knew he was savouring the remembrance of the primal power he had felt in the powerful, flexible, articulated body, "I felt another in my mind." The Dark Lord spun round at a speed Snape could hardly credit, his eyes, crimson with fury, boring into Snape's. "My mind, Severus! No other has ever entered my mind!" he bellowed, as if the very idea simply could not be comprehended. "I struck at the blood traitor over and over again, enraged by his obstructing my goal, and enraged by that other looking through my eyes." The Dark Lord was pacing around Snape now, his mind clearly swirling, putting together his memories. "At first, I was not sure who it could be," the Dark Lord said quietly, stopping his pacing as he looked at the floor, then his face turned and he smiled his twisted smile at Snape. "A great wizard of power and strength, surely. It had to be. I reached out with my mind to find him; he who had sat behind my eyes and ..." the Dark Lord spread his hands wide, "as quickly as that, I was sitting behind his.

"The old man's office. I knew then it was Harry Potter. Not his strength, but mine! I saw the old man through the boy's eyes. So old. Weak. Decrepit," he sneered. "I made to lash out in the manner of Nagini and knew I could do it – I could control the boy to do it." He raised his clenched fists in triumph and whipped around again and his next words were spoken quickly, but not rushed.

"The old man will know by now, Severus. He will attempt to assist Harry Potter to block the connection. Without a doubt, he will look to teach the boy Occlumency. What I do not know is whether he will teach the boy himself," the Dark Lord stopped and turned to Snape, "or use you to do it." He turned again and started walking again as Snape's jaw snapped back into place. Teaching the brat Occlumency! Even Albus surely would never consider such a cruelty. "I believe I am coming to know how the old man thinks, Severus. He will keep Harry Potter at bay in case I possess him to spy on him." The Dark Lord chuckled. "Little does he know I have my own - very effective spy!" The Dark Lord laughed his high, unearthly, humourless laugh as he regarded Snape appraisingly, much to Snape's discomfort.

"I believe ... he will choose you for the task." The Dark Lord inclined his head to Snape, his smile almost a leer. "I will be relying upon you, Severus. You will be the one to break open Harry Potter's mind."
- 58
- 59
- 60
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

You Will Not Kiss Me