Happy holidays, snegurochka_lee!
Title: Conjunction
Recipient: snegurochka_lee
Fandom: HP
Author: celandineb
Pairing: Lupin/Snape
Rating: adult
Warnings: very minor bloodplay
Summary: Remus and Severus have more to offer each other than either of them thinks.
Notes: An acrostic in fifteen drabbles. I had fun playing with the form, what can I say?
"Stay away from me." The gaunt figure in the bed scowled ferociously. "I don't need your help."
"Yes, you do." Remus summoned all his patience. "The Wizengamot confiscated both our wands until trial, since we were both deemed relatively harmless. Being confined in Spinner's End is better than Azkaban. At least I can heat up a tin of soup, though I'm not much of a cook."
He ignored the continued glares and spooned broth into Snape's mouth. It wasn't actually from a tin; Molly had brought it over, and Remus had had some earlier.
Snape grumbled, but ate with appetite.
Even though rationally he knew that he was too weak to manage it himself, Severus resented having to ask Lupin to help him down the hallway. At least the werewolf left him alone to urinate. When he had finished, however, Lupin insisted that he needed to bathe and began running a tub before Severus could demur.
Having his back washed was soothing. The involuntary reaction he experienced from Lupin's impersonal handling of his genitals would have been beyond humiliation - except that Lupin ignored it, perversely making Severus wish that Lupin would say something just so that he could be angry.
"Very little," Remus told Hermione. "I'm not sure if he quite grasps why he's to be tried."
"But he must remember killing Professor Dumbledore, and all the rest of it." Hermione handed Remus a flask. "Hasn't he spoken of his time with the Death Eaters at all? Harry will testify for him, and so will Professor McGonagall, but the more information I have the better a defense I can prepare."
"I'm sorry. He's still in bad shape, although he's getting stronger." Remus sipped at the Wolfsbane Potion and grimaced. "Thank you for this."
"I just hope I brewed it properly."
Each day Severus felt slightly stronger. As his body healed, his accustomed reluctance to avoid pain inevitably turned from the physical to the mental. Alone in the bedroom one grey afternoon, he counted up the deaths he had caused. What did it matter why, or that - in the end - the necessary purpose had been accomplished?
Self-absorbed, he failed to notice that Lupin brought his supper early and left him to eat alone. It was not until after nightfall that Severus began to wonder why Lupin was not there, sitting with him as usual. The full moon gave him his answer.
"Rough night?"
"Hmm?" Remus set down the tray of toast and tea and glanced over.
"I said, did you have a difficult night? Do listen, Lupin." The sarcastic tone sounded more like the Snape Remus knew.
"I've certainly had better," Remus admitted. "Though many have been far worse."
"You must have taken Wolfsbane Potion, then. Who made it?"
"Hermione." Remus smiled. "Hers tasted even worse than yours."
"Humph." Snape lifted a slice of toast with a hand that no longer shook. "Next month I'll brew it for you."
"If we're both still here."
"There is that." Snape's eyes shifted away.
Under his fingers, the pile of shredded aconite leaves grew rapidly. Severus ignored the lurking dizziness, concentrating on measuring out the proper amount and stirring it into the simmering potion.
"I know you can pause now." Lupin's voice cut into his reverie. "I can't brew Wolfsbane Potion effectively myself, but I'm quite familiar with it. You'll make yourself ill again if you don't rest." His eyes were dark and thoughtful.
"You just don't want to have to nurse me again." Severus knew as he spoke that the accusation was untrue, but the way Lupin had been watching him was disquieting.
Surely Snape was unaware of what he was doing? Remus rose to refill his glass. A second whiskey wouldn't hurt, as long as he stopped there; with the trial set for tomorrow he hardly wanted to be hung over.
He must be. The idea of Severus Snape watching Remus' every move was laughable. Snape would gouge out his own eyes first. And yet... whenever Remus walked around the room, that black gaze was fixed upon him.
"Nervous, Severus?"
Snape jumped and grimaced. "Aren't you?"
"A bit." Remus sighed. "There's not much to be done now."
"No. It's far too late."
