There wasn't much to say about animal passion. I was too busy experiencing it. The moment I'd thrown my arms around Remus's neck and he'd begun ravishing my mouth, my higher brain function pretty much went on automatic. If asked to describe the sensations flooding through me as his body pinned mine against the wall while he attempted to devour me with kisses, I wouldn't have been able to do more than moan—or whimper.
Beneath my fingertips, his hair felt even more silken than normal. He held my face in his hands as our kiss became increasingly sensual. Caught up in the taste, feel and scent of his skin and the pressure of his lips and body, I barely noticed when my robes were unfastened.
Remus began kissing my throat, informing me in a playfully professorial tone, "A wolf can keep up a pursuit for hours."
I shivered.
He chuckled and whispered hotly in my ear, "When the prey is cornered, the attack is always from the front."
I felt the gentle sucking low on my neck and gasped. "Are you giving me a love bite?"
"Yes. I'll keep it small. Private."
Oh gods, that was so bizarrely sexy. My head lolled to the side while I sagged against him, letting his body support me. I sighed. His lips returned to plundering mine. The bold sweep of his tongue created the sweetest ache. His hands glided down to stroke my abdomen before caressing upwards. My breath hitched. I couldn't take any more stimulation. "Remus, no."
He exhaled sharply and stepped away, looking up at the faint glow of moonlight seeping through the boarded up window high above as he raked his hair back with his fingers. "I never want you to feel pressured to do anything."
"I don't. It's not that I don't want you." His eyes and smile gleamed. I tried not to think about his acute senses and attempted to explain, "I'm just—" Aw, crap, I was no good at this kind of thing.
Remus reached out and cupped my cheek with his palm. "You're not ready, you're not into casual encounters and you want love to be an emotional as well as physical commitment, is that it?"
I nodded.
He smiled. "We have a lot in common."
For the second time that evening, I threw myself at him, this time hugging him tight. "I don't care that you're a werewolf, I only care about being with you." I squeezed my eyes shut, trying not to cry. He caressed my hair and apologised for not telling me sooner, for selfishly wanting me to know the man before the werewolf.
After I controlled my emotions, I sniffed and asked, "Why aren't you a wolf right now?"
His lips tilted at the corners. "Wolfsbane Potion. When I taught at Hogwarts, Snape brewed it for me. Afterwards, because I resigned my position at the school voluntarily, the Ministry put me on the Werewolf Services programme." Wryly, he added, "I'd only been waiting since the announcement of Wolfsbane subsidising." Remus said earnestly, "Wolfsbane does more than allow the werewolf to retain mental faculties after transformation. The potion also impedes the change, allowing me to remain human for quite some time."
I glanced up at the dim, pale light that didn't filter down to the lower levels of the room. "Why do you even have to change?"
His eyes took on a faraway look I'd seen before. "When the moon calls, her children must answer. Away from direct moonlight I can put off transformation, but eventually the need becomes too great, and I run with the moon, so to speak."
"Does it hurt?"
Remus huffed in dark amusement. "Not compared to becoming a werewolf." He took my hands in his. "Under the influence of Wolfsbane Potion, becoming a wolf is similar to the transformation of an Animagus." His brow creased in pained remembrance. "It's the agony of losing your mind, of becoming an animal with no conscience, no thought beyond hunting and satisfying primitive needs, that makes transformations so terrible." Remus's tone and gaze became distant again. "Most werewolves fight the change with every fibre in their shaking bodies, even knowing that in the end, they'll lose."
I hugged him again, trying not to cry. I looked around the bare space. Taking off my robes, I transfigured them into a futon mattress. If I was going to spend the night, I was going to be comfortable. I sat Indian style and patted the black pad. "Have a seat." He hesitated. I asked, "Is something wrong? Do you need to change?"
Remus shook his head. "Not yet." Once seated close by, he admitted, "I may have control of basic instincts, but this situation is very tempting."
"Oh." The predatory way he smiled was making my pulse leap. Saying the first thing that came to mind, I asked, "What's it like, running with the moon?"
His lips curved further at my breathy question and my avoidance of discussing temptation. "When I wasn't on Wolfsbane, I was locked up to prevent harm to others." His expression became solemn. "The next day, I would awaken with the vague memory of rage against captivity." Remus's tone lightened when he shared, "My schooldays at Hogwarts changed that. Dumbledore allowed me to transform in the Shrieking Shack, and my friends would stay with me until the moon was no longer full. With them, my mind wasn't as wolfish, but I remember the longing to run beneath a moon breathtakingly cold and bright, howling with savage joy." My wide eyes asked a question that he answered with a chuckle. "Yes, that's how the shack got its haunted reputation. James Potter, Sirius Black, and . . . Peter Pettigrew were my friends. They were Animagi. James was a stag, Peter a rat, and Sirius—"
"Sirius was a dog," I said in a tone of discovery. "A big black dog would wander into the back garden and play with me when I was young, but I never connected his visits with my cousin's." Laughingly, I confessed, "I used to get so mad at Mum for saying that I couldn't keep him." I broke off, burying my face in my hands.
