Making Moves
-December 1, 1991-
“Tell me, Lucius, how has the Ministry been running since you took over?” Voldemort asked, keeping his eyes on the Malfoy patriarch, irritating the being hovering over him in the process. It did not take long for Voldemort to realize that Death enjoys the attention on him, so Voldemort going to a meeting right after their heart-to-heart yesterday was not something the being was okay with. Hence, Death was currently making funny faces at the Lord in front of him while he spoke.
“The Ministry has adapted wonderfully to my leadership,” Lucius said, an air of self-importance radiating off of him. Above him, Death stuck out his tongue. Voldemort’s eye twitched at the childish display and for the hundredth time, Voldemort wondered if his toddler was more mature than the immortal entity courting him. “I have solved the undersecretary problem as well.”
“Oh? How so?” Voldemort asked, leaning back against the plush chair he was sitting on, placing his hands on his desk.
“The woman before me, Umbridge, was quite disagreeable to the changes I’ve made,” Lucius explained. “So I had her fired and promoted the Weasley boy in her place. Good lad, he is. Has a good head on his shoulder, and is from a predominantly light family, expanding the diversity in the Ministry and giving me, and by extension you, better publicity.”
“Weasley? Isn’t his family known Order members?” Voldemort asked, raising an eyebrow.
“He is nothing like his family, My Lord,” Lucius said. “He has distanced himself from his family and their company in favor of his career. I have no doubt that he will go far.”
“Coming from you, I believe it,” Voldemort said with an impressed tone. “Last I heard, you despised the Weasley family.”
Lucius scowled, his emotionless face breaking as it was tugged down with wrinkles. “I do,” he relented. “They are the definition of scum, however, I cannot fault the boy for his parents, as he’s proved he’s nothing like them or the rest of the Weasley clan.”
Voldemort hummed. “Very well,” he said, waving his hand dismissively. “Keep me posted. And have someone watching the Weasley boy, at least for a little while. We can never be too careful.”
“Of course, My Lord.” Lucius said, bowing his head. Above him, Death sneered. When Death realized he had momentarily captured Voldemort’s attention, he smiled widely and floated closer.
“Do they always treat you this way?” he asked, snapping his head in the direction of Lucius’ still bowed head. “That’s a little kinky. Is it a power thing?”
Voldemort felt himself jolt in shock at the blunt question, having never expected to hear the words “kinky” and “power thing” from an immortal, ageless being. His eyes were wide with shock as he stared at the now giggling entity. His movement caused Lucius to lift his head to look at him in confusion, and Voldemort schooled his expression into a carefully indifferent mask.
Choosing not to dignify the being with a response, Voldemort turned his face to address Lucius. “Have you anything else to report to me?” he asked, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his desk.
“Nothing, My Lord,” Lucius said, before he paused and frowned. “However there is something strange. I suppose I should report it to you so that you are aware.”
“Well? Don’t waste my time, Lucius.” Voldemort said curtly. Lucius nodded.
“When I dismissed Umbridge,” he said, his eyes dark. “She threatened me. She claimed that she would get her revenge and I would never see it coming. I didn’t pay much to it, however, I have been keeping an eye on her.”
“Being threatened by toads now, Lucius?” Voldemort asked with an amused grin. He expects Death to be laughing at the information, but when he glances at the being, he is surprised to see a grim expression on his face, his glowing green eyes narrowed dangerously at the Malfoy patriarch.
“It was probably just the angry words of a woman scorned,” Lucius said with a chuckle. “Forgive me for wasting your time, My Lord.”
Voldemort just waved his hand once more. “Thank you for your report Lucius, you may go,” Voldemort said, and he watched as the lord stood, bowed once more, and walked out of the room. As soon as the door clicked shut, he turned to face the entity in the corner. “Care to explain what that was?” he asked.
“What what was, my Darling?” Death asked, moving closer with an innocent expression on his face. Voldemort merely raised an eyebrow, his expression clearly stating that he wasn’t buying it.
“One moment you’re sticking your tongue out at Lucius---which, by the way, is something my four-year-old would do---and the next you’re looking at him like he ran over your puppy,” Voldemort said, standing up so that he was directly level with the being’s eyes. “Care to explain what happened?”
