FIC: Always, Part 4 of 6

[geri_chan]

Title: Always, Part 4 of 6
Rating: NC-17 overall, but mostly PG-13
Pairing: Snape/Lupin
Word count: ~10,590
Disclaimer: Characters belong to J.K. Rowling and lyrics belong to the band Saliva; consider it a little wish fulfillment on my part. (All songs are from the album "Back into Your System.")
Warning: Very AU (was written pre-Book 5)--Snape is a pureblood; also, in my universe, Lupin's condition is a hereditary disease or curse. It seemed more logical than the huge coincidence of someone whose name means "wolf" being bitten by a werewolf. It doesn't really come up in this story except for a brief mention, but plays a more important role in the sequels to this story.
Summary: Lupin's return to Hogwarts throws Snape's life into turmoil, and Lupin reveals the origins of the Wolfsbane Potion.

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

***

[I just can't live without you
I love you, I hate you, I can't get around you
I breathe you, I taste you, I can't live without you
I just can't take anymore of this life of solitude
I guess that I'm out the door and now I'm done with you
--"Always" by Saliva]

When Snape ripped up Lupin's letter all those years ago, he thought he had closed the door on that part of his life, shutting out Lupin forever. He tried to forget about his old lover, and moved on with his life as best he could. But lately, fate seemed to be conspiring against him. First the Potter child showed up at Hogwarts, stirring up old memories Snape would rather forget. He knew he ought to feel sorry for the boy, who had after all been orphaned by Snape's former master; in fact, it was partly Snape's fault his parents were dead: he had learned of Voldemort's plan to kill the Potters, and passed the information on to Dumbledore, but it had been too late. He knew some of Dumbledore's allies believed he had withheld the information on purpose, but that was the last thing on earth he would have done--saving James Potter would have finally freed Snape from his debt. But Snape was still unable to feel anything other than resentment towards the boy; he was too much like his father...charming and insolent and lacking any respect for the school rules. (Snape ignored the little voice in his head that reminded him he had broken the rules just as many times as a child himself.) Potter was the golden boy, just as his father before him had been, winning the adulation of the students and teachers without even trying, it seemed. Which only served to remind him of how James Potter had--so casually, without even being aware of it--taken from Snape everything he had ever wanted: the top rank in school, the Headmaster's affection, and a certain brown-haired, blue-eyed boy...

And now the Headmaster had brought Lupin to the school as a teacher, making his private little hell complete. He wondered if the Headmaster was deliberately making his life as miserable as possible...some sort of belated punishment for following Voldemort, perhaps? Lupin's presence was a constant irritation, like having sand in one's clothes, chafing at the skin. He knew he should just ignore Lupin, but he found himself behaving like a schoolboy again, spying on Lupin and following him around everywhere he went. He insulted Lupin every chance he got, but Lupin remained as unflappable as ever, always responding with that polite little smile no matter what Snape said. It got to the point where Snape wanted to smack him upside the head just to wipe that smile off his face. At dinner, he would always plan to sit as far away from Lupin as he could, yet somehow always found himself taking the seat next to the werewolf. Snape didn't know why he even bothered to show up for dinner, since he could barely eat anything, his stomach churning with anger and other emotions he would rather not identify; at this rate he was probably going to develop an ulcer. And once, when Lupin bent over his plate, his long hair falling into his eyes, a horrified Snape had found his hand starting to reach out to brush it out of the way. He quickly stabbed the errant appendage with his fork before it got more than an inch off the table, but his muffled yelp of pain had drawn the attention of the other teachers, who stared at him as if he'd lost his mind. He avoided Lupin's look of concern as the Headmaster gently chided him, "You must be overworking yourself, Severus, if you're so preoccupied that you're stabbing your own hand instead of the roast beef." Snape mumbled something about being distracted by preparations for an upcoming exam and beat a hasty retreat from the table, brushing off Madam Pomfrey's offer to take a look at his hand.

Right on the heels of that incident, came an even more humiliating experience: Neville Longbottom's transformation of the boggart into an image of Snape clad in his grandmother's clothes. It happened, of course, in Lupin's class. And of course, word spread around the school like wildfire. The students at least, were too terrified of him to laugh about it to his face, but several of the teachers snickered to themselves every time they saw him. McGonagall in particular, seemed to find it highly amusing, though she would quickly lift her hand to her face to cover her smile. Snape silently ground his teeth in frustration; oh yes, it was all very amusing...just like being a student again, once more the butt of Potter and Black's little jokes.

***

"Just like old times, Lupin," Snape sneered. "How nice to see that some things haven't changed. Too bad your old friends aren't around to see your latest prank."

Lupin sighed. He had inwardly groaned when Neville told him his greatest fear was Professor Snape, knowing when Severus heard about what happened, it would make his already near-impossible task of "getting through" to his former friend even more difficult. "If you're talking about the incident with Neville and the boggart," he said aloud, "it was hardly a prank. How was I to know you were his worst fear?"

"And whose idea was it to dress the boggart in his grandmother's clothes?! Maybe you didn't plan it, but you can't tell me you didn't enjoy it, Lupin!"

"I am telling you that very thing, but you aren't listening to me, Severus!" Lupin said in exasperation. He was a little disturbed, not so much by Snape's anger with him, but by the fact that he seemed to be taking it out on Neville as well. Of course he had not seen Severus in many years, but it seemed out of character for him to pick on a helpless child. "It's partly your own fault, you know. You have that poor boy completely terrorized--"

"Oh, spare me!" Snape said with a snort. "Hermione Granger isn't intimidated by me, and she's a little slip of a girl nearly half his size!"

Lupin smiled at the tone of grudging respect. "You almost sound like you admire her, Severus."

Snape turned red and growled, "She's an insolent little know-it-all wench, too smart for her own good, like all Gryffindors! Still, if she can function in class despite being 'terrorized,' then I don't see why Longbottom can't as well."

"Different students need to be handled in different ways, Severus," Lupin said mildly. "Some need to be pushed, others need to be coaxed along--"

"You're not doing your students a favor by coddling them, Lupin," snarled Snape. "These children might end up facing the Dark Lord one day. Do you think Voldemort will be as gentle with them? Do you think he'll care about treating them fairly or hurting their tender little feelings?"

Lupin felt relieved to find out that Severus was not just bullying the children, but was in his own (if slightly misguided) way, doing his best to protect them and prepare them for the inevitable battle to come. "No, Severus, but I still think--"

"I'm not interested in what you think, Lupin!" Snape interrupted. "Do as you please in your class, but don't ever try to tell me how I should teach mine!" And with that, Snape abruptly turned away, his black robe swirling around him as he left Lupin's office, slamming the door behind him.

