WARNING: I have raised the rating of this story from T to M. Not all chapters will have adult content (depends on the POV), but from now on you can expect introspection or scenes involving adult subjects such as sex, violence and drugs, ocassionally in combination. This chapter in particular touches all those subjects, so consider not to read if your sensibilities are easily offended, or if suffer PTSD from sexual assault or abuse, or if you struggle with drug addiction or alcoholism.
Chapter 73
Remus squirmed and shifted in place, trying to find a less uncomfortable position. His chains were so short that he couldn't lower his arms past his shoulders, and he didn't have enough leeway to lie on the cot either, so he was left half-hanging, half-crumpled against the gelid dungeon wall. Sore, cold, bleeding, defeated and utterly miserable.
When he had surrendered his wand, he had expected to be either obliviated or killed on the spot. Severus had already attempted to do both things, after all, and until the last moment he had seemed resolved and murderous enough to follow through with either intention, so it hadn't occurred to Remus to expect anything else.
He should have known there would be a reckoning, though. Remus had breached Severus' confidentiality tonight, had destructed his potions lab, invaded his private quarters, damaged his personal possessions, almost given him a stroke threatening that box...He should have known that after all his provocations Severus would not grant him the mercy of simple obliviation or death. If Remus had let himself be hit by that first Memory Charm he had blocked, or by any of the following Killing Curses, that would have been the end of it, he would be either dead or blissfully unaware of anything by now, but he had stubbornly refused both options when they had been generously offered, and by the time he had finally surrendered Severus had no longer been in a magnanimous mood at all.
Even if he had anticipated some form of punishment, though, he would have never expected this.
When instead of dealing with him on the spot Severus had escorted him out of the study at wandpoint and shoved him into a nearby cell —because yes, the Head of Slytherin had a prison cell ready for use inside his private quarters—, Remus had understood that this nightmarish night was far from over. He had been left there to wait and fret for some time, presumably while Severus deliberated what to do with him, until his gaoler had returned levitating a burning brazier and carrying a bundle of shiny silver chains —heavy chains that had undoubtedly been Goblin-forged with the specific purpose of restraining werewolves in mind.
Remus had felt deeply apprehensive about Severus' plans for him, but he had silently complied when he had been commanded to take off all his clothes, and despite his strong aversion to silver he hadn't objected to the shackles his former schoolmate had manually fastened around his wrists. So far it had all been standard procedure, basic preparations to torture a werewolf —no doubt the purpose of stripping him naked was to expose his skin for maximum pain, plus the visual and acoustic effects of direct flagellation, and as to the brazier... Remus had briefly hoped it was to keep him warm, but the heat seemed to be magically contained so he feared it might have a more nefarious purpose.
He had been left like that, naked and tethered to the wall by debilitating chains, for another incommensurable span of time, time that Remus had spent envisioning any number of torments and dreading whatever additional equipment Severus had probably gone to fetch. Such equipment turned out to be an ominous black coffer that could contained anything, a worn leather roll bag that almost certainly held an array of silver knives or something else made of silver, a small metal case that later was revealed as a drug container, and a full bottle of whisky.
Severus had also been deliriously high at his return, his eyes wild and darker than ever, and he had changed his strict teaching robes for more casual attire, a simple shirt and pants that, together with the shoeless feet, had seemed to reflect his reckless abandonment of all self-restraint.
Remus had been truly afraid of Severus in that moment. But even then, it had not occurred to him to fear this. He had expected to be flogged, flayed, denailed. Perhaps poisoned, boiled, burned. Murdered in some gruesome, leisured way possibly culminating in decapitation. Severus had issued many different threats tonight, and it had seemed like he had decided to indulge his darkest inclinations at last, so Remus had braced himself for all sorts of pain... except for this sort.
Until the very last moment, he hadn't guessed what Severus was actually about. Even as he was forced face down across the narrow cot, completely naked and exposed, with an intoxicated Death Eater looming over him, the possibility hadn't crossed his mind until it was happening.
Because never in a thousand years he would have expected to be sodomized by Severus Snape of all people.
Remus lifted his head and looked at his former colleague through the bars separating them. In contrast with him, Severus was the image of comfort and relaxation, lounging in a fancy wingchair with his feet let up on a matching footrest. He had a tumbler of whisky loosely held in his right hand, which was shaking slightly, and it sounded like his heart rate had finally normalized. He looked completely spent, and it was no wonder; so vigorous sexual activity would wear out even a werewolf, and Severus seemed to be rapidly losing the drug support that had kept him up, the combined exhaustion resulting from physical exertion, sexual release, sleep deprivation and multi-drug crash plainly beginning to catch up with him.
On his part, Remus was slowly recovering from the brutal shock he had experienced. It wasn't the first time he had found himself in such position, but it was the first time as a human, and he had roundly concluded that it wasn't the same thing at all. Struggles for dominance felt natural as a werewolf, normal behaviour for their kind; they were all just following their instincts, acknowledging the stronger wolf and naturally falling into order behind him, while as a human... as a human it felt more like rape. Harder to cope with, not to mention more painful, and more embarrassing.
It was also the first time he had been overpowered since he had stepped up as an alpha, and he could feel the crushing defeat in his soul. Severus wasn't a werewolf, so his display of dominance couldn't affect the werewolf hierarchy, but it could certainly affect Remus, and the effect was devastatingly conflicting. The old insecurities that had held him back for so long were resurfacing, making him doubt his own potential once again, undermining his newfound sense of self-worth and calling into question his suitability to lead such a large pack of quarrelsome werewolves. He felt himself regressing, falling back into old roles, but even as he went down some part of him still refused to concede defeat.
Unlike the bitter submission Fenrir had forced on him in the past, this wasn't something Remus could easily accept. As an alpha, he could no longer tolerate having anyone above him, he had lost the ability to submit, and yet it was done, he had been toppled to the ground and thoroughly pounded into sexual submission, broken in a way Fenrir had never managed to break him. He could feel the evidence of his defeat leaking out of his arse, Severus' ruthless assertion reverberating through his bones, a new status-quo settling inside his brain... And yet he couldn't accept it.
He was beginning to understand why Fenrir had preferred to leave the pack rather than staying under his command. Why the leaders of the other packs had chosen to die rather than submit, even though they could have ranked high in the new order. If Severus were a werewolf, Remus would make the same choice: he would either fight to death or leave the pack rather than subordinate himself to another alpha.
Or would he?
