FIC: Omnia Vincit Odium - part I, HP, SS/SB, NC-17
Okay, this is it. At long last. The next two parts will follow shortly. Hope somebody likes it.
Title: Omnia Vincit Odium - Part I
Author: Kleio
Paring: SS/SB (implied SB/RL)
Rating: NC-17
Warning: BDSM, violence, bloodplay
Disclaimer: No, none of them are mine, but don't you dare take them away from me!
Summary: Sirius Black is gone but not entirely without a trace. Grimmauld Place reveals more than one secret to Snape and Lupin - and even to Sirius himself. Set during and after OotP.
A/N: Yet another proverb gets it - somebody stop me;) This is a sequel to In Cruciatu Veritas, but I think it also stands alone (although, you may like to read the first story afterwards). And I am eternally grateful to fluffyllama for the absolutely wonderful beta! Any mistakes you may find are entirely my fault and should not be allowed to tarnish her good reputation:)
Part I
The creak of the door shook Sirius awake from his half-sleep and he hurried straight to the hole in the cloth. A pair of skinny legs, sticking out of black robes, had entered the room, but even though he could not see it, Sirius was sure the rest of Snape was also there. There was another creak as the door slid shut, followed by a soft clink as the key turned in the lock.
Sirius leant closer to the hole, once again reaching to tear it wider and, once again, letting his hands fall as he remembered that he could not. Though eternally grateful to Buckbeak and especially to that beak of his, Sirius still couldn't help but curse that he could only see such a small part of the room: the end of the bed and the man standing in front of it from the waist down.
Snape stood still for a long time, evidently staring down at the bed. Although Sirius found it hard to believe the dirty old bedspread held anything of interest, Snape seemed to be quite fascinated by it. Not that Sirius's opinion of him had ever been all that flattering, but as the minutes went by and the man continued to stand still, staring at the bedspread, he was more certain than ever that all was not right about Snape. Or perhaps there was something in the air of this room that made people lose their wits and stare at bedspreads. At least, He had been climbing the walls for months.
But once a Slytherin, always a bloody creep, that's what Sirius had always thought, and Snape had pretty much confirmed this over the years. Not for one minute had he believed it true, when he had heard the man had left the Death Eaters and returned to the side of Good. What a load of crap! Snivellus belonged to the Dark Side, no question about it, and as far as Sirius was concerned, he might bloody well have stayed there.
Sirius wanted to shout at him, tell him to just bugger off and leave him in peace, to go and stare at other bedspreads, but he managed to hold his tongue. For the time being, nobody in the house knew about him, and Snape would definitely not be the first to find him out. But when Remus came - as Sirius knew he eventually would - he would have a thing or a dozen to tell him about Snivellus. Oh, yes, the bastard would pay for everything he had done to Him. But for now, he would just have to wait for the spell of the bedspread to wear off and for the man to leave of his own accord.
The sound of parchment rustling caught Sirius's attention and he saw Snape pull something out of his robes. The poor thing looked like it had gone through rain and thunder: the handwriting was smudged in several places with large ink stains running across the lines, and the whole parchment was all crumpled and missing a corner. As hard as he tried, Sirius was too far away to read what it said, and he was surprised Snape could either, considering the way the parchment was shaking in his hands. One would have thought that it was of some importance to him, had it not been for the poor condition of the wretched thing.
Concentrating on trying to see even one word of the text, Sirius nearly jumped when he suddenly heard the weirdest sort of sound. It was somewhere between a snort and a yelp and, to his amazement, he realised it was coming from Snape. The manhandled parchment disappeared back into his robes, and instead Sirius caught a glimpse of Snape's wand before it, too, vanished from sight. Snape muttered something under his breath, which Sirius could not quite make out but was certain he had heard it being muttered before. He was still trying to figure the spell out, when he was interrupted by Snape's wand falling from his hand to the floor, followed by a gasp.
As far as Sirius could see, nothing worthy of gasping had happened. The four-poster bed stood right where it was supposed to, the bedspread on it as dirty as ever, and the bastard still stood where he was not supposed to. Yet Snape's breathing was getting heavier and heavier, until the man was practically panting despite not having moved a muscle.
Quickly the pair of legs turned a bit to the right, stopped there for a second, and then turned again. At each stop Sirius heard Snape make the same funny little sounds, which he couldn’t determine to be either happy or sad but which betrayed a very strong emotion, whatever it was. Turn and halt, turn and halt. Bit by bit, Snape was getting closer to the corner where Sirius was hiding, picking up speed as he went along. Then, at last, the tips of Snape's shoes were pointing directly at Sirius, who was now afraid to even breathe. For a few excruciating seconds Sirius stared at the black shoes, his mouth filling with saliva which he dared not swallow, and his heart making such a bloody row that anyone with even the slightest memory of having once been able to hear was bound to hear him, and then Snape turned again.
When reaching the point he had started from, Snape stopped and Sirius could hear him make another one of those funny noises. What the fuck was he doing, twirling round like that, scaring him half to death? That much admiration would have staggered even the owner of a much grander palace, and this was certainly not the nicest room imaginable. Even though the Spartan look might very well be right up Snape's alley, it did not seem plausible to think that the man had come all the way to Grimmauld Place only to admire the architecture.
The sound of the doorknob being turned made both Sirius and Snape jump. Hurriedly, Snape bent to pick up his wand, and for a second Sirius could see his face. Although he had never seen Snape with a healthy ruddiness, Sirius was taken aback by the nearly ghost-like paleness of his skin, and it made him wonder which of them was the one that had actually died around here.
The knob was jiggled again, this time with force, but the door remained shut. Then, right before the faint 'Alohomora' carried through the door and flung it open, Snape muttered yet another spell and with the speed of a Muggle magician hid the wand in his robes.
"You? What are you doing here?"
"Nothing that concerns you in the least, Lupin."
A second pair of legs, draped in rather shabby robes, came into Sirius's view and made him smile to himself. Old Moony would surely have a go at Snape for trespassing, and Sirius had a front row seat to watch it. With any luck, Remus would also find out what that parchment was all about and what the hell Snape had found so fascinating in the dreary room. That bastard had a lot to answer for, and this might bloody well be the beginning of something quite beautiful.
"It's rather late to be paying your respects," Remus said coldly. "Not that you ever had any for Sirius."
"You're quite right," Snape said casually, leaving no doubt as to which part of the comment he was agreeing with.
"You may savour Sirius's death all you like, but not in here, not in his room.” The door squeaked as it was pushed wider; evidently Remus was holding it open for Snape. “So, if you would be so kind as to leave."
"As was my intention."
The black robes swept across the floor to the door.
Wait-a-bloody-second! It was not going the way Sirius had imagined, not even close. Remus couldn't just drive Snape away without any explanations! The bastard was in Sirius's room, His room, for fuck's sake! He couldn't just barge in and stare at bedspreads and whatnot, and then leave quietly and without a word of explanation! No, that was just a load of, of...
"Bollocks!"
Sirius froze, clasping his hands over his mouth. Had it been him? Surely not.
"What was that?" asked Remus's voice.
Unless Snape had started speaking like a normal bloke, it must have been him.
"It came from the corner there," Snape said.
Sirius didn't dare open his eyes, and so he stood there, hands over his mouth and eyes closed, waiting for them to find him. He could hear the cloth being pulled aside, and then the light forced its way through his fingers. He had been caught.
"Sirius?"
Blinking his eyes and frowning, Sirius raised a hand to greet his old friend.
"Hello, Moony," he said. The world was beginning to take shape again and he found himself staring at a pair of very familiar eyes set in a strange face. "Good to see you, mate, though not exactly the way I had planned."
"Sirius!"
