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Seven Sins

Chapter Text

After the war, as the dust settles, Remus Lupin starts living.


Disclaimer: The world of Harry Potter, its characters and settings are the copyrighted works of J.K. Rowling, Warner Bros., her publishing companies and affiliates. No profit was made from the writing of this story nor was any malice intended in any way, shape or form to the author or the actors/actresses who so brilliantly have brought them to life.

This author is not responsible for underage readers. Please observe the ratings, warnings, and age of legal consent for your country.


Remus Lupin narrowed his eyes as he watched Severus Snape stalk by, the wizard flipping his robes away from Remus’ shadow with a flick of his left wrist.

Dumbledore was dead and gone, the war over and won, and the Wizarding World rebuilding. Harry Potter had run away from the Weasley wedding with Remus’ help, and yet, everyone loved them both. But, the more things changed, the more they stayed the same: Severus Snape loathed the air the werewolf breathed and avoided him like the plague, all while Remus wanted the blasted man with every bone in his unhuman body.


It was a Monday morning when Remus Lupin had had enough. Enough of being ignored, shunned, deemed unworthy of even eye-contact.

“Snape,” Remus bit out in a low voice, almost a snarl. He had the satisfaction of hearing the veriest scrape of boot leather as Snape whirled toward him. He’d surprised the most paranoid wizard in the Wizarding World beside Harry.

“Lupin.” Only Snape could somehow slice the end of his name so cleanly, with such finality that it almost crackled in the air as it passed his lips. Those piercing eyes didn’t blink—or flicker toward Remus’—as the whipcord lean body quivered to a stop. “Well?” That wicked right eyebrow rose slowly and, finally, those midnight dark eyes deigned to look between Remus’, at the bridge of his nose.

“I need something fro—”

“You receive your Wolfbane on time as per Dumbledore’s last dictums, do you not?” At Remus’ clipped nod, Severus sneered and his shoulders shifted, indicating he was going to turn away.

Something inside Remus snapped. Quicker than he’d ever moved, even during life-and-death duels during the War, Remus reached out and pulled Snape against his chest. Severus’ cheeks flared with color and then whitened even as his eyes narrowed.

“You will show me some clemency, you infuriating prick! I did the same things you did, fought the same enemies, and yet you still treat me as if I were lower than the dirt under your boots.” Remus shook the man by his shoulders, bumping nose to chin.

“I deserve some respect!” Remus growled. Then, he sniffed. Whatever Snape’s outward appearance, he was well and truly frightened and his scent gave him away. Remus laughed, a harsh, ugly sound that twisted his lips as he brought Severus closer to whisper into his ear.

“Severus…Sev-er-us,” he drawled as he rubbed his nose into Severus’ heated, perspiring skin. “You’re frightened of me, aren’t you? Is that why you’ve been treating me so rudely?” Remus smirked against Snape’s throat as muscles stiffened under that enticing skin. He inhaled again and found something new in Severus’ scent.

Remus let go of one shoulder and ran his hand down Severus’ front, from chest to groin. A bulge throbbed behind the placket of Severus Snape’s trousers, belying the idea that only fear was making Severus sweat. Remus leaned closer and nipped Severus’ throat, sucking gently on the mark.

“Ignore me again at your peril, Severus Snape. I know something new about you…” Remus leaned back and pushed one hand up into Severus’ hair and the other down to cup his bollocks in a purposeful grip.

Snape’s eyes flickered down and he finally looked directly into Remus’ face. “You know nothing about me, beast,” Severus ground out. He bit his lip when Remus squeezed his bollocks none too gently.

“You need to learn, Severus.” Remus changed his squeezing into a more pleasant motion, hoping to make Severus’ eyes cross if nothing else. “You need to change, Severus.” Remus leaned in and bit the spot he’d marked earlier, this time barely breaking the skin. Snape stiffened in his hold and the throbbing under Remus’ hand strengthened, fluttered, and then the wool over it grew damp.

Remus smiled against Severus’ skin as he lapped at his marking bite. “That’s a start, Severus.” He ignored his own dampened trousers as they tugged on his shifting cock. “We’ll see what tomorrow brings.”

Remus stepped back, pushing Snape away in slow motion. His fingers didn’t want to let the man’s deflating cock go, but he knew he’d made an impression—perhaps the first one he was in control of around Severus—and now was the time to let it sink in.

Remus whirled away and was yards down the hall when Severus found his voice.

“I’ll see you in Hell first, Lupin!” he shouted. The words rang across the flagstones.

“Already been, Severus,” came Remus’ reply. He laughed, a bright, happy sound, as he rounded the corner. “Rather find Heaven with you!” he shouted back.

Muttered expletives and hexes burned the air behind him, making Remus smile for the first time since he’d whisked Harry away from the life others had laid out for him. “Oh, yes, Severus Snape,” he whispered, “I will find Heaven with you, in you. If only you’ll join me.”


~~~ Comments, like rain in the desert, are greatly appreciated.
Thank you for reading. ~~~

Chapter Text

Why is that when one charts a smooth course, a whirlpool suddenly appears?


Disclaimer: The world of Harry Potter, its characters and settings are the copyrighted works of J.K. Rowling, Warner Bros., her publishing companies and affiliates. No profit was made from the writing of this story nor was any malice intended in any way, shape or form to the author or the actors/actresses who so brilliantly have brought them to life.

This author is not responsible for underage readers. Please observe the ratings, warnings, and age of legal consent for your country.


Days went by before Remus found himself once more within Hogwarts’ hallowed halls. Harry needed Minerva McGonagall’s signature on a document, and since he was still leery of the Wizarding World and Ginny Weasley’s wand, he asked ‘Uncle Remus’ to handle the chore. Remus didn’t even blink at Harry’s blatant plea.

“You know, if you go to Hogwarts for me, you might…um…happen to meet someone you, um, want to meet, you know?” Harry’s green eyes were almost guileless as he stared across the breakfast table at Remus. He glanced down at his half-filled plate and then speared some fluffy scrambled eggs and a bit of rasher on his fork while he waited for Remus to take the bait.

“You are following in your mother’s footsteps, Harry,” Remus said after he finished sipping his morning coffee. Harry’s startled eyes met his laughing ones. “She was always trying to get Severus to see me in a good light or to have me meet her and Severus in the library when they studied together.”

“Well, if Mum thought it was a good idea then…” Harry’s voice trailed off and he grinned. “Then, I’m doing something right and you should go for me, yeah?”

Remus chuckled and dug into his own breakfast with gusto. “Yes, Harry, I shall beard the lioness in her den for you and perhaps have an adventure of my own in the dungeons. Will that please you?”

Harry’s cheeks reddened and he kept his eyes on his plate. “Yeah, that’s a good start to my day.”


Stepping through the Floo and into Minerva McGonagall’s office was like entering a shrine to Albus Dumbledore. Not that she’d kept the strange mechanical contrivances or weird objects, but his portrait had pride of place on the wall and Fawkes’ empty perch was polished to a brilliant glare. He understood the reasons why even if it hurt every time he entered the place.

“Hullo, Headmistress,” Remus said as he shook the last of the Floo Powder and ashes from his feet.

“Hello, Remus, and it’s Minerva. When your son or daughter attends, then you can call me Headmistress.” Headmistress McGonagall stood in front of her desk and waved Remus toward a small, intimate grouping where a low table was laid out with tea and finger sandwiches. “Sit, and tell me how Harry is doing.” She poured out two cups and handed one to Remus.

Remus sat down, his skin prickling as magic washed over him. He almost growled—it was far too close to the full moon for him to ignore it—but he restrained himself and grabbed a handful of finger sandwiches, ignoring Minerva’s scolding face. After eating a few, and sipping the tea gingerly—there might be Veritaserum in it for all he knew—Remus sat back and crossed his right leg over his left.

“Harry’s doing well. He has his privacy and only those people he trusts not to bully him into doing things he’d rather not.” Remus could have bitten his tongue—the old biddy had put Veritaserum into the damned tea!

His eyes widened when she took a long drink from her own cup. “Yes, I put it in the tea. To be fair, I thought we’d best be on an even footing. I won’t ask you where Harry is, you won’t have to lie.” Minerva’s smile was feline, and a bit predatory. “But you must tell me what you did to set Severus’ back up.” She leaned back, her tea cup in one hand, the saucer in the other, waiting.

The words wouldn’t be held back, but Remus tried to change them as they tripped off his tongue just the same. “We met in the hallway. He was a rude prick and I was…I was…” He tried to keep his mouth shut, but it ran on without heeding his wants. “I was beastly and made him come in his pants.” Remus set his cup down on its saucer with a sharp clink, the plate of sandwiches forgotten on his lap. “I’m not sorry. He needed to notice me.”

Minerva nodded and sipped at her tea once more. “He noticed you so well he’s been storming around the castle for weeks, cursing portraits and inciting arguments with Madame Pomfrey and Madame Hooch. I’d say you upset his tea cart.” She laughed.

“Why are you doing this, Minerva? I never took you for having such Slytherinesque tendencies.” Remus held the plate of sandwiches as if it were a life line.

“I know both of you are reticent to the point of mute on your private affairs, but this could blow up if something isn’t done about Severus’ rampaging around, trampling on other’s feelings.” Minerva squirmed a bit and wrinkled her nose as if wanting to keep her next words to herself. “I want to see you both settled, and that will only happen if you’re together.” She pursed her lips and then gritted out, “I seem to be channeling Albus’ matchmaking.”

Remus laughed harshly, almost tipping the sandwiches across his lap. “Oh, that’s rich! You didn’t look so kindly on us when I wanted to get to know him as a schoolboy.” He put his feet on the floor, set the plate of sandwiches on the low table, and stood up. “If you’d just sign Harry’s document, I’ll leave and let this invasion of my privacy be forgotten.” He stood up, withdrew a thin scroll from his robe pocket, and handed it to Minerva.

Minerva’s lips twisted down into a frown and she stood as well, the scroll held loosely in one hand as she reached out with the other. “I’m sorry, Remus. I just wanted to make amends, to you and to Severus. So many years and so many misjudgments,” she sighed as she stepped toward her desk.

“While your heart was in the right place, you should have asked, Headmistress. I’m not a schoolboy anymore, and I’ve never truly been your concern. Severus would say the same.”

She turned and handed him the signed scroll. “Then accept my apology, Mr. Lupin. It was wrong of me to dupe you.”

“Apology accepted. Now, I’d like to leave. I’ve had a surfeit of your hospitality for now.” Remus stood still as she reached into a small cloisonné box for a pinch of Floo Powder and then threw it into the fireplace.

“Diagon Alley!” Remus stepped through, back ramrod straight.

As the flames turned from green to reddish-orange once more, Minerva shook her head. “Silly cat!” she chided herself. “I should never have listened to Albus.”


