Remus awoke to the sound of thunder. He turned expecting to see the bed beside him occupied but the bed was gone, and so was its occupant. He frowned, wondering if yesterday was a dream. He looked around and noticed the bed had been transformed back into the green sofa, now propped nearby a coffee table. He searched for those long black curls and dark brown eyes and found her standing by the tent entrance, peeking out from the flaps. He got off the bed to join her, huskily greeting her.
"We need to go," she said, not looking up at him, still fixated on whatever it was she was looking at outside. "We have to move now, Remus. I usually don't stay long in one place, and it has been four days now. I didn't want to apparate us when you were healing because I was afraid you'd splinch. But we need to go now."
"I will help pack up," He said, running his hand through his ruffled hair. Both of them gathered their wands and pointed them at various objects, shrinking and folding them all into a small black backpack that sat in the center of the tent. The objects moved around as though they were carried by invisible hands and all disappeared into the backpack until they were left standing in an empty tent.
"Right, it's a really bad storm out there so we need to move quick once we pack up the tent. Stay close to me," Her tone was heavy with worry and he did not question it although the concern appeared in his face. The tent was finally packed, and they stood in the rain, hands holding onto one another. She pulled him into an embrace, gripping his shoulder hard as though in fear of being pulled apart. "Hold onto me," She whispered to him, both feeling the hard drops of rain on their face. When the second thunder rumbled, they were both gone.
o
He took in his surrounding when they appeared before a porch with large oak doors. There were no other houses around the area, only a vast field. She nodded at him, asking him to keep a look out. She inhaled sharply, and although he never heard her mutter any spells, he heard the door unlock and she dragged him through them with her, closing them back again with her wand.
"I just need to grab a few things before we go again. We're running low on supplies. Poppy, I'm home," She said, and in the large house her voice echoed off the walls. A familiar house elf appeared in an instant, bowing down to her mistress. Lucille passed her a list of items she needed, and Poppy excitedly scurried away to collect them.
Remus walked around the large living room, observing the many paintings on the walls and heavy velvet curtains that were drawn. He could tell the house could only belong to a wealthy family and he wondered how she had gone from having a house which probably had over 30 rooms to constantly living in a tent and always on the move.
"We can't stay here. I've thought about it before, but the risk is too much for us. I only come back to fuel up supplies, which I really shouldn't be doing often but you need to heal, and we haven't got much," She explained with such an anxiousness and scanned around the living room expecting someone to appear.
"Why are you on the move, Lucille?" She sighed, uncomfortable that she had to explain herself to him. She never liked having to explain herself of her secrets and so she told him only bits and pieces of what she felt would be enough for him to understand. "Death Eaters are trying to recruit me, and some other people. I want no part in this war. I'm a healer, and I value my solitude. But it's the Death Eaters I'm trying to avoid. They're very persistent, you see. It's quite annoying, really. I've been on the move for a month until I came across you. Poppy says they drop by here sometimes, to see if I'm back."
She crossed her arms across her chest, gripping on her wand tightly. She didn't like being too long in the house, and Poppy was taking longer than usual that it made her uneasy. Moony stirred in Remus. The wolf had heard a sound like soft footsteps from the second floor. He walked towards the stairs, hand steady with his wand. "Remus, wha-" He shushed her with a finger on his lips, eyes darting towards the stairs. She looked around them, sweat forming on her forehead.
The footsteps were louder now, and they became noisier, like the sound of someone sprinting. Remus shot red sparks from his wand as he heard the noise come closer to where they stood. A green light missed him by inches from the stairs. Lucille casted a spell that froze the stairs with slippery ice. The source of the unforgivable curse fell and slipped down the stairs. A figure with white blonde hair landed smack on the floor. "Draco!" A woman's voice shouted as she too slipped beside the fallen figure.
