"Memoria Perdita" Fic: NC-17 - Part 2 Title: Memoria Perdita – 2/3 - complete Author: red_day_dawning Pairing: Snape/Lupin Word count: ~7,750 Rating: NC-17 Warning: m/m sex – oral & anal; erotic dreams; some angst Disclaimer: JKR owns the copyrighted HP characters & settings Summary: After being attacked with an unknown curse, Lupin has lost almost all memories from the past few years. What does this mean to those who have learned to love him? And can his memories be recovered? Beta: Many thanks to multi-talented zephre for the brilliant beta-reading, & for the many excellent suggestions helping with structure & adverbs, content & completion. Thanks, zephre. Author’s notes: For Remus Lupin’s birthday on March 10. Dedicated to snapelike in appreciation of the wondrous stories I have so very much enjoyed – dear snapelike, although this cannot even begin to compare to your luscious lyricism, I dedicate this to you in thanks for your wonderful writing, and the great joy I experienced every day in December reading your Advents-fic, The Snow Palace, checking the PC daily with all the enthusiasm I once had opening the little doors of my Oma’s carved wooden Adventskalander.
Memoria Perdita: Part 2
Somehow, installing Remus in his spare bedroom failed to provide Severus with the calm he craved. Hardly a surprising outcome, he thought sourly – between those disturbing nightly dreams and Remus’s continual close proximity, Severus found himself wanking in the bath, and wanking in the shower, and occasionally wanking in the privacy of his potions-laboratory in the middle of the day. Between his over-charged sexual appetite, the lack of sleep and the tumultuous emotions evoked by his dreams, Severus did not feel exactly calm.
Yet, as little as Severus liked to acknowledge it, there was a pleasure and a comfort to be found in Remus’s company: an easy rapport that Severus had missed even more than he had realized. Remus was the one person Severus had ever fully opened up to, and it appeared he was still the only individual Severus could feel at ease with.
Remus gradually learnt more of the events he had lost through curse damage. Together they read the Auror reports Kingsley had provided. Taking his time, Severus cautiously explained the role of the Order of the Phoenix in the fight against Voldemort, Dumbledore’s sacrifice and the role he had played in it, and even Harry Potter’s eventual victory. Seeing Remus accept the events, and accept his dangerous role as a spy among the Death Eaters, never failed to pain Severus. The easy acceptance, the sympathy Remus now expressed for his difficulties playing a double/triple agent, only highlighted the anguish Severus had initially felt when he learned that Remus considered him a traitor.
Severus spent his mornings working in his Potions Laboratory in the basement, preparing potions for his customers’ orders to send to them by Owl. In the afternoons and evenings, he and Remus would read obscure books and esoteric tomes, researching the curse that damaged Remus’s memories. This became an established routine they both seemed to enjoy.
Severus had learnt to expect very little from the world, or to expect little good. Nonetheless, this seemed to be what he craved, the companionship of the person he cared about most in the world, and part of him delighted in it. Another part of him feared that even this would be torn away. They fit together like the missing pieces of a jigsaw puzzle. Severus might snap and snarl, be snarky and irascible; Remus would smile – and leave him alone when he wanted to be left alone, and talk engagingly when he craved conversation. And when Severus found he was craving company, Remus would sit next to him on the sofa, the only sounds breaking the silence the rustle of pages turning and the crackle of the fire, their thighs and shoulders occasionally touching, both engrossed in their books. Severus found himself exhilarated by each and every fleeting touch. His own body’s response, the way his breath quickened and his heart leapt, infuriated him. It was enough to drive anyone insane, Severus gloomily reflected. And would it ever change? At least their research was beginning to uncover much forgotten knowledge – the trick would be gleaning the useful information from the dross.
“Severus.”
“Mmm, what?” Severus replied, half-drowsy from the warmth of the fire and the comfort of Remus pressed next to him on the sofa.
“What if you placed some of your memories in a pensieve and we looked at them together?”
