Title: The Lupent
Author: Regal Baring
Disclaimer: I don't own, JKR does (which incidentally means no profit for me), I just twist them for my wonderful, evil pleasure.
Pairing: HP/SS, HP/RL
Warning: AU, explicit slash, homoerotic content between men!
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Chapter 2
The Summer Hols
On August third, only a few days after his first transformation, Harry was once again secluded in the attic, his Changing occurring on the real New Moon. Remus once again accompanied him during his transformation.
He felt the sweltering heat coil inside of his bones again, and he gritted his teeth helplessly. His senses were on fire, his nose twitching with the impact of several smells conflicting for precedence, and as Remus hovered close by, he could smell the wolf inside of the man.
"Remus," Harry panted, "it's so hot."
"I know Harry, its okay. Just relax, don't fight the change," Remus whispered encouragingly while keeping his eyes carefully averted.
Harry's hair grew thicker, sprouting across his naked body, the black morphing into a pale cream color with hints of red. His bones cracked, his legs lengthened and grew thicker, his body reformed, and in only a few more moments, an adolescent Lupent stood proudly in the dawning sunlight.
"Harry," Remus said softly, "you look brilliant."
The Lupent nodded its head regally, sniffing cautiously at the air before slumping once it recognized the room. Prowling despondently around the room, it irritably swung its paw at a broken chair stashed in the corner of the room.
The Lupent settled on its belly, gnawing curiously on the leg of the chair while his fluffy wolf tail swished through the air in a decidedly feline way.
"I know, I'm sorry you're going to be bored all day," Remus said, shrugging apologetically and settling against the wall.
The Lupent grumbled before cracking the leg between his jaws in one smooth snap.
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The next few weeks passed along rather harmlessly in Harry's opinion. It was almost…anti-climatic. It was the middle of August, and as he began to feel like the school year was looming ever closer, Harry grew edgy and snappish for no real reason he could discern. Though he knew he shouldn't take it out on poor Remus, who had been rather calm despite Harry's attitude, he could hardly contain his feelings of ill will.
The morning of the full moon dawned like any other day. Harry knew that the new moon was drawing ever closer and it would only be another few weeks until it arrived at the beginning of next month, which also happened to be when school resumed. Dumbledore had already made arrangements for Harry to be taken to school early, skipping the train in lieu of a well-protected room at Hogwarts.
But on this particular morning he felt rather…nice. He had noticed his hormones had kicked into high gear recently; for example, while his chest hair was almost non-existent, the rest wasn't as sparse as it was before. He had also had a growth spurt, growing another inch or so, but he knew he would always remain rather small. While it wasn't much to brag about, he felt rather proud all the same.
He had almost become worried over the past year: wouldn't it be just like him to be a freak even with his hormones? He hadn't really felt the pull of attraction Ron seemed to be consumed by, only vaguely aware of the opposite sex in a sort of abstracted way. When he had turned fifteen, he had felt like he had had the libido of a first year but with a bit more frustration when he woke up with sticky sheets and hazy memories.
His dreams had become rather odd in the past few months as well. No longer did he blushingly dream of the girls in his year (though he had never totally felt that way, he was still normal he consoled himself), but had become rather taken with a pair of broad shoulders, and found himself leaning more towards auburn colored hair in his fantasies.
He woke up after a particularly vivid dream dealing with that sweet, invigorating scent that had regularly begun to invade his subconscious. He had imagined he and Moony had been chasing each other through the Forbidden Forest during the full moon; of course, it could only be a dream, Harry thought agitatedly, for he could never change during the evening. It was only during the day, he remembered, that he would have his transformations while the moon was hidden.
As he was gradually awakened, he found himself already at half-mast and casually stroking his prick through his pajamas. He unconsciously gripped it tightly with his right hand through the soft flannel, rubbing it roughly, and the friction was delightfully warming against skin already tender and flush with his blood.
He moaned softly, trying to keep his voice down as he finally surrendered to the urge and released his aching cock from the restraints of his clothing. He panted harshly when the sudden burst of cool air brushed its invisible fingers across the shining, angry head of his penis. He watched, fascinated, as the flushed skin of his prick tightened, the veins pumping his blood thick with arousal. He could feel his testicles tightening painfully in impending orgasm when he began pumping with increasing fervor.
Licking his lips, he arched his back, thrusting into his fist fiercely and shivering at the pleasure pooling in his abdomen, the muscles in his thighs quivering as he bucked off the mattress. With his eyes closed, he imagined a faceless, shapeless body watching him from the doorway, the scent of dark arousal wafting upon the air and inflaming his heightened senses. Slowly, his imagination took shape, with brief flashes of auburn hair graying at the temples and honey colored eyes gleaming from the darkness, a hoarse moan of approval…
"Ohh," he groaned suddenly, surprising himself. "So good, so…Remus, oh god, Remus!" Shuddering, he clenched his fist, and with only a few more tugs and thrusts, he spurted his climax across his belly and hand, still twitching with the orgasm ripping through his body.
"Merlin," he mumbled, quivering in his afterglow and his mind going dim, "that was brilliant."
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Remus had casually been on his way to wake Harry up for breakfast when he heard the breathy moans and the sensual shift of the sheets echo eerily quiet from behind the closed door. He knew it was only his acute senses that enabled him to hear the intensely private experience of Harry pleasuring himself, but he had froze upon hearing the first groan of passion.
