A/N: Again, content warning. Graphic depictions of sex and torture. This is the last chapter with this sort of explicit content, at least for a while.

Chapter 76

"This..." hissed Severus as he buried the searing knife in Remus' forearm, "is what I feel every time you say the bloody name." He twisted the blade, sending sharp jolts of burning pain up and down his arm. "You have said it at least fifteen times tonight. So liberal in your defiance..." Remus almost slumped in relief when he felt the metal leave his flesh, only to gasp again a few seconds later when Severus started the process all over again, burying another red-hot knife half an inch below. "That's what got your dear friend Potter killed, you know? He and Lily defied the Dark Lord one too many times, made themselves such annoying thorns in his side that he jumped at the excuse to target them personally." Severus changed blades again and began to carve another shape around the previous cuts. "Defiance will get you killed as well, if you don't show the Dark Lord the proper respect when you meet him. And it won't get you any support amongst the werewolves either. You should know that most of your kind don't like nor trust Dumbledore, they don't appreciate being judged and censured for their dark ways, and you calling the Dark Lord by his name makes your allegiance to the old fool obvious."

Having a burning silver knife cutting through the nerves, vessels and muscles in his inner arm hurt hell of a lot more than all the cuts on his back combined had hurt, but more than that, it was a pain of such nature that Remus couldn't just take it quietly, terrified that he would lose functionality of his hand if the tendons were severed. All his swearing and desperate pleading fell in deaf ears, however, eliciting nothing but an evil chuckle in response, and trying to wrestle his arm free from the iron grasp of his potion-fortified torturer proved a fruitless effort as well.

"Your Gryffindor high-mindedness will also get you killed," raved on Severus as he butchered his forearm with vicious precision. "If you grant mercy to the likes of Greyback, mercy will come back to bite you in the arse Just as it will cost you dearly if you hesitate to kill anyone who shows up at your den bearing this mark."

The Death Eater held up his artwork for Remus to see. There, crudely sketched on his bleeding, smoking arm, was now a gruesome replica of the tattoo Severus bore on his own arm, both skulls staring pitilessly at Remus with their empty eye-sockets. Except that Severus' wasn't a simply tattoo, realized Remus with a mixture of revulsion and horror, but an actual brand, a permanent mark of ownership, likely carved and cursed into his flesh by Voldemort himself.

Remus' mind was reeling with questions and concerns, but a simple glance at Severus told him that voicing them would be a bad idea at the moment. For it was plain that the cocaine had already taken full effect, and those sadistic dark eyes were looking at him in a way that reminded him of a predator stalking a prey, hungering for fresh meat, waiting for its helpless target to make some movement or sound that would trigger his killing instincts.

Keeping still and quiet wasn't enough to hold off the threat, though, not when the predator already had him in its clutches, when the beast had already been provoked and sent into a frenzy by the smell of blood. Next thing he knew, Remus was being roughly manoeuvred into a new position, or more exactly back to his previous position, face down across the hateful cot, not completely restrained this time but still tethered to the wall by his right-hand chain. His left arm was still free, but between the pain and the nerve damage Remus could barely move it, never mind use it for pointless self-defence, so he let it hang limply by his side, averting his face to spare himself the grisly sight.

He hadn't really considered what the change of position might mean until the soft brush of fingers on his back, tracing the tender lines of his freshly carved tattoo, made him remember his insistence that Severus erased the message somehow. Damn. Was Severus going to flay the entire area, like he had foolishly suggested? Pour that corrosive substance all over his back? Remus tensed up in fearful anticipation at the prospect, cursing himself for giving a damn what happened to his sadistic schoolmate.

"It will also go badly for you if you defy me, Lupin," said the Death Eater in a darkly threatening tone, raking his fingers along the still raw inscription. "If you forget your place." Severus interrupted his tactful exploration and began rummaging into his pockets, judging by the sound of rustling fabric, probably reaching for his wand or some extra potion. "Worse: if you disobey my instructions or act against me in any way, it will go badly for Potter."

