ellid (ellid) wrote in pervy_werewolf, @ 2007-10-22 08:00:00 |
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Entry tags: | #howl-o-ween 2007, author: ellid, kink: necrophilia, kink: wanking (solo or mutual) |
Howl-O-Ween Fic
Title: Vital Sparke
Pairing: Lupin/Snape
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Masturbation, hints of necrophilia, DH spoilers
Prompt: "By the pricking of my thumbs, something wicked this way comes."
Summary: His love is dead, and time is running out. What will Remus do to save his beloved?
Note: all quotations are from MacBeth, Act IV, scene i.
What he was about to do was illegal. Horribly illegal. But his love was gone. What choice did he have?
Thrice the brinded cat hath mew'd.
Minerva had shrieked at the sight of him stumbling into what was left of the Great Hall after the battle, then shrieked even louder at the sight of Dolohov's body slowly morphing back to itself after the glamour Remus had cast faded away
Her loudest cry had come when Remus turned from his wife's crumpled body to the blood-soaked stretcher that the Slytherin House elves had brought in from the Shrieking Shack.
Double, double toil and trouble;
Fire burn, and cauldron bubble.
The grimoires in the Restricted Section had been no help, and he'd had to threaten to render Slughorn down for his fat to get the Head of Slytherin to produce Salazar Slytherin's own notes. Time was running out if Remus was to have even the slightest chance of success. He gulped a pain potion that dulled the knifing ache in his ribs, then drank the antidote when the words swam on the page.
He had never been good at Potions in school. Now he had to be perfect. Poppy could heal his broken bones later.
Scale of dragon, tooth of wolf,
Witches' mummy, maw and gulf
Of the ravin'd salt-sea shark,
Root of hemlock digg'd i' the darkā¦
Basilisk scales. A chip from his own molar. Dust from Albus Dumbledore's grave. Oh, it was blasphemous, what he was trying to do. He would never see Teddy again once Andromeda learned what he had done.
Not that she would welcome the news that her daughter had never been first in his heart.
Chop. Grind. Squeeze. Incant. Stir and stir until his wrist was on fire. Ignore whomever was pounding at the door, the green fire shooting upwards from the hearth as Minerva and Harry and one of the Weasleys howled for him to open up, that the sexton was here for the body, St. Mungo's was coming with an alienist because surely he'd gone mad -
Liver of blaspheming Jew,
Gall of goat, and slips of yew
Silver'd in the moon's eclipse,
Nose of Turk and Tartar's lips,
Finger of birth-strangled babe
Ditch-deliver'd by a drab,
Make the gruel thick and slab:
The clocked tolled midnight. Remus bared his teeth at the mixture. The scent was right, the color was perfect, everything was right - why wasn't it thickening? A few minutes now at most before the flesh was too far gone, the spirit lost beyond retrieval -
Add thereto a tiger's chaudron,
For the ingredients of our cauldron.
"For thee potione may be beste made with the vital sparke of th'one who loves best. So saith the sarpente on the hearth, and so I have founde it to be trewe - "
Remus closed his eyes at the words in the rusty, faded handwriting. Of course it would involve one's essence. It was the Darkest of Dark Magics, to revive the dead. Moon's blood for a woman, terrifying proof of fertility, the wound never healed.
And for a man -
He floated the cauldron to rest beside the stretcher, then flicked the stiffened sheet aside and knelt by the body.
"My poor love. Oh my poor love - "
Tears washed the blood from the hideous neck wound before a murmured spell closed the punctures. Another spell cleaned and combed the clots from the thick black hair. Remus kissed the cold, thin lips.
Cool it with a baboon's blood,
Then the charm is firm and good.
It was not easy, stroking himself erect with the scent of blood so thick about him. He concentrated on memories of what had happened here so many times, Severus writhing and crying out his name, Severus sleeping in his arms, Severus whispering his name as they joined, as the hatred yielded again and again to the love. He had taken pity on Dora, yes, but she'd known almost at once that she would never be first in his heart.
He was hard now, cock dripping at the memory of their last night together, when Severus had fucked like a madman, howling and clawing and thrashing hard enough to loosen the ropes under the mattress. They'd both known that Albus would die, and Remus would go to Dora.
Their last night. Oh God oh God, not the last forever - oh - oh -
He groaned as the first drops spurted upwards. The cauldron was still hot enough to burn his fingers as he raised it to the right angle, but what was pain compared to Severus alive and in his arms?
O well done! I commend your pains;
And every one shall share i' the gains;
And now about the cauldron sing,
Live elves and fairies in a ring,
Enchanting all that you put in.
The potion sizzled and leapt upwards as his seed dissolved into the glowing mixture. Remus slumped back on his heels. Three stirs widdershins, a final incantation -
He kissed Severus again, placed the funnel between the rigid lips, and slowly poured the potion down his lover's throat. The door exploded inward as the last drop disappeared.
By the pricking of my thumbs,
Something wicked this way comes.
Open, locks,
Whoever knocks!
"Remus! My God, what have you done?"
Severus coughed. Remus lifted cradled the thinner man to his chest as the life crept back into him.
"What I had to do, Minerva. What I had to do."