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FIC: Phoenix Reborn, Part 5 of 8
Title: Phoenix Reborn, Part 5 of 8
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Snape/Lupin
Word count: ~9,880
Disclaimer: No money is being made off this story; consider it a little wish fulfillment on my part.
Warning: AU; no character death at the end of the story.
Author's note: {} Indicates character's unspoken thoughts
Sequel to: Always (Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6), Summer Vacation (Part 1, Part 2), For Old Time's Sake (Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5), Three's a Crowd (or, Summer Vacation II) (Part 1, Part 2), Return of the Raven (Part 1, Part 2).
Summary: Christmas from Snape's point of view; Snape begins teaching Harry Occlumency.
Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4
***
This was not how Snape had planned to spend the holidays. He had wanted to spend Christmas alone with Lupin, in the werewolf's little cottage in the woods, but Lupin insisted on spending it at Black's house. Molly would need moral support, as well as help looking after the children, since Arthur was in the hospital, Lupin had declared. As far as Snape was concerned, their duties as members of the Order did not include baby-sitting the Weasley brood, but Lupin had always been a soft touch. Lupin had also insisted that he wanted to spend Christmas with Black and Professor Blackmore.
Snape was furious and jealous; he did not want to share Lupin with Black during Christmas--wasn't it bad enough that Lupin was already living with Black? But Lupin could be incredibly stubborn beneath the deceptively meek and passive demeanor he projected most of the time, and he refused to be swayed by any of Snape's arguments.
"Are you saying you'd rather spend Christmas with Black than with me?" Snape snarled.
"I'm saying I want to spend Christmas with all the people I care about," Lupin said, calmly but firmly. "That includes you, as well as Sirius, Harry, and Branwen." Snape scowled at him, and Lupin said softly, "Think of Branwen, Severus. Fourteen years have passed her by, leaving all of her family--except for Regan and Araqiel, of course--and most of her friends dead. We three are practically all she has left. We should not leave her alone at Christmastime."
Snape sulked; he hated it when Lupin made him feel guilty. "She has Black and the Weasleys," he whined, knowing he was only delaying the inevitable.
"She likes Molly and Arthur, but she was never particularly close to them in the old days. Come to think of it, she was never particularly close to anyone. It's odd," Lupin said thoughtfully, "but those years in the Demon Realm have changed her for the better--"
"Speak for yourself," Snape muttered. "I think they've turned her into a meddling voyeur. It's bad enough having Dumbledore prying into our personal lives as it is--"
"--and made her warmer, more human," Lupin continued, ignoring Snape. "Or maybe she's just more willing to show that side of herself now. For some reason, she feels closer to the three of us than to the other members of the Order, even those she worked with in the past. Maybe because we were her students, and it seems she cared about her students in an almost motherly fashion, even though we weren't aware of it at the time. I think she cares in particular for you, Severus." Lupin smiled a little. "Sirius is a little put out that you seem to be her favorite, you know. She has done a great deal for us, both now and in the past, and we should do what we can for her. I think she would like all of us to be together for Christmas."
"Oh, very well," Snape grumbled. He almost threatened to spend Christmas alone if Lupin wouldn't join him, but he was afraid Lupin would call his bluff. And the thought of a Christmas without Lupin was incredibly bleak and uninviting...
"Thank you, Severus," Lupin said, putting his arms around Snape and kissing him on the cheek, all meek and affectionate now that he had gotten what he wanted. He sulked for a little while more, letting Lupin cajole him into a better mood, which happened fairly quickly. Once Lupin began nuzzling at Snape's neck and sliding his hands beneath Snape's robes, his body forgot that it was mad at Lupin; the stubborn little voice inside his head resisted a bit longer, but it was no match for Lupin's nimble hands and the come-hither look in his blue eyes, and Snape sighed and gave in. His last rational thought was, {Lupin claims he isn't an alpha wolf, so why is it that I always seem to end up doing whatever he wants...?}
Lupin really was a conniving little son-of-a-bitch, with a deviousness almost worthy of a Slytherin. After lulling him into relaxing and letting his guard down after an evening of lovemaking, Lupin hit Snape with his next "request": that since they were all spending Christmas together, they ought to get Christmas presents for Blackmore, the Weasleys, and the children.
"Absolutely not!" Snape shouted. "I was going to get something for Branwen, but that's it!"
"Molly's worked so hard cleaning and cooking for all of us--" Lupin protested.
"I never asked her to! I'm quite capable of looking after myself," Snape huffed, but Lupin made puppy-dog eyes at him, and he reluctantly said he supposed that he could spare a bottle or two of healing potion for her--no doubt she could use it, especially with the two older Weasley boys always trying ridiculous and sometimes dangerous experiments. "But I draw the line at getting anything for the brats!" he snarled, crossing his arms over his chest.
"Well, Fred and George aren't in your class anymore, but since you work rather closely with Harry, Ron, and Hermione--"
"ABSOLUTELY NOT!" roared Snape.
In the past, Lupin would have been intimidated by his anger, and backed off. But Lupin seemed to have lost his fear of Snape--or more accurately, his fear of Snape leaving him--right about the time Snape had first said the words "I love you" in Lupin's office, right before he left Hogwarts. Lupin kept nagging, coaxing, and wheedling, ignoring Snape's shouted arguments and stony silence, until Snape finally gave in just to shut him up.
"All right!" Snape shouted. "Enough!" He threw a pouch of coins at Lupin. "Do whatever you like, just don't put my name on the gift tags!"
"Thank you, Severus," Lupin said sweetly. "I wanted to get the children some Potions texts; perhaps you could recommend some titles for me?"
"Weasley and Potter are hopeless, and could use some basic remedial texts, while Miss Granger is more competent..." Snape muttered as he scribbled a few titles on a piece of parchment. He paused and looked at Lupin through narrowed eyes. "I mean it, Lupin; as far as the brats are concerned, these gifts are from you; if you put my name on them, there will be a wolfskin rug lining the floor of my office. Is that clear?"
"Yes, Severus," Lupin said, his blue eyes wide and innocent.
Snape scowled; he didn't trust Lupin when he wore that look on his face. "Anything else you'd like me to do, Lupin?" he asked sarcastically. "Perhaps buy a gift for Sirius Black while I'm at it?"
"I did consider it," Lupin said with a twinkle in his eyes. "But Sirius would probably have a stroke if you did."
