(A/N) Right, this is a sequel to 'Colours of the Night'. This story is set just after the fourth HP book, when Sirius has returned from Azkaban and is in hiding and Voldemort has returned. I'm not sure if this will be a happy sequel or not but, we'll see. Anyway I hope you enjoy reading it- and if you haven't read 'Colours of the Night' I suggest you check it out cos basically you need to read the first to understand the sequel.

CHAPTER ONE: A Glance in a Bookshop.

Remus Lupin opened the door of his rather shabby London flat and stepped outside into the rain-soaked street. He lived in the bottom flat of an old townhouse, derelict and damp. But Remus didn't mind, it was the best he could afford and any place seemed good to him. Since he had been fired from his position at Hogwarts Remus had been short on money, no one in the wizarding world would give him a job because of his 'condition'. He was used to that now though, but that didn't stop him from sinking into depression. He drank, he drank far too much and he knew it was wrong. But when you had lost all your friends and had been reduced to working in a muggle Paper shop then drinking seemed awfully appealing. Plus there were the memories, the faint images of white-gold hair and silver eyes that flashed before him at night, when he was too drunk and stupid to keep them at bay.

Images that he desperately wanted to become reality. He could almost imagine touching the silky strands of hair, could almost recall the feel of it under his fingers. But no, Remus knew it was no good to dwell on the past, a past that threatened to drag him under. He was thirty-five for God's sake; thirty-five and he still couldn't get over something that had happened when he was sixteen.

He had never spoken to Lucius again. Oh he had seen the man from a distance, in the crowds in Diagon Alley, or watching his son play Quidditch at Hogwarts. His son, Draco had been a constant reminder to Remus when he had worked at Hogwarts. But Draco was nothing like Lucius had been before that Halloween. Draco was malicious and nasty from the start.

Remus sighed and put up his black umbrella, Diagon alley was only a little walk from his flat so he was willing to put up with the rain. He was visiting Flourish and Blotts, intent on getting some new reading material. Maybe that would stop him from resorting to drink at night. He ran a pale hand through his long amber-grey hair; he hadn't bothered to tie it back. He never bothered any more.

As he walked down the dim grey streets Remus seemed to the people that passed him almost like a shadow, silent and faded.

Passing through the Leaky Cauldron Remus kept his head down; he didn't want to talk to anybody.

Flourish and Blotts was busy when he entered, Remus liked it that way. He liked a crowd that he could just disappear into. Making his way over to a large selection of books on ancient folklores Remus nearly tripped over a small boy scrambling one the floor, searching for his sweets. Moving hurriedly away Remus reached the books. He scanned the shelves, his eyes searching for anything that would look remotely interesting. Suddenly his eyes picked out a book 'Werewolf Lore: A guide to Dark Creatures'. Remus drew a sharp intake of breath, it was the book he had been reading that time in the library, the time when Lucius had....well, it didn't matter now.

Slowly he reached out his hand for the book, at the same time as another hand was reaching. Remus froze, recognising the slim, pale fingers which closed around the desired book and pulled it from its resting place on the shelf.

Slowly Remus turned around to come face to face with none other than Lucius Malfoy. And oh but he was still beautiful. His white-gold hair fell longer now, past his waist, tied with a black ribbon, little wisps that the wind had freed hung gently around his pale face, the eyes of which stared big and wide as they took in the man before them. The mouth hung open; its pale lips looked as though they were trying to form a word, a name, Remus's name.

Then the spell was broken, Narcissa appeared, pale and pointed beside her husband. Lucius's eyes iced over and a sneer formed on his perfect lips. "Werewolf." He hissed before shoving the book into Remus's arms. Then with a final smirk he was gone, Narcissa and Draco in tow, the shop door slamming behind them.

Feeling weaker than he had felt in a long time Remus almost sank to his knees, fear of people noticing him, however, stopped him. He walked dazedly to the counter and paid for the book, his mind on other things.

That night Remus sat at his desk, a half empty bottle of Fire-whisky beside him and tears on his face. He had never been able to forget Lucius, the one person who had made him happy, the one person who had wormed their way into his heart and then broken it. It didn't matter, Lucius had been the only one he had wanted, and he still was the only one he wanted. That one night with Sirius, how Remus regretted it, things had never ever been the same between Sirius and him since then.

Remus sighed; all he could see was Lucius. Why had the other man been looking at a book on Werewolves? It didn't make sense, nothing made sense any more.

