Fic: And Sometimes Darkness, part 12, SS/RL, R
Title: And Sometimes Darkness Author/Artist: undun Rating: mature/adult content, R Pairing(s)/character(s): Remus Lupin, Severus Snape, Nymphadora Tonks, Harry et al. Summary: After the War against the Dark Lord, some are left behind. Not forgotten by everyone, as Severus Snape finds out. Disclaimer: Not-for-profit fan creation. Warnings: I hate warnings. There may be unpleasant stuff in here. There, that’s it. Anything else would be a spoiler. Notes: A story that didn’t begin its life as an AU, but is now certainly in that category. Words: 3083
Extra Note: Erm, crash hats? Harnesses? Smelling salts? All good? Right, deep breath, everyone!
Remus woke up in a bed. It was his bed by the feel of it, but with some subtle difference. After a few fuzzy seconds of trying to figure out what was different, he decided that it wasn’t really worth worrying about it and fell asleep.
He woke up again. This time he opened his eyes – or at least, he opened one eye; the other one wasn’t obeying him. The light was dim and he could just make out the shape of someone in a chair nearby.
He said, “Severus?”
The shape stirred and resolved itself into Harry.
“You’re awake.”
Harry’s hand touched his shoulder briefly, a barely-there touch that might be used to stroke fine china.
Right. The Auror I left for dead cursed me. Remus had turned his back on a foe before checking that he was incapacitated: a tactical oversight that could have cost him his life.
I must be a mess… Fuck! Severus!
“Where’s Severus?” Remus rasped out, fighting a surge of panic.
“He’s safe, Remus. He’s fine. You don’t have to worry about him anymore,” Harry replied.
Remus could tell that Harry wasn’t exactly lying, but there was something distinctly off about his answer. His mind was buzzing with questions, but first–
“I’m thirsty,” he rasped.
“I’ll get you a drink. Just a minute,” Harry said before walking out of the room.
Idly Remus peered around at the dim room. He was in his bed, his original version of the bed, the two halves reunited once more. He wondered if his transfiguration had failed for some reason, but he abandoned further speculation when Harry came back into the room, trailing an entourage of people, one of whom bustled to his side and started waving a wand over his supine form.
“Poppy? What are you..?” he began. Then Harry held out a glass of water with a straw and he concentrated on slaking his thirst.
“I came as soon as I could, Remus dear. I’m so sorry I couldn’t do more for you,” she answered. “You’ve healed well in any case. That metabolism is good for something, hm?” She smiled sadly at him.
He was starting to get uneasy. Yes, he’d been injured, but why did everyone look as though someone had died?
“Where’s Severus?” he asked with renewed suspicion. He reached up to bat away the glass Harry was holding near his mouth, but his hand never connected.
His hand…
His hand wasn’t there anymore.
Remus stared dumbfounded at the space where his right hand used to be. The people around his bedside fell silent.
“Remus, I’m so sorry I couldn’t save your hand. Severus said that it was completely amputated while you were changed. When the moon set and you assumed your human form, it didn’t change with you.”
It might have been Poppy speaking, but Remus wasn’t really listening. He had no hand. Slowly, a new horror took root in his mind.
“Severus!” he shouted, or tried to – it was more of a strangled screech.
“I’m right here, you uncouth beast.”
His eyes were pitched at the wrong level, and so he hadn’t observed Severus’ entry.
“Severus?”
Severus strode over to the chair recently vacated by Harry and sat down gracefully.
“I’m quite all right, as you can see. Unlike your foolhardy self,” Severus commented, sounding in every way like Remus’ cherished memories of Snape before his imprisonment.
Remus stared down at Severus’ legs, or rather the outline of them showing beneath the fabric of his dark robes.
“How?” He seemed incapable of complete sentences.
“A somewhat Dark spell, I’m afraid – I used the blood from your alternate form,” Severus supplied.
“My blood. Werewolf blood.”
“Yes, I was in rather a hurry. You were bleeding out on the floor and I needed to get to the floo to summon help. Necessity, as the Muggles say, is the mother of invention.”
“You used a Dark spell to counter a Dark curse. Why didn’t we think of that earlier?” Remus wondered aloud.
