Redemption - Part 20 - Recognition
Jun. 10th, 2006 12:50 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
innerslytherinRecognition
Prompt: 71 – Vows
Pairing: Remus/Severus
Slash
WC: 1,483
Redemption - PG to R (WIP) - After Voldemort's defeat, Remus--crippled in his last battle--and Severus--pardoned but a pariah--manage to forge a connection, despite the expectations of the world around them.
Series so far:
1. Reconciliation 2. Rehabilitation 3. Recovery 4. Reply 5. Rediscovery 6. Receiving
7. Repartee 8. Relapse 9. Requisite 10. Retreat 11. Refining 12. Repose 13. Reconsidering
14. Renaissance 15. Retribution 16. Return 17.Rematch 18. Redefining 19. Relishing
20. Recognition 21. Remembering 22. Refrain 23. Reformation 24. Recrimination 25. Reliance
26. Reverting 27. Repercussion 28. Reminder
Thanks, as always, to![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
astraea36 and thesnapelyone for beta, and to busaikko for demanding fluff and for picking my prompt. This installment is dedicated to sevedra, who was most anxious to see these events come to pass. ^_~
The first time Severus has to leave Remus alone for a lengthy period, he frets the whole time. It’s ridiculous; he knows this. It’s been over a fortnight since Remus left St Mungo’s and he’s obviously gaining mobility every day--climbing the stairs with more ease; levitating his writing desk steadily; even, on one notable morning, hexing the alarm clock to spurt little globes of light rather than making any noise. (That last one, Remus had admitted sheepishly, was a mistake; he’d meant to destroy it, but something in him had been reluctant to destroy something which belonged to Severus. Severus called it “cute” in a tone of voice that made it clear in no uncertain terms that “cute” was not a compliment. Nevertheless, Severus hasn’t changed it back.)
Potter hasn’t been to visit for over a week, for which fact Severus is extremely grateful. Remus has seemed happier, more open, in the last few days. Severus has finished Crime and Punishment and has gone on to Persuasion, which makes Remus laugh and demand that the entire book be read aloud. This reaction makes Severus wonder if he ought to be ashamed of reading Jane Austen, but Remus is adamant, and Severus finds it difficult to refuse. He settles for threatening to hex Remus if he tells Minerva what they are reading—and is rewarded by finding the book lying open on his chair just after Minerva has Disapparated following Tuesday afternoon tea.
But today is Thursday, and the full moon is less than two weeks away. An unfortunate loss of control in the pantry, which Remus stubbornly attributes to his frustration at the lack of ginger biscuits (Severus suspects otherwise), has resulted in several broken flasks of Wolfsbane potion, and Severus is out of several essential ingredients. With a sigh and an admonishment to stay out of his cellar lab, Severus has been forced to abandon Remus in order to make a trip to Knockturn Alley.
When he Apparates home, he carries his supplies directly to the laboratory. Pinned to the door is a note:
My idea of good company is the company of clever, well-informed people, who have a great deal of conversation; that is what I call good company.
Severus blinks at it for a moment, trying to place the quotation, but it is Austen, of course. He spends a few minutes putting the potion ingredients away, then realizes the house seems unnaturally quiet. He frowns. It’s only half-seven; surely Remus can’t have gone to bed yet. He goes up the stairs, paying more attention to his surroundings this time.
There is a note on the kitchen table:
Anne hoped she had outlived the age of blushing: but the age of emotion she certainly had not.
Why is the kitchen empty? Did Remus not bother with tea? Severus inspects the cooktop and decides that Remus has at least brewed tea and cooked something for dinner. He isn’t entirely certain whether he should be alarmed or relieved. It is early days yet for Remus to be cooking while alone in the house; his hands are still shaky, as the incident with the Wolfsbane has proved, and though his magic is increasingly steady, his reaction time is still rather slower than it used to be.
“Remus?” Severus calls, striding into the sitting room.
The books line the walls serenely. The front door is latched and bolted, the wards intact. The door to the stairway is closed. The fire is banked; a few candles, held under stasis spells, provide the only light. His alarm growing, Severus goes up the stairs and turns to peer into Remus’ bedroom. The only use this room ever sees is at the writing desk. Severus crosses the room, withdrawing from his pocket the bottle of ink he has purchased as a small gift. It is green ink, and not spelled to be spill-proof, which Severus thinks, obscurely, will please Remus.
