Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/9876128.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Rape/Non-Con, Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Harry_Potter_-_J._K._Rowling
  Relationship:
      Remus_Lupin/Draco_Malfoy
  Additional Tags:
      Explicit_Language, Incest, Romance
  Collections:
      HPFandom
  Stats:
      Published: 2006-07-17 Words: 5875
****** Concern ******
by acidicxmurmur [archived by HPFandom_archivist]
Summary
     Draco Malfoy is going through hard times and Remus Lupin is not the
     only one who sees it, but is the only one who will do something about
     it. One-shot. (Re-edited)
Notes
     Note from SeparatriX, the archivist: this story was originally
     archived at HP_Fandom, which was closed for health and financial
     reasons. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its
     works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in August 2016. I
     e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but
     may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator,
     please contact me using the e-mail address on HP_Fandom_collection
     profile.
Author: acidicxmurmur
Pairing: Remus Lupin/Draco Malfoy
A/N: This takes place in Draco Malfoy's seventh year, and Remus Lupin is the
DADA
professor because I want him to be. Also, this hasn’t been beta-ed because I
haven’t had the time
to fine one. However, I have re-edited this so that it isn’t as sloppy.
If anyone does have any recommendations for a great beta, I’d appreciate it if
you’d send me a
link to his/her site/email address.
I do not own the Harry Potter characters, and I take no credit for their
existence. They do,
indeed, belong to JK Rowling.
Now, for the reason you clicked on the link.
                                    Concern
“Mr. Malfoy, will you please come and see me at the end of today’s classes?”
The professor, with what was once
rust-colored hair, whispered into the blonde boy’s ear after assigning in-class
work to his seventh year students. His
tone was gentle.
“Professor, need I remind you that Slytherin has Quidditch practice after
classes?” the boy whispered back,
protesting sensibly. He did not take his eyes off his paper.
The Lethifold is, in appearance, like a black cloak half an inch thick. Found
only in colder climates, the
Lethifold is extremely rare.
Professor Lupin sighed. “The Lethifold is only found in tropical climates,
Draco, not colder climates. After
practice, then - this is important. I’ll even feed you dinner, if you wish.”
Draco Malfoy snapped his head sharply towards his left side and glared at his
Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher.
Whispering, almost hissing, he said, “I don’t need any food from you. I doubt
you’d even be able to afford a meal
half as good as the ones I’m served at home.”
Remus looked as if he was trying to say something entirely impolite in a polite
way. Finally, he decided on: “Home.
That is exactly what I wish to speak with you about.”
Draco’s eyes let a minuscule of fear pass through before returning to their
old, shielding self. “I’ll be too tired. Not
after practice. Some other time, possibly, but not today.”
The DADA teacher merely looked at Draco; he had witnessed the brief expression
the boy had quickly replaced. At
length, Remus replied, “All right, some other time then,” and returned to his
desk to correct third year essays.
None of them were very good.
*
Two days passed slowly and event free for Draco Malfoy and Remus Lupin. On the
third day, a Sunday, the
professor confronted the student again, this time in the library.
“Ah, Mr. Malfoy. I see you do not have practice today. Would this, then, be an
opportune moment to have a
discussion?” Remus sat across from Draco, with a friendly smile upon his face.
His robes were, like always, tattered
and close to the stage of deterioration. His hair certainly had more gray than
it had possessed four years previous,
and his face was worn, as if loss and tragedy had imprinted permanent marks
onto the skin. Nevertheless, Remus
appeared calm and collected.
Sunshine shone crisply through the open windows of the library. An autumn
breeze softly blew the pages of Draco’s
potions book ever so slightly. The blonde boy pulled his Slytherin scarf closer
around his neck. Children could be
heard shouting outside; friendly games were taking place by the lake. Besides
Draco and Remus, the library was
empty except for the occasional student dragging his or her feet into the musty
room to manage a last minute
guilt-study.
