Celandine's Chronicle (celandineb) wrote in cels_fic_haven, @ 2007-08-08 17:55:00 |
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Entry tags: | hp fic exchanges and fests, hp fic holiday, hp fic remus/severus |
HP fic: Change of Heart [Remus/Severus, adult]
Title: Change of Heart
Author: celandineb
Fandom: HP
Pairing: Remus/Severus
Rating: adult
Warnings: Bondage, light D/s.
Summary: Longbottom is meddling in Snape's personal affairs by trying to convince him that Lupin is the man for him. Snape decides that a bit of distraction is in order, and enlists Lupin's help.
Notes: For rossana, in the 2006 Snupin Santa exchange at lupin_snape. Originally posted anonymously here.
The bell on the door tinkled and Snape glanced out into the front room. When he saw the back of a brown head bent over one of the shelves near the register he sighed, pulled the simmering cauldron away from the flame, and stalked out of his cubbyhole of a laboratory.
"May I help you?"
The other figure straightened, and Snape's lips thinned.
"Oh. It's you, Longbottom. You're early."
Smiling slightly, the younger man said, "I didn't realize you'd object. I brought the Mandrakes that you were so anxious about last time; they're just outside. Were you expecting someone else? Professor Lupin, perhaps?"
Snape huffed. Every time Longbottom brought a shipment of plants, he managed to mention Lupin's name. The troublesome boy was trying to match make. Having been instrumental in helping to clear Snape's name with the Ministry at the end of the war, Longbottom had become oddly protective.
"Hardly." He jerked open the door and picked up a pair of the pots sitting there. "Help me bring these inside. They're fully mature?"
"Of course they are." Longbottom sounded insulted. He had come a long way from the timid student who would never have contradicted his Potions professor. Perhaps it was his achievements fighting against Voldemort, or perhaps simply having found that teaching Herbology was an occupation that suited his talents. Snape did not much care.
Once they had removed the Mandrakes and other plants to Snape's tiny greenhouse, then came the ritual of ordering the next lot. Longbottom's prices were low, almost absurdly so, which he explained as being due to the fact that he was able to use the Hogwarts facilities without charge. Snape suspected that the Headmistress might have had a hand in setting the prices too. He resented the idea that he was being favored, but he needed to watch every Knut. Not many were comfortable purchasing their potions from an ex-Death Eater, exonerated or no.
"Right," said Longbottom at last, pushing his stool away from the worktable. "I'm not sure I'll have quite twenty pounds of shrivelfigs, but I'll bring as much as I can. The mallowsweet is no trouble, it's been a phenomenal crop this year, and all the rest ought to be fine too. See you in a fortnight."
Snape nodded, expecting him to leave, but Longbottom hesitated.
"Are you going to come to the match next week? It's Ravenclaw against Slytherin, you know."
"I've not attended Quidditch at Hogwarts in several years," Snape pointed out, startled. "Why would I go this time?"
Longbottom shrugged, looking uncomfortable. "I just thought you might enjoy a day out for a change. You never seem to leave this shop. Professor Lupin was saying the other day that he wished he saw you more often."
"I'm quite happy with my life as it is, thank you." Snape bit out the words. Again the mention of Lupin. "Your concern is touching, but unnecessary."
It seemed that Longbottom wanted to say something more, but he did not, only shrugged again and left.
When five o'clock rolled around and he had locked the shop door, Snape thought about it. It had been some months since he had done anything but brew and sell potions, purchase his supplies both for shop and house, or do such cooking and cleaning as were necessary to maintain himself. Perhaps he ought to consider Longbottom's suggestion.
Ten days later, he climbed, shivering slightly, into the stands. The seats reserved for guests were alongside those for the staff, but Snape chose to sit on the far side. He was here for Quidditch, not conversation; however, his intention to remain solitary was thwarted.
"Severus."
Without turning around, he replied, "Remus."
"You're sitting by yourself."
"How kind of you to notice. It is deliberate, I assure you. I was hoping simply to watch the match in peace."
Instead of leaving, Lupin sat down just behind him. There was as yet no one else within a few yards, but Lupin leaned forward and spoke in low tones nonetheless. "Has Neville been nagging you, too?"
"Of course. The boy will not abandon this idea that you and I ought to be together."
"It's the same with me. Every time he comes back from selling supplies to you, he makes sure to sit next to me in the Hall at dinner and chatters on about how weary you're looking, how lonely you seem to be, and on and on." Lupin's breath was warm against Snape's neck.
"He needs a diversion," Snape growled, still keeping his face forward and refusing to look at the other man.
