Fagged

Fagged

Disclaimer: Jo'd nivver thole reivin'. She'd wheech me afore th' procurator.

Translation: Scots – Ms Rowling would never tolerate theft. She would very quickly haul me up in court.

Standing atop the bluff, Remus had an unimpeded view across the rooftops of the old town and up to the castle perched on its outcrop of volcanic rock. Old tales told of a lion couchant: a mythological beast which slept in the rock, and if you approached the crag from a certain angle, it did look like a lion's head. Lupin liked this spot because, from his lofty position, he could watch all access points. He maintained his vigilance, even though Wizarding folk rarely frequented the area nowadays and sought the safety of their own community as much as possible in these uncertain times. The few hardy souls who braved the climb to the exposed cliff top in the blustery winter wind were all Muggles, wrapped up in bright cagoules, hats and scarves.

Lupin smiled as he enjoyed the fresh breeze blowing off the sea and tugging his hair and flapping his cloak around his legs. From this elevated location, he could look across Edinburgh towards the tenement flat. He had no desire to be there at this stage in the proceedings, but he felt comforted by the fact his mate, Severus Snape, and the tenacious Miss Granger were down there, within range, working together, brewing Wolfsbane, and safe.

~*~

Meanwhile, in the cramped shower of the Edinburgh flat, Hermione tried not to whimper, despite her growing concerns. She pulled her scattered wits together and set about managing the practicalities of their circumstances. Since finding a thready pulse and shallow respiration, the only signs of life from Snape had been occasional moans or a quick, indrawn hiss of breath as she sluiced caustic goo from his damaged skin.

Propping her professor up against the tiled wall, she started on his torso, and working as quickly as she could, Hermione lathered, soaped and rinsed. As she scrubbed fingers through his clotted hair, she muttered under her breath about doing him a favour by washing his greasy locks, but the attempt at humour made a sob catch in her chest when there was no response from the limp man.

Moving down his arms, her ministrations became gentler where the damage was worst over the backs of his hands. Carefully, she picked lumps of stickiness from his skin, though it burned her as she did so. She swallowed the nausea which rose in her at the sight of the blistering and peeling, concentrating on removing every last bit of the dangerous substance.

As the warmth from the shower made irritant vapour rise in steamy clouds towards the extractor fan, Hermione coughed and sniffed, her nose running and the back of her throat stinging. Wiping streaming eyes with the back of a damp hand after she washed the last of the noxious potion swirling down the drain, the witch sat back on her haunches and assessed the situation.

Snape's legs were least affected; the fronts of his thighs had a few splatter burns, but his lower legs had been protected by his ever-present dragonhide boots. His arms and hands were worst with livid burns and raw skin. Running an assessing eye over his torso, she noted his old scars, down over his belly to... Shit! His undies.

She'd left his underwear on to protect his privacy and to avoid her own embarrassment, but now she could see the top elastic had absorbed some of the potion, and it was burning a line into his pale skin. Groaning at her own stupidity, Hermione pressed her fingers hard against her eyeballs as if to banish the sight, though she knew she would have to deal with it.

"I live with boys. It's no different. I can do this." She muttered under her breath as her hands prepared themselves for the job.

"But it's Professor Snape!" Her voice whined in the confines of the shower. "Who else is going to help him?" she reasoned with herself.

Taking a deep breath, with a whispered spell, the witch banished the underwear and then tended to the injury without letting her eyes drift southwards.

At last, when his skin was clean, Hermione turned off the now cooling shower, wrapped a towel around her chilled body and, with another, patted Severus dry. Then, opening the jar of balm and starting with the worst injuries, she smoothed on the soothing cream, murmuring healing incantations as she employed her gentle touch. His skin was warm and pliant beneath her hands, and her anxious, racing pulse calmed as her fingers worked the balm in. To her surprise, Hermione noticed some of Snape's older wounds also healing and his scars diminishing.

"Has no-one taken the time to heal you before, Professor? Or do you bear your wounds without telling a soul?" As she wondered aloud, her thoughts turned to how she and Harry had tended Ron's injuries with loving care, and her heart constricted with pity for the stricken professor. "Perhaps you should ask someone at Hogwarts for help. Madam Pomfrey? Professor McGonagall?"

Hermione giggled at the thought of the stern Scottish witch rubbing healing cream over the pale-skinned wizard with efficient, bony fingers and a pinched expression, and she received a soft groan in reply.

"No? How about Remus, seeing as you two are such good pals?"

