Sliding in just under the wire... Fic!

[rillalicious]

scatteredlogic!!! I finished! At 3 am, but I finished! Yay!

Title: This Poisoned Well
Characters: Snape/Bill, Charlie (Snapill. Heh.) with a brief reference to Charlie/Macnair
Rating: NC-17ish, though not heavy on the smut
Word Count: 8675
A/N: This is for scatteredlogic and I promised it as a drabble AGES ago. It got a little long on me. And dark, but hopefully not too dark. Any mistakes are mine and mine alone as I forced ellensmithee to do a very hasty beta read. Anyway, enjoy! (No DH leak spoilers or anything.)
ETA - Formatting is fixed.





This Poisoned Well


Severus had thought, at first, that it would be easy enough not to touch. The first time his captor snarled at him, the wolf-like curl of his lip giving way to teeth sharper than those of the average man, Severus felt nothing but revulsion. Once upon a time, Severus considered Bill Weasley his opposite in every way: handsome, charming, confident. Now Weasley was a ghost of those things, mauled by a monster, inexplicably rid of his new bride, ill-tempered and cruel. He reminded Severus too much of himself to evoke anything but disgust.

Gone was the ponytail Molly Weasley had so despised on her eldest son, replaced by wild, unkempt hair that fell midway down his back and over his shoulders and across his deeply marred face. The hunch of his shoulders distorted his height, and he stalked the small, unplotted house where they hid in a manner reminiscent of Greyback himself. Severus never took both eyes off Bill Weasley, though there were times when it seemed that Weasley forgot he was supposed to be the one watching Severus.

Unaffected by the moon, Weasley's foul mood apparently lasted the whole of the month, his grunted curses nearly the only sounds he made when he wasn't barking directions at Severus.

"The Order needs you alive, Snape," he'd said, and the word 'Order' came out with such venom that Severus momentarily wondered whose side Weasley was on. "You have to brew the Wolfsbane."

"And if I refuse?" Severus had asked.

Weasley shrugged then. "They'll let me get rid of you as I see fit."

There was too much of the wolf in Weasley for Severus to agree to that. He'd lowered his eyes in an unusual act of acquiescence. At least there would be no more running as long as he was useful to them.

The running had been the worst of it. He'd warned Albus this would happen; the Dark Lord was more astute than the old man ever realized. Almost as soon as Severus returned to the circle with Malfoy, the rumors began. He'd fled two weeks later, wanted by both sides, never safe, never able to sleep in peace, and he'd run for nearly a year. When Bill Weasley caught up with him, he'd been easy quarry, ill from lack of food and water, disoriented from sleep deprivation. He couldn't even remember Weasley bringing him to this place.

Three weeks were marked by chalk lines on the floor of Severus's tiny room. Weasley paced. Severus brewed the Wolfsbane. Sometimes Weasley left—only after doing an admirable job of cursing every possible escape route from the house—presumably on Order business, and often he'd return in the middle of the night, panting heavily with exhaustion. He never spoke about it, but Severus could imagine what was going on. He could imagine a lot of thoughts he'd never wished to entertain, and the isolation of this house didn't make it any easier to separate memory from waking nightmare.

Day after day Severus prepared the potion, presumably for the man he resented most, and busied himself with the soothing repetition of creating simpler potions in his spare time. They were useless here, of course, but he wouldn't allow his skills to atrophy under the Order's misguided house arrest. He worked in silence each night until he realized one evening that he was no longer alone in the makeshift laboratory. Weasley stood over his shoulder, watching.

"Why did you kill him?" Weasley asked suddenly, in the unsteady voice of a man of shaken faith.

"It was his choice," Severus said. "Not mine."

"You're lying."

"What purpose would lying serve? You'll kill me as soon as you find a replacement, whether I lie to you now or not."

Weasley breathed heavily and stepped closer, and Severus could feel the heat from Weasley's body wrap around him like a spell. He shivered and tried to move away, but there was no place to go. Too much celibacy, Severus thought. There had been too much fucking celibacy before he'd had to go into hiding. He should have taken whatever he could get when he had the chance instead of living under the delusion that things would somehow, some way, be better someday.

Weasley was still breathing down his neck, but Severus refused to move a muscle. He knew better than to drink from this poisoned well.

"He… He really asked you to."

"Yes."

"You still haven't given me a reason to believe that."

"I wasn't aware I was under obligation to prove my innocence to you."

Weasley glared. "Whether he wanted you to do it or not, you're no innocent, Snape."

Severus reached across the counter, his hand trembling slightly as he grabbed a scant handful of black powder and sprinkled it over the surface of the potion.

"Doesn't your new bride mind your absence?" he asked with a note of gleeful malice.

"We divorced two weeks after the honeymoon," Weasley said. And then, unexpectedly, he added, "I'm not a man anymore. I'm nobody's husband."

He stood behind Severus wordlessly after that, still crowding Severus's personal space, but there had been a subtle change in the heat radiating from his body. It carried with it a desperation, a loneliness, that Severus remembered from years long past. Most troubling, it dredged up something within himself that Severus had long ago buried.

In the days that followed, Weasley watched him work more often, sometimes asking questions, despite the lack of response from Severus, but usually sitting on a stool in quiet observation. Though Severus would never admit it to another living soul, there were moments when he found himself glad for the company.

Gradually, the missions became more frequent. Severus never offered to heal Weasley's wounds upon his return, and for his part, Weasley never requested assistance. When Weasley returned exceptionally bloodied and silent one night, Severus had asked if it was over. Weasley growled and stalked forward a few steps, then abruptly turned and rushed from the room. Severus listened to him vomit for the next ten minutes.

