Epilogue

"That's not my job offer, you nitwit!" huffed Snape haughtily. "You know I was sent by Dumbledore. He would have come in person if he had not been held back by the board of Governors."

"A part of me will always believe that the offer is partially yours," replied Remus with a smirk. "We both know how much you want that position, and we also know that I would not have the competence to teach Potions, which renders a trade impossible to make."

"Some say the job is cursed... Maybe Dumbledore sees your sacrifice as more benign than mine would be."

"No matter what Dumbledore's personal views are, I doubt his idea of a job interview included tying me to a chair for hours and force-feeding me Veritaserum!"

"You drank the potion on your own accord, Lupin, as for..."

"I should have known better than to accept any drink from you, Snape!" exclaimed Remus, sounding half-amused, half-outraged by the other wizard's hypocritical ways.

"As for the tying part," continued Snape in the same cold tone, "I didn't hear you complain about it."

"I guess I was busy talking about other matters," retorted Remus, looking Snape right in the eye.

"I rather guess," said Snape very slowly, breaking eye contact and positioning himself behind Remus so his lips were right against his left ear, "that you like being roughed around and tied up, you little whore..."

"I might, Severus, I might," he articulated, the erected hairs on his nape betraying that their proximity made him shiver. "Speaking of which, you seemed eager to hear what that little whore had to say..."

"I was doing a thorough interview; there's nothing wrong with checking your background. Hogwarts has very high standards when it comes to choosing the persons who will take the children's education into their hands. Would you have volunteered the information if I had not tricked you?"

"Not at the beginning, that's for sure."

"What do you mean by that?" asked Snape with a frown, now standing in front of the lycanthrope with his arms crossed tight.

"Poor Severus, it looks like you've lost track of time," murmured Remus, his eyes bright with a victorious glitter. "Veritaserum wears off after a while... So does every spell."

What followed happened so fast that Snape barely had time to react. Remus broke free from his binds in a heartbeat and stood up. His wand leapt from the inner pocket of Snape's frock coat a moment later and landed in his outstretched hand. Snape regained his composure quickly enough to cast a Shield Charm in front of him, but it was unnecessary: no hex or jinx exploded from Remus' wand. Both men stood there, holding their breaths, their glances fiercely trapped in each other.

"I do not wish to hex you, Severus," said Remus calmly after long minutes of heavy silence.

"Prove it," murmured Snape, his jaws locked together so tightly that his words were almost inaudible.

"Fine, here... let me put it back in my pocket. I won't seek revenge for what you did tonight, Severus. In fact, I'm rather grateful."

"Grateful? Why?" asked Snape, lowering his wand with bewilderment.

"You have not been very understanding, to say the least, but it was great to get all this off my chest, to share the secret with someone. That's why I kept telling you the truth even after the potion loosened its grip on my mind. Yet... there is one more reason for my gratitude."

"Tell me." Snape's voice had lost a bit of its commanding inflection all of a sudden.

"Had we not discussed all this tonight," said Remus slowly, taking a step forward that raised Snape's wand at once, "who knows if I would ever have figured out the truth?"

"The... what are you talking about, werewolf?" spat Snape.

"It was you, wasn't it?" whispered Remus, his eyes glued to the darkness in Snape's. "All these times a client stopped me unexpectedly on the sidewalk for a quick shag in a back street on weeknights or for more elaborate nights during weekends... it was you. You were Thomas and many others, too."

"You're delusional, Lupin!" he huffed, rising his arms in disbelief and turning his back to him. "Did they look like me, even remotely? Did they even share a resemblance with each other?"

"Brewing Polyjuice was well within your reach, Severus... A few charms for your voice, a few well-calculated trips to the loo every hour or so, and the disguise was nearly perfect."

"Nearly?" asked Snape, straightening tensely and addressing the wall in front of him.

"Nearly... I felt something familiar when I was with these clients," explained Remus softly. "At first, I thought I was going mad, thinking that they might be one man... or woman, for that matter. But... there was something so strong coming from them.... The way they all kissed me, grabbed me... caressed me... It just pulled so much need from deep within me.... Sometimes, I could have begged for some of them to stay longer..."

Silence. Snape kept looking ahead, his shoulders squared and his head high.

"I think I did beg a couple of times, now that I think of it. Either way, from the way you touched me tonight, from your smell... the way you look at me... I know that I was not mad. I just would have never expected all these clients to be, of all people... you."

