Kristmas Wish Fulfilled for: karasu_hime
From: A Wonderful Watcher: kittylefish

Title: Playing With Fire
Characters/Pairings: Snape/Lupin; Snape/Lupin/Black
Rating: NC-17
Kinks/Themes Included: I believe I included all of the following, at least a little bit: gender bender, wall sex, dirty talking, double-penetration, hair pulling, first time, rimming. Also, threesome.
Other Warnings/Content: Some plot may have found its way into the smut. Proceed with the utmost caution. Also, a hint of romance. Sorry, I couldn't help myself.
Word Count: 10,667
Summary/Description: A miscast spell turns Severus Snape into a woman, and he suddenly finds himself very popular with Remus Lupin and Sirius Black.
Author's Notes: I owe a deep debt of gratitude to my awesome alpha reader, who not only pointed me to this prompt in the first place and suggested oh-so-casually that maybe I should write it, but who read multiple drafts and waved her pompoms like crazy whenever I needed it. Also, to my wonderful betas for always making the time to help polish my stories until they shine.





"What have you done?" Snape gritted through his teeth in a voice that sounded horribly unlike his own.

Hermione was staring at him in horror. "I'm sorry! I didn't mean to ..."

"Well, change me back," he hissed.

"I don't know how!" she said, her cheeks flushed and her eyes wild as she stood facing him in the library at Grimmauld Place.

He took two steps towards her, reaching for his wand, but his hand got tangled in his sleeve and before he could free it, she had stormed out of the room.

Snape glared after her, part of him wanting to follow her and—well, best not to think about what he might do if and when he caught her—but the rational part of him, what was left of it anyway, knew that would only compound the problem. If anyone should see him like this … In addition to his too long sleeves, his robes practically dragged on the floor, ensuring that he would most likely trip himself if he tried to pursue her. And that was the least of his problems. He grabbed his robes in his hands. Hands which were free of their usual scattering of black hairs …

Snape conjured a mirror to inspect the damage, barely aware of the stream of invective that burst from his mouth at the sight of his face. His nose seemed slightly finer, less prominent; his lips were fuller and pinker. His long, slim neck was much better suited to this—Oh, Gods!—feminine form, he realized. His gaze dropped lower to note the fabric draping over two generous bumps on his chest; he started to cup one before he remembered his predicament and let his hand fall to his side.

He tried a few counterspells, but nothing worked. He was about to cautiously check whether he could leave the library unobserved and make his escape from Grimmauld Place when the door flew open and nearly smacked him in the face.

Lupin stopped just inside the room, his jaw nearly coming unhinged in his shock. "Severus—what the hell happened to you?"

"Ask Granger," Snape growled. He started to push past the man when he saw—Merlin, no, anyone but him—but Merlin must have been otherwise engaged and ignored his request.

Black practically ran into Lupin when he stepped over the threshold and stood staring at Snape with an equally idiotic expression of disbelief. "Is that … Snape?" he asked Lupin.

"Brilliant deduction. Who else might it be, I wonder?" Snape crossed his arms and glared at the two men. When he noticed Black's gaze drifting to his chest, he glanced down and realized the fabric had pulled taut over his bosom, clearly outlining his … breasts. For a moment, he stared at them, bemused, then dropped his arms.

Black lifted his gaze to Snape's face just as the door opened a third time.

"Severus, what has happened? Hermione was barely coherent …" Minerva's voice trailed off as she saw him standing there. "Oh. Dear Merlin." She moved slowly, carefully, as one might approach a wild animal. "Well, I see why she didn't want to come with me. Whatever happened?"

"Spell mishap. Can you fix it?" Snape asked.

"Well, let's see." Minerva ran through a series of spells, accompanied by his litany of muttered complaints: "Tried that," "Won't work," "Is that the best you've got?" Finally, she snapped, "If you haven't any useful suggestions, would you mind keeping quiet? I can't even hear myself think."

Snape was fast losing patience. "What about Albus? Do you think he could fix it?"

Minerva compressed her lips together in a tight line. "He's unavailable for the next several days," she said. "I can send him a message, but I doubt he'll be able to return much ahead of schedule."

Snape emitted a sound like a wounded, angry animal. "What am I supposed to do? I can't walk around like this!"

"Why not? If anything, you look better than usual." Black snickered. Lupin shot him a quelling glance.

"Why don't you stay here for a day or two while we try to find a solution? I can work with Hermione to see if we can figure out exactly where her spell went wrong."

"A day or two! Stay here? Like this? There has to be another option," Snape snapped.

"Well, then, don't." Black responded. "If you change your mind, you can have the room on the second floor at the end of the hallway. I'm going to bed." He glanced behind him, nodding slightly at Lupin. "Goodnight, Remus, Minerva."

Lupin addressed Minerva. "I will do anything I can to help." He turned to Snape. "Goodnight, Severus. If you do decide to stay here and you need anything, let me know. I can help you find whatever you might need."

"All I need is my—" Snape stopped. He could hardly say "my prick back" in front of Minerva.

~ o ~

Snape climbed the stairs and found the room at the end of the hallway. Shutting the door firmly behind him, he took in his surroundings. The room itself was small, dark, and depressing, he decided, though he noted the fresh towels sitting on the small writing desk in the corner. He wondered who had put them there.

He sighed as he looked at the cracked mirror hanging above the desk. Who would want to look at themselves while attending to their correspondence, he wondered? His curiosity got the better of him, and he approached, the better to view his reflection.

He'd expected to see a truly hideous woman looking back at him. Instead, he was surprised to find that the feminization of his features seemed to soften his harsh edges. Taking a deep breath, he removed his robes, hanging them neatly over the back of the chair. His skin, white as alabaster, looked impossibly smooth. He ran his hand down his arm, noting the strange, hairless texture. His gaze was inevitably drawn to those lush, round mounds on his chest. He pulled off his undershirt and succumbed to temptation, his hands rising to grasp and squeeze. He caught the rosy tips between his index and middle fingers and pinched, gasping in surprise as a wave of desire settled itself in his nether regions.

Without his conscious direction, his hips began to undulate. When he bent to shed his underpants, his hair fell forward over his shoulder, and when he stood, it brushed his nipples. This body felt like it was wired for electricity, the slightest contact causing ripples throughout his entire system. He found it utterly fascinating. He returned his attention to his reflection, admiring his tiny waist, which flared out to full, feminine hips.

Slowly, one hand inched towards the apex of his thighs, finding the patch of soft, dark hair. His hand delved between the folds of flesh. When his fingers contacted his sensitive nub, he nearly jumped out of his skin; clearly, much lighter pressure would be more than sufficient.

