"Owling at the Moon", Or "Dickens was a Right Bastard"
a Harry Potter story
by sharondownonthefarm
I. Snape Dickens, it must be observed, was a bloody liar. It never snows in England on Christmas Eve - a soggy, icy rain is much more likely, such as was falling outside of Hogwarts on this particular night. No one in Britain eats Turkey - that's an American perversion. Tiny Tim almost certainly died of poliomyelitis or tuberculosis or something equally horrible. And you cannot make a dark, miserable man into a cheery soul by having ghosts come visit him and remind him that he will eventually die. If you could, the Bloody Baron's annual Christmas call upon the Slytherins would have improved Severus Snape's nature, perhaps turned his mood towards jolly. It did not.
With an icy bow, the Baron finished dispensing his bleak greetings to the Slytherin students, most of whom were respectfully silent (or mute with terror, in the case of the first-years). As the ghost passed through the walls of the green-draped dungeon, he wished the Master of Slytherin House "Happy Chanukah." Snape nodded an equally cold greeting, and turned back to lecturing his House on behavior befitting a Slytherin over the Christmas Holidays. The point of the lecture was not so much, "behave yourself" as "try not to draw attention to yourself." The destruction that Voldemort had wreaked before his final defeat had left a deep residual anger towards the families of the Dark Lord's allies. Most of these children had not participated in the violence that their parents and relatives had caused, but that would not prevent fools from attacking them, imagining that eleven year olds were wholly responsible for the actions of the adults around them. Although he would not have admitted it, Snape was worried about them - among other things.
Adam Bulstrode and a few others ventured Chanukah wishes to the Potions Master as well. Delphinium Parkinson, blushing, even pressed a small, soft package in blue and white into his hands. As politely as he could, Snape thanked her, although he feared that she had yet again knitted something hideous for him. Merlin preserve him, he thought, from third-years with crushes on their Head of House. Fortunately, such things were almost invariably self- limiting, and soon enough the girl would discover boys or girls her own age.
The students' leaving ought to have been a great relief to Snape, but oddly, it was not. He, was, of course, pleased at being alone and spared the tedious dramas of adolescence for a few weeks, but he could not shake a feeling of disquietude that had been plaguing him all term, and had lately become more acute. On the surface of things, this should have been the best year in many for Snape. The Dark Lord was dead. After years of physical and emotional torture at Voldemort's hands, and the strain of being a double agent, he was finally free of the dark mark, free of the obligation to serve others, and free to do whatever he wanted.
It was that last that gave Snape pause. For years, "want" was not a word in his vocabulary. There were things he would prefer not to do - mostly things, like cruciatus and counselling students, that his work either as a Professor or a spy required him to perform; and there were moments when he felt with certainty that one thing was somewhat preferrable to another, that is, that tea and a book in front of his fire was nicer than freezing one's nether parts off while sucking up to Voldemort. But at no time in the last twenty years had Severus Snape been free to consider what he might want in life. And so, after the Dark Lord's defeat, he had continued on much as he had in the past, only without the excitement of spying or the shooting pains in his arm from the Dark Mark. He certainly missed neither experience. But something vague was absent from his life. And the one thing he was fairly certain he would like to have, he was completely unable to find a way to acquire. So while one would be hard-pressed to guess what Snape was feeling, it did seem that perhaps, at least this holiday season, he had been less jolly than usual.
Less jolly, in Snape's case, manifested itself as more cranky, less generous and more bitter than usual. For weeks now, Snape had been taking off house points and giving detentions with a vengeance, snapping at his fellow faculty members, and stalking off to his dungeons when asked, as delicately as possible, who shoved a bumblebee in his robes. Even Dumbledore had been given pause after Snape, who ordinarily treated the Headmaster with at least minimal respect, told him to "piss off" when Dumbledore asked Snape if he was quite all right. All the shocked faculty who overheard the exchange agreed that it was not only uncharacteristic, but not up to Severus's usual high creative standards of insult. And at that point, they officially began to worry about him.
