Author:bonfoi Rating: PG Pairing: Remus Lupin/Severus Snape Summary: This story takes place in an alternate reality where Remus’ spine is a bit stiffer, Severus’ heart a bit tender, and they see something about the other that makes it worthwhile. Challenge: lupin_snape RetroFest 2009, Prompt #6 (see inside for full prompt). Word Count: Part One: 1,828 Genre: Alternate Reality; Romance; Angst; Humor Warnings: None Highlight for Warnings: * None * A/N: I wondered how Remus made contact with the werewolf clans, how Severus and Harry might interact when one of them wasn’t angry, and, now…I hope that I met the requirements of the prompt with what the Prompter needed, besides the Snupin Love! The speculations used are listed at the end of the fic.
Disclaimer: The world of Harry Potter, its characters and settings are the copyrighted works of J.K. Rowling, Warner Bros., her publishing companies and affiliates. No profit was made from the writing of this story nor was any malice intended in any way, shape or form to the author or the actors/actresses who so brilliantly have brought them to life.
This author is not responsible for underage readers. Please observe the ratings, warnings, and age of legal consent for your country.
Highlight to read: * HBP era - Remus is trying to maintain his role as spy among the werewolves and fend off Tonks; Severus is trying to maintain his role as spy among the DEs and fend off Bellatrix, who has taken a shine to him (bonus points if she uses weird/insane ways of showing her affection). They find a mutual haven somewhere in #12 GP and gradually find a haven with each other.*
The train to Hogwarts was stalled on the tracks, something large laid over it. Remus Lupin pushed the hair from his eyes as he squinted into the distance, trying to gauge the true size of whatever it was on the tracks. He sniffed the air, sorting through the various scents the breeze carried to him. He stepped back into his hiding place as a Prefect—Slytherin by the badge—ran down the corridor. Children, nothing but children, he thought as he renewed his Notice-Me Not charm. Soon, that will be all who can fight.
The train lurched forward, inching its way toward the bulk in front, and he spread his legs to absorb the shock. He could smell something foul, but dead, as the engine got closer. Two Aurors swooped down from the grey sky, wands flashing left and right as they manoeuvred the enigma away and into the forest nearby. Soon, he’d be jumping off into that same forest—just miles shy of Hogsmeade and Severus Snape. He grimaced in a silent snarl at the thought of the wizard who’d revealed him to the world. “Damned, ignorant Pureblooded arse!” he mentally cursed. “Never would listen to reason once he’d gotten an idea in that blockhead of his!” A faint howl seemed to reverberate through his head.
Remus’ better nature muttered in the back of his mind as he waited for his “stop” to appear. “Snape never had a chance to be anything but a victim and a reactionary…the Marauders made certain of that.” His inner voice sounded very much like Miss Granger—Harry’s know-it-all friend at her most portentous—and his lips twisted at the truth of it all. He mechanically wrapped his cloak around him as he felt the vibration of the tracks alter and the locomotive changed grade, sticking his portmanteau to his stomach with a charm. Shaking thoughts of Severus Snape from his mind, he jumped. As he hit the slope, he activated his Port-key and began his own stint as a spy.
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Breathing hard, Severus Snape tried to quell the tremors snaking across his skin. Bellatrix Lestrange had given him a saucy wink and sidled close enough for him to smell the last meal she’d eaten, and he’d almost swallowed his tongue at her nearness. Her mad eyes had glistened eerily from under her lashes as she’d stroked the back of his hand with her cracked nails and waited for his notice. Oh, Merlin, kill me now, he silently begged any deity looking in on him. “I never, never, never want her to touch me again!” he breathed out in gasps.
His mind replayed the encounter in grotesque detail: “My pardon, Madame Lestrange,” he’d drawled. Snape’s eyes had glittered as he looking down into hers, his Occlumency shields firmly in place. “The Dark Lord has requested my services. I must leave now or face his…discipline.” He’d stepped back, far enough away to clear the stench of her from his nostrils with one deep breath. Severus had turned, robes flaring out dramatically as he strode in any direction but hers.
“But, Snapesy…I want you, wittle Snape!” she’d called. The hairs on the back of his neck had risen at the cloying tone of voice and he’d walked faster. “When the Dark Lord releases you, come to me!” Her shout had echoed around him, speeding him even more on his escape.
Snape’s skin had stopped trying to crawl off his body as he caught his breath. He leaned back, berating Albus Dumbledore as he always did in times of stress. Interfering busybody! Manipulative arse! Potter’s beard! He chuckled to himself at the thought of the Headmaster as anyone’s beard, especially since he was the finest conniver of them all. Humour and sense restored, the spy made certain he was alone and continued on his way out of the current base of Death Eater operations.
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Days later, in the kitchens of No. 12 Grimmauld Place, Harry Potter stuck his wand into Severus’ face, demanding to know what he’d done to Remus. “I know you hate him!” he cried, the wand narrowly missing gouging out Snape’s left eye. “He was supposed to come for me this summer! You chased him away, didn’t you?” He jabbed his wand forward and scraped a long line across Snape’s left temple; the older wizard didn’t flinch.
Potter’s eyes widened at the sight of the thin line of blood and he stumbled to a chair, his wand clattering to the floor. “Sorry…so sorry…just worried…” the boy sobbed into his hands.