The rational part of Remus knew he should leave, should allow Harry the privacy that the moment demanded, but the wolf in him howled his displeasure at the thought. The werewolf inside insisted he fly through the door, pin Harry to his bed, and pound into his tight, virgin body with reckless abandon.
Caught between his conflicting emotions, he could only lean against the wall, his ear cocked in reluctant excitement and his hand tentatively moving to cup his erection. He silently willed it to disappear, to save him the humiliation of the knowledge that he lusted after the son of his dead friend, but he couldn't move. His body refused to obey him as it always did near the coming of the full moon, and he could no longer deny his desires. Sighing in part-defeat, disgust, and relief, he slipped his fingers quietly underneath his robes, rubbing his erection within his hand and arching his body against the wall.
When he heard Harry start moaning in his adolescent-cracking, lust-filled voice, he couldn't restrain himself. He slapped a hand over his mouth while he bucked wildly into his own hand. How pathetic, he wanted to scream at himself. You're wanking to the sound of Harry and you love every minute of it. He wanted to hit himself, to knock some sense in his own mind, but all he could feel was how his cock hardened incredibly more at the sound of Harry climaxing.
"Remus…oh god…Remus…"
With a silent groan of revolted pleasure, his own orgasm pooled low in the base of his cock, his testicles drew up with relief while his spunk was thrust out in twitching waves inside of his robes, and he now resembled the teenager that Harry was.
"Merlin, what am I doing?" he cried to himself, shakily pulling his robes tighter around his body while he rushed down the hallway and locked himself in the nearest bathroom with a sob of pure torture. He tried not to think of what Harry was doing calling out his name, but the horribly erotic sound of the sixteen year old crying out "Remus!" kept replaying in his mind.
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As Harry rode out the last of his pleasurable wake-up call, he thought he heard a muffled groan outside of his room, but when he fell silent, he heard nothing more. With a mental shrug, he got up and stretched languidly, smiling wryly at himself. He tried not to think of the name he called out during his orgasm. It was just too weird. Maybe it was just because he was worried that Remus would catch him…yeah, that was it, he was just trying to be quiet so Remus couldn't have heard him, and it accidentally came out while he was…doing that. He tried to ignore the niggling doubt and ended up shoving it to the back of his mind before grabbing his towel, a change of clothes, and heading down the hall to the bathroom.
But when he tried the handle, he found it locked. Frowning, he hesitantly tapped on the door, asking, "Prof-Remus? Is that you?" He immediately wanted to smack himself for asking such a stupid question. Who else could it have been - Snape? Bloody hell Harry, what a way to show him how mature you've grown.
Remus quickly wiped his face with the palm of his hands before turning on the tap to splash his face with ice cold water. It bought him a moment to clear his throat distractedly while trying to get rid of the blush staining his cheeks. Glancing down, he grimaced when he noticed the evidence of his previous arousal staining the front of his robes, and with a quick wave of his wand, got rid of the sticky fluid.
"Yes, Harry, it's me. I'll be right out," he answered, trying to sound as calm as possible.
"Oh, it's okay, I can wait Remus," Harry said, sounding wonderfully sated. When Remus' groin showed its interest in stirring up eagerly at the husky sound of Harry's voice, he gave it a glare that hastily wiped its hardness away.
Instead of answering the boy, Remus nonchalantly opened the door to find Harry leaning against the wall with a small smile playing about his lips. He automatically smiled back, moving out of the doorway with the intention of letting the boy sidle inside. But Harry held back a moment, looking deeply into his eyes and searching his face.
"What's wrong, Prof-Remus?" he asked finally after a moment of staring.
"Nothing to be worried about, Harry. Just…nightmares," Remus replied, almost inaudibly.
Harry nodded his head sympathetically. He would know all about those, after all. Harry visibly hesitated a moment, before reaching out a hand and settling it on Remus' scarred forearm. "I'm sorry, Remus, if I'm making it harder on you."
Remus sent him a startled glance, before shaking his head tiredly. "Please Harry, don't start that. You know I love having you here for the summer."
Harry gave him a small smile. "You mean that Remus?" he asked hopefully.
"Of course Harry," Remus answered. "If you hadn't come, I'd only be moping around." He softened his words with a strained smile, thinking silently, but now I'm just listening to you masturbate behind closed doors. How bloody pathetic can I get? Sirius would be ashamed of me.
"Well, I'm glad," Harry said, frantically searching for something else to change to subject. But before he could open his mouth, Remus gave him a quick smile before mumbling something about breakfast and hurrying away. Harry sighed in irritation; he hadn't wanted to scare the man off, but he really wasn't as coherent as he'd like the morning.
His shoulders slumped and he stalked through the door, intent on taking a long hot shower - and then perhaps a cold shower as well. Hopefully that would jumpstart his body into having a few more reactions than a renewed erection that had mysteriously appeared while he had been waiting for Remus to emerge.
As Harry prepared to step under the spray of water he was inundated by guilt.
What would Sirius think about me, wanking to thoughts of his best friend and lover…he would be so ashamed of me.
He tried to clear his mind of the depressing though, and in desperation he turned to his struggling erection. He promised himself he wouldn't think of Remus this time.
Yet somehow he knew it wasn't going to be as easy as he hoped.
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When Harry finally made it down for the belated breakfast, Remus was beginning to become worried when Harry refused to look him in the eye and made only noncommittal remarks to his queries.
"Are you okay Harry? Have I…upset you?" Remus finally tried to ask diplomatically after a long, rather tense silence.