"Still as dramatic as ever," Lupin said to no one in particular, half-amused, half-annoyed. "If I tried that, I would probably get my robe caught in the door." He sighed wistfully, remembering how impressed he used to be with the Slytherin boy's dramatic presence. He wasn't sure whether he should feel encouraged or discouraged by Severus's seeming reversion to schoolboy behavior: the constant sniping and endless suspicions, not to mention his near-stalking of Lupin... Although he was grateful for the job, he sometimes wished Albus had never offered it to him. Being so near Severus all the time was both pleasurable and painful at the same time, like a constant irritation, an itch that couldn't be scratched...

***

On Halloween, Lupin found Harry prowling the corridors, looking depressed and troubled, and invited the boy into his office for a cup of tea. {He looks so much like James,} Lupin thought, with a pang of sorrow and nostalgia. As they talked about Harry's fear of the Dementors, he realized the boy was also as intelligent and perceptive as James, although perhaps a bit more serious and a little less sure of himself, which was not surprising, considering his upbringing. Just then, Severus showed up with his Wolfsbane Potion, and he and Harry eyed each other with mutual dislike. Lupin sighed to himself; it seemed Harry was following in his father's footsteps with his animosity towards Snape as well, although Severus was probably equally to blame for that. But he fixed a pleasant smile on his face and thanked Severus politely for the potion. There was an odd look on his face as he backed out of the room without turning around, his gaze remaining fixed on Lupin until he closed the door. Lupin sighed again, wishing he had been alone so he could have tried to talk to Severus, but the attempt probably would have been futile anyway.

He saw Harry looking curiously at the goblet, and explained, "Professor Snape has very kindly concocted a potion for me. I have never been much of a potion-brewer and this one is particularly complex. Pity sugar makes it useless." He took a sip and shuddered; it tasted even worse than it smelled. Despite the revolting taste, he almost laughed out loud at the way Harry's eyes went round, bugging out of his head with horror.

"Why--" Harry blurted out.

Lupin smiled and explained that Snape had made the potion for him because he had been feeling ill. "I am very lucky to be working alongside Professor Snape; there aren't many wizards who are up to making it," he added, hoping to give Harry a more positive view of his admittedly ill-tempered teacher. He knew that Severus treated the boy with open rudeness and resentment, but he also knew (through Albus) that Harry was aware that Severus had saved his life on at least one occasion. He hoped that Harry would be able to see there was more to Severus than what lay on the surface.

But instead Harry told him that Snape was "very interested in the Dark Arts," and that "some people reckon he'd do anything to get the Defense Against the Dark Arts job."

Lupin forced himself to keep a disinterested look on his face as he gulped down the potion. It was like nothing had changed since they had been in school; the dark rumors about Severus still persisted. {Oh Severus,} he thought sadly. {Why must you make it so easy for people to hate you? Why can't you let others see the man I know you truly are, the one who risked his life to save people he didn't even like from Voldemort's hands, the one I loved...?}

***

Snape was in a foul mood as he left Lupin's office. The potion had given him the perfect excuse to satisfy his irrational, unwanted craving to see Lupin, but the Potter boy had been there, so he was unable to linger. Why did there always seem to be a Potter standing between him and the things he wanted? Not that he wanted Lupin, of course... {Liar,} said the little voice in his head. {Oh, shut up!} he told it.

The house elves laid out a delicious feast that night, but what little of it he could choke down tasted like cardboard to Snape. His stomach was roiling again; he would have to brew a tonic for himself later that night. Madam Pomfrey could have treated him, of course, but he didn't care to explain to her just why his stomach was always upset these days. He tried to concentrate on his food, but his eyes kept flickering over to Lupin, who was cheerfully talking to Professor Flitwick. He told himself there was no reason for him to feel jealous that Lupin was smiling at someone else, but every bite of food he swallowed sat like lead in his already aching stomach.

Finally, the feast was over, and he was heading back to the dungeon when a frantic student ran up calling for Dumbledore. The staff all headed for the Gryffindor dorm, and found the portrait of the Fat Lady had been ripped to shreds by none other than Sirius Black.

They searched the entire school, but Black was nowhere to be found. Snape tried--discreetly, since the students were still watching--to remind Dumbledore about the reservations he'd had about letting Lupin teach here. "You remember the conversation we had, Headmaster, just before--ah--the start of the term?"

"I do, Severus," Dumbledore said, a strong hint of warning in his voice.

Snape ignored it and pressed on, saying, "It seems--almost impossible--that Black could have entered the school without inside help. I did express my concerns when you appointed--"

"I do not believe a single person inside this castle would have helped Black enter it," Dumbledore said, the steel in both his voice and his eyes firmly cutting Snape off. The Potions Master subsided into a sulky silence as he watched the Headmaster leave to deal with the Dementors, then went back to his own quarters.

He drank his tonic and stirred the cauldron of Wolfsbane Potion, wondering if Lupin really had let Black into the castle. The rational part of him said that although Lupin was an annoying little git, he was no murderer. {Not like YOU,} the voice whispered accusingly, and Snape closed his eyes for a moment, once more seeing the faces of Voldemort's victims. Snape sighed, feeling more weary than angry now. No, Lupin was not a conspirator of Black's, but he had always been softhearted, and might be stupid enough to believe Black if he tried to proclaim his innocence. This made Snape nervous, since after Potter, Lupin was probably Black's prime target. It hadn't escaped Snape's notice that Black had killed every member of their little schoolboy gang except for Lupin; he probably would have gone after Lupin when he was done with Pettigrew if he hadn't been caught and sent to Azkaban first. Snape had not forgotten the vow he had made to protect Lupin nearly twenty years ago; it was a foolish promise made by a lovesick boy, but Severus Snape always kept his word. He would find Black, and kill him if necessary, before he did any harm to Lupin.

