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Entry tags:
Fic: Rite of Passage
Title: Rite of Passage
Author: ???
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Remus Lupin/Severus Snape
Summary: Severus invites friends, family and others to witness his mastery of yet another part of magic.
Challenge:
mini_fest’s Christmas Cheer without Stress 2011
Word Count: 3,257
Beta: The awesomely amazing SS who keeps me honest and polishes my inspiration.
Genre: Alternate Universe; Post-Second Voldemort War;
Warnings: Ignores HBP and DH
A/N: For all those who enjoy Severus getting what he deserves. A very merry Christmas, a blessed Winter Solstice, and happy holidays. Many thanks to the kindness and patience of the mods, too! Inspired by the fantastic artwork of
shadowycat, Sheerly Elegant Potions Master [R].
Disclaimer: The world of Harry Potter, its characters and settings are the copyrighted works of J.K. Rowling, Warner Bros., her publishing companies and affiliates. No profit was made from the writing of this story nor was any malice intended in any way, shape or form to the author or the actors/actresses who so brilliantly have brought them to life.
This author is not responsible for underage readers. Please observe the ratings, warnings, and age of legal consent for your country.
§¤§¤*§*¤§¤§
The guests arrived singly, with only the slightest of whoomps to disturb the evening air as they Apparated upon the freshly-mown lawn. The baa-baas of sheep, bells around their necks tinkling every-so-often, receded as the lowering sun drew them to their rest in a far barn. The Winter Solstice was almost upon them.
“Yous will follow me,” a small, but self-important, house-elf called out from the gloaming.
The twelve witches and wizards turned toward the house-elf, nodding silent greetings to each other as they crossed the lawn and through a tall yew hedge. On the other side of the hedge, the air was milder than it should have been for the Winter Solstice. They shed their cloaks, revealing robes decorated with runes, stars, Celtic double spirals, Greek incantations, Latin phrases, and so much more. They milled about, not talking, yet casting speaking glances at each other. Finally, the same officious house-elf as before cleared its throat, drawing all eyes to a heavy oak door bound in thick hammered iron straps set into a thick holly hedge.
“Yous will enter now.”
The guests lined up in order of magical power, not precedence. Young Harry Potter was the first to push open the thick oak door and step through. He held it for Remus Lupin as the werewolf was still recovering from his transformation the night before. Poppy Pomfrey hustled by, her wand barely visible in her hand as she cast sustaining spells at Lupin.
Next came Draco Malfoy, who slid an appreciative glance over Potter’s sturdy form as he passed through the holly hedge door. After him came his father, Lucius, a pinched look on his face as he passed Harry. Potter’s stalwart companion, Hermione Granger, walked arm-in-arm with Minerva McGonagall. They nodded to Potter as Hermione led her mentor through the door. Minister of Magic Shacklebolt nodded and smiled slightly at Potter as he bent his head to clear the ancient doorframe.
Molly Weasley was escorted by her son, George. Molly reached out and pushed some stray locks from Harry’s temple with a sigh. George winked and a small flurry of fireworks exploded silently over his head. Potter had to bite his lip to keep from grinning. Luna Lovegood tripped by lightly, her radish earrings gilded for the solemn occasion.
As the last person approached, a chill seemed to precede him. Potter left his position by the door just as Rufus Scrimgeour stomped through.
“Bastard,” someone hissed.
“Shh!” another someone responded.
Fine silks, thick brocades, and worked wool rustled as the group gaped at the space they’d entered. The house-elf directed people in an anti-clockwise direction until each one of them occupied a point corresponding to the numbers on a clock’s face. As Scrimgeour stepped into his place, a shimmering wall of magic surrounded them, yet another barrier within the hedges. An expectant hush filled the glade as they settled into their places.
An ancient votive altar took up the centre of the circle created by the witches and wizards. The Purebloods recognized it as dedicated to the matron goddess, Nehalennia. Worn images of ships, dogs, and what looked like a basket of fruit wove around the altar. Three bundles of cloth dotted the altar proper, symbolic offerings to her.
A broken Roman stela stood guard nearby. A partially obscured Latin inscription referred to Nehalennia and thanked her for her protections and her kindnesses. White chalk surrounded both the altar and the stela, a bright demarcation in the lawn. In the silence, Severus Snape appeared in the glade, rising from the ground. His magic added to the shimmering wall and sparks of silver flashed as the magic swirled around them. He stood between the altar and the stela, wrapped in fog, his posture relaxed yet as a supplicant’s.