After his legs started to wobble a bit, he lay down on the bed. He continued to play with his breasts and nipples with one hand while his other stroked and caressed the warm, silky folds of flesh between his legs. When he began to ache for more, his fingers explored further, marveling at his wetness. He gave thanks that even as a woman he had exceptionally long fingers, which he used to excellent advantage.

Just as his excitement reached fever pitch, hips bucking as he probed as deeply as he could, a knock sounded upon his bedroom door. He wondered if he could pretend to be asleep. He also remembered he hadn't thought to cast any sort of sound-proofing charm, so if he continued with what he was doing, he'd have to be very silent. He drew in a deep breath, his fingers still moving inside him, but his excitement began to ebb.

The knock sounded again, louder this time. Bugger. Reluctantly, he removed his fingers and looked for something to wipe them on. His wand he'd foolishly left on the other side of the room with his robes. "Just a moment," he called as he wiped his hand on the sheet. He'd deal with that later. He rolled off the bed and pulled on his robes, then picked up his wand and went to the door. "Who is it?" he asked.

"Severus, it's Remus," the werewolf said, his voice barely above a whisper. "Open the door."

"Why should I?" Snape asked. He really wanted nothing more than to go back to bed and finish what he'd started.

"Please," Lupin said. "I don't want to wake up the whole house."

Seeing the wisdom in that sentiment, Snape opened the door a crack. "Well?" he said.

"Come on, let me in." Lupin put his foot in that crack and pushed.

Caught off guard, Snape stepped back; Lupin capitalized on his momentary inattention and entered the room, shutting the door behind him.

"What do you want?" Snape hissed. Compared with Snape's feminine body, Lupin had the upper hand in terms of both size and strength; though Snape didn't think the werewolf was the sort to take advantage, he felt strangely vulnerable. Oddly, the sensation was not entirely unpleasant.

"I want …" the wolf seemed at a loss for words, but finally settled on, "… to talk to you."

"So talk," Snape said. After a brief period during which the werewolf did nothing more than shift from one foot to the other, he added impatiently, "Well?"

"Have you thought …" Lupin started, then stopped. "I mean, in your situation, I think I'd want to … explore certain possibilities that wouldn't normally be available to me," he finished in a rush.

"Exactly what did you have in mind?" As the wolf hemmed and hawed, Snape said, "Just spit it out. I haven't got all night."

"Well, haven't you thought it might be fun to …" Lupin petered out, dragging his hand through his hair.

Snape was amused to see what an effect he seemed to have on the other man as a woman. He moved a bit closer as he said, "For Merlin's sake, Lupin, it's not like I actually am a woman, whose delicate sensibilities you might offend. Just say it."

"Say what?" Lupin hedged.

"Well, you're here in my room after everyone else is fast asleep, unable to formulate a coherent sentence, and with a schoolboy blush adorning your cheeks. What am I meant to conclude?" Snape asked. After a moment, he added, "Well?"

"Well, what?"

"For fuck's sake. You are the one who barged into my room. Now tell me what you want or get the hell out," Snape said.

"I want—Gods, I want you," Lupin said, his gaze lingering on the way the fabric of Snape's robes clung to his breasts before his eyes met Snape's.

"And you expect me to just fall in line with your wishes, is that it?" Snape jabbed his finger into Lupin's chest to punctuate his words.

"No—that's not what I meant." Lupin floundered. "I hoped—I thought maybe you would want to …"

Snape was about to throw the wolf out of his room when he hesitated. After all, he'd never have an opportunity like this again. At least, he hoped not! Still, perhaps he ought not to waste it.

"You're in luck," Snape said. "I seem to be in the mood to experiment." Lupin lunged forward clumsily, but Snape caught his hands and backed him against the wall. "If we're going to do this, it'll be on my terms," he said. "You will wait for my … guidance before you do anything."

Lupin nodded, and Snape let go of his hands. Snape removed his robes, tossing them towards the chair; they skimmed the back and then landed on the floor, where he let them stay.

The wolf stared at him, raking his gaze over Snape's exposed body, lingering on his curves. Snape felt immensely powerful at the naked longing in the man's eyes, ignoring any sad thoughts that nobody had ever looked at him like that when he was a man. His nipples seemed to prickle just from the look. He reached down and parted his nether lips, exposing himself to Lupin. The werewolf licked his lips, and Snape felt a thrum of excitement course through his body.

This time, Snape remembered to cast the sound-proofing charm, then leaned against the wall. "On your knees, I think."

Lupin glanced at him, and Snape saw the uncertainty in the werewolf's eyes, but he did as told.

Snape tangled his fingers in Lupin's hair and pulled his face nearer. "Go on, then." He leaned closer and murmured, "Persuade me."

Lupin needed no further invitation. His hands grasped Snape's thighs, spreading them for better access, as his tongue darted out for a delicate taste, sending a shiver through Snape's body. He followed this with broad swipes over the entire sensitive area, lapping like an eager puppy.

Snape's fingers tightened in the werewolf's hair. One of Lupin's fingers ghosted lightly over his heated folds.

"Severus. Is it all right if I …?" He dipped the tip of his finger into Snape's wet opening.

"Yes," Snape hissed, his hips moving forward to encourage the man. The combination of that tongue licking and now those fingers probing inside him became almost too much for him to take. Waves of excitement, all centered around the werewolf's hot tongue, began to shiver over his body, pulsating, growing stronger until he was seized by a paroxysm of pleasure that caused his legs and hands to tighten on Lupin's head as he held on for dear life, moaning incoherently. When his shuddering contractions ceased, he noticed Lupin's hands on his thighs, gently trying to prize them from his head. Snape relaxed his grip on the man.

Lupin looked up at him, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. He got to his feet, holding Snape's gaze the entire time. "Have I persuaded you, then?" He took Snape's hand and brought it to the bulge in his trousers. His voice low and husky, he asked, "Have I earned the right to claim my reward?"

Snape felt a slight flutter of nervousness when he realized the size of the bulge he was squeezing. Despite his recent intensely satisfying orgasm, he felt a peculiar hollowness that demanded to be filled. Filled with precisely what the werewolf offered, he suspected.

Snape glanced towards the bed. It was small, and in any case, he wasn't certain he wanted to invite the werewolf into his bed. He unfastened Lupin's belt, pondering how to proceed. His gaze lit on the little desk, and he grabbed Lupin's hand and dragged him to it. Hopping onto the desk, he pushed Lupin's trousers and pants down and then hooked one leg around him to pull him close.

When the blunt head of Lupin's cock brushed his clit, Snape's heart started pounding frantically. The werewolf hovered there, rubbing, for a few moments, before sliding lower to find Severus's warm, wet quim. As Lupin slowly pressed the head of his prick in, Snape's eyes fluttered closed so he could concentrate on the exquisite sensation. Snape's hips rose to meet the wolf, welcoming him, drawing him deeper. As Lupin's cock filled him completely, Snape drew in a shuddering breath. He hadn't expected it to feel so good that he'd forget to breathe.

