AN: I guess you all are aware of the frustrating situation with FF.net right now. Although I try to update regularly, the site seems to go offline as soon as I log on … Sorry about the delay, and let's hope for better times.
10. The Concert / Part 2
"Where are we?"
Serene rose on tiptoes to get a better view of the venue but the place brimmed over with excited wizard-folk. She could see trees, and even houses in the distance, but right in front of them lay an open air stage with a semi-circular audience. Most people would sit in the open, so somebody had removed the snow from the seats - doubtlessly with a spell, she thought. The stone-steps looked perfectly clean and even comfortable despite the cold. In the far back of the steps a few boxes - or rather tents - offered a more sheltered seating arrangement, and that was where Claire had booked their seats. Although Julia had offered to provide them with free tickets, Claire had insisted that Winterstorm Inc. should buy the company's usual number of tickets.
Remus pointed at church spire beyond the row of trees, and moved backwards into the shadow of a cloth roof. It was only 5 pm, but the moon stood already in the sky, at the same time enticing and scaring him. "We are in the Muggle park in the center of London. " He tried to remember the name.
"Hyde Park?"
He frowned, then his face lit up. "Hampstead Heath."
Serene shook her head. "I only know London as a tourist," she said, at the same time trying to banish the memory of her stalking Laurel - to scare her away or kill her, if all else failed … "There was no amphitheater of that size in Hampstead Heath. I am certain of that."
Remus smiled indulgently at her. He'd never stop marveling at how well she'd adapted to the wizarding world. To think she'd been a Muggle only three years ago - well, a Muggle with considerable magical talents, but nevertheless a Muggle by her upbringing. And now she'd made his world her own to an extent that he sometimes forgot how strange some of the things she experienced must seem to her.
He reached for her hand. The closer he got to the full moon, the more he craved her touch. Still, in spite of Snape's apprehensions he was quite positive he could persist tonight, if only he stayed under a roof and had Serene by his side.
"There is an amphitheater, but it is kept invisible most of the year by the Department for Magical Conservation. And this crowd," he pointed out the hundreds of wizards and witches occupying the stone steps, "are hidden from the eyes of any Muggle by a multitude of spells, as well."
"And some are even more hidden than others," a soft voice said.
Remus and Serene jerked around.
"Sirius!"
Remus coughed and lowered his voice. "Are you mad? To turn up here, right under the eyes of hundred Aurors?"
Then he frowned, suddenly anxious. "Wait. This is your idea of fun, isn't it? The Fidelius Charm, am I right? You probably turn up every other minute, and crack up laughing about our surprised faces."
Sirius sighed. "Well, not anymore. The fun wears off pretty soon, believe me. How did you know?"
"Well, you would never leave Claire when she needs you, would you? And even when you were on the run the first time, you sent an owl once or twice."
Sirius smirked sheepishly. "You are right. Sorry about that."
Serene gaped at her lover, unsure what he and Sirius Black were talking about.
"The Fidelius Charm?" she asked. "You mean he's been around all the time, only we can't remember?"
Remus nodded thoughtfully.
"Pity is we won't remember our clever conclusions as soon as we turn our back."
Sirius put a hand on his shoulder. "I am sorry, Moony." He could not count how often he'd apologised in the last months, but every time he met Remus he felt as if he'd betrayed his oldest friend. He knew about Remus' decision to stay off the Wolfsbane, had even accompanied him at the last full moon, just like he had when they were boys. But Remus did not remember that Sirius had been there …
Claire joined the small group and smiled at her husband. "I just met a wizard who's son suffered from Prisoner's syndrome. He woke up only a week ago. Isn't this great? He says it was the best Christmas present he ever got."
Sirius drew her closer. They had decided to keep the identity of "S. Padfoot" a secret, although those who remembered his nickname probably suspected him of writing the three remarkable books that had freed so many of Voldemort's victims from the prison of their mind.
"Now when is this going to start," he wondered, deliberately stirring the conversation to an unsuspicious subject.
"Claire, are you sure this is safe for him?" worried Serene. "Even with the Fidelius Charm ... if one of the Aurors spots him and arrests him ..."
