Happy Valentine's Day, snegurochka_lee! (Part 2)
[This is part 2 of a 2 part fic. Read Part 1 here.]
-::- 1996-97 -::- -::- one -::-
"It's getting worse, isn't it?" Severus looked up from his newspaper as the other chair at his table pulled out and a particularly stupid cousin of the Carrows sat down.
"The weather? The Muggles are running scared and Scrimgeour can't find his arse with both hands and a self-lighting torch," Nymphadora said. She was wearing the broad nondescript features and dull brown hair of the imbecile in question, a young woman who would reliably say certainly she'd seen Severus today, if asked; her resistance to memory interference via Legilimency was less than none. Still, he'd had to ask the question and get the correct response, just in case; his position was increasingly precarious and he was reduced to this sort of contact in dingy London pubs, with Albus both ill and so frequently gone.
"I'd heard." He folded his paper over and set it down, then chatted about nothing of consequence for several minutes, offering his napkin when she jostled her drink. He wasn't sure whether this bit of clumsiness was a part of the act or merely convenient, but when the napkin returned, it was with a folded parchment. He made his excuses and stood, leaving his newspaper on the table, still folded, for her to take when she left.
He didn't open the note until he was safely back in Hogsmeade, in the room he'd sometimes used before above Aberforth's pub. He was surprised that the words were written in Lupin's hand.
Well. Not surprised, perhaps; it made sense that he'd have details to pass along from his interactions with the werewolves--in fact, discussion of Greyback's location and intentions were on the second page. Still, he hadn't seen the man since the wee hours of the morning after the night of Black's death, and had concluded that whatever twisted and unhealthy relationship they'd had, for the past twenty years, it had died then as well.
Too bad; his soppy Gryffindor reasons had been, much as he'd never say it aloud, sound ones, and he'd hoped to maintain the only relatively positive physical association he'd had since… ever.
He lay back on the bed to read the note, taking advantage of an evening with no plans in particular to read the more slowly than he otherwise might. He was startled when, five minutes after he'd arrived, there was a knock at the door.
He sat upright quickly, hoping irrationally that his thoughts of a moment earlier had been answered by the cosmos and it would be Lupin. Or, he amended after a moment because he wasn't willing to leave it at that, someone else from whom he might get what he needed.
It was only Aberforth, bringing up supper.
Severus took the food and ate it, beginning mechanically: soup with a deep spoon and bread with heavy brown crusts, still hot from the oven. Aberforth, despite the appearance of his business, was a decent cook, and the food was satisfying if not especially sophisticated, so after the first few bites, his enthusiasm grew.
He sopped up the last of the broth with his second thick slice of bread, and took the lid off the plate that held the pudding.
It was chocolate cake. He shook his head and recovered it, then pushed the tray aside and returned to the bed, wondering whether the reminder was deliberate.
Aberforth was related to Albus, so he thought the odds better than even, it was.
Meddling old fools.
He reread the parchment and committed it to memory, then rendered it to ash with a flick of his wand and a puff of flame.
Perhaps he should eat the cake.
-::- two -::-
Tonks returned to 12 Grimmauld Place, tired and gray, from another meeting with Severus, and Remus sighed. She didn't like delivering the post back and forth, for which he couldn’t blame her; Severus was evidently angrier each time, and remaining in a particular form, one that wasn't born of her own imagination, was trying for her.
"Anything new?"
She shook her head and handed over the newspaper, then flopped down into the chair, her hair listlessly brightening from dull brown to something that might charitably be called mud pink. "He's a bastard," she said. "A bastard and I don't trust him."
"I know." Remus unfolded the paper and glanced over the contents. "But with Albus so ill--Severus thinks his mind is becoming clouded, and I have to say, when I last saw him, I had the same thought--someone has to keep things in order, if we're to have a chance. If Harry's to have a chance." He set aside the parchment that had been folded inside the news, and moved forward behind Tonks's chair to reach over the top and rub her shoulders.