***

Lupin was of course too ill to teach the day of his transformation, so Snape readily agreed to take over his class for the time being. He felt quite smug, since he was killing two birds with one stone, so to speak. First, he finally got a chance to teach the DADA class. Although Potions was his first love, he had been badgering Dumbledore for years to let him teach Defense Against the Dark Arts. He was, after all, the only teacher on the staff who had any experience in actually practicing the Dark Arts, so did that not make him the most qualified person to teach it? If they relied on the instructions of idiots like Quirrell and Lockhart, the children would be dead the instant they went up against a real Dark Wizard. Lupin was a competent mage, Snape grudgingly admitted, but he had clearly coddled the brats too much, judging by the amount of whining they did when Snape assigned them some real work. But what really irked Snape was the suspicion that Dumbledore didn't trust him. Oh, the Headmaster claimed that Snape was irreplaceable as Potions Master, and that trying to teach two classes at once would be too much work for him to handle, but Snape suspected the real reason was that Dumbledore was afraid he would be unable to resist temptation if he started studying the Dark Arts again, even in a simple Defense course. Snape felt a smoldering resentment; Dumbledore had given that idiot Hagrid a second chance, as well as the werewolf--did he trust a monster more than he trusted Snape, who had proven his loyalty several times over during the war? He ignored the rational little voice that said, {But Dumbledore gave you a second chance, too...}

The second thing that gave him a bitter little surge of pleasure was the prospect of getting back at Lupin for the boggart-in-a-dress incident, and maybe even exposing him and getting him kicked out of the school. (Although he had to suppress a panicky feeling at the thought of that actually happening.) That sense of panic ruined his good mood, and he vented his anger on the class, taking twenty points total off Gryffindor, although he supposed it was a bit petty of him to take five points off Miss Granger for "being an insufferable know-it-all". He almost felt guilty when her eyes filled with tears, but she didn't whine, protest, or quiver in fear; she was definitely made of stronger stuff than Longbottom, or rest of the class, for that matter. And when he assigned an essay on ways to recognize and kill werewolves, the other students moaned and groaned at his "unfairness," but her eyes lit up, tears forgotten. {Very good, Miss Granger,} he thought as he watched the students file out of the classroom. {I know you, at least, won't let me down.} Potter and Weasley probably would have fainted if they had seen his approving smile.

Unfortunately, Lupin returned to class on Monday and canceled the essay, which most of the students hadn't finished anyway. But at dinner he noticed Miss Granger watching Lupin with a very thoughtful look on her face, so perhaps it had not been a complete waste of time. As for Lupin, although he must have guessed what Snape had been up to, he made no accusations, said not one harsh word of censure, but only looked at Snape with a slightly hurt look in his pale blue eyes. That mournful puppy-dog look made Snape feel worse than any swear words or shouting match ever could. His stomach tied itself into knots of guilt--although he had absolutely no reason to feel guilty--and he laid his fork down, giving up any pretense of eating. {I will probably starve to death at this rate,} Snape thought sourly as he glared at Lupin, and made a mental note to brew an extra-large cauldronful of stomach-tonic that night.

***

[You look so beautiful tonight
Remind me how you laid us down
And gently smiled before you destroyed my life

Would you find it in your heart?
To make this go away
And let me rest in pieces
--"Rest in Pieces" by Saliva]

A few weeks later, Snape found himself taking the Wolfsbane Potion to Lupin again. He could have sent it with a house elf, of course, but he had never fully trusted the little creatures, whose servile fawning set his nerves on edge. Besides, he told himself, it was his duty to make sure Lupin actually drank the concoction in order to ensure he was no threat to the students. {Right, Snape,} said the little voice in his head sarcastically. {You just keep telling yourself that.}

"Oh, shut up!" he growled out loud, just as a couple of Hufflepuff girls rounded the corner in front of him, giggling and whispering to each other. {Oh, that's just great,} he thought to himself peevishly. {Now on top of everything else, I'm going to acquire a reputation for talking to myself!}

Fortunately, the girls thought he was talking to them. They froze in their tracks like frightened little rabbits, squealed, "Sorry, Professor!" and hastily fled in the direction of their dorm.

Somewhat cheered by the fact that he could still strike terror into the hearts of the students without even trying, he continued on his way. Lupin wasn't in his office, so Snape tried his classroom, opening the door without bothering to knock first. What he saw took his breath away.

It was just Lupin, talking to Potter, but a ray of fading sunlight fell through the window and across the desk where Lupin was sitting. It hid the lines of exhaustion on Lupin's face, and gave his hair a soft glow, changing light brown into molten gold, and gray into strands of pure silver. All the defenses Snape had built up over the years, the wall he had thought was solid as stone, each brick made from a carefully nursed grudge and sealed in place with hatred, instantly melted away, as insubstantial as spun sugar. His hands trembled, threatening to spill the potion as he stared at Lupin, unable to tear his eyes away. He tried to summon up his old resentment, but all he could think of was how beautiful Lupin looked right now, and how much he wanted to run his hands through that gold-and-silver hair. He couldn't seem to find the strength to fight with the werewolf anymore; he wanted to throw away his Slytherin pride and sink to his knees and beg Lupin for mercy--beg Lupin to stop tormenting him and leave him in peace. Some Muggle poet had once said, "It is better to have loved and lost than to have never loved at all," but Snape thought that was a lie. Those few brief weeks of joy he had shared with Lupin were not worth the years of pain and heartache that followed. If he had never loved Lupin, he would not have had to spend nearly twenty years yearning after something he could never have...

***

It was Harry who noticed Snape first. He had been discussing a homework project with Professor Lupin; he enjoyed spending time with the DADA instructor. He liked that Lupin took him seriously; he never talked down to Harry because he was a child, and never belittled his concerns--such as his fear of the Dementors. So he looked up with resentment when he realized it was Snape who had interrupted them, but he was taken aback by the expression on the Potions Master's face, a strange mixture of despair and longing. Then Lupin looked up, and Snape's face was set in its usual sneer, leaving Harry to wonder if he had imagined the whole thing.

"I brought your potion, Lupin," Snape said curtly.

"Thank you, Severus," said Lupin with a smile. "Harry and I were just about done here." Harry hesitated, staring at the smoking goblet, not wanting to leave his favorite teacher alone with Snape. "I'm sure you'll do fine on the project, Harry," Lupin added, a polite but firm tone of dismissal in his voice, and Harry left, giving Snape and the goblet one last glare.

{I must have imagined it,} Harry said to himself as he walked back to Gryffindor Tower. He took off his glasses and wiped them on his robe; perhaps he had been seeing things. If there had been longing in Snape's eyes, surely it was for Lupin's position as Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, and not for Lupin himself...