II. Nearly everyone else "He needs to be useful. Is there a potions research project you could set him to, Poppy?" Minerva McGonagall looked hopefully at the Infirmarian. Most of the faculty had come together in the staffroom to celebrate the students finally departing with chat and libations, and conversation had naturally turned to the question of "What to Do About Severus."
"I can't think what. The Infirmary is completely empty, and everyone has been unusually healthy this year." Poppy cheerfully doffed her glass of eggnog in Minerva's direction.
The staff discussed possible areas for potions research, but nothing particularly compelling was proposed. Snape would recognize busywork instantly. Besides, keeping the man cooped up in the dungeon longer wasn't really the point.
"He needs to get out and see the world," piped up Flitwick. "Travel would be good for him. A change of scene."
"You know he won't go anywhere - Albus tried that already, offered him a year's vacation, paid and with benefits, and he said he wasn't interested." McGonagall rolled her eyes. She, she thought, would have been off the Greek isles without a blink.
"Light and sunshine. A bathing holiday." Suggested Professor Sprout, as the rest of the faculty shook their heads, attempting to remove various images of a pale, sallow Snape in bathing trunks from their heads.
Snape would have been shocked to realize how fond of him his colleagues really were. They had all come to terms with his crabbiness over the years and learned to ignore his sarcasm. Indeed, Minerva and Eulalie Sprout were quite protective of Severus. Despite the jokes at his expense (which would have been the only part Snape would have heard, had he been present), they all were genuinely concerned for a man that most would have, if pressed, called friend.
"He really needs to get laid." This last was said with finality by Madame Hooch, who had quite a gift for getting to the point.
That was, of course, the perfect solution. If it didn't improve Snape's mood, it would at the very least distract him temporarily. And the perfect candidate to do the deed (something most of the men and women in the room would have preferred not to contemplate too closely) already existed and clearly had feelings for Snape. It even seemed possible that Snape had some interest in this other as well (no one quite wanted to use the word "feelings" to describe anything Severus might experience). The two had been seen kissing at Halloween. There had been several awkward moments witnessed by various members of the Hogwarts community. It seemed certain that the two wanted to shag. And yet they did not. In fact, they barely spoke to one another. And no one had the slightest idea how to get the snarky potions master and the reserved werewolf into bed with one another. They changed tacks again.
"Maybe it's the Jewish thing?" asked Professor Sprout "It must get rather tedious to have Christmas shoved in your face every year. Perhaps he'd enjoy a Chanukah party?"
They all laughed at the vision of Severus Snape lighting menorahs and leading the staff in choruses of "Rock of Ages," and gave way to discussion of the upcoming Christmas feast. "But..." Said Madame Hooch, drawing them back to the subject at hand, "Look, they obviously fancy each other. I've seen Severus staring at Remus when he thinks no one is looking. And Remus has been so alone since Black died. I've seen him looking too. There must be something we can do to move them along. Even Albus won't live long enough to see it if we wait until one of them gets up their nerve."
"Well, what would you suggest, Honoria?" This was said with some asperity, as Minerva had been wracking her considerable brains on just this subject for weeks.
"Can't we just lock them naked in a room together?" Hooch asked practically.
"Which one do you want to take on? You don't mind your body parts scattered from here to Hogsmeade when you stage a surprise attack on one of them and attempt to take off their clothes? They are both quite accomplished duellers" Flitwick pointed out the difficulties.
"Get them drunk at the feast?" Sophronia Sinistra suggested.
"Full Moon tonight - Lupin won't be out of bed until Christmas is over."
"And there's no tradition of Chanukah drunkenness that we're aware of?" Asked Sinistra.
"Sadly, none." answered Flitwick. "I've checked the literature."
"Perhaps," said Minerva slowly, "We should ask Albus to intervene..."
III. Lupin The werewolf under discussion was a bit out of sorts himself. Christmas was not Remus Job Lupin's favorite holiday. He always missed James, Lily and Sirius most at Christmas. And with Harry celebrating Christmas at the Weasleys, Remus felt a bit bereft. The closest thing he had left to a family now had another family entirely. Moreover, the full moon was due that very night, on Christmas Eve, which meant no holiday celebration for him anyhow. Add to that the fact that his level of sexual frustration after two and half years, was fairly high and it made for an annoying holiday. Remus had never been one to indulge in self-pity, and he did not start now. But he found it hard to manage his usual degree of good cheer. It seemed a terrible effort to smile and pretend to be happy.
