RETROFEST ENTRY Title: THE ADDICTION 08/14 Rating: NC-17 Author:countesszero Beta:schemingreader Pairings: SS/ES, SS/RL, SS/SB, RL/NT Genre: AU, Drama, Tragedy, Romance, Friendship, Hurt/Comfort Challenge: Retrofest 2009 Prompt No. 05 Canon: Compliant with PS, CoS and 90% PoA compliant. Wordcount: Approximately 4100 words
Summary: When Harry, Hermione, Ron stun Severus in the Shrieking Shack, they don't know there is a Sleeping Beauty Spell on the bed already. It interacts and Snape wakes up a woman. Remus who already is attracted to Snape finds this even more intriguing and begins to woo Snape.
Warnings: Incest, Heterosexual sex, (Child) Abuse, Drug abuse, Alcoholism, Mental illness, Non consensual sex, Sex with dubious consent, Gender switch, Attempted suicide, Character death (no main character)
A/N: At this point I would like to express my gratitude to schemingreader who has despite her very busy life supported me greatly in my first attempt of writing fanfiction.
Disclaimer: Severus Snape, Remus Lupin and all associated characters from the Harry Potter universe are the property of J.K. Rowling. The author is making no profit by this story.
The summer was approaching rapidly and the atmosphere in the castle grew tense with the approaching end of year exams. There was also the general albeit suppressed sense of elation, the anticipation of the long, idle summer months. All students including the Annoying Three were preparing to leave while many of them were studying for their exams. From the staff only he and a few teachers - this year Sprout, Binns of course and Filch - would remain.
Dumbledore was busily planning the Triwizard Tournament and spent most of the time abroad with the headmasters of Durmstrang and Beauxbatons to discuss the details of the event and the necessary security measures.
Lupin's initial cheerfulness that had lightened up the beginning of their affair (if one could call this situation an affair) had over the last week given way to a polite evasiveness. Every time he met with Lupin now it felt like the last time. Every time he told himself that if there would be a next time he would go through with it and give the man what he apparently needed so urgently.
If he would only close his eyes and take a deep breath and just do it, Lupin would be his.
And strangely enough his reluctance didn't have anything to do with Lupin. He did desire Lupin, more than the other was aware of. Whenever he looked at Lupin's face something fierce gripped his heart and it was like a maelstrom, taking him down and down and down. In Lupin's presence he wanted to fall into him, let himself go - as Lupin told him constantly to do - but then the voices returned. With the transformation all the memories he had kept at bay for so many years had found a way back into his mind and now they didn't leave him alone anymore.
Sometimes he realized he was drowning. Severus Snape, the man he had been for so many years had gone, and inside his new body was someone different, a stranger with mad, wild eyes.
Then he had to push Lupin's hands away, and do something else, take his cock in his mouth (which he actually liked to do because he could watch Lupin loosing control and for a few precious moments Lupin belonged absolutely to him) or satisfy him with his hand and Lupin never objected anymore, patient and polite as he was, even thanking him afterward but Severus knew that it wouldn't be enough, not in the long run, that his time was running out.
Lupin was yet to tell him what his intentions for summer were although he had asked and prodded already. And the more time passed without Lupin, who seemed indecisive and anxious, telling him, the more Severus was lost in a silent panic.
After that idiotic Order meeting incident Lupin seemed to keep his distance and it drove Severus mad. He needed to know, he needed to be with Lupin, he needed Lupin to tell him that everything was alright and he longed for that desire and want in Lupin's eyes, although he was also afraid of it.
Lupin still stopped by to talk to him in the Great Hall, as if he didn't dare to do otherwise, but he didn't touch him anymore.
Lupin was leaving him for the Tonks girl who would spread her legs for anyone. She would take him away and he would be left with nothing, like before, but now he couldn't bear it. He couldn't bear losing Lupin, it would kill him.
It would kill him.
When he was alone in his dungeons he could not find peace anymore. He was pacing, twitching and cursing and muttering. Eileen and other ghosts, they filled his head with their inane babbling. He had to take the potion constantly now to silence them but he thought once the intercourse would have been done and over with and Lupin would be his he could concentrate on getting well again.