~~~ Comments, like rain in the desert, are greatly appreciated.
Thank you for reading. ~~~

Chapter Text

The moon's rising, the blood's pumping, tempers are fraying and the world is breaking apart.


Disclaimer: The world of Harry Potter, its characters and settings are the copyrighted works of J.K. Rowling, Warner Bros., her publishing companies and affiliates. No profit was made from the writing of this story nor was any malice intended in any way, shape or form to the author or the actors/actresses who so brilliantly have brought them to life.

This author is not responsible for underage readers. Please observe the ratings, warnings, and age of legal consent for your country.


Remus spent days working on his own projects, sharing breakfast and dinner with Harry, but nothing else. Minerva’s use of Veritaserum had reminded him of Albus Dumbledore’s machinations, of his not-so-benign manipulations of his school life, of his friendships, and his allegiances. As the pull of the moon grew stronger, his temper grew shorter until he finally snapped at Harry.

“Enough, Harry! Just shut it, will you? It’s too close to moonrise and there’s too much for me to do before then.” Remus ran his fingers through his hair distractedly. “I’m going back to the library.”

Harry stood up from the table where he’d been eating while Remus prowled their kitchen. “You can be a real prick, you know that? I didn’t ask to be saved, but you did it. You gave me space and a home, and I’m thankful, but you’ve no cause to chew me out over a simple question of what would you like for dinner.” The plates in the cupboards began to clack together as Harry’s magic rose.

“I don’t give a flying fuck about what’s for dinner, or breakfast, or even edible!” Remus snarled.

Arms straight at his side, Harry stared at Remus as if he’d never seen him, flashes of wild magic popping around his head. “Then what do you give a flying fuck about, Remus?” He pointed at Remus and a plate came crashing out of a cupboard toward Remus. “Do you care about being civil? About listening to me since you so kindly kidnapped me from what was once my home?” The plate circled Remus and then shattered over his head, powdering his hair with clay dust.

“Harry! Stop this shite at once!” Remus’ wand was out and circling, drawing his own magic close for a spell. Suddenly, his wand flew out of his hand to hover at Harry’s side.

“No! You’re a selfish prick! A goddamned little boy pissing in the wind!” Harry shouted in response. More dishes poured out of the cupboards, bombarding Remus until his own magic rose in a swirling cloud around him, protecting him.

After half an hour, Harry was done. There was a pile of destroyed dishes—cups, saucers, and plates—in a pile around Remus’ legs. The kitchen was a shambles with their meal splattered all over the wall behind Remus. As the last cup cracked and fell, Harry crossed his arms and glared at Remus, the nimbus of his wild magic slowly fading away.

Remus waited a minute, then another, waiting to see if Harry was tricking him into letting his guard down. He shook his head and willed his magic back under control.

“I’m not sorry, Remus. You may be a bloody werewolf, but you’ve no cause to bite my head off over simple things.” Harry picked his chair up and sat down, looking around the kitchen. “You don’t make it easy to be your honorary nephew, you know.”

Remus laughed. Something tight in his chest finally loosened and he stepped over the pile of broken dishes to walk to Harry’s side.

“I’m sorry, Harry. I should have talked to you when I came back, but I didn’t…” He shook his head as his voice cracked. Remus cleared his throat. “Harry, you are both the best nephew I could have wished for and my friend. I just didn’t want to tell you how Professor McGonagall had drugged me.” Remus bit his lip as he put his hand on Harry’s shoulder and squeezed. He said softly, “It hurt to have that done.”

Harry stood up and hugged his honorary uncle tight, his head bumping Remus’ chin.

“Well, now’s a good time, huh?” he whispered.

Remus nodded his head, his chin rubbing in Harry’s hair. “Yeah, I guess it is.” He looked around their kitchen and then let Harry go with a sigh. “Right after we set this to rights.”


Severus Snape stalked the halls of Hogwarts with a scowl on his face. For some inexplicable reason, he wanted to see Remus Lupin, the scourge of his dreams and the bane of his days. Ever since that episode with Lupin he’d been plagued by fevered dreams, some of which he could never have imagined before.

He’d woken up in a sweat that first night, his body remembering how good, how firm the werewolf had felt pressed against him. How the beast’s smell had been exciting even as his old fears had been roused. He’d gotten himself off cursing Lupin’s name with every other breath. Unfortunately, there had been breaths that had been pleas for more, harder, deeper.

He’d spent three weeks making potions—for the school, for St. Mungo’s, even for his own profit—and nothing had exhausted him enough to get away from the memory, the daydream of Lupin’s actions.

He actually craved the beast’s hot breath on his throat, late at night, in the privacy of his curtained bed. His skin prickled under the thin cotton sheets as he thrashed from side to side, trying to find a cool spot, a bit of peaceful repose, his mind racing through that encounter in the upper hall over and over again.

Severus’ brow furrowed as he scowled at the memory of the night after Lupin had accosted him...

He’d worked until there were more healing potions and soothing balms than Hogwarts Infirmary could use in a month of Quidditch matches. He’d then turned his attention to his private work—powders for sexual performance, oils to enhance any such encounters, even elixirs that could be shared during intercourse—all of which had all led him straight back to Lupin.

No matter how many eyes of newt he ground or how many fibers he’d laboriously pulled from lengths of Devil’s Snare he found something that reminded him of Lupin. The color of those changeable eyes, the sinewy strength of scarred fingers… Severus found himself rubbing against the edge of his work table as his mind had wandered.

He stilled, his cock throbbing as he fought his body for control. With a gusty exhale and an epithet that turned the air blue, he set his mortar and pestle aside, placed a stasis spell over the items on the table, and then went back to humping the table’s edge. He closed his eyes, imagining the hardness he was pressed against was Lupin’s hip bone. One hand plucked at his trouser placket until two buttons were undone and he had enough room to squeeze in and tug at his cockhead, smearing precome over it.

Severus grunted and thrust, pinching his fingers between his hips and the table, and not caring a whit! It reminded him forcibly of Re-Lupin’s firm grasp on his prick, the edge of pain and pleasure bringing him closer and closer to the edge until he ground against the wood, squirting out his release…and gasping out Lupin’s name.

Severus came to himself and swore! His trousers were undone and he had his right hand around his bollocks, tugging them down to delay his body’s response to his fantasies. Suddenly, he closed his eyes. “Accio Lupin’s scarf!” he hissed.

An old Gryffindor scarf slithered out of a box and across the floor. A Scourgify! and then a silent command to rub against his stomach and Severus could imagine Lupin’s shaggy greying head there, those slightly-elongated canines scraping over his skin. The danger of it was mitigated by the time of month, but he still thrilled to it. Severus tensed and then erupted into the scarf, biting his lip to muffle his gasping out of Remus!

Severus curled his fingers into fists and pressed them to his stomach. He didn’t know if he wanted to hold on to the fantasy or beat it out of his body.


~~~ Comments, like rain in the desert, are greatly appreciated.
Thank you for reading. ~~~

Chapter Text

Just when you think you've worked through most of your problems, begun a new path in life, something unexpected happens.


Disclaimer: The world of Harry Potter, its characters and settings are the copyrighted works of J.K. Rowling, Warner Bros., her publishing companies and affiliates. No profit was made from the writing of this story nor was any malice intended in any way, shape or form to the author or the actors/actresses who so brilliantly have brought them to life.

This author is not responsible for underage readers. Please observe the ratings, warnings, and age of legal consent for your country.


Remus hung up his shirt and trousers, threw his pants and socks into the laundry bin, and slid the heavy silk brocade robe over his shoulders. Ever since he’d found it in a second-hand store he wore it before and after his transformations. The deep Nile Green was decorated with what looked like Egyptian glyphs at the lapels and the hem, reminding him of Severus. He brushed his fingertips over his lapels, wishing he was wrapping Severus in it, and then laying him down on the floor, the robe cushioning them….

He opened his bedroom door, his mouth still tasting of the Wolfsbane Snape had sent over via owl. “Harry? I’m going out to the shed now,” he called.

“Okay.” Harry popped his head out of his bedroom door. “I put the usual potions and lotions out there. You want me to come with you?” he asked.

“No. You need to finish up your reading if you’re going to take that driving test tomorrow.” Remus grinned. “I wouldn’t want you to sideswipe any more cars than you have to.”

“Oi! It was that one time, and you were the one driving!” Harry protested. They both chuckled. “Well, I’ll see you after moonset then.” He turned back into his room and soft music began to play.


Remus’ grin remained as he climbed down the stairs and then went out to the old stone cottage they called the shed. Built with walls two feet thick and bespelled from medieval times with protective and concealing spells, the place had been the deciding factor for Remus when he bought his home after the war with his ‘heroes compensation’.

He opened the main door, lit the lantern over it, and then Warded the door against opening until half-an-hour after moonset. He slid his hand along the wall and a concealed cabinet opened; he hung up his robe and pulled out a stack of tattered, thick blankets and tossed them into the far corner. He also grabbed a small tub of ointment, not part of his healing regimen, and pushed the concealed door closed with his hip.

Years ago Remus learned that a quick twist of the wrist would ease his transformation and with thoughts of Severus crowding his mind, it was a given that he just had to do it or explode.

He settled himself in his favorite corner, the nest of blankets rucked up and pushed into a comfortable pad under his bum and back. With a sigh, Remus bent his knees and opened the lube, scooping out two fingers-worth of slippery lotion which he proceeded to slick from just behind his bollocks to the sensitive mushroom head of his cock. He closed his eyes and imagined having Severus do this, helping him relax into a puddle of goo before he slipped away to transform.

Remus could almost feel the strength of Severus’ fingers as they curled around his length, sliding up and down, varying the pressure as his cock throbbed. He could feel Severus’ hitched breaths against his stomach as he bent to his task, holding back his own needs to help Remus.

The fingers of his other hand tapped lightly, erratically, behind his bollocks, teasing him. Heat built under those touches as ghostly lips traced the veins of Remus’ hips before coming to map his cock. Those thin, mobile lips would be soft, yet slightly chapped from all the biting Severus did to them when he was focused on something. They’d mold to Remus’ cock and then around it, a band of loving muscle mimicking Severus’ arse….

Grunting and writhing within his fantasy, Remus felt something shift. The lotion wasn’t just slick anymore, it was itself heating up, adding to the burning in his bloodstream. His eyes opened and he glanced down to see his cock, his bollocks, and wherever else the lotion had touched was glowing as if on fire. He tried to stand up but the Change came over him, dropping him to the floor, adding to the building pain that should have been pleasure.


The image on the stone walls shimmered and broke into glittering fragments as the Far-viewing Charm was disrupted by the werewolf’s innate magic.

The viewer didn’t mind. The poisoned lotion had done its job. In the morning there would no one to stand in the way of the viewer’s plans for Severus Snape.

A shadowy figure stood up from the deep recesses of a winged-back chair and seemed to glide across the floor.

“Soon, Severus, soon. You won’t have to fear that beast anymore, and then I’ll show you what real passion is.”

The figure reached out and pulled midnight blue curtains apart to stare out into the gloaming. “I always envied the bastard, but now that the Dark Lord no longer commands me I can have what I always wanted, Severus,” the figure whispered harshly. “You’ll come to appreciate my protection and my power, Severus. What else can you do?”


Harry looked up, a flicker of unease making him knit his brow. He got up and looked down the hall, then went downstairs to check the windows and doors. Finally, he went outside to the shed and put his hand on the ancient stones. He pulled his hand away with a curse!

Finite Incantatem! Finite Incantatem!” he shouted, over and over. The air began glistening around the cottage as his magic tried to overcome what was happening inside. “Remus! Moony!” he yelled.

Finally, Harry calmed himself and his magic enough to call for help. “Expecto Patronum!” he shouted. The majestic stag formed out the fog at his wand’s tip, bowing its head and then shuffling its hooves, ready to run again. “Find Severus Snape and Hermione Granger-Weasley! I need them now! Remus is in trouble!” The stag nodded and in a silver flash, circled Harry once and disappeared.

He kept up a barrage of magic while he waited. Whatever was going on inside the stone cottage, Remus—Moony—was in the middle of it.


