Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter in any way, shape or form and I am not making any money off this, so please don't sue me. I have no money for you anyway! (Harry Potter belongs to J.K Rowling, Scholastic, and anyone else I may have forgotten....)
Title: Moons and Serpents
Author: OohDeathyum (contact me at )
Rating: PG-13 (SC)
Warning: This story conatins shonen-ai content. If you are uncomfortable with the idea of a Lupin/Malfoy pairing, then I strongly suggest you don't even start reading the story. Please contact me and let me know what you think! If you want more just let me know. If you want me to rot in Hell for all eternity for writing such a bad story, you can let me know that too. Flames, criticism, and comments are welcome!
Remus Lupin sank slowly into the swivel chair behind his empty desk, dropping his suitcase to floor next to him in the process. Leaning his head against the chair back, he stared unblinking at the stone ceiling recalling his memories of his last time at Hogwarts four years previous. Smiling to himself, he remembered Snape's anger at the headmaster for hiring him, and his desperate attempts at exposing him for what he was. A werewolf. Lupin had already forgiven Snape for that account, but he wasn't sure if Snape would be up to seeing him again. He wasn't even sure if Snape knew he was back to teach at the school yet.
As he sat there, grinning to himself over a mental image of a distraught Snape, he pulled open a desk drawer and began filling it with his files of lesson plans that he had accumulated since Dumbledore had contacted him earlier that summer. He was quite sure that if the students could get over his "condition", they would enjoy themselves. He didn't worry too much about what the students thought of him, being a werewolf that is, because he already knew that at least a handful wouldn't mind. In fact, he was very sure that at least three students would be exceptionally happy of his return.
Harry, Ron, and Hermione were now in their seventh and final year at Hogwarts, and Lupin was going to try to make it a little more bearable for them by giving them the best Defense Against the Dark Arts lessons he possibly could. Of course he would have to try harder than he had in their third year, but he didn't see it as much of a problem considering that he didn't need to be the best when it came to Harry.
Glancing out the window, he suddenly realized that it was well past dark and that he had missed the sorting ceremony. Dropping the last of the files into the drawer, he hastily removed himself from the chair and headed for the door, not planning on missing the feast, especially when he was to make his first appearance to the students.
Pausing before the doors to the Great Hall, he stopped to take a few deep breaths to ease the nervous pounding of his his heart. How are the students going to react? He wondered. Lupin was now angry at himself for breaking his promise to the headmaster. He had promised Dumbledore that summer to not be afraid to come back, but here he was, so nervous that he was hesitating to make his surprise appearance.
"Don't be so ridiculous!" He scolded himself. "You are an adult now! Get yourself under control!"
Pushing the great double doors open, he strode into the Great Hall, swiftly making his way between the tables to reach the other teachers. There was a brief simultaneous gasp from the students and then a long drawn out silence, as they realized who he was. When he reached the teacher's table, Dumbledore stood up and briskly shook his hand and beckoned him to take a seat next to him, but Dumbledore himself did not sit down. Instead, he turned towards the students and cleared his throat, preparing for a speech.
Lupin didn't need to listen to Dumbledore to know that he was now recieving a welcome speech. Instead of listening, he stared down at the table's surface, wondering if the students really cared to welcome him back into their midst. After what seemed like hours, the sound of applause invaded his thoughts, signaling the end of Dumbledore's speech.
"Remus?" Dumbledore's questioned. "I get the impression that you had not listened to what I have just said."
"My apologies, headmaster," Lupin began apologetically, "but I seem to have a lot on my mind lately. You know, after the shock of everyone knowing about my 'condition', I fear that the students are going to have a hard time accepting me again."
"Ah, I see...but you have no need to worry. By judging your academic skills, I'm sure you will find a way to use your lycanthropy to your advantage. However, I have an idea that that is not the only thing on your mind. Is there something you would like to confide in me?"
Lupin thought for a moment, but nothing came to mind. "No, headmaster. I'm fine, really. Thank you for your worry though."
At that, the conversation ended, and Dumbledore announced the begining of the feast.
"Alright students! Please seat yourselves quickly! We will begin the lesson shortly!" Lupin instructed his first class.
The seventh year Slytherins jostled about for a few minutes before they found their seats, but their whispers continued on with an occaisonal glance towards their professor. Lupin paid it no heed, and began to scribble a few notes on the board, but stopped when he heard a single voice, louder than the hushed tones of the other students.