Draco stood up and pushed in his wooden chair without speaking a word to his
professor. The chair’s four feet
unpleasantly scratched the stone floor. He picked up his books from off of the
table and took a deep breath in
through his nose. He said, after exhaling, “Professor Lupin, I have homework. I
will come to see you when I choose
to do so.”
As the youngest Malfoy was turning around gracefully, he was jerked to a stop
by his professor saying quietly, yet
sternly, “Stop.” The boy half-way turned, cocking his head to meet his
teacher’s brown eyes. A silent Yes?
was asked in a reluctantly yielding tone through his gray eyes.
“Draco, we need to talk. You were gone for three days, and you come back
looking, if possible, more pale than
usual.” Draco sneered at the comment, but Remus went on. “I am worried about
you. You happen to be one of my
best students, and I want to know what is troubling you. Please, Draco, give me
a chance.” Remus Lupin stood up,
not bothering to push in his own chair. He walked over to Draco in four quick
strides. Draco was two inches taller
than the five-foot-nine teacher, but the older man’s “alpha-male status” gave
him the illusion of appearing to be the
same height. Remus stood, with his hands in his pockets, and waited for an
answer.
“Professor, I cannot fathom what would lead you to believe that I need help -
especially from the likes of you.”
Draco closed his eyes and when he opened them they were as cold as the lake
water. “Stop pestering me.”
Hurt from the verbal slap, Remus started, “Draco, I’m not trying to-”
“Merlin, will you shut up?” Draco snapped at the middle aged man. He sighed and
continued on. “You’re not my
father, nor are you any concern of mine. I’m not like Potter, who will bear his
soul to you if he spills his goddamn
pumpkin juice. I have dignity and pride in who I am. Good day, Professor.”
Draco nodded once left the library
without waiting for a response from the other man.
*
Another month passed by slowly and dully, with the exception of Remus’s
transformation. Draco did not stop by to
see Professor Lupin, and Remus did not ask any more of the young Malfoy.
Although the middle-aged man had not spoken with Draco, he knew, deep in his
gut, that the boy was suffering in
some way. Possibly, this was the simple effect of school work being so
stressful; it was seventh year, after all.
Except, this made little sense because Draco had always been on top of things.
Sure, the boy – no, young man –
acted like an arse on most occasions, but he had the mind of a brilliant
wizard.
It was rumored, even among the teachers, that Draco Malfoy and Pansy Parkinson
would become married some day
and have little Malfoys that would run around, tormenting the little Potter-
Granger children. Of course, neither
Draco nor Harry were dating Hermione or Pansy, and most likely never would.
Maybe the expectations for life
relationships were too high. However, this too made little sense. Draco Malfoy
excelled at perfectionism, and
always achieved his goals.
The last reason for Draco’s attitude must be family-oriented. This did make
sense because the blonde was returning
home often for unknown reasons. Unlike many of the children, who happily took
time to return home for breaks,
Draco stepped onto the train with a genuine Malfoy sneer.
*
It was a week before Christmas break and the castle was in an air of jubilance.
Streamers hung in the hall-ways
glittered and magically changed colors frequently. The Great Hall was
majestically decorated in shimmering apple
greens, cherry reds, and golds the color of a freshly polished snitch. Every
boy, girl, ghost and professor was in a
jolly mood. Even the Slytherins were enjoying the holidays by giving the first
year Hufflepuffs swirlies in the third
floor toilets. ‘Twas the season, after all.
Though, Remus noticed at dinner one evening while taking a bite of his lemon
meringue pie, a certain blonde was
missing. He had been keeping a close eye on the boy, who had, since roughly a
week ago, been looking like himself.
An arrogant and smug smile practically living on his lips, his shoulders held
high, and his tongue quick as a bludger
with insults towards Potter. Though tonight he was not present at dinner.
Remus questioned the Headmaster, who was seated on his right, and the man with
the twinkling eyes answered in a
short and almost hushed tone.
