Changes

So I turned myself to face me
But I've never caught a glimpse
Of how the others must see the faker
I'm much too fast to take that test

~David Bowie, "Changes"

I'd only been awake for ten minutes. I suppose I would have preferred to use the time staring at the ceiling of St. Mungo's Hospital, contemplating the cracks and wondering how many days I'd lain in the same bed with the starched sheets and the thin woolen blanket. True to form, however, I'd immediately attempted to sit bolt upright and found myself on the floor. This caused a scurry and hue from the nurses' station at the end of the ward.

"Mr. Lupin!" a pretty young red-haired nurse said, more enthusiastically than I was ready for after my dizzy fall. "You must be careful. Are you hurt? Sarah! Sarah, Mr. Lupin's awake!"

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw an older, decidedly less perky nurse look up and nod curtly towards the young woman now at my side. "I'll get the owl ready, Margaret. Mr. Lupin, kindly refrain from sitting up so quickly again. You've been unconscious a long while and will no doubt have some trouble adjusting."

I shook my head to clear the cobwebs. Sarah the Not Perky took this as disagreement with her orders, because she looked sternly over her half-moon glasses. "Get back in bed, there's a good lad." I meekly complied with the younger nurse's help, before coming completely to my senses and nearly bolting out of bed again. "What day is it? What happened? Good gods, I need..."

"Calm down, Mr. Lupin," Margaret said, "we've been asked to owl Headmistress McGonagall as soon as you were awake. Be patient..." she looked quite uneasily over at her co-worker, "...I'm sure she’ll have the answers you want."

"Can you at least tell me what day it is, please?" I whispered. Surely a calendar reading wouldn't be a crime around this place.

"It's, well, you see." Margaret patted my hand. "You’ve been in a coma for two months."

"Two...dear God, I've transformed? In my sleep?"

I saw an owl flutter away from Sarah and out the window, and then she turned to me. "Yes. You were kept in the secure wing, but you never woke up. Please, Mr. Lupin. We've been asked not to answer any questions until your employer arrives."

I shuddered, and closed my eyes again. I was suddenly too tired to try to keep awake. Images of the people I cared about the most flitted through my mind, but I couldn't quite grasp what had happened to me. By the time Minerva got to the hospital, I was asleep again.

Maybe I just didn't want to know.

~*~*~

"So he knew who he was?" I could hear Minerva's clipped, worried tone as I came to again. For about the hundredth time, I had a wave of melancholy at Dumbledore's untimely passing the year before, because he might have known what to do and I was always half-concerned that Minerva didn't have the same handle on things. Still, I decided not to open my eyes just yet. Sometimes the best information could be gleaned by pretending you were out cold.

"He did. He mentioned his transformations and seemed to respond favorably when we called him Mr. Lupin."

"Interesting. It’s not exactly the curse we thought it was. We thought he'd have no memories at all given the circumstances. Curious. Snape must have gotten careless." I could hear Minerva pacing the floor near my bed. Her scent, apples and shortbread, waxed and waned in a strangely comforting fashion as she moved.

It was all I could do to keep my eyes shut at the mention of Snape. What did he have to do with this? Other than the Wolfsbane once a month, I'd had very little social contact with Severus Snape other than the occasional attempt at conversation by myself, followed by a grunt from him, at the Order or regular Hogwarts staff meetings. I had to keep things lively for him, since the rest of his teenage torment squad hadn't made it into middle age with us. I’d wanted to be his friend. He had rebuffed me at every turn.

"Did he mention what happened the night...did he say anything?"

"No, Headmistress, nothing. He fell out of bed, seemed disoriented, then went back to sleep. That's all I can report, I'm afraid. Very disoriented, really."

My mind shifted back in time to the last memory I had before I woke up here. It was there, but seemed very elusive. The more I tried to think, the more tired I felt and the more difficult and far away it seemed. It had something to do with Snape, and...I followed him somewhere and we were alone, and...

Not only was it getting me nowhere fast, it was making me exhausted. Since had I been such a weakling?

"Minerva," I said halfway between a croak and a whisper, wincing at the powerlessness of my voice. "What happened?" I opened my eyes again to see her standing at my bedside. For only a two-month hiatus from the land of the aware, I could easily tell that time had passed in the lines on her face. She looked exhausted. Fragile, maybe, was the best word for it.

"We were hoping you could tell us," she said lightly. "Welcome back, Remus."

I shifted in the bed. "The more I try to remember, the less likely it seems that I will."

A man I recognized from previous St. Mungo's visits as one of the staff Healers walked in and sat at my bedside, asking me questions. Minerva listened as I weakly answered as much as I could, but when it got to remembering exactly what happened I drew a blank. I told the Healer, whose name was Bartholomew Hawkins, what was happening in my head in as much detail as I could muster, which wasn't a lot. "Every time I try to think about the last memory before I went to sleep, I see this big white shiny mental object blocking my view. The more I try to look around it, the larger and more stubborn it gets."

"Memory charm, as we suspected," said the Healer. "Call me Hawk, by the way. Everyone else does. We can work on that, but it would be helpful to know who cast it."

Minerva piped up, "Severus Snape, no doubt - the last spell his wand performed before he was apprehended was an Obliviate. That's why we were so certain he wouldn't remember whom he was when he awoke - Severus was always known for his skilled use of memory charms, which was why he was a fantastic spy. On us, apparently."

"Apprehended?" I asked. I could see where this was going.

Minerva fixed her stare on me, clearly warring within herself about what to tell me. She opted for the whole truth. "You were found, naked, bleeding, and unconscious, with Snape all bloodied, clutching his wand that had cast several damning spells. He was put in Azkaban for your assault and attempted murder two months ago. He will also be serving a sentence for war crimes along with another Death Eater that was captured that night."

I shook my head. "Impossible. He couldn't - wouldn't - have hurt me." I said it with a fierce certainty, even though rationally I knew could be a sadistic fuck and might just have cursed and beaten me out of spite, especially if he had chosen to fight at Voldemort's side rather than ours. Still, that little part of my brain unaffected by the memory charm was telling me that Snape didn't hurt me. He had tried...tried...it was blocked in my head what he had tried to do.

"He didn't speak up in his own defense, so we assume he did, indeed commit atrocities either in his own name or in Voldemort's."

"Minerva," I whispered. "The bloody stubborn goat. He wouldn't."

She closed her eyes, and for a moment I realized that she knew this but had elected to say nothing. I now had more questions than I'd had previously.

"I'll return," she said, turning on her heel to leave.

Hawk clucked and watched the door shut. "She's been here nearly every day," he said. "I always feel like she'll take points from me if I can't fix you."

I smiled as best I could. "You were in school with me. I remember you. Hufflepuff?"

"Yes," Hawk said, "about four years behind you. I see your long-term recall is working well - I'm surprised you remember me at all, since I wasn't in your House. Now, about that memory charm..."

~*~*~

As I think back on it, the time spent at St. Mungo's was the calm before the storm. With Hawk's help, I regained much of my memory around the time I had been assaulted, though Snape's particular involvement in the situation and much about the night remained elusive. I continued to have a strong feeling that he had tried to help me, not injure me, but I could not base this upon any rational clue. I spent one more full moon at the hospital, and was gratified to learn that Wolfsbane actually tasted like a sloe gin fizz when not prepared by Snape. Even with this realization, I continued to feel a curious affinity for the man that had, by all appearances, landed me in this place.