Remus looked through the bars of his cell again, assessing his former schoolmate. Severus wasn't completely naked, thankfully, but he had taken off his shirt at some point so he was bare from the waist up, and it was plain at first sight that he worked out regularly. He had a slender built, not very muscular, but the planes of his chest and stomach were hard, his arms visibly strong, and Remus was willing to bet he could easily beat Sirius in a muggle fight now —mostly because he would fight dirty, aiming to cripple or kill like the Death Eater he was, but also because he kept himself fit and nimble, as he had demonstrated earlier in their duel.
No matter how much he exercised, though, Severus would be in a physical disadvantage as a werewolf, light and scrawny compared to Remus or Fenrir. But he would also be the angriest one out there, the most vicious, and possibly also the darkest creature in Britain, so his size would likely not signify during the full moon. Equally important, he was a frightfully powerful dark wizard who would have no trouble keeping the most unruly werewolves in line the rest of the month. Severus would not hesitate to kill anyone who challenged him, nor, apparently, to ascertain his dominance over the other males in human form as well, so he'd hold the alpha position much more firmly than Remus, who wasn't naturally dominant as human and therefore struggled to stay in control most of the time.
Severus would rule monster land, no doubt about that, and most werewolves would be happy to follow him. Even Fenrir might be willing to subordinate himself to a Death Eater who shared his taste for rape and drugs. As to Remus... he would probably fall in line too, if he stayed. But he wouldn't stay, partly because he wouldn't be safe living under Severus' regime and partly —mainly— because he wouldn't want to risk overpowering Severus during the full moon. Which could happen, whether he wanted to do it or not. Remus was physically stronger, after all, and vicious enough to have come this far. And he couldn't control what he did as a wolf, so he might eventually challenge his new alpha for dominance if he stayed in the pack. Perhaps he should wish to turn the tables on his rapist and screw his sorry arse as payback for tonight, but he didn't. Remus would rather get screwed again than subject Severus to any kind of abuse —a preference that, he supposed, answered his previous question: he would subordinate himself to Severus, if it were as simple as choosing a wolf to follow (which it wasn't).
Not that all this speculation was in any way relevant, of course. Severus wasn't a werewolf, thank Merlin, and if he were ever bitten by one he would probably kill himself before facing the first transformation. Even if Severus were a werewolf, Remus didn't expect to live long enough to find out how this incident would affect his behaviour during the next full moon, so it was pointless to speculate about it.
Thinking was all he could do to distract himself from the pain and misery of his situation, though, so Remus kept mulling things over while he slowly bled to death —the cut that Severus had inflicted on him during their confrontation in the lab had not healed yet, and it didn't seem as if it was going to, tainted by Dark Magic as it was, nor did he have much hope that Severus would heal him.
Remus didn't expect to get out of here alive. Letting him go with his memories intact truly wasn't an option now, since he could accuse the Death Earter of at least three serious crimes that would get him fired or arrested, not to mention that Severus would not want Remus to go around knowing this about him. Obliviation also wasn't a very viable option after such brutal rape, not unless Severus could do a perfect healing job in one go, without requiring further healing sessions —other people might not consider the possibility if they suddenly started hobbling or shitting blood without recollection of having had anything shoved up their arses, but as an alpha werewolf who lived surrounded by devious bastards who wanted to fuck him Remus would immediately suspect, and he would try to verify whatever alternative story had been planted in his mind. Severus must have considered all this, so Remus assumed his old schoolmate had decided to kill him after all, probably telling himself that his head had more value as a gift for Voldemort —which might be true if Severus truly was so valuable as a spy.
He wondered who would take charge of the pack if he didn't return, and how many would die if Fenrir took over again. All those who had openly supported Remus would most likely have their lives forfeited in that case, he guessed, except for the females, who would have it much worse. Tanya would not submit, though, not in human form, so unless she managed to slip away she'd likely die too...
Remus shook his head to himself and pushed away all thoughts of dying as well as any concern for his fellow werewolves. He would not think of Tanya either, lest he got hard and gave Severus the wrong idea.
Severus, who might not look at his cock with as much disgust as it had seemed last year...
As a werewolf, Remus was used to think of sex —especially male-to-male sex— primarily as a matter of dominance, but of course he knew it wasn't always about that. Amongst humans, it was more often motivated by simple lust, triggered by physical attraction and aimed to sexual gratification.
Uncomfortable as it was to consider the possibility, he wondered if that had been the case for Severus tonight.
There had been drugs involved, multiple ones, but there had also been planning, so it was hard to tell how much of Severus' behaviour had been motivated by his own desires, and how much the drugs had influenced him. The violence of the act also made hard to differentiate lust from hatred as prime motivations, but it didn't have to be one of the other, and there seemed to have been a lot of both —Severus had certainly gone at it long and hard enough to thoroughly express all his angry passions and then some. Remus had probably seen the man at his most honest, all his urges, vices and proclivities confidently displayed in front of a witness that would never have a chance to tell anyone about it.
Did that mean, then, that Severus had always wanted to do this?
Last year the obsessive Potions Master had insisted on checking on him the morning after each full moon, supposedly to verify that the Wolfsbane hadn't killed him, so Remus had found himself completely naked under his clinical eye once a month without exception. And Severus had often arrived before he woke up, busied himself lightening a fire and reading his books while he waited for his monstrous patient to stir, so he had had more than an eyeful of his morning wood —which was especially hard after abstinent transformations. After years waking up alone and cold with no one to care for him, Remus had been deeply appreciative of those check-up visits, but now he wondered... Had there been more than just professional interest or healer responsibility behind it? Had his colleague sat to watch him with lust in his dark eyes, fantasying with chaining him to a wall and having his way with him?
Had this been just a punishment, a sexual form of torture driven by hatred? Or had it been at least partially motivated by natural desire?
Remus had always assumed that Severus was straight, but admittedly he didn't have any evidence of the man's sexual orientation asides from his confusing relationship with Lily and now this. James had often commented on Severus' preference for male company, noticing that he seemed to hate girls in general, and there had been rumours in seventh year... Remus had been convinced at the time that James had made up that story about Severus and the older Lestrange brother, and that he had been the one to spread the tale —hoping the gossip would reach Lily, no doubt—, but now he wondered. It was true that Severus had spent that summer with the Lestranges, personally invited by Rabastan according to Sirius (who had heard it from a cousin), and everyone had known that the Lestrange Heir had no use for women. Severus had seemed like the type to accept his patronage, and he had been seen with Rabastan in Hogsmeade a few times, but that could have been just Death Eater business, and besides Remus could never forget how he had looked at Lily...
Perhaps he was bisexual?
