red_day_dawning (red_day_dawning) wrote in red_day_fiction, @ 2008-04-03 04:31:00 |
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Entry tags: | author: red_day_dawning, fic: nc-17, memoria perdita, snape/lupin |
Fic: NC-17 "Memoria Perdita" - snape/lupin
Pairing: Snape/Lupin
Word count: ~7,750 overall
Rating: NC-17
Warning: m/m sex – oral & anal; erotic dreams; some angst
Disclaimer: JKR owns the copyrighted HP characters & settings
Summary: After being attacked with an unknown curse, Lupin has lost almost all memories from the past few years. What does this mean to those who have learned to love him? And can his memories be recovered?
Beta: Many thanks to multi-talented zephre for the brilliant beta-reading, & for the many excellent suggestions helping with structure & adverbs, content & completion. Thanks, zephre.
Author’s notes: For Remus Lupin’s birthday on March 10.
Dedicated to snapelike in appreciation of the wondrous stories I have so very much enjoyed.
Memoria Perdita – Part 1
I could not
Speak, and my eyes failed, I was neither
Living nor dead, and I knew nothing,
Looking into the heart of light, the silence.
- T. S. Eliot, 1888-1965
Prologue
It rained the day Remus Lupin was finally found and brought in to St Mungo’s Hospital. It rained as though it would never stop, as though the clouds were bleeding pain, and each raindrop contained a different story, each individual drop a distinct tale of sorrow and loss and pain. When Severus strode into the hospital foyer, his dark robes and long black hair were rain-drenched and dripping wet.
~*~
Lupin looked up at him, love glowing in his honey-gold eyes, and for the first time in his life, Severus felt compelled to say, “I love you. Gods, Remus, how I love you,” – and even though he did not speak, could not say the words, Remus knew. Remus knew and he smiled at him, and Severus thought his heart might burst, or break, or crack open, when Remus said, “I love you, too, Severus.”
~*~
Part 1
“How severe is the damage?” Harry asked, biting his lips.
Minerva sighed, and replied, not meeting his eyes, “The healers can’t be certain as yet, until they have conducted a thorough examination.”
Tonks began crying again, and Hermione looked grimmer than before. Snape sat silently, his face expressionless, as still as carved stone.
“He’ll be alright,” Harry said uncertainly. No-one replied.
The healers were cautiously optimistic. Iodan McMillan, the head of the spell-damage department declared, “While there is considerable memory loss, there is some hope that the memories will return, gradually, over time. As his body heals, his mind may start to recover.”
“Is there nothing you can do to directly help him regain his memories?” asked Minerva.
“We cannot proceed with direct medical intervention without a greater knowledge of the curses used,” Healer McMillan declared. “We could do more damage than good, if we tried to intervene in ignorance.”
“How much memory is actually lost?” asked Hermione.
Healer McMillan frowned, as though he found the question impertinent. Hermione simply continued to stare at him, as though certain he would respond. He frowned, and then sighed, “The patient’s recall of events is somewhat inconsistent. Mr. Lupin’s strongest clear memories date back to the time he was teaching at Hogwarts, and perhaps some months after that. His earlier memories have been retained. No later memories have survived intact.”
The group received this news in shocked silence. Minerva murmured, sorrow etched on her tired features, “Ah no. So much lost. The poor boy.”
Tonks sobbed, “That can’t be right. Let me talk to him. He’ll remember me.”
Hermione patted her absently on the shoulder while addressing the healer, “I take it you don’t believe we should try to force the memories to return, Healer McMillan?”
“Yes. That is correct. In order for the patient to retain his existing mental faculties, he must not be upset and his memory recall must not be forced. Any misguided attempt to force memory recall could bring about permanent damage. No-one should attempt to force him to remember anything. During all visits, the topics of conversation should be general and as undemanding as possible. While I realize that may not always be possible, especially when discussing the events of the late war, and the defeat of the Death Eaters,” the healer said, averting his eyes away from Snape, “I must insist the patient not be unduly and unnecessarily upset. If necessary, I will enforce this with limitations on visits. I cannot stress highly enough, no attempt to force memory should be made. Any attempt to do so may cause irreparable damage.” The healer nodded pompously, making eye contact with each of them, as though stressing the importance of his instructions. Only Severus was spared; the healer did not look directly at him at all.
They were allowed in to visit Remus in groups of two and three. A tearful Tonks entered the room first, clutching Harry and Hermione.
Severus waited outside the room with Minerva. His mind was racing – swinging between the thoughts: how can I help restore his memories and he has forgotten all. All memory of the two of them together, gone…
Visibly distressed and unable to remain silent any longer, Minerva asked, “Severus? What are you thinking? Is there a potion you can make that could help him?”
“Perhaps,” he slowly said. “I cannot be certain – without knowing the curses involved. It is possible that any potion might do as much harm as good. Still, over the next few days, we may learn more of his condition. Anything we learn would be useful for planning a remedy.” He sighed, and then rested his head in his hands. “I cannot be optimistic, Minerva. It may be that I will not be able to help.”