Hawk told me that he'd done all he could in terms of my memory of the night of my assault. "If the person who cast the Obliviate were to remove the charm, that would restore the memory. There's been some research done into Legilimency's usefulness in finding lost memories. Unfortunately, the two practitioners most likely to have success with that were Albus Dumbledore - God rest his soul - and Severus Snape."

"So you're saying that even if Severus didn't cast that memory charm, he might be able to help me remember?"

"He was there, Remus, and he might have a vested interest in having you not remember. Or, better yet, he might plant a false memory. No, that is one course not open to you. I'm sorry."

"It's possible that a guilty man walks free and an innocent one rots in jail, yes?"

"Possible, but then why wouldn't he have spoken in his own defense?"

I waved my hand dismissively. "Fudge wanted him in jail, I can promise you that. It is very possible Severus didn't speak because he was aware it would do no good."

"You seem really anxious to bestow kind thoughts upon the one person most likely - convicted! - of having nearly killed you."

I looked down at my fingernails. "He'd had so many opportunities to do so before that night. I cannot - will not believe that he suddenly decided to do so. Something else is afoot here, and I will find out what it is. I won't have an innocent man sit in that prison again when I can help it, Hawk. Sirius Black lost most of his adult life to a lie."

"Yes, but he never spoke in his own defense either."

"One was as bloody stubborn as the other. That's why they were enemies, and why I cared so much about them both."

I was released on a fine, clear day in late May. I returned to my quarters at Hogwarts. Minerva had replaced me with an old friend - Bill Weasley, on loan from Gringotts - so my classes had been in excellent hands. There were a lot of tittering girls and not a few boys whenever he walked by, of course, but that was to be expected. I'd never been able to resist having a minor crush on him myself. One night at end of term, Bill and I had dinner in Hogsmeade with Hermione Granger, who was in town for a lecture on Experimental Memory Charms of all things. I'd not kept up well with Hermione after she left Hogwarts. I saw her at Order meetings, head bent low with Harry or Tonks in various discussions, but I never was involved in those talks. I knew she was involved in research at the Ministry, which didn't surprise me. Bill was the one who suggested meeting with her; at least someone was keeping up on Hermione's work and looking out for me.

"Remus," Hermione said after the drinks arrived, "let me be blunt. You might be the subject I need for an experimental memory retrieval system I've been working on." I noticed right off that she looked very nervous. I wondered if that was because I was her former professor, or because she wasn't confident in her research. I remembered telling her once, what seemed like eons ago, that she was the cleverest witch of her generation. It had been true then. I didn't think Bill would have dragged me here if it wasn't true now, so I decided exploration of her idea might be worth my time.

I threw back my gin and tonic with one gulp. "Experiment? I don't understand. Please elaborate."

Bill smiled and patted my hand. "Hermione is researching memory charms and the use of Pensieves to elicit buried, or blocked, memories. I mentioned your case to her last time I saw her, and she has been looking into alternatives for you. She contacted your healer at St. Mungo's a few weeks back for more specifics on your situation. She owled me last week, and well..." his voice trailed off and he looked a little sheepish.

I didn't know whether to feel petulant that they were scheming around me or glad that there might be an alternative. I chose the latter. "Tell me more about your research, Hermione."

After a few more gin and tonics and a fine steak and kidney pie, Hermione and Bill had me convinced to try her method. She couldn't promise that it wouldn't hurt me, though. "It might take away memories permanently - they'd be stored in the Pensieve, of course, but they may not move both ways. It is not as precise as I'd like it to be, and trials with animals have had mixed results."

I nodded. "Am I the first human being you've experimented with?"

She blushed. "I won't ask you to do this if you are uncomfortable in any way."

I thought of Severus Snape, the great self-important git, shriveling up in Azkaban. The thought of that made me so unaccountably melancholy - why did I care, after what he supposedly had done? - that I reached across for her hands and clasped them in mine. "I'm willing to try anything. I want to know what happened that night. I want to know if he is there deservedly or not. Do you think you can help me?"

Her blush deepened, and she looked over at Bill. She had actually grown into a very pretty young woman. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Bill studying her, and wondered if his interest in her was more than professional. "I think it's very possible," she finally said, probably more confidently than she actually felt.

"When do we start?" I suppose I sounded more confident than I felt, as well.

~*~*~

Bill had the grace to melt into the background, as Hermione accepted my tea in my chambers and chattered animatedly about the process. She was, indeed, the cleverest witch I'd probably ever known. I couldn't believe that no one had ever thought of her idea, which basically involved taking the blocked memories out with her wand, and putting them in a Pensieve for study. The key to the effectiveness of the process was a wand belonging to someone completely unaffected by the events surrounding the memory charm. She was able to provide this easily, since we'd not seen each other for a long while. What she outlined wasn't easy, of course, but the theory behind it seemed quite solid given what I knew about Pensieves and the thoughts they were able to store.

When she'd proposed working on the problem that night, I'd been pretty shocked. Of course I remember very little of the process. She was right that it would not be without side effects; I don't remember anything that happened from the time she produced the Pensieve up to the moment I recovered my memories of the night I was attacked. As far as I'm concerned, it was a fair tradeoff to lose a few non-traumatic minutes in the company of friends to save an innocent man.

All told, it seemed rather anticlimactic to come to myself after the process and realize that Severus Snape had saved me from being killed. He had, at great personal risk, pulled me from certain death at the hands of our former classmate Vincent Crabbe the elder - right before Crabbe and Snape were both nabbed by Aurors. I could see why it had looked bad. I'd been raped fairly brutally by Crabbe. I'd been beaten within an inch off my life - I cringe even now to remember my fear. I'd had the Cruciatus curse used on me more than once. Severus had been with us, though I couldn't really recall how he found us. He cast an Expelliarmus charm, then several other hexes on Crabbe. Then Snape held my nearly lifeless, torn body as Crabbe lay whimpering on the hard ground. I was curled in a fetal position and crying like a child. I remember him smoothing my hair back and telling me this was for my own protection, before casting a charm on me. I could see why the Ministry said he'd cast suspicious charms with his wand - the evidence of why he'd done so was now clear. He was, indeed, responsible for the Obliviate cast on me, and several other hexes and spells of dubious legality - no doubts about that now. But he'd done it out of some type of altruism from all appearances, not self-protection.

Hermione, Bill, and I stared at the memory in the Pensieve as one, bound together in silence as unseen observers as Aurors came and took away Crabbe and Snape and lifted the me of several months ago onto a stretcher. I looked at Hermione, who sat by my side watching the scene unfold. "Is there any chance this is manufactured?"

"No chance," she said. Bill shook his head.

My next move was to contact Minerva.

~*~*~

I heard Hagrid say once that Azkaban is never warm. On a sultry day in early June, I disembarked from a boat on the shore of the island where Azkaban was located and immediately shivered. I sipped the cup of hot chocolate I carried with me and felt a little better, but I knew I wouldn't be warm again for a long while.

