NOTE

Warning for sex with dubious consent (nothing forced, only given the circumstances) and mentions of rape and cannibalism. As in most of the sex scenes in this story I'm not going to shy away from detail, so if you're feeling sensitive you might want to skip between "He stepped into the room and closed the door," and the following scene separator.

84. Meaningless

Two days later, three from the full moon, late at night. The wolves found their way into the hospital wing and Pouncer, sitting regally on the end of Remus's bed, hissed them out, grey tails between their legs.

The approach of the moon was taking its toll on Remus, and the sight of the wolves made his eyes and nostrils go wide. Long after they'd hurried out of the room he remained staring forward, his breathing panicked and his eyes as large and blank as saucers.

"Remus, please…" I held his hand, touched his shoulder, doing what I could to bring him back. But he'd been stolen away and seemed unable to hear my voice.

Pouncer walked alongside Remus's blanketed body and nuzzled his yellow head against his chin, purring. Only when he stroked Remus's cheek with his soft tail did Remus come around.

His eyes landed on mine and focused, a depth of fear inside them. His voice was a ragged whisper. "You can't allow it."

"Allow what?"

Again his eyes seemed to glaze over from the force of his desperation, and a wave of empathy tore through me, making my eyes water. "You need to… to… You need to…"

"Need to what?"

He shook his head, staring down at the top blanket, his pale hands trembling.

"Remus." I was certain he was anxious about his transformation, and the sight of the wolves had brought it on. I took both his hands in mine and pressed them, trying to give them my warmth. "You are not going to hurt anyone. You don't even have to go outside. We'll use the Room of Requirement. And you've been taking the Wolfsbane."

He shook his head, numbly staring again, his breath coming in uncontrollable gasps. "What if it…"

"It will work. Remus. I can stay with you. You won't be alone. I'll stay with you."

"You will not!"

The sudden force of his voice made me draw back, my heart pounding from instinctive fear.

His face crumpled like parchment and tears fell from his eyes. "I have to go–" he whispered, his body shifting under the blankets as he tried to move from the bed. The old copy of Sir Gawain slipped from where I'd set it down over his knees, and fell to the floor.

Remus was weaker than me now, but adrenalin still thrummed through my veins as I held him back, stopping him with my arms around his shoulders. A painful whining sound seeped out of him and he tried to elbow my arms away. "Remus, no – Poppy! – Please, just breathe… it's okay…"

Poppy came hurrying out of her office, and when she saw the state Remus was in she summoned a vial of blue potion.

She carried it over and rested her hand on Remus's shoulder, uncorking the vial and addressing him as she must have done when he was a boy. "Come now, Mr. Lupin."

He gave a strangled cry and turned his face away, refusing the potion. "It's only a calming draught," Poppy consoled.

But he would not submit. I sat there paralysed, Remus hugging me, his arms child-tight around me as he sobbed.

"Alright," Poppy said gently, and I watched as she drew her wand and settled a sleeping spell over the crown of his grey-haired head.

I rubbed his back as it took effect, swaying him softly against me. "You're safe. You're safe…"

He dozed off and I was left with his weight slumped against my side, his head heavy on my shoulder.

"Poor thing," Poppy murmured. "Here, dear, let me take him."

I let her ease his weight from me and helped halfheartedly to lay him down and fix his blankets. Pouncer gave a downtrodden yawn, his small sharp teeth revealed, and then settled in a large yellow ball at Remus's side, his usual post.

I knelt down and picked up the book which had fallen. The pages were bent against the floor and I smoothed them out.

"Poppy?"

"Yes?"

"Do you think someone should stay with him when he transforms?"

"Without a doubt. I don't believe he would be gentle with himself if left alone. Regardless of the Wolfsbane."

Poppy replaced the cork in the vial of calming draught and while she returned it to the cabinet I stared down at Remus. How terrified he would have been if he knew about the two small boys in the Forbidden Forest, doomed to be turned when the moon waxed full. I'd deliberately omitted the reason why George and I had ventured into the forest, only telling him about the creature we'd captured–on which the Ministry had given us no report.

Shame hardened my insides as I thought of the two brothers. But I knew now that it was impossible to save them. My place was here. And, for whatever mad reason, I wanted to survive.

Poppy's voice broke me out of my absence.

"Isn't it time for you to go downstairs?"

I looked up at her, and remembered. "Oh."

She carried a basin of water to George's bedside and began to bathe his face. "I'll sit up."

I ran my finger along the edge of the book's hard cover, and then set it on the bedside table. I looked at Remus, only halfway seeing him, and then went slowly out of the room.

"Wilma?" Poppy said, when I was under the archway.

I turned and braved her pitying eyes.