***

Lupin felt a little guilty about practically kicking Harry out of the room, but he was not going to let Severus get away this time. Although Snape wore his usual unpleasant expression, that mask seemed particularly brittle today. His lips curled in a sneer that didn't reach his eyes, which looked haunted and had dark circles under them, as if he hadn't slept in days. He was even paler than normal, and looked as if he had lost weight, which was not surprising since he had barely touched his food at dinner for weeks. In short, Severus looked terrible; in fact, he looked about as bad as Lupin felt. {What a pair we make,} he thought, nearly laughing at the irony of it all. {We both look as if we're about to keel over any moment.} He stood up and walked around to the front of the desk, moving very slowly and carefully, because his legs felt none too steady beneath him.

Snape handed Lupin the goblet, grumbling, "Insolent brat," as he glared at the door Harry had just shut behind him.

Lupin took a sip, grimacing at the taste. Then he smiled and said, "He was just being protective, Severus." When Snape stared at him blankly, he said, "I think he thinks you're trying to poison me." He knew it would only make Severus angrier, but he couldn't repress a mischievous little grin. But Snape just flinched, a stricken expression appearing on his face as if Lupin had just slapped him. Alarmed, Lupin said in a conciliatory tone, "But of course I know that's not true," and took another gulp of the potion to prove it.

"I don't care what you think," Snape muttered, but he sounded more desperate than angry.

Snape turned as if to leave, and Lupin called out, "Wait!"

"What?" Snape asked irritably.

Lupin thought quickly, and decided to play his trump card. "I just wanted to thank you for the potion."

"Don't thank me," Snape said brusquely. "Dumbledore ordered me to make it."

"That's not what I meant," replied Lupin. "Unless he forced you to do the research on it as well."

Snape froze in place, except for his eyes, which darted frantically around the room, as if seeking some avenue of escape. "I don't know what you're talking about, Lupin. It's my understanding that a Japanese wizard invented the Wolfsbane Potion, a Professor Kamiyama."

"Yes, that is true," replied Lupin calmly. "I wrote to him to thank him for his discovery. He told me a number of interesting things, such as the fact that Japan is home to many shape-shifting creatures, such as the kitsune, or fox spirits. Perhaps that is why the Japanese wizards were less afraid of, and more willing to help those afflicted with lycanthropy."

"Fascinating," said Snape, feigning a yawn while his black eyes still flickered nervously. "But I fail to see how that concerns me."

"He told me he could never have developed the potion without the invaluable aid of a British colleague. His collaborator wished to remain anonymous, but Professor Kamiyama did let slip the fact that this mysterious person worked at Hogwarts."

"It must be Dumbledore, then," said Snape desperately. "Or maybe McGonagall."

"They are both powerful wizards, but neither of them has the expertise in potions that you do, Severus. You are the only one on this staff capable of creating such a potion."

"What do you want from me, Lupin?!" Snape shouted. "Why did you come back here?!"

"Well, for one thing, Albus asked me to. And..." Lupin hesitated, then said softly, "And I wanted to see you again." Snape's mouth dropped open; he just stood there staring at Lupin. When no reply seemed to be forthcoming, Lupin continued, "I don't expect you to forgive me, nor am I under any illusions that you might want to rekindle our old romance. It was enough for me just to be near you once again, as pathetic as that may sound." He gave Snape--who was still in shock--a sad, crooked little smile. "Please say something, Severus."

Snape's voice didn't seem to work; he opened his mouth but nothing came out. Damn Lupin, anyway! First that sunlight-drenched vision of him had ripped away Snape's defenses, then he had smiled that mischievous little smile Snape remembered so well from their schoolboy days, cutting like a knife through his heart. He couldn't eat, and he couldn't sleep without dreaming of blue eyes and brown hair and smooth skin--even the old nightmares about Voldemort had been easier to bear than this! He told himself it must be hunger and sleep deprivation that had addled his wits, leaving him silently opening and closing his mouth like a goldfish. He must look even worse than he thought, because a look of concern suddenly appeared on Lupin's face and he took a step towards Snape. The little voice in Snape's head screamed at him to flee, while the more detached, professional side of him was telling him that perhaps he ought to increase the dosage of the Wolfsbane Potion because Lupin really looked awful: lines of pain creased his face, and his skin was sickly-pale and clammy-looking. Just as that thought crossed his mind, the half-empty goblet fell from Lupin's fingers, hitting the floor with a loud clatter, and splashing them both with the remainder of the potion.

Lupin grabbed at the edge of his desk as his legs crumpled beneath him. He missed, but he heard someone scream, "Lupin!" and strong arms closed around him, catching him before he hit the floor. He felt an odd sense of deja vu as he slumped against Snape's chest, the feel of plush wool beneath his face and hands carrying him back to his schoolboy days. For a moment he thought he was a teenager again, safely wrapped in his lover's arms. Perhaps it was wrong of him to take advantage of the moment, when Severus was merely trying to help him, but he clung to his former lover, wanting to savor this feeling for as long as he could before Snape pushed him away again.

The warm weight of Lupin in his arms made Snape feel lightheaded, and he almost fainted himself. He told himself he should push Lupin away, or at least set him down in a chair and go get some help, but he no longer seemed to have any control over his own body. His arms wrapped themselves more tightly around Lupin, pulling him closer; a strand of golden-brown hair tickled his nose, and to his horror, he found himself nuzzling and kissing Lupin's soft, silky hair. As if that wasn't bad enough, his body began to have a perfectly normal but highly embarrassing reaction to the sensation of Lupin pressed close against him. His cheeks burning with shame, he tried to gently ease himself away from Lupin, but the werewolf held on to him with a grip that was surprisingly strong for a near-invalid. Then he heard a soft gasp, and to his astonishment, felt Lupin's body responding to his own. Lupin moaned, and that sound destroyed the last shred of Snape's self control.

He kissed Lupin with bruising force, sliding his tongue between Lupin's eagerly parting lips. Their tongues entwined, and he could taste the lingering bitterness of the Wolfsbane potion, but he didn't care. Snape ran his tongue along Lupin's teeth, aroused rather than repulsed by the sharpness of his canines, just slightly longer and more pointed than a normal human's should be. He pushed Lupin back almost violently until he was pinned between Snape and the wall--not that Lupin showed any signs of wanting to get away. {This is insane,} he thought as he ground his hips against Lupin's, but Lupin's involuntary cry of pleasure awoke a fierce joy in him, banishing any semblance of rational thought. "You can't deny that you want me, Lupin," he said in a hoarse growl.

