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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
- 76
- 77
- 78
Chapter 77: Blood Moon

It had felt like months rather than weeks since Snape had last seen Lupin. They had arranged to meet at the flat but Lupin had still not arrived two hours after Snape had expected him. There was no reason to be worried, or even concerned: Lupin was with Dumbledore, but since the promise and Vow extracted from him, Snape needed Lupin as much as any drug. He needed the reassurance of his love as if it were a validation of his very existence.

He paced their small living room impatiently. Of course, this yielded no results; he didn't even know why he was doing it. He must have picked it up from Dumbledore. He took the small mirror from robes, and toyed with it over and over, fighting the urge to call to speak to him, feeling he would sound as if he were hounding him. He could bear it no longer and spoke his name into the mirror.

Lupin's face appeared. Ah, he looked so tired, and still there was a sadness in his eyes, but it still lifted Snape's heart to see him.

"I'm sorry I'm late, Severus," Lupin said softly. "I'll be along soon."

Snape thought Lupin sounded so defeated. It was only then he realised that he had seen the shining black tiles of the Ministry of Magic. He was still there. Why? Lupin had accompanied Dumbledore to file Black's Will with the Probate Registry in the Ministry, but it was past filing hours now.

The Death Chamber. He felt as sure as anything that Lupin had gone there. He shook his head against his own thoughts. Perhaps, Snape just couldn't think straight. He'd had very little sleep over the past couple of weeks but there was a flutter of panic in his gut. He could wait no longer.

He left the flat and Disapparated to Ministry of Magic's workers' entrance and strode to the Department of Mysteries, eerily silent in its emptiness at this time of day. Snape knew in his heart where he would find Lupin and he sped on to the Death Chamber, his heart in his mouth.

There it was: the arch – the Veil. And Lupin sitting by it on the floor, one leg outstretched, the other bent, on which his arm draped and his head resting back against the arch, his eyes closed. Snape's mouth dried out. Why, oh why, was he here? He approached him softly and, as he reached out a hand to his shoulder, Lupin turned his face to him. Snape could see there had been tears. Not many, but Lupin's eyelashes were wet and his beautiful eyes, glassy.

"Hello, Severus," he said softly and held out a hand for Snape to help him up. "Whatever is the matter?" Lupin said as he stood and looked at Snape's face.

"Were you going to leave me?" Snape said quietly, indicating the Veil, knowing even as he said it that the notion was illogical. Lupin's face softened with understanding.

"Never, Severus." Lupin's voice was a whisper. "Nothing could make me leave you. I just," he sighed heavily, " ... I just needed to say good-bye."

oooOOOooo

They got back to the flat and, as they sat on the settee, Lupin wearily updated him on the successful transition of the Somerset pack and then on his afternoon with Dumbledore and his various suggestions.

"What suggestions?" Snape said suspiciously, as Tippy served them tea.

"I've covered the large packs now, at least those I had the vaguest hope of securing. We've done well, but not really well enough. There are so many left that Voldemort could end up commanding. Albus and I have been discussing who we should approach next ..." Lupin rubbed the back of his neck.

"We? He means you, surely," sneered Snape.

"Yes, yes, he does," Lupin said. But he looked so drawn. "We had a discussion about withdrawing me from Wolfsbane ..."

"NO!" Snape shouted, starting from the settee. "No, you need that! It has analgesic properties, antipyretic qualities as well as ..."

"Calm down, Severus," Lupin said calmly, pulling him back to sit. "I've told him it's out of the question. Apart from anything else, I can never endanger you. Look – ah – look what I did to you the last time I was without Wolfsbane." Lupin closed his eyes against the memory.

"In fairness, you had been tortured ..." Snape started, holding Lupin's hands.

"Nevertheless. It must not happen again," Lupin said firmly. "I've told Albus I would be prepared to go to the other packs even though I think it will be pointless. I've also suggested that I try to trace the lone wolves or the small town groups, not really packs. I think that may be more productive. Maybe."

