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You Will Not Kiss Me	By : Prosperosdaughter Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Snape/Remus Views: 22836 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 2
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Chapter List
- 77
- 78
- 79
Chapter 78: Cruel Summer

As soon as Lupin's transformation had finished, Snape checked him for injuries and then administered a sleeping draught to ensure Lupin slept. Exhausted himself, but unable to calm his mind, Snape paced the drawing room.

Despite the pristine condition of the room after Tippy's exemplary cleaning, in Snape's mind's eye he saw the wolf lying in a puddle of blood, the protuberance of bones from the wolf's coat, and heard the pitiful whimpers. The memories made him flinch.

What had happened last night must not happen again. He had sworn to protect Lupin. He must not be the cause of injury and pain to him. In future, even if the Dark Lord called Snape at the full moon, he would not go. He could try to rely on that blasted potion, but he had a better excuse and one with which Pettigrew couldn't interfere: Order meetings. Yes, that was what he would use. And if the Dark Lord chose to punish him for non-attendance? Snape inhaled deeply.

Snape didn't care. Better him than Lupin. He had sworn.

oooOOOooo

Snape sat before Dumbledore and repeated his incantations to keep the trapped curse at bay as Dumbledore took a further draught of Spiritus Vitae. He would need to do this now, every twenty-eight days to imbue Dumbledore with enough strength to carry on. They both knew Snape could not stop the progress of the curse, but he used all his skill to try to keep it locked. As he worked, Dumbledore stayed silent, much to Snape's relief.

When Snape had arrived, Dumbledore had asked how both he and Lupin were and if Lupin was yet well enough to set out on his latest mission. Had it been anyone else, Snape would not have confided the horror of the last full moon, but Dumbledore had seen its effects before and maybe, with all his experience, Snape thought that – just perhaps - he might know of a solution. Dumbledore listened in silence as Snape described the events.

"This is terrible," Dumbledore said, drawing up the sleeve of his robe in preparation for Snape's casting. "The danger to both of you is beyond anything I had realised. I will give it some thought, Severus. There must be something that can be done to assure the safety of you both.

"It's very simple, Albus. If there is nothing else to be done, I will ensure that I am with him. The odds must be in my favour. After all, it is only once every twenty-nine days, give or take."

"I think you underestimate your master's growing fervour. He calls you more often than he ever has, and once I am gone …"

Snape drew his breath sharply through his teeth and turned away. He did not want to talk about this terrible thing Dumbledore had asked of him.

"After I'm gone," Dumbledore repeated, his tone commanding, "your place with Voldemort will be assured. None will ever query your loyalty again, Severus. But it also means he will expect his most trusted advisor at his side more often." Dumbledore stroked his beard in contemplation. "Contingency plans must be made so you do not need to fear the full moon and how ill it can make you …"

"That is not what I fear, Albus! You misunderstand completely. I could pass my own illness off as anything – dragon pox, potion fever …" Snape waved his hand dismissively. "But I cannot allow Remus to be hurt," he said softly as his shoulders slumped.

"I understand. Plans must be made for Remus's safety," Dumbledore said softly and held his hand forward for Snape to cast.

Now, the casting was done, Dumbledore had ordered tea for them both and Snape reported fully on all that had happened at the meeting until he had had to leave. When he finished, Dumbledore sipped his tea, regarding Snape over his glasses. Snape found himself uncomfortable under his gaze – unusually so. After a time, Dumbledore spoke.

"I have news for you," Dumbledore said, his eyes intent on Snape's reaction. "I have managed to find Horace."

Snape's eyes narrowed. He had badgered Dumbledore for years to find Slughorn to take over the Potions position so he could take the Defence post, but Dumbledore had always refused, stating he had the Potions master he required and the Defence post was too dangerous. Lately, the Dark Lord had tried to find Slughorn to co-opt him into the Muggle-murdering poison. His Death Eaters had been unsuccessful, and Slughorn had eluded them. But now Dumbledore knew his own time was limited, he had found him quickly enough. Snape wasn't sure what he made of that.

