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You Will Not Kiss Me	By : Prosperosdaughter Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Snape/Remus Views: 22836 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 2
Disclaimer: JK Rowling & her associates own the Harry Potter universe and I make no money from my stories.

Chapter List
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Direct quotes in bold from Chapter 28 of OotP are © J.K. Rowling

Chapter 67: Unwelcome Memories

It was, of course, quite odd that there was now a Centaur on the teaching staff of Hogwarts, although Firenze clearly did not join the school for meals. Howlers had arrived for Dumbledore by the flock. Dumbledore seemed to take note of each and every one and spent time composing erudite and sometimes amusing replies that always contained a mildly-worded but apposite reproof. Snape wondered if Dumbledore had done the same when the Howlers arrived en masse about Lupin. He felt the twinge of his ancient shame, but pushed it away. It was done with; it could never be changed.

He wondered how Lupin was doing on his latest mission. They had located a werewolf pack in the Lake District. It was not on the list held by Wilkes so it had been an unknown quantity. They had been gone for a fortnight and he managed a few conversations with Lupin, but not many. The pack sounded difficult, and Snape was grateful again that David was with him.

oooOOOooo

There had been a schism. The Alpha of the Lake District pack, Zachary, would not pledge to the Order, although he denied he had any allegiance to the Dark Lord. Many in the pack had spoken with Lupin and did not want to be part of a satellite pack for Greyback – they had heard of him, and wanted nothing to do with him – they wanted positive affiliation with the Order. Zachary had been far from pleased at Lupin's interference and Lupin and David and those who wanted to leave had had to duel their way out of the pack. Lupin sent his Patronus to Idris with the names of those who wished to leave and sent them on their way to Snowdonia with the Apparition co-ordinates.

So, once again, before the April full moon, Lupin and David sat around the table at Grimmauld Place, with Snape tending their wounds as Black fed and watered them. A partial victory, although Snape had been angered by Dumbledore's disappointment that the whole pack had not been recruited. At least, Lupin would not now travel until after the full moon. Although Snape would not be able to spend every night with him, it was seven days until the full moon. It was enough to know that he was safe – whether with him at the flat or at Grimmauld Place – not with the packs. Snape felt as content as it was possible for him to feel.

oooOOOooo

"What do you mean: Dumbledore is gone?" Snape croaked, as he sat in Minerva's office thunderstruck.

Minerva explained all that had transpired in Dumbledore's office the previous night, as Fudge had bungled Dumbledore's arrest with the able assistance of Kingsley once Umbridge had found out about Potter's Defence group.

"But you will surely be Headmistress? Dumbledore will have left you instructions about the wards of the castle?" Not questions: demands. So much depended upon it.

But Minerva looked confused. "Well, no, Severus. Dolores Umbridge has procured for herself the appointment by – you'll not be surprised to learn – Educational Decree number 28! And I know nothing more about the wards of the castle than you do."

Snape felt horror rising in his stomach. It would only be a matter of time before the Dark Lord possessed Potter completely. He would have to contact Dumbledore for more instructions on the wards.

Snape had thought the day could not get worse than it had started until a house-elf popped into his class room with a pink parchment requisitioning Snape's entire stock of Veritaserum. His eyebrow rose slowly as he read it.

I think not, he thought to himself as he filled a small but heavy, crystal phial with a neutral base as added a single drop of Veritaserum. None would need to worry about spilling their secrets to Dolores Umbridge.

"Professor Snape."

Snape looked up from his stock book at Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle who stood before him, with their chests puffed out, looking perfectly pompous. He frowned as he saw a tiny silver 'I' underneath Malfoy's prefect's badge.

"And what, pray tell, Mr Malfoy, is this?" he asked silkily, and heard, with disguised dismay, about Umbridge's Inquisitorial Squad.

"Well done, each of you. Five points each." That should please their fathers, Snape thought as he dismissed them, wondering just how malicious Umbridge actually was, or whether she really was just clueless.

Chickens were roosting for Umbridge by lunchtime when an explosion rent the air. Snape rushed to the Entrance Hall to see children running this way and that and pandemonium reigned. Somebody had set off an enormous crate of enchanted fireworks. Of course, Snape knew it was the Weasley twins; who else would it be? He slipped into the shadows as he saw Filch and Umbridge watching in horror and Disillusioned himself to watch the show.