He hoped, however, that no one had noticed his mood, and turned to his next concern, the wrapping of presents. Best he got them wrapped and delivered before the full moon. He had put quite a lot of effort into finding the proper gift for the proper person, and it gave him a great deal of pleasure. The gifts for Harry, Hermione and the Weasleys he'd already packed up and sent by owl, but the rest of the faculty was yet to be delivered. He set out Dumbledore's socks, Minerva's crystal hair clips, Hagrid's protective gloves, Poppy's novel, and began to wrap them. The House Elves would pass them out at the feast this evening, along with the rest of the gifts. But there was one gift he ought to deliver himself, since there was an excellent chance that Severus Snape would skip the Christmas feast entirely, and because, well, he'd be seeing the man anyway this afternoon.
He'd put some time and effort into Snape's present. Snape had family money, and the wherewithall to indulge any conscious wish he had, entirely unlike Lupin. But Lupin had noticed during his occasional visits to Severus's quarters that even allowing for the man's ascetic tastes, Snape seemed to have comparatively few indulgences. His quarters were filled with books, but mostly books pertaining to his work. His robes were elegant and tastefully made, but there weren't many of them. The furniture in his rooms was of high quality, but sparse. Severus Snape, heir to an old wizarding family, potions master of Hogwarts was much in evidence in his rooms. Severus Snape the man was practically invisible. Lupin hoped the gift he was giving might alter that just a little. And perhaps make up for one of the many grudges that Snape was still holding.
He remembered it well. On the train home during fifth year, James and Sirius had cornered Snape in an empty carriage. Somewhere, Sirius had found out that Snape's family name had been "Snapowitz" and the two were insulting Severus about being from the "old country." The accents they had put on had seemed funny to him at first, but things turned ugly (as they so often had) quickly, when Snape had refused to cower. Lupin still blushed with shame when he thought of some of the things that particularly Sirius had said, the anti-semitic buttons he'd casually pushed. Oh, Snape had been nasty too, but Sirius had (again) gone too far, and though Lupin had known that his friend was no bigot, but merely seeking another way to get to Snape, he'd regretted permitting it for years. And after that day, he never remembered Snape publically acknowledging that he was Jewish again. Even during the years when Sirius was in Azkaban and they spent a few holidays together, neither had ever discussed that particular incident, or Snape's religion again.
Lupin wrapped the small, delicately worked, copper and brass menorah he'd picked for Snape. He knew of no such item residing in Snape's quarters, and its elegance reminded him a bit of the Potions Master. He even thought he might ask to join the other man to light candles on the last night, since he should be recovered from the moon then.
"Might as well," he said aloud to himself. It was time for his wolfsbane anyhow, and it was always interesting to watch how Severus reacted to kindness. There was a decent chance that he'd be thrown out of Snape's quarters and ordered never to darken his door again. An equal chance that Lupin would be thanked stiffly and that he'd never see the menorah again. A small chance that he'd get a smile from the man. A minute chance that he'd be thrown down on the bed and be kissed until... No, wait, no chance at all of that. Effusive was not Severus's way. Still, getting a rise out of the Slytherin was moderately entertaining.
IV. Dumbledore The request he'd received that morning from the faculty, via Minerva, was intriguing. She'd been blunt.
"Albus, we cannot take another week of Lupin mooning and Snape sniping. If you don't arrange something to bring them together, we'll....hide your chocolate frogs."
"Ah," he answered calmly. "There is nothing I like better, my dear, than a well delivered ultimatum. I cannot possibly do without infusions of chocolate, not to mention working on my card collection, so I suppose I shall have to do as you ask."
"What are you going to do? I assure you, we tried everything we could think of before coming to you."
"I shall simply have to provide them with an opportunity to address the issue."