"You don't think so at all, do you?"

Lupin looked at Snape. His look told Snape he had guessed correctly, but he also knew Lupin couldn't bear to refuse Dumbledore, the man who had allowed Lupin his beloved education when no other would have done. As much as Snape blessed Dumbledore for it, he hated him for taking advantage of Lupin's loyalty.

Lupin continued, "I think ... in all honesty ... we should consolidate what we have. Those left over?" Lupin shrugged sadly. "They're twisted by maltreatment in the Wizarding world. They're Greyback's – through and through." Lupin held on to Snape's arms as they held him.

"You don't want to go, do you?" Snape said softly.

"No, Severus, I don't. But I mustn't be such a coward. At least, I will have you waiting for me." They held each other silently for a while, and Snape kissed the crown of Lupin's head.

"Except when I have to do rat duty," Snape said, as lightly as he could, hoping to lift some of Lupin's melancholy, and some of the weight of his own, if the truth were told.

"Yes, rat duty. But, it might work out well enough, Severus. Albus also wants me to spend as much time as possible at the Burrow this summer to keep an eye on Harry, now Voldemort's out in the open."

"He doesn't want much, does he?" Snape said, sourly.

"He's encouraging all the Order members to meet there informally as often as possible."

"Not all ..." Snape said curtly.

In honesty, Snape couldn't say that he minded. He didn't. He couldn't imagine the hell that a small houseful of Weasleys would be like. Anyway, he didn't want yet another place where he had to hide his feelings all the time. His whole life now seemed to revolve around denying everything he held dear to either the Dark Lord or the other members of the Order. The only time he could be himself was here in this flat with this man. The only people who knew of their bonding: Albus, Moody, Bill Weasley and their house-elf. He found it hurt his heart the longer it went on and the more restricted they had to be.

"No, no, I suppose not all," Lupin agreed, wrapping one arm around Snape. "He's been trying to encourage Tonks there too. She's become very withdrawn. Barely morphs at all anymore. Hardly surprising, I suppose. It must be very difficult to cope with, especially as she'd hidden her mating from so many."

"Question has to be, surely, why she hid it in the first place, don't you think?" Snape said, acidly.

"I'm sure she suffers terribly for it every day, Severus," Lupin said mildly. Snape felt a small flush in his cheeks at the reproof. "Think of how much she has probably had to put up with: her mother a notorious Black, but denounced as a blood traitor; her father, a Muggle-born and she's a Metamorphagus. And you know how our society treats shape-shifters. I don't doubt for one minute that she loved David very dearly, but just perhaps, that public acknowledgement on top of everything else was just one step too far. Believe me, Severus. There's only so much opprobrium a person can cope with." Lupin shifted and pulled Snape closer to himself. "I dare say she thought she had all the time in the world. Plenty of time to take, perhaps to get her parents used to David, to the idea of no grandchildren ..."

"Why no grandchildren?" Snape interrupted, moving slightly away to look at Lupin. "There's the Electio potion, after all. It worked for Jasper and Amelie."

"But they no longer know ..." Lupin broke off, and squeezed his eyes shut, "... Tonks," he corrected, "no longer knows of the potion or that you, my mate, made that potion."

"How do you suppose David felt about ... about her reticence to acknowledge him?" Snape ventured after a while.

"I expect he tried to be understanding. Shall we say that people ... like me ... well, we all understand what it's like to be rejected somewhere along the line. It won't have been something that hadn't happened to him before. I'm sure just to have had a witch like Tonks as his mate would have made him very proud and happy. Just to have a mate for us is more than we ever hope for," Lupin said sadly and stroked Snape's hair back. Snape closed his eyes, concentrating on the feel of Lupin's hands in his hair.

"And now, Severus," Lupin said. "Tell me why you are so troubled."

"I have not said so," Snape said evasively.

"And I don't know you better than that by now?" Lupin smiled. "Does your master ask too much of you again?"

