FIC: Swish (Severus/Remus, 1/1)
Feb. 13th, 2007 02:18 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
salixbabylon(Since I'm getting rid of my website, I'm posting a few super-old fics that were never on LJ.)
Title: Swish
Pairing: Severus Snape/Remus Lupin
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
salixbabylon
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 2879
Disclaimer: Rowling owns everything.
Summary: Severus decides to "mellow out."
Author's Notes: Part of the Severus Snape Fuh-Q Fest - Third Wave (Challenge #20. Snape undergoes a change of character) Thank yous: Always to Cindy Lou. Unending gratitude to betas: Betty and Olivia Lupin.
Swish
"This is the eighth catastrophe that imbecilic boy has caused in the six weeks since term started, Headmaster! Every week it's either an explosion or a meltdown! He's a menace and I refuse to let him back into my classroom!" Snape's eyes were dilated and wild, chest heaving, face flushed.
"Sit down please, Severus," Dumbledore soothed. "Here, have some tea; that will calm you."
Snape barely resisted the urge to fling the cup and saucer across the room. "I don't want to calm down. I want you to tell me that I never have to let that disastrous fool back into my classroom. It's been six years, Headmaster; I don't really think I can bear a seventh!"
Dumbledore smiled indulgently. "Aside from the... mishaps in class, how are the boy's potions? Is he failing your class?"
Snape grudgingly parted his pursed lips to admit, "No. Longbottom is actually managing to create barely acceptable concoctions."
"Well then, if he's not failing, he'll stay in the class." Dumbledore smiled one of his patented twinkling smiles. "Now that that's settled... I should like to encourage you to relax a bit, Severus. As a friend."
Snape snorted. "As a friend?"
"Yes, a friend. Which we are, if perhaps somewhat unconventional ones. You need to calm down. 'Lighten up. Mellow out,' as I believe the students used to say in your day."
Snape twisted his mouth into its usual sneer. "I never said any such thing. Nor do I see a need to 'mellow out.' The students are fools, and Longbottom is a dangerous one. If you do not care for my personality, I suggest you seek another Potions master and spy, and see how amiable a person you can find to fill my shoes. Noxious potions, bored and stupid children, duplicity and danger do not make for an easy-going lifestyle!" Severus spat as he rose out of the chair.
"You're getting overexcited again," Dumbledore commented mildly. "I was merely suggesting that you try to relax. I fear you are in danger of compromising your health. Not to mention having a direct effect on your students' ability to perform well in your classes. Please, as a friend, try to be a bit easier on everyone – yourself included." The old man smiled again. "Just think how such a change would surprise everyone," he twinkled.
Snape's lips twisted into a snarl as he set down his tea and strode to the door. "Good day, Headmaster."
&*&*&*&*&*&*&*
"Fool!" Snape grumbled to himself as he stepped into his bathtub. "'Lighten up' indeed. Who does he think he is-" his words were muffled as he got a mouthful of shampoo. "Fuck!" he sputtered. "What does he want, a staff comprised of Lockharts, smiling and... gleaming all the time? Always nice and helpfully incompetent and giddy? Or like Lupin, always calm, collected, and polite? Idiots."
He stepped out of the tub and began to vigorously towel off. "Simpering, smarmy, acquiescent imbeciles," he growled. He wrapped the towel around his waist and stalked to his living room.
He poured himself some whisky and downed it. Another measure followed, and finally the third managed to quell his wrath. "Daft old bugger. I'll show him. I'll give him what he asks for and see how he likes it, me acting like that..."
A sizeable portion of the rest of the bottle of whisky convinced him this was a good plan and he retired to bed.
&*&*&*&*&*&*&*
Snape skipped breakfast entirely and stood in front of the mirror, practicing smiling.
"Are you all right, dear? Shall I go fetch help?" it asked with concern.
He hexed it into silence and went back to his facial contortions. There, that was it. Just a hint of teeth, eyes crinkled a bit, smoothed-out lines in the forehead. A pleasant expression. Not scary. He memorized how it felt on his face. He unhexed the mirror and waited.
"Yes, that's better," it reluctantly acknowledged.
Snape charmed his beloved ebony robes into an olive green, which did abhorrent things to his complexion. Perhaps a self-tanning potion? No, he wasn't going to go that far. He turned the robes a forest green. Too bright but better. The silver buttons gleamed.
