|serpens_fic (serpens_fic) wrote,|
@ 2010-09-12 16:44:00
|Entry tags:||angst, creaturefic, darkfic, fests09, nc17, snape/lupin|
Waking the Wolf (NC17)
Title: Waking the Wolf
Pairings/Characters: Snape/Lupin, Dumbledore
Warnings: noncon/dubcon, Legilimancy gone wrong, spanking, a bit of D/s, werewolf cliché
Notes: Written for prisonerfest, this is a DARKFIC with rather non-sexy noncon. It's been expanded and re-written from the version that was originally posted at prisonerfest. I may be convinced to show other snippets of the week if others are interested.
Disclaimer: Characters are property of Rowling, we just play in the sandbox.
Summary: Pre-Prisoner of Azkaban. When Snape refuses to make wolfsbane for Lupin, Dumbledore gives Remus free rein in working out their differences. Severus finds it's never good to wake the wolf.
Dumbledore glanced up at Severus over the cluttered expanse of his desk; his eyes twinkled merrily, and he pushed a bowl of lemon drops across to his dour Potions Master with the same absent air he played (and won) chess.
"Severus, my dear boy, just the one I was looking for!" He smiled widely; Severus suppressed a shudder. It had taken time to learn the old wizard's ways, but he'd come to realise that the more amiable Albus was, the more odious the task or unpleasant the news he was about to deliver.
"Where else would I be when you sent a phalanx of house elves to bring me here?" He sneered, ignoring the chair Dumbledore tried to wave him to in favor of standing.
Dumbledore nodded sagely, pushing aside the paperwork in front of him and leaning forward. "Yes, of course. I needed to discuss the candidate for Defense Against the Dark Arts with you."
Snape's shoulders twitched with barely-suppressed annoyance and drew himself up stiffly. His back was ramrod straight beneath the heavy black robes he always wore, even in the heat of summer. "Well, it obviously isn't me, since you already have me revising the potions curriculum. Why does it concern me at all? He or she can hardly be worse than Quirrell!"
Dumbledore's eyes didn't lose their damnable twinkle, though they cooled and hardened noticably. "Because this professor will require you to brew Wolfsbane every month." He was prepared for the Potion Master's explosion, and absently cast Reparo on the various instruments that Severus destroyed with a burst of angry magic.
"Lupin!" he spat, "It's Lupin, isn't it? You're asking a damned werewolf to teach children, lining them up like tender morsels for his midnight snack! What makes you think for one moment I would assist in such a dangerous notion?" He clenched his hands, resisting the urge to strangle the man gazing at him with disapproval. Like he was some recalcitrant schoolboy, and not a professor with valid reason for his concern!
Albus' brows climbed his forehead. "I know no-one but yourself understands the danger more, were Remus to not have his potion. And few could brew it without error, as you can."
"You're laboring under the delusion that I've agreed to brew it for you - I tell you again, I will not aid you in this suicidal endeavor!"
The twinkle finally left Dumbledore's eyes and his voice, while still amiable, held an unmistakable undertone of steel. "Ah, but you will, Severus. The war will not wait for anyone, and Harry needs the tutelage that Lupin can give him.Yes, I am aware of your history; but if you are incapable of assigning blame where it properly belongs, then drastic measures need to be taken."
The old wizard held his furious gaze for a long moment, before relenting. With an almost inaudible sigh, Dumbledore sat back and flicked his wand at a small cut-glass vial on one of the shelves in the room. It spun in the air in a slow arc towards Severus, its contents a liquid indigo so deep it was black at first glimpse. "All in good time, of course. Ah....would you take this vial to Poppy? It's a very interesting blend you may wish to analyze in your copious free time, made by one of the students this summer....it seems she was experimenting."
Snape's shoulders lowered, almost imperceptibly, when Dumbledore switched topics. He didn't know what he would do if forced to rub shoulders with Lupin on a daily basis - he still woke some nights in a cold sweat from dreams where Potter had arrived too late. It wasn't that he thought werewolves the worst of monsters, because he'd seen far worse evils. It was simply the most tangible evil he'd seen firsthand. But there was time enough to deal with Lupin later, it seemed.
Until he caught the vial sent his way and felt the sharp tug at his navel; he had just enough time to look up and meet Dumbledore's placid eyes, again twinkling, before the portkey tugged him away.