Fic: As The Sea Receives A Stream (Part 1 of 2)

[kinkfest-mod.livejournal.com]

Title: As The Sea Receives A Stream
Author: Anonymous
Kink Showcased: a/b/o dynamics, aristocracy
Rating: NC-17
Pairing(s): Severus Snape/Remus Lupin, background Narcissa Malfoy/Lucius Malfoy
Summary: A mock!period piece with a gothic touch.
Warnings: (highlight for details): * AU, a/b/o dynamics, anal, self-lubrication, classism, bigotry/prejudice, temporary imprisonment, injury, biting;
allusions to knotting, heat, mpreg, death penalty *
Word Count: ~19 500
Author's Notes: Warnings contain spoilers.



AS THE SEA RECEIVES A STREAM, PART ONE

Barberry Hall was a welcome sight in the dreary January weather. The tall building with its arched windows and the windswept tower had never been a particularly sensible choice as a residence for anyone who had lived there, but wizards at least were less bothered by a remote location and soil that was barely fit for farming. The land appeared to have a mind of its own, welcoming some and rejecting others. Old wives' tales reported incidents ranging from an unlucky hunting party pecked to death by the very pheasants they had deemed their prey; to the legend of three fortunate sisters coming back with eternal beauty for the eldest, endless wisdom for the second, and riches beyond measure for the youngest after a night of dancing under the moon.

When Severus Snape looked at his home he saw the freedom to do as he pleased and the lack of annoying neighbours, where others saw only desertion and loneliness. He saw untamed beauty in the rough landscape instead of dangers lurking around every corner. And he saw a clever investment in getting a vast estate for far less money than it was worth.

At the moment, however, it meant first and foremost shelter from the inhospitable conditions of a cold winter. Apparating had left small ice crystals clinging to his cloak and he shook them off while searching his pockets for a handkerchief to dry his face. It was almost fully dark and the forest around him came alive with foreign sounds and moving shadows.

The short walk to the front door would be unpleasant enough without dithering, but Severus took a moment to observe his surroundings and listen. This land was wilder than the streets of London or the manicured lawns of the Malfoy estate. There was a sense of hostility coming from the surrounding fields and grassy hills, and the encroaching trees and undergrowth had to be cut back every year or the house would be overgrown and lost.

He grumbled as cold slush began seeping into his boots and a few low-hanging branches snatched at his hair like long spindly fingers. It was all his own fault though, as no one had forced him to dine at his club instead of at home when the weather was so ghastly and he had not seen his husband in over a week. There had been something irrational and unappealing in the thought of finally returning home. He could not explain it. As foolish as it seemed now, it had made him turn in the opposite direction of his own house at the end of his workday.

Severus' heart became lighter when he reached the gravel path. He could not hear much beyond the crunching sounds made by his boots, although once or twice he thought there might have been twigs snapping behind his back. The following sound was louder and certainly real, but before he was half turned to look for the source of what he had heard, there was nothing but dark fur and wide jaws in his vision. A heavy weight crashed into him, making him lose his footing. There was nothing to stop his fall, and he had barely time to even think about reaching for his wand, before the creature had him flat on his back.

"Norris, no!" a voice shouted. "Come back here, you stupid mutt. Come here now!"

Severus recognised the voice of his butler, or rather factotum; quiet fury simmering in his guts. Luckily, the weight on him was gone as quickly as it had appeared.

"For heaven's sake, Filch!"

"Apologies, master," was the muttered reply, as Filch's dirty hands grabbed him beneath his arms without any concern for propriety and pulled him upright.

Severus bristled. His clothes were covered in wet sand and the burn of humiliation smarted, now that the first shock was over. Trying to brush himself off with little success, he gave up and turned his full attention to Filch.

"What is the meaning of this? What on earth are you doing out here with the help of this blasted beast at this hour?"

"Looking for poachers," the man hissed.

"Poachers. What are you thinking? There can't have been any kind of poaching around here for decades at least."

It was true. No poacher in their right mind would come to Barberry to supplement their pantry. The animals dwelling on his land were of a peculiar kind. They seemed to be less fearful and more aggressive than they should be. Herds of deer had overrun the herb and vegetable garden several times, stopping only to feed on what had not been trampled, even smashing their skulls against the panelled glass of the greenhouse to get to the more valuable plants inside. Filch had put up large nets to keep them at bay, although – now that he thought about it – there had been no further incident since last September. His husband must have worked as a good luck charm in more than one sense. Nevertheless, Severus preferred getting his share of venison elsewhere.

"I've seen strange traces and mauled carcasses. Someone is hunting with an untrained dog. I can show you, if you don't believe me." Filch sneered, his dog now happily panting by his side. "Anyway, I thought you'd appreciate it, sir. What with your husband always running off into the forest like a wood-sprite."

Filch had a particular way of saying the word. He said sir in the same manner in which one might address a rat or similar vermin. Severus had thought of replacing him many times, but since he did his job well enough, and the little staff he had were the only people he could find who were willing to stay on for longer than a few weeks, he never went through with it.

"I'm sure, we shall be safe for the night," Severus said finally to bring an end to the conversation. "Go back now; I'd like a bath in twenty minutes."

Filch narrowed his eyes, but gave him a nod regardless, then passed Severus without another word.

When he was a few paces away, Severus called after him. The man turned back, his expression dark.

"I hope you haven't forgotten what I said about following my husband."