"I...would never...do...that...Severus," Lupin gasped, then gave up trying to speak as another moan broke free of his lips. He looked into Snape's black eyes and saw a conflicting mix of emotions: lust, fear, joy, and anger, all merged into a burning intensity that frightened Lupin more than a little. He wasn't sure it would be a good idea for them to sleep together without resolving their feelings for each other first. At least, that was what his common sense told him; his body was telling him in no uncertain terms that it wanted Severus RIGHT NOW as it bucked and writhed uncontrollably beneath Severus's hips, frantically trying to increase the friction between them. He pulled Severus's face down and kissed him hungrily, throwing common sense to the wind. He didn't care whether this was love or lust on Severus's part, didn't care if Severus hated him afterwards; he was willing to accept whatever crumbs of affection Snape threw his way. Perhaps he ought to be ashamed of that, but after all, a poverty-struck werewolf had little pride to lose...

He had just enough presence of mind left to break off the kiss and whisper, "Not here, Severus--what if a student walks in?"

Snape cursed and muttered, "Can't Apparate in the bloody castle." Lupin began to regret saying anything; maybe he should have just locked the door and taken his chances rather than risk Snape's ardor cooling in the time it took to find someplace more private. But he needn't have worried; Snape opened the door a crack and took a quick look around. When he was satisfied that no one was in sight, he took Lupin's hand and pulled him out into the hall. They ran down the corridor, then Snape turned and led Lupin down a dusty hallway that he didn't recognize. It turned out to be a dead end, but Snape reached up and pressed one of the bricks in the wall, and a hidden door soundlessly slid open. Lupin's eyes went round with surprise, and Snape grinned almost boyishly as he said, "What, did you think you were the only one who knew about secret passageways in this castle?"

Lupin just laughed, feeling once more like a teenager on an illicit adventure as they ran hand in hand down the passageway to Snape's dungeon quarters.

***

Snape kicked the door shut behind him, not wanting to take his hands off Lupin for even a second. They stumbled towards the bed, fumbling awkwardly with each other's robes. Impatient with desire, Snape gave up fiddling with buttons and fastenings, and pulled hard on Lupin's robe; the thin and much-darned fabric gave way easily with a loud ripping sound. Snape felt a brief moment of guilt, but told himself he'd mend Lupin's robe later magically, or better yet, buy him a new one. Meanwhile, Lupin seemed to be equally frustrated with the long row of tiny buttons on Snape's shirt; he yanked hard on the cloth, which (being made of more sturdy and expensive stuff than Lupin's) held, but the buttons did not--they bounced, scattered, and rolled all over the bedroom floor. Snape would probably never find them all, but right at this moment he didn't give a damn. The rest of their clothing went flying every which way, and they tumbled down onto the bed together.

The intense pleasure of skin-to-skin contact was almost too much for Snape to bear, and he pulled away from Lupin for a moment to catch his breath, propping himself up on his elbows as he stared down at the other man. Lupin looked beautiful, his face flushed, and his gold-and-silver hair spread out against the white of the sheets, although he was a little too pale and gaunt. A sliver of sanity worked its way through the haze of desire, and Snape frowned. "Are you sure we should be doing this now, when you're feeling so sick?" he asked hesitantly.

"No!" exclaimed Lupin. "I mean, yes, I want to do this, and no, I'm not too sick! Please, Severus, I want you so much!" Snape hesitated, wrestling with his conscience and his lust, and Lupin begged, "Please, Severus, I want you inside me, please please please!"

That tipped Snape over the edge; the sight and sound of a naked Lupin in his bed pleading with him shamelessly was something that was all too close to his deepest, darkest fantasies. His mouth had gone dry, and it took him three tries to croak out the words of a summoning charm, conjuring into his hand a small jar of scented oil that he normally used in making healing salves for Madam Pomfrey. He coated his fingers with the oil and inserted one into Lupin as gently as his clamoring need would let him, but he felt Lupin tense and let out what sounded like a soft hiss of...pain? Discomfort? Snape instantly stopped, asking anxiously, "Am I hurting you?"

"No," gasped Lupin. "It's just...it's been a long time for me." Snape wondered jealously just how long it had been and who his last lover was. Then Lupin whispered urgently, "I'm all right, Severus, please don't stop," and nothing else mattered. He bent down and kissed Lupin, moving his finger in slow, gentle strokes until he felt his lover relax. Encouraged, he eased another finger into Lupin, who moaned and lifted his hips, impaling himself on Snape's fingers. Snape felt his breath go ragged. As a teenager, Lupin had been a willing lover, but slightly shy and self conscious; it was unbelievably exciting for him to now watch Lupin writhe and moan wantonly beneath him, his face contorted with pleasure. Snape reveled in the fact that it was he who had put that look of pleasure on Lupin's face; he could not take his eyes off Lupin, and eventually his lover became aware of his intent gaze. "You're staring at me, Severus," he said huskily.

"Does that bother you?" Snape asked.

"Not exactly...I'm just...a little embarrassed, I guess," Lupin replied, blushing in a way that Snape found quite endearing. There was still a bit of the shy teenager left in him, it seemed. Lupin started to turn his face away, but Snape stopped him with his free hand, and looked directly into the Lupin's blue eyes.

"Don't be," he said seriously. "You're beautiful, Remus."

Lupin felt his eyes fill with tears of happiness; Severus had not called him by his first name since that night in the Shrieking Shack. He let go of any lingering modesty or false pride, and abandoned himself to the moment; self-control had always mattered more to Severus than himself anyway. He tangled his hands in Severus's black hair, as he'd been wanting to do since his first day back at Hogwarts, kissing him greedily. He let out a muffled groan and rocked his hips back and forth as Severus's fingers continued to move inside him; it felt wonderful but he wanted more. He tore his lips free from his lover's and pleaded, "Severus, please, I can't wait anymore, I want you now, please, Severus, please--" He was aware that he was starting to babble incoherently, but was beyond caring.

"Are you sure?" asked Snape, his voice harsh with desire.

"Yes!" Lupin growled in frustration. "Stop being so damn solicitous, Severus!" Snape laughed, a delightfully wicked sound; low and husky. His voice had gotten deeper since they'd been boys; it was quite sexy really... And then he lost his train of thought completely as he felt Severus slowly enter him, stretching and filling him, and he cried out in mingled pleasure and pain.

"Am I hurting you?" Snape panted. His eyes still had that dark, burning need in them, warring with his self-control. Lupin ran his hands up Severus's arms, over his shoulders, and down his back, feeling how his muscles were knotted with tension as he fought to keep his desire in check.

