Chapter four: Revert

They were eating dinner one night when Severus' arm burned. It was not the first time this summer he had been called, but the first time since he and L-Remus had become amicable toward one another. Remus had, in fact, never been in Severus' presence when he was summoned. The man let out a sharp gasp and stood abruptly from their table. Remus looked up in confusion before he noticed the mans clenched left hand and tightened muscles.

"I must go," Severus gritted through his teeth.

Remus blinked and stammered. "O-of course, Severus." The man nodded to him and went to get his Death Eater robes. He was at the door when Remus stopped him with a gentle hand. "Be careful, won't you?"

Severus wasn't sure how to react. No one had ever wished him to be careful. Dumbledore only nodded to him on occasion. Anyone else tried to pretend they didn't notice, prancing around the subject of his tainted magic. In the end, he nodded, feeling a warmth from the farewell.

He landed in Malfoy Manor and strode into the throne room, which had been a music room for Lucius' mother, Cordelia. Severus could remember what it used to be, when the Dark Lord was at his peak and did not need to reside here. Abraxas had been a monster, there was no question, but a fool could have seen the love he had for his wife, Cordelia. She was the opposite of Abraxas and Severus himself had been sorry to hear of her passing when they were still young. Well, younger. Severus kneeled before taking his place among the Inner Circle, which tonight meant an actual circle as they crowded a small form- shivering- even though it was a warm summer evening.

Upon taking the empty space he was able to get a look at the form, a young boy with a frail intensity about him that immediately reminded him of a younger version of his temporary house mate. He was looking around with wide, blue eyes, shaking in terror, and Severus was thankful for his mask that kept the others from seeing his disgust and guilt. The boy was to be tonight's entertainment.

"My loyal friends," the Dark Lord spoke in a smooth, gravelly voice. "You see before you, a muggle boy." A few snickered. The man next to him, who Severus could discern as Draco, shook slightly and Severus wished he didn't have to be here. He was just a boy himself. "But this is not just a muggle," he continued, unaware of the Malfoy heir's inner conflict. "No, given time, this muggle would aspire to attend magical schooling. This muggle would have himself called a wizard."

Bellatrix, he could tell it was her from her form and action, spit at the boy in abhorrence. The boy whimpered and hugged his knees to him, expecting the worse, and rightfully so. Curious about a thought that crossed his mind, Severus used his Legilimency while the Dark Lord rambled on. He saw the boy with what looked to be his parents, both of whom had the same blue eyes and his father having the same brown hair. They were shouting at him for climbing a cabinet to get a toy that had been taken, when it was a case of accidental magic. He watched the parents witness this magic, then Severus witnessed the punishment that came after- days without food, bruises, slaps, cursing. He balled his fists and tried to calm himself as the Dark Lord's monologue came to a final close.

The Dark Lord sat back down on his throne, having been circling the circle like a vulture looking for weaknesses, and gestured to the boy with a fluid hand movement. "Enjoy, my friends."

At once curses flew at the muggle boy, who couldn't be more than six, and he cried out against slicing hexes, and the more popular, Cruciatus. The little boy screamed and thrashed and begged each person with his too-wide eyes to stop. The boy next to Severus, his own godson, did nothing more than tremble and send off streams of light that looked like curses. When Bellatrix pulled out her curved, cursed dagger- Severus did the only thing he could have to stop the pain.

"Avada Kedavra" And all the noise of sadistic laughter stopped with the green flash that made the boy stop breathing.

"Severus!" The Dark Lord growled. "What is the meaning of this?"

He turned to face his master and bowed his head respectively, bracing himself for what he had known was to come. "I apologize, my Lord, I was too enthusiastic."

The Dark Lord narrowed his eyes at the unknown spy and said the words Severus had expected. "Then as you have denied your brethren their toy, you shall take its place."

Then, without warning, it started.

*

Remus had stayed up, though slightly unsure why, and was ready to call for Dumbledore when Severus fell through the door and collapsed on to the muddy runner in the front hallway. He was at the man's side in an instant, trying not to notice his blood-soaked clothes. It was no use as he had smelled it before he saw it, the sickly-sweet stench of iron. Severus moaned in pain as Remus rolled him over. His face was bruised and swollen, one eye completely swollen shut, blood smeared on his throat where it looked like someone tried to cut it.

"Severus? Severus!" Remus refrained from shaking the man's shoulder. Instead, he threw Severus' arm around him and stood him up. He half carried, half dragged, the man toward the stairs before thinking better and laying him on the chaise in the sitting room. He Flooed Dumbledore, shouting half mad through the fire.