"Aye," Filch grumbled. "Haven't done it since."

* * *

After taking his bath and wrapping himself up in his favourite basil-green dressing gown, Severus found himself in the dark private sitting room between his husband's bedroom and his own. The room had gone cold without a fire. Remus had already retired by the time he arrived, however, Severus had been determined to join him as soon as he was clean, considering the early hour of the evening. Surely, Remus could not be asleep yet.

There was no light or sound coming from the other side of the door. Severus was of two minds: he had certainly every right to see his husband and demand some attention after his absence, but would it not be selfish, if Remus was indeed unwell, as his being abed suggested. With his skin prickling all over in goose-bumps, he decided at last that finding out for himself was the best course of action.

The room was quiet, the only sounds coming from a ticking clock on the bedside table – a wedding present from Remus' parents – and the soft, steady breathing from the still form on the bed. Bright moonlight shone through the open curtains. It struck him how ill-fitting to his husband's disposition and taste the room was. Like the rest of the house, with the exception of his study and workrooms, it had been furnished with the help of his old friend Narcissa Malfoy, long before Severus had even so much as entertained the thought of matrimony. He had never cared for such frippery, but the necessity of having a presentable home had not been lost on him. Despite being richer now than many of the old purebloods who sat on impressive but insolvent properties, no amount of money would ever erase the origin of his fortune or the contamination of his blood by his brutish Muggle father.

It had been a happy compromise at the time: Narcissa was grateful for every project that involved spending someone else's money and Severus had been safe from having to put any real effort into the improvement of his house. This room as well as the others reflected a combination of Narcissa's own taste and what she thought Severus' taste ought to be.

Dark hardwood floors were shined to perfection, and the exquisite wooden furniture of the same shade was equally well maintained. The different tables, shelves, dressers, settee, desk and chairs matched perfectly. The hand-crafted damask wallpaper with its intricate charcoal pattern of leafy branches and regal birds made the room even darker. If one looked closely enough, one could see the sharpness of their beaks and the delicate lines of individual feathers. The dark grey of the sheets, cushions, covers and carpets was only interrupted by sparse accents of creamy white. The result was a room that revelled in the fact that its purpose were private matters. And although Severus would never have devised it thus for himself, he rather adored the outcome.

Lying on the bed like an offering was his husband. He seemed as pale as his silky nightshirt and as insubstantial as a ghost, resting there so neatly on his back with his arms on either side and the duvet pulled up to his shoulders, that Severus could have believed him to be a corpse artfully positioned for his wake, if it were not for the smallest movement of his chest as he drew breath.

An icy breeze from the open window made Severus shiver and pulled him out of his musings. He went to shut the window, frowning. Looking back to the bed, he saw that Remus was awake and smiling at him. He seemed neither surprised nor alarmed by the intrusion.

"I didn't expect you," he said, soft-spoken as ever. "No one's had any word."

"Yes. Well, we finished the order ahead of schedule. The new brewers are much more competent than I anticipated."

There was no reason to feel wrong-footed under his own roof and with his own husband, but he did. As if he was still an awkward schoolboy plagued with untimely knots who could only dream of the pleasures to be had in the arms an omega that would not look down on him because of his unpleasant face, traitorous accent and threadbare clothes. Sitting down on the side of the bed, Severus watched the duvet sliding down into Remus' lap as he moved closer, exposing the thin fabric of his nightshirt.

"I'm sorry you had such a poor welcome, I wouldn't have gone to bed, if I'd known you'd be back. Have you had dinner?"

Severus nodded and waved further apologies off.

"I ate at the club. I left before they started with cards, though. Parkinson was in high form, which, of course, made Lucius even more sullen. I don't know what it is with him lately. Normally, he would be overjoyed to watch one of his friends gamble away the rest of his ever shrinking funds. But enough of that," Severus said. Taking Remus' hands into his own, he was surprised to find them so warm. "How have things been here?"

"Good. The newly upholstered daybed for your study was delivered last week–"

"It's a simple couch!"

"If you say so. Well, everything looked to be in order. Aside from that, Mrs Fleet is convinced her brother needs a new kitchen to fully utilise his talents. You should probably talk to her. I tried dissuading her nicely, but I'm not sure how successful I was. I'd rather not spoil her dream that he'll one day be the chef of the finest restaurant in Diagon Alley, or better yet, cooking for the Minister himself."

His snort made Remus' smile widen.

"There were some invitations for you in the post. One of them is for Mrs Malfoy's birthday next week. It was heavily implied that your attendance is mandatory. Oh, and an application for a charitable donation to the Society for the Preservation of the Cardiff Alchemical Archive. I've put them in your study with the rest of your letters. Other than that, everything is pretty much the same as it was. Filch doesn't like anyone but his pets, and me least of all, since I made him clear the snow and ice off the greenhouse and the sunroom. He keeps glaring at me from the tower when he's feeding the owls."

"I'll speak to him."

Remus laughed, sliding his thumbs over Severus' palms in a gentle caress.

"Oh, it's no bother. He's an interesting character." Rolling his shoulders back and straightening up, he continued: "I rather enjoy his antics, I confess."

The smile Remus gave him was full of teeth. Severus shuddered. Rubbing his arms to chase away the cold, he looked back at the window to make a sure it was really closed.

"It's freezing in here. I don't know how you can sleep like that." He paused and shook himself, then sighed. "As much as I prefer it to town, the winters here are dreadful. I can never seem to get warm."

