"This place is disgusting, Father," Sirius muttered under his breath. As the heir of a highly-influential pureblood family, he'd been brought up to show better manners than to insult his hosts. But, of course, like most pureblood mannerisms and traditions, they only applied when your host was your equal or your social superior. And if Sirius knew anything, he knew that this place (and probably all the people in it) was far inferior to him and his family.
"Yes, it probably could do with a clean," Orion said mildly, looking down his nose as a grubby house elf scurried past. At least their house elves were trained to not be seen when they weren't wanted.
"No, I mean this entire idea is disgusting," Sirius argued. "Who came up with it, anyway?"
"Your great-grandfather," Orion replied in a bored voice. "You can take it up with his portrait when we return home."
"Why don't we simply sell it, Father?" Sirius asked. "Surely it does nothing for our family name?"
"It turns over a surprising profit," Orion told his son as he approached a large, wooden rectangle that Sirius assumed was a front desk.
"Go figure," Sirius muttered under his breath. If his family were screwed up enough to marry their cousins, why wouldn't they own a brothel for those few people who liked to fuck magical creatures?
There should be a law against this sort of thing, Sirius thinks to himself. The only thing that was in any way acceptable about this establishment was that at least they only had humanoid prostitutes. Not that Sirius doubted there was a market for hippogriffs or something… he stopped his mind before it even went down that road. Some things were too disgusting to even contemplate.
The sleazy looking man at the reception bowed to them, obviously recognising Orion as the man who paid his wages. "My lord," he wheezed.
"Rise, Westman," Orion bit out impatiently. "How can I talk to you if you insist on licking the floor?"
"Sorry, sir," Westman wheezed, straightening up slowly. "The brothel is doing well, as usual. I have the monthly report and the accounts right here."
He fumbled in what appeared to be some sort of cubbyhole behind the podium-like desk, and handed a book and a rumpled piece of parchment to Orion, who took it with a disgusted look. Sirius could see why - it was filthy, and his father very rarely touched anything dirtier than a polished silver goblet. "Very good," he said disdainfully, making it clear that it was anything but good.
"Can I interest you in anything else, sir? We have a veela available tonight. Or perhaps Master Sirius would like to request something?"
Orion turned up his nose. "I will not be requiring anymore help tonight," he said. "However, Sirius may do what he wishes."
Sirius looked up at his father, aghast. "What? You think I'd ever… you think I'd pay for something like this?"
"They have male creatures here as well," Orion said, by way of explanation. "And I don't only think you would, but I expect you to. Due to your undesirable… sexuality," he paused before he said the word, as though it was difficult to get out, "then it will be a while before we find you a male pureblood match suitable for the heir of the Black family."
Yep, that was his father. Totally okay with him being gay, provided he still did as he was expected and married, or civilly joined or whatever he was supposed to do, with some well-bred pureblood. He almost wished he'd been kicked out, as he'd expected, when he'd told his parents that he wasn't the least bit interested in the pureblood wench they'd picked out for him.
"So?" Sirius demanded. "I'd rather hang myself than take a creature from here."
"Then I'd better buy you some rope while we're out," Orion said coldly. "You will use these services. It sets a good example - in between my coming of age and when I married your mother, the profit we made here increased by three hundred and sixty-eight percent. People follow the example of the Blacks. And you lack the forcefulness and air of command that befits a Black. This will be a good exercise for you."
Sirius was too shocked to reply. This was sick. Like he'd ever hire a… a… harlot anyway, let alone a non-human one. How could his father possibly think…?
But Sirius knew how. It was his duty to uphold the traditions of his family, no matter what his thoughts or feelings on the matter were. That's the reason he'd only had Slytherin suck-ups for friends. When he'd been sorted into Gryffindor, his father had marched into the school and demanded he was placed directly into Slytherin. Sirius had no idea how he'd convinced Dumbledore but, after sitting outside the Headmaster's office for over three hours, he was led to the Slytherin common rooms. James and Peter, the pricks he'd thought had been great friends, grew distant and cold in response to his house switch.
So he'd been stuck with the company of his cousins, and idiots like Malfoy, Crabbe, and Nott. That had been torture enough for his seven years of schooling, and now his father expected him to do this.
"We have a vampire tonight, sir," Westman was saying. "Amongst our regulars."
"Well, it's a little hard for me to know your regulars seeing as we never come here, isn't it?" Orion pointed out condescendingly. "We'll need to inspect them. Line them up out here."
"Right away, sr," Westman mumbled, stumbling off down the hallway behind the desk to what Sirius assumed were rooms of some sort.
After a few minutes, Westman returned with several male creatures, which he lined up, presumably so Sirius could inspect them.