Remus asked, "What's wrong?"
I groaned without looking up. "I just remembered. Once, I told Grim—don't laugh, he did resemble one. Anyways, after petting him and hugging him, I wailed that my jealous witch of a mother wouldn't let me keep him 'cause she knew I loved him more!" Hearing his bark of laughter, I reluctantly smiled. "Yeah, that's what he did too. Mum was in a snit for weeks. I bet he told her, the rat."
"No, the rat was Peter in more ways than one."
Remus explained how Pettigrew had betrayed the Potters, framed Sirius for his supposed death, and how they had discovered that Peter was still alive. I protested when he revealed that the bastard had escaped justice. Smiling over my vow to help track him down, he shook his head and changed the subject.
In a wistful tone, Remus shared that although he was supposed to stay in the shack the friends had betrayed Dumbledore's trust and roamed the forest instead. Although their presence kept the wolf calm, he had regretted taking those reckless chances in the years since. What Remus missed most about those Hogwarts days wasn't the adventures. It was the companionship. He'd been grateful for friends that became Animagi to keep him from feeling so isolated and lonely. I said, "You're not alone anymore. You have me."
His smile tugged at my heart even while his kisses pulled at inhibitions. Within minutes, I was flat on my back gazing up into hungry eyes. He looked satisfied with creating an equal hunger in me. I ran my fingertips over the shadowed planes of his face. "I think you're getting hairier."
"I can't put off the change anymore." Remus's smile was regretful.
I asked, "Do you mind if I watch? It's not gory like a Muggle film or anything, is it?"
"No, I don't mind, and to what film are you referring? An American Werewolf in London?" He grinned boyishly when I nodded. "Not at all—it's magic, not special effects." Crossing to the other side of the room, he looked up and said ruefully, "Beware the moon." His tone changed, became contemplative, almost dreamy. "I'm nearly there…in the moonlight…running…."
It was very like watching my metamorphosing. Remus, the man, shifted and reformed. His head and body lengthened while his shoulders hunched and his hands curled. Hair sprouted all over. Within moments, a wolf stood in the wizard's place. I sat captivated, staring into eyes that looked much the same as they had when he was human. Maybe it was the pupils. The grey wolf's snout and tufted tail distinguished him from a normal wolf. I thought it was interesting that wolf or man, he had a lean, muscular build and long legs.
We stared at one another until I held out a hand. He dropped down and began scooting forward. I shook my head. "I'm not afraid, you don't have to grovel or do any of that wolf submissive stuff for me." His snout rose. Remus yipped. I smiled. "If you're asking if I want you to come over here, please do." When he came close, I patted the mattress. "Have a seat." He panted like he was laughing. I reached out and tentatively stroked his fur. It was coarse, yet soft. Amber eyes regarded me steadily as I petted him with more confidence. Finally bold enough to stroke his head, I looked into his eyes and sighed. "You're beautiful."
He licked my lips. I drew back. "Remus!" He was panting again, his naughty tongue hanging out the side of his mouth. I said, "Cheek only, please, when you're in this form." The wolf took that as an invitation and laved my face with a lick, lick, nibble, lick pattern of wolfish affection. After that, he rubbed the side of his muzzle against my cheek. I slipped an arm around him, saying in relief, "At least you don't have dog-breath like Sirius did."
More panting/laughter ensued.
We sat in companionable silence until the room became dim. Remus didn't need any light, but I said 'Lumos' so I could see him. "Your eyes shine. Cool."
My boyfriend/wolf stood and did something I would've freaked over if I hadn't watched nature programmes with Gran. He took the equivalent of my muzzle in his jaws. It was a gesture of affection and friendly dominance. Lasting only a few seconds, it didn't harm me in any way. I'd seen a wolf raised by humans do that to the woman who had explained that wolves were very loyal, intelligent, social and playful. Merlin, that sounded like a description of Remus!
"Showing me you're still the man, huh?" He pressed his cheek against the side of my face. I smiled and adopted my own professorial tone. "Did you know that a wolf's jaws exert twice the pressure of a German Shepard's?" My wolf growled a bit. I laughed. "Hey, you don't have to be a Ravenclaw to have a brain full of trivia."
I stretched out on my side, propping my head with my hand. Remus stretched out beside me. I asked him, "Want to hear a few moon facts? You're not growling, so that must mean yes." Like a professor warming to her subject, I said, "OK, I learnt that Muggle scientists are totally hung up on the fact that the moon only measurably affects unbounded bodies of water. Since the human body is bounded, obviously, they dismiss anything that doesn't fit their science as superstition, communal reinforcement or my favourite—sympathetic magic."
He didn't blink.
I grinned. "How nice to have you riveted to my every word." His tongue was hanging out of the side of his mouth again. My eyes narrowed. "You're not threatening me, are you?" He blinked. I stared. "Did you just wink at me?"
His muzzle dipped up and down.
