Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/3342317.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Rape/Non-Con, Underage
  Category:
      F/M, M/M, Multi
  Fandom:
      Harry_Potter_-_J._K._Rowling
  Relationship:
      Sirius_Black/Remus_Lupin, Remus_Lupin/James_Potter, Remus_Lupin/Bill
      Weasley, Remus_Lupin/Severus_Snape, Remus_Lupin/Peter_Pettigrew, Sirius
      Black/Remus_Lupin/Peter_Pettigrew/James_Potter, Remus_Lupin/Lily_Evans
      Potter, Remus_Lupin/Kingsley_Shacklebolt, Remus_Lupin/Gideon_Prewett,
      Sirius_Black/James_Potter, Sirius_Black/Remus_Lupin/Peter_Pettigrew,
      Sirius_Black/Remus_Lupin/Peter_Pettigrew/James_Potter/Lily_Evans_Potter,
      Remus_Lupin/Bloody_Baron, Remus_Lupin/Original_Female_Character(s)
  Character:
      Remus_Lupin, Sirius_Black, Lily_Evans_Potter, Peter_Pettigrew, James
      Potter, Severus_Snape, Kingsley_Shacklebolt, Gideon_Prewett, Fabian
      Prewett, Bill_Weasley, Original_Female_Character(s), Minerva_McGonagall,
      Andromeda_Black_Tonks, Ted_Tonks, The_Bloody_Baron
  Additional Tags:
      Light_BDSM, Food_Sex, Bodyswap, Genderswap, Oral_Sex, Orgy, Crossdressing
      Kink, Polyamory, Sexual_Experimentation, Alternate_Universe, Many_Kinks,
      Sibling_Incest, Twincest, foreign_objects, Drug_Use, Semi-Public_Sex,
      Outdoor_Sex, Phone_Sex, Ghost_Sex, Animagus_Bestiality, Polyjuice_Potion,
      Mildly_Dubious_Consent, Mistaken_Identity, Pegging, Daisy_Chaining,
      Shaving, Bathtub_Sex, Strangulation, auto
  Stats:
      Published: 2015-02-13 Chapters: 31/31 Words: 71889
****** The Kink-a-Day Calendar ******
by GwendolynGrace
Summary
     In which Peter Pettigrew has an idea that generates much more
     trouble, pleasure, and self-discovery than any of them anticipated.
     This fic was originally written for the "Pervy Werewolf" LJ
     Community's "Lusty Month of May" fest, in which authors were
     challenged to post every day in May with a different kink, involving
     Remus Lupin. I chose instead to write a single story, connected
     throughout each "chapter" - because I'm insane.
     There are many different kinks and many different pairings in this
     fic! Caveat Lector.
     NOTE: This work of fiction was published in 2004, so there are
     canonical errors and things we did not yet know!
***** In which Peter has an idea, and the premise for the next 30 chapters is
revealed *****
Peter laid out the idea without flinching. The others stared at each other for
a few minutes, as if trying to see whose disbelief would be greater. Sirius
recovered the power of speech first. ‘You have got to be joking.’
‘It would sell, though, you know it would sell,’ Peter insisted.
‘It would certainly sell,’ James replied. ‘Us up the river! We could get
expelled!’
‘Like you won’t get expelled for being an unregistered Animagus, James?’ Remus
asked mildly. ‘I like the idea. I think it has possibilities.’
‘A “Kink-a-day Calendar?”’ James’s voice cracked. ‘Lily would kill me.’
‘Actually, Lily’s all up for it,’ Peter said, blushing. ‘She volunteered to,
er, help. Modeling and so on.’
‘I have died and gone to heaven,’ Sirius announced, rising to his feet with
excitement. ‘James, now we have to do it.’
‘Twat. You just want to see Lily in knickers.’
‘You bet I do,’ Sirius said, but to his surprise, he wasn’t alone.
‘Of course we do,’ Remus said softly.
James stared at him. ‘Everyone wants to see Lily in knickers?’ They nodded.
‘The whole school. Hell, I’d bet half of Wizarding Britain would pay for
pictures of Lily in, um, compromising positions.’
James gaped at them, shaking his head.
‘Then it’s settled,’ Peter said brightly. ‘Might as well start by listing the
kinks we need to research.’
‘Research?’ Sirius’s head snapped up.
‘Well, yes, Pads,’ Remus answered guilelessly, kneeling on the bed behind him.
‘We’re not all experts on every kind of kink there is, are we? We’re not going
to be able to produce this calendar without a lot of…fieldwork.’ He grinned
like a predator and snaked his arms around Sirius from behind, resting his
hands on the other boy’s pectorals.
‘Hey, that tickles,’ Sirius began to say, but then Remus began feathering the
back of his neck with kisses and his protest turned into a moan of pleasure.
Remus pulled on Sirius’s shirt to lift the light cotton away from his skin,
pushed his hands underneath the rolled cloth, traced his nails over Sirius’s
nipples and then pinched lightly. ‘Oh….’
Sirius leaned back into Remus’s arms, then felt himself sinking lower, onto the
bed, and Remus threw one leg over his waist. Pinned, he reached up to pull
Remus’s mouth down onto his own. Remus pushed their pelvises together, grinding
back and forth, and Sirius’s hands wandered down Remus’s back to his ass. They
continued snogging, hands moving, oblivious to their roommates. Sirius pushed
up, and they rolled across the bed. Remus locked his legs around Sirius’s waist
and they rubbed against each other rapidly.
‘Oh, yeah,’ Sirius groaned, breath coming in short pants now, and Remus
chuckled low in his throat. They went to work on each other’s mouths with their
tongues, licking, sampling, never ceasing the motions of their groins. ‘Right
there, yeah, right there….’
Peter exchanged a faintly disgusted look with James. As one, they stepped
forward to draw the curtains around Sirius’s bed. The lovers took no notice.
‘Right,’ said Peter over the muffled sounds of lovemaking within. ‘That’s one
kink right there: exhibitionist poufters.’
 
TBC….
***** In which the boys research their kinks *****
‘Can we do bondage and domination as separate entries?’ Peter asked a few days
later in the library.
‘I think so,’ Remus answered with a shrug. ‘They’re often done together, but
they’re not the same thing.’
‘What about sadomasochism, then?’ Sirius asked. ‘Split that out, too, do you
think?’
‘Shh,’ James cautioned, as Madam Pince gave them a baleful glance from her
desk. They were sitting in a small grouping of sofas and chairs before a snug
little fireplace, making their list per Peter’s suggestion.
‘Okay, so with those four as separate kinks, we’ve got…’ Peter ran his thumb
down the page, ‘forty-five. Lads, I never knew it was possible to be so
perverted.’
‘Well, only if someone has all of them….still, 365’s a long way to go, isn’t
it?’ James tapped his quill against his cheek. ‘Maybe if we took some of the
large categories and—’
‘—Broke them down?’ Remus jumped in. ‘Yeah, I was thinking about that, myself.
Toys, Fetishes, even Role-playing and bondage…there are a lot of sub-categories
in there. I bet we could double the number, easily. But that still only gets us
a quarter of the way through the year.’
‘Well, we’ll just have to keep looking, won’t we?’ Sirius shrugged and got to
his feet. ‘Remus, come on, we’ve got Runes.’
Remus looked about to disagree, but then he took the hand Sirius offered and
used it to pull himself out of the leather couch. ‘You two have another free
hour before Charms, so see what you can find back in the stacks.’
At James and Peter’s nods, Sirius and Remus gathered up their bags and books
and left the library.
‘Sirius, we don’t have class, mmff….’ Remus began, but his protest was
swallowed when Sirius pushed him against the wall and pressed his tongue inside
the other’s mouth.
‘I know,’ he answered into Remus’s ear when he came up for air. ‘But talking
about all those kinks…makes me want to do you right now.’
‘Men’s room, men’s room, then,’ Remus panted, nodding. ‘In front of James and
Peter’s one thing, but Merlin, Sirius, anyone could….’
Sirius didn’t answer; he just tugged on Remus’s hand and made a beeline for the
nearest bathroom. They crashed through the door, but then took a few more
cautious moments to check the urinals and under all the cubicle doors to make
sure they were alone.
‘Last one,’ Sirius ordered. ‘S’got more room, up against the wall.’ Remus
didn’t need to be told twice. In moments, with the door locked behind them,
Sirius had Remus back in the same position as in the corridor, only this time,
he was busily pulling Remus’s robes up to his waist, reaching out for Remus’s
trouser fly, unzipping, plunging his hand into the gap and unbuttoning the
single button of his boxers. Remus’s prick popped out immediately, as if it had
been held in place only by the limitations of its fabric prison.
Sirius dropped to his knees in the cramped cubicle, angling Remus slightly so
that he could hold on without hitting his elbows against the toilet. He kissed
the underside of Remus’s cock, licking along the line provided by the purplish
vein. Then, as he reached the tip, he opened his mouth wide and tried to relax
his throat muscles. No good; he still gagged a bit, so he pulled back just
enough for comfort and began to suck.
Remus alternated between lifting onto his toes and bending his knees, trying to
help Sirius establish rhythm. He pushed his fingertips against the back of
Sirius’s scalp, guiding forward, backward, hoping Sirius would feel the subtle
signals. Sirius tried to keep up, but Remus’s prick seemed to have a life of
its own; it jumped and twitched in reaction, and every once in a while popped
out of Sirius’s mouth with an odd, comical squelching sound. Sirius finally put
one hand on the shaft to steady it.
‘Oh,’ Remus said approvingly. ‘That’s…squeeze just a little….’ And Sirius did.
Sensation flooded Remus’s groin, shutting down his brain. He slammed himself
into the wall, back out into Sirius’s mouth, over and over, until he felt his
climax subside. ‘Move over…’ he managed to say before he slid down the
flagstones, weak-kneed with afterglow.
‘Better that time?’ Sirius asked tentatively. Remus opened eyes he hadn’t
remembered closing. He held up one hand weakly and Sirius leaned up against his
palm eagerly.
‘Best yet,’ Remus assured him. ‘You need a quick wank?’
TBC....
***** In which Sirius and Remus finish what they started *****
‘Fuck yes,’ Sirius said, fumbling under his robes. Remus smiled and laughed
silently.
Sirius pulled out his own penis and began to stroke himself. Remus stretched
out his hand to join his lover’s, but Sirius slapped it away with his free one.
‘Don’t,’ he said, leaning back against the wall of the cubicle. ‘Just stay
there, like that, with your knees open, and your little soldier all tired out…’
Remus’s eyebrows tried to join his hairline. ‘Okay, maybe not so worn out…’
Sirius amended as he saw the effect his words had on Remus’s cock. ‘But leave
it there, for a minute,’ Sirius continued. ‘I just want to see you, like
that…know I did that to you….’ Sirius pumped his shaft fervently, watching
Remus across the cubicle. His robes were still up at his waist, his trousers
were unzipped, and his prick, though standing again, was still dripping with
stray drops from his just-completed orgasm.
Watching Sirius watch him, Remus felt his own desire flare again. He tried to
look at Sirius, but he could tell without even looking down that his cock was
erect and ready, despite just being sucked off. He slowly inched his hands,
which were resting on his knees, up his thighs toward his groin.
‘Not yet,’ Sirius pleaded, catching him out. ‘Leave it, I’ll…I promise….’
‘Sirius,’ Remus panted, ‘not that I don’t appreciate it, but love, if you keep
that up, we’ll be stuck in here all day.’
‘Hang on, then…’ Sirius insisted. He let go of his own cock and shifted back
onto his knees, holding up his robes out of the way. ‘Budge up,’ he instructed
as he walked forward on his knees, penis bouncing with every shuffle. Remus
tried not to laugh, but he shifted as far over as he could manage without
running into the toilet.
‘Here,’ Sirius said, picking up Remus’s hand and placing it on his own prick.
He then put his hand on Remus. ‘Together, okay?’
‘Yes,’ Remus breathed, eyes widening.
Before long they were kissing again, shifting awkwardly in the tight space to
gain better grips on each other’s equipment. Remus would pump very fast, then
slow, then fast again, while Sirius kept a more steady rhythm, building up
speed with every stroke.
‘Can…you…squeeze…a bit…more,’ Remus asked as he had a few minutes ago, between
kisses and hard breathing. ‘Just…at the…base….’ And he demonstrated on Sirius.
‘Wow… yes,’ Sirius agreed, duplicating the effect. It took merely three strokes
more for them both to come, one after the other, catching the splatter in their
hands.
‘Does this count as fieldwork?’ Sirius asked on their way out of the bathroom?
Remus kicked him.
TBC….
***** In which Lily shares her talents *****
‘Lads, I think I’ve solved our problem,’ Peter announced at supper a few nights
later. Meals in the Great Hall were always so calamitous, it was the perfect
place for a private conversation.
‘And how do you think you’ve done that?’ James asked with genuine interest.
‘We’ll put up these,’ Peter replied, and with a flourish, he produced three
parchment rolls, which he distributed across the table.
‘Notices?’ Remus frowned, reading them.
‘Yes, but look….’
They looked. It read:
ARE YOU READY TO MEET THE LOVE OF YOUR LIFE? DO YOU SEEK ULTIMATE FULFILLMENT?
DO YOU KNOW WHAT YOU WANT TO GET YOU THERE?
MAGICAL MATCHMAKERS CAN HELP YOU FIND YOUR PERFECT MATE!
THIS INCREDIBLE OFFER IS AVAILABLE FOR ONLY A TWO-SICKLE APPLICATION FEE.
CONFIDENTIALITY GUARANTEED! TELL OUR MAGICAL MATCHMAKERS YOUR INNERMOST
FANTASIES, YOUR DREAM-DATES, THE SECRETS OF YOUR SOUL, AND OUR CONJURING
COUNSELORS WILL CONCOCT A ROMANCE TO STAND THE TEST OF TIME – JUST FOR YOU AND
YOUR PERFECT PRINCE OR PRINCESS.
DON’T WAIT TO FIND YOUR DESTINY! SEND YOUR APPLICATIONS TODAY BY POSTAL OWL TO
BOX 345, HOGSMEADE. INCLUDE YOUR NAME, AGE, SEX, AND A DESCRIPTION OF THE
QUALITIES AND FANTASIES YOU LOOK FOR IN A MATE.
 
‘Two sickles, Peter?’ Remus frowned again. ‘Why charge at all?’
‘Makes it look more legitimate, doesn’t it?’ Peter shrugged. ‘Plus, it’ll pay
for the owl box and all.’
‘And for supplies,’ Sirius put in sagely. ‘I’ve been thinking – a lot of these
kinks require, well, equipment. Where are we going to get it all?’
‘Post order, for some of it,’ James answered. ‘But you make a good point,
Padfoot. We’ll need to make some investments to make this idea pay off.’
‘What idea?’ Lily asked from over James’s shoulder. James jumped. Lily pushed
her way between James and the third-year next to him. ‘Sorry, James. I got
caught by Ermengard Dillygaff. She practically talked my ear off about Wind-
control charms. Honestly. Oh, is this for the calendar?’ she asked in almost
the same breath, catching sight of the parchment in James’s hand.
‘What do you think, Lil?’ Peter asked as she snatched it away from James and
read it.
‘Mm… needs a bit more romance,’ she assessed. ‘You boys just have no idea how
to woo a girl, have you?’
‘None,’ Sirius agreed gamely. ‘But as Remus and I are mostly for blokes—I mean,
for each other,’ he amended over Remus’s irritated ‘ahem’—‘and James has you
already, well….’
‘Oh, very nice,’ Peter commented acerbically.
‘Well, Pete, maybe you should listen to Lily. Might get you a girl or two
before we leave this place yet.’
‘Peter’s doing just fine, Sirius,’ Remus interrupted with a warning tone.
‘Seriously, Lily, can you improve it? Do you think it would work?’
‘Might do,’ Lily assessed the page, biting her lip in thought. ‘I’ll take it
with me, all right? Look it over?’
‘Thanks, Lil. You know if I weren’t gay….’
‘Oh, I know.’ They giggled, but then looked over at the surprised, dreamy
expression on James’s face.
‘James? Hello? Earth to James?’ Lily prodded his arm, then waved a hand in
front of his eyes.
‘I…I didn’t know you had a thing for Lily, Remus,’ James said solemnly.
‘Er…I don’t, James, thanks, have you met my boyfriend?’ Remus answered. ‘Why
are you gone all funny?’
‘Just…thinking. About our list. We…we did say we were going to enlist Lily.’
‘Yeah, as a model. And now an editor, apparently,’ Sirius said.
‘I was thinking about…other things,’ James admitted.
Lily squirmed into James’s lap and kissed him. ‘Such as…’ she prompted.
Peter ignored them, reaching for more trifle.
 
…And that was how they wound up, a few nights later, with Peter out on a date
and their revised notices safely up on the bulletin boards of all four common
rooms, in the seventh-year dormitory, swapping.
‘Are you sure about this?’ Lily asked Remus as she watched Sirius and James
pair off for Sirius’s bed.
‘Yeah, I’m sure,’ Remus said, but he didn’t sound so sure. Lily was gorgeous,
no doubt, and he had fantasized now and then, but she was James’s girl, and,
well, a girl.
‘Relax,’ Lily smiled at him, leaning in for a kiss. She led him to James’s bed
– another fantasy James had only recently confessed – and pressed his shoulders
to make him sit on the coverlet. She knelt down and took off his shoes, one at
a time, caressing each ankle as she did. Then she worked her way between his
legs, her fingers crawling like little spiders up either side of him until they
reached his shirt.
Remus looked over at Sirius’s bed and saw James and Sirius snogging. They
looked almost like brothers – but different enough that the analogy was more
hot than sick. Sirius had confessed to Remus that he and James had practised
their kissing on one another once, when they were alone on a holiday at
Hogwarts. Remus could tell why James would want to kiss Sirius, but seeing them
now, he understood why Sirius would want to kiss James. Why anyone would want
to kiss James. His glasses were askew, now, steaming up, and Sirius lifted them
away from his face and laid them on the bedside stand before returning. James
looked wanton and fresh at the same time. He—
Remus’s attention abruptly returned to his own situation. Lily had ducked her
head and was blowing warm air against his crotch. Her fingers played with his
inner thighs, thinner than Sirius’s fingers, but less tentative, more
practiced. She rubbed her cheek against the bulge in his trousers, then with a
look up to make sure he was watching, she grabbed the zipper pull with her
teeth and dragged down. Slowly, slowly, slowly, his fly opened, and once again,
she rubbed her face against him before continuing. Remus lay back on his
elbows, wanting to give in to the sensation, forget that this was a girl, that
this was Lily, but not wishing to relinquish his view of the others…yet.
Lily took advantage of his weight shift to tug on his waistband and pull his
trousers part-way down. Free of the twill, his penis made a tent out of his
boxers, but she unbuttoned the fly – again with her teeth, gods! – and blew
gently on his curly hair.
Across the room, Sirius and James had removed their shirts. Sirius’s broad
shoulders and pecs engulfed James’s weedier torso in an embrace. Did they look
like that when they held each other, he and Sirius? Did they fit in each
other’s arms that way?
Lily placed her hands on either side of Remus’s hips and pushed herself to her
feet. She obstructed the view, just for a moment, before she walked over and
interrupted the pair by whispering in James’s ear. James looked up, smiled
beautifully, and nodded. Without disentangling himself from Sirius, he reached
up as Lily turned her back to him and pulled her zipper down for her. Sirius
locked eyes with Remus and they smiled at one another.
‘All right?’ he asked casually.
‘All right,’ Remus told him.
Lily stalked back toward him, every step bringing her dress down over her
shoulders, her breasts, her waist, until she snaked her arms out of the sleeves
and dropped the skirt to the ground. Remus had a moment to admire the lace bra
and matching pants and garters before she crawled between his legs again.
‘Watch them, it’s all right,’ she said, running a nail along the side of his
penis. ‘I know you want to see.’
Remus hitched his arms under his hips to hold himself up more comfortably.
Lily, meanwhile, familiarized herself with his erection. She dipped her tongue
to his tip, tasting experimentally, then licked the head all around, down to
the rolled seam of flesh where his circumcision scar formed a ridge between
head and shaft. She pulled on the waistband of his shorts and he lifted his
hips obligingly, just enjoying the feeling, watching his lover and their best
friend tumble against the pillows.
Lily licked his balls and then his shaft, squeezing gently with one hand while
she sucked. She ran the edge of her incisors along his veins lightly, teasing
the flesh with every stroke of her teeth and tongue. Meanwhile, Remus lost
himself in visions of Sirius, his Sirius, taking James’s prick in his hands and
pumping in double-time. He saw James reach down to slow Sirius’s strokes, and
realized with detached amusement that the rhythm he directed for Sirius matched
Lily’s hand.
‘Bit faster, please,’ Remus heard himself saying through dry lips.
Lily obliged, and he felt himself respond. But then she stopped just when
things began to get interesting.
‘Oh, James,’ she called in a sing-song, twisting around to sit in front of
Remus’s spread legs, at the foot of the bed. ‘Remus, unhook me, please,’ she
requested.
Remus sat up, which had the effect of pressing his prick between his stomach
and Lily’s tailbone. It rubbed against the scratchy lace of her garter-belt.
Remus was relieved she asked him to fiddle with the bra where he could see it;
he had only ever done this twice before, and the second time, he had been a
complete bungler about it. Lily’s bra had odd, button-like clasps, but he
managed it without, he hoped, ruining her mood. His own was dwindling at the
reminder that she was a girl, even if she was a game girl.
But Lily didn’t seem to mind. She pushed back a bit against him and swung her
hips side to side. The crinkly lace pressed into his flesh and his hard-on
renewed, despite himself. She leaned forward suddenly, affording him an
excellent view of her crack, and when she straightened up, flipping her curtain
of hair to one side, she held the bra in her hand.
‘Lean back a bit,’ she whispered, laying her head against Remus’s shoulder to
press her lips to his neck. ‘Put your arm around my waist.’
Remus did as he was told, feeling the way his cock slid right along the small
of her back, her spine, between her buttocks. He balanced on one arm and held
her with the other, while she stretched one of her arms over her head to stroke
his hair, and began to touch herself with her free hand.
She cupped her breasts first, one then the other, pinching each nipple to plump
pinkness before moving on. James had worked his way around behind Sirius and
seemed to be mimicking her movements, using Sirius as his model. Then she slid
her hand down the centre of her naval, down one thigh, back up, and ever, ever
so slowly, underneath the elastic band of her knickers.
James’s hands followed her movements, and Remus watched him plunge into
Sirius’s y-fronts. Remus ground his hips against Lily, unable to help himself
at the sight of James and Sirius. James pumped harder, unable to stop himself
at the sight of Lily and Remus. Four sets of lungs drew breaths increasingly
ragged, four heartbeats raced with anticipation.
Then it happened. Lily nodded at James, and as if the two had planned this
moment, they let go of their partners and walked toward one another. They
kissed in the middle of the room and then passed each other, Lily joining
Sirius on his bed, James coming back to his own.
‘You—’ Remus said.
‘Shh,’ James cut him off with a shake of his head. ‘It’s okay. Share and share
alike, Remus.’
TBC….
***** In which Remus learns something *****
They agreed, without ever really speaking of it, not to tell Peter. He would be
unspeakably hurt if he’d known. They all decided they’d make it up to him,
somehow, though they each had different ideas about retribution.
But after that, a few things changed. Remus no longer felt quite so
uncomfortable around girls – well, around Lily. He kept thinking back to the
feel of her, silky skin and satin and lace, and the way her hair smelled, and
the way her tongue moved over his slit when she licked him. Though nothing he
had experienced that night compared to Sirius, of course. Unless it was the way
James felt, sitting on him, holding his dick at the right angle to impale
himself on it.
Remus decided he quite liked fucking James. And Lily, for that matter.
Especially when, a few days later, Lily brought him a present.
‘What is it?’
‘Don’t open it here,’ she told him, dumping her books back into her sack. ‘Put
it in your bag, before the other prefects wonder why I’m giving you gifts, when
I’m engaged to James.’
‘Right.’ But the thought of the slim case distracted him all through the
meeting. Even more than Snape’s scowl. Could it be a wand? He didn’t need a new
wand. Besides, Ollivander didn’t do Owl Order, and there was no place in
Hogsmeade to get a decent wand.
Lily and James left the meeting together, and everyone filed out after them.
Remus avoided the eye of Agility Moncreve, the Ravenclaw fifth-year prefect
who, it seemed, had crushed on him since her arrival at Hogwarts. He ducked
away from the small group and took a shortcut back to Gryffindor Tower.
The box was plain, thin cardboard, with no markings of any kind. It was much
too long for a quill, and only Hagrid would need a wand that long. He lifted
the top and jiggled it to dislodge the bottom, then flipped the top around and
back over to keep it together. Pushing the paper apart, he caught a glimpse of
a brown plait. Leather? He lifted it out.
‘It’s a riding crop,’ Lily said behind him. Remus jumped a foot. ‘I’m sorry – I
didn’t mean to startle you,’ Lily laughed.
‘I…thought you went off with James.’
‘I did, but only to see him off with Peter and Sirius. They’ll keep each other
busy; I’ve told them to start sorting through the owls from the ad.’
‘I doubt Peter realised when he asked for your help, you’d soon become our
Chief Operating Officer,’ Remus said wryly.
Lily merely cocked her head and shrugged. ‘Behind every amazingly strange
business proposition is a woman with a head for management. So, do you like
it?’
Remus looked at the crop again. ‘I don’t ride,’ he said, then realised how
stupid he was being. He blushed. Lily laughed again.
‘Oh, yes you do,’ she said merrily. ‘Lock the door, just in case.’
 
‘Why am I here, and not James?’ Remus asked a few minutes later. He was
contemplating Lily’s perfectly rounded bottom, offered to him while she held on
to one of the posts of Remus’s bed.
‘Oh, James doesn’t really like it,’ Lily said breezily. ‘I mean, he’ll try,
poor dear, but he’s afraid he’ll hurt me. But I think you’ll do well. Just give
it a go.’
Remus thought this had to be the strangest thing he’d ever done. He swished the
crop experimentally once or twice, embarrassed that he quite liked the
whooshing sound it made as it passed through the air. He flicked it again, and
this time aimed for Lily’s arse. The crop grazed her left cheek and she
twitched.
‘Again,’ she coaxed. ‘Aim for the soft part.’
Remus tried again. The crop landed more solidly this time. Lily shuddered.
‘That’s it,’ she said with an approving nod.
It was weird, standing there swatting James’s best girl with a leather switch,
but Remus got the hang of it. Once he landed a few more satisfying thwacks,
once her bottom began to swell and turn red from the welts, once she began to
rock against the bedpost and whimper and beg for more, Remus forgot about
James. He forgot about Sirius. All that mattered was the task at hand.
Hands. He threw down the crop and stepped behind her, caressing the twin orbs
with his palms. She trembled and melted into his cool touch, almost sitting in
the cups of his hands. Remus squeezed reflexively, and she moaned.
She reached behind and grabbed his wrist, pulled it forward to place his hand
on her crotch and pushed his fingers toward the cleft between her legs. They
twisted together and fell on their sides onto the bed, Lily’s hand still
massaging his fingers into herself. Remus shifted his other hand toward the
crack between her cheeks, seeking more familiar territory. With one hand in
front and one behind, he worked her flesh, marveling at the wetness, the way
her body gave beneath his touch. It was so different from being with the few
girls he’d tried to date, before his first experiences with boys. With Jonas.
With Michael. With Sirius.
Lily was writhing now, spooning up against him with every push of his fingers.
A wave of guilt passed over Remus – she probably wanted him to use his tongue,
but he couldn’t quite bring himself to do that. Still, the way she ground her
arse, still pink and warm from the whipping, into his groin…that would produce
results no matter what gender he preferred, Remus thought.
Remus withdrew his finger from her arsehole, reasoning with what little part of
his brain that still worked that she would be less upset at that than if he
took his hand away from her clit. He pushed her away just enough to lift his
robes up between them, to work his fly and free his cock…but in his
concentration, he lost his rhythm inside her. Lily’s thrashing subsided into an
occasional ‘Oh’ of pleasure when he remembered to pulse against her.
‘Sorry,’ he muttered into her hair. Oh, sweet-smelling hair. How did she make
it smell like sandalwood and summer rain?
‘No,’ Lily said, clearly disappointed. She twisted out of his grip, turning to
face him. ‘No, it’s okay. It’s my fault. I shouldn’t push you,’ she said. ‘It’s
just…I’ve always liked you, Remus. A lot. I know you’d never do anything
because of James, and I know, you love Sirius. I love James. I do. But…damn.
I’m so sorry you’re gay.’
‘Apparently not too gay,’ Remus growled, and rolled on top of her. ‘Let’s just
see what happens, okay?’
TBC….
***** In which business booms, and Remus reads a letter *****
Sirius, Peter, and James staked out their usual corner of the common room,
where they could spread out and make some sense out of the owl-posts they had
received. James was astounded by the response so far. He had expected a handful
at most; when Peter returned from the tunnel that afternoon, his briefcase was
half full of letters.
‘This one wants her toes licked,’ Peter reported, nose crinkling in disgust.
‘Yeah, I’ve got one who likes…ew. James, is that physically possible?’ Sirius
held the parchment under the Head Boy’s nose.
‘I think so,’ James said, straightening his glasses. ‘You’d have to be pretty
flexible, though.’
‘I never knew so many students were so warped.’ Sirius shook his head. ‘You’d
think Remus and I were downright normal.’
‘You are,’ Peter said with an eye-roll. ‘Practically an old married couple, you
two. What’s keeping him, anyway?’
‘He and Lily needed to talk about something,’ James volunteered, his voice a
bit thicker than usual. ‘They should be along in time for supper.’
‘Peter, there’s a real future in this dating service thing,’ Sirius continued,
smirking at James’s delicate way of putting it. He gestured to the strewn
envelopes and pages. ‘I mean, seriously, there’s got to be a bird for you in
here, somewhere. But beyond that… think what we could do if we, well….’
‘Set ourselves up as an escort service?’ James interrupted. ‘Hello? Aren’t you
the one who just a minute ago said you’re practically married?’
‘No, I said that,’ Peter said, ‘and you’re the closest thing to a married man
around here.’
‘Right, well, I really don’t think—’ James stopped abruptly, staring down at
the paper in his hands.
‘What?’ both Sirius and Peter asked.
‘This one’s about…me.’
The other two snorted at one another and shook their heads. ‘Figures,’ Peter
muttered.
‘No, I mean it, look,’ James insisted, and he handed Peter the letter.
‘Well, I’d never let you do that to me, in the prefect’s bathroom or on the
back of a broom,’ Peter answered as he passed it to Sirius. ‘But then, you’re
not my type.’
Sirius finished reading and handed it back to James. ‘Don’t let Lily see that,’
he warned. ‘Anyway, wasn’t the point of this exercise so that we could research
all this stuff? We can’t possibly know about it sufficiently if all we’ve done
is read other fantasies, right?’
‘I think we might have a problem,’ Peter said, leafing through the pages and
gathering them in a growing pile.
‘Why?’ Sirius asked.
‘Well, that one was for James,’ Peter answered, taking the letter from James
and adding it to another couple pages. ‘So are these.’ He pointed to another
small pile. ‘These are the ones that mention him, Sirius or Lily. And these are
all non-specific or people we don’t care about,’ he said, pointing to a
slightly larger stack. ‘But these,’ and he plunked down the stack in his hand,
which was easily twice as tall as the third group, ‘are all about Remus.’
 