"Albus, they've had every opportunity to get together. I dislike insulting my colleagues, but I have never seen a romance managed so incompetently in all my days."
"I suspect that with the proper incentives, it can be dealt with. Trust me, Minerva. You trusted me to defeat Voldemort, and while this may be rather more complex an undertaking, I suspect I am still up for it, wasted as my powers are."
"Your powers are not wasted, Albus, as you demonstrated to ME yesterday morning."
"I'm glad you enjoyed it, Minerva. Tonight, then?
"Absolutely."
V. Snape Again Severus Snape downed his second shot of brandy in 20 minutes. The werewolf was late, and it was making him anxious - not to mention cranky. Not only did he profoundly dislike being with the other man in the immediate temporal vicinity of his transformation, but if failed to arrive soon, there'd be no time for Remus to appreciate his Christmas gift, one that Snape had gone to considerable trouble to acquire. It had taken him nearly an hour to convince the owl to wear a red ribbon around its perfectly white neck, and it was looking quite as peevish as Snape himself. He'd been plotting this gift for months - first noting that Lupin used the school owls, unlike all the other faculty, then locating an owl, Mehitabelle, that was a perfect twin to Potter's owl. It had taken some time, effort and expense, and he'd found it strangely satisfying, although Snape had gotten thoroughly sick of the sound of carols while out shopping. He considered the pleasure he'd gotten from the whole thing with curiosity - perhaps there was something to this gift thing. Hearing sounds outside his door, however, Snape ceased musing and banished the owl to the closet, which displeased it further.
As Lupin's fist raised to knock on the door, an irritable Snape opened it.
"About time. I thought you were planning on running mad on the grounds again."
"Another night, perhaps, Severus." Lupin looked up at him mildly, although there was the same edginess to his smile that always appeared near the full moon. He was pale and shaking slightly.
"I have your goblet. Enjoy." The sneer was more habitual than deeply felt, and Lupin ignored it entirely. Snape felt a bit at a loss - what did people say to each other when they weren't sniping? He made a mental note to pay more attention to the conventions of conversation when the opportunity presented itself.
"Thank you, Severus. I appreciate your making it for me." The werewolf's eyes watered slightly, and Snape hoped fervently that there'd be no tears of gratitude.
Yes, he would thank me, thought Snape. The werewolf never failed to be grateful for the disgusting stew he was obliged to drink, and it was rather annoying. Who wants to thrust a gift upon someone who is already excessively appreciative?. He hesitated, not sure if now was the moment to offer up the owl.
"I have something for you...I...." Lupin hesitated.
Snape waited. There was something in the other man's face that transfixed him. He waited to hear more, and did.
"Hnnnnn....Tchoooo! Ehhhtchhoooo!" Lupin sneezed into his sleeve. He shook his head slightly and blinked, looking suddenly years younger. Snape felt strangely as though the two were schoolboys again.
"Yes, well, Lupin, in keeping with the season, I have..." Snape paused, watching Lupin's face. Yes, he was going to sneeze again. The Defense Professor's grey eyes were tearing, and his lips trembled slightly as he drew breath.
"Haaaaaaaahhhh....Hennnnhhhhh.... Hehtchsooo!! Tschooo!"
Severus Snape couldn't stop looking at the other man, and he was aware that his expression had softened into something entirely other than his usual glare. Lupin had fumbled around, seeking a handkerchief, and finally located something with a faint, greyish resemblance to one. He blew his nose firmly. While he did so, Snape attempted to reconstruct his expression into something more characteristic. He resisted the temptation to bless the other man, but it required a surprising amount of effort.
"Severus, I wanted to say... " Another spasm of sneezes overtook the werewolf before Snape could protest that it was he who had something to say. Again, the Potions Master found himself frankly staring at Lupin's gentle face, contorted by the need to sneeze.
Finally, gasping, Lupin gathered control of himself. Snape raised his hand, wanting while there was still time before moonrise, to make his presentation, but Lupin stopped him.
"Ethhhchhoo! Severus, is there....hannnnhhh..an owl in here?" Over his handkerchief, the watery eyes looked quizzically at Snape.