"...and the Wizengamot has determined that for these reasons, the defendant shall be judged not guilty of the charges laid and shall be free to go. Your wand shall be returned to you forthwith, Severus Snape."
Free to go. Severus turned the words over in his mouth, disbelieving. A three-day trial, with character witnesses in his support that he hadn't even known about. Miss Granger had arranged it all, with the help of Remus Lupin, evidently. Who was smiling, a quiet pleased smile. He had been exonerated himself at the beginning of the week, far more quickly than Severus had.
"Not one possible job." Remus flung the Prophet on the floor.
Snape frowned. "You're certain?"
"Of course I'm certain," Remus snapped. "I've looked for a fortnight. I've Owled every place for which I'm remotely qualified, but as soon as they're aware of my condition - and I have to tell them, by Ministry regulations a registered werewolf may not conceal that fact in seeking employment - it's always, 'We regret the position is taken.'" A fierce dry sob welled up in his chest, but he repressed it. For this he had fought Voldemort?
"You could work with me." Snape's voice was quiet.
"Dragon liver, I asked for."
"Isn't that...?"
As Severus tilted the box for Lupin to see, the other man's expression grew angry. "Doxy dung," he swore.
"Actually, I believe it's goat liver," said Severus clinically. "But not what I ordered in any case."
"I'll take care of this. If they think they can get away with..." Lupin grabbed the box and stormed out, muttering to himself.
This might work out better than Severus had expected. With his expertise in potion development, and Lupin's willingness to take on the dirty jobs of ordering and marketing, they might make the business succeed.
"Remus?"
He started. "Tonks? What are you doing here?"
"I wanted to see how you were." Her hair was pink, to Remus' relief. Six months together had persuaded Tonks that, after all, he wasn't what she wanted, but she'd mourned the loss of her dream for some time before taking up with Kingsley, who was much more her type.
"Quite well, as you can see." Remus gestured around the tiny shop, its shelves crowded with bottles and packets. "Severus can hardly keep up with the demand."
"Severus? I see." Her grin was unabashed. "I'm glad to hear it."
Remus blushed.
"Everything tallies." Lupin sounded pleased. "We're officially ending our third month of business with a substantial profit. I say we should celebrate."
"How?" Severus asked warily.
"I don't care much for Christmas and somehow I don't imagine you do either."
Severus barked a short laugh. "Hardly."
"But solstice is next week," said Lupin. "A time of renewal. I think I would enjoy celebrating that with you."
"Had you something particular in mind?"
"You know the traditions as well as I. This hearth won't hold a true Yule log, but holly and mistletoe are obtainable."
"And the sacrifice?"
"Myself," said Lupin.
Mistletoe and holly twined around the bronze handle, leaving the blade bare. Naked, Remus knelt and waited.
"You're certain?" A hint of panic underlay the dark velvet of Severus' voice.
Remus nodded, tipping his head back. The sharp edge of the sickle touched his throat. Severus spoke the ritual words, then flung the bloody blade into the fire and bent to press his lips to the tiny cut, stanching the flow. Remus felt the magic gathering. He let himself relax into it; only passivity would allow him to survive this force unscathed.
"Take me. Now."
"Yes," was the growled reply.
Underneath him Remus writhed, caught up by the same need that flowed through Severus. From somewhere he had produced a tube of Muggle lubricant, and now his knees were over Severus' shoulders, his arse tight and hot, gripping Severus' prick as he thrust.
The scab on Remus' neck reminded Severus of what they were doing here: invoking the ancient magics of blood and sex and time, weaving them together into a fabric of sheer power. He hadn't wanted to tell Remus that he had never done this before. The pleasure of it gripped him and he spilled with a cry.
"So."
They looked at each other. Severus' expression was closed, Remus' ill at ease.
"Are you all right?"
A nod. "Are you?"
"Yes."
"I think the herbs were fully burned just when..."
"They were," Severus interrupted. "The spell worked perfectly."
"Do you feel any different?"
"Not really."
"Nor do I." Remus sat up, a little gingerly. "It had been a long time. For me, anyhow."
"Since you'd celebrated solstice?"
"Even longer for that."
"Ah." Severus closed his eyes. "Does this change anything?"
"Only if you want it to."
"I don't know, yet."
