Summary: Severus watches Remus from afar but what happens when he finds Remus alone in the library? Will he be able to hold in his desires?

Pairing: Severus Snape/Remus Lupin

Warnings: Slash, Sexual Behaviour

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any of the characters, it all belongs to JK Rowling. I do not make any profit off of this fic and am only using JK Rowling's creations for a short period of time.

Author's Notes: I finally wrote a Severus/Remus and it makes me terribly happy even if it is tragic...Do review, I adore reviews. Every author in the world adores reviews, so please take a minute and tell me what you thought.

Never Mine

I glanced at him, drinking in all his features. He was delicate, at least to me, as if he we would fall apart the minute I touched him. That's why I only ever glanced.

My hands traced the spine of my book and I continued to "read" it, having been sitting on the very same page for the last hour. The shade from the tree I sat underneath blocked the hot summer sun but I could care less. I sat outside only for him, to watch him, perhaps protect him…

He had his nose stuck in a book, and his insufferable brute of a boyfriend was reading it over his shoulder, every now and then making some stupid comment and forcing him to smack him. I always found myself smirking then, as if his hit was mine.

A soft wind blew, flipping the pages of my book, so that I was a few pages back. It hardly mattered, I was still watching him. I saw him get up, move away from his friend, and sit at the very edge of the shade of the great oak he sat underneath.

Then another one of my enemies came striding in, to sit underneath the immense tree. It was right by the lake; water shimmered in the bright, warm sunlight and reflected the leaves of the tree. He looked up suddenly from his book, smiling at his arriving friend. I felt myself scowl. Of all his friends, I hated this one the most.

He seemed to steal so much from me…I had given up though; she had slipped through my fingers. But him, oh I would never let him go. He was mine and it didn't matter how much Black caressed him and kissed him, he still didn't want him the way I did.

He wanted to be wanted, to be loved and I could give it all to him in a way he could only dream Black would. But, he would never realise my desire for him and I'd be forgotten just like Lily had forgotten me before. Perhaps that was my fate, to be nothing more than a best friend and in his case, the guy they picked on. Nothing more, no, never anything more.

"Sev, I don't think you've made much progress on that book of yours," I heard her voice say to me. It startled me, and I gave a sort of jump on the ground but never quite left it.

"What…what do you mean?"

"Well, you seem to have gone back a few pages," her voice replied, knowingly. I could picture the smirk on her face right now. She had always read me like a book but the chapter she needed to read the most she had skipped, as if it did not exist.

I let out a sigh, "I was watching the lake."

"Sure," she replied, taking a seat next to me. Her startling green eyes met mine and I took in her long red tresses, and tanned skin. A small splatter of freckles danced upon her nose and she smiled at me.

I said nothing in reply, and looked back at him, sitting at the very edge, while his friend and boyfriend wrestled in the grass, groping each other, and screaming out their obvious pleasure through grunts and roars of mock rage. It was disgusting, he was nothing like them. Not at all as animalistic, at least not when he could help it. Nor as aggressive, again only when he could control it.

I ripped my eyes away from him and looked back at Lily who was watching Potter and Black grapple, an amused grin across her face. But I saw something other than amusement in her eyes, a love, a caring I had always desired to be mine.

"I think I love him Sev, and I know you don't like him all that much, but as my best friend I would appreciate it if you could be just a tad happy for me," she smiled, her hands taking a hold of her toes over the tops of her knees.

"I never said I wasn't," I replied, almost immediately. I had long ago accepted that she wasn't mine. She never had been and although my longing still sat in my heart, biting away at me, I had him. He was better, he was like me.

"Oh come on Sev! You hate him so much you tried to talk me out of going out with him!"

"I was only looking out for you," I said, eyes wandering back to my book. The letters on the page seemed foreign, as if they weren't written in English at all. It was as if the only book I wanted to read now was the one in his hands. His slender, long hands.

"I know Sev," she smiled, her voice coming out softly, borderline whisper.

A silence crept on us. We had drifted apart. Our friendship was slipping away, partially because I was having trouble getting over that she had picked Potter over me and partially because her friends were filling her mind with thoughts against me. I could feel that sooner rather than later, something would happen and all those years would mean nothing to her in that single moment. I closed my book, getting up. "I'll see you around Lily."

She nodded, eyes still staring at him. I looked over. He was laughing beside Black, panting for breath on his back. My stomach filled up with a nauseous feeling and I walked away, stealing a final glance at him. He was looking over at his friends of almost seven years, a gentle, amused smile on his face. Black crawled over to him and I looked away before I could see him touch him.

I hated the very thought of anyone but me touching him. No one deserved him, he was special. More special than anyone in the world. I closed my eyes, my feet feeling heavy with some unknown emotion as they led me to the library.

