This is going to be the last chapter with Snape's POV intervening with the original Remus' narrative. I think I'm getting too complacent, so it's back to the old style with me! This is mainly because as present, it's changed quite a bit from how I wanted it to start off with, so, you know... never mind...

Oh yeah, one * signifies Flashback. Yup, it's back to the old standby.

This is an equally important chappie as well, due to the fact that, well, you'll see... I'm too cold to be bothered to type away the story-line. Humbugs.

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Chapter 13: Mal de tete (to put it lightly)

Yellow.

He woke to a dull throb in the back of his head. When he opened his eyes, the dull throb transformed into a vicious series of blows. He groaned loudly and tried to shift, moving upwards of his bed.

Thing was, it wasn't his bed.

The sheets were different: as pathetic as it may have seemed, Remus could tell that sort of thing even if the sheets were all the same white cotton as his, which, in this case, they were. It was something to do with the way they crinkled around his legs as he tried to shift.

Which is where the second problem came in.

His legs were entangled with those of someone else's and right arm underneath someone's head. Gently rising, he looked over. Of course, the raven black hair gave it away: it was Snape.

Pushing away the ache in his head, he leaned in closer. Snape shifted and mumbled quietly. Remus gently brushed some of the hair from the man's face, in silent, fascinated awe. Looking over, he noticed that Snape's left hand was clutching his own right. He smiled slightly and leaned in to his ear, pressing against the spooned body. A nibble on the earlobe and he lay back.

Snape's skin wasn't exactly sallow. It was merely a light - very light, though - tan that, what with bending over steaming potions and spending more time indoors, had contributed to his sallow complexion. The skin wasn't waxy, though: Remus could feel the pores beneath his fingertips.

Was the man dreaming?

Deciding against disturbing Snape - who looked much different when asleep under so close scrutiny - Remus went back to sleep.

Half an hour later, the opposite figure moved. His breathing quickened.

He was awake now.

Shifting back, Remus gave him space to sit up. However, Snape was slow to actually do so: his head raised by a fraction of an inch first and with quick, jerky movements, he turned his head to see what it was that was so different about the bed. Then he must've realised that there was someone lying behind him.

He turned round, mouth slightly open, eyes fixed in some sort of panic and his hair in strands over his face. The look of shock suddenly went and was replaced by a deep wince; a hand to his head and Remus knew he was feeling the after-affects of the night before.

"Good morning," Lupin said mildly, having had half an hour at least to recover slightly from his headache.

The pale hand was pulled down it's owner's face. Snape lay back, slumped, against the back of the bed, his eyes vacant and staring, as if he were trying to explain to himself why Remus was lying next to him.

"May I use the shower?" Remus asked quietly. Subdued, Snape nodded slightly.

After a moment's hesitation, Remus got up from the bed and walked towards the bathrooms.

The shower was warm and invigorating; it left the werewolf feeling supremely better than before. He had almost ventured to use on of the soaps available, but then thought better of it. The water was crystal clear and scented anyway.

Snape was wearing a dressing-gown and sitting at a table when Remus stepped out of the shower. He went to the opposite side of the room to get dressed: both men attempted to ignore each other. Neither man succeeded.

Quietly, so as not to grant any attention, the minute he had finished dressing, Remus slipped out of the door.

* * *

Severus:

I know. We were drunk. And that makes it even worse. The fact that I can be plied with alchohol and influenced to act like nothing better than a rent- boy.

When I think like that, and despite all my efforts, I still do, the image of Dumbledore always comes into my mind.

It's still there.

Amazing.

I've found that if I don't pay too much attention to it and avoid others, it doesn't come back to me so quickly. Only if I find myself thinking a bit too hard about the students: I can't risk caring about them. Selfish I suppose.

And now Remus.

I should have known he'd be a queer. He seems the type, doesn't he?

And now I'm talking to myself. Oh, the indescribabale joy of it all!

Seeing that most of the staff would have gotten themselves just as pissed as I did, I very much doubt anyone would mind if I skipped today's lessons. I might not deserve the break but no one else bothers about me and I don't bother about anyone else, so there.

Oh... it isn't just Remus. It's that Lira as well.

Sirius' wife. Attractive woman, the way they go, I suppose. Something about her always reminds me of Eleni. It's probably why I bother associating myself with her in the first place. If it were for the sake of her husband, then...

Christ, it comes back to Remus.

I'd rather not think about the night before. I can't remember so much of it. Hell, I can't remember *any* of it. But, there you go. It still happened and no doubt, by the time I can be bothered, everyone else will know it happened as well.

* * *

Remus almost burst out laughing when he arrived at the Great Hall for breakfast.