Snape should have known better than to trust Lupin. It was bad enough that Lupin made him sit and open presents with everyone in a twisted parody of family togetherness, but he had broken his promise and put Snape's name on the gift tags after all. The children looked like they were going to faint, and Snape felt the urge to go crawl under a rock in complete and utter humiliation. He had to forcibly restrain himself from acting on his next urge, which was to throttle Lupin. Finally, all the presents were opened, and Snape whined, "Can I go NOW?"
"You can take your presents up to your room, certainly," Lupin replied cheerfully. "But don't forget you promised Branwen you'd stay for dinner. And besides--" Lupin leaned over and whispered, "I had planned to spend the day having some truly amazing sex with you."
Snape's face turned beet red, and he stared at Lupin in horror and outrage--he certainly hoped none of the children had overheard Lupin's whisper--and got up and fled to his room.
Lupin entered the room a few minutes later, his arms full of their presents, which he set on the floor. "I'm going to kill you, Lupin," Snape said, a murderous look in his black eyes.
That look would have struck fear into the hearts of his students, but Lupin looked unconcerned. "Oh really?" he asked calmly. "That would be a pity. Then we'll never get around to having that amazing sex I promised you."
Snape raised an eyebrow. "Are you sure you can deliver on that promise, Lupin? 'Amazing' is a very strong word, and I have very high standards."
Lupin just smiled, and began unfastening his robes with tantalizing slowness. "We'll never know if I can live up to those standards or not if we don't try..."
Snape licked his lips and jumped up, his anger suddenly forgotten. "Let me," he purred, as he took over undressing Lupin. "It wouldn't be fair to not let me unwrap my own Christmas present..."
Lupin giggled. "I should have wrapped a bow around myself, then!"
Snape found that Lupin did indeed live up to, and even surpassed, his "very high standards." He was in a much better mood when they finally emerged from their rooms and went downstairs to get some lunch, and his mood was further improved to find that the Weasleys and the brats had gone to the hospital to visit Weasley senior. Even the fact that Black ate lunch with them and Branwen didn't irk Snape as much it normally would have.
After lunch, Branwen was in the mood to hear some Christmas music, so Lupin ran upstairs to fetch his music box. Branwen and Lupin sang along to some Christmas carols, and even coaxed Black and Snape into reluctantly joining them; Snape was still feeling mellow enough not to put up much of a fight. He sang softly, being a little self-conscious, but Branwen told him he had a lovely voice, and Snape blushed but preened a little in spite of himself, and felt a sharp little surge of malicious satisfaction at the look of sulky jealousy on Black's face.
Perhaps trying to ward off an argument between her two former students, Branwen asked Black to dance with her; he looked surprised, but accepted her request with pleasure. Snape watched with a combination of both bemusement and amusement as Branwen took turns dancing with Black and Lupin. How odd, to see the teacher he had so admired and feared, acting as merry and frivolous as a young girl...
Then Branwen was curtsying before him, saying, "May I have the next dance, sir?" He scowled at her, but she dragged him to his feet against his will--she was much stronger than she looked; it must be her demon blood. "Come, Severus, I thought you were too terrified of me to disobey me!" she laughed.
"Well, I wouldn't want your demonic grandfather to put a curse on me," Snape grumbled as he gave in and danced with her, but secretly he was enjoying himself a little. Somewhere along the way, without his really being aware of it, Professor Blackmore--Branwen--had become his friend as well as his teacher and colleague. She had once told him, when he was still her student, that a true friend was a rare treasure. And certainly, Snape had so few friends that he realized he ought to treasure the ones he had. Not that he would ever tell her that, of course. But dancing with Branwen reminded him of the time he had danced with Lupin last Christmas, and Snape grinned, wondering what Black's reaction would be if he danced with Lupin next...
Then Black said, "Don't look now, but we've got company," and Snape looked up to see his three students staring at him in shock. He hastily let go of Branwen and jumped away from her. Lupin made a very poor attempt to stifle his laughter, and Snape shot a quick glare his way before turning to flee the room.
But then Granger was calling out to him, and Snape, whose temper was near its breaking point, shouted, "WHAT IS IT?!" Granger cringed in fear, and Branwen suddenly turned back into stern Professor Blackmore, glaring at in him with near-demonic fury, and he found himself backing down, as if he were a child again. It turned out that Granger had only wanted to give him a Christmas present, in reciprocation for the gifts that Lupin had forced him to buy, and Snape felt his face flush. {Damn that meddling werewolf!} Snape thought, telling himself that he was annoyed, and not one bit touched by her gesture. Really. To add insult to injury, Blackmore made him thank the girl. Honestly, she was acting like his mother, which was perfectly ridiculous, considering that physically, if not chronologically, he was now older than she was. Or at least, she was acting the way Snape imagined a stereotypical mother would; his real mother would never have let a Muggle-born girl into her home. Which reminded him that Dylan Rosier, who was one of his most promising students--provided that Snape could keep him from becoming a Death Eater--had apparently developed some kind of relationship, or at least friendship, with the girl. Wonderful. {What's next?} the sarcastic little voice in his head asked disgruntledly. {Is Lucius Malfoy going to start championing house-elf rights?}
Snape announced to the room that he had endured all the holiday cheer he could stand for one day, and once again turned to leave, and this time Blackmore stopped him. "I know this wasn't exactly your idea of a good time," she said, sounding almost contrite. "Thank you for spending Christmas with us; it meant a lot to me. And could you look up for a second?" Snape gave her a suspicious look before glancing up to see that he was standing beneath a sprig of mistletoe. Before he could react, Blackmore kissed him on the cheek. Snape saw the jaws of his three students drop open in shock. Snape blushed and fled up the stairs, cursing meddling werewolves and teachers under his breath. Lupin was a very bad influence on Blackmore, or maybe it was the other way around; he wasn't really sure, but the two of them together were a very bad combination indeed...
Lupin arrived, chuckling to himself, a minute later. Snape glared at him. "It's not my fault this time, Severus," he laughed, nuzzling Snape's neck affectionately. "It's Branwen you should be mad at, not me."
"This whole thing is your fault," Snape said stubbornly, resolving not to forgive Lupin so easily this time. "If you hadn't insisted on giving the brats presents, if you hadn't insisted that we stay here for Christmas in the first place..." Lupin continued to nuzzle and kiss and caress him, but Snape remained unmoved.