I entered Hogwarts, leaving the warmth and radiance of summer behind me. Windows lining the hall let in blocks of light and I walked through them, barely conscious of where I was going and where my feet were landing. I could see specks of dust float about in them. They danced, fluttering on wind that wasn't there, twirling, and I felt envious. They were freer than I was, able to do what they wanted in their block of light.

I could see the staircase in front of me, and I walked up, the stairs moving off to the left. My annoyance from earlier grew and I felt myself scowl at the moving stairs. I walked onto another set of stairs this time getting off on the floor that led to the library. The large, wooden doors were closed and I opened one slightly, slipping through into the quiet of the library. Ravenclaws lined the table, a few Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs sat here and there, looking very out of place.

I walked past Ms. Pince, she barely noticed me, but gave me her usual scowl. I walked straight to an armchair by a large window. I could read there.

Hours passed as I sat in the comfortable chair, flipping the pages of my book, reading quietly, never looking up. I didn't seem to have absorbed any of the information, and heard myself groan as I sank into the chair a bit more, rubbing my eyes with my right hand. The book lay closed in my lap, and his face shot up in my eyes.

I fluttered open my eyes, glancing out the window. It was dark outside; I guessed that he was at dinner. Black's arm was probably wrapped around his waist and Lily would probably be laughing at one of Potter's jokes. I growled, unable to hold in my anger at what my mind was forming in its' paranoid depths.

He was fragile, afraid of being abandoned and left behind. And so he depended on Black, Black who made it so obvious he wanted Potter. But he let that slide, he pushed it back to the very end of his mind and made himself forget the truth and clung to Black like he was the only one who could ever love him. The worst thing, he would never realise that anyone else could love him, could want him, flaws and all.

But I hardly saw those flaws, those flaws that weren't really there. I could, however, see how much he wanted all of Black's attention. But Black failed to see this because Black was a fool. Not that Black could ever realise how much he wanted him. Black had eyes, and eyes alone for Potter.

My head snapped towards the left as I heard a loud clatter of books falling. He was standing there, eyes wide as he saw the books on the floor. I stared at him, waiting for Ms. Pince to come but she never did. He quickly got down on his knees and gathered up the books. I watched him, picking each one up, neatly piling them up so he could place them back on the shelf.

I suddenly realised that I was no longer in my armchair but rather on my feet, walking over to him. He didn't realise, as if he would…

I bent down, picking up a book to add to his pile. His head shot up, startled to find someone helping him. His eyes were wide as they stared at me and I found myself tracing my eyes over his brown lashes, finally just looking back into his eyes. They started back, now more startled than before at finding me to be the one helping, "Snape?"

I continued looking into his eyes, finally able to break away when I noticed a book lying on the floor beside his knee. I found it amusing that he had forgot a book so close to him but had gathered all those far away from him. I leaned over; he flinched, quickly leaning back. I smiled sadly and grasped the book by his knee. Picking it up, I placed it on his pile. My smile had disappeared; I didn't want him to see it.

"Th-Thank-you," he stuttered, blushing profusely because he had darted away so quickly. My eyes softened and I was positive he could see my pain in them. My longing for him, but if he did see, he showed no indication to this truth.

I remained silent, observing him. He had a scar that started at his low cheek and ran down his neck only to be concealed underneath his robes. The red Gryffindor tie he wore was loose, leaving his shirt's top most button open. The scar disappeared down the shirt's depth and I tore my eyes away, knowing that Black had seen where the scar ended.

"You should be more careful," I whispered, eyes wandering the height of the bookself.

He said nothing in return and we sat there for a few minutes, thoughts running through both of our minds, in silence. I got up, taking a few books in my hands as I did and began placing them on the shelf. He sat on the floor a bit longer before following suit. I could sense his confusion.

And so, time passed and the pile of books grew smaller and soon enough they were all shelved. I placed my last book on the shelf and he his, our hands slide against one another and I felt a shock run down the length of my arm. It was electric, and as it ended at my heart, I felt it quicken.

From the corner of my eyes, I looked at him. He looked confused, unable to comprehend my actions. "Do you love him?"

His confusion grew, "What?"

My eyes found the window I had been sitting at earlier and I asked him the question again. "Do you love him?"

"Who?" he asked.

"Black," I answered, studying the outline of the window's arch at the top.

"…I-you…why are you asking?" he stammered.

I brought my gaze back to him and held him in my eyes, before whispering more to myself than him, "He doesn't love you."

His brow furrowed and he opened his mouth to say something. Nothing came and he shut it. My eyes traced the scar again, wondering when he had gotten it. Wondering if Black had been the one to heal it, wondering if he had enjoyed Black's help, wondering if, maybe, I could trace my finger from the top to the bottom, sending shivers running down his spine.