"I am flattered to hear you are concerned about my safety," mocked Sirius and received a hard punch in the ribs by his wife. "We have of course taken extra precautions." He pointed at the box. "Over there stands Castor. Tonight he is my first line of defence, you might say. He knows most of the Aurors and will warn me if any of them gets too close. Then there is a handy spell that will thicken the shadows in the Winterstorm box."
Remus nodded. He would be thankful for the shadow himself as soon as the moon rose over the treetops. "And I see you borrowed Harry's cloak." A piece of silvery fabric hung out of the low slung bag Sirius carried.
"So you can put your worries to rest." Sirius could not refrain from mocking Serene.
She shot him a disdainful glance. "Really Black, I am not worried about you. But I don't want Claire to be a widow when this concert is over."
"On this we all agree." The silky voice of Severus Snape made them turn in surprise. "If I was an Auror, you'd be bound and stupified by now, Black," he pointed out acidly. "And if I was a Death Eater, you'd be dead by now, or in Voldemort's non-existing mercy."
Lauren put a soothing hand on Snape's left arm, which tangled by his side. The potion he had developed to numb the Dark Mark rendered the whole limb useless. But with so many of Voldemort's followers present, the possibility of a summoning was too high to take a chance.
Sirius held up his own arm and let it drop like a piece of wood. "See, potions master, I've been good."
"Or rather your wife has nagged you into using the potion," Laurel chuckled at his annoyed face. All of a sudden her eyes widened.
"I don't believe it! How dares this ... this horrible man to show his face in public? After what he did!"
They all turned, and immediately Sirius stepped into the shadows, so nobody would see his face.
"Ben," said Serene, and gave the dark wizard an insecure smile.
Olsen watched from the corner of his eye how Remus Lupin went rigid with barely veiled fury, and had to look away quickly to hide his scowl.
With deliberate slowness he stroked Serene's cheek. The damned Werewolf was only a temporary problem that would be dealt with as soon as Voldemort regained the power he deserved. In the meantime nothing stood against yanking the wizard's chain a little. Ben almost laughed out loud at his own joke. Oh, yes, soon Lupin would be the one to yank a chain - a silver chain that shackled him to a wall in a cage.
"Why didn't you answer my letters?" he asked Serene. He had to admit that she looked more beautiful than ever. The dark circles under her eyes had vanished and her skin had the pearly hue he found so endearing. "I was rather worried."
Serene looked down at her boots. "I meant to ... I was quite busy."
"Never mind." His hand stayed at her cheek, not only because he enjoyed touching her, but also to catch her thoughts and last but not least to infuriate the werewolf. "I missed you. We belong together, Serene."
She sighed inwardly. She had lived most of her life alone, and had prided herself in her ability to master her life alone. Why was it that suddenly everybody declared her part of a relationship?
"I need time, Ben," she mumbled, trying to keep up her psychic shield to prevent him from reading her thoughts. "I need time to make up my mind about what I want."
"But you know what you want," he chided, only half joking. "You know who you are, what you are. And you know what is going to happen. Deep inside you know you are one of us."
Her hand flew to her mouth, and she started to worry on the nail of her ring finger, while Ben kept talking.
"As you are in the company of Hogwart's finest, may I assume you'll return there soon? You really should, it is your destiny after all …"
Remus' blood roared. So close to the full moon his sense of smell improved dramatically, and he could smell the other wizard's desire and Serene's confusion. And she'd started to bite her nails again ...
He stepped forward and inserted his body between Serene and Ben.
"Ah, Professor Lupin," the dark wizard smirked. "And there I was, thinking you were an example of good manners."
Remus' glance would have made any reasonable man duck and turn, and even Ben had to fight the urge to run when he felt the amber eyes burn into his.
"Touch her once more, Olsen, and I swear, I'll rip out your throat here and now," said Remus with deceptible softness.
With a shaky smile Ben turned his head and tugged lightly on the fur-brimmed sleeve of the witch who stood with her back to them, watching Snape talk to a sulking Draco Malfoy.
"Laeticia, dearest, look who we have here!"
Remus paled.
Serene felt a strange anxiety, when the woman gave Remus a dazzling smile and ignored her completely. But before she could say anything, Ben stirred her away from the group.