Not that sexual orientation was necessarily relevant, of course. Remus knew from personal experience that with the right frame of mind one could fuck anything, and could do so just as enthusiastically as the preferred gender or species. He also knew that darkness had a way to make people flexible, both morally and sexually. And Severus Snape was nothing if not dark. Dark, vengeful, sadistic, and definitely dominant, exactly the sort of person that would find the idea of rape arousing regardless of the sex of the victim. And apparently the sort that would put the idea to practice.
It was one thing to fuck another man, though —for whatever reasons—, and quite another to fuck a werewolf. Or at least, Remus would have expected it to make an insurmountable difference to Severus, who by general rule treated anyone affected by Lycanthropy like rabid lepers too unsafe to approach. And such caution was mostly justified. It might be silly to fear contamination from a simple hand-shake or saliva exchange, but it was true that werewolves were infectious the entire month, not just during the full moon —although of course conversion could only be effected by a wolf bite. There were also valid reasons why human-werewolf relations were forbidden by law in many countries, and why werewolf blood was labelled as a class 5 biological hazard. Severus knew all this, normally he wouldn't even sit in a chair Remus might have previously occupied, and yet...
And yet he had risked the most intimate contact with him. And without taking any prophylactic measures, which was beyond reckless considering the lacerating brutality of the assault. What the hell had he been thinking? Had he been too drunk to remember? Too high to care?
Remus squirmed again and shifted his weight to his left buttock. Saying that his arse was sore would be a huge understatement. He felt as if he had been raped by a hippogriff rather than by a man. A very big, angry hippogriff with superhuman strength and insane stamina. Whether the sexual drive and endurance was innate or drug-induced, it was hard to tell, but there was no way Severus was naturally so strong, so Remus assumed he had taken something to enhance his physical capacity. Perhaps a strengthening solution, or an invigorating draught, or a fortifying tonic of some kind —probably a double dose of all those things combined, to render himself physically able to subdue a werewolf if the chains didn't hold.
In addition to the cocaine, of course.
Remus couldn't identify by smell all the substances Severus had administrated himself —most potions were either odourless or too indistinctively scented for even his nose to distinguish—, but he could sniff out muggle drugs a block away. And cocaine was a big favourite of werewolves, Fenrir's drug of choice, so he was very familiar with its particular fragrance. When Severus had walked back into the cell reeking of it, and already flying high, Remus had assumed it was meant to squash any scruples the man might have about torturing people, as that had been what the Death Eater had seemed to be preparing himself to do, but now he wondered. The cocaine could have actually been intended as a confidence booster to fuck a creature of nightmares, some chemical aid to override the terror and caution that would normally make such proximity completely unthinkable. If it had been so, however, if Severus had planned to get high and do this, then why hadn't he planned some form of prophylaxis too? Remus simply couldn't believe that Severus Snape of all people would rationally decide to fuck a werewolf without even a muggle condom to protect himself from contamination. So the man must have done it on an impulse. He had probably walked in with the sole intention of torturing him, only to be sidetracked from his plans, driven to lustful recklessness, by the cocaine in his system.
Whether the lust had been there to begin with, if there had been repressed desire to be unleashed, a sexual interest normally eclipsed by fear or self-denial, Remus couldn't be sure. He rather feared now that he had done it once Severus would find no reason not to do it again, just as bare and just as brutally as the first time, and while the prospect of a second round was daunting to say the least Remus found himself almost hoping for it. Not because he enjoyed being repeatedly raped, but because it would keep Severus entertained, distracted, and Severus really seemed to need a distraction right now. Anything to take his mind off the metal case resting by his side.
The metal case containing heroin.
Remus regarded his former colleague with concern again. Severus hadn't touched that stuff yet, but he had placed the alluring case on a little table within his reach, and after ignoring it for a while he had opened it, allowing the nearly odourless scent of high-quality heroin join all the other smells saturating the room. He looked like a recovered alcoholic contemplating taking a sip of his favourite drink, trying to resist but stepping closer and closer to the edge of the wagon, his will weakening with each passing second. Remus could tell, by the way Severus' heart gave a little jump every time he glanced at it, that heroin was his drug of choice, the one he was truly addicted too, the last step that would send him down a free fall of self-destruction.
And he worried.
He worried about Severus, who could die if he mixed up too many drugs —heroin, cocaine, alcohol, and whatever else he had taken might prove deadly even for a wizard.
He also worried about himself, who would die for sure if Severus checked out from Reality now —at this bleeding rate, he would run out of blood before the effect of the heroin wore off, and lack of blood wasn't something he could survive as a human.
Most of all, though, he worried about Harry, who apparently was depending on Severus' help to survive the Triwizard Tournament and might not get the help he needed if his protector fell into a drug addiction two weeks before the Third Task.
If it were just the cocaine, it wouldn't be so concerning —people could function perfectly fine on cocaine, and the addiction could easily go unnoticed—, but heroin was a very different sort of drug. Remus had used heroin himself for many years, so he understood the appeal, and he actually recommended it for new werewolves, to help them cope with the pain and horror of the first transformations —or to escape the guilt whenever they killed someone during the full moon. It was an awesome drug, less harmful to others than cocaine, a godsend to werewolves who struggled with their condition.
Werewolves couldn't get addicted like humans, though. Their cursed nature meant that they could easily spend one month on a 24-hour-binge, get instantly disintoxicated at the full moon, and choose to start the next month completely clean without going through withdrawal. Most chose to go on a binge again, true, but so what? Who cared if a werewolf wasted away his life with drugs? They had no value for society, on the contrary. Most people wanted them dead or worse. Few trusted them knowing what they were. The majority of their kind didn't have jobs to keep nor families to support, no responsibilities nor places to be, nothing worthwhile to live for and little reason to stay sober.
Severus, on the other hand, had hundreds of children under his care, including Harry, and twice as many parents to answer to; he had a busy teaching schedule to uphold, potions to brew for the Infirmary, detentions to supervise, patrol shifts, office hours, three meals a day to attend under Albus Dumbledore's watchful eye. He might be able to juggle alcoholism and cocaine dependence, but he absolutely could not afford a heroin addiction.
Remus didn't know how to dissuade the man from the stupid course of action he seemed to be considering, though. Every time he had tried to talk to Severus tonight, every time he had tried to say something reasonable and helpful, somehow he had managed to make things worse, so he hesitated to open his mouth again, all too aware that he had pushed the Death Eater this far. Severus had already been on the way down the slippery slope, thanks to Sirius, giving occasional free reign to his darkness and indulging in alcohol and other mild drugs, and instead of helping him back to steady ground Remus had precipitated his fall, driving him to hard drugs, murder and rape all in the course of an hour.
After the mess he had made, Remus didn't trust himself to speak. He feared anything he said would be the thing that would push Severus over the edge, the last unintentional aggravation that would send the Death Eater on a dangerous dragon's chase.