Time had become a volatile, unpredictable element. The ticking of the grandfather clock he kept in the living room had stopped being a reliable, evenly spaced out measurement. Minutes slowed down to hours, and sometimes hours flew by in mere moments, gone in the blink of an eye.
Once he had woken up in his armchair, with one of his Slytherin Third Years knocking politely at his door to tell him that his class was waiting for him.
Another time he came to himself in the middle of class - unfortunately with the Gryffindors and the Slytherins - and for almost five minutes he was unable to explain to himself how he had gotten there and what he had been doing. Again, another Slytherin student gently reminded him of the potion he had been obviously talking about. Severus, concealing his relief behind his usual sneer, had picked it up from there and continued to dictate. The children had exchanged uneasy glances but he had ignored them. When he checked their scrolls he realized that he had dictated them the same text twice.
And then again another time he woke up lying on his side curled into a ball on the rug of his living room, in front of the floo.
The potions helped for a while but he developed a tolerance and he had to spike them a little now. He was good at improving lacking formulas but he had to purchase the illegal ingredients in the darker alleys of London, away from Poppys prying eyes.
When he took his vial the world pieced itself together again and he could at least get up and face life outside his rooms, talk to students, to his colleagues, to Dumbledore and do whatever he was asked to do, following the orders he was given like the puppet on strings he was.
But more than that: on good days the draught gave him back a sense of hope for himself, and for a moment or two he could believe that somehow everything would right itself again. There were still brief moments where he thought it entirely possible that he too, could be happy, could for once have the things he wanted,. And he wanted Lupin, and nothing else. And surely that was not asked too much, was it? Surely life could give him that.
These days the draught wore off too quickly. Often he sank onto his knees, trembling and shaking and his black robes pulled him into the depths of an ice cold ocean, becoming heavier and heavier, black water engulfing him but he was too paralyzed with the agony of withdrawal to move. With unblinking eyes he watched himself struggling against the waves, fighting and eventually surrendering, sinking, drowning into the black sea while his fingers were scratching the cold stone floor in an useless, twitching motion. All he could do was just lie there, motionless, barely blinking, waiting until he had at least the strength to reach into his robes to curl his fingers around another vial.
Lupin didn't show up for a whole week. He taught his classes, but nobody had seen him in the Great Hall during the meals. First Severus hid his concern, and pretended not to notice the uneasy glances of his colleagues. When he firecalled Lupin's quarters he found that the floo was closed. On Thursday evening he went to Lupin's quarters to find them deserted.
Severus sent owls. He called Grimmauld Place. He even went up and asked Dumbledore in his office, who stared at him over the rim of his glasses with barely concealed shock at Severus' desperate state.
It can't end like this, not like this.
His hands were shaking so he hid them in his robes.
Of course Dumbledore didn't tell him anything, - instead he said, that if Lupin had neglected to inform Severus of his whereabouts, he obviously had done so intentionally. Then he got up, rounded his desk and was at Severus side faster than he could escape.
He peered at Severus closely and he knew what the old man was thinking: That only a few months ago, Severus would have never allowed himself to fall into his emotions. To let himself devoured by his affection to actually go to the headmaster's office and ask about Lupin like a lovesick child.
But he couldn't help himself any longer. Every minute without Lupin drove him further into madness. He couldn't stand it any longer. He had to know.
Before the headmaster could say something he stormed out of the office.
He paced his rooms, restless. Sometimes he pressed his forehead against one of the cool walls, mumbling. Someone was at his side, looking at him with a curious mixture of contempt and pity, but when he swirled around, wand in his hand and ready, the shadow had gone, and only the emptiness of his own room answered him.
Once Lupin looked up at him from the arm chair and smiled sweetly, but when Severus stepped closer, to touch him, he had also gone.
Was it too late now?
Whatever it was they had had - was that gone, too? Was the dance they had danced around each other the last couple of weeks, finished? Was he sent away and replaced by that young auror?
Suddenly a strange calmness came over him.