He consulted a book in his study on the way to his private lab, where he quickly brewed the potion Lockhart had reeked of every morning. He finger-combed it through his clean but still lanky hair. After a moment, the mirror reflected a coiffure of lustrous, gleaming hair, not a hint of grey to be seen, full of body and slightly wavy about his shoulders. He wrinkled his nose in distaste. "Don't do that; you look lovely," the mirror chastised. "Is today something special?"
"Yes," Snape answered, "A challenge for a consummate actor."
&*&*&*&*&*&*&*
The students didn't seem to know what to make of him. Non-greasy, non-ugly, non-evil-dark-bastard, and non-... mean. Professor Snape was smiling. Really smiling, not that I've just caught you doing something bad satisfied smile, not the You're going to live to regret this smile preceding detentions filled with unknown horrors, and not the I love my little Death-Eaters-to-Be arse-kissing smirk. It was highly disquieting.
Of course a few students seemed puzzled in a different, if somewhat hormonally predictable, way. The female Weasley kept getting a goofy grin on her face while he lectured, and then catching herself and looking disgusted and confused. Teenagers being what they were, he had been somewhat prepared; he knew he could be a quite attractive man when he tried. He simply chose not to waste it on any of the imbeciles in the castle.
Potter's expression was an amusing combination of shock and lust until Granger whispered not so quietly to stop checking out the professor before anyone else noticed. Snape's fake smile shifted into true amusement when he over-heard that as he wandered around the classroom, evaluating potions. It was quite satisfying to know his suspicions about the sexual preferences of the Boy Who Lived To Annoy Him were correct. Takes one to know one, he thought.
He did get a bit of a shock himself though, as he neared Malfoy's table. The impudent whelp looked him up and down, lingering on his hair, his smile, and the buttons around his groin a bit longer than necessary. Snape's brows rose as the boy winked and carefully licked his lips. Pale pink lips. Snape blinked hard and opened his eyes to see an openly feral grin on the boy's face. He turned away.
So. Potter and Malfoy. Who would have guessed the two most notorious students of this year had yet another thing in common? He was tempted to cackle in glee, but turned it into a somewhat giggly laugh instead. Very reminiscent of Lockhart, he told himself.
But now he had an idea. After being outed by Potter Sr. and Co. in their fifth year, Snape had never bothered to hide his preferences. Of course the students didn't know about his sexuality; to them, he was simply an obnoxious git with nothing between his legs. But today, in honor of the occasion, maybe it was time for some swish, just to throw them.
"Draco, you are amazing," he gushed in a lilting tone of voice that he hadn't used in over a decade. "Perfect! Your potion is simply perfect, as usual. Tell me, is it not enough for you to be the most gorgeous young man in Slytherin? Must you also be brilliant?" He batted his eyelashes.
Malfoy blinked for a moment, fishlike, before he rebounded with, "Well, Sir," in a breathy voice that would have put an asthmatic to shame. "I find it important to be equally talented in all areas. One never knows what one may be called upon to do. I just try to measure up," he finished with a melodramatic wink.
"Oh, you do definitely measure up, Mr. Malfoy," Snape purred, meeting his gaze with an intense stare.
Potter made a sputtering noise from the other side of the classroom. Their audience was clearly riveted and Snape was having the most fun he could remember ever in this classroom, including a brief time when he was student and successfully exploded Black's cauldrons once a week with no trace.
Malfoy made a positively obscene moan to get his attention back. "Do you really think so, Sir? That I measure up? Perhaps we could get together tonight and you could see for yourself?"
Shocked silence filled the classroom.
The bell rang.
Potter nearly knocked down Granger and three others in his rush to flee the classroom. The usual stampede seemed twice as fast as usual; within three heartbeats the room was empty. Snape declared himself deeply amused and the whole charade a success.
&*&*&*&*&*&*&*
As he had known it would, word spread quickly. Students were staring, gaping, and drooling at him. Well, it wasn't his fault they'd never seen a gorgeous man before. Although to be fair, the werewolf wasn't especially hard on the eyes. He hadn't been twenty years ago and he wasn't now. Lupin hadn't the flare for drama Snape had however (or was copying from that primping fool Lockhart anyway). Of the two types, he had definitely chosen the more amusing role model for the day, Snape mused. Kindness would have confused the students, but flamboyance was truly frightening them.
Gods, it was exhausting though. He nipped into his office during a free period just to relax the muscles on his face. They were beginning to cramp up.