„Remus, sweetheart!" Laeticia de Malheur smiled like a cat that had her claws out for a particularly tasty bird. She wore a fur-coat in the same deep black as her hair, and managed to look delicate and elegant at the same time.
He did not return her smile. "Laeticia. You should be ashamed."
"Ashamed? Oh my! I quit being ashamed when I was twelve." She licked her lips. "And I never looked back."
Remus took her elbow and led her out of earshot quite ungently.
"Leave the boy alone," he said very softly.
"The boy? Oh, Draco?" The countess gave him a coy flutter of dark lashes. "Isn't he adorable? He reminds me of you … only he is not as innocent."
Remus clenched his jaws. "He is only sixteen, damn it! He is a child!"
"He is Lucius Malfoy's son, " Laeticia replied and looked at Draco who spoke with Snape, a defiant expression spoiling his angelic looks. "At sixteen he has already seen more than you had at nineteen."
"I learned pretty fast in your company. Leave him alone …" Remus' voice lowered to a soft growl and a slight shiver went through the elegant witch's body.
"Oh …" She reached out and traced the line of his jaw with a blood red nail. "It is that time of the month, isn't it, my little wolf?"Remus closed his eyes and tried to control his breath and the urge to transform right there and then. So easy to give way to the beast inside and forget all the human memories. But then he'd probably rip out Laeticia's throat …
"Leave Draco alone," he managed again, although his voice was so hoarse it was hard to understand his words.
"Or what?" Laeticia gave him a little laugh. "After all I am his godmother. I am supposed to offer him guidance, or so I understand. And I am in sorry need of a little diversion." She blew a soft breath into his ear and whispered: "Or are you willing to take young Draco's place?"
Her smile got bigger when she saw Serene approach with a deadly glint in her eyes. Deliberately she placed a hand on Remus' neck and drew his face closer, ignoring his shallow breath. "One word from you and I'll gladly relinquish …
„Draco."
Snape' kept his voice carefully void of any emotion the boy might interpret as pity. He could remember only too well how it felt to be sixteen and all alone. "I am sorry about … Lucius. How did your mother take it?"
Draco inclined his head. "She went to stay with my grandparents. I did not feel like going." He reported the fact he'd stayed in Malfoy Mansion with only the elves for company, without further explanations.
"So who is responsible for you while Narcissa is in Italy?" Severus tried to catch Laurel's gaze. Should he offer him to stay with them until school started? After all he'd known Lucius' son since his birth. It was not that he loved the boy, he wasn't even sure he liked him. Still, he knew a soul in danger when he saw it.
Draco shrugged, outwardly rather bored than polite, while his pale blue eyes turned to ice. "Laeticia is my godmother, as you may know. And Mr. Olsen is my guardian, now that father is dead." A frown disturbed the beauty of the young face. "Since you did not feel you were up to the task, Professor ..."
Snape returned the frown. "What is that supposed to mean?"
The boy's voice had an edge to it that was sharp as a blade. "Father trusted you … until you …"
"Draco, honey, they are about to start soon," Laeticia interfered smoothly and gave Snape a cool nod. "Say goodbye to your teacher. Ben wants us to find our seats."
The boy blushed a little, the curse of his fair coloring. Then he followed the elegant women, much like a charmed snake, until the small group vanished in the crowd.
* * *
While the band entered the stage and, after a short speech from Josh, the bass player, started with an old favorite of the crowd, Remus and Serene stood in a corner behind the tents and glared at each other.
"Why does he want you to return to Hogwarts?"
"You listened!"
"I am a Werewolf, damn it!" He looked around quickly to make sure nobody had overheard his words. It would not do to start a panic, if somebody became aware of a werewolf in a public place, while the moon was as good as full. "My senses are more alert now!"
Defiantly Serene stuck her hands into her wide sleeves to keep them warm. "That was a private conversation and none of your business!"
"Well, I'll make it mine! You refuse to go back there, while he wants you to return …" His eyes narrowed in suspicion. "Is it something about Harry?"
She paled and avoded his gaze. Yes, she had decided to tell him the truth tonight … But not here, not in the presence of half London.