~~~ Comments, like rain in the desert, are greatly appreciated.
Thank you for reading. ~~~

Chapter Text

Harry Potter isn't the only wizard with a saving-people-thing.


Disclaimer: The world of Harry Potter, its characters and settings are the copyrighted works of J.K. Rowling, Warner Bros., her publishing companies and affiliates. No profit was made from the writing of this story nor was any malice intended in any way, shape or form to the author or the actors/actresses who so brilliantly have brought them to life.

This author is not responsible for underage readers. Please observe the ratings, warnings, and age of legal consent for your country.

Severus found himself face-to-snout with Potter’s thrice-damned Patronus just as he stepped out of his second shower of the day. Before he could utter a word, Potter’s voice burst out and then the will o’ the wisp was gone.

He scrambled into his clothes, still damp, ignoring his vest but grabbing his battle robes. “Always knew I’d never be done with these,” he grumbled as he pulled on socks and boots.

As a former headmaster, Severus’ magic was still tied to Hogwarts. He concentrated and the castle created a shaft that he just stepped into. He gathered his magic and concentrated. He rose up and into the headmistress’ office, bypassing the gryphon and the revolving staircase. He dissolved through a wall to surprise Minerva at her desk doing paperwork.

“I’ve got to get to Lupin’s! I’ll need your Floo.”

Professor McGonagall blinked rapidly and then pointed at the mantle. “The box with the reclining cats, Severus. The Floo Powder’s there, but I don’t have a clue where Lupin lives. It’s Unplottable.” She tapped her lips with the end of her quill. “If you concentrate, I believe you might be able to find him once you come out in Diagon Alley.”

“Severus?” Minerva stood behind her desk, her face grave. “Give him my apologies, if you would.”

Severus glanced away from the green flames and nodded. “Fine!”

He grimaced and then opened the box, took his pinch of Floo Powder and left in a swirl of green flames. His battle robes barely cleared the fireplace as they died down.

“Godspeed, Severus,” Minerva whispered.

Stepping through to the Leaky Cauldron was nothing short of nerve-wracking. Severus had ignored the whole of Diagon Alley for months since being exonerated of Dumbledore’s death. Now, he had to work his way past simpering idiots who wanted to praise him and grumbling, revenge-minded swots who were fingering their wands nervously to find where Lupin lived.

“Perfessor Snape! Oil!” Two strong, freckled hands grabbed him as he struggled through the crowd. “Harry’s called Hermione. Sent me to get you.” George Weasley, a streak of white blazing through his hair, just above the ear Severus had damaged, grinned at him. “C’mon. I’ll take you there!”

Severus went willingly, his shoulders itching until they were outside on the street, a space of a few feet around them. “Follow me to the shop. Use my Floo so we keep things private.” They set off at a trot, Severus barely restraining himself from asking why Ron wasn’t the one fetching him.

The bell over the door of Weasleys’ Wizarding Wheezes jangled as they pushed through it. George waited until Severus was completely inside before flipping the sign to “Closed” and Warding it shut. “There. That’ll keep the curious out. This way, perfessor.” George wove around some displays and then opened a door. “This is my office. I’ll open the Floo for you and then you can save the day, eh?”

“Weasley…” Severus didn’t know what to say to this boy, no, man, he’d had to hurt to save. “I appreciate—” George cut him off with an airy wave of his hand.

“If Harry and Remus think you’re all right, who am I to say otherwise?” The redhead wiped his hand over a box of dust and then shook it at the fireplace. Where no flames had been before green ones blossomed and then stilled, flickering in place. “Huntsman Lodge, Hampshire!” he said in a clear voice. “Now, go on and save him, eh?” Severus acknowledged the redhead’s grin with a nod and stepped through quickly.

Severus found himself in a lovely old manor, but it was of little consequence. Suddenly, he could feel heat, fire, eating at his skin, his bones, his blood and he ran through the house until he came out the back and saw Harry Potter and Hermione Granger-Weasley casting spell upon spell at the shed.

“Tell me what happened, Potter.”

Harry turned around so quickly he stumbled over his own feet. “Thank Merlin you’re here, sir. Something felt off after Remus left to transform in private. I came out here and there was magic and heat, so hot it felt like the stones should be melting.”

“He’s right, Professor Snape.” Hermione brushed a few stray curls off her forehead with the back of one hand as she kept tossing some kind of powder at the stone cottage. “Nothing seems to be working. We can’t hear Moony, either. That’s something that shouldn’t be possible.”

“Can you cease your actions long enough for me see for myself?” Severus asked. His words were almost without inflection, his body tense.

Hermione finished her spell, to no avail, and stepped back. “All yours, sir. I’ve done everything I know to do.” She blinked back tears. “I don’t know if Remus is alive or dead.”

Harry grabbed her hand and pulled her into a hug. “Do whatever you can, sir. He’s my godfather, sir, the only family I really have.”

Severus swallowed and then centered his magic. He pushed his wand up his sleeve and wrapped his battle robes around his body. With his eyes closed, he stepped forward, pushing at the wards around the cottage and then blending with them until he disappeared through them, much to Harry and Hermione’s surprise.

“I didn’t know he could do that,” Harry said in awe.

“He’s a powerful wizard who keeps his magic tight, Harry. If anyone can save Remus, I do believe it’s him.”

The observer felt a ripple in the fire hexes. There was a skittering of magic that seemed to be pushing back against them. Several minutes passed before the feeling came again, accompanied by an icy frisson of fear.

Someone had broken past both the hidden wards and Lupin’s own spells. The observer sat down abruptly.

Then a wand was out and guttural, writhing words were being shouted into the still air. The room was devastated as a storm of magic roiling across the walls.

“Damn you, Harry Potter!”

Severus had tried not to imagine how awful it could be inside Remus’ refuge. He’d felt the heat, inside and out, but seeing a werewolf being surrounded by ethereal flames was almost too much. He fell to his knees and began keening, barely bringing himself under control as those beastly eyes found his, compassion—not rage—filling them.

It was that difference that stopped Severus’ shock immediately. He closed his eyes and breathed deeply through his nose, ignoring the burnt air until he was in total command of himself again. Once he was ready, he opened his eyes and pulled out his wand.

“Lupin, this is not how I planned on seeing you again,” he bit out. The wolf huffed out a short bark even as it writhed in pain. Severus’ wand began dancing through the air, sparks of blue and white and orange flaring around it.

“You are going to help me save you, Lupin. You have a strong desire for me, don’t you?” Severus asked clearly. One ear, only partially burned, turned toward him, listening.

“If you ever want me under you, open to you, taking you into my body over and over, you’ll have to fight this hex.” Severus’ wand never stopped moving, a visible tracery of magic becoming a net of spells.

Moony whined and crawled off his smoldering blankets toward Severus, the only sign he could give Severus.

The wizard nodded and solidified his net of spells and then put his wand away. He grasped a corner of it and cast it over Remus’ burning body.

“As these spells counteract the curses and hexes surrounding you, I want you to listen to my voice. Block out all the pain with pleasure…” Severus sat on his heels, staring into Moony’s eyes, hoping.

The werewolf seemed to try to nod and the net enfolded him.

“When you’re whole, Lupin, I plan on tying you to my bed for several days. Merlin knows you can’t be let loose on your own, with only Potter at your side.

“I’m going to find out if your cock is really as big and hard as it felt that day in the hallway. I think I’ll like winding my tongue around it, flicking it into the slit at the top, exploring that throbbing vein underneath.”

Moony whimpered and tried to drag his body closer, but as he moved the net of spells slipped under him and he rose into the air to hover about a foot over the stone floor.

“Don’t fight it, Lupin. Just concentrate on pleasure, on health, on being whole.

“Now, where was I? Oh, yes…

“I’m going to explore you at my leisure, finding everything that no one else knows about you. I’m going rub my face into your chest to feel that hair against my cheeks as I tug on those curly ones at your groin. I’m going to bite and lick your skin until I’ve hidden all your scars with love-bites…”

Severus went on and on, telling a great many of his fantasies to the wolf. Several times he could swear he saw the promise in Lupin’s weary eyes and vowed silently to hold the contrary Gryffindor to it.

Over the course of several hours, the heat parched Severus’ throat but he continued to talk, weaving a different type of spell from those in the net, until finally the flames around the werewolf flared and then died away. Once they were gone, Lupin’s eyes closed and his breathing eased. Severus lay down on the now-cool stone floor, his fingertips inches from Moony’s snout.