He wondered how much longer before Dumbledore came to confront him. Probably a bit more flirting with the students was called for, even though he could barely stomach the idea of hitting on any of the pubescent creatures even vaguely seriously. Bantering with Malfoy had been difficult enough; despite being quite attractive at seventeen, he was still a fawning sycophant. It had been fun, though.
Snape wondered that he even remembered how to flirt, it had been so long since he last used those skills.
Perhaps he and Malfoy could have an encore at dinner, where they could be observed.
There was a knock at his door. He schooled his face back into the toothy grin. "Oh joy - companionship!" he cried, flinging open the door with an affected laugh.
Remus Lupin snorted. "Never been greeted by you like that before."
Snape took a deep breath and ploughed onwards, making sure the door was open and that his voice was loud enough for anyone to hear. "Darling Remus, to what do I owe the pleasure of your visit? Could you smell from all the way upstairs that I was pining away in want of your company?"
Lupin gazed at him penetratingly. A surprisingly easy, comfortable silence filled the small office. "Let me guess. Dumbledore suggested a change of attitude and this is your revenge?"
Snape tried very hard not to let his jaw drop but his eyes still bugged out somewhat. He closed the door. "Do you doubt my sincerity?" he asked in his usual voice, silky and biting. Ah, how he loved his maliciousness. Who knew how much he would miss it after only four hours? Nostalgia swept over him for a moment.
Lupin was smiling slightly. "A leopard cannot change his spots overnight."
A delicious sneer crossed Snape's face. "You'd know, wouldn't you, Werewolf?"
The other man's smile remained, but his eyes flickered briefly. He recovered and rejoined with a simple, "Yes, I would," as he opened the door and exited.
Snape sat for a few minutes longer and tried to regroup. Nothing had changed. Don't let that beast unsettle you, he thought. With his penetrating eyes. Hazel eyes. Soulful and entrancing. He'd never noticed what beautiful eyes the man had before. He guessed he'd always been too distracted by his nice build or maybe the fact that he was an incredibly intelligent Dark Creature. Whichever.
&*&*&*&*&*&*&*
As the day progressed, Snape got more and more annoyed with his own game. People smiled back at him and some students even dared to joke. One girl tried to read a magazine in his class! Had they forgotten who he was? Were they simpletons? Yet he couldn't release the anger he felt building inside him without blowing the whole thing. Just make it to dinner, he kept telling himself.
The more frustrated he became, the bigger and broader and more teeth his smiles showed. The more he wanted to yell and shout, the more he simpered and pranced. The evening break found him tossing his hair around and explaining the potion to a surprisingly chatty Ravenclaw seventh-year. As the boy walked away he found himself wondering what was hidden under that robe.
Snape briefly wondered if his new persona had acquired a life of his own and a teensy flicker of sympathy for Lockhart surfaced before he squashed it firmly.
Finally, dinnertime arrived. The one meal everyone was required to attend unless they had a very good excuse. Which meant that Dumbledore would be there, and had undoubtedly already heard the whispers and gossip flying through the castle all day.
Snape nipped back to his rooms and reapplied his hair potion. After a moment's debate he also had a quick swallow of last night's whisky, for fortitude. The whole thing would be so much easier drunk, but he wasn't stupid enough to go that far. Soon, he'd have Dumbledore admitting, however obliquely, that he did not, in fact, want Snape to change after all. That was all he wanted, one small victory over the old man. Just once.
Perhaps just one more tiny swallow.
&*&*&*&*&*&*&*
As he strode through the halls with the rest of the crowd nearing the Great Hall, he distinctively felt a hand. On his bum. A hand on his body anywhere was not normal, and on that particular part was, well. It threw him. So much so that he stopped and several people ploughed into him simultaneously. Goyle. Malfoy. And Lupin.
As usual, Goyle looked, simply-put, dumb. Malfoy's eyes were lowered in what the twit probably thought was a seductive gaze, mouth quirked, licking his lips again. And Lupin... seemed to have no idea that anything untoward was happening at all. Neutrally blank face. Suspicious. The man's sturdy body was still pressed against him though, not having stepped back like the students.
Snape took a deep breath and stepped back himself.
