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Summary – At the age of seventeen, Lucius Malfoy was ambitious, ruthless and cruel. Fourteen-year-old Remus Lupin would have done anything to keep his "condition" a secret. Anything. Rated for very strong content.
Disclaimer – Pretty much everything is J.K. Rowling's.
Rating – R for sex and violence. At the same time.
Reviews – flame me, I like pain. Good reviews are nice, too.
Warnings – written on a laptop while staying in a Catholic household, and the pungent odor of blind piety was getting to me. So was the smelly carpet I was lying facedown on. So, it's kinky. Kinky to the max.
Chapter One
Snake
one
Remus ducked into the Slytherin common room under the Invisibility Cloak, which he'd "borrowed" from James' drawer. He glanced around the long green room, looking for Lucius Malfoy. He wasn't there. Remus went on, up a low flight of steps and into a slate-tiled hall. He was holding the cloak very closely around him.
My fourth year is almost over, Remus reminded himself. It'll be done in two months. And his seventh year is almost over, so he'll be leaving the school. Getting married, too, if I know anything about his family.
At the door to the seventh year dormitories, he paused before the heavy wooden door. It was a beautiful piece of craftsmanship, very elegant and cold. The dark wood was carved with an elegant pattern of snakes. The silver handle was shaped like an emerald-eyed snake curled around a rod. Remus removed the Invisibility Cloak and wound it once around his hand, then pressed down the doorhandle, his long, sensitive fingers feeling the intricate pattern of silver scales through the silky fabric. He paused a moment longer, stretching the moment, then entered.
Lucius was in one of the green-hung beds, and not alone. With him was Bellatrix Black, the attractive older cousin of Sirius. Her long, shining dark hair was spread over the pillow, over the sheets, over Malfoy's bare chest. She regarded Remus closely through half-lidded eyes. Lucius, stretching lazily, gave Remus a languid smile. "Just in time," he said calmly. "Bellatrix and I were just finishing."
"Sorry to disturb you," Remus mumbled, a little pink, backing toward the door.
"No, stay, you're not disturbing anything," said Lucius. "We were done. You're right on time. Bellatrix, I'm sure you've met Remus Lupin."
"Yes, her cousin is my friend," said Remus, struggling to regain his composure. He could see the smooth rounded angles of Bellatrix's bare shoulders, and the outline of the rest of her beneath the linen sheet. As in Gryffindor Tower, girls could get into the boys' dormitories, making such assignations possible with a cooperative female.
"I'll just be going," said Bellatrix, casting a scathing glance at Remus, and began to rise. Remus tore his honey-gold eyes away, deeply embarrassed, as the sheet slid down to her Bellatrix's shapely thighs. She reached for her green silk dressing gown.
Lucius caught her arm and pulled her gently back against him. "You needn't go," he said. He held Bellatrix close, but his pale eyes were on Remus, teasingly. "Mr. Lupin has many talents. Don't you, Remy? He's quite skilled with his mouth. He's never used that particular talent on a woman, but we could teach him."
Remus looked down, trembling with humiliation, as Lucius continued. "He's very . . . versatile. On the bed, on the rug . . . face down, face up, on his knees . . . "
"Really," said Bellatrix with a poisonous smile. "How fascinating."
Remus whispered, "Lucius, stop."
"Tied up, gagged, blindfolded . . . "
Bellatrix drew back one slender hand and slapped Malfoy's face. He let her go and put his hand to his face, where the print of her fingers had already flushed livid. He looked first surprised. He never showed surprise. Then he just looked highly nettled.
"He must take lessons from Sirius," Bellatrix said sweetly. "He's quite good at those things too. Oh, and dear Lucius . . . if you ever pull me back again, you'll pay." She gave an impression of meaning it. Rising gracefully, she pulled on her silk dressing gown, which didn't leave much to the imagination either. She carelessly brushed past Remus and exited, shutting the door with a final sort of click. Remus stayed very still, and kept his eyes on the green hearthrug until Lucius spoke.
"Silly bitch," he muttered. "She's in a snit. Probably shouldn't have told her I was marrying Narcissa. Jealous of her blonde sister, she is, poor little brat." His tone was contemptuous. He rounded on Remus. "Does Black sleep with her?" he demanded.
"Sometimes," Remus lied baldly, then instantly regretted his boldness. He didn't want to make Lucius angry. But Lucius merely nodded thoughtfully, pacing slowly toward Remus, who held his ground with a measure of trepidation. This mood could be dangerous.