But he had to say something, before it was too late for words to have any effect. What, though? Telling him not to get high would be the easiest way to ensure he did, just to spite him, and it wasn't as if Severus needed an explanation of why it would be stupid —no doubt he had already considered all the reasons why he shouldn't touch the heroin, and they were strong and compelling enough reasons to have stayed his hand so far.
Mere practical reasons might not be enough, though. Even survival wasn't important enough for a junkie. In Remus' experience, the only thing that could make one turn away from a path of blissful self-destruction was a person. Someone who mattered. For him, currently it was Harry, even if the boy hated him, and Sirius, even though Remus wasn't feeling so charitable towards him at the moment. For Severus it might be Harry as well, although not really Harry...
"Did Lily know?"
It was a gamble. Remus didn't know if bringing up Lily would make things better or worse, but he had to hope it would give Severus pause. Lily had been a light in the darkness for everyone who had known her, and she was the only person that Remus had ever seen Severus genuinely smile at, the only girl he had seemed to like as a student, and apparently the reason why he had betrayed Voldemort. If something could reach the Death Eater now, it would be her.
And, well... Remus was curious. If he was going to die tonight, it would give him some peace to know that Lily and Severus had reconciled at the end. Or at least that Lily had known about Severus' change of heart. It would be too sad if she had died not knowing, believing her best friend lost and indifferent when he had actually been fighting on her same side and trying to protect her.
Severus' reaction to his question wasn't very auspicious, though. The sound of Lily's name seemed to shatter his state of relaxation and summon anger right back, his brooding expression darkening as he turned to glare at Remus through the bars of his cage.
"Know what?" he growled, clenching his left hand in a fist. The muscles of his neck and arm tensed threateningly, and the ugly tattoo on his forearm seemed to glint just as evilly as the real Dark Mark used to shine in the sky.
Remus hesitated.
"That you changed sides for her," he said cautiously.
"Is that what you told Potter?" sneered Severus. "That I betrayed the Dark Lord because I had a soft spot for his Mudblood mother?"
"I didn't tell him anything," said Remus, taken aback by the response. He was also discomfited by how easily the word Mudblood rolled out of the Death Eater's tongue —just like that time by the lake, there was so much genuine scorn in his voice and eyes that one could almost believe he meant it. "Harry doesn't know that you and Lily used to be friends. He does know that you changed sides to protect his family, though, and I thought..."
"You thought years after our friendship ended I still gave a damn about the shallow girl that married my school nemesis?" drawled Severus. "You thought I changed sides to protect James Potter's family?"
"Dumbledore told Harry-"
"Dumbledore will say whatever he has to say to manipulate people into thinking whatever he wants them to think," cut him off Severus harshly. "He also leaves out what he doesn't want people to know about. No doubt in this instance his goal was to convince the boy that I'm not a heartless bastard, so he weaved a tale of remorse and atonement and led Potter to think that deep down I'm the sort of man who would risk his life to save the family of his most hated enemy. Which I am not."
"You did warn Dumbledore that Voldemort was after the Potters, though," insisted Remus, feeling increasingly confused. "And Harry said that you suggested Dumbledore as their Secret Keeper. You did try to protect them, Severus, and I can only imagine you did it for Lily."
"It had nothing to do with her," spat Severus with disgust. "Lily married the jerk who screwed up my life, befriended the arsehole who tried to get me ripped apart by a werewolf, chose to connect herself with wealthy pureblood bullies while condemning any Slytherin connections I made as demonic scum. She was a gold-digger, narrow-minded, hypocritical little bitch who preached against evilness but was fine with it if it came in a charming Gryffindor package with Dumbledore's stamp of approval on it." Severus leaned forward in his chair, his body shaking with rage. "She wrote me off as a lost cause, moved on to champion Potter instead, and you think I would have risked a painful traitor's death to protect her? Her, the self-absorbed vixen who used me and discarded me like I was nothing? You think I would move a finger to protect her child with another man? A child that looks just like him and smiles just like her?" Severus threw his tumbler hard against the wall, sending shards of glass and drops of whisky flying in all directions. "Lily was a reason to join the Dark Lord, not to betray him! As far as I'm concerned she deserved to die with her jerk of a husband, and I can only hope the Dark Lord made their deaths painful!"
Remus felt chilled to the bone. He had never believed it when Lily had said Severus hated her, even though the haughty Slytherin had given her the coldest shoulder all through their NEWT years, but seeing the hatred in his eyes now, hearing his hateful speech... suddenly her anguish over it seemed tragically justified. Especially since it was now clear that Severus wasn't gay. Bisexual, maybe, or sexually flexible, or just sadistic. Whichever his orientation, he definitely had had a romantic or at least carnal interest in Lily. He had wanted her for himself, to have a child with her that looked like him, but instead he had had to watch her marry James of all people. And plainly whatever he had felt for her had not survived such betrayal. There were no positive emotions left, nothing but hatred and anger, a spiteful determination to remember Lily as someone not worth caring about, to think the worst of her.
It was disappointing, but more realistic and far more consistent with Severus' character than the naive tale of love and forgiveness Remus had dreamed up. And it was concerning. Because if Severus had hated Lily just as much as he had hated James, then his motivations became muddled, his allegiance less secure, and Harry's safety under his care not quite so certain.
Remus looked at his former colleague again, trying to puzzle him out. Severus had insinuated that Dumbledore might have lied to Harry about the reasons behind his change of heart, or at least that he might have left out important information to manipulate Harry's opinion of the man, leading the boy to believe that Severus was a nobler person than he actually was. After learning that Dumbledore had fed Harry that nonsense about Severus owing James a life debt, Remus could easily believe the old man would twist the truth to fit his goals, but it couldn't all be a lie. Harry had mentioned a pensieve memory, apparently he had seen Severus at his trial and heard everything disclosed there, so at least part of the information the boy was handling must be accurate. And Severus hadn't denied that he had tried to protect the Potters, only that he hadn't done it for Lily, so the bare facts must be true, if not the motivations behind them.
What were the real motivations, though? Why had he changed sides, if not for her? Remus supposed there might have been any number of other reasons, and that once having decided to fight for the light warning Dumbledore about a threat to Order members would have been an obligation, something he had had to do even if he despised the people he was helping to protect. He might even have used the information about the Potters as a ticket into the light side, to prove Dumbledore that he was willing to tolerate and even protect his school nemesis instead of rejoicing in the deaths of his entire family like a Death Eater would. It still didn't make much sense that a cold, dark, practical man like Severus Snape would change sides right when Voldemort was winning the war, not unless he had had some higher motivation, but that higher motivation didn't necessarily have to be Lily —he could have simply grown a conscience and tried to make up for his crimes by offering his services as a spy to Dumbledore.