"And definitely not in this company," Sirius added, glaring at Snape, who had moved behind Remus. Surprisingly, the man showed no sign of surprise.
"A picture of himself in his own room," Snape said coldly. "How appropriate. A portrait of the idiot as a young man, is it?"
Sirius couldn't resist the temptation and sticked two fingers up at Snape.
"But when..." Remus started, dropping down onto his knees to take a closer look at him. "I mean, how on earth... Why didn't you..."
Sirius stopped him with a wave of his hand, as the poor man seemed unable to finish any of his questions.
"Oh, years ago. Can't you tell?" he said, starting with the first one.
"After the OWLs, isn't it?" Remus said, a trace of smile spreading over his face. Gently, he picked Sirius up from the floor and placed him on top of the dresser.
Sirius nodded shortly, and continued, "My dear mother had this made 'to remember me by'. Good thinking on her part, for once. Must have been the very next day that I left this house and moved into James's. Or He did and I stayed."
The memory of that day had never been one of Sirius's favourites. It was not easy to think that his life had gone on somewhere else without him, so once more he shook the thought from his mind and hurried on.
"I spent years up in my mother's wardrobe, until the old boy found me. Been here in His room ever since," he summed up.
Remus was obviously still a bit shocked and his lips kept moving, as if to fire more questions at him but unable to decide which ones to pick. This allowed Sirius time to study his friend more closely, and it did not take long to conclude that the years had not been good to old Moony. Sirius assumed that it was the unavoidable result of being a werewolf, but couldn't help but wonder whether something else was behind his weary condition as well. Perhaps if Sirius had been with him all these years, things might have been rather different. What ever had happened to them? Had it all been just a folly of one's youth on Moony's part, or had it been Sirius who'd been stupid enough to leave him?
"When was that?" Remus asked and brought Sirius back from his memories.
"Oh, months ago, but that's not important, mate," Sirius said quickly, turning his eyes to Snape. "He is."
"So nice of you to finally acknowledge that," Snape said and made his way over to the door. "Unfortunately, however, I haven't got the time to listen to you sing my praises."
"You bastard! You had no business coming here in the first place!" Sirius shouted over Remus's shoulder. "What the fuck were you doing here?"
"I hardly think I'm answerable to a blot of paint."
"But you are to me." Remus strode across the room to Snape, who already had his hand was on the doorknob, clearly anxious to leave. "Tell us, Snape, what was it that brought you here?"
"Just before you came in," Sirius cut in, addressing Remus, "I heard him cast some spell that made him twirl around the room."
"It was nothing that should concern you," Snape said curtly, turning the doorknob. "Do enjoy your little chat with the painting."
The door was already open when Remus stepped in front of Snape and pushed it firmly shut.
"I'm afraid I must insist, Severus," Remus said, emphasising his name in a way that made Sirius particularly proud of him.
"You go, Moony!" Sirius shouted from his corner. "Make that bastard say what he was up to!"
The two men stood face to face, glaring at each other without saying a word. Sirius couldn't help but think that there was something awfully familiar about this, about the two men standing by the closed door. And the harder he tried to remember, the more blurred Remus's face became, until he was certain it wasn't him Snape was arguing with any more.
Then, two hands reached for their wands and pulled them out simultaneously.
"I would advise against that, Lupin." Snape's voice was cold and oddly quiet.
"Well, luckily, I couldn't care less about your advice," Remus replied, his face growing clearer again in Sirius's eyes.
Remus raised his wand and opened his mouth, but before he could get a word out, Snape's 'Expelliarmus' had already knocked the wand from his hand. Sirius felt his heart sink and hated the frames around him more than ever.
Picking the wand up from the floor, Snape shook his head with apparent disappointment.
"You had to turn this into something nasty, didn't you?" he said, backing away from Remus. "Now, you must know I can't have you and the rest of that lot coming here and sticking your noses into things that do not concern you."
Remus held out his hand, looking fixedly at Snape.
"Hand it back to me. I don't know what the devil is going on around here, but this is surely not the way to resolve it."
"Oh, you will get your wand back," Snape said wryly. "Just as soon as I've erased this whole unfortunate incident from your mind."
Sirius, who had been standing on this toes through the whole scene, rigid with excitement, now suddenly sprang into life.
"Don't you dare touch him, you bastard!" he shouted, trying his best to jump off the canvas. "And even if you make Remus forget what happened, I'll still be here and I'll tell everybody! Then they will all know what a twisted bastard you are and what you did to Him!"
Even through his rage, Sirius knew he shouldn't have said that last thing. And, to confirm his fears, Snape spun on his heel and headed straight to him. His black robes fluttered around him and even in the bright light of the day, he appeared to darken the room with his mere presence.
"What is that supposed to mean?" he hissed, pressing the tip of his wand against the canvas.
"Oh, one hears things and one sees things, that aren't meant to be heard - and seen." Sirius's confidence was starting to crumble and he found himself taking a few steps back. "I know what you've done and if you don't want everybody else to know, too, then you'll bloody well give Remus his wand back!"
"Pray, tell me, what would a painting" - Snape spat out the word - "know about anything?"
Sirius was shaking equally with anger and fear. What wouldn’t he have given to be able to wrap his hands around Snape's neck and squeeze and squeeze until the last breath of life had left his body, to feel him turn limp and cold and dead! That bastard didn't deserve to live, not after what he had done, and Sirius intended make sure that he would not get away with it.
"I know you raped Him."
The wand was trembling in Snape's hand, scratching the canvas in a way that sent shivers down Sirius's back, and the man's knuckles were turning even whiter than the rest of his skin.
"You - know - nothing," he whispered in a low, breathless voice, pausing after every word.
"I saw you!" Sirius was practically screaming. "You had Him tied up right there" - Sirius pointed at the four-poster bed - "and you even gagged Him so that He couldn't call for help, and then you raped Him, you fucked Him again and again..."
"Silence!" Snape yelled but only made Sirius raise his voice even more.
"For months you kept coming here, fucking Him, up the arse, or in the mouth," Sirius shouted without taking the time to breathe. "And then there was that whip! A Flamgellum, was it? You conjured a bloody Flamgellum, and you whipped Him when He was sucking you, you sick, twisted, perverted..."
"Silence!" came Snape's voice again, but this time it was followed by a loud crack that made Sirius jump: the tip of Snape's wand had pierced through the canvas, right next to where Sirius was standing.
Terrified, Sirius hid behind the frame, and only after the wand had been pulled away did he dare to step forward again. He found Snape still standing in front of the dresser, with a curious smile on his face that made Sirius sick. It was the exact same smile he had seen on Snape's face right before the Flamgellum had appeared.
At first, Sirius hadn't understood what it was, as he had only seen pictures of it in books, but as soon as he had seen it hit His bare arse and smelt the burning flesh, he had remembered his History of Magic lessons. Flamgellum, or the whip of fire: Excruciating pain and yet no mark on the skin. Quite deadly in excessive amounts, as the pain will eventually make it impossible for the victim to breathe, leading to unconsciousness, from which there is rarely any hope of recovery. Highly illegal.
The images flashed through his mind in a matter of seconds.
