Waking the Wolf (NC17) Title: Waking the Wolf Wordcount: 4,700~ Rating: NC-17 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.
He staggered to his feet in a familiar place, though he hadn't been there in years. Not since Black's prank, which had nearly gotten him killed. Which had revealed to him the monster that Lupin was, and had forced him into the ignominious position of owing James Potter a life debt. What was the purpose of sending him here?
A shadow detatched itself from the walls and stepped forward. "Ah, Severus," Lupin said, face shuttered and eyes wary. "Albus told me to expect you. Said we were to sort out our...differences."
Severus let his eyes take in the werewolf's appearance; the mousy-brown hair sported streaks of grey at the temples. His clothing was poor quality and much mended, hanging loosely from his frame - weight loss, most likely. Dumbledore's pet werewolf wasn't doing well for himself, it seemed. He sneered his disdain, black eyes narrowing dangerously. "I don't settle differences with monsters, Lupin."
"Would you believe me if I said I was thinking the same thing?" Lupin's tone was mild - he must have learned that trick from Albus, Snape thought with disgust - but the werewolf's eyes hardened and carried a warning: don't cross that line.
Snape ignored the warning. "I refuse to support a filthy, dangerous beast," he hissed, "there's nothing to settle." His chest tightened in triumph at the anger in the werewolf's eyes, but he wanted more than anger. "Maybe you should focus on settling differences with your friends - they did, after all, set you up to be a murderer - oh, but wait, one of them is a murderer!" He mocked.
He watched Lupin's eyes as he spoke and felt a vindictive pleasure when the rage transmuted to pain. Lupin inhaled sharply and took an unsteady step back. The next moment, Snape's wand was in his hand and pointed at him. "Expelliarmus!" He blinked in shock when nothing happened.
Remus smiled faintly, mockingly, at him. "I see Dumbledore forgot to tell you about the magic-nulling wards on the shack. For safety, of course - it wouldn't do to have some witch or wizard bypassing the wards meant to keep folk out and monsters in. Or," he added spitefully, "to have the monsters disabling the wards from the inside."
Severus bared his teeth at the plural inclusion. "Don't count me as one of your kind, wolf!"
Lupin's smile widened briefly, and he paced forward, encroaching on Snape's space. "Did he also neglect to tell you that the wards will keep us in here until I deem us capable of getting along?" He ducked when Snape swung at him, then captured a thin bony wrist and squeezed until he could feel the pulse racing beneath his fingers. His werewolf blood gave him the advantage - increased agility, heightened senses, and greater strength. He squeezed harder, until Snape's wand fell from his nerveless fingers with a noisy clatter, rolling away from them.
Another step, and Remus had Severus backed up against the wall. With a gentleness parodying concern, he freed his hand and pinned the smaller man by the throat, frisking him with his free hand. Potion vials and Snape's wand were pitched through the window, escaping the wards in a way they could not. He pointedly ignored the man's strangled protest when his wand was tossed through, black eyes tracking its descent.
"Now that I have you disarmed, let's discuss some things." He let go of Severus and carelessly turned his back to him, moving across the room to sit on a bed with a thin lumpy mattress and faded coverlet. The rusty springs creaked loudly under his weight. Once seated, he let his eyes appraise Severus, who was glaring at him balefully and rubbing his wrist.
"You are at a disadvantage. I am stronger than you, thanks to being - a monster," he ground the word out, "but there's something we have in common. We both do what's required of us." He met the Potions Master's hate-filled stare without flinching. "This war requires Harry to win. Harry needs certain things to ensure he does win. Albus believes I am one of those things, and therefore, you will brew the potion and ensure you can work with me."
All those years he stood by and watched his friends harass me, and now he grows a spine? Severus thought bitterly. "I am no slave to you -" he hissed, but between one moment and the next Lupin was up and across the room, a scarred forearm pressing across the other man's throat.
"What's one more master?" he whispered, pressing harder until spots danced in Snape's vision. "You already serve two....what's one more?"