Minerva nodded, placing her hand on his arm. “I’m sure that you will do all you can to help, Severus. And I have great confidence in your skills – you are one of the greatest Potions masters alive.”
Severus replied, “I will do all that I can.”
Hearing raised voices from the patient’s room, Severus quickly slipped inside, Minerva following behind.
“Stop it, you silly girl,” Severus snapped, taking in the scene before him – Harry and Hermione standing shocked and motionless, Remus visibly shaking, sweat appearing on his pale face, Tonks grasping him by the arms and screeching, “You must remember – you’re just not trying! We’re about to get married! You must remember that!”
“I’m sorry, Tonks, but I don’t remember.” Briefly meeting Severus’s eyes, he added, “I don’t want to be cruel, Tonks, but I can’t remember, and I can’t even imagine it. I’m almost exclusively gay – I’ve never really wanted to be with a woman.”
“You wanted me,” screeched Tonks, now shaking Remus. “You did want me, and we’re going to be married…!”
Severus stepped forward and slapped Tonks across the face. “Pull yourself together, you stupid fool. Remus is in no condition for your hysterical outbursts. If you cannot control yourself, leave!”
Cradling her hand to her reddened cheek, Tonks fled the room sobbing.
“Oh, dear, I’d better go after her,” Hermione sighed.
“No, Hermione, it had better be me,” said Minerva. “I think I will be quicker to administer the required slap across the face than you – although I’m certain there was no need to hit her as hard as you did, Severus.”
“Would you have preferred to let her continue her melodramatic outburst?” Severus asked acidly.
“Perhaps not,” Minerva replied. Leaning forward to kiss Remus on the cheek, she added “I’ll come back for a proper visit soon, Remus. Get well soon,” she said, already stepping out of the door in pursuit of Tonks.
Remus rubbed his hand across his face. “Should I thank you for coming to my rescue, Severus?” he asked, smiling his familiar quirky, crooked grin.
Severus snorted in response, “Some dark creature and war-hero you are, Lupin, you can’t even stand up for yourself when confronted with a crying girl.”
Harry glared at Snape, but Lupin smiled, “It is because she’s a crying girl that I can’t stand up for myself, Severus.” And then looking at Severus, he asked, “Is it true… was I really engaged to her? I don’t see how it’s possible…”
Severus felt the words stick in his throat, he would have given anything to be able to say, “No Remus, it’s not true – you’re mine and I’m yours, and we belong together.” But Severus had never said those things, and wasn’t about to start now, facing an anxious and amnesiac werewolf.
Hermione interjected (about time Miss Know-it-all interrupted, Severus thought sourly) taking Lupin’s hand, as though breaking the worst news (and really that was wholly appropriate, Severus thought) and saying, “Yes, Remus, it is true. You and Tonks became engaged after…” Glancing at Severus, she added, “Well, after the Order had received some bad news.”
“Bad news?” enquired Remus.
The healers burst into the room, both talking excitedly. Healer McMillan glared at them all, saying “Didn’t I say he wasn’t to be upset? I was half-way across the hospital, and I felt the alarm charms triggered. He is no condition to be upset. I won’t have it! I will ban all future visits if I must!”
“It wasn’t us,” protested Harry. “It was Tonks, well, she was really upset when Remus didn’t remember her.”
“Well then, Miss Tonks is banned from all further visits. I’ll instruct the front desk that she is not to enter this room, regardless of the reason. I will not have my patient suffering set-backs!”
Remus looked as though he might protest, and then quickly reconsidered, shutting his mouth with an almost audible snap.
“That would be best,” Severus smoothly intervened. “Clearly, Miss Tonks is far too emotional to behave appropriately.”
Both Hermione and Remus looked sharply at him then, but mercifully said nothing.
The healer huffed an irritated agreement, and then preemptively waved the others out of the room, saying “Let the patient rest now.”
Remus grumbled, “The patient has a name, Healer McMillan.” He then turned to his visitors, asking “You will come back soon, won’t you? There’s so much I don’t know.” Harry and Hermione hastily agreed they would return the next day.
Severus tried to smoothly move through the doorway, but Remus called him back, reaching out one hand, “Severus, I don’t quite understand why you came today, but I appreciate it. Will you come back again?”
Without thought, Severus took the outreached hand, and then realizing what he had done, abruptly dropped it. “I came because Minerva asked for my expertise with curses and remedial potions. Of course I shall return - we know little about your symptoms at this point, so I shall need to observe you closely if I am to manufacture a remedy,” and he strode from the room without looking back.
His heart pounding painfully in his chest, he ignored Harry and Hermione’s inane chatter, to make his way to the exit, not thinking of the look Remus gave him when he reached out his hand. And not thinking of the look Remus gave him when he dropped it. Damn that werewolf for forgetting, he thought, and then, damn that werewolf – I think he remembers something.
~*~
Severus woke up immediately, that strange sense that alerts one to watching eyes acting as an alarm. He opened his eyes to see Remus gazing at him, amber eyes glowing gold, firelight transforming his scars to silvery runes, an entire tale Severus had deciphered with his fingers, mouth and tongue.