He is lying on his stomach, His wrists tied to the posts at the foot of the bed. Snape is crouching in front of Him, forcing Him to kiss him, smiling that evil smile when He turns His head away. Snape straightens up, the red stripes on his white arse glowing in the candlelight. Snape's filthy cock is on His lips and he's telling Him to suck it, but He refuses to open His mouth, shakes His head and spits at Snape's feet. His refusal clearly irritating him, Snape grabs Him by the hair and presses His face to his cock, rubbing it against His cheeks. Again he tells Him to open His mouth, and again He refuses. Then the whip of fire flashes through the dark room, burning at the end of Snape's wand, brighter than the candles, and hits Him on the arse. The first lash He can stand, breathing heavily through His clenched teeth, but the second one proves too much. As He opens His mouth to scream from the pain, Snape thrusts his cock into it and muffles His cries. Grabbing Him harder by the hair, he orders him to suck, and even though He does so, the bastard raises his wand again and the fiery whip burns a long, red wound down His back and over His arse. His nostrils are wide open, it's obvious that He can't breathe, not after the Flamgellum and not with the cock in His mouth, but that won't stop Snape from telling Him to suck it, lashing Him again and again, until he comes in His mouth, and His head is left hanging over the edge of the bed, with Snape's sperm dripping from His mouth.
With a blink of an eye, the memory of that horrible night was gone, and Sirius found himself staring at the devil himself.
"As I understand, no one knows about you, and soon not even the werewolf will remember anything of the sort," Snape said, leaning closer to him. "Tell me, who do you think would miss a portrait which no one has any reason to suspect even exists?"
"Fuck off, Snape!" Helplessly, Sirius looked into the dark eyes, unable to do anything more than shout empty threats from a torn painting. "You'll not get away with this, I swear I'll..."
"You will what? Fall on my foot? Stain me with paint? Or, perhaps..."
Snape never finished the sentence. Sirius had seen Remus coming, creeping behind Snape, raising the candlestick, and then, hitting him with it in the back of the head. With a thump, Snape fell to the floor and lay there, motionless.
Eagerly Sirius leant forward to have a look at him.
"Is he dead?"
"No," Remus replied, pressing his hand on Snape's neck. "Just unconscious."
"Pity." Had it been Sirius at the other end of the candlestick, the bastard would have been done for.
Slowly, Remus straightened up and sat down on the bed. He was clearly avoiding looking at him, but Sirius could just as easily read the way he was fidgeting with the two wands in his hands.
"It's true, mate," Sirius said quietly. "I saw it."
"But how...?" Remus started but just shook his head in disbelief. "Why the hell didn't he tell me? Why didn't he ask for help? How could something like this happen? And for months, did you say?"
"Yep. It started sometime in March, I think. I'm not much of a help with dates," Sirius said apologetically. "And I wondered about that, too, about why He didn't say something. But that" - Sirius pointed at Snape, lying on the floor - "seemed to have some kind of hold over Him. I mean, He let Snape come here, allowed him to do all those disgusting things to Him... Look, I'm sorry you had to hear this, mate."
"So am I." Only now did Remus look at him and Sirius could see the wet lines on his cheeks. "I just can't believe he didn't tell me. There were no secrets between us, not any more..."
"Maybe He was under the Imperius Curse?" Sirius asked. "That might explain it."
"And why would I have tied and gagged him, if he was already under my command?" came a muffled voice from the floor.
With an effort, Snape pushed himself up and turned to Remus, who had already sprung to his feet and was pointing his wand at him.
"That was rather brutal," Snape said, rubbing his head, "but what more could one expect from an animal."
"From what I hear, I'm not the only animal here."
"Yes, there is, of course, that mutt," Snape said and glared at Sirius. "I shouldn't be surprised that you have such faith in him, but, as for me, I am not in the habit of conversing with anything oil-based."
"I told the truth and you know it!" Sirius exclaimed. "I bet there are still blood stains on that bedspread from the time you had your little fun with the wine bottle!"
Sirius watched Remus's eyes widen with horror and almost wished he could take back what he had said. While Remus bent over to have a look at the bedspread, clearly hoping to find nothing, Snape eased his way to the foot of the bed and let his fingers run slowly down the wooden post. Evidently it brought back some memories, and no matter how hard Sirius tried, he could not shake the images off, either.
This time, He is standing, His bare buttocks rubbing against the post as Snape presses closer to Him. Snape's hands are on His arse, those long white fingers digging deep into His flesh, but He has no hands to protect Himself with. Snape reaches for the dresser, picks something up and lifts it to His face. 'Open.' Then the hand slides down again and the neck of the green bottle glistens in the candlelight. Grabbing Him by the hips, he flips Him over, pushes His legs wider apart and presses the wine bottle against His arse. The first push doesn't go in and only makes Him scream from the pain. Snape's other hand moves quickly up and out of sight. The second one goes deeper, nearly the whole neck of the bottle is inside Him, but now there's only a muffled moan. Snape moves the bottle faster and faster, banging it against Him with force, ignoring His groans, thrusting it inside Him harder and harder, until it slips from his hand and shatters onto the floor.
The waiting silence seems to last a lifetime. Finally Snape bents down to pick up a large shard of green glass and studies it, a sneer curling his lip. In an instant, He is flipped over again, His back against the post. 'A slight change of plan.' Slowly, Snape runs the shard down His body, making small cuts into His chest and then licking away the drops of blood. He's breathing heavily, His muscles are tensed, but He makes no sound. The lower Snape gets, the deeper the cuts become, and soon his licking isn't enough to stop the bleeding, and His white skin is streaked with dark red. Still, Snape continues downwards, until he's on his knees, with His cock in one hand and the shard of glass in the other. The panting changes first into moans, then into the repeated 'Please, no.' For a while Snape just stays there, pressing the piece of glass against His cock and looking up with an evil grin on his face. Blood starts to drip onto his fingers, but his grip on the shard only tightens. 'Please.' The glass drops to the floor and the cock disappears in Snape's mouth. The cry of pain is short but loud. He digs his fingers into His buttocks to keep Him still, and cheeks dented, he sucks on the bloody cock.
Wiping his mouth, Snape picks up the piece of glass and stands up. Quickly His limp body is turned around and Snape presses his cock against His arse, the shard disappearing from sight. 'Do give me reason to slit your throat open.' There's no reply. Snape pushes His legs apart and forces himself inside Him. There are only a few long, hard thrusts, going deep into Him and making Him let out a low groan. Then the hand falls down and the shard of glass drops from it, covered in blood.
Gently, Remus ran his fingers over the small stains of blood on the bedspread, stroking the cotton almost soothingly. Sirius could see he was hurting and it burned his insides to think that he had still cared for Him, after all those years.
"You cannot seriously believe anything that discoloured canvas has to say," Snape said scornfully. "It is merely a decoration, and its worth even as such is debatable."
"Oi! I'm right here!"
"I am quite well aware of that, you blithering idiot." Snape gave him a nasty look. Turning back to Remus, he continued in the same, cold and uncaring voice, "The blood is probably from some carcass Black fed that Hippogriff with. Or, who knows, perhaps he had developed a taste for raw meat himself."
In an instant, Remus woke up from his daze, abandoned the bedspread and strode to Snape.
"I expect you have no idea what it's like to care for someone, do you, Snape?" Remus asked, the wand trembling in his hand. "And so, you can't possibly know what it feels like to have somebody hurt the one you love!"
"I believe I just felt what it's like," Snape replied, brushing the back of his head with his hand, "to have somebody hurt the one I love."
That seemed to be the last straw. Remus charged Snape like a beast, grabbed him by the front of his robes and hurled him against the wall. As Snape made no effort to fight back, Remus was able to bang him against the wall several times before stopping to get his breath back.
"You bastard! You utter bastard!" Remus roared, stepping back as if retreating, but Sirius soon discovered that that was merely to get a run at it. With a force that only an inexperienced puncher would use, Remus's fist landed squarely on Snape's mouth, sending him face down on the floor, his blood spilling across the bare wall.
"Bloody hell, mate!" Sirius exclaimed.
"How could you...?" Remus's voice sank to a whisper, tears glistening on his cheeks. "How could you do that...? I never thought you'd be capable of... of such monstrosity. I loved him..." He stared in disbelief at Snape, who had just managed to get back to his feet, blood dribbing from his mouth. "Do you understand that, you monster?!"