No, it wasn't, he told himself. Lupin had turned away from him but there was still something he could do.
Slowly he walked into his bedroom. He unbuttoned his robes and his shirt and let his garments fall to the floor until he was standing completely naked in front of the mirror.
He touched his nipples, his belly, the black triangle between his legs. Then he nodded to himself, as in silent encouragement, like a general might nod to his soldiers, before the battle.
He washed himself while looking at himself in the bathroom mirror, taking care not to avoid his chest nor his genitalia.
He walked to his closet and dressed in his finest silk robes. In the bath room he washed his face and put the perfume on Lupin had once bought him on a whim during his strolls through Diagon Alley, a heavy oriental scent that Severus disliked but Lupin seemed to love. It would help to mask any betraying scents of fear.
God, was he pale. Scrawny, thin and old. Not as young and nubile as Tonks. He bit his lips and pinched his cheeks to get some color in them.
Inside him a panicked voice kept saying over and over: What are you doing, what the hell are you doing? Stop this at once.
But Severus knew that there was no turning back now and he silenced the voice with a vial.
He combed his hair. The silk robe clung to his body but the fabric made him appear softer, curvier than he was. He did not bind his chest. He conjured a blood red paste, and dabbed a tiny bit onto his lips and smudged on his cheeks. Maybe he didn't look much betterĀ - or feminine - but the point of putting color on one's face was to indicate sexual arousal. It would also aid his goal when he did not look like a corpse. It would have to suffice.
He took a last cautious look at his mirror, then wrapped himself into a dark velvet cloak and left the rooms.
When he arrived at Grimmauld Place the night around him was silent. The windows were dark. He opened the doors and stopped himself from calling out Lupin's name. Black was here, too, somewhere in the depths of this horrible house. Instead he walked silently through the narrow dusty hallways, holding his wand in front of him.
"Lumos." he whispered, and the house answered, as it always did, in a hostile, hatefilled hissing, the portraits beginning to stir. He moved through one room after the other, the salon, the library, the drawing room, noticing the magic of silencing spells and effortlessly disabling them. He passed the living room where he could see the closed fireplace, but Lupin's clothing was lying in a messy pile on the floor. So he was here but had refused to talk to him. Now faint sounds could be heard, still muffled by the walls and the distance. From somewhere he heard the creaking of a floorboard, the sound of a bed coil.
Then he saw the room, at the end of the hallway, Lupin's tiny room, far away from Black's room, which was altogether on a different floor, and there was unmistakably a thin line of light under that door. "Alohomora." he whispered and the door - unwarded and unlocked - flew open, and he saw Tonks naked on a bed, her breasts gleaming with sweat and her eyes closed in bliss. She was riding up and down on Lupin's cock, facing the door, and Lupin's hands were on her hips and both of them were panting and ... then Tonks opened her eyes in a languid slow movement, ... and then everything went quite fast: Tonks scrambled off Lupin with a murmured curse, and Lupin saw Severus and he jumped out of bed, pulling on his trousers, and Tonks threw herself practically into her auror robe and left the room wordlessly, pushing Severus roughly aside.
Severus noted that her manner was not even in the slightest apologetic.
Oh God, I knew it, I knew it, I knew it. his mind repeated stupidly.
Lupin was buttoning his trousers. Even from a distance he reeked of sex. Of cunt and semen and sweat. He was sitting on his bed and looking at him.
"What are you doing here?" he asked very calmly, and Severus couldn't believe him. That was the first thing he said, after being caught? Had he no shame at all?
"Oh come on." Lupin said angrily, and only then did Severus notice the empty wine and beer bottles on the floor and on the nightstand. So he was drunk."It's not as if I was unfaithful to you. You are not my wife because if you were my wife I could hold the non fulfillment of your marital duties against you."
Severus was horrified. His fingers gripped his wand tightly. He was shaking all over with rage but Lupin didn't stop talking.
"We've been playing this game long enough now, haven't we?" Lupin reached for something on the nightstand and lit up a cigarette."You can't have forgotten that quickly what it's like to be a man. To have the desires of a man."