When the ward on the door released after moonset, Harry and Hermione found Remus holding Snape’s hand, their fingers entwined. He shooed Hermione back out and then opened the concealed cabinet to tug out Remus’ robe and cover him with it. The draft from the robe flying over Remus woke up Snape, but he didn’t let go of Remus’ hand until he shared a long look with Harry.

~~~ Comments, like rain in the desert, are greatly appreciated.
Thank you for reading. ~~~

Chapter Text

Watching, waiting,'s what Severus Snape does best.
But, he's not the only one.


Disclaimer: The world of Harry Potter, its characters and settings are the copyrighted works of J.K. Rowling, Warner Bros., her publishing companies and affiliates. No profit was made from the writing of this story nor was any malice intended in any way, shape or form to the author or the actors/actresses who so brilliantly have brought them to life.

This author is not responsible for underage readers. Please observe the ratings, warnings, and age of legal consent for your country.


Hermione ran back to the house, throwing open doors and summoning healing potions and wrapping clothes. Harry and Snape followed behind, Remus hovering between the two of them in the air, wrapped securely in his robe, with Snape’s hand resting lightly on his shoulder.

“I’ve Transfigured the sofa into a bed. We don’t want to move Remus too much.” Hermione tucked her wand behind her ear and then wound her hair into a chignon and whispered a holding charm with two fingers on her wand. “There. Now let me have a look at him.”

“Miss Granger…Mrs. Weasley,” Snape corrected himself, “by what stretch of the imagination do you think I’d let you near Rem-Lupin?”

A strained laugh came from Harry’s direction. “Hermione wants to be a mediwitch or an Unspeakable, or both. She knows more healing spells than most of St. Mungo’s staff combined.” He guided Remus’ unconscious body to the bed as Severus flipped back the covers with a flourish of his wand. Once Remus was under the sheets, Harry stepped back, but Snape stood there, his fingers restlessly moving at Remus’ side.

“Professor Snape?” Hermione called. When he didn’t respond, she looked over at Harry and he silently reached out and drew the other wizard away from the bed.

“Are you certain she can help him, Potter?” Snape asked in a low voice. His eyes never left Remus’ still face.

They watched Hermione take diagnostics and then point and cast, over and over, for fifteen minutes.

Harry finally spoke. “She’s my generation’s smartest witch, Professor. We could call Poppy, but I’d wait until Hermione says to.” Harry chuckled softly. “Poppy once told us that Hermione was the modern version of Galen, without the toga.”

“High praise indeed. Very well.” Snape crossed his arms, eyes never leaving Remus’ still face.

Harry turned and went to the kitchen. It was well past time for tea and after all those hours in the magically-burning cottage, Snape might need something for his throat. Merlin knew he needed to do something. Pots and pans rattled, the teapot flew from the stove to the sink to get filled and then back again, already beginning to boil. The loose tea jar pushed forward on the counter while the scones from the day before tumbled out of the breadbox and onto a plate. The refrigerator opened and a plate with a roast on it wafted out. Minutes later, Harry had three roast beef sandwiches and a plate of warmed scones on a platter, the tea cups and pot bobbing in the air at his side.

He closed his eyes and pictured the coffee table growing into a proper table in the parlor. When he came in, Snape was still in the same position, his body leaning forward. Hermione was on the other side of the bed, a floating parchment and Dicta-quill scratching as she muttered readings at it. Neither one seemed to have noticed the table’s enlargement.

“I’ve made some tea, Professor.” Harry set everything on the newly-formed table and then went to tug on Snape’s arm. “Come and get something to drink at least, sir. You won’t do him any good if you’re ill, too.” He gently dragged Severus the few steps to a chair and then turned him toward the table. “Please, sir, for Remus?”

Severus blinked, shook his head and then sat down with a thump. “In all the years I’ve known him I’ve never seen him so still. Even when he sat in the library revising, his knee was bobbing up and down or he was playing with his hair…” Severus’ voice died away as he realized who he was talking to and he stiffened.

Harry ignored the man’s discomfort. “I’d be more scared if we didn’t have Hermione, sir.” Harry poured a cup of tea, set a lemon wedge on the rim and passed it to Snape. “Once she’s done, I think we should figure out what happened.”

The lemon was twisted over the tea, a few teaspoons of sugar were stirred in, and Snape sipped at his tea. Harry ate a scone even though he wasn’t hungry. Hermione’s soft voice filled the silence between them.

“You two will be pleased to hear Remus’ lycanthropic nature is healing him nicely.” Hermione sat down across from Snape as Harry pushed a cup of tea toward her. She took a sip and seemed to wilt a bit. “He’s been poisoned, no doubt about it. It was in something that he…” she licked her lips and blushed, “that he rubbed on his genitalia and other parts of his body.” She averted her eyes for a few seconds.

Snape’s face hardened. “Such an…intimate thing,” he drawled.

Harry spoke without thinking. “Remus always said that a wank eased things just before a transformation.” The tips of Harry’s ears reddened and he grabbed a tea cup. “I’m just repeating what he told me,” he mumbled into his tea.

The professor’s shoulders relaxed and he sat back in his chair, sipping his cooling tea. “I can see that.” A speculative gleam came and went in his eyes. “Right now I must know how someone got to this unguent.” Snape stared at Harry. “Who has access to his things?” He almost sounded jealous.

Harry shook his head. “Only Remus and myself. I always check the shed before he goes in. He’s awfully good at stocking it with what he’ll need, but after everything, I like to look myself.”

“Potter, would you allow me to search your recent memory?” Snape asked.

Hermione sat up straight, but didn’t say a word. She remembered the last time Snape had rummaged through Harry’s mind even if it had been years earlier.

“If it will help Remus, then have at it, sir.” Harry set aside the cup he’d grabbed and turned so that Snape could stare directly into his eyes. “I promise not to Occlude.”


A quick nod, a whispered Legilimens and Severus was inside Harry Potter’s head. The young man had learned how to protect his mind in the years since he’d inadvertently raided Severus’ memories. There were a few messy areas, all of them having to do with blond hair and brooms, so Severus ignored them.

He saw Remus bustling around the house, full of energy even though his joints were aching with his impending Change. Potter seemed to be trying to direct Severus to the early afternoon, when he’d entered the shed and double-checked the hidden cabinet.

There was a small tub of some kind, a cloth of some shimmering material, and a leather restraint. Other than two hooks, there was nothing out of the ordinary.

Severus concentrated on the fireplace, trying to see the mantle. Harry had only glanced at it so it was blurry. There was a painting on the stone wall itself.

A few more minutes and then Severus was out of Harry’s mind. He drew in a quick breath and bowed his head. “Thank you…Mr. Potter. I see you’ve learned to order your thoughts.”

Harry’s face hardened and then smoothed. “War does that to you, sir. Did you find anything?”

Severus finished his tea and pushed the cup toward Harry. “The painting over the mantle is no longer there. The stones are bare.”


In an opulent room somewhere, the crashing of china broke the silence. Two house-elves huddled together outside the door, shivering as the screaming and smashing suddenly stopped. The door opened on silent hinges and they stepped back.

“You will clean this room. Then you will retrieve Severus Snape and bring him to me, without his wand. I will be in the trophy room at six o’clock.” The shadowy figure swept its arm in a wide arc and the house-elves jumped and squeeked. “Now bring me a bottle of Firewhisky and a glass!” it roared.

Twin pops and the hall was empty. The figure whirled away from the doorway in a swirl of glinting fabric, slamming the door.


Remus came to slowly. He remembered getting ready for his relaxing wank and then the burning. He flinched and suddenly there was a cool hand brushing over his cheeks and forehead.

“Steady, Lupin.” Severus’ voice was so close that his breath fluttered Remus’ hair. “Mrs. Weasley says you’ll do, as long as you rest.” The heat from Severus’ face drew away.

“Severus…” Remus breathed out, eyes still closed. “Don’t go…”

The scrape of a chair across the floor and then there were two hands on Remus. One still stroked over his temple, the other rested lightly on his chest. “Perish the thought, Lupin. The youngsters are resting for the moment. Who else is there to watch over your mangy hide?” The words were harsh, but the voice was soft, gentle.

Remus’ lips twisted slightly and he sighed out “My hero…”

The fingers on his temple smoothed down his cheek to trace his lips. “Not a hero, Lupin. I’m just…I’m just a man…like you.” Remus tried to kiss the fingers and was pleasantly surprised when they were replaced by warm lips.


Hermione stood just outside the parlor and then turned to go back to the kitchen.

She watched Harry putting the tea things away without magic. “That would go faster if yo—”

“No.” Harry kept opening cupboards and putting things inside. “I might break something.”

“You know more than you’re telling, Harry James Potter.” Hermione leaned against the wall, her body telling her all her spell-casting had been draining.

“It’s Remus’ story to tell, Hermione.” Harry wiped his hands on a tea towel and then tossed it into the sink. “Why don’t I show you to the guest room? I can open a Floo connection and you can tell George his wife saved his favorite werewolf.”

She pushed herself off the wall with a soft groan and followed Harry up the back stairs.

“I don’t think Professor Snape knows I married George, do you, Harry?” she asked as they climbed.

“I’d expect it will be a pleasant surprise to him. Hell, he might just shake George’s hand for it!” Hermione gave a weak giggle.

Harry opened the connection and waited for George to step through. “Somehow I knew you wouldn’t just want to see her,” Harry teased.

“Yeah, mate, well…” George tucked Hermione at his side, a grin lighting his face. “Truth to tell, I was wondering how it went. Snape was frantic when I found him.”

“I’m going to sit down, George.” Hermione tugged on his arm and led him to the edge of the guest bed.

“He was burning from some delayed hex, but Snape saved him. Somehow.” Harry sat on an ottoman near the fireplace as the Weasleys leaned against each other. “Snape looked into my memories after Hermione took care of Remus.”

“Snape told him that a painting above the shed fireplace is gone now.” Hermione melted into George’s side with a sigh.

“All those spells on Remus seem to be catching up with me.” Hermione snuggled against George with a sigh.

Harry grinned and stood up. “You two stay here, okay? I’ll come and get you in about two hours. That should give Snape time enough with Remus and you a rest, Hermione.” He walked to the door and turned, surprising George as he was pulling Hermione into a kiss. “Hey, I’m still in the room!” They waved as Harry closed the door with a laugh.

In the hallway the grin fell from his face. Harry knew that painting on the stones above the fireplace. He was the one that had someone in to paint it!


~~~ Comments, like rain in the desert, are greatly appreciated.
Thank you for reading. ~~~

Chapter Text

When the sins are tallied, pride is considered the greatest of them all.


Disclaimer: The world of Harry Potter, its characters and settings are the copyrighted works of J.K. Rowling, Warner Bros., her publishing companies and affiliates. No profit was made from the writing of this story nor was any malice intended in any way, shape or form to the author or the actors/actresses who so brilliantly have brought them to life.

This author is not responsible for underage readers. Please observe the ratings, warnings, and age of legal consent for your country.