“What?” Severus’s heart thudded in alarm. No, no, no… Forcing himself to breathe slowly, he sneered, “Is your brain damaged after all, Lupin? Does your impatience override all common sense? The healer emphatically said you could suffer further damage if your memories were forced…”
“But if you were to extract a memory, a particularly strong memory of something we did together, we could explore it together. It wouldn’t be forcing anything – we’d merely be watching it in the pensieve – and if evoked something in me, well and good, and if it didn’t, there would be no harm done.”
Standing up, Severus snarled, “I’m not letting you into my memories to poke around for your pleasure, Lupin.”
Lupin looked up at him, his face both sad and serious. “I have no wish to invade your privacy – you must know that. Surely we’ve come to trust each other in recent years Severus, no matter what happened long ago at school. I believe we’re friends now – I know I’ve come to value you greatly and I trust you more than anyone… I have come to care for you, and I hoped… well, that’s not the point,” he said heavily. “But I thought watching some intimate memory we share might help me recover my own memory.”
“More intimate than you eating me for supper, Lupin? Because that’s my strongest memory of you – you trying to eat me in the shrieking shack… would you like to share that intimacy with me?” Severus spat.
“Severus.”
“Get away from me, werewolf,” Severus snarled, and frankly fled, racing up the stairs to the refuge of his bedroom.
Slamming his door shut, he sat heavily onto his mattress, leaning his face into his hands. Oh gods, oh gods… what had he done? What had he said? He should not have reacted so strongly. He sat there on his bed motionless, long after the sounds of Remus preparing for sleep had stilled. There was no sleep for him that night.
Descending the stairs in the morning, Severus found that Remus was already awake. “There’s freshly-made tea, Severus,” Remus quietly said, not lifting his eyes from the newspaper he was reading.
“Thank you.”
Quietly drinking his tea, Severus surreptitiously watched the other man turning the pages of the paper. Remus looked up, his eyes meeting his own directly.
“I spoke harshly last night, Lupin, more harshly than I had intended. I wish to apologize.”
Lupin nodded. “I’m sorry I upset you so – I do know you’re a very private person.”
The silence settled thickly between them, an uncomfortable tension.
Severus sighed, and said heavily, “I cannot explain myself to you, Lupin. But I can’t… I cannot…”
“That’s alright, Severus. I’m sorry I brought it up. I won’t mention it again.”
“Thank you.”
Pouring himself another cup of tea, Severus said, “I’ve been thinking of some of the older, volumes of dark magic Potter still has, in the Black library at Grimmauld Place. I thought I might ask him if I could borrow some of the books, so that we could investigate the darker, ancient curses.” “That’s a great idea. Some of those books contain arcane knowledge found no-where else. I’m sure Harry would agree to let you borrow the books.”
“Indeed. I will return later in the day, after consulting Potter. Or… would you like to come along also, Lupin?”
“Thank you, Severus,” Remus replied, smiling brightly for the first time that day. “I’d like that very much. Just let me fetch my jacket,” he called, already bounding eagerly up the stairs.
Severus sat at the table, waiting for his return, his expression bleak and resigned. Hope and fear, despair and loss, and sorrow, all weighed heavily upon him.
It was actually Remus who stumbled over the clue – literally. He and Severus were sitting together on the sofa, books in their laps, their thighs and shoulders lightly shifting against each other. Severus had not turned his page for some minutes, his attention was fixed on surreptitiously watching Remus: observing the way his long wavy hair hung over his face, silky silver streaks gleaming in the firelight; the way his lips moved slightly apart when concentrating. Remus looked up from the page he was perusing, and slowly smiled, his honey-gold eyes glowing as they met Severus’s gaze.
“Severus,” he said hesitantly, and then passing his tongue lightly over his lips, he repeated, “Severus,” his voice husky and low.
Mesmerized, Severus simply stared at the other man, unable to act or speak, frozen in place by the strength of his longing and the enormity of his fears, paralyzed by the beauty of those golden eyes.
He felt himself drawing closer to Remus, as though their locked gazes exerted a tangible magnetic force.
Anger came to Severus’s rescue – sudden fury as he recalled that this man did not share his longings, and that even if he did, it would not last. Dumbledore’s death had proved that. Anger pounding through his veins, Severus felt his jaws clench and his eyes began to burn and glitter.