"And how are you today, little Remy?" he asked fondly, caressing the werewolf's hair and cheek.
Remus shrugged, ignoring the hand on his face. "Fair."
"Good," said Lucius, looking obscurely satisfied. "I hope Narcissa is better than Bellatrix," he commented, with calculated crudity. "I'm not nearly done. Undress," he ordered. Remus was startled . . . usually there was more prelude than this. But he obeyed.
two
It was sheer curiosity that had gotten Remus into this, that and the bad luck to be in the library at exactly the wrong time. He had been looking up a countercurse, something his teacher had mentioned in Defense Against the Dark Arts. Professor Linchpyn had a way of talking over his younger students' heads. Remus was determined that his own head would be right on the level, thank you very much.
He was scowling at the sixth heavy tome when he felt a tap on his shoulder. He glanced up to see a sixth-year Slytherin he vaguely knew. "My name's Malfoy," said the older boy. "Lupin, am I right? Watching your struggles has grown too painful to continue." He pronounced this as though declaring his intention to permanently end human suffering on earth. "What are you looking for?"
"Information on Mortificia's Curse," Remus replied. "Something Professor Linchpyn said."
"Linchpyn's an idiot. Let me see." He tugged the book away from Remus, ruffled through the musty pages. "I tell you now that it isn't in here. Look, it's a hard curse and an even harder counterspell. Even if it isn't in the Restricted Section, I doubt you'll learn anything by reading. Come back to my dormitory with me and I'll teach it to you, how does that sound?"
Remus raised his eyebrows. "No one will mind my coming in?"
"Those who will are all at dinner." He beckoned Remus after him. "Come." Remus followed him as he threaded his way through the shelves. Sirius and James were researching something in a highly mysterious manner. Sirius looked up quickly, frowning when he saw Remus and Malfoy together, but Remus had just waved him back to the book. He really wanted to learn about that curse. He was good at Defense Against the Dark Arts, but Linchpyn gave him little opportunity to use his talent.
They went to the dungeons and the Slytherin common room, then up a low slate stairway to a black-tiled hall. "In here," said Lucius, opening a door for Remus. He closed it behind them too – a relief to Remus, who had noticed the silver handle.
They talked for a while. Remus was pleasantly surprised to find Lucius a clever and refined conversationalist with a fascinatingly detached viewpoint on life in general. They talked for quite some time. Lucius offered him a drink, and he accepted, wondering what the teachers would say. They never even got around to the curse.
They did drink some, but Remus had only half of his first glass. He wished, now, that he'd been a little drunk. It might have been easier.
There came a natural lull in the conversation's flow, and Lucius said, reflectively, quite conversationally, "I know your little secret, Lupin."
Remus looked at him inquisitively. "What little secret?" Inside, he was screaming; but he'd learned icy self-control.
Lucius gave him a polite, silky smile. "Lycanthropy must be quite a secret to keep. I express my admiration for you. It must be difficult to hide it."
Remus was rigid – a predator brought to bay, unsure whether to flee or attack. "How did you know? And who have you told?"
"No one," said Malfoy calmly. For a long time, Remus didn't realize that his first question had gone unanswered. "How would you like to keep it that way, Remus?"
He'd shivered as he said, very softly, "Anything, anything you want. Malfoy, please ..."
"Oh, call me Lucius. You might as well." He rose, stretching, and pointed to the gleaming wooden floor. "Kneel, to start with."
Remus obeyed, almost without second thoughts. He'd said anything, and he'd meant it, mostly. "Lucius, then, please, don't tell anyone – they'll expel me, and my dad will kill me if they do ..."
"Don't grovel until I tell you to. I won't tell anyone if you behave," said Lucius, walking calmly around Remus. The werewolf turned on his knees to watch him, his exotic golden eyes wary. "No, hold still – or, actually, yes, you're right, face this way..." He pushed Remus closer to the bed. Remus still didn't know what was going on, what he was likely to have to do in order to guard his secret. He didn't know until Malfoy started pulling at his robes.
"What are you doing?!?" Remus yelped, not wanting to understand.
"You'll see," Lucius hissed. "Innocent little Remus."
He did see.
Remus would realize later that Malfoy was not attracted to him in particular. He didn't like thirteen-year-old boys specifically. The fact that he was a werewolf was part of the attraction, he thought, but only part. Even the sex wasn't in itself the thrill. What Malfoy wanted was power. He liked having someone wear his invisible collar. He liked having his orders obeyed. He liked having a slave.