"Gods, you feel fantastic," Lupin muttered. "So wet. So hot."

Snape tried to muster the mental acuity to make a scathing comment about the wolf's lack of originality, but then Lupin grabbed Snape's bum and began to move, his pace sure and steady, and drove every rational thought from Snape's mind. Snape reached for Lupin's head and twined his fingers in his hair, pulling him closer. Eager lips found the other man's mouth, hungry, devouring; tongue probed enthusiastically if not particularly skillfully. Lupin returned his kiss with equal fervor, his tongue thrusting to the same rhythm as his cock.

Snape felt the excitement taking hold of him again, the first sparks of electricity dancing over his heated flesh. He pulled his mouth away from Lupin's, gulping in air.

Lupin lowered his head, sucking on Snape's nipple, and Snape moaned. Lupin muttered against his breast, "You like that, Severus?"

Snape nodded.

Lupin began moving faster, thrusting deeper. "You like this, too, don't you?" he panted near Snape's ear. "You like that I'm fucking you." He emphasized his next words with a series of hard thrusts. "You like … my cock … buried deep … in your cunt."

Eyes closed, head thrown back, Snape moved against him, matching his rhythm. But at his silence, Lupin slowed almost to a standstill. "Tell me you like it, Severus," he said, pulling nearly all the way out very slowly. "Tell me what you want me to do."

Snape tried to tighten his legs around Lupin's hips, tried to pull him back inside. Frustrated when the werewolf didn't respond, he finally gave in. "I like it," Snape said. "I want your cock inside me." Fingernails digging into Lupin's shoulders, he added, "Now fuck me like you mean it, or I swear—" But he didn't have to swear anything as Lupin slammed back into him so hard the little desk shook with the impact.

"I fucking mean it," Lupin growled into his ear, pumping into him furiously.

"Oh, yes," Snape moaned, clinging to the wolf as his excitement built, intensified, burning hotter and hotter until, like a raging wildfire, it devoured everything in its path, consuming him. Snape was still riding out the waves of his own ecstasy when he heard the werewolf cry out, felt him burrowing even deeper inside him as he reached his climax.

Coming down from his high, Snape released his hold on the werewolf. "That was … illuminating," he said. He drew in a deep breath. "Good night."

Lupin blinked at him, seeming confused. "What?"

"I said good night." Snape shoved the werewolf off of him. "As in, you can go now." Lupin was staring at him disbelievingly. "It wouldn't do for you to be seen coming from my room, now, would it?" he explained patiently.

"Oh. I suppose." Lupin stood and pulled his trousers back on. "Well." He walked to the door. He stopped with his hand on the handle and turned to look at Snape.

Snape felt something lingering there in the air between them, but he ignored both it and the werewolf.

"Good night, then," Lupin said and left.

For a moment, Snape stared after him. Then he stood, performed several cleansing charms on himself as well as various furnishings and fabrics. He lay down on the tiny bed and tried to go to sleep. Everything felt strange—not just the house and the bed, but his very physiognomy as well. He tossed and turned, finally falling asleep just as the cold, gray light of dawn seeped in through the threadbare curtains on the window.

When he awoke, it was mid-morning. Kreacher must have been in his room, as there was a little pile of white linen sitting on the desk. He approached, eying it sourly. Women's undergarments. Quite sensible, plain white cotton women's undergarments. He scowled, picking up the brassiere by looping his index finger through it, as if it were some disgusting creature he was loath to touch. He wondered how he was supposed to go about putting the thing on. He gazed at the round mounds gracing his chest. It seemed a shame to confine them rather than allowing them to bounce about freely. But remembering the way Black had stared at his chest the previous day, he thought perhaps it was for the best, though that did not help him solve the problem of how he was supposed to hook the bloody thing.

In the end, he put his arms through it and then cast a spell to fasten it. The knickers of course were much simpler to maneuver. He pulled on his robes, then remembered they were hanging too large on him, so he shortened them and took them in a bit. Not that he cared how he looked, of course, but he had no wish to trip over the hem or sleeves.

He headed down to the kitchen to find a spot of tea and some toast. The last person he wanted to see was Lupin, so naturally, that's precisely who stood putting on the kettle as he walked into the room.

"Good morning, Severus," the werewolf said. "I was just about to make some tea."

"I see that," Snape said, then frowned. Apparently he'd not yet mastered the art of delivering scathing comments in his new, sexy female voice.

"How did you sleep?" Lupin gazed at him searchingly.

"I slept quite well, once I fell asleep. Roughly four hours ago."

"I often have difficulty sleeping in a strange bed …" Snape lifted an eyebrow, and Lupin had the good sense to shut up. The wolf walked over to the counter where the bread was stored. "Shall I make you some toast?"

"That's not necessary. I can make my own toast," Snape said.

"It's no trouble. I'm already here," Lupin said, slicing the bread and setting it to brown.

Watching Lupin at work, Snape could not help but think back to the previous night, to the ways those same hands had touched him. Remembering how Lupin had coaxed from him every pleasured response he had to give, Snape felt a wave of heat rush over his body. When Lupin set the plate of toast, already buttered, and a jar of honey in front of him, Snape thought the werewolf might have bent to sniff his hair, and he almost didn't even begrudge him.

Wordlessly, Snape slathered honey on the toast. He couldn't remember the last time he'd been so hungry. When the kettle sang, Lupin made the tea while Snape devoured his toast. Normally Snape preferred his tea plain, but this morning, for some reason, he found himself adding a splash of milk and a lump of sugar. He wondered if Molly had made a full English breakfast for those who had been up at a decent hour. He pressed his forefinger to a crumb that lingered on his plate and licked it off.

He glanced up to see Lupin staring at him. "What?" he demanded, then shook his head at the sound of that unfamiliar voice coming out of his mouth. He picked up his mug of tea.

"Sorry. Nothing," Lupin said, looking down at his hands resting on the table. Then he lifted his eyes to Snape's. "It's just—I can't stop thinking about you. How it felt to kiss you. To touch you." His voice barely above a whisper, he added, "To lick you. To fuck you."

Snape set his mug back on the table, hand trembling slightly. The werewolf's husky voice had sent flames licking over all of his nerve endings. It was highly disconcerting. "Lupin—"

"Let me come to you again tonight, Severus." Now the man's heated gaze added fuel to the fire.

"Tonight!" Snape put his hands flat on the table. "I should hope by tonight everything will be back to normal and I will be sleeping in my own bed."

"But if you're not … If you're not, you'll let me come to you again?"