“Mr. Malfoy has gone home due to family problems. The staff and I are not sure
when he will return.” The
Headmaster’s tone implied that he was finished and that the conversation on the
current topic was closed for
discussion.
While the werewolf in him wanted to growl and interrogate more, the man in him
left it at that. No need to question
something that was clearly none of his business in the first place. However,
Draco was his student, and teachers do
not only serve the purpose of teaching, they also guide students along the
right path by giving them advice. Teachers
offer a listening ear during a student’s troubled time. Or, it had been
rumored, they can even act as a source of
comfort in moments of pain.
That, Remus thought, is what Draco needs, through whatever pain he may be
going.
*
Winter break came and Draco did not return for the remainder of the week. He
must’ve stayed at home with his
father, Remus imagined. Narcissa Malfoy, everyone knew (but not suspected), had
died from a weak heart. Rumors
were that Narcissa had made Lucius Malfoy angry beyond breaking point. Then ...
she was gone.
Though, that was only a rumor.
In early January, the students returned and the man with the brown eyes did not
see the boy with the steel gray ones.
He did, Remus alone noticed, appear two days later.
Draco Malfoy had changed drastically once again.
His eyes, which had sunken into his head, giving him a frightening appearance,
were a dull gray, almost dusty black
color. Already skinny to begin with, he had lost at least ten more pounds, each
one of the pounds easily noticeable.
Draco’s once platinum blonde hair lacked the usual sheen and shine. Instead, it
was flat, regular, and ordinary. He
fit into a crowd like a muggle in a Super Mall, an ant on an ant hill, or a
guppy in a school of fish. Gone was his
distinct and individual self.
*
The middle aged man could not stop himself from questioning the blonde about
his change, once again.
“Draco Malfoy. You will come to my office right now, whether I have to drag or
levitate you.” Remus Lupin was
putting his foot down, and had stopped the frail boy in the hallway after
dinner on the second night of his return.
“You know I am worried about you, even if you say it is unnecessary. There’s
nothing for you to hide, Draco. I
won’t think any less of you for whatever reasons you may believe. Is that
clear?”
Draco leaned against a wall and shrugged. “I guess it is. If you’re not giving
me a chance, that is.” Supporting his
own weight again, Draco stood straight and looked Remus deep into the eyes.
“Professor Lupin, if this means you’ll
stop fucking bothering me, I’ll go with you.”
“Fine,” was the only thing Remus could think of saying. He knew it sounded
childish for a forty-something year old
man to say, but he was desperate. Leading with Draco following behind like a
dog, the student and teacher found
their way to the teacher’s office.
Remus offered Draco a seat on the couch placed in the corner of the room while
he made a kettle of hot tea. The
couch was a faded light brown and tearing at corner edges. Draco absent-
mindedly picked at the yellow stuffing,
letting it gracefully fall out of his fingers and onto the hard, brown tile
floor. In front of him was a wooden table. It,
like the couch, was battered and worn, the finish coming off. Everything about
the professor, the young man noticed,
was worn, even his possessions. Draco was given a cup of tea and looked
surprised.
“Is something wrong? Do you not drink tea, Draco?”
“I ... I didn’t expect tea. I mean, I drink it, yes. Er...” Thinking fast,
Draco added, “Thank you,” in a hushed
whisper.
Remus Lupin sat next to Draco, the correct distance apart for a student and
teacher, of course. He placed his tea,
after one last sip, onto what appeared to be a marble coaster. Draco figured he
either received them as a gift or they
were a heavy duty plastic. The man was already poorer than most beggars, and
teachers made close to nothing.
Remus cleared his throat and asked a simple, unexpected question. “How was your
holiday?”
Draco shrugged, his thin, bony shoulders moving with grace. “Indifferent;
nothing new.”
“What did you do that was indifferent?” Remus decided that prodding slowly
would be the best course of action.