"Perhaps, but what?"
"Let me think about it. I'll owl you."
"All right." Lupin stood up, saying more loudly, "Enjoy the match," and went over to his seat near the Headmistress.
Snape watched the Quidditch game with only half of his attention, glancing around the stands and thinking about how Longbottom might be distracted from his persistent attempts to interfere in Snape's life. Encouraging him to take up a hobby seemed useless; Snape had no idea about what Longbottom might find engrossing and no interest in learning enough about him to even develop a guess. His eyes fell on a pair of Ravenclaws in the next section. Despite the fact that it was their House competing, they were ignoring the game, snogging as if they would win House points for excellence in the endeavor.
Now, that seemed a possibility. If he could turn the tables on Longbottom and set him up with a suitable partner for a romantic relationship, Longbottom would have no time to spare in meddling in Snape's emotional life. But who? Having been on the Hogwarts staff himself for years, Snape was well aware that teaching responsibilities consumed nearly all of one's time; finding sufficient free moments to develop any kind of friendship outside the school, much less a romance, was difficult at best. Perhaps Lupin would have an idea. He would go to the Post Office tomorrow and send him the suggestion.
When a ruffled-looking owl turned up at his window with Lupin's reply two mornings later, Snape was hard at work bottling carefully-measured portions of the Draught of Peace and muttering to himself about lazy people who didn't work hard enough to fall asleep unaided. Not that he minded being able to sell the stuff, but right was right.
The note said that in Lupin's opinion the only potential person on staff who might be of interest to Neville Longbottom was Luna Lovegood, now teaching Transfiguration since as Headmistress Minerva McGonagall did not have the time. Lupin proposed that the next time Longbottom encouraged Snape to visit Hogwarts, he could agree, with the stipulation that Lovegood be one of the party for whatever Longbottom had in mind. With a bit of luck, the younger man might be distracted.
Snape penned a curt, "Will follow your plan," on the reverse side of the parchment and sent the owl back to the school.
Longbottom's next scheduled delivery was only a couple of days away, and Snape braced himself for the delight the young man was sure to express when Snape agreed to whatever ridiculous proposal he made this time. Rather his surprise, Longbottom said nothing of the sort at all to begin with, only apologizing that he was three pounds short of the amount of shrivelfigs that Snape had asked for, and then discussing the Quidditch match.
It had been a very close game. Slytherin had won by only twenty points; their Seeker far outshone the rest of the team, and the Ravenclaw Chasers were excellent.
"I imagine that Professor Lovegood was disappointed," said Snape stiffly, thinking that it would do no harm to see if Longbottom had any reaction to her name.
"Oh, I doubt Luna really noticed." Longbottom chuckled. "She attends all the matches, of course. You may remember that she was the commentator a few times as a student, but Quidditch isn't quite her cup of tea, on the whole."
Well, perhaps it was a positive sign that Longbottom paid enough attention to be aware of Lovegood's preferences. One could not tell from his use of her Christian name; while he was scrupulous about referring to the senior staff formally, like so many of the young these days he applied more casual standards to his own peers.
"I saw you speaking with Professor Lupin at the match," Longbottom continued blithely. "He's been looking well. I expect it's partly to do with being able to rely on you for the Wolfsbane Potion, don't you think?"
"Perhaps," Snape shrugged. "I couldn't say."
"No question in my mind. He's agreed to help me organize bit of a – not quite a proper party, more just a social gathering for the staff, this Saturday. I'd like you to come. Even if you're no longer teaching, you know, you're still thought of as one of us."
Snape raised his eyebrows. "I rather doubt that."
"You shouldn't," said Longbottom. "Most of the staff respect your ability to keep order in the classroom, and out of it, and your talent in the subject." He essayed a twisted smile. "Even I have to admit that, though you know that Potions under your tutelage was scarcely my favorite subject. If it hadn't been for the regents, with all the negative publicity from your trial, the Headmistress would have hired you back in an instant, just as she did with Professor Lupin. But anyhow, will you attend on Saturday?"
"All right," Snape growled. It wouldn't do to let Longbottom think him eager. "Enough. Now, about the order for next time. The full moon is in eleven days; is there any chance you'll be able to gather a half-bushel of fluxweed that evening? I've run low on my stocks of Polyjuice Potion."
Longbottom nodded, and they worked out the details for the order.
"Eight o'clock on Saturday," he reminded Snape before leaving. "I do hope you'll manage to come."