“Why would he run over a puppy?” Death asked, completely ignoring Voldemort’s question. “Is that something mortals do?”
“You are missing the point,” Voldemort pointed out, sticking a single finger at him. “Trying to avoid my question only makes me want to know the answer more.”
“It truly is nothing, my Dear,” Death said, tilting his head to the side. “I was merely thinking, I assure you.”
“Thinking about what?”
Death stepped closer, the finger that Voldemort had been pointing now resting on his chest, and leaned down so that his nose was just a hair’s breadth away from his own. Voldemort refused to allow his face to flush at the closeness and maintained his scowl. When Death spoke, his breath tickled Voldemort’s cheeks. “Have you given any more thought to our relationship?” he asked.
Voldemort froze his breath stuttering in his chest at the question. “What does that have to do with anything?” he demanded, pushing away from the being. "And haven’t we talked about personal space?”
“You asked me what I was thinking about,” Death said, a hint of a smirk pulling at the corners of his mouth. “I was simply answering the question.”
“Thinking about our relationship made you look like that?” Voldemort asked, crossing his arms as he pulled away from the being completely. “I’m not buying it.”
“What’s there to buy? It’s the truth,” Death said with a shrug. “Why don’t you answer my question now that I’ve answered yours?”
“This is clearly a ploy to distract me from my question,” Voldemort snapped. “Don’t think I’ll fall for it that easily. Now, are you going to truly answer my question?”
“If you answer mine.”
Voldemort let out a frustrated huff and glared at the smirking entity. Seriously, what was his problem? Why was he asking this? It had only been a day since Death announced his intentions to court him for real. Voldemort hadn’t had the time to think about it, as he was too busy running a country. He dragged his hand through his hair as he narrowed his eyes at Death. “Not really,” he admitted softly, averting his gaze when Death’s smirk deepened. “I’ve been distracted.”
“Care for some assistance?” Death asked, stepping forward. Voldemort side-stepped the being as he raised an eyebrow at him.
“Assistance? With what, exactly?”
“An experiment, if you will,” Death said, and Voldemort felt the hair on the back of his neck stand on end. “To help you with your decision.”
“An experiment?” Voldemort deadpanned, and Death grinned broadly at Voldemort’s dry tone. “What is it?”
Death moved too quickly for Voldemort to catch it, one second he was a few feet away from Voldemort and the next he was standing directly in front of him, caging him against the wall. Voldemort felt his breath hitch in the back of his throat at the predatory expression on Death’s face. He was wearing the same body as yesterday, and his green eyes seemed to bore holes into Voldemort’s. He could feel the air spike with tension.
Slowly, torturously slow, Death leaned forward to connect their lips. Voldemort’s eyes widened at the sensation of Death’s lips against his own, and unbidden, he let out a surprised gasp. Death smirked and stepped even closer, his leg parting Voldemort’s. The first kiss was chaste and sweet, and he pulled back after a few seconds, his gaze meeting Voldemort’s questioningly.
“This is… an interesting experiment,” Voldemort said, his eyes darting between Death’s dark gaze and his lips. “But I’m not really convinced---”
Death pulled Voldemort’s face up and met his lips once more, but this time it was different. This was nothing like the kind and gentle kiss before, this kiss was powerful and possessive. Voldemort could feel his stomach stirring with lust and he pressed forward, his hands reaching up to hook around Death’s neck, tugging him closer.
Voldemort could feel Death’s grin against his lips and he nipped harshly in punishment. He smirked at the gasp that Death let out, but was quickly overtaken by Death’s passionate response. Death pressed closer to him, and all Voldemort could feel was the sharp contrast between Death’s corpse-cold lips and the heat of his own. His nerves were alight with sensations, and he could feel the gooseflesh on his arms raise.
Voldemort let out a surprised moan when Death bit down harshly on his lip, and he used the opportunity to slip his tongue inside. Oh. Oh. This was better than before. Voldemort melted against the wall as Death brushed against the back of his teeth and top of his mouth. Death’s chuckle vibrated inside Voldemort’s mouth, and it was enough to snap the man into action.
He quickly spun the two around, slamming Death against the wall as he fought for control. Death’s surprised gasp was used against him as Voldemort began to return the favor. Death’s hand trailed up the back of Voldemort’s neck, sending shivers down his spine, as it made its way into Voldemort’s hair. Death grabbed a fistful of Voldemort’s hair and tugged, separating their mouths with a harsh gasp.