Having expected the next surge of pain to come from his back, Remus cried out in agonized surprize when instead Severus suddenly grabbed his injured arm and roughly twisted it behind his back, holding it there while he moved behind him likely preparing some instrument of torture. Was he going to pour that poisonous tincture into his latest carving as well? Brand a permanent Dark Mark on his arm as if he were a Voldemort supporter?

"But go ahead, wolf, call the Headmaster if you want," challenged Severus. "It's not as if I really care what happens to the boy. I'm actually getting sick of being the only one prioritizing Potter's life, the only one willing to do whatever it takes to ensure his survival. So go ahead, call him, tell the old man everything, get me fired or arrested..."

"I have no intention of exposing you, Severus, I'm not going to tell Dumbledore-"

For the second time that night, Remus was taken by surprize by Severus' cock. He really should have seen it coming, but once again he had been led to expect a different sort of punishment, so the second violation came as much as a shock as the first one had, the phallic weapon driving into him without any warning nor preparation, ruthlessly tearing him apart and burying itself to the hilt in one brutal thrust that knocked the air out of his lungs.

"Call him," growled the Death Eater, breathing heavily as he settled himself inside him, the wriggling motion sending jolts of searing pain radiating in all directions. "I bet he'll enjoy watching the show, the old creep. He will sit right there, in that chair, drooling at the sight and reminiscing old times while he awaits my pleasure." Severus withdrew all the way out, and slid back in, this time making him feel each intrusive inch as he slowly refilled him. "Call Dumbledore, if you trust him so much," he growled again. "You can take the chance to ask him why he cares so little about the boy." The next thrust came faster and harder, but didn't hurt quite so much now that his arse had adjusted somewhat. "Ask him why he insists on exposing him to danger, ignoring my advice over and over again."

As Remus felt the smooth shaft retreat, he realized that this time Severus had used proper lubrication, and noticed with inadmissible appreciation that it really made all the difference. The leisured pace also made the experience much more bearable, he reflected dazedly as his arse was slowly stretched and filled to the brim once again, the penetration so carefully measured and unhurried that Remus barely felt any pain. Getting fucked wasn't nearly so unpleasant when things progressed this fluidly...

"You can ask him why he's so willing to sacrifice us for the Greater Good," growled on Severus as he drew back and thrust back in, hitting some spot on the way that made Remus see stars, "why you, me, Hagrid must risk our lives for the cause, while the great Albus Dumbledore is not willing to die for the Boy-Who-Lived." Withdrawing again until only the tip of his slick cock remained inside, Severus twisted a hand into Remus' hair and fisted it, his other hand releasing his mangled arm in favour of taking a firm hold of his hip. "Ask him who does he expect to defeat the Dark Lord, if the child prophesized to do it dies before he can fulfill his destiny."

"Prophesized?" gasped Remus in shock, forgetting for a moment all about his literally fucked-up situation. "Harry is prophesized to defeat Voldemort?"

It was as if Severus had been waiting for him to say the name to really get started. He certainly had readied himself to lunge, and lunged he did, plunging back inside with bone-crushing momentum that could have very well broken something if Remus were a normal human. Rough fingers pierced his flesh as the Death Eater bounced back and rammed into him again, pulling his hair so hard that for a moment that was the only pain he felt, his cry turned into a choked groan when Severus lunged again without giving him any respite.

And Again. And again. And Again.

The rest was mad, wild, mindless abandon, furious hammering that seemed as much aimed to destroy as to self-destruct, unrestrained pounding that could have gone on for hours if the cocaine boost hadn't worn off much sooner. It was all Remus could do to clench his jaw and wait out the onslaught, his world reduced to a grunted cacophony of merciless pummelling and mounting frustration, the urge to reach for his own cock harder and harder to resist with each wicked thrust-

"What the hell is taking you so long, mongrel?" barked Severus through the bathroom door, snapping Remus out of his flashback. "Unlike you, I have to work in the mornings, so stop dawdling!"