Enough, it was enough. He would not let himself be insulted like this, and he would not sink as low as to actually respond to this. He needed to get away, back home and get out of his ridiculous ... attire, and maybe if he could have one or two, maybe three drops of his medicine he would be able to think more clearly. All this would be distant. Now everything was a terrible mess in his head, a flood of unwanted images, and taunting voices, and his heart was pounding so loud and, oh God, it was so heavy and aching. It hurt so much.
Severus gathered his robes and turned around and left the room, walking down the hallway not bothering with stealth anymore.
Suddenly he found himself pinned against the wall. Lupin, still half naked, held his wrists.
"Tell me," he snarled."Did you ever intend to let me fuck you? Or were you happy just teasing me with your skilled mouth?"
"Stop. Talking. To. Me." demanded Severus shaking his head. Was this Lupin? His Lupin? He didn't know this brazen, cold stranger.
"Oh, but we talk, finally, we talk. Let's talk, Snape. Let's talk about this. Or are you sensitive, dear? Do I hurt your feelings? Affect your modesty? I shan't say those offending words anymore then shall I? What about making sweet love then?" And he ground his hips into Severus. He took Severus wrist and licked it, where the blue veins were visible through the thin skin. And Severus looked at him, wide eyed as if he saw Lupin for the first time. And in a way he did. His lips parted slightly. His wrist was burning, and only then Lupin realized ... he squinted.
"Snape! You do look pretty tonight." he said falling back into his usual gentle manner, but with such mockery that it cut Severus heart. "Tell me, did you come looking for me to offer yourself to me? Was I finally worthy of that gift?" He moved closer to Severus. Severus looked away, unable to free himself. He sniffed at Severus neck and leered.
"Ah, the perfume. It suits you. But don't cheapen yourself. Don't play these games, not with me, your pet wolf. Is it revenge? You always liked revenge. Your favorite dish."
Lupin kissed Severus neck and his hand slipped between the robes, not roughly, but not tenderly either. With the tip of his fingers he pressed his nipple.
"I want you. I want you to want me." Lupin said into the smooth skin above Severus collarbone. "I don't want your sacrifice. I want your desire."
And Severus felt it - felt Lupin's excitement, his greed and hunger and he felt this greed poisoning him, and leaking into his core, he felt his own arousal, but he also felt so sad. Something hurt so much, what was it? The pain was constricting his chest. Why was it so hard to breathe, to swallow? How was it even possible to feel both of these things at the same time? Sadness and desire. Did it feel like this when one's heart was breaking?
He was breathing heavily now, and Lupin was still stroking his hardened nipple.
"Tell me, how does that feel?" Lupin whispered.
Snape turned his head away, but Lupin bit the exposed flesh of his neck and started sucking. "When I touch you here," and he pinched Severus nipple, "does it feel good?"
Severus opened his mouth in a silent gasp but didn't respond.
"Come on, tell me." Lupin urged. His voice was thick with desire. "Do you like it?"
He bent down and took it into his mouth. He sucked. Lupin's tongue touched him.
Oh.
Severus bit his lips.
"Then say it. Come on. I know you like it. I can smell your desire."
"I ... " Severus closed his eyes, in agony. "Please stop." he finally gasped.
Lupin did stop. Abruptly he let go of Severus and Severus knees gave in and he slid down the wall.
Lupin looked down on him, with an unreadable expression in his face. He shook his head and said:
"I don't know what I feel for you, but I don't want to hurt you."
He paused and then kneeled beside Severus who stared into nothingness, his face suddenly slack and void of any expression.
"I do not understand you. Help me to understand."
Severus said nothing, merely continued to stare ahead.
"Stop lying to me." said Lupin very softly.
Severus finally gained control over his body and managed to shake his head.
"You don't know anything about me. Leave me alone. Go back to your slut." he said, keeping his tone as neutral as possible.
Lupin got up and went back to his room.
Severus remained leaning on the wall. When he got up and turned to leave he thought he could hear Black snickering, somewhere far away in that wretched house.
When his mother became too weak to walk and had to stay in bed Severus wrote a letter to his father. The letter returned unopened - with a stamp from the post office - addressee unknown - and that was it.
