The Argument

It was another fight again.

Remus was almost glad. He'd somewhat missed the fighting.

He'd never fought with James and Sirius and The Boy Who Has Been Written Out Of Your Existence, Remus Lupin (they called him Wormtail and even then if he was in the room some of them would wince). Well, they'd rough-housed and all, but even then he'd been reluctant to take part. Werewolf strength snapped bones too easily, and teenage feelings were injured too quickly, for him to risk physical or verbal assaults.

When Sirius came back the first time, back from Azkaban, he'd all but forgotten that he Didn't Fight With Sirius. It had been twelve years, after all. He'd grown up. He'd gotten into a lot of other fights with other people and he'd made other friends, which cut the desperation of please-like-me just a bit, though that never really went away. He still hated it when people didn't like him, but he didn't let it stop him from shouting anymore.

The first time he and Sirius had disagreed on something, Sirius had been stunned to snap at him and find him snapping back. It had, for all intents and purposes, ended the fight through sheer surprise.

But Sirius was still Sirius and even when they fought there was something beneath the sharp or shouted words; there was an underpulse that neither could ignore, which said now we might argue but when it ends it ends and we're still brothers, nothing changes that. Sirius knew that if Remus was insane enough to agree to help him kill That Boy Whose Name You Don't Say, Remus would stand by him when it really counted. Remus knew that Sirius didn't have anyone else, which was an odd sensation of power.

He'd missed the fighting after Sirius died.

Perhaps Severus Snape knew that; Severus was one of the few people who really, truly, and permanently didn't like Remus, but he did, in his own way, notice things others didn't. And if he wanted someone willing to shout and be shouted at, Remus did appear to be the man.

So Snape had started coming round Twelve Grimmauld Place more often, when Remus was there, and generally being his snide, sarcastic, less-than-charming self. He started objecting to Order plans on the barest of pretexts, and Remus was always the one sent to placate and convince him. This resulted in a lot of arguing, though Remus generally won out in the end. Occasionally a door would even be slammed. The Weasley children, who had grown up in a house where their parents' fights were almost laughably ridiculous, were frightened by the earnestness of the battles between Professor Snape and their old Professor Lupin. Hermione usually found Ginny and hid with her, since her own parents were eerily amiable. Harry just ignored them, most of the time.

"You cannot expect me to accept that -- that errant child as a student again!" Snape shouted.

"I'm not expecting you to, I'm ordering you to!" Remus replied, equally as loud. "This is not an optional elective at school, Severus! This is Harry's sanity and possibly his life!"

"Neither of which I particularly care about!"

"The Order's secrets are at stake," Remus said, trying to calm himself. He lowered his voice. "What Harry knows, Voldemort can pick from his brain. We both know that. Harry knows you're a double-agent -- "

"Harry Potter is an imbecile who ought to be locked up for the public good!"

"You brutal bastard, he's sixteen years old!"

"Then he ought to know enough to do as he's told!" Snape said, face flushing, stepping forward. Remus, who has seen far worse things than an angry Potions professor, stepped up too, so that they were eye to eye in the small meeting-room they'd gone to, to debate this particular problem.

"You are still not being given an options, Severus," he growled. "Teach the boy or leave the Order."

"That sounds like a fine option to me."

"Do you care nothing at all for him? How can you stand there, you bastard -- "

"I care nothing? I care nothing? You're a threat to his life just by existing -- "

"How dare you, you bastard -- "

"Monster!"

"Snake!"

"Idiot Gryffindor!"

"Cold-hearted -- " He was halfway through the insult when the other man moved, suddenly, and his reflexes kicked in; he brought his arms up to knock Snape's aside, and would have moved them through the arch to shove the man firmly in the chest, but Snape's mouth had already locked on his, and they had gone sprawling, off-balance, back into the wall.

Remus struggled against the sudden and surprisingly firm weight pressing him down; he couldn't get any leverage, and he was too shocked to slide away. Severus' mouth was sealed against his, cutting off his breath; it was suddenly too warm to breathe anyway, and Remus finally stopped moving, letting the wall take his full weight. Severus finally released his mouth, and drew back. They stared at each other warily for a minute, Remus still pressed to the wall, chests rising and falling against the other's. Finally, Remus licked his lips.

"Ah..." he said slowly. Severus was staring at him, dark eyes hooded, hair falling around his face. He tried to push himself up a little, using the wall as a prop. "Ah..."

"Don't speak," Severus snarled. He felt long, deft fingers pin his head back against the stone wall, and then he was being kissed again, drowning for air, there was no other way to describe it; he opened his mouth wider for breath and felt the other man's tongue flick over his teeth, before Severus tilted his head slightly and then he began kissing back, because there didn't seem to be anything else to do.