They told him in the dormitory after dinner. James had said that he didn’t want
his meal ruined by Remus’s head swelling right in front of their eyes. Sirius
had punched James in the shoulder, hard, and reminded him that they were
talking about Remus, not James. Peter sagely predicted that Remus would not be
amused.
All things considered, Remus took the news that he was hands-down the school
hottie rather in stride. He looked at them all in disbelief, including Lily,
who had not stopped smiling since they reappeared just before all going to the
Great Hall, and who now simply nodded as if to say, ‘Of course, he is.’ Then,
with a final pleading look at Sirius, he ran to the nearest bathroom and threw
up.
When he came back from the bathroom, sipping a glass of water, the other four
were arguing about how to use the information in the letters – and the money.
He hovered outside the door to listen.
‘I still say we should make some effort to give them what they ask for,’ James
was saying. ‘After all, we took their money. We should live up to our ad.’
‘James,’ Lily commented sagely, ‘how many letters featured your name?’
‘That’s not the point,’ said James, puffing himself up a bit.
‘Look, I’m not having Remus whoring himself out to half the school,’ Sirius
said angrily, and Remus smiled. ‘I know he’s the most desirable bloke there
ever was – and he’s mine, so they can all piss in the wind.’
‘Fair enough,’ James answered. ‘But don’t you think that’s rather up to Remus
and you, not just you?’
‘Besides,’ Remus heard Peter’s calm interjection, ‘most of the letters for
Remus are from girls, so…they’d be wanting their money back, wouldn’t they?’
‘I’m not as bad as all that,’ Remus said as he entered the room. ‘Let’s see the
letters,’ he sighed, sitting on the bed beside Sirius. Sirius put a protective
arm around his shoulders. ‘Gerroff, Sirius, I’m fine.’
Sirius removed his hand but didn’t hand over the letters. ‘I was just saying
that I don’t want you—’
‘I know,’ Remus told him softly. ‘It’s okay. I just want to have a look. All
right?’
Sirius looked into his eyes for a moment, but then something like shame filled
his face. He ducked his head sheepishly. ‘Yeah, all right.’
Remus patted his lover’s knee and reached out his other hand. Sirius
relinquished the bundle of papers. Remus flipped through them while the others
watched.
‘Jill Abbott, Yolanda Beamish, Beatrice Branstone, Greta Catchlove, Glenda
Chittock, Elfrida Croaker – is she dreaming? – Marisa Edgecombe, Sarah Fawcett,
Benjy Fenwick – ! – Josephine Frobisher, Alicia Gudgeon…there must about a
hundred here.’ He shuffled through the packet. ‘Holy…have you read these yet?’
‘Some of them,’ Peter admitted, blushing. ‘Read Samantha Montgomery’s.
Katherine O’Malley’s isn’t bad, either.’
James leered. ‘Tell us a story, Uncle Remus,’ he pleaded, batting his eyes and
getting comfortable against the headboard of his bed, pulling Lily against his
chest.
Sirius growled at James, but settled back on his pillows and let Remus deal
with it. To his surprise, Remus fished out Samantha Montgomery’s letter and
began to read:
Dear Magical Matchmakers,
It would take powerful magic to match me with the man I want most in the world:
Remus Lupin. He’s a seventh year in Gryffindor at Hogwarts, and he’s just so
dreamy! I think he’s a little bit, well, you know, light in the loafers, as my
Aunt Elizabeth used to say, but if I could be with anyone in the world, it
would be him.
You asked about our fantasies, and this is mine. I suppose I can write this all
down safely enough; after all, confidentiality is guaranteed, right?
Remus would take me into Hogsmeade for tea at Madam Puddifoot’s(‘I hate that
place,’ Remus interjected),and we would sit and have our biscuits and just read
each other’s thoughts without saying a word. Then, he’d walk with me, hand in
hand, to the Meadow Inn, over on Fleet Street, and we’d check in to the room
he’d reserved. Once inside, we’d cast silencing charms all around the room, for
privacy, and Remus would hang out the ‘Do not Disturb’ sign on the door.
Then he’d turn around, and I’d see that look in his eyes. Not many people
probably notice it, but Remus can get a feral sort of hunger shining in those
hazel orbs, and when I see him like that – it’s usually when he’s watching his
mates play for Gryffindor – then I just want him to rip off my clothes and
press into my body. But he won’t. He’ll just look at me, all animal and yet so
controlled, and he’ll say, ‘Come here.’
I’ll rush to meet his demand, and when I arrive in his arms, he’ll push me
away, down to kneel at his feet. He’ll say, ‘You’re an eager thing,’ and I’ll
say, ‘Yes, yes I am.’ He’ll lean down to smooth my hair and lift my chin up to
look at him. Then he’ll say, ‘I wonder if you know how to suck cock.’ And I’ll
rise to my knees and lift his robes, and underneath, he’ll be hard and waiting
for me.
Remus stopped reading, looking round at the others. James and Lily were
snuggling on James’s bed. Lily’s eyes were closed and James had his face buried
in her hair. Peter’s eyes were bright and he nodded encouragingly. ‘It gets
better,’ he said. ‘Go on – you never knew Samantha had this in her, really.’
Remus turned his head to look at Sirius. Sirius also had his eyes closed, one
arm behind his head against the pillows; the other hand rested idly on his hip.
His thumb absently stroked back and forth over his jeans front. ‘Keep reading,’
Peter insisted. Remus sighed, but cleared his throat and continued.
I’ll seduce him with my tongue, right up against the door of the room. I’ll
breathe in his scent, an aroma of dark chocolate and bitter woodsmoke, and
nuzzle his balls before I take them gently in my mouth. He’ll shuck his robe
above me and my hands will wander up over his torso, seeking out the nipples
that I know grow hard with longing for me. He’ll put one hand on my hair as I
lick all around him, wetting him down and blowing warm gusts to ruffle his
short, thick hair. His hand on my head is soothing, as if I am his pet cat and
he is stroking my fur. I’ll purr into his groin, taking his length into my
throat with practised ease. He’ll moan under my touch. I’ll suck and suck,
hungry for the hot spurt to burn my mouth and all the way down, a vintage finer
than any wine. But before I can bring him to release, he’ll gently draw my head
back and reluctantly I’ll let him escape the warm wetness of my mouth.
‘Go to the bed and take off your robes,’ he’ll tell me. It’s an order, but I
can tell that he wants me as much as I want him. I have no wish to displease my
master. I’ll retreat, stripping wantonly before him, eyes locked on his face.
While I slowly unclasp my robe front and push the silky cloth from my
shoulders, revealing the white mounds of my breasts, Remus will reach into a
bag we have brought with us. He’ll take out several instruments for our night’s
pleasure.
Remus stopped again. ‘I think this girl has read too many Bewitchery romances,’
he announced. They all exhorted him to just keep reading. Before he ducked his
head back to the letter, he noted the redness of Lily’s lips. She and James had
been kissing. And Peter was now lying back on his bed, and Sirius…Sirius had
now put his hand inside his trousers. Remus felt an answering shudder in the
area of his own lap, and he pressed on, resolving to look up a bit more often.
By the time I am bared before him, wearing only my heels, stockings, and
garters, Remus has shown me a length of Silkworm’s finest binding ropes, a pair
of nipple clamps with a chain that fastens to a collar, a set of manacles lined
in fur, and a bottle of McGill’s Magical Massage Oil. He tells me to stand
between the posts of the bed, and I comply, languidly lifting my arms to either
side. Remus stands before me, his chest glistening, his prick bobbing slightly
as he moves. He places a manacle on my left wrist, locks it in place, and runs
the Silkworm rope through the link. Then he repeats the process on my right
wrist. As he reaches forward, my breasts brush across his chest; his cock
presses my thigh all too briefly. He smiles again, that feral smile, and I can
feel the heat and wetness between my legs already. Once the rope is looped
through, he climbs onto the bed to tie it off, tugging so that my arms are
stretched tight. I rock back on my heels from the pressure, forcing my knees
straight so that I do not buckle against the bed. Next, I see the black cloth
of the blindfold descend from above my head, and he presses it across my eyes
until the world is black night, though the room is still warm and candlelit
around me. Suddenly the movement of air across my skin is colder, the faint
noise of Remus sliding off the bed is louder. I feel him place a warm finger on
my hand as he walks past me. He trails it all the way up the inside of my arm,
letting the short nail drag against my skin, across the tops of my breasts,
around my nipples, underneath the fleshy mounds, and then up to my right
shoulder and down to the wrist. He breaks contact then, but I can hear him
moving around the room, blowing out a few of the candles, his breath even and
quiet in the dark.
I feel his exhalation against my face and know that he is standing in front of
me again. He grabs my cunt, fingers probing between the labia, searching for my
clit. I gasp and my knees bend, but the ropes hold me in place. He pushes me
back up, pressing my pelvic bone, and finds the spot where friction is divine.
I feel the heat emanate off him first, then his flesh presses my leg again,
followed by the pressure of his chest against mine. A hand spreads between my
shoulder blades. I tip my head up and am met with a kiss.
The kiss deepens, his fingers reach further inside me, and I moan into his
mouth. Contact stops. I am abandoned. ‘No noise,’ he says, his voice hoarse and
gruff from lack of use. He moves away again. I am suspended in space and time,
the air now cooling my lustful crotch.
He is behind me, on the bed. I feel it shift behind my knees, hear the springs
creak softly under his weight. I want that weight to crush me instead. Then
cold metal under rubber pinches my nipple. I stifle a cry of surprise just in
time. The sensation is twinned; both breasts are locked in the harsh, twisting
embrace of the clamps. I feel the collar against my neck and he lifts my hair
with a rush of cold air on my back. He tightens the strap. Next he adjusts the
lead and I feel the clamps tug up, the leash that runs between them and my neck
is taut and snaps flat over my breastbone.
Then he touches my back, and his hands are slick with oil. I drop my head
forward to present him my back, feeling a relief to the upward pull of the
clamps, but my chin is supported on the collar and I cannot roll forward
because of the ropes holding my arms in place. His strong fingers massage the
lotion into my skin, each manipulation of my flesh pulling my breasts within
the clamps deliciously. The oil grows warm with every swipe, and soon I am
burning and slippery, ready for him to grind and slide against me.
From behind, I feel his manhood push its way between my legs. I shift,
spreading them apart for him. He reaches inside me again, testing how wet I am,
how much I ache for him. Every movement stretches the tautness between my
collar and my imprisoned nipples. Every straining muscle twitch from my arms,
strung between the bedposts, causes ripples of sensation to pass through me.
Remus kisses the back of my neck and I lean into his touch. I throw back my
head to rest on his shoulder; the clamps tighten once more. He steadies himself
beneath me and I open for him. Every thrust pushes me up against my bonds,
sending jolts through my arms and chest and pelvis…. Every scrape of body
against body produces more heat mixed with sweat and sweet oils. He pounds into
my hole and presses me against my restraints until we both climax, breaking our
vow of silence….
 
Remus trailed off as the letter went on to plead with the Magical Matchmakers;
they had no idea how long she had dreamed of that moment, and if there was any
way they could intercede, for she was certain Remus J. Lupin did not even know
she existed….
Looking around the room, he felt cheated. He, the subject of the interlude, had
been forced to read aloud, while the others had all been free to go to a
private fantasy-land of their own. Even Peter was obliviously busy. But then
Sirius saw that he had dropped the parchment, and he pinned him to the
mattress.
‘Right, well, Samantha Montgomery will never get her wish,’ Sirius said as he
attacked Remus with fervor, ‘but I’m sure as hell going to see about owl-
ordering some nipple clamps!’
TBC….
***** In which Remus makes a discovery, and a date? *****
Remus had a problem.
Thanks to the dozens of letters they had received in which he figured
prominently, he could scarcely walk through the corridors without seeing
someone whom he knew fantasized about him, often quite vividly.
Every class he attended held at least one young woman or man who had named him
a lover of choice. He jumped when anyone spoke to him; blushed and stammered
when he had to reply. His class participation was down, he knew, and his
concentration suffered as well. If he weren’t careful, his marks would drop
soon.
Meanwhile, James, Sirius, Lily, and Peter debated continually over whether they
should honour the requests expressed in their responses. While they all agreed
with Sirius, who forcefully insisted that Remus would not become the school
whore just for a research project spun out of control, James felt a certain
obligation to the students who thought they were enrolling in a dating service.
Peter and Lily decided that perhaps the best course was to glean what they
could from the letters in terms of research, and then try to match people up
based on interests, in the cases of people who named one of them.
Still, Remus could not control his embarrassment. He was also a little miffed
at Sirius for assuming that they shouldn’t play the field a little more. His
experiences with Lily had taught him that there were some pleasures he wasn’t
yet ready to give up on for “married” life. Moreover, despite what Sirius
claimed, Remus was fairly certain that Sirius had not really meant that he
wanted to be exclusive; merely that he didn’t want Remus sleeping with half the
school. Remus agreed on that point: there were a number of people whose letters
had been disturbing, to say the least. But certain others….
‘Oi, Remus!’
Like Gideon Prewett, for example.
‘Hullo, Gideon,’ Remus smiled weakly.
‘Fabian and me were wondering if you’d be willing to coach us on Astronomy
sometime this week. OWLs, you know,’ he grimaced. ‘Would a week and Thursday be
all right? Only, we’re pretty sure Professor Sinistra’s planning a few quizzes
in the next couple weeks, before the finals at end of term.’
‘Oh,’ Remus answered, looking for a means of escape. Gideon’s fantasy had begun
in the Astronomy Tower, though his twin had been absent in his letter. ‘I, um,
well, that is to say…sure, I’d be happy to help,’ Remus gave in with a sigh.
Why did he always have to be such a pushover? Why couldn’t he ever be rude,
like James or Sirius?
‘Great!’ Gideon beamed at him. ‘Peter says you always got top marks in
Astronomy, and we’ve got a lot to cover. See you next Thursday, then?’
‘Cheers,’ Remus answered, relieved to see Gideon shift his book-bag and move on
down the corridor.
But then Gideon stopped and turned round. ‘Oh and, er, if it’s all right with
you, don’t tell Lucinda? She’s been nagging after me to ask her for help for
ages.’
‘No problem,’ Remus said, truly confused. He watched Gideon turn again, his
hips not exactly swaying on his slender, waif-like frame. He and Fabian were
twins, but by no means were they identical. Gideon was smaller in almost every
way, more sensitive, more fragile, almost. But his light build made him an
excellent Seeker and his attractive grey eyes fluttered behind lids with the
longest lashes Remus had ever seen on a boy. Shaking his head free of the
image, Remus headed to his next class.
 
‘Remus, come look at this catalogue,’ Sirius beckoned when he arrived in the
common room that evening.
Remus came over, blushed profusely, and said, ‘Put that away, Sirius, do you
want us to get caught?’
‘By whom, Moony? You’re a prefect; James and Lily are Head Boy and Girl. Who’s
going to confiscate it?’
‘All right, but don’t wave it round, then. Other people will see it,’ he
pleaded to Sirius’s albeit tiny sense of reason.
‘Steady on,’ Sirius laughed. ‘I’m not that daft. But check this out!’ He
flipped to a particular page and what Remus saw there made him more than
blush…it made him hard.
The page showed an assortment of leather clothing, including corsets, collars,
hoods with zippers in strategic places, and… ‘How the hell does anyone wear
that?’ Remus breathed, looking at an intricate web of straps.
‘There’s a model, see?’ Sirius held up the facing page. A woman hung suspended
in the straps, wearing one of the zippered hoods. Remus gaped at the
photograph.
‘It’s a Muggle catalogue,’ Sirius went on, as if that made its appeal even more
illicit. ‘But look what’s in the back.’ He flipped the pages again and showed
Remus three whole pages of books, recordings, and short films. ‘I haven’t any
idea how a projector would work here, though,’ Sirius said with a sigh. ‘I
never even imagined…. This idea of Peter’s is turning out to be the best!’
Remus licked his lips. ‘Upstairs, you,’ he whispered into Sirius’s ear, breath
heaving. ‘Now.’ He yanked the catalogue away and stuffed it in his bag for
safekeeping.
They raced up the staircase to their dormitory room, and after a cursory check
to make sure they were alone, Remus dropped his bags and wrestled Sirius to the
closest bed. In mere moments, he had Sirius’s robes open, one knee grinding
against Sirius’s already bulging crotch.
‘Mmff,’ Sirius said, but whatever he meant was lost as Remus thrust his tongue
inside Sirius’s mouth.
‘Where did you get that naughty little catalogue, then, Sirius?’ Remus asked
him as he tugged Sirius’s t-shirt out from his trousers.
‘Came…mmff…complimmmfftery…with our ordermmmfff,’ Sirius answered. ‘The mmmfff…
and the—oh!’ His explanation turned into a moan of pleasure. Remus had lowered
his pelvis against Sirius’s groin, rubbing their erections against one another.
‘Tsk, tsk, tsk, Mr Black,’ Remus clicked his tongue and shook his head,
catching Sirius’s wrists in his grip. ‘You know better than to import
contraband onto school property. I’m afraid I’ll have to…punish you.’
Sirius’s eyes grew brighter. ‘Punish me?’ he asked with a broadening smile.
‘Ooh, this is new. Go on, then. What’s my punishment?’
Remus paused, thinking. ‘Well, first,’ he said, licking Sirius’s ear to buy
himself a little time, ‘I think you’ll be confined to quarters for the rest of
the night.’
‘Sounds delightful,’ Sirius answered. He hooked his knees around Remus’s hips,
pulling their groins together harder. ‘What else?’
Remus rolled out of the circle of Sirius’s legs easily. ‘Well, I think you’re a
significant flight risk, so strip. No clothes, no cloak: no leaving the tower.’
‘As you wish,’ Sirius grinned in reply, and he rolled off the bed. He finished
pulling his shirt-tails out of his trousers, inching them up first one side of
his torso, then the other. Remus leaned sat on the edge of the bed with the
feeling that this show might take a while. Sirius tugged on the back of his
shirt and turned away just as he lifted it over his head, showing Remus his
back. The t-shirt was still bunched on his upper arms and across his chest. He
turned clockwise slowly, dragging the folds of fabric down one muscular arm,
keeping the shirt clutched across his chest and the other arm to conceal his
flesh from view. By the time he faced Remus again, his right arm was bare. He
swiped his chest with the loose half of the shirt, rubbing himself all over
before plucking at the sleeve to pull it off, then tossed it at Remus
teasingly.
Next, he turned to the bed behind him and lifted one leg to the covers, showing
just a bit of bare ankle as he untied his shoe with two fingers. He cupped the
heel of the shoe and pulled it off, then rolled down his sock, for all the
world as if it were a silk stocking. Remus laughed, but stopped abruptly when
Sirius glared at him. The devil played in Sirius’s eyes, and he pulled the sock
taut before releasing it at Remus. The springy projectile narrowly missed
hitting him in the eye. Sirius toed off the other shoe and kicked it at Remus’s
stomach.
‘Hey!’ Remus said as he caught the shoe reflexively. ‘Are you bucking for more
punishment, here, or what?’
Sirius just cocked an eyebrow at him and shrugged. ‘What are you going to make
me do, suck you off?’
Remus chuckled. ‘You wish. I have plans for your insolence, you know. Now
continue before I think of something really horrible to do with you.’
Sirius pulled off his other sock in a hurry, but then seemed to remember he was
trying to be seductive. He ran his hands over his chest again and down his ribs
until his fingers came to rest on his belt. He snaked the end out of the loop,
pulled back to release the buckle tab, and slid the buckle off the flat end.
Then he pulled on the buckle evenly, drawing it out of his belt loops, wrapping
it around himself as he unwound it from his waist. When it came free, he
snapped the two ends together, cracked them a couple times, and flipped the end
toward Remus. Remus caught it and began to reel Sirius in. It only took two
steps, but Sirius yanked the belt away when he was an inch from Remus’s face.
He suspended the flat end of the belt over Remus’s lap, then slowly lowered it,
coiling the leather like a snake across Remus’s legs. Remus’s erection bobbed
inside his robes, disturbing the perfect spiral of the belt.
Then Sirius’s hands wandered once more to his waistband. He swiveled his hips
forward and back, round in circles, as he fingered the button on his trouser-
front. He ran his fingers down the smooth fly and back up, then unbuttoned the
top of his trousers. Then he sank to his knees on the bed, straddling Remus but
not lowering his weight. He picked up Remus’s hand, set it to his zipper pull,
and guided him to unlock the teeth of the zipper, allowing the bulge underneath
to poke out and just barely scrape Remus’s chest. A small wet spot formed where
Sirius’s shorts were stretching most.
Sirius put Remus’s hands back down at his sides and slid off the bed. He opened
one side of the front flap, then the other, then turned again and eased the
trousers around his rump, letting them fall to the floor. He stepped out and
away from Remus, kicking the garment across the floor and out of the way. Then
he rolled his shorts waistband down once, twice, and whisked off his y-fronts
quickly, spreading his legs immediately so Remus got a good view of his arse.
With one hand on the floor, he bent his knees a few times and peeked at Remus
around each leg, flirting outrageously.
He rose, rolling his spine vertical, and covered his groin with hands like fig
leaves, turned, and then presented himself with a broad ‘Ta-da!’
‘Idiot,’ Remus said, breathing hard. ‘Now get over here and on your back, so I
can fuck you through the mattress.’
Sirius pounced onto the bed, splaying himself eagerly with his hands behind his
head and his legs spread wide. Remus smirked at him and, although he was aching
to make good on his threat, he decided to torture Sirius just a bit more first.
‘Good. Now stay put, and I’ll be back soon.’
Sirius’s eyes widened. ‘But you said….’
‘And I will, my sick little puppy. But not quite yet. Don’t move, now,’ he
wagged a finger at Sirius warningly. Just before he reached the door, he turned
back, a malicious smile crossing his face, ‘Oh, and while you’re there, do
think about what you’ve done to deserve this.’ He made quickly for the
bathroom, reassured by the ripples of Sirius’s laughter behind him.
Remus thought of Sirius lying supine on the bed, his prick sticking straight
up, his knees practically hanging over the bedframe, slowly getting gooseflesh
while waiting for his lover, as he locked himself in a cubicle to relieve his
immediate need. But even as the image floated before him, it transmuted by
small increments. Remus couldn’t help imagining light brown hair instead of
black, a slighter frame with shorter legs, a face with a longer chin and an
upturned nose, eyes as grey as Gideon’s, and a vision of intricate straps
encasing a fifth year’s body….
Yes, he decided. He and Sirius would come to an agreement about a little extra-
curricular activity.
TBC….
***** In which Peter makes a confession *****
When Remus returned, Sirius looked up in anticipation. He was still splayed out
on the bed, his erection jumping with every breath.
‘Remus, I can’t stay like this much longer,’ he begged immediately. ‘I’ll be
good, I promise, only….’
‘Okay,’ Remus shushed him, closing the dormitory door and crawling onto the
foot of the bed. He pulled the curtains closed, too, just in case. He was glad
he had wanked off moments before – he was already getting hard again at the
sight of the real Sirius. But he needed to hold off just a bit longer, until he
got what he really wanted. ‘I’ll get to you soon enough, I swear. Only there’s
something I wanted to talk about first.’
Sirius’s eyes widened in pain. ‘You want to talk? Now? Moony, I think you’re
taking this punishment deal too far.’
‘I mean it,’ Remus frowned at him. ‘I want your full and undivided attention,
Sirius, and this is the only time I ever get it.’ He closed his eyes, ashamed
at his own harshness. ‘That…came out wrong.’
‘I promise I’ll hang on your every word, Remus,’ Sirius answered, trailing one
foot up Remus’s side, ‘but please, let’s just do it, okay?’
Remus looked down at Sirius’s red, swollen cock. He leaned over, stopping with
his mouth centimeters away from the tip. ‘You mean,’ he said, his breath
creating enough breeze for Sirius’s prick to sway a bit, ‘that if I take care
of this,’ he licked the slit with the very tip of his tongue, ‘you’ll listen to
me afterward?’
‘Gods, yes!’ Sirius shouted, but it was too late. He plunged his hands over his
own balls, and Remus barely had time to open his mouth over the head before
Sirius was shooting madly.
‘I’m sorry,’ Remus said a few minutes later. ‘That was unfair of me. I’ll do
better in a few minutes, okay?
Sirius, now on his side and considerably calmer, nodded weakly. ‘What’s so
important?’
‘I wanted to talk to you about some of those letters.’
Sirius scowled. ‘You don’t have to worry about any of them, Remus. They’re just
not as lucky as I am.’
‘No, they’re not. But…I think, I’d like for some of them to get a shot at it.’
Sirius sat up against the headboard. He seemed very still – not in the sense
that he was motionless, but that he had somehow shut down inside. ‘What are you
talking about?’ he asked after a couple minutes.
‘I love you, Sirius. You know that?’ Remus waited for his answering nod to
continue. ‘I’m not going to forget that, or lose sight of it. But…well, when we
switched with Lily and James, that was….’
‘Amazing…Yeah,’ Sirius agreed.
‘And you know about Lily, right?’
‘Yeah, James told me. I’m kinda glad about that,’ he admitted. ‘Makes me feel
less a heel for thinking she’s hot.’
‘Good,’ Remus smiled and put a hand on Sirius’s stomach. ‘Because I really
liked being with her. And James, for that matter.’
‘Course you did; he’s James. I’m fine with all that, Remus. Wouldn’t mind if it
happened again.’
‘Okay,’ Remus said encouragingly and encouraged. ‘Well, then. I know you liked
some of the letters that were written about you, right? Elizabeth Stevens?
Frank Longbottom?’
Sirius squirmed a bit. He reached for his robes. ‘I’m cold,’ he explained
unnecessarily. ‘Uh…yeah, I guess. Lizzie’s letter was about as hot as
Samantha’s.’
‘So, am I right in thinking you wouldn’t mind if I gave you permission to…chat
her up?’
Sirius chewed on that a while. He drew his knees to his chest. ‘I guess not.’
Remus nodded. ‘You’d like that, I think, wouldn’t you?’ he pressed.
‘Yeah. I would,’ Sirius admitted. But then he looked up sharply. ‘But it
doesn’t mean I don’t love you!’
‘I know, puppy,’ Remus laughed gently. ‘Well, it doesn’t mean I don’t love you,
if I want to chat up Kingsley or Keischa Shacklebolt…or Gideon Prewett.’ There.
He’d finally got round to it.
‘I…you…but I thought you hated all those letters about you,’ Sirius protested
lamely.
‘Not all of them,’ Remus told him with a shrug. ‘Tell you what. Let’s shag
mercilessly for a bit. Then let’s look over the letters and each pick out the
ones we’d like to pursue. Show them to each other. If you pick a letter and I
really don’t want you to be with that person, I’ll veto. You can do the same
for me, but we each get to pick out at least three for starters. See how it
goes. Deal?’
Sirius scratched his nose. ‘Ask me again after the merciless shagging part?’
 