This time, however, Snape proved quicker, and before Remus could even raise his fist, Snape's hand slapped hard on his cheek, causing him to lose his balance and fall backwards.
"How dare you talk to me about love!" Snape snarled, wiping the blood off his face on his sleeve.
"You don't even know what love is," muttered Remus, pushing himself up. He still had both their wands, and his own was pointing directly at Snape.
"No, I do not," said Snape, his previously cold voice beginning to shake along with the rest of his body. "But I assure you that there are forces far stronger than mere love."
Shamelessly, he stepped closer to Remus, whose wand was now nearly touching the front of Snape's robes. Sirius couldn't understand, why Remus agreed to listen to this; why he wouldn't just Stun him, punch him, do anything to make him shut it! Instead, Remus just kept staring at Snape, as if trying to find a reason for it all written in his eyes.
"Do it, Moony!" Sirius shouted desperately. "Cast a spell, any spell!"
But he was taken no notice of.
"I hated Black," Snape spat into Remus's face. "And that is something you will never grasp until you've hated someone as much as I have."
"I believe I have a pretty good idea."
"You fool!" Snape shouted and startled Sirius.
Suddenly he had the distinct feeling of watching a bottle of Butterbeer that had been tossed around and shaken long enough, and now the cork, which had held so tightly through all that turmoil, was finally starting to bent from the pressure, and soon they would all be drown in foam.
"I, too, thought that I hated him," - Snape pointed at Sirius - "but that was merely a childish dislike, nothing to do with pure hatred. It is only now that I've come to experience what it is actually like to hate someone so much that you cannot even breathe without that hatred. I hated Black! I detested, loathed, abhorred that sorry bastard! You know nothing! Nothing!"
Snape was breathing heavily, his eyes glowing with what Sirius could only describe as madness. But the expression on Remus's face was equally furious as he took a few steps back from Snape to give himself more room and raised his wand. Sirius was certain that he was about to kill the bastard, and a big part of him supported the idea.
His wand already in midair, Remus stopped abruptly and bent down, and as he straightened up again, there was something in his hand. It did not took Sirius long to recognise the ball of parchment.
"That's what Snape was reading right before he cast that spell!" Sirius exclaimed, in his mind railing at himself for forgetting all about it. "I bet it's in there!"
Glancing through the parchment, Remus backed further away from Snape, his wand still pointing straight at him. Watching the parchment in his hand, Sirius wondered whether it had been hexed to burn the fingers of whoever was holding it..
"I shall take that, if you please," Snape said quickly and his voice shivered almost as much as the hand he was reaching out. "It is of no importance to you."
"What is it, mate?" Sirius whispered, getting anxious.
"It's a letter," Remus said, lifting his gaze from the parchment and turning to look straight at him. "In your handwriting."
Sirius felt a lump in his throat, growing bigger and bigger. He tried to swallow it down, but it was already too large for that. Not even air seemed to able to pass the lump any more, and he was certain he would faint.
"It belongs to me," came Snape's voice from somewhere far away. "Hand it over, Lupin."
"There's no name," Remus continued in an equally distant voice, "but I'm sure it's Sirius's handwriting. Why would you have a letter from him?"
Blinking his eyes vigorously, Sirius tried to make the world clearer again, but the chaos inside his head refused give way. It couldn't be. A letter from Him. It was impossible.
"Give it to me!" Snape shouted, trying to tear the parchment from Remus's hands. "Now!"
Remus's wand swished through the air as his voice echoed from the empty walls.
"Impedimenta!"
Hands still reached out, Snape froze in the middle of the room.
"Read it to me, mate," Sirius encouraged Remus and cast an angry look at Snape, who struggled feverishly under the jinx but only ended up lying face down on the floor.
"Dear Severus, [Remus's voice trembled nearly as much as his hands.]
It was utterly delightful to receive that charming letter of yours, my dear fellow. As for your inquiry, I can only tell you what my window reveals to me, and that isn't much, I'm afraid.
["This isn’t Sirius," Remus said, shaking his head. "It can't be, and yet I'm certain this is his handwriting."]
As far as I can tell, however, the weather appears to be warming up, and there's practically no snow left in our little garden, except for a few picturesque patches in the corners.
["Maybe it's a code," Sirius suggested, but Remus just carried on.]
Yesterday we had a bit of a drizzle, but at the moment the sun is shining and the wind seems to be in the east. Then again, I can't be certain, can I? Forced to spend my days inside this house, I honestly don't give a toss where east is, you complete and utter bastard.
["That sounds more like the old boy," Sirius said and saw a trace of smile flicker on Remus's face.]
I hate you for what you've done to me.
[Sirius watched the smile disappear.]
That was it then, eh? And there'll be no more of it, right? I wonder how am I ever going to manage without you slapping me around, not to mention chaining me and shagging me up the arse? And in answer to the question you're bound to be thinking of, no, I really don't care a fuck about who might be reading this. If that old hag gets off on reading about places you've shoved your wand into, then let her, say I.
[Remus's voice trailed off and it took him a while to gather himself.]
But not to worry. It's quite all right that I won't have to taste your disgusting fluids ever again. You see, I've already found another and almost equally painful way to pass the time. They have this show on the wireless called Who's Who in the Muggle World, where they introduce some of the most interesting Muggles of all times.
["Now, that is an oxymoron, if I ever saw one," Snape muttered from the floor and soon found himself tied with a rope that spurted out of Remus's wand.]
They were talking about a French bloke by the name of Desad (or something of the sort), and, noticing certain similarities between us, I decided to do to my prison cell what he did to his.
Anyway, I do hope you find a tighter arse for that sorry little prick of yours.
And I'll be sure to keep you posted on the weather conditions at this end."
The room stayed quiet for a good while, before Remus raised his gaze from the letter and turned to the tied man, who had managed to crawl to the corner and was now trying his hardest to prop himself against the wall.
"What is the meaning of this?" Remus asked, brandishing the parchment in front of Snape's face. "What the devil is the meaning of this?!"
However, the man beneath the black hair remained silent.
"It doesn't sound like he was under the Imperius when writing this," Remus muttered under his breath. "Yet it doesn't sound like he was entirely in his senses, either."
"But it did say that Snape raped him!" Sirius said heatedly. Remus was obviously missing the most crucial point and he could not allow that to be forgotten. "That's all the proof you need!"
Again, Remus paid no attention to him and instead pored over the letter, clearly trying to think.
"He did to his cell the same as this Desad did to his..." he muttered. "Yes, I remember that programme... I caught some of it... Desad... prison... de Sade?"
All of a sudden Remus's face brightened, and he let the letter drop from his hand. Baffled, Sirius shot a sideways look at Snape, but whatever it was that had dawned upon Remus, it seemed to have made no effect on him whatsoever, and the man just sat there, his black eyes staring blindly ahead.
Remus, on the other hand, had already raised his wand but still hesitated, apparently not knowing where to point it. Then, after couple of quick turns, which reminded Sirius of Snape's swirling around earlier, he stopped, and with his hand high up in the air, Remus uttered the incantation.
"Aparecium!"
Gasping, Sirius watched as the bare walls around him came into life. The red writing, right under the ceiling, went all round the room, one block of text next to the other. They were all of different sizes, some reaching nearly halfway down the wall, while others were only short strips, containing no more than a few words. And although Sirius could not make out any of the words, all but the first one appeared to be dated.
For months He had been climbing up the walls, always covering the portrait in beforehand, and never telling Sirius afterwards, what He had been doing up there. He had even told the bastard Snape about it, but not him! Bloody hell, who could you trust any more if not yourself?
