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The Truth Will Out	By : BunnyBopper Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Snape/Remus Views: 5655 -:- Recommendations : 2 -:- Currently Reading : 2
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor the characters from it. I do not make any money from writing this story.

Chapter List
- 7
- 8
- 9
From the moment Remus arrived back at Hogwarts he had been plagued by an ever-growing sense of guilt. Small things at first; the inconvenience he caused his colleagues by needing his classes covered each month; the disruption this caused to his student's learning; the cost of his Wolfsbane potion which no doubt came directly out of the school's budget; and the burden placed on Severus Snape—a man who clearly hated him as much now as he did when they were children—to make the damn thing. They built up slowly, one on top of the other until he felt less deserving of the position of Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher now than when Dumbledore first offered it to him.
But lately, one thing loomed high over all of these little guilts, sucking the joy out of him better than Azkaban's strongest dementor could have. All of Remus' other faults paled in comparison to the fact that he was so ashamed, so utterly gutless, that he was unable to give Dumbledore—the man who had already invested so much in Remus and gotten so little back—the thing he most needed from him: how Sirius was getting into the castle.
Many a time Remus had thought back to that day with the Veritaserum, the day that started all this, and wondered how different things would have been if only Severus had asked the right questions.
"How have you been helping Sirius Black into the castle?"
"I have not."
The thing about truth potions was—you had to be specific. And the thing about Severus was that, as intelligent as he was, he had a habit of getting carried away with his own theories. If he had just asked 'How has Sirius Black been getting into the castle?' things would have turned out very different indeed.
Because Remus did know exactly how Sirius had gotten in. (Or at least, he could give it his best and most educated guess.) For wasn't he the underserving reason his friend had undergone the long and dangerous process of becoming an Animagus in the first place?
Perhaps this whole thing with Severus, from the moment he had tied Remus to the chair and awakened this thing inside Remus he never knew was there, (No. Before that even. For hadn't he known there was something wrong with the Wolfsbane before he'd drank it?) perhaps this was less about thrills and desire and more about punishment? Some sort of external confirmation that Remus wasn't the brave, selfless martyr everyone else seemed to think he was? Perhaps.
But if this was all about punishment, even Remus would find what was to come next exceedingly cruel...

***

Just as Remus could not be sure what point things had turned from the life-saving imbibement of water to kissing, he also could not be sure how long the kissing lasted. He has grown so lost in Severus' mouth, so engrossed in such a simple thing, that it's now impossible to tell whether time is speeding up or slowing down. All Remus knows is that he has lost track of it.
It shouldn't have come as a surprise for he had spent a great deal of time thinking about Severus' mouth. Had imagined it trailing gentle kisses over his chest, down his navel, ghosting over his hips, dragging across his thighs, and—of course—being wrapped around his cock. And not for a few brief moments like the one and only time it had been before. (When Remus had come suddenly and messily into it after having been teased for a sadistic amount of time...) No. In his mind, things were slow, drawn-out, leisurely.
But most often when he imagined Severus' mouth, he thought about kissing. Just kissing. It was strange because kissing was not usually something Remus spent a lot of time fantasising about, but after having been denied it for so long, after all the times they had come so very close only for Severus to pull away, Remus found himself wanting it more than anything else. He also found that once they started, he was unable to get enough.
It has become so rough it's almost painful, but each time they break apart Remus' lips burn and throb so badly, the only way to get any relief is to press them back against Severus' even harder. And when the bindings around his wrists and ankles fall away, Remus takes that as an invitation—no, permission—to finally wrap his arms around Severus and pull him even closer.
And even though they are both still fully clothed, the feeling of their bodies pressed together is pure bliss. He moves his hands down to rest on the small of Severus' firm back, taking a moment to enjoy the feel of Severus' hardness pressing into his hip, before shifting their position so that it grinds deliciously against his own. Severus returns the moan Remus lets out into his mouth and the sound of it is enough to whip Remus into a frenzy.
God, he wants—
He needs to—
"That's enough for tonight."
The words hit Remus exactly the same as if Severus had just conjured another glass of ice-cold water and thrown it in his face.
"What?" Remus asks, hoping against hope he has misheard.
But Severus has already extracted himself from Remus. He pushes himself up and off and is on the other side of the room before Remus has time to blink. Now it's not just Remus' lips that are on fire: his whole body burns for contact. Desperate to feel Severus' weight back on top of it.
In the time it takes Severus to prepare the Wolfsbane, Remus has wracked his brain to try and determine what possible thing he could have done wrong. He comes up with several different options to choose from—each one as irrational and insignificant as the next.
Although...Severus doesn't look angry as he watches Remus drink his bitter potion. In fact, he looks as though he's wound up just as tight as Remus is right now. And with his reddened lips and rumpled clothes he looks...well...even after their relationship changed so drastically, Remus had never really considered him handsome. (Formidable, tempting, and darkly alluring—yes. Handsome—no.) But now...
Now Remus does the unthinkable. He kisses Severus again.
The goblet clatters to the floor and rolls off into some unseen corner of the room where none but the most diligent of House Elves will have any hope of finding it. Remus kisses Severus just as roughly as before, hoping the force of his desire will be enough to reignite Severus' once more. Tries to push him just far enough over the edge for him to feel like breaking the rules of his own game. And for a moment—when he feels Severus' hesitant mouth relax under his—Remus thinks it's worked. But when Remus tries to slip his tongue back into Severus' mouth, that's when he feels himself being grabbed tightly by the wrists.
"What—" Severus pushes him away firmly "—did I just say?"
A mumbled "Sorry" spills out of Remus' mouth before he can stop it. And he is sorry, but, truth be told, he's also hoping there will be some punishment in store for this little indiscretion.
Severus lets go of his wrists. "Don't let it happen again," is all he says before walking away.
And there it is: his dismissal. Oh well, Remus thinks, there's always tomorrow night. He never thought he would be grateful that taking Wolfsbane was a week-long fiasco.
"Oh... and Remus?" Severus calls out just as Remus turns to leave. "Just for that, there will be no taking matters into your own hands if you catch my drift. Not until I say so. And trust me—I'll know if you do..."