Severus smirked at him. “I must have been influenced by the company of too many Gryffindors; I fear I rather forgot my forte.”
“You should get some more sleep now, Remus,” Poppy interrupted, gazing at her wand with a frown, “Your temperature has just started to rise and I think all this talking is exhausting you.”
Remus was tired, but he was reluctant to cut short his conversation with Severus. He felt an elation that he feared might be short-lived. The tall form of Kingsley Shacklebolt loomed in the doorway, and the smile sent in Remus’ direction looked forced. Remus knew that he might yet be imprisoned for attacking the Auror who had struck him down. Remus was a werewolf, and self-defence was no defence when a human had been bitten.
“She’s right of course. You should get some more rest,” Severus said. He touched his shoulder, a firm press rather than the timid gesture that Harry had made.
“Is he alive?”
Severus seemed to follow Remus’ uneven train of thought without any trouble.
“Your attacker has expired. Which is better than the coward deserved, in my opinion,” he replied, his jaw tense.
So, Remus would be charged with murder, not Turning. It was hard to know whether that would be any advantage legally. Remus watched as Poppy poured potion into goblet on the side table.
“Will you be staying on?” he asked with some anxiety. Now that Severus was mobile and independent of Remus there was nothing to keep him from leaving. Poppy leaned over and tucked a hand under his shoulders, tipping the goblet towards his mouth. Remus wrinkled his nose at the smell but dutifully swallowed a mouthful.
Severus hesitated then replied, “I will stay until you are recovered.” He looked over at Shacklebolt and added with a tilt on one side of his mouth, “Perhaps I can keep the real wolves from the door.”
Remus smiled back at him and nodded. Slowly the room emptied of people, and he stopped resisting the urge to close his one good eye and sink into unconsciousness.
~~~^~~~
His nose itched and sleepily he brought his hand up to scratch, bumping his stump against his chin. That woke him up. He moaned in pain – the bandage hadn’t quite cushioned the still-raw nerves where his hand had been cut off, and his painease potion had obviously worn off.
“Remus, are you okay?”
It was Harry, at his bedside again. Remus opened his eye and swivelled his head until he could see him. He realised that he hadn’t actually asked Poppy whether his other eye would ever recover vision.
One step at a time…
“Hello again,” Remus croaked.
“Hi,” Harry responded with a crooked smile.
Remus thought he looked a little sad, but he couldn’t spare much time to ponder it – he really had to take a piss.
“I need to get up,” he announced, lifting the bedcovers awkwardly with his left hand.
“Wait, slow down – I’ll help you.”
He wasn’t going to refuse assistance; as soon as he sat up the room whirled as if he was performing an impromptu Wronski Feint. He held his hand out and Harry grasped it firmly, helping him upright. Remus stood, gripping Harry’s shoulder convulsively while he waited for the dizziness to abate.
“Bathroom,” he finally grunted with the urgent prompting of his bladder.
“Let me get your dressing gown,” Harry said, placing Remus’ hand on the bedpost for support while he scrambled to get the gown and place it around his shoulders.
Oh, right – no clothes.
He shrugged into the sleeves without too much trouble and, using Harry as a walking frame, made his way to the bathroom.
“Leave the door open – I’ll wait here in case you need me,” the boy said while Remus tottered inside to relieve himself.
And what a blissful relief it was. He flushed the loo and took a moment to appraise his appearance in the mirror above the basin.
“You, mate, look like you’ve been in a war,” he muttered to the ramshackle creature he saw staring back at him. Not for the first time, he was thankful for his non-responsive Muggle mirror.
“Remus?”
Harry was still waiting outside the door.
“I’m alright,” he called back. “Just going to brush my teeth while I’m in here.”
Someone – Poppy, or even Severus – had cleaned the blood off his skin, but he needed to remove all traces of the Auror’s blood and skin from his mouth himself. Just the thought of that sweet taste filling his senses made him want to retch. He filled his brush with toothpaste by holding the handle in his teeth while he squeezed the tube, but then he had to grasp it with his left hand to use it.