"I'm coming!" rasped back Remus, immediately regretting his choice of words and hoping Severus would not misinterpret them. Not that it would be an off-the-mark interpretation, seeing that Remus had seriously considered to jerk off, but Severus seemed like the type of control freak who would punish him for coming without permission so he would rather avoid his suspicion entirely.

"You better not touch anything in there! If I find you went through my stuff-"

"I won't!" cut him off Remus with exasperation. "I'm not going to touch anything, Severus. Just give me a minute, please."

Severus issued one last threat and stalked off in a huff, granting Remus a few more moments to put himself together. He had already cleaned up as well as he could without taking an unauthorized shower, but he didn't feel nearly ready to abandon the temporal sanctuary of the bathroom. Severus seemed to be done with him, if only because he didn't have time to entertain him any further, but even if Remus was safe from that front this night wasn't yet over for him. He still had to meet with Dumbledore, and after everything that had happened tonight, after everything he had learned and agreed to keep secret from the old wizard, Remus was rather terrified of that meeting. He had half a mind to skive off, walk out of the dungeons and head straight for the Whomping Willow without so much as a by-your-leave to the Headmaster, but he knew that Severus might get in trouble if he failed to deliver his 'guest' in one piece, so he had no choice but to keep the appointment.

Heaving a sigh, Remus cast a last glance over his shoulder, reassuring himself again that the inscription reflected by the mirror held no discernible meaning for regular mortals, and proceeded to dress himself, the simply task rendered clumsy and painful due to the partial disability of his left arm —Severus either had not been able, or had not been inclined to heal the damage, opting instead for simply wrapping up his forearm and instructing him not to let anyone see it. So Remus would likely be stuck with this ugly mark until the next full moon, which he supposed he deserved, if it was true that Severus experienced a similar pain every time he heard Voldemort's name —carrying this painful reminder for two weeks in retribution for the fifteen times he had caused him pain seemed fair.

All right, it was an excessive punishment, but even so, Remus couldn't bring himself to resent his old schoolmate for it. For anything, really. He actually felt distinctively lucky to have come out of this ordeal alive and mostly whole, with his head, limbs, tongue and memories all still attached and no more lasting damage than an unreadable tattoo on his back. Considering his numerous mistakes and offenses, all the ways in which he had provoked and annoyed Severus tonight, it definitely could be said that he had been let off easy. He had even benefitted from the whole experience, gained invaluable knowledge and life-saving advantages that made him feel conflictingly grateful to his torturer and rapist.

And he felt conflictingly ashamed, too, for having assumed the worst of Severus at multiple points tonight. For moments, he had believed him capable of hurting and abusing a child, of delivering either his head or his mutilated body to Voldemort, of committing torture and rape just for the vindictive pleasure of it. But Remus should have known better. Severus was sadistic and depraved, but there were limits he would not cross, and limits that he would only cross for justifiable reasons. Even at his worst, he was fair and disciplined, coldly calculating and strategic even under the influence of cocaine, remarkably self-restrained considering all the rage he had to restrain. Everything he did seemed to have a point or a purpose that went beyond the simple gratification of some vengeful or sexual desire. Even the last round of rape...

Remus leaned against the bathroom sink and took a deep breath, feeling his arse throb and spasm as if he still had a phantom cock shoved inside, missing the occupying pressure despite himself. The soreness and discomfort was similar to what he had felt after the first time, if not even more crippling, but completely different in that it had left him aching for more instead of wishing for obliviation. He knew it didn't mean anything that he could get aroused being buggered, that it was just an involuntary response to the physical stimulation of his prostate —which Severus had hit a great many times—, but it still perturbed him, enough to make him question his own sexual orientation. Which no doubt had been Severus' intention, at least part of the reason why he had fucked him the way he had the second time: to shame him, force his body to respond, made him want for it... and leave him frustrated in addition to confused and mortified.