"Managed?" sneered Snape. "I do believe this is the first time you have looked."

"That may well be so, Severus," Dumbledore said, with a small smile. "However, the fact remains that I have found him." Dumbledore settled back in his chair.

"And?" Snape scowled at Dumbledore's procrastination. "Will he return?"

Dumbledore looked at Snape for a long time, and Snape thought he discerned a certain sadness in the look he was given. He didn't need Dumbledore's pity for what he was putting Snape through. He felt the familiar burn of anger.

"Yes, Severus. Horace returns as the school's Potion master," said Dumbledore heavily. He took another sip of tea. "So ... you will have the Defence post at last. Does it make you happy?"

"Happy that I have the position for no longer than this year because by the end of it, you will be dead and I will either be in Azkaban or headmaster of this school?" Snape spat as he stood suddenly and kicked back chair, its legs scraping on the floor as he turned away from Dumbledore, holding his forehead, as sadness and fear warred in him to surface.

"I am sorry, Severus. That was ill-considered of me," Dumbledore said soothingly. "There is, of course, a reason that I, for one, am satisfied that you will be in that post. Now more than ever the students of this school need proper instruction in Defence against the Dark Arts. None of my staff has the experience that you have to impart to them. You are the teacher for that job this year. It is imperative the children learn to defend themselves properly. Please do not think I do not know how hard this year will be for you. I know you have to contend with more than most could ever understand, and I trust no-one as I trust you."

"It could be made easier for me, Albus," Snape said earnestly, turning swiftly to face him. "Let me take Remus into this confidence."

"Severus, please." Dumbledore held up his hand to silence Snape, making him ball his fists into his robes in frustration. "If any indication of this plan of ours reaches Voldemort, the whole plan will be ruined ..."

"You don't trust Remus ..." Snape interjected.

"Of course, I trust Remus. The work he does with the packs is of the utmost importance. We are very lucky to have him. But he is not the Occlumens you are to hide this if he were to be caught again."

"I have been training Remus since we bonded. He is a fine Occlumens now! He resisted Voldemort before; he could again," Snape countered.

"Do you not think his work is enough for him without this as well? Don't you think it will add to his burdens?" Dumbledore reasoned, eyeing Snape shrewdly.

Snape's breath was snatched away. Of course, he would never wittingly add to Lupin's burdens. He blinked in confusion. Was he being unreasonable to want to share this? Would he be endangering Lupin? His stomach turned over as he cast around himself, as if searching for the right answer, but one thing he did know for certain.

"Albus," Snape pleaded, his hands grasping the back of his chair, desperate in his worry. "If I kill you, how do you think Remus will take that if he doesn't know of the plan? Do you think that will make him a better spy in the packs if such a thing is withheld from him?"

"Be patient, Severus, and trust me," Dumbledore held out his hands pacifically. "I am beginning to formulate a plan. Remus will be looked after. Do not worry."

oooOOOooo

Of course he worried. Snape had begun to worry almost constantly. Lupin was away in Edinburgh tracking down several lone wolves to try to convince them to make their way to Idris. Lupin had thought that, in many ways, these would be the hardest – these men and women who had no-one to call family or pack – who begged, borrowed, stole or even killed just to survive. These men and women lived on the Muggle streets, and hated the Wizarding world that had turned on them, hated particularly people like Lupin who tried to live as wizards.

Worrying still, he perched on his high stool at his work bench in the cellar at Spinner's End. The traitor, Pettigrew leant over the second bench with ingredients for which Snape had given him cursory preparation instructions. They worked in resentful silence, as always.

The Dark Lord had ordered Snape to make batches of Wolfsbane for Greyback and several of his most favoured pack members. The Dark Lord had missions for them and wanted them at the full moon for missions which required their human minds. He had not yet found out what the Dark Lord intended them to do, but he knew there were some members of the Wizengamot who the Dark Lord had targeted for 'correction'. The best Snape could do at present was to brew the potion diligently and, on presentation of it, obtain the rest of the information.