“What?”
“Nothing… just watching you,” Remus murmured, sliding down to cover his
body with his own.
The feel of Remus’s body against his made his breath catch, his heart race, made him instantly, achingly hard.
~*~
Severus woke, still panting, his night-clothes soaked in sweat and semen. Ignoring the prickling sting in his eyes, he spelled himself clean, and then rose out of the bed. Disregarding the cold that seemed to fill his chest, he selected some books likely to contain information on old, obscure curses, and settled down to read, unwilling to return to sleep that night.
~*~
There was a hell created just for me, Severus grumbled to himself sourly, and that hell was the life he was living. No help for it, he could delay no longer. And why was he so afraid – surely a heart already broken was too shattered to be broken again? Chiding himself for his sentimental melancholy, Severus apparated to St. Mungo’s.
It was sheer good luck that Severus visited Lupin with no other visitors present, he thought. When he entered the room, Lupin was lying with his back facing the door. Severus approached quietly, unwilling to disturb the sleeping man.
“Ah Severus, you came!” Remus smiled, startling Severus as he abruptly turned to face him.
“Of course. I told you I needed to observe you, and discuss anything you can recall of the curse, in order to be able to work on a potion to restore you.”
“I can’t thank you enough, Severus, for offering to help me. As good as the potions brewed here in the hospital might be, they could not possibly be a match for your own,” Remus said, his eyes glowing, his hand outstretched towards the Potions Master.
Severus ignored the outstretched hand and sat down in a chair for visitors at the side of the bed. Coughing roughly to clear his suddenly constricted throat, he gruffly said, “No need to thank me, Lupin. I promised Minerva I would try my best to help you. Having promised I will do no less.”
“Yes, indeed, Severus,” Remus said, sounding unaccountably subdued, “I know you are a man of your word.”
“Yes, well,” said Severus into the awkward silence, “What can you recall of the curse?”
Remus shook his head and said glumly, “Nothing. I can’t recall who cursed me, how I came to be there, or anything of the curse itself.”
Severus nodded grimly, and then said, “I shall visit the Ministry before I go home. Tonks or Kingsley may be able to slip a copy of the auror’s report to me, so that I can at least see which Death Eaters were present when you found. That may provide some sort of clue.”
“Better ask Kingsley for help then, Severus. I’m not sure if Tonks will be too cooperative,” he added, his mouth quirked in a little sad smile. “Harry and Hermione tell me she has been harassing both of them, and the staff here relentlessly, so that she might be allowed to visit me. When she found the ban on visits would not be lifted, she simply metamorphed into a healer and walked in to see me this morning.”
Severus stared at Remus. “And?” he asked gently.
“And Tonks and I had quite a few words, and I doubt she will be returning soon – I love her as a friend, and a great person, you know? I can’t imagine what I was thinking... But she’s very hurt now, and doesn’t understand or doesn’t want to understand – so I don’t believe she would do much to help me at the moment, perhaps you’d better avoid her at the Ministry.”
“Indeed,” said Severus, his voice purring approval. “I’m surprised you finally stood up for yourself, R…Lupin.” Collecting himself, he sourly added, “If you’d only displayed some backbone earlier, you probably wouldn’t have been pushed into that absurd relationship in the first place.”
Remus blushed, a sight that made Severus’s heart leap. Remus hung his head a little, and then awkwardly said, “Yes, well… Piercing together information from Hermione and Minerva, it seems Tonks simply insisted and persisted until she had the entire Order on side. It’s a bit embarrassing to contemplate, but it seems she did simply push me into a relationship.” Raising his head to gaze directly into Severus’s eyes, he added, “Hermione seems to think I was especially numb and shaken after hearing of Dumbledore’s death. She said I seemed particularly upset by the thought that you had betrayed us for Voldemort. Do you know why that might be, Severus?”
Averting his eyes, Severus stammered, “Well, of course you were very close to Dumbledore – naturally news of his death upset you.”
“Hermione seemed to think it was more than simply his death. She got the impression it was the thought of your betrayal that was most disturbing to me.”
“Well, I can give you no explanation for Miss Granger’s more fanciful impressions,” Severus snapped angrily, prepared to leave immediately.
“I’m sorry, Severus. It was cruel of me to bring up something so painful to you,” Remus softly said, resting his hand lightly on Severus’s arm. “And I must apologize for having so little faith in you, Severus. I should not have doubted your loyalty,” he added, his golden eyes burning with sincerity.
Looking away from him, Severus said, “It was meant to be convincing. Had you doubted my loyalty, the entire plan would have been at risk.”
“Nonetheless, I am sorry,” Remus said. “I can’t even begin to imagine how difficult it must have been for you. And how exhausting it must have been to sustain the pretense afterwards. Dumbledore asked more of you than anyone, and you gave all, without faltering. I can’t even begin to express my admiration. And I can’t even begin to express my sorrow for all that you must have lost. I’m truly sorry for all that you have had to suffer.”