The appeal to Sirius’s ego worked eventually. They agreed to pick out their top
five choices, with the power to veto up to two apiece. Sirius picked out Frank
Longbottom (whom Remus knew had been a frequent subject of talk among the
Quidditch-crazy), Marina Pendleton, and Tanya Bennett (who had a particularly
filthy scenario in her letter, including – Remus shuddered – a golden shower).
For himself, there was no doubt in his mind about Gideon Prewett. He had been
torn between Kingsley Shacklebolt and Adrian Montague, but Sirius used a veto
on Adrian. So Kingsley was his second choice. And to Sirius’s surprise,
Katherine O’Malley would be the third on his list.
Meanwhile, their preparation of the calendar itself was progressing, if not
easily, at least steadily. Peter had sent home for his brother’s camera and
they began setting up some poses in their dormitory at night, using Lily and
Sirius (usually either wearing masks or with their faces turned away for
anonymity) as models.
‘Got the supplies, James?’ Peter asked as the door opened on its own. A few
seconds later, James pulled off the invisibility cloak and whisked off the
cover of a large tray of pastries from the kitchen.
‘Perfect,’ Peter said, salivating at the sight. ‘Now…I think Sirius should take
a cruller and…er, well. Use it like a cock ring, Sirius.’
‘Nice, Peter,’ Remus nodded. ‘Got any cream puffs?’ he asked James.
‘But of course!’ James answered in a phony French accent. ‘Lily, how about some
pastries for pasties?’
Remus picked up two fat puffs and carefully pulled apart one at its layered
midsection. He placed it artfully on Lily’s firm nipple. She laughed and the
pastry fell to the ground.
‘Hold still,’ Remus laughed back at her.
‘Sorry, this is just silly,’ Lily said. He repeated the process, this time
using a sticking charm. Then he added the second one with another charm.
‘She needs chocolate,’ Peter assessed, squirming a tiny bit despite his calm
voice. ‘Oh, and Sirius should have some clotted cream right….’ He drew an
outline in the air to demonstrate.
‘Right,’ Remus agreed, taking an éclair off the tray. ‘James, would you like to
do the honours?’ he asked, holding out the éclair and waving at Lily’s pubic
hair. As James went to work, Remus picked up the bowl of clotted cream and the
spoon, and he proceeded to draw a smiley face on Sirius’s chest and abdomen.
James stood up after applying the éclair to Lily’s bush. Like the cream puffs,
he had pulled the top half off, smearing the custard filling into her pubes
delicately. The chocolate frosting on the top of the éclair was perfectly
vertical, approximating the hair it covered.
‘What do you think?’ he asked as he backed up to judge their handiwork.
‘Almost,’ Peter said. ‘Did you get—oh, good,’ he said, seeing he small bowl on
the tray. ‘Remus, the cream?’ Peter accepted the spoon and with a polite,
‘Excuse me, Lil,’ he dolloped into her naval, then anchored a bright red
maraschino cherry into the white foam.
‘Perfect,’ the other two agreed. Peter took off the lens cap and went to work.
Half a roll of film later, Sirius and Lily were divested of their food items.
They shrugged into bathrobes and both declared loudly that showers were
definitely on. James trotted behind with an offer to help scrub Lily’s back and
Remus, after the display he had just seen them play act, felt like he could do
Sirius the same favour, but Peter said, ‘Remus, can you help me clear this all
away?’
‘Right,’ Remus said with a sigh, cursing once more the sense of honourbound
duty his parents had instilled in him. ‘We really made quite a mess, didn’t
we?’
The room was quite disheveled. They had closed all the bed curtains and turned
both Peter’s and James’s beds sideways to form a backdrop. In the course of
posing, Sirius and Lily had each tracked quite a bit of cream, custard, and
chocolate syrup onto the rugs and into the curtains.
‘I don’t think a simple cleaning charm’s going to do it,’ Remus continued. ‘Hm.
Spicinspanificus!’
‘Remus,’ Peter said as he put away the camera tripod, extra lenses, and flash
cubes, and other paraphernalia, ‘there’s something I’ve been wanting to talk to
you about….’
‘Sure, Peter,’ Remus said with a distracted nod. How had they managed to get
chocolate on the windowsill? He cast the spell again and it seemed to work this
time.
‘I…well…I think maybe…yes. Sit down. Please?’
Remus sat, aware of the nervousness in Peter’s voice. ‘What’s wrong?’ he asked,
concerned.
‘I think I might be…in love. With. Someone.’
‘Oh.’ Remus nodded again. ‘And?’
Peter picked over the tray of pastries, selecting a rather large éclair. ‘It’s
someone who would never suspect it.’
‘And you’re worried about telling her?’ Remus concluded. ‘It’s not Lily, is
it?’ he asked confidentially.
‘No. Well, yes, I mean…who isn’t in love with Lily? But no, it’s not Lil.’
Peter looked at Remus. ‘It’s not a girl at all, frankly.’
Remus raised his eyebrows. ‘Oh. I see.’
‘Do you?’ Peter asked eagerly.
‘Well, yes, of course. I understand.’
‘Good,’ said Peter with relief. ‘Then let me show you something?’
Remus shrugged and nodded amiably, figuring that Peter had a poem or a letter
or even a token he wanted to give to the object of his admiration, whoever that
was. But instead, Peter held up the éclair over his mouth, tipped his head up
to it, and snaked his tongue into the crevasse where the custard filling
lurked.
He held the éclair carefully, barely putting pressure on the edges, while his
tongue lapped into the hole and back out, bringing tiny flecks of custard with
it each time. Pink, pointed flesh probed and gently tore the rim of pastry a
bit wider, and once he had a purchase well in place, he closed his lips over
the end of the éclair. His throat muscles began to work and Remus realized with
a mixture of fascination and curiosity that Peter was sucking the crème out of
the center. Peter came up for air and with a piercing look at the effects on
Remus, used his talented tongue to lick a tiny line away from the chocolate
frosting. He dropped to his knees in front of Remus and without looking away,
he tilted his head backward, opened his mouth wide, and inserted the éclair as
far back as he could. Again, his mouth closed over the éclair, again he held it
so gently in lips and fingertips that the soft dough would not tear. Again he
drove his tongue forward, sucking out the deepest recesses of the hollow
pastry. He began to run his finger down the top of the éclair, through the
rivulets of chocolate, until his fingers were covered in the sticky frosting.
Still the pastry itself remained intact. He lifted it out of his mouth, wet and
slick, and nibbled the soggy end with tiny bites. Then that tongue that moments
before seemed pointed came out wide and flat, and he swiped it along the
remains of the chocolate surface, cleaning it in broad, full strokes.
Once the pastry was emptied and cleaned, he held it up to show Remus, whose
eyes were wide and whose breathing had quickened. Remus felt his hands going to
his groin, despite the incongruity of the sight. And then Peter began to work
on his fingers.
He held up one sticky paw, richly coloured from the chocolate, and sucked on
the index finger ecstatically. ‘I’ve been working on my technique,’ he
confessed at last. ‘I know I’m not much to look at,’ he said, pausing to suck
on his pinky finger, ‘but I think you’ll find I’m…capable.’ He demonstrated on
his ring finger. Chocolate smeared his cheeks. ‘Let me show you?’ he repeated,
holding up his hand with its long middle finger still covered in frosting.
Remus shuddered, groaned, and closed his eyes even while his mouth opened to
allow the sound to escape. Peter stood up on his knees and tenderly prodded his
middle finger into Remus’s mouth. Remus closed his lips around the protrusion,
scraping lightly with his teeth, and vaguely he felt Peter’s other hand
reaching under his robes. He felt a moment’s hesitation, one second in which he
could have stopped what was about to happen, but the creamy chocolate stuck to
his tongue and the roof of his mouth, and words failed him.
Peter’s tongue was as accomplished as he promised. Remus tried not to think how
many éclairs had been desiccated for the sake of Peter’s tutelage.
TBC….
***** In which a fantasy is fulfilled *****
Chapter Summary
     "And therefore look you, call me Ganymede"
Peter and Remus talked until Sirius returned from the showers. Peter admitted
that he harboured similar feelings for Sirius, as well, but that he had been
certain of a brush-off from the other boy, whereas he thought with Remus at
least he’d stand half a chance of proving himself. Remus promised to intercede,
if for no other reason than to ease the news of their tryst.
Remus emphasized Peter’s newfound skills when he told Sirius after Peter went
down to the common room for a few hours. Though he never thought he’d be
attracted to their friend, Peter’s eagerness to please soon convinced Sirius
that their convivial friendship could be transferred to something more, at
least on occasion. Peter seemed instinctively to know when to pull back from
them and leave them time to themselves, but Remus resolved to make sure Peter
was included often from then on. Privately, he wondered what would happen when
they told James and Lily about Peter, or Peter about the two of them. Then
again, Peter had an uncanny way of knowing, without being told.
Nevertheless, the situation in Gryffindor Tower was getting cozier all the
time, and distracting Remus even worse than he thought possible. Before Remus
knew what he was about, Gideon passed him in the corridor, reminding him that
he had promised to tutor him and his twin brother that night.
‘Is it Thursday, already?’ Remus asked Gideon, wondering how he was ever going
to find time to write his Transfiguration essay for the end of term. ‘Right…how
about nine o’clock?’ He walked away quickly, self-conscious from the sudden tug
he felt in his loins.
Making his excuses and reminding Sirius and Peter to have fun together, Remus
climbed the Astronomy Tower steps that night, expecting to meet Fabian and
Gideon Prewett. He was painfully aware that he had to hide what he knew from
the younger boy, and to allow things to progress in their own time, without
giving any foreknowledge away. In any event, Remus didn’t expect anything to
happen tonight, since Fabian would be there, too.
He was wrong. He pushed the trap door open and ascended into starlight. The
moon was just past new; barely a crescent-shaped sliver illuminated the stars
around it. Gideon was waiting, bundled in his cloak.
‘Where’s Fabian?’ Remus asked.
‘He had to serve a detention,’ Gideon told him unconvincingly. ‘I can catch him
up later.’ He jumped up to pat the telescope next to him. ‘I was thinking,
since Venus is in retrograde this month, you could help me figure out how close
it is to entering the sixth house? Also, I’m utter crap at plotting charts
based on observation. Maybe you could show me the best way to get the angles
and distances really precise? I’m pretty sure I’ve got Ganymede much too far
away from Jupiter.’
Remus smiled benignly. ‘Sure,’ he said. Snippets of the letter passed before
his eyes. He’ll smile at me in the moonlight…. ‘Why don’t you see if you can
find Venus in the scope, and I’ll get my charts out.’
Gideon smiled, showing white, even teeth, and he bent over the telescope. He
swung the arm too wildly, casting about the sky in a rush.
‘Steady on,’ Remus said, suppressing a chuckle. ‘Little moves, Gideon.’ He
placed a steadying hand on his shoulder. He’ll lean behind me, his hands
guiding mine on the knobs…. Remus tried non-chalantly to hold out his arms on
either side of his pupil. ‘Here, let me focus it for you…describe what you’re
looking at. Is it a sort of box with three stars on one side?’
‘Yeah, it’s…it’s got a bright star in the middle and four smaller ones that
make corners.’
Remus gently pushed the scope up a bit. ‘Can you see the Dipper now?’ he asked.
‘Yeah.’ Gideon moved his hand to focus, and brushed Remus’s fingers. He jumped.
‘Sorry,’ he muttered.
‘It’s okay,’ Remus answered calmly, for all the world as if this weren’t
exactly what Gideon had wanted. ‘Just…be more careful. It’s a delicate
instrument. Now, Venus should be about ten degrees northwest.’ He fell into the
mild rhythm that made his friends and professors assure him he would make an
excellent teacher, if that’s what he wanted.
They began to work in earnest, Gideon’s obvious need for astronomy tutoring
outweighing any plan for seduction he might have had. But then, after about
half an hour, the fifth-year shivered and turned quickly away. ‘Getting a bit
cold, isn’t it?’ he asked.
‘Yes. Do you want to go in? We can look at the charts inside the tower.’ We’ll
lie down on the open, flat surface of the turret, under the moon….
‘No. I was thinking,’ he blinked his long lashes coquettishly. ‘Maybe we could
take a broom ride?’
Remus bit his lip. Gideon was so studiously ingenuous. ‘I thought you said you
were cold,’ he played along, right into Gideon’s fantasy as he remembered it.
And I’ll offer to ride behind him so we can really see the stars…. ‘Well, I
thought maybe we could take a tour, sort of. Get a closer look at the stars.’
‘Ah,’ Remus said. Now that he was here, the illogic of the young man’s plan
seemed almost too obvious to bear. He decided to change it slightly. ‘Is that
really what you want?’ he asked in a low, sonorous voice.
Gideon shivered again. ‘No, it’s not,’ he admitted. He squared off on the far
side of the tower. ‘What I really want to do is bugger you senseless, Remus
Lupin.’ His eyes caught the slight moonlight and shone with icy grey
reflection. ‘But you belong to Black. I know. I’m sorry.’ He lowered his bright
eyes, hanging his head.
‘Black belongs to me,’ Remus corrected him reflexively, ‘and I love him,
Gideon.’ Remus heard the boy sniff once. He crossed to him. ‘That’s never going
to change. But…it so happens that I’ve talked to him about — you. Don’t think I
haven’t noticed you. Thought about you.’ He lifted Gideon’s chin and wiped away
a boyish tear. ‘I admit that I rather hoped Fabian wouldn’t be here tonight.’
Gideon’s face transformed when he smiled. ‘You did? Fabe said you’d never be
interested. He’s a bit pissed at me,’ he continued, and the sunlight in his
face clouded over, despite the clear night sky. ‘Says I’m too much of a baby
for you. Says I don’t know how to do for a chap.’ He reached up and gripped
Remus’s cloak collar. ‘But I do. I promise I do. Come ride with me?’
Remus nodded. He had to stoop to kiss Gideon, he was that much shorter.
‘Where’s your broom?’ he whispered.
Gideon took his hand and led him to a shadowy ledge. ‘Up!’ he ordered, and the
broomstick leapt to his hand. ‘Go ahead,’ he said, holding out the shaft to
Remus.
Remus shook his head. ‘Bring it over here, first,’ he beckoned, walking back to
the center of the tower. We’ll fly together, my legs open and holding his, my
arms around his waist, hands gripping the broom together, and we’ll buck and
weave on the air, our hips moving in tandem…. Remus had slightly different
plans.
Gideon followed, the broom trailing behind him. Remus took off his cloak, cast
a warming charm on it, and sat down, waving for Gideon to come over. ‘You’re
Hufflepuff’s best player right now, aren’t you?’ he asked as he crossed his
legs for comfort.
‘I guess so,’ Gideon answered modestly. But his shoulders were a bit straighter
as he walked across the flagstones.
‘Bring that over here,’ Remus held out his hand for the broom handle. Gideon
surrendered it and Remus set it on his cloak, pointed at his crotch. ‘Sit on
it,’ Remus told Gideon.
He did so, stretching his legs out awkwardly on the ground. The cushioning
charm kept him a mere inch away from the broom shaft, but Remus had a perfect
view of Gideon’s lithe hips and slender legs and waist. With a steadying
breath, Remus opened his trousers fly.
‘Okay, now I’m going to cast a charm on the handle,’ he told Gideon. ‘It’ll
make this a bit easier. I want you to lift ever so slightly off the ground,
and…fuck me.’
Gideon licked his lips. ‘What?’ he asked hoarsely.
‘Fuck me with it,’ Remus grinned. ‘Just gently rock your broom back and forth,
I’ll help. I want you to ride it, and ride me on it.’
There was just enough moonlight to see the colour drain from Gideon’s cheeks,
then reappear floridly red. ‘Okay,’ he breathed. He grasped the broom firmly
and pushed up on his heels just a tiny bit. The broom left the ground an inch
or so.
Remus wriggled out of his trousers and positioned himself, holding the shaft at
its tip. ‘Okay,’ he said after casting a lubrication charm. ‘Very gently, now.’
They began in a tentative rhythm, Gideon moving forward and back with extreme
slowness. The broom handle slid into Remus gently, and he guided it back and
forth in time to Gideon’s heel-rocking. Gideon stopped. ‘Hang on,’ he said, and
he pulled the broom handle back, setting it down on the ground again. He stood,
took off his cloak, and struggled out of his clothes. He put his cloak back on
for warmth and sat back down, naked, a little in front of the magical cushion.
‘Oh, that’s better,’ he commented as he resumed his rhythm.
Remus fucked himself with the broom, eyes never leaving Gideon’s face. Every
few strokes, Gideon would inch forward, moaning with pleasure at the feel of
the polished wood against his balls. Eventually, his legs straddled Remus’s and
their cocks brushed each other, both of them still using the broom to slide in
and out of Remus’s arse.
‘God, Remus, you’re so big!’ Gideon said suddenly, taking a good look at
Remus’s groin.
Remus blushed. ‘Er…not really,’ he said, looking down. ‘I’m just…older than
you,’ he finished lamely.
‘You’re even bigger than Fabian,’ Gideon said, touching him tentatively. ‘I
know I’m kinda scrawny,’ he continued, measuring his erection next to Remus’s,
‘but…wow. Please, will you fuck me? I’ve never had anything that big inside me
before. Please?’
The sound of those words coming out of that innocent page-boy’s face made Remus
want nothing better. He pulled his hips back with a sigh of contentment and
pushed Gideon toward the tail so he could also straddle the broom. He wriggled
forward onto the cushion, then pulled Gideon down onto his lap. He hooked
Gideon’s knees over his thighs and snuggled into the other boy’s cloak. ‘Can
you see well enough to fly?’ he panted into Gideon’s chest.
Gideon whimpered in response, but moments later, Remus felt the broom rise from
the ground. ‘Wait!’ Remus breathed, and they sank. ‘First, let’s get you into
position…. Hold the broom where we can stand.’
It took a little manoeuvring and a reapplication of lubrios, but eventually
Remus held Gideon impaled on his cock. ‘Okay, now, let’s go,’ he told the
younger man.
‘Hold tight,’ Gideon gasped, grasping the broom handle with his arms twined
around Remus’s waist. He rocked backward and the broom lifted from the ground.
They took off from the tower, circling it experimentally a few times before
zooming over the fields and forest.
Remus clung to Gideon’s waist, burying his head in the boy’s slight chest.
Gideon’s every motion with the broom rubbed his small, slender cock against
Remus’s stomach between his shirt tails and, better still, pushed his arse up
and down on Remus’s engorged shaft. Gideon held the cloak closed with one hand,
guiding the broom with the other. They couldn’t shift as much as they’d hoped,
but managed to create a rocking rhythm that brought them both to the brink.
‘I’m…Remus, please, can you stroke me at all?’
Remus tried to let go with one hand, but felt like he would overbalance. ‘How’s
this?’ he asked, lifting his legs against Gideon’s instead.
‘Lean back a bit,’ Gideon told him. ‘It’s okay. I’ve got you.’
The assurance was all Remus needed to climax. He bucked hard, then tried to
quiet his spasms because Gideon almost lost hold of the broom. But the release
of tension left him with a bit more flexibility and he found he could lean
back, almost all the way back, his spine balancing on the broom.
Gideon leaned over with him, on top of him, and the broom’s speed increased.
‘Hook your legs…’ he suggested, and Remus found he could hold the tail with his
ankle. The pressure of their bodies sent Gideon over the edge, too, but he held
perfectly still. Wetness and cooling air between their abdomens was Remus’s
only clue that the boy had reached orgasm. The broom came to a halt, hovering
near the ground of the Quidditch pitch. They rolled off it, grateful for solid
ground, and were soon wrapped up in the cloak together, limbs all tangled.
Gideon kissed Remus’s chest. ‘That was better than I imagined,’ he said, wide-
eyed and honest.
‘Really?’ Remus asked, petting the boy’s hair. ‘Didn’t disappoint?’
‘Not at all,’ Gideon said, wriggling a bit to bring his knee up under Remus’s
balls.
‘I was worried we might fall,’ Remus admitted.
‘Wouldn’t let it happen,’ Gideon told him. He climbed on top of the broader
seventh-year, fondling his shoulder and pec. ‘Are you cold?’
‘Getting cold,’ Remus said with a nod. ‘Let’s get back to the tower, okay?’
They sat this time, Gideon in front of Remus, and flew back up to their things
on the highest turret.
‘Remus?’ Gideon asked as they dressed in a hurry, for the night was really
getting chilly now. ‘Do you mind if I…can I tell Fabian? Only, I really don’t
have secrets from him.’
‘I suppose,’ Remus said with a shrug. ‘Just as long as you realize, I still
love Sirius.’
‘I know,’ Gideon said brightly. ‘I just…Fabian didn’t think I could do it.
He’ll wish he’d been here.’
Remus looked up sharply, sure he hadn’t heard what he thought he’d heard. But
before he could decide whether to say anything, Gideon giggled. ‘Muggles have a
name for people who have sex in airplanes. The Mile High club. I don’t think we
were that high, but I think being on a broomstick counts, don’t you?’
TBC….
***** In which a surprise goes awry *****
Peter and Sirius had matched up several letters Thursday evening. They planned
to use the morning post-owls Friday morning to “match” their candidates in time
for the upcoming Hogsmeade week-end. Their letters weren’t the only deliveries,
though. Three owls arrived with a deep rectangular box for James.
‘Wossat?’ Peter asked as James checked the return address and put the box
across his knees.
‘Early Christmas present,’ James said through his eggs. He pulled out his wand
and shrank the box to slide it into his bag.
Somehow Remus made it through lessons without falling asleep. He had returned
to Gryffindor Tower after his late-night flight and found Sirius waiting up.
Tired as he was, Remus hadn’t the heart to brush Sirius off, so he had spent
another half-hour on his knees in front of Sirius before brushing his teeth a
second time and finally collapsing into his pillows. He had dragged himself out
of bed after too few hours, feeling almost as shaky as the day after a full
moon.
He did fine until Advanced Potions, when Snape and Rosier slipped porcupine
quills into his knotgrass and his cauldron boiled over. Professor Dee had a
number of choice words for a student who had barely been accepted into the
advanced class. ‘How many times must I tell you to keep your ingredients well-
segregated? Come back Monday night at seven to complete your potion. And bring
an essay with you, Lupin: six inches on the importance of proper storage of dry
ingredients.’
Remus mumbled his acknowledgement. When Professor Dee turned back to his
chalkboard, Remus glared over at Snape, who bowed his head mockingly with a
perfectly straight face.
‘Brilliant,’ Remus grumbled all the way to Care of Magical Creatures. ‘Now I’ve
got McGonagall’s essay, Dee’s, Flitwick’s charms practical, and Binns’s paper,
all to finish this week.’ He sighed and took Sirius’s hand. ‘I’m not going into
the village tomorrow, okay? I’ve got to work.’
‘Yeah, all right,’ Sirius made no effort to conceal his disappointment. ‘Maybe
I’ll see if Marina’s free.’
Peter caught up to them. ‘Guess what?’ he said broadly, sidling in between
Sirius and James.
‘Got a date for Hogsmeade?’ James guessed.
‘Yeah, but who?’ Peter prompted.
‘Mmm...Hannah Burberry,’ Remus ventured. Peter had had a crush on her since
second year.
‘Yup.’ They all stopped in the middle of the dying lawns.
‘Really, Peter?’
‘That’s brilliant, Pete.’
‘Way to go!’ They surrounded him with congratulations. James caught him round
the neck and rubbed his hair briskly against his scalp. Sirius chucked him on
the arm. Remus just smiled warmly.
‘What convinced her?’ James asked.
‘I, er...ate an éclair for her,’ Peter muttered. Remus burst out laughing.
 
Remus fell asleep over his books in the common room on Friday night and woke to
the sounds of underclassmen thundering through on their way to the wizarding
village. Yawning, he scratched his head and decided he could go upstairs for a
bit of proper sleep, then get back to it about mid-morning.
But when he came into the dormitory, he saw James dive for his bed with a yelp.
He caught a glimpse of black and white and heard the crinkle of stiffened cloth
before James yanked his curtains shut.
‘What are you doing?’ they asked each other at once.
‘I was waiting for Lily,’ James said. ‘You?’
‘Fell asleep downstairs, came up for a nap. Why are you hiding in there?’
He heard more rustling of cloth, then a muffled ‘sproing.’ ‘Ouch. I’m hiding
because...this is dead embarrassing.’
‘James, does whatever you’ve got in there have anything to do with that box you
got yesterday?’
James was silent so long that Remus knew he had to be right. ‘Look, it’s a
surprise for Lily. I asked her to come up here before we went into town.’
‘Okay,’ Remus said slowly. He thought about the box, the muffled sound of
netting and the whisper of satin, the flash of black before James cut off his
view, the snapping sound, like a springing elastic, and a startling vision
of...lace stockings?
Remus reached out and jiggled the curtains at the foot of the bed. James fell
for the bait, clutching the edges of the curtains to keep them together. When
he did, Remus rounded the bed lightning-quick and tugged on the middle of the
curtains alongside the bed. James whirled around at the sudden unveiling. He
stood on his covers, his legs looking even longer because of the short skirt,
encased in fishnets, held up by suspenders. The skirt itself was very short
indeed, starched quite stiff and held out by crinoline, with a crisp, white
apron edged in lace over the top.
‘A French maid’s outfit?’ Remus dissolved into fits of laughter. ‘What the fuck
are you doing in a French maid’s costume?’
James fumed. ‘Lily and I were talking about the letters. Someone wrote in about
imagining his girl in a French maid’s getup. I didn’t get it - I mean, why
would anyone care about a Beauxbatons uniform, right?’
‘Right. So Lily explained that it’s the equivalent of the wizarding fantasy of
a house-elf’s pillowcase and tea-towel?’
‘Yes. But that’s never been a big one for me. I mean, I’ve seen it on one of
mum’s WWN dramas....’
‘Yeah, my mum watches those sometimes, too.’
‘But Lily said this was way better, and if I didn’t think so, I should just
order one and see what the fuss was about. So I did.’
‘But you didn’t realize that the costume is for women?’ Remus surmised.
‘Not at first,’ James admitted. ‘But then I opened it up. And I thought,
“Well!” but Lily would never wear it.’
‘She did suggest it,’ Remus began, but stopped at the look in James’s eyes.
‘Yeah, probably a trap. She’d kill you for going through with it,’ he agreed.
‘And...well, I was sitting here, thinking about how to salvage the
situation.... And it looked so inviting. I just wanted to see what the mystique
was.’
‘Well, it looks quite fetching on you,’ Remus told him honestly. ‘Where’s your
feather-duster?’
James blushed beet red and drew forth a white-plumed duster from the tissue in
the box. Remus grinned. ‘We had both at home,’ he explained. ‘House-elves for
the upstairs work and the cooking, and a Muggle housekeeper and chauffeur. But
never a French upstairs maid. Mum thinks those costumes are just silly.’
‘Ours are all elves. Sirius’s too,’ James put in. But then Remus shut the
dormitory door. ‘Remus...what are you...?’
‘I thought I told you to clean this room,’ Remus said lasciviously.
‘Oh,’ James said, eyes widening. He climbed down off the bed, and affected an
accent. ‘Mais, M’sieur Ray-moos, zer’ is so mush mess! You boys are ‘ow you
say, peegs. I cannot be eggspected to be done so soon, ç’est impossible!’
‘I don’t want to hear excuses,’ Remus said, sitting down on the chair beside
James’s bed. ‘Now, we hired you to perform a task for us, and if you’re not
going to provide satisfactory service, perhaps we should reconsider your
situation.’
James minced forward, pleading. ‘Oh, but M’sieur Lyoopan, ze cleaning? Zis is
not ze only serveece I offair, n’est-çe pas?’ He ruffled the feather duster in
Remus’s face and bent over to show his ‘cleavage.’ ‘I am certaine ve can come
to zum zort of...arrangement?’
Remus pursed his lips. ‘Oh, I think there might be something you can do well
enough....’ He pulled James into his lap and began to kiss him. His hands
wandered over the satin dress, up into the scratchy folds of the crinoline, and
finally he found his way under all the layers to James’s net-clad thighs. From
there he slid his hands up the inside of James’s legs all the way to his--
‘Knickers?’ Remus broke the kiss in surprise. ‘James, are you wearing girl’s
knickers, too?’
James pressed him into the back of the chair. ‘Shut up.’
Remus didn’t argue. The bulge of James’s dick stuffed into the lacy panty was
too compelling. He worked his fingers into the crotch of the pants, squeezing
James’s sac inside the lace. They both groaned appreciatively.
‘What if Lily comes in?’ Remus asked between kissing James’s pouting mouth and
nibbling his neck.
‘She can bloody join in. Remus...want to fuck you.’
‘Oh, yes,’ Remus pressed up into James’s bottom. He wrapped his arms around
James’s waist and stood up. He didn’t often display his natural strength, but
every little crumple of netting against his legs made his balls throb. He
shifted them onto James’s bed and fell back, letting James lie on top of him.
James grabbed at Remus’s robes. He rolled off long enough to let Remus ruck up
his robes and free his legs from his trousers and underwear. James turned his
back to Remus and gestured vaguely at the zipper.
‘Leave it on,’ Remus breathed raggedly. ‘Just get the lube out of Sirius’s
drawer, and come back here quick.’
James scurried across the room. His crinoline barely covered his arse when he
bent over the bedside table. Moments later, he straightened and turned, the
bottle in his hand. On his way back, he remembered his character.
‘Oh, M’sieur Lyoopan, sank you zo mush for zis second shance. I promeese to be
oh so good for you, M’sieur....’ He crawled over his trunk and the foot of his
bed, a predatory gleam in his eyes. ‘I vill show you, M’sieur, ‘ow ve, ‘ow you
say...make ze bed? Or do I mean, make it in ze bed?’
An hour later, when Lily arrived, James had changed, but he decided not to
explain why Remus was taking a nap in his bed. He just told her that he really,
really wanted to try on a pillowcase or a tea-towel sometime.
 
