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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
- 86
- 87
- 88
Chapter 87: The Well-Laid Trap

Snape had to think fast. It was a Friday night and he could not make an excuse to get back to Hogwarts to advise Dumbledore of the plan and expect them to wait for him. As far as the Dark Lord was concerned, Dumbledore expected him to answer the call of the Dark Lord as Dumbledore's agent.

But how to get a warning to Idris?

As furiously as Snape was thinking, his exterior was calm and attentive. Greyback produced a map of Snowdonia as the three defectors attempted to locate the pack's encampment. Of course, they could not do so as the ancient Fidelius that resided in the Alpha's very soul prevented them even so much as indicating it on the map. But what they could tell the Dark Lord was information enough.

The Alpha had a second mate Claimed after the June full moon: a pure-blood wizard called Alf. This man was no werewolf.

"Miscegenation!" the Dark Lord sneered and hissed in disapproval, demanding more information on the wizard's lineage. The rangy werewolf called Jake confessed they knew nothing more than that Idris had brought this man into their encampment three months before the Claiming. This Alf was a qualified healer and had started teaching advanced spells to the cubs in the pack.

"And that itself will never do," the Dark Lord said dangerously as he stared at his wand playing through his fingers, Snape feeling the Dark Lord's anger mounting. "Continue."

Uriah then spoke, telling them that the protective enchantments around the pack's encampment were as ancient as its Fidelius and would shred anyone that tried to enter. They had rowed with Idris and been expelled from the pack. They would not be able to re-enter, let alone take anyone in with them.

"We could wait outside the wards for him," Greyback suggested.

"Nah. The perimeter's guarded all the time," Jake informed him, backing away from the larger werewolf. However, they did know a weakness that might be exploited. The Dark Lord, Snape and Greyback waited impatiently on the three vagabonds.

"He collects post from The Boar's Head Inn, see?" said Jude. "Gets hisself ingredients for medicines and has ... whas the word? Correspondence, that's it." He nodded self-importantly. "Correspondence with other wizards. No owl delivery to the camp, is there, see?" The three werewolves sniggered nervously and then stopped quickly under the Dark Lord's glare.

"Show me!" commanded the Dark Lord.

"'Ere," Jude said, triumphantly, pointing to the co-ordinates of The Blue Boar at the base of the mountain.

Greyback turned to the Dark Lord.

"I can snatch him there, my Lord."

The Dark Lord swivelled towards him.

"Yes, and these," he waved dismissively at the three traitors, "can be your snatchers." He turned sinuously to Snape. "You will go with them, Severus. You will make sure that our friends do not let their bestial nature overwhelm them and hurt the hostage. I want no repeat of the last mistake. Not this time." His head swivelled to Greyback and his crimson eyes flashed with anger. Greyback retreated a few steps, bowing.

Snape often had to think on his feet, and right now his mind was racing with all the balls he had to juggle.

Snape was desperately trying to think of a way to get the information out. There was no way a Patronus would go unnoticed as Snape stood there in the hall with maps out in front of them so they could make co-ordinates for their Apparition. Snape wasn't going to trust himself to one of these ragged werewolves in a side-along Apparition and he made no bones in telling them so, knowing the Dark Lord would sympathise with his lack of trust of the werewolves.

As he took careful measurements, his brain was in complete turmoil. A male mate? There had been no male mate when he and Lupin had been with the pack. No doubt, he and Lupin had wondered about Idris after seeing that photograph of Black's, but this was an extraordinary turn of events. How was it that Idris could have met someone, a wizard at that, for him to have mated? And what of Angharad? Something must have happened since. Idris knew the Dark Lord had returned so surely he would take precautions after what had happened to Bronwen.

The one thing Greyback hadn't asked the three traitors was a thing that would not cross his mind to ask. Greyback knew Lupin had been a thorn in his side to recruitment, but Snape was sure he was unaware of just how successful Lupin had been in guiding werewolves to Idris instead. He would not know just how many lone wolves and packs had joined forces with the Snowdon pack.

Snape reckoned on well over one hundred werewolves, ready and able to support their Alpha, not including those too young, old or infirm to fight. What Snape was now formulating was a plan to provoke them to fight: not a one-on-one, as before, but a pack fight that would inflict such grievous injuries on Greyback's pack that the Dark Lord would know Idris was unassailable. It was a gamble but if Snape could pull it off, it would be worth the risk.