It took a moment for the potions master to grasp the import of this question, but when he did, Snape was unable to think of an obscenity sufficiently offensive to express his thoughts. He sighed slightly, as he answered the other man, "Oh, yes, just someone awaiting a reply on a clerical matter. I hadn't realized you were allergic."
Lupin's smile of apology was radiant, but swiftly covered by his handkerchief as sneezes overtook him again.
"Perhaps you'd best get out of here, Lupin. I can't imagine you want to do all that snuffling as a wolf, and I can't offer you anything this close to the moon." Snape looked particularly forbidding, inwardly cursing himself. His tone was less kind than his words, and it gave the impression that the other man had somehow offended him.
"But...." Lupin was hustled out the door into the dungeon corridor before he could finish either his objection or the most immenent pending sneeze, gift resting in his pocket. He sighed and sniffled, wondering what he'd done this time, and turned back towards his rooms, determined to resolve the problem at the earliest possible moment after the full moon.
"Bloody fuck." After removing the sneezing werewolf, Snape set, cursing, to the removal of red ribbons from a most displeased owl, and wondering now what he ought to do next. More brandy, perhaps. "Bloody fuck. Dickens really was a right bastard, wasn't he?"
VI. Dumbledore Again "A Merry belated Christmas, my dear Remus." The old man's eyes were twinkling even more than usual. " I trust you received your Christmas gifts?"
"Yes, thank you, Headmaster. How did you know that hot pink was er...one of my favorite colors?" Remus looked pale and much as he did after each full moon, but in good spirits.
"I'm delighted to hear it - I asked Sibyll to gaze into her crystal ball and tell me what you might like best. Clearly she was successful, although I wasn't entirely sure it was your size. But it seemed as though the vibrations might be soothing after the moon."
"I appreciate the thought... I must remember to tell Sibyll how much I appreciate it also" Remus Lupin wished for a moment that he was Severus Snape, and could tell Sibyll precisely how much he appreciated the item in question.
"And your other gifts? I know Severus went to considerable trouble to acquire your gift. She's quite a beauty, isn't she?"
"Um, who?"
"Why the fine lady Severus procured for you, of course."
"Um...procured?" Remus was famous for his aplomb. Greet him with insults, and he responded with grace. He was alway civil, and he alway said the right thing. Dumbledore had the pleasure of seeing something quite a few would have paid to see, Remus Lupin stunned into complete incoherence at the thought that Severus had not only bought him a Christmas gift, but a female one.
"And just exactly a twin to Harry's. I hope you get as much enjoyment out of yours as Harry clearly is from his."
"Um -" Oh dear Gods, Remus thought, a twin to Ginny?
"A Hogwarts professor could make real use of such a lovely....My dear Remus, are you quite all right? You're color is quite high. Don't you like white feathers?"
'Um-" White Feathers?
"Did you want to say something? You really look quite awful."
"Um - Headmaster, are you suggesting that Professor Snape got me a woman? For what purpose? Women are not my .... um... Well, I didn't think that Severus either... Um... and what does she... you can't mean...um..." Later, when Albus Dumbledore lay in bed, describing the scene to Minerva McGonagall, she would regret profoundly missing this speech, although she had her doubts about whether she might not have ruined the effect with hysterical laughter.
It was possible that Dumbledore's eyes had actually gone beyond twinkling, and were dancing around like firelight.
"Far be it from me to ruin Severus's surprise. But I know he was most delighted by the gift and quite pleased at the thought of giving it to you. Perhaps you should pay a visit to the dungeons, my dear boy."
Remus turned obediently, and headed, head shaking, towards the dungeon, trying in his head to compose a polite refusal to a hooker in white feathers. Perhaps he could use his allergies as an excuse. But if he did, she might offer to remove them...
He was sufficiently deep in thought that he didn't notice the chuckle behind him, nor the quiet and satisfied, "That should do it."
