RETRO FEST FIC: Recovery Position, NC-17, 12/12
Title: “Recovery Position” Author: undun Rating: NC-17 Pairing(s): Severus/Remus, Severus/other Challenge: lupin_snape Retrofest Summary: Retro Fest Prompt 44. OotP era- "Moony, you alright? I heard you groaning and--CHRIST! Shit, Moony, sorry, I didn't rea--wait...is that SNAPE?!" Disclaimer: This is a non-profit creative work and is not intended to infringe on any copyrights held by Harry Potter creator/s. This work constitutes transformative, non-profit use of copyrighted material. Warnings: Drug use in Chapter 2, self-medicating drunkenness, and general thick-headedness throughout.
Notes: I owe a huge debt of gratitude to some awesome betas, who have helped me whip this story into something coherent. Starting with Resonant about 4 years ago, and in recent weeks _lore (of awe-inspiring awesomeness); she very gently bullied me into finishing this story in time to submit for Retro Fest. You will notice the story is not the neatest fit for the prompt, but the opportunity to participate was too seductive! Last minute hand holding and critical appraisal was provided by psyfic, who I want to be like when I grow up. Any further furfies you see are my own and no one elses. A huge thank you to our Fest organiser, scribbulus_ink for this event!
Word count: About twenty-six and a half thousand all up.
12. “The Resurrection”
It is the Leaving Feast, and almost a year since Harry Potter arose from the dead. He has managed to complete the seventh year curriculum in six months, allowing him to matriculate with his peers. I look over the sparse collection of students left to represent 7th year Slytherin and feel my mouth turning down.
“Stop that,” a raspy voice commands me.
I look to my right to see Lupin’s exasperation. “It’s a celebration, not a funeral,” he adds in a softer voice. I do love that voice. My eyes drift down to his lips, once more draped with a ridiculous moustache, and I imagine them against mine.
“And you can stop that too,” he murmurs, shifting in his chair.
I smirk at the blush stealing up his neck; I can still make him blush after all this time. I show him some mercy and look back to a roomful of adolescents who imagine they are all… grown… up. To be fair, they are probably a damn sight more grown up than my own generation was at this age. My right hand drifts over to touch my left forearm in a sort of sick salute to the Severus-that-was. Lupin’s fingers trap mine and he strokes my hand. I look up and he smiles at me. It’s not a happy smile, but I cannot describe the wealth of feeling I perceive in it. My chest expands with my intake of air, my shoulders dip from their rigidly square position; he’s done it again. He is my stable object.
It is now time for maudlin speeches and I sit through the faculty’s twitterings with a sense of calm; possibly a first for me. Soon enough my own turn at the podium comes and I walk over with very little idea of what I am to say.
“I cannot say it has been a pleasure to teach you all,” I begin. The students – soon to be former students – find this quite hilarious, and amid the laughter I hear the word “mutual”. A smile comes unbidden to my face. This has the effect of quieting the mob. I dart a quick glance at Lupin; he is leaning back in his chair, legs crossed and a grin on his face.
“Nevertheless,” I continue, “You have all passed my senior class – some more successfully than others,” I send a pointed look at a couple of Hufflepuffs who had caused the use of more emergency containment spells than I am used to. They look down at their table and fidget. “And now you are to be released, unsupervised, into the world.”
There is a happy murmuring from the assembled throng. It resonates in the stone chamber; yes, this is the Great Hall. At last Hogwarts stands again; possibly the only reason I am still here. Perhaps there is another reason.
“I wish you all well in your future endeavours, but you should know,” I pause, considering my next words, “That you have already shown yourselves to possess honour, bravery and commitment.”
I have stunned them speechless. “A year ago you had a choice; to assist us to evacuate the younger students or to get yourselves to a safe place. You all stayed to help those more vulnerable than yourselves,” I state as I rest my eyes on the remaining Slytherins. Their posture straightens, making my mouth quirk at the corners. “All of you have demonstrated that you are ready to take part in the wizarding world as adults, not by any grades attained – and for some of you that is a boon – but by your conduct during the attack on this school.”