"What's a werewolf got to teach us?" The voice seemed naturally haughty.
Lupin slowly turned around to face the speaker. The snide voice belonged to a thin, blonde boy, who was now standing and staring Lupin in the eye. He recognized the boy instantly, especially since the boy had caused several problems back when Lupin used to teach four years before.
"Well, Mr. Malfoy. Why don't you take a seat and find out for yourself?" Lupin suggested lightly. "I would hate to have to give you a detention, especially on our first day of class."
Draco Malfoy scowled. "I don't see why I have to learn from such trash. Besides, what does a werewolf know, and how do we know we're safe from you?"
Lupin closed his eyes for a brief second and sighed. He knew this was coming. "Well, Mr.Malfoy, perhaps you would understand better if you had a detention with me tonight after you eat. Don't be late."
Malfoy cursed loudly, and grabbed his bag. "I'm not sitting around for this." With that, he hurried out the door, leaving behind a few stunned expressions, jumbled whispers, and a few astonished gasps.
Lupin turned back to the board and sighed again. So much for a first day...
Malfoy pushed the door open forcibly and shoved passed Lupin to the nearest desk. Slamming his bag to the stone floor, he glared at his teacher, whom was at the time busily looking over student reports, and continued to stare until Lupin irritably returned the look. What am I doing? Lupin thought to himself, I can't have a face off with a student! He quickly replaced his annoyed look with a simple, but somewhat intelligent, expression of innocent invitation.
"Well, Mr. Malfoy," Lupin began cooly. "I welcome you back to my classroom."
"You wait until my father hears that a werewolf put me in detention," he casually sneered back, putting as much emphasis on the one word as he could.
Lupin placed the reports into his briefcase, and responded lightly as he snapped it shut. "You can't rely on your father very much longer. You'll have to start taking care of yourself now, considering that you are in your final year at this school."
He waited for the pale-haired boy to respond, but unexpectedly, Malfoy held his tongue. Instead, he pulled out a roll of parchment, ink, and a quill.
Lupin looked at him questionably. "And what are those for Mr. Malfoy?"
"Quit calling me that already! That's what they call my father!" Malfoy snapped angrily. "Don't you want me to write lines?"
Lupin smiled to himself. He had almost been worried that Malfoy hadn't responded to his previous statement with a sudden burst of anger. He knew the boy was alright if he was his usually snide self. "Actually, no. Today you'll be helping me clear the boggarts out of my classroom. You see, they let this room go to shambles while I was away, and so, I will entrust you to help me take care of it."
Malfoy suddenly looked paler than ever. "Boggarts?" He questioned.
"Yes, boggarts. You don't happen to be afraid of them, do you?" Lupin inquired with a false look worry on his face. Briskly, he strode over to the grandfather clock beside his desk, which began to totter back and forth.
Malfoy straightened himself up to his full height, and frowned. "No, I'm not. Maybe I just don't want you to-...." His voice trailed off.
"To see what you're afraid of?"
"Nevermind...." Malfoy turned his back away from his professor.
Lupin flashed a fake grin to his back. "Well then, you can take the boggart in the supply closet." Returning to the clock, he flung open the latch and let the body of the clock be exposed. Floating weightless within the clock, was the familiar pale orb; a minute replica of the ever omnipotent full moon. Slowly, he raised his wand and with a flick of his wrist, he shouted, "Ridikulous!" Then the moon dissipated into nothing, leaving the boggart's former home still and empty.
Malfoy watched silently and then huffed disappointedly. I can't let him know...but then....I can't let him think I'm a coward for not facing it in the first place.... Trepidly, he reached out for the closet door, hand shaking as he grasped the cold handle. Squeezing his eyes shut, he swung the door open, hinges screeching from age, and then suddenly, his greatest fear appeared before their eyes.
"My god...." Lupin mumbled. "I shouldn't have...." He dashed forward, in front of Malfoy, who was now huddled on the floor, cradling his face in his hands. "Ridikulous!" He shouted once again, sending the boggart into oblivion.
Kneeling beside the boy, Lupin tried to forget what he had seen, but the image of the dementers performing the kiss on Malfoy's father, while his death mark was exposed, refused to be forgotten. So that's why.... I should have thought this out before I....
Before he could finish his thought, Malfoy threw his arms around Lupin's waist. Lupin was about to protest and pull away, but he could hear his muffled sobs. Not knowing what to do, he gently patted Malfoy on the hair, discovering its softness.