It was undeniable that he was trying to protect Harry, though. Severus resented the boy's mere existence, held nothing but hatred towards both James and Lily, claimed he would not move a finger to protect Lily's child with another man, and yet he himself admitted that he was trying to save Harry's life. Why was he doing it? It wasn't on Dumbledore's orders, plainly, since he was working behind the Headmaster's back, nor was it to square a questionable life debt. Harry had speculated it might be because of what the Boy-Who-Lived represented in the fight against darkness, as a symbol for people to rally around, and Severus had said something about Harry being the only one who could bring down Voldemort, but sufficient as those reasons might be to protect Harry Potter Remus couldn't shake the feeling that there had to be a more personal motive. The way Severus had panicked when he had threatened that life-saving box, the strain and desperation in his eyes, as if Harry dying would be the end of the world...
A child that smiles just like her.
A disturbing thought flashed through Remus' mind, making his stomach churn uneasily. Anyone who had known Lily could see at first sight that Harry had her eyes, but it was perhaps telling that Severus had also noticed the smile. Like Remus, he must see Lily whenever he looked at the boy, even if Harry was otherwise a physical copy of James. And, hate him he might, but even Severus would have to admit that James had been good-looking, an attractive specimen for both sexes, and he must have noticed that Harry was a pretty boy too, bound to outrival his father with those killing green eyes that sparkled just like Lily's.
Could Severus want Harry for himself? As a substitute for Lily? Some twisted form of revenge against James? Two hours ago Remus could not have even conceived the possibility, much less believe it, but the current soreness in his arse was inarguable evidence that Severus wasn't strictly straight, and it was obvious that the man wasn't so over Lily as he had claimed to be in his hateful speech. He had a lot of pent-up anger and hatred, but Remus had heard the hurt in his words too, the pain of betrayal and abandonment, and he could tell that even after all these years Severus still longed for her. Maybe even loved her, in some angry, resentful, unforgiving sort of way.
Two hours ago Remus would have thought it a good thing for Severus to transfer some of his feelings for Lily to her son, but now... now it had become a terrible possibility. Not only because now he knew Severus wasn't opposed to fuck other men, and he feared he might have such plans for Harry, but because he had proven himself capable of rape, and apparently had no scruples about obliviating fourteen-year-old boys. Remus didn't think Severus would ever do something so nefarious to a student under his care, but with so many drugs in his system the Potions Master wasn't exactly himself at the moment, and Harry wasn't just any student, but a representation of both James and Lily, the embodiment of hate and desire for the unhinged Death Eater. What if Severus was drunk and high on cocaine when he went to obliviate the boy? What if he gave free rein to his darkness, his violence and lust, when he was alone with Harry somewhere? He might not even have difficulty subduing his victim, since Harry probably trusted him more than anyone else right now and certainly would not be expecting this from his teacher.
Closing his eyes, Remus tried to clear his mind from the horrible images he kept conjuring up, but it was no use, all he could see was Harry in this position, broken and sore, confused and afraid, monstrously betrayed by the man he had just begun to trust. He found himself suddenly praying Severus would reach for the heroin after all, even though that would seal his own death, and almost wishing his dark gaoler would overdose and die as well. Anything to stop this nightmare from escalating even more.
His attempt at distraction seemed to have worked too well, however, as bringing up Lily had made Severus angry again, too angry for him to want to escape Reality just now. Five minutes ago, Remus had hoped for such delay, but when he saw his former colleague slamming shut the metal case and pushing away the temptation, instead of feeling relieved he was filled with fearful apprehension. Apprehension that turned to outright dread when Severus reached into his trouser pocket and extracted a small ziplock bag containing a very familiar white powder.
"Does the map cover the entire grounds and castle?" asked the Death Eater, holding the plastic bag at eye level and inspecting the powder as if it were a regular potion ingredient.
Remus almost didn't hear the question over the frantic hammering of his heart against his chest, plus the wave of dizziness that hit him in response to the sudden rush of adrenaline. That ziplock bag must be charmed to be perfectly hermetic, because he couldn't smell what was in it, but he was pretty sure that it was more cocaine, and in the current context more cocaine meant more rape.
"Answer, wolf," snapped Severus. "Does the map cover the entire grounds and castle?"
"Um, the castle is mapped in full, the grounds only partially," scrambled to say Remus, willing his racing heart to slow down. He was bleeding enough as it was, no need to pump the blood out of his body faster. "The lake and the forest were too large to include, so we only mapped the area closest to the castle and outbuildings."
"There are no blind spots? Nowhere inside the castle where someone could stand without appearing in the map?"
It was hard to focus his attention on something so unimportant as the Marauder Map when only ten feet away Severus had opened the ziplock bag and was in the process of tasting its contents, but Remus made an effort to think through his fear and lightheadedness. It was the second time tonight that Severus asked about the Map. Why was he so interested? Why was he so concerned about being tracked? Did he want to hide his activities from Harry, or was he searching for a place where he could take the boy unawares?
"There are plenty of blind spots," said Remus carefully. "None that Harry could access, though. Anywhere he can go, you can see it in the map."
Severus' displeased expression seemed to confirm his worst fears. Remus cursed himself for admitting that there were large portions of the grounds unmapped, countless places around the lake where Harry could be ambushed at night even if he had the map with him.
"Where are those blind spots?" demanded to know the Death Eater.
"We're in one right now," admitted Remus, relieved that at least Severus could never bring Harry here. "None of the teachers' personal quarters are included. Neither are the girls' dormitories in any House. We could only map areas allowed to male students."
Severus thought for a moment.
"What about my private lab?" he pressed.
"It is mapped, although I think it was just an abandoned room in the dungeons when we plotted it."
Severus scowled and muttered something about "bloody Marauders" before turning his attention to the cocaine again.
There were spells to get high, charms that one could use to arrange a fix in a blink or to magic substances directly into the bloodstream, but Remus wasn't surprized to see Severus do it the muggle way. For all his Slytherin pride, Severus had a lot of muggle habits, and there was something ritualistic about getting high that made many wizards prioritize process over speed. It was a bit like foreplay, the gradual build-up of anticipation through torturous handling of the object of temptation, delaying gratification for the sake of enjoying the benefits of a good preparation. Like foreplay, not every wizard bothered with it, but those who did were almost religious about it, attending to every detail from drug quality, to ambience, to careful handling and time availability. Remus had no reason to think Severus was a foreplay kind of guy —his own experience had been painfully blunt, no preparation whatsoever—, but the Potions Master was definitely meticulous when it came to prepare his drugs for use.
