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Story Notes:

Pairing: Snape/Lupin, Snape/Lupin/Harry
Warning: Spoilers for DH. Threesome. Porn. May defy the physics of pensieve memories.
Disclaimer: All characters in this fic are over the age of 18. So nyah. :-P

Originally posted: August 9, 2007

Alternate Links: LJ | GJ | IJ | JF | Skyehawke | The Quidditch Pitch

Harry closed the door behind Ron and Hermione and leaned back against it. He was flattered that they were so concerned about him, really, but he disliked the hovering.

You should get out more, Harry!

Why won't you tell us what happened with Ginny?

It's not healthy for you to coop yourself up in this house all the time.

Probably not, but he couldn't be arsed -- not now, anyway. He'd had a hell of a year, and he deserved a little quiet time, a few months to himself to do nothing if he damn well pleased.

He headed back down the narrow corridor to the kitchen, asked Kreacher for a cup of tea, and then carried the steaming cup up to the library. He lit the old oil lamps with a flick of his wand, closed that door behind him as well, and crossed to the desk. He set the cup and saucer on its freshly-dusted surface, next to the shallow stone basin that he'd recently acquired from the Headmaster's office at Hogwarts. McGonagall had hardly been in a position to refuse him when he'd asked, and though she'd not been entirely pleased, he'd bottled up the memories it contained and whisked the basin away before she could think of a reason to refuse him.

He'd merely wanted to have Snape's memories again, the ones Snape had bequeathed him with his dying breath. He'd wanted to watch them over and over, to see his young parents' faces, to get to know the troubled young boy who would become the Death Eater Severus Snape.

Of course, it hadn't occurred to him at the time that Snape might have left other memories in the basin before he fled Hogwarts -- ones he hadn't meant Harry to see.

He took a single swig of his tea and then placed his hands on both sides of the basin, concentrating on a particular memory he wanted to find. There were so many, but he had his favorites -- and tonight he knew just the one he wanted.

He plunged his face into the swirling liquid and felt himself falling, twisting, and finally landing on a dusty floor in this very house. He stood and looked around. Any minute now.

The door opened and Severus Snape burst through it, snarling. He closed the door behind him and pointed his wand at the lock, but not quickly enough -- it opened again, and Remus Lupin stormed through, looking just as angry as Snape did.

"Don't you dare walk away from me!"

"I'll do as I wish, Lupin." The last word was drawn out as if Snape liked the way it felt wrapped around his tongue. "This isn't your house."

"It's not yours either." Lupin closed the door behind him and took several steps forward. "It belongs to Harry now and--"

"Must you always bring Potter into these discussions? Could you possibly manage to go ten minutes without waxing poetic about--"

"This has nothing to do with Harry, so stop changing the subject." Lupin's eyes were fierce.

Snape turned away. "If you're here to tell me about your dalliances with the auror Tonks, you're a bit late. It's quite obvious."

Lupin frowned at that. "It's not like that at all."

"Don't insult my intelligence."

"That's hardly a challenge," Lupin replied, smirking. He took another step forward, and Snape turned to look at him.

"What are you doing?"

"Nothing." Another step. "Interesting choice of rooms, this."

Snape looked around at the newspaper clippings and photos spelled onto the walls. "Is it?"

Lupin took two more steps forward and was standing toe-to-toe with Snape now. "This was Sirius's bedroom. Didn't you know?"

Snape scowled, but didn't look away. "I suppose you find that ironic."

"He wouldn't. But he's dead, and it doesn't really matter now, does it?" Before Snape could answer, one of Lupin's hands slid around the back of Snape's neck and pulled him in for a rough kiss.

The first time Harry had seen this, he'd nearly fallen over from surprise. His immediate reaction had been one of disgust, though after a few moments he'd realized it hadn't been disgust at what Lupin and Snape were doing. It had been a sort of disgust that Snape had kissed anyone -- ever.

But after repeated viewings, he felt quite differently. He edged his way around the scene now to a spot that gave him a better view. Kissing in Muggle movies always seemed so romantic and delicate, but watching real people kiss was a bit more messy. Lupin's and Snape's mouths were open wide and pressed together roughly, something that reminded him a bit of the way Ron and Lavender had tried to eat each other's faces back in sixth year. Of course, he'd found that disgusting to watch. But this? This was different.

"I despise you," Snape said, his voice a rough whisper.

"No you don't." Lupin's hand disappeared into Snape's robes. "At least, you don't despise this."

Snape made a very un-Snape-like sound at that and dove in to kiss Lupin again, hands tearing at his shabby robes. Lupin's hand stayed solidly between Snape's thighs as he began backing him toward the bed. They hit it and fell over, their hands too busy pulling at each other's clothing to brace themselves. Robes and trousers were shrugged off and landed on the floor, and then Lupin was pressing Snape down into the dusty bed cover, one hand still between them.

Harry unfastened the fly of his jeans, which had started to grow tight the moment Snape had moaned, and climbed onto the bed beside them. He pulled out his own erection and stroked it to hardness, leaning back against a corner post of the bed. Lupin rolled to the side, giving Harry a clear view of their two hard pricks.