"No, I'm fine…I just…feel different today, you know?" Harry answered finally after he took a moment to decide on his words. He looked uncomfortable and irritable; like a normal teenager, Remus thought with a sudden fond grin.
"Well Harry, you've changed. It was a big step in your development, and your hormones will be increasing and fluctuating until they can settle down," Remus began, adopting his best 'I'm-a-teacher-and-I-know-what-I'm-talking-about' voice. Hopefully that would distract both of them from the awkward silences that were beginning to fall flat between the two of them.
Harry shrugged, still annoyed. "Well, whatever, they're bloody annoying."
"It'll pass soon enough," Remus said, trying to soothe the boy's proverbial ruffled fur.
"Well, it won't really matter in a few years, will it?" Harry sneered, his tone suddenly turning ugly. "Look, I know I'm just a kid to you, but you don't have to talk to me like I'm five."
"Stop it, Harry," Remus growled low in his throat, startling both of them. "Stop taking your bad mood out on me. I'm trying to make it easier for you, but there's no need for you to abuse the offer."
Harry flushed angrily, turning his face sharply away from the man and exposing the faded Snape-handprint on his cheek. It must have been forgotten in the shuffle of his change, but it was surprising that it was still visible. It really should have been healed by now (whether naturally or magically) and Remus was about to offer to heal the bruise, when Harry abruptly climbed to his feet and stormed out of the room.
Remus grunted in annoyance, his anger at the boy's lack of discretion chafing his irritated emotions. It felt like he had been thrown into a whirlwind of flaring tempers lately, and it was starting to get to him. But he finally just sighed heavily and with a wave of his wand, began to do the dishes.
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Harry climbed the stairs rapidly, skipping every other step and huffing in resentment at the sting of remorse he felt. It was becoming an all too familiar emotion lately, and he was sick and tired of feeling the blame. He opened the door to the attic, stepped inside, and slammed the door with a satisfying thump.
He paced back and forth across the bare floorboards, his hands clenched while his emotions roiled inside of his stomach, causing his chest to burn painfully. He hated this! He hated being trapped inside this house with condescending adults; if this was how Sirius had felt, no wonder he had rushed headlong into an adventure sure to promise death. After all, if he had to be alone in a house he hated surrounded by good intentions, he'd have gone crazy long before Sirius had. Going from freedom (of a sorts) by living on the run, and then shoved into a box for his own safety…Merlin save them all if they tried to do that to Harry.
He might as well go waltzing up to Voldemort and ask him to put him out of his misery if they kept this up…
He immediately felt ashamed of himself once again. Merlin, he hated this feeling. He'd rather feel nothing, like he had when he had spent the beginning of the summer with the Dursleys. They had left him well enough alone except for the occasional chore; Harry had the impression that they had been afraid of him, not that he cared one way or another. He wished he were still there for the first time since he had been introduced to the wizarding world.
Thoughts of the Dursleys had the ironic effect of calming him down, his ire at Remus cooling as quickly as it had come on. He sat on the floor underneath the window, the sun already up and heating the attic quickly.
"I wish I were someone else," he whispered, looking upwards toward the slanting ceiling.
"You don't want that, Harry," Remus said softly from the doorway. He had followed the boy up soon after, unwilling to leave things strained and tense for the rest of the day. He had just caught the end of the boy's statement, and automatically spoke without thinking.
Harry looked over, unsurprised to see the man standing there in the doorway, the light outlining his thin, wiry body in full glory. He could almost feel his mouth beginning to water at the image.
"Don't think like that, Harry," Remus whispered. "You will only torture yourself."
Harry just stared at him, his green eyes dull in the afternoon light. "I wish I had been someone like Sirius, so that I could have had friends like you and dad."
"I am your friend, Harry. I'm here for you," Remus said intensely, staring hard at the boy in front of him. "Besides, you have Ron and Hermione as well."
"No…it's just not the same, Pro-I mean, Remus. And I know I'm just a kid to you, and I want to be more than that," he said, looking down at his worn trainers absently.
"Well, what do you want, then?" Remus asked, suddenly feeling as if his own voice was strangling him. He tried not to picture how Harry must have looked calling out his name during his climax.
"I guess I just want what Sirius had…" he whispered, seeming to have startled himself as well with his wish, and he immediately twisted his body around to stare out the window. Harry didn't look embarrassed really, only wistful. His exhaustion of mind and body had to be catching up with him; all the anger he had steadily been storing up was taking its toll.
Remus was silent, his breath caught in his throat. He felt as if he were living in a dream, hearing what Harry was saying but unable to process the meaning behind it. "I-" he tried to say, but choked.
"I'm sorry to have surprised you, Remus," Harry said grimly. "I never meant to make you uncomfortable." He sounded truly apologetic.
"I'm…not uncomfortable, just a bit stunned. I mean, you had only found out about Sirius and I a little while ago…it's just very quick," Remus amended, but winced at the darkening expression on Harry's face. He was handling this badly.
"You think I'm just trying to replace him with you, don't you?" Harry asked his voice low and strained.
"Well, I wouldn't rule out the possibility," Remus tried to start tactfully.
"I've wanted you for a while now," Harry said his tone conversational. "But I don't think I even realized it myself. It was always just in the back of my mind."
"You're probably just confused," Remus tried to intervene, but Harry would not allow himself to be stopped. After all this time, he was finally saying what had been stored up inside of him for the time he had spent trapped inside of the house.
Harry just continued on as if he had never spoken. "But I never knew you were gay, and I was too shocked to even imagine that you could be...like me. Besides, I always thought that this feeling was wrong, even…this morning. I thought it was all wrong," he said, trailing off into a whisper, his fists clenching in self-loathing.