The human warden, a retired Auror, looked over the papers I brought with me and shook his head. "Ye won't want him," the grizzled old Scotsman said curtly. "He's ain a bad way, he is. I 'spected he wouldna' made it through last nigh'."

I was instantly alarmed. "What's wrong with him?"

The Auror shrugged. "Same 's them all, I 'spect. Dyin's the only way t' make the pain stop, ye know."

I felt as if I'd been struck through my gut. I knew of the torment of Azkaban well, of course, having heard Sirius' tales of woe; but Sirius had been able to transform to keep the Dementors at bay. Snape, of course, had no such talent or escape. "All the same, sir, I'd like to take him home." I slipped seventeen galleons into the wrinkled, dirty hand, and he smiled a thin smile. "Aye. Wait here."

I'll never forget the first time I saw him, hunched over in his torn gray prison shift. I'd never encountered Severus Snape without a scathing remark on his lips, a hard black glint in his eye and his shoulders squared even in the face of humiliation or torment. I'd silently witnessed my friends heap untold cruelty on him as a teenager, and I'd seen him retreat into himself and his darkness and become a man that we often privately joked was soulless. Looking at the man now standing before me, I understood with clarity that he indeed had a soul. What was left of it after living among Dementors and Death Eaters was in tattered ruins. It wasn't a physical state so much as his dull, unseeing eyes. He never spoke a word as I took custody of him, leading his rigid body by the arm to our waiting ferry. I had to seat him and hold his arm on the short journey to the mainland for fear he would pitch himself over the side. I offered him chocolate, but his head turned away from me. I wanted to see his sneer, a disdain for my concern, but I saw nothing at all.

When we arrived by hired carriage at the gates of Hogwarts Castle, I paid the driver to help me escort Severus to my quarters. His own rooms were made up and ready for him, but I knew he could not be alone. I wouldn't allow it. He'd been in Azkaban for months because of my inability to clear his name; I'd be damned if I allowed him to go to that prison of his own making far below the castle. I owed him my life. I owed him everything.

I was really unused to having such an enormous emotional responsibility, and I must confess that I wasn't really entirely healthy in my approach to the whole thing. It got me into a right mess almost immediately. I shunned help; Minerva, Madam Pomfrey, even Bill offered to help me care for Severus until he came around. I knew it was ridiculous that I shouldered so much guilt about Severus; it wasn't as if I had purposely failed to remember that he had saved me! He was the one who had refused to testify on his own behalf. He was the one who had attempted to spare me by placing a memory charm on me. No matter. I desperately searched his face each morning, looking for the arrogant bastard to arrive. For a week, I was utterly disappointed.

Minerva finally forced me to move him down to his dungeon suite, at least at night while I slept; I could  imagine the worried looks on the staff's faces as they surely held a closed-door summit on how to handle my growing obsession with Severus' well being. I allowed the house-elves to move him, but drew the line at her suggestion that they do his daily care as well. "I will handle it, Minerva," I said as forcefully as I could muster considering that a full moon was approaching in  a few days' time. "They can tend to him while I am indisposed, but that is all."

I could see the words dying to escape from behind those tight lips, but in the end she only nodded and placed her hand on my shoulder. Part of me knew that I was behaving irrationally, but most of me cared very little. Classes had mercifully come to an end. Bill packed up and left for the Burrow, which took a load off my shoulders; I'd not wanted to say anything, but he was in my way and I had missed teaching my courses. Plus, he was too solicitous of me and I was generally irritated with his innuendo about my Severus fixation. Of course, now I can look back on those days and realize that Bill, Minerva, and the rest of them were right about my behaviour and the trouble it was bound to cause.

~*~*~

It was the day before my transformation was to occur. Minerva had begun creating my Wolfsbane for me in Severus' absence. While she wasn't really a potion-brewer by trade, Severus had kept very detailed notes of the process and she'd compared them with the St. Mungo's version. She'd figured out what ingredients Severus was using to create the bitter taste in his Wolfsbane; it was a minor thing to substitute the berries and dash of Bombay Sapphire gin. Minerva's Wolfsbane was even more pleasant than the St. Mungo's version and seemed to be just as efficacious.

"I don't have any more left of this batch, Remus, until I can get in a stock of the sloe plant next week. So please don't spill this goblet." She looked at me over her spectacles. "Drink that right away, please."

I was right in the middle of a complex feeding cycle for some new beasts I'd taken custody of for Hagrid while he was on holiday. You had to crush their food just so, and feed it in a certain sequence, or they'd all shrivel and die. Cute little things; I'd forgotten the name of them in my distraction over Severus, but I had the notes in front of me. "I will," I said distractedly as she left.

I chatted animatedly to Severus, sitting in a chair by my side in my quarters, staring unblinkingly at the little red and black creatures in the tank as I fed them elderberry mixed with crushed robin's eggshell. After I was done feeding the creatures I turned to my silent companion, the goblet of Wolfsbane forgotten in my natter about uses for the elderberries I still had when I noticed something peculiar.

He was staring; perhaps not so much in my direction as through me. There was something in his eye - not the glimmer I'd hoped for, but some emotion was there. The moment passed too quickly; he slumped forward again, perspiring with the effort he had exerted. I sighed, putting his arm over my shoulder, and carried him over to my bed for rest. I grabbed a cool cloth and began to wet down his forehead, wiping away the perspiration and looking into his eyes again for a tiny bit of hope.

It all happened so fast. In one moment, I was gently wiping his brow. In the next, I was pinned beneath him in a surprisingly strong grasp, a feral growl escaping from his throat as he held me captive with his knee perilously close to my groin and both of his hands on my upper arms, holding me down. "How dare you," he sneered, as my initial surprise turned to cautious optimism. This sounded like Severus Snape. "How dare you free me when all I wanted was to die there. You fucking prick. I hate you."

I was wounded. I didn't want to hear those words. I wanted something else. I'd grown to care for him, whether through obsession or love I could not say, but I needed to see his tender side again. I'd seen it once, after something horrible had happened to me. Now that something terrible had happened to him, I just wanted to repay the favor and he was slapping me down. I shouldn't have expected much more, I suppose.

"Welcome back," I said softly.

"Fuck you," Severus said sullenly. "Give me a wand and let me kill myself, and make it quick. I don't want to be here any longer, suffering through your ministrations. You sick perverted fuck. I can see the lust in your eyes; don't deny it. You want to fuck a comatose man."

"I don't want to fuck anyone," I said, very aware of his breath on my skin and his hands on me; I wondered, briefly, if I meant what I had just said. "You were innocent and it is my duty..."

"Duty," he sneered, "let me assure you your duty to me is to let me die in peace. Why didn't you understand that and let me be? Always nosing in where you were not wanted. That's what nearly got you killed, wasn't it? Following me. Do you remember why you were there?" His voice was at its most dangerous, seductive, and he had not let me go. I tested his grip and was rewarded by a tightening of his hands on my wrists, to the point where I wondered if they might break.

The odd thing was that I didn't have any recollection of why I'd been there. Bill and Hermione hadn't brought it up; we'd been so concerned with remembering Severus' part in the incident that it only now entered my consciousness that there was more that had not been replayed for me. Much more, from the looks of things. I was torn by sudden indecision; he clearly didn't want me to remember, but I needed to know why he'd had to save me.