Snape stared ahead. This, he could answer quite honestly. "Yes, Remus. My master asks too much of me. It becomes difficult to bear."

"My poor Severus," Lupin said softly, and rubbed his head against Snape's hair. "Are you able to share the burden with me?"

Such a simple question, and yet the flood of emotion Snape felt threatened to overwhelm him. If Remus could know - if he could just know - perhaps Snape could sleep. How long would Dumbledore make him wait to tell him? Yes, his master really did ask too much of him.

"I cannot," he said, his voice barely audible. "But I hope to be able to. Soon."

Lupin increased his hold on Snape and nuzzled into the back of his neck and began to kiss it, softly at first, then urgently, squeezing Snape's upper arms. That was all it took for the mood to shift as the waxing of the moon and their absence from each other for weeks fuelled both men's passions instantly and Snape gasped "Yes," to the insistent kisses that ignited his desire painfully.

Lupin quickly removed his own clothes, as Snape watched him hungrily. Then Lupin sat back down and pushed Snape forward slightly and undid the buttons on his robe and drew it slowly down Snape's bare shoulders until it pooled at his elbows.

"Merlin, Severus," Lupin whispered as he feathered the back of Snape's neck with kisses and stroked the palms of his hands over Snape's shoulders and caressed the bonding circlet on his upper arm, as Snape let his head fall back. "I love the summer holidays!"

Snape just managed to smile: Lupin was so very visual in his passions. But all Snape cared about now was what Lupin was making his body feel as he covered Snape's back in kisses and bites, making him arch, as his hands clutched Snape's chest and stomach. He was immersed in desire so thick so quickly, he could scarcely believe it. Every touch of Lupin's seemed to scorch him. He arched back further, his arms reaching behind him for Lupin, groaning loudly as Lupin's hands peeled off his robe entirely and then roved lower on Snape's body, grasping him, stroking him, one hand clasping his inner thigh so tightly as the other massaged his balls.

Snape's groan was almost strangled by his own desire as Lupin lifted him so both were on their knees on the floor. Lupin pressed himself against Snape's back, his hand now grasping Snape's too-hard erection as he began to stroke it quite hard and bite at Snape's neck. Snape groaned louder still. It was passionate. It was ardent. It was rough. It was exactly what he wanted right at this moment as his head rolled back onto Lupin's shoulder behind him, and Lupin's other hand grasped him around the waist.

Lupin's hand left Snape's cock to prepare him, and Snape stretched backwards onto Lupin's fingers. He could hear Lupin breathing his name, telling him he was his, his very own. Snape's desire was overwhelming him, pulling at him, drawing on his groin and gut. He wanted this. He needed this. He didn't want to wait – they'd waited too long.

"Remus. Please," he gasped as he grasped Lupin's hair. His breath hitched as he felt Lupin move his hand away and guide himself to Snape, pushing himself in as Snape cried out, his breath catching once more as he felt Lupin sheath himself fully, sharp and hot. Snape braced himself against the settee. "Remus, please!" he repeated, his whole body in need.

Lupin's breath was hot in his ear. "My love," he said hoarsely. "My Severus." He held Snape tightly and, just as well, for Snape was lost to all, lost in the searing heat that pulsed through him with every long, deep thrust into him and every delicious grunt breathed into his ear that matched his own deep noises, gradually increasing as Lupin thrust faster, and Snape began to plead silently as his sweet spot was struck and his colours blossomed behind his eyelids. Snape cried out and pushed back hard for more.

Lupin took him harder, his hand keeping pace just as hard. Snape could barely breathe, as the burning cresting sensation burst through his body and he cried out Lupin's name, coming hard over his hand, followed quickly by Lupin's own hoarse cry of his name as he pumped his own orgasm out and leant across Snape's back, holding his chest. They stayed like this as their breathing steadied and then Lupin gently released his hold on Snape and pulled away, taking them both to lie on the floor, their breathing ragged, but kissing passionately as their ecstasy gradually ebbed away.