"You're unlikely to be completely recovered. He needs to be very gentle."

I gave a weak nod, and turned away.

The wolves were loitering at the bottom of the stairs that led to the Defence classroom, and turned their sad amber eyes on me when I came into sight. I bent down to stroke between their ears, murmuring nothings to soothe them after their harsh banishment from the hospital wing. They followed beside me as I walked up the stairs and I felt somehow strengthened by their presence, as though they were my guards.

I left them with a quiet farewell at the classroom door, then walked up the aisle between the abandoned desks and into the bedroom. Stripping off the trousers and jumper I'd been wearing for days on end, I stepped into the shower and gave myself a quick wash. When I emerged I accidentally glanced at myself in the mirror. I'd been in a haze of distraction and had had no reason to really look before; but now I saw that even the coarse curls between my legs had turned snow-white.

The wind was high outside and the castle was cold. I put on an old grey skirt, my nightshirt and a dressing gown, and left my shoes on. After a moment of deliberation I left my wand behind on the pillow–it wouldn't take kindly to Severus after our fight on the hill–and carried a candle into the corridor.

The wolves were waiting for me. I felt a feeble chuckle try to come to life in my lungs, and die there. "Going to escort me?" I said to them.

The younger one's tail swished and he gave a soft bark of agreement.

Appreciative of their company, I let them follow me as far as the entrance hall and then dismissed them. They whined at me reluctantly for a while but eventually slunk down the narrow tapestry corridor, wandering off into the castle.

The stone knights watched me passively and I stepped down into the dungeon stairway, holding my hand in front of the hot candle flame to protect it from the damp drafts. My footsteps echoed quietly off the close stone walls and I made my way towards Severus's door, a flickering line of firelight beneath it. I knocked twice, just enough.

He didn't leave me waiting for long, opening the door completely and stepping aside to let me in. I looked past him at the orange flames, my vision feeling cut off from the world around me. Severus shut the door and I shivered a little, setting the candle down on the table.

By the cauldron of Wolfsbane sat a vial of the potion Severus had first given to me all those months ago, after my marriage to Remus.

"You should take it," he said, waiting behind me.

I shook my head and blew the candle out, the line of grey smoke rising and curling.

"Where?" I asked numbly.

My eyes strayed to the desk where the deed had been done after Andromeda was taken by a creature. I didn't want it rough like that again, but surely we both wanted it quickly over with. Perhaps the desk would be best for Severus.

"Bed," he answered.

I watched the candlesmoke dissipate in the air, joining the bitter smoke of the Wolfsbane. I went into the bedroom and sat up on the end of the bed, taking off my dressing gown and pulling my skirt up to my knees. He'd lit a second small fire in the bedroom fireplace and my skin looked red.

Severus stood in the doorway. He was still fully dressed, his black robes making his tall frame seem taller. His hair fell over his face and his nose cast a shadow on his cheek.

"At least take off your shoes."

There was an attempt at his usual biting sarcasm but it was too weak, and exposed the misery underneath.

I kicked my shoes off and stared at him.

He stepped into the room and closed the door.

There was an unnerving silence.

"Is this consensual?" he asked.

"It's the law."

The ugly truth hung in the air.

I looked away from him, my hands tensing around the grey fabric of the skirt. "I won't hold it against you."

"I raped you once."

I looked up at him, feeling the shock written on my face at his blunt tone. "Don't be ridiculous."

"I did. That day, after the Skeeter woman's blasted article."

Again I remembered the desk, the sight of my sweaty handprint as I pushed his hand away from my mouth.

"That wasn't… no."

"It was."

My heart stuttered angrily. "It wasn't the same."

"It was. You didn't want to see it. I didn't acknowledge it properly. You forgave me too quickly."

"Maybe I had to."

My eyes bored into his, and I resented the sureness of his tone. "You shouldn't have had to. I should have... I..."

"Neither of us wanted to. It wasn't your fault."

For the first time his voice rose. "It was my responsibility to be gentle." He looked away, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Stop making excuses for what I've done to you. Stop. It's infuriating."

I let the silence hang. Perhaps he was right.

"Poppy says you need to be especially gentle this time."

He looked at me again, and from the tension in his eyes I expected his voice to be bitter. But it was surprisingly even. "I won't hurt you."

The fire snapped quietly and he stood there unmoving. I pulled my skirt up to my hips and bent one knee, slipping one leg out of my knickers. My knees didn't bother pressing together; there was no arousal to hide.

Severus looked paralysed. I held out a hand to him and after a long pause he came closer. He didn't touch me and I let my hand fall again as he stood there at the foot of the bed. I had to look up at him, but the distance wasn't so great as when we were both standing.