Snape had never before heard that pleading tone in the man's voice. "I'm not sure that would be wise," Snape said.

Just then, the door opened. Black stood framed by the doorway. "Remus, Minerva wants you in the library." He stopped at the sight of Snape, his forehead crinkling. "Oh, hullo … Snape."

The Potions master noted the cur's tone lacked its customary venom as his gaze roved over Snape's body.

"We didn't know you were awake. She'll want you, too, if you've finished your breakfast."

Lupin directed a pointed, near-desperate glance at Snape, then rose to leave the room. Black moved aside to let him pass.

"Well, Snape?" Black quirked an eyebrow at him. "Coming?"

Snape drained the last of his tea, then walked to the door. He'd expected Black to follow after Lupin like the loyal hound he was, but instead, he held the door for Snape. "After you, milady," he said with a mock courteous bow.

"Wanker," Snape hissed as he was forced to pass by the man rather more closely than he normally would have, their bodies almost touching as he slipped through the doorway.

Ascending the staircase, he was aware of the mutt behind him, uncomfortably near. Distracted as he was, he bumped his toe on a loose floorboard and lost his footing. As he stumbled, strong hands caught him and held him close to steady him.

The warmth of Black's firm chest pressed to his back was not nearly as unpleasant as Snape would have expected. The hound seemed in no hurry to loosen his grip. "All right?" Black asked, mouth close to Snape's ear, hot breath shivering over the sensitive flesh, and for a brief moment, Snape's traitorous body relaxed in the man's embrace.

"I'm fine." Snape's voice came out unacceptably breathy. He cleared his throat and tried again. "I'm fine," he repeated, much more firmly. There, that was better, though the cur still hadn't let go of him. "Unhand me."

Black chuckled. "How very Victorian of you." He had the audacity to nuzzle Snape's neck, sending little shivers of pleasure down his spine.

"Now, Black." Snape reached a hand behind him, aiming to grab Black's bollocks to force the issue. Instead, he encountered a rather big surprise. As it grew even bigger in his grasp, Snape realized grabbing it was clearly counterproductive. "Dammit, Black!" that disturbingly female voice squeaked as his hand dropped. "Unhand me this instant!"

Black's grip tightened slightly before he dropped his arms. "If you insist."

Snape would never admit, even to himself, that for one brief moment, he missed the feeling of warmth and security those arms had afforded him.

They finished the climb in silence, joining the assembly in the library without further mishap.

~ o ~

"This just isn't possible," Snape said. He raked his hands through his hair, surprised yet again by how much of it there was. "Minerva. How is it possible this … girl has managed to turn me so thoroughly into a woman that, despite all of our combined efforts, we can't find a way to change me back?"

"Severus, we will find a way." Minerva took a deep breath. "Perhaps if you hadn't scared the child away, she could have helped us—"

"She wasn't helping." Snape crossed his arms, then immediately uncrossed them when, yet again, both Lupin's and Black's eyes immediately dropped to his chest. "I can't believe I'm going to have to spend another night," his gesture encompassed himself from head to toe, "like this!" He could feel Lupin's stare practically burning a hole in him, but he refused to meet the werewolf's eyes. Certainly the pounding of his heart had everything to do with his frustration at being stuck here and nothing at all to do with any sort of anticipation regarding what the night might bring.

"I really think the only sensible thing to do at this point is to adjourn for the night and try again tomorrow," Minerva insisted.

"Fine!" Snape spat. "I'm going to bed, then." Still without meeting the werewolf's gaze, he left the room in a furious swirl of robes.

~ o ~

Snape stood in front of the mirror in his little room to comb his hair. He'd taken a quick shower—To calm down,—he told himself. Glancing at the desk, he noticed a parcel that hadn't been there when he'd left his room earlier. He frowned at it. Taking his wand, he checked it for jinxes, hexes, or any other Dark spells. It was clean. When he unwrapped the paper, a bit of parchment fell out. Wear this. Please. The note was unsigned. He dropped the package back onto the desk. Then, his curiosity got the better of him. Pushing the paper aside, his fingers encountered soft silk. He stroked it for a moment, then sighed and shook out the garment. A tiny black nightdress. He held it in front of him. Barely a dress, actually, as he suspected it would only just cover his … assets. He started to drop it back on the desk, but then he hesitated. Surely, soon he would be restored to his proper body. Perhaps it was not so wrong to make the most of this mishap in the meantime.

He removed his robes, again folding them neatly over the back of the chair, and slipped the nightdress over his body. Then, he noticed the skimpiest knickers imaginable, a teensy triangle of fabric held together by nothing more than strings. He slid them up his long, slender legs and into place. He stood staring at his reflection in the mirror. His long black hair drew his eyes to where it tickled the top of his creamy-looking cleavage. He could imagine how his cock would have jumped to attention were he still in possession of that appendage. Instead, he felt a curious melting sensation centered somewhere low in his belly. He brushed his fingertips lightly over his nipples, feeling them harden beneath the silky fabric.

A quiet knock upon the door interrupted him. Lupin. He walked to the door. "Who is it?" he asked quietly.

"It's me, Severus. Let me in." The wolf's voice came quietly through the door.

Heart pounding, Snape opened the door and moved aside. Much as he hated to admit it, part of him was desperately looking forward to repeating the previous night's experiments.

Lupin swallowed hard when he looked at him. "You look amazing," he said. "Will you …?" He made a circle with his index finger.

Snape's feelings were a mixed-up jumble. He felt self-conscious, ridiculous, and irritated in nearly equal measures. However, he also felt incredibly aroused, so he complied with the request.

When he'd completed the circle and they were face to face, Lupin gathered him into his arms. Staring deeply into Snape's eyes, he slowly lowered his head. "I've wanted to do this all day," he whispered against Snape's slightly parted lips.

Snape had expected a passionate onslaught, but this kiss, warm and soft—tender, even—stole his breath away. He wasn't sure he'd ever before in his life experienced such a kiss. He closed his eyes against that sad thought and reveled in the sweet sensation.

Snape combed his fingers through Lupin's hair, and the werewolf tightened his hold for a moment before dropping his hands to cup Snape's bottom. Finding the hem of the nightdress, he slipped his hands beneath. "Where did you get this?" Callused fingers slid over his tender flesh; Snape's legs parted and he pressed himself against the werewolf's thigh. "Did you Transfigure it? I like it."

At last, the meaning of those words penetrated Snape's lust-addled brain. "Wait … What?"

A knock sounded on the door just behind them, and the two men jumped apart.

"Who's that?" Lupin whispered.

"How should I know?" Snape whispered back. "It's not as though I'm expecting anybody else."

They stared at each other. Whoever it was knocked again, somewhat louder this time. "You'd better answer it." Lupin sighed. "It doesn't sound like they're going to leave."