Moments later, the rhythmic thump of water slapping away at the tile flooded the room, and continued for two, then three, then four times as long as Weasley normally showered. Not that Severus had been paying particular attention to Weasley's showers, he amended for his own memory. The water kept running. That hadn't been Weasley's own blood. Severus had taken many such showers, and it was always the blood of those closest to him that took the longest to rinse away. It clung to the skin for days afterward, weeks if the poor soul had died. Even when it was no longer visible, it was there, tangible. After the first few years, though, he found that he didn't care anymore.

When a single choked cry rose over the sound of pounding water, Severus surmised that it had been the blood of another Weasley. Or perhaps the missing wife. Lost in his evaluation of the situation, Severus hardly heard Weasley coming, but the next thing he knew, he was thrown against the wall, his instincts driving him to reach for the wand he hadn't carried in months, and his spine went stone rigid as Weasley easily overpowered him.

"I want to serve your master," Weasley said, breathing hotly down Severus's neck. Severus turned his head away, pressing his temple to the wall. At least Weasley had the good sense to freshen up after being sick.

"My master was Albus Dumbledore," he said quietly. As he'd told Potter so adamantly a year ago, he was no coward, but this was not how he wanted to die, alone and forgotten at the hand of a man-turned-monster.

"You're lying, Snape. You know what I mean."

Severus turned to face Weasley, sneering, their faces so close that their noses barely touched. Weasley glared through the curtain of damp hair.

"He'll kill me on sight now," Severus said. "I couldn't bring you to him if I wanted to, and believe me, at the moment I'd rather enjoy seeing your head served up on the Dark Lord's dinner plate."

"Then I'll use you instead," Weasley snarled and he closed one hand over Severus's throat. "I don't even need them. There are ways to keep death at bay, aren't there? He knows them. Do you know them, too?"
So it was another Weasley. "Just what are you suggesting?" Severus asked, his adam's apple scraping the palm of Weasley's hand as he tried to swallow.

"I have to save a life," Weasley said.

Severus didn't need to turn to Occlumency to read Weasley's desperation.
"Your brother," he said calmly, waiting for the telltale flinch of Weasley's eye before continuing. "Something's happened to your brother."

It wouldn't be the twins; Severus didn't think Weasley would show as much distress if they'd finally managed to blow themselves up. And it certainly wasn't the youngest, as he was off with Potter and his imminent death would undoubtedly herald the end of the war. The arrogant prick, as far as Severus knew, was still estranged from his family. Which left one.

"Charles."

Weasley snorted out a harsh breath and tightened his grip. "He was bit by a Peruvian Vipertooth, trying to save the blasted thing from a Death Eater raid."

"And in typical Gryffindor fashion," Severus's voice strained under Weasley's grip, "you'd like to reshuffle your moral sensibilities in order to find a way to save him."

"Something like that," Weasley said, loosening his grip, then letting go completely. "He's not going to die like this."

"Out of all the deaths in this war, why do you care about this one, aside from the obvious?" Severus raised a hand to his throat, loosening his collar and running his fingers along the tender skin.

Weasley's eyes followed the movement, then he lowered his gaze to the ground, and the sound of the slowly bubbling cauldron filled the silent gap between them as he shuffled his feet.

"Because Charlie's invincible," Weasley said finally. "And if I stop believing that…" He licked his lips, the thin sheen of saliva catching the candle light and making Severus's throat tighten. "That's the last thing I believe in."

It was oddly simplistic coming from the mouth of a man scarred so deeply body and soul, but it was spoken with conviction. Severus hadn't heard Weasley utter a single word with conviction since their arrival.

"Your brother is dying. You need anti-venom, not dark magic, unless you want to turn him into something like you."

"He says that it doesn't exist," Weasley said. "Don't you think I would have tried that? No one's ever successfully found the Vipertooth anti-venom."

Severus raised one eyebrow and thoughtfully rubbed the bridge of his nose for a moment, then he smirked. It wouldn't earn him a hero's return to the fold, but it could very possibly ensure his safe release from this nightmare.

"Perhaps this time would be better spent working on the cure than entertaining your ridiculous flights of dark fantasy," he said. "It doesn't sound as if he has much time left. I trust it's not beyond your means to gather a vial of your brother's infected blood?"

Weasley shook his hair away from his face and stared dumbly at Severus.

"I can do that," he said.

"Then go," Severus said with a sneer.



It took less than an hour for Weasley to return with the blood, and Severus had already begun the process of putting the anti-venom base together. He had only memory to rely on, and the limited ingredients the Order of the Phoenix had provided him. Severus's thin fingers tightened around the stirring rod when Weasley entered the room, but he didn't look up.

"I've got it," Weasley said.

"Bring it here." Severus set the rod to stirring on its own, then took the vial, casting a few precautionary charms before opening it.

"He's not conscious anymore," Weasley said.

Severus glanced up and raised an eyebrow. "Is that supposed to evoke my sympathy? It simply means he doesn't have to listen to the lot of you wringing your hands and fussing over him. It sounds like a stroke of luck, to me."

"Fuck you, Snape," Weasley growled, stalking closer.

Severus raised his head. "You need me now. You won't hurt me."

Severus watched as Weasley bared a flash of teeth before backing down.

"You don't know the first thing about my family," Weasley said. "About any family, I reckon. So why don't you just shut the hell up and do your job."