"Albus! He's hurt!"

The Headmaster came through with a grave face and the Hogwarts nurse with him. Poppy immediately rushed to Severus' side and began her spells. Dumbledore pulled Remus to the side.

"Has he said anything at all?"

"Nothing, he was gone for almost five hours."

There was a guttural scream from the Slytherin, his throat gurgling blood that began to drip out of the corners of his mouth. His body started convulsing and Remus and Dumbledore had to help hold him down before he could hurt himself more. Poppy divested him of his clothes down to his boxers and they could see the cuts that had been made into his skin by hexes, bruises from kicks, burns- there were burns as though someone had tried to set him on fire and something had stopped them.

After Poppy did everything she could until he woke up, Remus levitated him to his room. He had never seen Severus' private chambers, and there wasn't much to see as the walls were bare. There were no pictures like in his aside from one on the bedside. A Muggle photo of Lily and Severus, the girl's grin frozen in place- her long red hair whipping around her face with the wind. He hadn't met Lily that young. He could see why Severus would have fallen in love with her.

He made a groaning noise, his throat still raw, and his black eyes opened. And then the clenched tight. "I killed him," he said softly with a rasp. "I killed that little boy."

"Shh," Remus said. "It will be alright."

"No. You don't understand. They brought him- a Muggleborn child barely in primary school yet. They brought him to torture, but they didn't realize his parents hurt him too. They were all- I killed him." Remus tried to get him to calm down, pushing him back when he tried to sit up.

"He looked like you," was the last thing he whispered before falling back asleep.

"Do you remember that day?" Remus said. Severus looked at the man carefully. "The day you and Lily stopped talking? After- "

"I remember." Severus said sharply.

Remus looked away, his mind going back to it. "I felt awful for weeks after. I always thought Lily should have forgiven you. I even told her that once. She wouldn't look at me for days. We never meant- I never meant to make your life so terrible. I had no one. I was alone and for the first time I had friends. They showed me what life was supposed to be. They showed me loyalty. But that is no excuse for my turning such a blind eye to how they could be. I wish, I wish that perhaps I could have been braver."

Severus said nothing, and it was as if he hadn't heard him, but Remus knew he had. Remus, for no reason he could understand, held Severus' hand and they both stared at where they were joined. Like a door had been opened. And then the spell was broken and Severus left the room.

Neither of them mentioned to the other what had transpired after the meeting. Severus stayed in bed for a week, limped for another three days afterward. On a Friday night, late, two weeks after Severus killed the Muggle boy, Dumbledore showed up weak. He dismissed Remus from the room to be alone with Severus- too drained to notice that he stopped to listen in through the door.

"Severus, my hand. My hand, there's something wrong."

Severus examined his right hand dangled over the side of the chair, blackened and burned. He muttered incantations, pointing his wand at the wrist of the hand, while trying to pour a thick golden potion down Dumbledore's throat. After a moment or two, Dumbledore's eyelids fluttered and opened. Remus flattened himself against the door as best he could, not knowing what was happening- but having a terrible feeling all the same.

"Why," Remus heard Severus demand without giving the old man a moment- watching through a crack, "why did you put on that ring? It carries a curse, surely you realized that. Why even touch it?

A ring lay cracked on the table and Dumbledore grimaced at it. "I, was a fool; a fool sorely tempted."

"Tempted by what?" Severus snarled, but received no answer.

"You have done very well, Severus." Dumbledore said once the dark-haired man stepped away finally. "How long do you think I have?"

Dumbledore's tone was conversational; he might have been asking for one to pass the sugar, and this is what made Remus feel light headed. This was happening. Severus hesitated, not that Remus could blame him, and then said, "I cannot tell. Maybe a year. There is no halting such a spell forever. It will spread eventually, it is the sort of curse that strengthens over time."

Dumbledore smiled. The news that he had less than a year to live seemed a matter of little or no concern to him. With an effort, he straightened himself in his chair. "Well, really, this makes matters much more straightforward." Remus wanted to scream. What were they doing? How were they so calm?

Severus looked both dreading and utterly perplexed. Dumbledore smiled.

"I refer to the plan Lord Voldemort is revolving around me. His plan to have the poor Malfoy boy murder me." Severus bowed his head. "Oh come now, this isn't news to either of us."

"Then why do I feel like you are about to ask something terrible of me?"