The house-elf spoke from outside the circle of magic. “All has come to witness this ancient ceremony, Master.” Hermione shook her head, but kept silent. “Behold Severus Snape, master of Potions, acolyte of Nehalennia, child of Merlin. He comes before this coven so that it may bear witness to his mastery of Alchemy.” No one seemed bothered that the creature’s diction has improved, his voice deepening as if with aged wisdom.
“Tonight, the planets have aligned and the stars have shared their light. Tonight, the moon is at perigee, and the beast is tamed.” Remus nodded slightly even as his hands became fists at his side. Harry stiffened and scowled at Severus’ bowed head. “Tonight, he comes before you without armour, without malice.” The magic wall flared and the colours blended and then swirled apart, a living kaleidoscope. “Tonight, there will be alchemy.”
Someone shifted in their place, their robes dragging over the grass. Breaths were caught as the power surrounding them brushed against them, fireflies of potential bursting and disappearing around them.
A soft tune ebbed and flowed in the night air. Severus straightened up and rolled his shoulders to let the robe of fog fall and disappear into the ground. Slowly, Severus began the ancient rite, bowing to each coven member, looking them in the eye and nodding before going on to the next. With silent greetings done, he swayed in place, moving with the low song. He flexed and bent his body, his wand and a steaming cup appearing in either hand as he danced sinuously around the altar and the stela.
Shades seeped from the ground to waver between the encircling witches and wizards. Ghosts appeared above the glade and fell gently to earth. Someone gasped as Albus Dumbledore smiled, his faintly lavender robes almost invisible against the evening sky. Sirius Black whirled out from behind the stela and Charity Burbridge walked through Nehalennia’s altar causing bitten-back oaths and choked sobs to burst out in counterpoint to the night’s music.
All the participants—the coven, the ghosts, the shades—were focused on Severus’ fluid motions. He levitated and spun in the air, bending his head back, offering his potion to the heavens and his wand to the earth. The wall of magic thickened and darkened as an ethereal light began to build under Severus’ skin, showing one and all that the long ceremonial gown he wore was of the finest, sheerest lawn. No eyes left Severus as he pirouetted and posed above the glade floor.
Finally, the music seemed to swell, the vibrations starting at the feet of the coven and shivering up their spines to culminate in a shout of approbation. Severus stilled in the air, bent backward in his offering pose once more. He slowly, lightly floated to his starting place between Nehalennia’s altar and the Roman stela. His wand glowed with magical potential and the steaming cup in his hand now gave off the scents of lavender and rose, chocolate and brandy, and gave off a golden radiance. Luna clapped as she oohed and ahhed in delight.
“I thank you for your presence, witches and wizards, living and deceased,” Severus said. His voice seemed to hum with power as he spoke. “I give thanks for the gifts of your magic and your good will.” Scrimgeour flinched as something seemed to bite him. “I shall attempt to use the power I have gained for the good of all, for the benefit of the many.” The final words of the ancient rite were almost visible, hanging in the air until the faint breeze spread them apart.
The wall of magic sparkled as the colours of their magics spun, and then, it slowly dissipated around them. The shades sank into the ground with soft sighs. The ghosts converged upon Severus and floated through him before bowing or curtsying to the coven members and taking their leave. The golden glow in each of Severus’ hands dimmed and then winked out, leaving everyone blinking at the loss. The rite was ended. Severus Snape was acknowledged an Alchemic Master by his peers, his friends, his family, and his enemy.
“Yous will exit this way,” the imperious house-elf intoned solemnly. He stood near another small door through the hedge, this one painted with golden runes of good fortune, protection, and good intent.
The guests milled about in a beautiful ballroom. Lucius held Narcissa’s hand on his forearm with two fingers, a sure sign he was uncomfortable but still bearing up. She patted those two fingers every so often, her eyes darting around the room, cataloguing people and things.
Kingsley towered over Molly Weasley, listening intently as she rattled off the newest additions to the clan. George kept trying to look anywhere but Hermione and failing miserably. Minerva finally took pity on him and summoned him to her side with an imperious finger. With a wink, she neatly stepped aside to speak with Poppy Pomfrey and gave George his fondest wish.
“So, why do you think he invited Scrimgeour?” Draco asked as he leaned on the wall nest to Harry Potter and Remus Lupin. He sipped Muggle champagne from an antique glass, avoiding looking at Potter.
“Remus said an enemy had to be at the rite to make it legal and binding. I’d vote Scrimgeour an enemy of everyone here,” Harry muttered into his own drink.