TBC....
***** In which plans are laid *****
Remus had been working so hard to get his assignments turned in on time that
the full moon, which he always tracked precisely, snuck up behind him when he
wasn’t looking. Sirius pointed out two days beforehand that they had been
planning the calendar so intensely, they hadn’t thought about this month’s
adventure.
‘Would you…would you mind much if we didn’t break out of the shack this month?’
Remus asked the other three when Sirius brought it up. ‘I just…I think we could
all use a rest.’
Sirius frowned. ‘Are you feeling all right?’ he asked. ‘You do look piquey.’
‘I…I’m just a bit over-extended, Sirius,’ Remus told him.
‘Well, okay. But we’ve tried staying in the shack before, remember? Moony
usually has different ideas. Don’t you think you’d be better off to run off
some of your frustration?’
‘Remus, why don’t you ask McGonagall if you can skive off tomorrow?’ James
suggested. ‘Rest up before the moon.’
Remus sighed. ‘No, that’s okay. I’ll be fine.’
‘Sure?’ Sirius pressed.
‘Yeah, I’m sure.’ And as if saying it made it so, Remus told himself that he
was okay, he could make it to the end of term, relax over the holidays.
‘Good, because I think I have a solution to the other half of our dating
service problem,’ Peter put in. ‘There’s a number of people who just aren’t
satisfied with anything less than Remus,’ he said. ‘I have a plan.’
 
‘No,’ Remus shook his head when Peter suggested it.
‘But…’
‘No. I’m not giving anyone my hair for Polyjuice Potion.’
‘Even if it’s just us?’
‘No.’ Remus pulled one knee to his chest.
‘Remus, it’s a good suggestion. What’s the problem?’ Sirius sat next to him,
one arm around his hunched shoulders.
‘My scar. You’ve all seen it – you all know. But anyone takes Polyjuice of me,
they’ll have the scar, right?’
‘Didn’t Gideon—’
Remus shook his head. ‘Left my shirt on.’ He rubbed his shoulder absently. ‘I
know you meant well, Peter, but…I don’t think so.’
‘Remus, you’ve no idea, have you?’ James said gently. ‘You’re amazing. Tell you
what. Let us brew up a batch, and one of us will take it, so you can see. If
you’re still uncomfortable, okay, no problem.’
Between James’s confession and Sirius’s reassuring squeeze, Remus nodded. ‘If
we swipe the ingredients from Dee this week,’ Peter scribbled on his notepad,
‘the potion should be ready about the middle of January.’
‘Okay. You’re right, James, I don’t get it. But if you think you can prove
something to me by taking it, okay.’
 
Later, Sirius said to him: ‘What about your other dates? They’ll see, if you’re
with them. I don’t think Kingsley will put up with you keeping your shirt on.’
‘I know. I don’t know.’ Remus rolled onto his side and Sirius spooned up behind
him. ‘I’m going to miss you over the holidays,’ he said. ‘Sure you can’t come
back to London with me?’
‘They want me to come home. There’s…there’s some business we need to take care
of at the estate.’
‘Selling more old paintings and silverware?’ Sirius asked gently. He had never
really cared about his family’s status or wealth, but watching Remus’s family
slowly divesting everything in order to maintain their title and lands, when
they so clearly cared for their tenants, somehow struck Sirius as a terrible
irony.
‘I think so. Mum said that the roof of the guest wing is finally too dangerous
to stay; we need to move anything worth saving out of there before the whole
wing collapses.’
‘Maybe I could come help,’ Sirius suggested.
‘Maybe,’ Remus said in a way that made it clear he wouldn’t suggest it to his
parents. His father’s pride ran as swiftly in his veins as the wolf. Sirius
hugged him and dropped it.
‘Full moon tomorrow.’
‘Yeah.’
 
Moony snarled at the three figures in the room with him, until the strong odor
of pack drifted through his post-transformation haze. He was aware that
something had changed since the last time they were together. Wormtail and
Prongs didn’t just smell like pack anymore. They smelled more like Padfoot,
like mates. Moony snapped his jaws. Made no sense! Pack, yes, but Padfoot was
mate.
Prongs pushed forward, horns low, hooves clicking on the wood floor. He whuffed
from his nostrils, not commandingly, but questioningly.
Moony shook his fur out from neck to tail. The overlying scent of mating clung
to Prongs and Wormtail in ways he did not understand. But Padfoot was the same.
He lunged forward, nipping at Padfoot’s ears playfully, seeking solid footing
somehow. Padfoot responded predictably, and that reassured Moony. He wrestled
with the large dog, but did not use his teeth, allowing his mate an unusual
amount of freedom. Padfoot’s tail wagged rapidly and he ran back to Prongs,
stopped, then ran back to Moony. Then he ran back to Moony again, and crossed
the room quickly to the bed where Wormtail watched everything. Back to Moony.
The message wasn’t lost on Moony, but he still wasn’t ready to accept the
changes that Padfoot evidently thought were natural.
Moony butted his snout against Padfoot and rubbed the top of his head against
Padfoot’s jaw. He turned to Prongs, who lowered his antlers low enough to touch
the floor. Moony inched forward, tongue out to catch the scents better. He took
a tentative lap at Prongs’s foreleg, found the taste matched the scent, and
rubbed the top of his head under Prongs’s chest, forcing the big neck up and
away.
Wormtail scrambled down from the bed and into Padfoot’s fur. Moony turned at
Prongs’s snort and stamp of impatience. Moony did not need to be encouraged; he
ran down the stairs toward the loose clapboards that would release them into
the night.
Moony tolerated Prongs and Wormtail’s presence while they ran up the hillside
to the inviting trees, but once they reached the forest floor, his plan
changed. He nipped Padfoot on the neck playfully and shot ahead of the others.
The dog paced him, and soon they had left the other two far behind. Moony put
his shoulder against his companion’s dark fur, directing the other through the
undergrowth. He pushed him to the right, then took up the lead again, knowing
that his mate – his true mate – would not fall behind. They reached a small
patch of clear ground and there, Moony lunged.
He pounced and rolled, catching the dog in the grip of his forelegs. Padfoot
twined his legs in Moony’s and pulled them to their hindfeet. Instead of
wrestling, Moony licked Padfoot’s face in glee. They rolled to the ground, and
Padfoot was up first, circling the wolf lazily. Moony pounced again, this time
pulling Padfoot to the ground beneath him and holding him in place with claw
and paw. He settled his weight against Padfoot’s hindlegs, his prick already
growing in anticipation. Padfoot whined appreciatively as the wolf’s thick
member probed between his legs. He dug his claws into the earth, pushing up
against the flesh behind him. Moony thrust efficiently, biting his mate’s
shoulder as he rutted. This was true mating; the others may have a claim,
somehow, but Padfoot was the only one Moony wanted under the moon.
He pushed forward as far as he could, seeking to dominate by sheer force.
Padfoot stilled beneath him and Moony scrabbled his paws along Padfoot’s
flanks. His tongue lolled out of his mouth and his breathing quickened. He
licked the thick fur at the base of Padfoot’s neck, right where moments ago he
had bitten. This was right; this was as it should be. He quickened his thrusts,
feeling the dog buck underneath him despite his earlier decision to hold still.
Moony whuffled softly, whining rather than howling. He wanted to howl, but he
wanted to avoid the rest of his pack a bit longer.
Finally, when the knot at the base of his prick loosened suddenly and he felt
the rush of seed spurt forth into his mate, Moony threw back his head and
howled long and loud. He slipped out of Padfoot, backed off the dog, and lapped
tenderly at his mate’s arse, where blood and seed leaked into the short fur
there. Padfoot looked up at him and whined. Moony circled him twice, then
licked his snout, and Padfoot licked back.
The others found them there, and Moony allowed Prongs to lie beside them while
Wormtail scratched Moony behind his ears. Packs had their advantages, after
all.
TBC….
***** In which Remus has a Happy Christmas *****
Remus woke the next morning in the bed of the Shrieking Shack with his face in
Sirius’s hair and something warm against his back. He lifted himself up
slightly, enough to see a pudgy arm over his waist. Peter. James lay on
Sirius’s other side. Weak light seeped through the cracks in the boards. He
flopped his head back onto the mattress, allowing himself to drift and doze as
he only could in the wake of a transformation. He had the vaguest memories of
Moony’s surprise at the sudden change in scent, but evidently the wolf’s
behaviour didn’t seem to matter to them in human form. He fell back to sleep.
When Madam Pomfrey woke him later, they were gone. He slipped inside the circle
of her cloak and allowed her to guide him back to the hospital wing to finish
recuperating.
 
‘And then Lily distracted Dee while James slipped into the Storeroom under the
cloak for the boomslang skin and bicorn horn,’ Peter told him quietly over a
Chocolate Frog. ‘It was brilliant. We’ve set up the cauldron in our bath.’
‘I’m glad it went well. Where are the others, anyway?’
‘James and Sirius have Quidditch practice. Lily said to tell you she’d see you
back in the common room; she wanted to get some work done.’
Remus nodded. Peter had dropped a couple classes after their OWLs, so he had
more free time than most. ‘Well, I think I’m okay to go,’ he announced,
swinging his legs out of the bed.
‘Mr Lupin, you stay in that bed,’ Madam Pomfrey called from her office. She
charged up the row of beds to his station. ‘At least until I’ve checked your
vital signs again,’ she told him as she halted by the bedside. She held out her
wand and waved it slowly over him from head to toe. ‘Hmph. You’re in the pink,
Mr Lupin,’ she told him, sounding slightly disappointed. ‘But you’re still
weak. Mr Pettigrew, if you will make sure he goes straight back to bed?’
‘Yes, ma’am.’ Peter jumped to his feet eagerly. ‘C’mon, mate. Can’t have you
coming down with flu this close to the holidays,’ he said loudly, to indicate
this month’s fiction.
Remus shrugged into his robes right over his hospital pyjamas and followed
meekly.
 
The next few days were a flurry of activity in preparation for the holidays.
Sirius was looking forward to adding some decorations to his new flat; he
invited everyone, including Remus again, to drop in anytime.
‘I know you have family things,’ he told Remus glumly. ‘But owl me if you want
me to come. Okay?’
‘Okay,’ Remus agreed again, in the voice that really meant, ‘But I won’t.’
He changed trains for Bath and slept most of the way. His father met him at the
station. ‘We’ve let Turner go,’ he explained as he led them to the old car. It
was in fine condition, considering its age, but was held together now more with
spells than with steel. His father stalled the engine three times getting out
of the carpark, and tapped the dash in frustration when it stalled a fourth
time. The engine sprang to life and the wheel steered on its own. He turned to
face his son.
‘Cosgrove’s talking to Christie’s Magical Division; we found an old talking
portrait in one of the closets on the third floor of the guest wing. I thought
we’d moved everything worth saving a while ago, but there it was. He’s having
it appraised. It needs some restoration, of course, but between that and some
of the disused furniture, I think we can make enough for this year’s taxes and
to put a bit aside.’
Remus said nothing. His father looked very tired. His hair was grey at the
temples and toward the back, and his eyes squinted a bit as he adjusted the
steering wheel slightly to slide through the traffic onto the road that would
take them to Aethenum Crossing, their village.
‘Everything else okay?’ Remus asked non-chalantly. ‘I mean, usually, you don’t
call me home at Christmas.’
His father sucked his cheeks in a bit as he frowned. ‘After what happened last
year—’ he began.
‘It’s fine, Dad,’ Remus cut him off. ‘It was an accident.’
‘I don’t want you associating with that Black any more than you have to,’
Julius Lupin said tersely. ‘I thought perhaps he’d be different from his
family, especially being in Gryffindor.’ He gripped the wheel, although he
didn’t need to steer hardly at all. ‘I think it’s just better if you’re home,
when you’re off school.’
Remus said nothing. He stared out the window into the night.
‘Anyway, there’s a lot to do here,’ Julius continued. ‘And…your mother could
use the help.’
Remus turned sharply, all thoughts of arguing Sirius’s character flown. ‘I
thought you said…your last letter, you said she was home from St. Mungo’s, she
was doing better.’
‘She is,’ Julius said. ‘She just gets tired rather quickly.’
‘Well…can’t Nipsy, or Tinny—’ Remus suggested.
‘Oh, they do for her most of the time,’ Julius explained matter-of-factly. ‘But
work like this…. It breaks their hearts to see us reduced to selling off the
estate, one heirloom at a time. Tinny, poor little thing, gets so upset she can
barely put together a sandwich. I’ve given up asking them to help with the
inventory.’
Remus sighed. ‘He moved out of his family’s house, Dad,’ he said slowly. ‘Up
and left, because he’s not like them. He’d understand about Tinny.’
Julius said nothing. The car turned, and the headlamps picked out the stone
bridge which spanned the stream marking their eastern border. Julius slowed the
car with a tap of his wand, and they tottered across the rough-hewn stones,
bouncing up and down and bumping when the tyres hit road again.
They rode in silence through the gates of Aethenum Park and around the pink
marble house with its wide drive to the converted stables in the back. Julius
pulled the release for the boot and Remus climbed out and went to get his
trunk.
‘Let Nipsy,’ Julius told him, taking his son’s arm lightly. ‘It’ll make him
feel useful.’
Remus relented. They went in through the kitchens, where the two house-elves
hugged Remus joyously and told them that Mrs Lupin had taken some supper in her
apartments and retired already. Remus, uncomfortable at the prospect of dinner
alone with his father and the unfinished, unspoken business between them, asked
Nipsy to take his trunk up to his rooms and asked Tinny if she could kindly
bring him a tray as well, since he was so tired from travelling.
 
Despite the dismal business of clearing out several rooms’ worth of furniture,
bric-a-brac, and other heirlooms, it was a fairly pleasant holiday. His mother
seemed much better than she had been over the summer, and as long as he and his
father avoided the subject of one Sirius Black, they got on as well as they
usually did. Athena Lupin, who had been Muggle-born and thus didn’t share all
her husband’s historical rivalries, sympathized with Remus when he spoke to her
alone about Sirius’s obvious rift with his family, but ultimately shrugged and
said that soon enough, Remus would be able to Apparate and then he could see
whomever he liked.
‘Speaking of which,’ she said to him as she went through one of the jewel cases
in her room, ‘have you written to set up a testing date yet?’
‘No,’ Remus admitted. ‘I’ll write to Mr Thrusher. I don’t know if there’s any
restrictions or special arrangements I need to make through Werewolf Support
Services. He’ll know.’
The day before Christmas Eve, an owl arrived for Remus from Sirius. It was
signed only with a pawprint, but it bore his usual economy, along with
knowledge of the Lord Aethenum’s family traditions: Light a fire in your
bedroom fireplace before dark tomorrow and come back there right after you get
back from the parish services.
Remus folded the note and put it in his pocket.
The next night, Remus cadged an extra bit of coal and firewood from Nipsy, and
gave him instructions to leave the fire banked, but not to let it go out while
the Lupins were at services. He changed into his best suit and joined his
parents for their landlordly duty: twice a year, the Lord and Lady of Aethenum
paid their respects to God and Jesus at the head of their community. But Remus
found it difficult not to fidget during the mass; he wished the organ would
play the carols faster; willed the villagers not to spend their usual hour or
so welcoming the young master home from school, tipping their hats to Lord
Aethenum, and trying to put in a word about the new irrigation ditch they’d
been digging for the last five years. Sirius had something planned! A Christmas
surprise. Remus willed himself calm, quiet, his usual reserved self. He
politely shook hands with half the town, and offered to drive the sleigh home
so that he could at least be doing something. It was all he could do to keep
the horses at a trot, rather than snap them into a canter or worse, a full
gallop.
They got home and Mrs Lupin announced that she felt extremely tired. Julius
used his wand to Apparate them both to their apartments, and while Remus felt
guilty at finding fortune in his mother’s condition, he couldn’t help being
glad they had retired already. He could go to his rooms without having to make
an excuse. He had a feeling he knew what Sirius’s surprise might be, and he was
also grateful that it could be delivered in his bedroom, though quite how, he
wasn’t sure.
Nipsy had thoughtfully built up the fire a bit when the family arrived home and
it was crackling merrily when Remus reached his room. But the room itself was
empty. Remus sat at the edge of his bed, knee resting lightly against the
cherry footboard, and summoned a book to read while he waited.
‘Remus?’ Sirius’s voice called through the fire.
‘Sirius!’ Remus slid off the bed and came to the hearth. Sirius’s head was
nowhere in sight.
‘Surprise!’ Sirius’s voice floated past the flames. ‘I got my flat connected to
the Floo network. But I can’t get a full connection; your bedroom doesn’t seem
to be listed.’
‘No, only the parlors downstairs, and the kitchen fire.’
‘Damn. I was hoping one of us could come through. I miss you, Moony.’
‘I miss you too, puppy,’ Remus said. ‘But thank you for trying.’
‘Can you talk for a while?’ Sirius asked.
‘Yes, of course I can,’ Remus answered through a smile. ‘You sound lonely.’
‘Yeah. I wish you’d come to London. James and Lily were invited to Christmas
with her folks, and Peter’s brother came home unexpectedly, so it turns out I’m
on my own.’
‘Sirius, I’m sorry,’ Remus said sincerely. ‘It’s good that I did come home,
though,’ he continued. And he told Sirius about his parents.
‘I never meant to get you hurt or in trouble!’ Sirius’s voice came through the
connection, raised and upset.
‘I know that,’ Remus assured him. ‘It’s okay, puppy. You know my dad – he just
worries about me.’
‘He needn’t do,’ Sirius insisted, petulantly. ‘I’m not like them.’
‘I know,’ Remus said again. ‘So, what’s your flat like, then?’ he asked to
change the subject.
‘It’s absolutely amazing,’ Sirius told him. ‘I’m in Soho; it’s brilliant.
Everyone here is colourful. I think I might dye my hair blue, what do you
think?’
‘I think you’re insane. Have you decorated for Christmas?’
‘Yeah. James helped me carry a tree in the Muggle way. I don’t have any proper
ornaments, though, so I just strung some popcorn and a bit of tinsel. Next year
we’ll get some singing birds and a few fairies, all right?’
‘Sure,’ Remus said. It amused him that Sirius already saw them living there
together.
‘I’ve got the tree in front of the window in the sitting room,’ Sirius
continued. ‘Well, actually, it’s sort of the whole flat,’ he admitted. ‘It’s
more a bedsit, really. But it’s got a proper kitchen and a walk-in shower. Oh –
and I hung that Tornadoes poster up in the loft, next to the wardrobe. And I’m
putting in another bookshelf this week – Lily found one for me to replace the
milk crates. I wish you were here to see it.’
‘Me, too,’ Remus agreed. He jumped over his footboard and grabbed his pillows
so he could lie down next to the hearth. ‘Sirius?’
‘Yes?’
‘I’m sorry I was a git about coming to London.’
‘No, I understand. Just as well I didn’t invite myself out there, eh?’
‘Yeah. Keep talking. I’m going to change out of my suit if I’m going to sit on
the hearth.’
‘The grey suit?’ Sirius asked. ‘Or the dark blue jacket we bought last summer?’
‘The gr—the blue one,’ Remus lied, fingering the buttons on the jacket.
Sirius chuckled on the other side of the fire. ‘So…you’re changing now, then?’
‘Yes,’ Remus said slowly. ‘But I wish you were the one undressing me.’
‘Close your eyes,’ Sirius called to him. ‘I’m unbuttoning the jacket for you.’
Remus let his fingers act for Sirius. ‘I’m sliding my hands around your slender
waist, inside the slippery lining of your coat. I squeeze you lightly, pulling
you to my chest.’
‘Yes.’ Remus opened his jacket and let his hands curl around his own waist,
squeezing the way Sirius described.
‘I’m loosening your tie,’ Sirius continued. ‘And I’m pulling it out of your
collar.’
Remus had already taken off his tie, but he touched his neck anyway. ‘And
you’re unbuttoning my shirt,’ he prompted. ‘One button at a time.’
‘Oh, yeah,’ Sirius agreed. ‘After each one, I part the cotton a little bit
more, and kiss the exposed skin.’
Remus worked his buttons open, fluttering his fingertips over the skin as if
they were soft, thin lips.
‘Is your shirt open?’ Sirius asked after a minute.
‘Yes,’ Remus told him.
‘Good.’ Remus could hear the grin. ‘I kiss you deeply, our mouths searching for
each other. I hold you close to me, ease the shirt off your shoulders. I kiss
my way down your neck and run my tongue over your scar.’
Remus closed his eyes and caressed his scar. ‘You pull off my shirt by the
sleeves, and then throw me a look that tells me to just leave it on the chair,
when I try to break away to hang it up.’
‘Damn right,’ Sirius laughed. ‘And I pull you back in for another long kiss.
You place your hands against my chest, rub my nipples a bit....’
‘And you sink to your knees, kissing your way down my front, so that you can
concentrate on my trousers....’
‘You curl your fingers through my hair as I gently pull your zipper away from
your shorts and open the fly so I can touch...what’s inside,’ Sirius finished
lamely.
Remus smiled. ‘Mm.’ He was a bit embarrassed to continue, but it was too good
to stop. ‘You slide my trousers down my legs,’ he continued, doing so for
himself, ‘and toss them aside to be dealt with later. Then, grabbing a blanket
off the bed, you lead me to the hearth and push me down with your kisses.’
‘Yes. We lie down on the blanket--’
‘Under the blanket. On the rug,’ Remus corrected as he positioned himself.
‘Sorry,’ Sirius said from the flames.
‘It’s okay.’
‘On the rug,’ Sirius said with the air of one who is rewinding a tape, ‘and I
cover you with my body.’
‘Gods, yes. And you run one hand between my legs and over my crotch.’
Sirius was breathing heavily on his side of the fire. ‘And you hook your leg
around my leg, and we grind together....’
‘The fire’s hot....’
‘And I throw off the blanket and lift myself on my hands to pump against
you....’
‘Yes, oh, yes,’ Remus said, touching himself. ‘And you press your finger slowly
into my arse....’
Sirius grunted faintly. ‘Gods, Remus, want to touch you so bad.’
‘Touch yourself for me, puppy,’ Remus said into the flames.
‘Nggh!’ Sirius shouted through the floo.
‘Imagine I’m going down on you right now.’ Remus licked his lips. ‘Tasting that
sweet cock of yours.’ He suppressed a giggle. ‘And you’re pressing against my
face, hot and red and leaking....’
‘Jesus, Remus,’ he heard from the fire. ‘I wish you were here. Oh, gods!’ His
voice turned into spasmodic screaming. Remus’s eyes rolled back in his head and
he squeezed his prick a few times and came as well.
‘Sirius?’ he called when he resurfaced.
‘Yes, puppy?’
‘Happy Christmas.’
TBC....
***** In which Andromeda and Ted play host *****
Thanks to the judicious pinching of a little Floo powder, Remus and Sirius were
able to Floo properly two nights later. Kissing over the fire was very
uncomfortable, though, and their one attempt to give head through the flames
ended quite suddenly when Sirius forgot to add more Floo at a strategic moment.
‘Oh, this is bollocks,’ Remus said after casting another burn-healing charm on
his face. ‘I’m just going to come to London a few days early.’
‘Your Dad….’
‘Don’t worry about my Dad. Just come to Victoria Station tomorrow afternoon and
pick me up.’
 
It was quite possibly the closest Remus and his father had ever come to having
a row. Remus told his parents that he’d got an owl from James inviting everyone
up to London for New Year’s eve. Julius shook his head and simply said, ‘We
need you here.’ Both Lupin men expressed themselves calmly, quietly, and with
steel-like stubbornness.
Finally Athena intervened. ‘For heaven’s sake, Julius. We don’t need him here
half so much as you want him to stay. He’s seventeen. Let him go spend New
Year’s Eve with his friends.’
Julius patted his wife’s arm as she began to cough. Remus hung his head,
feeling doubly worse for causing her frustration. Another time, he might have
suggested that they reinvestigate a Muggle doctor--Healers really couldn’t
remedy cancer very well--but now was not the time to have that conversation,
either.
But when her coughing subsided, when his father looked up and Remus met his
gaze, he knew that the visit would be allowed.
‘No illegal magic,’ Julius warned grudgingly.
‘Right.’
‘And no wild parties.’
‘Dad, when have I ever been to a wild party?’ Remus smiled sheepishly. What his
father did not know would not hurt him.
‘If you go to Picadilly Circus at midnight, watch yourself,’ Julius continued.
Remus frowned. ‘Picadilly? Hadn’t thought about it. Good idea, though. Thanks,
Dad!’ He stood up and hugged his father warmly, kissed his mother’s cheek, and
ran out to throw his things in his trunk. If he hurried, he could get to the
station before the twelve-thirty train. He’d be in London by tea-time.
 