His voice was a low vibration that I felt in my own throat. "Shall I prepare you?"

I remembered our last night in the cottage, the strain, the sweat and sourness, and my stomach tightened. "I'd rather use something."

He lifted his hand and summoned a small glass bottle, filled with a translucent oil. The bedroom door opened to allow it inside, then closed again with a creak. He held it out to me and I took it, undoing the cork and mechanically submerging my fingers. Severus averted his eyes as I smeared it inside myself.

I held the bottle, waiting for him.

There was the quiet but distinct sound of him unbuttoning his fly, and he stepped closer. It was my turn to look away as he slipped his hand into the darkness of his trousers. I stared at the spines of his books.

For a long and difficult minute there was nothing but the quiet rustling of fabric. Then a barely audible breath of frustration. He'd never had difficulties before, but the fact that he did now consoled me to some extent. I kept quiet until I couldn't anymore.

I looked at him carefully. "Want me to?"

His eyes flickered darkly to mine, a certain sternness in the set of his jaw.

"It might be useful to drop the facade for the moment," I asserted.

That darkness in his eyes didn't change, but he let his hand fall to his side. I leaned closer and reached into his trousers, feeling his half-erect heaviness in my palm. Attuned to his breathing, I moved my hand gently at first, then a bit more firmly, dipping my fingers into the bottle and spreading the oil over him.

When it wasn't enough, I lifted my nightshirt over my head and laid it next to my dressing gown, letting him see my breasts as I wrapped my hand around him again.

A quiet groan rumbled in his throat and he pressed his lips together. My work was done and I slipped my hand away, leaning back on the bed and looking at the wall.

After a moment I felt one hand on my upper thigh, and the careful probing of his tip at my opening.

"Ready?"

Letting my eyes slide up to him, I nodded. He looked at me ruefully and then looked down to where we joined, pushing himself slowly inside.

I'd overestimated myself, and the first moment had my muscles tightening, my breath stopping on instinct. Severus's fingers tightened around my thigh. "I can't get in. You need to breathe."

I drew in stinging air through my nose and tried to relax my belly. When he started to push up inside again, a painful tightness flared in my throat and my hand flew to the delicate ribs of my windpipe. Severus paused. I thought perhaps I should have accepted the potion after all but didn't want to ask for it now, and doubted my ability to speak. I took my hand away from my throat and forcefully clenched the sheets instead, struggling to breathe normally. He was staring down at me and I gave him a sharp nod.

My face drained and my palms went clammy as he pushed further.

"Pain?" he murmured.

"It's fine."

In truth, it wasn't. Forced to feel the fragility of my inner muscles, every ugly thing that had happened to me had come back and clouded my mind.

"You should be in control," Severus said, pulling out. "I'll lie down."

"No. Just do what you need to. I'm not made of glass."

Again his voice rose. "You're not a piece of meat, either."

Nausea lit a fire in my stomach, as I remembered Remus's memories. I closed my eyes. "Please don't say that."

He was silent, and I knew I had to take the lead. I bent my knees and let my heels rest on the edge of the bed, shakily pulling him closer by the open flaps of his trousers. I'd broken out in a cold sweat and felt frail.

Severus's eyes appraised me, as dark and sharp as a hawk's. "You're not taking care of yourself. Let me get you a tonic."

"I just want to finish this. Please."

My voice was firm and his eyes relaxed slightly, more honest than I'd seen them in some time. I met his gaze evenly and his jaw tightened. "Fine."

He entered me again and this time wasn't stopped by my tightness or my whimpered gasp of pain. He wasn't as deep as he could have been, and I tried to focus on that fact rather than the pain as he started rocking into me. I kept just enough tension in my body to stop myself going completely limp.

A deep line was drawn between his furrowed eyebrows as he monitored my expression. I almost asked him to stop again and let me turn around, but then I'd have been in the position in which Lucius took me, and I didn't want that. Defeated, I covered my face with my arm, my head rolling to the side and my white hair falling over my eyes.

My heart fluttered weakly and a rush of feverish cold crossed my skin. For the first time I tried to imagine what it felt like for him, buried in the hot, tight sleeve of my body. Did he feel protected?

I pushed the silly thought from my mind. If anything he must have felt threatened, as though to touch the inside of me was to touch something dangerous and stained. Maybe that was how he'd always felt about it, deep down.

He let out a huff of vexation and I spoke. "Are you close?"

"I'm trying."

Summoning my strength, I clenched around him to help.

"You don't have to–"

But when I did it again he trembled, a silent moan making him shiver. I clenched a third time and he finally let out a moan, his body stuttering against mine. My breath sharpened as he gripped my hip to change the angle and went a bit quicker.