“He’s not so much an enemy as an unwell-wisher,” Luna said. “You can tell he’s just full of ill intent towards a great many people here.” She wriggled her fingers in former Minister’s direction and he turned his shoulder to her. Luna laughed. “See? He’s afraid of a simple ‘yoo hoo’ gesture.” The two young men chuckled and then began asking Luna for her impressions of the ritual.
“I see your adoptive godson brought you in good order.” Severus spoke from behind Remus’ left shoulder, making the werewolf start in surprise. He’d slipped inside on kitten’s paws, avoiding everyone but Remus.
“You threatened to separate his hair from his scalp if he failed to make certain I was here, Severus,” Remus replied with a faint smile. He turned slowly on his heel and glanced into Severus’ eyes. “It seems the magic is still within you,” he whispered. His eyes flickered down to see Severus’ robes were still black, but there was a design in black thread along the edges, hiding in plain sight.
“Ah, you see the gold dust as well? It’s of no matter, but I do think it detracts from the gravity of the ceremony.” Severus rolled his sparkling dark eyes and put a hand on Remus’ arm to draw him closer. “I’d much rather show you what else is glowing, in private,” he whispered.
The faint words caught Remus’ attention, and his interest, and he listened hard to the conversations going on around them. No one had noticed Severus’ soft suggestion, or if they had, they were studiously ignoring it. In fact, even Scrimgeour was looking elsewhere—heatedly at Hermione Granger and Luna Lovegood!
Scrimgeour glared at George as he put his arm around Hermione, then he sneered as Draco and Harry bent their heads closer to Luna’s. He was alone in one of the conversational corners of the ballroom. None of the others approached him, no one beckoned him closer. Finally, he slammed down his empty glass and stomped over to Severus and Remus.
“You may have gained Alchemic Mastery, Snape, but you’re still a Death Eater and a Dark Wizard. You may be able to mouth the words of the rite, but you’ll never be able to live up to them,” he growled.
“Dibble?” Severus called out. The officious house-elf appeared with the barest of pops. “Show Mr. Scrimgeour out, would you? He will not be visiting again.” The house-elf nodded sharply and grabbed Scrimgeour’s arm and popped away, the former Minister’s yowl cut off before it could begin.
“Bravo!” George Weasley shouted. Hermione and his mother clapped and laughed.
“Yes, well done!” Kingsley boomed out. He raised his glass in a toast. “To Severus! For becoming yet more than even he knew he could and for ridding us of the sourpuss!”
“Huzzah! Huzzah! Huzzah!” Harry and Draco cheered. The others joined in, applauding and raising their voices in agreement.
“Nicely done, Mr. Snape,” Luna shouted.
Severus flushed—whether with surprise or pleasure, only Remus could tell—and raised his hands in an appeal to quiet the others. “Please! This time is supposed to be, if not solemn, at least circumspect.” George let off another one of his fireworks, whirled Hermione into a kiss, and then bowed with her in his arms as everyone applauded.
“Well, fine, then. Dibble, you’ll see to my guests?” Severus asked his house-elf major domo. He smiled slightly as Minerva McGonagall and Narcissa Malfoy drew closer, hands describing something in the air as they spoke together, and Poppy Pomfrey cornered Lucius Malfoy by the simple expedient of grabbing his robes and not letting him go anywhere.
“Yeses, sir. Theys safe with us.” Dibble snapped his fingers and several house-elves began circulating the room with platters of hors d'oeuvres and drinks. As the guests mingled more freely, Severus nodded and accepted their thanks, speaking with each of them before slowly working himself and Remus out of the ballroom and into an antechamber.
A quick flick of Severus’ wand created a wall between the pair and the ballroom. “There! Now we can finally be alone,” he muttered as he pulled Remus close.
Remus let himself be drawn close, relishing the strength in Severus’ hands as they cupped his face and pulled him down just enough to align their lips. Severus murmured against Remus’ lips, “I’ve waited hours for this,” and pressed up, deepening their kiss.
The silence was punctuated by muted conversations from the ballroom and the slide of hands inside robes, surprising soft gasps. Several minutes passed, Severus making inroads against the defences of Remus’ robes until Remus patted his back and pulled his head away. “Mercy, Severus. Remember? I transformed last night. I’m but a shadow of myself,” he teased lightly. His hand went from patting Severus’ back to smoothing up and down, moulding over Severus’ buttock and gripping, then repeating.
“You may be a shadow of yourself, but your grip is still quite lively,” Severus said drily. Remus looked at him and grinned. The man’s cheeks were red, his lips moist and full from their kisses.