That first night, Remus had begged Malfoy to get his hands off. He kicked and fought until Malfoy firmly pinned him down on the bed, and he pleaded and cried until Malfoy gagged him to keep him quiet. When it was over, Malfoy brought him his castoff clothes and sent him back to Gryffindor Tower through a one-way passageway that led from the Slytherin dungeons. It came out in a Hogsmeade tunnel, the one which led into the Honeydukes basement. From there, Remus went to his dormitory, pulled the blankets over his head, curled up in a ball, and stayed there.
Two nights later, someone had brought Remus a sealed note. It said, Come to my dormitory tonight at eight. ---Lucius.
He went. And he had gone every time he was called for in the past two years.
three
Lucius took off his belt and slapped it reflectively into his palm. Remus shuddered. He knew very well what that meant. He didn't say anything, just continued unbuttoning his shirt, revealing a hundred scars of all varieties – some from transformations, some from Lucius, and some from his father. As soon as he was finished disrobing, Lucius pushed him facedown onto the rumpled silver-grey quilt. "I don't suppose I could fold those first?" Remus inquired, not really expecting an answer.
Lucius laughed, trailing the leather strap across Remus's bare shoulders. Remus stiffened, held every muscle painfully rigid. He would not move. "It's amusing," said Lucius. "You talk like a professor." At the sound of the belt, Remus jumped. Lucius laughed – he had only slapped the doubled leather into his hand again.
Remus rose on his elbows to watch the older boy lock the door, both magically and by shooting the heavy bolt. People knew that if the door was locked, it frequently meant Lucius was enjoying himself inside. They didn't want to see that. Well, usually ... Remus burned with shame just thinking about that occasion.
Lucius came back and pushed Remus's face back into the pillow. Next time he heard the belt, it was really being laid across his skin. It seared, as usual – Lucius was fairly strong. Remus just held still as Lucius struck him the first time, and the second, and the third ...
four
The first time Lucius had beaten Remus was the third time they slept together. That was a euphemism, really; Remus was always back to his own dormitory well before morning, often before midnight, and there was never any sleeping that went on.
Anyway, it happened first that third time that Remus came to Lucius's dormitory. It was about nine o'clock, and the door was locked, leaving them alone together. Remus hadn't cried again after the first time.
Lucius was stripping the young werewolf's shirt off, when he asked the question Remus had been expecting him to ask all along. "Where do all your scars come from?"asked Lucius.
Remus hurried with the rest of the buttons – he had learned already that his clothing was more likely to survive these encounters if he took it all off quickly. "Transformations," he said shortly.
"What about these?" With oddly gentle fingers, Lucius traced a long, vertical scratch in Remus's skin.
"Belt," said Remus shortly. It had been a heavy, black leather belt, with a silver tip. That was why so many of the marks still showed.
"Do your parents beat you?" asked Lucius.
Remus glared at him "That really is none of your business."
His golden stare was particularly effective on most people, but Lucius seemed to be immune. He pushed Remus to his knees. "Do they?"
"My father does," said Remus, ready to switch to a different subject.
"Not your mother?" asked Lucius as he began to undress, the better to visit his attentions on his victim.
Remus looked up at Lucius, his face controlled, but his eyes flashing with rage. "My mother is dead. Not that it concerns you?"
"Did you kill her?" he asked curiously.
"No!" Remus was on his feet and lashing out. Lucius, three years bigger and stronger than Remus, forced him down onto the bed. It was surprisingly difficult – Remus was a lot stronger than he looked, and he moved fast. Lucius opened the drawer of his bedside table and drew out a coil of thin rope he'd been keeping for such an occasion. He started binding the werewolf's hands. Remus gasped and cursed as the thin cord cut into him.
"Did you?" asked Lucius.
"No," said Remus, then swore between his teeth as the knots were pulled tighter. "Ah – Lucius, don't –"
Lucius twisted the cords harder. "How'd she die?"
"She took an overdose of Dreamless Sleep potion," Remus said softly.
"I'm sorry," said Lucius, not in the least sorry. "Have you ever killed anyone?" he asked.
"No," Remus whispered. "I – I stay in a cage at the full moon. I always have."
Lucius closely inspected the knots. If he pulled on them in the right places, they'd loosen, but if Remus struggled, they would grow tighter. He nodded in satisfaction.