Catching the Headmaster's gaudy hat out of the corner of his eye, he gushed apologetically, "Oh, pardon me. I'm so sorry about that. I thought I was being goosed by one of the ghosts, but I see it must have been an admirer!" He winked at Goyle and turned to face Malfoy completely. "You'll have to keep your hands off Mr. Malfoy, until you graduate!" he mock-chastised with a grin.
Traffic and chatter around them had completely stopped.
"I'll be sure to try, Professor," Malfoy cooed, "but accidents do happen. I hope another one might happen tonight while you're checking how I measure up," he leered.
Snape tried hard not to gag. Did the boy honestly get any action off these obvious innuendos?
"Well, you never know what will happen," Snape winked.
A disapproving throat-clearing noise preceded Dumbledore's scolding. "All right, Severus, I think that's about close enough to that line. You'll have crossed it in about one more exchange," he said without his usual twinkle. "Move along, children," Dumbledore ordered and the crowd dispersed. For once, he was clearly not amused.
"I have no idea what you mean, Headmaster," Snape countered, drawing himself up to his full height, determined to play the game to the last. A blond head peeked around a nearby statue, distracting him for a moment.
The Headmaster met Snape's eye levelly. "Inappropriate conduct. Improper familiarity with students."
Snape suddenly felt a familiar hard warmth against his body and turned his head as if in slow motion to see that Lupin was back. Very much so. The hand on his backside had returned as well. It squeezed gently.
Lupin's steady, imminently reasonable voice breathed past his ear. "Nothing to be concerned about, Headmaster. Severus has just been practicing for me, for later."
That voice, combined with the body and the hand and the heat and the pressure and the squeeze, made something surprising happen in Snape's trousers. Surprising to him anyway. No one else noticed. He plastered the toothy grin back onto his shocked face uneasily and gushed, "Oh absolutely, darling; just keeping the bed warm for you!"
Malfoy gasped, stepping out from behind the statue entirely. Dumbledore's eternal amusement seemed to have returned with Snape's shock.
Lupin pushed him against the wall, right there in front of them both.
Snape sputtered for a moment before the more powerfully built man pressed his body and mouth against him. The kiss wasn't like anything Snape had felt in decades, or perhaps in his life, since the last few decades had been remarkably celibate. It was raw and sweet and somehow conveyed both lust and need and humor with the whole situation. Snape's mouth parted as the other man's groin pressed into the surprise in his trousers, trying not to moan too loudly.
Lupin pulled back, chuckling quietly, body still flush against his, and whispered, "Good. I'll be there at midnight."
~end~
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Title: Swish
Pairing: Severus Snape/Remus Lupin
Author:
salixbabylonRating: PG-13
Word Count: 2879
Disclaimer: Rowling owns everything.
Summary: Severus decides to "mellow out."
Author's Notes: Part of the Severus Snape Fuh-Q Fest - Third Wave (Challenge #20. Snape undergoes a change of character) Thank yous: Always to Cindy Lou. Unending gratitude to betas: Betty and Olivia Lupin.
"This is the eighth catastrophe that imbecilic boy has caused in the six weeks since term started, Headmaster! Every week it's either an explosion or a meltdown! He's a menace and I refuse to let him back into my classroom!" Snape's eyes were dilated and wild, chest heaving, face flushed.
"Sit down please, Severus," Dumbledore soothed. "Here, have some tea; that will calm you."
Snape barely resisted the urge to fling the cup and saucer across the room. "I don't want to calm down. I want you to tell me that I never have to let that disastrous fool back into my classroom. It's been six years, Headmaster; I don't really think I can bear a seventh!"
Dumbledore smiled indulgently. "Aside from the... mishaps in class, how are the boy's potions? Is he failing your class?"
Snape grudgingly parted his pursed lips to admit, "No. Longbottom is actually managing to create barely acceptable concoctions."
"Well then, if he's not failing, he'll stay in the class." Dumbledore smiled one of his patented twinkling smiles. "Now that that's settled... I should like to encourage you to relax a bit, Severus. As a friend."
Snape snorted. "As a friend?"
"Yes, a friend. Which we are, if perhaps somewhat unconventional ones. You need to calm down. 'Lighten up. Mellow out,' as I believe the students used to say in your day."
Snape twisted his mouth into its usual sneer. "I never said any such thing. Nor do I see a need to 'mellow out.' The students are fools, and Longbottom is a dangerous one. If you do not care for my personality, I suggest you seek another Potions master and spy, and see how amiable a person you can find to fill my shoes. Noxious potions, bored and stupid children, duplicity and danger do not make for an easy-going lifestyle!" Severus spat as he rose out of the chair.