Eileen never inquired about him.
First Severus moved into her bedroom to be able to take better care of her. Very often he had to get up in the night and give her a painkilling potion, a massage, or change the bedsheets when she had soiled herself. The room reeked of alcohol no matter how often he aired it or performed a cleaning spell. He had vainly hoped that once she was bedridden he could ween her off the alcohol but in the following torturous hours and days he came to understand the futility of his undertaking.
When she suffered a full blown epileptic seizure after hours of hallucinating and speaking to her absent husband he decided to ignore her wishes and take her to St. Mungos.
The healers at St. Mungo's immediately began her detoxification and for a week she remained in intensive care, heavily sedated and unconscious most of the time. During this period he visited daily but was not allowed to see her.
Then after eight days he was finally admitted. She was transferred to her own little room that he had paid for with Lucius Malfoy's money.
Her legs were white and swollen, full of water. She had red, spidery blotches on her torso. Her once sharp and bony face was bloated.
The trainees and nurses were relieved because he helped them with her care, but also slightly disturbed by the closeness between them. He ignored their nervous glances when he washed her naked body and she dreamily tugged at his sleeve, demanding a kiss on her mouth and he complied or when he brushed her thinning, gray hair.
She would not recover, he was told by the mediwitch. Her liver was beyond repair, the cirrhosis was too far advanced, her heart too damaged.
The mediwitch asked nosy questions about Eileen's alcoholism and asked him if he was drinking. Alone for this intrusion she deserved to lose her license but he answered.
"I don't drink." he said. Which was true. He didn't drink alcohol.
He didn't mind as much as he thought he would. He had anticipated this end for a long time. He had been waiting for her death all his life, and he had been watching her slowly dying all along, as long as he could think of.
Every day he read to her, in the mornings the Daily Prophet, and to amuse her the Quibbler. She talked a lot, mainly about the articles Severus read to her at breakfast. After lunch - she could only have watery, thin soup, pureed vegetables and mild herbal teas - she slept or played cards with him or asked Severus to read one of her sappy romance novels to her. She was on anticraving potions, that helped to reduce her craving for alcohol, and sedative potions that helped with the withdrawal symptoms, like tremor and dementia. He administered the sedative potions after each breakfast, five drops a day but it slowed her speech down and made her drowsy, and sometimes Severus had to lean close to her to understand her.
Apart from mild hallucinations - she sometimes forgot his age and talked to him as he was six years old - she remained quite lucid.
In the evenings he laid down beside her, careful to do so only after the lights went out and the nurse had finished her check up and had left not only the room but the wing. She could not sleep otherwise.
He wrapped her in his arms and hummed to her until she fell asleep, then he rose and went over to his own bed.
One evening he fell asleep holding her in his arms and only managed to scramble out of the bed moments before the morning nurse appeared.
The nurse, a young man who had just graduated from a Swiss school, noticed of course the untouched sheets on Severus' bed, and with thin lips performed his check-up spell and gave Eileen her potions.
One afternoon she woke from a light slumber. He himself had also fallen asleep beside her bedside and was startled to find her in tears.
"Forgive me." she sobbed. "Forgive me. I will go to hell for what I have done to you."
He opened his mouth to soothe her. With sudden contempt he noticed that Eileen who had always scorned the catholicism of her husband was scared of hell.
"We are already in hell, mother." he heard himself say. "Don't ask me for forgiveness. I don't know anything about it."
Strangely that calmed her down. She took his hand and laced her fingers between his. He reached out with his other hand and stroked her paper thin, soft cheek.
"As always you are right, my beautiful, clever son." she said and beamed at him through her tears as if he had solved a difficult equation.
For a long while they said nothing.
"Shall I read to you once more?" he finally asked.
She nodded.
He took the novel he had been reading to her before, one of her favorite romance novels and continued reading, and Eileen closed her eyes, crying silently.
But in her final days between helping the nurses with their duties and feeding her, tending to her needs, reading to her while watching her fade away he somehow found the strength to make peace with her.