“You look well on your way to being debauched.” Remus reached up and pushed some stray locks from Severus’ temple. “I take it there’s a chaise somewhere in here?” Remus’ voice was husky, his eyes darkening as he looked into Severus’ still glowing eyes.
“Oh, aye, there is,” Severus murmured. His fingers seemed unwilling to let Remus go as he turned, but it was a necessity if they didn’t want to end up on the floor in a heap. Remus looked in the direction Severus had moved; there was a chaise, a bit larger than normal, cushions and blankets draping it. “I planned to pamper you tonight, since it’s almost Christmas...”
“Lay me out like Father Christmas on Boxing Day and you can do anything you want to, Severus,” Remus said with a sigh. He let himself be led to the chaise and then slowly, tenderly stripped. Severus gently pushed Remus onto the chaise, arranging him until he was just so. Once Remus was ready, Severus tore at his clothes, pulling at the frogs of his robes until one ball of material came off in his hand.
“Come here, Severus.” Remus held out his hand, scarring from the night before making a red mark on his forearm. When Severus stood at his side, Remus swiftly dealt with the frogs and then the buttons, until Severus was unclothed as well. A sudden tug brought Severus down on top of Remus and they both moaned at the touch of heated, naked skin.
“Is this my present then, Severus?” Remus asked against Severus’ throat. He nipped and sucked, the idea that any one of the witches and wizards nearby could find them feasting on each other making him even more amorous. He left a broad design around Severus’ Adam’s-apple, licking inside the divot at the base of his throat until Severus whined.
“Do you know you’re still glowing, Severus?” Remus touched and licked the skin he could reach, his chest and stomach fluttering against Severus as the man ground his cock down onto Remus’.
“Warm in here,” Severus muttered as he finally squirmed down far enough to bite Remus’ earlobes, abusing them lovingly, sucking them, and then blowing on them. His reward was Remus heaving up, grinding their cocks together in slippery, sweaty ecstasy and embracing Severus in a hot clench.
The magic within Severus added to each sensation, each thrust and slide of body on body. As he touched Remus’ skin, he didn’t notice how the scars from the prior night’s transformation disappeared, leaving smooth, healthy skin behind. When Remus reached down and began opening Severus, neither one of them noticed how fluid Remus’ motions were, how much more flexible he was after his transformation.
When Remus’ fingers breached Severus, when he touched that magic button hidden within, the magic pulsed along Severus’ veins, seeping out of his skin to drop onto Remus’ body and be absorbed. Soon, they were softly glowing together as Remus slid inside Severus’ welcoming body.
Severus pressed heated, open-mouthed kisses to Remus’ shoulders and chin and then reared up, riding Remus’ rolling hips with grunts and shouts of more, more, love you, more. Remus’ hands never left Severus’ hips, lifting him and then easing him down his cock until it became too much. Soon Severus was a quivering mass impaling himself over and over on Remus’ cock and Remus was biting his lip, head thrown back as his orgasm burst from him to fill up Severus. Remus’ heat sparked Severus’ orgasm and he spent himself onto Remus’ shivering stomach and then fell forward to gasp against Remus’ shoulder.
“Oh, Merlin,” Severus gasped. “That was...that was brilliant....” He closed his eyes and pulled in breath after breath in gulps as his heart stuttered and slowed to match the rhythm of Remus’.
Remus breathed deeply and wrapped one arm around Severus as their connection ended. Still they breathed in concert, their hearts echoing each others. “Brilliant doesn’t begin to cover it. Magnificent, stunning, celestial...I could go on.”
“Tug the blanket over me as you do, Remus,” Severus said tiredly. He let his head fall to Remus’ shoulder, the golden glow of magic finally disappeared from underneath his skin. Within minutes he was snoring into Remus’ throat, wrapped securely within one of the blankets laid over the chaise.
Remus noticed the deep scar on his arm was no longer there and turned it, this way and that, until Severus muttered in his sleep. He smiled against Severus’ temple and then pressed a soft kiss there. “Thank you, Severus. And I thank your Nehalennia for her aid, too.” He fell into a deep sleep as well, unaware that the matron goddess had seen and heard.
A shadow in the shape of a curvaceous woman, fruit embroidered on her robes and a wolf at her side, slid through the wall from the glade and looked down on Severus and Remus. “Each child that comes to me receives what they need. That is what mothers do,” she said in a soft voice. As the words dissipated on the air, Nehalennia disappeared with her wolf, leaving behind only the scents of the harvest in the room, and a single golden apple upon Severus’ discarded robes.