The house was finally quiet. Harry went down the back stairs, a Muffliato cast to make certain he could sneak out without anyone noticing. He didn’t see the curtain twitch aside in the kitchen.

“He couldn’t have done,” Harry muttered to himself. “He’s harmless, for Merlin’s sake!” He shook his head and found his feet had taken him to the stone cottage. He took out his wand and began trying to diagnose the spells on the building, sorting out his and Hermione’s magic from Remus’ and the ancient spells. He felt the love in the residue of Snape’s casting and had to push it to the back of his mind before he could feel the faint ill intent…right over the fireplace.


Wrapped in shadows, the figure was barely distinguishable from the winged-back chair it sat in. Every few minutes a languid hand reached out and brought a crystal decanter of something to its lips.

“Father, I—” The door opened, letting in the light which limned the figure in the doorway.

“I disowned you…turncoat,” the man snarled drunkenly. He thrust his feet out, seeming to slide deeper into the shadows. “Go away!”

The figure in the doorway stepped further into the room and a wand came out to fling open the long draperies and flood the room with sunlight. The man in the chair was revealed in his rumpled robes, a full day’s growth of beard on his patrician face. There were still ruined paintings and smashed objet d’art in the corners of the room.

“Father, the house-elves are frantic. They told me you’ve had a bad day.” Surreptitiously, the son’s wand darted towards the corners, removing the damaged goods into the house-elves’ hands and away from potential use as missiles.

“Drac-Draco,” Lucius Malfoy slurred out, “kindly remove yourself from my home.” He took a swig from the decanter in his hand and glared blearily in his son’s direction. “S’not like you care. I’m lonely here,” Lucius whined. He waved his empty hand around in a circle. “Never let me have any-anyone over.”

“You’re on probation, Father. You’re lucky they let you come home when Mother disappeared.” Draco crossed his arms over his chest and glared back. “I’m working at making the Malfoy name something to take pride in and you’re here wallowing—”

“Wallowing in ma-my guilt. Blah, blah, blah.” Suddenly, there was a wand in the elder Malfoy’s hand. “You’ve kept me prisoner in my own home. Son.” There was a hiss in Lucius’ voice and Draco tensed. “I’ve had to-to scheme and plot and…and…” his voice trailed off drunkenly.

Draco stepped back into a defensive position. “What have you done, Father?” he asked in a hard voice.

A painting canted away from the wall and crashed into him, forcing Draco down to the floor, stunned. Lucius gave a hiccupping laugh. “Accio Draco’s Wand!” he almost shouted. “Incarcerous!” Draco was trussed up like a irate Christmas goose. Lucius leaned over him, the sweetish odor of Firewhisky in contrast to the sour smell of uncleaned body.

“You stay here now, boy! By yourself, without compass-companionship,” Lucius growled. He almost kicked Draco as he stood and then walked around him, and the painting, towards the door. Lucius turned with a flaring of rumpled robes and bowed. “I dib-I bid you adieu, you self-righteous prick. You’ve kept me from Sev’rus long enough.” The door slammed behind him as Draco struggled in the magical ropes.

“Bloody ingrate!” Draco fought down his ire and began shouting for the house-elves. “Fifi!” he yelled. “Fifi, get in here now!”


Severus watched over Lupin, a frown turning his lips down.

“You shouldn’t frown, Sev’rus.” He stared and then reached for Remus’ hand, stopping just a breath away from grasping it. Remus turned his hand and Severus’ ended up finally holding it.

“Soppy werewolf.” Severus scooted closer, his chair scraping across the rug. “Can you tell me what happened?” he asked softly.

Remus closed his eyes and concentrated. “I was going to toss one off while thinking of you.” His lips curled slightly. “I grabbed my lube, began rubbing it in, thinking of how it would feel if you were there to help me,” he said softly, “to ease me into the Change.” His hand tightened on Severus’. “Then it started to burn.” Remus winced. “Oh, Merlin, it ate away at me…”

“Stiff upper lip and all the rot, Lupin,” Severus said softly. Remus’ eyes popped open and he laughed weakly in response; Severus showed him a small smile in return.

“Then you came.” Remus squeezed Severus’ hand again. “I…your Wolfsbane is a miracle. Even with the pain, I could keep my sanity, my hope. I wasn’t an animal in pain.”

“Far superior to what you once drank.” Severus preened slightly and then sobered. “Tell me about the painting over the fireplace.”

“It was a gift from Harry. Since young Malfoy’s probation was announced, he wanted to help the lad. Using George’s contacts, Harry found out Malfoy was a passable painter and finagled part of his probation here, creating a woodland scene that would mimic the world outside for me.” Remus sighed and his eyes drifted shut again.

“How did he get here?” Severus prodded softly.

“Harry sent a Portkey by owl,” Remus mumbled as he fell into a healing sleep.

Severus muttered to himself as he watched Remus sleep, noticing the absurd length of the man’s eyelashes even as he thought about who might have gotten their hands on that Portkey.


Harry watched from the hall as Severus Snape reached out and smoothed some stray locks from Remus’ face. He never would have though the git had a gentle bone in his body but he was beginning to change his mind.

He leaned against the wall and waited for a few more minutes, until Snape leaned back. He took one step…

“Kind of you to wait until he was asleep, Mr. Potter.” Severus glanced over his shoulder, his hold on Remus never breaking.

Harry came close enough to speak without disturbing Remus. “The Portkeys I sent were time-limited, Hermione’s idea.” He clenched one fist. “I don’t believe it was Draco, sir. He was truly looking for a way forward. I heard him interview Remus about what the image should show, asking polite questions, never throwing his lycanthropy in his face.”

“I myself have heard and seen the change in Mr. Malfoy, Potter. He’s a better man than his upbringing could have made.” Severus finally let go of Remus’ hand, stroking his fingertips over a scar on the back of it before he stood up and motioned Harry out into the hall.

“Was there any time that Draco seemed distracted or different?” Severus asked. “Was he always polite?”

Harry pursed his lips and stared at a point in space. “Yeah, now that you mention it… Just before the magical overcoat that brought everything to life was delivered he was touching up the landscape. I came in and asked a few questions. Before, he was always polite, answering and then asking a question after. This time he was…he was like the Malfoy before Fifth Year: snappish and snotty. I just thought he’d had a bad night with his father and left."

Severus reached out and grabbed Harry’s shoulder. “That’s when he did it!” he hissed excitedly.

“You mean Lucius Malfoy, don’t you?”

Harry’s question hung in the air as an eagle owl flew in through the window spelled just for owl deliveries. It dropped a scroll into Harry’s hands, hooted, and flew back the way it came.

He unrolled it, scanned it, and then showed it to Snape.

Severus read it aloud: “Harry, My father’s escaped! I’ll be there as soon as you can send a Portkey. Draco.”

“Looks like those battle robes are going to get another work-out, sir.” Harry grinned, a feral gleam in his eyes. “Want to check the wards while I work up a Portkey for Draco?” he asked.