"I haven't had a job in well over a year," Severus shot back. For all of Weasley's taunting, the air in the room was remarkably calm, as if Weasley's helplessness over his brother's condition had diffused the threat he once posed. "But if you'd like me to continue working on the potions you're extorting from me, I suggest you take your own advice and refrain from flaunting your ignorance about my circumstances."

He turned back to the blood and the rolling bubbles surfacing in the cauldron. Lifting the vial, he poured in one drop and watched the contents shimmer silvery and transparent.

"Did it take off any limbs?" he asked.

"What? No," Weasley said. "Why?"

"The bite had to be deep. There's a great deal of venom in his blood."

"He was bit in two places: his shoulder and his leg. It was bad."

"I gathered that from your retching."

"Can you help him?"

Severus sighed. "Perhaps. I highly doubt we'll have access to all I need to create the anti-venom. Not before he dies at any rate." He dipped his stirring rod into the potion and raised it to the light, examining the translucent drop that swelled from the tip. Slowly, Weasley's face came into focus on the other side of the wand and Severus inhaled sharply. The drop splattered into the cauldron.

"What did you see?" Weasley asked.

Severus raised an eyebrow. "You," he said dryly. "I can hardly concentrate with you staring at me like that."

"Sorry," said Weasley. With an uncharacteristic swipe of his hand, he pushed his hair back from his face.

Severus caught himself staring for a moment—at the scars, at the unmasked fear in Weasley's eyes, at the defensive curl of Weasley's lip—and he quickly looked back down at the cauldron. "Give me some time alone," he said.

"Yeah. Of course," Weasley said. He took a few steps backward.

Severus looked up. "Your definition of alone leaves much to be desired, Weasley."

The half-wolf stared at Severus for a long moment while the air crackled with tension between them, then he turned and started for the door, and Severus watched the roll of his shoulders as he walked away.

"Bill," he said, the familiarity of Weasley's given name dancing comfortably on his tongue. Bill turned around. "I will not guarantee success."

"I don't expect you to," Bill said. The corner of his mouth quirked up. "But I know you want to stay alive, so you're going to do everything you can."

Severus gritted his teeth and turned back to his cauldron. "Perhaps I'd have the chance to make suitable progress if I actually had a warm body to work with," he muttered irritably. A few beats later, Bill slammed the door and was gone.


The potion was yielding minimal progress as the hours passed, but Severus delighted in the challenge of it. His mind felt sharp again. Even if Charlie Weasley was as good as dead. He'd never finish in time to save the man. When he finally sat back on his stool, Severus's hair clung to his forehead and jaw, the thick dampness squeezing out the air in the small laboratory.

Something rustled outside the door, and the sound of Bill grunting filtered in above the bubbling of potions and the crackling of flames. Severus opened the door and stepped out into the cool, breathable air of the sitting room.

Bill looked up over his shoulder with a protective snort. Charlie Weasley lay pale and greyish on the couch.

"You stole him from St. Mungo's?" Severus stared at Bill incredulously.

"You told me it would help," Bill said staunchly.

"I told you I… For fuck's sake, boy, I didn't mean that literally."

"He was dying there anyway. They couldn't do anything for him. You can do something. Give me one reason why I should have left him there. Just one."

"'s couch's bloody 'ncomfortable," Charlie murmured, grunting as he tried to roll onto his side.

"When did he wake up?" Severus asked.

"Three seconds ago," Bill said.

Severus frowned at Charlie. "Does anyone know you have him?"

"My dad."

"Our security rests in the hands of Arthur Weasley? We're both going to Azkaban."

"He trusts you to do this, Severus. Shut the hell up." Bill crossed his arms over his chest. "He'll cover for me."

"That's what I'm afraid of." Severus sneered and turned to the man on the couch. "I'm not a Healer, Bill," he said. "I can do nothing for his pain."

"S'alright," Charlie said. "Neither could anyone at St. Mungo's."

"I will ask for your input when it's relevant, Mr. Weasley," Severus snapped.

"Right." Charlie closed his eyes.

"He's better off here," said Bill.

"Oh, yes," Severus said, "between your charming disposition and my friendly bedside manner, this is practically a vacation for him. And now that the Aurors are likely breathing down our necks trying to find the man you just kidnapped, I should have no trouble at all focusing on a cure."

"I get a say in this?" Charlie mumbled from the couch.

"No," Bill and Severus said in unison.

"'kay." The word broke off into a low groan and Charlie turned his head away.

"Does it hurt a lot?" Bill asked, and for a fleeting moment, he sounded years younger. Charlie whimpered.

"Of course it hurts 'a lot'," Severus said. "The man was nearly eaten by one of the deadliest dragons alive. And now he's dying from it." He snorted bitterly. "And you expect me to make it right."

"I expect you to shut up and do the job you were brought here to do," Bill said. "And right now that's saving my brother's life. Make this better, Severus. Do it now."

Severus's upper lip twitched as he bit back the flood of acidic insults threatening to spill from his mouth. The more petulant and infuriating Bill became, the more uneasy Severus felt in the pit of his stomach. Weasley's pain was so loud, so raw with each spoken word, that Severus felt as though he were looking in a mirror. He wanted to grab the young man by the neck and shake him until he learned how to control it, how to smooth over the cracks where weakness leaked from the mask and replace them with steely defiance.

He wanted to school Bill Weasley, mind, body, and cock. And he wanted to pretend that last word hadn't crept into the corners of his consciousness at all. Suddenly, he turned away, taking long, sharp strides back to his laboratory. Bill was murmuring something to Charlie as Severus slammed the door behind him and cursed under his breath. Despite Bill's vile condition, part of him had remained unforgivably soft. Severus idly wondered if having to dispose of his brother's dead body would remedy that.