The huge table was a comical sight with only Dumbledore and Hagrid sitting at it. The large breakfast remained untouched for the most part. Remus was now wondering why he'd bothered to come.

"Good morning," he said cheerfully to Hagrid who beamed back.

"G'mornin'."

Remus sat next to him. "Weren't you at the party last night?" He enquired softly, so that Hagrid had to lean in to hear him.

"Yeah, jus' didna drink anythin'..." the half-giant yawned. "What abou' you? Yer 'ave the look of one that's had a hangover cure..." A knowing wink caused Remus to grin and nod. "Ah, yer lot are all the same." Hagrid chuckled, causing tremors through his shaggy beard and hair.

Lira entered the Great Hall and the students stopped. Remus frowned; surely they'd seen her before?

Blushing furiously, she hurried over to Lupin.

"Good morning!" She smiled broadly, perhaps mainly due to embarrassment.

"Hmm... same to you, I'm sure. How's Sirius?" He replied.

"Fine. Injected a little vial I got from Severus into him." She leaned forward, eyes sparkling and grinned further. "And how was *your* night, Remus? Enjoyable? Or have you forgotten all about it?" Containing a laugh, the woman giggled.

"Horrible woman," Remus growled, aware that his cheeks were burning. "I-it as a one-night stand and yes, I *have* forgotten all about it."

"'Course," she smiled.

"What?" He protested.

A click escaped from her mouth. "You and Severus dissappeared last night and *you* never returned to your bedroom. Need I say more?"

"Yes--"

"Fine. Everyone who cares thinks that you've been with each other for a bit longer than just the night. Mainly because the infamous Severus Snape would never care to share his bed with any ordinary passer by. Comprende?" She took a gulp of coffee. "How're you, Hagrid? Okay?"

"Yeah, jus' abou'. Third Link's gonna be placed in two days, right?" His black eyes dulled.

"Yup." Looking up, Lira saw that Sirius was coming in. "Look who's here."

"I'd bes' leave you two be," Hagrid said respectfully and got up. He nodded and grinned at Sirius as he walked past; Sirius grinned back and took Hagrid's seat at the table.

"So," he started, voice casual, but eyes shining. "Did you actually have sex with Snape last night?"

Remus choked.

He rarely showed any extremes of emotion like anger or shock, and Sirus was open mouthed at his friends sudden reaction. Thumping him on the back, he said quietly, "sorry about that..."

"N-no... it's okay..."

"But did you have sex with him last night?"

"Sirius!" Lira exclaimed.

"What? We all know he did, it's just nice to hear him admit to it."

Had Snape not entered at that precise moment, Remus was sure that the argument would have continued. But it didn't. Instead, husband and wife looked at the Head of Slytherin: Remus didn't think they'd realised how penetrating either of their stares could be. Snape sat at the furthest chair from them, doing his best - and Remus could tell - to ignore their looks.

"Stop that you two." He muttered.

"Stop what?" Lira and Sirius chorused.

* * *

Severus:

So he's told them.

Told them all about last night. How he probably had me screaming, how sick it is that someone like me could end up to be taken advantage of so easily.

Despite having mantras of self-worth drilled into me for the last quarter of a century, it's hard for me to shake off the feeling that maybe I *am*... worthless... I know it's immature to assume that I'm important to somebody, but it's just, when I compare myself to others... but I can't really do that... none of them would ever let someone... someone *abu-

God, I hate that word.

It's so ugly.

And fits what it describes exactly.

You can't run away from the truth and you can only just manage to push it down, but that just means that when it comes back, it springs up all the harder.

Well. Two Links have been done and both Linkbearers are alive.

Maybe it is worthwhile to celebrate.

Jesus. I have to eat something or else I won't be able to breathe. I hate it when this happens. Bad enough being claustrophobic, but when you're in an open space and *make* it seem smaller.... that's just pathetic.

Hah. My life. Et al.

* * *

Remus had to undermine his own glances so that the students and staff alike wouldn't notice anything. He was glancing at Snape. Of course.

Would Snape ever let him touch him again? How had he felt and tasted last night? How had he sounded?

Worse of all, it had happened whilst both men had been so pissed... oww.... headache...

Had they kissed? They must have. Over and over. Had Severus touched him... made *him* scream out loud... feeling in the right hand side of his neck, the swell of the purple love-bite rose against the tips of his sensitive fingers. Closing his eyes for a few moments, he inhaled.

He was in love.

Or was it just lust?

*

It wasn't *that* late. It was early December, however, so it always appeared so very much darker than was right. It was also raining outside. Raining *very* heavily and caused the twelve year old Severus to wonder how he could have been so stupid.