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Author: ???
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Remus Lupin/Severus Snape
Summary: Severus invites friends, family and others to witness his mastery of yet another part of magic.
Challenge:
![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
Word Count: 3,257
Beta: The awesomely amazing SS who keeps me honest and polishes my inspiration.
Genre: Alternate Universe; Post-Second Voldemort War;
Warnings: Ignores HBP and DH
A/N: For all those who enjoy Severus getting what he deserves. A very merry Christmas, a blessed Winter Solstice, and happy holidays. Many thanks to the kindness and patience of the mods, too! Inspired by the fantastic artwork of
![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
Disclaimer: The world of Harry Potter, its characters and settings are the copyrighted works of J.K. Rowling, Warner Bros., her publishing companies and affiliates. No profit was made from the writing of this story nor was any malice intended in any way, shape or form to the author or the actors/actresses who so brilliantly have brought them to life.
This author is not responsible for underage readers. Please observe the ratings, warnings, and age of legal consent for your country.
The guests arrived singly, with only the slightest of whoomps to disturb the evening air as they Apparated upon the freshly-mown lawn. The baa-baas of sheep, bells around their necks tinkling every-so-often, receded as the lowering sun drew them to their rest in a far barn. The Winter Solstice was almost upon them.
“Yous will follow me,” a small, but self-important, house-elf called out from the gloaming.
The twelve witches and wizards turned toward the house-elf, nodding silent greetings to each other as they crossed the lawn and through a tall yew hedge. On the other side of the hedge, the air was milder than it should have been for the Winter Solstice. They shed their cloaks, revealing robes decorated with runes, stars, Celtic double spirals, Greek incantations, Latin phrases, and so much more. They milled about, not talking, yet casting speaking glances at each other. Finally, the same officious house-elf as before cleared its throat, drawing all eyes to a heavy oak door bound in thick hammered iron straps set into a thick holly hedge.
“Yous will enter now.”
The guests lined up in order of magical power, not precedence. Young Harry Potter was the first to push open the thick oak door and step through. He held it for Remus Lupin as the werewolf was still recovering from his transformation the night before. Poppy Pomfrey hustled by, her wand barely visible in her hand as she cast sustaining spells at Lupin.
Next came Draco Malfoy, who slid an appreciative glance over Potter’s sturdy form as he passed through the holly hedge door. After him came his father, Lucius, a pinched look on his face as he passed Harry. Potter’s stalwart companion, Hermione Granger, walked arm-in-arm with Minerva McGonagall. They nodded to Potter as Hermione led her mentor through the door. Minister of Magic Shacklebolt nodded and smiled slightly at Potter as he bent his head to clear the ancient doorframe.
Molly Weasley was escorted by her son, George. Molly reached out and pushed some stray locks from Harry’s temple with a sigh. George winked and a small flurry of fireworks exploded silently over his head. Potter had to bite his lip to keep from grinning. Luna Lovegood tripped by lightly, her radish earrings gilded for the solemn occasion.
As the last person approached, a chill seemed to precede him. Potter left his position by the door just as Rufus Scrimgeour stomped through.
“Bastard,” someone hissed.
“Shh!” another someone responded.
Fine silks, thick brocades, and worked wool rustled as the group gaped at the space they’d entered. The house-elf directed people in an anti-clockwise direction until each one of them occupied a point corresponding to the numbers on a clock’s face. As Scrimgeour stepped into his place, a shimmering wall of magic surrounded them, yet another barrier within the hedges. An expectant hush filled the glade as they settled into their places.
An ancient votive altar took up the centre of the circle created by the witches and wizards. The Purebloods recognized it as dedicated to the matron goddess, Nehalennia. Worn images of ships, dogs, and what looked like a basket of fruit wove around the altar. Three bundles of cloth dotted the altar proper, symbolic offerings to her.
A broken Roman stela stood guard nearby. A partially obscured Latin inscription referred to Nehalennia and thanked her for her protections and her kindnesses. White chalk surrounded both the altar and the stela, a bright demarcation in the lawn. In the silence, Severus Snape appeared in the glade, rising from the ground. His magic added to the shimmering wall and sparks of silver flashed as the magic swirled around them. He stood between the altar and the stela, wrapped in fog, his posture relaxed yet as a supplicant’s.