Blood roared in his ears; Snape clawed at the forearm, fighting to breathe until Lupin inhaled raggedly and stepped back, jerking his hand away as if burned. Severus collapsed to the floor bonelessly, chest heaving, aware of how weak he was compared to the werewolf looming over him. It's too close to full moon, I shouldn't antagonise him, he thought, the warning bells clamoring in the back of his mind. With effort, he ignored it. "I will never serve a monster like you!" he insisted when he could breathe again. He refused to grovel; not for a Marauder.
"I see. You would rather serve a monster who has killed many....as opposed to one who has killed none, is that it?" Lupin's tone was mild again and the civilised mask firmly in place, but there was an undercurrent of bitterness and rage that no amount of civil pretense could hide.
Snape opened his mouth to sneer a reply, but closed it again. There was a strange look in Lupin's eyes, one he'd never seen there before.
"Strange, isn't it, this twisted morality you use to justify your actions?" Lupin's lips twisted, more a showing of teeth than a smile or grimace. "I asked Albus how he expected us to be able to settle our differences. And do you know what he said, Severus?" He crouched, and leaned in close to the other man's ear. "He said, 'How does an alpha wolf deal with a lesser wolf in the pack?'"
Snape shot to his feet, his head narrowly missing Lupin's chin in the process. "I am not, and never will be, in your filthy pack," he hissed, "much less the lesser -" before Lupin gripped his shoulders and shook him, violently.
"What do I have to do to force you to see the bald truth? You invite the basilisk into your home while cursing the grass snake in your garden! At least I am only a monster one night out of every month, and not by my will! How many deaths are you responsible for, Severus?"
"That's none of your damn business - "
"If I say it's my business, it is."
His piercing gaze was boring into Snape's black eyes, and without thinking, Snape hissed, "Legilimens!" and forced his way into the werewolf's mind.
He'd expected a labyrinthine mind, dark and thorny; instead, he was impressed to find Lupin's mind was well-ordered and sectioned off by neat corridors and shelf after shelf of memory - very much like a library. Inwardly he sneered; the werewolf would have been a bloody Ravenclaw if he hadn't been bitten, no doubt.
He walked further back along the rows which were neatly labeled as well, in his neat handwriting. He skipped over the shelves labeled "Hogwarts Years"; he knew too well what those years contained.
In fact, he wasn't actually looking for memories - he was looking for something else: fantasies. The urges created by the monster. What Lupin was actually capable of, were he not locked in and drugged with wolfsbane.
He passed a shelf labeled 'XXX'; he brushed a hand over the softly glowing spheres of remembered fantasies, and let the memories rush up to fill his vision.
He found himself staring at a memory - no, fantasy - bare, sweat-slicked skin, of Lupin fucking another man - no, fucking him, over and over, the fantasy-Snape begging for it; in another, he was kneeling between Lupin's feet and giving him an enthusiastic blow job, lips stretched thinly and cheeks hollowed. Surely he can't be THAT well-hung, he thought snidely as his cheeks burned. Hastily he pulled his hand away from that shelf and plunging deeper into the library, disdaining the man and searching for evidence of the Wolf, the beast, the Monster behind the civilised mask.