VII. Snape and Lupin The owl had refused to leave. It could certainly not have become attached to him, given that it kept biting hi ears, but it would not leave, either. What to do with Mehitabelle was just one of Snape's several difficulties, among them, what to give Remus Lupin for Christmas instead of the owl, how to live down the shame of owning an owl that looked precisely like that fool Potter's pet, and what potion to put on the wounds on his ears. Also, what poison to take that would render him sufficiently dead so that he would never give in to the impulse to buy a gift for anyone again. Life, he sighed, was a constant struggle. Nor had he forgiven Dickens for the momentary impulse to be nice. A shiny, green Slytherin dagger was at present slicing apart a copy of "A Christmas Carol." The dagger had been a remarkably appropropriate Chanukah gift from Professor Trelawney, and was being put to far better use than the chocolates Flitwick had given him or the whistling, vibrating monstrosity from the Headmaster, the purpose of which escaped him.
A knock sounded on his door. And again, rather insistently. Putting down the book and dagger, Snape rose to answer the door. It was a pale, shaky and remarkably bewildered looking werewolf.
"Severus, I wanted to speak to you. About Christmas. And Chanukah. But first, I'm afraid there has been some confusion. I am not interested in women. In fact, I would have thought that would be obvious given my prior history, and our prior history, and well... I thought when I kissed you at Halloween... Albus told me about your gift, and I appreciate the thought, but I would much prefer...well that's not important now, but women, especially women in white feathers, to which I am allergic, are not a suitable gift.
"Lupin, you are babbling. I was not aware you were allergic to women, which must make it tedious to sit at the high table, given that half the faculty is female, but otherwise I haven't the foggiest idea what you are talking about, and cannot say that I particularly care" Snape's face had fallen into the sneer that he used to conceal confusion.
"I'm not allergic to women, I'm just not attracted to them. I am attracted to...oh bugger!"
Snape was just about to concur that he was entirely aware that buggering was Lupin's preference, one he happened to share and demand to know what the hell the Dark Arts Professor was talking about, when it registered on him that Lupin's curse was a reference to the forthcoming explosions of sneezes writ large upon the other man's face.
His eyes were half lidded, his head tilted back, and lips trembling slightly, Remus drew breath once, twice, three times, the last a deep sigh before the inevitable. "Hetxchhhhhaaaah! Huhhhh....Tcschooo! Eschoooo!...dear me." He blew his nose firmly and wiped his eyes. And for the second time in three day he asked, "Severus, is there an owl in here?"
In response, there came a swoop of wings, and a white feathered owl, a perfect twin to Harry's Hedwig, landed on the table in front of him, a bedraggled red Christmas ribbon only partly removed from her throat.
Lupin looked at her a grin that reflected the understanding dawning in his eyes. "Severus, what a beauty. And such lovely, white feathers!...Oh! Is she for me? How sweet!"
The effect was somewhat spoiled by his immediately throwing his head back and sneezing again. Snape watched with interest, sighing slightly.
"Lupin, I am most definitely not sweet. And yes, she was for you. I had not realized about your allergy. I wished to thank you for..." He trailed off, unable to think of an excuse for giving Lupin a gift. "Well, I had noticed that you did not have one." It was a weak finish, he noted with displeasure.
Remus waved his hand in a dismissive way, clearly suppressing another sneeze. "The number of things I'm aller...hah..allergic to... It is a wonderful gift, Severus. And thankfully, not the female prostitute that Albus's oblique references had led me to fear." The two men shared an eye roll at Dumbledore's meddling.
"Clearly not. I am not in the habit of pimping, Lupin. I do wish to be clear, however, that Mehitabelle was not an attempt to cause your head to explode, entertaining as that might be."
Remus hesitated, and then raised a finger, indicating he had something to say and a complete inability to speak., "Haaaaahetchhhh! Hnnnnnn...nnnnnn...ehhhhhhhh. Tisscccchhhh!"
"Severus, I love her. I wouldn't trade her for anything, and a little sneezing makes no difference."
"This is in no sense "a little sneezing," Lupin. Epic poems are written about this kind of sneezing."
Lupin grinned. I....I....Hatschhhhhhhh!...I have something for you as well. In the spirit of the season." He removed the small package from his pocket, suppressing yet another sneeze by biting his lip. He handed it to Snape.