The house-elf spoke from outside the circle of magic. “All has come to witness this ancient ceremony, Master.” Hermione shook her head, but kept silent. “Behold Severus Snape, master of Potions, acolyte of Nehalennia, child of Merlin. He comes before this coven so that it may bear witness to his mastery of Alchemy.” No one seemed bothered that the creature’s diction has improved, his voice deepening as if with aged wisdom.
“Tonight, the planets have aligned and the stars have shared their light. Tonight, the moon is at perigee, and the beast is tamed.” Remus nodded slightly even as his hands became fists at his side. Harry stiffened and scowled at Severus’ bowed head. “Tonight, he comes before you without armour, without malice.” The magic wall flared and the colours blended and then swirled apart, a living kaleidoscope. “Tonight, there will be alchemy.”
Someone shifted in their place, their robes dragging over the grass. Breaths were caught as the power surrounding them brushed against them, fireflies of potential bursting and disappearing around them.
A soft tune ebbed and flowed in the night air. Severus straightened up and rolled his shoulders to let the robe of fog fall and disappear into the ground. Slowly, Severus began the ancient rite, bowing to each coven member, looking them in the eye and nodding before going on to the next. With silent greetings done, he swayed in place, moving with the low song. He flexed and bent his body, his wand and a steaming cup appearing in either hand as he danced sinuously around the altar and the stela.
Shades seeped from the ground to waver between the encircling witches and wizards. Ghosts appeared above the glade and fell gently to earth. Someone gasped as Albus Dumbledore smiled, his faintly lavender robes almost invisible against the evening sky. Sirius Black whirled out from behind the stela and Charity Burbridge walked through Nehalennia’s altar causing bitten-back oaths and choked sobs to burst out in counterpoint to the night’s music.
All the participants—the coven, the ghosts, the shades—were focused on Severus’ fluid motions. He levitated and spun in the air, bending his head back, offering his potion to the heavens and his wand to the earth. The wall of magic thickened and darkened as an ethereal light began to build under Severus’ skin, showing one and all that the long ceremonial gown he wore was of the finest, sheerest lawn. No eyes left Severus as he pirouetted and posed above the glade floor.
Finally, the music seemed to swell, the vibrations starting at the feet of the coven and shivering up their spines to culminate in a shout of approbation. Severus stilled in the air, bent backward in his offering pose once more. He slowly, lightly floated to his starting place between Nehalennia’s altar and the Roman stela. His wand glowed with magical potential and the steaming cup in his hand now gave off the scents of lavender and rose, chocolate and brandy, and gave off a golden radiance. Luna clapped as she oohed and ahhed in delight.
“I thank you for your presence, witches and wizards, living and deceased,” Severus said. His voice seemed to hum with power as he spoke. “I give thanks for the gifts of your magic and your good will.” Scrimgeour flinched as something seemed to bite him. “I shall attempt to use the power I have gained for the good of all, for the benefit of the many.” The final words of the ancient rite were almost visible, hanging in the air until the faint breeze spread them apart.
The wall of magic sparkled as the colours of their magics spun, and then, it slowly dissipated around them. The shades sank into the ground with soft sighs. The ghosts converged upon Severus and floated through him before bowing or curtsying to the coven members and taking their leave. The golden glow in each of Severus’ hands dimmed and then winked out, leaving everyone blinking at the loss. The rite was ended. Severus Snape was acknowledged an Alchemic Master by his peers, his friends, his family, and his enemy.
“Yous will exit this way,” the imperious house-elf intoned solemnly. He stood near another small door through the hedge, this one painted with golden runes of good fortune, protection, and good intent.
The guests milled about in a beautiful ballroom. Lucius held Narcissa’s hand on his forearm with two fingers, a sure sign he was uncomfortable but still bearing up. She patted those two fingers every so often, her eyes darting around the room, cataloguing people and things.
Kingsley towered over Molly Weasley, listening intently as she rattled off the newest additions to the clan. George kept trying to look anywhere but Hermione and failing miserably. Minerva finally took pity on him and summoned him to her side with an imperious finger. With a wink, she neatly stepped aside to speak with Poppy Pomfrey and gave George his fondest wish.
“So, why do you think he invited Scrimgeour?” Draco asked as he leaned on the wall nest to Harry Potter and Remus Lupin. He sipped Muggle champagne from an antique glass, avoiding looking at Potter.
“Remus said an enemy had to be at the rite to make it legal and binding. I’d vote Scrimgeour an enemy of everyone here,” Harry muttered into his own drink.