He found it finally, at the very back of the library. A wrought-iron gate circled a small enclosure; it was locked, but not very high. It was a simple matter of 'climbing' over it and once in he rubbed his hands together in anticipation. Lupin was certainly suffering the effects of his mental invasion; distantly he could feel Lupin's feeble attempts to expel his presence but he seemed to have no ability for Occlumency whatsoever. "Good thing you're not a spy, Lupin," he sneered aloud, looking around the enclosure. The memories here were stuffed haphazardly into one large cardboard box, complete with an arrow reading "This End Up". And at the bottom of the box - something more than mere memory. He pushed down his unease and delved in, touching the memories there -
- a blurry memory of paws and claws and teeth and fur, damp wet loam and rock underfoot, the nip in the air that meant a coming frost, the scent of rotting leaves, pine, old spoor and fresh, adding dimension and scent of prey - the thirst for the hunt, the remembered taste of hot salty coppery blood and tender young flesh -
He couldn't tell if the taste was merely chicken or rabbit or wild game, or something more human in nature. With a shudder of revulsion, he pushed deeper into the box, and this time, the memories were thrust back at him, as if eager to be seen. - caged cornered trapped unable to run, alone, smelling fear, an acrid bitter stench that made him snarl with a feeling he had no words for - then not-alone, running in the woods, a strange pack of horned prey-but-not-prey, a black wolf-not-wolf, and a rat he wanted to eat, but did not - pain of transformation, fear of the unremembered change, sight and smell and sound shifting, ripping at skin, fighting enemy/attacker/self, until the human self takes over and the wolf is trapped here again -
Severus blinked - it seemed the wolf itself was here, at the root of the memories, curled around them as if they were all that was familiar in this strange environment of books and shelves and human memories. Experimentally he touched the wolf-mind itself, the darkly pulsing sphere at the bottom of the memories, and it offered something else: not a memory, a fantasy. "What, can even wolves dream?" he mocked, before letting the fantasy pull him in.
- the woods at full moon, the thrill of a successful hunt, blood coppery-salty-sweet on muzzle and tongue and teeth, blood from a freshly inflicted bite still bleeding sluggishly, and the wolf whines in pleasure/hunger/delight, and the human-that-is-Severus writhing screaming beneath, all pale hairless skin and thick, rich blood, stinking of fear, as Moony howls his conquest to the night sky, a cry of mine mine mine -
With a shudder of revulsion, Severus broke free of the fantasy, but the werewolf had broken free while the fantasy had held Snape captive. The wolf stood spectral and large as life before him; for a moment it wolf-grinned, before the grin became a snarl and it lunged, snapping at his heels.
In a sudden rush of panic Severus fled through the orderly corridors of Lupin's mind back to his own mind and broke the mental intrusion off, chased by the faint echo of wolfsong. When he could see again, Lupin's warm amber gaze was gone. Cold yellow eyes stared back - the visage of Wolf, staring out of a man's eyes. The wolf's nature, with human intelligence. What have I done? he thought wildly, sliding to the floor and forcibly repressing the urge to vomit.
Absently, he noticed the werewolf's nose was bleeding from the force of the mental invasion, but Lupin's attention was now solely on the figure before him. "So we see the monster you are at last," he sneered in a pathetic attempt to restore normalcy, "and not even full moon!"
Lupin's eyes narrowed, all pretense of amiability was gone. "You alone are responsible for the wolf's actions this time. You forced your way in where you had no right to go; you entered the wolf's cage and showed him the way out. Don't think you can excuse yourself from the consequences!" He stalked forward, predatory, crowding into Snape's personal space. "Do you even understand what you did? Consider the danger, not just to yourself, but to Harry, the Order, the whole bloody WAR?" His eyes had a feral, hungry quality, a disturbing mixture of madness, wolf, and man that Severus had never seen before, even in Greyback.
He leaned over Severus - so closely he could see the racing pulse fluttering in the long line of his throat - and whispered hoarsely into his ear, "Let me tell you what you have done. No, better yet, let me show you exactly what you did. First, you stripped away my defenses, breaching my privacy - " He dug his fingers into the collar of Snape's clothes, and tugged sharply; buttons clattered on the floor. He tugged again, and the fabric parted abruptly, tearing under clawed fingers. He placed his palm against Snape's chest, taking in the cooler skin, the frantic heartbeat, the nervous sweat. "No, you left nothing to the imagination, did you?"
He kept his eyes locked on Snape's, and dropped his hands to the Potions Masters' trousers; understanding sunk in and too late he tried to bat away the hands and escape to the other side of the room, but the strong, scarred hands yanked at the placket. The buttons went flying; Lupin ignored them and took advantage of Severus' upward movement to yank trousers and pants to the floor, exposing pale, lean thighs, knobby knees, and the man's groin.