"Will you tell me?" I said, as calmly as possible under the circumstances. It was the wrong thing to do; my attempt at calm was met with anger and coldness. He released me, standing on his own for the first time since his incarceration, and turned away from me.

"Leave me, Lupin, and never return. Do you understand? I do not want to see your face ever again." He was giving me an out. I could hear the frigid fear and anger in his tone, but I wouldn't budge. I couldn't leave him, not even if I'd wanted to.

"Do you hate me so much, Severus? What have I done to you to deserve such anger?"

He wheeled on me. "You didn't let me die in Azkaban. Why do you think I did not speak in my defense? You should have let me die. Now get out. I can't stand the sight of you."

~*~*~

Suddenly, the memory of that night came flooding back to me. The memory charm he'd used had, apparently, been so weakened by Hermione's work that the rest of the story came out in a torrent of both excitement and shame. I knew why I'd followed him. I had tried to seduce him. Gods, how could I not have remembered?

He hadn't wanted me to. He hadn't wanted me to remember what he had said before fleeing into the forest.

You are a werewolf, Lupin. It is that simple. You'd as soon kill me as care for me. I can't live like that.

Do you want me, Severus? Do you?

A lifetime spent in agony and shame, because the man I wanted would have killed me in cold blood. You know...this is pointless. Leave me alone, Lupin, do not speak of this again to me. We are naught but poison to each other. Goodbye.

I hadn't been able to keep myself in check, of course. I had reached out to him, pulling him close, and he'd been unable to resist me even though I knew he wanted to. He was right about many things, but a wolf does not murder his mate in cold blood. I would prove to him how wrong he was...

He had returned my kiss, gentle but building quickly to the intense passion that can only result from long-held desire, and ours had been in constant suppression for nearly thirty years. I ached for his touch and he gave it, pulling me close enough that I could smell his scent and caress the body that had always been close, yet untouchable.

Then he broke away, wiping his mouth and staring at me in his trademark look of hauteur and disgust. "Do not touch me again, Lupin. Ever." He had turned and stalked off into the rapidly darkening Forbidden Forest. I was bereft, of course - so close, and yet so very far away from the dark enigma that was Severus Snape.

~*~*~

I looked at him again, seeing him again the way I remembered him now from that fateful night. "What did you do to me in the forest, Severus?"

For the first time, I saw shame in his eyes. "Lupin, I told you that I wish to die. Is that so difficult for an intelligent man as yourself to understand?"

"I won't buy what you're selling, Severus, I know what happened. The only thing I cannot recall is why Crabbe attacked me."

The scent of sloe gin fizz was strong, pricking at the edge of my consciousness with urgency. If I did not take the potion very soon, I would transform without benefit of its calming properties. The danger would be extreme, for both Severus and myself.

"I've warned you enough times, Lupin. You have no idea what it is like to be me. You never will. Death would be a mercy. If you truly cared, you'd see that."

I was growing quite angry. "For God's sake, man, you have no right to spew how difficult your bloody life is. What do you think mine is like? What do you think it's like to be in love and to be shoved away from the only thing you've ever wanted because you frighten and repulse him?"

"You're on dangerous ground, Lupin." I could see his ire was reaching a peak, but mine was rapidly catching up. All thoughts of the smoking goblet on the table were gone.

"We're all on dangerous ground, Snape," I said, dropping his given name since he hadn't given me the courtesy of calling me by mine. "These are difficult times, especially for dangerous creatures and double agents, eh? Why did you save me out there if you hate the very sight of me so much?"

"I can see that my effort was wasted," he spat, circling me.

"I refuse to believe you are such a horrible man that you aren't worthy of love," I said, watching him circle.

"You want my love?" he sneered. "You're pathetic."

"No, you are," I said as evenly as possible given my growing wolf-like rage. The moon was beginning to rise and certainly affecting my judgment, but I was oblivious to the fact. "You won't take that which is freely given because you're a coward. A fucking bloody coward who likes to think he's above the mundane, but you aren't. Even now I see that you want me, that you want to strip off every last shred of my clothing and claim my body for your own."

"That sounds like your department, you filthy fucking pervert," he shot back, edging ever closer to me, "I know who was fondling my cock under the guise of cleaning it the last few weeks. The only piece of ass you can get is a comatose one. Nice."

"The only piece of ass you can get are Lucius' leftovers at your bloody gatherings, so I wouldn't shoot too many darts."

The magic words had been said. He flew at me, crushing me against his body in a parody of an embrace, before shoving me roughly to the floor. "You want me? Maybe you liked what Crabbe did, eh? You want to find out what a Dark Gathering is like? By all means..."

His hands bruised my hips as he shoved me further down on the floor. Deep in my subconscious a voice insisted that he didn't know what he was doing; that he was disturbed mentally from Azkaban, that he was simply angry and fearful. A voice closer to the surface reminded me that I didn't deserve another rape, no matter who it was. I knew he was aroused; the evidence was even now pressing against my back as he pinned me flat on my stomach with both arms in one hand. With his free hand, he began fumbling in my robes.

I should mention that my body is often quite weak right before a transformation. My mind is generally quite active, as it prepares to make its monthly transition, but my body's weakest points are before taking on the form of the wolf, and directly after I become human again. It takes quite a lot of energy to make the transition. The Wolfsbane helps with taming my lupine spirit, but unfortunately there is no salve for the body. I was fairly helpless as Snape drove his knee into the small of my back.

Suddenly, his fumbling efforts stopped. I was surprised. He hadn't let go, but I could feel him lean towards me; I could smell his breath as he shifted his body closer to mine. He now covered my entire body with his, still holding my arms in one hand and hooking my legs with a surprisingly strong move of his calf and thigh. A shiver of odd anticipation coursed through me. Perhaps he was right about me. Perhaps I was a sick fuck who would take his pleasure any way he could get it, though I failed to understand how sex of dubious consent fit into my real life. Fortunately for the both of us, though I didn't see it this way at the time, I was becoming wolf-like in my reactions to him and my thoughts of him. I saw him as a potential mate, and while I was in an unusually submissive state for the male wolf, I was willing to bear the scenario out.

I wasn't prepared for his next move.

"Legilimens," he hissed somewhere above my left shoulder, now brandishing my wand. "I will show you what torment my life is, and you will never, ever question me again, Lupin.”

Of course I was a Defense Against the Dark Arts instructor and I knew, in theory, what he was doing. However, I'd had very little reason to take any Occlumency training, and as such, I was unprepared for a forced journey into both my own thoughts and his. I felt his coldness enter my mind, seeking out my soul to bring me into his existence. It was a curious sort of intimacy that under normal circumstances might have been quite an exquisite experience. However, the formerly comatose Severus Snape had not counted on the simple fact that I was halfway through a transformation and that he would not be dealing with the rational, human, relatively submissive Remus Lupin. I began to have a sudden hallucination - as if I had been pulled out of a chamber - a light, maple room with nice green tapestries and soft chairs but with large chains built into the walls, actually - into a hallway. Snape was there, mocking me, standing outside his own chamber. I couldn't see inside his, though I felt as if I needed to see it. Perhaps that was what he had meant by the spell. I resisted him then, attempting to throw myself back into my own chamber and chain myself to the wall before he could gain access to me and force me to see what I so desperately craved.