Not that snorting cocaine required much preparation, of course, but there were a few steps to follow if one wanted to get safely and efficiently high, and Severus was taking his sweet time going through them. Considering his sadistic personality, Remus guessed that the slowness was mostly intended to unnerve him, to build up his anticipation, and embarrassing as it was to admit it it was working all too well. The sight of his half-naked rapist calmly cutting lines of cocaine definitely was building up his anticipation, inducing all sorts of effects on his body, and knowing that Severus would likely kill him as soon as he was done with him was forcing him to confront the imminent possibility of his death.
Remus couldn't help fearing for himself, for his arse and his dignity, for his soul —due to his cursed nature, he expected to go to hell or get stuck in limbo forever when he died—, but in what felt like his last moments of life he was still more worried about Harry than about himself. Because while Remus deserved whatever his former schoolmate chose to do to him, Harry was innocent, so young and vulnerable... and so damaged already. He deserved care and support, not abuse of any kind.
"Severus..." he said almost pleadingly, his voice a little rough. "You will regret it if you hurt Harry. He's just a child. One of your students... I know you would never harm one of your Slytherins..."
Severus looked up from his work and fixed him with a hard, withering look.
"I would never harm any child under my care," he said coldly, "Slytherin or otherwise. Especially not Potter. I thought I made clear that my objective is to keep the boy alive, not harm him."
"You also made clear that you hate both his parents and didn't really want to protect his family," pointed out Remus, not fully reassured. "You resent Harry's very existence, and yet you want him alive. Why?"
"My reasons are my own business," said the man irritably. "I don't have to answer to you, and I won't tolerate being questioned by a werewolf who almost killed several children last year. Unlike you, I would never harm Potter. I would never risk being near him if I posed any danger to him. I would die before hurting him, and I would take his pain upon myself rather than allow any harm come to him. No one takes his safety more seriously than I do, and nothing is more important to me than keeping him safe."
Remus was again struck by the vehemence of Severus' speech, but in a very different way than before. He had always admired —and admittedly feared—how passionate Severus was about things. How intense and all-consuming his feelings were. There was no middle-ground for him, no half-hearted choices, only emotional extremes. When he hated, he hated all the way, completely and forever. He fucked just as extremely, hard and long and furious, and had no moderation for drugs nor violence —when he indulged, he abandoned all self-restraint, quickly crossing the line to suicidal or murderous.
And when he chose to protect, he went to the extreme as well, ready to kill or die for it. There was no half-way, no forgiving of any threats, nothing he wasn't willing to do to keep anyone under his protection safe. Remus had seen that attitude countless times last year, whenever he had had to deal with the nastily protective Head of Slytherin, and he was definitely reassured to see it applied to Harry now. He still couldn't discard the possibility of Severus having a sexual interest in Lily's son, but he now felt confident that the man would not act on any such interest while the boy was a student under his care, and he believed him when he said that he would not risk being near Harry if he posed any danger to him —as while being too high or drunk to trust his own behaviour.
Severus had claimed to be more responsible than Remus, a more trustworthy teacher and caretaker even at his worse, and Remus had to admit that it might be true. To his shame, he also suspected that his former colleague might have a less filthy mind than he had, at least when it came to children. Professional and self-disciplined as he was, Severus probably hadn't even envisioned doing anything inappropriate with Harry, even if he considered the option for the future, while Remus had easily pictured the most disturbing scenarios, things that people should be arrested for merely thinking. Just as earlier he had conjured up the most graphic fantasies involving that champion friend of Harry, the French Beauxbatons girl, and last year he had had highly inappropriate thoughts about certain Ravenclaw, while Severus probably would never allow himself to think that way about a student no matter how attractive. Remus also had young girls in his pack —some very young—, and while he tried not to fuck them as human he had definitely done so, every single one, and not always with proper consent. He could say he had had to do it and hadn't really wanted to, but he would be half-lying, since he actually liked them young and he enjoyed their inability to say no to him. They could be his daughters, and yet he would rather keep them in his bed than send them to school, while Severus would doubtlessly castrate him if he knew about that.
A minute ago Remus would have pronounced himself a far more decent person than the Death Eater who had chained him to a wall and raped him to exhaustion, but suddenly he couldn't help feeling he was the dirty one of the two. A monster even in human form, like Severus said, unable and perhaps unwilling to completely repress the filthy creature in him. Even at his best.
"Everything I'm doing is to protect Potter," continued Severus, his eyes narrowing as he regarded Remus with suspicion, "so if there is some place inside the castle where I can meet with the brat in private without our adjacent dots appearing in that bloody map, you better tell me now."
Pushing away his shame and self-disgust, Remus tried to focus on the map issue again, now more perplexed than before as to why Severus kept bringing it up.
"What do you mean?" he asked in confusion. "Harry has the map, so it doesn't matter where you meet-"
"Potter does not have the map," cut him off Severus. "Someone else in Hogwarts does, however. Most likely some other Death Eater, instructed to keep an eye on me and report all my movements to the Dark Lord. The same infiltrated agent who entered Potter into the Tournament, and who will try to kill or kidnap the boy when the Goblet of Fire turns off."
Remus felt deeply concerned by the possibility that the Marauder's Map might have fallen in bad hands. Just when there was someone inside Hogwarts trying to harm Harry, someone who had already killed Bartemius Crouch and who was still around despite the combined vigilance of Dumbledore, Moody and Severus.
"Are you sure someone else has it?" he asked gravely. "Did you ask Harry? I gave it to him, last year, it should be in his possession."
"Apparently he lost it, or gave it away, or left it lying around for anyone to steal, like the moron he is. He refused to say what happened to it, but he doesn't have it anymore."
"He probably still has it and lied to you about it," suggested Remus. "Sirius and James would have been outraged if the map fell into your hands, and until yesterday Harry's loyalty was with them so he would have lied to keep it from you. His answer might be different if you asked again now, though."
"His answer would be the same," disagreed Severus, his mouth curling in that way it always did when he talked about Gryffindors, "even if he did have the map. Potter would never surrender such a useful tool for mischief willingly."
"He might surprize you," said Remus, wondering again what sort of interest the man might have in Harry. He clearly despised him as much as he ever had, but he was intent on protecting him anyway, and his speech before had been too fervorous for someone who didn't care about the boy in some personal way. If he wanted him as a future sexual partner, though, he would be grooming him for it, not insulting him at every turn and encouraging him to find dates for balls. And if he wanted to usurp James' place as the boy's father he would have tried to win him over, to get close instead of keeping him at arm's length and promoting his hate. It didn't make any sense.