Snape had to ensure that he led Greyback to the question in such a way Greyback would not think to worry about numbers so no suspicion would fall on Snape when they found out they were hopelessly outnumbered.

"Are we to be the advance party?" asked Snape.

"Whaddya mean?" Greyback said, affronted.

"Well, it's one thing to snatch a man, but once we have him, I think we can assume the whole pack will try to rescue him."

"Good point, Severus," the Dark Lord said. "Don't delay catching the Blood Traitor, but summon your pack to you, Greyback. I will have some of our friends of the north accompany them to make certain of the matter."

After an hour of further discussion, the party was ready to depart. Greyback went to summon his pack and Snape excused himself and, casting a silencing charm in the cloakroom, called to Lupin in the mirror, hoping he would not compromise him. Lupin answered, luckily alone at that time. Snape hurriedly told him everything that had passed in the hall and what the plan currently was. He saw the fear grow in Lupin's eyes that Snape would be in the company of Greyback, but calmed him as well as he could. After all, Snape was the Dark Lord's trusted envoy in this; Lupin had to have faith that it would keep him safe.

Eventually, Lupin had calmed down and promised he would get a message to Dumbledore and try to extract himself from his current situation and make his way to the pack directly.

"How can we keep in touch once you're with Greyback?" asked Lupin.

Snape thought quickly.

"I will charm the mirror to alert me if you call me, but I will have to cast a one-way charm on it, so you will not be seen or heard until I release it."

Snape performed the charm and then placed the mirror in the breast pocket of his waistcoat so he could feel any alert, knowing that it would be highly unlikely he would be able to answer it, certainly not whilst Greyback was nearby.

"Very good, Severus. Please," Lupin said earnestly. "Take care!"

oooOOOooo

Snape Apparated with precision at the base of the mountain. He breathed the air in deeply, his eyes flickering closed briefly, instantly recalling his times with Lupin both with the pack and at the farmhouse. He drew back to the cover of the forest, having spotted the inn not twenty feet away.

The three traitors followed, then Greyback and a low-rank wizard he believed to be called Scabior. Snape kept the sneer from his face. 'Snatchers' the Dark Lord had called them. It was certainly all they were good for.

Uriah pointed out the Apparition point that tended to be used for the inn and Scabior found a place just within the trees that had space enough for a Wizarding tent as a temporary base.

"Don't know as we wants to share with them," sneered Scabior to Snape, nodding towards the werewolves.

"And yet it is Greyback who wears Death Eater robes, Scabior, not you," Snape said dangerously, knowing Greyback would hear. "You want to watch yourself. Especially when his friends arrive."

The wizard went back to finishing the tent, his face scarlet as Greyback turned to Snape and nodded. Snape nodded back. Let the brute think Snape sympathised with him. Snape knew somehow he would turn this mission into punishment for Greyback, if he possibly could, and Merlin knew, Snape was inventive. Snape cast the protective enchantments and set the rota for keeping watch, one of them with one of the traitors to identify this Alf: he would take first watch with Jude; Greyback with Jake; and Scabior with Uriah.

The first watches yielded nothing. The second of Snape's watches, except the sight of the delivery owls descending on the inn in the crisp, misty dawn, was the same. Snape had guessed his watch would coincide with the deliveries and had hoped this person, this Alf, would be prompt. Snape was disappointed. He had wanted to be the one to catch him, to try to get a message to him. Disconsolately, he let Greyback and Jake take over, but he did not close his eyes to sleep.

Then he heard it – the crack of Apparition. He jumped to his feet and ran to the tent opening in time to hear Greyback shout, "STUPEFY!" and see a man fall to the ground. The werewolf named Jake was on him in a flash, kicking the fallen man in the stomach.

"STOP IT!" bellowed Snape at the same instant as he cast a hex that sent Jake flying. "You are not to hurt the hostage! You know the Dark Lord's command!" Snape reached the man. "Mobilicorpus," he cast and the body Levitated ahead of him, the head bowed and the long hair covering his face.

Snape took in the fine robes, delicately patterned, probably more expensive than anything Snape had ever owned. The tall, slim man's long black hair had grey wings and there was something familiar about him, although Snape had not yet seen his face.