The groan became louder and slightly more coherent. Hermione thought she could discern the words fuck off, but she wasn't sure.

"I'll call him just now, shall I?"

There were definitely words mixed with the agonised moans, which brought a smile to Hermione's lips. It was good to hear the return of her professor's biting tongue.

"Right! If you're back in the land of the living, we'd better get you dressed again. You can't lie around all day in the scud."

Snape's hands moved protectively to his exposed groin.

"Um... yes... exactly."

Stepping backwards out of the shower, Hermione looked around for the man's clothes, only to be reminded of the destructive power of the potion by an offensive, smouldering heap in the corner of the room. The only items untouched were his dragonhide boots.

"Well, we'll do what we can. Here, I'll dry your feet, and you can put your boots on, and then I'll stand you up. And... Oops! Let's get that towel secured around your waist. Gods, look at you in your wicked boots, lanky legs and skimpy loincloth. Don't snarl at me. It's not my fault you tried to kill yourself with a cauldron full of toxic chemicals."

With the tall man leaning on her shoulder and her arm round his waist, both of them clutching their towels to prevent them from slipping off, they lurched in a few unsteady footsteps to the bathroom door.

"I can help you to the box room door; then you can go through to the flat and get yourself some fresh clothes. After that, I can clean up, but I'll have to go home soon. I've got to get back to Harry." Hermione sighed with relief now she had a plan to work to, even though she felt the wizard at her side tense at the mention of her friend's name. "Right, let's go!"

Swinging open the bathroom door, they were met with an impenetrable pall of noxious smoke, which stung their eyes instantly and irritated their throats. Snape reeled back, coughing and clawing at his throat. Gagging, Hermione slammed the door shut again, shoving a damp towel back against the crack.

As she wiped tears from her eyes with the corner of her towel toga, she gave Severus a watery smile. "So, what's plan B?"

"Send for help." His normally velvety voice was rasping and raw, and Hermione winced when he swallowed painfully.

"I tried, but I wasn't any good. Why don't you?"

"Give me my wand, girl, and I will."

Hermione lifted his reeking clothes, some damp towels and a bathmat as she searched, gritting her teeth at his imperious manner.

"Where's my wand?" Severus growled. When Hermione shrugged in ignorance, he swore and made to open the door. "I must have left it in the box room. Stay here while I get it."

Knocking his hand away from the doorknob, Hermione shoved Snape aside. "Don't be so stupid!" she shouted. "You'll die if you go back in there, and I'm not coming in to rescue you from your own idiocy a second time. You... you incompetent... wanker!"

His glare in response would have made the bravest witch quail as he drew himself up to his full height and poured his malevolence down on her, but Hermione saw the boots, the bare legs, the towel and the splotchy patchwork of cream, and she started to snigger. Severus tried to maintain his baleful air, but the pink burn of embarrassment blushed across his exposed skin, and his legs were becoming weak from standing. Sagging down to sit on the floor with his back against the cool tiling, he rested his swimming head in his hands.

"Plan C, Miss Granger?"

"I'm sorry, sir. I just got the giggles; I couldn't help it. And, you're not an incompetent wanker... Honest... I mean you're quite competent... and I wouldn't know about you...ˮ

He turned his dark eyes on her again.

Clearing her throat, she continued. "Yes, well... Plan C? Um... a Bubble-Head Charm, maybe? No, it won't fit over both of us, and I can't get through the other door without you if I cast it just on myself. I could cast it on you, but then I'd be gassed to death while I tried to maintain it for you as you crossed the box room. What about..."

"When you have finished your incessant prattling, perhaps you could try sending your Patronus for aid."

"I did, but it was no good."

"Try again, Miss Granger."

Hermione looked at the man in front of her, bringing to mind his recent kindness to her before he had started brewing and the way he hadn't hexed her when she had laughed. Drawing in a breath and closing her eyes in concentration, she focused on the positives. "Expecto Patronum."

A small silver otter trickled forth from her wand-tip and skittered away.

~*~

The only other person who knew the Secret-Kept location of the flat was most disconcerted when Hermione Granger's insubstantial otter arrived and whispered in his ear. "Help, Professor Snape and I are in the bathroom with no clothes."

Here he was thinking they were working safely together, and all the time they'd been in the bathroom getting their kit off whilst he'd been standing out here in the cold like a lemon.

Bloody hell! He was going to give them a piece of his mind.