Lupin and Snape lay next to each other, their breathing now calm, and their hands loosely entwined. Lupin moved so that he could rest his head on Snape's chest. Snape closed his eyes, feeling more relaxed than he had for weeks as he wrapped Lupin in his arms.

"When we're free, Severus, we shall spend our Sundays in bed, with The Sunday Prophet and a slap-up breakfast. We shall ward the Floo against all callers and just," Lupin sighed heavily, "just be like this together. It will be wonderful."

"How long shall I have the luxury of you to myself before you insist on our idyll being shattered by Lupin junior, may I ask?" Snape said softly, curling a lock of Lupin's hair around his finger, noticing with a sharp pang more grey hair than before.

"Lupin junior. Hmm. I'm not sure I care for that." Lupin tilted his face up to look at Snape. "Have you thought of any names?"

"Zygote? Parasite? Spawn?" drawled Snape.

"Severus," Lupin laughed softly. "You just say those things to annoy me. It won't work. If you don't take me seriously, I shall name Snape minor myself. Let me see ..." Lupin ruminated dramatically.

"Before you deluge me in nonsense, must it be Latin?" Snape deplored.

"Why not? There are fine Latin names for our son," Lupin said, a small contented smile on his face. "We both have Roman names."

"But it's such pureblood nonsense," Snape complained.

"Augustus – exalted. Benedict – blessed. So many wonderful names ..." suggested Lupin, quite engaged in the subject.

"I know, I know. I could even think of a few beautiful ones myself, but ..."

"Such as ... tell me, Severus." Lupin lifted his head from Snape's chest and turned to face him. His face was so animated now. It always was when they talked of their hypothetical child. Snape considered for a while whether to tell Lupin of the name that had come to him so often.

"Lerato."

"I've never heard of it."

"Song of my soul," said Snape, suddenly feeling - exposed.

"But that's beautiful," Lupin whispered. Snape snorted in embarrassment; Lupin laughed.

"It is, yes," Snape relented on seeing Lupin smiling and laughing. It was such a joy that he didn't have the heart to be gruff.

"But it's not my favourite. My favourite name is a simple one, it recognises family and describes my son and his father ..." Snape said quietly.

"What name, Severus?" Lupin whispered, his eyes now fixed with Snape's.

"John."

"My father's name! But it's so plain," Lupin said, his eyes searching Snape's.

"It means 'beloved'," said Snape, as he rubbed his hand softly down Lupin's cheek.

Lupin kissed Snape's mouth gently and he lay back down next to Snape and enveloped himself up in Snape's arms once more. "It's perfect."

oooOOOooo

Yet again, Lupin had gone to the Burrow so Snape took the opportunity to spend time at Spinner's End. It appalled him that his time was wasted in this way. It was as well that all the Death Eaters knew Dumbledore called private meetings with Snape as well as Order meetings. It gave Snape plenty of opportunity to leave Pettigrew, but he knew he had to be careful. As much as he wanted to spend all his time with Lupin, his absences had to be believable.

As well as his usual summer brewing for the hospital wing, Snape made a great show when he was there of working on the Muggle-murdering poison. Pettigrew was competent enough at potions, but he had nothing like the expertise required to identify the myriad tiny flaws Snape had set for himself to prevent himself perfecting the potion.

Snape set Pettigrew to working on infirmary potions to keep him out of his hair. Oddly, the rat worked assiduously and the salves and potions he produced were all acceptable. Snape could only assume Pettigrew wanted to keep in Snape's good graces so the Dark Lord's attention would not be drawn to him. Snape understood, but had no pity for him. When the time was right, he would happily see the Dark Lord torture him, although he would never confess it to Lupin, who tried to find Lightness in the Darkest of places.

/

"Don't you understand, Severus?" Lupin said, carding his fingers through Snape's hair as they lay together that morning.

"No," Snape said simply. "I don't."

"Peter was our friend. For all those years: we four, together."

"As if I didn't remember that," Snape interrupted sourly. Lupin squeezed him affectionately.