Snape laid the man on one of the cots, as the three traitors sniffed around, like carrion feeders.

"Get them away, Greyback! They've served their purpose," Snape spat. "And him as well." Snape nodded at Scabior, openly eyeing the expensive clothes and boots.

Greyback marshalled them away from the cot as they muttered against him into another compartment as Snape cast for any injuries to the man's stomach. He found a cracked rib and repaired it and gave him a dose of internal injury potion. It was only as he spelled the potion into the man that he took a good look at his face.

Snape's eyes widened enormously and then narrowed as total confusion washed over him.

Alf. Alf. It couldn't be. It would make sense though. After all, Snape knew the story: how this man had searched for Idris all those years. But it couldn't be Alphard Black. He was dead. Long since dead. That's what Black had said.

But there in front of him was the spit and image of Sirius Black, but older. This information had to be kept from the Dark Lord and Bellatrix at all costs. Such a blood traitor prize! Bellatrix would split herself to get her hands on such a prize and to prove her devotion to the Dark Lord with cruelty perpetrated on a member of her own family. She would take pride in it.

After checking he was not observed, Snape opened a fold in the tent and cast a spell to create a commotion outside.

"Get out there, Greyback! Check there's no-one else! Make a thorough search!" he yelled.

As soon as the others had left the tent, Snape cast Muffliato, just in case, and, wand pointed at Alf, he cast, "Rennervate!"

Groggily, Alf came awake and then cast a startled look at Snape and the wand pointed at him.

"Say nothing, do you hear me," hissed Snape.

Alf nodded, warily, backing away from Snape.

"Are you Alphard Black?" demanded Snape.

Alf nodded slowly, his slate eyes locking with Snape's. An odd, cold sensation crawled over Snape's skin at those familiar eyes, but he had no time to ask all the questions that were on the tip of his tongue. It was no time for morbid curiosity.

"Under no circumstances tell my companions who you are. The consequences for you will be painful and lethal. Whatever I tell you to do, you must do it, even if you complain about it. Your life depends on me now. You don't know me, but Idris does. He knows me as Seth Moore ..."

"I've heard of you ..." the man interrupted, his voice cultured and melodic.

"I said, say nothing," Snape hissed and then glanced quickly as he heard the men returning. He removed the spell and stood, his wand still pointed at Alphard.

"Oh. He's awake, is he? Who is he then, this lover-boy of Idris?" Greyback demanded, with a foul leer.

"I didn't ask and, frankly, we don't need to know." His eyes darted to Alphard briefly. "You will all keep your distance from him. He is a hostage," he turned his blackest stare on Greyback and then on each of the three traitors, "not a toy," and then to Scabior, "or a mugger's mark."

Snape Summoned a chair and sat next to the cot and crossed his long legs in front of him, his wand held across his lap as he took in the looks and grumbles of dissatisfaction from the others assembled. He cast a quick silencing charm on Alphard.

"And I don't need to hear anything from you either, unnatural blood traitor!" snarled Snape but he looked Alphard right in the eyes. "Lie down."

Alphard's eyes went wide with fear. Snape rolled his own eyes with exaggeration, hoping Alphard understood that Snape did not intend to harm him.

"Do it!" he barked.

Alphard lay on the cot, and Snape cast Incarcerous, binding Alphard's wrists in front of him and his ankles together.

"I'd'a done it tighter," groused Greyback. "Or wi' manacles." He leered.

"Yes, I'm sure the Dark Lord would be delighted by the cuts and bruises of binding," sneered Snape. "He's not to be harmed. Why don't you people understand that?"

Greyback growled deep in his throat but Snape faced him down. The atmosphere in the tent became heavy but Greyback backed down. He knew where Snape stood in the Dark Lord's inner circle. Challenging Snape would be tantamount to dishonouring the Dark Lord. His anger now impotent, Greyback looked at the floor and grunted, his hairy knuckles whitened into fists.

"Good. We understand each other. Now. The message has to get to this Idris," Snape made a dismissive gesture as if this mere werewolf could be of no consequence to him. "How? Will one of you deliver it?" He looked to the three traitors. All three tried to make themselves smaller, cringing under his gaze.

"He'll kill me," croaked Jake. "If'n I go anywhere near the pack. He'll kill any of us."