Of course, he used Damokles's instructions, rather than his own refinements. The original instructions had none of the pain-killers, anti-inflammatory properties or fever-reducers that Snape had added. In fact, if he added the merest differential in aconite, he could cripple a werewolf.

He had questioned Pettigrew subtly to discern his knowledge of this potion. It was scant. Snape was not surprised. Pettigrew had been a rat for so many years, he would have missed the huge advance this potion represented.

Snape reproduced the recipe with the microscopic alteration to the amount of aconite to sicken the werewolf, and a reduction in the steeping time for the herb so it retained enough toxicity to weaken the wolf form. It was delicately and deftly done, if he said so himself. He oversaw Pettigrew's brewing, admitting that the small man was performing well. Needless to say, Snape himself brewed Lupin's Wolfsbane away from Pettigrew at Hogwarts.

As Snape added a well-judged slither of the skin of the claw of a wyvern to the final stage of a large cauldron of his post-Cruciatus potion, he realised Pettigrew was muttering.

"Are you talking to yourself, Pettigrew?" he snapped.

Pettigrew shuffled uncomfortably and stole a quick look at Snape.

"Just saying it's an amazing invention. For them. You know. Werewolves."

Snape grunted, very much wishing his brewing facilities were not being used for Greyback and his ilk. It was easy to maintain Death Eater prejudices when speaking of the murderous animal responsible for Lupin's contagion. "They don't deserve this mercy. They're just beasts, after all."

Pettigrew mumbled something under his breath.

"What did you say?" spat Snape, cross that Pettigrew was disturbing his concentration.

"I said not all wizards deserve mercy either!"

Snape's eyebrows shot up at Pettigrew's flash of backbone.

"Indeed?" Snape challenged. "Is this insurrection in the ranks, Pettigrew? Does our calling shame your principles, you who led his school friend and wife to their deaths? Killed twelve Muggles and framed Sirius Black for your crimes. That kind of wizard doesn't deserve mercy, perhaps?" said Snape, silkily.

"I hated them. They deserved it!" Pettigrew spat through, his expression hateful, his hand clenched around the paring knife in his hand.

The vehemence with which Pettigrew said it startled Snape. He regarded Pettigrew coolly who seemed to shrink under his gaze and then turned his attention back to his ingredients.

"You followed them around adoringly."

"They took advantage of me. All the time."

"All of them? Potter and Lupin too?"

Pettigrew didn't answer but Snape saw the fire in Pettigrew's eyes. What was this? Snape found himself now very intrigued indeed.

"Oh?" Snape said lightly. "I know all about Black. You must be glad he's dead as well then," Snape said conversationally, as he adjusted several pipettes on his brewing line and quickly looked at Pettigrew to see if he would talk. Pettigrew's chopping of flobberworms became faster as his eyes flashed.

"I wish I'd done it myself!" the small man declared. "He ruined everything for me. Everything!"

Snape carried on making minute adjustments as he listened to the small man breathe heavily in remembered offence. Snape said nothing. Sometimes, saying nothing was the best bait to injudicious confessions that he knew.

"I loved him!" declared Pettigrew suddenly.

Snape dropped one of his pipettes as he stared at Pettigrew, his eyebrows high in astonishment.

"Who? Black?" he asked, astounded. Pettigrew snorted like a pig. Oh, why had Snape never seen it? The adoration. The fawning. It was all there. It had never crossed his mind.

"No, not Sirius," laughed Pettigrew, his laugh a rattle, rusty from disuse. "Remus."

Snape stared at Pettigrew, his own jealous creature ready to strike the small man down for even thinking it of his mate, his rational brain struggling with what he now heard.

"Lupin?" queried Snape softly, and quickly added to cover his own confusion: "The werewolf?"

Suddenly, the small man looked miserable. "It never made a difference to me that Remus was a werewolf. But he never looked at me that way."

"You admired him from afar?" sneered Snape.