"What makes you think so?" Her voice trembled although she tried to appear calm and unmoved.
"You all but fainted when you thought Claire brought Harry to the concert."
She winced. Was she so easy to read? That was what you got from letting anybody get close …
"Ben is a friend. Of course he is interested in my plans for the future!"
"A friend! You mean, a killer. By Merlin, he is Voldemort's third in command now that Lucius Malfoy is dead." He had not told Serene that on the day of the attack on King's Cross, he'd seen Olsen leave the room only seconds before he had found Malfoy's dead body. "And he treats you like his property!"
"You now nothing about Ben!" Serene felt her mind go blank with fear. As soon as he knew the truth, he'd despise her just like he despised Ben now … "And you are only jealous!"
Remus felt the blood drum in his ears and the moonlight singe what was left of his self-control.
„At least I admit I am jealous!" he snarled. "At least I am honest and admit that I can't bear watching this … this creep … run his hands all over you!"
"He. Did. Not," hissed Serene. „He just ... he kissed me on the cheek. While that vamp in her tenthousand-galleons-cloak almost undressed you! And you enjoyed it!"
Remus' eyes narrowed dangerously. "I enjoyed it?"
She clenched her fists. "And don't think I don't know that you and Laeticia once were an item!"
"An item!" He almost choked. „You don't have the slightest idea about what happened between Laeticia and me!"
"So tell me!"
"Why should I?" His voice was fraught with bitterness. "Since you don't lay any claim on me, you couldn't care less, could you?"
Serene's bottom lip trembled when she fought back the tears. He had her cornered.
"I am not going to discuss this in public!" she steamed, jerking her head at the people milling around the amphitheater.
Remus reached for her arm and let go immediately when she winced at the sheer force of his grip. He let his hand fall down.
"Let's go home and talk this over," he suggested with all the calmness he could muster.
Serene unconsciously rubbed her elbow and shot him a furious glance. "Hardly! You may have come to meet an old acquaintance. But I came to see a concert!"
Sighing, Remus watched her throw back her hair and disappear in the crowd that pushed towards the stage.
* * *
During the interval the band members sat on the stage, tuning instruments, or joined their friends in the audience. The red haired bass player sat on edge of the stage and chatted with his girlfriend and a reporter from the Daily Prophet.
Suddenly he felt a cold shiver run down his spine, as is … something … was very close. And then … something, somebody … whispered in his ear.
The reporter noticed nothing but kept elaborating about possible hidden allusions in Salamander's cryptic lyrics, but the witch laid a hand on her boyfriend's arm in concern when she saw his eyes widen - first in shock, then in pleased surprise. He nodded, once, twice, and then he turned frantically and his hand slashed through empty air.
"Josh?"
When he did not react, the witch pinched his arm.
The musician winced. "Ouch! That hurt!"
"Josh, what's wrong?" she asked.
He smirked, and raked a nervous hand through his strawberry blond curls. "A … ghost … just told me something."
"Something?"
"You'll see. Oh boy …" He looked across the stage where Julia Lupin sat and tuned her lute, her fair face smiling dreamily, her eyes staring into nothingness as she concentrated on the cords. "I guess we are in for an exciting evening."
After the pause, when the band had gathered on stage again, and the audience milled in from the grounds, Josh raised both hands to beg the cheering crowd for silence.
"Ladies and Gentlemen," he gave a mocking bow, "most of you are well acquainted with Salamander's history. Probably better than any of us up here."
Loud applause answered his words. Again he raised his hands. "But only a few of you know, that in the beginning …," he lowered his voice dramatically, "in the very beginning, there were five of us. And five we shall be tonight, again." He flashed a big grin in the direction of the Winterstorm box.
"Ladies and Gentleman, please welcome … Castor Black!"
The audience turned in surprise and so did most people in the Winterstorm box.
Cas, who stood in the very back of the stand, blushed to his roots, and stepped back into the shadows, looking for an escape route..
"I hate you, Sirius," he hissed through clenched jaws. "Four months you are gone without a word. Now you've been back for five minutes barely, and you manage to embarrass me in front of half the wizarding community!"
His brother, who stood very close to him in the shadows, gave him a slight push and a mocking smile. "Pity, isn't it? Trust me, you'll forget about it very soon."