It might seem like an act of pure evilness, but Remus knew that, like most everything else Severus had done to him tonight, there had been a strategic motivation behind it. Sex was a very powerful tool, and plainly Severus knew how to use it to get a point across, to communicate a message more effectively than mere words ever could.

You're my bitch.

After their conversation about binding rituals, Remus had naively let himself believe that the sexual claim had been a one-time act, a distasteful but necessary display of dominance that Severus had had no intention to repeat. That's why the second assault had taken him by surprize. Now, though, he understood that the message on his back wasn't only for Voldemort, but for himself as well, and that it wasn't only meant to protect his arse from other claimants, but also to remind Remus of 'his place', which was now at the receiving end of Severus' cock. The last episode of sex had been a way to inform him that he was going to get screwed if he defied, disobeyed or threatened his new handler, and also a way to impress on him that just as the experience could be painful, it could be bearable and even pleasurable, and it would likely be up to Remus how it went in the future.

Not a future he was excessively looking forward to, but it seemed a price worth paying for the protection Severus had given him, and when he considered the alternative, Remus didn't even have to think about it: if he had to be someone's bitch, he much preferred to be Severus' than Voldemort's. Not only because he knew Severus would try to use his claim to protect people rather than slaughter them, but also because the mere idea of being raped by Voldemort made him want to throw up, while getting screwed by his old schoolmate felt like a well-deserved punishment. And it wasn't really all that bad, with proper lubrication. Still not an experience he would like to repeat every day —open as he was to sexual experimentation, he didn't like being forced into things—, but his arse would be out of Severus' reach most of the time in the future so he wasn't likely to get fucked very often. He might even be able to avoid the predicament entirely, if he was careful not to provoke the volatile Slytherin —despite being obvious that Severus enjoyed buggering him, Remus knew that he would not do it again without a good justification, no matter how high or horny he might be. The problem was that, prickly and selectively rational as he was, Severus might view the slightest annoyance as a 'good justification' to indulge his darkest desires, and decide to fuck him every time he saw him just because he saw him...

Remus shook his head and pulled himself upright, chiding himself for his lack of prioritization. Getting occasionally fucked by Severus would be the least of his problems. He should worry more about getting screwed by anyone else, starting by Garrick, Wagstaff, Mugsbane, Fenrir if he dared to come back, the alpha of that French pack threatening to cross the channel, Voldemort... Everyone wanted to fuck him, apparently. Or kill him. Perhaps Severus was right in that he shouldn't have let Fenrir walk away, and that it would be wise to pre-emptively kill certain members of his pack before they could betray or displace him. It went against werewolf law to kill in cold blood a werewolf that had chosen to submit or leave instead of fighting, but Remus was already breaking the law by reporting the pack's movements to Dumbledore, so that wasn't really why he resisted to do it. The truth was that he didn't want to kill if he could help it, didn't want to be the one to make the decision of finishing a life, preferring to leave to the others whether they fought to death or not. If he was even more honest with himself, it was also part of the truth that he didn't want to set the precedent for others to kill him if he ever found himself in that precarious position, overthrown by another alpha and wishing to leave the pack or live under someone else's rule. He knew it was unlikely that someone like Wagstaff would spare him, if he managed to overpower him, but he could always hope, just as he hoped Voldemort would want to keep him alive if he ever caught him. Remus would have expected that psychopath to directly kill him and send Fenrir to reclaim the pack, but Severus seemed to think there was a good chance he would prefer him in charge, even if his allegiance was questionable at best —which made sense, seeing that Fenrir was something of a loose cannon, and Remus was much more powerful as a wizard, not to mention more dominant and fearsome as a wolf. Remus could certainly organize and lead the werewolves into war much better than Fenrir, bringing along a greater number without needing to leave all the females behind, and if Voldemort was half-aware of Severus' ability to twist people around he might be content to leave the issue of his loyalty to him. The question was whether Dumbledore would approve of any of this. Of course Remus wasn't going to show him the inscription on his back, but the Headmaster already suspected what had been going on down here, and he might realize the significance if Remus told him that he was the new alpha. What would the old man do, if he thought Severus —whom he currently mistrusted— was planning to deliver the entire British population of werewolves to Voldemort?