Soon he was leaning down closer to me, holding himself up on his hands. I felt the heat radiating from his black clothes as he kept his weight off of me, and realised in that moment that I didn't resent him for this, and never would.

"Look at me," he rasped.

I forced my face out of the hot cave of my elbow and locked my eyes to his. I reached up and ran my hand slowly through his soft black hair, from his sweating temple and over his ear, my fingertips caressing his scalp.

He swelled inside me, and the next moment his hips shuddered forward. Once, twice, three times. His soft, vulnerable groan. The throb and the burning heat inside as he finished.

When he'd recovered himself he pulled out and stood again, reaching compulsively for my body and bringing me to his chest. My neck twisted awkwardly as my cheek pressed against his damp black shirt. There was a tenderness in his hands as he stroked my sweaty back.

"I'm sorry."

My hips were stiff. I felt clogged inside.

He drew away, giving me room to breathe, and I felt the cold air against my skin like a knife. I watched him push his hair out of his face so he could see me better. "Let me get you something. You look like you're going to faint."

"No thank you."

There was a moment of tension before he stepped away, hiding himself and doing up one of his buttons.

"Very well. Good night."

His voice was cold again, flippant, as if he didn't care. But I knew he did.

He lingered briefly and then disappeared into the bathroom, closing the door behind him. I sat there until I heard the water start.

Slowly, I put my foot back through my knickers and pulled them up, letting my skirt fall over my legs as I stood. There was a little ooze between my legs, and a wetness that made me grimace. Ignoring the sensation as best I could, I put on my nightshirt and pulled my dressing gown over my shoulders, stepping into my shoes.

In the other room I took the candle from the table and lit it from the fire before leaving.

On the stairs I had to pause, hurting and so, so tired. The cold wind had picked up outside and even in the heart of the castle its cruelty could be felt.

Forcing my knees to bend, I continued up the stairs to the hospital wing. I paused warily before stepping inside. The thought of Remus being awake and able to smell what had just happened was mortifying. But he was deeply asleep, and I walked past him silently.

Poppy was in her office, a pot of tea sitting on her desk. "Have a seat," she told me, vacating her chair so I could take her place. I sat down and pulled up my skirt again, opening my legs.

Poppy conducted the examination quickly, but to me it seemed to last longer than usual. My eyes welled with tears and a sob lifted in my throat, but I held it all inside.

"You poor girl," Poppy crooned. "It's all done now. It's all done. Let me pour you some tea."

"I just want a bath," I whispered.

She continued decisively. "I'm sending you off with a cup of tea."

I stood up shakily and the sound of the pouring tea filled the room. I took my candle in one hand and the warm cup in the other, the steam making the ends of my hair curl. Poppy took a vial of sleeping draught from her cabinet and slipped it into the pocket of my dressing gown. She led me gently to the door, and I didn't mind her hand on my shoulder.

I missed Molly.

"Come right back if you need anything at all. Even in the middle of the night."

I nodded, and went down the corridor alone.

In the bath I tried to relax but couldn't seem to manage. I stayed there long enough for my fingertips to wrinkle in the warm water before I even remembered to clean myself. I numbly washed between my legs, looking down at my thin bent wrist between my two thighs. Uncomforted, I finished and stood from the bath, draining it.

Dry and covered by my dressing gown, I went to the bed and touched my wand. I felt its disappointment. For a moment I was afraid it might not give me the support I needed. But then I remembered all the times it had rescued me. I gripped it more tightly and spoke to it.

"You're going to help me."

My hand warmed slightly.

The light of the waxing moon came through the window, casting the shadows of the many diamond panes across the floor.

I considered the risks of the contraceptive spell. It was more dangerous than the contraceptive potion. But the potion had to be taken before intercourse, and hadn't been legally accessible since the law, except in extremely special cases. Frequent use of the spell was known to cause permanent infertility. Malfoy had been given a year in Azkaban not only for rendering the activity of that night useless, but also for posing a threat to my reproductive organs.

No matter. I had decided. I would cast it, and be happy if I never got pregnant again.

I spoke the incantation and my wand was willing. I endured the sharp pinching feeling in my womb, and then set my wand down on the bedside table.

I stood there and took a few sips of the now-lukewarm tea. Then I remembered the vial of sleeping draught in my dressing gown pocket, and sipped it down.

I was so very tired.

I climbed up into the bed and nestled myself under the warm blankets, closing my eyes. Just before all sensation faded I felt the quiet trickle of a tear, tickling my nose.

I slept for a long time.

NOTE

These past chapters have been the darkest part of the story. I'm planning that soon the plot will pick up and Wilma's fighting spirit will start to bloom again.

Thank you for reading. I deeply appreciate reviews!