Summoning Harry’s wand and tucking it up his sleeve, Severus pinched the bridge of his nose. First, Bellatrix Lestrange was making eyes at him and now Potter’s whelp was having a nervous breakdown…whatever could go wrong next? He should have known just by asking it would come….
“Wotcher, Snape. Wotcher, Harry!” The voice was young, high and light. The clatter of shoes and an oof let him know Nymphadora Tonks had entered the room. “What have you done to him, Snape?” Her wand was in her hand and suddenly, she wasn’t a buffoon now but a true Auror. She ruined the image by stepping back onto her cloak and nearly strangling herself.
Sighing at the thought this was the best the Light Side could manage, Snape turned slowly, hands at his side. “I’m here for the Order meeting, foolish child. Put that away unless you mean to use it.” He crossed his arms and looked down his prominent nose, pleased when Tonks put up her wand with a moue of distaste. “Sit down, comfort Potter in whatever distress he imagines himself entangled, and leave me be until the adults have arrived.” He swept out of the room with a glare that encompassed the two children. The blood had sluggishly flowed into a thin line half-way down Snape’s face, adding to the look.
“I just know…know he knows where Rem-Remus is,” Harry hiccupped. Severus stood outside the kitchen door, smiling at the thought the damned werewolf had run away. Then, another thought occurred to him and the smile disappeared.
“Oh, I’m sure, Harry. The Greasy Bat of the Dungeons knows more than you or I.” Snape ground his teeth at the title even as he heard a chair scrape along the floor; the chit was most likely giving Potter a shoulder to cry upon. “I’m worried about Remus, too. I want to see him in the worst way.”
Severus thought on the last words Tonks had said before he turned down the hall and into the Library. He sat down in an overstuffed chair and put his feet up on an ottoman. Huh, that child fancies herself in love with the beast?! He tugged at his bottom lip as he pondered this new wrinkle. She’ll ruin everything in her infantile way!
He folded his fingers over and leaned his chin on them, his bottom lip sticking out as he let himself review the werewolf’s so-called charms: He was male. (Yes, that was obvious.) He was older. (The better to be tripped by the idiot Auror.) He was powerful in his own dark way. (The beast knew spells Severus would have killed to learn.) He was well-formed. (Well, yes, he was! And that arse….)
“Severus?” Molly Weasley’s strident shout shook him out of his reverie. “Snape! We’re ready for you!” He caught sight of himself in the hallway mirror as he exited the Library. A swish and a flick and his face was once more its whole, sallow self.
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When Remus Lupin strolled into the werewolf camp, he’d been carefully neutral. He’d kept his hands visible and his eyes down, and his satchel hidden in the woods. A young boy, so new to being a werewolf that the bite marks were still red and irritated, had toddled up to him, little fist almost shoved into his mouth. Remus’ heart had stuttered to a stop; he was in Fenrir Greyback’s camp! How?
“Stop!” A woman, horribly scarred down one side of her face, pushed gawkers aside to stand in front of the boy before scooping him up and against her side. His young eyes never blinked as they watched Lupin straighten up. “You don’t belong!” she shouted. “Leave, leave now!” She pointed back the way he’d come.
“Sorry, can’t. You see, my name is Remus Lupin, and I too am a werewolf.”
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Giving his report to the Order of the Phoenix—and not hexing anyone named Potter as they glared at him—had given Severus a blazing headache. There’d been nothing about the werewolf, and Tonks’ cheeks had turned grey when Albus had refused to tell her anything. When the others had dispersed and the young Auror had dragged Harry with her somewhere in the house, Snape approached his mentor.
“You sent him to the werewolves, didn’t you?” he asked quietly. As always, he had already cast a strong Silencio—they wouldn’t be overheard. He looked deep into Dumbledore’s tired eyes. “Why? He’s one of your favourites.” The shadow of his youth lent a bitter edge to his words.
Sighing, the Headmaster pulled out a chair and sat back down. “He wanted to do something, anything, Severus.” He reached out to pat Severus’ hand and then stopped, the cold look on Snape’s face stilling his hand. Albus cleared his throat and returned his hand to his lap. “He misses Sirius. He feels he let Harry down.” He saw the closed look come over Snape’s face and continued. “Well, he’s an expert in the Defense Against the Dark Arts! How could I turn down someone with his knowledge?”
“Quite easily, Headmaster,” Severus said as he stood up abruptly. He looked down and saw that Dumbledore was just an old wizard after all. “He’s an anchor for the boy. You should have left him here to teach the boy, coddle him, if nothing else.” He turned and walked out the door, his heart beating hard as he realized he’d just defended the beast that had almost killed him twice!
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The werewolves were a fractured group, recruited by Greyback but not his. Remus had had to fight for his place as one of them and the rush of…freedom…when he let the wolf inside see daylight…. He drew back his lips in a feral grin that was becoming more natural, his canines slightly longer than before. He’d drawn blood before, but never of another were. He wasn’t the Alpha, but he had carved a niche for himself in their number.
Lupin heard the pop of Apparition nearby and caught a fizz of magic on the wind. Hunkering down behind a shrub, he sat on his heels and waited to see who was coming. A large Death Eater lumbered through the forest. He was heading toward the Alpha’s tent. Settling in, Remus waited for him to pass and then several more minutes before getting up and doing what he’d come to do: spy for Dumbledore.