Remus sighed inwardly.
"Harry knows that you're protecting him," he went on, giving up on figuring out Severus' motivations, "so he will trust you if you tell him it's for his own safety. And after tonight I'm certain that he despises the Marauders just as much as you do, so I doubt he will want to keep the map anyway. He might even give it to you just to spite Sirius and James."
Severus scoffed.
"You live more out of touch with Reality than I had thought, wolf," he said derisively. "Hell will freeze over before Potter does anything against his two greatest heroes."
"I assure you they are the farthest thing from heroes to him now," said Remus. "Harry is angry at Sirius for that deadly prank he pulled on you as students, and he's disappointed with James for not having saved your life as selflessly as he had thought he had. He's also angry at Dumbledore for having told him that you owed James a life debt when you don't really owe him anything."
"Potter has long known all those facts," argued Severus, "and it didn't stop him from idolizing Black and holding his prick of a father on a pedestal. Only a few months ago he was defending them as if they were the purest of victims, bristling at the slightest insult thrown their way."
"He no longer idolizes them, Severus, and he won't accept any defence of them. Harry understands things better now, and he's angry at all those who led him to believe that James and Sirius were better people than they actually were. He certainly despises me for not having stood up to them when they bullied you, and he thinks Lily was a terrible person because she married James. Right now he's angry at everyone except you."
"I very much doubt that," drawled Severus. "More likely the brat is just angry because he learned things about his father and godfather that he would rather not know. But no worries, Potter will quickly find a way to turn things around in his head so I end up the bastard of his Gryffindor fairy tale, as always."
"Harry won't shrug this off, Severus. He can't ignore what he knows now-"
"Oh yes he can. Potter is an expert in shrugging off unpleasant truths. Whatever you have told him, he'll pick only the parts that he can use against me and deny everything else. You'll see. No matter how atrocious the actions of his father, he will convince himself that it was justified, that I deserved to be beaten up and humiliated."
"You couldn't be more wrong, Severus. Harry doesn't think that way at all, he-"
"I know Potter better than you do, Lupin, and I know how his prejudiced little mind works. I was a nasty Slytherin who grew up to be an evil Death Eater, so of course I deserved whatever a bunch of noble Gryffindors saw fit to do to me. And of course I followed Black on my own accord, so it was my fault that I almost got killed, and I should be grateful that the valiant James Potter came to my re-"
"Can't you bloody listen for once in your life?!" snapped Remus, feeling a very familiar urge to punch the infuriating Slytherin. "Everything bounces off you! This is important, and you're not listening-"
"I DON'T WANT TO LISTEN! I DON'T WANT TO KNOW WHAT LIES YOU'VE TOLD THE BRAT ABOUT ME!"
"I didn't lie! I told him the truth, Severus, how things really were between you and James and Sirius!"
"Sure you did!" snarled Severus. "The truth tends to be slightly different depending on where you're standing, though. From your perspective, Potter and Black were the bravest, cleverest, funniest students in the school, charming everyone with their antics and taking their furry pet for harmless strolls around the grounds every full moon. Such good friends, such idyllic times..."
"That's not-"
"I heard you last year in the Shrieking Shack, Lupin! I know how you choose to remember the past, and I know what sort of tale you've spun for Potter! You told the boy that I was jealous of James' Quidditch talent. As if I had no good reason to hate his guts! You made Potter sound like a bloody hero, and Black like an innocent prankster!"
"I know!" exclaimed Remus desperately, feeling the weight of guilt and shame crushing him down. "I know! It was wrong of me, and I'm sorry!"
"YOU CAN SHOVE YOUR USELESS APOLOGY UP YOUR ARSE!" roared Severus. "OR I'LL SHOVE IT FOR YOU, IF YOU DON'T SHUT THE FUCK UP!"
Before Remus could say anything else, the Death Eater leaned over and snorted one of the lines of cocaine he had fastidiously prepared. Straightening himself up, he rubbed his sizeable nose and made a face before leaning over again and snorting another line, which seemed to hit him much harder judging by the unintelligible expletive he let out.
There were more lines waiting to be inhaled, but Severus must be saving them for later because he reached for the whisky bottle instead and took a swallow straight from it before leaning back in his chair, eyes closed and nose twitching while he waited for the drug to kick in.
On his side of the cell, Remus was shocked speechless. He had known this was coming, obviously, but somehow he had managed to forget his situation while they argued, the normality of their shouting match giving him the illusion that this was just another frustrating argument with his irrational colleague. He had forgotten that he was naked and tethered to a wall, bleeding, aching, knowing too much and completely at Severus' mercy. Suddenly, though, he was acutely aware of the silver shackles burning his wrists, of the smell of his own blood pooling around him, of his irritated arse that absolutely rejected another intrusion so soon.
And he wanted to kick himself for having made Severus even more angry while the man was preparing himself to inhale cocaine. Idiot. It was ironic that after an entire lifetime consistently keeping quiet when he should have spoken up, it was his big mouth what would finish his life. He had never said anything when it could have made a difference, when at most the cost of speaking up might have been losing his friends —friends that in retrospect were not worth keeping—, but now that nothing he said could make either Harry or Severus listen he couldn't stop blabbing, even if it cost him everything.
As he waited for his aggrieved schoolmate to get on with things, though, Remus couldn't help feeling a small sliver of hope. Not for himself, but for Harry. Because he knew that Severus would try his damnest to protect the boy, even if he despised him, and having a powerful dark wizard on his side would significantly increase Harry's chances of winning the upcoming war. And also because in their latest argument Severus had spoken as if the boy would remember everything he had learned tonight, implying that Harry might get to retain his memories after all. Perhaps Severus had realized that obliviating the boy would not be so simple, since his target must be already back in Gryffindor tower and some agent of Voldemort might be tracking Severus' movements with the Marauder's Map. Or perhaps he didn't trust himself to do it while he was intoxicated, and knew that tomorrow might be already too late to keep the information from spreading —especially since Harry hadn't been alone out in the grounds, but with his fellow champions, all of whom had met Remus and heard part of their argument.
Severus might not like it, but he might have no choice but to deal with a Harry who knew, and Remus was convinced that an understanding between the two would be good in the long term, even if it caused some trouble now.
He only regretted that he would not be around for the long term. He would not get the chance to fix things with Harry, to explain, to earn his forgiveness. To earn Severus' forgiveness.
Regret. At the end of his life, all Remus had was regrets. So much regret. So many wrong choices, so many chances he had wasted, mistakes he had made, moments when he could have done the right thing but had been too afraid, crossroads where he had just stood and watched while people lost their ways right in front of his eyes.