Looking suddenly surprised, Remus shifted awkwardly, and clumsily knocked his book to the floor. Stumbling slightly as he picked the book up, Remus stared in astonishment at the page it had opened on.
“This curse here has effects that describe my symptoms exactly,” Remus exclaimed.
“Let me see,” Severus demanded, imperiously reaching his hand for the book.
Remus handed him the volume and sat next to him again.
“Memoria Perdita,” Severus read out aloud. “Memory Lost. Yes, you’re right, Lupin, the symptoms match exactly.” Tapping his forefinger against his lips thoughtfully, Severus mused out loud, “No counter-curse described, hmm, but some improvement can be achieved with the Memoriola Remedy, hmm, yes, I think I can work on improving that… I have the ingredients in stock…” and he rose and walked downstairs to his Potions Laboratory, still reading the book and muttering quietly to himself. Severus worked into the night, without stopping for an evening meal. When Remus called out that dinner was prepared, Severus’s shouted response was that he would eat later. One of Severus’s intellectual gifts was the capacity for concentrated focus; and one of his personal coping strategies was emotional avoidance. The combination of the two kept him working on Remus’s remedy long after the werewolf went to bed.
~*~
Severus lay with Remus asleep in his arms. He buried his nose in Remus’s hair, breathing in the scent of him, the joy, the comfort of lying with him. Gently he began to kiss the side of his throat, his jaw-line, his mouth, until Remus finally woke up, love, lust and longing shining in his amber eyes.
~*~
Severus woke up his throat closed, scarcely able to breathe through his longing. His bed felt cold and empty; he experienced the absence of the one who belonged there as an actual physical pain, a hollow emptiness that hurt. Blinking away the stinging in his eyes, he pulled himself out of bed. Enough! he thought, wrapping his dressing-gown around him, determined to go downstairs and work on the potion formula again.
~*~
Severus studied the full vial with satisfaction. He had worked long and hard on modifying the existing formula, and believed this remedy had a good chance of success. Even if it could not provide Remus with a miraculous recovery of his lost memories, observing its effect upon Remus would help him successfully adapt it further.
Now was the time to deliver the remedy to Remus, and watch its effects – and with that thought Severus suddenly sunk to the chair, still staring at the vial he held. What would happen when he delivered the potion to Remus and it did successfully restore his memories, Severus wondered. Would Remus hate him again, see him as the murderer and betrayer of Dumbledore and the Order? Severus did not think he could bear to return to that. Remus would remember that Severus had never told him what Dumbledore had asked him to do, and he would recall that Severus had not contacted him afterwards. He very likely would hate Severus, and that would destroy the easy companionship between them. And even though Severus could not deny that their friendship did not satisfy his longings, at least they were living together. Perhaps Remus would even wish to return to the pink-haired slut? Anything was possible – or almost anything; the one outcome not possible was that Remus would long for him, desire him and … care for him, as he did Remus.
Without the remedy, Remus would continue living with him, and one day, perhaps eventually … and with that thought, Severus instantly knew what he must do.
He cared far too much for Remus to allow him to continue living with curse damage, regardless of the consequences to himself. And there was no guarantee that the curse damage might not affect Remus’s memory in the future. Severus could not allow himself to be the individual who withheld the cure from Remus. If offering the cure to Remus meant he lost Remus, then he would simply have to accept that. He would not deny the man he … loved this remedy.
Having ascertained that Remus was indeed asleep in the spare room, Severus gathered some clothes and a few other essentials, shrinking them and adding them to the shrunken books in his bag. Downstairs, he made certain that the potion and his message for Remus were prominently displayed in the centre of the kitchen table. Checking that all was as he had planned, he locked the door behind him and apparated to the gates of Hogwarts.
I have no idea about Latin word order or sentence structure – the Latin words are from the English to Latin Dictionary at http://www.archives.nd.edu/cgi-bin/lookdown.pl memoria - memory , the capacity for remembering, remembrance; record of the past, tradition, history. memoriola - memory. I am grateful to the kind people at LiveJournal’s little_details who helped me create the curse name: “memoria perdita”.