"I'm sorry, Severus," Lupin whispered. "Let me make it up to you." He unfastened his robe and the top few buttons of his shirt, then lay down on the bed and tilted his head back, exposing his throat in that wolfish gesture of submission that never failed to arouse Snape. He wrestled with his self-control for a few moments; self-control lost. Snape leaned over and bit down hard on soft, white flesh of Lupin's neck; the werewolf moaned eagerly, and whatever shreds of self-control that Snape still had left instantly dissolved...
Much later, Snape realized that he had ruined yet another one of Lupin's shabby set of robes. One sleeve was torn nearly completely off the robe, and there were shirt buttons scattered all over the floor. "My, but you were eager," Lupin giggled, trailing a finger down Snape's bare chest.
"And whose fault is that?" Snape asked pointedly.
"Mine," Lupin said happily, sounding proud rather than apologetic.
Snape shook his head slightly, biting back a smile; Lupin really was becoming incorrigible. He reached under the bed, and pulled out a brightly-wrapped package. "I wasn't going to give this to you after the stunt you pulled," he grumbled, "but since I ruined the robe you were wearing..."
"Another present?" Lupin exclaimed, tearing off the wrapping. "Oh, Severus, it's beautiful!" It was a dark blue robe, made of wool that was as plush and soft as velvet, embroidered in a celtic knot design with gold and silver thread around the edges.
Lupin's reaction to his gift pleased Snape, and he smiled in spite of himself. "Well, of course I wasn't going to give that to you in front of Potter and company!"
"Can I wear it to dinner tonight?" Lupin asked, stroking the soft wool.
"Of course, since I ruined your other robe, and I'd rather you didn't prance down to the dinner table naked," Snape retorted with a straight face, and Lupin giggled.
"I don't 'prance,' Severus."
Snape ignored him and continued, "On the condition that you don't tell anyone who gave it to you; if anyone asks, say Dumbledore sent it to you or something. I mean it this time, Lupin; I will kill you if you tell Molly or the brats that it was from me!" But he was uncomfortably aware that his threats were largely empty ones, and what was worse, Lupin was aware of it as well. Somehow the balance of power between them had shifted...no, that wasn't really true. Lupin had always had power over him; he had been obsessed with him ever since they were boys, and that was why he had hated Lupin so much when they were younger, because he had never needed anyone that way before, and he had hated the way that made him feel--weak and helpless.
Lupin seemed to sense his distress, and reached up to stroke his cheek. "All right, Severus, if you insist."
"I do insist!" Snape said sharply. "Remember, you promised to keep our relationship a secret from the children and the other members of the Order, except for Branwen and Black!"
"I remember, Severus," Lupin said quietly. "And I will keep my word."
But he looked sad, which made Snape feel guilty. "It's for your protection and mine," he said in a defensive tone, although Lupin wasn't arguing with him. "If the brats let it slip at school, and word got back to Lucius Malfoy--" But he knew that wasn't the real reason he wanted to keep it secret, and he suspected Lupin knew that, too.
"Shh, Severus," Lupin said, laying a finger across Snape's lips. "I won't say anything, I promise. Just tell me one thing."
"What?" Snape asked, a little suspiciously.
"Do you love me?" Lupin's lips were curved in a playful smile, but his eyes looked anxious.
"Of course I do," Snape snapped, but Lupin didn't look reassured. He sighed and said in a gentler voice, "I love you, Remus."
The anxiety faded from Lupin's blue eyes. "Then it's all right," he said, and lightly kissed Snape on the mouth. "I love you, too, Severus."
Lupin smiled at him in such a warm and tender way that all Snape's irritation and anger melted away. "Just promise me that next year we can spend the holidays alone together; I don't think I can stand another Christmas like this one!"
Lupin laughed. "I can't promise, but I'll do my best!" He kissed Snape again. "Merry Christmas, Severus."
"Merry Christmas, Remus."
***
Snape had to leave the next morning; he had urgent business with both the Death Eaters and Dumbledore. He returned to the house on the last day of the Christmas holidays; not to see Lupin, but to see Potter, on the Headmaster's orders. Lupin wasn't home, but Black was, of course, and he refused to leave the kitchen even though Snape had been instructed to talk to Potter alone. But then Sirius Black had never cared much about rules; typical Gryffindor...
"Er," Potter said nervously.
"Sit down, Potter," said Snape curtly.
"You know," Black said loudly, leaning back on his rear chair legs and staring at the ceiling, "I think I'd prefer it if you didn't give orders here, Snape. It's my house, you see."
Potter hastily took a seat beside Black. For once, Snape wished Branwen were here to put Black in his place. "I was supposed to see you alone, Potter," Snape said, feeling his upper lip curl in a sneer, "but Black--"
"I'm his godfather," Black said loudly.
"I am here on Dumbledore's orders," Snape said, hearing his voice grow quiet and waspish in spite of himself. Black always did know how to provoke him. Potter stared at him nervously, clearly recognizing the danger even if Black didn't--at least the boy had a little more common sense than his godfather! "But by all means stay, Black, I know you like to feel...involved."
"What's that supposed to mean?" Black snapped, letting his chair fall back on all four legs with a loud bang.
"Merely that I am sure you must feel--ah--frustrated by the fact that you can do nothing useful for the Order," Snape said in a falsely-sweet tone of voice, slightly stressing the word "useful." He felt a brief flash of malicious triumph as Black flushed. {Struck a nerve, did I, Black?} Snape turned to Potter and continued, "The Headmaster has sent me to tell you, Potter, that it is his wish for you to study Occlumency this term."
"Study what?"
"Occlumency, Potter," Snape said, as if speaking to an idiot. "The magical defense of the mind against external penetration. An obscure branch of magic, but a highly useful one."
"Why do I have to study Occlu--thing?"
"Because the Headmaster thinks it is a good idea," Snape said smoothly. "You will receive private lessons once a week, but you will not tell anybody what you are doing, least of all Dolores Umbridge. You understand?'
"Yes," Potter replied. "Who's going to be teaching me?"
"I am," Snape said. Although he didn't relish the task, he was rather amused by the boy's look of panic as he turned to his godfather with pleading eyes.
"Why can't Dumbledore teach Harry?" Black snarled. "Why you?"