“Reading.” The blonde’s voice sounded mechanical and the answer habitual.
Remus nodded. “I see. I personally love that new author, the witch from
America. Hoon? Was that it?” Draco
didn’t reply, just sipped his tea. “Her literature is some of the best American
writing I’ve ever read. Her choice in
plots, characters, how she describes everything with exact precision. Breath
taking, no less. I think I may have
something of hers in my desk if you’d like to borrow it. What genres do you
prefer? Or, more specifically, who do
you enjoy?”
“Patterson. Best bloody author out there.” Once again, even with the attempted
emotion, Draco’s words still came
out in a dull monotone.
Remus’s eyes lit up nevertheless. “Have you read his newest book,” he paused,
snapping his fingers, as if ordering
the title to come to him.
Draco spoke, “The White Tree? I have. I’ve always loved his style of writing.
His characters are witty, and their
relationships are, for the most part, believable.” The young adult shifted in
his chair, obviously wishing to take back
his last remark about relationships.
“For the most part believable? Explain, if you don’t mind.”
Draco made another graceful shrug and sighed. “They’re not too sappy. There is
no love. Well, no mushy romantic
love, anyway. The friendships developed are amazing and realistic. His
characters all have their virtues, but they
also have faults. Romance just takes away from a plot and is usually the one
and only thing a person remembers
about a book - which is completely stupid and moronic. Though, in the real
world, a sappy, romantic relationship is
everywhere. Either that, or a relationship entirely based on fucking.
Patterson’s writing is a nice release from the
world in which we’re forced to live.”
“That’s not always true, what you said about romance,” Remus argued simply. He
took a sip of his tea while Draco
raised a beautifully aristocratic eyebrow in question. Remus replied, “Romance
can add fire and a nice side plot.
This is, of course, if the author refrains from writing pure smut or simply
distasteful sex. I admit a romance novel
isn’t my fancy, but for a side plot romance is, indeed, quite nice.”
“Maybe to an old sod like yourself. To me, romance is meaningless. Romance is
supposed to be about true passion
and love – real love, not teenybopper, twelve-year-old girl love.” Draco set
his tea down onto the wooden table and
stood up. “If you ask anyone here about a book they have read and what it is
about, they will most likely say,
‘So-and-so fell in love with so-and-so-number-two, and then so-and-so died from
tragic heart failure. All the while,
so-and-so-number-two died from a broken heart.’ Stupid, really. It’s all mother
used to-” Draco halted immediately.
“I should go. I have homework.”
Remus stood up and set down his cup so violently that half of the remaining tea
spilled out and started to drip onto
the floor. He paid no attention to it. “Draco, please stay.”
“Look, I told you about my holiday, okay? What more do you want?”
Remus was silent for more than a few minutes.
“Well, professor?” the blonde asked; he was fidgety.
Remus shook his head. He couldn’t think of an appropriate response for the
student in front of him. He could
always say, “You’re beautiful and intelligent, and you have so much potential,
but you’re throwing it down the
fucking drain!” Before Remus knew what was happening, a pair of lips were on
his and thin arms were wrapping
around his waist. The lips were smooth and strong, like the arms clasping
around him.
Regaining his senses, Remus pushed the boy off of him. “Dra- Mr. Malfoy! What
was that about?”
Draco, looking perplexed, replied, “Isn’t that why I’m here?”
“No! You came here for tea! Not - er - that!”
With a mouthed, “Oh,” Draco’s face turned a light rose and he quickly picked up
his bag and headed for the office
door. Remus grabbed one of his delicate shoulders with haste and slammed his
whole body against the door, fearing
for only a slight second that he had broken the boy somehow. Draco’s once-again
pale face was the perfect look of
fear.
“You’re not leaving this bloody room until you tell me what’s wrong!” the man
yelled.
The blonde boy remained silent.