Severus nodded and then smirked. “You check the wards. I’m going to make up the Portkey…and something extra for Lucius.” He looked around. “Where can I brew a potion?”


~~~ Comments, like rain in the desert, are greatly appreciated.
Thank you for reading. ~~~

Chapter Text

Lucius Malfoy doesn't know what a catalyst he's become.


Disclaimer: The world of Harry Potter, its characters and settings are the copyrighted works of J.K. Rowling, Warner Bros., her publishing companies and affiliates. No profit was made from the writing of this story nor was any malice intended in any way, shape or form to the author or the actors/actresses who so brilliantly have brought them to life.

This author is not responsible for underage readers. Please observe the ratings, warnings, and age of legal consent for your country.


“Harry, what’s going on?” Hermione asked, her husband behind her on the stairs. George merely grinned at the flicker of surprise on Snape’s face and leaned against the wall, his arms crossed.

“It looks like Lucius Malfoy isn’t done with us yet, Hermione.” Harry’s thin grin didn’t reach his eyes and Hermione reached back toward George.

Snape made an abrupt gesture with his hand and repeated: “Where can I brew a potion?”

“Follow me, Professor,” Hermione said. She had a gleam in her eye as well, one that Severus inwardly groaned at seeing again. “Remus has an old stillroom that might have been a medieval potions laboratory just outside the kitchen.”

“She’s got it stocked with quite a few ingredients, Perfessor,” George said with a laugh. “I helped, too, so you should find whatever you might need and some things that you might not want in our hands.” He straightened and jumped over the last two steps, a spell making him hover before his feet touched down on the hallway rug. “If you want someone devious, I can help, too.”

“I’d take him up on the offer, Severus.” Remus stood wavering in the parlor doorway, a white-knuckle grip on the jamb.

Hermione growled and wagged her finger threateningly at Remus. “You’ll get back in that bed if you know what’s good for you, Remus John Lupin!” Hermione scolded. She ducked under his arm and turned him efficiently around and had him at the bedside before any of the other men could blink.

“She channeled Madam Pomfrey just then,” Severus said in a bemused tone.

“Yeah, she’s scary brilliant that way,” Harry agreed.

George laughed. “Well, looks like you’ve got me as an assistant, sir.”

“C’mon, I’ll show you the stillroom. I know where everything is,” he leaned close enough to whisper, “and some of the stuff Hermione doesn’t know I brought.” They looked over their shoulders, making certain Mrs. Weasley-Granger wasn’t there to find out.

While Hermione was occupied, Snape, Harry and George quickly walked down the hallway, into the kitchen, and then outside to the stillroom.

Harry watched George pulling out two cauldrons (“Brass, gallon, and gold, two cup.”), unfurled a leather-bound stirring rod collection (“Rods: crystal, ten inches, and Elven steel, thirteen inches.”), and finally, saw him cast a spell to let them know Hermione was coming. George then flung open an innocuous cupboard to reveal exotic and somewhat dangerous potions ingredients.

Snape stopped, stared, and then absently rubbed his hands together. “Oh, yes,” he breathed out. “We’ll be able to make exactly what’s needed.”

Harry turned to leave, but Snape’s voice drew him back in. “Potter, your magic will be essential. You’d best sit in the corner while we work.”

George’s laugh barely covered the whine that escaped Harry.


Lucius stood outside the gates of Hogwarts, muttering and mumbling, looking baffled when they wouldn’t open for him. A faint pop startled him and he Apparated, Splinching his ring finger—bearing the Malfoy seal—and the pinky of his casting hand.

Dobby blinked his big eyes and bared his teeth when he recognized the ring, but he picked up the fingers anyway and popped back to the castle. He hid them and the Malfoy ring and went about his duties until tea time, when he set the fine china teapot, cup and saucer with the Scottish seal on a silver tray and put the Malfoy digits on a linen serviette. The finger sandwiches were on a separate plate.

Minerva McGonagall had been shaken by a great many things in her recent life, so finding two fingers and a Pureblood seal on her tea tray merely had her raising her eyebrows at the house-elf.

“Dobby,” she said slowly, “why am I receiving tea with fingers?”

The house-elf grinned. “Old master Splinched himself at Hogwarts’ gate. Dobby knew you would like to know.” He popped away with a decidedly feral grin as Minerva choked back laughter.

She stared at the two fingers and then plucked the Malfoy seal off of the ring finger. The fine diamonds surrounding a stylized winged snake glittered in the sunshine as Minerva turned it this way and that. Pursing her lips, she clutched it in her fist and stared out the window, toward the Quidditch Pitch. Suddenly, a mischievous grin lit her face.

“Dobby!” she called.

“Yeses, Headsmistress.” Dobby popped into the Headmistress’ office, bowing when she shared her smile with him.

“I want you to take this to Draco Malfoy.” Minerva held out her hand, the Malfoy seal in the palm. “You know he’s been working on changing his attitude.”

Dobby’s ears drooped and he twisted his fingers together. “Yeses, mistress.”

“You’re going to help him, and you’ll be helping Harry Potter as well. You’re going to lead them to Lucius and stop him before he hurts someone.”

Dobby looked fierce and his ears flapped. “For Harry Potter Sir, Dobby will help!” the house-elf crowed. He accepted the ring and popped away with a slight bang.

Minerva turned and shared a speculative look with Albus Dumbledore’s portrait. “You know something about this, don’t you, Albus?” she asked with a sly glance.

“It’s difficult to avoid helping them, isn’t it?” Albus countered.

“Did you know something like this might happen?”

Minerva sat back down and grimaced at the sight of Lucius’ fingers before setting a Preserving Charm and then Transfiguring the serviette into an opaque glass box. She pushed it aside and made up her tea.

“When the portraits at the Ministry saw Lucius had been released into Draco’s custody, I knew it was only a matter of time before he tried something.” Dumbledore took off his hat, straightened the point, which flopped back down, and put it back on with a sigh. “He couldn’t have his Dark Lord, he couldn’t have Narcissa. Severus was the only one left.”

“Well, he’ll find he’s underestimated everyone.” Minerva sipped her tea and sighed. Oolong and catnip. Her favorite. “I don’t think he knows that Severus is with Remus…and Harry Potter.” She smirked. “I dare say he’ll be surprised when he runs into all three of them at once.”

Albus laughed, and the other portraits joined in.


Draco Malfoy tapped his wand impatiently on his thigh. It was as if his arm was a metronome, keeping time to some invisible, monotonous melody. He stared at the gargoyle still guarding the moving stairs to the headmistress’ office, willing it to open and let him find Harry Potter and/or Severus Snape.

“Mr. Malfoy, I hope I didn’t leave you standing too long?” Professor McGonagall stood behind him, causing his tapping to slow but not stop. He’d long ago outgrown the jitters when surprised.

Draco turned slowly, his tapping resuming when he was face-to-face with the headmistress. “The house-elf brought me. I have no idea why,” he said slowly and distinctly.

“You’ve been paying attention to Professor Snape, I see.” Minerva waved her wand in front of the gargoyle—which obligingly moved aside in silence—and waved Draco up the stairs. “I think I know where your father is going, Mr. Malfoy. I suggest we go upstairs so I can fill you in.”

Finally, the tapping stopped. Draco looked directly at the headmistress, surprised that he was taller than her. “You’re telling me you had me brought here when you know he’s out there? Planning on kidnapping Severus?” he demanded.

Minerva’s lips pinched as she felt a spurt of anger, and suddenly she wished she could take points from Slytherin. “Mr. Malfoy, I’m attemptin’ to point ye in the kerrect direction,” she said, her accent thickening.

Draco’s cheeks flushed and he nodded, visibly biting the inside of his cheek. “Thank you. May we continue?”

They climbed the static stairs in silence.

Minerva crossed to her desk and picked up the opaque glass box containing Lucius’ fingers. “Your father Splinched himself when he couldna cross the castle wards at the gate. His fingers will lead you.”

Draco took the box from her hand with a faint grimace.

“Professor Flitwick gave me a charm that will point you to your father when he’s in your vicinity.”

“Do you know where he’s going?” Draco asked as he put the box in a hidden pocket of his cloak. He saw a catty smirk flit across the headmistress’ face before she answered.

“Why, he’s going to Remus Lupin’s.” If Minerva had been in her Animagus form, her tail would have been twitching.

Malfoy straightened his spine even more, his jaw dropping slightly. “You’re telling me Severus is there? With Harry Potter?” He shook his head. “I need to get there right away, but Harry always sent me Portkeys…”

The headmistress snapped her fingers and Dobby appeared with a long-handled wooden spoon in one hand, held like a sword. “I’s ready, headmistress.”

Minerva cast Flitwick’s charm and the box in Draco’s pocket warmed and then cooled. She ignored the sudden tension in Malfoy’s body and the reflexive twitch of his wand. “There. That should help you. Dobby will take ye to the edge of Remus’ wards. How you get through them is up to you and Dobby.”

“You really are a Gryffindor, aren’t you?” Draco muttered.

“Yes. Now, if you please, let Dobby take your arm and you’ll be one step closer to finding your father.” It was a measure of Draco’s need that he sidled over to the house-elf’s side quickly.

In a few seconds, Draco Malfoy and Dobby were gone and Minerva’s office was quiet once more. She rolled her eyes, shrugged her shoulders and shivered in place, then went toward the window and changed into her feline form. She stretched out and then curled up in the last bit of sunlight falling on her favorite rug.

She purred as she dozed, dreaming of a catnip-covered Lucius Malfoy-shaped scratching post.


Draco didn’t shake off Dobby’s hand when they suddenly appeared at the edge of the wards of Huntsman Lodge. He blinked as he quietly assessed the position of his body parts, marveling at the ease of disappearing and appearing with a house-elf. Draco looked down at Dobby with a slight grin.

“That was marvelous!” he breathed out. Then he remembered his mission and bowed. “Thank you, Dobby. I wish I could travel like that every day. No pushing or pressing, just…just from one place to another.”

Dobby stared up at the youngest Malfoy and nodded, his larger ears flapping. “You’s is welcome. One day I take you and Harry Potter Sir on a visit. You will like it.” He let go of Draco’s arm and looked around suspiciously.

“Old master nearby. Can find him with fingerlings.” Dobby swept his wooden spoon in an arc.

“You keep watch while I get the damned box out,” Draco huffed. His hidden pocket was deep and he had to switch his wand from one hand to the—


“Bad Malfoy!” Dobby cried out. He popped away and suddenly Lucius yelped.

“Bad, bad Malfoy! No hurting young Malfoy!” Dobby’s wooden spoon swung through the air and landed a solid crack on Lucius’ shin several times. Lucius began hopping around, his wand dipping and slashing, his magic zinging off everywhere but where he aimed.

Draco fell to the ground, his arms over his head, concentrating on silently calling his wand to him while his father and the house-elf went round and round. When the wand finally managed to come to his hand, Draco laughed as his father slipped in a puddle and then Apparated away with a snarl.

“Well done, Dobby,” Draco said with a grin. He stood up and grimaced at the leaf- and moss stains on his knees, swiping at them halfheartedly. “Now, let’s get to Lupin’s. Father will be back before long.”


Harry groaned and stretched, slipping off his seat. George and Snape had been brewing something only they knew, but every time he stood up either George or Snape would motion him back to his stool in the corner.

“Any minute now, Potter.” Snape’s face was flushed from the heat of the cauldron’s fire. His wand never stopped moving, almost silent incantations binding the ingredients.

“We’re going to need you to stir this widdershins for a count of twenty-one strokes and then fold for thirteen strokes.” George’s forehead was sweaty, hairs sticking to it as he plunged a bundle of ingredients into the roiling brew.

“Just what are you two making?” Harry asked once more. “It’s been half an hour.” The smell was making him gag a bit and then he noticed the two of them casting Bubble Head charms on themselves. Harry cast it on himself, still grumbling.

“Come here, Potter. I need you to stir widdershins for twenty-one strokes. As soon as you complete the twenty-first stroke, you’re to stop and fold in the Sargasso Seafoam for a count of thirteen strokes.” Snape’s voice was muffled but understandable, the pinched eyebrows reminiscent of Harry’s potion-making days before the war.

Harry approached the gold cauldron with the roiling brew and grasped the Elven steel stirrer firmly. He could feel an icy draft coming off the potion, but kept his eyes on Snape. When the potions master’s fingers were held up, he began stirring. When George tapped him on the shoulder—just before the twenty-first stroke, he wriggled a bit and as he completed his last circuit, Snape stuck in the crystal rod. Harry and he smoothly exchanged the rods and the thirteen folding strokes began.


Remus watched from the doorway, swaying slightly. He’d had to put Hermione to sleep for a few minutes so he could see Snape, reassure himself that the man had actually come to save him. Something must have given him away because Severus’ shoulders stiffened, but he didn’t turn away from the potion. George didn’t shift but nodded toward Remus, over Harry’s shoulder.

“You shouldn’t have done that, Remus,” Hermione whispered at his back. “Come to the kitchen at least. I’ll fix you something light.” She put her hand around Remus’ bicep and turned him slowly.

Snape’s shoulders relaxed slightly as he sneaked a quick glance over his shoulder, catching Remus’ eye.

Remus felt warmed right down to his toes by the heat in that glance. He just hoped it wasn’t a dry heat.


“It’s done, Perfessor,” George said.

“I’ll be the judge of that, Weasley. Douse the fire.” Severus dragged his eyes back to the matter at hand. “Potter, take that crystal stirring rod out as vertically as possible. Set it on the lamb’s wool cloth on the table.” He watched over the potion with a critical eye as the two young wizards did as they were told. It was as innocuous as a pale blue, opalescent potion should be.

“Do you think this will do the trick, sir?” Harry asked in a hushed voice.

“Oh, it will, Potter. It’s a type of binding potion imbued with a severing hex and a euphoria charm,” Severus said. “A variation of it was used during trials in Medieval France. For those deemed mentally unfit, the potion overrode their tendency toward obsession, calming them as well as removing the idea upon which they were fixated.”

“In other words, it’ll make Loony Lucius forget he was coming for Snape as well as making him a much nicer man in the process, Harry.” George waved his fingers in the air. “No more boojums or ghastly ghoulies to torment the poor dear. And with the additions we made, it should last for a decade or so. Long enough for Malfoy to convince his father he doesn’t want to make Remus angry.”

“Only ten years? Well, I hope Draco has a nice house to hide him in for that long." Harry stared at the brew and then tapped his Bubble Head protection. “Can we get rid of these things now?”

Tempus!” A countdown clock appeared, showing two minutes. “When you hear the cawing crows then you may remove the charm.”

George grinned. “I set one myself, sir. There’ll be some roaring lions soon, too.”

Harry shook his head. “It’s going to sound like a zoo in here soon.” He went back to his corner stool and sat. “I’ll wait over here.”