Lupin stood to the side as Snape moved to the door. "Who's there?" he asked quietly.

"It's me," said a familiar, but most unwelcome, voice.

Snape glanced at Lupin, who looked almost as surprised as he felt. "Black?" he said, keeping his voice low. "What do you want?"

"Snape, open the door," Black said. "I'm not leaving until you do."

Snape scowled and opened the door a crack. "I've opened it. Now, go." He started to shut it again, but Sirius wedged a shoulder against it and pushed it open further. Damn this woman's body with its inferior upper body strength.

"I see you're wearing my gift." Black's smoky gray eyes appraised Snape's figure.

His gift … Snape's eyebrows approached his hairline. "Your … I didn't realize …" He glanced towards Lupin, who was scowling now, too.

"It looks good on you." Black smirked. "I knew it would."

"What do you want, Black?" Snape demanded, then immediately wished he hadn't.

"You know what I want. I couldn't stop thinking about you after what happened this morning …" Now Black scowled. "Wait—Who did you think it was from?"

"What?" Snape evaded.

"What happened this morning?" Lupin whispered furiously.

"Nothing happened this morning," Snape said.

"Aw, come on, you remember our … moment … on the stairs. You wanted me then. You could want me now, too, if you let yourself. Why not make the most of your little predicament and have some fun for a change?"

Snape glanced at Lupin, who shrugged. He swung the door wide and let Black into the room; Lupin emerged from behind the door. "As you can see, your idea is hardly original," Snape said.

"Remus. What are you doing here?" Black said.

"What do you think?" Snape asked. "Same thing as you, only he beat you to it by about twenty-four hours. Why are you so surprised? Didn't know he likes to play for both teams, too?"

Now both men were staring at him, slack-jawed.

"What?" Snape asked. "Was I not supposed to know that about you?" He smirked. "I am a spy, after all, and you two were hardly discreet." He watched with satisfaction as red washed over the wolf's cheeks and the mutt fidgeted and shuffled his feet. "The question remains, what do I need you for, Black?"

Black turned his gaze to Lupin, then back to Snape.

Lupin spoke. "Severus." He approached and touched Snape's arm. "Wait a moment."

"What?" Snape continued to glare at his nemesis.

"Well, think about the possibilities." Lupin pulled Snape to him, Snape's back to his front, Lupin's left arm resting just below Snape's breasts. "For instance—" His right hand reached down to cup the mound between Snape's thighs, which parted instinctively for him. "He could lick you while we fuck …"

"Hmm. You make a convincing argument," Snape said.

Lupin leaned back against the wall, still holding Snape to him.

"Well, Black?" Snape quirked an eyebrow.

Black did not hesitate, dropping to his knees in front of the pair. His hands slid smoothly over Snape's thighs, pushing the nightdress up to reveal the skimpy knickers. "Beautiful," he said. He buried his face in Snape's mound, inhaling deeply. He licked Snape through the flimsy fabric, then pushed the cloth aside.

At the first touch of that tongue slithering, warm and wet, the entire length of his slit, Snape gasped. Lupin reached under the nightdress and began rubbing and squeezing Snape's breasts and toying with his nipples. Black hooked his fingers through the knickers and pulled them down Snape's legs so he could step out of them. After several long, decadent licks, Black settled on his sensitive bud, flicking it with his tongue, sucking it gently, swirling delicately around it.

Lupin fumbled with his trousers, and then Snape felt that delicious prick wedge itself between the cheeks of his bum. Snape whimpered, leaning into Lupin, letting the werewolf bear his weight. Then a horrible thought struck him. "Fuck!"

"What's wrong?" Lupin asked.

"Did you … cast … a sound-proofing charm?" he panted to Lupin.

"Yes. Earlier. A silent one, while you were … negotiating with Sirius," Lupin said, close to his ear.

"A little sure of yourself, were you?" Snape asked, wriggling against him suggestively.

"Optimistic," Lupin replied.

Black stopped what he was doing, and Snape looked down, trying to figure out what he was up to. From the position of the man's head and the werewolf's sudden gasp, Snape suspected Black had taken the opportunity to lick the head of the werewolf's cock.

Black dipped one long, slender finger inside Snape's cunt, then rubbed the wetness onto Lupin's cock. "I've got her …" Snape's fingers tightened in his hair. "I mean, him ready for you," he said, sounding hoarse.

Lupin shifted his position, searching out Snape's entrance, and Snape angled his hips, reaching a hand to help guide him. As Lupin's cock entered him, Black's eager tongue worked over both cock and quim, tasting and teasing. The sensation of being fucked while Black continued to lavish attention on his clit, lips, and incidentally, Lupin's cock, was beyond anything Snape could have imagined. One of Black's hands gripped Snape's bum, helping to support his weight, while the other alternated between caressing Snape and playing with Lupin's bollocks.

Pleasure coursed over Snape's body, tiny shivers at first, then larger tremors as everything began to spiral out of control. His legs started to tremble. With a growl, Black grabbed both his thighs and drew his legs up to rest on his shoulders. Seeing Black's face completely obscured, buried in him, feeling his mouth greedily devouring every bit of him that he could reach, pushed Snape over the edge. He cried out incoherently, his body shaking like a leaf in a storm with the unexpected force of his orgasm.

Fingers digging into his hips, the wolf moved faster, harder, grunting near Snape's ear with each deep thrust. As Snape's overly sensitive flesh flinched from his tongue, Black shifted his attentions to Lupin, hands and mouth urging him on. The wolf ground into Snape wildly until, with one final, prolonged groan, he shot his essence straight to Snape's core.

When Snape had recovered sufficiently, he became aware of his precarious position, balanced on Black's shoulders, leaning against the werewolf, whose legs were shaking with the effort of remaining upright. He barely had time to wonder if he'd be able to extract himself gracefully when Black began helping his legs back to earth while Lupin supported his weight.

Black sat back on his heels, smirking.

Still leaning against Lupin, Snape stared at the tiny bed. It might fit him and the werewolf, should he choose to invite him. He wished he'd thought to enlarge it a bit earlier in the evening, while he still had enough energy, before ... Alas, he'd been … distracted. Distracted, and not at all certain he wanted any overnight visitors.

He still wasn't convinced he wanted to wake up with either of these two, but he knew he didn't want to send them away yet, and continuing to lean against the wall indefinitely was not an option.

"We can Transfigure it." Lupin's voice came from behind him. "Between the three of us, we can manage it."

They did indeed manage, enlarging the bed until it nearly filled the width of the tiny room; still, it was barely big enough for the three of them.

"We could go to my room," Black suggested.