"I suppose it is a Headmaster's privilege to delegate less enjoyable tasks," Snape said in a silky voice. "I assure you I did not beg for the job." Rising to his feet, he said, "I will expect you at six o'clock on Monday evening Potter. My office. If anybody asks, you are taking Remedial Potions. Nobody who has seen you in my classes could deny you need them."
He turned to leave, but Black called out, "Wait a moment."
Snape turned back, sneering. "I am rather in a hurry, Black...unlike you, I do not have unlimited leisure time..."
"I'll get to the point, then," Black said, standing up. Snape didn't like the look in his face, and slipped his hand into his pocket and grasped his wand. Just in case. Meanwhile, Black was saying, "If I hear you're using these Occlumency lessons to give Harry a hard time, you'll have me to answer to."
"How very touching," Snape sneered. Black was such an idiot; even Lupin realized that Potter was strong enough to handle the tender loving care that Snape lavished on all his students. Snape didn't like Potter one bit, but he had to admit that at least he wasn't a sniveling little whiner like Longbottom. "But surely you have noticed that Potter is very like his father?"
"Yes, I have," said Black proudly.
"Well then, you'll know he's so arrogant that criticism simply bounces off of him," Snape said sleekly, thoroughly enjoying himself.
Black pulled out his wand and strode around the table towards Snape, who whipped out his own wand.
"Sirius!" Potter shouted.
"I've warned you, SNIVELLUS," said Black, leaning close until his face was barely a foot away from Snape's, "I don't care if Dumbledore thinks you've reformed, I know better--"
"Oh, but why don't you tell him so?" whispered Snape. "Or are you afraid he might not take the advice of a man who's been hiding inside his mother's house for six months very seriously?"
"Tell me, how is Lucius Malfoy these days? I expect he's delighted his lapdog's working at Hogwarts, isn't he?"
"Speaking of dogs," Snape said softly, "did you know Lucius Malfoy recognized you the last time you risked a little jaunt outside? Clever idea, Black, getting yourself seen on a safe station platform...gave you a cast-iron excuse not to leave your little hidey-hole in the future, didn't it?"
Black raised his wand, but Potter vaulted over the table and threw himself between them, shouting, "Sirius, don't--"
"Are you calling me a coward?" roared Black, trying to shove Potter out of the way.
"Why, yes, I suppose I am."
"Harry--get--out--of--it!" snarled Black, still pushing at Potter with his free hand.
Just then, the entire Weasley family, plus Granger and Lupin, walked into the kitchen, all looking very happy. "Cured!" Mr. Weasley announced brightly. "Completely cured!" Then he and the others froze at the threshold, gazing at the two wizards who stood with wands pointing in each other's faces, with Harry standing between them, a hand stretched out to each of them, as if trying to force them apart.
"Merlin's beard, what's going on here?" asked Mr. Weasley, the smile sliding off his face.
"Sirius? Severus?" Lupin asked sharply.
Snape and Black both lowered their wands. Snape pocketed his, turned on his heel, and swept back across the kitchen, brushing past the Weasleys without comment. He looked back at the door and said, "Six o'clock Monday evening, Potter."
Lupin flashed a quick glare at Sirius, then hurried after Snape. "Severus, wait!"
"I'm in a hurry, Lupin," Snape said curtly, heading towards the front door. He didn't want to listen to his lover's recriminations.
Lupin grabbed him by the arm, forcing him to stop. "Severus, what happened? Were the two of you about to fight? Have you both lost your minds?!"
"Black took exception to the fact that Dumbledore has ordered me to teach Potter Occlumency," Snape said coldly.
"Occlumency?" Lupin asked, startled. "Because of the dreams?"
"Well, at least someone in this house is able to use their brain," Snape said dryly.
"Not many people are able to perform Occlumency; I didn't know you could."
"How do you think I was able to keep the Dark Lord from realizing I was a spy?" Snape asked sharply, but felt ashamed of himself when Lupin looked hurt. He was angry at Black, but he supposed he shouldn't take it out on Lupin. He said in a contrite tone, "I wasn't trying to hide it; I guess the subject just never came up."
"Thank you for helping Harry," Lupin said gently, reaching up to caress his cheek.
Snape stepped back, flushing. "Not here, Lupin!" he said irritably. "And I assure you I'm only doing it because Dumbledore told me to."
Lupin sighed, in that long-suffering way of his. "Well, I thank you anyway, Severus. So what were you and Sirius fighting about, then?"
"Black seems to think I might be taking advantage of the extra lessons to 'give Harry a hard time,' I believe were the words he used."
Lupin sighed again. "I'll have a word with him." He thought about asking Severus to treat Harry fairly if not kindly, but knew that would probably just make things worse. Well, Harry had survived four and a half years of Potions classes with Severus; a few more lessons wouldn't kill him. "Can't you stay a little longer, Severus?" he asked hopefully.
"I'm sorry, I can't," Snape said regretfully. "I have to get back to school and prepare for classes tomorrow." That was true, but he probably could have squeezed in at least a half-hour with Lupin; however, he didn't think it would be wise for he and Black to be under the same roof right now. "I'll--I'll see you when I can." But he didn't know when that would be, what with his duties as teacher and spy, not to mention the fact that Umbridge was watching all the staff members very closely.
"All right, Severus," Lupin said. "Take care of yourself." He briefly laid a hand on Snape's arm, then let him go.
"Take care of yourself, Lupin," Snape said gruffly, then opened the front door and left.
***
Potter showed up at Snape's office at the appointed time. Snape glared at the boy; he knew it was necessary, but he really didn't want to do this. He didn't want to look into the boy's mind, and he definitely didn't want the boy looking into his. "Well, Potter, you know why you are here. The Headmaster has asked me to teach you Occlumency. I can only hope you prove more adept at it than Potions."
"Right," said Potter tersely.
Snape's eyes narrowed in anger. "This may not be an ordinary class, Potter, but I am still your teacher and you will therefore call me 'sir' or 'Professor' at all times."
"Yes...sir," Potter replied.
Snape didn't like his insolent tone, but he let it pass; he wanted to get this over with. He explained to the boy that Occlumency "seals the mind against magical intrusion and influence."
"And why does Professor Dumbledore think I need it, sir?"
Was the boy a complete idiot? Snape said contemptuously, "Surely even you could have worked that out by now, Potter? The Dark Lord is highly skilled at Legilimency--"
"What's that? Sir?"
"It's the ability to extract feelings and memories from another person's mind--"
"He can read minds?" Potter blurted out.