Remus looked it at him for a moment, his head tilted to the side, as though Severus was some foreign object under a magnifying glass. Then the corners of his mouth twitched and his unreadable eyes softened once more.

"Come," Remus said, holding out his arm in invitation and lifting the covers so that Severus could lie down beside him.

Something boisterous fluttered in his chest and a weight in his stomach flipped upside down. He went willingly and before he knew it, he was pressing his overly large and half-frozen nose into his husband's hot, fragrant neck, inhaling everything that was good in the world. Breathless laughter bubbled out of Remus, but Severus only buried his face deeper until he was surrounded by the scent he craved and could detect nothing else. He did not know how he could ever have likened him to something dead, to some spirit of decay, when he was so clearly a creature of sunlight, of spring and summer, of growing things and sparkling life.

The warmth of Remus' body worked like a balm, soothing away stress and anger and the bleakness that seemed to have seeped from the draughty streets of the city straight into his bones. He pushed the growing hardness between his legs against barely covered skin, biting off a groan. Even now, there was doubt niggling at the back of his mind, telling him to pull away and apologise, although everything here was his for the taking. He was no supplicant begging for a favour, not any more. If he wanted to behave like an animal and rut against his husband until the pure white fabric covering him was spoilt by his seed, he could.

A surge of energy went through him. He pushed himself up and took a deep breath. It would not do to embarrass himself by panting like a dog. This part of his life was still new, but there was no reason to advertise it. What kind of alpha would he be, if he was so easily undone? Remus was looking up at him, his face a picture of calm and patience with the hint of a curious smile. It had been so different on their wedding night. Severus could see no trace of those wide, apprehensive eyes now. He did not want his husband to be afraid, never that, but all those novels and volumes of poetry he had kept hidden at the bottom of his school trunk had told stories of awestruck omegas delirious with lust and crying out in agony until an alpha took pity on them, and his adolescent self had eaten up every word.

The arm reaching out for him was moving so carefully, as if its owner was afraid of spooking him. Gentle hands cupped his face and soft lips were pressed against his own. Severus swayed forward, his knees shuffling clumsily to keep his balance. Following the command of his lips, he returned the kiss, and deepened it with a thirst that should have been disconcerting. When Remus broke away, he looked less serene than before. Severus felt powerless looking into eyes clouded with something he could not name.

"I missed you."

The cheek pressing against his was as soft as the words. Severus had no time to mourn the loss of the touch when it was replaced with a pair of eager lips, applying sweet kisses to the side of his face, before coming to linger on his temple and finally retreating.

"I have missed your face."

How weak he was. When his husband asked him to close the curtains, Severus moved without thinking, banishing the moonlight with hands that were jittery with haste. He could barely see in the sudden darkness, but he did not stumble with the bed's siren song to guide him. He let his dressing gown fall from his shoulders on the way. With limbs gliding over smooth sheets, he blindly searched for skin, but found only the residue of warmth left behind by a body that was no longer there. Severus gasped when he felt the sting of teeth on his neck, before Remus' body pressed close from behind.

"I'm right here," was whispered into his ear.

Severus reached for him, but his husband was already moving him with sure touches until Severus was on all fours, disoriented and needy. His skin was tingling in the cool air and his cock and balls were so heavy with denied release that he would have promised Remus anything, anything at all, just to be allowed to satisfy himself.

At last there were limbs sliding against his own as Remus wrapped his arms around Severus' shoulders and pulled him down enough to taste his lips. Now Severus could feel the heat radiating off the body beneath him. Pushing his tongue deeper into the pliant mouth, Severus wanted nothing more than douse Remus in his scent. Fumbling with the flimsy fabric one-handed, he managed to push Remus' loose nightshirt up to his shoulders.

How deliciously exquisite it was to have no barrier between them. Severus moved as if possessed, rubbing himself against his husband, and biting the bared neck hard enough to bruise. His head was full of the familiar sweetness mixed with the undercurrent of a coming thunderstorm, and his nostrils flared to get it all into his lungs. A soothing hand eased down his spine as his leaking cock stained Remus' thighs and stomach. He was like a wave crashing into a rock, stirred by his need to conquer.

His mouth sought the sensitive skin of his husband's chest, suckling first one nipple then the other until they felt puffy and swollen against his lips. If it had been less dark, he would have been able to see their colour slowly deepen. Remus' body strained under the effort to keep still. When it got too much, Severus was drawn up into another kiss, while Remus' knees came up to bracket his hips. He could feel that Remus was just as hard as he was. Shifting his weight to position himself better, he sighed at the sensation of his shaft gliding over Remus' smaller scrotum.

His hand trembled as he stretched it out to touch Remus' hole. The slippery heat seemed to lure him. He wanted to push his fingers inside as far they would go, but he lingered on the rim, his thumb only circling the twitching muscle to make sure that his husband was ready to receive him. The wetness stuck to his fingers and he wished he could taste it.

Encouraging Remus to wrap his legs around his waist, Severus pushed his hips down, his cock sliding between plump cheeks. Before he had the chance to miss his target, Remus' delicate touch directed the tip of his cock to the right place. Assured of his success, he thrust deep. Wet heat engulfed him and he scarcely noticed the grip of Remus' legs tighten. A moan escaped him unbidden as he drew back more slowly. His heart hammering in his chest, he pushed himself into a mindless rhythm.