"Why? This is cozy." Remus snuggled Snape closer to his chest. "It's not as though we are going to sleep, now, anyway. Just rest a little ..." He wrapped Snape's hair around his hand, seeming to enjoy the heavy weight of his silky tresses.

Black cuddled up to Snape's back side, one arm reaching around to leisurely fondle his breasts.

Snape lay sandwiched between the two men, marveling at how comfortable … Well, comfortable was not precisely the word, as his nerve endings were jumping all over the place … but how right it felt to be there with them. Well, right perhaps was not correct, either. Nothing about this situation was really right, to be perfectly honest. How about fun, then? Or fantastic. Lying there, sandwiched between two virile men who were completely focused on him, felt fucking fantastic.

Lupin's eyes were closed, and Snape began to think despite his words that he had fallen asleep. But then, with a sigh, his eyelids fluttered open. The thumb of his other hand, the one that wasn't holding Snape's hair in that possessive manner, brushed over Snape's lower lip. Then he dipped his head and kissed him, his tongue, warm and wet, coaxing Snape's to come out and play.

In an instinctive effort to get closer, Snape scrambled to lie atop the wolf, reveling in the sensation of all that naked flesh pressed so closely together while their mouths engaged in such intimacies. He felt the werewolf's semi-tumescent cock poking his thigh, and he shifted so that he could rub his soft folds wantonly against it, causing it to harden further.

Snape felt hands caressing his back and thighs, kneading his bum. He had no idea whose hands were where. Someone stroked a fingertip delicately over his rear entrance, and he gasped.

One of Lupin's hands still held Snape's hair, and he pulled slightly so that Snape released his mouth. "Sit on my prick," the wolf said, his voice rough. "I want to see you fuck yourself with my cock."

The words shot straight to Snape's quim. He reached down, spreading his lips slightly with one hand while, with the other, he took hold of Lupin's prick, rubbing the tip directly onto his clit, teasing them both. Lupin retaliated by grabbing his tits, squeezing them and pinching the nipples. At last, Snape relented, taking Lupin's tip inside him, then slowly letting his weight drop until he impaled himself completely. Looking down at where the man's appendage disappeared inside his own body inspired in him a wanton freedom the likes of which he'd never before experienced. He began slowly to move his hips.

Lupin's hands grabbed his bum, squeezing, massaging, spreading his cheeks. He felt something firm, warm, and wet find his tight, puckered ring. Gods! he thought. Is he … A glance over his shoulder left him in no doubt. Whatever else he might think of Black, he had to concede the man had a talented tongue, which was presently being put to excellent use driving him absolutely crazy. His muscles began to contract, both forward and aft.

Black mumbled something he didn't quite catch, and then a finger began to probe his now slick entrance. A lubricating spell, he realized. The finger had no problem breaching his muscle, which had been well primed by Black's tongue work. Black wiggled his finger, and Snape wriggled against it, enjoying the sensation, feeling his excitement mounting still further. He enjoyed thrusting hard against Lupin's cock, then back against that naughty digit. When a second finger joined the first, he thought nothing of it except to enjoy the sensation of being filled so completely.

When Black knelt at his back, he began to get a bit nervous. When the man removed his fingers, Snape's heart started pounding double-time. When Black rubbed the tip of his prick at his rear entrance, Snape bit his lip.

Lupin began to stroke his hands over Snape's body, caressing lightly, soothing his anxiety. "You'll be fine," he said. "Promise."

Snape didn't know why the words calmed him, but they did.

Black moved slowly, giving him time to adjust as he eased his prick in. "All right?" he whispered near Snape's ear.

Snape nodded, focusing on his breathing to help him stay relaxed. He stopped moving, and Lupin stopped as well, waiting while he adjusted to this new development. The pressure was intense in the beginning, and everything felt so tight he wondered whether there'd actually be enough room for both men to be inside him at once. After he'd got about halfway in, Black pulled almost all the way out again. Snape was surprised to discover he missed the intrusion, and when, after a moment, Black resumed his forward motion, the tight passageway accepted him much more easily, stretching to accommodate him until he was fully sheathed.

"You have such a sweet arse," Black panted. "So fucking tight."

Snape said nothing. Completely invaded as he was, with Lupin's hands smoothing over his back while Black's had settled on his breasts, he felt like he was drowning in sensations and was, in fact, completely incapable of thinking a coherent thought let alone formulating words into sentences.

Slowly, experimentally, he began to move, to see how it felt to add more stimulation to his already over-stimulated body. Now Lupin's hands moved to rest lightly on his hips, not guiding, but merely supporting him. As Snape began to move—slowly, cautiously—establishing his own rhythm, the two men followed his lead. Before long, sensations which had seemed almost too intense in the beginning were suddenly no longer enough, and Snape picked up the pace, demanding more.

Lupin strained towards him, taking a nipple in his mouth, sucking and biting it.

Snape heard someone crying out, breathless, panting, and realized it was himself.

"Yes," Black hissed in his ear. "That's it." He buried his face in the side of Snape's neck, then nipped his earlobe.

Harder, faster. Harder. Faster. With each thrust, Lupin rose to meet him, and each time he pulled back, Black drove into him from behind. No pause, no respite, no chance to catch his breath or calm his heartbeat.

Snape felt someone, he wasn't sure who, grab his hair and wrap it around his fist, pulling gently. His head tilted back, obeying the exquisite tension.

Black bit his shoulder, eliciting a whimper, and Snape clutched at Lupin's chest for support. Black's strokes came fast and furious; the hand in Snape's hair tightened, and the man groaned his pleasure into the side of Snape's neck.

Oh! Someone—he glanced down and saw it was Lupin—plucked at his sensitive bud. It was too much. Everything in him rushed to a loud, crashing crescendo, and he collapsed onto the wolf, grinding against him, writhing in ecstasy. A few short thrusts, and Lupin followed him over the precipice.

They lay like that for a while, the three of them an exhausted heap of entwined limbs. Snape wondered if they were crushing Lupin, but he couldn't muster the energy to either ask or move. Besides, Black was still lying on top of him. Still inside him, truth be told, though he was fast dwindling. Lupin, too. He couldn't quite fathom that he was lying there still quite intimately connected to two men who, just two days ago, he'd have called enemies.

Not that this changed anything, really. The fact that they wanted to fuck him senseless while he inhabited this body, the fact that he'd let them—all of it would be quite irrelevant, he suspected, once his body returned to normal. He doubted either of them would be seeking him out then. For a moment, he felt the familiar bile rising in his throat and considered throwing them out immediately.

Then Black kissed the side of his neck before he rolled off him, and as Snape slipped to Lupin's other side, the wolf pulled him close, snuggling him. Snape decided to let himself enjoy this time while it lasted, indulging in a contented sigh as he rested his head on Lupin's chest.