"You're getting overexcited again," Dumbledore commented mildly. "I was merely suggesting that you try to relax. I fear you are in danger of compromising your health. Not to mention having a direct effect on your students' ability to perform well in your classes. Please, as a friend, try to be a bit easier on everyone – yourself included." The old man smiled again. "Just think how such a change would surprise everyone," he twinkled.
Snape's lips twisted into a snarl as he set down his tea and strode to the door. "Good day, Headmaster."
"Fool!" Snape grumbled to himself as he stepped into his bathtub. "'Lighten up' indeed. Who does he think he is-" his words were muffled as he got a mouthful of shampoo. "Fuck!" he sputtered. "What does he want, a staff comprised of Lockharts, smiling and... gleaming all the time? Always nice and helpfully incompetent and giddy? Or like Lupin, always calm, collected, and polite? Idiots."
He stepped out of the tub and began to vigorously towel off. "Simpering, smarmy, acquiescent imbeciles," he growled. He wrapped the towel around his waist and stalked to his living room.
He poured himself some whisky and downed it. Another measure followed, and finally the third managed to quell his wrath. "Daft old bugger. I'll show him. I'll give him what he asks for and see how he likes it, me acting like that..."
A sizeable portion of the rest of the bottle of whisky convinced him this was a good plan and he retired to bed.
Snape skipped breakfast entirely and stood in front of the mirror, practicing smiling.
"Are you all right, dear? Shall I go fetch help?" it asked with concern.
He hexed it into silence and went back to his facial contortions. There, that was it. Just a hint of teeth, eyes crinkled a bit, smoothed-out lines in the forehead. A pleasant expression. Not scary. He memorized how it felt on his face. He unhexed the mirror and waited.
"Yes, that's better," it reluctantly acknowledged.
Snape charmed his beloved ebony robes into an olive green, which did abhorrent things to his complexion. Perhaps a self-tanning potion? No, he wasn't going to go that far. He turned the robes a forest green. Too bright but better. The silver buttons gleamed.
He consulted a book in his study on the way to his private lab, where he quickly brewed the potion Lockhart had reeked of every morning. He finger-combed it through his clean but still lanky hair. After a moment, the mirror reflected a coiffure of lustrous, gleaming hair, not a hint of grey to be seen, full of body and slightly wavy about his shoulders. He wrinkled his nose in distaste. "Don't do that; you look lovely," the mirror chastised. "Is today something special?"
"Yes," Snape answered, "A challenge for a consummate actor."
The students didn't seem to know what to make of him. Non-greasy, non-ugly, non-evil-dark-bastard, and non-... mean. Professor Snape was smiling. Really smiling, not that I've just caught you doing something bad satisfied smile, not the You're going to live to regret this smile preceding detentions filled with unknown horrors, and not the I love my little Death-Eaters-to-Be arse-kissing smirk. It was highly disquieting.
Of course a few students seemed puzzled in a different, if somewhat hormonally predictable, way. The female Weasley kept getting a goofy grin on her face while he lectured, and then catching herself and looking disgusted and confused. Teenagers being what they were, he had been somewhat prepared; he knew he could be a quite attractive man when he tried. He simply chose not to waste it on any of the imbeciles in the castle.
Potter's expression was an amusing combination of shock and lust until Granger whispered not so quietly to stop checking out the professor before anyone else noticed. Snape's fake smile shifted into true amusement when he over-heard that as he wandered around the classroom, evaluating potions. It was quite satisfying to know his suspicions about the sexual preferences of the Boy Who Lived To Annoy Him were correct. Takes one to know one, he thought.
He did get a bit of a shock himself though, as he neared Malfoy's table. The impudent whelp looked him up and down, lingering on his hair, his smile, and the buttons around his groin a bit longer than necessary. Snape's brows rose as the boy winked and carefully licked his lips. Pale pink lips. Snape blinked hard and opened his eyes to see an openly feral grin on the boy's face. He turned away.
So. Potter and Malfoy. Who would have guessed the two most notorious students of this year had yet another thing in common? He was tempted to cackle in glee, but turned it into a somewhat giggly laugh instead. Very reminiscent of Lockhart, he told himself.