"I am sorry, Harry. It's not about you being a homosexual or not. But you are a boy, and I am a man. It would not be appropriate," Remus said stiffly, mentally berating himself but unable to stop the defensive words. When he thought of this morning's voyeuristic peeping, he winced and flushed uncomfortably.
Harry ran rough fingers through his mussed and still damp hair. "I mean, I don't even know what I want, but I know that there should at least be a chance to find out, even if we have to wait awhile."
"I-I couldn't say, Harry," Remus answered unsteadily. "It's too soon to tell right now. I mean, Sirius just died, I couldn't possibly-"
"I understand Remus," Harry assured him, suddenly calm now and smiling through gritted teeth. "But I think it would be best if you left me alone for a little while."
Remus could say nothing to that; he left as quietly as he had arrived.
I've killed Sirius, and Remus could never want me. I'm such an idiot. I wish I could just disappear.
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There had been apprehensive air in Grimmauld Place for the past few days now, and it didn't seem to be abating. Remus' transformation occurred on the full moon, and though he had taken the Wolfsbane Potion, he chose not to be around Harry, though the werewolf inside of him was howling his dismay. He wanted more of that spicy, animalistic scent Harry had begun to exude but Remus could only make due with settling in the attic, breathing in deeply the lingering smell of the Lupent.
Downstairs, however, Harry was trapped in the magically enhanced and spell-dampened cellar with Professor Snape, shivering from the dampness and close proximity with the man he had almost killed. He had finally pulled the rest of the story out of Dumbledore, much to his disgruntlement, but they had made a deal. He wanted to know what had really happened, and in exchange he wouldn't complain about the Occlumency lessons.
"Legilimens," Severus said, delightfully tearing into Harry's mind.
A young Harry Potter being chased up by a tree with the snapping jaw of a barking dog tearing his pant leg…
Harry suddenly finding himself up on the roof of the school without knowing how he had gotten there…
Harry with his hands placed on Snape's throat and squeezing with every intention to kill the man that had made his life so miserable…
"No!" Harry roared, finally pushing Snape weakly out of his mind with an Ice hex directed toward the man's wand hand.
"I don't want you to attack me, you idiot boy. Break free with your mind. Now, try it again. Legilimens," Snape barked.
Cho Chang huddling close to Harry, tears streaming down her face while she gave him a wet, sobbing kiss…
Harry listening to Hermione ramble on about doing his Potions homework…
Drawn into the mind of a Lupent that had stuck its nose into Remus Lupin's crotch, sniffing for that wonderfully dark smell…
"Damn it," Harry growled, flushing crimson, his eyes trained on the ceiling while he lay sprawled out on the cold stone floor after he had forcefully ripped his mind away from Snape's.
"Why Potter, I never would have guessed you'd-"
"Just shut it, Snape. Forget you ever saw that," he mumbled in frustration, but the red staining his cheeks ruined the effect of cool confidence he had wished for.
Snape smirked maliciously, shrugging slightly as he replied "Why would I let something so deliciously embarrassing to a Potter slide by without saying something?"
"Because maybe for once you'll have the decency not to tease me about something so personal," Harry retorted angrily, still resting on the floor, his muscles cramping painfully. Snape pretended not to notice his pained grimace.
"Potter, it would be my undying pleasure to tease you unmercifully for the rest of your life about what I just saw," Snape said with a real smile in his eyes and his lips twitching with repressed amusement.
Harry simply sighed, missing the real laughter on the man's face luckily or he would have surely died of shock on the spot, and lifted himself off the ground to stand up to the Potion master like a man. He imagined throwing a punch to the man's eye before he fell flat on his face as his muscles gave a particularly savage twitch.
Snape snorted in disbelief before sighing audibly. Harry watched as Snape strode forward, extending a hand to grasp his arm and pull him roughly to his feet.
Wheezing, Harry fell forward into Snape's body weakly, supported by the man he abhorred most in the world. He forced himself and his newly awakened sex drive to ignore the hard body pressed against his own.
Snape sneered down at the boy, saying spitefully, "You are as weak as a first year, Potter. Get off of me."
Looking affronted Harry tried to stand on his own, but found his legs wouldn't support his weight and rumbled low in his throat in dismay. The lessons and their subsequent after effects seemed even worse than last year when Voldemort kept slipping into his mind. Luckily he hadn't had many visions this year, as Voldemort seemed content to lie low for the time being. Yet Harry had no doubt he would show up at the most inconvenient time.
Irritated, Snape transfigured a spare piece of wood lying in a corner on the stone floor into a chair, swept the boy up into his arms, and practically threw Harry into the seat.
"Thanks a lot, Professor," Harry grumbled, shifting to rub his bruised arse and find a more comfortable spot.
"I should have just left you on the floor if that's the sort of appreciation I'm going to receive," Snape muttered, eyes narrowing.
Harry felt it was safer not to respond, and decided to take a look around since he hadn't had the time when he first entered. All Snape had done was take one look at him, attack with Legilimency, and he had been rolling around on the floor the rest of the evening.
It was dimly lit with a single scone and two candles, and was extremely damp – the perfect environment for a vampire he silently snickered. A cool breeze seemed to waft from the darkest corner of the room, creating a chill in the air. There was a large stack of boxes near the back of the large room, haphazardly piled and balanced precariously. It seemed the cellar was being used as extra storage space since the attic had been cleaned out for Buckbeak's – and now Harry's – use. He could feel Snape's stare boring into him, but refused to look at the man that could make him squirm with one glare of those intense near-black eyes.