He had longed for this during the lonely nights when his business had kept him away, and he had nothing but dreams for company. With pleasure overriding all of his senses, the world around him dulled to a distant hum. Even while driving himself into his husband's body and filling the air around them with the wet echo of their coupling, he wanted more.

Severus stilled, taking a moment to catch his breath. Pulling out of Remus earned him a low sound of surprise. He instinctively leaned into the touch of Remus' hand on his cheek.

"What?" Remus asked, before pressing a careful kiss against Severus' slack lips. "What is it?"

He opened his mouth to answer, but the words would not come out. He felt his face flush.

"Have I done anything to displease you?"

He shook his head, frustrated with himself. How could he possibly hope to execute them, if he could not even voice his wishes. It had always seemed so dirty to him, dirty and disrespectful. He could only think with revulsion of what he had accidentally witnessed between his parents all those years ago. One might engage in such activities with one of those harlots for hire that populated the dark corners and seedy establishments of Knockturn Alley, but surely, it was not something one did to a spouse.

He refused to remember his first and only visit to Lucius' favourite haunt. The people there had been like an exhibition of misery. One half had reminded him of vicious birds of prey ready to devour him, and the other had looked so broken that even Severus' cold heart could not have borne the thought of touching them. And even the hour with one of Lucius' highly recommended omegas had been nothing but a costly exercise in futility and humiliation.

He rolled off to the side, and kept Remus from looking at him by wrapping his arms around his husband and pulling him back against his chest. He suppressed a whimper when his incessantly throbbing erection came into contact with the tempting rear. Severus sighed. Tightening his embrace and nuzzling into the fine hair at the nape of Remus' neck, he could not calm his wildly beating heart.

"I'm sorry, I've been away so much. I should not have left you alone in this big, empty place."

"You make it sound as though I've been banished to a locked tower like some fairy tale princess," Remus said, squeezing Severus' hands. "You needn't apologise, because I don't mind – or no, that's not quite it – I do mind, but I understand. You shouldn't think I'm unhappy here, because I'm not."

He pressed a kiss into Severus' palm, before placing the hand in question over his own heart. "You've been very good to me," he continued much more quietly, "and, apart from seeing you more often, I wouldn't change a thing about my life."

Severus closed his eyes and took a few deep breaths. Letting the words sink in, an idea struck him. Would not the act itself be rendered different by its method? Would it not be just as right and proper, if it was done out of love? He smiled into his husband's nape, then opened his lips to taste the velvety skin, and did not stop sucking it until he was sure he had left a mark.

He purposely ran his hands over Remus' body until he reached the hem of the nightshirt that had fallen back down around his middle. Lifting his pliant bedmate, Severus had no trouble pulling it up and over Remus' head, before flinging it away. Hesitating only for a second, he finally took Remus by the shoulders and turned him over onto his stomach.

"Oh," Remus breathed, followed by a stifled sound that could have been a chuckle, but Severus could not imagine what might have amused him.

Remus understood, just as he understood Severus in so many other things. His eyes, which had grown used to the dark, watched avidly as the lithe back stretched and arched and strong legs spread open only for him. Severus was on him in the blink of an eye, guiding himself back inside and bottoming out with a heartfelt groan until he could go no further. He pulled Remus back into his thrusts with a firm grip on his waist, his eyes closing with the pleasure coursing through his body.

He wanted to be closer still. He crouched over Remus until he could feel the back, now slick with sweat, pressed against his front. This was how he would do it. This was how he would breed his husband when the time came, trapped and helpless beneath him, and tied into place with Severus' knot.

With his shoulders flat on the mattress and his face half-smothered by a pillow, Remus' moans were muffled, but Severus could hear them now. He had never seen Remus so affected. Now that he paid attention, he could feel how Remus moved with him, how he pushed back into Severus' thrusts as though he was too impatient to be filled. What a glorious spectacle he made.

After knocking the obscuring pillow aside, he could enjoy Remus' desperate gasps much better. He covered the hands that were gripping the sheets like claws with his own until they relaxed enough for him to entwine their fingers. The need for his own release faded into the background as he rolled his hips. When he changed his pace and angle here and there, he was rewarded with other sounds, shifting muscles and an alluring constriction where he was buried deep.

He could tell that Remus struggled to keep quiet, but Severus found he rather delighted in trying to draw him out. Touching Remus' own hardness made even more of a difference, earning him short, breathy cries which were like the sweetest music to Severus' ears, particularly those resembling his name.

It seemed to simultaneously take a long time and no time at all until Remus noticeably tensed and let out a final long, low sound, before collapsing onto the bed. Severus' hips kept moving, although he was almost too distracted from own his pleasure by the sight of his husband panting and twitching beneath him. His own release swept over him shortly after nevertheless.

Slipping out of Remus' body and gracelessly flopping onto his back, Severus was sweaty and worn out. Remus looked down at him, with something wild in his eyes, before proceeding to drown Severus in deep, searching kisses that made him all the more light-headed. Spent as he was, he was powerless to do anything but receive what he was given until Remus' thirst was eventually sated.

Remus had always been light and quick, airy like a breeze rolling over the hills, but now he was heavy and slow. With his cheeks flushed and his limbs too boneless to move he rested against Severus' side and let himself be held by a man who had neglected him far too much. Severus regretted a great deal when he thought of the last four months. He had hardly spent two or three consecutive days at home during the time when they should have learned each other's ways as spouses, but his business had to come first. The chance alone to supply even one ward of St Mungo's with their more advanced potions was too great an opportunity to pass. It was a risk, like any investment, to try and expand when there was no real need for it. He was more than comfortable, but so much had changed in the last eighteen months.