Relaxed, warm, sated, his two companions drifted off to sleep, and Snape allowed himself to do the same.

Snape awoke before dawn, surprised to find himself still resting comfortably in the wolf's arms, his head cushioned on his chest. He supposed he ought to wake them up and send them packing before the household began to rise. He glanced up to find Lupin watching him, eyes hooded by heavy eyelids. Snape opened his mouth to speak, but Lupin put his finger to his lips, indicating he should keep quiet. Snape noticed Black sleeping on the other side of Lupin, lying on his back.

Snape complied, though his eyes asked the question, Why?

Lupin turned on his side to face him. Then, he kissed his forehead, his eye, his cheek, before finding Snape's mouth in a kiss that burned slow, but no less hot for that.

Wait. What's he …? Snape's still sleepy brain tried to make sense of this kiss that felt passionate and tender in equal measure. A kiss that seemed to offer a promise or three that the werewolf could not possibly intend to keep.

The man's arms wrapped around him; hands caressed his body, stroked his hair. Snape couldn't resist the temptation to pretend this tenderness was truly meant for him. He kissed him back with everything he had, throwing a leg over Lupin's hip to pull him close. He could feel the wolf's half-hard prick pressed between them. Lupin's fingers slipped between Snape's thighs, teasing, arousing. Snape wrapped his hand around Lupin's cock, stroking, enjoying the feeling of it growing under his touch. Tendrils of excitement shivered up Snape's spine under Lupin's knowing fingers. Hungry for more, he began guiding Lupin's cock toward his entrance. Needing no further encouragement, the wolf followed his lead, sliding easily into Snape's eager body.

For several long moments, they lay together, wrapped in each other's arms, barely moving except to press into each other as deeply and completely as possible. Somehow, this fueled the flames of desire and passion as no desperate straining ever had. When they finally began to move, it was as if one mind animated their two bodies, one heart beat in their two chests, each breath, each thrust a perfect mirror image of its opposite.

Snape had always thought of sex as a dash toward the finish line. He'd never imagined that he could feel so peaceful, so serene as his nerve endings ignited and flames slowly licked up his body. As their excitement built, inevitably their movements became less restrained, more wild, fanning the fire until it threatened to consume him. Lupin swallowed Snape's inarticulate cries, which mingled with his own, as they reached completion together.

When Snape heard a groan, his eyes flew open in time to see Black lying on his side staring at them, spilling into his fist. Snape wondered how long Black had been watching them, but decided he couldn't be arsed to care.

"Why didn't you lot wake me?" Black asked.

Snape and Lupin exchanged a look. Lupin answered, "You were sleeping so peacefully."

Black raised his eyebrow. "Have you ever known me to choose peaceful sleep over a hot piece of arse?" He smirked.

"Must you be so coarse?" Lupin asked, glancing at Snape.

"What? He's still a bloke, isn't he? Just because he's temporarily got the plumbing doesn't mean he's gone all girly, does it?" He flopped onto his back. "Anyway, watching you two fucking was hot, too." He turned back onto his side and faced them again. "Fucking hot. You were so into it I don't think you even noticed me playing solitaire not a foot away."

Lupin opened his mouth as if to speak, but before he could, Snape drawled, "Of course we noticed. What did you want, a standing ovation?"

Lupin chuckled.

Snape sighed against the werewolf's chest. "You had better go now. It's almost dawn. You need to be back in your rooms before …"

Lupin sighed, too, releasing Snape from his arms. "Let's go, Sirius. Get up." Black rolled out of bed. Lupin cast one last look at Snape before he, too, arose, leaving the enlarged bed feeling suddenly empty.

Lupin and Black moved about the room, gathering up their clothing and dressing quietly. Severus stayed in bed, watching them.

At the door, Lupin turned. "Good night, Severus. Try to get a little more sleep," he said before the two men slipped out into the hallway.

Snape wondered why on earth the wolf bothered to pretend to care about his sleep schedule.

~ o ~

Only a few hours later, Snape once again approached the kitchen at Grimmauld Place in search of tea.

"I wouldn't mind an encore," Black was saying as Snape flung the door open. Standing by the sink, Lupin and Black jumped. "Oh, hullo, Snape," Black said. "We were just talking about you."

The man seemed oblivious to the desperate looks the wolf was shooting at him, presumably trying to shut him up.

"I heard. If you are going to discuss … personal matters … in a public area, you could at least use a privacy charm of some sort, you imbecile." Snape sneered. "What if it had been someone other than me walking in here?"

"Everyone else is in the library already," Lupin said, frowning. "I did try to tell him to be more discreet, but—"

"I see how effective that was," Snape said.

Black grinned. "I would have expected you to be in a better mood this morning, after … everything."

Snape decided to have a little fun. He walked over to where the two men stood, squeezing past them on his way to get a glass from the cupboard over the sink. He made sure to allow his body to graze Black's as he passed. Then he reached over Lupin's head to get the glass, practically thrusting his bosom into the wolf's face. He stood between them, drinking his water, seemingly unaware of their watching him. He had to stifle a chuckle at their obvious reactions; they stared at him as if they were starving and he was the finest filet mignon.

The tea kettle whistled. While Lupin made the tea and Snape made his toast, Black leaned against the counter, staring at Snape. Snape pointedly ignored him. Lupin placed a steaming mug in front of Snape and handed one to Black. Then he took his own mug and sat across the table from Snape. Snape chewed his toast in silence.

Black took the chair next to Lupin, setting his mug on the table with a thump. "I don't get you," he said to Snape. "You don't even seem like the same person we had such a good time with last night."

"Perhaps I'm not the same person," Snape said.

"Oh, but you are," Black said. This time, he cast a privacy charm before he spoke. "You are the same person we fucked last night until you screamed, so don't act all holier than thou with us this morning." Hands on the table, he leaned towards Snape. "We fucked you, and you liked it."

Snape glared at him. "And your point is what exactly? Just because I allowed you to fuck me, as you so eloquently put it, that does not mean I have to like you or converse with you."

"Fine, Snape." Black stood and glared at him. "I take it back. I wouldn't have another go with you if you paid me."

"Oh, what a shame. However shall I make it through the day?" Snape raised one derisive eyebrow.

Black flounced out of the room and slammed the door.

"Severus—" Lupin began, but Snape cut him off.

"I don't have to like you, either, Lupin," he said.

"No, nor I you. But I do," Lupin said. He waited a few moments, but when Snape failed to respond, he rose from the table and walked across the room. At the door, he hesitated as if he might speak, but instead left without a word.