"And what a pity that would be," retorted Snape, snidely. "Well. Who is it to be?" he snapped impatiently. "I'm not leaving our precious hostage in any of your hands, and whilst I'll happily take over when this Idris is out in the open, there's no way I'm going into a den of stinking beasts!" snarled Snape. "What about you? You're one of them."

Greyback growled again.

"There's history," he muttered, "between me and him."

"I know," said Snape, sounding as bored as possible. "You held his mate hostage and challenged him to single combat. He thrashed you and so you butchered her …"

As the onlookers' eyes widened and they shuffled nervously as Greyback lunged towards Snape, snarling, but a quick repelling jinx sent him flying unceremoniously backwards.

"Let's not even pretend you're a match for me, Greyback," Snape sneered and then straightened and looked at them all as Greyback scrabbled to get back on his feet. "The question is: is it to our advantage that you and he have this history? He won't trust you, that's for sure."

"I'll go," said Scabior, his chest thrusting out with idiotic, misplaced bravado.

Snape's eyebrow rose. He knew this low-ranking acolyte was desperate for the attention of the Dark Lord. Why not? Why not indeed?

"You," he snapped at Uriah. "You will take him to where you know there'll be a look-out placed. You two will keep them covered in case they're felled before they have a chance to deliver my ransom note. Is it likely they'll take you into the wards, or will Idris come to you?"

"Probably take them in," muttered Jake, his eyes darting between Scabior and Uriah. "After that, I don't know."

"What are the chances he'll exchange himself for his …" Greyback said, pointing at Alphard, " … that?"

On hearing this, the prone figure began to twist in his bonds, trying to protest, although no sound could be heard.

"Exchange? I would imagine none," said Snape lightly. "Nevertheless, it is what we'll ask for. We need to get Idris out of the wards, then we can trap him, but he must not be hurt. The Dark Lord has forbidden any harm to come to him. I expect it will come to a battle, so your reinforcements better be up to it."

"Against a bunch of mountain werewolves?" Greyback sneered. "My pack will easily overcome them. And with Dementors too, they ain't got no chance."

As Greyback bragged, Snape wondered whether Lupin had arrived to tell Idris the plan. So much depended on his being there to point Idris away from doing anything rash, for if he was anything like Lupin, his mate in danger would be like a red rag to a bull.

"These beasts are notoriously sentimental and weak about their mates, are they not, Greyback?" asked Snape, snidely.

The wolf-man grimaced, his sharp teeth visible. "It is a weakness of our kind. Others – wolves who want to be strong – take no mate."

"And scorn those that do, no doubt," Snape commented, dismissively, noting once again the discomfort of the three traitors. He suspected they would flee before this day was out.

"Ties. Bonds," sneered Greyback. "Those connections have those names for a reason. I just take what I need."

Snape nodded as if Greyback's statement were in some way sage, even though his skin crawled with revulsion, knowing exactly what Greyback's 'needs' entailed. Then he snapped his attention back to the group.

"So we try for a direct swap first. When that fails, as it so assuredly will, some judicious evidence of torture I am sure will bring Idris out, no doubt with his pack."

The wolf-man laughed chestily, and Scabior leered, but the three werewolves passed worried looks between each other.

"You said the queer wasn't to be harmed, but now ..."

"Oh, old Snape knows how never to leave a mark," Greyback chuckled unpleasantly, his eyes holding a glint of appreciation as he leered at the figure struggling on the cot. "Very controlled in his torture, is Snape."

Snape held up a hand in acknowledgement, as if arrogance personified. "I do what is needed to achieve the results required. I leave torture as a sport to others." Snape tilted his head towards Greyback, as if in deference. Scabior snorted like the ignorant fool he undoubtedly was.

"I'll write the note. You deliver it."

Snape pulled a pouch from his cloak and retrieved parchment and quill. He turned his back so the group did not see him write their location at the base of the parchment and then make it invisible with the charm he shared with Lupin. He folded it in a conspicuous manner that the reader would notice, and then wrote above it in words that were visible to all:

Idris, alpha of the Snowdon pack.

We have the wizard, Alf. If you want him to live, you will give yourself up to me at noon today.

The Dark Lord commands it.

Then, Snape pointed his wand at Alphard, whose eyes widened as he continued to thrash against his bonds, as Snape cast a small cutting curse to Alphard's thumb and pressed the parchment to the blood.

