InsaneJournal

Rated: Light R
Word Count: 1,560
Warnings: Implied sex and lots of thinking, but not really graphic enough.
Notes: Written for <lj-user="schemingreader"> for the 2005 Snupin Santa, who requested a plausibly happy post-HBP fic, and Occlumency/Legilimency as a plot/p0rn enhancer. I wasn't sure whether I'd be able to do either of those effectively, so I tried to do both.

The rain didn’t usually bother Severus; it was no worse than the sun for the tasks at hand. Tonight, however, it was maddening, because he had nothing to do. The Dark Lord, in all his mercy, had decided his new favourite had earned a little respite from the action, which unfortunately left Severus alone with his thoughts.

The rain did little to help. It pounded relentlessly against the roof, overpowering the words of the book that he had attempted to read, which now sat on the table in defeat. It drew Severus’ attention to the last time he had been unable to escape his contemplations, the night before he had killed Dumbledore. It drew his attention to Remus Lupin, with whom he had been playing chess.

The hatred that he bore the man finally reached its breaking point after Severus cost him his job at Hogwarts. Remus had showed up at his door one summer evening and they had a rather cathartic confrontation. By confrontation, Severus meant that he had screamed mercilessly at Remus for 3 hours while the werewolf listened attentively, occasionally correcting him and offering his apologies. When Severus ran out of insults, he realized that he had also lost interest in leveling them at Lupin. The two had got on smashingly after.

Which became a problem, because Severus never got on smashingly with anyone. It made him uncomfortable. By the beginning of next school year, he and Remus had become good acquaintances, and Severus found that the idea of talking to Remus was no longer repulsive. By the end of that year, they had become very good friends and Remus frequently visited Severus for the sake of platonic conversation. Platonic meaning that Remus, who had a natural ability and love of telling stories, would speak amiably and Severus would listen and occasionally respond, while pretending to be mildly irritated. By the end of Harry’s 5th year at Hogwarts, Severus had fallen in love.

Which was also a problem, because if Severus had never got on smashingly with anyone, he most definitely, with greatest certainty never fell in love. Before. The way of the world had always gotten in the way, and it appeared that it would happen again. There was the fact that Remus had never once shown any indication of being interested in men. There was also Tonks, whose infatuation with Remus became more irritating and hex-worthy by the hour. Most damning, perhaps, was the fact that by the end of the next school year, Severus had killed Albus Dumbledore, the only man who had ever believed in him. It wasn’t easy. Actually, it was bloody difficult. But in his last moments, Albus had appealed to Severus with the same saddened eyes as when they had last spoken. He never could refuse the Headmaster anything.

And so he sat, in his dank excuse of a living room, firewhisky in hand, because there was no better way, or perhaps, no other way, to drown his sorrows, and because the rain refused to let him do anything else.

And then a knock came at the door. Thinking, in relief, that the Dark Lord had a task for him, Severus nevertheless approached the door with wand in hand. He hadn’t counted on finding Remus on the other side. He hesitated for a moment. Idleness once again proved to be a dangerous thing to Severus Snape, however, as he found himself opening the door. Sometimes, he thought wryly, there was just nothing better to do. Nor was he ever one to deny curiosity, and the man’s appearance at his door certainly evoked that.

“Did you do it?” Remus asked abruptly. The words were spoken without anger, which both intrigued and surprised Severus greatly. He had fully expected to be dodging a slew of hexes. Their absence left him speechless, which was in itself an answer.

“Why?” This was asked in the same manner. It was beginning to unnerve Severus. He was unaccustomed to hearing such conviction in the man’s voice. He stepped backwards as Remus stepped resolutely towards him, still unable to answer. Severus didn’t notice that they were both completely inside until Remus shut the door with a wave of his wand and stopped advancing.

They locked gazes for what seemed like hours.

Finally Severus remembered himself. “I find myself disinclined to answer the demands of those who forcibly enter my house. I would have assumed that you knew me better.”

“I thought I did.” Was the soft reply.

“I am a spy, Lupin. Excuse me if clarity is not my forte.” Severus frowned. “Why have you come? Really?”

