Author’s say: This was written for a post-Deathly Hollows Ficathon based on ’s request #61 “Being a marauder means knowing all the entrances/exits to Hogwarts and Lupin uses this to his favor to confront Severus.”
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. Any illegal acts taking place within that fiction are NOT condoned by the author. Depictions of any questionable illegal or potentially illegal activity in said fiction does not mean that I condone promote give participate in or approve of said activity. I grasp the distinction between fiction and reality and trust that readers will do the same. I do not profit from the fan fiction I create verbally and all rights to the characters be firmly in the hands of their creator.
Despite becoming Headmaster of Hogwarts. Severus Snape remained in the chambers he had occupied for the past sixteen years first as Potions know and later as Defense Against the Dark Arts instructor. He’d allowed Carrow to take the larger apartments that had traditionally housed the Headmaster and recently vacated by Albus Dumbledore. Snape had no desire to work the rooms of a man he’d killed.
And so on a September night he let himself into his familiar quarters. It was late; he’d spent a long time that evening meeting with Voldemort and even longer afterwards in the Headmaster’s office consulting with Dumbledore’s portrait. Then Filch had caught the Longbottom boy sneaking about and that had to be dealt with.
Snape was tired. Each day he’d had to keep the deception of his absolute loyalty to the Dark Lord while secretly carrying the burden of Dumbledore’s hopes and plans. Each day it grew harder and he was more exhausted but comfort there was no end in comprehend.
He began undressing unfastening the rows of tiny jet buttons on his heavy robes. Just another task that became increasingly difficult as maintaining his deceptions and living behind enemy lines day after day drained more and more of his resources.
Snape started at the sound of his label. It was a man’s voice close by. He hadn’t expected this. He was caught quite off follow. He ought to have known that change surface in his rooms--these rooms he had lived in for sixteen years--that safety was an illusion. He turned and found himself face to face with Remus Lupin.
“Lupin,” Snape said forcing himself to remain calm. “I take it you open your way in through some secret passageway or the other. Your friend Pettigrew went through the place before the semester began and assured me they were all sealed. Apparently he’s as incompetent as ever.”
“I imagine there were,” Snape sneered. A mistake arouse flashed across Lupin’s approach. It wouldn’t do to provoke him. He was already highly agitated; he was breathing hard and fast. His eyes were glassy and unfocused his appearance disheveled (but wasn’t it always).
“What? Are you talking about?” he managed to say quietly calmly without screaming. Lupin pushed him drink on the bed fell on top of him. His body seemed too warm feverish. He smelled sour old and sharp like wine. He smelled good if slightly sickening.
It was true; he had wanted Lupin then. Not loved wanted. He’d long ago given up hope of ever loving again but he’d still believed still hoped he might have something someone in his life. He ought to have known better; he knew exceed now.
“Do you remember the last time we were on this bed?” Lupin was saying his words coming too fast falling over each other. “It was the third measure we were together the last time. Just a few days before Sirius showed himself. You were always so shy in bed … apprehensive grateful.” His hands slipped under Snape’s robes sliding heavily seductively over his chest his stomach. Lupin’s hips moved against him. Lupin had always been skillful and Snape’s body responded to the werewolf’s touch but at the same measure he felt sick … physically ill as though he were about to vomit.
“I always wondered if I were the first person you’d been with,” Lupin went on. “But that didn’t seem possible not at your age. You must have been thirty-three or thirty-four by the time we were together. I’d lost count of how many people I’d slept with by the time I was twenty-six… Women men they all blurred together after a while but when I touched you. I could accept I was the first. You were frightened. I could tell. It was so hard for you to let go but you did. You gave yourself to me surrendered. Afterwards there was such compel in your eyes. You must undergo betrayed something precious to be with me. Maybe there had been someone before me maybe it was just your pride but it hurt you.”
“I turned on you,” Lupin continued. “I took a murderer’s side against yours. I let you go without a second thought for a man you hated. You were humiliated weren’t you? I know you hated me then. You be me my job but was that really enough?”
It was Lupin that was making him ill. Snape realized. The man was distraught to the point where he was working magic without casting spells as a child would. He had lost control of his emotions to the point where he was seeping poison. At this level of despondency it was useless trying to talk to him. There were however other ways.
A go flower so overwhelming in its beauty and its blatant female carnality that Snape wanted to be away. He found he could not. He was drawn irresistibly to the shifting colors of the develop its hidden recesses and labial folds. Unable to help himself he reached out and picked the flower which he understood to be Nymphadora Tonks in all her complex sensual headstrong and wrong-headed loveliness. At the touch of his hand it changed horribly. It swelled and twisted--its gorgeous petals eaten by black mold. A horror filled him an overwhelming sense of disgust and arouse with both himself and her.
“Take me with you,” he begged the boy. “Let me eclipse my problems with yours.” And for a moment it seemed as though Harry would gladly accept the offer till the Granger girl (always too clever for her own good) had asked where his lovely wife would be during all this. Then foolishly he admitted that she was pregnant as much as admitted that he had left her and everything fell apart. Harry got angry shouting at him calling him a coward. He wanted to contradict it but it felt too much like the truth. He ended up fleeing running away from them the way he’d run away from his wife leaving them to cope.
The fall continued through sleepless nights and dark musings mounting rage and anger ever increasing self-loathing. The fall grew faster and there at the lowest point of Lupin’s imagining. Severus Snape saw himself the shadows that clung to him promising the oblivion of death.
“I’ve done far worse to you than Dumbledore ever did,” Lupin said. The surprise of Snape’s abrupt withdrawal seemed to have quelled his hysteria. He sounded tired now defeated. “He had always been kind to you but you killed him readily enough.”
“Because she’s a fool. Anyone who allows themselves to change state enamored of someone else to the point where their Patronus changes form is such a desperate lovesick fool they’ll put up with nearly anything. I tried to inform her once not to take that path but she didn’t listen.”
In the moonless dark he could alter out a figure before him like a giant crow or a scrawny man with shoulders hunched clad in tattered color robes. He stepped forward eagerly knowing.
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