Suddenly the hard breathing turned to a sort of weight-shift, an urgent thrust of body-on-body timed to match the soft sounds they made whenever their lips slipped apart, and Remus tilted his head back when Severus bit his neck, not gently either -- viciously, as if he wanted to draw blood. He was being shoved into the wall, and didn't care, because one of Severus' lovely nimble hands was spreading across his belly as the other man moved, pinning him only half now, clawing off his belt and ripping at his already-threadbare trousers.

Remus fumbled with Severus' own flies, untucking the usual black tunic he wore and flatting his hands against the thin waist, sliding them up over his chest as small buttons began to pop out of their holes. Severus growled and pressed closer, his left thigh between Remus' legs, hand wrapped around Remus' ribcage, holding him flat as he pushed against him.

The other hand was tugging the threadbare trousers down, and then Remus found himself being turned; found his cheek pressed to the cold stone wall and his legs, now bare above mid-thigh, pushed apart as much as they would go. Severus, breathing raggedly in his ear, pushed against him, trousers unbuttoned but still on, erection hard through the fabric. Remus moaned and reached for him, but another hand had already crept down his side, and Severus grasped him, urgently.

"Make no noise," Severus grunted, in his ear, and Remus struggled to comply, even as Severus produced his wand and murmured a spell that filled him. He gasped silently, trying to draw sufficient breath, as he felt fabric press against him again, this time on his thighs.

In a swift, sudden movement, he was being taken by Severus Snape, most of his clothing still on, thrust up against a wall in a houseful of people waiting in other rooms to hear the outcome of their argument, and now he understood the injunction to be silent. He was being kissed and bit and licked across his shoulders as one deft hand stroked him and the other held his hip so that wonderful, rough, hot pressure inside him wouldn't slip away. Suddenly, he was being fucked blind by a man who hated his guts and it felt so good --

"Silent," Severus moaned softly, as his thrusts grew quicker. "Quiet. No noise. Yes. Yes..."

Remus came obediently silent, against the wall, and he could feel the tension of his orgasm pull Severus down with him -- fingers clenching on his skin hard enough to leave bruises, if werewolves ever bruised.

He caught his breath, panting, still pressed against cold stone. Behind him, Severus moaned into his shoulderblade, and pulled away.

Neither of them had actually managed to get fully out of any particular article of clothing. Remus straightened, slowly, and felt a muttered Scourgify wash over him.

He closed his eyes, gathered his wits, and turned around, pulling his trousers back over his hips as he did so.

"We must have a private training room," Severus said, and Remus blinked, confused, until he realised he was being conditions for Harry's re-acceptance as an Occlumency student.

"Easily arranged."

"The whelp must be held accountable. He's to be graded on his training. He can leave one of his other elective courses."

"I'll arrange it with Dumbledore."

"My reports will be made to you."

Remus met his eyes, and cocked his head. "Me?"

"To you," Severus repeated. His mouth, which had so recently been tasting every inch of Remus' skin within reach, quirked up slightly. "He respects you more than Dumbledore."

"Ah."

"Twice monthly. Here, or at Hogwarts. I expect you to discipline the boy if his progress is not satisfactory."

Remus considered. He was not blind to the implications of the personally-delivered progress reports.

He meditated briefly on the fact that he hadn't had an orgasm that good in years. Literally.

"Fair enough," he said finally.

Snape gave him a curt nod, repaired the missing buttons on his shirt with a quick motion, shook his head to put his hair into order, and left.

***

Harry and Ron, lying across a dusty four-poster and peering through the charmed spyhole they'd found, three rooms away, and looked at each other.

"Reckon he and Sirius ever did that?" Harry said thoughtfully. Ron propped his chin on his hands, while Harry rolled over -- then quickly rolled back. The bed shifted, and Ron bit his lip.

"Looked like it hurt a bit," he said pensively.

"I dunno, looked like Professor Snape was enjoying it," Harry wrinkled his nose. There was a contemplative silence.

"Reckon we ought to give it a go sometime?" Ron asked hesitantly. "I mean."

"If people who don't even like each other -- "

" -- And we're best friends," Ron said hastily. Harry's hip bumped against his, and he bit his lip again.

"Guess we could look up that spell Snape used," Harry admitted.

"Let's not ask Hermione about that one."

"Tell you what," Harry added. "I'm er...going to...do an errand...but I'll meet you in the library? In fifteen minutes?"

"Best make it twenty," Ron said, not moving as Harry slid off the bed, for which Harry was very grateful. "And...there's that third floor room with the bolt on the door, we could uh...meet there to try out the spell."

Harry ran into Remus in the hallway, as they headed in opposite directions. Neither met the other's eye.

Ron was less lucky. Severus Snape caught him looking at the books in the less legitimate section of the Black family library, and he had to quickly shove the book under his jumper before being ordered away -- though admittedly with less acid than usual, at least for Snape.

That fall, Severus Snape was scrupulously honest in reporting Harry's progress, or lack thereof, to the werewolf who resided at 12 Grimmauld Place, and Harry and Ron taught the spell to at least three other curious boys in their year at Hogwarts.

END