Here it is! Challenge fic for Josh. Songfic to Without You from Rent. Remus/Sirius, One sided Sev/Sirius, Remus/Sev (kinda), Sev/Regulus, Harry/Draco

Lots of lemon. Requirements: Lyrics to without you, lemon, Sirius/Remus, a torture scene and...i dun remember the rest, but it's there.

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Challenge—Without You

Chapter One

Remus Lupin sat curled up in a chair, wrapped in a large patch quilt, shivering. He tried to tell himself that it was from the snow, but he had looked out the window and seen the January warmth start to thaw the freezing ground. His shivers weren't from the cold, and yet he pulled the quilt around him tighter, inhaling the scent of its previous owner.

Without you the ground thaws

He shifted on the large chair, bringing his legs to his chest and hugging them tightly. He tried to hold in a sob, but it tore through his throat and echoed in the utterly empty room. He rubbed his head against the blanket, nuzzling it, and pressing it closer to him. He could remember the first time he had witnessed the patchwork quilt and the boy who was trying desperately to shove it back into his luggage.

Remus's amber eyes wandered to the large painting on the opposite side of the room, whose occupant was currently painting its nails a horrendous shade of black. He watched the figure attempt to continue to do its nails, but its long tendrils of black hair kept falling in its face, and it couldn't push the hair back without smearing the nail polish. Remus had told him many times, it would be much easier for him to put his hair up or not paint his nails at all, but the man seemed to enjoy ignoring Remus for sport. He choked in another sob as he heard the figure start to hum.

He knew that song. That was his song. Their song. He closed his eyes and imagined that it wasn't just a foolish dream, and that they were sitting together again. That they were happy. That the man in the painting wasn't six feet under and six months gone.

He pulled the quilt tighter around him, and cleared his throat loudly, trying to get the lump that had settled there to dislodge itself. The figure turned and smiled at him, winking and laughing. He knew that laugh. It was the same. It wasn't like his own laugh, which James had once said could be compared to the tinkling of bells. No, it was a loud, obnoxious, infectious laugh. He used to hear that laugh so often. The figure in the painting was one who could find humor anywhere, in anything.

He was fearless and brave, funny and passionate. He was everything Remus could safely say he wasn't. He was Remus's polar opposite, and yet neither could manage to embarrass the other in public, or to say the wrong thing. Remus could hardly remember a fight between the two of them that had lasted longer than an hour or where the actual fight had taken more time then the make-up sex.

He watched the man again, slowly paint his nails. Remus knew he could sit here all day and watch, but Harry wouldn't allow that. Harry had insisted that Remus join himself and Draco for luncheon and tea, despite Remus's claims of having a doctor's appointment, it being the full moon, and his final admission of having a hair cut to get to. Harry had ignored him and had stated the place and the time and told Remus to shut up, show up, or receive more Howlers than he could ever envision.

He smiled at the portrait, then said softly to it, "I have to leave soon. Harry's dragging me off to another luncheon, and I should probably show up this time."

The portrait smiled back. "Remember to wear a jacket, or you'll freeze to death." The figure winked, then concentrated on making it's nails black, again.

Remus stood up, still wrapped up in the large quilt, and began to walk towards the door.

"Oh! I forgot!" Remus turned towards the portrait that was blushing, blue eyes shining. "Good morning, Remus," it called, grinning.

"Good Morning, Sirius."

Remus checked his watch for what must have been the fourteenth time in the past two minutes. Raised by a muggle and wizard, Remus had no problem with buses, and trains. It was this particular train that was going to drive Remus off the edge.

It had arrived late, it had stopped at stops it wasn't supposed to stop at, and had been delayed by accidents four times. Remus closed his eyes, and tried to get some rest. He was beginning to feel as though he should have stayed home and risked the howlers.

In the Ministry of Magic, Department of Mysteries, Death Chamber, Severus Snape sat sullenly on the dais. He looked on into the veil, trying to control his surging emotions. He knew he wouldn't cry. He hadn't cried in ages. He didn't cry. It wasn't how he functioned. That was a lie and he knew it. He had cried just last week. He sighed, and turned towards the veil. "Good morning, Sirius," he called to it.

The rain falls, the grass grows

Outside Harry stood leaning on Draco in the rain. Their trench coats were on and umbrellas up, but they stood, soaked, wondering where Remus was. Harry nuzzled his head against his lover's shoulder.

"Love, where is he?" Harry raised the sleeve of Draco's coat to look at his watch. He was an hour late.

"Good morning, indeed," Sirius sighed, and continued to lacquer his nails in polish.