"Anghel Vladimir." Westman said, "Vampire."
"A dwarf," he said, pointing to a short, stocky creature with a beard. "He has no name."
He listed of a number of other creatures including a goblin, a male hag (Sirius hadn't even known that they existed) and an imp. Looking at them all, Sirius felt even more nauseous that ha already did. Finally, Westman finished stating their names, just as a scrawny boy who didn't look any older than Sirius crept out of the hallway behind Westman, sneaking into line.
"Lupin, you're late!" Westman barked. It was amazing how he lost his meek air that he'd had around Orion when he was speaking to someone he deemed lesser than him. "When I tell you to come, you come immediately. I'll deal with you later." Then he turned to Orion and Sirius once more. "This is Remus Lupin - a werewolf."
Sirius felt sick at the thought he had to choose one of these creatures. He was about to refuse to participate in such a disgusting activity when he glanced at the werewolf just as the creature raised his head.
The boy - because he could barely be classed as an adult - had wide brown eyes, filled with fear, and Sirius got the feeling he'd rather be cowering in some filthy corner of a cold alley than be here in this room, knowing what might be to come. But at the same time, the stubbornness of his jaw and the way he held himself told Sirius that this creature still had what the other prostitutes lacked: pride.
He wasn't sure whether it was his Black blood coming out in him when that drew his attention. His father would say that it was because something like a werewolf should have no pride and, as a pureblood and a wizard, it was his job to break that pride. But somehow, Sirius didn't think so.
And there was some sort of… familiarity, Sirius thought. Like he recognised him. It was hard to put a finger on, but it was as though Sirius had seen him begging with a tin can on Diagon Alley - out of place enough to get a second glance, but not important enough to warrant a second thought.
He could have sworn he'd seen the creature before, though.
With that, he made up his mind. "I'll take that one," he said, pointing at the werewolf.
His father raised his eyes in surprise. "Really, Sirius? Are you sure you want to mingle with a being of such… foul blood?"
Sirius, who was watching the werewolf closely, saw him twitch, but the boy Westman had called Lupin held his tongue. A good thing, too, Sirius thought. His pitiful looks were barely able to warrant him being in this business as it was, without adding bruises to that already-scarred face as a punishment for insolence towards his betters.
He realised his father was waiting for a reply, and he looked up with what he hoped would appear to be disinterested eyes. "This one has too much pride for his status, father," he said, and was pleased with how genuine the statement sounded. "He needs to be taught his place."
Orion assessed his son swiftly, a calculating look crossing his features. Sirius would have held his breath if he hadn't thought it would look suspicious. Finally, Orion nodded his approval.
"Very good," he said. He seemed about to add something, when Sirius interrupted.
"I'll be paying the wolf directly," he told Westman. Judging by his thinness, Lupin didn't get enough food as it was, without the hefty price Westman would undoubtedly charge him for the service of finding him an employer. Sirius might be a Black, but he wasn't cruel; he wouldn't sit back and watch the creature starve just so scum like Westman could fill his pockets. It was the custom to pay the brothel, but Westman could hardly say no.
He dared not look at his father. He was taking a risk by saying that; if his father correctly interpreted that he was doing it out of misplaced pity for the werewolf then he might as well have simply refused to participate in this sick activity. He snapped at Lupin, "I'll pay you going by what I think you should be paid. If I think you deserve nothing more than a slice of stale bread, then that's what you'll get and you'll be grateful for it."
The werewolf ducked his head so that Sirius couldn't see his expression, and nodded awkwardly. Sirius wondered if he should demand that the werewolf look at him or not. He sneaked a look at his father - he appeared suitably satisfied by Sirius' performance.
"I'll be taking the creature straight back to Grimmauld Place, Father," he told Orion imperiously. "If I stay here any longer, I think I'll catch fleas." He barely waited for his father's agreement before he strode over to the creature, grabbing his forearm in a rough grip.
The werewolf flinched, but Sirius' reflexes were fast, and within seconds they were on the doorstep outside the London house. Sirius shrugged off the uncomfortable feeling of apparation in a heartbeat, but beside him the werewolf was slower to do so.
As Lupin coughed and spluttered, bent over and clutching his stomach as he fought not to vomit, Sirius had to wonder if the werewolf had ever apparated before. Judging from his reaction, Sirius would have to guess that he hadn't. Perhaps he should have asked before transporting him across the country so roughly.
"Are you okay?" he asked, concerned despite himself.
At his words, the werewolf seemed to realise that he had company. He straightened up and made an attempt to hold back some of the coughs that were forcing their way from his chest. "Yeah," he grunted, coughing once more. "'M fine."
"Good," Sirius said, shortly and somewhat awkwardly. Then he cleared his throat. "Well… this way."