"Go on, mate," he said, though not quite sure whether it was really what he wanted. "Read it out loud."
- End of Part I -
continue to Part II
Title: Omnia Vincit Odium - Part I
Author: Kleio
Paring: SS/SB (implied SB/RL)
Rating: NC-17
Warning: BDSM, violence, bloodplay
Disclaimer: No, none of them are mine, but don't you dare take them away from me!
Summary: Sirius Black is gone but not entirely without a trace. Grimmauld Place reveals more than one secret to Snape and Lupin - and even to Sirius himself. Set during and after OotP.
A/N: Yet another proverb gets it - somebody stop me;) This is a sequel to In Cruciatu Veritas, but I think it also stands alone (although, you may like to read the first story afterwards). And I am eternally grateful to fluffyllama for the absolutely wonderful beta! Any mistakes you may find are entirely my fault and should not be allowed to tarnish her good reputation:)
Part I
The creak of the door shook Sirius awake from his half-sleep and he hurried straight to the hole in the cloth. A pair of skinny legs, sticking out of black robes, had entered the room, but even though he could not see it, Sirius was sure the rest of Snape was also there. There was another creak as the door slid shut, followed by a soft clink as the key turned in the lock.
Sirius leant closer to the hole, once again reaching to tear it wider and, once again, letting his hands fall as he remembered that he could not. Though eternally grateful to Buckbeak and especially to that beak of his, Sirius still couldn't help but curse that he could only see such a small part of the room: the end of the bed and the man standing in front of it from the waist down.
Snape stood still for a long time, evidently staring down at the bed. Although Sirius found it hard to believe the dirty old bedspread held anything of interest, Snape seemed to be quite fascinated by it. Not that Sirius's opinion of him had ever been all that flattering, but as the minutes went by and the man continued to stand still, staring at the bedspread, he was more certain than ever that all was not right about Snape. Or perhaps there was something in the air of this room that made people lose their wits and stare at bedspreads. At least, He had been climbing the walls for months.
But once a Slytherin, always a bloody creep, that's what Sirius had always thought, and Snape had pretty much confirmed this over the years. Not for one minute had he believed it true, when he had heard the man had left the Death Eaters and returned to the side of Good. What a load of crap! Snivellus belonged to the Dark Side, no question about it, and as far as Sirius was concerned, he might bloody well have stayed there.
Sirius wanted to shout at him, tell him to just bugger off and leave him in peace, to go and stare at other bedspreads, but he managed to hold his tongue. For the time being, nobody in the house knew about him, and Snape would definitely not be the first to find him out. But when Remus came - as Sirius knew he eventually would - he would have a thing or a dozen to tell him about Snivellus. Oh, yes, the bastard would pay for everything he had done to Him. But for now, he would just have to wait for the spell of the bedspread to wear off and for the man to leave of his own accord.
The sound of parchment rustling caught Sirius's attention and he saw Snape pull something out of his robes. The poor thing looked like it had gone through rain and thunder: the handwriting was smudged in several places with large ink stains running across the lines, and the whole parchment was all crumpled and missing a corner. As hard as he tried, Sirius was too far away to read what it said, and he was surprised Snape could either, considering the way the parchment was shaking in his hands. One would have thought that it was of some importance to him, had it not been for the poor condition of the wretched thing.
Concentrating on trying to see even one word of the text, Sirius nearly jumped when he suddenly heard the weirdest sort of sound. It was somewhere between a snort and a yelp and, to his amazement, he realised it was coming from Snape. The manhandled parchment disappeared back into his robes, and instead Sirius caught a glimpse of Snape's wand before it, too, vanished from sight. Snape muttered something under his breath, which Sirius could not quite make out but was certain he had heard it being muttered before. He was still trying to figure the spell out, when he was interrupted by Snape's wand falling from his hand to the floor, followed by a gasp.
As far as Sirius could see, nothing worthy of gasping had happened. The four-poster bed stood right where it was supposed to, the bedspread on it as dirty as ever, and the bastard still stood where he was not supposed to. Yet Snape's breathing was getting heavier and heavier, until the man was practically panting despite not having moved a muscle.
Quickly the pair of legs turned a bit to the right, stopped there for a second, and then turned again. At each stop Sirius heard Snape make the same funny little sounds, which he couldn’t determine to be either happy or sad but which betrayed a very strong emotion, whatever it was. Turn and halt, turn and halt. Bit by bit, Snape was getting closer to the corner where Sirius was hiding, picking up speed as he went along. Then, at last, the tips of Snape's shoes were pointing directly at Sirius, who was now afraid to even breathe. For a few excruciating seconds Sirius stared at the black shoes, his mouth filling with saliva which he dared not swallow, and his heart making such a bloody row that anyone with even the slightest memory of having once been able to hear was bound to hear him, and then Snape turned again.
When reaching the point he had started from, Snape stopped and Sirius could hear him make another one of those funny noises. What the fuck was he doing, twirling round like that, scaring him half to death? That much admiration would have staggered even the owner of a much grander palace, and this was certainly not the nicest room imaginable. Even though the Spartan look might very well be right up Snape's alley, it did not seem plausible to think that the man had come all the way to Grimmauld Place only to admire the architecture.
The sound of the doorknob being turned made both Sirius and Snape jump. Hurriedly, Snape bent to pick up his wand, and for a second Sirius could see his face. Although he had never seen Snape with a healthy ruddiness, Sirius was taken aback by the nearly ghost-like paleness of his skin, and it made him wonder which of them was the one that had actually died around here.
The knob was jiggled again, this time with force, but the door remained shut. Then, right before the faint 'Alohomora' carried through the door and flung it open, Snape muttered yet another spell and with the speed of a Muggle magician hid the wand in his robes.
"You? What are you doing here?"
"Nothing that concerns you in the least, Lupin."
A second pair of legs, draped in rather shabby robes, came into Sirius's view and made him smile to himself. Old Moony would surely have a go at Snape for trespassing, and Sirius had a front row seat to watch it. With any luck, Remus would also find out what that parchment was all about and what the hell Snape had found so fascinating in the dreary room. That bastard had a lot to answer for, and this might bloody well be the beginning of something quite beautiful.
"It's rather late to be paying your respects," Remus said coldly. "Not that you ever had any for Sirius."
"You're quite right," Snape said casually, leaving no doubt as to which part of the comment he was agreeing with.
"You may savour Sirius's death all you like, but not in here, not in his room.” The door squeaked as it was pushed wider; evidently Remus was holding it open for Snape. “So, if you would be so kind as to leave."
"As was my intention."
The black robes swept across the floor to the door.
Wait-a-bloody-second! It was not going the way Sirius had imagined, not even close. Remus couldn't just drive Snape away without any explanations! The bastard was in Sirius's room, His room, for fuck's sake! He couldn't just barge in and stare at bedspreads and whatnot, and then leave quietly and without a word of explanation! No, that was just a load of, of...
"Bollocks!"
Sirius froze, clasping his hands over his mouth. Had it been him? Surely not.
"What was that?" asked Remus's voice.
Unless Snape had started speaking like a normal bloke, it must have been him.
"It came from the corner there," Snape said.
Sirius didn't dare open his eyes, and so he stood there, hands over his mouth and eyes closed, waiting for them to find him. He could hear the cloth being pulled aside, and then the light forced its way through his fingers. He had been caught.
"Sirius?"
Blinking his eyes and frowning, Sirius raised a hand to greet his old friend.
"Hello, Moony," he said. The world was beginning to take shape again and he found himself staring at a pair of very familiar eyes set in a strange face. "Good to see you, mate, though not exactly the way I had planned."
"Sirius!"
"And definitely not in this company," Sirius added, glaring at Snape, who had moved behind Remus. Surprisingly, the man showed no sign of surprise.