***

The cold shower Remus takes when he gets back to his quarters gives him just enough relief to fall asleep, but unfortunately with sleep comes dreams. All of which involve Severus.
In the most vivid of these, he is on top of Remus like before, only this time they are both naked. Remus is unbound and he marvels at the fact that not only is he getting to see Severus' body for the first time, he is also free to touch it. Free to give instead of take. And Severus lets him. It isn't long until Remus takes them both in his hand, stroking them both as one. Their mouths stay connected the entire time (something that in reality would be rather difficult, but in the dream, they pull off seamlessly), kisses growing hungrier the closer they get.
Remus wakes suddenly and with only his own cock in hand, seconds from coming. Cursing loudly, he jerks his hand away sharply and does his best to breathe through it.
When he's sure it's safe, Remus lifts the blankets and looks down. His straining cock—engorged and impossibly slick—stares back as if begging him to continue. It wouldn't take much. And would Severus really know?
He spends some time there, teetering on the edge of both orgasm and indecision, before shoving off the blankets in frustration and leaping out of bed. Severus would know. Remus isn't entirely sure how yet, but something in Severus' voice had told him there was more than simple mind games at play. After all, he still doesn't know what that salty potion was actually for...
Distraction. That is what he needs. After completing a brisk, five AM walk around the grounds (while wearing his roomiest set of robes) Remus is starting to feel more in control. With it being a Saturday, Remus is less busy than he would like to be, but he takes it upon himself to stay occupied by throwing himself into all the little tasks he has been neglecting for too long. By the time he has patched up that hole in his travelling cloak, polished his shoes, given his wardrobe another spray of doxy-repellent, and organised all of his socks by colour—all without magic, of course—it is finally time for breakfast.
When Remus enters the Great Hall, Severus is talking with Minerva and doesn't look up. Remus can't make out what they are discussing over the clatter of dishes and hundreds of other voices all talking at once, but it must be something important because Severus doesn't even register Remus' presence until long after he has taken his usual seat next to him.
Severus is in the middle of pouring himself a second cup of coffee when he eventually asks, "Sleep well, Remus?"
Two things cause everyone at the staff table to turn and look at them. One is Severus' use of Remus' first name and the other is the fact that Severus is talking to him at all. Having no option but to answer, Remus clears his throat.
"I'm afraid I was tossing and turning quite a bit."
Emphasis on the tossing, Remus thinks as he starts piling the crunchiest-looking bits of bacon onto his plate.
Severus glances at him but says nothing, merely raising an eyebrow before going back to cutting his sausage up into tiny pieces as he always.
"And you?" Remus asks in return. (Because it's the polite thing to do. And apparently, that's what they're doing right now: having a polite conversation in front of everyone.)
"Hmmm..." Severus muses, still sawing away at his sausage, "took me a little while to get off...but I got there in the end."
This causes Remus to do a very good job of choking on his pumpkin juice, Severus to smirk, and Hagrid to pat Remus hard on the back and possibly give him a bruised rib in the process.
Thankfully, Minerva seizes the opportunity to resume her—now rather heated—discussion with Severus (which Remus discovers is about the value of Gobstones and whether it should be recognised as an official sport).
Once Remus has fully recovered (Yes, thank you Hagrid I'm fine.), and prevented further injury to his ribs (Yes, thank you Hagrid. Hagrid you can stop patting me now. Hagrid, please!), all he has to do is get through the rest of breakfast without thinking about Severus getting himself off.
This turns out to be more difficult than he first thought, especially with Severus being so close. Usually, he edges away from Remus at the staff table, going so far as to physically shift his chair over to put as much distance between them as possible. By the end of a meal, he is practically sitting on top of Minerva who can frequently be heard complaining about her lack of elbow room. But today there is none of that. Severus isn't going out of his way to touch Remus, but he's not doing anything to avoid it either. Each time their arms brush together—when Severus reaches for the butter or when Filius asks Remus to pass the pepper—it sends a tingle through Remus, starting from the point of contact and moving its way out through his entire body until it's all he can do to not physically shiver.
Then there's his voice: slow and deeply melodic. (In stark contrast to Minerva's which is becoming shriller by the moment.) And Remus doesn't miss the lilt of pleasure in it when Severus suggests that a five-year-old with a Gobstone displays more skill—and certainly more sportsmanship—than any grown adult on the quidditch pitch. He laughs softly in response to Minerva's outrage, clearly taking a perverse enjoyment in winding her up. Not unlike when he...
An unwelcome heat starts to pool in Remus' groin and spreads up to his face before he knows it. He excuses himself from the table with three quarters of bacon and eggs still sitting on his plate.

