Details TheSilverSnitch Contest #5 - Emerald Moon - Challenge #4 Remus is feeling old, unwanted and depressed when a secret admirer (Harry) sends him flowers, and other gifts. (keikokin)
Disclaimer Remus, Harry and all the rest do NOT belong to me. Unfortunately. Trust me, if they did; well, there'd be hardly any doubt as to whether or not Harry was going to survive. And copulate. And MPREG would definitely pop up more than once. And… hang on, I'll stop now otherwise I'll keep going all day.
Title L'admirateur secret
Author Kailee
Rating G - Innocent
Warnings Major (F)luff, (O)ne-shot
Summary When Remus comes to France to help Harry restore the Black Estates there, the last thing he expects to find is love. Written for TSS contest #5
RLHP
His hands covered in paint, wearing the work overalls that had a hole just above the right knee, Remus Lupin stood back to view his work. Harry had recently enlisted himself, among others, to help him re-build, re-decorate and re-inhabit the Black Estates in France.
Since the whole place was sentient, you had to get it to trust you before you could make any changes. This part of the Estate was particularly tricky. It was very fussy about who it allowed to make changes to it; the first time that Hermione had tried to remove a hideous old garden bench, it had reappeared the very next day, ratty and tatty, rickety and not moving.
Remus sat down on the newly painted, re-stabilised bench, and smiled. His mural of the group had turned out rather well. There was Harry, at the very centre. Hermione and Ron on either side of him were grinning happily, Hermione's baby-belly just beginning to show.
Minerva, Pomona, Filius and Albus were hovering in the background, each with some sort of gardening/redecorating implement in hand. The Severus in Remus' mural looked particularly life-like, hovering protectively over all of them like a mother bear.
There were others in the picture too. Fred, George, Ginny, Charlie and Molly Weasley; Draco Malfoy, Blaise Zabini and Theodore Nott (draped all over each other); Colin and Dennis Creevey; Winky and Dobby the house-elves. All were present, grinning like mad fools.
And of course, Remus himself was in there. He was off to one side, looking a little forlorn and lonely – which was exactly how the real Remus was feeling. It seemed that everyone who was moving to the Estate to be with Harry had someone to care about, to dote upon. Severus, the old softie, and Molly Weasley had all of them to molly-coddle (no pun intended).
All of them that is, except Harry and Remus themselves. The main inhabitants, the co-inheritors of the Estate. The two of them had done most of the gardening, painting and buying of furniture that had had to be done. They had even found a little place in Paris that would provide basic cleaning and up-keeping services for the main Manor.
"Remus, you have to come see this!" called a joyful voice from beyond the hedge. Remus turned his head slightly and saw Ron Weasley come darting through the small opening in the fence, only to be thrown back out again by the magical wards. Remus laughed, and made his way over to the redhead.
"Tsk, tsk, Mr. Weasley. Didn't you learn last time to be careful when coming to get me from here?" Remus mockingly admonished. Ron just blinked sheepishly up at him, and jerked his head towards the old bike-shed (that is, motorbike shed).
Remus took off, hurrying towards the shed. That old shed was where Hagrid had left Sirius' flying motorbike; what had happened to it? Remus had only checked up on it that morning – they had had a particularly hard frost, and Remus had had to make sure that the paintwork was still as good as new.
When he first arrived there, he couldn't see what Ron had been yelling about. He then took into account the pleased tone the twenty-three year old had called to him with, and took a closer look at the bike; looking for something good, instead of something bad.
Finally, he saw it. There was a little note stuck to the bottom of the back wheel. It read:
You are as beautiful as the new moon.
It was something that Harry said to him in fun, many times a day. Remus wondered why he had put it here, now. He shrugged, and fingered the note lightly. Pulling it free from underneath the wheel, he folded it and tucked it into his pocket. He'd ask Harry about it later.
HPRL
That night, as Remus was brushing his teeth before bed, he heard a light rapping on his bedroom door. Toothbrush still in his mouth, Remus came out of the bathroom.
"Coming!" he yelled, somewhat garbled by the toothbrush. When he at last opened the door, there was no-one there. Only another note, and a bunch of flowers.
Each and every one of these flowers represents something amazing about you.
Remus was touched – though he had been in relationships before, they were usually just the quick-tumble kind of flings that just happened at the drop of a hat. He couldn't become attached, lest someone find out his secret. This was novel to him.
He wondered if this also was Harry, the same as the two notes earlier that day. He discarded the idea after some scrutiny, because although it would be something that Harry would do, Remus just couldn't see the gorgeous young man doing this kind of thing for a lonely old werewolf who used to be his Defence Against the Dark Arts professor.
The second note mentioned had been sitting underneath Remus' plate when he went to clean up after dinner. Accompanying it was a gorgeous sketch of what Sirius' Animagus form had looked like, nuzzling with a wolf and a stag. The note had said:
Love is eternal, whether it be friendly or romantic.
So… a secret admirer. That was definitely something new – especially for a forty-four year-old man. L'admirateur secret. Or, Remus supposed, it could bel'admiratrice secréte.Remus sat down on his bed, holding the beautiful flowers, his toothbrush still stuck in his mouth, but forgotten.
Remus carefully separated each flower, and counted them. There were nineteen in all – nineteen. This person could come up with nineteen different good qualities about Remus? The werewolf didn't think that that was possible.
Suddenly remembering the toothbrush, and the water running in his sink (he had been just about to spit and rinse), Remus rushed into the bathroom. He spat out the toothpaste, rinsed his mouth out and thought. Wiping his mouth on the hand-towel hanging by the side of the basin, Remus studied himself in the mirror.
What could this secret admirer see that Remus himself couldn't?