Hagrid - Professor Bainsford had explained politely - was in need of a certain potion. He needed it by tomorrow. Professor Bainsford had went on to say that she didn't care when Severus delivered the vial, so long as it was before dawn of the next day. That had been made quite clear. Thinking that all he'd really have to do would be to nip back and forth from Hagrid's hut, Severus had only just remembered to get on a heavier cloak, but that in itself wasn't much to stand against the heavy downpour.

The doors wouldn't actually lock for the whole of the night: Hogwarts had other ways to protect itself and many students were still in the Great Hall.

Already considerably soaked, Severus banged on the cabin door.

"Hagrid!" He called and eventually, the door opened to reveal the bushy face of the Hogwarts gamekeeper.

"Snape, eh?" He said. "What c'n I do fer you?"

Shivering, he extended his hand and placed the vial into Hagrid's. "Oh... oh I see... send my thanks to Profess'r Bainsford fer me, then. An' thank you fer deliv'rin' it ter me..."

"Alright..." He shivered again and began to walk down the steps.

"You sure you'll be OK?" Hagrid enquired gruffly. "Don't yer wan' anythin' ter warm you up, like?"

"N-no thanks!" Severus replied, turning slightly as he also tried to keep his eyes on the pathway. Even so, the cabin door remained open until Severus waved back and was actually walking up the stone steps of Hogwarts.

He hadn't bargained for how wet he'd be, either. When he entered the large passageway, a trail of rainwater followed him. Sighing, he took off his cloak but thought better of opening the door slightly, to wring it out.

Hoping that he didn't run into Filch, he trudged his way to the Slytherin common room.

Along the second turn he would have to make to get to the common room, the sound of voices reached Severus' ears. Wondering if he should attempt to hide himself from view or just continue walking, he opted for looking round the corner stones of the corridor.

It was Dumbledore. He had his back to Severus, although he was a long way off down the corridor. The boy couldn't quite see who it was he was talking to.

Not that it mattered too much. He just hoped they'd be walking off into the opposite direction--

No. No such luck. Dumbledore and the stranger had walked their separate ways and Dumbledore was heading towards him. Damn.

"Mr. Snape?"

If he could smile, Severus would have done at that moment: he could imagine the sight he must've made to the dignified, elderly wizard; soaked to the skin, hair flattened, skin pale and wet.

"Y-yes, sir?" He was chattering and cursed to himself.

Surveying the student, Dumbledore nodded. "Ah," he began, "I too had to fight the urge to go dancing in the rain: you obviously did not have quite the same success as I did in persuading myself not to." His eyes twinkled.

Severus rarely laughed. Even if he was that sort of child, he would be more puzzled as to what to make out of this statement, than trying to fight the inclination to laugh.

"Would you care to come to my office and warm up?" The Headmaster offered.

"N-no," he was still chattering. "Thank you, b-but no... I'm on my way to the common room any--..."

Dumbledore solemnly held up a hand to halt the boy's protests. "I *insist* that you do." He smiled down benignly and Severus felt warmth flood to his cheeks. "Come along, then, Mr Snape."

The absurdity of it - Severus thought to himself - was that his clothes were just as wet (probably more so) as he. Yet he continued to huddle them around him. He followed Dumbledore up numerous stairs and along numerous passageways, the bearable soak turning into a clinging dampness. He felt colder, the rainwater making his skin more suspectible to the chills that rushed through cracks in the stone walls that lined the corridors.

After what seemed like hours to Severus - but was actually in truth little more than five minutes - they came to an area of grey wall that was ornately carved and flanked by examples of brilliant masonary.

"Gordon and Lynches," Dumbledore said politely to the gargoyle. It jumped to life and sprang out of the way. "Come in, why don't you?" He turned to the second year, amused, when Severus had remained near the opposite wall, watching in something similar to awe. "He's a rather patient chap as gargoyle's go, but I'm afraid that doesn't go very far."

"Oh! Yes sir!" And Snape hurried in after him.

When they entered the office - a circular room with mantlepieces packed with magical instruments, books and jewels - Dumbledore said, "Do sit down."

"I'll get the seat wet," Severus protested.

"Well, of course you would: but, my boy, don't you think I'd be a pretty poor wizard if I couldn't simply, oh, say, *dry* the cushion?"

Sighing inwardly, Snape sat on a chair.

"What would you prefer? Hot Chocolate or... tea?"

Severus swallowed. "Hot Chocolate please."

"Very well then," speaking into something like a mesh covered dark hole in the wall, Dumbledore said, "Two hot chocolates please." He turned back to Severus. "Biscuits?" He asked. Snape nodded. "And a plate of chocolate biscuits, with that as well. Thank you."