There had been no one to please but himself after his mother's death. But now he had to think of his husband. And although he had never cared for children in general and the thought of letting the Snape name die out with him had given him spiteful pleasure in his youth, he had changed his mind when it became clear how much there would be to pass on. So he would have an heir and probably more children after that, if his expectation of the immense pleasures of heat and breeding proved to be true. They all had to be taken care of when he died and securing a contract with St Mungo's, which would multiply his current profits, was a safe way of reaching that goal.

Nevertheless, he wished there had been another way. Although Remus had never shown signs of distress and Severus had never heard a word of complaint from his husband, he must have been bitterly disappointed when Severus had not only delayed their wedding tour to some uncertain point in the future, but also practically abandoned him in a place, which – on days like these – seemed like the end of the world.

This night in particular had exposed how much he had to learn. Severus could not boast of possessing a thorough understanding of omegas or even betas and their sensibilities or of women in general. With alpha men at least, everything was straightforward, and omegas were supposed be the same. Intercourse of any kind with an omega was supposed to be simple, natural and instinctive. Everything was supposed to just happen and fall into place, helped along by the omega's mysterious predisposition to have no need that could not automatically be met by an alpha.

But comparing the last hours to their previous encounters, Severus could not help but feel the difference most acutely. Remus always seemed amenable to his advances and content with their conclusion, but he had to admit, with a hot lick of shame stinging in his chest, that he had paid little to no attention to the way his husband experienced their congress. How selfish he must have appeared all this time. Either selfish or clueless, both of which were labels he did not care to attach to himself. He vowed to put more effort into all aspects of his marriage in the future.

The beautifully crafted clock on the bedside table chimed midnight, and Severus watched as the split hand indicating the phases of the planets moved one day closer to the silvery circle of the full moon.

* * *

The following days were spent in joyful relaxation. Although the announcement of his intention to stay put for now was met with less enthusiasm than he had hoped for, Severus was convinced there was nothing more sinister behind it than his husband's reluctance of getting in the way of his business.

The strange dreams of suffering small bites from invisible insects while being unable to move, would have disconcerted him more, if he had not woken up on the day after his arrival to the sight and sensation of Remus nuzzling the inside of his thigh. What followed after had overwhelmed Severus to the point of speechlessness, so much so that the look on his husband's face had gone from elation to concern to regret, before Severus had been able to snap out of his daze and reassure him how very, very welcome his actions had been.

There was a new openness and fervour in their interactions. Severus might almost call it hunger, and would have been more alarmed by his shrinking concern for propriety, if it had not been so exhilarating. He had not known true bliss before. He had not known how many uses his hands and mouth could have, and in how many different positions he and his limbs could be while they made love. Remus' instructions were neither confined to the night-time hours nor to their respective bedrooms.

He was reading in the library one afternoon, when he felt eyes on him, a burning gaze coming from the shadows between two shelves. Severus ignored it at first, intent to concentrate on his task, but when he looked up he could not take his eyes off the man stalking over to him with precise, feline movements. His book was soon discarded, and he was too busy with Remus in his lap to even mark his place.

Another memorable occasion found them in the greenhouse, where Severus held his half-dressed husband up against the glass wall, while he only opened his own garments enough to free his erection. The rough fabric of his outer robes made pale skin rosy, and the rare winter sunshine turned Remus' eyes gold. The panelled glass rattled with every thrust.

Severus quickly became much better acquainted with every inch of Remus' body. He had not noticed before to what degree his husband kept himself covered, even when they were alone. He knew the reason, of course. There was a big unsightly disfigurement marring his flank, and Severus was all too aware how much he suffered from the blemish. It was one of the reasons why he resented Remus' parents. A botched healing charm performed by his mother had turned what had surely been a minor wound into a gnarled mess of scar tissue that had to cause some amount of discomfort even to this day. If the original injury had been a cut or scratch, and what shape and size it had been, was impossible to tell.

After witnessing how much speaking of the scar had pained his husband, Severus had not asked again. It had infuriated him though, to see it on their wedding night, because it confirmed what he had long suspected: the recklessness of Remus' mother and the lack of sense, duty and responsibility of his father.

The Lupins had never been rich or important, but they had been respectable. At least until they had lost their small Cornwall estate and even smaller fortune to a number of creditors. They had removed themselves to a small cottage in Hogsmeade by the time Remus was twelve, and although they were known as exceedingly pleasant people, rumours of gaming debts and other debaucheries clung to them like mud. Although they might have never met under different circumstances – than Severus watching from afar as Potter, Black and Pettigrew snuck away from Hogwarts to spend time with one of the village boys – it did not change the way the Lupins' behaviour offended his sense of honour. Carelessness was something Severus found hard to forgive.

When they bathed together one evening, Severus made sure not to ignore the scar for the first time. Remus' nervousness was obvious, but he let Severus do as he pleased, and tolerated every touch, every caress and every kiss. As they were lying in his large copper bathtub later, Severus covered the detested spot with his hand until it was time to get out.