"LUPIN!"

Remus nearly jumped out of his skin, a surge of fear rushing through his entire body in response to the angry shout. Terrible flashbacks of everything he had gone through tonight threatened to overwhelm him, but he pushed it all away, determined not to let Severus become another monster haunting his subconscious. Severus wasn't a monster, he was just a deeply traumatized man struggling with the demons of his past under a lot of pressure. Trying to protect people he despised, facing a grim future filled with torture and death, resourcing to drugs to escape the horror and fear. Perhaps Remus should resent him, but he could only pity him. He certainly couldn't judge him, having his own demons to struggle with, numerous deaths to his name, dark impulses of his own that he wasn't even trying to repress these days. He'd likely get high too as soon as he got out of here, shoot himself with heroin to pass the day, and pick a random female —or male— to fuck tonight, someone unwilling who could use a rough, hard lesson...

"UNLESS YOU'RE DEAD, YOU BETTER COME OUT IN THE NEXT TEN SECONDS, MONGREL!"

Pushing his dark plans to the back of his mind, Remus heaved another sigh and moved to obey, not wanting to give Severus an excuse to fuck him again in the shower or whatever else he might be considering to do when the ten seconds ran out. His first thought when he opened the door, however, was that Severus would have to take a lot of stimulating drugs and fortifying potions to be able to fuck anything in his current condition, and he might not live long enough to finish. He really looked awful, standing in the hallway with an irritated expression on his haggard, sallow face, his crushing exhaustion as plain as the drug-induced tremor in his hands, the overall sight not nearly as imposing and intimidating as normal. His eyes were still sharp and alert, though, both his stance and his wand grip precisely balanced, so Remus knew it would be a mistake to underestimate him even if he looked about to collapse.

"Move!" hissed the Death Eater, waving his wand threateningly to indicate the way. "Any more lingering and you'll be going up to breakfast with my Slytherins. As it is, you will disillusion yourself to get out of the dungeons, and you will confund or obliviate any student who might recognize you."

Remus nodded, surprized that Severus would give him leave to mess with the brains of his students but understanding the need for discretion. Adding scandalous school gossip to everything else the man was dealing with would be a sure way to send him completely over the edge. Not to mention that it would make Voldemort suspect about the binding ritual if word of their presumed sexual activities reached him.

"If you run across Moody and he asks you what you were doing down here, tell him it's confidential business," further instructed Severus as they followed Remus' blood trail back to the wrecked sitting room. "Mention Dumbledore, tell him he should ask the old fool if he wants to know. Then tell Dumbledore to keep his mouth shut if he doesn't want to be one Auror short before the war even starts."

"That won't be necessary," said Remus uneasily. "I have my own reasons to want to avoid Moody, now that my condition is public knowledge, I'll turn the opposite way if I smell him."

"Moody is not so easy to avoid, mongrel, he can see through walls and Disillusionment Charms with that blasted eye, so your nose won't give you much of an advantage. Besides, there is a possibility that Potter has given the Map to him, to facilitate my harassment, so he might be keeping watch from his bed and rush to intercept you when he spots you prowling the dungeons." They came to a stop when they reached what looked like the main exit of the sumptuous quarters, and stood facing each other with a safe distance between them. "Skeeter has already planted the suspicion that I might have been colluding with Black last year, giving him access to the castle so he could get to Potter. If Moody sees you emerging from my living area, after possibly having seen us together in my lab, he will immediately assume I'm now helping dark creatures infiltrate the school as well. If he saw you with Potter earlier, he will definitely suspect you might be the mole in our midst, like I suspected at first, sent by the Dark Lord to make contact with me and decide together who will kidnap or kill the boy if he survives the Third Task."