"You have no subtlety, Potter," Snape said. "You do not understand the fine distinctions. It is one of the shortcomings that makes you such a lamentable potion-maker." He paused for a moment, then continued, "Only Muggles talk of 'mind reading'. The mind is not a book, to be opened at will and examined at leisure. Thoughts are not etched on the inside of skulls, to be perused by any invader. The mind is a complex and many-layered thing, Potter...or at least, most minds are..." He smirked. "It is true, however, that those who have mastered Legilimency are able, under certain conditions, to delve into the minds of their victims and to interpret their findings correctly. The Dark Lord, for instance, almost always knows when somebody is lying to him. Only those skilled at Occlumency are able to shut down those feelings and memories that contradict the lie, and so utter falsehoods in his presence without detection."
"So he could know what we're thinking right now? Sir?"
Snape explained that the Dark Lord was a considerable distance away and that the school was guarded by many protective spells and charms. "Time and space matter in magic, Potter. Eye contact is often necessary in Legilimency."
"Well then, why do I have to learn Occlumency?"
Snape looked at Potter thoughtfully, absent-mindedly tracing his mouth with one long, thin finger. "The usual rules do not seem to apply with you, Potter. The curse that failed to kill you seems to have forged some kind of connection between you and the Dark Lord. The evidence suggests that at times, when your mind is most relaxed and vulnerable--when you are asleep, for instance--you are sharing the Dark Lord's thoughts and emotions. The Headmaster thinks it inadvisable for this to continue. He wishes me to teach you how to close your mind to the Dark Lord."
Potter seemed puzzled, pointing out that his dream had saved Mr. Weasley's life. "...I saw that snake attack Mr. Weasley and if I hadn't, Professor Dumbledore wouldn't have been able to save him, would he? Sir?"
Snape stared at Potter for a long moment, still tracing his mouth with his finger, then spoke slowly and deliberately. "It appears that the Dark Lord has been unaware of the connection between you and himself until very recently. Up till now it seems that you have been experiencing his emotions and sharing his thoughts without his being any the wiser. However, the vision you had shortly before Christmas--"
"The one with the snake and Mr. Weasley?"
"Do not interrupt me Potter," Snape said in a dangerous voice. "As I was saying...the vision you had shortly before Christmas represented such a powerful incursion into the Dark Lord's thoughts--"
"I saw inside the snake's head, not his!"
"I thought I told you not to interrupt me, Potter!"
"How come I saw through the snake's eyes if it's Voldemort's thoughts I'm sharing?"
"DO NOT SAY THE DARK LORD'S NAME!" spat Snape, hating himself for the sudden surge of fear he felt, and hating Potter for making him expose himself that way.
Potter glared at him for moment, then said quietly, "Professor Dumbledore says his name."
"Dumbledore is an extremely powerful wizard," Snape muttered. "While HE may feel secure enough to use the name...the rest of us..." He unconsciously rubbed his left forearm where the Mark was branded.
"I just wanted to know why--" Potter said in a more subdued voice.
"The Dark Lord was in the snake's mind at that particular moment," snarled Snape. "He was possessing the snake at the time, and so you dreamed you were inside it too..."
"And Vol--he--realized I was there?"
"It seems so," said Snape coolly.
"How do you know? Is Professor Dumbledore just guessing, or--"
This line of questioning was getting dangerous. Snape knew, because the Dark Lord had told his Death Eaters, but he certainly wasn't going to tell Potter that. "I told you to call me 'sir,'" he said coldly.
"Yes, sir, but how do you know--" Potter began.
"It is enough that we know," Snape said, firmly cutting him off. Snape explained, though it should have been obvious, that Voldemort had deduced that he might be able to reverse the process and access Potter's thoughts and feelings in return.
"And he might try and make me do things?" Potter asked, sounding alarmed--finally. "Sir?"
"He might," Snape said in a cold voice, as it mattered to him not at all. "Which brings us to Occlumency." He took his wand and placed its tip against his temple, and began withdrawing his thoughts, which the wand drew out in gossamer silver strands, and placed them in the Pensieve sitting on his desk. There was a chance that during their lessons, Potter might be able to touch his thoughts, and Snape had a great many thoughts that he did not want Potter to see. Of course, he couldn't remove every dangerous or embarrassing thought he had, or there would be nothing left in his head at all, but he removed what he considered to be the most sensitive memories, most of them involving Potter's father and Lupin during their schoolboy days at Hogwarts. When he was finished, he carefully set the Pensieve aside on a shelf out of their way, and returned to face Potter.
"Stand up and take out your wand, Potter," Snape ordered. The boy obeyed, looking nervous. "You may use your wand to attempt to disarm me, or defend yourself in any other way you can think of." Potter stared at him suspiciously, apparently not quite believing that his teacher was inviting Potter to attack him. {Come, Potter,} he thought in dark amusement. {I thought you would leap at the chance!}
"And what are you going to do?" Potter asked apprehensively.
"I am about to attempt to break into your mind," Snape said softly. "We are going to see how well you resist. I have been told that you have already shown aptitude for resisting the Imperius Curse... You will find that similar powers are needed for this... Brace yourself now...Legilimens!" Snape attacked, and a series of images flickered before his eyes: a fat boy riding a red bicycle; a dog chasing Potter up a tree while the fat boy and what looked to be his parents laughed; Potter sitting under the Sorting Hat; Granger in the hospital wing, her face covered with thick black hair; Dementors swarming around Potter beside the lake; the face of a girl...Cho Chang, the Ravenclaw Seeker...
{No!} Snape heard Potter shout, but in his mind, not aloud. {You're not watching that; you're not watching it, it's private--}
A sharp pain stung Snape's wrist, breaking his concentration, and thus, the spell. He lowered his wand and rubbed his wrist. Potter was kneeling on the floor, looking angry and shaken.
"Did you mean to produce a Stinging Hex?" Snape asked coolly.
"No," said Potter bitterly as he got to his feet.
"I thought not," Snape said. He had expected more from Potter, considering how he had resisted the Dark Lord last summer. "You let me get in too far. You lost control."
"Did you see everything I saw?" Potter asked nervously.
"Flashes of it," Snape said. The fat boy and his parents were probably Potter's Muggle family; quite an unpleasant lot, apparently. For a moment, he almost felt sorry for the boy, and Snape sneered in an attempt to ward off the unexpected and unwanted surge of sympathy. "To whom did the dog belong?"