"Your ... mate ... will recognise your blood, I think," Snape said with an unkind smile but he healed the cut immediately with a small gesture unnoticed by the others.

Snape couldn't think of a note that would infuriate Idris more. As it should be.

oooOOOooo

He had engineered it so that the four had left, two to deliver message and two to provide cover. Snape ordered the remaining werewolf to keep watch outside, for no other reason than to speak to Alphard on his own. He reckoned he had no more than fifteen minutes at the outside. He cast Muffliato and then lifted the charm from Alphard.

"We need to be quick. There'll be little time," Snape said quickly. "The Dark Lord wants Idris as his wandmaker ..."

"Hasn't Riddle done enough to us?" Alphard snapped.

"There is always room for more cruelty in the Dark Lord, Alphard Black," Snape said quietly, regarding the man's face, still stunned by the family resemblance. "We are here by the Dark Lord's command and you are seen as Idris's weakness."

"Idris won't give himself up. He didn't before; he won't now," Alphard said proudly. "And I don't expect him to."

Snape regarded the man with interest: so alike in aspect to Sirius Black; so utterly different in bearing. This man held his head with pride, but no scorn. His expression was serious, but not belligerent. He had none of the impetuousness of Black, or the cruelty and madness of Bellatrix.

"I don't know why I'm surprised this tactic is being tried again," Snape eventually continued. "He sees no other way to get what he wants and, believe me, he wants your mate as his wandmaker."

"Do you know our story? How Idris was turned? How many years ago that was?"

"I do," confirmed Snape. "Before, it was to arm the werewolves loyal to him. Now, the Dark Lord needs a wandmaker because his wand fails him. It is now a very personal – ah – acquisition," said Snape, speaking quickly as he checked on Jude's whereabouts. "It is, of course, vital that he does not acquire Idris. I must do all I can to look as if I wish to achieve it, whilst ensuring it fails."

"Why do you not name him?" Alphard whispered harshly.

Snape inhaled sharply, his eyes flicking to his Dark Mark. "He would know. He has a Taboo Curse in this brand I bear to give him knowledge of traitors."

Alphard leant forward to look but Snape snatched his arm away.

"No time. Now, listen. I have loosened your bonds. Your wand is in my left cloak pocket. I'm working blind to an extent but I hope I have got a message to Idris. They should be surrounding our position. At the first sign of attack, push me and take your wand. Then you must Disapparate. Do nothing else. Disapparate and get back behind the wards of the camp."

"What will you do then?" asked Alphard, his face attentive as he tried the flexibility of his bonds.

"You needn't concern yourself with that. Just get yourself back to Idris so he isn't handicapped."

"What do you mean: handicapped?" Alphard asked harshly.

"From fighting, of course. If you're held hostage, it will handicap him. If you're with him, he can lead properly. Idris and his pack need to fight and thrash Greyback once and for all, do you see?"

"Yes," Alphard nodded, then looked up sharply as the noise of the men returning, and lay back on the cot. "Good luck."

Only three men returned. Scabior had been taken into the wards at wandpoint and the rest told to leave or be killed. A messenger would be sent.

It would be a waiting game.

Snape could wait. He had waited so many years already. He sat back in the chair by the cot, his face expressionless, and waited.

oooOOOooo

It was another two hours before various cracks of Apparition were heard just outside his temporary wards. Snape didn't stir from his seat, knowing from Greyback's smirk that his pack had arrived. Snape counted the Apparitions. Thirty-three. His jaw worked not to smirk himself. Hopelessly outnumbered, just as he had hoped.

Then he felt it: the cold. The chill that could only come with Dementors and the feeling of desolation they brought with them, just by their proximity. He'd be damned if he sit here for hours thinking of the times he'd injured Lupin with the Thrall, or betrayed Lily and first heard of her death, or carved Lupin's mind, or ...

"Get them back," he snarled at Greyback. "We don't want them until Idris's pack is out of the wards."

"They can't hurt you," growled Greyback, indicating Snape's Dark Mark.

"Doesn't mean I want them anywhere near me until it's time, understood?" Snape barked back.

Grumbling, Greyback left the tent and Snape saw, from the corner of his eye, how pale Alphard had become. He heard Greyback bellowing orders at the Dementors and gradually the dread chill lifted and Snape felt he could breathe once more as he continued his vigil over the hostage, listening to Greyback grunting at his pack to fan out around the enchantments Snape had set.