"You can sneer all you like, Snape. I know you hated Remus, but you didn't know him," the small man snapped, and then cringed again. "It was easy to admire Sirius and James. Nobody thought twice about me following them around, but it was Remus I wanted to be near. He was always so kind to me. Saw me as worthwhile when no-one else did."

Saw me as worthwhile when no-one else did. Snape looked away from Pettigrew, his heart suddenly touched by such an admirable description of Lupin.

"Did you ever tell Lupin of your great amour?" asked Snape, snidely.

"No. No, of course not," Pettigrew said, ignoring the barb, once more intent on his work as he diced the porcupine liver. "At school, he had a boyfriend in Ravenclaw. Joshua Hopkirk. Tall and dark." Pettigrew snorted again. "I would never have stood a chance. I supposed if I said nothing, and just hung around, perhaps, one day, I might stand a chance. It was hard though. To be me ... with them."

"Black and Potter?" encouraged Snape.

"Yes. It was the price I paid. There were two other boys in our dorm. Quiet boys. I probably would have been better off with them, but I wanted ... well. You know now. I was never really a Marauder. Not really. I was just a hanger-on. Every idea I ever had was ignored. Every suggestion, derided. But every group needs a butt of their jokes. Every prankster needs a dummy to experiment on. Well, that was me."

"Didn't Lupin stop them?"

"Oh, always," Pettigrew said, and Snape detected a dreamy quality to that answer. He struggled to suppress the urge to hex the man. Pettigrew continued, oblivious to Snape's disgust. "But he wasn't there all the time. And if it wasn't them, it would have been someone else. There would always be someone else. With them, even if they weren't kind to me, they stopped others being unkind to me."

"You were their metaphorical punch bag, no-one else's?" Snape supplied, fascinated that he felt a worm of sympathy in spite of his revulsion and irrational jealousy.

Now Pettigrew turned to him, his watery blue eyes wide. He nodded and then turned back, but he didn't continue working. He clasped his hands in front of himself and stared at them sadly.

"Then it seemed we walked straight from school into the war. James married Lily and they set up home. The three of us would be there practically every night. James and Sirius started training as Aurors, Lily began her Healer's training and I went to work in the Ministry. Remus," Pettigrew sighed, "Remus could find nothing permanent. He took up tutoring on a part-time basis just to make ends meet. I was so sad for him. He was so capable and bright. But there was no way he could lie about his condition. The war worsened. The Dark Lord's followers were infiltrating the Ministry. Dumbledore formed the Order. We all joined. Did what we could.

"Then I was approached by Augustus Rookwood, casually at first." Pettigrew put his head in his hands. "I didn't know, you see, that he was one of the Dark Lord's followers, but he knew I was in the Order. He befriended me. I was surprised at the time that someone like him – senior – you know - respected in the Ministry - would be interested in me. We went out together. I was flattered, completely taken in. I thought he was so understanding making sure I never missed an evening with my friends. Always interested in everything about them."

Pettigrew laughed a sour laugh. "Oh yes, he was very keen that I keep my friends." He signed again. Snape remembered Rookwood reporting to the Dark Lord his news from his 'inside source'. Snape had had no idea it was Pettigrew. Snape listened intently and began to realise that Pettigrew was unburdening himself for the first time in all these years. He remained silent as he watched Pettigrew steel himself further.

"Once I had," Pettigrew's voice became quieter now, "committed, if you like, to Augustus, he started talking to me about the Dark Lord, how he stood for magic, for wizards. That he was misrepresented by Dumbledore and the like because they didn't understand him. Augustus took it slowly. I meet others who thought the same, Wilkes, Yaxley. Of course, I knew some from school. Only after months did Augustus say I should meet the Dark Lord. I was too afraid, but he didn't push me. I didn't know what he was then. I thought he really ... cared for me."

Pettigrew picked up his paring knife and scraped his prepared ingredients into his cauldron and then checked the miniature cauldron next to it, bubbling away noisily.