As he landed in the flat, Remus flung open the door to the box room in his irritation, to be confronted by the same noisome vapours which had halted Severus and Hermione. Covering his mouth and nose for protection, he closed the door and retreated into the sitting room, trying to figure out what had happened. If that tosser, Snape, had cocked up and injured Hermione, he would kill him with his bare hands.

The only thing to do was to Apparate straight into the bathroom, though the thought of encountering them both possibly injured and without clothes did little to help his concentration. Turning on the spot, Lupin made his first attempt but, after a moment of whirling nausea, was thrown back into the sitting room. He tried again another couple of times before remembering the anti-Apparition charms on the box room and bathroom, which activated close to the time of the full moon. The charms were specific to him, having been set years prior when they first moved in and he had used the box room during his werewolf transitions, before they had built the luxury cage in the sitting room where Severus had spent many nights keeping watch over him.

Stopping to think, Remus realised he recognised the hideous odour of the Peripatus, but he had never seen such a dense cloud. Normally, if you worked in a ventilated potions lab, all the fumes were magically vented and neutralised.

Remus paused in his pacing, slapping his head for being so stupidly remiss. He had nearly killed his mate by forgetting to set up the ventilation system which he had promised.

Running back to the box room and opening the door, he cast a series of spells which started drawing the noxious gases out of the room. As soon as the haze cleared and the smell dissipated, Remus picked his way, with caution, around the murky puddles on the floor. On reaching the bathroom door, he knocked.

"Are you two respectable in there?"

Initially, there was no reply; then the door flung open wide, and Lupin's arms were suddenly filled with an almost naked sobbing witch.

"Remus! You're here! I was so scared. We were stuck in here, and I thought he'd die. And you came. I needed you. He was better, but now he's worse. I didn't know what to do next...ˮ

"Hush, love." Lupin soothed, hugging her shaking body tight and stroking her wild hair before easing her away from him. "Here, wipe away those tears, and let's see what needs to be done."

Stepping into the small bathroom, Remus nearly tripped over Snape's booted feet and was disturbed by what he found. The dark wizard lay sprawled on the damp floor, his chest rising and falling erratically. Where the man's skin was not livid with burns and plastered with salve, it was pale and clammy. His eyelids flickered over glazed eyes. Remus was on his knees at Snape's side in an instant.

"Severus, you look like shit. I always said potions would be the death of you."

Hermione watched as the werewolf's hands, gentle in their touch, travelled over her professor's skin, his voice low and calm as he whispered incantations. She could not hear the words, but sensed the healing and care being lavished upon the prostrated man. Leaning forward, Hermione peered over Lupin's shoulder as his hands worked and thought she heard him whisper, "We're both here, mate. You can't die yet. She said you wouldn't."

Hermione frowned with confusion. She had said she thought Snape might die, not that he wouldn't. Shrugging, she turned her attention back to Lupin's ministrations and was surprised to see him grasp Snape's left wrist and hold it steady.

"This might help," Remus muttered, running his free hand up Snape's forearm and over the Dark Mark, which rose stark from the man's pale skin.

Severus shuddered and tried to withdraw from the physical contact, but the other man held firm.

Tears dropped onto the evil blemish as Remus pressed a thumb to its edge. Hermione watched with fascination as a pale glow spread from Lupin's thumb until the dark tattoo was limned by a silvery haze. Severus groaned, drawing in a deep breath, which sighed out again slowly. The sound was almost erotic. Hermione blinked and turned away as she heard Remus whisper loving words, which could only be meant for one person to hear.

"That's better, isn't it? It's a long time since I've had to do that. Now, let's get you to bed."

Hermione turned back to see Lupin lifting the limp form of the dark-haired man and cradling him in his arms. As he angled sideways through the door with his burden, Remus gave her a lopsided, almost embarrassed smile. "You won't repeat what I said to him when he was unconscious, will you?" he asked quietly.

Hermione's gaze fell on the dark wizard as she shook her head in reply. Automatically, she caught the towel which was slipping again and repositioned it across Snape's groin.

"Nothing I haven't seen before," Remus said, grinning, "but show some decorum in the presence of a lady, mate."

Arms and dragonhide-booted feet dangled, and his head rested on Lupin's shoulder, but Snape's eyes were now open, and Hermione was glad she was not on the receiving end of the man's glare.

"Can you open the door through to the flat for me, lass? I don't think I can manage with this ugly lump in my arms." His lips grazed Snape's temple as he spoke as if they longed to place a kiss there, and Hermione heard the lack of malice in his tone.