{For my sake,} thought Lupin, touched by his lover's concern for him despite the heat of the moment and all the years of animosity that lay between them. "No," Lupin answered aloud; it was not precisely a lie. It hurt a little, but he wanted Severus so badly that he barely noticed it. "I'm not made of glass," he said, his voice sounding as ragged and breathless as Severus's. Snape moaned as Lupin's hands caressed his back, but continued moving slowly, until Lupin groaned impatiently, his hips snapping up in one swift movement, driving Snape deep inside of him. And with that, Snape finally lost control, thrusting hard and fast into Lupin. There was nothing tender or gentle about it; they were both caught up in raw need and sheer animal lust. Pain merged into white-hot pleasure, and Lupin wrapped his legs around Snape's waist and clawed at his back, trying to draw his lover deeper inside of him. He thought the wolf might be partly responsible for this reckless, overwhelming desire, but for once he didn't try to fight off the beast within. He gave up any attempt at rational thought and lost himself in the scent, touch, and taste of his mate. Pleasure built up in ever-increasing waves until with one final, deep thrust he felt Severus come inside him, and Lupin threw back his head and screamed as he came as well.

They fell back to the bed, sated and exhausted. Lupin made a small sound--half-pleasure, half-protest--as his lover slid out of him. Snape started to smile, then frowned as he caught sight of a small streak of red blood on the sheets beneath them. "I'm sorry," he said contritely. Snape normally hated apologizing to anyone, but this time the words fell from his lips without his thinking about it. "I didn't mean to hurt you; you should have said something."

Lupin just gave him a lazy, sensual smile through the strands of gold-brown hair that, as usual, fell disheveled across his face, and for a moment Snape forgot to breathe. "I'm fine, Severus," Lupin reassured him. "It's just been a long time since I, well, you know..."

"How long?" Snape blurted out, then said, "Never mind, it's none of my business." The truth was he didn't want to know because he couldn't stand the thought of anyone else touching Lupin.

But Lupin was already answering in a soft voice, "Almost twenty years." He was still smiling, but his eyes looked sad and a little apprehensive.

Snape did some quick math in his head. "How long exactly?" he asked in a strangled voice.

"You heard right, Severus," said Lupin, still smiling sadly. "The last time was with you, the last day of Christmas vacation..."

Snape's mouth did the goldfish thing again, opening and closing soundlessly. When he finally got his voice back, he asked incredulously, "You...haven't been...with anyone...but...ME?!"

"Yes," replied Lupin calmly.

"Why!?" shouted Snape.

"Partly because I was afraid to trust anyone with my secret, and after what happened between us, I didn't think it would be fair to sleep with anyone unless I told them the truth about me." There was nothing accusing in Lupin's tone, but Snape still flushed guiltily. "But also because...I have never really wanted anyone but you, Severus." He smiled, apparently amused by the dumbfounded look on Snape's face. "I hope you don't expect me to ask you the same question, because I'm afraid the answer might make me jealous." Lupin kept his voice light, but Snape could tell by the look in his eyes that he wasn't joking.

{He still wants me, after all these years,} marveled Snape. {The thought of me being with someone else makes him jealous!} He could hardly believe it, that Lupin could still want him after the way Snape had treated him; certainly others had readily hated him for far less reason. But all he said was, "There's been no one special." That was an understatement; while he had not exactly been celibate, he had never taken another lover. When he felt the need to satisfy his physical desires, he would find a discreet establishment where companionship could be had for a price, with no messy emotional entanglements. But those encounters were few and far between because they were ultimately unsatisfying; although he took care never to choose a partner with brown hair or blue eyes, inevitably his thoughts would turn to Lupin, and he would fantasize that it was Lupin in his arms instead of some faceless stranger. And the moment of physical release was not worth the heartache those fantasies brought on.

But the real Lupin was lying beside him now, and Snape felt Lupin's hand (real this time, no vision!) reach up and caress his cheek. "Then I will be content with that," said Lupin, giving him a real smile this time.

Snape traced the curve of those lips with his fingers, then gently nipped at Lupin's earlobe and trailed kisses along his jaw and down his neck. Lupin sighed and tilted his head back, exposing his white throat like a wolf in submission. Inflamed, Snape kissed the hollow of his throat, and bit and sucked at the soft skin there, leaving a dark bruise. {My, my,} said the sarcastic little voice in Snape's head, {aren't we being territorial? I thought it was Lupin who was the beast, not you.} Snape started to tell the voice to shut up, but was distracted when his lips brushed against something cold and metallic. Almost hidden by Lupin's long hair was a thin gold chain that looked oddly familiar. He tugged at the chain, and fished out the pendant at the end of it, which had fallen back and become tangled in Lupin's hair. It was a small piece of clear quartz, etched with a magical rune of good luck.

"Y-you ke-kept this?" stuttered Snape, staring at the necklace he'd given Lupin for Christmas eighteen years ago.

Lupin smiled warmly at him. "I've never taken it off," he said.

Just when he thought Lupin couldn't surprise him any further... Snape stared at the pendant in his hand, and was once more struck speechless. His eyes stung and his throat hurt, and he felt his heart swelling with both tenderness and guilt. He dropped the pendant and reached out to gently stroke Lupin's face, his hand visibly trembling. "You...you kept this," he whispered. "After all these years, after the way I treated you..." Lupin's eyes filled with tears as well, although they were shining with joy, and he was grinning from ear to ear. Unlike Snape, Lupin didn't bother to try and hold the tears back; a single tear, glistening like a diamond, fell from the corner of his eye and trickled down his cheek. Snape leaned over and kissed the tear away, lightly brushing his tongue against Lupin's cheek, savoring the salty-sweet taste. More tears followed, and Snape gently lapped those up as well. "I'm sorry, Remus," he whispered, once more surprised at how easily the words of remorse came to his lips. "That charm didn't bring you much good luck after all."

"Au contraire," Lupin murmured, twining his hands in Snape's hair and pulling his face down to be kissed. "It brought you back to me, so I consider it to be very lucky."

"A pretty slow-acting charm," mumbled Snape, still feeling guilty.

"Then let's not waste any more time," Lupin purred, sending a shiver down Snape's spine.

And they didn't.