Remus took a deep breath and rubbed his face with his good hand, trying to quell the anxiety rising inside him. He was beginning to understand why Severus was so stressed out. If Remus felt panicked at the mere thought of being cornered and interrogated by a very suspicious Auror on his way to Dumbledore's office, he couldn't imagine what it would be like to live under the same roof all the time, constantly harassed and mistrusted by his own allies while fearing to be contacted by some fellow Death Eater who might pass along the instruction of killing Harry at the first opportunity.

"Well," he said after a moment, trying to focus on the positive, "at least it's better if someone on our side has the map."

"Oh, yes, so much better," drawled Severus, his voice dripping sarcasm. "Of course, Potter's chances of survival decrease significantly if my every movement is being reported to the Headmaster, but who cares? Anyway," he said waving his hand as if swatting away an annoying fly, "Moody having the map is only a small possibility. The fact that he didn't identify the intruder who killed Crouch and his elf is actually near confirmation that he doesn't have it. But you might still run into him, so be ready to fend off his inquiries. If you run into someone else who seems to know where you are despite being disillusioned, take a good look of his or her face and owl me the memory later. Warn me too if you screw up the meeting with Dumbledore."

Severus rummaged into his trouser pocket for a few seconds and fished out yet another phial.

"Take this," he said, levitating it to him with a lazy gesture of his hand. "Don't drink it yet, wait until you're about to enter the Headmaster's office."

"What is it?" asked Remus curiously.

"Wit-Sharpening Potion. Dumbledore will try to milk you for information about me. He will want to know what we talked about, what I did to you, how many drugs I took, how out of control I am-"

"I won't compromise you in any way, Severus," assured him Remus, feeling rather insulted that Severus thought he needed mental stimulants to handle a conversation with Dumbledore. "I don't need sharper wits to guarantee that."

"Your brain suffered severe lack of blood mere hours ago, wolf, and you demonstrated your idiocy multiple times tonight, so forgive me if I don't trust your natural wit. Take the damn potion, and think before speaking. Dumbledore will know I have threatened you into silence, so he might try to trick you into revealing more than you intend. And not just about me, but about Potter as well-"

"I won't say anything about Harry either, Severus. Dumbledore will expect me to ask about him, and about the Tournament, but as far as he knows I haven't seen the kid since last year so I won't have much to say."

Severus shook his head.

"He might already know that you met with Potter tonight, before coming here, or he might learn of it later through the boy, so don't hide the fact that you saw him. Just be mindful of what you say, don't mention any suspicions the brat might have about my interference with the Goblet of Fire."

"I don't think Harry suspects you're interfering, he just knows you have been helping him-"

"Same thing," said Severus irritably. "Helping is supposed to be impossible. Dumbledore already knows I've been trying to interfere, but he doesn't know everything I've done, so don't give him reasons to interrogate the brat. Tell him the boy spent half your conversation bitching about me, as usual, questioning my allegiance and denouncing my evilness, while I tried to curse you at the mere mention of his jerk of a father. It is better if the old man believes Potter and I hate each other too much to cooperate, and that I am more likely to deliver the boy to the Dark Lord than to help him."

"Well, that's easy to believe from your side," said Remus, curious to know, but not daring to ask, how Severus had managed to cheat against a magical object that made impossible to cheat. "And Harry did spend half our conversation questioning your allegiance and denouncing your evilness, so I won't have to lie about that. But the boy spent the other half of the conversation taking your side against James and Sirius, denouncing their evilness while defending your right to be yourself and practicing the Dark Arts without being harassed, so it might be a lie difficult to maintain."