‘I’ve got the best news!’ Sirius told him when they met at the station.
‘Andromeda invited us to dinner.’
Remus had met Andromeda a few times before she left school. She was Sirius’s
favourite cousin, and had been summarily kicked out of the Black family for
marrying a Muggle-born wizard: Ted Tonks. Ted and Andromeda lived in a
ramshackle flat near the Thames in an area almost all populated by West Indian
and Creole blacks. They grew their own marijuana and burned patchouli incense
night and day. They had a little girl, Nymphadora, aged nearly two, who was at
present visiting Ted's parents in Cambridge. But they didn't let a little thing
like offspring get in the way of their lifestyle. Ted swore by the merits of
yoga and Andromeda had turned vegetarian within six months of dating him. If
Remus did go to a “wild party,” in defiance of his father’s orders, it would
undoubtedly be because the Tonkses took them to one.
‘Sirius!’ Andromeda squealed when she opened the door. ‘Welcome to the
outside!’ She pulled him through the threshold and hugged him. ‘How does it
feel to be emancipated from the Noble and Ancient House of Whack-jobs?’
Sirius grinned. ‘Pretty good,’ he said, looking round the flat.
‘Remus, hey!’ Andromeda continued, tugging on Remus’s sleeve to bring him
inside, too. ‘Sirius said you were visiting. Helping our young man about town
settle in to his new bachelor pad?’
‘Er...yeah, something like that,’ Remus blushed, then sneezed. ‘Do you always
burn incense?’ he asked.
‘Oh, no, you’re allergic?’ Andromeda’s face clouded. ‘Hm. I think I’ve got some
sage. Would that be better?’
‘If Sirius’s friend’s sinuses are bothering him,’ Ted commented, coming through
the bead curtain that separated the kitchen from the hallway, ‘you could offer
him a quick one before dinner.’
Remus glanced at Sirius questioningly. ‘Don’t worry,’ Andromeda said, laughing.
‘He means a smoke, not a shag.’
‘Oh,’ Remus said, much relieved. ‘I don’t smoke.’
Sirius leaned over and whispered in his ear. ‘Not cigarettes, Moony.’ He
followed Andromeda through to the sitting room. ‘He can have a puff off mine,
Andy,’ Sirius announced.
Andromeda was already dipping into a large samovar. She retrieved three short,
thin white rolls of paper and brought them over to the coffee table. Flopping
onto the red sofa, she reached for the matchbox, then crossed her ankles on the
table and lit all three. She handed one to Ted, who settled himself in a large
wicker chair and puffed like a professional, and one to Sirius, who took a more
experimental drag off his. He inhaled too deeply and coughed hard.
‘Steady on,’ Ted said, jumping up to pat Sirius on the back. ‘This is quality
stuff, this is. If you’re not going to treat it right, we’ll save it for
later.’
‘Ease off, Ted,’ Andromeda said lightly. ‘He’s just a pup. Let him get the hang
of it. Sure you don’t want one, Remus?’
Remus took another look at Sirius, trying again to smoke the thin joint, doing
it more naturally this time. ‘I don’t think so, thanks,’ he said politely.
‘It’s jolly good,’ Sirius told him. ‘Try it.’
With another glance at Andromeda, who nodded encouragingly, Remus took the
sliver of paper and leaf from Sirius. The pungent smoke tingled his nostrils
almost as uncomfortably as the patchouli. He placed the butt end between his
lips and inhaled slowly, just enough to taste it on his tongue. Almost
instantly, his tongue went numb, but the lingering, acrid/sweet taste of the
pot did open his sinuses as Ted promised. He exhaled equally slowly, enjoying
the sensation of smoke trickling through his nose.
‘He’s a natural!’ Ted beamed, and this revelation seemed to secure Ted’s
approval.
‘So, Remus, have you seen Sirius’s flat yet?’ Andromeda asked as she took
another puff.
‘Yeah, we dropped my trunk there before we came over,’ Remus said. ‘It’s a
total cesspit already.’ They all laughed.
‘I’ve never had to do my own laundry,’ Sirius protested. ‘I was only in the
place a month before we went back to school. After we finish I’ll spruce it
right up.’
‘Well, I’m glad Alphie saw to it you had enough to get by for a while,’
Andromeda said. ‘He helped us out too a bit, didn’t he, Ted? Gave us enough for
furniture and even his old flying carpet with the charm removed for a wedding
present.’
‘Alphie was a rebel,’ Sirius eulogized, sucking on his joint. ‘A...pioneer.’
‘To Alphie!’ Andromeda toasted, then puffed.
‘To Alphie!’ Sirius and Ted repeated, taking hits. Sirius held his joint out to
Remus.
‘To Alphie!’ Remus said quietly, feeling silly. He inhaled more deeply this
time. He could hear everyone’s breathing change, could almost feel the
vibration under his skin as the marijuana entered his bloodstream. He doubted
it would last long, though - his metabolism made it very hard to get drunk,
too, and he’d tried once or twice.
‘What’s for spupper?’ Sirius asked after he accepted the joint back and toked
up again.
‘There’s an Indian takeaway round the corner,’ Ted told them. ‘The menu’s in
the kitchen - neither Andy nor I are much for cooking. I thought we’d just call
in our order and I can Apparate over for it.’
‘Sounds grape – I mean, great,’ said Sirius. ‘What do you think?’ he asked
Remus.
‘I’ve never had Indian,’ Remus admitted.
‘Sure you have - you’ve had that tandoori stuff at school,’ Sirius told him.
‘Oh, the house-elves don’t really do it justice,’ Andromeda said. ‘Ted’s
brilliant picking out food for beginners, Remus - we’ll fix you up. They have a
really amazing saag curry....’
They got the curry, and masala, and a moghlai dish, with plenty of dal, naan,
raiti, and a lassi apiece. Ted insisted he was fine to Apparate and he was back
before the steam even began to pucker the cardboard lids on the aluminium
containers. Remus discovered he liked Indian food. But after dinner, things got
really interesting.
Andromeda watched them all through the meal, and as they lit up four fresh
joints after finishing their lassis, she said, ‘You two an item, then?’
Remus coughed over his toke. Sirius dragged on his defiantly and placed his
hand on Remus’s knee. ‘Yeah, we are. That all right with you?’
Andromeda shrugged. ‘Doesn’t fuss me, love. Just wondering.’
Ted looked up. ‘Andy, you thinking what I’m thinking?’
Andromeda smiled at her husband. ‘Yeah, all right.’ She sucked on her joint
once or twice. ‘Either of you fancy girls at all, then?’
‘Well, er....’ Remus stammered.
‘Occasionally,’ Sirius said candidly. ‘Why, you got any birds in your pocket or
something?’
‘Oh, no. Just wondering,’ she said again, dreamily.
Remus began to laugh. When they asked him what was so funny, he shook his head.
‘Nothing!’ he choked out between gales.
They all laughed then. ‘Know what else isn’t funny?’ Ted said through a grin.
‘Quidditch! But the...the word Quidditch is funny!’ They laughed harder, and
Andromeda fell off the sofa onto the floor from laughing so hard. Remus
instinctively reached over to help her up, and she put her hands on his biceps
to allow him to lift her. He tugged and up she came, rag-doll limp.
‘Strong!’ she observed, giggling. But then she tipped her head to one side and
kissed him, with tongue.
Ted watched, rapt, as his wife snogged another man. ‘C’mere, Sirius,’ he
beckoned, holding out one hand and patting his lap with the other.
Sirius moved forward dreamily, his eyes vacant. He draped himself on the arm of
Ted’s chair, and Ted stroked his thigh while speaking to him in a low voice.
‘Like watching him kiss her, do you?’ Ted asked him. ‘Like the way they close
their eyes, how she presses against him. You’ve watched him before, en’t you?
Watched him fuck a girl while you watched?’
Sirius nodded slowly. ‘Ever been with someone while he’s been with a girl?’
Sirius nodded again. As if the affirmative answer gave him permission, Ted
coaxed him into the chair with pressure on his hip, and Sirius slid off the arm
and onto Ted’s thighs. Ted untucked Sirius’s t-shirt, hands up under his
jumper, and Sirius watched Andromeda do the same to Remus.
‘Andy,’ Ted called. ‘We should show these boys the toybox.’
Andromeda fished her wand off the table. ‘Accio toybox,’ she mumbled. A second
and a half later a medium-sized lacquered box hurtled into the room and skidded
to a stop at Andromeda’s feet. She dislodged her lips from Remus’s ear and
half-fell onto the sofa, tugging him down by his jumper. She lay back on the
sofa and reached over her head to fiddle with the latch on the box.
‘Pick something,’ she told Remus.
Ted wrapped his hands around Sirius’s waist. ‘Bring something over here for us,
too,’ he said. ‘Gonna have to find a place to hide that soon, Andy,’ Ted
commented absently. ‘Nymphie were pulling out the manacles the other day,
trying to use ‘em for bracelets.’ To Sirius he said with a steadying pat, ‘Toy
roulette. You’ll love this.’
Remus sank to his knees and sifted through the contents of the box. He pulled
out two small red balls and set them on the table. Andromeda sighed
contentedly. Then Remus dug further and took out a luridly coloured condom
packet.
‘Give us the tickler,’ Ted said, holding out his hand for the condom. ‘Andy
will show you what to do with those,’ he continued with a gesture toward the
balls.
‘Oh, yeah,’ she said, pulling off her capris. ‘Come here, lover-boy.’
Remus crawled back to her after tossing the purple packet to Ted. He picked up
the balls off the table and held them in the palm of his hand. ‘Okay, so what
are they?’ he asked.
‘First, put your fingers inside me,’ Andromeda told him. ‘And get me all wet.’
Remus was thankful that his senses were still a bit fogged. He took another
drag, for luck, then pushed away his apprehension and ran his hand up her inner
thigh. She cooed appreciatively and guided him to touch her. As he probed, he
dimly marvelled at how similar, yet how different she was from Lily.
‘That’s good,’ she told him, pulling his fingers in and out steadily, covering
them with slick goo. ‘Now, tap the balls with your wand and say, “Vibratum.”’
Remus did so. The balls began to quiver in place slightly. ‘Put them up inside
me,’ she instructed.
Remus’s eyes popped about as far out as they could, but he struggled to hold
the balls still enough to squeeze them into her hole. He could feel them take
off as soon as they slipped past her labia, buzzing like tiny snitches inside
her canal. Andromeda began to pump her hips quickly and soon was screaming for
him to add his cock to the mix.
Meanwhile, Remus turned and saw that Sirius was helping Ted roll the purple
condom onto his considerable dick. The condom had tendrils that fluttered in
the air, long and feathery like wisps of dandelion cotton. Once Ted’s cock was
fully encased in the bright purple rubber, Ted unfastened Sirius’s trousers and
eased them down his legs. ‘It self-lubes,’ he explained, ‘but why don’t you
give it a kick-start, hm?’
Sirius ran a finger along the feathers. ‘Wow,’ he said, holding up a finger-tip
now wet with slippery stuff. He shucked off his shorts and positioned himself
over Ted’s lap, then wrapped his hand around Ted’s length and pumped a few
times. He wiped himself wet and probed his own arse a few times before lowering
himself slowly onto the purple-cased prick. ‘Oh my god,’ he breathed as the
condom slicked, tickled, and stimulated him. ‘Shit, Remus, you’ve got to try
this!’
‘Go on,’ Andromeda said, sitting up on the sofa and reaching into the box. She
pulled out a large vibrator and another purple condom. ‘I don’t mind.’
Ted took turns with both Remus and Sirius while Andromeda fucked herself with
the dildo and said encouraging, dirty things to them. Then, after the rest of
their joints and a rather awful pizza delivery, Andromeda said: ‘Ever share a
man together, then? At the same time?’
‘Andy, don’t scare them,’ Ted said, eyes twinkling. ‘But you two do make a
promising lineup.’ He licked his lips. ‘Andy sometimes uses that on me,’ he
said, pointing to the vibrator. ‘She fancies watching me take it from some
young buck.’
‘Well, we have two here, don’t we?’ she told him, and Remus and Sirius locked
eyes.
‘Okay,’ they said as one.
TBC....
***** In which Andromeda and Ted continue to play host *****
Ted guided Sirius to stand and pushed the coffee table aside. He fished out two
more condoms from the box and handed one to each young wizard. ‘Put them on
each other,’ he invited them, his cherub-like face belying the devilish glint
in his bedroom eyes.
Remus looked to Sirius to make the first move. These were, after all, his
cousin and cousin-in-law. It was one thing to agree to the idea, but now that
they were making good, it felt less like a dare than a crossroads.
Sirius, eyes overbright from the pot, took Remus’s hand and stood in front of
him. He kissed Remus tenderly and cupped his cheek with his other hand. ‘All
right, puppy?’ he asked.
Even through the hazy slowness of the drugs, despite the thickness of Sirius’s
voice, Remus knew Sirius was asking more than one question.
Remus tore his gaze away from Sirius’s deep blue eyes and looked over at
Andromeda, sitting spread-legged on the sofa with her animated vaginal balls
still whirring inside her gently, nodding and smiling at them. He glanced at
Ted, pants around his ankles, holding his balls and rubbing himself to rekindle
his erection for a third time that night. His eyes came home to Sirius, and he
saw reflected there the spark he had seen so many times before. ‘I won’t hurt
you,’ it said. ‘Never want to lose you.’ But underneath was the adventurous
spirit, the daring, impetuous, rash mischief that was Sirius. Pushing the
limits was like breathing for him. And that, too, was what made him so heart-
breakingly beautiful to Remus.
‘All right, puppy,’ Remus responded, kissing his mate again. He felt the wolf
surge at the reaffirmation, the claiming way he clamped onto Sirius’s mouth.
Sirius moaned into his open mouth and Andromeda gasped appreciatively behind
them.
They went to work, easing two fresh condoms onto each other’s cocks. Remus
wound up with another purple one with the ticklish filaments, but Sirius’s was
different - it was lime green and ribbed. Ted perked up watching them handle
each other and Andromeda slid to the floor beside him, preparing him a bit with
her hands and tongue.
‘Remus, you’ve got the purple one, so you first,’ Ted told him. ‘Come here;
this’ll be easier on the floor.’ Ted rolled onto his side, pointing behind
himself. ‘Use just the head first,’ he said. ‘Short strokes to activate the
lubrication charm. Then you can go deeper.’
Remus crawled over and lay on his side. Andromeda went back to the couch as Ted
lifted his top leg amazingly high (‘Yoga,’ he said with a shrug) to give Remus
better access. He spread his cheeks apart for him as well. Remus looked up at
Sirius, who came over to kneel over them both. He nodded to Remus.
Ted’s hole was pink and puckered and perfect. Remus positioned his prick
awkwardly, unused to the sideways angle. He held his cock at the right height
and pushed against Ted’s anus. The contact of the condom tip against muscle
instantly produced slickness there. Bit by bit, thrust by short thrust, Remus
worked his prick inside.
‘Oh, wow!’ he gasped as the spell took full effect. He had thought the tickler
only caused sensation for the receiver. But once activated, he felt a thousand
tiny tendrils massage his dick at every pore, brushing the sensitive skin like
fine mist over suede.
Ted chuckled through heavy breaths. ‘First time with one of those?’ he asked.
‘Yeah, it’s quite the experience, innit?’ He pumped his hips against Remus,
impaling himself further. ‘Fuck hard, baby,’ he implored. ‘Really jam me up.’
Remus found a rhythm and worked Ted relentlessly, encouraged by Ted’s joyous
cries of ‘Yes!’ and ‘That’s it!’ and ‘Fuckfuckfuck!’ Ted lowered his leg to
squeeze his buttocks around Remus. He struck out with his now-free hand to
touch Sirius’s protruding cock. ‘Now, you, come here to my face,’ he told the
black-haired youth. ‘Give us--oh, yes!--a taste, here.’ He pulled Sirius’s
lime-green sheathed prick to his mouth. Sirius had to put his hands down on the
floor over Ted’s head for balance, and he took advantage of the proximity to
kiss Remus’s searching mouth. Then Ted began to lick him and he sucked Remus’s
tongue in reaction. His prick suddenly felt all tingly.
‘Ted, what’s the charm on this one?’ he asked, realizing he probably should
have done so before putting it on.
Ted came up for air. ‘Engorgement. But don’t worry, it won’t take full effect
right away.’ He squeezed Sirius’s penis to gauge the progress.
Sirius hissed. ‘Tingles...burns a bit,’ he commented.
‘Better hurry, then,’ Ted said, business-like. ‘Lie down facing me. Enjoying
the show, love?’ he asked his wife.
‘Ab-so-lutely,’ she said, reaching for her drink and her vibrator. ‘You three
are just beautiful together. Really, really lovely.’
Sirius suppressed a sudden realisation that this assessment came from his own
cousin. Ted, on the other hand, was no blood relation at all, and he was
currently making Sirius throb with the need to see the experiment through to
the finish. He shoved his bottom leg between Ted’s knees and pushed himself
forward. ‘Remus, help,’ he requested, unable to find the necessary angle.
Ted wrapped him in his arms and hooked his knee around Sirius’s hip. He pulled
him closer. ‘Forward a bit,’ he coached.
Between Remus’s hand and Ted’s contortions (‘Yoga, I tell you!’ he reminded
them), at last Sirius was able to push the head of his prick into Ted and found
it standing alongside Remus’s length. It was utterly unlike any sensation he
had ever felt. The spell thickened him, lengthened him, and between that and
the tightness of Ted’s burning arse alone he felt he would implode. The
addition of the tickling tendrils and constant rubbing up against Remus, his
Remus, and Sirius thought he might just die from over-stimulation and
happiness.
Remus lifted himself onto his elbow and propped his head on his open palm. He
could see Sirius’s head press against Ted’s chest, black hair all that showed
from above, saw his legs twined between Ted’s legs. He could feel those legs
resting against his own. Sirius’s ankle brushed his, but interrupted; Sirius’s
hands reached through Ted’s arms for his waist and stroked, but it was Ted’s
back and buttocks against his body, not Sirius’s. And oh, sweet gods, the feel
of Sirius’s swollen and engorged disk thrusting, bucking against and along and
in tandem with and squeezing him up against Ted’s prostate. He could scarcely
hang on, willing himself to hold back, to prolong the experience.
But Ted writhed between them and they both tipped over the edge in mere seconds
after Sirius’s entry. Less than two minutes later, they both climaxed.
‘Don’t pull out!’ Ted demanded. ‘Stay inside a little longer. Gods, you two….’
Andromeda held up her wand. ‘Should I cast a mandatory erection spell,
darling?’
‘No, no.’ Ted waved a boneless hand at her. ‘I just…it’s not every day we find
two bucks…just want to feel them in me a little longer….’
Remus reached past Ted to pet Sirius’s shining head. ‘All right, Sirius?’ he
said softly. His climax had utterly driven away the last vestiges of his high.
Sirius looked up, eyes still a bit dilated. ‘Never better, puppy,’ he answered.
They held hands on either side of Ted for a few moments longer, occasionally
twitching back or forth, more to feel each other than for Ted, though he did
not object. The clock in the kitchen bonged slowly until it struck twelve.
Andromeda sighed.
As if the hour were a signal, all three men stirred. They separated and sat up
gingerly, investigating a few odd rug burns and stretching muscles held tense.
Andromeda began picking up the cartons of food off the coffee table, stuffing
condom wrappers and their used contents into the empties. Everyone took a turn
in the bathroom to clean up.
Remus came out of the bath last and took Sirius’s arm. ‘Well, we should
probably….’ He said, looking at Sirius meaningfully.
‘Yeah, you must be nackered, travelling here and barely had a moment to rest,’
Sirius picked up on the message admirably.
‘Why don’t you stay the night – it’s a madhouse out there,’ Ted suggested,
coming away from the window where he had been looking through the curtains.
‘Drunks and all.’ His tone was incongruously paternal after their recent
activity.
‘Nah, we’ll be all right,’ Sirius said, hands stuffed in his pockets.
‘Uh…thanks for, um…. Thanks.’ He held out his hand. Ted shook it.
‘Anytime,’ he said with a wide grin.
‘Yes, thanks,’ Remus said politely to them both. ‘Nice…meeting you.’
‘Give us a ring over the summer, Sirius, once you’re both back in London,’
Andromeda said brightly, for all the world as if nothing out of the ordinary
had happened. ‘We can bring Dora ’round and have a picnic in the park, and
all.’
Both boys made more excuses and said more awkward good-byes at the door and
stumbled onto the street.
‘That was….’ Remus said, searching for words.
‘Yeah.’ Sirius agreed, equally speechless. He stretched, looking around at
people still celebrating the new year. ‘I’ve never tried pot before.’
They both began to laugh, then catching each other’s eye, they hugged fiercely.
TBC….
***** In which Lily tries something new *****
Chapter Summary
     Mirror, Mirror, on the wall....
Three days later, they boarded the train to return to Hogwarts and met up with
the gang again. Peter showed them a few books he had smuggled home after a
visit to a Muggle bookshop. James and Lily had evidently had a terrible
Christmas, about which Lily would only say, ‘Petunia’s a cow.’ James had
choicer words.
‘But let’s move on to more pleasant things,’ he said with false brightness.
‘Sirius, how do you like single living?’
‘Hate it. Had to get Remus to run away and join me.’
Lily caught Remus’s eye. ‘How’s your mum, then?’ she asked sensitively.
‘Dying, thanks,’ Remus answered with a grimace. ‘But she wanted me to go have
fun. They won’t go to an oncologist,’ he said grimly.
‘A what?’ Peter asked.
‘A Muggle specialist,’ Lily supplied. She and Remus talked in low voices about
their sober topic while the others, after expressing appropriate sympathy, soon
lost the conversation completely and moved on.
‘Really like another language sometimes, innit?’ Peter asked Sirius and James
with a shrug.
‘Yeah. Let’s see those books.’
When they reached Hogwarts and climbed up to Gryffindor Tower, Peter checked
the potion straight off. ‘I left a sign on it,’ he explained, ‘and I bribed the
elves to stir it every couple days while we were gone. Looks perfect.’ Everyone
accepted his judgement: Peter’s best subjects were Charms, Care of Magical
Creatures, and Potions.
The term began as if the one before it had never ended. NEWTs became a constant
refrain of every teacher, but James and Peter could be counted on for their
single-mindedness about their project, almost as much as Sirius.
‘Potion’s almost ready,’ Peter reported about a week into term. ‘Remus, we’ll
need some of your hair or something when it’s time.’
‘When do you reckon?’ James asked him.
Peter worried his bottom lip with his teeth. ‘Well before the next full moon,
certainly. The potion might not work properly if it’s too close. Say, maybe
Friday?’
‘Okay,’ Remus said. ‘Who’s going to take it?’
‘Ooh, let me?’ Lily asked. ‘I’ve always wondered what it’s like to have a set.’
‘You are a sick little girl,’ James told her.
She giggled. ‘And that’s how you like it.’
 