It wasn't until the laboratory door opened and Severus smelled the food that he realized he was dizzy with hunger. He turned to see Bill enter the room with a hot meal and a cup of tea.

"You'll need to eat something," Bill said.

Severus sniffed and turned back to his work. His stomach sounded off just then with a rattling growl.

"You should be tending to the needs of your dying brother."

"He's sleeping again," said Bill. "But I took care of him earlier."

"Did you feed him?"

"Yes."

"Did he keep it down?"

"No."

"He needs the care of a Healer." Severus raised his wand above the potion and wound his wrist in three counterclockwise circles.

"The Healers weren't doing shit for him," Bill said.

"Mmm."

"Eat something, Severus."

"Why? So I don't die before I've finished fixing your brother? I've already told you that I make no guarantees about this."

Bill pushed the plate toward Severus. "Just eat, all right? Take a break and eat."

The backs of Severus's knees began to tingle, and he sank back to the stool before he lost his footing. After a momentary glare at Bill, he reached for the plate. Bill watched in unnerving silence as he ate. When Severus had his fill, he pushed the plate back and picked up the teacup.

"Are you satisfied? You may leave now."

"Have you made any progress?" Bill asked, and he sat down on a stool of his own.

Severus sighed. "I'm making even less than moments ago, thank you."

"You'll come up with something. You're one of the best potion brewers alive."

"Where did you hear that nonsense?" Severus said. "Not that I'm debating its truthfulness."

"I've heard it's not easy to brew Wolfsbane. That's why they needed you to do it."

Severus stared blankly at Bill for a moment, then inhaled deeply as the mist of an idea took form in his mind.

"That's it," he murmured to himself, and he began swinging open cabinet doors, slamming them in quick succession as he searched, Bill's presence in the room forgotten.

"What is?" Bill said. "What are you making? Did you figure it out?"

"Shut up," Severus hissed. "You'll break my concentration."

Bill bounced on the balls of his feet, pushing his hair back from his face as his eyes bore into the back of Severus's head. Severus never once slowed down. Several times, he caught his finger on the edge of the knife, but he barely paused to suck the blood from the surface of his skin. Finally, after what seemed like forever, his cauldron began bubbling violently, and he allowed himself to exhale.

"In theory, it will work on the same premise as the Wolfsbane," Severus said, continuing to work with swift precision. "It's not a cure precisely, but a preventative. It won't entirely remove the venom from your brother's body, but it will diffuse its effects magically for some time."

"So he'll have to take it forever?"

Severus waited a moment before answering that. Unless something more was done, Charlie certainly didn't have 'forever' ahead of him.

"For as long as he manages to survive, yes."

Bill got to his feet and collected the plate and teacup. He raised his head slowly to look at Severus, only one eye visible through his hair.

"Thank you," he said quietly, and he left the room.

Severus stood over the steaming cauldron, counting ten full breaths before he turned to face the closed door.




"Open your eyes, Mr. Weasley," Severus said sourly, holding the potion in a vial over Charlie's head.

"Wake up, Charlie." Bill leaned in to shake Charlie by the shoulder.

Charlie's lips parted and he let out a soft gasp that Severus thought must have been a rather weak attempt at a cough. Something deep in Bill's chest rumbled menacingly and Severus gave him a sharp sideways glance.

"You're not going to scare the poison out of him," he said. "Open your mouth, Mr. Weasley."

Charlie's eyelids fluttered, his irises rolling back beneath them, and his mouth fell open just the slightest bit more.

"Shit," Bill murmured.

"Yes, well, I warned you that removing him from St. Mungo's was a bad idea."

"Yeah, after I did it."

Severus reached down and grabbed Charlie's mouth, jerking it open without a hint of concern for his condition.

"Watch it, Severus." Bill pressed his wand to Severus's back, the tip digging between his ribs to the point of making him squirm. He forced himself stone still and snorted softly.

"It would be a pity for him to die before we could test my idea," he said coldly. Then he flicked the cork out with the pad of his thumb and shoved the vial between Charlie's lips, emptying it into his throat, then clasping a hand over Charlie's mouth.

Charlie's body immediately rebelled, and Severus was glad for the man's weakened state, because even on death's door the muscle behind his movements was enough to jerk Severus off balance. He ground his palm against Charlie's lips until he stopped bucking, with Bill reaching down to pin Charlie's arms to the couch. Charlie gasped for short, shallow breaths through his nose and tremors shook his arms and legs.

"What'd you do to him?" Bill growled accusingly, and Severus swore he saw a flash of wolfish yellow in the other man's eyes that made his stomach turn. Bill was so close that Severus could almost feel his pulse.

"I gave him a possible remedy," Severus said, forcing his voice even. "And he is reacting to it. It should pass in a moment."

And in a moment, it did. Charlie lay as though he'd been sleeping passively without incident, and Severus swallowed despite his dry mouth. He slowly stepped away from the beckoning heat of Bill's body.

"If he wakes up in the next five hours, then my potion has done its job," he said.

Bill made no move to acknowledge the statement, still clutching Charlie's arms and watching for some sign that Severus was telling the truth. Severus left the room swiftly, telling himself that he didn't need to stay; he didn't, after all, care about Charlie Weasley's life. Or his death for that matter. It was simple apathy that drove him from the room, and certainly nothing to do with the way Bill's every breath crawled beneath Severus's skin and pulled at him.