"Even after we left school, we all saw each other, all the time. James and Lily got married, but we would still all go over to each others' digs for dinner, meet up at weekends, work in the Order. I mean, all the time ... I don't understand how it happened that Peter betrayed James and Lily. Why he felt the need. We must have done something that drove him to Voldemort. Turned him against us somehow ..."

Snape raised himself up onto one elbow and stared at Lupin incredulously.

"Are you actually trying to blame yourself for his treachery?" he asked. "Is it not possible the little shit is purely just that? He turned because he wanted to be on the winning side at any cost?"

"I find it hard to believe, Severus, that's all. Just so hard," Lupin said sadly.

"Sometimes, Remus," Snape sighed. "Sometimes, you just have to believe it."

oooOOOooo

Snape sat in Dumbledore's office. Dumbledore paced as he told Snape of Lupin's report to him of his trip to Diagon Alley with the Weasleys and Potter.

"The taking of Ollivander worries me, Severus. I do not think he has been murdered. I have an idea he may be seeking an answer to one question in particular. See what you can find out." Snape pondered what Ollivander might know that the Dark Lord sought. Potter and the Dark Lord's wands' connection perhaps? But he knew if Dumbledore had not offered the information, he would not give it if Snape asked.

"If he has one wandmaker – he may try for another. Gregorovitch, perhaps. There are others but not as fine." As Dumbledore turned away, he turned back quickly, as if another thought had struck him. He raised his forefinger. "If he's doing what I think, there is one wandmaker he absolutely must not get his hands on, Severus. It would be well to visit Idris to see how things are faring. We'll speak to Remus about it after the full moon."

oooOOOooo

Snape was being called more and more often. Now the Dark Lord was revealed, his plans were speeding on apace. Dementors were free to attack anyone without the Dark Mark and the weather reflected the atmosphere they infected and it chilled the soul. If Snape had not known this was July, he would have denied it was possible.

In the five days preceding the full moon that he had wanted to be with Lupin, he had so far only managed two days, the others returning to Spinner's End or to the Dark Lord, with Lupin visiting the Burrow or seeking out lone wolves in London.

But each night, they returned to be together, their love-making becoming ever more urgent as the full moon approached; ever more desperate as their missions seemed to hollow them out. Their minds and bodies craved each other, the closeness and the brightness of touch.

Finally, today was the full moon. Snape had grown to worship what the full moon promised him: it was his day to care for Lupin, to be taken in the manner of the wolf that he found so cathartic and yearned for. After that, it would be his time to guard and protect and to love the man he loved more than his own life. It was their most passionate time; a time he knew they shared in common with no-one.

But, as the sun rose on that bleak day, misty and cold, the Dark Mark had burned, bright and sharp. With earnest promises to Lupin to return before moonset, Snape had answered.

The Dark Lord summoned them all and regaled them in exquisite detail how he had tracked down Karkaroff, tortured him physically with Cutting and Whipping Curses, with fire and water, then followed with the Cruciatus and Legilimency until Karkaroff had begged for death. The Dark Lord had not given it to him. Not for a very long time at least.

He told his Death Eaters, to great acclaim, that he had toyed with the idea of bringing Karkaroff's shell back for them to see how he wrought his displeasure on the fallen acolyte. But he did not wish to sully his robe.

The Dark Lord was pleased. He had closed the gap in his inner circle. For good.

All day, he had taken reports of death and torture, including Florean Fortescue (Snape heard with some distress), and issued orders, made demands and tortured those who did not comply. Offerings of blood traitors and Muggle-borns were brought before him, and Snape realised with horror that the Dark Lord intended this Death Eaters to remain whilst he took his pleasure in torturing these prisoners.

Time was ticking on and Snape was powerless to do anything other than worry. He could only console himself that it was summer so moonrise would be late. He had to find a way of procuring his release. Snape had not intended his anxiety to show, but he noticed Pettigrew watching him, as he cowered nearby, trying to make his small frame smaller still, so clearly wishing to be anywhere but where he was. Perhaps, Snape thought. He settled on a plan, and shuffled himself nervously in the sight of Yaxley.

