Title: Grasping the Nettle
Category: Books - Harry Potter
Challenge(s): Shower challenge and the Scrabble challenge!
Prompt(s): Write 500+ words and use the word Languor!
Length: WIP Chapter Two – 1,380 Words!
Rating: M
Pairing or Characters: Harry Potter and Remus Lupin.
Thanks: To my amazing betas who always remind me to paint a picture with my words, not just tell a story. Thank you girls!
Disclaimer: Though it pains me to say so, I do not own the rights to anything that belongs to the Harry Potter universe, nor do I make any money from writing about them. The only thing(s) that I can claim as mine own are the ideas and/or characters that may be woven into the wonderful world of all that is Harry Potter. Everything else is used in the spirit of good-natured fun or naughty shenanigans. What can I say? I just like to play!
Author's Notes: Hey guys, I just wanted to write and let you know that this story is based mostly off of head-canon. In my mind Tonks and Remus survived but they aren't together anymore and they share custody of their son. Sirius never died and he is still very much a part of Harry's life.
Written For: My good friend Jess! Because she is such an amazing person I wanted to do something special. Well...a oneshot turned into a WIP!
Chapter Two
Remus's skin stung from the harsh assault of freezing rain lashing down from the cloud-cloaked early morning sky. An unforgiving pine-scented wind tore at his exposed face like the claws of an irate maenad, causing his vision to blur as he stumbled through the overgrown patches of greenery surrounding his decrepit house. Remus was bruised and battered after a feverish night of running through the whispering labyrinth lodge pole pines. Chilled to the bone and almost too tired to make it home, Remus trudged on laggardly. All he wanted was to crawl into his broken-down bed, close his weary eyes, and sleep off the languor that seemed to suck at his very soul.
One foot in front of the other, old boy, one foot in front of the other. Remus mentally coaxed himself, shoving a hand through his rain-dampened hair to keep it out of his pale eyes. Only a little further now, you haggard mongrel, and you'll be well on your way to oblivion.
It seemed like an eternity had passed before Remus made it through the rickety wooden fence surrounding his front garden. A strong gust of wind whooshed around him as he walked into the yard, making the front gate creak in protest when he passed through. Remus was so tired that, for a moment, he considered leaving the lopsided gate hanging open. Just the thought of turning around to push it closed seemed like too much work in his exhausted state of mind. A shred of reason played through his muddled thoughts. If he didn't latch the gate shut now, it would creak abominably in the violent winds while he was trying to sleep. Sighing, Remus turned and pushed the gate closed, making sure the rusted metal latch was firmly in place.
He was treading towards the house when he saw the dark outline of a person in the unkempt grass. An unexpected rush of unease spread through him like wild fire, and the adrenalin generated chased away all signs of fatigue that inhibited him only moments before. Self-preservation took over, and Remus stood alert to the presence of the stranger. He lived in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by rolling hills and forests of pine. There wasn't a proper road to access the old house. It had been abandoned for many years before Remus took up ownership, and nature had reclaimed the old dirt road that had once been. The presence of a stranger could only mean one of two things: some muggle had gotten lost —a very unlikely possibility— or the person in the grass had arrived by means of magic— a much more likely scenario.
Remus pulled his wand from the inner pocket of his tattered ashen cloak. Until he knew that the stranger meant him no harm, it seemed like a good idea to have his wand at the ready. It wouldn't do to be caught unaware just because he hadn't been cautious. Pointing steadily at the figure, he began moving toward it in slow, calculated steps.
Another gust of wind blew through the garden, making Remus jump when the peeling shutters clapped against boarded-up house walls. Pausing, he closed his eyes for a moment and took a deep breath. Mind your nerves, old man. It's nothing more than a little wind! Get it together! He thought angrily before continuing toward the figure.