~~~ Comments, like rain in the desert, are greatly appreciated.
Thank you for reading. ~~~

Chapter Text

It was over without anyone losing a limb, or an eye, or any of their bits.


Disclaimer: The world of Harry Potter, its characters and settings are the copyrighted works of J.K. Rowling, Warner Bros., her publishing companies and affiliates. No profit was made from the writing of this story nor was any malice intended in any way, shape or form to the author or the actors/actresses who so brilliantly have brought them to life.

This author is not responsible for underage readers. Please observe the ratings, warnings, and age of legal consent for your country.


The still room rang with the cawing of crows and the roaring of lions as George grinned madly and Snape rolled his eyes. Harry pushed his fingers into his ears and closed his eyes until the sounds stopped at a whispered word from George.

Snape decanted the Bind and Sever potion into three palm-sized bottles George took from his secret stores. When their former professor saw the runes on them he grinned—actually grinned—at George and nodded.

“These will do nicely,” Snape said.

“Why will they do, Snape?” Harry asked from his corner.

“If you would leave the safety of your corner and read the runes on them, you’d see they enhance any potion or ingredient stored in them for more than five minutes.” Snape held one of the filled bottles up to the light as his thumb pressed in the cork. “See how the potion seems to be collecting a shimmer? That’s the rune magic redefining the potion’s intent.”

Snape slanted a sly glance at Harry. “Lucius won’t know what hit him.”

George chuckled. “Always knew you had it in you, sir.”

“As did I, Severus.” Remus leaned in the still room doorway. Hermione’s glare just floated over his shoulder.

Snape’s eyes flickered from Remus to Hermione and then he gave one bottle to Harry and another to George, palming the third for himself. “Now all we need is Lucius to show himself.”

“He’s shown himself, Severus. Dobby popped in to let us know Draco’s outside the wards and he’s had a run-in with his fath—”

Harry was out the door and running, his wand flicking and swishing through the air. Remus gave a tired grin. “He’s dropped the wards. Oh, only those in the east.”

“Well, now that you’ve delivered your message…?” Hermione let the question hang in the air as George chuckled again.

He stepped around Severus, an understanding look crossing his face as he headed toward his wife. “Love, what say you treat me to a cuppa and I’ll regale with the great potion-making adventure I had with Professor Snape?” George led a protesting Hermione away from Remus with a few quiet words.


Severus tidied their workspace, sending the cauldrons toward the empty sink and the stirring rods into a waiting bowl of sudsy liquid. Once he’d wiped down the workbench, he drew in a quick breath. Merlin knew why he’d been delaying looking into Lupin’s eyes, after all he’d just…

“…saved my life, Severus. You should know by now that I always repay my debts,” Remus whispered into Snape’s ear. His breath fluttered the ends of Severus’ hair.

“You shouldn’t be upright, Lupin, no matter how vigorous your constitution,” Severus sniped gently. His body swayed, trying to lean into Lupin’s even as his mind told him it might be too much for the werewolf to handle. The point was rendered moot when Remus’ arms encircled him and pulled Severus against his body.

Remus’ lips moved against Severus’ ear, making him shiver with awareness and anticipation. “You are mine, you know that, don’t you, Severus? My heaven, my treasure,” he whispered.

Snape’s body reacted before his mind could control it. He relaxed into the embrace and turned his head so that those wicked lips could press against his cheek as they formed fantastical words.

“You’ve the heart of a lion as well as the cunning a snake.” Remus softly kissed Severus’ cheek. “You came through fire for me, Severus. Does that mean what I want it to mean? Do you want me as I want you?” Remus’ lips opened and he licked delicately at Severus’ temple. “Do you want to be worshiped as well as loved? Do you want to fuck with abandon and know that there’s love behind every thrust, every whimpered plea?”

When Remus’ hand smoothed over Severus’ chest, he felt the man’s heart beating nineteen to the dozen, a veritable Anvil Chorus playing under his robes. He patted and petted and wove a spell stronger than any wand could cast. “Are you willing to give us a chance, Severus?” Remus asked softly. “Willing to give yourself over into my keeping as I give myself to you?”

A subtle growl crept into Remus’ soft voice, alerting Severus—even through the pleasant sensual fog of Remus’ words—that something was happening behind them. “Are you willing to follow my lead, Severus? It seems we have a visitor…” Remus’ voice trailed away as he tapped a silent message on Severus’ wand hand. “Be prepared when I step back and away.”


The sound of boots on gravel came to Severus’ ear. The steps sounded heavy, one of the feet dragging a bit. He shook his wand back into his hand and nodded against Remus’ chin. For a second, his back was cold as the werewolf stepped away.

“I’d never know a lover such as you,” Remus said in a more normal tone of voice.

“You beast!” The boots halted just outside the still room door, but the words cut through the air. “He’s mine!” roared Lucius Malfoy, wand at the ready. “He’s all I have left!”

Severus whirled and ducked as Remus fell to the side and rolled. Neither spared the other a glance as they caught and then divided Lucius’ attention. Spells of red and black fizzed and sputtered past those of gold and orange. Finally, Lucius stepped into the still room doorway, his back exposed.

“Father!” Draco cried, distracting him.

“Now, Potter!” Severus yelled as he lobbed his Bind and Sever potion grenade at Lucius’ chest.

A muffled shout of laughter made Lucius turn and Snape’s throw hit him on the ribs, breaking the bottle. Another bottle hit him square in the back as the mad wizard twitched and twisted, muttered spells sparking in the air around him. Finally, a bottle dropped from above as Lucius stumbled out into the courtyard, the potion oozing down his face and into his mouth. He fell to his knees and howled, then toppled over unconscious.

Accio Lucius’ wand!” Draco yelled.

Incarcerous!” Harry screamed at the same time.


Soon the incapacitated and insensate wizard was lying on Remus and Harry’s kitchen floor, Hermione examining him as George stared at the man’s wand in his hand. No one mentioned Snape’s hovering over Remus as he sat stiffly in a chair or Draco’s approximation of Harry’s shadow.

“You know,” George said suddenly, “this wand isn’t right.” He held it up and then conjured a magnifying glass. “See? There’s a faint crack it in. Something, maybe Thestral or Siren’s hair’s been stuffed into it, changing the wand.” Snape stepped closer as George pointed out the crack just above the wand’s midpoint. “Who would have done that?”

Draco spoke up. “Great Grandfather Black’s hobby was wands. He spent summers in France, learning to craft them when he was young.” He looked a bit ill. “Father’s study has his main portrait.”

“Hey, now, you weren’t to know,” Harry said gently.

“He’s correct, Draco.” Snape began ticking off reasons: “One, your father had been incarcerated in a malignant prison, that’s enough to drive anyone round the bend. Two, he could never accept that he had given his allegiance to the Dark Lord only to have it blow up in his face. And, three,” Severus raised one eyebrow at Draco’s hand on Harry’s shoulder, “he realized you were growing away from him and his teachings, becoming a better man than he could ever be.”

Remus spoke up as well. “You treated me with respect and I’d vouchsafe that you may have even treated your house-elves better after your own ill treatment during the war.” He stared at Draco, his yellow-tinged eyes steady. “You’re growing into an honorable man.” He smiled and his eyes flicked down to Draco’s hand on Harry’s shoulder. “One that seems to have found a good friend, if not something more,” he concluded softly.

“Well, all that’s fine and dandy, but he’s also drunk on absinthe and bad whiskey.” Hermione called up a list of glowing words with one swish of her wand. “He seems to have swallowed some Thestral hair, perhaps from a cushion or a live Thestral, I don’t know right now. He’s also been dunked recently, and as you can see, he’s Splinched his fingers off.”

Draco sheepishly reached into his pocket and drew out the box with his father’s fingers in it. He put it in Hermione’s hand. “McGonagall called me to Hogwarts and gave me Father’s fingers, and the Malfoy seal. Dobby—Has anyone seen that house-elf?” Draco looked around. “He was with me when we crossed the open wards…”

“I have a feeling Dobby felt his job was done and popped away to let Minerva know your father’s been caught,” Remus said with a laugh.

Hermione rolled her eyes. “Well, this all well and good, but we have to remove Mr. Malfoy to St. Mungo’s so he can get his fingers back and get that Thestral hair out of him.” She consulted her glowing list again. “It’s wreaking havoc on his magical signature. Very much a contributing factor in his…decline,” she huffed. George patted her arm.

“You mean his fall from sanity, don’t you?” he asked. George turned to look at Harry. “Could you send an owl for us, Harry?”

Remus and Severus shared a smirking glance as Harry shook his head and tore his eyes from Draco’s profile. “Uh? Yeah, yeah, I can do that.” He stood up suddenly, forcing Malfoy to step back and then whirled into the startled man, briefly embracing him as they wobbled together. “Um, where do you want to go?”

“Oh, honestly! I’ll go. George, you make sure they don’t do anything harmful while I’m gone,” Hermione groused. She headed out of the kitchen door towards the owlery with determined strides.

George leaned against the pantry door and shook his head. “I think she’s angry that she didn’t get a chance to cast her newest spell on Lucius ol’ boy.”

Severus pulled out a chair and sat, surreptitiously bouncing his knee against Remus’ thigh. He did it again when Remus’ leg moved closer.

“What do you mean ‘newest spell’, Weasley?” Severus asked as the silence drew out. Remus snickered and then bit his lip, eyes dancing. Draco muffled his laughter with a pale hand. Harry just ignored it all and moved around the kitchen gathering food and drink.

“She’s been working on making her own spells, sir. Want’s to be like you in that regard, she says,” George replied with a grin. “Hermione’s crafted a hobbling spell to trip a person and then hog-tie them.” The tips of his ears reddened a bit as he went on, “It was great fun being her guinea pig, if you know what I mean.”

Harry almost dropped the tea things as he laughed. Remus chuckled and Severus smirked, knee rubbing against Lupin’s thigh. Draco sighed and then chuckled as well.