For a moment, Lupin held tightly to the trousers, keeping them bunched around Snape's ankles and letting his eyes linger over the coarse black curls and the soft, thick cock. He snarled when Snape tried to cover his nudity with his hands, hiding the lightly furred balls that were pulled tightly against his body and trying to twist away. The smell of the man's fear was almost overpowering; it would have sickened Remus, but Wolf scented the fear, and wanted more. Take, dominate, control! the wolf howled, hungry and unbound. Hurt the one who hurt you! Break, master, subjugate!
He lunged, and toppled Severus, pinning him face-down where he fell. "One would almost think you wanted this, by the way you goad me at your own peril." He worked a hand between the other man's legs and wrapped his fingers around the balls, squeezing until he heard the stuttered inhale. "Tell me, Severus; in your studies on lycanthropes, did you come across behavior studies between alpha wolves and the rest of their pack?" He let go of Snape's balls and hauled his hips up until the man was more-or-less on his knees, arse raised and exposed. He chuckled darkly and ran a fingertip down Snape's cleft, savoring the way he lurched away from the touch, arse clenching in fear. "Don't you find this position ironic?" He slapped one angular globe of arse hard, and tightened his grip on Snape's hips when he struggled to free himself. "Do you really want to be here still at full moon? No? Then let me show you what it means to be literally fucked."
He slapped Snape's arse again at the strangled yelp of protest he'd made, then dug his fingers into the red imprint his hand had left on that white skin. "It's quite a different game than wanking, you know - fucking. It can be quite intensely pleasurable. This time, however, it's about dominance, and your submission to me. And yes, you will submit," he snarled, fingers digging into those thin hips and holding tight enough to bruise. "You weren't content with Remus the man, who was willing to be submissive to your abuse; now you're stuck with the wolf, and the wolf has suffered enough from you. You will submit to me in any way I desire, and you will admit you are the weaker, and you will learn to work with me, however ungraciously, or I will keep us both here til the full moon a week from now. Wouldn't you like to know what it's like to actually be a monster, instead of just acting like one?"
He could feel the tremor run through Snape's body, the terror of being trapped without magic in the same rooms as a werewolf on the full moon. "No, never," he rasped, still angry and defiant, though Remus could all but smell the shame and fear rolling from him.
"Well then, it's simple, isn't it? You prove to the wolf you're submissive, and I let you go before the full moon."
Snape twisted his head to look out the window. "What if I swore I would leave you alone and brew the damn potion?"
Lupin leaned forward, pinning Snape under his weight - a position that had the delightful effect of bringing bare bony arse into contact with the growing bulge of Lupin's cock, which was quite hungry for the attention. Severus made a strangled sound of panic at the contact. Funny how years of hiding the wolf under enforced civility and amiability melts away in this position, he mused, humping the body beneath him experimentally. "That might suit me well enough, except the wolf in me is quite angry with you; it's him you have to convince. And I don't think he's willing to except a consolation prize at this point."
A rustle of fabric, and Lupin freed his aching cock from his trousers. A distant part of his mind - the part that strove for civility at all times - clamored noisily, trying to get him to turn back before it reached a point of no return, but the wolf smelled blood and sex and power and revenge. Domination. He exhaled noisily and slid his cock along the crease of Snape's arse, enjoying the slide of cool, pale skin against his heated and flushed length. He had an impressive cock; it was the envy of his dorm mates. Unnaturally long and thick, heavily veined, with a fat mushroom head, its size was a side effect of his lycanthropy. Good to fuck with, the wolf insinuated, good to punish. He will feel our dominance well!
Still. He could at least give Severus the illusion of choice. "Well? Will you submit to me - and the wolf - or still be here when the moon turns full?" He reached forward and tangled his fingers into the unkempt dark strands, pulling until Snape's chin lifted and exposed the pale expanse of his throat. The wolf clamored, Bite, Turn, claim! The neck, the throat, the pulsing lifeblood! and Lupin held him back by force of will. Another way, he insisted silently, more pleasure, less blood.