Then there were shouts. Someone had come.

Snape leapt up, his wand pointing at Alphard as his finger pressed to his lips for silence at Alphard's questioning look.

Greyback came bustling through the tent, a werewolf held roughly by one arm. Snape recognised his face immediately. It was Pisser from the Whitby Werewolves carrying a white square of material. Alphard started forward.

"Stay put!" Snape barked at him, then he turned to Pisser. "Who are you?"

"I'm Idris's messenger, Botolph," the mean-faced man said, his voice trembling, although Snape could see he was trying to be brave. Botolph? Since when? Times seemed to change fast in Idris's pack. He was guilty, Snape could tell. But why? "He wants to talk terms with you."

Greyback sniggered. "Terms, is it? Terms for the return of lover-boy."

"That's quite enough," Snape snapped. "Where and when."

"In the inn, down there. Now."

Snape regarded the man through narrowed eyes. That is not the plan. Shit. Where is Lupin? There was no way he was going to leave Alphard here with Greyback and his pack and he had no idea if Alphard would be able to Disapparate from inside the inn. He couldn't risk it.

"I can't leave the hostage," Snape stated. "The Dark Lord's order."

He heard Greyback grunt.

"You think I can't be trusted."

"I know you can't, werewolf. You have form," Snape said, his own lip curling. "I think the inn is dangerous. The clearing just outside the wards will do. Out in the open so everyone can see, and bring the hostage so I can keep an eye on him and Idris will see he's unharmed. Go back to your Alpha. Tell him that."

Botolph nodded quickly and almost ran from the tent to the raucous laughter of the werewolves outside.

"Come!" Snape grasped Alphard's upper arm and dragged him to his feet. "Keep quiet and do as you're told and you may yet make it back to your mate."

Alphard stared hard at Snape, and Snape knew he was completely confused. Snape pretended to tighten the bonds on Alphard's wrists.

"You go ahead of me, Greyback. Make sure your pack watches our backs."

Greyback grunted in acknowledgement and Snape pushed Alphard ahead with the tip of his wand, leaving the tent for the first time since Alphard had been brought here. Dozens of mean looking werewolves sat and stood around small fires to keep themselves warm on this bitter January day. Snape felt his mouth dry out at their proximity to him. It could all be over so quickly.

Snape walked to the edge of his wards and then through, watching around himself as he made his way to the centre of the clearing where Idris stood with Botolph, flanked by his eldest sons, Gareth and Geraint, their wands at the ready. Never had he seen the Alpha look so impressive – or so furious.

He saw the way Idris's eyes ran over Alphard then locked on Greyback.

Snape felt the hairs on his body rise.

They were being watched.

Suddenly, a hex out of nowhere knocked Snape to the forest floor and he felt a pair of hands grab his cloak and find and pull out the wand as he heard Greyback yell to his pack who began to run thunderously, shouting out curses as spells began to fly.

As soon as he heard the crack of Apparition that he hoped was Alphard, as he struggled to his feet, a large, strong arm lashed out and punched Snape in the throat. He bent double as he struggled for breath through the temporarily bruised windpipe. He fell heavily on all fours, his wand dropping by his side and he coughed as he re-gained his breath. But then, someone kicked him high and hard so he fell on his back, winded once more, the sounds of fighting crashing about him.

"He's got the evil brand!" someone shouted as they dragged up his sleeve. Still struggling for breath, Snape's hand, fingers stretched wide, searched for his wand, his brain racing to determine a plan for escape as he looked around himself to see Greyback and his pack held at bay by a group of Idris's werewolves, returning fire fiercely.

Then, he found himself straddled, his arms trapped by his sides, by a heavy man's knees and grabbed by his hair.

As his eyes re-focused, they took in the wand pointed at his heart, then focused on the man behind it whose dark eyes blazed with fury in a scarred and weathered face surrounded by shaggy white hair.

"And just how valuable will ye be to Tom Riddle, I wonder ..." the large Alpha growled, his gritted teeth showing as Idris leant in to snarl with a venom that made his blood freeze, " ... Severus Snape."

.

A/N: Idris and Alphard's story is told in my story, "Old Friend", if you'd like to know more.
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You Will Not Kiss Me