"Sure," she replied, giving herself a shake as she crossed the box room to the concealed door. "Damn! It still won't open for me."

"If I set Severus on his feet, can you hold him while I get the door?"

The sick man wrapped clammy arms round Hermione's neck, his height allowing him to rest his cheek on her hair as she held him up.

"You smell better now. When shall we do this again, Miss Granger?" The words, spoken in Snape's drawl against her skull, drew a small squeak from the girl.

Remus rolled his eyes at her as he lifted Severus back into his arms with ease. "Come on, Sev. I'm taking you away before you embarrass yourself. Hermione, love, I'll only be a minute; then I'll be back."

As soon as she was alone in the debris-cluttered box room, Hermione became acutely aware of her semi-nudity. Picking her way carefully back across the room, she was soon dragging her grimy clothes back on. She needed to get back to Harry, but could not pull her mind away from the two men who had just left. There was something about them which disturbed her equilibrium. Her burned fingers hurt as she fastened buttons and pulled up zips, and tears stung her eyes as her emotions swirled.

Anger rose within her. What the hell was going on? How dare Lupin embroil her in their obviously complicated relationship? At least with Harry and Ron, she knew exactly where she stood and what her role was in the threesome. With Lupin and Snape, boundaries shifted, and it made Hermione feel uncomfortable.

Hermione scraped her hair back into a hasty ponytail, stuffed the rest of her belongs into the beaded bag then Disapparated.

Hearing the tell-tale crack as he entered the room, Lupin swore. "Bugger! What did I do wrong this time? I told her I was coming back, and didn't I ask her to wait? Bloody woman! I never get it right, do I?"

He heaved an enormous sigh, muttering to himself as he made his way back through to the flat. "I suppose I'll have to go and sort out Snape now. Make him a cup of tea, heal his wounds and send him back to his cushy home at Hogwarts."

Remus continued to grumble under his breath as he waited for the kettle to boil. "No doubt he'll be his usual grateful self, the wassock," he said, pouring the boiling water into a couple of mugs.

"Aw, pish! I forgot to put in the tea bags." He slammed a hand down on the counter and took a calming breath. "Snape, this is your fault. You can't stay out of trouble, can you? And the two of you together, you and that Hermione Granger... chit, you mess with my head."

"What?" Severus blinked blearily as a cup of hot liquid was shoved into his hand.

"Drink it. It's good for you."

"Hot water? Isn't there supposed to be something else in here?" The dark wizard eyed the contents of his mug with suspicion. "Can't you at least add some honey and lemon?"

"Fuck off! Go and do it yourself, if you can walk as far as the kitchen."

"What's twisting your tail, Lupin?"

"You."

"Me?"

"Yes. You. Here's me, trying to ease the pressure on you by getting someone to help make Wolfsbane. Someone I know will be adequate in your estimation. No, in fact she'll be bloody amazing, given time and the right guidance. And there's you, trying to kill yourself by throwing toxic chemicals all over the place, inhaling the fumes...ˮ

"The ventilation...ˮ

"... then you took off all your clothes...ˮ

"I didn't...ˮ

"... and then you sniffed her!"

"Ah! Indeed."

"Is that it? Is that your comeback? Indeed?"

"So, this is really about Miss Granger."

Lupin flopped down onto the couch next to Snape. "You don't understand, Sev. It's been you and me against the world for so long now, but things are changing. We need Hermione, and you've got to keep her safe. Do you realise how important she is for us?"

"Us? You mean the Order?"

"No. Us," said Remus, indicating the two of them with a back and forth motion of his finger. "You and me."

"How?"

"Well... It's a bit complicated, and I can't tell you exactly. Just trust me on this one."

"Trust a werewolf?"

"Stop being such a dickhead, Snape. I haven't got the energy for your snide comments. Time's running short. I'm worn ragged, running to and fro as negotiator for different factions. I had hoped I'd have some spare Wolfsbane to take to the allied werewolves tonight." His head drooped back on the cushions, and his eyes closed as Remus took a long, slow breath. "I'm just knackered. Completely fagged out. And, then this... and you... and it scared me."

Remus felt the other man's heavy gaze upon him and opened his eyes, meeting the look with his softer, tawny gaze. "Don't give me that look, Severus. You know I'd miss you. I'm probably the only one who would." Poking Snape's thigh, he added, "Apart from Hermione, who'd be devastated to lose such a devilishly handsome, crispy-skinned, ointment-slathered, hair-sniffing soul mate."