***

They made love every night leading up to the full moon. With the sharp edge of their hunger slaked by that first encounter, their lovemaking was less frenzied and more gentle, but Snape still worried that Lupin was too ill to be doing anything remotely strenuous; he had nearly collapsed simply taking a few steps across the room, for God's sake! But Lupin insisted he was fine, claiming that their bedroom activities were "highly therapeutic". And indeed, he did seem a little less pale and weak. Certainly he was energetic enough in bed; in fact, he often had a downright feral look in his eyes that Snape found incredibly erotic. Snape wondered if it had anything to do with his inner wolf and the fact that the full moon was almost upon them. Maybe Lupin's sudden desire for him was just some werewolf hormonal thing... {Then again,} said the sarcastic little voice that Snape had grown used to arguing with over the years, {perhaps he's merely making up for two decades of celibacy. After all, you've been just as frisky as our little werewolf, and the full moon doesn't affect you, so what's your excuse, hmm?}

"Oh, shut up," Snape muttered.

"Did you say something, Severus?" Lupin asked, as he looked up from the papers he was grading at Snape's desk.

"Er...nothing," said Snape, his face flushing slightly. "I was just wondering how you were feeling."

"Fine," said Lupin with a smile. He still looked a little tired and drawn, but nowhere near as bad as he had looked last month.

"Any pain? Nausea?" Snape asked in a clipped, professional tone as he looked Lupin over carefully.

Lupin just grinned at him, a look of amusement in his eyes. "I'm fine, Doctor Snape," he said flippantly. When Snape continued to look at him sternly, he relented and said, "There is some pain, but it's not as bad as it usually is. And I hardly feel nauseous at all. I was actually able to finish my dinner tonight." He grinned again and added, "I notice you have your appetite back, too, Severus."

It was true; his incipient ulcer had vanished, and he attacked his meals with relish. He'd noticed Lupin had also been actually eating his food, and not just picking at it as he normally did this close to his transformation. Snape wanted to keep their relationship a secret, for privacy's sake as well as to keep any Death Eaters from hearing about it, so they continued to squabble at the dinner table. Or rather, Snape would make his usual snide remarks, and Lupin, as usual, would give him a polite smile and ignore him. But every now and then, Lupin's foot would brush against his under the table, or his hand would rest briefly on Snape's thigh, sending his blood racing as Lupin continued to chat nonchalantly with whatever teacher was sitting next to him, a look of hidden merriment dancing in his blue eyes. And Snape would scowl ferociously at Lupin while he privately plotted to get his revenge in bed later by making Lupin beg him for release; not that his own desire would let him torment Lupin for long, but it was a little game they both enjoyed...

Apparently Lupin sensed the direction his thoughts were taking, because he set aside his papers and rose from the desk. He slipped his arms around Snape's waist and nuzzled his neck, whispering, "Ready for another go-round?"

Snape laughed as he ran his hands through Lupin's hair. "My, you are feeling quite healthy for someone who was practically at death's door a few days ago!" Then he paused, his eyes narrowing as he gave Lupin a suspicious look. "It's quite convenient, isn't it, how you always seem to faint when I'm around to catch you?"

"I didn't fake it, if that's what you're asking, Severus," Lupin replied, unoffended. Then he grinned in that mischievous way that Snape found so irresistible, and said, "But I might have, if I had known it would lead to this!"

Snape couldn't help smiling as he stroked Lupin's face, which, flushed with desire, had lost its sickly-looking pallor. "You really do look a lot better," he said.

"It must be your Wolfsbane Potion," said Lupin.

"You took the potion last month and you still looked like crap," Snape said bluntly.

"Well then, it must be you," Lupin laughed. "See, I told you it was therapeutic! So come give me my treatment, Professor Snape..."

Snape let his hand slide down Lupin's face to his chest, where the quartz pendant rested beneath his open shirt. True to his word, Lupin never took it off, not even in bed. Snape ran his fingers over the surface of the stone, reassured by its cold smoothness. Wolfish instincts might account for Lupin's increased desire, but werewolf hormones would not have forced him to wear a childish love-token for nearly twenty years. For once, the sarcastic voice in his head had nothing to say, and Snape sighed with relief as he allowed Lupin to lead him back to the bed.

***

When Lupin did not show up at Snape's dungeon quarters the night of the full moon, Snape took the goblet of Wolfsbane Potion to Lupin's office.

"Oh, thank you, Severus," said Lupin as he drank the potion, hastily gulping it down to avoid tasting it.

"I was expecting you in my quarters," said Snape, frowning at his lover, who seemed to be avoiding his eyes.

"Ah, I think it would be better if I spent the night here," said Lupin nervously. "What with my transformation coming on and all..."

"Wouldn't you like some company?" asked Snape, still frowning.

"Um...I'm not sure that would be such a good idea..." hedged Lupin.

"Why not?" snapped Snape. "You're perfectly harmless when you take the potion." {Not exactly harmless,} the voice in his head pointed out dryly. {Not with that sweet smile and those come-hither eyes...} Snape ignored the voice and continued, "What's the matter, don't you trust the efficacy of my potion? It worked last month, didn't it?"

"That's not what I meant, Severus," said Lupin wearily. "I just meant...the transformation is a very unpleasant process...and it might stir up old memories for you..."

"Oh, I see," said Snape coldly. "It's not the potion, but me, that you don't trust."

"That's not what I meant, Severus!" Lupin repeated in frustration. "I almost killed you that night in the Shrieking Shack! Seeing me transform is bound to provoke an emotional response, no matter what the rational part of your mind knows. And I can't bear to see you look at me that way again--with fear and disgust!" Lupin trembled, a mixture of fear, shame, and hurt in his eyes.

{Old wounds heal slowly, for both of us, it seems,} Snape thought, feeling guilty for forgetting he had not been the only one who had suffered during their long separation. Lupin's white flesh was smooth and unscarred, showing no sign of the bites and scratches he must have inflicted on himself during past transformations, for werewolves healed any non-fatal wounds almost instantaneously. But clearly, there were still scars in his heart, as there were in Snape's.

"Please, Remus," he said quietly. "Let me stay with you. I won't be disgusted, I promise. I assure you I have seen far worse things than a werewolf's transformation during my tenure with Voldemort."

"I don't want you to see me as a monster," Lupin whispered.

"I never saw you as a monster," Snape said, reaching out to touch Lupin's face. Startled blue eyes looked up into his, and Snape continued, "I only said that to hurt you because I was angry."

Bewildered now, Lupin asked, "But...then why...?"

"I never hated you because you were a werewolf," Snape admitted, with great difficulty, because he finally had to also admit that he had been lying to himself all these years. "If you had shared your secret with me, I would have guarded it, guarded you, with my life." He heard his voice quaver slightly, as Lupin stared at him speechlessly. He took a deep breath, and continued in a more steady voice, "I hated you because you shared your secret with your Gryffindor friends but not with me. I hated that you loved and trusted them more than you did me. That was what I could not forgive, not your lycanthropy." {I wanted to be first in your heart,} the voice in his head whispered silently, but he could not quite bring himself to say that out loud.