I sit down again next to Lupin. His lips are parted and he looks a little surprised. Gradually, the hall is filled with applause, and that surprises me. I look up at the increasing noise level to see that the students are beginning to stand, led by the irrepressible Mr. Potter, who is grinning like a lunatic. I nod my head slightly in his direction and he presses a hand to his chest in mock swoon, falling into Weasley’s arms. I snort and roll my eyes. There is entirely too much butter beer at this event.
*** *** ***
Later, I have my head on Lupin’s chest gathering air in heaving lungfuls while his fingers untangle my hair. Yes, this is the other reason I am still here, and likely to remain so for as long as Lupin is teaching at Hogwarts. Six months has wrought changes in me that I never would have imagined. I still teach in the dungeons – it is still the best environment for potions-making – but I now sleep in this eyrie; this lofty place of air and light and buffeting winds. Lupin’s quarters. Now, when I look in the mirror I see a man with crow’s feet at his eyes from squinting in the sun, and skin the colour of pale wood – not the sallow parchment pallor that it had been for twenty years.
I wrap my fingers around my wand and cast a cleaning spell over Lupin’s belly and chest; he’d made a mess of himself. “Thanks, Sev,” he murmurs, still dragging my hair into order. He looks serene and that makes me feel serene; I wonder if that makes me some sort of emotional symbiont.
A loud banging on Lupin’s main door disrupts our quiet interlude. I groan theatrically and roll off Lupin. He sighs just as dramatically and rises to drag on his robe, tugging his hands through the sleeves as he makes his way through the sitting room to the door.
“Moony! You’re still up, that’s great!”
It is the overgrown testicle, come to disturb our peace yet again. Joy. Black is like the unpopular relative that one inherits when one marries; he is part of Lupin’s life and I cannot escape semi-regular contact with him. I rub my hands over my face, cast another cleaning charm and start dressing. I shall give Lupin my support during this difficult time.
I haven’t been listening to the voices from the sitting room, so I am taken aback when I enter to see, not just Black, but Harry Potter and Neville Longbottom seated on the sofa, swigging from beer bottles.
“Severus!” Potter starts, nearly dropping his drink. “I didn’t know you were… erm,” his eyes flick to the door behind me, very obviously the bedroom door, and then flick to Remus’ bare feet. “Um, good to see you,” he finishes with an embarrassed smile.
Black, who has all the charisma and tact of a herd of charging erumpants, remarks, “Oh, Merlin’s panties! Have you two just been shagging? I’m going to need something stronger than this!” And so saying he throws his bottle up and fires a spell at it, causing a multi-coloured shower of sparkles to cascade over the room.
Lupin’s disapproving “Sirius!” is a bit half-hearted. I’m strangely thankful for the distraction. I move over to the remaining armchair and sit down. Lupin looks at me with a question in his eyes. I interpret it as “Shall I get rid of them?” I shrug and tilt my head slightly; non-verbal for “I don’t mind, your call.” He smiles slightly at me and leans towards Longbottom. “How’s your Gran these days, Neville?”
*** *** ***
It is an inordinate amount of time later and we are finally bidding farewell to our visitors. We may have a couple of hours left in which to sleep before the mass exodus of 7th year students begins. We stand watching Black, Potter and Longbottom lurch down the corridor. “Don’t fall on the stairs, Black,” I call out. Lupin pinches my bum. “Ow!”
Potter turns back, grinning in our direction, then shocks me by grabbing Neville Longbottom’s face in both his hands and kissing him soundly. At length. Right in front of me.
“What the ffff–”
Lupin pulls my arm and I find myself back in his sitting room with the door slamming after us. I stand in the middle of the room, and find myself glaring at him. “He’s fucking Neville Longbottom!”
“Yes, he is,” Lupin confirms quietly.
“Fucking Longbottom!” Although that sounds like I’m repeating myself, Lupin seems to interpret my meaning.
“Neville’s a good lad. He’s good for Harry; very dependable.”
“But… Longbottom, for Merlin’s sake, Remus!”
“Why is it a problem?”
“Because, bloody hell! Longbottom! After me?”
“Ah, now I see.”