Dragons comprised entirely of green and gold sparks were soaring up and down the corridors, emitting loud fiery blasts and bangs as they went; shocking-pink Catherine wheels five feet in diameter were whizzing lethally through the air like so many flying saucers; rockets with long tails of brilliant silver stars were ricocheting off the walls; sparklers were writing swear words in midair of their own accord; firecrackers were exploding like mines everywhere one looked, and instead of burning themselves out, fading from sight or fiddling to a halt, these pyrotechnical miracles seemed to be gaining in energy and momentum the longer he watched.

Snape smirked. Those boys were the bane of his professorial life but, by Merlin, they were talented. He was willing to wager a term's stipend that these fireworks had been enchanted against being extinguished. He, Severus Snape, wasn't one for what tended to be described as 'fun' but he considered that he really would enjoy this.

He left to return to the dungeons for his afternoon lessons and was shortly playing host to one of the dragons. "That will never do," he said silkily to his class as the firework darted around his classroom and, with a lazy flick of his wand, changed the gold sparks to silver. "Better. Miss Spalding," he said to the nearest Ravenclaw, "kindly find our headmistress and advise her that I have an errant firework that needs her expertise." Then he stopped dead and said, "On second thoughts ... not to worry, Miss Spalding." He cast an enchantment and sent the Slytherin-coloured dragon to the Transfiguration classroom. After all, he reasoned, I have highly combustible materials here and it is her students' prank. Snape smirked.

By curfew, however, things had taken a very different turn. Graham Montague had been reported as missing. He had not turned up to any of his classes following mid-morning break, and had not been seen at lunch or dinner. Snape had spent hours searching the castle and Hagrid had searched the grounds. They had found nothing and reported the matter to Umbridge in the early hours of the morning. She had berated Snape for some time as Montague's father was a senior Ministry official. Snape swore as he got to bed at half past three in the morning that Mr. Montague would rue the day he decided on a jaunt without permission when Snape got his hands on him. No-one – no-one – should be subjected to the sight of Dolores Umbridge with curlers in her hair, in her (Snape shuddered at the recollection) pink frilly nightdress and cat slippers.

oooOOOooo

He hadn't had a lot of sleep but, at least, from tomorrow, there were only two days until Easter break: he could make up his sleep then. Snape was despatching the flasks of Wolfsbane by owl each day in the meantime. He supposed it gave time for Lupin to be with Black. He tried to tell himself he didn't mind, although he did. He had no business minding it, he knew that. It was only a couple of days after all and he couldn't deny that Lupin's intermittent rebuilding of his friendship with Black made for a more contented husband. He could not deny it, any more than he could deny Lupin himself.

He would meet with Lupin on Friday for the full moon, and forget all his aggravations and annoyances. It couldn't come soon enough. He sighed heavily. Until then, unpleasant duties were still needed as he heard the expected knock at his office door.

'You're late, Potter,' said Snape coldly, as Potter closed the door behind himself, noting there was no apology.

Snape removed his usual painful memories and placed them carefully in Dumbledore's Pensieve. He dropped the last silvery strand into the stone basin and turned to face Harry.

'So,' he said. 'Have you been practising?' He knew the answer as soon as the boy had come into the room. He was radiating anger, although Merlin knew what had irritated this boy's temper this time.

'Yes,' Potter lied. He was so very tiresome. Another wasted evening and another headache.

'Well, we'll soon find out, won't we?' said Snape smoothly. 'Wand out, Potter.'

Potter moved to his usual position, facing Snape with the desk between them.

'On the count of three then,' said Snape lazily, desperately bored with the thin diet of Dementors, horse-faced Petunia and her corpulent husband and son. 'One – two –'

Snape's office door banged open and Draco Malfoy sped in.

'Professor Snape, sir – oh – sorry – '

Malfoy was looking at Snape and Harry in some surprise.

'It's all right, Draco,' said Snape, lowering his wand. 'Potter is here for a little remedial Potions.' Of course, if the Malfoy boy had the brains he was born with, he'd question why both Potter and I have wands in our hands without so much as a cauldron between us. He pursed his lips at the stupidity.

'I didn't know,' Malfoy said, leering at Potter.

'Well, Draco, what is it?' asked Snape impatiently.

'It's Professor Umbridge, sir – she needs your help,' said Malfoy. 'They've found Montague, sir, he's turned up jammed inside a toilet on the fourth floor.'