Lucius Malfoy slammed the study door behind him and leant against it, listening to his wife's footsteps as they disappeared down the marble floor. His mind was in a muddle, it had been a mess since his encounter with Remus Lupin earlier that day. He had been living for so long, pretending that nothing had ever happened between them, pretending that he didn't see Remus in his mind every time he fucked his wife, or Voldemort fucked him. Lucius shivered and clutched his face in his hands. These thoughts were weak, if Voldemort knew he had these thoughts his master would not be pleased.

Yes his Master, Lucius knew he was nothing more than a puppet on Voldemort's strings but it was too late now to change that. Too late to change destiny, too late to get the happiness he really wanted.

Just then a form stepped out of the shadows at the end of the room, beside the unlit marble fireplace. "My poor Lucius," a serpent tongue hissed. "Why do you shake so?"

Lucius closed his eyes and stepped forward, away from the door. A locking spell was hissed and then the hands descended. The thin, claw-like fingers roamed his body, removing his robes and scratching his skin. "You're mine." Voldemort hissed, "There will never be anyone as pure as you and so, you are mine."

A red nail scratched over Lucius's pale chest, leaving a cut which bled slowly, red on white. The forked tongue lapped it up and then kissed Lucius's lips, allowing him a taste of his own blood. "Such pure blood," came the hiss. "My pure-blooded whore."

"Your pure-blooded whore." Lucius repeated, closing his eyes as Voldemort pushed him up against the wall.

Later, as Lucius lay sprawled across the floor in his study, cold, naked and alone, he cried. He hadn't cried for a long, long time but now it seemed, as he lay there in the dark, that the tears would never stop. "I am lost." He whispered to the silence, "I am lost."

Remus groaned as he awoke with a splitting headache to the sound of something tapping at his window. Grumbling he pushed himself out of his seat, spilling the fire-whisky as he did so. "Shit." He said, hurriedly mopping up the mess with the edge of his robes. However the tapping was insistent and so Remus had to give up his mopping to open the window.

When he did so a rather miffed looking owl flew in, deposited a letter and Remus's feet and flew off again, stopping only to give the tired man a glare.

With a sigh Remus reached down and picked up the letter, his pale fingers tearing open the envelope. With a sigh he leant against the wall to read it, it was from Sirius, the messy, round writing was a dead giveaway.

Dear Remus,

I haven't seen you for ages, are you avoiding me? I know you've been drinking- Arthur told me, and Harry knows as well. We're all worried about you Remus, we hardly ever see you. Harry misses you.

I miss you.

I don't understand why you think you can't talk to me about things, I will always be here for you when you want me, you know that. Please Remus I need to see you. Come and visit us at Grimmauld place. I won't judge you.

Yours,

Sirius

Remus sighed and his amber eyes filled with tears, Sirius was so nice to him, why was he so nice after the way he had used him? Remus still felt sick about that, he remembered every second of it, including the moment when he had called Lucius's name, imagining it was the Slytherin buried inside him and not Sirius.

There was no way he could face Sirius in his current state, but how could he not go? If he didn't it was very likely that he would wake up with a very miffed Sirius, Molly and Arthur standing outside his door.

His head thumped insistently and Remus sighed. Pulling out his wand he performed a quick spell to clear his head. It was handy to know such a spell if you were in the habit of waking up with a hangover every morning. Tomorrow, he decided. Tomorrow he would go and visit Sirius. Just to be nice, exchange a few pleasantries, show them he was still alive. It was easy sometimes to pretend, to make others think you were okay while inside you were dying.

Lucius jabbed his quill angrily into the inkpot and then threw both across the floor. What was the matter with him? For years he had kept thoughts of Remus to the back of his mind, barely there. Only emerging in dreams or flashing unbidden during sex. And it was sex when you were willing wasn't it? Because it wasn't rape, Lucius was willing. No matter how much he wished it weren't true Lucius was willing and it was never rape. It was rape the first time. But after that, after Lucius had been used and broken it wasn't rape anymore.

A knock sounded at the door and his son, Draco stepped into the office, dressed in his school robes.

"I'm leaving for Hogwarts now Father." The boy said quietly; his eyes wide and grey under his white-blond fringe.

"What of it?" Lucius snapped, not looking up from his paperwork.

"Goodbye." Draco said, jutting his sharp chin in the air and walking out the room.

Lucius sighed and leant back in the chair, he didn't love his son and he knew that was a terrible think to admit. But how could he love a product of a marriage and life that he had been forced into? How could he love a product of evil? How could he love anything anymore?

(A/N) well there's the first chapter. What did you think? Good, bad, ugly, pretty???

REVIEW and tell me!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!