Five days after his return from London, they were taking a morning walk through one of the more densely wooded areas of the estate, however, Severus was more inclined to think of it as a march. The weather had grown colder overnight and the wet muck of earth and fallen leaves had turned into patches of ice. Half-frozen and miserable as he was, Severus could not help grumbling as he stumbled after his sure-footed, fresh-faced husband. His boots especially were giving him trouble, although it was possible that perhaps his new stockings were bothering his feet.

"When are we going to reach this mythical destination of yours? I'm beginning to suspect it doesn't exist and you're merely too stubborn to admit you're lost," Severus said, unable to keep the annoyance out of his voice.

Remus turned back to him, as he was a few paces ahead.

"We're almost there."

"You said that the last time I asked."

"Yes, because the last time you asked me was two minutes ago." He smiled, looking Severus up and down. "But you'll happy to hear that it's right over there."

He pointed to a hollow that housed nothing other than more trees, dirt and ice. Muttering to himself, he went after Remus regardless. Brushing aside branches and dried shrubbery, Remus uncovered the entrance of a cave. Before Severus could voice any objection, Remus had already crouched down and climbed inside. The interior of the cave was dark and even colder than it was outside. Severus lit his wand with a Lumos and shuddered.

"I'm sure your thirst for exploration can wait until the summer," Severus said, his voice echoing back from the walls.

"No, you'll want to see this now, I promise. It was supposed to be a surprise for your birthday, but–"

Severus sighed.

"But I wasn't here, and then I didn't want to hear anything about it, because I had more important matters on my mind."

Remus was unwinding the thick scarf from his own neck and wrapped it around Severus, before rubbing some warmth back into Severus' hands with his own that felt almost hot in their surroundings. If Severus had been able to say no, he would have tried.

"Very well. Take my wand, I'll follow you."

So he was led by the hand through the dark unknown, slipping here and there on wet stone but never allowed to fall. Then he saw it. What started as a faint glow grew stronger and stronger until he recognised the luminescent spores he had only seen in person once, long ago during his apprenticeship. They were everywhere, fully developed and ready to be harvested. He stared, his knees going weak, and he would have sunken to the ground without Remus' steadying grip on his elbow.

"I think they're – I really hope they are what I think they are," Remus whispered, pulling the travel-sized edition of Severus' Rare Magical Herbs and Fungiout from the inside of his cloak, and showing him the page with the illustration in question.

But Severus did not need to compare his book to the reality around him. He knew what he saw.

"Yes, oh yes," he said in awe, "those are vathecophorous spores. How – how did you even–"

He shook his head laughing.

"Have you any idea how long it takes for them to grow to that size? They're worth a fortune on the ingredient market alone. And to think what I could do with them. It's invaluable, simply invaluable."

"And it takes about ninety years until they reach their full size, yes. I have read the article, you know, I didn't just look at the pictures."

Severus kissed him. And then he laughed and laughed and twirled his husband as if it was spring and they were dancing around a maypole.

With the excitement of their discovery rushing through his veins, Severus was inclined to find no fault in the world, and to listen to his marvellous and clever husband. Despite being reluctant to go, he was persuaded to attend the Fawleys' annual hunt to maintain important connections and perhaps even forge a few new business contacts. He would not stay the whole week, since three days should be long enough to achieve his purpose. He certainly did not intend to participate in the hunt. As much as he despised Muggles, their practice of the sport at least involved effort, whereas wizards were content to stun or curse their prey and then have it collected by an army of dogs, house-elves or servants.

Rising before dawn the following day and leaving the warm embrace of his husband, Severus began doubting his plans. Here he was running off again, after not even a week in his own house. Only a few days ago he had lamented his own selfishness and yet he was already willing to repeat his mistakes. He had sufficient contacts for the time being and there would be other opportunities to rub shoulders with potential clients and investors in the future. He knew where his own economy came from, where his need to amass even greater wealth originated, but learning to feel secure was a long journey he had not yet completed.

However, he felt secure enough to deem his husband overly scrupulous. Though Remus' tender concern was understandable, even commendable, Severus' actions had to be his own and they had to be guided by reason. There was more than enough work to be done here. The spores, at least, needed to be safeguarded properly and catalogued as soon as possible.

After a few productive hours in his study, he was waiting for Remus in the dining room, so they could break their fast together. Rubbing his neck now and then and tapping his fingers on the pristine tablecloth, Severus only stopped when he heard steps in the hall. Then Remus came through the door and stopped in his tracks. All colour drained from his face and the ready smile slipped from his lips.

"You're – you're not going to Berkshire?" he said with a wavering voice.

Severus did not understand the sudden change. Surely, a simple alteration of his plans did not warrant such shock. He was annoyed by Remus' lack of gratitude and his stiff demeanour.

"Have you already grown so tired of my company that you cannot wait to be rid of me again?"

His tone had been closer to snapping than he intended, but he could not restrain his temper. The happiness of the last days seemed such a stark contrast to the distance spreading between them now. The glowing warmth Severus had felt until only a moment before could not persist in the cold light of morning. His husband was clearly disappointed to find him still present.

Rising from his seat at the table, he decided to give them both space for the day, before he said something he would regret. With the familiar sting of bitterness clogging his throat, he could hardly stop himself from brushing off the hand on his sleeve that was trying to stop him.

"Severus, please. I didn't mean anything by it. I was merely surprised. I'm glad you're here, truly – it is just that I'd rather not have you neglect your business affairs on my account. You have done so much for me, and I wouldn't want to be a burden."