"In short, the boy has had a death sentence pronounced upon him as surely as I have," Dumbledore said- ignoring Severus' question. "Now, I should have thought the natural successor to the job, once Draco fails, is yourself?"

There was a short pause. "That, I think, is the Dark Lord's plan."

"Lord Voldemort foresees a moment in the near future when he will not need a spy at Hogwarts?"

"He believes the school will soon be in his grasp, yes. No doubt under a follower of his choosing."

"And if it does fall into his grasp," Dumbledore said, almost, it seemed, as an inevitability, "I have your word that you will do all in your power to protect the students at Hogwarts?"

Severus gave a stiff nod. Remus almost burst through the door again, but thought better of it.

"All the same, try. I am concerned less for myself than for accidental victims of whatever schemes might occur to the boy. Ultimately, of course, there is only one thing to be done if we are to save him from Lord Voldemort's wrath."

Severus raised his eyebrows and his tone was sardonic as he asked, "Are you intending to let him kill you?"

"Certainly not. You must kill me." Remus stopped breathing. He knew the Headmaster asked things of the Slytherin that bordered too much. This was too much.

"Would you like me to do it now?" Severus asked, his voice hoarse in his shock and expecting. "Or would you like a few moments to compose an epitaph?"

"Oh, not quite yet," Dumbledore said smiling. "I daresay the moment will present itself in due course. Given what has happened tonight," he indicated his withered hand, "we can be sure that it will happen within a year."

"If you don't mind dying," Severus asked roughly, "why not let Draco do it?" If Remus didn't know any better, he would think that perhaps the man was trying not to cry. But, Severus Snape didn't cry.

"That boy's soul is not yet so damaged, I would not have it ripped apart on my account."

"And my soul, Dumbledore?" Severus all but shouted in hurt. "What of mine?"

"You have killed before, have you not?" Remus was very nearly sure he hated the man at this moment, but the old man's words hit their mark. "Surely you can to save an old man pain and humiliation. I ask this one great favor of you, Severus, because death is coming for me as surely as the sun rises in the east. I confess I should prefer a quick, painless exit to the protracted and messy affair it will be if, for instance, Greyback is involved – I hear Voldemort has recruited him? Or dear Bellatrix, who likes to play with her food before she eats it." Remus stiffened at the werewolf's name.

His tone was light, but his blue eyes pierced Severus as they had frequently pierced a number of people, as though the soul they discussed was tangible. Remus had never seen the man so manipulative. He knew the right words to say to make others more agreeable. The Potions Master was no different. At last Severus gave another curt nod. Dumbledore seemed satisfied.

"Thank you, Severus…"

*

"I heard what Dumbledore asked of you," Remus said in the library the next day. He'd had an awful time trying to get to sleep the night before and he knew Severus hadn't even gone to his room.

"I know."

Remus looked up at Severus, who was putting a book back on the shelf. "You didn't say anything?"

"Should I have?" The dark-haired man asked. "Do you wish I had so that he might have obliviated you?"

"He wouldn't," Remus said, not believing his own voice.

Severus turned on his heel and stared the wolf down. "Really? Are you quite certain of that?"

Remus' silence was enough of an answer. "You can't really do it."

"I must and I will. I've killed before, doing it again shouldn't make a difference. It will place me back at the Dark Lord's right hand and I will be given Hogwarts as a reward where I can watch out for the students and help Potter."

"And the Order will think you a traitor."

"As intended."

"This is madness!" Remus shouted. "There has to be something else."

Severus glared. "THIS is war, wolf, or hadn't you noticed?" And he left with the slam of a door, leaving Remus behind feeling like he had just been gutted again.

Of course he noticed. His best friends had died for this war. He was likely to die for this war. He could see it now. Severus would kill Dumbledore, then let the guilt eat him until Voldemort killed him as well. Then Remus would die at Harry's side. And Harry, he was likely to join them-hopefully with Voldemort as well. This was war. Sirius had known that. Remus knew that. Severus knew that. Everyone knew, but no one seemed to understand. How do you kill a man? You take away their humanity. That's what this war was doing to them all. To him. Remus walked up the stairs and stopped outside of Severus' room. And knocked.

The door swung open and Severus and Remus stared each other down.

"How can I help?"

"You can't."

"Severus, please. Let me help. I can at the very least help you when the Order hates you."

"No."