Lightning illuminated the entire garden as it pierced the ebony velvet sky, providing Remus with the visual clues of identity of the stranger through the sparks of light. Whoever it was, he was sprawled out on his stomach. He took note of the jet-black cloak, raven hair, pale snippets of skin, and the scarlet smears of blood on the exposed flesh. The sight of the blood made him take a deep breath through his nose. It smelled of coppery coins like blood should, and yet there was something off about it. The smell went straight through his sensitive nose to coat the back of his tongue. As it settled over his taste buds, he couldn't help but scowl in disgust. The blood was . . . tainted somehow.
Remus was standing over the body when a second flash of light danced through the darkness, giving him another glimpse of the person. He felt as if the wind had been knocked out of him when he finally recognized whom the sprawled body belonged to. This time he saw the lightning-shaped scar peering from beneath locks of unruly hair, and a familiar pair of glasses lay crunched on the grass. Remus' breath caught in his throat as he stared down at the very still body of Harry Potter.
He didn't remember dropping to his knees beside Harry. One moment he was standing, and the next he was turning the younger man over to see if he was still breathing. It took a few moments —though it seemed like an eternity to Remus— before he saw the gentle rise and fall of Harry's chest. A rush of relief washed through him.
Thank the stars above, Harry's alive. Remus thought gratefully until he saw the ripped flesh along the younger man's arm. He gently picked up the injured limb to inspect it. The flesh was jagged and bloody where it had been torn. It was apparent that the wounds were made by the jaws of a sizable creature. However, there was something familiar about the damage, something that Remus couldn't quite put his finger on. A horrifying possibility flitted through his mind, and he put his face close to the lacerations, distressed to have his suspicion confirmed. Closing his sage eyes, he inhaled deeply, taking in the smells that lingered on Harry's skin. The sickly scent of foul saliva, decaying teeth, and something Remus had worried he would find— the stench of werewolf.
He opened his eyes and looked sadly down onto Harry's unconscious face as he murmured, "Merlin, Harry, how could this have happened?"
Thunder reverberated in an angry rumble overhead. As if on cue, the rain went from a drizzle to a downpour, hammering unforgivably down around them. Remus needed to get Harry inside. He could still remember what it had been like—had felt like—to have the toxins of lycanthropy pumping through his body. He recalled the sensation of his humanoid cells being killed one after another as the inherited werewolf genes began to take over his very essence. The agonizing pain had haunted his comatose mind for days before it began to fade away. When he opened his eyes he was a new hybrid creature. Remus wasn't sure if the raven-haired man would have the same exact experience that he had, but Harry would surely go through something similar. All he could do now was get Harry out of the rain and make him as comfortable as possible.
Remus brushed wet locks of hair away from Harry's face, feeling the heat of a fever radiating from his forehead. The change was already coming. With misery etched on his face, Remus picked up the broken glasses and pulled himself up on his feet wearily. Pointing his wand, he muttered a simple levitation spell, making Harry's body rise slowly into the air so he could guide it inside.
Once Harry was upstairs in the only bedroom, Remus stopped to think. He couldn't just stuff Harry under the blankets in his wet clothes. The younger man might not appreciate being undressed while he was unconscious, but Remus really couldn't see any other solution.
So, with Harry still suspended in midair, Remus removed all of his torn, wet clothing and tossed them aside. After rifling through his rickety chest of draws, all he could find that would fit Harry's slender form was an oversized T-shirt and a pair of holey drawstring sweatpants.
Dressing a lax body was harder than Remus expected. Without the necessary muscle control, it requested more time and effort to put on the shirt and then the pants. When he'd finished stuffing Harry's limp legs into the pants, Remus guided him to the bed and tucked him snugly beneath the blankets.
Looking down at Harry's feverish and flushed face, Remus said softly, "Don't worry, Harry. I'll take care of you now. Nothing will happen to you as long as I'm here."
A/N: I really appreciate all of the people who take the time to read and review. I respect positive comments and constructive criticism. Both help to make me a better author which in turn makes my writing style improve for the better. On top of that I truly enjoy responding to all of your reviews. Also, thanks to those of you who have favorited and/or followed this story. That means so much!:) So, thank you all so much!. You're all wee gems!