He arched her back and looked up at him upside down. "Doing her is depressing. Why are there no other Metamorph Aurors again? Honestly, doesn't it seem there should be recruitment efforts?"
He chuckled. "Well, I suppose it would be a convenient talent, but then, by that logic, Sirius…" he broke off, then shook his head ruefully. "…would have been a terrible Auror, but at least he'd have been good at tracking people down."
She pulled her chin back down to a normal posture, then dropped it forward as he continued to drag his thumbs down the back on her neck and out toward her shoulders. "Feels good." Her hair brightened slightly as she relaxed, and eventually, he came around and dropped into the couch opposite her.
"It's killing you, isn't it? Everything you've got going on this year."
"Nah. I'm a big bad Auror, love. Nothing could be, right?" She wrinkled her nose at him, the looked ruefully up at her auburn fringe. "Or maybe a little. Still, we all do what we have to do, right? Can't not."
"Can't not," he agreed. "Maybe in the summer things will be better."
"Maybe." She rocked forward to stand, then joined him on the couch, leaning against him easily. "I'm starting to think I'll never live in a time without a war on, you know?"
"I know," he said dryly. "I'm enough older than you to remember the last one depressingly well."
"That's because you're ancient," she teased.
"Quite. Old, gray, poor…"
"It's a sign of having survived."
"Yes. Quite the badge of honor," he said. He looked down at her. "I suppose it's better than the alternative; still, I'd rather have a nice, quiet life, with no war, no betrayal, and no damn spies." He was surprised how bitter he felt, saying that, but he forced a smile. He was trying to make her feel better, after all; she was too young for this shit.
She grinned back, then held up a hand and Summoned a bottle of whisky from the cabinet. He caught it before it reached her, rather than hoping she wouldn’t drop it, and handed it to her. She twisted off the lid, then clinked the bottle against nothing in the air. "Here's to surviving to become ancient." She took a drink, then handed the bottle back.
Why not? He drank as well, then added, "And to life beyond the war." He took another long draw, and so did she.
"And not being gray."
"Don't think I can change that."
"Yeah, but one day, I'll be able to." She looked up at her fringe again. "When things are less fucked up."
-::- three -::-
"That was what you meant, wasn't it?"
Severus spun, horrified at the lapse to his attention that had led to him not being aware there was someone in the room as he came in, bags and parcels in his hands. Lupin was in the corner of his sitting room, tucked deep in the battered wing chair. He quickly recovered and nodded. "I beg your pardon?"
"You said, once, that you believed you would lose people who meant as much to you as Sirius did to me."
"Albus was hardly my partner in crime." Severus bit his tongue against asking how the hell Lupin knew where he lived; the house was Disillusioned, so a searcher wouldn’t find it at a casual glance, and Unplottable, so they wouldn’t find it magically, either, which only left those who knew where it was and intended to see it. He supposed perhaps at some point Black had mentioned seeing him in the neighborhood, or Potter had. Or, come to that, Lily, though that would have surprised him, for reasons he didn't care to dwell on.
He'd considered flight, in the days after he and Draco had first arrived here, but the place had had the advantage of familiarity and obscurity, and when two weeks had passed and there had been no sign of uninvited guests, he'd concluded the contingent that urgently hoped for his messy death didn't know where to find him. He'd relaxed. Perhaps he ought not to have done.
"No, but he was important to you."
Severus scowled. "He was important to our cause, and--"
"And somehow, your actions were compelled."
"None of which explains what you are doing here."
Lupin pursed his lips. "It might. It doesn't explain why I'm not killing you for being in too bloody deep that you have to kill the man who has been the caretaker of so many of us."
"Is that what you think? Benevolent caretaker?"
"I didn't say benevolent. But he took care of you, Severus. And me. And, I suppose, Harry."
Severus snorted. "Took care of is one way to put it." He paused. "But yes, I suppose you've made a correct assumption."