As Lucius turned away, unbuckling his own belt, he had a thought.. A thin smile curved his lips. "You should learn not to fight back," he told Remus. "I really ought to tell someone your little secret. But I'm feeling generous today," he added magnanimously. "So I'll just teach you a little lesson."
He had never done this before. He raised the belt in his hand, then brought it down hard and fast. The sound it made against Remus's bare back was immensely fulfilling. Remus cried out in pain and surprise. "What?" asked Lucius. "Should I tell someone, or keep doing this?" He waited for an answer.
Remus was rigid. Then his muscles relaxed. "Keep doing this," he whispered.
Lucius smiled, and did so.
five
Remus had decided a long time ago that fighting back was useless and painful, and also too risky – if Lucius was really angry, he might tell someone what he knew. Remus only occasionally resisted anymore. When he did, it was occasion for something really painful, really humiliating. That was when Lucius tied him up, or beat him badly, or did something else especially shaming. Once, when there were other boys sleeping in the dormitory, he'd removed the Silencing Charm cast on the bed curtains – and hadn't told Remus. Another time he'd briefly bound Remus with silver chains, leaving him several interesting marks to explain away to his friends. This was as a punishment when Remus rebelled. So he stopped rebelling.
He soon discovered that the punishments came anyway – when Lucius got bored. Once Remus realized this, he understood that Lucius was after power. Rape was just the form it took. It made Remus wonder about Lucius' relationship with his own father. It was oddly comforting, though, to know that this secret enslavement was based on more than sex.
Remus had often thought – bitterly – that if homosexuality could be considered a disease, then Lucius Malfoy had cured him. Ironically, Remus had once felt stirrings of interest in Sirius. He was well beyond that now. If the usual sex hadn't done the job, these rough nights of harsh, undeserved punishment would certainly have taken care of it.
Tonight was one such night. Lucius hadn't tortured anyone in far too long, and he was furious with Bellatrix Black. It had to come out somehow. Remus felt every ounce of his frustration, mostly on his back. Then Lucius smoothly turned him over and started strapping him down. The pain was worse because it was so horribly close to pleasure.
When he untied Remus an hour later, the younger boy had marks all over his back, and some on his chest and thighs. "You bled on the sheets," Lucius scolded him absently.
"So sorry about that," Remus answered tiredly. Lucius chose not to comment on his sarcasm. Remus dressed quickly and went to the wall, where he depressed the proper panel and looked over his shoulder. "Good night," he said to Lucius. It was a way of asking: Am I dismissed?
"Good night," Lucius replied distractedly. He could go.
Remus entered the passageway and slid shut the door, then leaned on the wall in the pitch-black tunnel, breathing slowly and deeply to rid himself of the bitter taste in his mouth. After a few seconds, reluctantly, he whispered, "Lumos." When the earthy stone floor was lit by the soft blue glow of his wand, he walked along the passage. Remus climbed out of the humbbacked witch and worked his way up to the tower. "Aconite," he said dully to the Fat Lady's portrait. She opened for him without a word.
Sirius was there, curled restlessly into a worn red armchair by the fire. He looked up sharply when Remus came in. "Where were you?" he asked. "I looked in the library, but Madam Pince hadn't seen you, and you've been out all evening."
"Only for a couple of hours," said Remus. Sirius was always overly concerned about him. "I was just wandering."
Sirius nodded – the excuse was believable. "You going to bed?" he asked. There was something in his voice that sounded wistful. Remus didn't know why, but he ignored it. He was just not up to figuring out Sirius right now. If Sirius needed someone to talk to, let him wake James.
"Yes," Remus said, "I'm tired."
"'Night, then, Remy," said Sirius, returning to his persusal of the fire.
He had no idea how much the werewolf hated that nickname. "Good night."
Good night, indeed, thought Remus as he climbed the stairs.
A/N: I tried to keep that below NC-17, but if I've done my job properly it's much worse in your mind than it was on the page. Or screen. Whatever. There is one more chapter, a very, very short one, and not very kinky. Hope you enjoyed. Please review even if you didn't.
This is the first part of a series, but you don't have to read any more. The next one, "Doth I Protest," is longer and has a good bit more plot. That one takes place when Remus is twenty and Sirius is twenty-one. In case you didn't catch it, Remus is fourteen in this one (I know, I know, it's wrong ...) Once again, hope you enjoyed that, and would much appreciate criticism from my adoring (or not-so-adoring) readers.