“He’s not so much an enemy as an unwell-wisher,” Luna said. “You can tell he’s just full of ill intent towards a great many people here.” She wriggled her fingers in former Minister’s direction and he turned his shoulder to her. Luna laughed. “See? He’s afraid of a simple ‘yoo hoo’ gesture.” The two young men chuckled and then began asking Luna for her impressions of the ritual.
“I see your adoptive godson brought you in good order.” Severus spoke from behind Remus’ left shoulder, making the werewolf start in surprise. He’d slipped inside on kitten’s paws, avoiding everyone but Remus.
“You threatened to separate his hair from his scalp if he failed to make certain I was here, Severus,” Remus replied with a faint smile. He turned slowly on his heel and glanced into Severus’ eyes. “It seems the magic is still within you,” he whispered. His eyes flickered down to see Severus’ robes were still black, but there was a design in black thread along the edges, hiding in plain sight.
“Ah, you see the gold dust as well? It’s of no matter, but I do think it detracts from the gravity of the ceremony.” Severus rolled his sparkling dark eyes and put a hand on Remus’ arm to draw him closer. “I’d much rather show you what else is glowing, in private,” he whispered.
The faint words caught Remus’ attention, and his interest, and he listened hard to the conversations going on around them. No one had noticed Severus’ soft suggestion, or if they had, they were studiously ignoring it. In fact, even Scrimgeour was looking elsewhere—heatedly at Hermione Granger and Luna Lovegood!
Scrimgeour glared at George as he put his arm around Hermione, then he sneered as Draco and Harry bent their heads closer to Luna’s. He was alone in one of the conversational corners of the ballroom. None of the others approached him, no one beckoned him closer. Finally, he slammed down his empty glass and stomped over to Severus and Remus.
“You may have gained Alchemic Mastery, Snape, but you’re still a Death Eater and a Dark Wizard. You may be able to mouth the words of the rite, but you’ll never be able to live up to them,” he growled.
“Dibble?” Severus called out. The officious house-elf appeared with the barest of pops. “Show Mr. Scrimgeour out, would you? He will not be visiting again.” The house-elf nodded sharply and grabbed Scrimgeour’s arm and popped away, the former Minister’s yowl cut off before it could begin.
“Bravo!” George Weasley shouted. Hermione and his mother clapped and laughed.
“Yes, well done!” Kingsley boomed out. He raised his glass in a toast. “To Severus! For becoming yet more than even he knew he could and for ridding us of the sourpuss!”
“Huzzah! Huzzah! Huzzah!” Harry and Draco cheered. The others joined in, applauding and raising their voices in agreement.
“Nicely done, Mr. Snape,” Luna shouted.
Severus flushed—whether with surprise or pleasure, only Remus could tell—and raised his hands in an appeal to quiet the others. “Please! This time is supposed to be, if not solemn, at least circumspect.” George let off another one of his fireworks, whirled Hermione into a kiss, and then bowed with her in his arms as everyone applauded.
“Well, fine, then. Dibble, you’ll see to my guests?” Severus asked his house-elf major domo. He smiled slightly as Minerva McGonagall and Narcissa Malfoy drew closer, hands describing something in the air as they spoke together, and Poppy Pomfrey cornered Lucius Malfoy by the simple expedient of grabbing his robes and not letting him go anywhere.
“Yeses, sir. Theys safe with us.” Dibble snapped his fingers and several house-elves began circulating the room with platters of hors d'oeuvres and drinks. As the guests mingled more freely, Severus nodded and accepted their thanks, speaking with each of them before slowly working himself and Remus out of the ballroom and into an antechamber.
A quick flick of Severus’ wand created a wall between the pair and the ballroom. “There! Now we can finally be alone,” he muttered as he pulled Remus close.
Remus let himself be drawn close, relishing the strength in Severus’ hands as they cupped his face and pulled him down just enough to align their lips. Severus murmured against Remus’ lips, “I’ve waited hours for this,” and pressed up, deepening their kiss.
The silence was punctuated by muted conversations from the ballroom and the slide of hands inside robes, surprising soft gasps. Several minutes passed, Severus making inroads against the defences of Remus’ robes until Remus patted his back and pulled his head away. “Mercy, Severus. Remember? I transformed last night. I’m but a shadow of myself,” he teased lightly. His hand went from patting Severus’ back to smoothing up and down, moulding over Severus’ buttock and gripping, then repeating.
“You may be a shadow of yourself, but your grip is still quite lively,” Severus said drily. Remus looked at him and grinned. The man’s cheeks were red, his lips moist and full from their kisses.