Snape unwrapped the gift in silence. It was small, but heavy and elegant looking.
"I thought it looked like something that belonged in your quarters."
Snape remained silent.
"Severus, I hope you like it....oh Merlin..." He trailed off, another spasm of sneezes overtaking him. He blinked back allergic tears.
"Yes, thank you. It is quite lovely." Snape held the menorah, turning it in his hands. He did not look up.
"I thought if you didn't mind, we might light candles together. It is nearly sundown."
Snape looked up, surprised. He hesitated a moment, before nodding abruptly. "I suppose so, Lupin."
"You could call me Remus, you know. We've known each other for years."
Snape snapped, "You can hardly be ignorant of the fact that that is part of the problem." His face was more than ordinarily inscrutable.
Remus sniffed to hold back another sneeze. "And yet you've forgiven me enough to go to considerable effort to get me a Christmas gift. Can't you forgive me enough to call me by my name?"
"This isn't about forgiveness." Snape looked up at him, with a half- bitter, half-affectionate look Remus was uncertain how to respond to.
"Hetschooo! Hitschhhh! Ehhhh...Etschoo!..." Remus looked helplessly at Snape, and then seemed to lose his patience, something the other man had never seen before. "Damn it, Severus, I'm in no condition to have long drawn out conversations about the past, since I can't even fin....fiiiiii...finish a....Tschhh! Hechhhhhhh!...sentence. Can't we just appreciate that we've managed to achieve mutual deterrence on the gift front and go on from there...Ahhhhhtchhhhh!"
"Go where?" Snape's expression was neither sneering nor bleak, but Remus was at a loss to interpret it.
"Over to your mantle and light...ehhhhhh...light the menorah and then....Hahhhhheschhhhh! Somewhere where we can have dinner with no bloody owls about. Atcchhhhhh! Ehhhhhh....Etschhhhhh! Gods, I wish I could stop!"
Snape's face was entirely inscrutable. Finally, he spoke, "Lu....if you like, I can do something about the sneezing."
Remus paused, his right hand pressed firmly against his nose. "You have a potion?" He sounded both hopeful and sneezy, nose tickling as though it were filled with feathers, and he was certain he was on the verge of not one but many more sneezes.
Snape looked at him again for a moment. "Well, yes, but I meant I might be able to aid you in their suppression." And to Remus Lupin's astonishment, Snape leaned in and kissed him, pressing his lips firmly against Lupin's. The peppermint and rosemary taste of the other man's lips, and the rising sensation of pleasure caused by the kiss caused the urge to sneeze, not quite to subside, but to mix and blend with the electric shock of arousal. His breath hitched slightly, and Snape kissed harder, until the sneeze bowed to external pressure, and gasping, they broke apart.
Remus rubbed his nose, for lack of something better to do.
"Did that help?" Snape asked lightly, a strange hint of something that might have been a smile on his face.
"Er... yes somewhat." Remus was making no effort to keep from grinning like an idiot. "It is, I fear, a merely temporary measure."
"If you find yourself in urgent need, we could, I suppose, repeat the treatment. Or I could locate a potion...."
"No," Remus hastily assured Snape, "no potions." He blushed slightly.
"I am not offering you forgiveness, Lupin." The last word was added rather defiantly.
"I would not have assumed you were. But I'd like to think that we have at least achieved...detente?" Remus looked quizzically at the other man. For now, it was enough.
"Perhaps." Snape did not look directly at Lupin.
"Hhhhhh...Happy Chan....Chan...." The werewolf attempted futilely to hold back another sneeze. He thought how little he had appreciated his allergies in the past...they held hidden possibilities.
"Blast it, Lupin, stop talking so bloody much." Snape leaned over and kissed him, deferring more than one coming explosion.
Don't own 'em. No money being made. Please don't sue.
It follows the same basic sequence of the Halloween challenge fic. This was started for the Holiday challenge, and I simply haven't had time to finish it. Short of hanging on to it until next year, I figured I'd dump it on my pile of WIPs and hope you'll forgive me - it is something to read, at least. Also forgive the dearth of sneezing - much, much more is coming.