"Charlie's awake."

The words drew Severus from uneasy sleep, and he wiped his moist cheek on the palm of his hand before sitting up at the table. His neck cracked, the muscles sore as he turned his head to look at Bill over his shoulder.

"Good for him."

"I thought you should know your potion worked."

"Mmm." Severus nodded.

"Do you want to see him?"

"Not particularly."

"He's talking."

"Bully."

"Severus—"

Severus held up his hand and slowly got to his feet. "You should return him to St. Mungo's immediately. If he's well enough, tell them that he left on his own accord. I'll give you the list of ingredients and instructions. Find a Healer you trust and a competent potion brewer and—"

"Not yet."

"What?" Severus's brow creased. "He can't stay here."

"Last time I checked, I was the one in charge of who stays here and who goes. Charlie's staying."

"Why?"

"Because he wants to keep working for the Order." Bill's voice took on its customary stiffness at the mention of the Order. "And he can't do that under observation. They think… They think Death Eaters took him out of the hospital."

Severus smirked and glanced slyly at his left arm. "And you didn't even have to lie, did you?"

"I thought you said you were innocent."

"Of murdering Albus Dumbledore, yes," Severus said.

Bill snorted. "Every time I think I find a shred of humanity in you, you prove me wrong."

"Then that makes two of us."

Bill stalked forward with all the stealth of a dark creature, and Severus pressed the soles of his feet into the ground, sneering as Bill came to stop nose to nose with him.

"You saved my brother's life, and for that I'm grateful, but it hardly makes up for your sins, Severus. I'm not a man you should try."

"You're not a man at all," Severus said. "Isn't that what you keep telling me?"

And there it was again, the hairline fracture slithering its way down the façade, a flicker of vulnerability visible beneath. Severus wanted to break him of it, to feel Bill crack beneath the incessant lashing of Severus's sharp tongue, and then to teach him how to keep it cloistered safely away. Before he had the chance to speak, though, he felt Bill's hesitation.

"Why don't you go ahead and hurt me then?" Severus said. Bill turned away. "It's practically all you've talked about since I arrived. Why don't you turn around now and make me the bloodied victim of a bastard half-wolf."

Bill's shoulders rose and fell beneath heavy breaths and he braced his hands on the counter.

"Don't want to hurt you," he murmured.

"Of course you do," Severus said, breathing against Bill's neck as his lips ghosted over Bill's hair. "Right now you'd love to tear me to pieces. I'm a Legilimens. I'm inside your head."

"You're lying. You wouldn't do that."

Severus smirked, his voice so low it was barely more than a vibration in his throat as his lower lip caressed the shell of Bill's ear. "You accuse me of lying so often, Bill. Do you honestly think we've redeemed one another during the days it took to find your brother's remedy? Do you think that I'm a good man now? Or that you are?"

"What are you trying to do here, Severus?" Bill said. He reached up behind himself with an unsteady hand to fist Severus's hair.

"You hate everything that touches you," Severus said. It would be so easy to do the very thing he was threatening right now, to slide into Bill's head, violate his memories, his thoughts, his fears. But he didn't need to, not when the man's raw emotion was splayed out for him so vulnerably. At the moment, Severus felt every bit the predator that Bill feared so much.

"You hate your brother," he continued, "for surviving. You want him dead so you can say you tried your best, but nothing could be done." He traced the path of one ragged scar down the side of Bill's face. "You want one person in this miserable world to be worse off than you, don't you?"

"I don't want Charlie dead," Bill whispered, and Severus felt the muscles in his shoulders relax as he realized that Severus hadn't entered his mind. "But you're right." He pressed back against Severus. "I don't need my brother to be worse off than me, though. You already are."

"If that's a fact," Severus said poisonously, "then why don't you put me out of my misery already?"

"Why are you pushing me?" Bill asked hoarsely. "What are you trying to get out of me, Severus?" He pulled Severus's hair back and twisted around to face him.

A frisson of heat slid up Severus's spine, and he stiffened, raising his chin defiantly in the face of Bill's temper.

"What do you think?" Severus said, his hand sliding over Bill's thigh to palm his crotch.

Bill's entire body went rigid, and Severus's nostrils flared in surprise to discover Bill was already rock hard.

"Why would you want that?" Bill asked, his fingers winding in Severus's hair, drawing sharp spikes of pain from Severus's scalp.

"Your anger is the noose around your own neck," Severus breathed, raising his chin and leaning in enough that his lips brushed Bill's cheek as he spoke. "I won't be hanged with it as well. It makes you indecisive and vulnerable. You need to learn to control it." He gave Bill's erection a brutal squeeze.

"And you think fucking you is going to help?" Bill said.

Severus didn't answer that, instead he pressed against Bill, hard, groaning as his aching cock found brief sanctuary against Bill's hip.

"Fuck," Bill whispered, and Severus felt a tremor run through him.

"Are you going to fight it?" Severus murmured.

Bill stiffened and rolled his hips, pushing his prick against the palm of Severus's hand with a grunt.

"Wouldn't give you the satisfaction."

"If you don't want it, I won't touch you," Severus said, withdrawing his hand.

"Does anything about this," Bill pressed his stiff cock against Severus's thigh, "make you think I don't want it?" His eyes narrowed and he jerked Severus's head forward, his lips so close that Severus could feel their heat radiating against his own.