He’d never been the slightest bit ambidextrous, unfortunately, so he stumbled through the process with scraped gums and gouged cheeks; it would take some getting used to. He wondered if he would ever be able to tolerate a prosthetic hand. Unlikely, given that he changed form once a month. He sighed and dragged a comb through his hair. Appraising his reflection in the mirror once more, he saw very little improvement. A shave would have to wait.
“Remus?”
“Coming, Harry,” he called, steadying himself against the wall as he left the bathroom.
“Here, let me tie this up,” Harry said, snatching at the cord on his dressing gown and folding the front lapels neatly underneath as he knotted it.
“Thank you,” Remus said, smiling down at Harry’s bent head. “You’re very kind.”
That earned him muffled snort.
“It’s the least I can bloody do, Remus,” the boy said, straightening up to stare into Remus’ eyes with an intensity that surprised him. “I’ll help you back to bed now,” Harry added.
“Actually, I’ll need to phone work,” Remus said, turning for the kitchen. Although he had no idea what he was going to tell them; were there any provisions for disabled security guards? Or maybe he’d just say he was taking extended leave. For roughly the next hundred years.
“Is it cordless? I’ll bring you the phone.”
“Yes, it’s a mobile. In the kitchen.”
The floor was starting to seem an awfully long way away again. He leant against the wall while Harry peered worriedly into his face. Before Harry started asking him how he was feeling Remus asked, “Where’s Severus?”
“He’s in the kitchen making dinner.”
“Oh. I’d like to see him.”
“Then I’ll bring him and the phone,” Harry assured him. “Come on, back to bed before you fall over and I have to levitate you – I’m not that accurate and I’m sure I’d run your head into a chimney or something.”
“Yes,” Remus agreed weakly, feeling his knees starting to shake. It was the usual post-Change weakness magnified ten times. By the time he reached his bed he was mostly supported by the arm he’d slung around Harry’s neck. He lay back against the pillows with relief. He trembled from head to toe.
“I’ll see if there’s any more of the painease potion,” Harry said.
He left the room as Remus watched through his half-closed eye. He felt like shite, but he couldn’t separate the sensations enough to work out whether it was from his injuries or the Change. His head throbbed and he was thirsty beyond all measure.
His eye flew open at the cool touch on his forehead – he hadn’t been aware of dozing off.
“He has a fever. Get a large bowl of tepid water and a cloth.”
“Okay.”
“Who put this bloody great gown on you, as if I didn’t know,” Severus sniped as he manhandled Remus out of his dressing gown and laid him back against the pillows.
“Severus,” Remus breathed, feeling particularly pathetic. “Sorry about this.”
“Sorry for what; saving my arse? Apology very much not accepted, you stupid man.”
“No.” Remus frowned, trying to make sense of both what he was saying and what Severus was saying. “No,” he repeated. “I mean being ill. Taking up your time.”
“Yes, well, never mind that – I find I have a gap in my schedule at this point and can well spare you the time,” Severus responded with a slight curl at the corner of his mouth. “Now, drink this,” he instructed, placing a hand behind Remus’ head and holding a cup up to his lips.
Remus did as he was told. He was parched and the liquid was cool and refreshing. Perversely, he began to shiver.
“Cold.”
“It’s the fever. The potion will help in a moment,” Severus reassured him, stroking his fingers along Remus’ forehead.
Remus’ teeth began to chatter.
“Here you go, Professor,” Harry said as he placed a bowl on the dressing table nearby.
“Good. You can go, Potter.”
“You don’t need any help to–”
“Not at present, thank you. I will floo you later in the evening if you wish an update.”
Remus frowned. Severus’ voice sounded a little stilted. Now Remus felt unaccountably hot,.
“Yes. Yes, that would be appreciated. Thanks, Professor.”
Harry sounded equally unnatural to Remus’ ears.
“Bye, Harry,” he rasped out, turning to train his eye on the boy. “Thanks for everything.”
“Um, no problem, Remus.” The boy smiled at him. “I’ll pop by tomorrow, yeah?”
“Yes. See you then,” Remus confirmed.
Harry left the room and Remus heard the front door close behind him a minute later. The whole encounter seemed odd to Remus, as if he was looking in through a window from outside – though he had to admit that he wasn’t the most reliable witness at present. Severus pulled the bedclothes away from Remus’ body saying, “You shouldn’t encourage him, you know.”