Even as Lupin wrestled with the wolf, he could feel the struggle Snape was undergoing; the tension was all but singing from his muscles. He got his answer when Snape stopped resisting, though he didn't relax. Not that he expected him to; he'd submit, but never bend. Severus Snape never truly served anyone but himself. But it would do for the wolf, who could care less about the various degrees of submission so long as it was there.
He aligned his cock with Snape's clenched entrance, admonished lightly, "This will likely be uncomfortable for you, but try to relax - " and pushed forward. It took a hard thrust to breach the tight guardian ring, and when he did Severus shuddered violently. The spasms felt delicious to the wolf. More, deeper, make him cry and show his belly!
It was dry and so tight it was nearly painful for the werewolf, pulling uncomfortably at his foreskin. He knew it hurt far worse for the man beneath him; he listened to the hissed exhalation of pain as he forced his way in deeply, stopping only when his balls rested against Snape's arse. He rocked his hips gently, spreading the narrow arse cheeks to see the way the rim of Snape's hole was stretched around him, white with the first assault and rapidly reddening; he thrust again, and found blood easing the way a little. "So tell me, Severus, how does it feel to play bitch to a werewolf? And not even on a bed," he mocked, "But here, on the floor, like a beast?"
Snape's hands were clenched in a battle to submit without letting down inner walls; the tightening of skin around his eyes revealing how much pain he felt. "How does it feel, wolf," he hissed back through clenched teeth, "to discover you're the monster everyone else already knew you were?"
The wolf crested, howled, declared its dominance; the intense sensation and pleasure made him struggle to hold to the man. Another thrust, and he gave up the struggle; the wolf stepped forward and took over his body, taking control of the coupling as well. Wolf!Remus pulled his hips back and forced his way back in roughly, Severus was so tight around his cock that he could feel the spasms of pain Severus couldn't quite suppress. "Do you really want to know?" he snarled, roughing out the fast, punishing rhythm wolves fucked with, and was rewarded when the man's breath hitched. "It feels good, Severus." He settled down to a thorough, punishing fuck, fueled by werewolf stamina. Every thrust pushed them across the floor; idly Remus wondered if Severus would have splinters in his hands, chest, and knees when he was done.
He pulled out as he came with a roar, coating the inside of Snape's arse and a good deal of his backside with his seed at the same time. The Wolf howled its virility and dominance at the sight of blood on his cock.
Severus rolled to his side, knees pulled to his chest; his lip was bloody where he'd bitten it. "Well, is the bloody Wolf satisfied, now you've used your monstrous strength to sodomise me?" he hissed through teeth still clenched with pain and humiliation.
The wolf snapped and snarled. Where is your submission, pup? Remus stood and picked Severus' torn shirt, using it to wipe himself clean before tossing the rag back to the floor. Snape's eyes fastened unwillingly the werewolf's cock, still dauntingly large in its semi-erect state.
Lupin noticed where Snape was looking and smiled, cruelly. "Oh no, we're just beginning."
The day of the full moon, Dumbledore dropped the magic-inhibiting wards and apparated in. He was greeted by an almost domestic scene; Remus, sitting on the lumpy dingy bed, sipping coffee and reading the Daily Prophet. At his feet, nude and collared, Snape knelt in a submissive posture, knees splayed wide and wrists crossed behind his back; a leather strap had been tied tightly around the erect cock and balls, pushing them forward for display. His head snapped up in hope of rescue at the sound of apparition, but Albus only briefly glanced at him with twinkling eyes, overlooking the state of dishabille his current potions master was in. "Ah, Remus! I take it you have worked out your differences, then?"
Remus stood, placing a proprietary hand on Snape's head, twining fingers into the limp locks of dark hair and pushing down on the top of his skull; the other man lowered his head and looked down at the floor. "Severus has agreed to brew the potion and get along this year, for Harry's sake and for the Order."
Dumbledore tilted his head and inquired, "Severus?"
For a moment, Snape thought he would be rescued, after all - but Lupin's hand tightened in his hair, and when he met the headmaster's eyes they were without mercy. "Yes, of course, Albus," he said, dully.