“I’ll return some other time,” Severus said, and fled – from the room, from the hospital and from the words of Remus Lupin.
~*~
Lupin smiled up at him, his eyes golden glowing honey, and then slowly thrust his hips up to drive his cock in deeper, Severus felt Lupin’s cock fill him, and gods, it felt so good, his hips jerked involuntarily, and then Lupin sped up his fucking… and Severus thought the feel of the cock inside him was just too much, it was heaven, it was bliss, and he tried to call out, but his voice caught in his throat and Lupin wrapped his hand around his cock and he came, spurting across Lupin’s stomach and chest.
~*~
Severus woke up weeping, the harsh rasping tears of a man who rarely wept. He curled himself into a ball under his blankets, and did not sleep again that night.
Again and again he heard Remus’s words, “I can’t even begin to express my sorrow for all that you must have lost.”
You don’t even remember all that I have lost, Severus thought bitterly.
~*~
Severus found himself anticipating his daily visits to Remus eagerly, more eagerly than he felt comfortable explaining to himself. Although he had found little information that could assist Remus in his recovery, he enjoyed sitting with Remus – conversations during which they never ran out of things to say: discussing some of the less disturbing events of the past years; describing his current attempts at setting up a mail-order potions business, based in his home – the sort of talk friends might share.
Walking through the doorway on an uncommonly sunny day, he was disappointed to see that he was not the werewolf’s only visitor. Hermione Granger sat close to Remus (practically on top of him, Severus thought sourly), holding one of his hands in both of her own. He couldn’t quite catch what she was saying, but something about the wheedling tone made him frown with displeasure.
“Ah look, here’s Severus,” Remus said enthusiastically, pulling his hand free from Hermione’s clasp.
“What are you doing here, Snape?” Hermione asked, looking disgruntled at having to share her visiting time.
“I see Mr. Weasley’s good manners have been rubbing off on you, Miss Granger,” Severus responded smoothly, his habitual masked expression concealing his surprise at her uncharacteristic rudeness.
Remus frowned at the girl, and then sighed loudly, “Tonks. You’ve been repeatedly asked not to come and visit. Why can’t you understand that whatever it is that you are feeling, I cannot and will not reciprocate? I love you as a friend, and I truly believe you are a wonderful person and a very gifted witch, but my feelings for you aren’t romantic and I don’t believe they ever will be. I’m sorry, Tonks but I really must ask you to go.”
“But Remus…” she pleaded.
Placing himself next to Remus’s bed, Severus stood over the Hermione-shaped metamorphmagus, and said flatly, “Miss Tonks, you can either leave now, without making a fuss, or I will inform both the hospital security and the Auror’s department about your increasingly hysterical and unbalanced behavior.”
Raising his hand to prevent interruption, he coldly continued, “No further discussion, no pathetic whining or pleas. Just. Go.”
“You prick,” Tonks hissed, her semblance of Hermione’s form slipping and then dizzyingly reshaping into her own form. “I know what you want, you want him yourself. Well, you don’t have a chance, you traitorous ugly bastard. As if he’d ever want you!”
“Enough,” Remus commanded, rising from the bed, his face set in anger. “I can assure you I am far more likely to want Severus than you. Now please leave!”
Tonks turned and ran out of the room, sobbing as she fled.
Calming his face into its usual pleasant expression, Remus said, “Please, Severus. Take a seat. I’ve been hoping you would come by soon. I’m sorry you had to witness that.”
Severus sat, trying to slow his rapid breathing. He wanted to kill the stupid slut for that outburst. And for daring to come and visit Remus again. “How could you not realize it was Tonks, Remus? Couldn’t you smell the difference?” he asked, acidly.
“Of course I could, Severus. I knew as soon as she entered the room. I hoped that by hearing it explained to a third person, Tonks might find it easier to accept that there will never be a relationship between us. Nonetheless, I’m very sorry you had to endure that display. And those comments directed at you.” Remus smiled at Severus in sincere apology, a smile so sad and sweet, Severus had to force himself to breathe past the constriction in his throat. He thought that smile alone might shatter his heart into a thousand pieces.
“No matter,” he answered gruffly. “I’m hardly likely to take the opinion of a deluded little hussy like that seriously.” Clearing his throat, he added, “You’re looking very well, Lupin. Have the healers said how much longer they want your company?”
Remus smiled broadly, an open smile that lit up his face. “It seems they’ve finally had enough of me. They say I can leave tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow?” Severus asked with dismay. “But where will you go?”
Shrugging his shoulders, Remus said, “Harry and Hermione have been trying to persuade me to move into Grimmauld Place. But that’s the last place I want to be, Severus.” Looking away, he added, “I thought I would go home, to my cottage. After all, the healers say that I’m fine. And while they can’t repair my memory more than they already have, they say there is no problem with my potential to remember things – it’s just that one specific string of memories from those years that has been affected.”