"I never stopped loving Remus though, but I knew I never stood a chance with him. I really only stayed friends with the others after school so I could be near him," Pettigrew continued, "but I saw him less and less. Dumbledore was sending him on missions. I missed him. Then, one evening, I went round to James and Lily's and Sirius arrived after me. As soon as he saw me, he started on me that he's seen me out with Rookwood and didn't I know that he was just a middle-aged faggot who liked to pick up ugly queer boys like me? Everyone knew about him in the Ministry. Didn't I have any self-respect? He laughed as if it was just the best joke, and James did too."

"And Lily?" asked Snape, horrified.

"What?" Pettigrew turned suddenly, reminded that Snape was there. He recovered his composure and then he continued. "No. She was upstairs putting Harry down. Then ... then Sirius said that at least I must have realised I'd set my sights too high ogling Remus and perhaps now I'd stop that because I made him sick. That's what he said. I made him sick to his stomach.

"I was hurt. I was embarrassed. I denied it. Sirius challenged me. Why then was I always looking at him? That's when I did it. I was so desperate for them not to start on me I said that I was watching Remus because he was different now. I wasn't sure of him. I didn't trust him." Pettigrew sniffed as he reduced the heat on the miniature cauldron.

"I stormed out with the best impersonation of offence I could. I got home. I threw up. For every time Remus had stuck up for me, look how I had repaid him just to stop them laughing at me. I didn't go around for a while. I carried on seeing Augustus. He was very keen that I made up with them. I didn't understand why at the time. I thought he was being kind." Pettigrew snorted in derision once more.

"Then, a couple of weeks later, Sirius came to see me at work. Asked me to forgive him. I had been right. Remus wasn't to be trusted. Remus wouldn't tell them what he was doing. Claimed it was secret. They didn't believe him. Please would I come back."

Suddenly, the small man looked even smaller.

"After all this time, they wanted me as a friend. Wanted me, instead of Remus. All I wanted was Remus, not them. I said I'd think about it. I told Augustus and he encouraged me to go. He said I must forgive them or it would be a lifelong regret. So, I did. They welcomed me but I didn't feel right anymore. Remus was hardly ever there. Sirius had ruined everything. In time, Augustus asked me again to meet the Dark Lord. This time, I agreed. He told me with him I would be respected. I would be a wizard amongst wizards. No blood traitors would demean me. I would have a position of power ..."

"You believed him?" asked Snape.

"Didn't you?" Pettigrew retorted simply. "By now, the Dark Lord had heard part of the Prophecy. He wanted the Potters. He promised me anything. Anything at all if I could give them to him. Who would have thought that it would be that lie I told that would mean Sirius would choose me to be their Secret Keeper?" Pettigrew's mouth was twisted now in an ugly sneer of hatred.

"Yes, I believed what the Dark Lord promised me. I was seduced by it. I wanted it. I was promised whatever spoils I wanted. I knew exactly what spoils I wanted ..."

Snape was watching Pettigrew openly now, horrified by what he was hearing. Appalled by the shining of tears in the eyes of the small man as he made the reduction of squid ink. Pettigrew didn't look in Snape's direction. It was almost as if Snape himself was not there and Pettigrew was grateful to have the chance to talk. No, he probably rarely had the chance to talk.

Lupin had told him Black had said Pettigrew had just wanted the protection of the biggest bully in the playground. He wondered if Black had ever realised the fault was his very own – he was the bully Pettigrew ran from when he joined the Dark Lord.

He stared at Pettigrew at while longer and then resolved to ask.

"And those spoils were?" asked Snape, his tone deadly, feeling the heat of anger rising up the sides of his face as his guts roiled.

Pettigrew looked up, and cocked his head as if the answer was obvious. "Why, Remus, of course."

"You foul, loathsome excuse for a wizard, Pettigrew!" Snape barked as he sent a sharp hex to Pettigrew's face, making him squeal. Snape whirled around and stalked from the cellar in fury.