Severus watched keenly as the boy slowly took stock of their surroundings, not very interested, but seemingly more as a way to pass the time rather than make eye contact with him.
"Why did you not attack me in your Lupent form, Potter?" Severus abruptly asked breaking the tentative silence that had descended upon the room as Harry recovered. Snape knew that chocolate would speed the process up, but wasn't concerned with the boy's health.
Harry shrugged gamely saying, "It didn't seem to feel like you were a threat. It liked your scent."
"But I am a full-blooded human," Snape said thoughtfully, his eyes hooded and gleaming in the darkness of the room.
"Are you sure about that?" Harry smirked nastily.
He quickly squelched the expression, clearing his throat hastily before responding, "You smelled…I don't know it's hard to explain." Harry sighed, and Snape noticed he still dared no to glance over at him.
"Try!" Snape ordered, imperiously sweeping his arms together, his stained fingers tapping against the sleeve of his robe.
"You smelled dark, okay? There was something about your smell that let me know there was no threat. Humph, seems the animal was wrong though," Harry said bitterly, rubbing the cheek that had held the bruised handprint previously. Snape knew the Headmaster had found out about the lingering wound and had immediately healed it. Nobody had mentioned it since, except for the insolent boy sitting cockily in front of him.
Snape didn't have the decency to even appear abashed at Harry's acid tone. "How can I smell dark? It's a color, not a scent," Snape said bitingly. "What does Lupin smell like?"
"By dark, I suppose I mean rich…and, uh, sorta thick. But there are different, er, levels to it, I think. Like Remus, he smells sweet. But you smelled like citrus and it was sort of sharp. Like it made my nose tingle," Harry said, obviously trying to answer as coherently and patiently as possible. Snape delighted in sneering, letting him know he had gotten his point across, but with no sort of elegance whatsoever.
"Does it suppress the animal inside of you?" Snape asked his eyes trained squarely on the uneasy boy in front of him.
"No, not really. It merely makes it calm, like the urge to attack something is less," Harry answered, finally turning to look at the man with a sulky look in his eyes. "It just makes me a little less of a beast than usual."
Snape did not refute that statement. "Where was the strongest point of the smell coming from?"
Harry blushed and would not to answer.
"I suppose it was where you stuck your nose earlier, wasn't it?" Snape asked with narrowed eyes. "You're lucky you didn't try to do that to me," he said with a dangerous glint in his eye.
Harry only blushed harder. It seemed to Snape it hadn't been for lack of desire, then, as he remembered pushing an eager Lupent head away from his legs multiple times.
"Professor?" Harry asked after a few moments of silence, startling Snape out of his reverie he had slipped into thinking hard about the scent information.
"What, Potter?" he spat, annoyed at the interruption.
"Do you think you could make a potion for me like the Wolfsbane?" he questioned quietly, staring down at his hands that had recently held elongated claws that could disembowel a man with a single swipe.
Severus stared at the boy a moment, before answering slowly. "The Headmaster has already asked me that but I told him it would be quite difficult. It is an entirely different mixture of minds, though there are striking similarities to a werewolf. But there is only two species to consider in a werewolf: there is man and there is wolf. But in the Lupent, there is man, feline, and wolf and many of the properties can not be combined successfully without negating another ingredient."
"Oh," Harry said, looking downcast. "I see."
"But, that doesn't mean I'm not trying," Snape said sharply. "It would be a great discovery, and one that would do well for my career."
"What career?" Harry asked thoughtlessly. "I thought you were just a teacher."
Snape narrowed his eyes dangerously, and his voice was bitterly cold when he spoke next. "Get out Potter. We are through for the evening."
Harry knew he had blundered, but did not try to retract his statement. He merely gave the man a nod, stood unsteadily, and carefully made his way out of the cellar without a backward glance.
He did not feel guilty for once.
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The next morning, Harry had breakfast alone, and since there was no new house elf in Grimmauld Place after what had happened with Kreacher (who had mysteriously disappeared after Sirius died), he was forced to make it himself. But after all the practice he had gained at the Dursley's, he was no novice and within little time, he had a plate of eggs, toast, and juice before him. Making extra, he decided he would take it up to Remus after he finished as a gesture of belated apology for his actions the previous morning.
While he sat slumped with his elbows propped on the table, one holding his head and the other holding his fork, he was contemplating the meaning of life in his scrambled eggs when Hedwig flew through the kitchen window carting a load of packages. Startled, he glanced up, smiling weakly when he caught sight of his snowy owl soaring towards him. He hadn't seen her since he let her out of her cage for the summer, knowing she was better off at the Weasley's than at the Dursley's. She seemed well fed and exercised, seeming to have gotten a lot of work at Ron's despite the little owl Sirius had given him.
As it was, she flew inside to land at his elbow, nipping affectionately at his fingers and demanding loving attention for a few moments. Giving her the crusts of his toast, he watched as she had her fill and settled beside his arm comfortably. She didn't seem to sense anything different about him, or rather, just ignored the changes in favor of pruning her feathers casually.
He began to untie the scrolls and the boxes when he was distracted again. Pig and a school owl flew in, carrying more packages wrapped in bright, crinkly paper. However smoothly Hedwig had accepted his changes, Pig was obviously uneasy, circling overhead and not landing until his owl snapped her beak sharply at him in an obvious command for him to land. Once Harry had untied the presents, Pig immediately flew out of the house without stopping for food and water. The school owl settled on the table, offering its leg, and Harry untied Hagrid's gift before it flew off with a hoot and another piece of his toast clutched in its beak.