Voldemort felt unbearably hot, his face flushed as he stared at an equally debauched Death. A thin strand of saliva connected their lips and Voldemort brought up his hand to break it, sucking his finger into his mouth, watching with glee as Death shivered.
“I certainly was not expecting that.” Voldemort said, his voice hoarse.
“In a good way or a bad way?” Death asked, pulling Voldemort closer to him with the grip he held on his hair. Voldemort let his forehead rest against Death’s as their breaths mingled.
“I’m not sure,” Voldemort mused. “I suppose I’ll have to think about it.”
Death narrowed his eyes. “Think about it?”
“Yes, I have another meeting in an hour,” Voldemort said with a smirk. He didn’t actually, but it was amusing to watch Death’s face clench with irritation. Voldemort pulled away from Death’s grip, turning around to walk away. “I’ll talk to you later then?”
He made it all of three steps before a hand reached out to tug him back, Death spinning Voldemort around so that he could press a harsh kiss against his lips. Voldemort grabbed the back of Death’s neck and tugged him closer, the other hand reaching up to fist the being’s shirt. Death nipped at Voldemort’s lips once, twice, three times before he pulled away, tilting Voldemort’s chin up so that he could suck on the skin directly underneath his Adam's apple.
Voldemort’s grip on Death’s shoulder tightened as he let out a harsh gasp, only to shiver when Death pulled back to blow air against the wet spot on his neck. “Cancel it,” Death said, looking up at Voldemort’s lidded eyes with a deadly smirk. “I think we should continue our experiment.”
Voldemort smirked. “I suppose I could move some stuff around.”
Severus grumbles as he marches through the halls of the Dark Lord’s castle, a scowl set deep into his face. Of course, he has to find those pair of idiots and tell them they have to go undercover. Despite having returned to the Order’s HQ and receiving information several times, Severus knew that they’d never directly manipulated Dumbledore into getting the information they needed.
They’d have to be subtle and cunning, not letting Dumbledore---a master manipulator---become aware of their true intentions. It would take skill, precise focus, and patience of steel to do such a thing.
Severus froze in place. “Oh god they’re never going to do it,” he groaned, covering his face in his hands. “They’re dead. I’m dead. We’re all dead.”
He sighed and began to walk again, looking through each of the rooms he came across, searching for the two imbeciles that were going to get him killed. He would’ve thought they’d be in the common room or training room, as that was where Severus saw them the most, but he’d already checked both of those spots with no sign of them.
This was starting to get tedious, and if Severus had to waste the rest of his day searching for those buffoons, he was going to start throwing curses. Honestly, it was just his luck he’d be placed in charge of the couple. Severus knew the Dark Lord was fully aware of his hatred for the pair, and he was known for his cruelty.
Still…
“I never thought he could be this cruel.” Severus muttered, closing the door of yet another empty room.
Just as he was prepared to call a quits, he heard two familiar voices arguing in the room down the hall. Severus scoffed when he realized it was the only room he hadn’t checked yet, and rolled his eyes as he marched down the hall. As soon as he got in there he was going to give those idiots a piece of his mind for making him walk all over the castle like a bloody idiot.
“Are you attracted to Severus too?”
Severus froze in place, his eyes widening as he stared at the half-closed door in front of him. What the hell…? He crept closer, making sure to keep out of sight as he stood against the wall, listening in.
“I always thought he was beautiful,” a voice that sounded exactly like Lupin said. Severus couldn’t breathe. “But then you and James were targeting him, and then you and I got together and I never really thought about it.”
“You don’t think Cissy was right, do you?” Black said, a horrified gasp escaping him. “Do you think we were just like kids pulling a little girl’s pigtails for attention because they… they….”
Severus frowned at the euphemism, and suddenly, he wanted to be far, far away from where he currently was. He could hear Lupin let out a chuckle as well as the sound of robes rustling, and Severus figured Lupin was giving Black a hug.
“Probably,” he said, and Severus wanted to smack the werewolf across the face. “It was pretty childish. And you were always making a big deal about him.”
“W-What? No, I didn’t!” Black exclaimed. Lupin just chuckled again.