Snape's attention snapped into focus as Malfoy ran ahead. Snape knew, he just knew, there'd be a certain pair of red-heads at the bottom of this as he gritted his teeth and strode behind Malfoy's skipping run.

oooOOOooo

No doubt, Minerva would write it off as a prank. Merlin help him with Gryffindors and their so-called pranks. Fireworks were one thing; flinging a student headlong into a Vanishing Cabinet was quite another. He could have ended up in Malfoy Manor in the lap of the Dark Lord if that's where the Cabinet's twin had been! Montague was a gibbering wreck and in the hospital wing and probably wouldn't be right for weeks. He strode back to his office, students scattering before him, his foul temper evident on his face as he swept back into his office.

He halted, dumb-struck, at the scarely believable vision before him: James Potter's son's face deep in the Pensieve with the memory of the Black Lake in it. He pushed his immediate and violent fury down as deep into his gut as he could manage. He had to. Or he – would – kill - him. He stepped silently next to Potter and clenched his jaw so tightly, his teeth hurt as he watched what Potter had pried into, although he knew it as if it were acid-etched into his heart.

'Reading between the lines, I'd say she thinks you're a bit conceited, mate,' said Black.

"Right,' said Potter, who looked furious now, 'right –'

There was another flash of light, and Snape was once again hanging upside-down in the air.

'Who wants to see me take off Snivelly's pants?'

Snape's felt his rage burn. One more second and that bastard's whelp would see how his father humiliated him totally, divesting him of his underpants in front of those students. Renewed humiliation set his skin crawling and his hand closed tight over the boy's upper arm, with a pincer-like grip. Wincing, Potter looked round to see who had hold of him, and saw Snape standing right beside him, white with rage.

'Having fun?' Snape snarled as he yanked the foul boy backwards, never releasing his grip on his upper arm.

'So,' said Snape, gripping the boy's arm as tightly as he could, fighting the almost undeniable urge to strike him. 'So ... been enjoying yourself, Potter?' he seethed.

'N-no,' said Potter, trying to free his arm.

Snape knew he was shaking with anger and that his face had drained.

'Amusing man, your father, wasn't he?' barked Snape, shaking the boy so hard his glasses slipped down his nose and he hoped he rattled the brat's bones.

'I – didn't – ' Excuses. The boy wanted to babble excuses at him. No! It was too much.

Snape threw Potter from him with all his might and he fell hard on the dungeon floor.

'You will not tell anybody what you saw!' Snape bellowed clenching his fists in his robe so the boy would not see.

'No,' said Potter, scrabbling to get to his feet as far from Snape as he could. 'No, of course I w-'

'Get out, get out, I don't want to see you in this office ever again!' Snape roared, angry with the boy and, watching the boy's fright, furious with himself, neither of which he could contain as he grabbed the first thing that came to hand and threw a jar of dead cockroaches at Potter. He had stumbled and it exploded over his head. Potter wrenched the door open and flew away.

Another two jars swiftly followed as Snape let loose his impotent fury, bracing himself against the desk, he swore loudly as he placed the memories carefully back in his head, feeling the sting afresh as they settled, then he kicked his own chair away, hastily Banished the broken jars, warded his office and stormed into his own quarters where a bottle of Firewhiskey seemed like a very inviting proposition.

Still feeling his skin crawling, he grabbed a glass and filled it generously and tipped it back. Glass after glass followed, his thoughts becoming more maudlin and disjointed, timelines mixing and melding and becoming hopelessly confused with each huge measure.

When – just when – could he forget about it? Just make it disappear? Why did it haunt him? Why did he constantly have to see his shame? His shame of turning on his friend? He pushed her, and pushed her, and then finally that day, he pushed too far. It didn't matter that he was tormented. She always stuck up for him. Unreasonably so. But he had to fit in. She didn't understand how he had to or it would be worse. If he didn't have his dark curses, if he were not so talented at creating them, if the Dark Lord hadn't expressed an interest in him to Malfoy, there'd be no hope for him at all. When he looked at all the terrible things he'd done, if he could take that one thing back and beg her to be his friend again, he would. If those bastards hadn't shamed him so ... if only ... if only ...

Drunk now, he heard Lupin calling his name from the mirror in the bedroom.

"Severus? Severus?"

Give him a piece of m' mind, he thought drunkenly. Then, he heard some other voice faintly as he lurched to his feet to go to his bedroom.

"Remus? If Snape isn't there, come back down and have a beer with Kingsley and me. Tonks and David are coming for a farewell drink. Maybe Bill and his French bird too. We could get up a game of Whomping Poker? Come on, Moons!"