After a few moments, Malfoy looked up into Lupin's eyes, while his own remained brimmed with tears. "So now you know.... My father is a Death Eater...and I'll never be any better than that either...."
Lupin tried to look sympathetic, but he found himself now stroking his students white-blonde hair, instead of simply and innocently patting it. What am I doing?! He's a student, and a boy, he mentally scolded himself. He stopped abruptly, but Malfoy just clung to him tighter.
"Please, " Malfoy pleaded, "don't stop. I mean...forget it. He sat himself up and looked away, completely ashamed of himself. "I'm sorry...just forget I said anything!"
Staring at the boy, Lupin suddenly realized that he was blushing. He tried to cover it up, but Malfoy had already turned back to face him and saw it. Embarrassed, Lupin tried to give a reason for the crimson streak across his face. "Oh, heh. Think nothing of it, it's just that it's really hot in here. Perhaps we ought to open a win-".
Malfoy's lips were suddenly pressed against Lupin's, quieting the professor's excuses. Not knowing what to do, he simply let his student continue kissing him, until he noticed vaguely that he himself was returning the kiss. Malfoy's arms slowly moved up Lupin's back, to his shoulders, and then his fingers clenched onto the back of his robes, slowly but surely clenching tighter and tighter, until Lupin could feel the dull pain of Malfoy's nails digging into his skin.
Returning to his senses, Lupin pulled away. "We can't do this!"
"Wh-why not?" Malfoy stuttered. "I was just begining to feel better!"
Lupin sighed loudly. "Because you are my student and I am your teacher! We can't have a relationship like that. It's perfectly logical. Besides, what would the school think? What would your father think?"
The palid teenager frowned. "That's not it, is it? It's Potter, isn't it? You don't want to let Potter down by doing this with me. You don't want him to be disgusted with you, right?"
The words stung at him. What would James think? Would he even accept something like this? Especially with his son's rival? Lupin slid himself backwards, farther from Malfoy. Pulling his knees up against his chest, he vaguely knew what was going on around him. Images of James torturing Snape flooded his mind and he thought, with a knot in his throat and a twist in his stomach, that if James had known that he would turn out this way, that James would have made school a living hell for him too.
"Why does Potter have all the luck?" Malfoy pouted. "Everybody loves Harry...."
Of course...Malfoy wouldn't know....Why didn't I get that he was talking about Harry? Lupin shook his head. "This has nothing to do with Potter. I wouldn't dream of abusing Harry in this way."
Malfoy smiled. "So you would abuse me in this way?"
"NO!" Lupin yelled unintentionally. Regaining his composure, he continued. "As I have said before, it is immoral for us to...well...you know."
The pallid boy shrugged. "As long as the doors locked with the right spell, no one has to know...."
Damn....this boy just doesn't give up does he? I suppose this means he really is a good Slytherin. He choked slightly over the knot in his throat that was growing every second, as he watched his student slide closer. Three feet...two...one...until suddenly, their sides were touching.
Leaning closer, Malfoy closed his eyes and brought his lips to his professor's neck, nipping at it experimentally. When Lupin did nothing, he took it as an invitation. Lupin had shut his eyes and was trying to soak in what was going on, but found that he really had no objections whether he thought it was immoral or not. Once again, their lips met, but this time, it was much harsher, forceful, and little by little, the boy was losing the only form of innocence he had left. Slowly, they sank backwards against the desk, and by now, Lupin lost his composure and lost his thoughts and sense of judgement.
Suddenly, in Lupin's mind, he saw an image that couldn't have possibly been a memory. James sat against the familiar tree by the school lake, but he was alone. None of his friends were there. In fact, no one else was there either. The image was blurred, but there was no doubting who it was. James sat there shaking his head in disappointment, and Lupin knew why. Slowly, the image became clearer, until at last, Remus Lupin could once again see the face of one of his dearest friends. A tear streamed down his face unexpectedly, and the sudden guilt he felt was unbearable. Then, he noticed a difference in the image. James' face was changing, not by much, but definately different. Now he was Harry, looking overly upset about something. Shaking his head, he let the vision slip away.
"Y-you're crying," Malfoy remarked, completely confused. "Did I do something wrong?"
Lupin pulled away and stood up. "No. You didn't, but I did. This is it. No more." Gently pushing Malfoy off of himself, he climbed to his feet and brushed off the imaginary dust on his robes.
With that, he walked away, leaving behind the cold room, and a young boy named Draco Malfoy.