“Trust a Gryffindor to find something kinky in bondage,” Draco said. Then he blushed as he reviewed what he’d said aloud.

Hermione’s voice drove the roses to bloom higher in Draco’s cheeks. “You’ll find out soon enough, Malfoy. We Gryffindors know how to turn a great many things to our pleasurable advantage.”

Snape choked on his tea, sputtering and spraying over Remus. Remus laughed so hard, he blew out bits of bikkie, and Harry dropped his tea in his lap. George clutched his wife in an exuberant embrace and bent her backwards in a melodramatic kiss. Draco just stood there, mortified.

Finally, Remus swallowed his biscuit and sent a glass of cold water bobbing through the air to hover in front of Draco. He grabbed it gratefully and sipped.

“Does this always happen after a victory?” Draco asked wonderingly.

“Quite often in my life,” Hermione quipped. Her cheeks were flushed and her lips were quite red, and her grin was just as wicked as George’s. “Seems we like to celebrate life with, um, enthusiasm.” Draco looked away as George’s hand curled around his wife’s bum.

“I think I’ll be taking my lovely, intelligent wife home, chaps,” George said archly. He was dragging Hermione along, but she was going willingly if not as quickly as he’d have liked. “You take care of Loony Lucius, all right?” They were gone before anyone could say a word.

“I say, Potter, wasn’t that tea steaming?” Snape suddenly asked.

Harry looked up and winced. “Yeah,” he choked out, “but I didn’t want to have Hermione poking at me.” He muttered a cooling spell on his lap and then sighed with relief.

“Potter, you dunderhead.” Snape left off teasing Remus and stood up, his wand making small circled in Harry’s direction. “You could freeze off your cock with that charm!” Harry’s eyes widened comically and then he giggled as Snape’s spells took effect, lessening the intensity of Harry’s.

“I’m going to wait in the parlor, Harry.” Remus tipped his head back and finished off his tea. “I think I need some more rest.” He looked pointedly from Snape to the door and back, several times. Severus’ response was a raised eyebrow and a small smile as he edged around the table.

“You two can handle turning Lucius over to St. Mungo’s, can’t you, Potter?” Severus asked as soon as he was two steps closer to Remus and the door.

Harry smiled as he looked at Remus and then Snape. “Yeah, we can manage.” He looked at Draco and his smile widened. “I don’t think I’ll be back until…”

“He’ll be back very, very late, Severus,” Draco finished for him.

Remus was out of the door and down the hall with Severus hot on his heels as soon as the words left Draco’s mouth.

As the door closed, barely avoiding catching Snape’s battlerobes, Harry chuckled. “You’d think those two hadn’t been laid before.”

“I’d say it’s been decades, Harry,” Draco replied drily.

“C’mon, let’s get Father to St. Mungo’s so they can set him to rights. By the way, tell me about those bottles you dropped on his head.”


~~~ Comments, like rain in the desert, are greatly appreciated.
Thank you for reading. ~~~

Chapter Text

What glory is there without a lover's arms to hold you within it?


Disclaimer: The world of Harry Potter, its characters and settings are the copyrighted works of J.K. Rowling, Warner Bros., her publishing companies and affiliates. No profit was made from the writing of this story nor was any malice intended in any way, shape or form to the author or the actors/actresses who so brilliantly have brought them to life.

This author is not responsible for underage readers. Please observe the ratings, warnings, and age of legal consent for your country.


Epilogue: Three months later


It was a Monday morning when Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy moved in together, aided and abetted by George Weasley and Remus Lupin. Severus Snape supervised and shared cup after cup of rare, fragrant tea with a glowing, pregnant Hermione Weasley.

“You know you shouldn’t use magic on that, Potter,” Severus called out. Harry groaned and set down the trunk Snape had given him as a gift.

“Why not? Why, oh why not, you insufferable Snape?” Harry asked as he massaged his aching back.

“I’ve put some special items in there for you and Draco. You don’t want to set them off, do you? Right now?” Snape waggled his eyebrows as Hermione snorted into her tea cup.

Harry’s blush radiated into the air around him as he hurriedly picked up the trunk and practically ran up the stairs toward his room. As if any of them believed that one!

“Mind you use your legs next time, Harry!” Remus laughingly called after his adopted godson.

“You two are wicked old men,” Hermione scolded. Her wide grin belied her words. “I hope those two turn out just like you both.”

Severus rolled his eyes even as his ears reddened at the compliment. “Enough, Mrs. Weasley, enough.”

“She’s quite correct, love,” Remus said as he dared a public display of affection and kissed Severus on the nose and then danced out of arm’s-reach.

George snuck up and kissed his wife on the cheek and then sent the boxes he was bringing in sliding up the banister.

“Here, now! Why’s everyone getting kissed in my house and I’m getting left out?” Draco demanded. Harry’s Apparation took them all by surprise as he appeared right in front of Draco and dragged him into a thorough snog and then with a whoosh of air, he was gone again. “Damn! How does he do that?” Draco whispered.

Remus grabbed Draco’s arm and pushed him into a chair next to Hermione. She poured him a cup of tea and patted his hand. “He loves you. Now drink your tea, Malfoy.”

“I see the movers have been in.” Lucius’ refined tones cut through the air.

“If you remove that broom from your arse, you can have a cuppa, too,” Hermione shot back.

Draco, Severus and Remus all looked at her and burst out laughing. Lucius merely nodded and continued down the stairs. “As you wish, my dear.”

“I see you’re looking quite fit these days, Lucius.” Remus looked him up and down, sharp eyes noticing a love-bite on the man’s throat, barely showing above his collar, and a sharper nose catching the scent of something flowery and expensive. “Is Narcissa still in France?” he asked innocently.

“My wife is currently at home, Mr. Lupin.” Lucius accepted a cup from Hermione and sipped his tea, eyes never leaving Remus’. “We are…,” he paused and then continued softly, “learning to live in this new world. I am…learning.” He looked at Severus, no trace of his madness darkening his features.

Hermione smiled at him. Remus graciously nodded. Draco grinned.

“How does Narcissa like having Potter around?” Severus asked. He could feel Remus’ foot under the table, nudging up his calf.

“She thinks it is both the harbinger of greater things to come and an enjoyable nuisance.” Lucius tipped his cup toward Severus and Remus as Draco excused himself and ran up the stairs. “I expect she’s started looking into bonding rituals.”

Switching tracks, Lucius slanted a glance at Severus. “She says you two are to come to dinner soon. She wants to…how shall I put it? Vet Mr. Lupin even though Draco tells her as long as you’re happy we should let you be.” Lucius looked down into his tea cup. “She says you may marry him after she approves of Mr. Lupin.”

Snape snorted his tea and had Remus pounding on his back until Hermione called him off and cast a clearing charm.

She wouldn’t dare!

Harry, Draco, and George heard Severus’ outraged hiss and felt the house shaking under their feet.


It was a Monday evening when Severus Snape watched Remus Lupin stalk across their bedroom, his muscles quivering as he bent his knees and crawled from the foot of the bed and came to rest between his legs. He widened his pose and sighed as Remus nuzzled the crease where his leg joined his trunk, first the right and then the left.

Quick swipes of Remus’ tongue left his skin tingling and his cock lonely. “Hey, there,” Severus whined, “someone looking for attention.” He bucked his hips upward, into the underside of Remus’ chin.

Remus smiled against Severus’ shuddering stomach, his five o’clock shadow catching on the treasure trail. He rubbed his face into all that flushing skin and blew puffs of hot air at Severus’ bobbing cock as he babbled and pleaded for something more.

“As you asked so nicely…” Remus drawled before barely sucking the head of Severus’ cock and teasing it with the tip of his tongue. Severus’ moans grew louder and longer as each inch disappeared between Remus’ lips, the blood rushing to his cock faster and faster, making it dance on Remus’ tongue.

“Mm…” Remus hummed. He proceeded to suck Severus’ coherence away until the man’s cock was being massaged by Remus’ throat with each choked plea. Then, Remus changed his hum. Severus’ toes curled, his body arched into a tight bow and he keened as his climax thrummed through his body and into Remus’.

Severus blacked out, or at least floated in a fuzzy cocoon of satiation, as Remus slowly released him and then Summoned a damp cloth to cleanse Severus, rearranging his limbs. He moved up so he could curl around Severus, his own prick throbbing insistently against his lover’s dazed and happy form. They lay together, Remus still humming as Severus slowly came back to himself and turned to press soft kisses on Remus’ shoulder.

“How do you do that?” Severus whispered. “You always know what I need,” he sighed, eyes still closed, a gentle smile showing the tips of his snaggled teeth.

“You were a gentleman when Narcissa started interrogating me tonight.” Remus bent his head to kiss the corner of Severus’ lips. “I thought you deserved a reward for not hexing her back to France.”

“Serve her right if I did,” Severus groused. “Nosy witch!”

“Did you happen to tell her I could smell the difference in her? Those special potions…?” Remus whispered as his hand slid down Severus’ ribs, over his hip and then around to massage his left buttock. He mumbled against Severus’ shoulder and a cool, slickness covered his fingers as he slid them into Severus’ arse with only a bit of a catch. “She’s a fertile as a doe in the forest.”

Severus chuckled as he thrust his hips back, a silent request for something more substantial. Remus complied with alacrity and pressed into his lover, slowly and then just rocked back and forth, in and out, teasing them both.

“Yeah…” Severus sighed as Remus changed his angle and his cock brushed over that magic button inside. “I told her when we left. I’d say Draco won’t be an only…Oh, gods, fuck me already!!” Severus demanded. Remus sped up, even though they were still lying on their sides, spooned together. His hand slid faster and faster over Severus’ prick, trying to mirror the thrusting of his hips.

Soon, Severus’ cock twitched and a few spurts came out over Remus’ hand. His arse clenched and Remus rolled Severus over, pounding into him until he exploded with a howl. Severus let him collapse on his back, a living blanket that began to snuffle against his neck. “Gerroff, you!” Severus muttered into his pillow as he tried to shake Remus to the side.

“Yeah…yeah…Merlin, I love you, Severus Snape,” Remus sighed happily. He rolled to the side, his face still close to Severus’. “Best arse in the world,” he crowed as he leaned close enough to softly kiss Severus’ ear. “An’ it’s all mine…truly blest…” his voice trailed off as he dropped off to sleep, still half-covering Severus.

“Love you, too, wolf,” Severus murmured and then he wandlessly drew the covers over them. “Definitely my idea of heaven,” he whispered as Remus sleepily slid his arm around Severus’ back.


~~~ Comments, like rain in the desert, are greatly appreciated.
Thank you for reading. ~~~