"A picture of himself in his own room," Snape said coldly. "How appropriate. A portrait of the idiot as a young man, is it?"
Sirius couldn't resist the temptation and sticked two fingers up at Snape.
"But when..." Remus started, dropping down onto his knees to take a closer look at him. "I mean, how on earth... Why didn't you..."
Sirius stopped him with a wave of his hand, as the poor man seemed unable to finish any of his questions.
"Oh, years ago. Can't you tell?" he said, starting with the first one.
"After the OWLs, isn't it?" Remus said, a trace of smile spreading over his face. Gently, he picked Sirius up from the floor and placed him on top of the dresser.
Sirius nodded shortly, and continued, "My dear mother had this made 'to remember me by'. Good thinking on her part, for once. Must have been the very next day that I left this house and moved into James's. Or He did and I stayed."
The memory of that day had never been one of Sirius's favourites. It was not easy to think that his life had gone on somewhere else without him, so once more he shook the thought from his mind and hurried on.
"I spent years up in my mother's wardrobe, until the old boy found me. Been here in His room ever since," he summed up.
Remus was obviously still a bit shocked and his lips kept moving, as if to fire more questions at him but unable to decide which ones to pick. This allowed Sirius time to study his friend more closely, and it did not take long to conclude that the years had not been good to old Moony. Sirius assumed that it was the unavoidable result of being a werewolf, but couldn't help but wonder whether something else was behind his weary condition as well. Perhaps if Sirius had been with him all these years, things might have been rather different. What ever had happened to them? Had it all been just a folly of one's youth on Moony's part, or had it been Sirius who'd been stupid enough to leave him?
"When was that?" Remus asked and brought Sirius back from his memories.
"Oh, months ago, but that's not important, mate," Sirius said quickly, turning his eyes to Snape. "He is."
"So nice of you to finally acknowledge that," Snape said and made his way over to the door. "Unfortunately, however, I haven't got the time to listen to you sing my praises."
"You bastard! You had no business coming here in the first place!" Sirius shouted over Remus's shoulder. "What the fuck were you doing here?"
"I hardly think I'm answerable to a blot of paint."
"But you are to me." Remus strode across the room to Snape, who already had his hand was on the doorknob, clearly anxious to leave. "Tell us, Snape, what was it that brought you here?"
"Just before you came in," Sirius cut in, addressing Remus, "I heard him cast some spell that made him twirl around the room."
"It was nothing that should concern you," Snape said curtly, turning the doorknob. "Do enjoy your little chat with the painting."
The door was already open when Remus stepped in front of Snape and pushed it firmly shut.
"I'm afraid I must insist, Severus," Remus said, emphasising his name in a way that made Sirius particularly proud of him.
"You go, Moony!" Sirius shouted from his corner. "Make that bastard say what he was up to!"
The two men stood face to face, glaring at each other without saying a word. Sirius couldn't help but think that there was something awfully familiar about this, about the two men standing by the closed door. And the harder he tried to remember, the more blurred Remus's face became, until he was certain it wasn't him Snape was arguing with any more.
Then, two hands reached for their wands and pulled them out simultaneously.
"I would advise against that, Lupin." Snape's voice was cold and oddly quiet.
"Well, luckily, I couldn't care less about your advice," Remus replied, his face growing clearer again in Sirius's eyes.
Remus raised his wand and opened his mouth, but before he could get a word out, Snape's 'Expelliarmus' had already knocked the wand from his hand. Sirius felt his heart sink and hated the frames around him more than ever.
Picking the wand up from the floor, Snape shook his head with apparent disappointment.
"You had to turn this into something nasty, didn't you?" he said, backing away from Remus. "Now, you must know I can't have you and the rest of that lot coming here and sticking your noses into things that do not concern you."
Remus held out his hand, looking fixedly at Snape.
"Hand it back to me. I don't know what the devil is going on around here, but this is surely not the way to resolve it."
"Oh, you will get your wand back," Snape said wryly. "Just as soon as I've erased this whole unfortunate incident from your mind."
Sirius, who had been standing on this toes through the whole scene, rigid with excitement, now suddenly sprang into life.
"Don't you dare touch him, you bastard!" he shouted, trying his best to jump off the canvas. "And even if you make Remus forget what happened, I'll still be here and I'll tell everybody! Then they will all know what a twisted bastard you are and what you did to Him!"
Even through his rage, Sirius knew he shouldn't have said that last thing. And, to confirm his fears, Snape spun on his heel and headed straight to him. His black robes fluttered around him and even in the bright light of the day, he appeared to darken the room with his mere presence.
"What is that supposed to mean?" he hissed, pressing the tip of his wand against the canvas.
"Oh, one hears things and one sees things, that aren't meant to be heard - and seen." Sirius's confidence was starting to crumble and he found himself taking a few steps back. "I know what you've done and if you don't want everybody else to know, too, then you'll bloody well give Remus his wand back!"
"Pray, tell me, what would a painting" - Snape spat out the word - "know about anything?"
Sirius was shaking equally with anger and fear. What wouldn’t he have given to be able to wrap his hands around Snape's neck and squeeze and squeeze until the last breath of life had left his body, to feel him turn limp and cold and dead! That bastard didn't deserve to live, not after what he had done, and Sirius intended make sure that he would not get away with it.
"I know you raped Him."
The wand was trembling in Snape's hand, scratching the canvas in a way that sent shivers down Sirius's back, and the man's knuckles were turning even whiter than the rest of his skin.
"You - know - nothing," he whispered in a low, breathless voice, pausing after every word.
"I saw you!" Sirius was practically screaming. "You had Him tied up right there" - Sirius pointed at the four-poster bed - "and you even gagged Him so that He couldn't call for help, and then you raped Him, you fucked Him again and again..."
"Silence!" Snape yelled but only made Sirius raise his voice even more.
"For months you kept coming here, fucking Him, up the arse, or in the mouth," Sirius shouted without taking the time to breathe. "And then there was that whip! A Flamgellum, was it? You conjured a bloody Flamgellum, and you whipped Him when He was sucking you, you sick, twisted, perverted..."
"Silence!" came Snape's voice again, but this time it was followed by a loud crack that made Sirius jump: the tip of Snape's wand had pierced through the canvas, right next to where Sirius was standing.
Terrified, Sirius hid behind the frame, and only after the wand had been pulled away did he dare to step forward again. He found Snape still standing in front of the dresser, with a curious smile on his face that made Sirius sick. It was the exact same smile he had seen on Snape's face right before the Flamgellum had appeared.
At first, Sirius hadn't understood what it was, as he had only seen pictures of it in books, but as soon as he had seen it hit His bare arse and smelt the burning flesh, he had remembered his History of Magic lessons. Flamgellum, or the whip of fire: Excruciating pain and yet no mark on the skin. Quite deadly in excessive amounts, as the pain will eventually make it impossible for the victim to breathe, leading to unconsciousness, from which there is rarely any hope of recovery. Highly illegal.
The images flashed through his mind in a matter of seconds.
He is lying on his stomach, His wrists tied to the posts at the foot of the bed. Snape is crouching in front of Him, forcing Him to kiss him, smiling that evil smile when He turns His head away. Snape straightens up, the red stripes on his white arse glowing in the candlelight. Snape's filthy cock is on His lips and he's telling Him to suck it, but He refuses to open His mouth, shakes His head and spits at Snape's feet. His refusal clearly irritating him, Snape grabs Him by the hair and presses His face to his cock, rubbing it against His cheeks. Again he tells Him to open His mouth, and again He refuses. Then the whip of fire flashes through the dark room, burning at the end of Snape's wand, brighter than the candles, and hits Him on the arse. The first lash He can stand, breathing heavily through His clenched teeth, but the second one proves too much. As He opens His mouth to scream from the pain, Snape thrusts his cock into it and muffles His cries. Grabbing Him harder by the hair, he orders him to suck, and even though He does so, the bastard raises his wand again and the fiery whip burns a long, red wound down His back and over His arse. His nostrils are wide open, it's obvious that He can't breathe, not after the Flamgellum and not with the cock in His mouth, but that won't stop Snape from telling Him to suck it, lashing Him again and again, until he comes in His mouth, and His head is left hanging over the edge of the bed, with Snape's sperm dripping from His mouth.