“You look well on your way to being debauched.” Remus reached up and pushed some stray locks from Severus’ temple. “I take it there’s a chaise somewhere in here?” Remus’ voice was husky, his eyes darkening as he looked into Severus’ still glowing eyes.
“Oh, aye, there is,” Severus murmured. His fingers seemed unwilling to let Remus go as he turned, but it was a necessity if they didn’t want to end up on the floor in a heap. Remus looked in the direction Severus had moved; there was a chaise, a bit larger than normal, cushions and blankets draping it. “I planned to pamper you tonight, since it’s almost Christmas...”
“Lay me out like Father Christmas on Boxing Day and you can do anything you want to, Severus,” Remus said with a sigh. He let himself be led to the chaise and then slowly, tenderly stripped. Severus gently pushed Remus onto the chaise, arranging him until he was just so. Once Remus was ready, Severus tore at his clothes, pulling at the frogs of his robes until one ball of material came off in his hand.
“Come here, Severus.” Remus held out his hand, scarring from the night before making a red mark on his forearm. When Severus stood at his side, Remus swiftly dealt with the frogs and then the buttons, until Severus was unclothed as well. A sudden tug brought Severus down on top of Remus and they both moaned at the touch of heated, naked skin.
“Is this my present then, Severus?” Remus asked against Severus’ throat. He nipped and sucked, the idea that any one of the witches and wizards nearby could find them feasting on each other making him even more amorous. He left a broad design around Severus’ Adam’s-apple, licking inside the divot at the base of his throat until Severus whined.
“Do you know you’re still glowing, Severus?” Remus touched and licked the skin he could reach, his chest and stomach fluttering against Severus as the man ground his cock down onto Remus’.
“Warm in here,” Severus muttered as he finally squirmed down far enough to bite Remus’ earlobes, abusing them lovingly, sucking them, and then blowing on them. His reward was Remus heaving up, grinding their cocks together in slippery, sweaty ecstasy and embracing Severus in a hot clench.
The magic within Severus added to each sensation, each thrust and slide of body on body. As he touched Remus’ skin, he didn’t notice how the scars from the prior night’s transformation disappeared, leaving smooth, healthy skin behind. When Remus reached down and began opening Severus, neither one of them noticed how fluid Remus’ motions were, how much more flexible he was after his transformation.
When Remus’ fingers breached Severus, when he touched that magic button hidden within, the magic pulsed along Severus’ veins, seeping out of his skin to drop onto Remus’ body and be absorbed. Soon, they were softly glowing together as Remus slid inside Severus’ welcoming body.
Severus pressed heated, open-mouthed kisses to Remus’ shoulders and chin and then reared up, riding Remus’ rolling hips with grunts and shouts of more, more, love you, more. Remus’ hands never left Severus’ hips, lifting him and then easing him down his cock until it became too much. Soon Severus was a quivering mass impaling himself over and over on Remus’ cock and Remus was biting his lip, head thrown back as his orgasm burst from him to fill up Severus. Remus’ heat sparked Severus’ orgasm and he spent himself onto Remus’ shivering stomach and then fell forward to gasp against Remus’ shoulder.
“Oh, Merlin,” Severus gasped. “That was...that was brilliant....” He closed his eyes and pulled in breath after breath in gulps as his heart stuttered and slowed to match the rhythm of Remus’.
Remus breathed deeply and wrapped one arm around Severus as their connection ended. Still they breathed in concert, their hearts echoing each others. “Brilliant doesn’t begin to cover it. Magnificent, stunning, celestial...I could go on.”
“Tug the blanket over me as you do, Remus,” Severus said tiredly. He let his head fall to Remus’ shoulder, the golden glow of magic finally disappeared from underneath his skin. Within minutes he was snoring into Remus’ throat, wrapped securely within one of the blankets laid over the chaise.
Remus noticed the deep scar on his arm was no longer there and turned it, this way and that, until Severus muttered in his sleep. He smiled against Severus’ temple and then pressed a soft kiss there. “Thank you, Severus. And I thank your Nehalennia for her aid, too.” He fell into a deep sleep as well, unaware that the matron goddess had seen and heard.
A shadow in the shape of a curvaceous woman, fruit embroidered on her robes and a wolf at her side, slid through the wall from the glade and looked down on Severus and Remus. “Each child that comes to me receives what they need. That is what mothers do,” she said in a soft voice. As the words dissipated on the air, Nehalennia disappeared with her wolf, leaving behind only the scents of the harvest in the room, and a single golden apple upon Severus’ discarded robes.