Disclaimer/Author's Note: Obvious stuff first: I'm not JKR, I don't own anything, and if I were making money this would be posted on my ultra-cool (nonexistent) website, not here.

Now that I've got that over with, this fic is dedicated to the lovely Chibi-Alania, who has declared this month Unwritten Harry Potter Slash Month. After reading some of her wonderful, yet unlikely, stories, I decided to try my hand at a couple of my own. Which brings usthe very gorgeyRemus Lupin and Lucius Malfoy. This is possibly one of the longest one shots I've written, and I am very proud of it.

That said, watch out for: Post-Hogwartsish themes, lots of dead people, a reluctantly evil Remus, a very horny Lucius, hints of Harry/Ginny, Ron/Hermione, and Severus/Fleur. (The last of those will be elaborated upon somewhere in the near future.) Also, beware the somewhat detailed, but still tasteful and well within the "R-rated" boundaries, pseudo-smut near the end. If thou art squeamish, it would behoove thee not to read any further.

And, to those of you who read the end before the beginning: I do not claim to know the real identity of the Half Blood Prince, which many of you will discover at midnight tonight. The phrase was only used for the purpose of irony and a bit of twisted humor on Remus' part.

And to all of you: Happy reading!

So this is how it was to end, he wondered in vague recognition of his surroundings. His friends were dropping like flies who made the unfortunate mistake of getting trapped between closed windows. Death Eaters pressed about them, strangling panes of green-and-red glass. Surrounded, he gasped for air. Sirius!

Another down. It was Luna this time. A bedraggled old woman stooped by the freshly-fallen body to search among the heap of wheat-colored curls. Her hand emerged, holding a radish-shaped earring. A souvenir of her murder. Bellatrix, you are perverse.

This was it, eh? he mused, once more. Was he to be the last? He could not be. Had not the strength. Would surely fail, alone. Holding his breath, he watched curses fly past him, inches away. He was lucky, he supposed, that he had yet to be hit. Was it even luck?

The world seemed to surge about him, as Remus John Lupin realised that he was the final wizard standing. He was the solitary monolith towering over a circle of hot corpses, appearing to steam in the sultry night air. They all lay about him, the line between good and evil nonexistent in their peaceless slumber. There, in a tangled heap, was Severus, still curled protectively over the body of Fleur Delacour. And there, Ron and Hermione, fallen together, apparently hit by the same hex. They had collapsed in each other's arms.

The remains of many a couple smouldered, broken, at his feet, but he could not find his sorrow. He had only jealousy, a stagnant rage that had been building steadily for five years or more. Everyone else was given purpose, justification in their deaths: they had sacrificed themselves in hopes of saving their lovers. Even Harry, who had, for the most part, remained single, threw himself at Voldemort, in foolish hopes of securing Ginny's life and well-being.

But he died. Not at the Dark Lord's hand, but at Ginny's. Acting under the Imperius Curse, she had compromised the resistance's location, had become again, the pawn of a man she might once have loved. But out of her own covetousness, as well as her naivete, the littlest Weasley had made the mistake that would bring their demise. She had forsaken everything to take down the Boy who ignored her – who, by his inaction, had spurned her. Love was a funny thing, Remus noted from among the carnage. It often got you killed.

Unfortunately, it hadn't payed him that favor. He stood, the last alive, while his lover had long ago crossed over. Sirius – ah, Sirius, with sweet words and sweeter kisses – had been gone from him for, what was it, now? ten years? Remus had yet to recover from that tragedy. And now, anyone who could have sympathised with him was gone, murdered, too, just like Sirius was.

With a painful tightening of his chest, the werewolf realised, then, what he must do. There was no hope now, none at all. He had no choice but to give up. After all, he did not want to die. Death was only worth it if you died for one you loved. But Remus had no one left to die for. Yes, he thought, lowering his wand, he would –

Wait.

It was silent in the streets of Hogsmeade. Too silent. For the first time since the battle had started, Remus' eyes focused. As he looked about him, he noticed that no survivor made a move against him. Not even Bellatrix Black, whom he was certain would be eager to reave life from his body. He reckoned she hated him the most, for loving her good-for-nothing, blood-traitor cousin.

What was going on?

One of the others stepped forward, straight-backed and dignified, as though he were presenting a case to a board of trustees. He raised his chin, and looked directly at Remus, with cold eyes that cut through the evening haze like daggers. Platinum locks fell freely about his shoulders. He was none other than Lucius Malfoy.

"Excellent work, Mr. Lupin," he drawled, with a vague note of admiration in his voice. Excellent work? What was he talking about? "The Dark Lord is impressed. He had not thought you would manage to survive for so long."

Remus stared blankly. This was a test? "You... you bastard..." He wanted to race at the Death Eater, to tear him apart with his bare hands, in recompense for the smug smile that lay on his hard features. How dare they!