He took two stairs at a time and then strode to his room, breathing so hard it hurt as he slammed the door shut and leant against it. Of course, Pettigrew would think Snape was disgusted by his professed love for a werewolf; there was no way Pettigrew could ever guess that same werewolf was bonded to Snape. But that wasn't what had disturbed Snape so. Oh no. It was knowledge that he shared his foolish motivations with a wretch like Pettigrew. It was the vision that, had Lily not died for the boy, the Dark Lord victorious would have presented Lily to Snape, and Remus to Pettigrew. The wrongness of Snape's teenaged morality hit him full force once again as he slid down the door, his face hidden in his hands, his anguish for Lily renewed.

oooOOOooo

There was an old Muggle adage that Snape had not remembered as he should have done in his dealing with Pettigrew: keep your friends close; keep your enemies closer. The Fates seemed to conspire against him. He should not have abused Pettigrew and now – now he would have to pay the price. It was a heavy price. Pettigrew was not a potioneer of Snape's calibre, but he was a potioneer, and Snape should not have overlooked it.

Snape sat, despairing, in their flat, waiting for Lupin to return from his latest assignment. He was so looking forward to seeing Lupin after a week away, but dreading his reaction to the news to which Snape could find no solution. He snapped out of his reverie as soon as he heard the front door uncatch and strode over to greet him.

Conversation was not on Lupin's mind as he came through the front door, however, as he grasped Snape to himself in a fierce embrace, taking his fill of Snape to bring himself back to the world of wizards and Snape, for his part, revelled in the passion that made him forget what he had to tell, at least for this brief time.

oooOOOooo

Snape toyed with Lupin's hair as his head rested on Snape's chest, his arms wrapped tightly around Snape's body as he told of his encounters with the lone wolves in Edinburgh.

Of the twenty three year-old witch, who worked as a prostitute to try "to keep the wolf from the door", as she'd called it bitterly since she had lost her job at the Ministry after she was bitten two years ago and her family had disowned her. One by one, her friends had turned their backs on her. Friendless and without a sickle to her name, she'd tried brewing illegal potions, but had been caught by MLE and had her wand snapped.

And so it went on. A group of werewolves, not properly pack, but banded together to rob Muggle passers-by at night to pay for their food. Of the two teenaged youths he'd met who ran drugs for Muggles, always trying to keep one step ahead of magical and Muggle law enforcement.

So many other stories of neglect and abuse. Not one of them was interested in what Lupin had to say and most became abusive. If the Dark Lord offered them more, they would take it. They'd be fools not to, right?

Lupin rubbed the back of his neck in exasperation. It was clearly so soul-destroying for Lupin. Snape couldn't bear to tell him this latest development. He wasn't even sure how to start, so he started by telling him of his conversation with Pettigrew that had led to it instead.

"I had no idea, Severus. None at all. Perhaps, if I had known ..."

"If you had known? What? Would you have given him a pity fuck?"

"Severus! Of course not. But, perhaps I could have talked to him about Rookwood. I don't know, made him realise that he would always be my friend, if nothing else. I don't know. I would not have derided him, made him feel inadequate. Oh Sirius! If he had known what his stupidity did ..." Lupin dragged his palms over his face in exasperation. "I tried to tell him, but he never understood how hurtful he could be ... how intimidating ... what the consequences could be ..."

"Well, now I've done no better. My outburst was a terrible mistake, Remus. Foolish and ill-conceived of me!" Snape spat. "I forget just how treacherous Pettigrew is. He has done something that will make me pay and, although he doesn't know it, you too." He screwed his eyes shut and took a deep breath as his stomach started to roil and he felt Lupin sit up to look at him fully.

"What is it, Severus?" Lupin said, in his soft voice that he knew always calmed Snape. Snape opened his eyes to look at Lupin. He saw Lupin raise his hand to touch the bite, and then drop it again.

"Why did you stop?" Snape asked, bewildered by the reticence.

"You said it was like the Imperius curse. I've tried to stop myself since ..."