My jaw dropped. "Stars and stones, why didn't I realise that if you keep your human mind you can communicate?" A sudden thought compelled me to ask, "Am I boring you, blathering on?"
His muzzle moved side to side.
I grinned. "Thanks." Impulsively, I kissed his snout before pulling back and wiping a couple of hairs off my lips. "No offence, but I prefer to kiss your human face."
Remus rose abruptly and went to stand beneath the high window. He looked like something out of a painting, or a dream, standing head upraised, listening to sounds my ears couldn't hear. I sat up and hugged my knees, entranced.
He howled. It wasn't deep and guttural, like the ones I'd heard wolves use to reassemble a pack. I thought it must be a social howl, maybe in response to an unknown wolf—or werewolf. Thinking of David and Jenny Dunne, I was glad that the other man was in a soundproof room, contained in a magic circle, and restrained. I wondered if there were other werewolves prowling the city that night. I shuddered, devoutly hoping not.
Eventually, the howl rose and fell with a long slide at the end. I remembered that howl from the nature programme. It was the howl of a wolf calling for a mate. There was a primeval beauty to it, a longing that resonated in my soul. I reached out to him. "Remus."
He stopped howling and turned to watch me, silent and still before padding over. In a strange, unspoken accord, we lay side by side once more. I whispered, "I forgot to transfigure a pillow, so do you mind?" I would've sworn on the Philosopher's Stone that his eyes glinted with amusement before doing that blink/wink thing. I smiled. "I'd kiss you, but you're a bit too hairy, so I'll just say thanks."
Curled up with a wolf pelt for a pillow, I didn't think I'd be able to rest, so I started talking. "Did you know that no two wolves howl on the exact same note? They harmonise, but if two wolves begin to howl the same, one will change pitch."
He growled.
I muttered, "All right, I get it, no more trivia." After several moments of silence, I rubbed my cheek against his fur and said quietly, "Goodnight, Remus." I could hear his heart beating. It seemed fast, but soothing. I thought I'd be listening to the sound all night, but I fell asleep immediately, only opening my eyes when gentle fingers sifted through my hair.
"Good morning."
I was lying in the crook of Remus's arm. I hoped I hadn't put his arm to sleep, but I'd bet that I had. Smiling sleepily and about to greet him in return, I was dismayed to remember that I hadn't used a brushing/flossing mint last night. Not about to treat him to morning breath, I rolled away, off the mattress, onto the floor, and sat up to dig through my denim pockets for the mints I'd stashed.
"Nymphadora, what in the blazes are you doing?" Remus, looking tired and wan, was gorgeous to me as he laughed softly at my antics.
I threw him a mint. "Saving you from dragon breath." I chewed on my mint, feeling the icky-ness of my mouth being replaced with minty freshness. Magic was such a lovely thing. Pushing myself up, I walked back over and dropped to my knees. He rose to his. Returning his wide smile, I asked, "Where were we? Oh yeah. Good morning," and kissed him.
His lips were surrounded by stubble, but they were human, and that was good enough for me. I stroked his cheek while trying to show him through my kiss how much I cared about him. I couldn't say nothing had changed in our relationship. It had. I'd made a decision to be with Remus no matter what. After last night, I felt closer to him than I'd ever felt to Evan. I'd take a werewolf with a beautiful soul over a wizard with a Dark one, and count myself lucky that the man I was crazy about cared about me too.
After another kiss, he looked down at me and smiled tenderly. "I had a dream that you found out I was a werewolf, and you stayed in my arms anyway." He pressed whisper-soft kisses across my skin before kissing me ardently. Remus held me close. "How did you find out? I figured someone you know must've told you, but I forgot to ask who."
My stomach dropped. I took a deep breath and said quickly, "Julia treated me to lunch. When she went to the loo, Evan dropped by the table to show me a photo an associate had taken at the park. He was upset to be replaced by a werewolf."
Remus's harsh expression softened beneath my apprehensive gaze. "He did me a favour by telling you, actually. I'm glad Rosier knows he's been replaced." With a roguish grin, he asked, "What was the picture of?"
I opened my mouth and promptly closed it. Shaking my head, I pressed my lips together for a moment before being able to say with a straight face, "Sit and I'll show you." Within moments, I was straddling his lap and kissing him deeply. His hands slid up my back and then down to my backside. I never heard the door open.
"I've made breakfast, old man, if you're up to it." The cheerful voice trailed off into a bark of laughter. "You're up to something, all right. Who's the bird?"
Turning to gape at the face that looked a hell of a lot better than it had on a wanted poster, I said with a wondering smile, "Sirius?"
The man's head tilted as he looked at me more closely. He grinned in recognition before his brow furrowed. Sirius turned to his old friend and growled, "Tonks?"
.
.
A/N: I used PoA, specifically the conversation in the Shrieking Shack in Ch. 18 and the transformation in 19 as the basis for my depiction of Remus. It's a toss-up who got the bigger surprise this chapter, Tonks or Sirius.