There is another note on the desk.
[He] had been forced into prudence in [his] youth, [he] learned romance as [he] grew older – the natural sequel of an unnatural beginning.
Severus smiles at the brackets—Remus will always be precise, correct. But Severus’ heart is beating faster.
Romance, Remus has written. Romance. There has been precious little time for romance since Remus came home. Comfort, stability, emotional intimacy, even. But romance? Severus’ mouth has gone dry. He wants romance. He wants to feel desired. He wants to make Remus feel desired—feel special. He thinks for a moment. Treasured.
“Remus?” he says softly. He is almost afraid to let Remus hear him, lest the strange mood, created so simply by a few words penned on scraps of parchment, be destroyed.
The door to their bedroom is closed. Severus snatches the last parchment from where it is pinned, eager to read this final quotation.
…all, all declared that he had a heart returning to [him] at least; that anger, resentment, avoidance, were no more; and that they were succeeded, not merely by friendship and regard, but by the tenderness of the past; yes, some share of the tenderness of the past. [He] could not contemplate the change as implying less—he must love [him].
Severus stares at this note for a long time. Tenderness of the past. It is true that they were nearly friends, before Black attempted to feed Severus to his pet werewolf and Potter saved his life. But there are so many years between that and this, so many bitter things—his forcing Remus to resign, his murder of Dumbledore, Remus’ injury and Severus’ trial—but perhaps it is this past that has brought them back together. Perhaps it is because of the past, because of the old hurts as well as the old attraction, that they are here today.
He knocks softly on the door.
Remus’ voice is hoarse and low. “Come in.”
Severus pushes the door open, his movements slow and almost nervous. “I was worried,” he begins, and then realizes there is no need to worry. There is no need to think much at all.
The room is lit with the glow of candlelight. Dozens of candles float around them, flickering off the reflective surfaces in the room, glinting in Remus’ eyes. Severus catches his breath.
“I missed you,” Remus says, a quirk of mischief to the corners of his mouth. But the heat in his eyes sends warmth flooding through Severus and pooling low in his belly.
“You’re beautiful,” Severus blurts, and then feels stupid. But from the way Remus’ face lights up, this must have been the right thing to say.
“Come over here,” Remus orders, and Severus can do nothing but obey.
Remus is lying on the bed, wearing a pair of jeans, his shirt open in front. Severus slithers onto the bed and leans over him, resting his weight on his elbows. Remus smiles up at him and then leans up and their mouths meet, kissing and licking and even biting gently, teeth clicking quietly against each other in their desperation. Severus groans against Remus’ mouth and hopes Remus is feeling strong today, because there have already been two occasions when Severus thought this was going to happen--thought, and then had to desist because of Remus’ low energy levels. But now—
“Merlin, Severus, I want you!” Remus gasps, and Severus can only nod and groan in agreement.
Remus’ hands are working at Severus’ clothes, twisting buttons, tugging at hems, and soon Severus is wearing less than Remus, pressing kisses to Remus’ throat and chest, running his hands up and down Remus’ sides. “Remus,” he murmurs, “so perfect, so wonderful.” He wonders if he will have the courage to say what must be said.
Remus lifts a hand to cup Severus’ cheek; Severus’ notices the second finger is stained with deep red ink. He kisses the palm. “Let me,” Severus whispers, stroking his fingertips at Remus’ hips, and Remus nods.
Afterwards, lying together in sated splendour, Severus wonders if things will really change now. Somehow he doubts that they will.
Remus dozes for some time, but wakes up when the waxing gibbous moon rises. He shifts in Severus’ arms, then stretches. “I have some things I need to say,” he whispers.
Severus shakes his head. “You don’t, if you don’t want.”
“I do want. I want to be with you always. I want to know what makes you laugh and what makes you scowl. I want to know when you get sad and learn how to cheer you up. I want to be here for your every moment.”
Severus waits for a moment, thinking about the choices that have led him here. “I want the same,” he says softly. “I will love you all of my days. I will honour you all of my life.”