To his surprise, and clearly in a moment of complete insanity, Severus found himself saying, “Why don’t you come stay at my place for a while? That way I can observe you closely, and you won’t need to go straight from hospital to a cottage uninhabited for years, in the middle of somewhere unpronounceable in the Welsh mountains.”
“How do you know about my cottage, Severus?” Remus asked.
Cursing himself, Severus said, “I believe you mentioned it to me some years ago.”
“Really?” asked Remus, his face alight with curiosity. “I have so rarely told anyone about it. I didn’t think that anyone other than Dumbledore knew it was in Wales.” He continued to scrutinize Severus, looking as though the man were a puzzle he was getting closer to solving.
“Well, what do you say?” Severus asked, trying to deflect that line of reasoning. “Why don’t you come home with me?”
Smiling, Remus responded, “Very well, Severus, it’s very kind of you to offer. I’ll be happy to stay with you for a while, if you don’t think I’ll get in the way.”
Trying to control his elated response to Remus’s acceptance, Severus snapped, “The house may be small, but it’s still large enough for two people to be in it without sitting on top of each other, Lupin. And I’m perfectly capable of telling you to go away if you get underfoot.”
Valiantly trying to ignore the smile lighting up the werewolf’s face, Severus continued, “Much of the time, I will be downstairs in my potions-workroom. And you will not be disturbing me in there, I can assure you – you will not enter that room at all.”
“Yes, Severus,” Remus replied, his smile undimmed.
Severus could hate himself for allowing that smile to affect him. Damn that bloody werewolf and his infuriating smile!
~*~
Severus looked up from the book he was reading as the werewolf entered the cottage’s living-room. Smiling broadly, that quirky grin that lit up his whole face, Remus gracefully sauntered to stand between Severus’s knees. Still silent, his smile grew broader and his amber eyes began to glow as he lowered himself to his knees, and began to nuzzle between the Potion Master’s thighs. Unable to entirely suppress his own smile, Severus leaned back in the armchair as Remus began to slowly unfasten his trousers.
~*~
Severus woke up abruptly. Silently he cast cleansing spells on the salty tear-streaks on his face, and the stains on his sticky pajamas, then curled himself into a protective ball and tried to persuade himself to go back to sleep.
~Part Two~
Somehow, installing Remus in his spare bedroom failed to provide Severus with the calm he craved. Hardly a surprising outcome, he thought sourly – between those disturbing nightly dreams and Remus’s continual close proximity, Severus found himself wanking in the bath, and wanking in the shower, and occasionally wanking in the privacy of his potions-laboratory in the middle of the day. Between his over-charged sexual appetite, the lack of sleep and the tumultuous emotions evoked by his dreams, Severus did not feel exactly calm.
Yet, as little as Severus liked to acknowledge it, there was a pleasure and a comfort to be found in Remus’s company: an easy rapport that Severus had missed even more than he had realized. Remus was the one person Severus had ever fully opened up to, and it appeared he was still the only individual Severus could feel at ease with.
Remus gradually learnt more of the events he had lost through curse damage. Together they read the Auror reports Kingsley had provided. Taking his time, Severus cautiously explained the role of the Order of the Phoenix in the fight against Voldemort, Dumbledore’s sacrifice and the role he had played in it, and even Harry Potter’s eventual victory. Seeing Remus accept the events, and accept his dangerous role as a spy among the Death Eaters, never failed to pain Severus. The easy acceptance, the sympathy Remus now expressed for his difficulties playing a double/triple agent, only highlighted the anguish Severus had initially felt when he learned that Remus considered him a traitor.
Severus spent his mornings working in his Potions Laboratory in the basement, preparing potions for his customers’ orders to send to them by Owl. In the afternoons and evenings, he and Remus would read obscure books and esoteric tomes, researching the curse that damaged Remus’s memories. This became an established routine they both seemed to enjoy.
Severus had learnt to expect very little from the world, or to expect little good. Nonetheless, this seemed to be what he craved, the companionship of the person he cared about most in the world, and part of him delighted in it. Another part of him feared that even this would be torn away.
They fit together like the missing pieces of a jigsaw puzzle. Severus might snap and snarl, be snarky and irascible; Remus would smile – and leave him alone when he wanted to be left alone, and talk engagingly when he craved conversation. And when Severus found he was craving company, Remus would sit next to him on the sofa, the only sounds breaking the silence the rustle of pages turning and the crackle of the fire, their thighs and shoulders occasionally touching, both engrossed in their books.
Severus found himself exhilarated by each and every fleeting touch. His own body’s response, the way his breath quickened and his heart leapt, infuriated him. It was enough to drive anyone insane, Severus gloomily reflected. And would it ever change? At least their research was beginning to uncover much forgotten knowledge – the trick would be gleaning the useful information from the dross.
“Severus.”
“Mmm, what?” Severus replied, half-drowsy from the warmth of the fire and the comfort of Remus pressed next to him on the sofa.
“What if you placed some of your memories in a pensieve and we looked at them together?”