And then, then, Bill was kissing him, hard and unkind, the sharp dig of teeth pressing into Severus's lip until he could taste blood. Bill growled as he struggled with one hand to release his cock, then Severus's, and Severus didn't protest, his heart pounding in his throat as his mind raced for a way to regain control.

Bill's hand was suddenly hot around Severus's prick. Severus jerked his hips, thrusting into Bill's fist as Bill rutted against his thigh. Soon, too soon—it had been too fucking long for him to hold out this time—Severus felt the tug in his balls and started to come. He grunted and pressed his lips together, spilling over Bill's hand as the other man pulled at his cock. Bill didn't let go, but took his own cock in hand, jerking it fast as Severus tried to catch his breath. A few moments later, the sticky heat of Bill's semen spread across Severus's thigh.

Bill pushed away with a growl, wiping his hands on his shirt, then closing his trousers.

"This changes nothing," he said, the waver of vulnerability in his voice giving Severus pause. "I'm still in charge here." He pushed away and made for the door.

"Are you so sure of that?" Severus called out after him, rising to the opportunity to reassert control.

Bill didn't answer, but he faltered for a step before storming out of the room.




Severus stood over Charlie Weasley, staring down his nose as the young man started to rouse himself from sleep.

"Christ. I've had nightmares that weren't as scary as waking up to see you standing over my bed," Charlie groaned.

"This isn't a bed, it's a couch."

"Yeah, well, s'good enough."

"Yes, I hear you've come to enjoy it a great deal. So much so, in fact, that you're planning to stay."

"So?" Charlie murmured. "What d'you care about it?"

"Exactly how do you intend to work for the Order in this state?" Severus crossed his arms over his chest.

"I haven't got there yet," Charlie said, grimacing as he fought off an involuntary yawn. "I'll think of something."

"And you don't think you'll be more of a hindrance than you've already been?"

"I haven't been a hindrance," Charlie said adamantly, though Severus had to wonder if the boy knew the meaning of the word. Charlie had a reckless streak that was eerily similar to Sirius Black, and Severus detested them both. "My job for the Order was important," Charlie finished.

"Mmm, and what a stellar performance you put in," Severus said, his upper lip curling. "I was especially impressed when Macnair returned to the Dark Lord's circle to report that you'd tried to convert him. How you're still alive is truly beyond me."

"Didn't know he was a Death Eater at the time," Charlie said. "And I kept him from killing me, didn't I? That was years ago, anyway. It's got nothing to do with what we're talking about."

"It has everything to do with your competence."

"I can handle myself," Charlie said. "The Order needs me."

"Oh, yes. Your intentions are clearly altruistic."

"Just shut up, Snape. I'm not taking advice on loyalty from you of all fucking people. Jesus."

Severus pressed his lips together. This Weasley child didn't know the first thing about loyalty, not the way Severus did. Charlie would never be asked to do what Severus had done. Razor-edged hatred began to coil deep in Severus's gut.

"Just what fate do you think will befall your brother if the Aurors discover this deception?" Severus said.

Charlie opened his mouth, exhaling slowly before closing it again. Severus smirked triumphantly.

"Just as I thought. Incapable of thinking things through, all of you."

"What are the chances they'll find out about this?" Charlie said. "Sirius escaped the—"

"Sirius Black was a fool and an imbecile and he deserved everything his idiocy brought down upon his head," Severus snarled.

Charlie looked at Severus strangely for a moment, then licked his lips. "But you wouldn't say about my brother," he said. "You don't want anything to happen to him, do you?"

Severus looked away. The implication that he cared what happened to Bill Weasley was ludicrous at best. The man was his warden, and a monster, despite what had passed between them in a moment of desperation.

"Your brother's unjust imprisonment of me is not something I find endearing, Mr. Weasley. I was appealing to your sense of righteousness. I'd see you both thrown to the wolves before I'd concern myself with your welfare." He paused thoughtfully. "Though I do believe it's too late for your brother, isn't it?"

Charlie's face went red and he struggled to sit up, failing after a hard few moments of effort, and falling back to the couch short of breath.

"Tsk, tsk. This is no way to convince me you're ready to face the outside world, you know."

Charlie winced and wrapped an arm around his middle. "You don't have any say in it."

"No," Severus said quietly. "More the pity."

Charlie looked up at the ceiling, breathing heavily through his nose. "M'not gonna let him down," he said. "Not gonna quit in front of Bill."

Severus snorted. "Is that what this ridiculous little show of bravado is all about? You believe your brother wants you out there to do the Order's bidding?"

"We signed up for this together," Charlie said. "I won't leave him to do it alone."

"Your powers of perception are as dull as they always were. Bill would rather see you run like a coward than end up in his position." He sneered disdainfully at Charlie. "Not that your current predicament is much better."

"How do you know that?"

"Have you ever listened to your brother speak? About the war? About the Order? If you're choosing to be a headstrong fool and sacrifice your own life, you're not doing it for him."

Charlie shifted on the couch, grimacing and looking down.

"And the pain is worse than you're letting on, isn't it?" Severus said. "You're doing him no favors by deceiving him."

"Yeah, and you'd know all about—" Charlie stopped speaking abruptly when Bill walked in the room.

"You're awake," Bill said, speaking to Charlie though his gaze fell warily on Severus.

"Yeah," Charlie said. "Been up for a few minutes now."

Severus smirked. "We were just discussing the astonishing wisdom behind Mr. Weasley's decision to stay here and risk his life once more for the Order of the Phoenix."

"That's none of your business, Severus," Bill said. "Charlie's made up his own mind."