Remus pushed Severus into the room and caught the man off guard, making him fall back but grabbing hold of Remus' arm first and pulling him down as well. Remus fell on top of him and looked down at his face, feeling the man's breath against his lips. He had the sudden urge to lean down and press them together, but stopped himself just short of it and stood up quickly.

"I am going to help. And if you refuse my help- I will strike at you in any way I can."

"What's it to be?" Severus asked, breathing semi-heavily. "Hot oil or the rack?

Remus and Severus stared at each other for a long few minutes and then it happened and Severus' lips were on his and they were kissing as if their lives depended on it. Or not lives, as neither of them put too much stock in their futures after the war. Their lives ended with it. Remus was being pressed against the door, the door knob digging into his side and would have been painful if he hadn't been preoccupied. Severus' tongue was dancing with his in a ballet, a tango. Their hands were clasped together and above Remus' head until Severus let go of them and pulled the man closer by his hips, eliciting a groan from him and a deep growl from Severus.

Remus dug his hands into Severus' hair, tugging gently as he attacked his mouth with a hunger he hadn't thought himself capable of. Remus' lips made a jagged trail down the man's pronounced jaw and to his neck where he found his pulse. Feeling the man's pulse against his lips did something and he nipped at it. Severus groaned and brought Remus' lips back to his own, his hands finding Remus' bum and making Remus call his name.

Everything stopped at this point and they both flew away from each other like they had been burned. Or, rather, Severus did. Remus' head was spinning with lust and another feeling he didn't have a name for.

"Severus, wait- "

"Get out."

"No, please, don't- "

"Get. Out."

"I'm not leaving."

Severus, his heart pounding, licked his bottom lip and tasting Remus again. "Fine. Then I will." He stormed past Remus, who tried to stop him by pulling his arm.

"Severus, please don't go."

"Let go of me," and he snatched his arm away to leave Grimmauld Place.

*

Severus paced his childhood home. Not one room. The entire house. In a pattern. First the kitchen, where he just couldn't convince himself to eat or drink anything. Then the halls to the living room where he would stare at the door and wonder if the wolf knew where he lived. The bedroom, always leaving rather hasty from this room to keep the thoughts from his mind of how appealing Remus looked with swollen bruised lips, his hair mussed, and his chest heaving. Occasionally he would stop outside of the room at the end of the hall where his parents had slept. Why had he kissed him? Why didn't he just throw him out of the room on his arse? His arse. Severus had never heard his name sound so good than when he grabbed the other man's arse.

Severus rubbed his hands over his face roughly and stared at himself in the bathroom mirror. Damn the wolf, he wanted to do it again. He wanted to kiss him again. He wanted to- Severus tilted his head and looked at the purple marked skin. He wanted to possess the man. Severus growled at his own thoughts and slammed his fists down on the counter with a stinging smek! and glared at it. Then didn't, opening his medicine cabinet and pulling out a long forgotten razor blade.

*

Remus holed himself up in the library, not leaving at all. He refused to eat. He didn't even read. He sat there boiling. Severus kissed him. Not the other way around. Remus had never felt so alive. He had never wanted someone so much in his life, groaning at the memory and having to think of something else. Anything else. The blood. The blood on the broken mirror shard, reflecting the blood dripping down his arm in lines- sometimes straight and sometimes in curves. The way everything just seemed second to it. He didn't think about Sirius. He didn't think about James and Lily. Or the war. Or Severus.

He found a mirror. In the attic. A mirror that hadn't been charmed unbreakable. Remus found great pleasure in throwing it at a wall, making a dent in said wall and scattering the mirror into its pieces. He picked one up, not the biggest, not the smallest, but one that fit well in his hand- breaking the skin of his hand as he used it to break the skin on his arm. It sliced easily, the first droplet quickly followed by the second and then third, finally a small stream. He made another just above it to see it merge together. He watched it roll down and thought that it rather looked like Severus' lips when he moved away. Or the nice flush that came with it. Remus placed a finger from his other hand in the way of the blood and watched it pause before breaking into another direction.

Why didn't Severus want him? What about him was so repulsive? Was it the wolf? No. It couldn't be. Or maybe his sexuality. No, the bulge that had grinded against his own disproved that. Was it the war? Remus cut his wrist again, deeper than he had before, in a different direction. The effect was immediate as the blood gushed out. Remus watched it, a small voice in the back of his mind- that oddly sounded like Lily- telling him that this was too much. That he had gone too far. That this wasn't what he wanted. He pushed it back further. Yes, this was what he wanted. It looked- like art. He smiled at that.