"My Aunt Marge," Potter muttered.
"Well, for a first attempt that was not as poor as it might have been," Snape admitted. "You managed to stop me eventually, though you wasted time and energy shouting. You must remain focused. Repel me with your brain and you will not need to resort to your wand."
"I'm trying!" Potter protested. "But you're not telling me how!"
"Manners, Potter," Snape said coldly, and the boy glared at him. "Clear your mind, Potter," Snape instructed. "Let go of all emotion..." He could still feel Potter's anger at him coursing through his mind. "You're not doing it Potter... You will need more discipline than this... Focus, now... Let's go again...on the count of three...one--two--three--Legilimens!" This time he saw a dragon, then James and Lily Potter waving from inside a mirror, then Diggory's dead body lying on the ground...
"NOOOOOOO!" Potter screamed, falling to his knees.
"Get up!" Snape said, fear and anger making his voice sharp. The boy was letting him in too easily; he would never be able to block Voldemort this way! "Get up! You are not trying, you are making no effort, you are allowing me access to memories you fear, handing me weapons!" Above all else, Snape feared exposing his emotions and weaknesses to anyone but Lupin, and he could not understand how the boy could expose himself so, why he wasn't fighting harder to block Snape, whom he after all considered an enemy of sorts...
"I--am--making--an--effort," Potter said through clenched teeth.
"I told you to empty yourself of emotion!"
"Yeah? Well, I'm finding that hard at the moment!" Potter snarled.
"Then you will find yourself easy prey for the Dark Lord!" Snape said savagely. Didn't the boy understand what was at stake here? "Fools who wear their hearts proudly on their sleeves, who cannot control their emotions, who wallow in sad memories and allow themselves to be provoked this easily--weak people, in other words--they stand no chance against his powers! He will penetrate your mind with absurd ease, Potter!"
"I am not weak," Potter said in a low, angry voice.
"Then prove it! Master yourself! Control your anger, discipline your mind! We shall try again! Get ready, now! Legilimens!" More flashes of memories--the unpleasant Muggle man, more dementors, Arthur Weasley running down a windowless corridor...a black door at the end of it... Snape realized that Potter was seeing the Department of Mysteries, and quickly broke off the spell.
"I KNOW! I KNOW!" shouted Potter from the floor where he had fallen on all fours.
"What happened then, Potter?" Snape asked, staring at the boy intently.
"I saw--I remembered...I've just realized..."
"Realized what?" asked Snape sharply.
"What's in the Department of Mysteries?"
"What did you say?" Snape whispered, a sudden chill feeling of fear clutching at his heart. The connection between Voldemort and Potter was deeper than he had thought--dangerously so; the boy should not have known that...
"I said, what's in the Department of Mysteries, SIR?"
"And why would you ask such a thing?" Snape asked slowly.
"Because that corridor I've just seen--I've been dreaming about it for months--I've just recognized it--it leads to the Department of Mysteries...and I think Voldemort wants something from--"
"I HAVE TOLD YOU NOT TO SAY THE DARK LORD'S NAME!" screamed Snape. This was not good; here he was telling the boy to empty himself of emotions, while Snape was losing control of his. He tried to get a grip on himself, and attempted to speak in a cool, unconcerned manner, but wasn't sure he entirely succeeded. "There are many things in the Department of Mysteries, Potter, few of which would understand and none of which concern you, do I make myself plain?"
"Yes," said Potter, rubbing the scar on his forehead, which further unnerved Snape.
Snape decided that was enough for one night; he didn't think he could take anymore even if the boy could. He told the boy to come back on Wednesday, and ordered him to work on emptying his mind of emotions. He took down the Pensieve and began replacing his thoughts back in his head although he wished he could permanently rid himself of some of them...
***
The very next day, the Daily Prophet reported that nine Death Eaters had broken out of Azkaban. Snape had known the Dark Lord had been planning something, but not precisely what. Perhaps Voldemort still didn't completely trust him.
And soon, the High Inquisitor of Hogwarts, that toad Umbridge, had issued a decree stating that teachers were banned from giving students information not strictly related to the subjects they were paid to teach. Which meant none of the staff could discuss current events, such as the prison break, with their students, and incidentally, meant that Snape was breaking the law by giving Potter Occlumency lessons. Although if that were discovered, Snape would be much more worried about Voldemort's reaction than the Ministry's...
***
The students had been given the day off on Valentine's Day, so Snape snuck out of the castle, taking care that no one saw him leave, and met Lupin at the werewolf's cottage in the woods, as they had previously arranged. Snape absolutely refused to put up with the snide remarks Black would undoubtedly come up with if he showed up at the Phoenix headquarters with flowers and chocolates. Well, with chocolates and a bottle of wine, actually; Snape had been too embarrassed to actually purchase flowers. Snape bought candy all the time in Hogsmeade, but it would probably cause a great deal of gossip if someone spotted the Potions Master buying flowers on Valentine's Day.
Lupin Apparated into the cottage a minute after Snape arrived. He apparently had not had any similar reservations, because he was holding a bouquet of roses and a huge heart-shaped box of candy. "Happy Valentine's Day, Severus!" Lupin said, giving him a kiss and handing him the presents.
"Thank you, Remus," Snape said, blushing slightly. "Here, these are for you," he said a little gruffly, handing Lupin the bottle of wine and a box--square, not heart-shaped--of Honeydukes fudge.
"Thank you, Severus," Lupin said, sounding pleased. He really looked gorgeous--he was wearing the robe Snape had given him for Christmas, a dark blue trimmed with gold and silver embroidery. Snape reached over and ran his hand through Lupin's gold-and-silver hair, which to him, was much more beautiful than the gilt thread on the robe. Lupin smiled at him, that familiar mischievous gleam in his eyes. "Do you remember what you told me once, when I was teaching at Hogwarts?"
"I told you a great many things, Lupin," Snape said, feigning a haughty tone. "I can't possibly remember them all."
Lupin opened the box Snape had handed him and popped a piece of fudge into his mouth. He chewed and swallowed, then said, "You told me chocolate was an aphrodisiac."
"That's right," Snape murmured. "Does it seem to be working?"
In response, Lupin kissed him, long and slow. His lips parted willingly for Snape's probing tongue, and Snape tasted the sweetness of chocolate still lingering in his lover's mouth.