That night Black had watched! Snape had quite forgotten. It felt like a lifetime ago. "That was then. I was angry. Please never think of those things I said then." Snape said, saddened that Lupin had never forgotten the insults Snape had hurled at him in his humiliation, although yet it showed him how much Lupin listened and took what Snape said, even in anger, to heart. Under other circumstances, he might be pleased. He scooped up Lupin's hand and placed it on his own neck. If ever he needed supernatural calming, it was for this conversation. Lupin's thumb circled the bite and Snape felt the queasiness in him stomach quell and his shoulders relaxed.

"Tell me, Severus. Tell me what is troubling you."

"This past month, I don't know why, the Dark Lord's temper, which was already so volatile has worsened. He has complained to me that his concentration feels – ah – fragmented. He asked me to research a potion for him. Needless to say, I have been tardy in doing so, although one sprung to mind immediately. I said I would research it." Snape sighed, realising how foolish this procrastination had been. Better to have confronted the problem and thought of a way around it before the Dark Lord himself knew.

"Pettigrew eavesdropped and found out. Usually he wouldn't dare speak to the Dark Lord about potions without speaking to me first, but I saw the light in his eyes that he could gain recognition from the Dark Lord for his own ideas and cause me pain into the bargain. He rushed to him, in that foul, oleaginous way of his and suggested ..."

"What, Severus?" Lupin pressed.

"The Acutor Potion. It's a wit-sharpening potion. Very powerful Dark magic. It enables the drinker to maintain clarity of thought if there is a physical defect or mechanical difficulty."

"Does Voldemort have a mechanical difficulty?"

"Albus believes he does. He won't explain to me what it is. I have assumed it is due to his magically constructed body, but that is only an assumption on my part."

"So tell me about this potion, Severus. Why is it Dark? How does it affect us?"

Snape raised his eyes briefly skyward as he steeled himself to tell Lupin the worst.

"It is a blood ritual. The brewer's blood is used and it must be brewed fresh. There are incantations chanted by both the brewer and the imbiber together, and it must be drunk on completion." His eyes did not drop from Lupin's, although he felt himself diminish inside.

"It is only powerful if it is brewed and drunk at the zenith of the full moon," Snape confessed.

"Oh." It was more an exhalation than a word. Snape saw a film of moisture shine in Lupin's eyes, and felt his own sting at Lupin's realisation of the full impact on both of them.

"Can't Peter brew it, you know, whilst you tend the murder poison?" asked Lupin, his voice cracking.

"No. It's beyond him. It's an Apothecary standard potion, way beyond NEWT level that Pettigrew took.

"How much blood does it require of you, Severus? Will it hurt you?"

Snape head hung suddenly that Lupin thought of Snape's well-being, and not his own. "I think, beloved," he said quietly, "blood-letting will be the least of our problems ..."

oooOOOooo

Lupin had returned from his debriefing meeting with Dumbledore, and with another assignment of urban werewolves in Newcastle. They had settled down together at the table as Tippy served them lunch. As they finished, Lupin put his hand over Snape's.

"I have spoken to Albus about our problem. He has suggested something to help us."

Snape took in the look of concern in Lupin's eyes and knew whatever this was, it would not be straightforward. He began to feel uneasy.

"You won't like it. Merlin, Severus! I don't like it, but I simply cannot think of anything else to do."

Snape's eyes narrowed mistrustfully. What could Dumbledore possibly know that they did not?

"Go on," he said, slowly, feeling his muscles in his shoulders tense. Lupin swallowed hard but never dropped his eyes from Snape's.

"I think I've mentioned before that werewolves of a certain status can take another mate ..."

"NO!" Snape shouted, jumping to his feet, as the ground seemed to undulate beneath them.

"Please, Severus. Please listen to me," Lupin said gently, reaching out for Snape who drew back from him.

"No," Snape whispered as he moved back until his back met the wall and he could retreat no further.

"Please. Listen." Lupin's hands held Snape's upper arms. Snape let his head fall onto Lupin's shoulder. He couldn't escape listening, no matter how much he wanted to. Lupin rested his head against Snape's.