Remus touched his arm. "You don't have to."
Recipient: snegurochka_lee
Fandom: HP
Author: celandineb
Pairing: Lupin/Snape
Rating: adult
Warnings: very minor bloodplay
Summary: Remus and Severus have more to offer each other than either of them thinks.
Notes: An acrostic in fifteen drabbles. I had fun playing with the form, what can I say?
"Stay away from me." The gaunt figure in the bed scowled ferociously. "I don't need your help."
"Yes, you do." Remus summoned all his patience. "The Wizengamot confiscated both our wands until trial, since we were both deemed relatively harmless. Being confined in Spinner's End is better than Azkaban. At least I can heat up a tin of soup, though I'm not much of a cook."
He ignored the continued glares and spooned broth into Snape's mouth. It wasn't actually from a tin; Molly had brought it over, and Remus had had some earlier.
Snape grumbled, but ate with appetite.
Even though rationally he knew that he was too weak to manage it himself, Severus resented having to ask Lupin to help him down the hallway. At least the werewolf left him alone to urinate. When he had finished, however, Lupin insisted that he needed to bathe and began running a tub before Severus could demur.
Having his back washed was soothing. The involuntary reaction he experienced from Lupin's impersonal handling of his genitals would have been beyond humiliation - except that Lupin ignored it, perversely making Severus wish that Lupin would say something just so that he could be angry.
"Very little," Remus told Hermione. "I'm not sure if he quite grasps why he's to be tried."
"But he must remember killing Professor Dumbledore, and all the rest of it." Hermione handed Remus a flask. "Hasn't he spoken of his time with the Death Eaters at all? Harry will testify for him, and so will Professor McGonagall, but the more information I have the better a defense I can prepare."
"I'm sorry. He's still in bad shape, although he's getting stronger." Remus sipped at the Wolfsbane Potion and grimaced. "Thank you for this."
"I just hope I brewed it properly."
Each day Severus felt slightly stronger. As his body healed, his accustomed reluctance to avoid pain inevitably turned from the physical to the mental. Alone in the bedroom one grey afternoon, he counted up the deaths he had caused. What did it matter why, or that - in the end - the necessary purpose had been accomplished?
Self-absorbed, he failed to notice that Lupin brought his supper early and left him to eat alone. It was not until after nightfall that Severus began to wonder why Lupin was not there, sitting with him as usual. The full moon gave him his answer.
"Rough night?"
"Hmm?" Remus set down the tray of toast and tea and glanced over.
"I said, did you have a difficult night? Do listen, Lupin." The sarcastic tone sounded more like the Snape Remus knew.
"I've certainly had better," Remus admitted. "Though many have been far worse."
"You must have taken Wolfsbane Potion, then. Who made it?"
"Hermione." Remus smiled. "Hers tasted even worse than yours."
"Humph." Snape lifted a slice of toast with a hand that no longer shook. "Next month I'll brew it for you."
"If we're both still here."
"There is that." Snape's eyes shifted away.
Under his fingers, the pile of shredded aconite leaves grew rapidly. Severus ignored the lurking dizziness, concentrating on measuring out the proper amount and stirring it into the simmering potion.
"I know you can pause now." Lupin's voice cut into his reverie. "I can't brew Wolfsbane Potion effectively myself, but I'm quite familiar with it. You'll make yourself ill again if you don't rest." His eyes were dark and thoughtful.
"You just don't want to have to nurse me again." Severus knew as he spoke that the accusation was untrue, but the way Lupin had been watching him was disquieting.
Surely Snape was unaware of what he was doing? Remus rose to refill his glass. A second whiskey wouldn't hurt, as long as he stopped there; with the trial set for tomorrow he hardly wanted to be hung over.
He must be. The idea of Severus Snape watching Remus' every move was laughable. Snape would gouge out his own eyes first. And yet... whenever Remus walked around the room, that black gaze was fixed upon him.
"Nervous, Severus?"
Snape jumped and grimaced. "Aren't you?"
"A bit." Remus sighed. "There's not much to be done now."
"No. It's far too late."
"...and the Wizengamot has determined that for these reasons, the defendant shall be judged not guilty of the charges laid and shall be free to go. Your wand shall be returned to you forthwith, Severus Snape."