‘Now look, Remus. Look carefully, when she takes it,’ Sirius told him. ‘I think
you’ll finally see what we all see.’
They trooped out to the common room, leaving Remus alone with Lily and a glass
of sludgy liquid. She sprinkled a clipping of Remus’s hair into it and it
stirred itself, turning a sort of goldish-grey. ‘Bottom’s up,’ she toasted, and
forced the drink down. ‘Blech,’ she had time to say before clutching her
stomach and falling to her knees. Remus rushed forward to see if she were all
right. Lily flung out a hand. ‘I’m okay—god! Ow!’ She gasped and Remus saw her
fingernails contract even as her hands widened and lengthened. Her hair receded
to shoulder length and darkened from red to brown, then lightened in places to
copy Remus’s highlights. Her chest flattened, her legs grew, and her face
rearranged itself into Remus’s bland-but-pleasant one: a long nose, hazel eyes
under a high forehead, wide cheek bones and a slightly elongated jaw, a dimpled
chin, and the bashful, boyish charm that didn’t rest in a single feature, but
shone only as a reflection of the whole. Watching the transition, Remus thought
it was not entirely unlike a werewolf transformation, though of course, he had
never observed one properly. It certainly looked like this hurt less, though
that wasn’t hard.
Eventually, her spasms subsided and she stood up, looking at her unfamiliar
arms and feet.
‘How do I look?’ she asked. Her voice was a tiny bit deeper, but it was not
Lily’s. It was somewhere between Lily’s and Remus’s voice. It was decidedly
strange to hear someone else’s voice coming out of a body that looked like his
twin.
‘Check yourself in the mirror,’ Remus suggested, indicating the floor-length
standing mirror in the curve behind the door.
Lily-Remus walked barefoot over to the mirror. Her robes were only a bit too
short, hitting her legs just above her ankles, and her sleeves had retracted
almost to her elbows, but at least she had had the presence of mind to remove
her shoes before she drank. She came to the mirror and touched her hair, her
face, and then in one swift motion, she pulled her robes off over her head.
‘Your legs are a bit longer than mine,’ she said, still in that in-between
voice. ‘But my waist was longer. We’re about the same height otherwise.’ Lily-
Remus reached across her thin chest and touched the white scar, on the left
shoulder where the werewolf had left its mark. ‘I can’t feel it,’ she said.
‘Only with my fingers. Does it feel different to you? I always imagined it
would be more sensitive.’
‘It’s a tiny bit more sensitive,’ Remus answered. He came up behind his
doppelganger. ‘But not by a lot. Depends on the phase.’ He looked first at the
sight of his body in the mirror, perhaps the most familiar view available.
There was the scar, the ripple along his hip where his skin had stretched one
summer during a growth spurt, the crease between waist and pectoral muscle. It
was decidedly odd to see his dick on someone else. Next he stepped back and
examined himself from behind. How often did one get the chance to look at one’s
arse and back full-on? He tried not to think of it as his, to see from someone
else’s perspective.
His back was straight and his shoulders were broader than he imagined them. He
had never realised how long the back of his neck was, or what that birthmark
looked like. Sweeping down to his waist, now, he noted the slender curve over
the hip, straighter than Lily’s own, but more defined than Sirius, who was
almost triangular. Remus had a waist, and his arse was…pinchable. Just looking
at the way the cheeks dimpled and cupped under to connect in a graceful arc to
his thighs…and wow. What thighs. His legs were not as hairy as one might expect
of a werewolf, but the backs of his thighs were covered in slightly darker
hair, almost as dark as his pubes. His thighs were slim but powerful, lean
muscle resting just under the skin, no fat to make them jiggle or flab. He had
never noticed before that the hollows of his knees were so attractive. Ankles
and feet were familiar territory, so he came ’round to the side and touched
Lily on her – his – arm to ask her to turn toward him.
Here was the ultimate test. Instead of the mirror-reflection he was used to, he
now looked upon his form as others saw it. Well, it was all backward, of
course; he expected that. The silver-white corded skin of his scar, which he
was so accustomed to seeing on his left-hand side, where it belonged, was now
on his right. He knew his left – no right – eye was slightly smaller than the
other, and he was only mildly surprised to have to adjust to seeing his right
nipple be the one that was just a bit higher and more to the outside than the
left. The region of his pelvis was still weird to look at. He reached up a
timid hand and ever so gently brushed his fingertips over the twin scar.
‘It’s…the skin is soft,’ he said.
‘Well, yours is too,’ Lily-Remus commented. The voice that was not quite his
voice brought him back to his senses.
‘Yeah, but…I’m so used to feeling it on the inside that I don’t notice how it
feels on the outside.’
Lily-Remus nodded. Remus continued his exploration, finding that now that he
had touched “his” skin, he wanted to stay in contact. He ran his fingers down
the outer edge of “his” arm, watching with interest as Lily-Remus’s flesh went
goose-pimply. Lily-Remus brought up her hand and mirrored the motion, smiling.
Oh. My. God. Remus thought. He’d never seen himself smile. Not like that.
Sirius had once said that Remus was the most desirable bloke there ever was,
and for the first time ever, Remus could understand why Sirius might think it.
He never had any illusions about being handsome – not like Sirius, the young
Adonis – but he also knew he wasn’t bad-looking. The smile changed everything.
At his reaction, Lily-Remus had smiled even wider, and now there was also a
glowing light in the eyes…eyes that seemed to capture and refract and send that
light back out again. Gods. He had had no idea.
‘I…. This might sound weird, Lil, but can you…can you look at me the way I look
at Sirius?’
Lily-Remus laughed. ‘Sure, I think. Hang on….’ She screwed up his face in
concentration, searching, no doubt, for an image to recreate. Remus was
gratified to see that this wasn’t sexy at all, merely as doltish as he figured
he looked at such times, when Lily seemed to find what she wanted, for she
lowered his head just a hair and smirked at just the corner of his mouth. It
was an expression that stood altogether between amusement and the beginnings of
a kiss, and damn, it was attractive, he had to admit.
But what Remus really wanted to see was his eyes. He had never been able to
truly look at his own eyes, of course, because the moment he tried, his pupils
adjusted and refocused on just the dot of iris, or the corner near the tear
duct, or the lashes, and it was impossible to get a proper sense of the whole.
But with the potion, he could look into a face that was – and yet was not – his
own. What he saw made him weak and strong, scared and excited, happy and sad,
territorial and submissive, possessive and free, and most of all, aroused, all
at once. It was that predatory look, the one even Samantha Montgomery had
noticed on his face from time to time. It was a tiny part of the wolf, peeking
out of Remus’s eyes to reveal a subsection of his soul.
‘Does it sound too crazy if I say I want to kiss you right now?’ he asked, his
voice catching in his throat and making him sound hoarse.
‘I think…it would sound crazy if you didn’t kiss me, right now,’ Lily-Remus
said in that voice that was not quite either of their voices.
Remus crashed into himself and grabbed Lily-Remus’s lips with his own. Aside
from tilting his head to avoid the nose, they needed no other adjustment – they
were, after all, exactly the same height. Remus drew his hands slowly down
Lily-Remus’s back, shuddering in response when Lily-Remus did the same to him,
and squeezed his buttocks lovingly.
‘Bet you never knew you were half so hot, did you?’ she asked with laughter
behind the words.
Remus shook his head, too overcome to speak. He hugged his doppelganger,
feeling the familiar yet unfamiliar pressure of his own cock and balls
against…his own cock and balls. It was too weird. He simply had to think of
this as some other person – not Lily, because Lily’s bush and breasts were far
too beautiful to ignore – and not himself, because that still frightened him
just a little bit. Exhilarated, too, but on the whole it was just a bit too
warped.
Particularly when the one that was not attached to him grew to fullness.
‘Remus,’ Lily-Remus said, ‘Haven’t you ever wondered what…you feel like? What
it’s like to feel you, inside of you?’
‘Oh my god…’ Remus gibbered. ‘Okay, yes, yes, but we have to hurry. You’ve only
got…maybe forty minutes. Jesus…. And Lil? Don’t take this the wrong way,
but…gods, this is weird. Your voice….’
‘Do you want your voice?’ Lily-Remus asked, in perfect imitation of Remus’s
natural sound, ‘Or mine?’ she raised her timbre, but it came out like a
falsetto.
‘Er…neither, really,’ Remus told her. ‘Just…don’t talk,’ he requested, and to
mitigate the imposition he began to kiss her – his – neck all over, just the
way he knew Lily like it. Himself, too, come to think of it.
He led Lily-Remus backward to the bed, his own bed, and evidently she
understood his wishes because she said nothing. Lily-Remus stroked her penis
experimentally, and aside from a hiss or a sigh of surprise or contentment, she
did not speak. That did not stop her from acting, however. She began to
masturbate wantonly, clearly enjoying the feeling of touching Remus the way he
would touch himself. She perked up her nipples and then clamped her arms around
his neck, drawing him down to suckle.
Remus dipped his head willingly, forcing aside the continual stream of thoughts
about how strange this all was. He concentrated hard and looked down at Lily-
Remus’s apparatus. And suddenly…it was just a penis. Anyone’s penis. Anyone’s
hard, red, slightly wet…. He bent his head down further and kissed the slit,
then the seam around the head, and before he thought too hard about what he was
doing, he wrapped his mouth around it.
Lily-Remus whimpered with the effort not to scream in pleasure. Remus licked
and sucked, ignoring his own erection for the moment in favour of his other
erection, and when he had tasted his own pre-come and looked between his legs
as another would do, saw the pink ring of muscle and the hair surrounding it
like the fine, soft hair underneath a dog’s tail, he looked up. ‘I’ve changed
my mind. The voice doesn’t bother me. This is weird for you, too, I guess,
so…go ahead. Tell me what you’re feeling.’
‘I want to fuck you, Remus. I really, really want to know what it’s like to
fuck,’ Lily-Remus said immediately.
‘Okay,’ Remus told her. They changed positions and Remus dug in his bedside
drawer for the lube, handing it to his twin as he knelt down on knees and
elbows. ‘Get me stretched out first,’ he said, ‘so that you don’t meet a lot of
resistance when you push in.’
‘Right,’ Lily-Remus said, squeezing the tube’s contents into her/his hand. She
slicked up her fingers and wiped the excess on her cock, then began by
spreading some goop onto the edge of his anus. She worked efficiently, but
thoroughly, and before five minutes had passed she had two fingers going.
‘Add a third,’ Remus coached. ‘You can speed up a bit.’
He felt the bed creak as Lily-Remus nodded behind him, then the tension of a
third finger wriggling up into his hole. The fingers twisted and pushed in all
directions for a minute or two, exploring the new territory, and then they slid
almost – but not quite – entirely away.
‘I’m going to use my hand as a guide – is that okay?’ Lily-Remus asked.
‘Yes, yes, yes, just do it,’ Remus wailed, past caring.
‘Oh. Oh, wow,’ Lily-Remus said as the head of her prick made contact with the
stretched muscle. ‘Wow. This is….’ She thrust slowly, very tentatively.
‘Harder,’ Remus choked, head on his forearms. ‘You’re not going to break, just
push.’
‘Actually, I’ve heard that it can happen,’ Lily-Remus said with a more forceful
thrust, ‘but anyway I’ve only got—Oh! Oh, oh, oh, oh…wow! Jeez-louisa, I—oh—I
think—I—know—why—you—guys—are—always—obsessed—with—sex!’ she panted out her
words on each thrust.
Remus simply clamped his eyes shut and moaned, ‘Ohgodohgodohgod,’ until he
thought he would pass out. The feeling of his own shape inside him, the slap of
“his” chest against his back, the fervent scrape of “his” nails and fingers
against his own, real, cock, was so strange, but so good, almost overpoweringly
good.
Lily-Remus pounded progressively harder, clearly really enjoying the
experience. ‘I think—I’m gonna—Oh, WOW! Damn!’ she yelled, and Remus felt the
warm liquid rush out of his duplicate, felt the semen trickle down between
flesh and tissue, felt his own erection respond and gush. He fell to the
bedspread over the wetness, too tired and overwhelmed and mind-blown to care.
Lily-Remus pulled out and crawled to face him.
‘Thank you so, so much,’ she said, kissing him with his own lips.
‘What do you mean?’ Remus panted. ‘Thank you. I…never knew….’
‘No, I know you didn’t. But now you understand, don’t you?’ His twin told him.
‘Mm.’ The thought of twins made him remember something Gideon had said, that
night on the Astronomy Tower. ‘I think so. I still think it’s weird.’
‘It’s definitely weird,’ Lily-Remus agreed. ‘But what a rush.’
‘You think most twins feel like that about each other?’ he asked sleepily.
Lily-Remus took a moment to respond. ‘I…I don’t think so. Twins look the same,
but they’re still two different people, aren’t they? And even though I look
like you right now, I’m not really just like you. It’s just an illusion.’
‘Pretty darn potent illusion.’
‘Why do you think it’s such a dangerous potion?’ Lily-Remus asked. ‘Speaking of
which…I think we’re about out of—time!’ She clutched her stomach again and
writhed over the surface of the bed, kicking as the transformation took hold of
her once more. Remus held her while she rode it out, avoiding the odd punching
limb adroitly.
‘You okay?’ he asked when her spasms subsided. She was Lily again, beautiful as
ever.
‘I’m just great,’ she said. ‘Only cold.’
‘I wonder if it’s true,’ Remus mused while he accio’d the cover off Sirius’s
bed.
‘What?’
‘That the best sex you’ll ever have is with yourself.’
TBC….
***** In which Remus gets interrupted *****
Chapter Summary
     Coitus Interruptus. It’s the worst feeling.
There were times in a young man’s life when he just wanted to be alone. Remus
was having such a day, but he couldn’t grab a moment to himself without
something coming along to force him to socialise, to pull him away, or to
simply interrupt him.
‘Should have skived off,’ he thought during Arithmancy. Professor Vector had
evidently decided today was the day to make sure Remus was fully prepared for
his NEWT, and it seemed she directed every third question to him. Of course,
there were only eight students in the Advanced Arithmancy class, so that wasn’t
too surprising.
For one thing, snow had settled over Hogwarts in great drifts. Outdoor classes
had been moved inside for the last two weeks and the Quidditch teams were
barred from practising. Most of the students were just as happy to escape the
biting winds, the icy walkways, and the wet, sloppy mess clinging to cloaks and
boots. But it was less than a week before the full moon, and Remus had cabin
fever.
He couldn’t face the idea of lunch in the Great Hall, so he headed for the
library. Madam Pince eyed him suspiciously when he entered, but seeing him
alone, she returned to her ledgers. A small knot of fifth-years were sitting in
the area by the fire, so Remus wandered the stacks aimlessly. As he walked
through the fifth row of books, Panacea Marchpane found him and wanted to ask
if he would switch proctoring duties with her. Remus pulled out his diary. They
put their heads together and found a time to swap, and Remus noted it and
excused himself politely. He moved on.
Back by the entrance to the Restricted Section, a couple were snogging on a
window seat. Remus debated for a moment, but then sighed and broke them up,
taking five points apiece for the public display. He wandered away.
He avoided the common room and dormitory for obvious reasons. He stalked the
corridors, casting about for someplace to be. After too short a time, the bell
rang. Remus faced a moment where he could go to class or not. Had it not been
McGonagall’s he might have made good on his earlier threat. But it was
Transfiguration, and McGonagall was Head of his House. Sighing, he forced
himself down the staircase to his lesson.
Class was torture. Even James and Sirius could not keep Remus from fidgeting.
Rather than steady him, as they usually did by making him feel someone should
be the responsible one, their presence felt oppressive. He wanted to push
everyone away. He knew it was the wolf rebelling against even the illusion of a
cage. That didn’t make the urge any less palpable.
As soon as class ended, he shrugged his friends off and ran upstairs to the
dormitory, threw his bag in the room and went to the bathroom for his shower
kit. Perhaps a soak in the Prefect’s Bathroom would calm him down. He closed
his eyes, already imagining the fragrant bubbles and the soothing, deep tub,
the cool tile floor and the faint echo that signified solitude in a place where
such privacy was rare. Yes, that was what he needed. He grabbed a fresh change
of clothes and made his way down to the common room.
‘Remus!’ Frank Longbottom called him. ‘Could I ask you a question?’
‘Sure, Frank,’ Remus said, turning around with his usual benign smile.
The single question turned into half an hour’s tutoring on counter-curses.
Frank was appreciative and pleasant and good-natured and utterly hopeless, but
at last he beamed up at Remus with comprehension. ‘Thanks so much, Remus. I’m
pretty sure I’ve got it now. Sorry I held you up, really.’
‘It’s okay. I had nowhere in particular to go.’ Remus lied. By now, it was
suppertime, and since he had skipped lunch, he was really very hungry. He still
couldn’t stand the thought of a common meal, but he couldn’t very well sneak
down to the kitchens at peak time. He went back upstairs and stuffed his kit
into his bag, then followed a straggling line of students to the Great Hall.
‘That slimy pissant little git!’ Sirius growled as he slammed into the seat
next to Remus. ‘Remus, do you have any idea—’
‘No, Sirius, and I don’t care. Professor Dumbledore told you over a year ago -
almost two years ago - that if we picked any more fights with Snape, you’d be
through,’ he answered without looking up.
‘I’ve only got ‘til June,’ Sirius grumbled.
‘Exactly, so you should be able to—’
‘—He had my brother—my own brother!—turn all my books blank. Every single one!’
Sirius held up a token. His Transfiguration textbook was utterly white inside.
‘How am I going to do our assignment for next week, then?’
Remus sighed. ‘It’s probably just an invisibility spell, Sirius,’ he tried to
placate him.
‘I tried that!’ Sirius shouted over the din. ‘Don’t you think I tried that?’
‘Don’t get angry with me Sirius; just borrow someone’s. It’ll wear off,
whatever it is.’
Sirius fumed over his pork pie, ‘Doesn’t even count against Snivellus, because
darling ickle Reggie did it.’ When Remus did not respond except to grunt
noncommittally, Sirius frowned at him. ‘You all right? You’ve been off all
day.’
‘Oh, very nice,’ Remus quipped. ‘When it’s just me being out of sorts, you
don’t say a word. But fail to sympathise with you over a minor inconvenience,
and suddenly you’re concerned?’ Remus stood up. ‘Piss off, Sirius.’ He stormed
away from the table, heading for the bathroom.
Two steps out of the Hall, he regretted snapping, but he did not turn back.
Sirius would understand that he just needed space. And anyway, they would patch
it up before long – they always did. But it was proof that he needed to relax a
bit. He climbed the staircase and followed the twisting, turning corridors
until he reached the Prefect’s Bathroom.
Everyone was still at dinner; the room was completely devoid of people. Even
the mermaid in the portrait was asleep. It was bliss. Remus wasted not a minute
turning on his favourite taps, adding the ones with chamomile and lavender-
scented bubbles to calm his frayed nerves. He laid out his things while he
waited for the tub to fill. It was soothing already, to hear the gush of water
into the tub echo softly off the cavernous walls. For such a large tub, it
filled awfully quickly, and Remus grabbed a fluffy towel and placed it nearby
before easing himself into the hot water.
‘Oh, heaven,’ he thought, breathing the steam and luxuriating as the warmth
seared right through his skin and into his muscle, into his bone. He swam
across and turned off all but one of the taps to keep the bubbles from getting
out of hand, then floated on the tiny waves for a moment before ducking back
under the water to swim back to his kit. He washed his hair, shaved, and
scrubbed himself thoroughly within mere minutes and allowed himself to lie back
against the edge of the pool and just…be.
‘Loony, Loopy Lupin! Loony, Loopy Lupin!’
Remus sat up with a start at the first syllable. He jumped nearly a foot, but
then remembered he was in the water and had to swim in place to avoid going
under. He had been there so long, the bubbles had all but gone, though the
water was still quite warm. ‘Peeves!’ he yelled sternly. ‘What are you doing
here?’
‘A better question might be, what is you doing here, Loony Lupin?’ Peeves
asked, somersaulting almost to the surface of the water and breathing garlicky
odor in Lupin’s face.
‘I’m taking a bath, what does it look like?’ Lupin said calmly. He showed no
reaction to Peeves’s rancid breath; he had learned during their first year that
the best way to deal with the poltergeist was to ignore his attempts to rile.
Peeves peered into the water. ‘Looks like something else to me!’ he cackled,
and Remus tried to cross his arms over the view. He couldn’t cover up and tread
water at the same time, though, so he kicked back to the ledge where he had
been sitting.
‘Jealous, Peeves?’ he asked as mildly as he could given his embarrassment.
Peeves pealed with laughter. ‘Lupin’s got a secret,’ he sang tauntingly. ‘And
it’s not that he’s a w—’
‘Leave him alone!’ the mermaid had woken up. ‘Leave him be! Or I’ll tell Mr
Filch you’ve been hanging about, waiting again.’
Remus glanced up at the mermaid. How long had she been awake? Probably when
Peeves started yelling, he decided.
‘Waiting for what?’ he asked her. She winked at him merrily.
‘You’re no fun at all,’ Peeves told her. He produced a slingshot from his back
pocket and loaded it with a large, fat pellet. ‘Let’s see if we can fix Lupin’s
problem, ay?’
Remus’s eyes went wide. Was Peeves serious? He dove under and swam for the
other side seconds before the pellet hurtled into the water where he had been.
More to the point, where his boner had been. He broke through the surface on
the other side. Peeves had turned to follow, still squealing with laughter, and
he loaded another pellet.
Remus ducked under again and this time, when he reached the other side, he
climbed out quickly and lunged for his wand on the bench by his dry clothes.
‘Extrudisio!’ he yelled, pointing up where Peeves had been. But he had
vanished. The spell dissipated with no target. The mermaid was peering over at
him curiously. Remus blushed bright red. His cock stood fully at attention,
bouncing slightly with each breath he took. Remus made a strangled noise. The
mermaid flicked her tail and seemed about to say something.
‘Just don’t,’ Remus shot at her. He held up a hand, fingers pointed up and palm
out, and slipped back into the water. The only thing on his mind now was to
wank off his erection as fast as possible so he could clean up, dry off, get
dressed, and get back to the dormitory to resolve his fight with Sirius. All he
wanted to do was be where he could have a bit of a snog with his boyfriend. But
he could hardly walk through the halls announcing himself with his prick! He
had no choice; if he wanted to salvage this attempt at relaxation, he had to
jack off.
Ignoring the mermaid’s attempt to converse, Remus sat on the ledge and cupped
his balls. He stroked his cock quickly, forcefully, trying to get it over with
as soon as possible. It wasn’t working – he was putting too much pressure on
himself. He slowed down, closed his eyes, and thought about sex. Images passed
through his mind on a continuous loop, wandering from one encounter to the
next: Gideon Prewett riding a broom as the handle moved in and out of Remus’s
arse; Sirius shucking his clothes in an absurd but sexy striptease; even the
sound of his own voice reading Samantha’s steamy letter to Magical Matchmakers.
Lily wearing his skin.
‘Ahem?’ said another voice above his head. This was not the mermaid’s – for one
thing, it was too close to come from the wall. It wasn’t Peeves – far too
polite. This was a girl’s voice. A girl? Oh…no….
Remus opened his eyes and looked into the face of Richard Turpin’s sister,
Janice. She was a seventh-year, like himself, but prefect in Ravenclaw.
‘And just what are you doing in here at this hour?’ Janice asked. Luckily, she
hadn’t seemed to look under the water, yet. Remus had been so, so close….
‘I…’m taking a bath,’ Remus said reasonably. ‘Do you mind?’ He made a gesture
toward the door.
‘I certainly do,’ she told him haughtily. ‘Why are you here now? It’s the
girls’ time to use the bath.’
Remus heard, to his horror, a small chorus of voices agree with her. He craned
his neck to see the four other girls with her, all in their bathrobes. He
recognised Janice’s fellow prefects from seventh-year for Slytherin and
Hufflepuff, and also the sixth-year Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw girls.
‘Oh,’ he said, at a loss for something appropriate to say. They seemed to
expect something better than that, so, ‘I…forgot to check the rota,’ he
explained by way of apology.
‘Too right you did,’ said the Slytherin prefect, Viola Pruning, in a tone of
accusation.
‘Well, if you’ll clear off a minute, I’ll…I’ll get out,’ Remus said to Janice,
ignoring the other girl.
Janice pressed her lips together. Before she agreed, though, the sixth-year
Hufflepuff, a girl named Hyacinth Noland, shrieked and pointed. ‘Look at him!
Look! Look at his…. Eeeew!’
Remus felt like he should drown himself right there. It just couldn’t get any
worse, or so he thought. The girls were all shouting, screaming, or laughing at
him. Janice shook her head and looked remarkably like Professor McGonagall when
she told them off for pulling pranks on the other students: surprised at Remus,
more than anything else, and disappointed. Hyacinth was hysterical and it was
all Beatrice Branstone, Hufflepuff’s seventh-year prefect, could do to calm her
down.
How could he just get them all to clear off long enough for him to get out of
their way? Every time he tried to say anything, they began yelling at him
again, Janice in particular. He wished his erection would just go away, shrivel
up in the water and then at least he could get out under cover of the towel
that still lay nearby. But it appeared that, despite his keen embarrassment,
some part of his young body responded to being naked in front of five young
women, covered only by pinkish-green, soapy water.
‘Look, I’m sorry! Just…go outside, okay? I’ll leave, if you’ll just give me a
minute,’ he implored Janice.
‘We’ve already seen quite enough, Remus,’ she told him. ‘I shouldn’t delay
another minute if I were you.’
The girls all laughed again, and more than laughed. Was it his imagination or
was Beatrice Branstone sneaking another look right at his crotch? Unbidden,
Remus remembered that Bea was one of the first people to write asking for a
date with Remus, and hers was one of the better ones. As if that one thought
were enough to discount all that had happened between it and the image of Lily
looking at him with his own eyes, he felt the sudden contraction deep in his
scrotum and the pulsating release of ejaculation ripple through him. A small
trail of white shot into the water. Remus splashed the edge of the pool to
cover up the sudden addition of foam.
His violent splash at least made them all back up. ‘Turn around, then, at
least,’ he ordered, and they all seemed to realise that he was through playing.
They turned their backs and Remus scrubbed himself once for good measure, then
launched out of the pool and immediately grabbed his towel. He wrapped it
around his waist furtively, scooping up his shower kit, and carried everything
over to the bench. Still dripping wet, he threw his robes over his head and
jabbed his arms into the sleeves. He reached underneath the robes, scrubbed the
towel over his butt and legs, and pulled it out. Then he stuck his legs through
his underwear, grimacing at the damp.
‘Okay,’ he said, stuffing the rest into his bag for later. ‘Sorry,’ he
repeated. He hoped they would be as embarrassed as he and not say anything, but
he just wanted to leave as soon as possible.
‘Why are there stones at the bottom?’ Janice asked him before he could get
through the door.
‘Because Hogwarts isn’t a glass house?’ Remus replied, and escaped. He had
never been so grateful for empty corridors as he was on his way back to the
tower.
TBC….
***** In which Remus exchanges a Valentine *****
Remus had told Sirius that he now understood, but that he still felt terribly
uncomfortable with the idea of anyone using Polyjuice Potion of him to have sex
with someone else – especially if that person did not know it wasn’t really
Remus. They still had most of a cauldron of potion, though, and Peter refused
to chuck it all down the drain, after the trouble it took to make.
Sirius came up with a use for some of it. He still wanted revenge against Snape
for dispatching Regulus to erase his textbooks. A week later, they still had
not reset themselves, and Sirius was driving everyone mad asking to borrow
their books. Madam Pince had long ago informed him that as far as he was
concerned, the entire contents of the library were to be considered “Reference
Only” and she refused to let him check out even so much as a copy of Quidditch
Through the Ages.
‘What if one of us takes some Polyjuice of a girl Snape likes, and gives him a
Valentine?’ Sirius proposed near the beginning of February. ‘He’ll think it’s
real! He’ll find her later, only he’ll find the real girl! Can you imagine?’
James grinned and clapped his hand on Sirius’s shoulder. ‘That’s just the
thing, Padfoot,’ he said eagerly. ‘No way to pin it on us, is there? He’ll have
seen her with his own eyes! It’s perfect.’
‘I really think—’ Remus began, but Peter cut him off.
‘Oh, come on, Moony.’ He waved a hand impatiently. ‘Are you seriously telling
me you don’t want a crack at Snape, too? Scot-free? After what he told the
Slytherin Quidditch team?’
Remus looked at the three of them. ‘What? What did he tell the Quidditch team?’
Sirius squirmed in his chair a bit. ‘We didn’t want to tell you,’ he said,
looking accusingly at Peter. Peter clapped his hand over his mouth.
‘Oh, shit. I forgot, sorry,’ he said.
‘Tell me what?’ Remus asked dangerously.
‘Well…he waited until you were out of class, after the full moon,’ James said.
‘He knew you wouldn’t be there that day.’
‘Tell me,’ Remus repeated, a feeling of dread settling in his stomach. He had
not told the others about his encounter in the bath just before the full moon.
And one of the girls had been Snape’s counterpart in Slytherin….
‘He…he said that you were suspended for the day, because you’d been waiting for
a bunch of girl prefects. He said you jumped out at them and chased them around
naked.’
‘Viola Pruning confirmed it. She said she was there.’ Sirius looked ill.
‘Remus, I don’t know where they got the idea.’
‘I do,’ Remus sighed. And he told them what had happened. ‘I figured they’d be
as mortified as I was,’ he finished miserably. ‘I never thought Viola was that
viscious.’
‘She isn’t,’ James said with a shake of his head. ‘But put her together with
Snape, Regulus, Evan and the rest of the gang….’
‘You know Snape’s been looking for ways to get to us, even though he can’t lift
a finger per Dumbledore’s orders,’ Peter added. ‘Viola probably didn’t even
mean for him to get involved. She just…said something where he could hear it.’
‘Yeah, or someone else in Slytherin told him.’
‘Simpler than that,’ Lily said, coming in to the dorm, ‘Viola’s dating Evan.
Didn’t you know?’
‘Bugger me.’
Peter jumped to his feet. ‘Now you have to want to do this!’ he entreated Remus
with both hands on his arms. ‘You can’t tell me you’re going to take that kind
of a rumour lying down!’
Remus sighed. ‘If anyone figures it out, we’ll all get expelled.’
‘No one’s going to know, are they?’ James said. ‘Easy as pie. We get a hair off
a girl we know Snape likes, but who wouldn’t be caught dead with him – which
is, well, anyone, really. One of us takes the potion, delivers the card in
person, and hides out until the potion wears off. Then we just let fate take
its natural course.’
‘Sounds right to me,’ Lily said. ‘I still don’t understand why you all have
such a rivalry, and I don’t approve of picking on anyone,’ she explained when
James gaped at her. ‘But this is just an out-and-out attempt to humiliate
Remus, when he’s done nothing to deserve it. Oh, I know all about the bath. It
was an honest mistake, could have happened to anyone,’ she concluded in answer
to Remus’s astonished expression.
‘So, you’ll help?’ Sirius asked her tentatively.
‘No way,’ Lily said, crossing her arms. ‘I’ve taken that stuff once, and that’s
quite enough. The being isn’t so bad, but the coming and going? Uh-uh.’
‘Well, you’d be turning into another girl, so it shouldn’t be so bad,’ James
placated her. But Lily would not be moved.
‘I’ll do it,’ Remus said decisively.
‘You sure?’ Sirius asked. ‘I mean, it’ll be nearly the full moon again at
Valentine’s.’
‘Peter, will it be safe?’ Remus asked.
‘I’ll have to check, but I think so. It’s only dangerous if someone tries to
turn into you too close to the full. It’s not like using a dog hair by mistake
or anything.’
‘Okay. Yeah, I’m sure. I want to set him up myself.’
 