He smiled at Hedwig's coo of encouragement rather sadly before unrolling the parchment that had been attached to her leg.
Dear Harry,
I know its way past due, but Dumbledore wouldn't let us send our gifts until August, and he wouldn't give us a reason. He just said you wouldn't feel up to it until later. Ginny said it probably had something to do with Sirius' death, and you still coping and all.
Harry winced when he read that part. Ron really didn't have tact when it came to discussing sensitive subject matters. He knew Ginny would have walloped him on the head for that comment had she known it was put in the letter.
Hermione came for a visit with her parents expecting to see you here, and left her presents here to be sent along with ours when she realized you hadn't come. Bill and Charlie spent a few days here over the summer as well and it was brilliant! It's been a while since we have all been together, and they told me to send their regards.
I asked Mum if we were going to Grimmauld Place for the week before school, but she muttered something about Dumbledore saying it wasn't a good time, whatever that means. But as I figure, we'll see you at least a day or two beforehand I bet.
Write me and tell me how you like your presents.
Your friend,
Ron
Harry could only shake his head by the end of the letter, re-rolling the parchment. He could feel the jealousy at such an easy going family with no real problems curdle inside of his stomach. Ron, though he felt he was poor, was rich in love, while Harry, rich in wealth had no family to really call his own.
Looking at the gifts sprawled across the table; he tried to dredge up enough desire to sift through them, but ended up shrugging and piling them in his arms to take them upstairs. Maybe he'd open them later.
Allowing Hedwig to climb up his shoulder, he quickly carried the armload of gifts to his room and threw them on the unoccupied bed opposite of his in the room Ron and he had shared last summer. He set Hedwig in her cage, and she immediately folded her wings and looked ready for a long nap. Phineas had abandoned his portrait, and Harry had never once caught sight of him since finding out Sirius had disappeared.
Harry hurried back downstairs and threw away the rest of his breakfast. He wasn't feeling very hungry anymore, but made a tray to take up to Remus. He slowly trod up the stairs after covering a plate of a breakfast similar to his, holding it steady so as to not spill the juice and tea, and carefully made his way to Remus' room.
When he got to one of the guest rooms Remus had commandeered for his own, he juggled the tray for a moment before knocking softly. There was no answer, but when Harry tried to turn the knob the door opened with a quiet snick to allow Harry entry. Pushing the door open with his elbow, he edged his way inside as quietly as possible, blinking rapidly behind his thick glasses to adjust to the sudden darkness of the room.
Trying not to look at the bed where soft snores were coming from, he gently set the tray on the bedside table before finally giving in to the urge. He turned his head slowly, taking in the slow rise and fall of Remus' scarred chest, the position of his arms that crossed underneath his head and pillow to expose his nude upper body, and the white, twisted sheet wrapped around his thin hips. The man was savagely beautiful with his half naked body sprawled before him like a fallen angel.
Harry couldn't resist the urge to move closer, his eyes greedily taking in the sight of the man Harry had dreamed about since he had arrived at Grimmauld Place. When he stood beside the bed he inhaled deeply, still able to smell that sweetly erotic smell Harry had come to associate specifically with the former Defense professor. Quite without realizing it, he reached out a hand tentatively to smooth it over the stretched abdomen of the man lying quietly before him.
He sucked in a startled breath when Remus reacted quickly, grabbing his wrist and pulling him closer so that Harry sat abruptly on the bed beside him. With his eyes still closed, Remus dragged Harry so that he lay prone across Remus' own body, warmth against warmth, hardness against hardness.
"Remus," he moaned as quietly as possible, writhing against the sleeping body underneath him.
"Harry," he sighed back, nuzzling closer, burying his face into Harry's hair and breathing deeply. "I want you," he murmured sleepily.
"I-" Harry groaned. "I want you too." Without thinking, he leaned over and pressed his lips hotly against the slack lips of the sleeping man. Though he had little experience of intimacy with anyone he tried his hardest, his eagerness making up where he lacked skill.
Remus' eyes shot open once he realized it wasn't another dream, but Harry actually lay draped on top of his chest in his bed.
"What the-" he started, but was cut off by a second kiss from the desperate, sweet lips of the young boy currently covering his body.
Though he tried to resist, Remus could not prevent a moan of arousal from escaping his lips, and finally giving in, pulled Harry's mouth closer to his, spearing his fingers through the boy's thick, dark hair. Licking the boy's bottom lip, silently begging for entry, he could have shouted in joy when Harry allowed his tongue to enter. Sweeping the sweet taste of Harry's mouth with long strokes of his tongue, he could feel the boy's body quiver in excitement, pressing closer against his own aching flesh. Remus resurfaced for air before once again sliding his tongue further inside, gliding over Harry's teeth to smooth over his palate. Beginning a duel with Harry's own tongue playfully, he groaned quietly, running his twitching fingers frantically down Harry's smooth neck and shoulders.
Harry gasped into Remus' mouth; his glimmering eyes were wide open, taking in every aspect of the man's face while he had Remus practically devouring his mouth. He grabbed Remus' shoulders, clutching him closer while he thrust his hips against the equal hardness he could feel pressing into his belly, but unfortunately it seemed to jar the man from his stupor. Remus thrust him away, panting harshly while wiping his mouth with the back of one hand. He shifted away from Harry, reclining on the pillows.