Snape was careful not to arrive before half past eight, of course. By the time he walked into the room – usually the Arithmancy classroom, commandeered for the occasion – nearly all of the staff were already there and he was greeted with great enthusiasm by Longbottom.
"Professor Lupin was wondering if you weren't going to come after all," Snape was told as a glass of Firewhiskey was thrust into his hand, not altogether to his displeasure. "He didn't say so, but I could tell."
"I said I would attend, and I have," Snape said, taking a sip and feeling it burn pleasantly down his throat. "Surely the success of this soirée does not depend upon my appearance, in any case?"
He glanced around the room. Miss Lovegood was only a few yards away, holding up a wineglass and smiling at it as if deciding what she might Transfigure it into. Snape supposed that Minerva McGonagall knew what she was doing in hiring that young woman. "Professor Lovegood seems to be in fine spirits this evening," he ventured. Curse it, where was Lupin? He was not supposed to have to persuade Longbottom to pursue Lovegood all on his own.
Longbottom said, "So she does. Come along," and led Snape over to her. "Luna, you remember Professor Snape, of course."
Lovegood looked as dreamy as she ever had as a student. "Oh, indeed. I was at your trial several years ago, Professor. Most interesting. I wondered why you didn't tell them about the Wrackspurts; that ought to have been sufficient evidence that you were not guilty."
Wrackspurts, indeed. With as much calm as he could muster, Snape took another, larger, sip from his glass. "Thanks in part to Mister Longbottom's testimony, I was cleared of the charges in any case." He cleared his throat. "How are the two of you enjoying being behind the desk, rather than in front of it these days?"
The change of topic worked, but Snape looked around desperately as Longbottom began to talk about developing lesson plans for first-year Herbology. It had been dull enough when he himself was on staff to hear the rest of them grouse about the work; he hardly needed to hear it again now, but with little else in common with these two, what other topics of conversation were there? "Excuse me," he said in relief when he finally spotted Lupin. "I should go say hello to my other host."
Leaving Longbottom and Lovegood chatting amiably, Snape edged his way past Professor Sinistra with a self-deprecating nod and seized Lupin's elbow to hiss in his ear, "I thought you were supposed to help me find a way to distract Longbottom from his incessant meddling. I've had to endure a good half-hour of his chatter, interspersed with Lovegood's inanity."
"I'm sorry, Severus," Lupin apologized softly. His hand was warm and firm as he shook Snape's, saying in a louder voice, "It's good to see you here."
Snape was disconcerted to find that he regretted it when Lupin let go. "Longbottom persuaded me," he grumbled for the benefit of anyone who might be listening.
"And a good thing, too," came the Headmistress's voice from beyond him. She looked Snape up and down, pursing her lips. "You really ought to visit us more often. I saw you at the Quidditch match the other week, but you disappeared too quickly for me to say hello."
"My apologies, Minerva. I had something brewing that required my attention and could not delay my departure." A white lie, but he had always had a healthy measure of respect for Minerva McGonagall.
"Humph. You'll come to us for Easter."
It was not a question. Snape spread his hands, saying, "If I can."
She shook her head. "No, Severus, I won't accept any excuses from you. I'm aware that you think you prefer solitude," her glance flicked to Longbottom across the room, and Snape wondered what that young man had been bruiting around the school concerning his reclusiveness, "but everyone should socialize occasionally. You will be here."
"Very well," said Snape, admitting defeat as gracefully as he could.
Lupin had somehow vanished, so Snape chatted with the Headmistress for a while; she at least had the ability to converse on topics beyond the classroom. Eventually, however, she excused herself to speak with Professor Flitwick, and Snape took advantage of the opportunity to edge toward the door. He had done his bit in attempting to bring Longbottom and Lovegood together, and there was really no purpose in remaining any longer.
"Going so soon?"
"Indeed I am." Snape did not need to turn to know who was behind him. When a tug on his sleeve brought him to a halt, though, he allowed himself to look at Lupin. "What is it that you want?"
With a smile of innocence no more convincing than the Weasley twins' had ever been, Lupin said, "We're nearly out of Firewhiskey. Would you mind helping me bring in a few more bottles before you go?"
It could not take more than a few minutes, he supposed. "If you insist."
"Pomona offered to be the first line of defense, as it were, tonight," said Lupin conversationally as they walked down the hall. "Although by this time of year there's rarely much that requires the attention of the Head of House; the first-years are all settled in and the prefects know what they're supposed to do."
"I wondered why she wasn't there. But everyone else on staff seemed to be, which would certainly explain why the liquor supply might run low."