"Yes," Snape said huskily. "It seems to be working. Even a trace amount is sufficient, it seems..."
Lupin smiled, his blue eyes glassy with desire, and tugged on the front of Snape's robe, slowly stepping backwards in the direction of the bedroom as he said, "Shall we conduct some research, Professor Snape?"
"Yes, for the sake of science," Snape agreed, letting Lupin lead him to bed.
Much later, Snape leaned back on Lupin's couch; the owner of that couch was sitting on Snape's lap feeding him chocolates from the now half-empty heart-shaped box on the table beside them.
"How's that aphrodisiac working, Severus?" Lupin asked slyly.
"I'm not as...shall we say...resilient as a werewolf," Snape said dryly. "Give me some time to recover." Lupin laughed, and Snape smiled, drinking in the sight of him.
"You look like you'd like to eat me up, Severus," Lupin said, laughing again.
"Perhaps later," Snape purred.
Lupin blushed and reached for the glass of wine on the table and took a sip. Then he offered it to Snape, holding it to his lips as he drank. "That's what's known as an indirect kiss, you know," he said playfully.
"What?"
"Two people drinking from the same glass."
"Where on earth did you get that from?"
"From a manga comic book that Miyako sent me. There's a teenage couple sitting in a cafe, you see, and--"
"Honestly, Lupin, you'll rot your brain with those things."
Lupin just laughed. "Speaking of teenagers, how are the Occlumency lessons going with Harry?"
Snape scowled. "Do we have to talk about Potter NOW?" he asked waspishly.
"I'm concerned, Severus," Lupin said seriously. "It isn't safe for Harry to write to us, so he hasn't been able to tell us how things are going." In a lighter tone he added, gently running a finger over Snape's pouting lips, "Besides, we have to do something while we're waiting for you to, ah, 'recover'..." Snape flushed slightly, and Lupin leaned over and whispered into his ear, "We can end the conversation as soon as you feel up to returning to the bedroom."
Snape's blush grew deeper, and he gave the werewolf a suspicious look. "It's not close to the full moon yet, is it?"
Lupin smiled back at him innocently. "No, I guess it must be all the chocolate..."
Snape sighed and gave in. "Actually, I'm worried about Potter. He's not progressing as fast he should be. He seems to have difficulty emptying his mind of emotions; he lets his anger control him--"
"He's just a child, Severus. Most children his age have trouble controlling their emotions--"
"Most boys his age don't have the Dark Lord prying around inside their heads!" snapped Snape. "He's seeing things he shouldn't, Lupin! He's seen the Department of Mysteries!" Lupin looked alarmed. "He's too close to Vol--to the Dark Lord! He doesn't even seem to be trying!"
Lupin gently stroked his lover's face, trying to calm him down. "I know it's difficult, Severus, but please be patient with him. It might be hard for you to understand, because you had such control over your emotions at his age, but most children don't--"
"I learned in self-defense," Snape said in a low voice. "Fear is a good teacher. And the stakes are even higher for Potter than they were for me."
Lupin felt that familiar feeling of sorrow mingled with tenderness that he always felt whenever Severus talked about his childhood. He wished he had been able to protect Severus from all the people who had hurt him; his feelings were also tinged with guilt because some of the people who had hurt him had been Lupin's friends... He kissed his lover on the forehead and said, "I think he's probably trying to empty his mind of emotions as you've instructed, but he doesn't really know how. Aren't there some--I don't know, breathing or meditation techniques you can teach him that would help?"
"I don't know," Snape mumbled. "I'll try."
"Thank you, Severus."
Snape scowled at him again. "You know, all this talk about Potter isn't really helping to put me in the mood..."
Lupin smiled and let him change the subject. "How about this, then?" he asked, tilting his head back and exposing his throat. "Does that put you in the mood?"
Apparently it did. Snape wrapped his arms around Lupin's waist, pulling him closer, then kissed Lupin's throat, biting and sucking at the soft skin there. Lupin growled softly, a low, hungry sound.
"I think," Snape said in a slightly hoarse voice, "I'm sufficiently recovered. Shall we retire to the bedroom, then?"
"What's wrong with right here?" Lupin growled.
"Are you SURE it's not the full moon?" But Snape laughed and pushed his lover down onto the couch. "We're behaving like hormonal teenagers, making out on the couch..."
"I don't recall making out on a couch when we were teenagers, do you?"
"Well, no..."
"So we should try it at least once, don't you think?"
Snape agreed. Their exertions tumbled them off the couch onto the floor, but by then they were so caught up in passion that they barely noticed...
***
"You're still having trouble emptying your mind, Potter." Snape added in a snide tone, "I wouldn't expect you, of all people, to find that so difficult."
"I'm trying...sir," Harry said, grinding his teeth in frustration.
He expected Snape to berate him further, but instead his teacher just frowned for a moment, then said, "Take a deep breath, Potter. Hold it. Now let it out. Again. Keep doing that at the same pace, and imagine your anger, your emotions leaving your body as you exhale."
Harry was surprised to find that did calm him down a bit. {He could have just told me that from the start,} he thought a bit disgruntledly, then realized he was starting to get agitated again, and took a deep breath and exhaled.
"Good," said Snape in a tone of grudging approval. He paused, seeming to think for a moment, then said in a soft voice, "Imagine building a brick wall around your inner self--impenetrable, unbreachable; no one can touch you or your emotions..."
Harry stared at his teacher; was that what Snape had done as part of his Occlumency training? But the Potions Master's black eyes were unreadable. Harry tried to picture the brick wall in his mind, though he felt a little silly doing so, but imagined laying brick and mortar, tried to picture a wall solid enough to keep Voldemort out...
"Prepare yourself, Potter. We shall begin. One--two--three--Legilimens!"
The brick wall was apparently not solid enough; Harry found himself kneeling on the floor again.
"Get up, Potter," Snape said impatiently. "The last memory, what was it?"
"I don't know," Harry said wearily; the memories had all been blurred together. "You mean the one where my cousin tried to make me stand in the toilet?"
"No," said Snape softly. "I mean the one concerning a man kneeling in the middle of a darkened room..."
"It's...nothing," said Harry. Snape's dark eyes bored into his, and remembering what Snape had said about eye contact and Legilimency, Harry blinked and looked away.
"How do that man and that room come to be inside your head, Potter?"