"Are you all right?"
"Do I have a choice?"
"Well. Not a good one."
"This, Lupin is the story of my life."
"Yes, and there are others who could say the same, but you didn't answer my question."
Severus sighed. "All right is a relative concept. I am no more all right than I was when my father banned the use of magic in this house. I am no less all right than I was when Evans… Never mind."
"So, miserable, then, but going on with it."
"So, yes. I did answer your question."
"After a manner of speaking, I suppose."
"What are you doing here, Lupin?" Severus considered going into the kitchen to put away his groceries, but he hadn't seen this man in over a year, and wasn't sure he wouldn't kill him while his back was turned, despite his words. "Surely you haven't come for another comfort fuck? Bit late for it, and I suppose you've other friends filling that slot now."
"Looking to you for comfort would be an exercise in futility."
Somehow, that statement made Severus feel more secure. He shrugged and went to put away his groceries. Lupin followed him into the kitchen, and Severus handed him the tea and pointed to the cabinet, then sorted out the rest of his consumables from potions ingredients. "So, you thought you'd wait several weeks after the funeral and then come check on me?"
Lupin shook his head. "Not really."
"News to pass along?"
"Some. Nothing I couldn't have sent the usual way."
Severus finished stashing paper bundles in the cracked cabinets and turned, leaning back against the counter, arms folded over his chest. "I've never been much for games, Lupin. If you want me to keep guessing, you're going to have to provide a considerably better incentive." He widened his feet and glanced pointedly at the floor between them. Lupin's tongue came out to moisten his lips, and Severus watched him evenly for a moment, then glanced at the floor again.
"I…" Lupin bit his lip, then stepped forward and knelt. "I didn't come here for this," he said as he unbuttoned and fumbled with Severus's robe. His nostrils flared as he uncovered Severus's cock, and he reached, focused greedily on his prize. He licked his lips again, wetting them, and leaned forward.
Severus groaned as his cock slid into the wet warmth of Lupin's mouth. He hadn't wanted to miss sex, but after a year--no, fourteen months, he couldn't help correcting himself--of calling up the images in his mind as he stroked himself in the dark, he'd forgotten just how good it felt when someone else's hands and tongue were there, just there. "You came for tea, then?"
Lupin looked up, eyebrows raised.
"I'm continuing to guess. You used to be entertained when I maintained my train of thought while you nosed about my crotch like an ill-mannered dog in your boyfriend's kitchen."
"No," Lupin said. "Not tea." He took Severus's cock back into his mouth for one more good slurp, then rocked back onto his heels and stood. His wand was out, and Severus only had time for an instant of panic once again at how fast he could move, and then they were both naked and Lupin was back down on the floor, dragging Severus down on top of him. "Fuck me."
Severus felt for his wand, or either wand, to cast the spells, but Lupin caught his hand. "No, just fuck me." He spread his legs wide, knees up, reaching down to pull his cheeks apart as though to make his meaning clear. "Shove your cock into me and make me come. Fuck me."
It was a clear enough direction, and Severus was more than ready, so he didn't argue. He pressed forward against the resistance and in, and irrelevantly wondered how exactly he'd forgotten this was also better than his own hand, and then he stopped thinking, ramming home again and again. "Like this? Is this what you wanted?"
"Fuck, yes. Don't stop." Lupin was all but ignoring him, thrashing on the floor and jerking his cock fiercely until he came, splashing stripes and drops up over his chest and onto his chin. "Keep fucking me," he said, voice tight.
Severus guessed he was feeling some pain, now that he'd already come, but that thought only made him more inclined to comply. He pumped harder, gripping Lupin's knees and forcing them wide as he watched him wince. "What brought this on?" he asked. He was close, so close, and he dug his fingers into the backs of Lupin's thighs. "What made you so desperate?"
Lupin caught his breath and hooked his heels around Severus's hips, rocking up, not answering. Instead, he ran his fingers through the mess on his chest and slid them into his mouth, and Severus groaned, forcing himself as deep as possible as he came.