Severus seemed temporarily befuddled by his words, unable to respond with neither anger or sarcasm as he normally would by reflex. Remus hoped this meant he had actually listened, for once, and was probably trying to assimilate the concept of a Potter defending a Slytherin and supporting the Dark Arts.

"You will need to speak to Harry, Severus," he said, taking advantage of the man's apparent receptiveness. "I know it's dangerous for you to meet now, but you both need to talk, clear the air between you. I know Harry will want to apologize and thank you for your help, and you should check on him, see how he's coping after what happened tonight. He needs support-"

For the second time that night, Remus felt as if he had been struck by a giant, this time hard in the chest, and flew back to receive a second impact against the wall.

"Damn you!" cursed Severus loudly. "You're screwing with my life, Lupin! I don't want to hear what Potter needs, and it's none of your fucking business anyway! I will handle the boy however I see fit, how many times do I have to say it to get it through your thick skull? You have already made a mess of things, stop making it worse!"

Swallowing a groan, Remus ignored his aching muscles and bones and pushed himself back to his feet.

"I know I messed up, Severus," he said, struggling to hold back his anguish. "I was trying to help, both of you, but I made a mess instead, and I can't take it back! I can't do anything about it except talking to you and asking you please not to push Harry away if he approaches you. He needs-"

Remus winced when Severus pointed his wand at him, but the only effect was a rush of magic that forcefully stuck his tongue to the roof of his mouth. A weird, powerful charm, but nothing that could hold a werewolf's tongue for long.

"I'm seriously concerned about Harry," he continued speaking once he had managed to break the spell, eliciting a look of murderous disbelief from the Slytherin. "And you should take this seriously too, Severus. I understand that you don't really care about Harry, that you just want him to live long enough to defeat Voldemort, but-"

Another whipping motion of Severus' wand, an audible 'crack', and Remus could barely contain the howl of agonizing pain as he cradled his left arm against his body. Damn. He had forgotten how much it hurt to break a bone.

"I guess I deserved that," he muttered through gritted teeth when his heart and breathing rate had normalized enough for him to attempt speech again. "What I'm trying to say is that even if you're only protecting Harry because of the Prophecy, you should care about his mental health. And you do, else you wouldn't have given him Dreamless Sleep and Calming Draughts. You know that emotional stability is essential for survival. And Harry is far from stable now. If he were just upset or angry I wouldn't worry so much, but he seems to be having trouble controlling his magic. Cedric said that he blew up Petunia last year-"

"It wasn't Petunia," corrected Severus irritably. "And he didn't 'blew up' anyone. He just inflated some political aunt over dinner, no big deal."

"No big deal?" repeated Remus incredulously. "Accidental magic at thirteen is not normal, Severus, certainly not so serious magic as inflating a person, even if he didn't kill her. It is a sign of emotional instability, and of aggressiveness. Perhaps if it were an isolated event it could be shrugged off, but that wasn't the first time Harry exhibited violent behaviour. He tried to kill Sirius last year, when he still thought him guilty, beat his face to a pulp-"

"He tried to blow my head off too, just a few weeks ago," interrupted Severus with annoyance. "It is hardly news that Potter is aggressive, he has been attacking people and creatures since he was a first year, probably even before."

"And you don't find that concerning?"

"I find it maddening, since he is always stupid about it and tends to forget he is a bloody wizard in the heat of the moment. But stupidity aside, I would list aggressiveness as a positive trait of Potter, not a flaw. I certainly would be more worried if the child destined to kill the Dark Lord had an issue with violence."

Remus found himself unable to argue with that.

"What about the accidental magic?" he asked, putting a mental pin on the issue of Harry's aggressiveness. "He's fourteen now, almost fifteen, he should have full control of his magic at this age, but tonight he changed the colour of the flames without meaning to, and he seemed annoyed by it rather than surprized or afraid, as if it were something normal for him."