Remus’ face portrayed confusion. His voice softened a great deal and he asked,
though barely audible, “What’s
wrong, Draco? I know, yes know, something isn’t right. If it’s your home life,
tell me. I can ... I can make it so that
you don’t have to go back.”
Draco’s stone-like appearance lasted for an indistinguishable amount of time
before he questioned, “Where would I
go?” in a voice even softer than Remus’. “Did you even think of that? I don’t
think you did. I have no other home,
professor. I can’t escape him.” The werewolf’s eyes grew. He was starting to
realize what Draco was saying.
“Besides, I only have to bear it for another few more months, and then I’m
gone. I’ll get away from England,
probably to the States. Anywhere is better than here.”
Remus muttered under his breath, “That ... that’s why you thought I wanted-”
Draco didn’t bother finishing the older man’s sentence. Instead, he tried to
shrug his shoulders and looked at the
door. Remus understood and let go of the boy.
“Good-bye, professor. The essay is due on Tuesday, correct?” Draco asked
without looking at Remus.
Remus only nodded, for he was unable to find the right words.
Draco left the room and Remus collapsed to the floor. He tightly held his head
in his hands, and leaned against a
wall. His mind was running in never-ending circles, causing the werewolf a
severely wicked headache.
*
The following days were hell-like and awful. The blonde student wouldn’t ask
for any sort of help, even though he
was a walking wreck.
“Besides, I only have to bear it for another few more months, and then I’m
gone.”
Remus had never, in his life, dealt with circumstances like Draco’s. He of
course had never been raped, let alone by
his own father, and neither had any of his friends. What should he do? Go to
Dumbledore? What if the man already
knew? No ... he would’ve immediately done something. Maybe he possibly
suspected it, but had no solid evidence.
Though, if he exposed Lucius, the man could easily use wealthy contacts and
cover up everything. Then what would
happen to Draco? His life would be thrown harshly into a hell beyond anything
he had experienced.
Remus turned onto his back. He was sweating and tired. The full moon was
approaching. Unable to fall asleep, the
man stood and put on the day’s previous robes. Walking the halls often gave him
time to think and clear his mind.
Then, after he was tired enough to fall asleep, he would return to his room and
pass into a deep slumber with ease.
Moonlight shone through gigantic hallway windows and onto suits of armor,
making them seem alive - and not the
ones who already were. When a cloud passed over the almost full moon, blocking
the light, it gave Remus a ghostly
shiver, as if someone were walking over his grave.
Minutes passed by unnoticed. Hours came and left, but Remus paid no attention.
He continued on his slow and
thoughtful hike through the castle. It was something close to a miracle that he
hadn’t been caught, bumped into, or
ambushed by a mischievous Peeves. Finally, still alert and as attentive as
ever, the man decided to give up and
return to his bed. He needed some sleep; tomorrow was Monday, which meant the
students would be rebellious and
agitated ... especially the Gryffindors. They had lost a humiliating match
against Hufflepuff the previous Saturday
and were not, to say the utmost least, happy.
“Professor?”
Remus snapped his head up. He had been caught, by a student, while staring out
the second story window at the oval
shaped moon.
“Who is it?” Remus could only identify the gender of the student. The rest of
the boy was hidden by a shadow cast
by the wall space between two of the giant windows.
“It’s me,” came the voice after a short pause, “I couldn’t sleep either.”
Finally recognizing the voice - It sure took me long enough, he later thought -
Remus replied: “Draco, what
are you doing up? It has to be past one!”
“It’s three thirty, actually. And I needed to see you...”
Remus cocked his head, “And you knew I would be right here?”
Draco walked into the light. “No,” he said monotonously, “I went to go and find
your room. Which is damn hard to
find, but when I did, you weren’t there. So, I decided to go for a walk.” The
Malfoy junior looked the werewolf in
the eyes. “I just happened to find you, purely accidental.”
Switching his weight from one foot to the other, Draco added: “It is all right
if I talk to you?”
Remus nodded simply.