The glare he received in response made Remus snigger. "Aw, c'mon, Sev. You know I love you, mate. And one of these days, you'll admit you love me too."

"Over my dead body, Lupin."

"Aye, well. With things as they are, that may be sooner than you think."

"It could have been even sooner, thanks to your ineptitude with ventilation charms, dog brains."

"Yeah, sorry ʼbout that."

Severus remained silent, his lips pressed into a thin line.

"No, I am. I'm really sorry. I forgot completely, and it could have been..." Lupin's voice tailed off as he wiped a tear from his cheek. A wobbly smile curved his lips when he continued. "Gods, I'm glad you're both safe. Anyway, I'd better give you a hand to get back to Hogwarts, and then...ˮ

"What about the Wolfsbane?"

"There's enough for this full moon, but we'll need some more for next month."

Severus sighed, dragging a hand over his face. "I'm not sure how much spare time I'll have in the next few weeks. I'll have to...ˮ

"Yeah, you'll have to teach Hermione how to make it."

"I know where she is...ˮ

"Don't be a pillock, Severus. She'll have packed up and moved on already if she thinks you know where she's camping."

"So, how do you find her when you need her?"

"Animal instinct," Remus replied, tapping the side of his nose. "Tell me when you're free, and I can pass the message on to her."

"No, it's all right. I have my own means of contacting Miss Granger, should I wish to."

"How?"

"Headmaster's privileges," replied Snape, smirking as he mimicked Lupin's nose tapping gesture. "After all, she is still officially a Hogwarts student."

"You might want to remember that the next time you go sniffing her hair and asking her for a date."

"Stop sniggering, wolf boy. I did not."

"You...ˮ

"I happen to like the scent of the soap she used. It reminded me of... of someone...ˮ

"That's because you made it."

"Did I?"

"Don't you remember?"

"No. Who did I make it for?"

"Um... someone you had a bit of a thing for." Remus looked away, avoiding Snape's inquiring eyes.

"When was that?"

"At about the time we left school."

"Lily?"

"Um..."

"I'm not sure. Lily was more a strawberry girl. This has subtle, warm scents and is quite pleasant."

"Well, there you go then. Perhaps you could make some shampoo with the same scent for Hermione. She broke the last bottle."

"What a clumsy witch!"

"Look who's talking, Mr Cauldron Tipper."

"That was not entirely my fault, as you well know, Lupin."

"It'd be a great thank you present."

"Hmm. I'll see what I can do."

"Good. Hey, look at the time! I know you won't call on any of the staff, but why don't you contact young Malfoy and ask him to pick you up from the school gates. I'll get some clean clothes for you to put on before you leave. We can't have you frightening the little cherubs on your return, can we, Headmaster?"

"This towel was enough to cover my modesty in the presence of you and Miss Granger."

"But we've both seen you with far less on."

"You mean, she...ˮ

"How d'you think you ended up in your birthday suit?"

Cursing, Severus hid his blushing face in his hands as Lupin left the room laughing.

~*~

As Hermione lay in her bed later that night, she tried to be logical in her thoughts but could not escape the image of Professor Snape in nothing but his boots and towel, slumped against the bathroom wall, or leaning loose-limbed against her, even cradled lovingly in the other man's arms. The dour wizard clearly needed more care and support than he was getting at Hogwarts, judging by the number of poorly healed wounds on his pale skin. Remus was obviously busy and couldn't be there for him all the time.

Turning over, she tried to banish the thoughts, but somehow the man's vulnerability stirred an unusual sensation in her gut.

Suddenly, Hermione realised why she felt ill at ease.

"Damn it! I couldn't even take care of my best friend, Ron, and now I've just taken on another lost cause at a time when I really can't afford to."

~*~

"The way I read this, sir, it suggests there was not only a spy at Hogwarts, but some kind of three-way alliance between Hermione Granger, Remus Lupin and...ˮ

The dark-haired professor was becoming uncomfortable with the increasingly personal questions from his students. History wasn't really his forte, and he had assumed these classes would not open old sores. The longer he stood in for Professor Binns, the more he looked forward to leaving teaching altogether.

A/N:

Arthur's Seat is the main peak in a group of hills in the centre of Edinburgh. It overlooks the Palace of Holyrood and up to Edinburgh Castle. History says King David the First had an encounter with a stag below Arthur's seat, and mythology in the poem Y Gododdin implies King Arthur was associated with the hill fort on Edinburgh's Castle Crag.

Translation:

Fagged - tired, bothered

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