“I swear that I am yours,” Remus replies.
Severus smiles and kisses him again.
Prompt: 71 – Vows
Pairing: Remus/Severus
Slash
WC: 1,483
Redemption - PG to R (WIP) - After Voldemort's defeat, Remus--crippled in his last battle--and Severus--pardoned but a pariah--manage to forge a connection, despite the expectations of the world around them.
Series so far:
1. Reconciliation 2. Rehabilitation 3. Recovery 4. Reply 5. Rediscovery 6. Receiving
7. Repartee 8. Relapse 9. Requisite 10. Retreat 11. Refining 12. Repose 13. Reconsidering
14. Renaissance 15. Retribution 16. Return 17.Rematch 18. Redefining 19. Relishing
20. Recognition 21. Remembering 22. Refrain 23. Reformation 24. Recrimination 25. Reliance
26. Reverting 27. Repercussion 28. Reminder
Thanks, as always, to
astraea36 and thesnapelyone for beta, and to busaikko for demanding fluff and for picking my prompt. This installment is dedicated to sevedra, who was most anxious to see these events come to pass. ^_~The first time Severus has to leave Remus alone for a lengthy period, he frets the whole time. It’s ridiculous; he knows this. It’s been over a fortnight since Remus left St Mungo’s and he’s obviously gaining mobility every day--climbing the stairs with more ease; levitating his writing desk steadily; even, on one notable morning, hexing the alarm clock to spurt little globes of light rather than making any noise. (That last one, Remus had admitted sheepishly, was a mistake; he’d meant to destroy it, but something in him had been reluctant to destroy something which belonged to Severus. Severus called it “cute” in a tone of voice that made it clear in no uncertain terms that “cute” was not a compliment. Nevertheless, Severus hasn’t changed it back.)
Potter hasn’t been to visit for over a week, for which fact Severus is extremely grateful. Remus has seemed happier, more open, in the last few days. Severus has finished Crime and Punishment and has gone on to Persuasion, which makes Remus laugh and demand that the entire book be read aloud. This reaction makes Severus wonder if he ought to be ashamed of reading Jane Austen, but Remus is adamant, and Severus finds it difficult to refuse. He settles for threatening to hex Remus if he tells Minerva what they are reading—and is rewarded by finding the book lying open on his chair just after Minerva has Disapparated following Tuesday afternoon tea.
But today is Thursday, and the full moon is less than two weeks away. An unfortunate loss of control in the pantry, which Remus stubbornly attributes to his frustration at the lack of ginger biscuits (Severus suspects otherwise), has resulted in several broken flasks of Wolfsbane potion, and Severus is out of several essential ingredients. With a sigh and an admonishment to stay out of his cellar lab, Severus has been forced to abandon Remus in order to make a trip to Knockturn Alley.
When he Apparates home, he carries his supplies directly to the laboratory. Pinned to the door is a note:
My idea of good company is the company of clever, well-informed people, who have a great deal of conversation; that is what I call good company.
Severus blinks at it for a moment, trying to place the quotation, but it is Austen, of course. He spends a few minutes putting the potion ingredients away, then realizes the house seems unnaturally quiet. He frowns. It’s only half-seven; surely Remus can’t have gone to bed yet. He goes up the stairs, paying more attention to his surroundings this time.
There is a note on the kitchen table:
Anne hoped she had outlived the age of blushing: but the age of emotion she certainly had not.
Why is the kitchen empty? Did Remus not bother with tea? Severus inspects the cooktop and decides that Remus has at least brewed tea and cooked something for dinner. He isn’t entirely certain whether he should be alarmed or relieved. It is early days yet for Remus to be cooking while alone in the house; his hands are still shaky, as the incident with the Wolfsbane has proved, and though his magic is increasingly steady, his reaction time is still rather slower than it used to be.
“Remus?” Severus calls, striding into the sitting room.
The books line the walls serenely. The front door is latched and bolted, the wards intact. The door to the stairway is closed. The fire is banked; a few candles, held under stasis spells, provide the only light. His alarm growing, Severus goes up the stairs and turns to peer into Remus’ bedroom. The only use this room ever sees is at the writing desk. Severus crosses the room, withdrawing from his pocket the bottle of ink he has purchased as a small gift. It is green ink, and not spelled to be spill-proof, which Severus thinks, obscurely, will please Remus.