“I find myself disinclined to answer those who blatantly refuse to answer me.”

“It would appear that we are at an impasse then.” Severus replied silkily. He was slowly beginning to realize that opening the door might not have been the wisest decision, but was nonetheless intrigued by the man’s visit. His house was not an easy one to find. In fact, Severus thought it near impossible to locate. Evidently it was not.

“It would appear so.” The bloody werewolf continued to meet Severus’ gaze evenly. Snape found himself unable to turn away.

“Fortunately, one of us has the ability to get us out of this little predicament.” Remus realized too late which one of them it was.

“Legilimens!”

Remus was thrown against the door from the force of the spell. Severus dove swiftly through the man’s mind, knowing that he did not have much time. He didn’t quite find what he was looking for.

There were no visions depicting Lupin’s desire to see Severus dead on the floor, wand raised above the Potion Master’s head. Nor were there visions of Order meetings that described Remus’ appointment as spy against him.

There was panic, most certainly. The deeper Severus ventured, the more he began to believe that this fear related to him in some way. He began to lose focus.
<i>
Is it too late? It can’t be too late.

He didn’t do it. He couldn’t have.

He did. Why? Who made him?

It’s too late. It can’t be. I never told him. He never knew.
</i>
“No!”

Severus staggered backwards, only faintly aware that he and Remus had spoken the last word he had drawn from the man’s mind together. Remus grabbed for his wand, but Severus already had his at the ready.

“Legilimens!”
<i>
”It’s suicide, you can’t go!”

“If he is on our side, he won’t hurt me, Harry.”

“And if he isn’t?”

Remus gave the boy a strange smile.

“Then the rest does not matter to me anyway.”
</i>
The images and words were whirling again, until Severus found himself staring at his own door.
<i>
Here. Finally. So long. Is he hurt? Safe? Safe. Merlin, don’t let him die. He can’t die.
</i>
Severus realized at this moment that the one thing that he could not resist was love. It was what Voldemort had offered, what Dumbledore gave, and it had been what Remus Lupin had been feeling just minutes before knocking.

Before he could process this, he felt a force pushing back. Suddenly they were in his mind. They were in Dumbledore’s study the night the Headmaster had asked Severus to do what he thought had to be done to further the efforts of the Order, even if it meant killing him. They were reliving the murder, the deep regret still poignant in the Headmaster’s eyes, eating at Severus’ soul. And they saw Snape seated in his arm chair, swirling the liquor glass, musing about the many ways he had failed Remus Lupin. And now the man knew.

He opened his eyes to find himself slumped against the far wall, facing Remus. He didn’t realize that his eyes were wet until the tears slid unceremoniously off his nose. Remus crawled towards him.

Severus felt as though the werewolf deserved an explanation. “I...for so long I’ve...”

“I know. I saw.” Remus smiled warmly, moving a little closer. “Perhaps you might like to try once more?”

It was an invitation. No one had ever invited Severus to share in their thoughts.

“Legilimens.” Severus penetrated Remus’ thoughts again, and found images of the man leaning closer, slowly, hesitantly, as though the act had been contemplated often but never fulfilled. He saw Remus draw nearer still, pausing right before their lips met, and then capturing Severus’ breath with his own. It was the real kiss that brought Snape back to reality, the passionate, hungry, impatient touch of Remus’ lips to his own. Severus allowed himself to float back into Remus’ mind, moaning softly in surprise as he discovered that he not only felt his own warmth and arousal, but also Remus’ as well. Remus clearly also felt this connection, as the scene slowly faded. Severus now saw himself buried deep inside the man, as Remus grasped at him tightly, screaming for release. And so he obliged.

They awoke the next morning on the floor, naked, entangled in each other’s arms. There they lay for what seemed like an eternity, neither wanting to break the silence. Finally Severus spoke.

"You cannot sta—"

“I know.” Remus answered. He looked up into Severus’ eyes. “Come with me.”

Severus held the gaze for a moment and then smiled. He had never been much with words. Fortunately, he found that with Remus, he needed very few.