Watching him leave, Snape felt weary to his very soul. Why he had ever thought it a good idea to allow the two men near him, he could not begin to fathom. Meaningless sex was much easier to keep in its proper place when one did not have to face one's partners over the breakfast table, he reminded himself. It had always been so, and he'd always had the sense to know that until now. He wondered if being in this female body was clouding his judgment. But he knew it was less the physical body and more the idea that the two men had been rutting after him like dogs in heat. He couldn't recall ever having been desired like that. Couldn't recall it because it had never happened, he reminded himself.

With a sigh, he shoved his chair back and got to his feet. Nothing for it but to face whatever this day would bring.

~ o ~

Back in his rooms at Hogwarts, Snape wasted no time before pouring himself a drink.

When he'd gone upstairs earlier, he'd found Albus had finally arrived and was interviewing Granger. Mere moments later, with a flick of his wand, Albus had accomplished what no one else had been able to manage, and Snape was restored to his proper physical form. Snape would have felt more bitter if it hadn't been for his benefit.

He hadn't meant to, but somehow Snape had found his eyes drawn towards the wolf, who'd been staring at him rather intently. Snape had jerked his gaze away and left without another word, practically running down the steps and out into the late summer afternoon.

He'd Apparated to Hogsmeade and stopped for a drink at the Hogshead before walking back to the castle.

Though he'd earlier excused himself with the justification that he had work to do, he accomplished very little once he was home. He wandered into the Potions storeroom, but decided inventorying supplies could wait until the morrow. He leafed through the couple of days' accumulated correspondence, then tossed it all on the desk to deal with later.

Finally, he decided to take a shower. He avoided glancing at his reflection on his way into the bath. He turned the water on full force, enjoying the too hot needles of spray prickling his skin. He washed his hair, back now to its usual length where it just grazed his shoulders. His hand trailed over his chest, remembering how it had felt to have those soft, bouncy breasts to play with. He reached down and rubbed soap on his prick and bollocks, enjoying the slippery sensation. Odd to miss something he'd only had so briefly, not that he'd ever admit such a thing to anyone. He stroked his hand up and down his shaft experimentally, but found his heart wasn't in it and turned to rinsing off the soap instead. Then, he turned the hot water down and the cold water up, so cold it made him grit his teeth together to avoid shouting from the initial shock. When his teeth began to chatter from the cold, he shut the water off. At least his body felt gloriously alive for the moment, blood pulsing strongly through his veins.

Stepping out of the shower, he toweled himself dry. Finally, he glanced into the mirror to comb his hair. There it was, his familiar reflection looking back at him. The too big nose, the too sharp chin, the too long neck, the too pale skin. Everything not quite right, adding up to one immensely unappealing package. So much for his brief stint as a somewhat exotic-looking, well-stacked woman. He threw the comb across the room, a thoroughly unsatisfying exercise, as it was far too light and barely made any clatter against the tiles. He picked up the drinking glass from beside the sink and flung that viciously against the wall. With a noisy crash, it shattered into a thousand pieces, and he felt a sharp stab of satisfaction. There, that was much better.

After a moment, with a deep sigh, he flicked his wand and Vanished the broken shards. He pulled on his robe, tying it loosely about his waist. Barefoot, he padded to the cabinet where he kept his Firewhisky and poured himself another drink. He started to put the bottle back, but on second thought, he carried it, along with his full glass, to his favorite chair by the fire and set it on the side table. Just in case.

He sat and took a drink, rolling it around in his mouth before he swallowed, allowing it to penetrate the mucous membrane so it would enter his system more quickly. It burned a path all the way down to his stomach. It wasn't that he wanted to numb the pain; more that he wanted to forget that he was already so numb he couldn't feel a thing. For two days, it had been different—he'd been different—and now he was back to being the git of the dungeons, inhabiting a gray area somewhere between invisible and despised. He drained his glass and set it on the table with a thump, then picked up the bottle to pour another.

A green face appeared in his fire. "Severus, are you there?"

Lupin. "What do you want?" he asked, pouring his drink.

"Can I come through?"

Snape frowned in confusion, glass halfway to his lips. "Why?"

"Because it's bloody uncomfortable kneeling on the hearth, for one thing," the wolf said with a slight grimace.

"Suit yourself." Snape waved his free hand dismissively toward the werewolf and took another swallow.

Lupin stumbled out of the fireplace, wiping the soot off his shabby jacket.

Snape narrowed his eyes. "You'd better be planning to clean that up."

Lupin stared at him, eyes wide with disbelief. "Of course, Severus. We are here at Hogwarts where there are hundreds of house-elves to perform such tasks, but certainly, I'll be happy to clean it up." He sent the ashes and soot back into the Floo.

"What are you doing here, Lupin? I'm tired," Snape said. "Unless it's an emergency, it'll just have to wait until tomorrow." He took another drink. "And even if it's an emergency, I'm not sure I'll be much help."

"Are you drunk?" Lupin asked.

"Not drunk. Not yet. Not exactly sober, though."

"Hmm." Lupin glanced about the room. Spying the bottle next to Snape's chair, he pointed at it. "Might I have a drink?"

"If you must." Snape wished the man would just leave him alone. He rarely allowed himself to indulge his melancholy thoughts, but he sometimes found it necessary, and tonight was just such an occasion.

Lupin conjured a glass, poured himself a measure of the whisky, and downed it in one go, then set the glass on the table.

"Well?" Snape said. "Surely you did not come here merely to deprive me of my Firewhisky."

"No." Lupin paced nervously in front of the fireplace, then halted and turned to face Snape. "I came here because I wanted to see you." His voice cracked, and he cleared his throat. "I thought you might like to continue with our … experiment."

"What …?" The whisky must have affected him more than he'd realized. Snape shook his head to clear it. "You must be joking. You see me. I'm not—I'm … me." He waved his hand in front of him, gesturing at his body.

Lupin moved several steps closer. "I see you." His eyes raked over Snape's scantily clad body, lingering where his robe parted over his chest and again where it fell open slightly, exposing one long leg. "I see you, Severus. I see the same person with whom I spent the last two incredible nights."

Snape had started to pull the robe closed, but at the wolf's words, he halted the motion.

"You are the same person. I'm the same person." Lupin ran his hand through his hair. "I took a chance and came here to see if you … if we … if this—" he gestured between them "—might work." His lips twisted in a tiny, wry grin. "I guess I'm hoping you'll be willing to take a chance, too."

Snape met Lupin's eyes, golden-brown and filled with the same warmth he remembered from their predawn interlude, far warmer than the whisky in the bottle at his elbow.

Snape rose to his feet, not minding about his robe falling open, not minding the way Lupin's gaze eagerly devoured every bit of exposed skin. He stepped forward, heart pounding, closing the slight distance between them. "I find your proposal … agreeable," he said.

Their lips met and Lupin's arms closed around him, the heat from their kisses and caresses banishing the numbness and cold with their sweet fire.