But now he had an idea. After being outed by Potter Sr. and Co. in their fifth year, Snape had never bothered to hide his preferences. Of course the students didn't know about his sexuality; to them, he was simply an obnoxious git with nothing between his legs. But today, in honor of the occasion, maybe it was time for some swish, just to throw them.
"Draco, you are amazing," he gushed in a lilting tone of voice that he hadn't used in over a decade. "Perfect! Your potion is simply perfect, as usual. Tell me, is it not enough for you to be the most gorgeous young man in Slytherin? Must you also be brilliant?" He batted his eyelashes.
Malfoy blinked for a moment, fishlike, before he rebounded with, "Well, Sir," in a breathy voice that would have put an asthmatic to shame. "I find it important to be equally talented in all areas. One never knows what one may be called upon to do. I just try to measure up," he finished with a melodramatic wink.
"Oh, you do definitely measure up, Mr. Malfoy," Snape purred, meeting his gaze with an intense stare.
Potter made a sputtering noise from the other side of the classroom. Their audience was clearly riveted and Snape was having the most fun he could remember ever in this classroom, including a brief time when he was student and successfully exploded Black's cauldrons once a week with no trace.
Malfoy made a positively obscene moan to get his attention back. "Do you really think so, Sir? That I measure up? Perhaps we could get together tonight and you could see for yourself?"
Shocked silence filled the classroom.
The bell rang.
Potter nearly knocked down Granger and three others in his rush to flee the classroom. The usual stampede seemed twice as fast as usual; within three heartbeats the room was empty. Snape declared himself deeply amused and the whole charade a success.
As he had known it would, word spread quickly. Students were staring, gaping, and drooling at him. Well, it wasn't his fault they'd never seen a gorgeous man before. Although to be fair, the werewolf wasn't especially hard on the eyes. He hadn't been twenty years ago and he wasn't now. Lupin hadn't the flare for drama Snape had however (or was copying from that primping fool Lockhart anyway). Of the two types, he had definitely chosen the more amusing role model for the day, Snape mused. Kindness would have confused the students, but flamboyance was truly frightening them.
Gods, it was exhausting though. He nipped into his office during a free period just to relax the muscles on his face. They were beginning to cramp up.
He wondered how much longer before Dumbledore came to confront him. Probably a bit more flirting with the students was called for, even though he could barely stomach the idea of hitting on any of the pubescent creatures even vaguely seriously. Bantering with Malfoy had been difficult enough; despite being quite attractive at seventeen, he was still a fawning sycophant. It had been fun, though.
Snape wondered that he even remembered how to flirt, it had been so long since he last used those skills.
Perhaps he and Malfoy could have an encore at dinner, where they could be observed.
There was a knock at his door. He schooled his face back into the toothy grin. "Oh joy - companionship!" he cried, flinging open the door with an affected laugh.
Remus Lupin snorted. "Never been greeted by you like that before."
Snape took a deep breath and ploughed onwards, making sure the door was open and that his voice was loud enough for anyone to hear. "Darling Remus, to what do I owe the pleasure of your visit? Could you smell from all the way upstairs that I was pining away in want of your company?"
Lupin gazed at him penetratingly. A surprisingly easy, comfortable silence filled the small office. "Let me guess. Dumbledore suggested a change of attitude and this is your revenge?"
Snape tried very hard not to let his jaw drop but his eyes still bugged out somewhat. He closed the door. "Do you doubt my sincerity?" he asked in his usual voice, silky and biting. Ah, how he loved his maliciousness. Who knew how much he would miss it after only four hours? Nostalgia swept over him for a moment.
Lupin was smiling slightly. "A leopard cannot change his spots overnight."
A delicious sneer crossed Snape's face. "You'd know, wouldn't you, Werewolf?"
The other man's smile remained, but his eyes flickered briefly. He recovered and rejoined with a simple, "Yes, I would," as he opened the door and exited.
Snape sat for a few minutes longer and tried to regroup. Nothing had changed. Don't let that beast unsettle you, he thought. With his penetrating eyes. Hazel eyes. Soulful and entrancing. He'd never noticed what beautiful eyes the man had before. He guessed he'd always been too distracted by his nice build or maybe the fact that he was an incredibly intelligent Dark Creature. Whichever.
As the day progressed, Snape got more and more annoyed with his own game. People smiled back at him and some students even dared to joke. One girl tried to read a magazine in his class! Had they forgotten who he was? Were they simpletons? Yet he couldn't release the anger he felt building inside him without blowing the whole thing. Just make it to dinner, he kept telling himself.