Lupin nodded as he tapped the lock on the storeroom door with his wand to open it. A simple Alohomora wouldn't work, as this room was spelled to respond to staff wands only. "We haven't had a good booze-up since the Christmas feast; you should have accepted the invitation I know Minerva sent you. No matter now." He gestured. "Come on. The Firewhiskey is on the shelf at the back."
"I remember," said Snape, sidling past Lupin and reaching up for a bottle.
"Incarcerous!"
The ropes produced by the unexpected spell yanked his arms back, pinning him to the wall, and another rope snaked around his ankles to hold him fast. "What do you think you're doing?" Snape growled. "Release me."
A nail-bitten finger ran along his jawline. "I don't think so, Severus." Lupin's other hand began to unbutton Snape's robe, starting at the waist and heading down. "You know this is what you want, and you've made me wait more than long enough."
Snape tensed. "Someone will notice if we're both gone for very long. Longbottom, for instance." The protest sounded feeble, even to himself, and Lupin laughed softly.
"If anyone notices your absence, they'll assume that you have simply gone home. You're not known as the life of any party." Through the opened buttons, he extracted Snape's cock, rigid since Lupin had touched his hand half an hour before. "And my condition is always blamed when I act oddly. No one suspects, not even Neville. His meddling is pure coincidence."
"That's hard to believe." Snape bit his lip as Lupin knelt down. "Are you sure you haven't given any hint?"
"I promised you I wouldn't. Do you doubt my word?" Lupin glared up at him.
"No, of course not." If he hadn't trusted Lupin implicitly, he would not be here at all, much less wearing nothing but shoes and socks under his formal robes.
"Good. Because I wouldn't want to do this with someone who didn't trust me," said Lupin, and he leaned forward and licked along the vein that ran the length of Snape's cock, tracing a damp line from base to crown, then blowing on it.
Oh, Merlin. Snape wanted to grab Lupin's head, thrust into that wickedly teasing mouth, but he couldn't move his hands at all, and his hips only an inch or so. He groaned when Lupin retraced his movement, this time downward from the head, and then closed his teeth around Snape's scrotum – not quite biting, but making it quite clear that he could if he wanted to.
Heat coiled in his belly, and fluid welled in the slit of his prick, one drop escaping to tickle its way down to where Lupin's prickly-smooth cheek pressed against the base. With a final tug on Snape's balls, Lupin let go. "I'm going to turn you around now, Severus," he warned.
Snape knew what that meant, and welcomed it. The bonds loosened, and he was swung around to face the wall, this time with his feet braced slightly apart and away from it so that he could bend forward. Lupin stood close behind him and murmured a lubrication charm as he lifted Snape's robe. He liked Snape tight, though he was careful to penetrate slowly enough at first that the stretch was bearable. One hand slipped around to stroke Snape's prick as he began to thrust.
Shutting his eyes and leaning his head against the wall, heedless of the way Lupin's motions made it jolt on the hard stone, Snape gave in to the sensation. It had been too long since he had last let Lupin take him like this. Their agreement meant that they did their best to avoid being discovered; tonight was the most risk Snape had ever permitted himself to take, and though he felt a certain chagrin that he had done so, he had been unable to resist.
Lupin's teeth clamped onto his shoulder as he shifted his angle of penetration, and Snape gasped, the stroke of Lupin's cockhead across his prostrate sending sparks through him that he could nearly see through closed eyelids. He could feel the fabric of Lupin's clothing rubbing against his arse with each motion.
"Harder," Snape urged, and Lupin complied, pounding into him, his hand dropping away from Snape's prick to grab his hip instead.
"Oh, fuck, now," grunted Lupin, and with a final thrust and shudder he came, biting at Snape's neck, though – as always – he did not break the skin. For a couple of moments he leaned, panting, against Snape's back, still with his cock inside Snape's arse, semen oozing out slowly as he softened.
The tension in Snape's prick was exquisite as Lupin reached to stroke him again. Bound like this, old habits prevented him from reaching climax without verbal permission; a fact that Lupin knew and took advantage of.
"You want to come, don't you," Lupin whispered in his ear, using his thumb to smear the welling moisture around the head of Snape's prick. "How long has it been, Severus?"
"Five months," Snape gritted through clenched teeth, quivering under Lupin's hand. "As you very well know."
"Since we were last together, yes, but don't you ever wank yourself on your own?" Fingers slid along his shaft. "I do. I did last night, thinking of how I fucked your mouth last time, with your cock and balls trussed in leather. I could hardly wait for tonight, remembering how it felt. Don't you ever lie in your bed and frot against the mattress, thinking of me?" Lupin pressed behind Snape's balls. "Don't you?"