A chuckle escaped Lucius' throat. "Relax, Lupin. You should consider yourself lucky. The Dark Lord Voldemort has chosen you, of all people – a half blood and a half-breed – to be His newest disciple." His face softened, then, and Remus began to see the hungry look that lingered in the older man's eyes. "I think you will rather enjoy the life He has prepared for you. Many a man would give his right arm or more to be in your position."

How could anyone be so cavalier about betraying everything one held dear? Remus nearly growled, as he glared through the dusk at another of his enemies. How could he ask such a thing?

"What's the matter, Lupin?" Malfoy taunted, "A few moments ago, you were going to surrender. Why not take the better offer and join us, rather than sit by as we kill you?" A malevolent – yet suggestive – grin parted his pale lips. "I imagine you will find the benefits quite... worth your time."

Remus hung his head, caught between shame and submission. As much as he hated to admit it, the bastard was right. Here he was, denying the very thing he had resolved to do. "Fine," the man rasped through the lump formulating in his throat, "I'll do it. I'll join you." Sirius, if you can hear this, forgive me.

"Excellent," said Lucius. He took a quick glance to his fellows, and the thirteen who still remained fell into a circle around Remus. Oddly, they knelt in homage and respect. "Welcome to the Dark Side, Master Lupin," Malfoy declared sardonically. "You will like it here."

Life among the Death Eaters was comfortable, if not luxurious. After all, their alliance with the Gringott's goblins gave them access to nearly unlimited funds. Despite this, they made Remus feel awkward – as they should, he supposed; he hadn't wanted to become one of them, in the first place. But this was too peculiar. He had house-elves and novices waiting on him as if he were royalty. It made him cringe.

An unexpected visit from Lucius only made matters worse. "May I come in, Remus?" he inquired from outside the werewolf's chambers. Remus wondered why the other had suddenly taken to using his given name. It had never seemed important, before.

When no one replied, the elder Malfoy opened the door – just enough to allow Remus to see him waiting. He looked so strange, lingering there tentatively. It was so unlike such a genteel man; Lucius normally had the sort of commanding presence that made an entire room stop what it was doing to look at him. "What?" Remus barked. He did not want to see anyone.

Taking the question as an invitation, Lucius let himself in, making certain to close the door behind him. "You and I..." he paused, the tone in his voice the same as it had always been, despite the question in his eyes, "need to talk." Allowing his words to hang in the air awhile, the Death Eater seated himself in a large, comfortable chair beside Remus' bed.

A vague grunt was his only response. The werewolf had asked not to be disturbed. He was, after all, still adjusting to his surroundings. Calmly remaining anywhere with one's former enemies was a bit beyond him, even at this point. It was going to take some getting used to. And that was an understatement.

"We all realise the..." Pause. "...difficulty which faces you. The Master has known that you would not ...come easily." It was odd; Lucius, of all people, seemed to be groping for words. Eloquence was always his strong suit. Where was it, now? "And while it is not easy to... sink into this new paradigm, in which foe becomes friend and vice versa, you must remember that this has been your place, all along. You belong with us."

Remus was about to protest, but a gesture from Malfoy stayed him. He sat on the edge of his comfortable bed, more alert, now, and also more interested. What was he playing at?

"Creatures of strength must fight together, else no battle be won for either side." The ease with which he spoke steadily increased with every sentence. "You, Master Lupin," – a peculiar note of respect rang in that title – "are a being of great power. Like us. Our Master seeks to combine our powers, to create the ultimate army. An unstoppable force which He may use to gain dominion over the world, making us, of course, the first of the nobility in His new civilization." A dreamy smile crept across his face, and he seemed as though he were lost in this fantasy. Remus had never seen him possess such passion for anything. It was almost... alluring.

"So you see," Lucius continued without pause to notice the softening of the lycanth's expression, "whether we desire it or not, we are destined companions. You may doubt this, now, but I think you will soon come to discover that our wary alliance can grow to be... much more." His voice had lowered to a whisper, and the hunger in his eyes had returned, as those icy orbs fell over Remus. Leaning forward, he sneered, some cross between an amused grin and a leer.

By this, Lupin was quite taken aback. Surely, Malfoy wasn't suggesting...? No. Most definitely not. He was just imagining the lusty glint in his eyes. Because Lucius was like a vampire, in that respect. He did not experience those kinds of emotions. No, not even emotions; they were more like carnal cravings. Lust. Greed. Fear. He was a Death Eater, and he knew nothing of those. Remus was certain of this.

Was he? Confusion crossed his face for a split second. How was he to know what Lucius was like when they hadn't properly conversed for going on twenty-five-plus years?

The other wizard rose, then, assuming an expression of resignation. "Well, I see my words are not helping. You will have to let things sink in, yourself. Thus, I shall excuse myself. I did not mean to disturb you." Slowly, Lucius crossed the room to exit.