“What?” Severus’s heart thudded in alarm. No, no, no… Forcing himself to breathe slowly, he sneered, “Is your brain damaged after all, Lupin? Does your impatience override all common sense? The healer emphatically said you could suffer further damage if your memories were forced…”
“But if you were to extract a memory, a particularly strong memory of something we did together, we could explore it together. It wouldn’t be forcing anything – we’d merely be watching it in the pensieve – and if evoked something in me, well and good, and if it didn’t, there would be no harm done.”
Standing up, Severus snarled, “I’m not letting you into my memories to poke around for your pleasure, Lupin.”
Lupin looked up at him, his face both sad and serious. “I have no wish to invade your privacy – you must know that. Surely we’ve come to trust each other in recent years Severus, no matter what happened long ago at school. I believe we’re friends now – I know I’ve come to value you greatly and I trust you more than anyone… I have come to care for you, and I hoped… well, that’s not the point,” he said heavily. “But I thought watching some intimate memory we share might help me recover my own memory.”
“More intimate than you eating me for supper, Lupin? Because that’s my strongest memory of you – you trying to eat me in the shrieking shack… would you like to share that intimacy with me?” Severus spat.
“Severus.”
“Get away from me, werewolf,” Severus snarled, and frankly fled, racing up the stairs to the refuge of his bedroom.
Slamming his door shut, he sat heavily onto his mattress, leaning his face into his hands. Oh gods, oh gods… what had he done? What had he said? He should not have reacted so strongly. He sat there on his bed motionless, long after the sounds of Remus preparing for sleep had stilled. There was no sleep for him that night.
Descending the stairs in the morning, Severus found that Remus was already awake.
“There’s freshly-made tea, Severus,” Remus quietly said, not lifting his eyes from the newspaper he was reading.
“Thank you.”
Quietly drinking his tea, Severus surreptitiously watched the other man turning the pages of the paper. Remus looked up, his eyes meeting his own directly.
“I spoke harshly last night, Lupin, more harshly than I had intended. I wish to apologize.”
Lupin nodded. “I’m sorry I upset you so – I do know you’re a very private person.”
The silence settled thickly between them, an uncomfortable tension.
Severus sighed, and said heavily, “I cannot explain myself to you, Lupin. But I can’t… I cannot…”
“That’s alright, Severus. I’m sorry I brought it up. I won’t mention it again.”
“Thank you.”
Pouring himself another cup of tea, Severus said, “I’ve been thinking of some of the older, volumes of dark magic Potter still has, in the Black library at Grimmauld Place. I thought I might ask him if I could borrow some of the books, so that we could investigate the darker, ancient curses.”
“That’s a great idea. Some of those books contain arcane knowledge found no-where else. I’m sure Harry would agree to let you borrow the books.”
“Indeed. I will return later in the day, after consulting Potter. Or… would you like to come along also, Lupin?”
“Thank you, Severus,” Remus replied, smiling brightly for the first time that day. “I’d like that very much. Just let me fetch my jacket,” he called, already bounding eagerly up the stairs.
Severus sat at the table, waiting for his return, his expression bleak and resigned. Hope and fear, despair and loss, and sorrow, all weighed heavily upon him.
~*~
It was actually Remus who stumbled over the clue – literally. He and Severus were sitting together on the sofa, books in their laps, their thighs and shoulders lightly shifting against each other. Severus had not turned his page for some minutes, his attention was fixed on surreptitiously watching Remus: observing the way his long wavy hair hung over his face, silky silver streaks gleaming in the firelight; the way his lips moved slightly apart when concentrating. Remus looked up from the page he was perusing, and slowly smiled, his honey-gold eyes glowing as they met Severus’s gaze.
“Severus,” he said hesitantly, and then passing his tongue lightly over his lips, he repeated, “Severus,” his voice husky and low. Mesmerized, Severus simply stared at the other man, unable to act or speak, frozen in place by the strength of his longing and the enormity of his fears, paralyzed by the beauty of those golden eyes. He felt himself drawing closer to Remus, as though their locked gazes exerted a tangible magnetic force.
Anger came to Severus’s rescue – sudden fury as he recalled that this man did not share his longings, and that even if he did, it would not last. Dumbledore’s death had proved that. Anger pounding through his veins, Severus felt his jaws clench and his eyes began to burn and glitter.
Looking suddenly surprised, Remus shifted awkwardly, and clumsily knocked his book to the floor. Stumbling slightly as he picked the book up, Remus stared in astonishment at the page it had opened on.
“This curse here has effects that describe my symptoms exactly,” Remus exclaimed.
“Let me see,” Severus demanded, imperiously reaching his hand for the book.
Remus handed him the volume and sat next to him again.
“Memoria Perdita,” Severus read out aloud. “Memory Lost. Yes, you’re right, Lupin, the symptoms match exactly.” Tapping his forefinger against his lips thoughtfully, Severus mused out loud, “No counter-curse described, hmm, but some improvement can be achieved with the Memoriola Remedy, hmm, yes, I think I can work on improving that… I have the ingredients in stock…” and he rose and walked downstairs to his Potions Laboratory, still reading the book and muttering quietly to himself.