Before speaking any further, the blonde boy ran his fingers through his
shoulder length hair and slumped down onto
the ground, sitting directly beneath the open window. Since Draco didn’t
specifically tell Remus to keep a distance,
the man sat down next to Draco, who obviously didn’t care.
“We don’t have anything in common. You’re dirt poor, a werewolf, and I am not
suppose to associate with you.”
“Are you trying to tell me something, Mr. Malfoy?”
“Please don’t call me that,” the boy asked with a rigid tone, “it makes me
sound like my father. Whom, I’m sure you
are aware, is a person of which I’m not too fond.”
Remus internally stabbed himself through the foot with a silver sword. “I
won’t.”
Draco had not made eye contact with the professor. He stared at the floor, it
was pale and moonlit. The moon light
illuminated the corridor easily by bouncing off of the floor and into small
corner nooks, tight spaces behind suits of
armor, and most of the other cramped areas of the castle.
“What do you want to talk about?”
“The Lethifold.”
“It’s known as The Living Shroud.”
“Oh.”
Remus raised an eyebrow. “You should know that. We did a paper on the Lethifold
a few months ago.”
Remus watched Draco shrug. He seemed to shrug quite often. “I know. I’m making
small talk.”
“It’s not your forte`, is it?”
Instead of replying with a sarcastic come back, Draco continued to stare at the
floor. It was old, worn, and had been
used many times within the last two or three centuries. Maybe someday it would
be replaced - possibly, before a
student fell through it.
The two sat for a long time. They didn’t talk. Draco fell asleep for about a
half an hour and Remus watched him.
He was a beautiful human being, Draco Malfoy. He could easily obtain a muggle
modeling job anywhere he wanted.
Remus was fondly reminded of Sirius in his youth. Padfoot, also, had been a
dashing fellow. Remus decided to let
the boy sleep.
About ten minutes after Draco had dozed off, Remus heard a thump. It was quiet
and discrete, but a thump
nevertheless. After waiting for a few minutes, to perhaps catch the sound
again, Remus gave up. He closed his eyes,
shook his head, and reopened his eyes.
After fifteen more minutes, Draco awoke by snorting and shaking his head quite
un-aristocratically. He stood up and
stretched like a cat after an afternoon of dozing in the summer sun. His neck
cracked and a series of pops could be
heard from his back.
A part of the sun, coming over the Forbidden Forest’s trees, could be seen from
the window and Draco loved
sunrises. Not for any real reason, though. It wasn’t because they symbolized a
new beginning, because they meant
life, or because they were ‘romantic’, but because they were pretty. The
blonde-headed boy had always loved pretty
and beautiful things. And, sunrises were among the most beautiful.
Without an opening of any kind, Draco told this to Remus, who nodded
understandably. The werewolf then picked
himself up and nodded again to Draco, who nodded back.
Remus then left Draco. He assumed Draco could find his way back to his own room
easily enough. When Remus
had made his way back into his bed, which was now cold and uncomfortable, he
realized it was already five thirty
and his alarm would go off in half an hour. He cursed to himself and got out of
bed. Remus took a long shower and
spent the rest of his morning planning his daily lessons.
*
“Remus, do you mind if we talk over a cup of tea after breakfast? I’ve already
arranged for a substitute during your
first class.”
The younger man opened his mouth, but the sound was delayed. Finally: “No, of
course not, Albus; I’d be simply
delighted to accompany you.”
“Good,” the Headmaster replied with a smile one usually doesn’t trust.
*
The old man’s office hadn’t changed much, for the exception of new and
interesting gadgets placed here and there.
All of the portraits were the same, filled with the same people, missing the
same people. Remus Lupin sat down into
a squishy chair the headmaster had magicked up for him seconds earlier. Smoke
could still be seen coming out from
under the piece of furniture.
“What can I do for you, Albus? Is there any business with The Order of which I
should be aware? Any news on
Voldemort?”