Another shove, and Cas stumbled into the light - and the arms of two wizards, who, believing in a game, pushed and shoved him further on to the stage. Finally, standing in the bright light, Castor found himself surrounded by his former band mates. Only Julia sat on the far right side and ignored the uproar right next to her.
Cas tried to get away twice, but the musicians would not let him go.
"Josh, please!" he begged softly. "I am an Auror now!"
"So?"
"So? I can't possibly play at a concert and sing songs about how stupid the government is!"
"When they made you an Auror, you swore to protect what's good and true, didn't you?" said Helen, the fiddler, with a stern frown.
Castor rubbed his forehead in confusion. "Why, yes, I did. But what …"
"You swore to protect the light. That's what we do. Our songs tell the truth, and you know it!"
"You work into Voldemort's hands!" protested Castor. "By making the people discontented with the government you …"
"It does not need our songs to make people discontented," corrected Josh and put a hand on his shoulder. "We only give them a voice. But if Voldemort ever tries to rise again, the same voice will cry so loud that his ears ring …"
Castor closed his eyes wearily. "You really have no idea, Josh! You are a fool!"
The audience had started to clap rhythmically and was getting increasingly impatient.
Josh looked straight into Castor's blue eyes. "No, my friend. The fool is you." He nodded towards Julia, who still kept her eyes riveted to the far back of the amphitheater. "To find love … and leave it …"
Cas sighed, and the last bit of resistance evaporated. Once more he touched the badge he wore under his robe, then he let Josh force a guitar into his hands and push him onto a high stool. The band fell into a familiar tune. Cas could not turn his eyes away from Julia. The guitar felt like a dead piece of driftwood and he could not remember a single cord, let alone the melody he was supposed to play.
Then the blond witch suddenly turned her head and looked at him.
And smiled.
And Castor Black's heart remembered the music, and his hands found the song all by themselves.
The song they played enchanted the audience with a magic of its own , innocent and gentle at first, then faster and more demanding. It told about life. About pain and joy and sunrises and starry nights. About passing seasons and everlasting love.
Sirius, having stuffed the Invisibility Cloak into his bag, but still shielded from curious glances by the deep shadows Severus' spell had cast over the box, reached for Claire's hand.
"May I have this dance, my lovely?"
Claire smirked and patted her bump. "If you think you can handle the two of us?"
He gave her the dazzling smile she'd never get tired of, and whirled her around.
Laurel watched them for a while, dreamily moving to Salamander's music. The happiness that radiated from the dancing couple seemed to lighten the shadows. It certainly made her smile.
She felt Severus' presence before he spoke, before she could even feel his warm breath down her neck. His left arm uselessly dangling down his side, he drew her closer with the right, until they shared the same heartbeat, in rhythm with the music.
"I won't dance in public," he said softly, and the graveness of his voice made her heart ache.
"Yes, Professor," she smiled. "And if somebody sees you we can still deny everything."
* * *
Remus stood on the far side of the crescent of stairs and tried to breathe slowly. Cold sweat glistened on his forehead. He stared at Malfoy and Laeticia in the front row without really seeing them. His blood, his skin, his very heart seemed to be drawn to the moon that stood fat and bright over the venue. He clenched his fists so hard, his fingernails drew blood on his palms.
"Damn it, Lupin. Calm down," he muttered, and the couple next to him moved away, just in case. One never knew with all those weirdos and bespelled maniacs that roamed the street lately. The wizard with the gleaming amber eyes and the ragged breath who mumbled to himself was obviously not interested in Salamander's music at all, and might be dangerous.
Remus felt his self-control return, though still thin and dangerously stretched by the encounter with Olsen and Laeticia. If only he could touch Serene now, find comfort in her presence ... But he'd never succeed in passing the crowd between them without giving in to the moonlight and the scent of prey ... He needed to get away, he knew it. He needed a forest, a stretch of open land … a place to run. A place without people … without …
He rubbed his face in an effort to get a grip. "A place without prey."
The couple eased away one step further, and the wizard drew his wand, just in case.