"What are you doing here Harry?" Remus asked, his eyes flickering away from boy staring back at him in hurt.
"I was just bringing you breakfast," he said shyly, brushing the hair from his face with a trembling hand.
"Oh, I-well thank you Harry, but you should probably go now," Remus said in a faintly hopeful voice, ushering with his hands toward the door. But Harry sat still for a moment beside him on the bed.
"Are you mad at me for what I did, Remus?" Harry asked quietly with his eyes lowered.
"No, Harry, I'm not mad. But it was highly inappropriate," Remus answered with a heavy sigh, staring at the ceiling with heavy-lidded eyes. "I should not have taken advantage of you like that."
"What?" Harry cried, his slouched shoulders straightening abruptly. "You didn't take advantage of me! If anything, it's my fault!"
"No, Harry, I am the adult and I should be able to restrain myself better," he said, breathing shallowly. He was very pale, his skin a sickly ash color and his muscles were trembling from the miniscule strain of sitting upright.
"Just get some rest, Professor. I won't bother you again," Harry whispered, pulling the sheets up and tucking them in place around the tired man's body.
"I'm sorry Harry," he murmured, already slipping back to sleep. "I didn't mean…" he trailed off as he fell unconscious though a frown still bunched his eyebrows and his mouth was still slick from Harry's recent kiss.
Harry, tearing himself away from the sight, exited the room as quietly as he had entered, though feeling far guiltier than before.
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Harry spent the rest of the weekend in solitude doing his homework while Lupin tried to sleep off some of the after effects of the full moon. Harry was sure, though, that he had recovered fully and was just using his recent transformation as an excuse to be rid of his company. Every once in a while he was sure he heard the Floo roar signaling someone was coming or going, but once he had darted towards the living room he only found it empty.
Bored, he stared blankly out of the window, tapping the edge of the quill against his chin absently while he dazedly pondered the many uses of hag hair in a potion for curing the measles. With his eyes glazed over he stared at the fenced portion of the dehydrated backyard from the living room window that day, never noticing the two people that stepped into the room behind him.
A gentle cough brought him crashing back to reality. Whipping his head around quickly, he stared in startled disbelief at Ron and Hermione, before jumping to his feet to greet them.
"Hello! What are you two doing here?" he asked, clapping Ron on the back and giving Hermione a swift hug.
Hermione laughed, giving him a sisterly peck on the cheek. "Dumbledore said we could come for a quick visit since we wouldn't be seeing you in Diagon Alley or on the train to school."
"Yeah mate, what's all that about?" Ron asked, frowning suspiciously.
Harry sighed heavily, brushing his bangs away from his forehead. "Dumbledore says it's too dangerous for me to go out in public now that I've incriminated tons of Death Eaters and brought Voldemort back to life and all," he said bitterly.
They both winced at the Dark Lord's name before smiling gingerly. Quickly trying to change the subject, Hermione asked, "Did you get the presents Ron sent you? We never got any letters back."
It was Harry's turn to wince, a flush on his cheeks. "I haven't really opened them yet, though I did get them. Thanks, by the way," he added belatedly. He could tell from the disappointed expressions on their face that they did not find the information enlightening.
"Why didn't you open them, Harry?" Ron asked, puzzled.
Harry just shrugged, already getting tired of all the questions. With Remus avoiding him, it had been a bit quiet around the house, and he realized he hadn't minded as much as he had thought.
"Well?" Hermione asked worriedly.
"I just didn't feel like it, okay?" Harry said roughly. "Without Sirius here it just didn't feel right."
They both nodded in dawning understanding, looking uncomfortable. Nobody said anything for a minute, before Harry asked wearily, "Would you like me to open them now?"
They each shrugged, not pointedly answering, and taking that as a hint, he motioned for them to follow him upstairs to his bedroom. They eagerly followed at his heels, filling the tense atmosphere with chatter of their summer, asking how his had gone without giving him a chance to answer before relating what they had been up to. Harry decided to let them both ramble on while he disinterestedly sifted through the pile of presents still on Ron's empty bed.
Since they were both present he decided to open their gifts first, and managed to find both with relative ease. Picking up the smaller one that was from Hermione, he could already tell from the shape that it was a book. Unfortunately, when he pulled back the wrapping paper, he wanted to throw it through the window.
"Dealing with Loss and How a Teenager Should Cope by Atwood Alwazrite," Harry read aloud, toneless. "I get the feeling you're trying to tell me something, Hermione."
She tried to hold his gaze as long as possible, before dropping her eyes and refusing to answer. He set it aside gently so as not to give into his destructive urges, before moving on to Ron's gift.
His gift was much more realistic. It was a brand of broom polish called Burkley's Firebolt Grooming Grease specifically designed to bring out the luster in the wood and the ability to keep a firm grip without gloves even directly after application.
"Thanks Ron," Harry said, smiling weakly. "I'm sure Sirius would like that you're helping me keep his Firebolt in good condition."
Ron shrugged and laughed stiltedly, waving a hand carelessly.
After setting aside the two gifts he sighed heavily. "I'm sorry guys; I just don't really feel like opening the rest of these now. I'll open them later."
"That's okay mate, don't worry about it," Ron said softly. "We really just wanted to make sure you were okay this summer."
"Yeah, we were just worried when we found out you were basically spending it all alone," Hermione said, patting the back of his hand.
He bit his lip, trying to repress the words that wanted to spew forth, wanting to bathe them in his rage and helplessness…instead, he swallowed hard while nodding, the sting in his eyes more pronounced.