Lupin still had Snape's cock in hand and was stroking it slowly. Snape was staring back up at him with blazing eyes, as if daring him to do what Harry knew came next. With a wicked grin, Lupin reversed his position on the bed, leaned forward, and swallowed Snape's cock whole.

Harry moaned at the sight of it and stroked himself a little harder, trying to imagine what having a mouth on his prick might feel like. He was sure Ginny would have done it, but every time he'd kissed her in the last few months, all he could think about were the memories of Snape and Lupin. He didn't know what it meant -- if he was gay, or if he was just a voyeur -- but he wanted to figure it out first, before he could hurt anyone again. He just wasn't quite sure how to go about it.

For now, this was enough -- Lupin's head bobbing up and down on Snape's stiff prick, revealing wet skin and a tongue swirling around the head before Lupin's nose was pressed into the dark hair at the base again, over and over. Snape's long fingers were curled around Lupin's prick as well, but it seemed he couldn't concentrate on stroking properly at the moment.

Harry was getting too close now, and he slowed down his strokes. The best part was yet to come.

Snape released Lupin's prick and pressed one hand against the back of Lupin's head, fingers gripping his hair tightly. He didn't make a sound as he came; his mouth fell open and he grimaced, and his body seemed to tense. Lupin didn't stop moving until it seemed to be over, and even then kept sucking Snape's cock until he was pushed away.

He grinned and wiped his mouth as he sat up, and without saying a word, slipped off the bed to fish through his robes. He reappeared with his wand in hand and siphoned a glittering substance from the tip, raising an eyebrow at Snape.

Snape slid down to the edge of the mattress without being asked, and lifted his legs over Lupin's shoulders. Lupin's hand disappeared for a moment behind Snape's arse, and then reappeared, stroking his own cock.

Harry shrugged off his jeans and pants, keeping his eyes fixed on Lupin's hand as it guided his prick below Snape's balls and out of sight. Snape hissed as Lupin pressed into him, his eyes clenched, and Lupin pressed a kiss to the ankle on his shoulder, a determined look on his scarred face. After a minute had passed, he seemed to be all the way in, and Snape relaxed visibly.

Harry tried to imagine what it felt like. He'd put his own fingers up his arse and he'd liked it, especially stroking in and out, but he wondered how much a big cock like Lupin's would hurt. He knew from other memories that Snape and Lupin had done this before, quite often -- and Snape seemed uncomfortable every time, at least until--

Lupin started to move; his face twisted into an expression of pure pleasure. Snape groaned beneath him, and the sound seemed to go right to Harry's balls. He spat into his hand and stroked himself again, watching Lupin fuck Snape slowly just a foot away from him.

He wasn't sure what made him do it, but it suddenly seemed like a good idea. Harry crawled forward, straddling Snape's face, and let his cock fall into Snape's open mouth.

He didn't feel anything, of course -- it was just a memory, after all, and he wasn't really there -- but when he looked down, he could pretend Snape was sucking him off. He continued stroking himself with wet fingers, imagining with all his might that it was Snape's warm mouth and tongue moving over the sensitive skin of his prick. He looked up to see Lupin just inches away, his eyes closed in concentration, his mouth opened just a little. Harry could see the tip of his tongue dart in and out of his mouth, wetting his lips.

Harry leaned forward and pressed his lips to the spot where Lupin's would be. He could see Lupin's face, very close, sweat dripping down his forehead, and he could almost imagine that he felt Lupin's mouth against his, hot tongue sliding against his own. He kept stroking his own prick, occasionally looking down to make sure it was still in the right place.

"Faster," Snape panted, startling Harry out of his fantasy for a moment. He stroked harder, in time with Lupin's thrusts, and heard Lupin groan in a way that he knew from these memories meant he was very close. The angle was awkward, but the view was unbelievable, and Harry felt his climax building. His forehead was effectively pressed against Lupin's shoulder now, and he tried to hang on -- just a bit longer.

And then he heard Lupin cry out, saw him shudder against Snape, and Harry let go. He tried to look down, wanted to see himself coming into Snape's mouth, but it was all he could do to stay on his knees. His orgasm shuddered through him, and he rolled to the side, squeezing his cock hard and gritting his teeth, feeling a strange urge to stifle his own cries of pleasure.

A moment later, Snape and Lupin were getting dressed, and not speaking. Harry fumbled for his jeans and managed to pull them back on, only belatedly remembering his pants. He stuffed them in a pocket, and then looked up to see Lupin and Snape kissing, far less violently this time.

"I'll try to be back in two weeks," Lupin said, buttoning the shirt Snape had pulled back on.

"I can't make any promises." Snape's voice was distant, but the expression on his face was not.

"I know." Lupin smiled, kissed him lightly, and then left the room, closing the door behind him. Snape stood and stared at the spot where Lupin had disappeared.

The memory faded, and Harry found himself thrown back into the chair at his desk. He reached for his tea, but it had gone cold. He tapped it with his wand and it steamed again, but he didn't drink it.

He trailed his fingers over his own lips and smiled.