"Has he really?" Severus said. "You're allowing a man who's spent the last few days on death's door to make a decision that he's clearly in no condition to make."

"I know my brother," Bill said staunchly. "He knows what he wants to do." There was an uncertainty in Bill's voice that led Severus to believe Bill had argued the point with Charlie at length.

"Then perhaps he is mistaken," Severus said, the words brittle. This was beyond insanity. Charlie didn't belong here, for more than one reason.

"That's up to him to decide, isn't it?"

"You say you're in charge here," said Severus, "then prove it. He needs medical attention."

"You fixed him, remember?"

"I gave him a temporary reprieve. He will die if he stays here."

"Fine," Charlie said unexpectedly.

"What?" Bill said. "No, Charlie. You don't have to go back there. We'll figure out how to—"

"No. Bill, he's right." Charlie smiled tiredly. "I'm still in a lot of fucking pain. I'm no good to anybody like this. I need a Healer."

Bill frowned. "You've never asked for a Healer in your life, Charlie."

"I know. S'that bad, Bill. I've gotta go back."

"So what now?" Bill said. "We tell them that the Death Eaters who took you just dropped you off with the recipe for a cure?"

"No." Charlie looked up at Severus, his jaw held square. "Need to make it more convincing than that."

Severus raised an eyebrow. "Yes. You do."

"What do you mean?" Bill looked from Severus to Charlie, though Severus was fairly certain he knew exactly what they meant.

Charlie didn't take his eyes from Severus as he addressed his brother. "He's got to do it," he said, nodding at Severus. "He's been one of them. He'll know how to make it look real."

"Charlie, that's insane!"

"In the interest of self-preservation," said Severus, "allow me to disagree. If your brother returns, and the Ministry or the Order—and I trust you were clever enough to keep this out of their hands—find any reason to doubt his story, we will be found and I'll be taken to stand trial for my 'crimes'. Whilst this might not affect you directly, you'd probably be wise to keep in mind just who is going to be brewing your brother's lifeline."

"You're telling me that you'll keep providing the potion for him?" Bill asked. "How do I know you intend to keep your word?"

"Does it matter?" Charlie said. "I'm pretty well fucked if he doesn't, but I don't think that potion on its own is gonna keep me going."

Severus snorted. "Apparently the near death experience has improved your intellectual capacity, Mr. Weasley."

"Shut up, Snape," Charlie said. "Trust me, Bill, yeah?"

Bill stepped between them then, weighing the decision as he glanced from one to the other.

"So you plan on hurting him?" he said to Severus. He raised one hand to his face, in a movement Severus was certain was unconscious, and traced one long, jagged scar from his temple to his jaw. "Like it was a Death Eater attack."

"That is the general idea," said Severus. "It would help if you provided us with information on the Order's movements. If he's found near a recent attack, there will be less reason for suspicion."

Something passed between Bill and Charlie then, something unspoken and desperate, and Severus could almost read their thoughts hanging there in the air without even trying. Finally, Bill stepped away from the couch and looked over at Severus.

"If anything happens to him, I'll kill you," he said. "I'll kill you and let you rot where you lie." He inhaled deeply and pushed his hair back from his face. "I'm going to find out if they know where the Death Eaters are expected next." He gave Charlie another look, then quickly left the room.

"He's not entirely convinced," said Severus.

"Yeah. Well. Neither am I," said Charlie, his voice starting to sound a bit hoarse. "But if it's the only way, it's the only way. No sense in dragging things out." He drew a labored breath. "But if you can't be trusted, and you're planning on killing me, you best not do it in front of Bill, yeah? Because if you do, you'll have to deal with me as a ghost for the rest of your life."

Severus smirked. "A more effective threat I've never heard," he said. "But I have no intention of going back on my word. Think of me what you will, Mr. Weasley. I plan to see to it that you owe me your life. That will be far more satisfying."

Then he left Charlie alone on that sorry excuse for a bed. He had to get started on the potion; extra doses would need to be left in a place Charlie could find them in case Severus and Bill didn't make it to safety in time.





"Are you sure this is—"

"Bill. I'm fine. It'll be fine." Charlie ran a hand through his hair, then leaned back on his elbows.

"I suggest you take to your hiding place before the others arrive," Severus said. Bill nodded, turning away from his brother as if it were physically painful and making his way to a shadowed corner.

After days of no luck in anticipating the Death Eaters' next move, Bill had decided to plant the information himself. He'd announced at an Order meeting that he'd stumbled upon Death Eater plans, and pointed to an abandoned house on the outskirts of Hogsmeade as a rendezvous point for two unnamed Death Eaters. They'd arrived only minutes before the Order was due, knowing that spending less time at the scene would likely leave fewer traces of their presence at all.

"I hear something," Bill said suddenly. "Not far from here. Voices on the wind."

His keen wolfish hearing was sharp enough that Severus could act on his cue, and he raised his wand.

"Crucio!"

At first, the only sound Charlie made was a smothered grunt, and Severus watched his face contort as he tried to withstand the pain. For a man in his state, he exhibited admirable tolerance, Severus thought.

The sound of a door flying off its hinges somewhere near the front of the house made Severus jump, and he called out again, "Crucio!"

Charlie's screams melted into a gurgling sound and as he rolled onto his stomach, a splattering of blood hit the floor. Severus heard Bill lunging from his hiding place and cut the curse short, turning around and throwing the whole of his body weight against Bill.

"They'll find him, you idiot. They're here," he hissed into the darkness, his face pressed into Bill's shoulder as Bill struggled against him.