Being a girl was decidedly weird, Remus decided. Lily had done a bit of
investigating and found that Felicity Munro could safely be said to be an
object of Snape’s affection, and as luck would have it, Lily knew Miss Munro
through the chess club. She obtained the requisite genetic material, and found
Remus a girl’s uniform from the laundry. A casual conversation with Felicity
yielded her shoe size: six, which was also Lily’s size, so she lent him a pair
of her shoes for the occasion, among other accoutrements.
Robes weren’t all that different, he reasoned as he tried to walk in the
unfamiliar Mary Janes. Air around the knees was really rather like being robed
in the summer, wearing shorts underneath and nothing else. But every time he
moved, he brushed against his own breasts (which were ample). He kept wanting
to readjust his testes, but they weren’t there. His hands were smaller; he
couldn’t hold as many books as he was used to do. Mostly it was the feeling of
being smooth where he was usually bulky, and bulging where he was usually
smooth, that unnerved him.
He had a little less than an hour to find Snape (somewhere Felicity would not
be), get him to accept the card, and get away, and most importantly, get back
up to the dorm to hide until the potion wore off, without being seen on the
way. He had started down in the potions dungeons, since he also knew this was
near the Slytherin common room entrance, but the classrooms there were all
empty, and no one seemed to be coming or going through the corridors. What if
Snape were in the common room? Remus worried. What if he didn’t come out at all
before the hour lapsed? Forcing down panic, Remus reasoned that they could
always try again later, though he agreed with Lily: he didn’t really relish the
idea of transforming all over again. Wolfish transitions were bad enough.
He stood in the entrance hall, wondering whether he should go elsewhere to
look, or wait there on the assumption that Snape would have to come through on
his way from his common room eventually. The risk, of course, was that Snape
would come along just in time for the potion to wear off. Remus clicked his
tongue in impatience. He couldn’t wait. He thought about Snape’s usual haunts.
The pitch was out; it was far too cold. He had tried the potions dungeon, and
Snape was hardly ever to be seen in the Astronomy Tower region. He knew from
Peter and Sirius that Snape did not take Divination, so he had no reason to be
anywhere near Professor Palmer’s tower. Sometimes, he knew, Snape could be
found hanging about the greenhouses. And there was always the library, or the
small corridor behind the portrait of Fractius and Nilvus Craven, the brothers
famous for inventing Wizarding Wireless, which wasn’t too far from there. He
decided to check the library, since it was the least likely place the real
Felicity might be.
He prowled through the stacks carefully, preferring to see Snape before Snape
saw him. He took his watch out of his pocket (it was too big for Felicity’s
wrist) and checked the time; he had about two-thirds of his hour left. Good.
Enough time to check somewhere else before it wore off, but if the next
location didn’t yield results, he’d have to abort.
He checked through the stacks on the other side before he came ’round the
corner. It felt a bit like being a spy, and Remus suppressed a laugh. That
reminded him, he’d better remember to imitate Felicity’s voice, though he
wasn’t altogether sure Snape had ever heard her speak. And…there he was. He was
sitting in the window seat, leaning against one of the columns that supported
the leaded glass, his beaky nose stuck deep in a giant book. He had one foot on
the seat in front of him; the other leg extended off the seat cushion. His
robes were open and Remus could see the conservative—old-fashioned, even—cut of
his trousers over his boots. It was possibly the most relaxed Remus had ever
seen their nemesis.
‘Good,’ he thought with determination. ‘He’ll be off-guard.’ Remus looked down
at his robes, making sure that his bosom still existed, and he dug the card out
of the little bag Lily had lent him. He pressed forward, remembering everything
he had observed about Felicity, which admittedly wasn’t much. He hoped it would
fool the other boy.
‘Er…Severus?’ he asked coquettishly. He didn’t have to feign nerves, at least.
Snape’s head jerked up and he planted his feet back on the floor. Remus was
reminded of a time once when Turner drove them back after a very late evening
at a festival in the village. They had turned onto the long drive from the road
up to the Park, and there had been a doe standing on the gravel, just beyond
the gate. Rather than move out of the way, the deer had stood, transfixed in
the headlamps of the old Rolls, staring back at them until Turner tooted the
horn. Snape looked like he had no idea what to expect.
‘Miss…Miss Munro,’ he managed finally. His eyes were pointedly aimed underneath
Remus’s face. The book lay open across his lap, and Remus reasoned that he was
probably using it as a shield.
Remus smiled, and that wasn’t fake either. ‘Felicity,’ he simpered. ‘Well, I
didn’t want to interrupt, but you seemed rather…engrossed.’ He twisted his hips
a bit as he’d seen her do on occasion. Snape’s eyes widened, but at least he
tried to cover his reaction.
‘Oh, uh, no…I was just…reading,’ he trailed off, and his sallow skin looked
faintly ruddy. Remus felt a surge of pride. Snape was blushing!
‘I see that,’ he said in his most “natural” falsetto. ‘Well, I just
thought…that is, it’s nearly Valentine’s Day, and—’
Snape had snorted, his flush disappearing rapidly. ‘What of it?’ he asked
darkly. He crossed his arms and leaned back again.
‘Don’t you like Valentine’s?’ Remus fought to control his laughter, but he
couldn’t help having a bit of fun with this. ‘I love it. It’s so romantic, in
the middle of winter and all—’
‘Did you have something to ask me?’ Snape cut him off with a sigh.
Too far, Remus realised. He wasn’t entranced anymore, only annoyed. He turned
up Felicity’s charm. ‘Actually, yes,’ he said. ‘I didn’t know you felt that
way, though. So maybe you don’t want this….’ He held out the card.
Snape eyed the envelope as if it might explode any moment. ‘What is it?’ he
asked, not bothering to mask his suspicion.
‘It’s a Valentine’s card, silly,’ Remus said, rolling his eyes and letting his
voice break. He bobbed onto his toes and then let one ankle roll forward with a
shrug. ‘For you.’
Snape still didn’t touch it. He looked side to side, checking around the
nearest stacks. ‘Who told you to give me that?’ he inquired.
Interesting, Remus thought while he feigned innocence. Snape didn’t suspect
Felicity of playing a trick on him, so much as he seemed to believe that she
was either the willing or unwitting participant in someone else’s plan to prank
him. Remus twisted the long, blonde hair to mimic Felicity’s nervous gesture.
‘Well, Severus, what a thing to say! No one told me; in fact,’ he added for
verisimilitude, ‘a few of the girls said I was probably wasting my time. But I
don’t think I’m wasting my time. Do you, Severus?’ Remus leaned forward,
worrying his bottom lip with the edges of his front teeth. He lowered his voice
just a hair, hoping it created a seductive effect.
Whether or not it did, it seemed to work. Severus choked back what might have
been a moan. He looked positively terrified for a moment. Two seconds later, he
swallowed and regained his detached composure, but he held out his hand
tentatively.
Remus smiled triumphantly and put the card in Snape’s hand. He even forced
himself to squeeze Snape’s hand a tiny bit and brush his thumb over his wrist
as he pulled away. ‘Why don’t you read that, and then come find me with your
answer,’ Remus whispered in his best imitation of desire. He ducked through the
stacks, turning to wave once and wink at Snape before he walked away. Two
stacks down, he fled.
He made for the nearest short-cut, behind a tapestry and up a short flight with
a trick stair, breathing heavily. His hand burned where he had touched Snape’s
skin. Was it some property of Snape’s skin, or did he just imagine that his
flesh was infected? He shook his hand out rapidly to stop it tingling. How much
time did he have to get to Gryffindor? He stepped out into the corridor at the
end of the stairwell, where the torches shed more light, and fished out his
watch. Twenty minutes to go? That was all the time it had taken to deliver the
card? Standing there, talking to Snape, had seemed like forever.
‘Felicity!’ a voice called down the hallway. ‘Hey, I’ve been looking for you,’
the voice continued.
‘Bugger,’ Remus thought. Elizabeth Stevens, of all people. Next to Samantha
Montgomery, she was Felicity’s best friend. There was no way he could fool her.
‘Hi, Lizzie,’ he said, turning to smile at her. ‘Um...I really can’t chat, I’m
afraid....’
Elizabeth rolled right over him as if he hadn’t said anything. Fortunately, or
unfortunately, it seemed Elizabeth didn’t really expect Felicity to say
anything. She launched into a lengthy and breathless explanation about an
invitation she had received from Matthew Tennyson for the next Hogsmeade
weekend. Remus tried several times to break away, but Elizabeth nattered on,
oblivious. In desperation, Remus began walking down the corridor. How much time
was left?
Elizabeth fell into step without hesitation. ‘You’re right; we should get to
Defense Against the Dark Arts,’ she said, assigning a different purpose to
Remus’s body language. But then she went right on with her chatter.
Remus panicked. ‘Uh... Lizzie? That’s great, really. But I have to...make a
stop.’
‘Oh, me too,’ Elizabeth said immediately, leading the way to a girls’ bathroom.
Remus considered lingering in the bathroom and sending Elizabeth on by herself,
but the timing worried him. He went in, waited until Elizabeth selected a
cubicle (still talking incessantly), and then doubled back into the corridor.
...And right into Snape.
Remus bounced off the other’s dark robes. Without thinking, he clutched his
chest where they had collided. He started when he gripped soft flesh instead of
the smoothness he was used to.
Snape also took a step or two backward, but unfortunately for Remus, he looked
up in time to see Felicity squeeze her breast at him. He apparently took it as
a crude invitation, for without bothering to speak, he grabbed Remus’s arms
above the elbows and pushed him against the wall.
Remus gasped and instinctively pushed back, but in this form, he was not
naturally strong. He could not simply shrug and throw Snape off, as he could
have done in his own body. He had no leverage. Even as he fought, he remembered
that this Felicity was supposed to be attracted to Snape. He didn’t know what
to do next.
The token rebuff only seemed to excite Snape more. He closed in, pressing the
length of his body against “Felicity.” His breath wasn’t horrible, only not
particularly fresh, Remus had time to notice before Snape tilted his head to
one side and pressed their lips together. He ground his hips toward his quarry,
trying to deepen the kiss. His nose crushed against Remus’s cheek.
Remus stood, horrified, frozen, pinned to the wall, beneath the assault. There
was really no other term for it, even if his card had supposedly invited
interest. Gods, Snape was disgusting. Then, most terrifying of all, he felt a
tug deep in his abdomen, beneath his stomach...between his legs. Had he been in
his normal body, he would have sworn it was the prelude to an erection.
Impossible! He could feel Snape, hard inside his trousers, but Remus was still
decidedly unadorned down there. Unless.... What time was it? he thought
desperately. He had wasted at least fifteen minutes with Elizabeth, which meant
the potion was probably going to run out any minute. He had to get away!
Before he could even break the kiss, the door to the girls’ room opened and
Elizabeth came back out.
‘Felicity? Where’d you disappear to--Oh, my God!’ she screeched, seeing Snape
all over her friend. ‘What the hell are you doing! Get off of her, you animal!’
Snape backed away in alarm. ‘I...she started it!’ he pointed at Remus, for all
the world as if they were six.
‘Are you mad?!’ Elizabeth scoffed, reaching for her wand. ‘Why in Merlin’s
name--’
Remus felt an odd tingle all over. It was similar to the tiny warning he got
when his werewolf transformation was about to overtake him. He ducked back into
the girls’ room and quickly locked himself in a cubicle to let the potion wear
off, leaving Snape to Elizabeth’s wrath.
A few minutes later, he heard the door swing open. ‘Felicity? He’s gone.’
Elizabeth’s feet appeared on the other side of the cubicle door. ‘He just ran
away down the corridor, not so much as a word. Do you have any idea what he
thought he was doing?’
‘Actually, I do,’ Remus said in his own voice. He had taken off all the
clothing except the outer robe, which covered everything important. The shoes
were far too small and he didn’t even want to consider what to do with the bra.
‘Lizzie, you’re not going to believe this, but....’ He opened the door.
‘Oh my God!’ Elizabeth shrieked. ‘Felicity, what did he do to you?’
Remus rolled his eyes. This would take some explaining.
TBC....
***** In which Remus scares himself *****
He didn’t have to think twice about telling Elizabeth to tell Felicity before
she was treated to a dose of Snape’s “affection.” It wasn’t only that they
might tell Snape that the Marauders had planned it. Remus thought, at worst,
Snape would make a fool of himself asking Felicity for a date. He never
imagined Snape’s “style” would amount to attempted rape! Prank or no prank, he
wouldn’t want anyone to have to endure being summarily pressed against a wall,
crudely kissed and roughly molested. No one should have to feel Snape’s hard-on
against one’s leg, smell his hot breath, or put up with his clumsy attempts to
make love. Had he ever been that unnatural? Had Sirius? Snape had no subtlety;
he was a brute. But he didn’t really deserve to be expelled for over-eagerness,
especially when Remus admittedly had been winding him up.
Remus could understand why anyone with half a brain would be utterly sick at
the thought of Snape in love with one. What he couldn’t understand was why on
earth he might dream about Snape that night.
It was quite the nightmare. The worst part about it wasn’t even the rape
scenario. It was Remus’s reaction to it.
It started with the same kind of encounter, only Remus was not female. He came
up to Snape in the library, where he had been reading. What followed was a
terse and somewhat awkward conversation about nothing, after which Remus walked
away, as he had that day. And, as it had happened in reality, Snape caught him
in a corridor a few minutes later. But then it diverged markedly.
Instead of colliding, Snape came up behind him and pinned his arms to his
sides. His breath brushed Remus’s ear and sent shivers all the way down his
spine. Remus didn’t even know what Snape said; it was the fact of him that
aroused. The fact that he hadn’t heard or smelled Snape coming convinced him it
was a dream; even at the low point of his lunar cycle, Remus could generally
never be surprised that easily.
Yet even as he thought that, the scene replayed in his sleep: He wasn’t
surprised; he sensed Snape coming, and thrilled to the chase. Quickened the
pace, aware that Snape was closing, coming to get him. He began to run. Snape
was suddenly on his heels. Remus’s wolf-instinct leapt into control and he
turned, snapping, to face his attacker.
But Snape overpowered him, the way he had overpowered him in Felicity’s shape,
pounced on top of him and bowled him to the ground like he were the wolf, and
Remus the smaller prey. And in the way of dreams, they were suddenly in the
forest, not a Hogwarts corridor, and Remus kicked his assailant away only to be
captured again. Snape caught him ’round one ankle. He dragged him backward by
his leg, and then, running his hands up toward Remus’s thigh, he climbed onto
Remus’s body.
He covered Remus’s length with his own, and when he reached Remus’s ears, he
began whispering again in that commanding, sibilant voice that made Remus turn
into a puddle. It wasn’t what he said that mattered so much as the presence of
that warm vibration against his skin. Snape tore his robes away brutally and
before Remus could draw a preparatory breath, Snape rammed into him.
He was warm, hot even, against Remus’s back. His dick was massive, making Remus
feel like his sphincter might burst, and it slammed against his prostate with
every primal thrust.
Like Snape’s real attempt to snog Felicity, there was nothing about the
scenario that could be construed as love-making. It was lustful, it was
violent, and it was incredible. Remus thrashed in his sleep from the force of
his dream. Sex was too delicate a term. Rutting about captured it.
Remus woke in a sweat, wondering if he could possibly be attracted to Snape. He
didn’t want to consider it, but the wet, slightly sticky, cooling mess in his
pyjama bottoms indicated at least a transitory fancy. Then another black-haired
boy stirred in the bed beside him, who murmured gently and nuzzled closer to
his back. Sirius. Remus turned himself over in relief, filling his nose with
Sirius’s distinctive scent, a mixture of cinnamon, woodsmoke, and something
bitter and citrusy that combined in Remus’s head to mean Sirius. He snuggled
under the cover and could not help but touch Sirius to reassure himself. This
was what he wanted, not that greasy, crude, incompetent Snape.
And yet, why dream about him like that? There was something about the encounter
that had obviously appealed. Remus allowed his hands to wander across Sirius’s
chest, his back, and kissed the tip of Sirius’s nose, then his cheek. Sirius
sighed, snuggled, and muttered something unintelligible, but did not wake up.
Disappointed, Remus tried again to coax Sirius to wake. He caressed Sirius’s
arse, pressed his leg to Sirius’s balls, kissed his lips gently. ‘Sirius?’ he
whispered in the dark. Sirius smiled and Remus felt at least part of him wake
up. ‘Sirius?’ he asked again. ‘You awake?’
‘Mwuf,’ Sirius said.
‘Sirius?’ Remus rubbed him harder. ‘Sirius, are you awake?
Sirius yawned. ‘I guess I am now,’ he said softly. ‘Ooh,’ he continued when
Remus reached down and stroked him more urgently. ‘Though this is a nice way to
wake up....’
Remus snorted his laughter and kissed Sirius, poking his tongue forward to open
his lips. Sirius complied with pleasure. ‘I need you to....’
‘To what?’ Sirius asked, and pushed the covers down a bit. ‘To kiss you like
this?’ He dipped his head to Remus’s neck.
‘Yes, but...I want you to force me. Hold me down.’
‘Er,’ Sirius rolled onto one elbow, ‘not that I object in theory, puppy,
but...you’re stronger than I am.’
‘I know.’
‘So if you want to play rough....’
‘I’ll hold back. I want it rough. I want you to be rough. Just for now.’
Sirius shrugged. ‘I can try,’ he said gamely. ‘Long as you promise your
resistance will be token. Don’t break me.’
Remus laughed and shook his head. ‘I shan’t.’
Sirius lifted himself out of the mattress and stood up. ‘We need more room.
Bath or downstairs?’ He pulled his bathrobe on and looped the belt loosely.
‘Downstairs,’ Remus said with a glance at the clock on the table. ‘Catch me,’
he challenged, then launched out of bed and ran for the door.
Sirius raced after him, ’round and ’round the turret stairwell, down toward the
common room. He nearly caught Remus on the first of the dormitory floors, but
Remus burst away at the last minute, just as Sirius was about to grasp his
shoulder.
‘You’ll pay for that!’ Sirius half-whispered, half-yelled. The chase was a good
idea. A sense of competition brought out his more predatory streak and made him
just an ounce annoyed at Remus. He’d need those emotions to play out this
fantasy for his partner.
They flew into the empty common room, where a banked fire was the only sign of
life, and it and the faint moonlight through the windows were the only light.
Remus rounded one of the sofas when Sirius entered the room. Sirius altered his
trajectory and came to the opposite end of the sofa. Remus backed up and tried
to run to his left. He wove between it and the study-table next to it. Sirius
stepped forward and to his left, in front of the sofa. Remus jumped away, but
Sirius snapped his arm out with reflexes honed from practising Quidditch with
James. He caught Remus’s wrist and tugged.
Once he felt himself in Sirius’s grip, Remus did not resist. He went limp and
allowed Sirius to throw him over the sofa back. He fell to the cushions and
instantly felt Sirius’s weight on him.
‘Thought you could run?’ Sirius asked intensely. ‘Thought you’d get away from
me?’ He planted one knee on Remus’s thigh, squeezed his wrist as he pushed it
into the pillow. ‘You should know better.’
Remus’s pulse quickened, not just from the race down the stairs. This was what
he craved: the excitement of the hunt. His erection already strained against
his pyjama bottoms, and he could smell Sirius’s desire. It was just the
scenario that had enthralled him, not the identity of his attacker. It was so
much better for Sirius playing that role.
He struggled ineffectually, making noise but saying nothing. Sirius shoved him
into the sofa. ‘Fight all you want,’ he said menacingly, ‘you know that just
makes it worse for you...and better for me.’ Sirius growled and repositioned
himself, still holding Remus in place, to force Remus’s legs apart.
Remus longed to wrap his legs around Sirius’s waist, but he desired more to
play out the scene in his mind. He bucked his hips so that their dicks ground
against one another, but used the motion as another attempt to throw Sirius
off.
Sirius jammed his knee against Remus’s groin. ‘That’s it, slut, just fight
away.’ He pushed his chest down, forced Remus’s mouth open and rammed his
tongue inside. Remus stifled a shout. He twisted one arm free and beat against
Sirius’s arm. Sirius caught his arm and wrestled it down, pinning it between
the seat-cushion and the back of the sofa. He reached farther and yanked on
Remus’s pyjama bottoms. Remus, utterly caught up in the excitement, bit
Sirius’s tongue a touch too hard. He opened his mouth immediately in shock.
‘I’m sorry! I’m sorry!’ he said quickly.
Sirius reared and cracked his hand against Remus’s jaw. ‘That was not very
nice, poppet,’ he told Remus, channelling his discomfort and amusement into
anger. ‘Now, hold still, and we can get on with it.’ He tugged on the cotton
pyjama bottoms and worked them efficiently off Remus’s legs. ‘Or do I have to
hex you to obey?’ he asked.
‘You don’t have your wand,’ Remus cracked defiantly.
‘Don’t I?’ Sirius had a mad glint in his eye. ‘Think I need a wand to hex a
puny maggot like you? Half-breed scum,’ he tossed in, ‘pretending to be normal.
I know what you are. This is all you deserve.’ He put one foot on the floor,
forcing Remus’s leg to hang off the edge of the sofa, and he pushed his cock
against Remus’s arse. It slid between him and the cushion. Sirius took Remus’s
hand and stuck it between their legs. Remus grasped Sirius’s dick reflexively
and guided him toward his anus. Sirius drew back. ‘Don’t even think it,’ he
said dangerously. ‘Don’t you think you can control this if you co-operate.’ He
drew his wand from his robe pocket and uttered a quick lubricating spell. ‘It’s
not for you,’ he assured Remus. ‘I don’t really care if you get hurt, werewolf.
But I value my prizes.’ He repositioned again and this time did not hesitate.
He pushed forward, hard enough to drive deep in one stroke, but slow enough not
to hurt too badly. Remus hissed and exhaled in a fevered rhythm, and he could
not resist canting his hips to meet Sirius’s assault.
‘Yes, that’s it! Oh, yeah,’ he encouraged Sirius, forgetting the scenario.
‘Pound me, yes, yes!’
Sirius fell on top of him, exhausted not so much from the sex, but from the
persona. ‘Did that help you, love?’ His voice was muffled from where his head
rested against Remus’s neck.
‘Was it difficult?’ Remus asked.
‘A little. It’s hard to pretend I want to hurt you. Did I hurt you? Can we go
to bed now?’
‘Sure. No, you didn’t hurt me. Well, a little, but it was okay. You’re crushing
me now, though.’ Sirius pinched him before he rose.
‘You are one perverse werewolf,’ he said as they climbed the stairs.
‘Is there any other kind?’
TBC....
***** In which Peter intercepts a letter *****
Schoolwork took over for the next week or so, as if every professor in the
place had decided to shake off the winter doldrums by sadistically assigning
loads of homework. It was just as well, as far as Remus was concerned, because
Snape had apparently tried to apologize to Felicity, who, armed with Remus’s
account, had taken advantage of the situation to rebuff him on the basis of his
behaviour, rather than on sensible principle. Unfortunately, she had told him
this loudly, publicly, and rather carelessly, and now everyone knew he had
tried to make a move with her. Everyone gave Snape a very wide berth for the
days and weeks following, and any students who ran afoul of the seventh-year
Slytherin prefect, even fellow Slytherins, were liable to find themselves a few
points down before they could escape.
Remus picked up a few sickles tutoring the younger students, and the next full
moon served to calm the worst of his restlessness. Unfortunately, the wolf had
also injured himself quite severely tumbling down the mountain after a close
encounter with a thestral. The others had had all they could do to get him back
to the shack, and even then, they’d had to wait until morning and he resumed
his human form to get him back indoors properly.
The moon also coincided with a Hogsmeade week-end, so Remus was confined to the
hospital wing with his knitting bones, while everyone got a much-desired day in
town. That afternoon, Peter came to him with a problem.
‘Remus, I checked the post box at the Owl Office today.’
‘I thought we took down the ads around school.’
‘We did - we’ve matched up everyone we can and it really made no sense to
continue. Lily took them all down weeks ago.’
‘But then....’
‘I took some of the money we had and used it....’
‘Peter,’ Remus warned icily.
‘I ran the ad in the Prophet. Only once,’ he qualified immediately. ‘I just
thought it would make things look more legitimate.’
‘Jesus, Peter,’ Remus breathed.
‘I know, it was thick,’ Peter whined. ‘But...well, we got this one owl, and I
don’t know if I should show you or not.’
Remus blanched. ‘You got an owl about me? Through the Daily Prophet?’
Peter nodded, looking ill. He drew the envelope out of his robe pocket and
handed it over.
Remus recognised the stationery and ink immediately. ‘You’re joking!’ he said,
eyes widening.
Peter shook his head. ‘I haven’t told the others,’ he said. ‘And I stopped
reading when I realised. It’s up to you if you want to read it.’ He stood up
and walked away, then turned suddenly. ‘But if you do, tell us what it says?’
Then he left him alone in the hospital bed.
 
Remus turned the letter over in his hand again and again, deciding whether or
not he should open it. The very thought that Professor McGonagall should send
in a letter with his name in it made him blanch. Perhaps it was innocent?
Perhaps...perhaps she had guessed it was one of their schemes? He shifted on
the cot painfully, cursing, not for the first time, the way that werewolves did
not usually respond to ordinary magical remedies. Reasoning that his curiosity
would take his mind off his itching bones, he flipped open the envelope, slid
the letter out, and began to read.
Dear Magical Matchmakers,
I can’t quite understand why I’m writing this. It’s the kind of thing that
should probably best be kept locked in a drawer, under the stockings, as it
were, but.... Dear me, here goes. Confidentiality is assured, so I see in your
ad.
I have a student...no. I don’t want to give the wrong impression. I have no
intention of crossing that line inappropriately. If he were only thirty years
older.... I suppose I am wondering if there could be anyone else in the world
quite like him. You see, he is a werewolf. I’m not crazy, I assure you: He is
perhaps the gentlest soul I have ever encountered.
We arranged for a safe location, duly inspected by the Registry Support
Services Office, for him to undergo his transformations. I mention this only
because, confidentiality aside, I shouldn’t wish anyone to think we would ever
endanger another student. There has been one incident, though it was clearly an
accident and he had no knowledge of it beforehand. But I’ve read that Animagi
can sometimes be a calming influence on a transformed werewolf. Were it not for
the sanctity with which I view my position as a teacher, I should have come to
him in cat-form long before now. I wish I could spare him the loneliness of his
nights in transformation, but such is the boy’s lot.
You might think that it’s no different for an Animaga to find a mate than
anyone else. Well, of course, so much of my life is occupied by teaching,
that’s a strike right there – who has time to look around? But it’s not just a
lack of time that prevents me from finding someone to share my days. Only
others who have undergone the Animagus transformation can really understand one
another. There’s something primal about one’s animal form. It’s liberating.
Enlightening. You have to understand this, because an Animagus knows himself in
a way few wizards can claim. After observing this young man for the better part
of seven years, it seems to me that perhaps, werewolves too must know
themselves at a different level than others. Most would tell you that the curse
does not bring with it a true totem form, and perhaps that is so. But with this
boy....
Perhaps because he was bitten so terribly young, and yet miraculously survived.
Survived and more, he has adjusted better than anyone could have imagined. A
more self-possessed youngster you could not hope to find. He has a maturity
well in excess of his years, and yet retains the boyish charm that endears him
to nearly all around him.
As I said, if he were only older, but that is why I rather despair to find
anyone in quite his situation, so well equipped to know another who has come to
terms with her animal self. The way that he responds to his curse is...well,
it’s like the wolf would have been his form, had he a choice. But he’s much too
young, of course. So I’m looking for someonelikethis young man, if such a
person exists. If he did, I would welcome the opportunity to meet him.
Wizards who have not studied the totem, who have not connected in that way,
usually find Animagus proclivities odd, to say the least. I’ve never met any
man both so even-tempered and so necessarily aware of the primal within
himself. But he keeps himself in check so obsessively, I fear that he needs
someone to guide his primal urges. Under other circumstances, I would be
honoured to be that person. The one who teaches him the joy of a simpler
existence as an animal. We are not beasts, for we retain our identity and our
intelligence. Indeed, we have to do, or we could never return from the totem
form. But it is true that our animal forms are not as complex. They eat. They
sleep. They chase mice. They…well, they mate. They protect their chosen
companions. They make contact, often marking each other the way animals do.
I’m most uncomfortable going into more detail, but I simply don’t know if you’d
truly understand any other way. Animagi...need to be able to be with their
mates, to be accepted both in their animalistic forms, as well as in our usual
human shape. It’s very difficult to explain to an outsider. For example, I am a
cat, and thus I would wish to be able to be with my intended as a cat.
To demonstrate, if I were matched to a werewolf, I would remain with him during
his transformation, doing what I could to keep him distracted from causing
himself or others injury. We would mark each other and rub against each other’s
fur. Our contact as animals would be extremely important. The communion of our
totems is as intimate as any other act we could commit. Whether or not we
attempted any sort of sexual union, which I doubt, considering our disparate
species and sizes, we could express our mutual affection in ways that defied
human description. I could knead his fur with my paws or bathe him with my
tongue to the point of release.
Once he calmed and settled for his morning transformation, I would remain in
cat form. I would lick his wounds, if he lets me, and after he endured the
change, I would curl up and offer him comfort with my heat and my purr. I would
again mark him, under his chin, against his shoulder, leaning into his
heartbeat. I would sniff his skin, and if any of his wounds had remained
through the transformation, I would help them to heal with my tongue. My gentle
laps would not disturb him, merely bring him a sense of peace, of
companionship. Later when he woke, I could choose to remain the comfort of a
pet, or transform into the competent nurse he might need. From grooming to
simple contact, I would be so grateful to be able to touch someone in such a
private way.
Beyond the understanding necessary for true relations between an Animagus and
any other person, I must confess that this young man is a model in other
respects. He has a gentility and a sensible streak that cloaks a deeper, more
mischievous spirit. He is the type of man whocouldbe cruel, but who will not
be. He is slow to anger, with a healthy humour about his fate and the trials of
his fellow students. He is neither too short nor too tall; neither too fair nor
too dark; he is a bit too thin, but it’s his metabolism, bless the boy—he’ll
never fatten up. He is extremely intelligent and if he is a bit diffident, that
is only to be expected due to his circumstances. If he were older, I should
shag kiss the diffidence out of him. Oh, dear.
Yes. Well, someone like this young man, then. Oh, and if it’s not too much
trouble, I should like someone with a really firm bottom. I do like a man whose
arse is muscular. Legs, too, of course.
I know you ensured confidentiality, but I can’t quite take that chance. I have
spoken frankly about matters that could easily be misconstrued. I have
therefore put a little spell on this letter, merely to assure that anyone who
should read it will not disclose its contents except with the intention of
fulfilling my wishes. I do assure you again that I would never, ever, let my
feelings for this boy influence either my treatment of him or my behaviour in
any way. Let us say that I wish to transfer the maternal instincts he elicits
into something more meaningful, with someone more appropriate. I have a post
box in Dundee, where you may correspond. Though I don’t suppose I’ll be hearing
anything, at any rate.
Yours very sincerely,
Minerva McGonagall
 
Remus blinked at the final paragraph again. A spell? Peter said he had stopped
reading. But this was Professor McGonagall. It’s quite likely that the spell
had affected Peter even in the first seconds of opening the letter. Did that
mean that subconsciously, Peter was trying to send Remus to the Professor? And
what could Remus do about it now?
He folded the parchment carefully and slid it back into the envelope when Madam
Pomfrey came to give him more painkilling potion. Not that it really worked.
Besides, his leg wasn’t bothering him nearly as much as his head.
He must have fallen asleep, for when he woke, the hospital wing was lit by
lamps instead of the weak sun filtered through glass. He heard the purring
first, looked down, and saw that a tabby cat was curled up, asleep, near his
foot. Not on it, but close to it, close enough to jump away as soon as he
moved. Remus held himself still, wondering if the cat were really Professor
McGonagall, or simply the cat of a student, and not at all magical.
The cat opened one eye and yawned. She stood, stretched, and picked her way
carefully up the bed to Remus’s hand. She sniffed experimentally, and Remus
held his hand still despite the tickling whiskers and the tingling of air from
the cat’s breath. Then the cat pushed her head under Remus’s palm, and he
stroked along her head and back. She continued her trek and curled up once
more, this time in the hollow of his chest. Her body-heat and heartbeat were a
comforting rhythm against him. He stroked the cat absently while he lay back on
the pillow and tried to rest.
Before long his hand felt too heavy to keep petting her and he rested it on her
head, where the fur was smoothest. She wriggled free and repositioned herself
and Remus felt a series of rough, light swipes over his chin where the skin had
been scraped in his fall. The scrape of sandpaper on his cut was a tiny bit
painful, but more soothing than not. He sighed contentedly and wrapped his arm
around the cat like a teddy bear. The cat went on licking. Every so often, she
rubbed the top of her head against his jaw.
Remus drifted in and out of sleep. The cat stayed with him. At one point, he
recalled lifting up the sheet and the cat burrowing underneath. He felt her
whiskers brush along his body as she sniffed all the way down, tickling his
most sensitive regions with her fur and her breath. Then she turned around and
came back to lie down with her back to his chest, her chin resting on his arm
and her nose poking out of the covers. He turned onto his back and she climbed
up onto his abdomen, settling in a circle between his hips. Right on top of his
crotch. The weight and the warmth felt natural, and as long as she didn’t start
kneading or anything weird, Remus decided he didn’t mind.
He woke later, leg itching like mad, but able to bend when he tried. The cat
was gone. He had no idea if he’d dreamed it, or only parts of it, but he felt
as rested as he usually did when Sirius stayed with him as Padfoot. He’d had no
idea there was a known benefit to being with Animagi. He’d have to tell Sirius
that it wasn’t just them. He was sure that much wouldn’t interfere with the
spell she had placed on the letter. He still didn’t know how to tell the
others, or even if he could, or should. But he thought he could worry about
that another day.
He wondered if Professor McGonagall had a name for her cat-form. He wondered if
she’d ever allow herself the indulgence again. He wondered if Madam Pomfrey
would ever release him from the hospital wing.
TBC….
***** In which Bill Weasley asks for extra-curricular help *****
Chapter Notes
     My math is as bad as JKR's, but I wanted Bill to be available for
     this!
Remus limped back to the dormitory a few hours later. His leg felt more like a
bad sprain now, and he could stand to put his weight on it fairly well. He
didn’t particularly want to run any races, but it would be better by morning,
probably.
‘How’s your leg?’ Sirius bounded up to him as soon as he came through the
portrait door. He took Remus’s arm and supported him to the nearest chair.
‘I’m fine, Sirius, leave off, will you?’
‘R-remus?’ one of the younger students, a boy with very red hair and a quantity
of freckles, interrupted their repartee.
‘Yes, Mr Weasley, isn’t it?’ Remus asked.
‘Yes,’ the boy said. ‘Bill. I’m not disturbing you, am I?’
‘Not at all, what can I do for you?’ Remus reflected that sometimes, knee-jerk
politeness was less than a virtue.
‘Well, I was hoping you could find some time for me? Professor Raines assigned
a whole bunch of counter-jinxes to practise and….’
‘You need help with your technique?’
‘Yeah. And memorising the spells,’ Bill told him. ‘I heard you get good marks
from Raines, even though he never gives good marks to anyone,’ he continued,
his last statement more bitter than the rest. ‘I’m all right in every other
class. Professor Raines just doesn’t like me.’
‘Professor Raines just doesn’t like anyone, unless you’re a Slytherin,’ Remus
explained. ‘And even then…. All right. How about Wednesday?’
Bill nodded, but then leaned in. ‘Only thing is, I can’t really pay you.’
Remus smiled. Gideon had told him once about his elder sister, and how none of
them were left well-off when their parents had been killed by Voldemort. ‘It’s
okay,’ he whispered to Bill. ‘Just don’t tell anyone what you’re paying me.’ He
winked as he straightened up. ‘So, Wednesday? In the empty classroom near
Professor Vector’s office?’
‘Okay,’ Bill said with a nervous laugh, and moved back to his circle of friends
on the window-seat.
‘Are you still tired, puppy?’ Sirius asked eagerly. ‘Because you won’t believe
what happened in Hogsmeade.’
‘Tell me upstairs,’ Remus answered. He leaned on Sirius’s arm to pull himself
out of the chair and defiantly walked up the turret stairs under his own steam,
limping as unobtrusively as possible.
‘Well, first, Peter wants to set up another shoot for Friday. We’ve still got
Somnophilia and Menage-a-trois to set up. That okay?’
‘I suppose…you, me, and Lily?’
‘Yeah, with faces hidden.’
‘Right.’ He settled on his bed and kicked off his shoes. ‘So what happened in
Hogsmeade?’
‘Oh, just something about Snivellus. Let’s get you to bed.’
‘Sirius, you didn’t—’
‘Had nothing to do with it. I swear. None of us did. This was Lizzie and Sam
and their lot.’
‘Girls?’ Remus’s eyebrows reached for the top of his head.
‘Yep. They bewitched his clothes,’ Sirius reported with admiration.
‘To do what?’
‘You mean what not to do, Moony. His robes sewed themselves up with him still
in them. Trousers too, Lizzie tells me. He was quite stuck in them. The hem of
his robes acted like a drawstring, he could barely move.’
‘How did he get out?’
‘What makes you think he got out?’
‘Sirius….’
‘Okay. Rosier came along and lifted the spell. Still. It was quite a sight to
see him on the ground, with his hands sewn into his sleeves and his robe
looking like a closed potato sack!’ Sirius wiped his eyes. ‘Moony, I’m so glad
you played that trick on him. It’s the prank that keeps on pranking!’
‘I don’t think it’s really that funny, Sirius,’ Remus said softly.
‘Oh, come on!’
‘No, I mean it. It’s not Snape’s fault that that card got his hopes up. Have
you ever been turned down by a girl?’
‘Have you?’
‘I don’t care if I have been,’ Remus said with a shrug. ‘But most blokes would
do. I think Lizzie should just let it drop. He’s already terrorising the
younger students, taking points for any little thing.’
‘All right, all right,’ Sirius allowed with a wave of his hand. ‘I didn’t know
you were going to be so morose about it.’ He stood up. ‘I’ll leave you to
rest.’
Remus caught his hand and pulled him back. ‘Stay with me? As Padfoot?’ he
requested. ‘I’ll explain later,’ he promised.
Sirius simply shrugged and a flash later was Padfoot. He pulled himself onto
the bed and licked Remus’s face affectionately. They napped together and Remus
privately confirmed his professor’s statements in her letter: being able to be
together, no matter what the form, made all the difference.
 