Remus gasped at the air hitting his skin. “What?”
Severus wrung out the cloth in the bowl and began sponging his legs.
“That boy is infatuated with you,” Severus elucidated.
“What?” Remus really needed to understand what had just been said… but he couldn’t wrap his mind around it.
Severus held the cloth, dripping, over Remus’ stomach while he glared down at him. “He wants you, you cretin. He probably imagines that he’s in love with you!”
Oh.
Severus slapped the cloth down on his stomach and glared at it.
Remus felt the urge to laugh. Harry couldn’t possibly want him! The idea was ridiculous, but… it did make sense of so many little things that had been bothering Remus about the boy. A huff of disbelief escaped him.
Severus glanced at his face and made a disgruntled sound.
Remus fought down a strong impulse to giggle hysterically. It was too much; the man Remus found desirable was complaining about the fact that someone else desired Remus.
Severus finally resumed giving him a sponge bath. Remus suddenly realised what was going to happen the very moment it started to happen – he wasn’t the quickest broom off the ground today.
“Severus,” Remus began in a strangled voice, up an octave from usual.
“Yes?”
“No more, please?” he begged, drawing his left hand over to cover his cock – the cock that had filled and lifted with more speed than it had any right to when he was so battered and unwell.
There was a long silence. The cloth had stilled on his hip – he could discern the slight pressure from Severus’ hand still holding it. He had closed his eye in embarrassment, not wanting to see the scorn and ridicule sure to be on Severus’ face.
The cloth lifted away from his hip and Remus could hear the trickle of water as Severus rinsed it in the bowl. He was just about to breathe a sigh of relief when the cloth returned to his body, Severus stroking it slowly over his chest this time. Remus swallowed and opened his eye to look at the other man.
“Relax,” Severus whispered. He kept stroking Remus chest with the cloth, but with his other hand he grasped Remus’ and uncovered his groin.
Remus swallowed again.
“I don’t mind, Lupin.”
“I do,” Remus choked out, feeling more than vulnerable. His head still pounded though the fever seemed to be under control now. “I didn’t want you to…”
“You didn’t want me to know that you were attracted to me, is that it?”
Remus nodded as much as his headache would allow.
“And why did you not want me to know?”
Remus was having trouble remembering now… Ah, yes!
“You were injured. You weren’t yourself. And you were a guest – I didn’t want you to feel uncomfortable,” he supplied.
“I do believe,” Severus dragged the cloth over his nipples slowly, teasingly. “That all of those considerations have been rendered obsolete, have they not?”
“Oh,” Remus gasped – both at the sensation of the cloth and at the realisation that Severus was right, damn it!
“However, you aren’t well at all.” Severus lifted the cloth and dropped it into the bowl. “So perhaps this is a conversation for a later time,” he added.
Noo!
Remus was painfully erect.
“Please,” he begged shamelessly. His left hand sought out his cock, this time to stroke rather than hide it. It was awkward; he’d always used his right, and grimaced at the clumsiness.
“Would you permit me?”
“God, yes!”
Severus’ hand knocked Remus’ away lightly and closed firmly over him. He stroked and squeezed, causing Remus to writhe and thrust, moaning all the while. Then Severus leaned over the bed and Remus gave a hoarse shout as he came inside Severus’ mouth.
His head pounded so hard that he wished for an axe to end his agony…
… he sweltered in his dressing gown.
“Remus? Are you okay?”
He blinked and looked up at Harry leaning over him, his face filled with concern.
“I’ve got the phone, and I brought you some more painease potion,” the boy said, holding out a cup for Remus to drink.
Wordlessly, Remus took the potion then swapped the cup for his mobile, which was in Harry’s outstretched hand.
“I thought you’d gone home, Harry,” he murmured; knowing that it had been a part of his dream, but not yet ready to accept reality.
“I wouldn’t go without saying goodbye,” the boy said with a slight frown.
Remus lay back against the pillows, unsurprised to feel a tear sliding down his cheek. He closed his eye, and tried to swallow the lump in his throat.
“The Professor said he would bring you some soup in a minute or two,” Harry said before walking out with the empty cup.