He pushed open the door, not bothering to announce his arrival. He held the door open for Lupin, who, looking startled at the gesture, wandered through the door as though meandering down a random street he'd never been on before. His casualness might have annoyed Sirius if it hadn't been for the look of wonder on the werewolf's face. "Probably never been inside a real house before," Sirius thought cruelly. Then he realised the thought was horrible and regretted thinking it.
But only a little. After all, it was just a werewolf.
He shut the door and moved past the creature once more, leading the way up the stairs. He assumed the wolf would follow and, sure enough, he heard a light padding behind him as he made his way to his room. It wasn't until then that Sirius realised the werewolf had no shoes.
He reached his room and entered it, not even bothering to invite Lupin in. Instead he threw himself straight on his bed. "Close the door," he said over his shoulder.
He rolled over onto his back so he was half sitting as Lupin pushed it shut. However, it had one of those old, heavy handles that you had to turn to close the door entirely. Lupin reached out for the doorknob, his sleeve over his hand, but pulled back.
Sirius frowned. "Shut it all the way," he ordered. Was the wolf thick as well?
"I can't," Lupin murmured, almost too low to hear. "Your door handles are made of the purest silver. I can't go near them, even with something covering my hand." He shrugged his sleeve further up his arm so that his hand was revealed, and Sirius could see, even with the dim light and the distance between them, that a welt or a burn of some sort was beginning to appear on his pale, scarred skin. Sirius' eyes widened; he hadn't even touched the door handle.
He hastily got up from the bed and advanced towards to door. Lupin flinched back, going so far as to take a step away from him. Sirius couldn't help noticing how the werewolf somehow managed to shrink into himself and make himself look smaller. Had he thought Sirius was going to hit him?
Instead Sirius reached past him and shut the door, purposely slowing and gentling the movement so that he didn't startle the werewolf. Lupin watched cautiously as Sirius backed away.
"Beats me how anyone can get close enough to fuck you when you're as jumpy as a jack-rabbit, Lupin," Sirius said idly. The werewolf ducked his head and mumbled something, which Sirius strained his ears to hear. He still missed it. "Can't hear you," he told Lupin.
"I said no one's ever picked me," he said more loudly.
Sirius regarded him with assessing eyes, not sure what to make of this revelation. On one hand, screwing a werewolf was better than screwing a gnome, so he couldn't imagine why Lupin would be unpopular. On the other hand, he himself didn't know why he picked the creature, so he could hardly fault others for skipping over him.
And he wasn't sure what to make with the information that Lupin probably didn't have much more of an idea about how this was supposed to work than he did.
"Right. Well, rest assured, I have no intention of shagging you," Sirius said. "I'm just doing this to get my father off my back." He saw the werewolf open his mouth. "I'll still pay you," he assured Lupin, guessing the question he was going to ask. "I was just going to offer you your usual rate, but apparently you don't have one. Ah well, I'm sure we'll work something else."
Lupin nodded, and then, after a moment's silence, cleared his throat. "So, um… what exactly do you want me to do then?"
Sirius shrugged, relaxing back on his bed. "Dunno. Entertain yourself, I guess. There's gobstones and a kitten in the wardrobe, and books over the-" he cut himself off, realising that the creature probably couldn't read.
"Over the-?" Lupin asked. "So can I not touch the books?" His eyebrow was raised, and Sirius was startled to see how much more comfortable he appeared now. His tone even sounded mocking.
"You can," Sirius said. "If you can read them."
He was sceptical, and perhaps his voice portrayed that because Lupin abruptly rose and padded over to the bookcase. Sirius wasn't sure whether to be curious about this seemingly-literate Dark Creature, or annoyed that it was proving him wrong. In the end, he settled for disinterest, pulling his own book (a muggle war novel) off his bedside table. At the last minute he remembered he was supposed to be keeping up a pretence, and cast a quick silencing charm with his wand. That ought to satisfy his father.
He soon became immersed in his book. Lupin was so quiet that he might as well not have been there at all. After a while, however, Sirius became curious and looked up.
He snorted when he saw which text the werewolf had picked out. It was a horribly complicated spell book that his father had given him - he'd attempted to flick through it once and had given up after a few mere minutes. He highly doubted the creature could understand a word of it.
Lupin, as though sensing the derisive snort was for him, looked up and raised an eyebrow by way of a question. Sirius shook his head. "Can you even read the words in that book?" he demanded.
"Yes," Lupin responded. "Every single one."
Sirius snorted again, and this time Lupin couldn't help but challenge him. "Is something funny?"
"No, no," Sirius said. "I just don't really believe you."
