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It appeared that Remus Lupin really had loved the girl.
Severus had silently recoiled from the werewolf's naked grief as Nymphadora Tonks was interred with all the ceremony due an Auror killed in the line of duty. Sympathy had never been one of Snape's strengths but Lupin's very obvious pain was intimidating.
He'd had no idea how to handle it - not that he could get within fifty feet of Lupin anyway, not with the buffer of Weasleys and other assorted Gryffindors. His friends.
Standing at the back of the assembly Snape kept his expression impassive as he feigned attention to the bleating eulogies for the 'bright spirit', the 'dedicated enforcer'. It was a shame Tonks had died but even if she'd lived she wouldn't have had her claws in Lupin for very much longer - Snape was absolutely certain of that. The werewolf was his, bought and paid for with his soul and a lifetime of humiliation and misery.
At Dumbledore's bidding Snape had debased himself again and again in the name of the Light. He'd deliberately smothered any shred of decency and finer feelings in his efforts to bring down the Dark Lord. And were his sacrifices commended? Acknowledged? Were they fuck! An Order of Merlin, second class, a blanket pardon for his 'crimes', and a grudging invitation to the gala affair where the real heroes – the Orders of Merlin, first class – were feted.
It was some sort of comfort to learn that Lupin had also only received a second class OoM. The sardonic look they'd shared when the list was read out had warmed Snape's heart and reaffirmed his conviction that he and Lupin were well suited. They thought the same; they felt the same.
The Minister had talked and talked, vainly attempting to give Tonk's death some meaning. Snape ruthlessly repressed the urge to snort: the witch hadn't 'died bravely', she'd just died. There'd been nothing romantic about Tonk's demise, he should know!
It was purest luck he'd stumbled over the combatants. If he'd realised the Aurors were dark-wizard hunting in that particular area he wouldn't have come within miles of the place. There were still those who considered him as guilty as sin, and if he was 'accidentally' hit by a stray curse, then, oh well, no one would mourn.
Severus had quickly assessed the scene from the shadows: it was clear to him what had happened. The stupid girl had become separated from her partner and thought she could handle – Snape peered at the battered, bleeding wizard sprawled in the alley – Paynton by herself. However, it looked as though Paynton had got off some curses of his own before he was knocked out. Snape prowled closer. Tonks was in a bad way; she'd only been fighting to subdue her quarry but he hadn't been held to such niceties.
In Snape's professional opinion there was nothing he could do for her. He wasn't certain he could counter the effects of the various curses without further damage and neither did he want to risk apparating Tonks to St Mungo's for the same reasons. She was in agony, the life was bleeding out of her before his eyes and he thought it unlikely she'd survive until medical help – or her Auror partner - arrived.
It was a mercy killing, carried out with Paynton's wand, naturally. Tonks had died quietly, face down in assorted refuse. She'd been a rival, true, but there'd been no triumph in her death, merely a sense of business concluded. Moreover, it was Paynton who was ultimately responsible for murdering the Auror, Snape had simply eased her passing.
Even with his way clear Severus had resisted the urge to approach Lupin. He hadn't survived two wars by engaging in reckless action, and he wasn't going to sabotage his future happiness by doing so now. He could wait – Lupin was worth it – but that didn't mean he would absent himself entirely from his werewolf's life in the meantime.
The simplest – and most plausible – excuse he had was of course the Wolfsbane potion. He'd been delivering it to Lupin in person since the end of the war and now, subsequent to some minor tweaking of the recipe, he had a reason to see the werewolf weekly, to ostensibly chart his progress and check for any adverse reactions.
Lupin accepted the reasons for the potion masters increased presence without batting an eyelid, and sometimes – to Snape's hidden triumph – he even seemed to appreciate the company. This observation was borne out when the werewolf accepted his casual invitation for a drink.
As Snape had planned, these excursions became part of Lupin's weekly routine, serving a two-fold purpose. First, it gave him a chance to spend time with his intended, and second, it accustomed Lupin's friends to his being there with him. Snape had no illusions about the reactions their 'becoming a couple' would engender, but if there was a previous history of regular contact, a forming of a friendship, it would allay some suspicions.
Finally, after five months of generally friendly contact and a – carefully structured on Snape's part – gradual 'opening up' to each other, Severus judged the werewolf ready to pluck.
It was ridiculously easy to spike his drinks with a combined brew of relaxant and inebriation potions.
"Think I've had too much, Sev'rus." Lupin slurred, frowning. "Why'd I drink so much?"
Snape lightly grasped his chin, encouraging the werewolf into eye-contact.
"You'd decided it was time to move on from Tonks." He spoke with calm authority. "You were saying goodbye…" He watched, pleased, as the suggestion took root in Lupin's fuddled mind.
"I'll miss her." The werewolf sounded more thoughtful than mournful.
"You will, but as you said, it's time to move on."
Lupin nodded absently.
"Better go home. Can you help? Don't think I can appa… apparate."
"Of course. Finish your drink and we'll leave."
The werewolf frowned again, obviously puzzling through something.
"Finish m' drink? Haven't I had 'nough?"
"Be a shame to waste it." Snape shrugged. It would be – the dregs of this glass contained a mild aphrodisiac.
"'kay…" Lupin drained his glass. "Whoa." He blinked rapidly. "Is it warm in here?"