Remus tried to concentrate on Olsen and Laeticia. Laeticia was still the Death Eaters' liaison to the dark wizards of France and obviously she'd not lost her taste for the very young and innocent. He shuddered. Though he did not particularly like Draco Malfoy - he knew a bully when he saw one - he did not want him to experience the pain he himself had suffered under Laeticia's elegantly manicured hands. And Olsen - who oozed evil like a foul stench, brushing Serene's cheek, kissing the back of her hand, as if he had a right to touch her ...
A right she must have given him ... or else she'd protested, wouldn't she?
Ignoring the frightened couple, he pushed his way through the singing, dancing, clapping crowd.
Serene saw him hastily leave the audience, and a cold hand clenched around her heart. She'd watched him stare at Laeticia de Malheur all evening long, and what at first had been uneasiness, had turned into anger and then desperation. So the elegant woman's allusions had been true. She'd been the first woman Remus loved - and obviously his feelings had not changed.
Briefly she wondered which of the many tender ways to bring a woman to fulfillment Laeticia had taught him. Had she been the one to show him how to caress with butterflies kisses? And had she been the first to notice how sensible the spot right below his navel was? Had he held back with Laeticia as he did when he made love to her, Serene?
A jealous rage told her, no.
* * *
When Serene arrived at Claire's house, it was past midnight. Since the Ministry had abolished all use of brooms and carpets the night of the concert to prevent hundreds of Muggles reporting the sighting of unidentified flying objects to the local police, she had been forced to take the subway to Charing Cross Road.
The Leaky Cauldron was still brimming with punters, but she managed to slip through them and make her way into Diagon Alley.
The house was dark, but the elf at the door happily confirmed that Master Lupin had returned half an hour ago. Serene climbed the stairs, her anger extinguished by the brisk walk down Diagon Alley in the cold night air. The fury at the sight of Laeticia touching Remus so casually had turned into suffocating fear. Her palms were damp and she paused at the landing to take a deep breath. Only last night she had all but told him to find another woman to love. Now the mere thought of him touching another woman brought her heart up to her throat.
The truth. Laurel was right. Remus deserved the truth, and she could do nothing but submit to his decision. She had dreaded this moment for so long, but now the happiness of those last few days made it easier and at the same time so much harder to come clear. He seemed so certain he loved her ... But would his love survive the truth?
Determined she pushed open the door to their bedroom. The bed was untouched, and only the small pool of light from the lamp on the mantle gave a hint that somebody had been here at all lately.
Then she heard a soft sound from the bathroom. A sigh. A moan.
She followed the noise and like the night before found Remus in front of the mirror. Only now the mirror was but a pile of shards, flashing like diamonds, and Remus held his bleeding hand cradled to his chest.
Serene took in the scene and almost automatically drew her wand and uttered a repairing spell. But the mirror refused to re-assemble.
"Don't waste your magic on it." Remus gave it a bitter scowl. "It would not stop giving comments about my looks. I killed it."
"You killed it?" She stared at him in disbelieve. "You cast Avra Kedavra at the mirror?"
He raised both hands in tired exasperation. "Did you ever pay attention to anything I told you in Defence against the Dark Arts? You can't …"
"You can't kill a lifeless object," she repeated with a mocking smile. "Not even with the Curse." Dropping the mockery she reached for his bleeding hand and raised it to her lips. If only she had a useful talent like Claire who could heal small wounds with a mere touch ... "Now let me tell you something, Professor Lupin. Punching a mirror is not advisable." She kissed the small cuts. "But as they are easily annoyed, to make it shut up you only need to stick out your tongue."
Suddenly hot, Remus could not take away his eyes from the small pink tip of her tongue between her lips. Fisting both hands in her glorious red mane, he threw her to him. Holding her would ease the pain. Holding her would calm the beast. This was all he'd do, he tried to calm the warning voice in his mind. He only wanted to hold her ...
But Serene would not be content with closeness. Her fingertips traced his jaws, his temples, along his neck, as if she tried to memorise his face. An involuntary sigh escaped him when she started to undo the top button of his collar with nervous hands.
"This is not a good idea, ma coeur …"
He tried to breath calmly, to name all magical creatures native to Britain from Z to A. But to no avail. Her touch alone would have sufficed to excite him, but her voice, whispering gentle endearments, left him no chance.