In his surprise at my mental reaction to his Legilimency, he jerked back against the table, and with a sickening thud the goblet containing the Wolfsbane fell off the table and spilled onto the granite floor and the hearthrug. For a moment, I came to myself and realized the loss. "No," I said, "oh, no, goddamn you Snape. Goddamn you."

Perhaps it was the momentary distraction for Severus from the spell, or perhaps it was my half-lupine state. I cannot say. However, I felt myself join hands with him in the vision. He shook his head at me almost apologetically in our dreamlike state, and then walked on by into my chamber, closing the door. I didn't know whether to run after him or let myself enter his room. Finally after a moment of indecision, I went towards his room and closed the door. I couldn't see anything at first, but then I opened my eyes.

And found myself holding - myself - my flesh, my body, was below me.

I looked at my hands, and realized that somehow the spell had gone wrong. Rather than seeing Snape's thoughts, my consciousness had walked into Snape's body - his scarred, long fingers reacted now to my sensory input. I immediately let him go and stood, looking down at myself on the floor. Blood trickled from one side of my mouth, there were bruises on my forehead and wrists, and I had yet to open my eyes.

In the shock and horror of what had happened, I realized that we had only maybe an hour before my body would transform into a feral, vicious wolf. There was no time to waste; I picked up my body and sprinted as quickly as Snape's underused legs could carry me to the Whomping Willow. Just in time, I was able to get him to the Shrieking Shack. Now came the difficult decision.

Assuming that Snape and I had become the victims of a Legilimens spell gone awry, he would soon be waking up in the body of the wolf. While I had much experience with this - especially before the invention of the Wolfsbane potion - he had none at all. There were no chains here to hold him and I knew there was no Wolfsbane to give to him. Furthermore, I would not be able to stay here, or his body would surely be bitten and both of us would be captive to the whims of the moon.

"Severus," I whispered hoarsely. It was very strange to hear his voice when I spoke, but I had to put that aside for now. "Severus!" I slapped my face, and I watched my eyes open. They were already in a golden, wolfish state. I can't express how awful it was to think that somehow he would have to go through my pain alone and tortured in this place.

"What..." he looked at the arms he now had, "what did you do? You bastard."

I scoffed, which was probably quite effective given the face and body I now had. "You're the bastard here. You cast a Legilimens an hour before the full moon and destroyed the only Wolfsbane in the castle in the process. Clever, but I'm sure this is not what you intended. Nevertheless, I don't see any way out of this. There are only a few minutes left before you become a wolf and I am in danger. You will have to stay here."

"I didn't intend..."

"Just shut up," I said, feeling very Snapish, especially with the joint and muscle pain the man was living with that now belonged to me. "You got your wish. I will find out exactly what it's like to be you - for several days, it seems. But the bonus for you is that in all of your self-centered pity, you will find out what real hell is like. I will come back for you in three days, Severus, and I hope you will have learned that perhaps your life wasn't quite as horrid as you'd thought." I turned, enjoying the swish of his robes, and walked away. Somewhere behind me a few minutes later, my body transformed into a wolf, and Snape was transformed into a snarling mass of bones and fur.

Serves the bastard right for what he did, I thought to myself.

You're wrong, my inner voice said immediately, and I knew the second voice was right. I would worry and worry and worry some more until the next few days had passed. I never wanted anyone to have to bear my awful burden, and now the one person I cared about more than anyone - despite his violent, childish reaction to me just an hour ago - would have to know what it was like to be me.

~*~*~

It was rather easy to play the role of Snape because as far as anyone knew, I was comatose in the quarters of Professor Lupin. I'd arranged for a lovely young house-elf named Lemmie to take care of Snape while I was indisposed for my monthly cycle, so Lemmie had to be sworn to secrecy about the fact that Professor Snape was not comatose and Professor Lupin was not to be found, and given things to do so she would appear to be busy with Snape care. It was while I was trying to think of useful things to do with Lemmie's time that the idea came to me.

"Lemmie," I said conversationally, "do werewolves ever attack house elves?"

"Oh, no no, sir," she said, looking as though I might hit her at any second. Rumour was that she was a former Parkinson house elf that had been given clothes for teenage insubordination, so I suppose the reaction was probably understandable. "House-elves are tough and stringy and hard-to-catch." She covered her eyes with her little hands. "Is Master Snape needing someone to look after Master Lupin?"

"Why, yes, Lemmie, if you are comfortable with checking in on him. He is in the Shrieking Shack - do you know where that is?"

"Yes," she said, shuddering with fear.

"It's quite all right, Lemmie. I'd go with you if I thought I would be safe."

"You would be," she said thoughtfully. "I can bind you to me, I can, Master Snape."

"And..." before I could complete the thought, she nodded.

"Where I goes, Master Snape, you goes too. And I can bring you right back to this room without a hair on your head harmed, I can."

It still seemed like a risk, but in my guilt-riddled state, I felt I should look in on him. Lemmie touched my hand, and we were off. In the next breath, I was looking at a sleeping white wolf. Myself. My body. There was blood everywhere and the meagre furniture we'd left at the house for Sirius when he'd used it was overturned and broken.

"Oh!" Lemmie said. "Oh, oh. Poor Master Lupin!"

Yes, indeed. The guilt was eating at me now, even though I suppose this wasn't at all my fault. The first night had gone quite badly from all appearances. I was besieged with memories of childhood transformations, including one where I'd gotten a leg free of the shackles and had nearly chewed my foot clean off. There weren't even any shackles in this place to prevent Severus from mauling himself, as I was now seeing.

"Lemmie," I whispered, "I'm going to try using a binding spell on him, but I don't know how effective it will be. Any ideas?"

She shook her head at first, but then appeared to think of something. "Master Snape, I could help."

"Whatever it takes."

By the time Severus woke up, Lemmie and I had attempted our own brands of magical binding on Severus to attempt to keep him from hurting himself. I had to laugh at Lemmie's idea, but it made perfect sense. She had taken a piece of Formica from one of the Muggle tables we'd lugged into the shack several years before - we'd not wanted to buy anything at Wizarding shops, so I'd bought things at Muggle car boots to outfit the shack for Sirius' and my stays during Harry's fourth year. She had transformed the Formica into a crude collar of the type that Muggle animal healers used to keep dogs from biting at stitches or broken leg casts. I was terribly impressed, and told Lemmie so in the most Snapish way I could muster.

"I will not speak ill of my former master," was all she said, but I could deduce that she might have had to tend to a kicked or hurt animal a time or two at the Parkinsons'. John Parkinson was well known as a thug in my day, and I couldn't see how that might have improved over the years.

Along with my Binding spell, we hoped that we could prevent any more self-mutilation with her device. I had healed the wounds as best I could with limited knowledge of how healing charms worked on animals.

The next day, we visited Severus with great anticipation, and got several growls and snaps for our trouble. The Binding charm seemed to still be holding and there were no further injuries. The next day was much the same other than he'd managed to break free of the charm; however, Lemmie's solution had prevented him from hurting himself, though most of the rest of the room was quite the worse for wear.