Lucille felt her breath hitch. Remus was pointing his wand at their attackers and she grabbed his hand, fleeing with him. He turned around to stun them, but she had charmed a defensive silver bubble around them that blocked his spells and their attacker's. The woman chased after them, attempting to burst the bubble. Remus felt himself as though forced through a rubber tube as they apparated again.
o
They were now at a flat. The passing train outside made the cabinets rattle and by the fireplace Poppy appeared, handing Lucille the items she requested. Lucille pulled her into a tight embrace. The house elf was so small it looked like she was holding a child. "Did they hurt you?" She asked, checking her tiny arms and legs.
"No Miss, Poppy is sorry! Poppy was out at the nursery looking for the things Miss asked for, but the nursery was destroyed, Miss! Poppy had to go look elsewhere for them and when she returned Poppy couldn't find Miss and Mister. Poppy only saw the Malfoys and so Poppy went to hide at Mister Rotheremere's house!" She squealed, eyes teary feeling that she had failed her mistress.
Lucille smiled and wiped away her tears with her hands. "It's sad to know the nursery is destroyed. Mother grew all her love there – the plants, the herbs, our potions. But you've done well, Poppy. You've done what I asked, and I am glad you're alright. Here, Poppy, take this. This will calm your nerves," She handed a small vial containing a purple liquid in it to the house elf who took it from her with trembling hands. "Go to uncle now and be safe." She kissed her forehead, smiling at the disappearing elf.
Remus had never seen a witch or wizard showing that much affection for their house elf before. It was strange, to see her in such a manner. If she was like this with a house elf, what would she be like with a werewolf?He wondered. He felt Moony stir, hungry with curiosity. The only people who were ever kind to him despite knowing his condition were his friends. It has been years since he felt the warmth and tenderness of a woman's touch, and to see her in such loving light for a creature deemed beneath them in the wizarding world, Moony was beginning to grow fonder of her. He swallowed, trying to push away the thoughts of her from his mind.
"Remus, did you hear me?" She called out to him, alerting him that he had lingered too long on his own thoughts. His eyes snapped back at her, confused. "Remus, I said that this flat is heavily warded and in a muggle area. We can do magic here, but it is best kept at very minimal levels in case someone tracks us."
She moved to the kitchen with him behind her. "How long can we stay here?" He asked, inspecting the space. There was a fridge, with a kitchen stove and the flat looked completely furnished in such muggle taste with everyday objects. She filled a kettle with water, bringing it to the stove to boil.
"We're lucky this time. My uncle has arranged for us to stay here for at least 2 weeks or more, if we can keep our profiles low. The Death Eaters are not aware of this place – yet" She sighed, eyes transfixed on the flames under the kettle. He could see she was tired and wondered how long she had been on the run for. They were quiet for minutes, him looking at her as she gazed into the flames, captivated by them and buried under her thoughts. The dark circles were pronounced under her eyes, Remus wanted nothing more to hold her, to soothe her as how she had done to Poppy earlier. She rubbed the back of her neck, stretching it. "You still have some healing to do. Go shower, and we'll start," she rummaged through the black backpack she carried, summoning vials and bottles that jumped out of the bag onto the dining table.
There was only one room in the flat, which had a king size bed and a bathroom. Shelves of books lined the walls of the bedroom. The walls bore no paintings or ornaments, only a large long mirror in the bathroom that was well equipped with a bathtub and a shower head. He removed his clothes, turning on the tap to fill the tub, remembering that he had to use only minimal magic while in the flat. Remus stepped into the lukewarm water, groaning as he rested his head on the bathtub. Sighing, he felt his aching muscles relax.
He heard a knock on the door and her voice calling out at him asking for permission to enter. He filled the tub with as much bubbles as he could, attempting to hide his privates from her view when the door opened. She had changed out of her previous clothes and now wore a black sleeveless tunic. She had a small stool with her which she placed next to the tub, the other hand holding a small bowl filled to the brim with an orange paste. As she sat, he noticed a picture of a snake coiled around a dagger on the back of her right arm. "Is that a tattoo?" He asked, surprised. It was very rare to find wizards or witches bearing tattoos made by muggles. The Dark Mark itself was enchanted, and Remus remembered the marks Sirius Black had on his chest from Azkaban, they were all magic.