Severus worked into the night, without stopping for an evening meal. When Remus called out that dinner was prepared, Severus’s shouted response was that he would eat later. One of Severus’s intellectual gifts was the capacity for concentrated focus; and one of his personal coping strategies was emotional avoidance. The combination of the two kept him working on Remus’s remedy long after the werewolf went to bed.
~*~
Severus lay with Remus asleep in his arms. He buried his nose in Remus’s hair, breathing in the scent of him, the joy, the comfort of lying with him. Gently he began to kiss the side of his throat, his jaw-line, his mouth, until Remus finally woke up, love, lust and longing shining in his amber eyes.
~*~
Severus woke up his throat closed, scarcely able to breathe through his longing. His bed felt cold and empty; he experienced the absence of the one who belonged there as an actual physical pain, a hollow emptiness that hurt. Blinking away the stinging in his eyes, he pulled himself out of bed. Enough! he thought, wrapping his dressing-gown around him, determined to go downstairs and work on the potion formula again.
~*~
Severus studied the full vial with satisfaction. He had worked long and hard on modifying the existing formula, and believed this remedy had a good chance of success. Even if it could not provide Remus with a miraculous recovery of his lost memories, observing its effect upon Remus would help him successfully adapt it further.
Now was the time to deliver the remedy to Remus, and watch its effects – and with that thought Severus suddenly sunk to the chair, still staring at the vial he held. What would happen when he delivered the potion to Remus and it did successfully restore his memories, Severus wondered. Would Remus hate him again, see him as the murderer and betrayer of Dumbledore and the Order? Severus did not think he could bear to return to that. Remus would remember that Severus had never told him what Dumbledore had asked him to do, and he would recall that Severus had not contacted him afterwards. He very likely would hate Severus, and that would destroy the easy companionship between them. And even though Severus could not deny that their friendship did not satisfy his longings, at least they were living together. Perhaps Remus would even wish to return to the pink-haired slut? Anything was possible – or almost anything; the one outcome not possible was that Remus would long for him, desire him and … care for him, as he did Remus.
Without the remedy, Remus would continue living with him, and one day, perhaps eventually … and with that thought, Severus instantly knew what he must do.
He cared far too much for Remus to allow him to continue living with curse damage, regardless of the consequences to himself. And there was no guarantee that the curse damage might not affect Remus’s memory in the future. Severus could not allow himself to be the individual who withheld the cure from Remus. If offering the cure to Remus meant he lost Remus, then he would simply have to accept that. He would not deny the man he … loved this remedy.
Having ascertained that Remus was indeed asleep in the spare room, Severus gathered some clothes and a few other essentials, shrinking them and adding them to the shrunken books in his bag.
Downstairs, he made certain that the potion and his message for Remus were prominently displayed in the centre of the kitchen table. Checking that all was as he had planned, he locked the door behind him and apparated to the gates of Hogwarts.
~*~
~Part Three~
Feeling the warmth of Remus’s mouth completely engulfing him, Severus began to thrust - helpless little thrusts punctuated by his gasped, “Oh gods, Remus, I’m going to…” and then he came, thrusting as he screamed, coming so hard sparks of light exploded behind his eyelids.
~*~
Waking up in the unfamiliar bed in his rarely-occupied safe-house in the Scottish highlands, Severus went through the now familiar waking-up ritual: cleaning the salty tear trails off his face, and removing the sticky mess from his pajamas. Sighing, knowing that he would get no more sleep this evening, Severus wrapped himself in a blanket and gazed at the freshly-tended fire, huddled against the cold, oblivious to the silent tears that ran unchecked down his face.
~*~
Severus uncurled himself from his habitual huddled position next to the fire-place when he heard the knock on the cottage’s front door. His head spun as he stood: he had neither eaten nor slept properly for days. He paused at the front-door – it could only be Minerva, he thought – he had given her the location so that she could contact him if Remus required adaptations to the remedy. Yet that knock didn’t sound like Minerva, it was not impatient or imperious enough.
Deciding he really did not care who it was, Severus opened the door.
Remus stood there, his eyes fixed unblinkingly upon Severus. He looked harried, weary.
Severus stared in disbelief. Was he even real, or was he some hallucination conjured up out of his longing?
“Go away,” Severus said, trying to close the door.
“No,” said Remus, pushing his way past Severus into the cottage’s single room.
“Get out,” Severus shrieked. “I don’t want to speak to you! Talk to Minerva if the potion is not working! Get out!”
The werewolf turned to face him, golden eyes gleaming as he stared into Severus’s dark eyes, “The potion worked perfectly. As soon as I saw your note, I apparated straight to Minerva, who persuaded me to take your remedy before I came looking for you. I did that – I took the dose according to your instructions. Then,” he said, his voice becoming quieter and hoarser, “then I began to remember. I remembered everything. About you. About us. For god’s sake, Severus, why? Why didn’t you tell me what Dumbledore had asked you to do? Or at least contact me afterwards?”