"Yes..." hissed Snape unwillingly. "Damn you, let me come."
"Oh, no fear of that." Lupin gave a soft laugh. "You love this, Severus, you'd be disappointed in me if I were to let it happen too quickly. I'm almost inclined to go back to the party and leave you here, waiting, but someone might override the extra spell I've put on this door and find you."
Nevertheless he finally pulled his cock from Snape's arse, murmuring a charm to clean away the sticky fluids. "I wonder how long you can last if I suck you off?" he mused aloud.
As long as I have to. Snape did not need to answer in words. Lupin loosened the ropes that held him and again turned him around before refastening them, leaving Snape pinned tightly against the wall once more, his prick jutting out scarlet from his black robes.
"Gorgeous," said Lupin, sinking to his knees.
Snape begged to differ; he knew exactly how unattractive he was, but he was scarcely going to object when Lupin's mouth closed around his prick and began to suck. The warm wet pressure had Snape pulling futilely at his bonds, desperate but unable to let go without Lupin's explicit consent. His buttocks clenched, yet the soreness of his arse was not enough of a distraction to keep him from whimpering shamefully as he was touched and teased, licked and laved, brought to the edge of climax and held there for long minutes, until the deferral mingled pleasure and pain so that he could no longer distinguish them.
Just as he thought he could take no more, Lupin relinquished his prick, leaving it naked and cold, quivering in the unloving air. He stood, knees creaking, and stepped back, his eyes intent on Snape's face.
"Now. Come for me," Lupin ordered.
The command was scarcely spoken when Snape's tormented prick convulsed without another touch, semen spurting in pale streaks onto his robes and the floor. He shook with the intensity, the spasms continuing even after he was dry, his eyes squeezing shut.
"Tergeo," he heard Lupin say, and then, "Refigo," and his arms dropped as his wrists were freed. He almost fell forward into Lupin's arms.
"Easy, Severus." Lupin helped him to sit down, and rested beside him companionably. After a few minutes of silence, during which Severus rebuttoned his robe with trembling fingers, Lupin said, "I know I've said this before, but are you certain that you're happy with our present arrangement?"
Snape turned his head slightly to glare. "I have no interest in becoming fodder for the gossip column of the Prophet, as you know would happen if we were less discreet."
"It would be a nine days' wonder, perhaps, but it might be worth it to get Neville Longbottom's nose out of our business," argued Lupin. "I don't know that he'll be as easily distracted by Luna as either of us had hoped. But if you're afraid of the publicity, then I won't insist."
"Afraid?" Snape knew that Lupin was trying to provoke him, but it worked despite that realization. "I merely prefer to have my private life remain so. If you consider our arrangement less than ideal, are you saying that you wish to break it off?"
Lupin chuckled. "Not at all. And not just because as a werewolf and member of Hogwarts staff, I'm hardly in a position where I can easily find someone for a casual shag. You know perfectly well how I feel about you, but I'm willing to wait as long as necessary for you to accept that."
"Humph." The word "love" had never been spoken between them, and as far as Snape was concerned it never would be. Furthermore he doubted that sex as mind-blowing as he had just had was possible on a more frequent basis... but in the aftermath, he was tempted to think that perhaps he should give Lupin a chance to prove him wrong. "Very well, Remus."
When Longbottom appeared in Snape's shop the following week, round face beaming as he told Snape that he had the requested fluxweed, and asked whether Snape had enjoyed the get-together at Hogwarts, Snape replied, "Well enough."
Longbottom's face fell slightly. "Ah."
"Did you enjoy your conversation with Professor Lovegood?" Snape inquired, and was gratified to see Longbottom flush. "I'll take that as an affirmative."
"I wish that you would find someone, too." Longbottom's voice was unexpectedly firm. "Since you're evidently not interested in Professor Lupin anymore – yes, I know you once were. I saw how you looked at each other that year that you were both teaching, even if it took me a while to figure out what it meant. But now, maybe you'd like to meet one of Luna's friends? There's a witch called Dittany who works for the Quibbler, and the three of us were planning to go see a Muggle play in London over the Easter holiday, if you'd be interested."
"No need, Longbottom," said Snape coolly. "I have plans of my own for the holiday. If you must know, I'll be going to Corfu, with Professor Lupin... with whom I have been involved for a number of years." He smirked at Longbottom's astonishment. "I trust that this information will convince you that no change of heart on my part is necessary?"