"It would just be a marking." Lupin lifted Snape's face with a crooked finger under his chin. "I promise you, there would be no need to actually mate. As long as my companion during the full moon is marked by me, neither you nor I will be taken ill like the last moon. You can make that damned potion for Voldemort without being taken ill," Lupin said earnestly.

"Just a marking," Snape repeated, searching Lupin's face, knowing he would find no deceit there.

"Just a marking," Lupin confirmed.

Snape shut his eyes again. He tried to concentrate on Lupin's assurances but his mind began to overrun with images of Lupin with some faceless man, smoothing his neck, scenting it, kissing it, cherishing the skin and then biting into the flesh so that faceless man called out in ecstasy.

Snape's eyes sprang open. "No!" he hissed. "It won't be just a marking. It can't be. That's not its nature. You may not mean to mate, but it will happen. Your nature will overwhelm you. It will happen," Snape said soulfully.

"No! I am not an animal! Why would I do that, Severus? I wouldn't do that to you," Lupin protested. A feeling of ice-cold dread took hold of Snape. He could not see a way out of this. He felt his heart begin to hammer too fast and too hard as he sank his head back into Lupin's shoulder and clutched desperately at his back.

"Look, I'll tell Albus, no," Lupin said quickly, returning the embrace. Snape pulled away and looked at Lupin's earnest face.

"And I'll just tell the Dark Lord no, shall I?" Snape drawled, with a theatrical wave of his hand.

"You're being ridiculous. Voldemort will kill you if you don't make this potion!" Lupin countered fiercely.

"And how will you make it through the full moon if I do?" Snape shouted.

"More to the point, how will you?" Lupin retorted forcefully. Snape opened his mouth to retort. He realised he had none. They were trapped.

"Don't you see, Severus?" Lupin said softly. "Even if you don't come to me at the full moon, you will be ill and won't be able brew the potion and he will kill you. We have to do this to keep you safe."

It wasn't supposed to be about keeping himself safe. That was never what it was supposed to be about. It was about keeping his husband safe, he who Shape loved more than his own life. He had sworn, but it hurt! His mind rebelled and his body began to tremble as he tried to suppress his fear and anger.

"I don't want it! I can't bear it!" Snape cried, grabbing Lupin's shoulders too hard. "You know me, Remus. I am a jealous man." Lupin flinched with pain and Snape realised his hold was too tight and he quickly released Lupin and dropped into a chair. He hung his head in his hands.

"It will kill me," Snape whispered.

"No. No it won't." Lupin kneeled before him and pried Snape's hands from his hair and held them tightly. "As soon as you are free from the ritual, come to me and we will be together. It will be a marking only. You will not be displaced, I promise you. Please Severus. You know it is the only way."

"Who is it? Who is the man that Albus has chosen?" Snape asked, even as he did so, regretting the question that would give a face to the formless creature in his jealous mind's eye.

"Not a man," Lupin said. Snape blinked. "Albus has given this a great deal of thought. It isn't just the Lycanthropy that sets the rules, Severus. It must be a woman so our bond is not broken. There is a friend. Someone Albus has asked. She understands and has agreed."

Snape stared. A woman? A woman with his husband. Was that better or worse?

"Who?" Snape managed to croak, his throat now parched.

"Dora Tonks."

Snape closed his eyes slowly, his apprehension did not lift. Not at all. He let his head fall into his hands once more as visions of Lupin with Tonks, naked with Tonks, taking her as he took Snape at the full moon played out in lurid detail in his mind. He tasted the bile as it rose to his mouth. No matter how hard he tried, he could not believe it would be just a marking.

But he couldn't deny the Dark Lord, and survive. He couldn't let Lupin suffer. He could see no other way. His heart was racing so fast, he felt sick. No! Snape could not let his jealousy endanger Lupin. Not ever! He had sworn.

He raised his head to look at Lupin still kneeling before him, those beautiful blue eyes he adored so, searching his own. Snape grabbed Lupin's head and kissed him fiercely even as he felt a tear of his own trace down his cheek.

"I swore I would do anything to keep you safe."
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You Will Not Kiss Me