"Yes." Snape helped him to his feet. "Let's get you home."
The werewolf was visibly aroused by the time they stumbled into his tiny flat.
"Sev'rus…" he pushed in closer to his companion, blatantly frotting against his groin. "Been so long…"
"I know." Snape whispered, elated, leaning down to brush his lips against Lupin's. They'd both waited so long.
"Come to bed." Lupin was panting.
Snape allowed himself to be dragged through to the bedroom but from there he slyly took control of the proceedings. Lupin had previously confessed to liking both men and women, but had only ever topped with a man. After tonight Snape would let him top whenever he wanted but at this moment it was imperative that Lupin bottom.
The werewolf was in no state to argue when Snape was through warming him up - the aphrodisiac and some adroit fingering had seen to that. With his cock poised ready, Snape paused to relish the moment.
Lupin was bent almost double, his legs over Snape's shoulders. Flushed, dishevelled, amber eyes dark and glazed with desire, he was the most beautiful thing Severus had ever seen.
Lupin was still under the effect of the relaxant potion so there was no pain as Snape plunged in. He groaned, a lush sound of need, and canted his hips up to meet the thrusts, then gasped, eyes going wide as his prostate was nudged again and again.
"It's good, isn't it?" Snape murmured hoarsely. "We are so good together."
"Yes…" Lupin shuddered, his eyes closing and fingers tangling in the bed sheets as he came, hard.
"So beautiful…" Severus gasped and then he too was coming.
There would be plenty of opportunity in the future to savour the afterglow but right now Severus had a task to complete.
He pulled out of Lupin then wriggled down his body until he was lying with his shoulders between the werewolf's quivering thighs. Silently summoning his wand he pressed the tip into the soft flesh at the juncture of thigh and groin, halfway along the perineum. He whispered an incantation and there was a tiny flash of light. Snape peered at the minute rune inscribed into Lupin's flesh. It would be well hidden, not likely to be found by a casual inspection of the werewolf's body - and no one else would ever again be so intimately placed as Snape was now.
Working quickly, Snape pricked his left thumb with his wand, releasing a drop of blood. He smeared the drop over the rune and incanted the next part of the spell. He scooped up a dribble of Lupin's semen, and of his own from where it was leaking out of the werewolf's arse, and rubbed their combined essence into the mark. A final, whispered incantation, and the enchantment was sealed.
There were some who'd inevitably see a blood-binding as something Dark, but in Snape's mind this wasn't 'capital D' dark, though he'd admit it was somewhat unethical.
Between his orgasm and the wearing off of the alcohol and potions, the werewolf had fallen asleep while Snape worked. Weary himself, Severus crawled up to lie contentedly beside his lover. He'd suffered much and now he would have his reward. Finally the wretchedness he'd endured would be made worthwhile.
When the werewolf awoke the following morning he didn't question his sudden attachment to Snape, in fact he smiled lazily at the man in his bed and suggested they share a house.
"I always knew you were impulsive, Lupin." Severus smirked, leaning over to kiss him. "Are you sure?"
"Yes. I'm sure." He nipped Snape's throat. "Want you."
"Your friends will have something to say."
"I don't care." Lupin gazed at him with absolute sincerity. "I don't care."
~~~oOo~~~
Potter in particular was most vocal about his doubts, though Snape discounted the brat's potential influence. No, the danger here was the Granger girl – too clever for her own good. If any of them would be able to deduce what had happened to Lupin it was her. Snape actually contemplated getting rid of the meddlesome witch but decided against it at the last because Lupin didn't deserve to suffer any more grief from loss.
No, it made more sense to simply… remove his lover from the company of those who would work against them. Snape began his campaign, dripping figurative poison in the werewolf's ear about his friends. Just a drop, every now and again, subtle and insidious, until Lupin came home in high temper after an evening at the Weasleys.
"If they can't accept our relationship – " the werewolf had snarled. "Well, fuck them!"
It was done: Lupin was his alone. In his mind's eye Snape spat in to Sirius Black's hated face…
They settled in to Snape's family home, and Lupin – wielding wand and paintbrush - set to with a will bringing light and brightness to the shabby little house. Watching the transformation of the place he'd grown up loathing, Severus felt vindicated. He'd known having Lupin in his life would wipe out all the old unpleasantness, he'd known for years. The werewolf was his talisman.
For the first time in memory Snape found his life full and satisfying. At last he could finally understand what it was to have a simple, normal life with someone you loved.
They had no deliberate contact with the Lupin's friends, with anyone really. The nearby Muggle shops were adequate to their basic needs, and they could owl-order magical items. With their combined – though meagre – incomes, and given that neither of them were prone to excess, they lived quite comfortably. Snape dedicated himself to the comfort and pleasure of his partner, and Lupin, for the most part seemed content. If on the odd occasion Snape would find his lover regarding him with a slightly puzzled 'what am I doing here?' expression, a bout of fiery sex and a consequent, surreptitious renewing of the binding enchantment soon put paid to that…
~~~oOo~~~
"Happy anniversary."
"I love you." The werewolf whispered, his obvious devotion causing Snape's heart to swell with something more complicated than mere happiness.
"I love you, too…"
Severus closed his eyes and counted himself fortunate. Remus' love was counterfeit, but it was enough…
fumis Sun 29 Jan 2023 04:35AM UTC
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