Disclaimer: I do not own any character contained besides Serena. All other characters and places and stuff belong to JK Rowling. I'm just borrowing them. And running rampant.
Please, please r/r. I'm lonely… Except for the imaginary werewolf in my head. J
Chapter Three
Just before dawn, Remus returned to Twelve Grimmauld Place from Hogwart's. He had spent most of the night discussing with Dumbledore the possibility of him returning this year to teach Defense Against the Dark Arts. The discussion had lasted all night because it seemed that none of Remus arguments against the position had an effect on the Headmaster. And then somehow, Snape had heard that the meeting was going on and had stormed into the Headmaster's office demanding an explanation.
Stupid git.
Despite being generally even tempered, Remus hadn't forgiven Snape for the events that led up to his resignation, and Sirius' exile.
Stepping out of the fireplace in the front drawing room, he paused to brush soot off his shabby robes. He stopped when a familiar scent hit him.
Serena.
He glanced around the room, freezing when he spotted Serena asleep on the sagging sofa. She was curled on her side, her hands fisted by her chin. Her shining fall of dark hair hung off the sofa, trailing onto the floor.
With a soft sigh, he crossed the room, crouching beside her. Face unreadable, he gazed down at her.
What was she doing here? He had done all he could the past couple of days to avoid her, without being obvious.
Her scent was almost overwhelming when he was this close. He was tempted to lean over just a little more, close the distance between them and taste her. Would she taste as sweet as she smelled?
Instead, he reached over her and pulled a moth-eaten coverlet off the back of the sofa, gently tucking it around her.
The thought that she had been waiting for him crossed his mind, but he shook it away. Not bloody likely.
Rising, he went to the tapestry on the wall that showed the Black family tree. Normally, he steered clear of this room, only coming in when he had to, simply because he didn't want to face the ghost of Sirius that lingered here.
But tonight, with Serena sleeping nearby, the spectre didn't seem quite so troubling.
He studied the tapestry for a long while, tracing the lines of marriage and birth until he found the burn mark that had replaced Sirius' name.
He reached out his hand touching the mark with his fingertips. Sirius. His friend. His pack-mate.
"You miss him, don't you?" Serena's soft voice carried across the darkened room, startling him.
He turned his head a little, his hazel eyes gleaming gold in the dark. "I thought you were asleep." He said, his tone slightly accusatory.
She sat up, stretching her arms above her head, her hair falling in a glorious tumble around her face. "I was. Now I'm not."
Merlin's beard, she was beautiful. Her skin seemed almost translucent, her eyes a bright sky blue. With all that dark hair tousled around her shoulders, her robes in disarray from sleeping, she looked like a temptress.
Ridiculously, that annoyed him. "Go to bed." He ordered, like she was a child.
She made a face at him. "No."
"Suit yourself. I'm going." He replied crossly.
She watched as he turned from the tapestry and headed to the door. Just as he was at the doorway, she spoke.
"Molly told me that you never talk about it. Why?"
He stopped, his head lowering. "There's nothing to talk about."
"Remus, he was your friend."
He shook his head slowly. "And now he's dead. They're all dead. James, Lily, Sirius." His voice was bleak. Empty.
"And you miss them." She said quietly.
He was silent. His hands fisted at his sides.
She rose slowly, going to him. Pausing behind him, she reached out, touching his taut shoulder.
He jerked away, throwing off her hand. "Don't touch me!" He snarled.
Serena gasped. "Remus."
His face was contorted with obvious grief. "Don't. Please."
She could see it now, the pain he hid, the sorrow, the utter torment he suffered.
She wished she could take his pain away. Just for a little while. But even she couldn't do that.
Despite his stiff posture, she stepped closer, wrapping her arms around him from behind. She leaned her body against him, pressing her lips to his rigid spine.
"It's all right to grieve, Remus." She whispered. "It's what makes you human."
She was already cursing her poor choice of words when he wrenched himself out of her grasp.
"I'm not human." He bit out, stalking out of the room.