With a blink of an eye, the memory of that horrible night was gone, and Sirius found himself staring at the devil himself.
"As I understand, no one knows about you, and soon not even the werewolf will remember anything of the sort," Snape said, leaning closer to him. "Tell me, who do you think would miss a portrait which no one has any reason to suspect even exists?"
"Fuck off, Snape!" Helplessly, Sirius looked into the dark eyes, unable to do anything more than shout empty threats from a torn painting. "You'll not get away with this, I swear I'll..."
"You will what? Fall on my foot? Stain me with paint? Or, perhaps..."
Snape never finished the sentence. Sirius had seen Remus coming, creeping behind Snape, raising the candlestick, and then, hitting him with it in the back of the head. With a thump, Snape fell to the floor and lay there, motionless.
Eagerly Sirius leant forward to have a look at him.
"Is he dead?"
"No," Remus replied, pressing his hand on Snape's neck. "Just unconscious."
"Pity." Had it been Sirius at the other end of the candlestick, the bastard would have been done for.
Slowly, Remus straightened up and sat down on the bed. He was clearly avoiding looking at him, but Sirius could just as easily read the way he was fidgeting with the two wands in his hands.
"It's true, mate," Sirius said quietly. "I saw it."
"But how...?" Remus started but just shook his head in disbelief. "Why the hell didn't he tell me? Why didn't he ask for help? How could something like this happen? And for months, did you say?"
"Yep. It started sometime in March, I think. I'm not much of a help with dates," Sirius said apologetically. "And I wondered about that, too, about why He didn't say something. But that" - Sirius pointed at Snape, lying on the floor - "seemed to have some kind of hold over Him. I mean, He let Snape come here, allowed him to do all those disgusting things to Him... Look, I'm sorry you had to hear this, mate."
"So am I." Only now did Remus look at him and Sirius could see the wet lines on his cheeks. "I just can't believe he didn't tell me. There were no secrets between us, not any more..."
"Maybe He was under the Imperius Curse?" Sirius asked. "That might explain it."
"And why would I have tied and gagged him, if he was already under my command?" came a muffled voice from the floor.
With an effort, Snape pushed himself up and turned to Remus, who had already sprung to his feet and was pointing his wand at him.
"That was rather brutal," Snape said, rubbing his head, "but what more could one expect from an animal."
"From what I hear, I'm not the only animal here."
"Yes, there is, of course, that mutt," Snape said and glared at Sirius. "I shouldn't be surprised that you have such faith in him, but, as for me, I am not in the habit of conversing with anything oil-based."
"I told the truth and you know it!" Sirius exclaimed. "I bet there are still blood stains on that bedspread from the time you had your little fun with the wine bottle!"
Sirius watched Remus's eyes widen with horror and almost wished he could take back what he had said. While Remus bent over to have a look at the bedspread, clearly hoping to find nothing, Snape eased his way to the foot of the bed and let his fingers run slowly down the wooden post. Evidently it brought back some memories, and no matter how hard Sirius tried, he could not shake the images off, either.
This time, He is standing, His bare buttocks rubbing against the post as Snape presses closer to Him. Snape's hands are on His arse, those long white fingers digging deep into His flesh, but He has no hands to protect Himself with. Snape reaches for the dresser, picks something up and lifts it to His face. 'Open.' Then the hand slides down again and the neck of the green bottle glistens in the candlelight. Grabbing Him by the hips, he flips Him over, pushes His legs wider apart and presses the wine bottle against His arse. The first push doesn't go in and only makes Him scream from the pain. Snape's other hand moves quickly up and out of sight. The second one goes deeper, nearly the whole neck of the bottle is inside Him, but now there's only a muffled moan. Snape moves the bottle faster and faster, banging it against Him with force, ignoring His groans, thrusting it inside Him harder and harder, until it slips from his hand and shatters onto the floor.
The waiting silence seems to last a lifetime. Finally Snape bents down to pick up a large shard of green glass and studies it, a sneer curling his lip. In an instant, He is flipped over again, His back against the post. 'A slight change of plan.' Slowly, Snape runs the shard down His body, making small cuts into His chest and then licking away the drops of blood. He's breathing heavily, His muscles are tensed, but He makes no sound. The lower Snape gets, the deeper the cuts become, and soon his licking isn't enough to stop the bleeding, and His white skin is streaked with dark red. Still, Snape continues downwards, until he's on his knees, with His cock in one hand and the shard of glass in the other. The panting changes first into moans, then into the repeated 'Please, no.' For a while Snape just stays there, pressing the piece of glass against His cock and looking up with an evil grin on his face. Blood starts to drip onto his fingers, but his grip on the shard only tightens. 'Please.' The glass drops to the floor and the cock disappears in Snape's mouth. The cry of pain is short but loud. He digs his fingers into His buttocks to keep Him still, and cheeks dented, he sucks on the bloody cock.
Wiping his mouth, Snape picks up the piece of glass and stands up. Quickly His limp body is turned around and Snape presses his cock against His arse, the shard disappearing from sight. 'Do give me reason to slit your throat open.' There's no reply. Snape pushes His legs apart and forces himself inside Him. There are only a few long, hard thrusts, going deep into Him and making Him let out a low groan. Then the hand falls down and the shard of glass drops from it, covered in blood.
Gently, Remus ran his fingers over the small stains of blood on the bedspread, stroking the cotton almost soothingly. Sirius could see he was hurting and it burned his insides to think that he had still cared for Him, after all those years.
"You cannot seriously believe anything that discoloured canvas has to say," Snape said scornfully. "It is merely a decoration, and its worth even as such is debatable."
"Oi! I'm right here!"
"I am quite well aware of that, you blithering idiot." Snape gave him a nasty look. Turning back to Remus, he continued in the same, cold and uncaring voice, "The blood is probably from some carcass Black fed that Hippogriff with. Or, who knows, perhaps he had developed a taste for raw meat himself."
In an instant, Remus woke up from his daze, abandoned the bedspread and strode to Snape.
"I expect you have no idea what it's like to care for someone, do you, Snape?" Remus asked, the wand trembling in his hand. "And so, you can't possibly know what it feels like to have somebody hurt the one you love!"
"I believe I just felt what it's like," Snape replied, brushing the back of his head with his hand, "to have somebody hurt the one I love."
That seemed to be the last straw. Remus charged Snape like a beast, grabbed him by the front of his robes and hurled him against the wall. As Snape made no effort to fight back, Remus was able to bang him against the wall several times before stopping to get his breath back.
"You bastard! You utter bastard!" Remus roared, stepping back as if retreating, but Sirius soon discovered that that was merely to get a run at it. With a force that only an inexperienced puncher would use, Remus's fist landed squarely on Snape's mouth, sending him face down on the floor, his blood spilling across the bare wall.
"Bloody hell, mate!" Sirius exclaimed.
"How could you...?" Remus's voice sank to a whisper, tears glistening on his cheeks. "How could you do that...? I never thought you'd be capable of... of such monstrosity. I loved him..." He stared in disbelief at Snape, who had just managed to get back to his feet, blood dribbing from his mouth. "Do you understand that, you monster?!"