The words must have sounded hollow even to Remus' ears. He could not meet Severus' eyes.

"I have work to do. We will speak about this later."

He left Remus standing and walked away. Despite his frustration, he idled on his way through the house. His hand seemed to have a mind of its own and he was mortified when he realised that he had been scratching his scrotum for some time. That, of course, was the moment he noticed one of the maids levitating a feather duster over the large chandelier in the entrance hall.

"Ah – Ada! I didn't see you there."

"It's Bertha, sir," she replied, looking equally annoyed and scandalised.

"Y-yes, of course. I'll let you get on."

He secluded himself in his study and went over the books his overseer at the manufactory had owled the night before – his hard-won concentration only interrupted by Mrs Fleet bringing him a lunch he had not requested. Resenting his grumbling stomach, he ate it anyway. The afternoon did not improve his mood. Unable to go back to work with his head full of everything that had happened, he went to the library in search of distraction. He could not deny feeling a pang of disappointment to find it empty.

The padded window seat Remus usually preferred was unoccupied. Armed with one of his periodicals, Severus sank into it with a sigh. The world outside looked bleak. There was no sun peeking out from the thick cloud cover and bands of fog were meandering through the garden.

Severus knew he was prone to anger and quick to feel slighted. With a little distance he found he did not approve of his own behaviour. There was something going on, he was sure of it, but his outburst that morning would certainly not induce Remus to open up to him. Mulling over ways to fix his blunder and warmed by the gently crackling fire, he drifted off.

He dreamed of the forest. He was running and calling out for Remus, but he could not reach him. The bright blue of his cloak was a constant flicker in the corner of Severus' eye, but as soon as he turned his head, it disappeared. Eventually he realised that he was not alone. Tall figures in dark hooded cloaks and frightful masks were running with him. He willed his legs to go faster, but they outpaced him easily. The next glimpse of blue proved disastrous, because the men ahead of him attacked as one, grabbing the struggling form in blue and forcing him to ground.

Grotesquely long fingers shredded the colourful fabric until they reached skin and red started seeping into the surrounding snow. Severus stood rooted to the spot, his feet slowly sinking into the ground and he could not pull them out. Losing his balance and falling to his hands and knees, his situation deteriorated as his hands were already stuck in the same kind of quicksand. As close though powerless as he was now, he saw that what he had thought to be cloaked men were not human at all. They were terrible beasts with unkempt fur, standing upright on their hind legs; and what Severus had assumed to be masks were distorted faces with vicious-looking snouts full of razor-sharp teeth; and those long, cruel fingers were actually claws slicing Remus' skin. Severus called his name over and over, but his glassy open eyes remained fixed on the starless sky.

The sound of a bird pecking against the window startled him awake. His hands were shaking hard enough to crinkle the paper in his hands. Becoming aware of his surroundings, he shook his head to clear away the remains of the dream. Daylight had faded into dusk. There was no sign of Remus.

He was about to put the barely read journal aside, when a small stain on the first page caught his eye. He tried brushing it off, but instead of disappearing, it grew beyond the extent of his thumb. Bleeding into the paper like spilled wine and smoothly covering the ordinary letters was the shape of an oleander blossom. Severus dropped the thing in shock.

He rubbed his tired eyes, then deliberately blinked a few times. When he looked down at the scattered papers, the flower was gone. Turning the title page over onto its back revealed no sign either of the stain or the fantastical print he had seen. He must have been still dreaming.

Finding his husband turned out to be equally futile. Neither Filch, nor the housekeeper and her brother, nor the maids had any knowledge of Remus' whereabouts. The maids in particular were never of any help. He thought he had been talking to Bertha, although he could not say so for sure; but how was anyone supposed to tell them apart when they all looked exactly the same.

It was probably an overreaction due to their unpleasant encounter in the morning, but a search party was assembled shortly. Despite his best efforts, Severus could not stop his mind from recalling Filch's suspicions about poachers in the area. The thought of his husband set upon by a bunch of ruffians made his blood run cold. He sent Filch with his dog, Mrs Fleet and her brother, as well as the two maids in three different directions with the strict order to report back to him in an hour. Severus himself climbed the stairs which led to the top of the tower. From there he had the best, unobstructed view in all directions. Noticing how much the fog had thickened while he slept, he cursed.

Soon he was whirling from one corner of the tower to the other, desperate for a sign. Then he saw it, a flash of blue. He Apparated.

His sudden arrival made Remus flinch. He dropped the small bundle he was carrying and looked at Severus with wild eyes.

"Are you all right?" Severus asked, anxiety colouring his voice. He touched Remus' shoulders, then patted him down quickly. "Everyone is out looking for you. Did you get lost? Coming here was thoughtless in any case. You could have wandered into the moor and not known it until it was too late."

"The moor is at least a mile west from here."

The quiet, monotonous words made Severus pause. Remus did not look well. There were dark circles under his eyes and the usual colour in his cheeks had given way to a ghostly pallor.

"What have you been doing? You must have noticed how late it is."

His gaze fell on the piece of cloth that had fallen from Remus' hands. In its contents – now spilled on the ground – Severus recognised pieces of aconite, maidenhair fern, heather, winter cherry, fennel and Iceland moss. Yes, he thought to himself, aconite or monkshood, that was the flower Remus' cloak had always reminded him of.