"It--it was--just a dream I had," Harry said, still avoiding Snape's gaze.
"A dream." Snape paused, then said in a very quiet, deadly voice, "You do know why we are here, don't you, Potter? You do know why I am giving up my evenings to this tedious job?"
"Yes," said Harry stiffly.
"Remind me why we are here, Potter."
"So I can learn Occlumency."
"Correct, Potter. And dim though you may be, I would have thought that after two months' worth of lessons you might have made some progress. How many other dreams about the Dark Lord have you had?"
"Just that one," Harry lied, glaring at Snape.
Snape narrowed his eyes suspiciously. "Perhaps...perhaps you actually enjoy having these visions and dreams, Potter. Maybe they make you feel special--important?"
"No, they don't," Harry protested, his fingers clenching tightly around the handle of his wand.
"That is just as well, Potter," Snape said coldly, "because you are neither special nor important, and it is not up to you to find out what the Dark Lord is saying to his Death Eaters."
"No--that's your job, isn't it?" Harry shot back, before he could stop himself. He waited for Snape to yell at him, to take points off Gryffindor, to sneer at him that he could not control his emotions. But there was a curious, almost satisfied expression on Snape's face when he answered.
"Yes, Potter," Snape said, his dark eyes glinting. "That is my job. Now, if you are ready, we will start again. One--two--three--Legilimens!"
Harry tried to concentrate this time, tried to imagine the brick wall protecting him. He could see a hundred Dementors swooping towards him from the lake...but he could also see Snape standing in front of him, muttering under his breath...and Snape was growing clearer while the Dementors were growing fainter. It was working!
Harry raised his own wand and shouted, "Protego!"
Snape staggered, his wand flew upward, away from Harry--and suddenly Harry's mind was teeming with memories that were not his: A pale, hook-nosed man shouted at a small dark-haired boy who was crying, a broken toy lying on the floor at his feet; the man raised a wand, and then the boy was writhing on the floor screaming in pain, while a beautiful woman with dark hair and golden-tan skin watched, a cold and indifferent expression on her face... A greasy-haired teenager lay in dark bedroom, pointing his wand and shooting down the flies that flitted in through the open window... The same boy, a year or two younger, lay sprawled in the mud, while another boy--Harry realized it was a young Lupin--smiled and held out a hand to him--
"ENOUGH!"
Harry staggered back, feeling as though he had been pushed hard in the chest; he hit some of the shelves lining the office wall and heard something crack. Snape was shaking slightly, and was even paler than usual. Harry felt something wet on the back of his robes, and realized one of the jars he had bumped into had cracked and was leaking.
"Reparo!" hissed Snape, and the jar sealed itself once more. "Well, Potter," Snape said, his voice a little shaky, "that was certainly an improvement. Panting slightly, he straightened the Pensieve, as if to make sure his thoughts were still in there. "I don't remember telling you to use a Shield Charm...but there is no doubt that it was effective..."
Harry remained silent, afraid to say anything; he was certain he had broken into Snape's memories, and he was sure his teacher wasn't too happy about that, even if he had made progress. Harry wasn't too thrilled about it himself. He was sure those memories were scenes from Snape's childhood, and the thought that the crying little boy was the bitter man standing in front of him was extremely unnerving. Even more unnerving was the fact that Snape's father had used what appeared to be a Cruciatus Curse on young Snape, who could not have been more than five or six. Was that why Snape had turned out to have such a nasty, sour disposition? The thought was very disturbing; Harry hated Snape--he did not want to feel sorry for Snape, whose sole joy in life seemed to be tormenting Harry.
"Let's try again, shall we?" Snape's tone of voice was neutral, but there was a look of intense loathing in his eyes, and Harry felt sure he was about to pay for what had just happened. They moved back into position with the desk between them; Harry felt sure it would be much harder to empty his mind this time.
"On the count of three, then. One--two--three--Legilimens!"
Harry had no time to do the breathing exercise or build up the wall in his mind. He found himself hurtling down the corridor toward the Department of Mysteries, the black door up ahead growing every larger, and he could see a faint blue light emanating from behind the door. The door flew open, and he was through it at last, in a circular room with black walls and floor lit by blue-flamed candles. There were doors all around him--he needed to go on--but which door to take--?
"POTTER!" screamed Snape.
Harry opened his eyes, finding himself flat on his back on the floor. Snape was standing over him looking furious--and possibly a little frightened? "Explain yourself!" shouted Snape.
"I...dunno what happened," said Harry, sitting up. "I've dreamed about the door...but it's never opened before..."
"You are not working hard enough!" Snape snarled. For some reason, he seemed even angrier than he had been after Harry had seen into his own memories a few minutes ago. "You are lazy and sloppy, Potter," Snape was ranting, "it is small wonder that the Dark Lord--"
"Can you tell me something, SIR?" said Harry angrily. "Why do you call Voldemort the Dark Lord, I've only ever heard Death Eaters call him that--"
Snape opened his mouth, but before he could speak, a woman's voice screamed from somewhere outside the room. "What the--?" he muttered, gazing up at the ceiling. The sounds of a muffled commotion could be heard; it seemed to be coming from the entrance hall. "Did you see anything unusual on your way down here, Potter?" Snape asked. He was frowning, but now looked more concerned than angry. Harry shook his head. From above them, the woman screamed again. Without another word, Snape left his office, wand still held at the ready, and Harry followed him.
They arrived to find Professor Trelawney in hysterics, which were probably partially fueled by the now-empty sherry bottle in one hand. It soon became clear that Umbridge had fired her and was about to throw her out of the castle. Even though he thought she was a lousy teacher, Harry still felt a little sorry for her. Snape watched with an expressionless face, but his jaw dropped open when Dumbledore announced that he was giving Trelawney permission to live at the castle even though she was no longer a teacher. Umbridge looked even more shocked, and a great deal more unhappy. But she was about to get an even bigger shock--Dumbledore introduced their new Divinations teacher, the centaur Firenze. Snape slipped off, heading back towards the dungeons, but he didn't seem to expect Harry to follow him, which was a relief; it was probably best to let Snape have a chance to cool off before their next lesson.
Part 6, Part 7, Part 8
Missing Part 6
Anyway I'd thought I'd let you know and I hope to read the rest of this excellent series soon!
Re: Missing Part 6
Thank you for reading, and I'm glad you're enjoying the series!
Re: Missing Part 6