"Well," he said, trying to clear his throat, "Remus has been a great help, and I've had time to get my homework done this summer. But I've had to take Occlumency lessons with Snape again," he said, trying to fill in the gaps of conversation. For some reason, this was harder than he thought it was going to be.
"That's awful luck, Harry," Ron said in commiseration, immediately jumping on the bash-Snape train of thought. "He's a right git at school, and now you've been stuck with him through the holidays too!" he scowled.
"Yeah," Harry said, chuckling weakly. "Like school isn't enough."
Hermione frowned, before offering tentatively, "Well, I think it's a good idea. It will be safer for you…"
Harry stiffened. "You mean, for you don't you?" he sneered.
"No!" Hermione cried. "I don't mean that at all, Harry. I think it's just better if Vo-Voldemort can't read your mind," she tried to finish vainly. But Harry had already turned his face away, and would not meet her eyes.
"You don't have to remind me, Hermione. Believe me, for every second of every day I realize I've made a mistake," he said hoarsely. "A mistake that got Sirius killed."
"I didn't mean it like that," she said softly, her voice choked. "Nobody blames you for Sirius."
"Well maybe they should!" Harry suddenly shouted. "Maybe I just want someone to tell me the truth that it is my fault! The only one around here that tells me the truth is that bastard Snape, and that truly is not saying something."
Both of his friends blanched but Ron turned red in anger. "Listen Harry, if that's what you want, you're going to have to look for someone else to tell you that. But Hermione and I don't blame you, and I'm sure Professor Lupin doesn't either. So don't take your anger out on your friends," he said firmly.
"Maybe you shouldn't be my friends anymore," Harry said, his eyes flashing angrily. "Maybe you both shouldn't be friends with someone that could get you killed!"
"Is that what this is about Harry?" Hermione whispered. "Are you afraid you're going to get us killed?"
Harry could not answer, instead turning his face towards the window, his hands clenched futilely by his sides. He leaned forward, resting his forehead against the cool windowpane, sighing in defeat.
"I don't know," he said softly, his eyes shut tightly.
Hermione and Ron walked forward together, wrapping their arms around him. Even Ron, who was not prone to giving touches, wrapped his arm around Harry's shoulder, staring down at him in concern. Hermione wrapped both of her arms around Harry's thin waist, holding him tightly against her body in calm, soothing support. Both ignored his initial struggles, holding him tightly between them in silent comfort. Harry tried to muffle a sob, but he was just so tired of fighting his roiling emotions, and could not stop the tears that trickled down his cheeks.
"I'm so sorry," he hiccupped. "I'm sorry."
They only embraced him tighter, and let him cry out all of his frustrations.
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They spent the rest of the afternoon in a slightly more relaxed state of mind, none willing to broach the subject anymore. Instead, they stayed near safer topics of schoolwork, upcoming classes, and previous holidays, reminiscing of the school days of old. They paused only for afternoon tea, and though the house was strangely silent and empty, they tried not to pay it any mind.
"Where do you think everyone else is?" Ron asked through a mouthful of sandwiches that Harry had hastily put together.
Harry grimaced. "Probably off doing things for the Order," he said sourly.
"Yeah, I know what you mean. I can't wait till I graduate and then I'll be joining for sure," Ron said, his eyes brightening eagerly.
"Ron, you know your mother would never allow that!" Hermione said in reprimand, shaking her head.
"What's she going to do? I'll be a legal wizard by then, she can't stop me," Ron shot back with his mouth full of food, on the verge of choking on his ire and sandwich.
"He has a point," Harry said, shrugging at her venomous look that fairly shouted, 'you are not helping here!'
"Anyways, I'll be joining as well. I mean, it's a given, right?" Harry said blandly, trying to ignore the tinge of bitterness that he hoped they couldn't hear in his voice.
Apparently they had missed it.
"Don't you want to do anything besides work for the Order?" Hermione asked softly, her eyes brimming with emotion as she watched the two boys across from her send her blank looks.
"What else would we do?" Ron asked, sincerely puzzled.
"Well, wouldn't you want to go to the University?" Hermione asked, raking the frazzled hair away from her face.
"Why? I'm going to be an Auror," Ron defended. "That's just as good."
"What about you Harry?" Hermione questioned almost desperately.
"I'll do whatever Dumbledore tells me to do," he answered quietly, and the conversation was over.
-------------------
When the other two finally left for the night, it was a relief to all of them. Remus had not emerged from his room all day, and Harry had not the courage to face him again after the last disaster.
So instead he lay alone in his room, his face turned away from the window to watch the blurry reflection of the moon reflected on another clock. But this time he knew Snape wouldn't burst into his room to kidnap him to another secret location, and he was alone in his memories without the distraction of Remus or Snape.
He would cry no more. He would not be weak, and would not defile the memory of his godfather with more tears shed on his own behalf.
He had only recently found out that there wouldn't even be a memorial service held in Sirius' honor, not even by the Order. It was only another indication on how quickly everyone forgot those on the front lines, and he cynically wondered what Snape thought.
If Sirius, as a Gryffindor, wouldn't even get a passing mention, what could Snape look forward to as a Slytherin Death Eater-Light Warrior? He smiled without humor. Nothing. There was nothing to look forward to. All eyes were on him though, forever and ever…
He drifted off to sleep with the echoing though in his head.
Forever and ever…Too bad it wasn't for everyone. Sirius had no forever.
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Word count: 9,070
TBC