"Well I can. I've read the first chapter, and I could instruct you on how to perform the Helsona Charm if you'd like."
It was at that point that Sirius realised the werewolf's voice was more… refined, than one would expect of a homeless werewolf making his way by selling his body to any passerby that would take him. It wasn't as aristocratic as Sirius' own tone, but it was certainly scholarly in manner. He began to doubt himself.
"Why couldn't you perform it, then, if you know so much?"
Lupin looked at him as though he was an idiot. "I'm a werewolf. I'm not allowed a wand. Can't own one, and you'd be thrown into Azkaban if you let me borrow yours."
Now Sirius thought about it, he did recall some legislation to that end. "Fair enough," he said grumpily, not willing to be defeated in a war of logic by someone who should ranked so very much below him in every way you chose to look at it.
There was more silence for another few minutes, before Sirius broke it again. "Go on," he said suddenly, referring to their previous conversation. "Try the spell. I won't tell anyone."
Lupin raised his eyebrow. "I don't think so," he said. "It might be Azkaban for you, but it would be the silver axe for me. I'd rather not risk it."
That shut Sirius up temporarily - but only for a moment. While Lupin's eyes returned to flicking back and forth across the page, Sirius stared at the werewolf, undisguised curiosity apparent in his expression.
"How'd you learn to read, anyway?" he burst out a moment later. Lupin sighed and set his book down beside him. Clearly it had become apparent to him that he was not to get a lot of reading done.
"I wasn't always a monster," he told Sirius. "And even after I was bitten, my parents thought that I might still be able to live a normal life. They taught me to read and write and add - all the basics like that. They even enrolled me in a school. I practiced a few spells with my dad's wand, too, although that was before they banned Dark Creatures from coming in contact with magical objects that they could use to channel their magic."
Sirius listened to his short spiel with rapt attention, and wished he would keep talking once he'd finished. He didn't know why, but he felt a burning curiosity about this strange thing that had wandered into his life.
"You were enrolled in a school?" he asked. Remus nodded.
"Yeah. Then the Ministry found out I was at Hogwarts-"
"You went to Hogwarts?" Sirius interrupted. "What year did you start?"
"1971," Remus said. "Same year as you."
Sirius was shocked by the revelations; more that Remus had gone to Hogwarts with him than the fact the werewolf remembered him.
He'd gone to Hogwarts with a werewolf.
"I don't remember you," he said. Remus shrugged.
"Like I said, it was only until they pulled me out. I wasn't even there for a week. I'm not surprised that you don't remember me; my leaving was very hushed. They didn't want to parents to know what Dumbledore'd let it. I think only the Board of Governors knew."
"Dumbledore let you in?" Sirius asked incredulously.
"Yeah. He said that I deserved to learn if I wanted to, despite my unfortunate circumstances."
"That sounds like the type of nutty thing he'd say."
"Yeah." Sirius heard the smile in Remus' voice. "He got in a bit of trouble for it, though."
"I'll bet," Sirius agreed. He glanced at the clock beside him and swore. "Bloody hell, it's late," he said. "We've been up here for hours." He must have been reading longer than he'd realised.
"So we have," Remus commented idly. "Do we pretend to finish now?"
Sirius grinned. "You bet. Muss up your hair a little. I'll just find you some money and see you out."
Lupin complied, and Sirius removed the silencing charm. He dropped a bag considerably full with galleons into Lupin's hand, and opened the door for him. He realised he'd have to see him out the front door too; its handle was also silver.
When they parted on the doorstep, Sirius shook Lupin's hand formally. "Glad to meet you… again," he said, once he was sure his father wasn't listening. There was a hint of smile in his voice.
"It really was a pleasure," Lupin said, and the slight happiness in the voice gave Sirius the impression that he wasn't lying. "I haven't read a decent book in ages."
They shared a grin, before Lupin awkwardly turned to go. "Well, thank you," he said. "Good bye."
Sirius muttered one last farewell before Lupin's back was retreating quickly and disappearing down the street. It wasn't until he was back in his room that Sirius realised Lupin not only had no way of getting anywhere, but didn't even know whereabouts in England he was.
He realised that he felt incredibly guilty for leaving the werewolf in such a situation, and he wondered idly what had changed so much in the past few hours. He was sure that, even just that morning, he wouldn't have had a problem with it.
A/N: This was a story I wrote and posted a long time ago for the saying "You're worth your weight in gold". I always meant to rewrite and revamp this story before reposting it, but other than the odd touch-up, I haven't got around to it and don't see myself doing so in the future. I thought, therefore, that I'd post it as-is. I don't believe it's my finest work, but I do think it marks how much my writing has progressed over my time on .
Feedback is always appreciated. Thanks for reading!