"Must be strange, to see a pureblood decorated with muggle art," She chuckled. "They use these tiny needles that continuously poke on your skin, very painful, but relieving. At least for me." She smiled sadly at him, and her smile carried her secrets with her, secrets he wanted to know but was too afraid to ask and invade her privacy for he too, had his own secrets but he was sure she had already known them when she was the one who healed him. "Remus you really don't need to cover yourself, you'll finish the shower gel with this rate. I've seen you anyway, remember, I found you," She grinned, eyeing his flushed face.
"My scars, you must've seen them. They're not a pretty sight," He could not look at her. Perhaps it was easier when he was unconscious, and she had taken sight of his naked body, and now that he was aware it made him self-conscious with embarrassment. He was never proud of his scars, they were a constant reminder of his nature, of the heavy hate he had for it, for himself. He flinched when he felt her hand on his shoulders.
"Scars? I don't see scars, Remus, I only see you," She smiled at him, once again igniting the adoring flames he had for her. He chuckled, finally looking up at her. He thought he saw a tint of amber in them but ignored it, perhaps he had mistaken. "I need the bath water to do the healing. This will sting once you're submerged, it will not take long, seeing as you're progressing. I hope today's the last day we have to do this," She patted the orange paste on his neck, leg and chest, emptying the bowl. He felt a surge of heat shoot from the spots where she rubbed. "I need you to go under the water," She said softly, eyes reassuring him.
He submerged himself, eyes closed. She ran her wand above the water, enchanting it. He felt that heat turn to cold, as though he had been thrown into an icy lake. She pulled him up by his shoulders, his body shivering. "Good, you're doing well," Lucille passed him a towel and headed out of the bathroom to prepare for dinner.
Get a hold of yourself Moony, he snarled as he watched her leave. Her words still rang in his mind I only see you,stirring the wolf inside him with desire.
o
The aroma of oregano and tomatoes filled the flat as he approached the dining table. "Pasta night, Remus. I must say I quite enjoy this whole muggle procedure of cooking." She settled two plates of spaghetti across each other on the table, disappearing into the kitchen and reappearing again with cups of water. Remus seated himself across her, feeling awkward. It felt too surreal, as though they were a married couple occupying the muggle flat, dressed in muggle clothes, dining like muggles. She was unusually comfortable around him, despite knowing he was a werewolf. Half of him thought maybe she actually doesn't know. They ate quietly, the only sounds of forks scraping the plate and glasses being put down on the wooden table.
He needed to ask her. They have been together for almost a week, and he anticipated longer, seeing as how she was on the run and he, although he knew he was healing well, he had to leave her one day to return to the Order. He balled his fists under the table, agitated thinking that he had to leave her. There was something about her that he felt he could not let go of. Perhaps it was her warmth, the scent of the forest in her hair, her toothy smile, her dark brown eyes that always looked like they hid painful secrets beneath. It was all of her that he had come to know for only two days, his hyper awareness of how she moved, how her breathing paced whenever she was anxious, how she squeezed her eyebrows together whenever she was in deep concentration, it all drove him and Moony to the depths of desire. Perhaps it was because it has been so long since he paid much attention to any other woman in his life that he was feeling this way. Whatever it was, he wanted to be sure of what she knew and didn't know about him, so he plucked every fiber of Gryffindor courage to ask her, "When you found me, did you know?"
She looked up from her food at him, licking the bits of tomato sauce on her lips. He did not ask her twice. "Yes. I'm well acquainted with knowledge on Werewolves, and even knew one in person myself. Your wounds, the old ones, they sort of give them away. I'm too familiar with the patterns." She took a sip from her glass, returning her attention back to her food.
"Who was it? The person you knew," His hands were still under the table, a flicker of amber in his eyes.