"What is the matter with you?" Yaxley hissed.

"I have the Dark Lord's poison at a critical stage. It must be tended at the full moon. I must find a way to tell him," Snape said, his calm exterior covering his real and ever-growing horror, as he felt the first familiar small pull in his gut.

"You must tell him! He wants that poison!" Yaxley spat. Snape had no intention of provoking the Dark Lord, but he knew someone else had no such good sense ...

"My Lord, my Lord!" Pettigrew bowed and scraped towards the Dark Lord, who spun around towards the interruption, his face twisted in fury and hatred.

"What is it, Wormtail?" the Dark Lord hissed, his red eyes alight with malice.

"The poison – needs to be overseen - full moon …" Pettigrew grovelled, his silver hand held protectively, but so pointlessly, over his face.

Weak little wretch, Snape thought with some satisfaction, balling his now slightly trembling fists in his robe.

"My Lord," Snape intervened sharply, bowing low. "I beg your indulgence. I realise the importance of this meeting. It is correct that I need to tend my latest experiments but I do not need to leave, unless you permit it. I can easily start again …"

"NO! No, Severus." (Pat.) "I do not wish your experiments to spoil. They are vital to our mission. And Wormtail?"

"He's is not required, my Lord," Snape said smoothly. "I need no shredding of shrivelfigs this night, and certainly not the scratching of rats to distract me."

Had it been any other person seeking escape from the Dark Lord's 'festivities', Snape might have assisted, but not Wormtail. He may have unwittingly assisted Snape's exit, but it was only for his own relief after all.

"Get back in place, Wormtail!" the Dark Lord hissed, twisting his wand sharply, making Pettigrew yelp with pain and cower as he took his place with a hateful look at Snape.

"Go now, Severus."

Snape nodded and he strode steadily with his head held high, although his stomach was starting to turn over. Only once he knew he was out of sight did he rush to get away from the wards of the run-down manor hall. As he did so, he felt his skin turn clammy and, suddenly, his stomach crampt mercilessly and he fell onto his hands and knees in the dirt in agony.

Too late! Remus! Snape's mind flooded with anguish that Lupin would be transforming with the same pain that Snape now had on top of all the rest of his pain. He tried to stand to Apparate but he began to vomit violently instead as his skin broke into heavy sweating.

Drawing harsh and costly breaths, he managed to call, "Tippy."

The small elf Apparated to his side as soon as her name left his lips, took his hand wordlessly and Apparated him to the flat, straight to Remus's side.

The tawny wolf lay on its side, long soulful whines escaping his throat, his coat matted with blood and broken bones protruding as convulsions wracked his body. Snape reached out his shaking hands, and as they contacted the wolf's body, their convulsions began to ease, degree by degree, until the whines became pitiful whimpers.

Snape got to his knees shakily, his tremors ceasing slowly. He tried to take in the damage to Lupin, his hands hovering over the bloodied lupine form. He made calming noises to Lupin as he squashed his own fears down. Lupin was in his wolf form. He was dumbfounded by the damage. He didn't know the right way to heal it. As he cleaned away the blood with his wand, he recalled ...

"Tippy," he said to the house-elf, who he was startled to see was still standing right next to him, worrying at her tunic. "Go to my quarters at Hogwarts. There is a book on my table. Grey's Complete Lycanthrope. Bring it to me."

Snape looked into Lupin's beseeching golden eyes, trying to ignore the pitiful whimpers but he could not – each whimper seem to drill painfully into his consciousness, hurting him physically.

"I am here now, beloved. Soon, I will be able to help you soon," Snape said softly, gently stroking the crown of the wolf's head.