If he had done his duty as a Prefect... If he had stood up to James and Sirius... If he had paid more attention to Peter... If he had ever told the truth to Lily...
The sound of tinkling glass broke through Remus' regretful thoughts and brought his attention back to Severus, who had extracted several phials from his other pocket and was gulping them down one after another. Remus assumed they were fortifying potions of some kind, perhaps energy boosters or sexual stimulants, all washed down with more whisky of course. He was certain that a regular man —even a regular wizard— would have already succumbed to multi-organic failure after all the drugs Severus had taken, even without adding heroin to the mix. But Dark Magic wasn't so popular for nothing. Just as werewolves were a lot tougher than humans, dark wizards were much harder to kill than light ones. And just as Remus was still conscious and lucid despite all the blood he had lost, Severus was still alive and well despite all the substances wreaking havoc inside him —he actually looked much more than just well, the very image of life and vigour and power as he purposely climbed back to his feet and fixed his dark, predatory eyes on Remus.
Damn.
A dark wizard on cocaine was a truly frightening thing. They were usually smarter than showing up at battles intoxicated, but Remus had had to deal with more than a few in various settings, so he knew what a dangerous combination it was. And Severus wasn't an ordinary dark wizard, nor a random bastard Remus had no personal feud with, but a very powerful, unforgiving Death Eater who justifiably blamed him for everything that had gone wrong in his life.
And who had total control over him.
The previous time, Remus had been expecting torture, so Severus' cock had taken him quite by surprize. This time he was expecting rape, so he was again caught off balance when, instead of getting right to it, Severus proceeded to set things up for what looked to be the most painful foreplay session ever.
Just as he had guessed, the leather bundle did contain an array of silver weapons and other sinistrous instruments, all in silver. And as he had feared, the brazier did have a nefarious purpose. Remus watched with trepidation as Severus selected four identical knives, pocket-sized and with ominous bird's peak blades meant for precision work, and carefully arranged them over the burning brazier. While he waited for his torture tools to heat up, the hyperenergetic Potions Master went to fetch the black coffer he had brought in earlier, which turned out to contain a collection of poisons and other anti-werewolf substances judging by the repulsive smells that came ouf of it.
"Get up and turn around!" barked the Death Eater as he fished out a pair of blue latex gloves and put them on. "Hands against the wall."
Remus knew that he didn't have any choice about this, and that just like the rape it would go easier if he didn't resist, but the sight of Severus heating up knives and handling potions so nasty that required gloves filled him with such an intense sense of foreboding that he just couldn't move.
"Please, Severus," he pleaded. "Just kill me. You've already beat me down, there's no need for-"
"Crucio!"
The Cruciatus Curse wasn't nearly as painful as the werewolf transformation, but it wasn't a pleasant experience either, and after so many years without exposure it felt much worse than he remembered —not to mention that Severus' Cruciatus seemed far stronger than average. It also took him longer to recover, being currently injured and weakened by severe blood loss, so his torturer had no trouble manoeuvring his twitching body however he wanted, helped along by all the drugs he had taken plus some magical assistance.
Next thing he knew, Remus was lying face down across the cot again, but his chains had been rearranged so his arms were open like a crux instead of stretched forward, and there were additional restraints holding him down now. The extra chains, shackles and collar weren't silver, weren't even real metal since Severus had conjured them up, but Remus was in no state to fight against them either and saw no point in even trying. There was no way out of this, no escape, nothing he could say to dissuade his resentful schoolmate from carrying out whatever plans he had for him.
Remus had never felt so helpless and powerless, so open and exposed. Even before, when Severus had brutally sodomized him, he had at least had some mobility, some possibility of resistance if he had wanted to try. Now he was completely restrained, he couldn't do anything besides clenching his arse and biting his tongue. And yet...
And yet, he didn't feel humiliated. His position was humiliating, and this whole situation was a horrible nightmare, but at least Severus hadn't mocked him nor ridiculed him once, hadn't taunted him nor even commented on his pathetic defeat. Inside this cage, his former colleague had only spoken to give harsh commands, and while he was visibly euphoric due to the cocaine Remus knew that he wasn't enjoying this the way James would have if Severus had been the victim.
That was the sobering thought that allowed Remus to accept and even embrace the pain to come.
When pain came, though, his remorseful acceptance and long-developed tolerance proved not to be enough to bear it with aplomb.
It wasn't really the carving that hurt —although having a sharp silver knife buried into his back and twisting about was no fun.
It wasn't the burning that really got to him either —although the smell of his own cooked flesh was stomach-turning to say the least.
What really hurt, hurt so much that Remus found himself screaming louder than under the Cruciatus, were the potions. The tinctures, or essences, or whatever it was that Severus poured into the wounds every so often, making him burn in a way that nothing had before.
"Bloody hell," he rasped after the third time he experienced that particular torture, his voice hoarse from screaming. "What the fuck is that-"
"Quiet!" snapped the Death Eater. "And keep still!"
As his torturer exchanged knives, placing the bloody one back on the brazier and picking one recently heated, Remus gritted his teeth and wrapped his fingers around the silver chains, bracing himself for more pain. He couldn't help screaming again when the excruciating potion was once more poured into his open flesh, though, nor could he help squirming and trying to break free from the chains, useless as his attempts were.
"Damn you, Severus!" he growled. "You sadistic fucker! Does this turn you on you sick bastard?"
Severus let out a harsh laugh, and Remus felt him press against his backside in response, his erection unmistakable through the fabric of his trousers.
"Don't tell me you wouldn't be hard in my place, mongrel," he said as he changed knives again. "I know Greyback would, and you must have fucked him quite thoroughly to get where you are."
"It's not the sa-"
Remus forgot what he had been about to say when the hot blade made contact with his skin again, burying itself deep into the muscle and starting to trace some sort of shape right next to the last one.
"Are you fucking writing on my back?" he snarled when the carving knife finally left his flesh.
"Yes," said Severus unashamedly as he reached for the toxic potion again. "Which is why you must remain still. It's not easy to write on a moving-"
Severus cut himself off abruptly. Remus felt him go rigid, and glancing over his shoulder he saw him staring intensely at the door, his expression alert and focused as if listening for distant threats.
Whatever had drawn the Slytherin's attention, though, wasn't so far away.
Knock, knock, knock, knock.
They were both frozen, struck still and silent like statues in their respectively compromising positions. Tensed seconds ticked by with no sound besides the soft crackling of the flames in the brazier, no movement besides that of Remus' blood slowly trickling down his leg.
And then it came again.
Knock, knock, knock, knock.
"Open the door, Severus," said the authoritative voice of Albus Dumbledore. "Now."