The boy shivered again.

"How long did you dance out there?" Dumbledore smiled again.

"I wasn't dancing," Severus explained. "Professor Bainsford wanted me to give something to Hagrid and it slipped my mind, to do it earlier. So I went on to give it just now."

"Hm." Dumbledore looked thoughtful. "And how are you, Severus? How is your mother?"

A muscle in his neck twitched. "I'm fine and so is she."

"Have you hear from her recently?"

**No**

"Yes. She just said she was doing alright."

"Ah..."

Severus got the feeling that Dumbledore wanted him to say more. Stubbornly, he didn't. There wasn't much else to tell.

A knock on the door and a house elf came in, carrying a tray loaded with biscuits and two mugs of hot chocolate. It was a female one and she was smiling politely, in the nervous way all House elves seem to. She took the tray to Dumbledore who thanked her and gave a mug to Severus who attempted a smile. He remembered how both his parents used to despise families that kept house elves; his mother because they always got in the way and his father because the lack of servants was an indication of Snape family pride. Wondering how they'd react to Hogwarts having them (more so of his father because he was dead), he took several sips of cocoa, not noticing that the house elf had left and Dumbledore sat opposite him.

"Enjoying it, Severus?" Dumbledore enquire, his voice bringing Snape back to reality. "Care for a biscuit or two?"

"Mm... yes please." Was the quiet reply. Dumbledore gestured to the plate. When he extended his arm to take one, he was taken aback when the Headmaster held it in one of his own.

"Dear me, so cold, Severus..." he breathed. His fingers began to massage, encouraging the flow of blood. "Always so cold..."

Something was beginning to feel slightly odd now.

"Come round here, Severus."

**From Mr Snape to Severus, eh?**

Trembling slightly, Severus obeyed. Chuckling, Dumbledore said, "There's no need to be worried, my boy. Just come, stand in front of me."

It suddenly became difficult for Severus to breathe. Still, he obeyed, wondering what on earth was going on.

Now he was in reach, Dumbledore used both hands to encase that of Severus'. The old man sighed as he traced circles on the skin. Calmly, he turned Severus' hand over, so the palm was facing upwards. As gently as before, he traced spirals over the paper-thin skin, sending shivers down Snape's spine when his finger's path would cross that of a vein. Steadily pulling Severus closer to him, Dumbledore continued to trace upwards. The second year Slytherin only noticed how close they were when the Headmaster's fingers were feeling their way across the skin underneath the wet robes around the shoulder.

"You'd best take that off, Severus," the man said, voice low.

Alarm bells.

"No... no... I'm fine, I'll just get back... now... thank you... I'm fine though I--" but his gabble was cut off when Dumbledore applied a little more pressure with one hand and with the other, took off the outer robe.

"Soaked through to the very skin, hm?"

Severus couldn't get his voice to work.

Gripping the hem of his sweater, Dumbledore lifted. Swallowing, Severus pulled it off, eyes cast down. He was now very scared.

Almost wrapping an arm around the boy, Dumbledore pulled him closer until Severus' tighs were against his knees. Keeping his calm blue eyes in contact with the student's black ones, his hands snaked round the waist completely underneath the shirt.

"Please don't," he whispered, attempting to push away the white-locked head. "Just don't, please?"

He felt the Headmaster's lips against his abdomen. Severus clenched his teeth and screwed his eyes shut. "Hussssssshhhhhhh...." the man murmured against his skin, lowering his hands and with a few deft movements of one hand, opening the zipper to Severus' trousers. "Hush, now.... everything will be fine.... just fine..."

*

There would be no chance of getting it now, Remus realised. Damn it.

He had been genuinely interested in having that book for a while to read but he knew that he had completely blown his chances of ever getting a go at doing so. How could he ever get Snape to trust him now?

Wait.

Snape seemed to trust Lira.

Perhaps he could get the book through her...

Yawning, he drew the curtains and turned to the pleasant sight of his own bed before moving in between the sheets.

(@)

With all your underlying questions to your reviews, and after having Snape and Lupin fuck each other drunkenly, I decided to give you most of what you've all been waiting for: how Snape's abuse actually started. Hope you ... appreciated it. It was really hard for me to write this chapter. It's so.... horrific. I've read real case studies and Snape's emotions and self- portrayal are typical of abuse victims. I read elsewhere about a woman in her 70's who still hasn't properly recovered.

Will not be uploading for some time again. Please tell me if I've done the last two chapters right. I've got this feeling I've done something wrong.... The chapter 11 will be edited soon...-er or later.

Thanx for the reviews!