The gray-haired man arched his hands into a bridge under his chin and peered
over his spectacles. He remained
silent for many minutes. The werewolf began to grow fidgety - something that
hadn’t happened for at least twenty
years.
After tension became unbearably thick, Dumbledore spoke. Remus exhaled a
colossal sigh.
“You are my good friend, Remus, as you always have been. You are honest, and
would do anything to help a friend.
You are a miraculous teacher, your students adore you, and you would do
anything to help one of them Though,
with you being a werewolf and the full moon coming - in two nights, in fact - I
think your judgment is a little
clouded.”
Remus squinted his eyes and opened his mouth slightly, ready to speak, “I don’t
under-” but Dumbledore continued.
“I strongly think it would be best if you were to leave Draco Malfoy alone
until the end of the year.”
Remus’ eyes grew to abnormal sizes and he opened his mouth again, but to his
surprise no sound emerged.
“I know this may sound like an awkward request, but I have my reasons. I
happened to see the two of you together
last night. I’m sure you heard me when I bumped my shoulder on the statue of
John Knight XVII. I am aware that
nothing happened between you and the boy, but until your judgment is more
focused, I want you to stay away from
Mr. Malfoy. In fact, Remus, I will persuade you to avoid contact with him until
the end of the year.”
“That is completely absur-”
“Excuse me, Professor Lupin?” Professor Dumbledore asked in a surprised tone.
Remus gritted his teeth. He had no idea why he wanted to argue with the
headmaster, but something inside of him -
the wolf, maybe? - kept urging him to just that.
“No, Albus. I will not avoid contact with Draco Malfoy. And that, I admit, is
all I have to say. Good-day.” Remus
stood up briskly and walked out the old oak door.
*
After opening the door to his classroom by slamming it against the wall, Remus
turned to the substitute.
“Professor Swingle, you may return to your classroom, I have everything under
control. Thank you for your
assistance.” Remus’ sour tone was enough to silence everyone in the room.
The elderly man opened his mouth to speak, but decided against it. Mumbling
good-day to Remus, Professor
Swingle left, shutting the door behind him quietly. Remus observed the crack in
the door and the wood shards
plastered to the wall from the impact of the blow. He shook his head and then
turned to his students.
“Forget anything Professor Swingle was teaching you. You will now turn to
chapter thirteen of your books. Page
five-four-seven. I would like you to silently read the chapter and answer the
questions at the end.” Some murmuring
from both the seventh year Slytherins and Gryffindors arose and Remus snapped
his head up and glared at every
talking student. “There is no critical thinking involved, all of the answers
are in the text. This is busy work. It is to
be done by the end of class. Mr. Malfoy, come with me.”
Draco placed his crisp piece of parchment in his battered book, to save his
spot, and stood up. With a sneer upon his
face he walked out the previously beaten door which his Professor was holding
open. Remus followed after one
more glance at his class; they were pretending to read, he knew, but at least
they were being quiet.
Outside, after the werewolf had shut and magically fixed the door, Draco looked
at the man with the tattered robes
and graying hair. “You’re not good looking, you know.”
“Thank you, Draco, that’s exactly what I need right now.” Sarcasm flooded every
word countless times over.
The blonde boy leaned against the wall and shrugged. “I’m here to help.”
Remus rubbed his eyes, ran his fingers through his hair, paced back and forth.
Then, Remus said in an angrily
irritated tone, “I won’t be able to help you anymore, Draco.”
Draco was puzzled. “What do you mean, Remus?”
“Excuse me? Did you just use my first name?”
“Well,” Draco reasoned, more to the air than to his professor, “you call me
Draco. I only thinks it’s fair.”
“The teacher-student relationship does not consist of-”
“What if our relationship was more than teacher-student?”
After Remus rapidly opened his eyes he slowly raised his head. “That would
never happen.”