Remus risked a hand on Snape's shoulder. He startled violently and disengaged his shoulder gruffly as if Remus' touch was made of red-hot iron. He reached the hallstand in three long and rapid steps and snatched his cloak from its top hook, nearly knocking the whole thing down. Putting it on, he turned and faced Remus again. His eyes were as cold and hard as steel when he spoke.

"You know Dumbledore; this interview was merely a formality. I'll inform him that you accepted the post, and he will expect you to show up in the Great Hall at six o'clock the evening of September first. I can already tell you that half the staff, me included, is fiercely against the idea of having a werewolf teaching at Hogwarts, but D..."

"I'm sure he has managed to convince them; otherwise, he would not have sent me an offer. As for you... There is still something I can't quite figure out, Severus," said Remus, sliding his hands into his pockets.

"And what might that be?" he asked, his tone very cautious.

"Dumbledore didn't send you just because he was too busy to come; he sent you because you asked to be his messenger. Minerva was probably the first person he thought of; she is Deputy Headmistress after all. Why do you keep denying that what we shared for years was something unique and satisfying, something that you shouldn't be ashamed of?"

Snape's glance hardened even more, but he remained silent and seemed to hesitate for a minute or two. Then, his lips rendered almost invisible by the tense sneer that pressed them together, he put his wand in his pocket and retrieved his wallet. Sliding his long fingers into its opening, he took a few Galleons and threw them in front of him with an air of disgusted arrogance. The pieces of metal jingled and rolled on the floorboards between the two wizards, but Remus did not even look down.

"This should cover the expenses for your train ticket, werewolf," he said in a voice that matched his features. "Take it as my welcoming gift. Good night."

"We could still make it happen, you know," resounded Remus' hoarse voice, stilling Snape on the doorstep. "Just for tonight. Just one last time."

"Why, Remus, can't accept my money without doing your usual performance?"

"You could make me beg again, Severus... Think about it..." he said slowly, moving toward the door. "That is... if you're man enough to fuck another bloke without a disguise."

"How much do you cost these days, Lupin?" sneered Snape, leaning against the doorframe and crossing his arms defiantly.

"I don't want your money, Severus..." Remus was standing in front of him now, and Snape did not move away.

"Really? What do you want, then?" he murmured, his large nose a whisper away from Remus'.

"I want you... you, with your face, voice and smell unaltered.... Just the thought of it makes me hard... Don't you want to feel how hard I am for you right now? Don't you want me to start asking, for a change? I could ask some pretty naughty things; I'm sure we could find a way to enjoy ourselves, don't you think?"

Snape's face was impenetrable, as usual, but this time it hid a turmoil of considerable amplitude. It was all in the shaky glimmer in his dark eyes. But Remus did not even waste time trying to decrypt the gloomily still features; he knew better. His nose was far more reliable, and it gave him loads of information. So much indeed that he wanted to wrap himself in the combined heat of their bodies and revel in their merged scents. Thomas was somewhere in there; he could feel it. So were other men, even some women, within his reach. He craved to make their acquaintance again, let them drive him crazy with lust again, figure out their complexity at last and see them as they had always been: united, amalgamated, fused into a unique force inside the wizard in front of him. They were now standing so close to each other that he could barely contain himself. To feel those hands on his skin again... to explore Snape's body for the first time while enjoying the peculiar feeling of years of complicity, built furtively, despite them, over so many years...

"Come on," cajoled Remus, a flirtatious smile floating on his lips. "I bet you're still as tight-arsed as you were two years ago.... I remember its feel... Do you remember mine? There's a hundred things we still haven't tried. I sure played with a few ideas after you had me think about our last night together. But you know that, don't you... You couldn't resist the urge to sneak in and take a peek! Did you like what you saw, Severus? How about making it happen right now?"

"No wonder why you made a living at this, werewolf," whispered Snape huskily before Remus' hands grabbed his clothes and pulled him inside.

Snape's back landed heavily against the door and slammed it shut, and his head made a dull sound when it hit the wood, Remus' lips crushing against his in a merciless kiss.

That night, Remus begged indeed. First, he begged Fate to keep him from waking up and realizing this was all just a dream. He begged for the pace to go faster, for more, then for things to never stop. Before he fell asleep, content, sated and peaceful to an extent he had rarely felt in his life, he begged for that feeling to linger forever. As incredible as it may seem, the voice begged too, though it begged in silence. It begged for the strength to wait, quiet and imperturbable, until September 1st would finally come and allow it to be heard again... countless times.

Finite Incantatum

Author's notes

As always, special thanks to the irreplaceable Vaughn, who is the beta for all my fanfics. Thanks for reading; comments are always appreciated, for they make me progress as a writer!