There is another note on the desk.
[He] had been forced into prudence in [his] youth, [he] learned romance as [he] grew older – the natural sequel of an unnatural beginning.
Severus smiles at the brackets—Remus will always be precise, correct. But Severus’ heart is beating faster.
Romance, Remus has written. Romance. There has been precious little time for romance since Remus came home. Comfort, stability, emotional intimacy, even. But romance? Severus’ mouth has gone dry. He wants romance. He wants to feel desired. He wants to make Remus feel desired—feel special. He thinks for a moment. Treasured.
“Remus?” he says softly. He is almost afraid to let Remus hear him, lest the strange mood, created so simply by a few words penned on scraps of parchment, be destroyed.
The door to their bedroom is closed. Severus snatches the last parchment from where it is pinned, eager to read this final quotation.
…all, all declared that he had a heart returning to [him] at least; that anger, resentment, avoidance, were no more; and that they were succeeded, not merely by friendship and regard, but by the tenderness of the past; yes, some share of the tenderness of the past. [He] could not contemplate the change as implying less—he must love [him].
Severus stares at this note for a long time. Tenderness of the past. It is true that they were nearly friends, before Black attempted to feed Severus to his pet werewolf and Potter saved his life. But there are so many years between that and this, so many bitter things—his forcing Remus to resign, his murder of Dumbledore, Remus’ injury and Severus’ trial—but perhaps it is this past that has brought them back together. Perhaps it is because of the past, because of the old hurts as well as the old attraction, that they are here today.
He knocks softly on the door.
Remus’ voice is hoarse and low. “Come in.”
Severus pushes the door open, his movements slow and almost nervous. “I was worried,” he begins, and then realizes there is no need to worry. There is no need to think much at all.
The room is lit with the glow of candlelight. Dozens of candles float around them, flickering off the reflective surfaces in the room, glinting in Remus’ eyes. Severus catches his breath.
“I missed you,” Remus says, a quirk of mischief to the corners of his mouth. But the heat in his eyes sends warmth flooding through Severus and pooling low in his belly.
“You’re beautiful,” Severus blurts, and then feels stupid. But from the way Remus’ face lights up, this must have been the right thing to say.
“Come over here,” Remus orders, and Severus can do nothing but obey.
Remus is lying on the bed, wearing a pair of jeans, his shirt open in front. Severus slithers onto the bed and leans over him, resting his weight on his elbows. Remus smiles up at him and then leans up and their mouths meet, kissing and licking and even biting gently, teeth clicking quietly against each other in their desperation. Severus groans against Remus’ mouth and hopes Remus is feeling strong today, because there have already been two occasions when Severus thought this was going to happen--thought, and then had to desist because of Remus’ low energy levels. But now—
“Merlin, Severus, I want you!” Remus gasps, and Severus can only nod and groan in agreement.
Remus’ hands are working at Severus’ clothes, twisting buttons, tugging at hems, and soon Severus is wearing less than Remus, pressing kisses to Remus’ throat and chest, running his hands up and down Remus’ sides. “Remus,” he murmurs, “so perfect, so wonderful.” He wonders if he will have the courage to say what must be said.
Remus lifts a hand to cup Severus’ cheek; Severus’ notices the second finger is stained with deep red ink. He kisses the palm. “Let me,” Severus whispers, stroking his fingertips at Remus’ hips, and Remus nods.
Afterwards, lying together in sated splendour, Severus wonders if things will really change now. Somehow he doubts that they will.
Remus dozes for some time, but wakes up when the waxing gibbous moon rises. He shifts in Severus’ arms, then stretches. “I have some things I need to say,” he whispers.
Severus shakes his head. “You don’t, if you don’t want.”
“I do want. I want to be with you always. I want to know what makes you laugh and what makes you scowl. I want to know when you get sad and learn how to cheer you up. I want to be here for your every moment.”
Severus waits for a moment, thinking about the choices that have led him here. “I want the same,” he says softly. “I will love you all of my days. I will honour you all of my life.”
“I swear that I am yours,” Remus replies.
Severus smiles and kisses him again.