That night, I thought a lot about what had prompted Severus to attack me so viciously. He claimed he wanted to die. He told me that whatever he was holding inside was so horrible that I would run away and leave. I refused to believe this claptrap, of course, but my curiosity was getting the better of me. I asked Lemmie if she could take me to "my" quarters using her ability to Apparate within Hogwarts, as I didn't want to be seen in the halls since I was still technically out of commission. She was able to take me there, and quietly disappeared after nodding to me once.

I began methodically looking through Snape's personal effects, feeling only the slightest bit of remorse and pause when I came across what I had been searching for. It was his Pensieve. I knew that in his moments of self-flagellation that he put his worst memories in this Pensieve, because Harry had explained a bit about it in our conversations about the Occlumency lessons he had been forced to endure.

After several hours of gripping review of Severus' myriad personal demons, I was forced to conclude that as difficult as my own life had been, it didn't approach the hardness of the life Severus had lived. His parents were nightmarish caricatures of real people: a brutish, cruel father and an ineffectual mother who refused to protect her small son. The moments of despair in Slytherin House were so violent I had to look away, but little compared with having to relive how awful my friends had been to him. There was a moment stored in the Pensieve that made me so physically ill that I nearly had to exit to retch - it was a spring day I'd forgotten, when Sirius and James had tormented Severus in front of Lily, and I had simply sat and stared and did nothing as they turned him upside down to display his dingy underpants to the entire school. Knowing the horror of his childhood and looking back on my actions now that I could see through the lens of adulthood, I could only cringe at how terrible we had been to him. He had known no peace - ever, if this Pensieve was to be believed. After he left Hogwarts, he took the Mark, which only resulted in more torture and difficulty. I could see a boy who had known no love searching desperately for anyone who would grant him acceptance. He found that acceptance within the ranks of Voldemort's supporters, but it came with a terrible price.

Now in tears, I observed the death of James and Lily Potter from his vantage point. No wonder he hadn't wanted Harry to see this. After Voldemort had been vanquished, Snape had found Sirius Black and with great distaste, had explained to him what had happened. A later memory, though it couldn't have been much later, Snape turned himself over to Dumbledore with an angry stare, daring him to sentence him to Azkaban. When Dumbledore denied him, one could see the air go out of him like a balloon. He'd wanted to be punished, and had been rebuffed. He hated Dumbledore; that much was certain from what I could tell. Dumbledore represented something he desperately wanted in his subconscious but could never, ever admit he needed: a loving, accepting human being.

No wonder he hated me so much, too. I was in the Pensieve, also: a mix of memories about me, as personal and difficult to see as diary entries. He had seen me swimming on the lake and had watched me, fascinated, for an hour. The same year, he outed me as a werewolf to punish me for my role in his humiliation in the Shrieking Shack incident. There were other visions, each more haunting than the next for me. He loved me, as much as he could. There was no doubt in my mind given the intensity of the memories, but the fact remained that the man was unfamiliar with what love meant, as those who were meant to care about him had always tormented and hurt him. It was really that simple.

I was a crazy mix of emotions when I summoned Lemmie to take me back to my rooms. I had no idea where to begin, or where it would all end, but I knew I would have to confront him with the Pensieve's contents when all was said and done. He would have to know that his Legilimens spell worked, even if it didn't work in precisely the way he had intended.

On the following day I prepared to go to the Shack and release Severus from the bindings and figure out how to get us back into our bodies again. Lemmie transported us again. He lay on the floor, fully back to human form with his eyes staring blankly at the ceiling. For a frightening moment, I thought he was dead. Then I heard him exhale. I nodded to Lemmie, who evaporated. I wasn't sure I was safe, necessarily, but at least Severus' body would not be in danger of being hurt by the werewolf.

"Severus?" I whispered. He didn't look at me. I suppose I wasn't surprised; I'd have been more surprised if he'd acknowledged me in any way after what I knew he'd been through. I raised my wand, releasing him from the bindings and cutting away his Formica collar. He sat up, rubbing his neck, and I cast a healing charm on a few wounds that were probably caused by the collar being slightly too tight for my body's neck.

"Severus, do you think we can exchange bodies now? I know how to deal with the exhaustion you must be feeling, and I've helped your body by creating some potions to use for this arthritis you seem to have. I assume it's an aftereffect of some dark hex I'm not privy to, but..."

"I'd thank you not to mess with my body, Lupin, I like it just the way it is." He was trying his best to sound angry, but in my voice it was a hollow sound. He was exhausted, of course. The body would be for about a week.

"Well," I said as lightly as possible, "that will teach you to perform that type of spell on a werewolf again, won't it?"

He closed his eyes, and surprised me by beckoning me closer. I was wary, of course. The last time he touched me he had attacked me - the bruises had yet to heal on my body, I realized. However, I couldn't ignore his summons. I crouched down next to him.

"Oh, sit down, Lupin, I won't bite," he said wryly. For a moment I was stunned. Then I began to laugh, which was an odd sound indeed coming from Severus' throat and chest. I wondered how many times he'd had the occasion to laugh.

"What's so funny?" he growled. "I'm too bloody exhausted after what you put me through to attack you."

I stopped laughing almost instantly. "What I put you through? You bastard."

"Yes," he said, "Yes, I am."

We sat in silence for a moment. He closed his eyes, leaning his head against the wall. "How do you stand it, Lupin? How can you do this month after month after month, year after year?"

"I don't have a choice," I said automatically. "And you've helped me a great deal, Severus. The Wolfsbane was your invention, your doing. It makes me docile and makes the days tolerable. Even if you do muck it up with noxious ingredients."

He nodded, and the silence stretched out again. As I was contemplating how to break it, he coughed. "I've fantasized about being inside you, you know. Just not like this."

I must have looked as shocked as I felt. "As long as we are now clear on how I've failed you and hurt you and done and said things I shouldn't have. I don't know any other way to be, I'm afraid."

He sounded so forlorn that I risked everything by reaching out for him. I touched his shoulder lightly. He actually leaned into my touch somewhat, which seemed perfectly natural until I realized that I was touching my own shoulder and I was in his body and this was not happening. Not at all. "Severus, while I'd like to discuss any possible future relationship with you very much - and I'm assuming there might be a chance at it, when all has been said and done - don't you think we should try and repair this..." I indicated his body, then mine, "state of affairs? I confess I would feel slightly more comfortable if I were looking at you, rather than myself."

He looked at me, and I almost saw a grin. "I'm certain it can be repaired, though I'm not sure how it happened in the first place."

"You were a git," I said.

"True. I'll need your wand."

Panic set in. After the last time he had my wand, I was quite leery of giving over control. "Isn't there something I can do?"

"Scared of me, Lupin?"

"No, I..."

"Liar. You should be. You have no idea what I'm capable of, none at all." He was trying valiantly to sneer, but I had the market cornered on that so I did it for him. "Fuck you."

"You wish."

"We'll see." I handed my wand to him rather reluctantly. "Close your eyes, Remus."

I only had a second to contemplate the use of my first name before I found myself once again in the hallway in my mind, peeking out the door of the dark room. I saw him exit my room; I could see the dangling chains and the sensible sofa behind him.

"What are the chains?" he asked.

"I'm not sure, but if I had to decide now, I'd say they were the bondage of my curse."

Snape snorted. "I've used Legilimency before, but have never had quite this effect."

I shrugged. "Shall we?"