“‘Oh look at Snivellus, that robe is too tight on him! I wonder if he does it on purpose?’ and ‘Snivellus is talking to Lily again, he’s obsessed with her!’” Lupin said, mimicking Black’s voice. Black spluttered and Severus could feel the heat rushing up to his cheeks. “‘Why isn’t Snivellus looking at me? I just won the Quidditch match, does he think he’s better than me?’”
“I do not sound like that!” Black cried indignantly. “And you’re taking all of that out of context!”
“Am I?” Lupin asked. “All I’m saying is, you have been attracted to Severus for quite some time, you just never noticed.”
“And you did?”
“Of course I did!” Lupin said, and Severus bit his lip as he recalled all the instances where Lupin would give him that look after Black did something back in school. He never understood what that look meant, but looking back now, he could clearly remember the frustration in his eyes. He always assumed it was regular frustration.
---Lupin removed his hand from around Black’s waist and beckoned him forward. Severus watched as his other hand trailed the length of Black’s back, moving lower until it cupped Black’s bottom in an overtly sexual suggestion---
Severus felt his eyes widen and his breath hitched in the back of his throat, and he instantly slapped his hand over his mouth, praying that the pair didn’t hear him.
“How’s that” Black asked, and a small part of Severus sagged with relief as they continued their conversation. “Are you saying I’m stupid?”
“I’m saying you’re dumb when it comes to your own feelings,” Lupin replied dryly. “How long did it take for you to confess to me?”
“That’s different! You were my friend! Snape was…” Black trailed off, and Severus leaned forward slightly, cursing himself for his eagerness to hear what Black had to say next.
“Snape was…?”
Severus stepped even closer, pressing close enough that his ear was inches away from the door.
“He was just… He was just Snape! He was out of my league!” Black snapped. “He was in Slytherin and clearly in love with James’ girl---”
“Which made you jealous and lash out.” Lupin added.
“And the only time he gave me the time of day was when I was throwing his books out the window and pranking him with a new spell I learned!” Black huffed. “I guess that probably wasn’t the best way to get his attention.”
“You guess?” Lupin asked. “You guess it wasn’t the best way to get his attention. Sirius, Severus hates us for the way we treated him!”
“Yeah, and now it’s too late to try for a relationship with him, I get it!”
Severus could feel his heart stutter in his chest, his eyes widening dramatically as he stared at the door, wishing that he could see their faces as they spoke about this.
“Try for a relationship with him?” Lupin asked, and Severus clenched his hands by his side. What were they even talking about? He thought, refusing to acknowledge the slight bitterness he felt. They were already in a relationship, what did they want him for? “Is that what you want?”
“Clearly, I don’t know what I want!” Black cried. “Maybe! Yes? No! I don’t know! I didn't even know I liked him that way until last week!”
“God, you really are hopeless, aren’t you?” Lupin asked, and his voice was so unbearably fond. “What am I going to do with you?”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Black demanded.
“We’ll tell Severus how we feel after we’ve received his forgiveness,” Lupin said, ignoring Black’s previous question. “If he’s not interested, we settle for friendship like we should have done when we were in Hogwarts.”
“That sounds fair,” Black said. “How do we get his forgiveness?”
“We have to earn it---”
Severus ripped himself away from the door, his face flushed impossibly red as he quickly stepped away. How ridiculous. None of this could be true, could it? Black and Lupin… in love with----attracted to him? What fantasy world did he step into?
There was no way Severus was going to deal with this mess when he had a much more pressing one to deal with first. He made sure that he was far away enough down the hall that it would seem like he just arrived, and made sure to step loudly.
“Black! Lupin! Where the bloody hell are you? I’ve been looking for you for almost an hour! You have a new mission!” Severus called, and he watched as said men stepped out of the room at the end of the hall and walked towards him.
“Hey Severus,” Lupin said, waving at him kindly. Severus forced himself not to react at the friendly gesture. “You have a mission for us?”
“What’s the mission?” Black asked, crossing his arms over his chest as his eyes did a once-over of Severus. He instantly realized that his face was still flushed from embarrassment at hearing the couple speak. Severus schooled his expression and looked up coldly at the man.
“You’re going undercover,” he said curtly. “So you’re going to have to learn how to act.”
Hopefully he could take his own advice.