"Sod off, Padfoot!" he heard Lupin calling back, good-naturedly. "I'm trying to tell ..."

Snape swayed and drunkenly cast a Silencing Charm on the mirror and went back to his glass. No Marauders. No more of that tonight.

He'd drunk himself stupid until he'd passed out on the bed and hadn't called Lupin back.

In the morning, hungover and contrite, he cast a charm on the mirror and saw that Lupin had tried to speak to him another four times. Of course, he hadn't heard: he'd placed a Silencing Charm on the mirror. But Lupin would have been able to see him sprawled face down on the bed, fully clothed, wouldn't he? Merlin, what must he think of me?

Whatever Lupin thought now, imagine how much worse it would be when Snape told him what he done to Potter: shaken him, thrown him to the floor, thrown a glass jar at him. Snape scrubbed his face with his hands, knowing Lupin would be so ashamed of him. He felt the shame as if Lupin stood before him now. Once he told Lupin, surely he wouldn't want Snape to be a father after all – not the type of father that Snape men tended to be, anyway. He sat on the edge of the bed, and sheepishly called Lupin through the mirror, but Lupin did not answer.

He supposed he should be grateful. It would wait until the evening.

In the evening he tried again, but still there was no answer. Snape's stomach sank with disappointment as he sent off the flasks of Wolfsbane. It wasn't as if he hadn't sulked like that himself before. Lupin was just giving him a taste of his own medicine. Well, it served him right, didn't it? He'd be seeing him tomorrow for the full moon. It would all be all right then.

oooOOOooo

Snape had only had a quick breakfast and was now packing a few things for the Easter break. He would be staying at the flat with Lupin for just over a week before more Lupin resumed his mission with the packs. He believed that there was a small pack in Whitby that was Lupin's next target. He donned his cloak and quickly left his quarters to go the laboratory to collect the men's final doses of Wolfsbane, when a Patronus loped soundlessly towards him.

He thought at first it was Lupin's, but no, it was larger – a large hound: Black.

"Snape, get your arse here now. David's back without Remus!"

Back? What did he mean 'back'? Back from where?

Easter holiday packing forgotten, Snape ran from the castle to the Apparition point and Disapparated straight to the front door of number twelve, Grimmauld Place.

He stormed down the long hallway, flicking his wand to close the curtain savagely on Mrs. Black's operatic dissertation on the foulness of the occupants as he passed into the kitchen, where he saw David huddled at the table, battered and shaking with fright, looking at those who surrounded him as they asked, pleaded and shouted at once, all pressing in on him.

"You must have seen who it was?"

"Describe them! Were they werewolves, boy?"

"He's just a boy! How could he have known?"

"And what was Remus in the last war? Who mollycoddled him like this?"

"Leave him alone! How can he possibly know?"

"ENOUGH!" Snape roared. The press of bodies parted and most stared sullenly at Snape. Only Black looked relieved to see him. Oh, the irony.

"Snape! We can't really get coherent information from him. They've got Remus," Black said plaintively.

"Where have they been and for how long?" Snape snapped. And why didn't I know? The sickening realisation crept into his brain: the number of times Lupin had tried to contact him the night before last but he was too drunk and stubborn to talk to him. His heart sank that Snape had thought Lupin was sulking because he hadn't answered. When, just bloody when, he chastised himself, had Lupin ever been so juvenile with him? Never, and now his own childishness had contributed to the danger Lupin was now in. He kept breathing deeply. He had to keep his wits about him.

David started talking quickly, his eyes darting to each person in the room – except Snape. "We got a message from Zachary, saying he wanted to talk to us again. We went Thursday morning, hoping we could get his assurances. He invited us in this time, had a meal ready for us. Zachary and Remus talked for ages. I started feeling Remus didn't trust him. Kept asking why he'd changed his mind. Zachary wouldn't really answer – just kept saying he'd had time to think about it - and asked a lot of questions about the pack that the others had joined, you know, the one in Wales. That's when Remus really seemed to close down. Then the remainder of the pack jumped us, knocked Remus out and tied us up."

The young man was breathing hard now at his recollection. Molly Summoned him a glass and filled it.

"There, dear," Molly said, patting his arm. David offered her a tremulous smile and then drank greedily.

"Thank you, Mrs. Weasley. Once we were tied up, Zachary summoned an owl from the woodland and sent a message. Remus was out cold for practically the whole night, and didn't come around until the sun was rising. He told me not to struggle and wait for his signal. I didn't know, but Remus had a spare wand."