"The Dark Lord is over sixty years old, and last time I saw him flames still changed colours around him when he got angry," said Severus dismissively. "And I doubt anyone would say he has trouble controlling his magic. Unintentional magic might not be normal for the likes of you, Lupin, but it is for wizards of certain calibre. I crystallized my Scotch without meaning it tonight, and I couldn't count the number of times I got scalded for getting angry in the shower, do you think I need emotional support too?"

Remus hesitated, knowing that it would cost him to answer such question truthfully, but at this point he didn't much care what happened to him so he went on:

"You're making my point, Severus. You and You-Know-Who are both powerful wizards, yes, but unintentional magic is not a mark of power, it shouldn't happen at your age either. I'm not saying that you can't control your magic, but you have just admitted that you lose control sometimes, and that's not because you're too powerful, but because you have severe anger issues. It worries me that Harry has the same problem. I understand if you cannot give him emotional support, but I think you will agree that he at least needs to learn to control his emotions, else he might hurt people by accident, or get into trouble with the Ministry, or make himself vulnerable during a fight. And it's not just that. Some aggressiveness might be desirable in his case, but hatred and vindictiveness aren't. Harry is a compassionate person, for the most part, but there is darkness in him too, Severus, your kind of darkness, and if he doesn't learn to control that side of him he might end up in a dark path. I'm sure that's not what you want."

Remus had not expected to be allowed to say so much without interruption, but for some reason Severus let him get it all out. Well, not all, of course. Remus had a lot more to say, but at least he had managed to voice the concerns that had brought him here tonight, and it looked like Severus might have finally listened. There was even hope that Remus would not get tortured or raped again for daring to bring up the man's emotional issues, which was an unbelievable miracle in itself —although that might be just because Severus seemed to have exhausted his reserves of angry energy, judging by the weary sigh he exhaled as he rubbed his eyes tiredly.

"Was Potter alone outside?" asked the Death Eater after a quiet pause, his voice lacking the normal hostility associated to anything Potter.

"No, he was with the other champions," answered Remus immediately.

"Then he has support," said Severus, sounding as if he were trying to convince himself. "Krum, in particular, has a stabilizing effect on the boy, keeps him grounded, and he doesn't tolerate any nonsense so he'll get the brat under control and force his head back into the game. Potter also has his broom and freedom to fly whenever he needs to, which seems to work as some sort of emotional therapy for him. For now, that is enough."

Remus opened his mouth to insist on adult support, but Severus held up a hand indicating that he wasn't done speaking.

"I will keep an eye on the boy, as always," he said, "and I will do what I can to help, if I deem it necessary and if the Goblet allows me. This is not the time to address his emotional issues, however. Bringing up the subject now would only distract him when he should be focusing on the Third Task and nothing else. If he survives the Tournament, I will consider to teach him Occlumency, provided I survive as well. His darkness I have been monitoring for a while, but I might look into it more closely now that he has personal experience with Dark Magic. As to you," said Severus, his eyes and tone hardening, "you will stay away from Potter. Away from Hogwarts. After today, if Dumbledore wants to meet with you, you will do so elsewhere. If I learn you have been talking to the boy again, I will cut off your tongue. If I learn you have written to him, I will cut off your fingers. If you threaten him, or me, in any way ever again, I will kill you."

Severus disabled the wards on his door with a flick of his wand, and waved it open while he rummaged into his pocket again, this time retrieving Remus' wand.

"Now get out!" he snarled, tossing the wand outside as if it were a fetching stick.

And with a last sigh of defeat, his heart both light and heavy after receiving an assurance that someone, if never him, would watch over Harry, Remus went after it.

He found little consolation in the fact that, if he wasn't allowed into Hogwarts ever again, then Severus must not be planning to summon him back whenever he wanted to fuck him. Remus would willingly enter such arrangement if it meant he could remain in Harry's life or at least receive regular updates of what was really going on, but it didn't seem that option was on the table.

Remus couldn't even count on anyone informing him if Harry died in the Third Task.