RLHP
The next morning dawned bright and early. Little birds cheeped outside of Remus' bedroom window, and the sunlight gently brushed at the pale hands lying on top of the duvet.
Remus' eyes opened slowly, to the wonderful aroma of hot croissants and fresh bread. Correction, both normal bread and fresh bread with chocolate in the middle. A tall glass of orange juice, some strawberry jaw and special home-made cheese sat in small dishes to the side of the breakfast tray.
The tray itself was floating a metre above the bed, with another note dangling from it.
For my love, a traditional French breakfast in a traditional French bedroom.
L'admirateur secret.
Remus smiled – so it was a man. That narrowed down the choices quite a bit – there were barely any available men working or living here at the Estate or in the surrounding area. Again, Harry's name popped into his head. He scolded himself mentally while spreading some jam onto the warm bread.
Harry is a gorgeous, sexy, young twenty-three year old man. I am a scarred, lonely forty-four year old werewolf. There is no way that we could ever make a good match.
RLHP
Remus descended the stairs, and was greeted warmly by Hermione.
"Have a nice morning, Remus?" she asked innocently. He glanced sharply at her – did she know about his little gifts? He then scolded himself again; of course she would know. Hermione was practically the Lady of the Manor. She knew everything that happened, when it took place, who it involved and why it occurred.
"Lovely, thank you. Whose idea was the chocolate bread?" he grinned. She winked and left him, calling for her husband.
Harry wandered over to him at that moment, a light in his eyes. "How're you going, Remus?" he asked, truly innocent.
"Not bad, Har'. Yourself?"
"Couldn't be better," he replied. Remus raised an eyebrow.
"Is that so? Why?" he questioned.
"No particular reason; I just feel as though today's going to be a great day," Harry answered with a smile. Remus felt his stomach give a little jump at that wonderful smile – it happened so often now that Voldemort was dead and finally defeated.
"Got a hunch, have you?" said Remus. Harry just nodded, and his eyes flicked to something over Remus' shoulder. Said emerald orbs lit up at the sight of whatever it was, and Remus felt compelled to turn around and look.
"Oh my…" was all he managed to utter. Harry stepped up behind the werewolf and placed a chin on his shoulder (Harry was 6'5 to Remus' 6'4).
"Like it?" Harry whispered in his ear. 'It' was another mural, this one not of those who worked on the Estate, but of other people that Remus knew quite well.
James, Lily, Sirius, Frank and Alice were all grinning happily from the wall next to the one Remus had painted his mural on. Remus was also in this one, but instead of hanging out on the sides, he was front and centre. The caption at the bottom read:
To my mentor, friend and dearest love, Remus John Lupin. The Marauders and co. will live on forever in our hearts and on this wall.
"Who painted this?" Remus gasped quietly. His eyes were quickly filling with tears, and his trembling hand reached out to stroke the faces of his friends and fellow Gryffindors lightly. Harry dropped his hands from where they had been lightly resting around Remus' waist, and came around to face him.
"I did," he admitted, watching Remus carefully. Remus' eyes once again filled with tears.
"Why would you, the most gorgeous young man on the planet -and the most wanted bachelor - want to date me, the lonely old werewolf whose friends are all long gone?" Remus queried, his voice wavering like his confidence. His feet longed to turn and flee.
Harry just looked at him, a grave expression on his face. "I don't want to date you, Remus," he murmured. Remus felt his heart crack into two pieces as he forced a weak smile onto his face.
"Well, then –"
"I don't want to date you. I want to love you, to be with you for the rest of my life," he finished. Stepping forward so that his body was flush with Remus', Harry smiled softly. "If you'll have me?"
Harry's voice sounded so uncertain, so like the child that he had been when he first came to Hogwarts – unwanted and unloved – that Remus had to show him of his acceptance rather than just plain tell him.
The lonely, old werewolf took the sexy, young man's face between his scarred hands and pressed their lips gently together. For an instant, the kiss was chaste, with pure love flowing between the two. Then Remus remembered his relationships from Hogwarts and thereafter, and ran his tongue lightly over Harry's closed lips.
Harry, also getting into the swing of things, opened his mouth and twined his own tongue around Remus', pulling it in. Remus' dominance soon came to the fore, his werewolf side showing its true colours. Remus growled lightly, causing Harry to shiver.
The broke apart to the sound of cheering. Blushing lightly, Remus and Harry turned to see who had caught them. Hermione, Ron, all the Weasleys, most of the Hogwarts teaching staff… even Dobby and Winky were cheering like mad. Ron let out a wolf-whistle, making Harry give a short bark of laughter.
"Maybe we should go somewhere more private?" Harry muttered to Remus, who laughed also.
"How about we have a traditional French lunch in my traditional French bedroom?" he suggested. Harry gazed at him for a second.
"Mine's bigger," he winked, and grabbed his new love's hand. They waved to their appreciative audience, and disappeared up the grand staircase, soon finding their way to the Master bedroom and the king-sized bed there.
Hermione turned to Ron.
"How come I didn't get things like this when you proposed to me?" she grinned at Ron.
"Well, I couldn't really get your advice on how to do it, and you're the only really romantic person I know," he snorted, and swept her up into his arms.
"Now this is more like it," Hermione hollered as Ron swung her around in circles. As we leave this happy scene, the last things we hear are: 'ooof' as Ron's wrist dislocates and Hermione slips to the ground, an outraged cry and huge bouts of laughter.
HPRL
Both of the French phrases(in italics)mean '(the) secret admirer', but the first is masculine and the second is feminine.
There is a sequel to this, called Nineteen Roses. I'll start posting it soon... it's already up on TSS if you're that eager to read it (I'm Kailee there as well). R&R? Please?