Dream-Severus took my hands, and we passed each other again. Only this time, he didn't let go. He pulled me close, and for a moment I saw tears in his eyes.

"I'm sorry," he said.

"Will you say that when we are back to ourselves?"

He snorted. "You know me better than that, I hope. Here, we are not a part of our bodies, and we are alone and only vulnerable to each other. The baggage is not with us."

"Speaking of baggage..."

Severus squeezed his eyes shut, and grasped my hands tighter. "It's all right, Lupin. It is what I wanted you to do."

"See your Pensieve? That was the worst intrusion of privacy I've ever..."

"I wanted you to know me, or I wouldn't have ever gone this far. It didn't work out exactly as I'd expected and the memories you saw are not the ones I would have chosen. That's why they were in that Pensieve for safekeeping. But I trust you understand."

"I wish I didn't, in some ways, because it makes your past more real."

"I wish I hadn't gone through a transformation, but it makes you more real. I think I needed it. You know my barriers, and I know yours, and I don't think either of us is as frightened."

"I wasn't frightened of you," I said more confidently than I felt.

"Weren't you? You still don't remember why Crabbe attacked you, do you?"

I looked down at my hands clasped in his. "No."

"I was sent to kill him by the Dark Lord. You walked in on the scene because you were following me. You were worried, but terrified at the same time. Minerva had asked you to keep tabs on me that night, a task you seemed willing to accept. I had no compunction about killing Crabbe. He was a useless, violent sort. I don't know what he'd done to displease Voldemort, but it was my pleasure to dispatch him."

I shuddered. He waited until I was calm, and continued.

"You prevented me from killing him, and he turned on you and took you when he saw that there was something between us. He bound me and raped you right in front of me. It shredded me inside. A house-elf unbound me – I might have mentioned that I get on well with house-elves of my enemies, which can be useful - and I was finally able to get to you, after throwing a few choice hexes his way. An Auror found him on the floor, and caught me holding you just after I had put a memory charm on you to protect you from what you had witnessed and gone through."

"Why did you not tell them the truth?"

"I wanted to die rather than acknowledge my feelings for you. Love is dangerous, Lupin. Is that so insane?"

"It may be dangerous but to me, it's worth it to live with the danger rather than lose you."

"Perhaps."

We were still not in our own bodies, but I reached out and kissed him very softly. He seemed surprised, but returned the kiss. He stepped back towards his room and smirked before disappearing and shutting the door firmly. When I got to my own chamber, I awoke to see him seated next to me, staring into space. I looked down at my hands. They were my own again, and I was dreadfully exhausted.

"I got the better of this deal," was his only comment. "You will have to give me the formula for the pain relief potion you were using."

"What happens now?" I said, turning his chin towards me with a firm hand and looking into the eyes that I had looked out of only moments before. They seemed somewhat less hard than they'd been earlier when they looked at me. The anger and fire were gone, which probably unnerved me more than any other thing that had happened.

He sighed. "I need to return to the castle and so do you, Remus."

I led the way back without asking him any more questions. I was too tired to contemplate the future just yet.

~*~*~

It was a number of days before I could get out of bed. It had been a few years since I'd had to transform without benefit of the Wolfsbane, and my body had forgotten the stress and anger of the unfettered wolf. I was disappointed, but perhaps not overly surprised, that Severus did not come to see me. I knew he'd been to Minerva, because she'd come bustling in with concern mixed with anger over what had happened. I took my licks like an adult and made her promise not to punish Lemmie for not telling her about the Shrieking Shack. I managed to refrain from asking her about Severus; I'd give him whatever dignity and space he needed. I knew he would not welcome intrusion into whatever his private thoughts were on the matter of our shared experience until he was damn good and ready. I wasn't naive enough to reckon that he'd had a complete personality change as the result of his time in the Shrieking Shack.

After two weeks of silence, though, I finally had enough. I summoned Lemmie, because I was a coward, and begged her to find a reason to visit him and just tell me if he was well. After a few hours, she appeared and slyly told me that she had traded with Dobby, who normally cleaned Severus' rooms.

"He sits in his chair, staring out at the lake."

"That's it?"

"He never moved, Master Lupin."

After a couple of days of this, I asked her to do something to annoy him and see if it would cause him to yell at her. I apologized in advance, but she agreed that it would be worth it. I could see that she had concern for him, which was rather touching. She finally confessed that he had been quite kind to her the few times he had been out at the Parkinson’s. I was surprised at that, but I probably shouldn't have been. He was a professional terror with his students, but I had never seen him treat a magical creature with anything but temperance and respect. He was a complicated man.

She appeared at dinnertime with the news that she had broken one of his older Sneakoscopes. "He just sat there!" she fumed. "Master Lupin, he just sits and stares! You have to help him!"

I was at a loss. I had hoped that once we had our talk in the corridors of our minds that he would come around in time. However, it was getting on towards another full moon and he hadn't budged. Perhaps I was going to have to make the first move, and if it were rebuffed, I would retreat in peace knowing I had tried.

I had to enlist Minerva's help. She had brewed a large batch of the Wolfsbane. I went to her and asked her to keep it well cloaked until I'd had a chance to speak to Severus.

"Why?" she said, eyes narrowing as she looked at me. "Why on earth would you want him to make a batch for you? You complained about the taste of his and you love mine! I take great pains to..."

"Minerva!" I exclaimed, "I love what you create for me. But he sits there, alone and he needs something to do. I need something..."

"You're in love with him."

I nodded, stunned.

"I won't tell him it's made. Go on." She turned toward her desk, effectively dismissing me. I didn't see her watch me go, sadly shaking her head.

~*~*~

After three knocks on his door, each more insistent than the other, I finally tried to open it. I was stunned when I realized it wasn't even locked or warded.

"Severus?" I called softly.

No answer.

I went into his study, where Lemmie told me he always sat, staring out at the lake. He wasn't there. Alarmed, I called his name again, searching through his rooms. I found him huddled in his bed. "Severus," I cried, touching him. He was warm and breathing. I tried to calm myself. For a minute, I thought he might have succeeded in his great plan to die after all.

"Don't look so disappointed, Lupin," he said. "I'm still here, despite all efforts to bore myself to death. Don't think I didn't see through the ruse with the house-elf."

"You fucking bastard," I said, tears forming in my eyes. "You fucking utter son-of-a-bitch. You knew I would go out of my mind with worry. What the bloody hell is wrong with you?"

He turned over, looking at me as if he'd never seen me before. His eyes were greedy, and darker than I'd ever seen. "I've made a decision about my life. Do you want to hear it?"

I was in full-on diva rant mode. "I most certainly do not give a flying fuck what the hell you are going to do with your bloody life! You make me sweat and make me worry and you fucking know I'm going insane! I was going to ask you to make my goddamned Wolfsbane but I can't see you getting off your fucking arse to do a goddamned thing for me. Why the hell did I care?"