“Are you saying I’m not good enough?!” Draco was clearly offended. “I should be
the one saying you’re not-”
Remus rolled his eyes and said ‘no’ in a voice as quiet as Draco’s was loud.
The boy shut up and looked appalled.
“I’m saying I’m forbidden to see you.” He quickly continued before Draco could
say anything, “Your Headmaster
has this idea that-”
But Draco interrupted anyway. There’s no way to shut him up… Remus later
thought. “Does he think that
you’re a child molester?” Draco looked even more offended than he had earlier.
“It’s not like I have the body of a
four-year-old. I’m seventeen and have an amazing body. I don’t just play
Quidditch for fun, you know! Here,” he
grabbed the older man’s hands and placed them just above his stomach, “feel
these abs! These are not four-year-old
abs! The old bugger’s just afraid of him! My father, that is. He’s Voldermort’s
lapdog - literally as well as
figuratively - and Dumbledore might be the most powerful wizard in the world,
but ol’ Voldy’s getting there. He’s
getting more and more powerful everyday and soon ... well, you know. That’s the
day that I’m dreading, and
Dumbledore should be dreading it, too!”
Remus was speechless as Draco looked into his eyes. The boy’s positive sureness
was amazing, Remus mused. He
was strong, mentally as well as physically, which confirmed Remus’ suspicions
as to why Draco never told anyone
about his abuse.
After inhaling a deep breath, Draco realized where Remus’ hands were - still
held firmly against his chest and
abdomen. The blonde boy started to blush a light peach after he realized the
intimacy of the whole situation.
Remus noticed the change in Draco’s complexion and felt it proper to move his
hands away from Draco’s chest.
Where he chose to move his hands - around the boy’s waist - might not have been
the best option, but Draco didn’t
really seem to care. Instead, Draco did not pull away and opted to slide his
hands around the other man’s waist.
Leaning his head on Remus’ shoulder, Draco spoke softly, “If Dumbledore thinks
he can keep you away from me,
he’s mental. I’m still a Malfoy, no matter what, and Malfoys always get what
they want.”
Whispering at the same level as Draco, Remus responded, “I thought you said you
liked pretty things.”
“I do, but what does that have to do with any-”
Remus smiled slightly. “You said I’m not that good looking.”
The young man paused. “You’re not; you are old and battered and poor. The
thought of me even being near you is
absurd,” Draco admitted with ease. He then turned his head to face the
werewolf, “Nevertheless, your insides aren’t
half bad.”
Remus admired the boy’s blue eyes. Inside his eyes was obvious pain that would
take a long time to heal. The
werewolf carefully brushed Draco’s forehead with his lips. He said, in his
softest voice, not wanting to break the
serenity of it all, “We have to go back to class.”
Draco released the man as if by Sergeant’s command and stepped back. “The last
time someone said that to me, it
was after I had fucked one of the Hufflepuff girls.”
“I’m still your teacher, Draco, and there are some things you shouldn’t say,
even to me.”
The last heir to the Malfoy fortune laughed bitterly. “You’re my teacher,
that’s true, but I think I could say anything
around you. Oddly enough, I trust you.”
“A Malfoy’s trust. Not something I’ve always wanted, I’ll admit, but something
I can still respect.”
Remus knew all of this was wrong: a student with a teacher; this had Azkaban
written all over it. But, he thought in
cliché, how could any of this be wrong?
“Draco, despite what you think, what’s happened to you, or anything of the
like, I won’t do anything you’re not
comfortable with.”
A humorless look was quick to appear on his face. “Like I said, Remus, I trust
you.”
Without waiting for a response from the older man, Draco opened the door to the
DADA classroom and took his
seat. Remus followed with an outward manner full of seriousness, and an inner
feeling of raw, unconfined bliss.
                                     -Fin-
A/N: Whew. I was nervous about this. Concern is the first fic I've posted
online. Please
review, with either applause or constructive criticism; both will be
appreciated. Also remember
that I am currently without a beta. Gah.
-Acidic
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