"Those are poisonous, you shouldn't touch them without gloves," Severus said, while turning Remus' hands over, checking the skin for signs of irritation.

Before he had a chance to finish his examination, Severus found himself in a sudden embrace. Remus held on to him tightly, pressing his face into the crook of Severus' neck.

"I'm sorry for worrying you, but you can rest assured that nothing bad will befall me out here."

A rustle coming from a nearby shrub made Severus raise his wand, before quick warm fingers stilled his hand. A moment later a mean-looking marten appeared, its beady eyes glinting in the twilight.

"I'm far from superstitious, unlike those fools who believe this region to be cursed just because it's a little harder to grow potatoes. But any land so rich in magic bears its own set of dangers. There are many things around here that will harm you, if given the chance. You shouldn't be so careless with your own safety."

"This is your home," Remus said, his voice shaky. He pressed even closer as if to emphasise his point. "Our home. You need to have faith that it will protect you and everything that is dear to you. If you treat it well, it will return the favour. It will. It has to."

Severus had no answer to words he considered a potentially hazardous fancy, but this was not the time to argue his husband's benign view of the world. Remus was trembling in his arms. Severus Apparated them back at once.

After getting some sustenance into Remus and putting him to bed, Severus paced the length of his husband's bedroom. He had come to a decision earlier and the subsequent events had only confirmed his resolution. He was weighing his words carefully. Something had to be done, if Remus' first reaction to a disagreement was to throw caution to the wind and run from him.

Although Remus had a propensity to tease him and Severus sometimes got the impression he was being laughed at, he knew it was never mean-spirited. He actually rather enjoyed the fact that Remus found him so entertaining. Intelligent, gifted, intimidating certainly – or rather brooding, spiteful and unpleasant to the less well-meaning observer – but no one had ever found him fascinating before. Aside from those remarks made in jest, Severus could not remember a single word of opposition since the day they married. That had to be unusual, albeit considering how little time they had spent together in the last months.

Being what and who he was, Severus expected a certain degree of obedience from those around him, including his spouse, and he could not deny how much Remus' easy compliance appealed to him. But everything could be taken too far. If Remus indeed felt as supported and cherished as he should, Severus would be the first and most ideal audience for any sorrow or concern. Again, Severus was unable to recall even one instance wherein Remus had involved him in a personal problem. All this time, he realised, he had taken comfort and given none.

What needed to be done was clear. He had to implement the idea that they could and should communicate openly into their relationship, that they would deliberate each side of an issue to find a compromise that was agreeable to them both. Remus was neither a servant nor a child, and Severus had no intention to treat him like one, even if he reserved the right to have the final say in any matters of importance.

How it was to be achieved was less certain. He was averse to putting undue blame on his husband's shoulders, when it was Severus' obligation to steer their life in the right direction. He had to find the correct words to put his plan into action without driving a further wedge between them.

"I know something is troubling you," Severus said at last, addressing the silent man in the bed who had been watching him patiently for the last half hour.

"And I don't blame you for failing to bring whatever it is to my attention. If it concerns what my healer discussed with you this past November, I want to assure you that – ahem – that your lack of or rather the delay of your, well, that is, of your particular time of fertility is no reason to cause you any feeling of anxiety. Mr Perry explained to me in extenso how very delicate and susceptible to external circumstance the, ah, inner workings of an omega are. You've experienced a lot of change in the last year after all, and when things are more settled, I'm sure everything will put itself back in order quite naturally."

"And frankly," he went on, "I'm not fond of children. They are loud and sticky, instinct-driven creatures that always get underfoot, and while I am determined to be more tolerant of my own descendants, I see no problem with waiting until you're ready, entirely ready – so you see, there is no rush, no rush at all."

Severus took a fortifying breath and stealthily touched his burning face. When he felt sufficiently calm once more, he went over to sit on the side of the bed.

Taking Remus' hand into his own, he continued: "I fear I've used you ill. You must get restless and lonely cooped up here on your own for so long. And not only is that my fault, no, I've also made it worse by cutting you off from your friends and family. You know how I feel about Potter, Black and Pettigrew. And one of the reasons why I asked you not to see them again was concern for your welfare. You've lived such a sheltered and innocent life before our time that you thankfully never learned just how ugly the world and how hateful the people in it can be, and I was sure they would show their true colours in time and put you in harm's way. But the much more substantial reason was that I couldn't bear the thought that you have such a warm and long-lasting regard for people I consider enemies."

He paused, clearing his throat.

"I see now that my actions have been distrustful and selfish, and not worthy of you. Whatever I may have suffered at their hands, they have been good friends to you. And if I haven't earned your trust yet, I should at least be man enough not to begrudge you the comfort of confiding in someone that has earned it."

He raised a finger to stop Remus from interrupting.

"I want you to take some time and think about what I said. I will visit the Fawleys and attend that blasted hunt and you'll have the peace to decide what to do. Don't think I'm trying to slight or punish you with my absence. I'll be back in two or three days, and then we will talk and you can tell me whatever it is you couldn't tell me before, or you can at least tell me what else I can do to help you. And if it consists of restoring contact with your old pals, well, I'm sure we can find a way to bring that about without giving them entirely free rein over your time and person. They must know you didn't break with them of your own volition."

Severus rose, then bent over the bed to brush a soft kiss on his husband's forehead.

"Now get some rest. I'll tell Mrs Fleet to bring you a breakfast tray in the morning. You could use the extra sleep."

PART 2