"It was too much. You almost killed him!" Bill's voice rose to a note of hysteria, and Severus grabbed his throat.

"He's alive. He's safe. I suggest you get us out of here before I turn this wand on you."

The soft, whimpering sound from the back of Bill's throat vibrated against Severus's palm as he strained to see his brother beyond Severus's shoulder. Severus let go of Bill's throat, wrapped an arm around him, and quickly Disapparated them both before the anti-Apparition wards could be set.




"You need a glass of water," Severus said. "Sit down." The room seemed empty now, without Charlie to occupy the couch, though Severus had been waiting anxiously for him to leave.

"You were right," Bill said, quietly, walking into the kitchen. "I'm not saying the Order's wrong in all this, but, Christ, he doesn't need to martyr himself for them. Not like…"

After a moment's pause, Severus finished the sentence for him. "You did?"

"Yeah." Bill's voice was like the scuffing of heavy boots against gravel, and he turned away, hair falling away from his face and exposing his imperfect profile.

Severus filled the water glass from a pitcher on the table and held it out for Bill, then took his arm and guided him forcibly to the nearest chair.

"I daresay you and I prevented him from finding that fate tonight. By the time St. Mungo's releases him, Potter and his cohorts will either have killed the Dark Lord or will be dead. Either way, the war will be over. As long as no one finds out the potion keeping Charlie alive comes from you, they'll want to keep him for observation. He'll be a medical oddity: the man who should be dead but isn't."

Bill nodded and took a sip of the water. "Yeah, thanks."

Severus shrugged one shoulder and turned away, leaning over the sink and watching his shadow darken the drain. "His presence was more obnoxious than your own. It was my pleasure to rid this place of him."

He didn't hear Bill get to his feet, but a moment later there was a hand on Severus's back and he stiffened as Bill's voice spoke very near to his ear.

"And here I thought you just wanted to be alone with me," Bill said.

Severus sniffed indignantly. "Amusing."

Bill's thumb was running along the top of his collar then, raising the small hairs on the back of his neck, and Severus shivered.

"It wasn't a joke," Bill said. "It's written all over you."

Those nimble fingers slipped up into Severus's hair, and he tried to clear his throat, but couldn't force out a sound. He stiffened. He couldn't hand control over to Bill again.

"You even smell like sex," Bill said, inhaling deeply. "It's all you've been thinking about." His nose was pressed to Severus's hair now, and Severus could feel the grin spread across his face, feral and predatory. "You might be the Legilimens, Severus, but I'm almost a wolf. I have my ways of crawling inside your head, too."

Severus turned around, finding himself enclosed in Bill's embrace. There was no air in the space between them, just an empty vacuum, making it impossible to breathe. He met the ferocity in Bill's eyes with his own iron resolve, unwilling to relinquish any ground he held.

"Bend over the table." The words scratched at Severus's throat as he forced them out.

Bill pulled Severus closer for a moment, crushing the distance between them, then let go with a growl, turning around and bending over compliantly. Severus stepped forward, long, thin fingers curling around Bill's hips, and he drew a sharp, steady breath. If he'd been waiting for his penance, it wouldn't come today. This was indulgence of most gratuitous sort, and for once in his life, Severus was prepared to claim it.






Weeks passed, and Bill dutifully brought the potion to Charlie, waited for Severus to brew the Wolfsbane, and worked for the Order of the Phoenix. The storm that had accompanied his presence in the early weeks had lifted somewhat, or perhaps it was that the darkness had infected everything so thoroughly that Severus no longer noticed. Bill knelt on the couch in front of him, facing away, naked, head lowered. Severus smirked.

He slid his hand up Bill's back, his eyes drawn in a darting path from freckle to freckle over the play of rounded muscle, smooth plane, and ragged scar. Bill Weasley was the most gorgeous man Severus had ever touched. Bill hunched forward over the couch, his knuckles going white as he gripped the cushions.

"I won't make you beg," Severus murmured, lips hovering just behind Bill's ear. "Not tonight."

"God." Bill spread his legs compliantly.

Severus reached down, cool, slick lubricant wetting his palm, fingertips slipping between Bill's arse cheeks. Bill growled and pressed back, the lupine arch of his back making Severus shiver. He worked into Bill slowly, his deliberate control eliciting hisses and snarls, and Severus fisted one hand in Bill's long hair, pulling his head back. In the hard, grinding strokes that followed, Severus drove into Bill, consumed him, and once again slid just a bit further from the precipice of reason.

When it was over, and Bill lay draped in sweaty exhaustion beneath him, Severus pulled away, standing and dressing in silence. Bill followed the cue several moments later. Usually, they'd fall into silent resignation after sex, both of them contemplating what had just happened, but tonight Bill stood there in the midst of a pregnant pause, just watching.

Finally, Severus swallowed and finished buttoning his shirt. He took a few steps toward the door, but Bill didn't budge. He could leave now, without addressing the issue at all. He could walk away and push this aside until the next time. And the time after that. Stopping, he looked to Bill.

"Yes?"

"So what happens when this is all over?" Bill asked, and a small flare of heat rose deep in Severus's gut. He hardly remembered what hope felt like, but there it was, recognizable in spite of its long absence from his consciousness.

"You want to know how this ends?" Severus asked, and with a careless snort, he turned toward the door.

"Yeah," Bill said, his voice slightly hoarse. "Yeah, I do."

"Simple," said Severus. He glanced over his shoulder, smirking. "It doesn't." Then he walked out onto the porch in the open air, leaving Bill to make of that statement what he would.


~~~