I missed the look of amusement. He sat up, crossing his arms firmly in front of his chest, and watched me pace. For a moment, I was uncomfortably aware that he was naked, though the bedclothes covered his legs and groin. I knew that body well, of course. I'd run his hands all over it at one point, memorizing every line, every scar, every hair. I'd stood in the shower, touching his cock, lightly running his fingers all over his scrotum until I had been undone and had to pump my fist over his cock until it exploded. It had been quite autoerotic masturbating his cock while visualizing caressing that lovely pale arse as my mouth moved over every inch of his balls and penis. I knew everything about his body, now, though I'd been hesitant to even let it come to mind after I'd been returned to my own. Now, the image of my hand stimulating him as I watched myself in his bathroom mirror came to mind, very much unwanted since I was on a tirade and determined to finish it.

"So," he said, "you don't want to hear my thoughts? How childish, Lupin."

"Childish!" I ranted, "How dare you. How dare you mock me when I have told you everything, have placed my soul in your hands and have given you a one-way ticket out of your little petty existence? And you admitted it! You admitted you wanted to be inside me, damn you, that sounded like an admission of interest and then you leave me to wonder and fume and..."

"Oh, do shut up, Lupin," Severus said with a flick of his wand. Suddenly, I was talking but no words were coming out.

"That's much better."

Blind anger overtook me as I flung myself at him, attempting to pin him to the bed and pummel his ugly nose into his fat head. I was so angry that I was screaming, though of course it was completely silent.

Lemmie had either missed or not reported to me that Severus had been working out. His muscle tone was much improved over the version I had inhabited, because he managed to catch me off-guard in my anger and flip me over so that I was under him. He was, much to my chagrin, completely naked and grinning a most devilish grin. I was almost disarmed by the smile, but I caught myself in time to keep righteous and petty anger on my side.

"If I let you speak, Remus, will you shut the fuck up and listen to what I have to say?"

I shook my head. He smirked and used his wand to bind my arms to the bed. I was rapidly losing interest in my anger in favor of a new emotion: anticipation and excitement.

"You've been quite naughty," he said, binding my feet and standing up, allowing me to see him fully. It was quite strange. I'd seen it all before - touched every part of that body before - but it was quite different knowing that he was in charge of that body, and I was completely and utterly helpless. I couldn't move and couldn't speak. But the fear I'd felt before in a similar situation was gone.

"You were right, Remus Lupin," he continued, walking around the bed. He seated himself comfortably, though he didn't bother covering up the erection he had. I wanted to look away, but I found that I couldn't stop watching him move and speak. It was as if a long-held fantasy was made flesh. "You were right. I've been stubborn about this for many years, and I think rightly so considering...everything. I haven't let anyone get close. Even if they'd wanted to," he said with a derisive laugh, "and I can't think of too many that have. I'm not exactly the easiest person to know and love, I grant."

I snorted, though the effect was lost due to my enforced silence. His eyebrow rose, and he continued.

"I've been thinking about what you said about how it would be better to take the risk. For years I've been more than willing to take risks with my own life, but I drew the line at risking others. I used to despise Dumbledore for what he allowed with Potter. Both Potters, actually.I think they were both in great jeopardy because of Dumbledore's actions. I've come to realize that I was too, and I think he knew he had to use us all for the greater good. Fine. It got him killed in the end, which was a great loss. At the time I considered him an old fool, but I think there is a cost that has to be paid for greater things sometimes."

He looked at me. "My cost has always been forgoing intimate relationships, whether they be friendships with other professors, special students who could benefit from my attention, my Slytherins, or lovers. I've always believed firmly that I could only depend on myself. Is that a belief you share, Lupin?"

I had no idea where this was going. He looked at me. "Finite incantatem. You're free to rail at me, leave, hit me, or do whatever you wish, Lupin. I wanted you to hear me out. That's all."

"That's all?" I said, incredulous. "Do you still believe that? It is not a belief I share, though I can understand the sentiment well. I don't like to admit how I've pushed others away with my fears about hurting them. I haven't shared many intimate friendships, now that you mention it; even as a teenager with those boys you don't like to think about, I can't say I was as close as I should have been. I wasn't paying attention to them. I was having fun and not acknowledging how horrid they could be to other people. I understand exactly. So, do you still believe that you are so alone?"

"No," he said with much surprising sincerity. "I believe I can depend on you, no matter what happens."

If my jaw could have dropped off physically it would have, but I did the only thing I could think of. "You really are a bastard. You know that, right?"

"I do," he said, reaching out for my face and cupping my chin in his long fingers. "I do." I couldn't help but melt into his arms as he kissed me. It wasn't the most expert kiss, to be sure, and I had to wonder how many times he'd been in the position he was in. Maybe not very many at all, given his speech and what I knew about his background. It was our second kiss, though perhaps our third if you counted what happened in the halls of our mind, but it was very different in timbre than the other two. There had been a desperation and fear about the first: an unreality and anxiety about the meeting of our minds. This was tentative, as if we were both awakening to the other for the first time. The last thing I'd ever accuse Severus of is a "sweet" kiss. But this might have been the closest thing to tenderness that either of us had shared in our entire lives.

I'm not quite sure how that kiss morphed into two naked humans pleasuring each other in sweat-soaked sheets, bitten lips and nipples and angry welts on tender skin, but I found myself once again exploring the body I'd inhabited. I laughed as I kissed his toes, and he smirked at me. "What the hell is so funny?" he said a bit uncertainly. I knew that intimacy was going to be a bit difficult for both of us, and I cursed myself, but he had to know what I knew.

"Severus," I said, sliding up his body to brush his hair back from his forehead, "I lived in your body for a while. I know it. I know it...I, uh..."

"Show me what you learned," he invited. I knew I was blushing. "I didn't get the chance, you know, since I was a fucking wolf the whole time."

I was right that intimacy of this type would be difficult for me, but if he was going to make the effort, I would too. My blush had to have gone twenty shades deeper as I finally touched his perineum, sliding my hand up onto his balls with hands that were at once inexpert and yet familiar. I knew his left testicle was much larger than his right, and I knew that if I pressed my thumb underneath his scrotal sac just so, he would beg for mercy and release. Yet I'd never actually done this with anyone before; my sexual encounters in the past had been fumbling love-em-and-leave-em affairs with Muggle men, generally, that I'd met in clubs in London. No one in Wizarding Britain would lie down with a known werewolf. They might catch my disease, you know, or so they might claim.

I began to go with my fantasy, running my tongue up and down his shaft lightly before taking as much of the length as I could tolerate into my mouth. He moaned in pleasure as I continued to stroke his balls, licking and sucking until he begged me to stop. "You have to," he breathed, "I will come in your mouth."

With a wicked tongue flick, light pressure to that little spot under his balls, and a well-timed sucking motion, I forced the issue. His eyes flew open as he looked down at me, clearly amazed as I sucked down most of his come and then crawled up his long body to deposit a little inside his own mouth.

"Like that, do you?" I said, feeling inordinately pleased even as my own erection was begging for attention. There would be time for that.

"Remus," he growled, "what have you done to me?"

I looked at my pocket watch, sitting among the clothing scattered on the floor, and laughed. "It's four, Severus. Care for some tea?"

His answer was to pull me into his arms, holding his head carefully where I could not see him. After a moment, I felt his tears on my shoulder. I wasn't confused as to why he was crying. I felt the same, though I hadn't quite had the release he had experienced to put myself over that edge.

"The great git Severus Snape, crying like an infant," he said. "If you ever breathe a word of this to anyone..."

"You needn't worry," I said seriously. "You are safe with me.”