He dropped down flat, breathing heavily, bruised kneecaps throbbing, cock slowly softening.
"Tonks is pregnant," Lupin said a moment later. "We're getting married Saturday."
Severus felt cold. He raised up on his hands, grimacing as chest hairs pulled from the drying come, then pulled out of Lupin and Summoned his robes. He looked down at Lupin, sprawled naked on his kitchen floor. "Why are you telling me?"
"Well. We just fucked. I thought--"
"You thought you have another of the eminently and persistently fucked-up Blacks on the other end of your dick again, and you might as well go back to this, as well? You might have mentioned. Thought if you think I'm going to fuck her too, just to complete the parallel, you're wrong."
"It wasn't like that."
"No? Just a coincidence, then, that you decided the way to deal with your news was to have me fuck you bloody." Severus sighed and pointed his wand at the fireplace to kindle a flame. The chill in his body was only getting worse. "Get out."
Lupin stared up at him. "I didn't mean…"
"It was just a fuck. Now, I'm tired. Get out."
Lupin stood and located his trousers, limping slightly. Severus blatantly watched as he painfully raised one leg, then the other, to put them on. "Oh. They're moving Harry early."
Severus nodded, checked the date, and waited for Lupin to leave.
-::- epilogue -::-
Severus crossed his arms and leaned against the wall--not that there was a wall; it was more a moderately-peopled endless bright expanse of no color at all, with a wall he knew was there, which had no physical characteristics whatsoever.
He looked to the left, at two women arguing.
He looked to the right, at familiar redheads laughing as a short woman in purple scowled. He blinked. Oh.
Oh.
Those were the Prewett boys, which implied… he straightened up, pulling his weight off the wall in startlement.
He knew he had died; this had been apparent because having one's carotid artery punctured by a large snake, regardless of one's cleverness and preparations, was almost certainly unsurvivable. However, he hadn't quite, until just this moment, connected that this meant he was dead.
Well. That was an odd failure, and one he couldn’t explain.
He settled back against the wall to consider, affecting a pose of boredom as he took in his surroundings afresh. Everyone here was young--twenty, perhaps, or twenty-two. If he looked carefully, accounting for age, knew nearly everyone around him, though certainly not everyone he knew was here. He considered this for a moment; it implied some sort of arrangement of the dead which would require both location and time, as well as some means of sorting by honorable intentions, to accomplish. He glanced up into the endless white, wondering whether such a grid required three dimensions.
Not that there would have to be dimensions, if there could be nonexistent bright walls and incompatible ages and prank-playing twins that had been dead twenty years right next to a man who'd been dead five--fifteen? thirty?--minutes.
Well.
He took his time here, looking at everyone he could see, wondering whether it might be possible to cause someone he expected to be here to come into view.
After all, if he was going to be dead, and yet have consciousness, he might as well find something to do.
He estimated it was twenty minutes before he found someone interesting. He snorted. Minutes were likely meaningless here. And yet, it had felt like twenty. He straightened up again, still chuckling quietly, and started walking toward the figure in the distance. Black had been here for quite some time, but as he was sitting alone on a non-existent bench to the possible south, elbows on his knees, hair hanging over his face, perhaps he'd be willing to provide a distraction. Certainly few of Severus's other acquaintances were in this place, and even though Severus was still awkward with others, he thought they had things to talk about.
And then Black shifted and opened his mouth to speak.
To Lupin.
Who was here now as well, on the far side of Black.
Severus could hear them, but not clearly understand them, and his steps slowed despite that he intended to move closer to both of them.
The pair got up before he could make any more progress toward them and walked off together, saying something that seemed to be about helping Harry, both seeming serious but never the less light. Severus took another step--after all, helping Harry Potter had been his goal for a long time--but found he remained standing in place too far away as they vanished together.
He made his way slowly to the bench that wasn't, and found himself a seat.