Free to go. Severus turned the words over in his mouth, disbelieving. A three-day trial, with character witnesses in his support that he hadn't even known about. Miss Granger had arranged it all, with the help of Remus Lupin, evidently. Who was smiling, a quiet pleased smile. He had been exonerated himself at the beginning of the week, far more quickly than Severus had.
"Not one possible job." Remus flung the Prophet on the floor.
Snape frowned. "You're certain?"
"Of course I'm certain," Remus snapped. "I've looked for a fortnight. I've Owled every place for which I'm remotely qualified, but as soon as they're aware of my condition - and I have to tell them, by Ministry regulations a registered werewolf may not conceal that fact in seeking employment - it's always, 'We regret the position is taken.'" A fierce dry sob welled up in his chest, but he repressed it. For this he had fought Voldemort?
"You could work with me." Snape's voice was quiet.
"Dragon liver, I asked for."
"Isn't that...?"
As Severus tilted the box for Lupin to see, the other man's expression grew angry. "Doxy dung," he swore.
"Actually, I believe it's goat liver," said Severus clinically. "But not what I ordered in any case."
"I'll take care of this. If they think they can get away with..." Lupin grabbed the box and stormed out, muttering to himself.
This might work out better than Severus had expected. With his expertise in potion development, and Lupin's willingness to take on the dirty jobs of ordering and marketing, they might make the business succeed.
"Remus?"
He started. "Tonks? What are you doing here?"
"I wanted to see how you were." Her hair was pink, to Remus' relief. Six months together had persuaded Tonks that, after all, he wasn't what she wanted, but she'd mourned the loss of her dream for some time before taking up with Kingsley, who was much more her type.
"Quite well, as you can see." Remus gestured around the tiny shop, its shelves crowded with bottles and packets. "Severus can hardly keep up with the demand."
"Severus? I see." Her grin was unabashed. "I'm glad to hear it."
Remus blushed.
"Everything tallies." Lupin sounded pleased. "We're officially ending our third month of business with a substantial profit. I say we should celebrate."
"How?" Severus asked warily.
"I don't care much for Christmas and somehow I don't imagine you do either."
Severus barked a short laugh. "Hardly."
"But solstice is next week," said Lupin. "A time of renewal. I think I would enjoy celebrating that with you."
"Had you something particular in mind?"
"You know the traditions as well as I. This hearth won't hold a true Yule log, but holly and mistletoe are obtainable."
"And the sacrifice?"
"Myself," said Lupin.
Mistletoe and holly twined around the bronze handle, leaving the blade bare. Naked, Remus knelt and waited.
"You're certain?" A hint of panic underlay the dark velvet of Severus' voice.
Remus nodded, tipping his head back. The sharp edge of the sickle touched his throat. Severus spoke the ritual words, then flung the bloody blade into the fire and bent to press his lips to the tiny cut, stanching the flow. Remus felt the magic gathering. He let himself relax into it; only passivity would allow him to survive this force unscathed.
"Take me. Now."
"Yes," was the growled reply.
Underneath him Remus writhed, caught up by the same need that flowed through Severus. From somewhere he had produced a tube of Muggle lubricant, and now his knees were over Severus' shoulders, his arse tight and hot, gripping Severus' prick as he thrust.
The scab on Remus' neck reminded Severus of what they were doing here: invoking the ancient magics of blood and sex and time, weaving them together into a fabric of sheer power. He hadn't wanted to tell Remus that he had never done this before. The pleasure of it gripped him and he spilled with a cry.
"So."
They looked at each other. Severus' expression was closed, Remus' ill at ease.
"Are you all right?"
A nod. "Are you?"
"Yes."
"I think the herbs were fully burned just when..."
"They were," Severus interrupted. "The spell worked perfectly."
"Do you feel any different?"
"Not really."
"Nor do I." Remus sat up, a little gingerly. "It had been a long time. For me, anyhow."
"Since you'd celebrated solstice?"
"Even longer for that."
"Ah." Severus closed his eyes. "Does this change anything?"
"Only if you want it to."
"I don't know, yet."
Remus touched his arm. "You don't have to."