"What are you talking about?" he finally spluttered.

Our eyes stared at each other's but I said nothing, contemplating where this would lead me. He would never leave Black for me, even if Black hardly appreciated him. I swallowed, eyes never leaving his, but the thoughts running through my mind, how dirty they were.

And before I knew it, my hand reached out and I very delicately placed it upon his scar, softly sliding my finger until it fell off of his face back to my side. His eyes had snapped shut but he hadn't moved, or even flinched. I took a step forward, this time letting the backs of my fingers feel his scar. Wherever I touched him I could feel my skin burn, as if the very contact was a sin. And it was, it was, but I didn't care. I never had. Two fingers remained, tracing over the old wound, softly, down his neck, stopping right where the scar disappeared down his shirt. He took in a sharp intake of breath.

I leaned forward, pressing my lips down on his, eyes closed. My fingers laced into his silky, brown hair and I felt everything blast away. He tasted like apples and cinnamon, slightly spicy and sour with an overwhelming sweetness. I pressed down harder, and I felt my body press against his.

Every touch burned me, screaming in some symphony of pleasure. And I only pressed down harder, sliding my tongue over his moist lips. I felt a hand grasp the front of my robes, clutching the black fabric and he gasped onto my mouth.

I pushed him against the bookshelf beside us, wanting awfully badly to touch every last inch of his body. To make him squeak and moan and beg for more. My tongue slipped into his mouth, and the warmth enveloped it. My hand left his hair, trailing down to his hand and I grasped it, lacing my fingers between his.

I could feel myself slipping, breaking, falling apart as I broke my lips from his and started to kiss and lick his jaw line, making my way to the scar. He left out a raspy breath, sounding so good that I felt my desire multiply. I wanted him more now than ever and I loosened his tie, biting into his neck. He gasped.

I kissed the mark tenderly, unbuttoning his shirt. He was panting, and I felt as if he was going to fall to his knees. He trembled, a moan breaking the silence of the library. I could see the scar run deeper down and as I unbuttoned the last button, I saw the scar end three fingers above his belly button where a nest of his brown hair curled up together.

"Remus..?" I stopped, almost immediately. It was Black and as if his name being called had broken him out of some spell; he pushed me off of him and stumbled away, almost falling over his feet. I felt a blackness wrap around me, consuming me instantly, mocking me. He was never mine, never mine, never mine!

"Co-coming!" he stammered, fumbling with his shirt's buttons. I watched him, feeling emptier than I ever had.

"Remus," I whispered his name on my tongue for the first time that day. "Do you love him?"

He started at me, ceasing all actions. His eyes seemed to be searching something in mine and I let him see everything. There was nothing to hide. I needed him. And only him.

But I never got a reply as Black showed up and gave me a nasty scowl, "Remus, he messing with you?"

"N-no!" he stumbled over the word, only a single button left now. Black grabbed him, as if he was some sort of possession and pulled him close.

"Come on, let's go," he ordered and he obliged as always. They walked off, Black giving me one last vicious look but I hardly paid any attention to that, my eyes watching his back the entire time, never leaving.

I sighed, wistfully, wanting so much for him to come back again, so I could feel my body burst with excitement again, feel it burn with the wanting I had suppressed for him, feel the passion I always saw in my dreams.

"Why…?" I whispered, and I fell to my knees, letting go of every tear I had never shed over the last six and a half years.

--------------------

I had left the library, shaking, trembling and utterly shattered. I had gone too far, he was the only person I had. I had promised not to touch him. Promised to watch him from afar but it had all fallen apart.

Now the halls of Hogwarts held no light from outside as I walked down their empty lengths. Torches lit the way, cascading the grey stones in a flickering orange light that danced just as the dust specks had. This time I felt nothing, no envy, no hurt, just an empty void.

Didn't he see it? Black's possessive personality, his arrogance and control, his utter belief that anything he wanted could be his. Why didn't he?

And the tears threatened to come out again. And I felt myself stagger in the empty hallway, feeling every bit a fool. And as I steadied myself, his scar flashed before my eyes and I cursed, cursed Black and then myself.

He was so precious, so precious but not mine. No, definitely not mine, just like Potter would never be Black's and Black would never be Remus's. It was our wonderful circle of love that wasn't love and lust that was so incredibly strong it blinded us.

The dungeons were colder than they should have been for a summer evening and as I stepped into the common room and then to my dorm, I shivered. Without taking my clothes off, I fell into my bed, not bothering, not caring.

He was afraid of not being loved or wanted, and all of that lost itself when he was with Black, and because of that he never realised that Black was only trying to catch Potter's eyes. But they were caught already, and so I lost everything all over again. And this time I let myself cry, I let myself feel.

Because, he was never mine.