Severus faced Remus, his eyes flat and black, a dark midnight without stars, and spat, “Get out Remus, I’m NOT telling you again. Just get out! I don’t want to listen to you tell me what a traitor I am, or ask me how I could have done it. Just. Get. The. Fuck. Out.”
“Tell me one thing, Severus. Just one thing, and I will leave,” Remus whispered, his face fixed and furious, his eyes hard amber. “Did it ever mean anything to you? Did I ever mean anything to you?”
Severus turned away, and leaned against his hands on the old wooden table, his breathing harsh and strained. “Yes,” he rasped. “Yes, you meant everything to me,” he whispered. “Now go.”
He remained there, leaning over the table, facing away as he heard the door shut behind him. Only then did Severus allow his trembling limbs to collapse, to simply drop down to huddle on the cold stone floor, his arms wrapped tightly around his knees as he struggled to breathe against the tears that threatened.
Caught in his anguish, Severus scarcely noticed the sound of quiet steps behind him – he remained oblivious until he actually felt Remus kneel down to wrap his arms around Severus, and enfold him in embrace, his body real and tangible, pressed against him, his breath a warm tickle against his ear, whispering words of love and forgiveness. They remained like that, Remus cradling Severus, until Severus thought his heart had shattered wide open and been re-made, letting love spill out and flood back in, the cadences of his heart-beat forever changed.
“Remus,” whispered Severus, a world of meaning in that one word.
And Remus answered, “Yes, oh yes,” requiring no translation for those unspoken words. And then, “I love you,” pressing his lips against the top of Severus’s head, nuzzling the dark, silky hair.
Severus turned and wriggled in Remus’s arms to face him, his eyes meeting Remus’s soft golden gaze.
“Well, what are you going to do, now your memories have returned?” Severus asked.
“Love you and love you, and keep loving you.”
“And what are you doing about Miss Tonks?” a faint hint of insecurity haunting Severus’s joy.
“Once I remembered everything, you became my only priority,” replied Remus. “I’m afraid Tonks is going to be hurt again – that makes me sad, she’s a good person, and a good friend, and deserves better. But I want no misunderstandings – you are the one I want. The one that I love,” he added softly. “I’m here with you now, and that’s exactly what I want – now and always, Severus.”
Allowing himself to be drawn into the warmth of his smile and the glow of his eyes, Severus leaned forward and claimed Remus’s mouth. He kissed him as though the world would end and this was the last kiss he would ever have; he kissed him as though the world had ended and nothing remained but the two of them. His tongue slid between Remus’s open lips, plundered his mouth as he cradled his head; their tongues twisted and entwined and enticed until they were both breathless. “Remus,” said Severus hoarsely, and the werewolf answered with shining smile and glowing eyes, and the feel of his hard body pressing.
Eagerly they stripped off their clothing, and pressed skin to skin, their hard cocks sliding against each other as they gasped and moaned. Remus whispered a lubrication spell, and slathered the lube over their cocks, taking them both in his hands.
“Oh gods, don’t Remus, I’m going to come too soon. Oh, fuck me now,” gasped Severus. Remus moaned, and spun Severus around, and then slid his cock into the cleft of his arse, rubbing up and down. “Oh gods, go on, fuck me now,” Severus gasped and with a sob Remus complied. Whining as he entered, Remus began to helplessly thrust, quick, shallow thrusts as Severus arched his back and pushed against him.
Remus held himself still inside Severus for a moment, and the he moaned “Severus,” and grabbed his hips and pulled him hard towards himself, thrusting deeply, and more deeply still, pushing his hard cock deep into the tight warmth.
Severus moaned and muttered wordless encouragement; he felt as though he would explode with the familiar wonder of it - the feel of Remus’s cock thrusting wildly into him, rubbing against his prostate. He began to come, his cock pulsing without direct touch; he cried out hoarsely, seeing only blackness behind his eyelids and then pinpricks of sparkling lights, like stellar constellations on a night sky flight; and the stars rushed through him, trailing comets of fire, and he came and he came and he came, creamy white semen arcing up to spurt into the air. As the tight muscles tightened and clenched around him, Remus thrust deeper still and was drawn into orgasm, hips pivoting, howling out his pleasure, emptying himself into Severus.
Catching his breath, Severus pulled himself gently apart from Remus. Severus wriggled until he faced Remus again, his lips meeting the other man’s. He could feel the tracery of Remus’s soft tears against his own eyelashes – he felt as though he himself was about to laugh or weep.
“Now and always, Severus.”
Settling himself against the other man’s shoulder, Severus sighed with complete contentment. Alive again at last. “Now and always,” he softly echoed.
~fin~
*** I have no idea about Latin word order or sentence structure – the Latin words are from the English to Latin Dictionary at http://www.archives.nd.edu/cgi-bin/look
memoria - memory , the capacity for remembering, remembrance; record of the past, tradition, history.
memoriola - memory.
I am grateful to the kind people at LiveJournal’s little_details who helped me create the curse name: “memoria perdita”.