“See what? How could he rebound from me to fucking Longbottom?” Yes, there is a more than slight whine in my voice. Fuck it. “I suppose you think me arrogant? Egostistical?” I sneer at Lupin.
“Oh, I know you are, Sev, no surprises there!”
I can’t believe he’s smiling at me, as if this is a joke. “So you honestly believe that Longbottom is an adequate replacement for me? That we are somehow interchangeable?”
“Goodness, no!” Lupin says, stepping up to stroke along my taut shoulders, “The point is that he isn’t anything like you. Harry has recognised that you two were never suited to each other, and Neville is his alternate choice. I think he has matured a lot over the past six months.”
“Fucking matured, my arse.” Yes, I’m being petty. A small part of me, must be that inconvenient conscience again, agrees with Lupin. Longbottom is nothing if not steady and dependable. But so, so boring!
Perhaps Potter has had enough excitement to last him for the time being. I sit down and tip my head back onto the cushions. “Potter and Longbottom,” I murmur, the vitriol seems to have expended itself.
Lupin flops down next to me, takes my hand in his. “I still think you’re a sexy bastard, Sev, and I wouldn’t shag Neville after you.”
The notion of Lupin and Longbottom in a lewd act together is enough to cause a laugh to wheeze out of me. Lupin joins in with a chuckle and before we know it we are both wiping tears off our cheeks. My earlier anger has disappeared, but more than that, it now seems wholly ridiculous. I take Lupin’s face in my hands, thumbs stroking away the last of his tearful laughter. I press my lips against his, pull some of that moustache with my teeth; flick my tongue against his mouth. He moans in the back of his throat and I dive into his mouth. Coming up for air we pant in each other’s faces.
“Take me to bed,” I whisper.
He rises, holding out his hand to me. I grip the stable object.
*** *** ***
Just before dawn I see Albus again.
“I’ve come to say farewell, my boy,” he says, his dim form seeming ever more translucent.
“You’re leaving now? Is everything alright?” I ask anxiously.
“Yes, Severus. Everything is as it should be now. My special boys are happy at last; you and Remus have found each other; Harry has found another; and Sirius… well, Sirius is happy in his own way,” Albus finishes, sounding a little less than convinced about Black. I certainly don’t care.
“Are you happy, Albus?”
“Do you know,” he glances around the room as if he is seeing something else entirely, “ I really believe I am, dear boy.”
“I’m glad for that, Albus – I’ve been worried about you,” I say with a sense of relief.
The headmaster’s form is drifting upwards as he says, “Worry no longer, Severus! I’m going to the next place now – all is well!”
Albus, I’ll miss you! His thready form drifts higher and, like smoke, swirls out of the open window.
“I’ll miss you!” I blink, the sun dazzling my eyes.
“I’m still here, Sev,” Lupin smiles at me from the edge of the bed where he is towelling his hair dry.
“So am I,” I state, a little dazed.
“Dumbledore again?”
“Yes, but he’s left. Really gone this time.”
“That’s good, isn’t it?”
I have talked to Lupin about my periodic visions of Albus. When they started I’d assumed they were drug-induced delusions, but I had gradually come to accept it as Albus communicating with me. It was only when the drug had cleared my system that I began to experience these visions in my sleep – how long had the morphine blocked him out? It’s a question I don’t like to dwell on.
“He’s content at last. He was waiting for Harry to find happiness,” I reply, snorting when I remember with whom Potter had found happiness. “He seemed a bit out of his depth with Black,” I add.
“What do you mean?”
“He said Black was happy in his own fashion.” I look at Lupin’s face.
“Heh, yeah. One day he’ll settle on one special barmaid,” Lupin rasps, looping the towel around his neck. I give his body a considered study in the morning light. Changes have occurred here too; a less weathered appearance and ribs no longer inclined to bruise against mine, courtesy of a year of regular meals and wolfsbane potion.
“He called us his ‘special boys’,” I say, reaching to snatch at the towel, dragging his head close. Lupin snickers.
“What?” I ask with a smile.
“’s what muggles call boys that are a bit slow on the uptake,” he says with a grin.
“Hmph! I suppose we have been a bit slow,” I say, pressing my lips to his. “I’m all for making up any delay I may have caused.”