"And you didn't?" Snape asked, disbelievingly, trying to ignore the rock of fear that weighed heavily in his gut.

"No, sir," David's head snapped to face the tone of authority. "I'm sorry, sir, I've never had a spare wand."

"Well, you won't make that mistake again, will yer, laddie?" chided Moody.

"No, sir," David said, gulping all the time, now looking terrified.

"This is not achieving anything," Kingsley broke in, his voice deep and commanding. "Carry on, David. What happened then?"

David looked at Kingsley with gratitude. "Every time our guard had his back turned Remus was chanting to charm the wand he had up his sleeve into his hand. He got it eventually and broke the binding charm, and Summoned our wands and we made a break for it. We were chased down by some men I hadn't seen before."

"Why didn't you Disapparate, love?" Tonks asked gently.

"Wards around the settlement, I assume." Snape said.

David nodded. "Old and very strong. We had to run to get to the edge of them to Disapparate. One of the strangers jumped Remus before he could Disapparate."

Just as more talking at cross purposes started, Snape broke through.

"So, neither of you is properly medicated and it's a full moon tonight," Snape said forcefully. The room went silent again, and David's eyes went wide as everyone looked at him. Snape turned to Tonks. "Do you have somewhere safe for David to transform?" Tonks nodded.

Snape took off his cloak and stared at David. "I suggest I get the information from his mind. It will be quickest."

The silence became heavy as some of the Order members looked concerned at one another.

"I don't know if I approve of that, Snape," Moody growled.

"The man doesn't know who he saw. If it was Death Eaters, I will know them, will I not?" Snape said, his body rigid and his teeth gritted. "Time is wasting," he spat. He wouldn't be able to restrain himself much longer.

"What? What is that he wants to do?" David asked, looking wildly at everyone, but Snape.

"D'ye know what Legilimency is, laddie?" Moody asked.

The young man looked even more frightened. "Isn't it Dark magic to break a mind?"

Snape just started to scowl at the boy's ignorance when Black held up a hand to him, not offensively but gently. "It's Mind Magic, yes, but it's not Dark." He approached David carefully as if approaching a skittish creature. "It can be used for Dark purposes but also for Light. Professor Dumbledore is a skilled Legilimens and Mind Healers at St. Mungo's use it. Snape – that is, Severus – can also use it. He can look at the memory if you let him. Identify who took Remus so we can track them." Black swallowed audibly. "Please let him try, David."

Tonks gave Black a reproachful look but then knelt at David's side. "Go on, love. Mad-eye and Kingsley are here. It will be safe."

"Tonks!" Kingsley said sharply, with an apologetic look at Snape.

"She's not wrong. If he doesn't give it to me willingly – I will tear it from him without hesitation," Snape whispered dangerously, his hands gripping the back of David's chair until his knuckles whitened. Time was slipping away while they pandered to this boy. Snape inhaled deeply to calm himself, seeing the shocked and uncomprehending faces around the table. "I ... We need this information so I can assist retrieving our asset." He moved away from the chair back to face David and loomed over him as he raised his wand. "Do not resist me, or it will hurt." A threat, a warning or a promise? It was for the boy to decide. "Look at me."

David tore his eyes from Tonks's now soft, liquid brown ones, raising them to meet Snape's. David's eyes were filled with nothing less than abject terror, but he did not resist.

Legilimens.

Snape entered as gently as he could, feeling the young, energetic mind in panic but forcing itself to yield. Suddenly, David pushed him into the memory: rolling landscape, nearby woodland, fresh earth, panic, fear, anger, sweat -

"MOVE IT! GO!" Lupin bellowed at David's shocked face as curses and hexes started flying at them.

Lupin and David were running at full tilt, stumbling over the rocky and uneven terrain as they ran, sending hexes and spells back to their many pursuers, desperately trying to get away from the wards of the settlement. A jet of red light shot directly at David, who received a hard shove to his breast bone from Lupin, pushing him out of the wards. David stumbled heavily and, as he turned to Disapparate, thinking Lupin was with him, he saw Lupin being brought down in a lunge and his assailant turning him over then back-handing him hard across the face, sending blood spraying from Lupin's mouth.

With a sickening lurch in his stomach and his skin prickling, Snape recognised immediately the savage, leering werewolf that bent over Lupin to beat him.

Greyback.
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You Will Not Kiss Me