"I don't want to talk about it, Remus, I'm sorry," She removed herself from the chair, bringing her plate and glass to the kitchen. He was intruding now, and she did not want to open the doors to her past for him. She did not want to open them for anyone.
Idiot, he cursed himself and followed her with his plate and glass, apologizing. "I didn't mean to intrude, it's just, well, you're quite composed for someone who knows what I am. Most of them, they just… run, or act completely uncomfortable around me, or tolerate me just enough until they withdraw themselves from me. I do understand, though," He leaned against the fridge, watching her squeeze the sponge and scrubbing the plates in the sink. She remained quiet, so he continued, "Lucille, you know I am not the safest person to tag along adventures with. I appreciate all that you've done for me, I don't know how I can ever repay you, but, as you say so yourself, I am healing, and when I heal completely, I'm afraid I must go. This war… I'm a part of it."
She raised an eyebrow at him and sighed. "Do you ever stop feeling sorry for yourself?"
"Lucille -", She interrupted him, "If you want to go off to fight in a war you think will change how people perceive you, then please, go ahead. You almost died once, and from the looks of your wounds, I suppose many times before. But you are brave, a soldier, so you grab the bull by the horns and continue to ride it. Tell me, how can you have so much courage to throw yourself into a war just to see the world change but not how you feel about yourself?"
He swallowed, hard. The last time any woman ever gave him a speech about how he lacked in self-confidence was Lily Potter. And then he lost her. The amber in his eyes grew like a flame. Moony was howling, the memories of Lily pained him. He approached her slowly, eyes locked on hers. "Do you think I enjoy hating myself like this? Do you think I purposely push people away? It has not been easy, growing up alone, constantly reminded every bloody full moon of what I am, what I am doomed for, what my life will always be. Locked up like an animal once a month, waking up to blood and flesh – my own – the next day. You find peace in your solitude, but my solitude has only brought me misery, pain, I could only find comfort in my books. People I love died under Voldemort's hands. I lost their warmth, their tenderness. This war is all I have."
A tear left her eye, slowly she brought a hand to his jaw, her fingers ghosted over his cheek. He breathed heavily under her touch, engulfed in the warmth of her palms. "I lived my life surrounded by people. People who were so trapped under so much pain, I had to go into the dark to find them and pull them out. But many times, I'm unsuccessful. You were the first person I managed to heal under such a fatal condition and I cannot let you go off to a war. Please, stay."
He closed the space between them and kissed the top of her head. She wrapped her arms around his neck and he around her waist. They remained like that in each other's embrace, until he brought his lips to hers and softly, kissed her. She returned with the same pace, and soon their kisses grew with intensity, as though the moment was going to end, as though one would leave before the other soon enough.
He parted her mouth with his tongue, tasting herbs and ripened tomato. Her hands grasped on his hair, encouraging him. He carried her to the bedroom and laid her on the bed. The lovers roamed each other's bodies with their hands, kneading as though they would mold into one another. Their clothes littered on the floor, each thrust and moan echoed off the dark blue walls. He said her name as though he was so accustomed to it, breathing into her ear as she moaned against his shoulder. He would always remember her like this, with the forest in her hair and their sweat like a river that ran down their bodies, merging into one another. They were nearing the edge of surrender, and the closer he was to it the more frantic his thrusts became and the deeper her nails clawed into his back, giving him new scars that this time, he would be proud of and happy to see, to remember. With one final push he felt her clamp against him, her velvet walls pulsating. She shuddered underneath him and as his release came following hers, he rested his head beside her, bodies slick with desire on top of one another.
His breathing soon steadied, and he cupped her face, mesmerized by her rosy flushed cheeks and dark eyelids satisfied. She raised her head to kiss him and smiled. They did not speak and feared that words would ruin the moment. His sweat dripped down her chest, mixing with hers, and travelled down to her navel. He was a river, running, into her arms that was the sea.