A part of Remus realised that he was being toyed with. Nevertheless, he jumped at Malfoy's lure like it was the last of his lifeblood. "Wait!" he called after the man, though he was but a few feet away.

Lucius turned, glancing sidelong over his shoulder, poised as if he had practiced the look dozens of times. He did not speak, but the gentle, amused curl of his lip and raised arch of eyebrow asked all the questions his voice did not. Including ones Remus was not sure he was ready – or willing – to answer.

Remus bit his lip, nearly writhing under the piercing stare, and cursing his impulsive desperation. "Don't go," he croaked meekly. He hated Lucius, really he did, but he was suddenly afraid to be alone. Something the other man would not have understood, regardless. So why was Remus so eager to remain in his presence? "I could use the company."

It was a weak explanation, but it seemed to placate Lucius' curiosity, as he did remain. Without changing his expression, he moved to sit beside Remus. "As could I," he conceded, in a soft tone. "Times are rather... trying, as of late, don't you think?"

Unable to do anything but nod, Remus looked over his unlikely companion. He appeared as any other Malfoy; slightly aged, and worn about the edges, but not without that regal air which told you he commanded respect. His eyes were beginning to seem sunken and tired – they held a baleful look which Shakespeare might have described as "lean and hungry," like Cassius – though still a strangely beautiful blue, not vibrant, but sparkling nonetheless; and his hair had lost some of its former glossiness. But, all in all, he was still quite attractive.

In his survey of Lucius' appearance, Remus could not help but remember with painful clarity just how long it had been since...

He stopped himself before finishing the thought; he should not be thinking of such things. The situation was confusing enough, as it was, without bringing sex and feelings and longing into the mixture. And besides, Sirius would never forgive him.

Swallowing, he managed to choke out, "You have no idea." He really must exorcise the thought from his mind. He definitely did not want to get involved with Lucius. Right.

"Don't I?" the Death Eater inquired with a smirk. "I may not have experienced the battle from your end, but I do know what it feels like to watch your... comrades fall about you, to lose numerous allies in one fell swoop. You might not have noticed... Remus, but our side suffered fatalities, too."

The werewolf hung his head, a vivid image of the Last Battle of Hogsmeade formulating in his mind's eye. But that wasn't the brightest picture; what stung the most was mentally watching Sirius fall through the Veil – over and over again. "Yes..." he said vaguely, no longer paying attention to Lucius or his unspoken questions. Now, he relived every moment of pain he reaped from Sirius' absences. The agony of living alone, under the delusion that he had been betrayed by the one he loved... the realisation that everything he'd been told was wrong... and then having it taken away from him again, after so short a time...

The feeling of knuckles gently grazing his cheek brought Remus back from his somber reverie. A light sigh breathed in his ear. "Such a fine creature should not hold such sorrow in his eyes," whispered Malfoy, and Remus was compelled to pretend that he meant it. "Therefore, I expect it is my newfound duty to extinguish it... forever." His voice had become soft and husky; much different from his stiff, articulated speech of the day. It was the quintessence of how one's "bedroom voice" should sound, and Lupin cursed himself for finding it so arousing.

A trail of velvets kisses graced his neck, travelling to the collar of his robes while skilled fingers began to undo the fine silver clasps – one by one. Surprisingly, the werewolf did not resist, but melted into the obvious seduction of his foe – or were they allies, now? Closing his eyes in disgust with himself and delight for the brush of soft lips against his skin, he could naught but submit; he even wanted to, now. The feeling was too good to forsake.

It was not long before Remus lay naked, at Lucius' mercy, now, aching for what was undoubtedly to come. He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to imagine that it was a night of lovemaking with Sirius that he anticipated. But as soon as those chill lips descended on his collar bone and a warm, throbbing erection entered him, there was no denying that Malfoy was the one mercilessly driving into him. He had moaned for Sirius; now, he whimpered in lust and pain for Lucius. The men were so obviously different, yet one thing linked them: their obvious attraction to Remus. Both received immense pleasure from fucking him, albeit one more lovingly than the other.

Above all, though, was the important fact which infinitely separated them. Life still remained in Lucius' body – this much was obvious to Remus, as he let out a soft yelp, enjoying the little twinges of pain as he clawed at the other's back – but, Sirius... Sirius was as lifeless as any memory, real and yet intangible. And that was what kept Remus in his bed, crying – no, begging – for more. The love he and Sirius had shared was gone, and could never be replaced. But the lust which bonded he and Lucius still existed, and would endure long after any love had faded.

So, he stayed. Apprenticed to the Dark Lord, and treated as royalty by all. His every need was fulfilled, every lust supplied. And because of Lucius, he was a Prince. When he pondered that, he laughed. Remus John Lupin was certainly some Half-Blood Prince.