Reason protested. It was too dangerous. Only one night until the full moon … He was so close to turning, so close to let go of the restraints. The risk was too high. If he turned … If he turned with her in his arms … If his teeth so much as grazed her skin, he'd infect her …
He had warned her, had given her so many signs to back off. And still she'd touched him, teased him, torn him apart. He needed her, always, but now he needed her desperately. And when she gave up all resistance, went all soft and pliable under his kiss, he felt elated and ashamed at the same time. Elated to have her. To feel her. And ashamed to know that deep in the shadows of his soul he gladly took the risk of infecting her. To make her like him. To tie her to him, forever.
His arms pinned hers to the door, leaving her unable to struggle and unable to accept or give at the same moment. His iron grip rendered her helpless.
Hot, and almost brutal, his mouth crushed hers.
Serene's body answered his, her breasts against his chest, her soft belly against his erection, her tongue tasting his mouth. And when he let go of her wrists she touched him. Her hands were everywhere, she nipped at his lips, scraped his jaw with her teeth, singed his skin with hot kisses. His blood surged.
Serene tore impatiently at the buttons of his linen shirt, ripped it open and moaned in relief when her skin touched his. This was a Remus she did not know. A side in him he'd carefully hidden. Rougher, unrefined and in many ways more honest.
The civilized veneer gone, it was as if she'd given him a wordless permission to drop all forced gentleness, all restraint. For the first time she had the feeling as if she'd got all of him. The real Remus. Undiluted. Raw. But where she'd been afraid with any other man, she knew that Remus would never hurt her.
A crystal bowl shattered on the floor and the shards mixed with the remains of the broken mirror. Almost unable to think coherently Remus mumbled a spell that cleared the tiles around them of the worst danger.
"Need you," he gasped while he lifted her and slammed her back against the bathroom wall.
She wrapped her legs around him and buried her face in his hair. Her mouth found his ear.
"Remy." Her voice shook like her whole body with desperate longing. "Yes." And then she almost sobbed in relief when he drove himself into her.
He filled her completely, his mouth cupping the nipple of her breast, his arms holding her in a possessive embrace. Her nails raked over his bare shoulders.
„Why?" he groaned when his lips left her breast and claimed the hollow of her throat. He was still hard, still moving in deliberately slow strokes.
"Why tonight? Why me and not Olsen?"
Serene gasped in confusion.
"Ben? Why should I ..."
"You say you are not my life-mate" he panted. "You don't love me, you won't commit to me. So why do you want to fuck me then?"
She could hardly breathe with the white-hot waves racing through her body, and he would not let her come down from the peak his touch took her to. How could she tell him of her fear to lose him to Laeticia? How could she tell him that she desperately needed reassurance? 'I love him,' she thought, when her hot throbbing spread all over her body. 'Why can't I tell him?'
Relentlessly he drove her further, higher, until she arched under him and cried out.
"Because it's different with you …"
Remus' body went rigid. His fingers dug into her hips. His brown eyes flashed in fiery amber, not human anymore.
A predator.
"Different."
The words came strained and rasping.
With utmost effort he eased her down, until she stood with buckling knees, confused about his sudden change of heart.
A tremor went through his body, shook him like a fever. With a painful moan he held out a hand, and the moan turned into a low growl, deep enough to make the fine hairs on Serene's neck rise.
She stared at his hand in wordless shock. Her knees still shook from exhaustion so hard she had to hold on to the door.
Bones shuffled under the skin, changed the shape of the palm. Nails grew into claws. Dark fur … dark fur …
All she could think of was that the fur should be lighter Brown. Grey-streaked. Like his hair …
Remus clenched his eyes shut to keep back the tears. He could not face her. Not like this.
Could not touch her anymore. Could not explain.
The flicker of fear he'd seen in her eyes when he started to turn, hurt worse than the transformation. That, and the one word she'd said …
How could one woman cause so much pain?
But although the beast in him screamed for release, urged him on to make her his own or kill her, he resisted.
"Run," he whispered hoarsely. "Run, little girl."
And run was what she did.
And so did Remus Lupin.
* * *