***

Then it's back to distraction.
Remus makes a beeline for his classroom—somewhere he rarely goes on a Saturday—and sets to work. He cleans out the Grindylow tank even though it doesn't need doing for a few more days (something the Grindylow seems most miffed about); rearranges the student's seating plan four times (before putting it back exactly as it was); removes the charm someone had placed on the skeleton in the corner (lately it had been giving the 'thumbs up' sign whenever Gryffindor were awarded points); and lastly, prises off all of the chewing gum that has accumulated on the underside of the desks (most of which is clustered under the one Fred and George Weasley share at the back of the room).
After that, it's time for lunch but Remus decides to skip it in the interest of avoiding another public taunting. He remembers that there is still some of the emergency chocolate he keeps for his lessons with Harry stashed in a drawer in his office, so that's where he heads to next.
The chocolate gives him enough energy to finish his lesson plans for the next two months (Gorgons right through to Banshees); mark his third-year's essay on Vampires (something Miss Brown and Miss Patil earn exceptionally high marks for), and finally submit his request to Dumbledore for an excursion into the forest (it would be risky, but he really wanted his seventh-years to have a chance to search for Hinkypunks).
Remus is borderline exhausted but he doesn't dare stop for a break. For he finds that whenever he does put down his quill, whenever his mind does naturally stray from whatever mundane task he's trying to absorb himself in—his thoughts go straight to Severus. The real one and the one from his dream merging together. Flashes of pale skin, wet tongues meeting, hips grinding together. Catching himself only when his hand begins straying to his groin.

***

Although Remus is a firm believer in the healing power of chocolate, he finds it does not sustain him for as long as he'd like, and by five o'clock he has no choice but to drag his trembling body down to dinner. Which, thank Merlin, turns out to be uneventful.
Severus isn't there. This is unusual but not unheard of. Sometimes he gets overly enthusiastic with some poor Gryffindor's detention, or carried away with some new creation of his involving Bat Spleens or Bobotuber Puss, and loses track of time. But Remus can't help wondering if tonight there is some other reason for his absence, that perhaps he is busy preparing something more than just Wolfsbane...
The thought makes Remus' stomach twist in anticipation and—despite how famished he is—renders his appetite non-existent. Still, he shovels down his Shepherd's pie and peas without tasting any of it while also managing to make small talk with Minerva over the gap where Severus' empty chair sits.
By the evening things get so desperate that Remus decides to take up Pomona's long-standing offer to trim his hair. (And, considering she only has a pair of garden shears to hand, she does quite a good job.)
As their usual meeting time draws nearer, Remus becomes even antsier than before. He doesn't know what to do. He hasn't seen Severus since morning and has received no word from him about where to meet. More than once, he considers going down to Severus' quarters—even jumps out of his office chair several times—but each time he sits back down. He doesn't dare risk overstepping the mark again.
When Severus finally does arrive, it isn't a knock at the door that alerts Remus to his presence, but the crackle of his fireplace. The neglected embers had all but burned out, but now they burst into flame. The room fills with a flash of green light before Severus steps out of the fireplace, brushing ash off his robes and carrying not one, but two silver flasks.
He doesn't return Remus' greeting, but the knowing smile he gives him is enough to let Remus know he's pleased. Remus feels a disproportionate amount of pride and his chest practically glows with the warmth of Severus' approval (even as he tells himself how ridiculous he's being).
Severus hands him the first flask and Remus drinks eagerly, the bitterness of the Wolfsbane barely registering. Severus doesn't seem to mind it either as, before Remus can even begin to guess what is in the second flask, he closes the distance between them—first their bodies, then their lips.
All that pent-up arousal instantly floods Remus' body. He parts their lips immediately, groans as their tongues meet. He cups the back of Severus' head with both hands and presses their bodies closer together, not caring if Severus feels how hard he's gotten already. No, he wants him to feel it. To know just how desperate he has made him.
But Severus pulls away all too soon. Drags his wet lips across Remus' as he says, "That's enough or you're going to be late."
Remus, too, pulls back, confused. Severus takes the opportunity to hand him the second flask and what's inside it only adds to Remus' bewilderment.
Coffee.
"What?" Severus asks, black eyes glinting with amusement. "Did you forget it was your night to patrol?"
- 7
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- 9
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The Truth Will Out