"Oh, Severus," Lupin whispered. "I didn't love them more, just differently. I had known them longer, and they found out on their own; I never would have had the courage to tell them otherwise. I was so used to having to hide what I was, so used to being frightened and ashamed all the time... I was young, Severus, and terrified that I'd lose you if I told you the truth...but I lost you anyway, didn't I?" He smiled bitterly and said, "So I guess I should have simply told you the truth to begin with. But I was going to, honestly, Severus. I just didn't know how to go about it, so I was going to ask Dumbledore to help me, but then Sirius..." His voice trailed off, and Snape grimaced. "I honestly didn't know what Sirius was going to do, Severus," Lupin said earnestly.

"I know," Snape admitted, letting go of another lie. He managed to smile, although it came out a bit twisted. "You were always too much of a goody-good to do such a thing."

Lupin smiled, albeit a bit tearfully, and said softly, "I'm sorry I hurt you, Severus. I never meant to."

"I know," Snape replied. "So will you let me stay with you tonight?"

"If you really want to..." Lupin said hesitantly, but there was still an apprehensive look in his eyes, and for a moment, he looked young and vulnerable, like a teenager once again.

"I want to show you something," said Snape, unbuttoning his shirt.

"Er...I don't really think there's time for that before the full moon comes up--" Lupin said, giggling nervously.

Snape glared at him. "I'm not going to ravish you, you dolt! I just wanted to show you this--" He pulled open his shirt, exposing his white chest, and Lupin licked his lips despite himself, then stared, all prurient thoughts suddenly forgotten, at the wooden medallion resting on Snape's chest, strung on a piece of black cord.

"You kept this!" Lupin exclaimed. "I wanted to ask, but I was afraid you would tell me you had thrown it away." He reached out and ran his fingers over the serpent he had carved for Severus's Christmas present during their schoolboy days. The edges of the wooden disc were slightly blackened, though, as if they'd been burnt...

"Um...I did throw it in the fire once," Snape said a little sheepishly, "not long after we broke up. But I reached in and grabbed it back right away."

"Did you burn yourself?" Lupin asked, looking concerned.

"Well, yes, but it wasn't so bad," said Snape, still slightly embarrassed by that admission of sentimentality.

"I'm sorry," said Lupin, taking Snape's right hand and covering it with gentle kisses.

"Idiot, it's not as if it still hurts," Snape groused, although he was secretly enjoying the touch of Lupin's lips on his hand. "Er...actually, it was the other hand," he lied. Lupin grinned impishly, but didn't call his bluff, and covered Snape's left hand with kisses as well. Just then, a beam of moonlight fell through the window, and Lupin gasped and dropped Snape's hand.

"Lock the door if you're going to stay," said Lupin hoarsely, and Snape did so. When he turned back, he found Lupin curled up on the floor in a fetal position, groaning in pain. The potion allowed Lupin to keep his sanity in wolf form, but it did nothing to alleviate the pain of the transformation. He screamed as his flesh and bones began to twist and reshape themselves.

Snape went pale, but forced himself to watch, as Lupin clawed at floor, his face tense and sweaty with pain and fear. He appeared to be fighting the transformation, as almost any sane person would, but there was really no point to that, was there, since the change would come no matter how hard he fought it? He thought about how Lupin had joked that their lovemaking had been therapeutic, but what if that had been no jest, but the truth? The two most primal urges of any beast were the need to hunt and the need to mate. Lupin had been healthier this week, so perhaps he could make the transformation easier by giving in to the beast instead of fighting it...

"Don't fight it, Lupin!" Snape shouted. "Give in to the wolf; just let it happen! There's no need to fight it, the potion will keep you safe, I promise. Trust me, Remus, please..."

Lupin forced himself to lie still on the floor, panting heavily. It was still painful, but the change happened more quickly and easily once he stopped fighting it.

Snape watched as Lupin's shape blurred and changed, and then a large brown wolf lay panting on the floor. In spite of himself, he felt a sharp twinge of fear as he remembered the wolf in the Shrieking Shack. But this time the wolf's blue eyes were sane, the same gentle and slightly worried look in them as the human Lupin's eyes. Snape relaxed, and sat down on the floor so he was at eye level with the wolf, slowly extending one hand. The wolf padded over and gave his hand a friendly, tentative lick. Without thinking, Snape stroked the wolf's head and scratched behind its ears, then stopped, horrified at himself for treating Lupin like a pet dog. But the wolf butted its head gently against Snape's hand, obviously urging him to continue. So he continued scratching the wolf behind the ears with one hand, and with the other, scratched under its jaw and in the thick ruff of fur around its neck. Snape found petting the wolf to be oddly soothing, and he murmured, "You're beautiful in any form, Lupin." The wolf laid its head contentedly in Snape's lap, its bushy tail lightly slapping the floor as Snape continued to stroke its fur. "See?" crooned Snape softly. "There was nothing to be afraid of..."

***

Snape woke up the next morning, still propped up in a sitting position against the office wall, with Lupin still lying in his lap, human once again. Snape's back ached and his neck was stiff, but he had never felt better in his life. He grinned as he stroked Lupin's long, silky hair as he had stroked the wolf's shorter, more coarse fur, and the young man lying in his lap blinked sleepily and smiled up at him.

"Good morning, Severus."

"Good morning, Lupin. Have a good night's sleep?"

"The best I've had in years," replied Lupin. "But that position can't have been very comfortable for you."

"Oh, it has its benefits," said Snape, still grinning as he continued to stroke Lupin's hair. He started to lean down to kiss Lupin, but winced as his stiff muscles registered a protest.

"Here, let me," said Lupin, sitting up in one fluid, graceful motion, and began to massage Snape's shoulders and back. Lupin smiled as he watched his lover's face relax, the lines of his face smoothed by a look of contentment he had never seen before, not even when they were boys. He kissed Snape lightly on the cheek, and said softly, "Thank you, Severus."

Snape's smile grew a bit more smug, making him look like the proverbial cat who swallowed the cream, and Lupin repressed a chuckle. "So you trust me now."

"Yes, Severus." Another kiss, this time on the lips. "With my life."

The sarcastic voice in Snape's head tried to think of a snappy comeback but was lulled into silence by the warm glow of contentment slowly spreading through his body, and both Snape and the voice surrendered themselves to Lupin's ministrations.

Part 5, Part 6