The more frustrated he became, the bigger and broader and more teeth his smiles showed. The more he wanted to yell and shout, the more he simpered and pranced. The evening break found him tossing his hair around and explaining the potion to a surprisingly chatty Ravenclaw seventh-year. As the boy walked away he found himself wondering what was hidden under that robe.
Snape briefly wondered if his new persona had acquired a life of his own and a teensy flicker of sympathy for Lockhart surfaced before he squashed it firmly.
Finally, dinnertime arrived. The one meal everyone was required to attend unless they had a very good excuse. Which meant that Dumbledore would be there, and had undoubtedly already heard the whispers and gossip flying through the castle all day.
Snape nipped back to his rooms and reapplied his hair potion. After a moment's debate he also had a quick swallow of last night's whisky, for fortitude. The whole thing would be so much easier drunk, but he wasn't stupid enough to go that far. Soon, he'd have Dumbledore admitting, however obliquely, that he did not, in fact, want Snape to change after all. That was all he wanted, one small victory over the old man. Just once.
Perhaps just one more tiny swallow.
As he strode through the halls with the rest of the crowd nearing the Great Hall, he distinctively felt a hand. On his bum. A hand on his body anywhere was not normal, and on that particular part was, well. It threw him. So much so that he stopped and several people ploughed into him simultaneously. Goyle. Malfoy. And Lupin.
As usual, Goyle looked, simply-put, dumb. Malfoy's eyes were lowered in what the twit probably thought was a seductive gaze, mouth quirked, licking his lips again. And Lupin... seemed to have no idea that anything untoward was happening at all. Neutrally blank face. Suspicious. The man's sturdy body was still pressed against him though, not having stepped back like the students.
Snape took a deep breath and stepped back himself.
Catching the Headmaster's gaudy hat out of the corner of his eye, he gushed apologetically, "Oh, pardon me. I'm so sorry about that. I thought I was being goosed by one of the ghosts, but I see it must have been an admirer!" He winked at Goyle and turned to face Malfoy completely. "You'll have to keep your hands off Mr. Malfoy, until you graduate!" he mock-chastised with a grin.
Traffic and chatter around them had completely stopped.
"I'll be sure to try, Professor," Malfoy cooed, "but accidents do happen. I hope another one might happen tonight while you're checking how I measure up," he leered.
Snape tried hard not to gag. Did the boy honestly get any action off these obvious innuendos?
"Well, you never know what will happen," Snape winked.
A disapproving throat-clearing noise preceded Dumbledore's scolding. "All right, Severus, I think that's about close enough to that line. You'll have crossed it in about one more exchange," he said without his usual twinkle. "Move along, children," Dumbledore ordered and the crowd dispersed. For once, he was clearly not amused.
"I have no idea what you mean, Headmaster," Snape countered, drawing himself up to his full height, determined to play the game to the last. A blond head peeked around a nearby statue, distracting him for a moment.
The Headmaster met Snape's eye levelly. "Inappropriate conduct. Improper familiarity with students."
Snape suddenly felt a familiar hard warmth against his body and turned his head as if in slow motion to see that Lupin was back. Very much so. The hand on his backside had returned as well. It squeezed gently.
Lupin's steady, imminently reasonable voice breathed past his ear. "Nothing to be concerned about, Headmaster. Severus has just been practicing for me, for later."
That voice, combined with the body and the hand and the heat and the pressure and the squeeze, made something surprising happen in Snape's trousers. Surprising to him anyway. No one else noticed. He plastered the toothy grin back onto his shocked face uneasily and gushed, "Oh absolutely, darling; just keeping the bed warm for you!"
Malfoy gasped, stepping out from behind the statue entirely. Dumbledore's eternal amusement seemed to have returned with Snape's shock.
Lupin pushed him against the wall, right there in front of them both.
Snape sputtered for a moment before the more powerfully built man pressed his body and mouth against him. The kiss wasn't like anything Snape had felt in decades, or perhaps in his life, since the last few decades had been remarkably celibate. It was raw and sweet and somehow conveyed both lust and need and humor with the whole situation. Snape's mouth parted as the other man's groin pressed into the surprise in his trousers, trying not to moan too loudly.
Lupin pulled back, chuckling quietly, body still flush against his, and whispered, "Good. I'll be there at midnight."
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