This time, however, Snape proved quicker, and before Remus could even raise his fist, Snape's hand slapped hard on his cheek, causing him to lose his balance and fall backwards.
"How dare you talk to me about love!" Snape snarled, wiping the blood off his face on his sleeve.
"You don't even know what love is," muttered Remus, pushing himself up. He still had both their wands, and his own was pointing directly at Snape.
"No, I do not," said Snape, his previously cold voice beginning to shake along with the rest of his body. "But I assure you that there are forces far stronger than mere love."
Shamelessly, he stepped closer to Remus, whose wand was now nearly touching the front of Snape's robes. Sirius couldn't understand, why Remus agreed to listen to this; why he wouldn't just Stun him, punch him, do anything to make him shut it! Instead, Remus just kept staring at Snape, as if trying to find a reason for it all written in his eyes.
"Do it, Moony!" Sirius shouted desperately. "Cast a spell, any spell!"
But he was taken no notice of.
"I hated Black," Snape spat into Remus's face. "And that is something you will never grasp until you've hated someone as much as I have."
"I believe I have a pretty good idea."
"You fool!" Snape shouted and startled Sirius.
Suddenly he had the distinct feeling of watching a bottle of Butterbeer that had been tossed around and shaken long enough, and now the cork, which had held so tightly through all that turmoil, was finally starting to bent from the pressure, and soon they would all be drown in foam.
"I, too, thought that I hated him," - Snape pointed at Sirius - "but that was merely a childish dislike, nothing to do with pure hatred. It is only now that I've come to experience what it is actually like to hate someone so much that you cannot even breathe without that hatred. I hated Black! I detested, loathed, abhorred that sorry bastard! You know nothing! Nothing!"
Snape was breathing heavily, his eyes glowing with what Sirius could only describe as madness. But the expression on Remus's face was equally furious as he took a few steps back from Snape to give himself more room and raised his wand. Sirius was certain that he was about to kill the bastard, and a big part of him supported the idea.
His wand already in midair, Remus stopped abruptly and bent down, and as he straightened up again, there was something in his hand. It did not took Sirius long to recognise the ball of parchment.
"That's what Snape was reading right before he cast that spell!" Sirius exclaimed, in his mind railing at himself for forgetting all about it. "I bet it's in there!"
Glancing through the parchment, Remus backed further away from Snape, his wand still pointing straight at him. Watching the parchment in his hand, Sirius wondered whether it had been hexed to burn the fingers of whoever was holding it..
"I shall take that, if you please," Snape said quickly and his voice shivered almost as much as the hand he was reaching out. "It is of no importance to you."
"What is it, mate?" Sirius whispered, getting anxious.
"It's a letter," Remus said, lifting his gaze from the parchment and turning to look straight at him. "In your handwriting."
Sirius felt a lump in his throat, growing bigger and bigger. He tried to swallow it down, but it was already too large for that. Not even air seemed to able to pass the lump any more, and he was certain he would faint.
"It belongs to me," came Snape's voice from somewhere far away. "Hand it over, Lupin."
"There's no name," Remus continued in an equally distant voice, "but I'm sure it's Sirius's handwriting. Why would you have a letter from him?"
Blinking his eyes vigorously, Sirius tried to make the world clearer again, but the chaos inside his head refused give way. It couldn't be. A letter from Him. It was impossible.
"Give it to me!" Snape shouted, trying to tear the parchment from Remus's hands. "Now!"
Remus's wand swished through the air as his voice echoed from the empty walls.
"Impedimenta!"
Hands still reached out, Snape froze in the middle of the room.
"Read it to me, mate," Sirius encouraged Remus and cast an angry look at Snape, who struggled feverishly under the jinx but only ended up lying face down on the floor.
"Dear Severus, [Remus's voice trembled nearly as much as his hands.]
It was utterly delightful to receive that charming letter of yours, my dear fellow. As for your inquiry, I can only tell you what my window reveals to me, and that isn't much, I'm afraid.
["This isn’t Sirius," Remus said, shaking his head. "It can't be, and yet I'm certain this is his handwriting."]
As far as I can tell, however, the weather appears to be warming up, and there's practically no snow left in our little garden, except for a few picturesque patches in the corners.
["Maybe it's a code," Sirius suggested, but Remus just carried on.]
Yesterday we had a bit of a drizzle, but at the moment the sun is shining and the wind seems to be in the east. Then again, I can't be certain, can I? Forced to spend my days inside this house, I honestly don't give a toss where east is, you complete and utter bastard.
["That sounds more like the old boy," Sirius said and saw a trace of smile flicker on Remus's face.]
I hate you for what you've done to me.
[Sirius watched the smile disappear.]
That was it then, eh? And there'll be no more of it, right? I wonder how am I ever going to manage without you slapping me around, not to mention chaining me and shagging me up the arse? And in answer to the question you're bound to be thinking of, no, I really don't care a fuck about who might be reading this. If that old hag gets off on reading about places you've shoved your wand into, then let her, say I.
[Remus's voice trailed off and it took him a while to gather himself.]
But not to worry. It's quite all right that I won't have to taste your disgusting fluids ever again. You see, I've already found another and almost equally painful way to pass the time. They have this show on the wireless called Who's Who in the Muggle World, where they introduce some of the most interesting Muggles of all times.
["Now, that is an oxymoron, if I ever saw one," Snape muttered from the floor and soon found himself tied with a rope that spurted out of Remus's wand.]
They were talking about a French bloke by the name of Desad (or something of the sort), and, noticing certain similarities between us, I decided to do to my prison cell what he did to his.
Anyway, I do hope you find a tighter arse for that sorry little prick of yours.
And I'll be sure to keep you posted on the weather conditions at this end."
The room stayed quiet for a good while, before Remus raised his gaze from the letter and turned to the tied man, who had managed to crawl to the corner and was now trying his hardest to prop himself against the wall.
"What is the meaning of this?" Remus asked, brandishing the parchment in front of Snape's face. "What the devil is the meaning of this?!"
However, the man beneath the black hair remained silent.
"It doesn't sound like he was under the Imperius when writing this," Remus muttered under his breath. "Yet it doesn't sound like he was entirely in his senses, either."
"But it did say that Snape raped him!" Sirius said heatedly. Remus was obviously missing the most crucial point and he could not allow that to be forgotten. "That's all the proof you need!"
Again, Remus paid no attention to him and instead pored over the letter, clearly trying to think.
"He did to his cell the same as this Desad did to his..." he muttered. "Yes, I remember that programme... I caught some of it... Desad... prison... de Sade?"
All of a sudden Remus's face brightened, and he let the letter drop from his hand. Baffled, Sirius shot a sideways look at Snape, but whatever it was that had dawned upon Remus, it seemed to have made no effect on him whatsoever, and the man just sat there, his black eyes staring blindly ahead.
Remus, on the other hand, had already raised his wand but still hesitated, apparently not knowing where to point it. Then, after couple of quick turns, which reminded Sirius of Snape's swirling around earlier, he stopped, and with his hand high up in the air, Remus uttered the incantation.
"Aparecium!"
Gasping, Sirius watched as the bare walls around him came into life. The red writing, right under the ceiling, went all round the room, one block of text next to the other. They were all of different sizes, some reaching nearly halfway down the wall, while others were only short strips, containing no more than a few words. And although Sirius could not make out any of the words, all but the first one appeared to be dated.
For months He had been climbing up the walls, always covering the portrait in beforehand, and never telling Sirius afterwards, what He had been doing up there. He had even told the bastard Snape about it, but not him! Bloody hell, who could you trust any more if not yourself?
"Go on, mate," he said, though not quite sure whether it was really what he wanted. "Read it out loud."
- End of Part I -
continue to Part II