Within seconds, Tippy had returned with the compendious volume almost as big as she was, and set it out at his side, opening it at its contents page. Snape quickly scanned the contents page and found the section on anatomy. His agile mind quickly took in all the plates showing the skeleton and musculature and network of blood vessels, tracing over the plates with one long finger as he matched up bones from the plates with those that protruded from Lupin's coat. Then he set to work stemming the bleeding first from all the wounds he found through wand diagnosis.

Tippy dropped to her knobbly knees beside him and held the book open, resting it on her lap so Snape didn't have to bend too far, and Snape carefully fused the broken bones, and any torn muscles around them, listening all the time for any change in Lupin's whimpering. With each injury that was healed, he looked into Lupin's eyes for reassurance, but Lupin could no more give it in his this form than in his human form, for how was he to know if Snape had healed all the damage correctly? He worked tirelessly until every tear, rip and break had been healed. The wolf had ceased to whimper and Snape cradled Lupin's snout in his hand, locking his eyes with the wolf's.

"Do you have pain anywhere at all?"

No Severus. But I ache, and I'm so very tired.

Snape stroked the wolf's coat and moved himself so Lupin could rest his head and forepaws on Snape's lap.

Ever anticipating them, Tippy brought the settee forward so that Snape could rest his back against it and, as he stroked the crest and back of the wolf, Tippy cleaned the blood from the carpet and then brought water for the wolf and a chamomile tea for Snape.

As Snape felt his muscles start to un-tense in his stomach, shoulders and legs, even in his wand hand, he traced small circles on the top of the wolf's head, both of them too worn out to speak. He watched the house-elf work cleaning quietly around them, even picking up Snape's discarded Death Eater mask as if it were no more than a teacup or a napkin and cleaning it, seeming not to want to leave them.

"Did you know?" Snape asked her. "Did you know Master Lupin is a werewolf?"

"Oh yes, Professor Snape sir. House-elves know what other beings are. Tippy has always known," Tippy replied. Snape was astounded. He did not know why, but he had always assumed that Tippy had not known. It was foolish of him to have assumed anything.

"Do house-elves fear werewolves?" he asked.

"No, Professor Snape. The werewolf in Master Lupin does not hunt the house-elf. The werewolf hunts the human only."

Snape stared at the little elf for a long time as he considered how accepting these exceptionally magical beings were of each other. It seemed to him that it was only the human that completely refused to accept otherness in any other being. He gave Tippy a small smile.

"Will you help me move Master Lupin please?" asked Snape, and Tippy eagerly nodded, delighted to assist, and she Levitated the sleeping wolf smoothly to the bedroom as Snape stretched out his legs for his crampt muscles and aching bones and then Summoned a blanket for Lupin to rest upon.

"Professor Snape should let Tippy clean his ceremonial robe," Tippy said, quite matter-of-factly, holding out her hands for it. It jarred with Snape that Tippy clearly understood more about where he went than he had ever realised. He wondered just how much and found himself feeling raw once more. Once he had passed over his Death Eater robes, Tippy left and Snape crawled onto the bed, checking once more that there was no other injury to Lupin's wolf form.

Tippy only came back into their bedroom once more that night to give Snape a Calming Draught. He hadn't thought of it until the little elf presented him with the phial and he saw how violently his hands were still shaking.

Of course they were. He drew his shaking hands over his face, rasping his stubble. The night's events had terrified him. The Dark Lord could call on Snape at any time. It shouldn't be an issue. Except for the full moon. Lupin had Claimed him. The Claim commanded them to be together at the full moon. How could this damage to Lupin be avoided if the Dark Lord caught him again? He wracked his brains, but he didn't know and it shaken him very badly.

Snape thanked Tippy and drank only so much of the Draught as needed for a couple of hours' rest. He curled himself around the sleeping wolf, and let the Draught take away his senses for a short time.

Tomorrow, they would think on it. It would look better tomorrow.

Note: John - in some notes, it means "beloved" for St. John the Beloved, although technically, the name itself means "God is gracious". I have sacrificed accuracy for poetry.
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You Will Not Kiss Me