By Wednesday night, Remus’s leg was fully healed and his other injuries were
long faded. He pulled out his first- and second-year Defence Against the Dark
Arts texts and went to the appointed classroom to meet Bill Weasley. On the
way, he bumped into Kingsley Shacklebolt. The sixth-year Slytherin was tall,
handsome, and the current star of their Quidditch team.
‘You off to the library?’ he asked in his deep voice when they met on a
staircase.
‘No, I have a tutoring appointment,’ Remus answered. Kingsley barred his way
with an arm on the banister. ‘Shacklebolt, I need to get past before the—’ The
staircase they were on rumbled and broke away from the wall. It swivelled
slowly south. He was stuck, for the moment.
‘Been meaning to ask you sommat,’ Kingsley said. He was quite tall already, and
standing above Remus, he loomed impressively.
‘What’s that?’ Remus swallowed. Kingsley was one of the three people Sirius
agreed to let him date. Could he be about to ask….
‘You heard what happened to Snape lately?’
‘Oh. Yes. I can’t say I blame Felicity, but I hardly approve of her revenge, if
that’s what you—’
‘Nah,’ Kingsley sneered and waved his free hand, ‘that’s not my problem.
Problem is he’s being a right prat about it and no one can talk him down.
Swears he was set up. As if,’ Kingsley chuckled, ‘Felicity high-and-mighty
Munro would have anything to do with the pathetic rotter in the first place.
But that’s not the half of it.’
The staircase clunked into its new moorings. Neither of them moved. ‘Thing is,
see, that he’s taken it into his head that your lot are somehow behind it. That
you put Felicity up to giving him some ridiculous card. That’s what Rosier and
Lestrange say, anyway. Now, there wouldn’t be any truth to that, would there?’
Remus looked up into Kingsley’s chocolate eyes. His dark skin seemed to swallow
the faint glow of the torches and almost reflect it back, like polished
mahogany. His hair was bristle-short and tightly curled. He had an earring.
‘That’s new, is it?’ Remus heard himself asking, pointing to the gold hoop.
‘Christmas. Answer the question, Lupin,’ he threatened.
‘Or….’
‘Or I’ll start asking more questions myself. Anything to shut the bugger up. As
we heard it, you lot aren’t supposed to be getting up to any japes. No more
taking the mickey out of Snape, or the Headmaster will dump all four of you out
on your ears. I’d hate to think after so stern a warning, and with so little
time left in school, you all might come to nothing over a simple prank gone out
of control, right?’
‘Shacklebolt, are you trying to scare me or help me? Because either way, you
can piss off. Everyone knows that Snape’s had a crush on Felicity forever.
She’s one of the best-looking girls in school; it’s hardly surprising.’
‘Everyone knows, but since when does a puny thing like Snape go after the prize
like that? I’ve never even seen him look twice at a girl, not seriously. Why
now?’
Remus shrugged. ‘I honestly couldn’t say. Have you asked him?’
Kingsley snorted. ‘Like I said, he says she approached him. Now you know and I
know that’s not very likely. So what really did happen?’
Remus tried to get around Kingsley. ‘Why would you think I know anything? I’m
late--’
‘I’m not done,’ Kingsley said, blocking him. He had his wand out before Remus
could blink. ‘Did you put her up to it? Revenge for that story he told about
you in the Prefects’ Bath?’
‘Snape misinterpreted events. I have nothing to prove.’
‘One of your friends, then? Look, I don’t really care. Tell you the truth, I’m
about ready to knock his head in myself. But the way I figure it, if that is
what happened, you’ll want to cover your tracks a bit.’
Remus sighed. It was tiresome to spar verbally with Shacklebolt, particularly
when he was right. On the other hand, he was a Slytherin, and as he admitted,
he had no love for Snape. ‘What do you want, Kingsley?’ he asked in a soft, but
cutting tone.
Kingsley smiled, white teeth glinting in the torchlight. ‘A date with you.’
Remus didn’t have to feign surprise. Shacklebolt wanted to blackmail him into
something he wanted to do, anyway! He frowned. ‘I’m involved elsewhere,’ he
said, shaking his head.
‘I know.’
Remus cleared his throat. ‘Let me get this straight. You think I arranged for
Felicity to come on to Snape, when she had no intention of entertaining his
advances. You expect me to cheat on my partner with you, in exchange for which,
you’ll....’
‘Drop my investigation. Tell Snape he’s barking, that I had a “talk” with you,’
he slapped his wand tip against his other hand, ‘and I’m convinced that your
merry band had nothing to do with whatever unfortunate incidents occurred
relative to Felicity Munro.’
Remus pretended to think about it. ‘We didn’t have anything to do with it,’ he
said after a moment.
‘All right,’ Shacklebolt said, tilting his head sideways in a shrug. His neck
cracked when he righted himself. ‘So you should go on a date with me, and I’ll
tell Snape that.’
‘And he’ll believe you?’ Remus pressed.
Kingsley came down one step. While this put his face more on a level with
Remus’s, it also brushed their chests together. ‘I’m very convincing,’ he
rumbled.
‘One date,’ Remus insisted.
‘That’s all it will take,’ Kingsley answered. He slipped his arms around Remus
quickly and half-lifted him to his toes to kiss him. He was strong and
forceful, but in contrast to Snape, he clearly knew what he was doing.
‘Friday night,’ he said after he let go. Remus leaned against the banister.
‘I have plans. Saturday,’ Remus countered.
Shacklebolt nodded and backed up the staircase. ‘Seven o’clock. Entrance hall.
Don’t be late.’ He disappeared into the corridor to the left of the flight, and
the staircase began its trek back where it started.
 
Remus stopped in a bathroom nearby to compose himself before meeting Bill. He
hoped the young man would still be there, since his negotiation with Kingsley
had put him quite behind schedule.
Bill was there, packing up. ‘I thought you maybe changed your mind,’ he said,
brightening when Remus set down his things.
‘No, sorry. I was just delayed.’ Just damn near brought off in the middle of a
staircase by nothing more than a cheap thug with a good tongue, he thought,
then forced the thought away. ‘Now,’ he said, shaking off the encounter and
pulling out his wand, ‘what did you need help with? Blocking spells? Disarming
charms?’
‘I need Professor Raines to like me.’
Remus stared at Bill. ‘Bill, don’t...Professor Raines doesn’t like anyone.’
‘Yes, he does. He likes you.’
‘No, he doesn’t,’ Remus laughed and took a seat at one of the desks.
‘He talks about you all the time,’ Bill informed him. ‘He’s always mentioning
you as an example.’
Remus grunted in surprise. ‘Well, he doesn’t show it,’ he commented. ‘But
anyway, Bill, really, it’s not important if he likes you or not.’
‘But it is!’ Bill cried. ‘I can’t...I can do the work, but when he growls at
me, I freeze up.’
‘I can’t make...I don’t know how to stop that, Bill,’ Remus said honestly.
‘He’s never been kind in person.’
Bill sank into a chair and swung his legs angrily. ‘He’s a rotten professor,’
he grumbled. ‘Flitwick’s nice. McGonagall’s strict, but she’s okay. Dee’s fine
as long as you pay attention. But Raines.... He’s horrible. I wish you taught
Defence.’
Remus smiled. ‘Well, thanks, Bill, but I don’t really think that’s likely,
either. Look, if you want help on your counter-curses, and it’s Raines that
throws you, maybe I should try to fluster you a bit. Like Raines would.’
‘Okay, that sounds good,’ Bill said eagerly. He slipped out of his seat and
came to the centre of the room. ‘You be Raines, then,’ he instructed, ‘and
I’ll...be me.’
Remus laughed. He cut himself off, though, so he could impersonate their
irascible Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher. ‘Weasley, if you’d be so kind
as to show the rest of the class how to counter the Jelly-legs Jinx? I’m sure
it will prove enlightening,’ he sneered.
‘Yes, sir,’ Bill chirped. He held up his wand and executed a simple wand
movement. ‘Dextrus!’ A small stream of white fizzled from the end of his wand.
‘Pitiful,’ Remus assessed. ‘I expect better from someone of your stock,
Weasley.’
‘But I did it right,’ Bill said informally, looking up.
‘Did I give you permission to speak, Weasley?’ Remus asked sharply.
‘No, sir,’ Bill answered softly.
‘What?’
‘No, sir,’ he said more strongly.
‘Kindly demonstrate again, properly this time, if you can manage that,’ Remus
requested archly. It was rather cathartic, to imitate their most hated
professor. He knew his subject, and there was no doubt students learned, but
more out of fear than excitement. He paced a tight circle around the desks with
his hands clasped behind his back.
Bill set up again and again executed the spell correctly.
‘Hm,’ Remus grunted in a grudging acknowledgement. ‘Of course, it’s relatively
simple to execute a spell under sanitised conditions. Weasley, I wonder how
well you can defend against this!’ He turned in a swirl and said,
‘Rictusempra!’
Bill jumped. ‘Protego!’ he yelled, but not fast enough. Remus’s curse hit him
in the stomach, and he began laughing.
‘Finite Incantatem,’ Remus said quickly. ‘Are you all right, Bill?’ he asked,
dropping his imperious character.
‘I’m...fine...’ Bill choked out between breaths. ‘This is great, Remus.
Really...what...I need.’
‘Okay,’ Remus agreed. He closed his lips between his teeth, thinking. ‘I think
we need a signal, to make sure we stop if you need to do. How about if you just
say “Godric Gryffindor” if you want to stop. I can’t imagine that coming up in
a conversation.’
‘Sure,’ Bill said with a shrug. He stood up and inspected his wand tip. ‘Let’s
go.’
‘Unacceptable performance, Weasley,’ Remus told him instantly. ‘However, I
don’t fancy ruining my career for a puling idiot such as yourself.
Unfortunately, it seems your incompetence has made your classmates equally
unwilling to stand up against you. We shall therefore be forced to find some
other object on which to...rehearse.’ He waved his wand in an intricate motion.
A whole bunch of balloons appeared. ‘Each of these contains a spell. I will
release them, Mr Weasley, and you shall attempt to combat them.’
‘That’s amazing,’ Bill gasped.
‘What have I told you about speaking when not invited to do so?’ Remus hissed.
Bill hung his head.
‘Now pay attention, please. Ready, on my mark, go!’ He popped a balloon with
the lit tip of his wand.
‘Locomotor Mortis,’ the balloon called out. Bill dropped his wand.
‘Weasley!’ Remus shouted in mock-anger. ‘If you fumble like that in a battle,
you will surely never survive. Do you wish to become fodder for the Forces of
Darkness?’
‘No, sir!’ Bill said quickly.
‘Then concentrate!’ He crossed to the balloons again. ‘Three. Two. One. Go!’
The balloon popped, reciting a curse to raise boils. Bill came up with the
counter-curse within a few seconds.
‘You’ll have to be faster than that, Weasley. Do you think a dark wizard would
wait while you thought of the spell you need? Try again.’
The third balloon held a disarming spell. Bill cast the shield charm again,
this time quite well indeed.
Remus sighed. ‘Bill, I don’t think this is working. I don’t think I’m
intimidating you enough.’
‘No, you are,’ Bill insisted. ‘It’s helping. In fact, I like it,’ he admitted.
‘Can we have another go? Only this time, can we…can we not concentrate so much
on magic, but just….’
Remus thought he might understand. ‘You have something planned, don’t you? And
you want me to role-play Professor Raines for you to practise what you want to
say to him? That you want him to be nicer to you in class?’
‘Not just in class. Anywhere. I want him to like me. And yes, I do want to talk
to him about other things.’
‘Never going to happen, not to your face,’ Remus explained. But the look on
Bill’s face was so desperate that Remus gave in with a sigh. ‘I don’t know why
you’re such a masochist,’ Remus told him, looking at his watch. ‘But, all
right. We can have one more go before we better get back.’ He sat back down at
the desk. ‘Well, Mr Weasley, what is it you wanted to talk to me about?’
Bill beamed at him. ‘Sir, I wanted to ask you about career advice.’
‘Career advice?’ Remus echoed. ‘Don’t be daft, Weasley; you’ll discuss career
advice with your Head of House, fifth year. Now run along.’
‘I really wanted to talk to you, sir,’ Bill insisted, coming around the desk to
one side. ‘You see, I want to be an Auror, or a curse-breaker, or something
like that. And I know that my Defence marks are probably the most important
factor in acceptance.’
‘You?’ Remus asked disdainfully. ‘Well, I suppose there’s enough money in it,’
he commented crassly.
‘Please sir, it’s not the money, Professor.’
‘Well, apply yourself to your studies, Weasley, and don’t waste your
professors’ time.’
‘I hoped you’d be willing to give me extra coaching,’ Bill blurted as Remus
rose. Bill reached out impulsively and took Remus’s hand.
‘If you do that to Raines, you might not get it back,’ Remus said suddenly,
snatching his hand away.
‘I can’t help it!’ Bill wailed. ‘I think I’m going mad, Remus. I think about
Professor Raines all the time. When I’m not in class, I want to be in class
with him, just to be near him. He used to be a curse-breaker, you know. I’ve
seen pictures in his office. Sometimes I think I do poorly in class just to get
detention with him, just to be alone with him! I know it’s wrong! I can’t help
it,’ he concluded miserably. He threw himself into the nearest chair and put
his forehead in his hands. He began to cry.
‘Hey, steady on,’ Remus said, perplexed. ‘It’s…normal to get crushes on
teachers. It’s okay,’ he told the boy. Bill’s face was red and blotchy now.
Great tears spilled out of his eyes and splashed on the desk. Not knowing what
else he could do, Remus put his arms around the younger student. ‘I’m glad you
said something,’ he said between patting Bill’s head and back. ‘It happens
occasionally. Don’t know why you picked Raines, though,’ he joked. Bill
hiccoughed and took a huge gulp of air. ‘Look, you can’t go ’round trying to
get teachers to like you, especially not that way.’
‘I know!’ Bill cried. ‘I just…the way he looks at us. It makes me want to do
anything for him. Anything! I want to fall on my knees and beg him to like me.
I want to touch him. I want him to touch me.’
‘Er…’ Remus replied. The idea of anyone crushing on Raines was probably about
as disturbing as anyone with Snape, but at least Raines was admittedly dashing.
‘Well, I understand,’ he said to comfort Bill, ‘at least in principle. But you
could get in a lot of trouble. And so could Raines.’
Bill was inconsolable. Remus sat down next to him and pulled him into his lap
like a father or elder brother. Counselling was perhaps his least favourite
part of being a prefect, but Bill clung to him as if Remus might fall apart
without being held. Remus simply sat, smoothed Bill’s hair, and said the same
encouraging nothings his mother said to him when he was younger, until Bill’s
weeping subsided.
‘I’m being a baby,’ Bill announced.
‘No, you’re just lonely,’ Remus assured him. ‘It happens. It’s okay.’
‘I think…’ Bill mused aloud. ‘Do me a favour: Insult me like Raines?’
‘Weasley,’ Remus said in imitation of Raines’s irritated bark, ‘if you think
your transparent attempts to sway my affection with this…this utterly juvenile
display will have any effect on your end-of-term exam, you are sorely mistaken.
You are without a doubt the most ingratiating, immature, incompetent—immmm—’
The rest of his insult was lost as Bill kissed him hard.
‘Okay,’ Bill said brightly when he broke the kiss. ‘It’s not Raines, then. It’s
the insulting. Well, and the…power.’ He wiggled around on Remus’s lap to
Remus’s alarm. ‘I simply have to get a hundred percent on our exam, Professor,’
he said in a pleading, teasing tone. ‘Isn’t there anything I can do to improve
my marks?’
Remus shook his head at Bill and was about to tell him to get up and quit
joking around, but the look in Bill’s eyes, so very serious, made Remus feel
weak. ‘I’m sure I can’t think of anything,’ he said slowly, using Raines’s
voice still. ‘Unless it’s that you get off me this instant.’
Bill jumped off Remus’s lap and stood in front of him, all innocence. ‘Surely
there’s something I can give you, sir, that will make you reconsider?’
Remus rose, aware of an uncomfortable tightness in his trousers. Bill was too
young to know what he was doing! He shouldn’t play along. And what about
Sirius? Kingsley was one thing – in fact, Kingsley had played right into
Remus’s hands – but Bill Weasley? Between Arthur Weasley’s family and Molly
Prewett’s, Bill was related to Remus distantly, but something like a second
cousin of Sirius’s. He couldn’t do this without at least checking with Sirius.
But Bill was relentless. Remus retreated to the chair behind the empty
teacher’s desk. ‘Please, Professor,’ Bill begged, stalking him around the desk.
‘I’ll do anything. Those marks mean everything to me.’
‘I…Weasley!’ Remus replied in a shocked tone. ‘I thought better of you. Trying
to influence your position in class through…personal favours?’
Bill waggled his eyebrows. ‘Sexual favours,’ he corrected. ‘I want you to teach
me how to please you, Professor. I know I’m not worthy, but…I know I can learn
from you. I’m your willing pet, if you want me.’
Remus closed his eyes, willing his erection down. It just wasn’t right that
someone so young could turn him on like this, without even knowing, it seemed,
how seductive he could be. And the twist of “playing” Raines was doing things
to Remus he never wanted to consider. He had spoken with McGonagall about being
a teacher one day, but he’d never considered the awkwardness of a student
finding him attractive. Though given McGonagall’s letter, he’d been thinking
about it in reverse….
‘You want full marks?’ Remus heard himself asking, breathing heavily.
Bill nodded with utmost solemnity.
‘Come here, then,’ Remus told him, beckoning with one hand.
Bill arranged himself on Remus’s lap in the big, swivelling chair. He draped
his legs on either side of Remus. He put his arms around Remus’s neck. ‘What
should I do?’ Bill asked his “teacher.”
‘Tell me the properties of a counter-curse,’ Remus invited him, and began to
kiss the younger boy’s neck.
‘Uh…’ Bill said, surprised by the kisses. ‘A c-counter-curse is…oh, that’s
nice…it’s a spell used to block, end, or negate a curse. They can be spells
that reverse the effects, such as—oh!’ he gasped when Remus nibbled his
earlobe.
‘Continue,’ Remus ordered. He put his hands on Bill’s back and pulled him
closer.
‘…Such as cancelling out a flaming hex with a freezing charm. Or they can be
spells that dispel the magic, like “Finite Incantatem.” Or…’ he paused when
Remus’s hand wandered to his arse and squeezed. ‘Or they can block, like a
shielding spell. And there’s a whole class of counter-curses that are targeted
specifically to undermine the curse itself, such as the Anti-Warts charm, which
is only effective when used directly against the Warts charm.’ He rushed
through the last example and ducked his head to kiss Remus on the mouth.
‘We’re not done with this lesson, Weasley,’ Remus warned him. ‘What are the
main factors common to curses and counter-curses?’ He lifted his hips, leaning
back in the chair.
‘Curses are influenced,’ Bill began to unbutton his robes, ‘by three common
factors: intention, caster’s natural power, and potency.’ He rocked back and
forth, rubbing their groins together. ‘These can affect the duration and
severity of the curse. Counter-curses therefore must also account for power,
potency, and intention.’ Bill opened his robes down to his waist and pulled
them off his shoulders, lifted up his jumper (it had a large B on it) and took
it off over his head. ‘Is that right, professor?’ he asked.
Remus whimpered. He was a pervert. He was breaking all kinds of rules, legal
and moral, by allowing Bill to continue. But then unbidden he thought of how it
had thrilled him to hear Sirius degrade him after the Snape incident, and how
sexy it had been. Maybe Bill just needed to feel a little dirty, sometimes,
too. He liked Bill. And looking at the immature, but somehow beautiful, torso,
he felt dirty, again, but in a whole different way. Just as thrilling, but even
more forbidden, than playing at it with Sirius. ‘That’s correct, Mr Weasley,’
he said in Raines’s grudging growl. ‘Now, list as many hexes, jinxes, and
curses as you can think of, and a counter-spell for each, and no pausing, or
I’ll take points.’ He sat up in the chair and rubbed a thumb over Bill’s right
nipple.
‘Jelly-legs, and dispel magic. Kicking curse, and the calming charm. Hurling
hex, shield spell. Babbling hex, and silencing charm.’ He gasped when Remus
touched his nipple with the tip of his tongue. ‘Tickling charm, and dispel
magic. Burning hex, freezing charm. Anti-aging and aging curses. As….ah-hah!
That tickles!’ He squirmed while Remus sucked on the red bulb of skin.
‘You paused,’ Remus told him. ‘You’ll never amount to anything with that lack
of concentration, Weasley.’
‘Sorry, professor,’ Bill panted. ‘I’m a bit…distracted today.’
‘Yes, you are,’ Remus said disapprovingly. ‘I wonder what we can do to un-
distract you.’
He bounced Bill on his lap, slapping their groins together through the fabric.
He longed to do more, Bill was practically begging for it, but he couldn’t
bring himself to violate the boy then and there. Besides, he reasoned with the
decreasing portion of his brain that could still reason, he still hadn’t
cleared this with Sirius. If he just stopped short of sex, it would be okay. He
could encourage Bill to find someone more his own age afterward. It would all
be okay.
He eased Bill’s robes up and unbuttoned them the rest of the way. ‘Weasley, you
are out of uniform,’ he said with a smirk. ‘What do you have to say for
yourself?’
‘Ungh,’ Bill said, bucking hard against Remus’s hips. ‘I’m…I’m in trouble?’
‘You certainly are. Well? What are you waiting for, Weasley? Touch yourself.’
‘I…I want you to….’
‘I said you’re in trouble. This is your punishment. In fact,’ Remus pushed up
with his toes against the floor and lifted Bill under his arms. ‘On the desk,’
he ordered. Bill backed up and off him, then sat on the large oak teacher’s
desk. ‘Now touch yourself.’
‘Yes, professor,’ Bill said obediently, but a bit disappointed. Remus plunged
his hand into his own trousers, unable to wait any longer. He came into his
hand within mere seconds. He hardly paid any attention to Bill while he
recovered and cleaned up with his wand, but when he looked up again, Bill had
laid down on the desk surface, sideways, and he had unbuttoned his jeans fly
for access. He played with his diminutive dick, fumbling for purchase, unable
to keep to his rhythm.
‘You have three minutes to complete your assignment, Weasley,’ Remus said to
hurry him along. Damn, he was going to be something else once he grew up a bit.
He was something else now, really. ‘Three minutes, you sorry excuse for a
Gryffindor. Do you think any of the other first-years are so far behind? Two
minutes, now. If you want to be an Auror, Weasley, you’ve got to learn to
perform under pressure. Well? Come on, Weasley! We haven’t got all day. Come—’
And he did. His ejaculation was as immature as the rest of him, but it shot
high and hot nonetheless. He looked at his hand in fascination.
‘Here,’ Remus held up his wand. ‘Evanesco.’ The evidence of their activity
disappeared. ‘Feel all right?’
‘I think I hit my head on the desk when I…when I….’
‘Came,’ Remus supplied. ‘It’s okay. Everyone does it.’
‘What, hits their head?’
‘No, everyone, er, well.’ He gestured to Bill’s tiny prick, receding back to
its foreskin. ‘Boys, anyway. I don’t know what girls do. But everyone brings
themselves off.’
‘Not pretending to be with a teacher, though, right?’ Bill asked. He rolled to
his side and sat up, legs swinging off the desk, a child once more.
‘Well, not always,’ Remus smiled. ‘Look. I think we’d better not do this again.
There are bound to be boys in your own class, or a bit older than you, and you
can play pretend games with them—’
‘But you’re so good at it!’ Bill protested.
‘Thanks, but it’s not right, Bill. And even if it were…I shouldn’t have done
that, because I’m already with someone else.’
‘Oh,’ Bill acknowledged, dejected. ‘I didn’t know.’
‘Well, I don’t advertise,’ Remus apologised. ‘I should have never let you
start.’
‘Are you angry?’ Bill looked like he might cry again.
‘No! Of course not,’ Remus explained. ‘But…well, I’m a prefect, and that’s
almost like being a teacher. And you’re just…so young. I hope you find someone,
Bill. Really.’
‘Yeah,’ Bill said noncommittally. ‘Well, I suppose we should go back to the
tower?’
‘I think that would be best. It’s late.’
They navigated the school in silence. Once they took a sudden turn to avoid the
Bloody Baron, and they had to re-route to get back on track because the
corridor turned into a dead-end at that time of night, but otherwise their
journey was quiet. As they approached the portrait of the Fat Lady, Remus
smiled. ‘If it means anything, I think you did actually made progress.’
‘Progress on what?’ Bill asked.
‘Well, you seem to have less of a crush on Raines, now,’ Remus laughed. ‘And
you definitely had no trouble performing under pressure.’
TBC….
***** In which pretending is sometimes real *****
‘I can’t believe you!’ Sirius yelled when Remus told him about Bill.
‘Sirius….’
‘It’s bad enough you’re going off with Gideon, and now Kingsley. But Weasley?’
his voice cracked on the name. ‘He’s a child!’
‘Sirius, I didn’t plan it!’ Remus protested. ‘And I…it’s not like I shagged
him. And it’s not like I ever will.’
Sirius crossed his arms and drew his knees up to his chest. ‘Can’t believe
you.’
‘I’m sorry,’ Remus repeated for what felt like the hundredth time. ‘That’s why
I’m telling you now.’
‘I can’t believe you did that…without me!’ Sirius grinned and pounced on top of
Remus. ‘Jeez. Bill smegging Weasley. I figured he was hot for you when he asked
you to tutor, Remus. Only you would be so thick as not to see it.’
‘Then you’re not actually angry?’ Remus confirmed, aghast.
‘Well…not really. I mean, you told him to find someone his own age, right?’
‘Yes.’
‘And you didn’t actually bugger him?’
‘No, of course not!’ Remus rolled his eyes. ‘He’s just a kid.’
‘Okay, then.’ Sirius chewed on Remus’s neck. ‘You’re still a perverse bastard.’
Remus punched him in the arm and Sirius went right on nibbling at him. ‘Now,
what’s this about Kingsley?’
 
They worked extra-hard on Thursday to make sure they’d be free on Friday night
for Peter’s planned shoot. Whenever possible, they had been adding wizarding
photos to their calendar, for increased stimulation and appeal. They had still
only worked through a bare minimum of kinks, though. James was worried.
‘Soon we’ll be done here and off working for Dumbledore full-time,’ he
complained as they set up for their night’s work. ‘And then none of us will
have this kind of leisure.’
‘We’ll have more, I think,’ Sirius said confidently. ‘No homework.’
‘Besides, there are certain kinks I refuse to try out,’ Lily said firmly.
‘Too right. Copraphilia, for example,’ Peter pointed out between tugging on the
four-poster beds to create their backdrop. ‘Who would want to do that?’
Remus, who knew that Sirius was curious about urination, anyway, but who
refused to try it himself, said nothing.
‘Yeah, and I don’t care what any of you say,’ Sirius announced. ‘I’m not going
to ask Reggie, just so we can explore incest.’
‘No kidding,’ Lily chimed in. ‘That goes double for me and Petunia.’
‘Well, we don’t need pictures for everything, I suppose,’ James said wistfully.
‘Besides, Lil, there are many things I love about your family. You sister is
not on that list.’
‘Good. Just so we’re clear.’
‘We’re clear.’
‘What are we doing tonight, Peter?’ Remus asked loudly to get things going.
‘Somnophilia and Menage-a-trois,’ Peter consulted his list. ‘I thought we’d
start with the easy one….’
‘Who gets to be asleep?’ Sirius asked, lounging on the bed.
‘You, since you’re there,’ Lily answered leeringly, ‘but remember, you have to
stay asleep no matter what we do to you.’
Sirius laughed and kicked off his shoes, stripped down to his shorts, and
settled under the sheets.
‘Pull the bedspread off. It’ll be identifiable,’ Remus cautioned.
‘Close your eyes, Sirius,’ James said.
‘Not that tight,’ Peter told him.
Lily climbed onto the bed. ‘Oh, what are we going to do about his face? You
have to see it to know he’s asleep.’
‘Mask,’ Remus said. ‘Just over the eyes, but with holes for them. Don’t want
anyone thinking he’s a Death Eater.’
‘Definitely not,’ Sirius said with his eyes still closed.
Lily conjured a mask as required and Sirius sat up to tie it around his head.
‘He looks like Zorro!’ Lily exclaimed, clapping her hands.
‘Yeah, a really poncy Zorro,’ quipped James. ‘Lie back down, come on, we
haven’t got all night.’
They repositioned themselves and Peter got the camera aimed. It took a long
time to shoot, because Sirius kept laughing in his “sleep”, or “waking up” to
surprise Lily.
‘Sirius, come on,’ James said. ‘If you can’t focus here, we’ll sub in Remus.’
‘Fine,’ Sirius said, sitting up and planting a kiss on Lily’s cheek. ‘But I bet
he’s no better at pretending to sleep than I am.’ He stripped off the mask and
handed it to Remus, then went to sulk on his bed. ‘And I warn you, I’m going to
heckle. We’ll see who’s better.’
Remus accepted the mask, and the challenge. ‘Be gentle, Lil,’ he told her as he
stabbed his legs into the rumpled sheets. He put his head down on the pillow
and took up a splayed position.
‘Nice,’ Peter commented. ‘Lil, get in the sheets with him. That’s it. Drape
your arm….’
Lily snuggled close as if they had been asleep, then propped herself on one
elbow. She obscured her face with her hair. Once the shutter began to click,
she pulled the sheet away, as far down as the waistband of Remus’s boxers. She
threw one leg over his hips and Remus turned onto his back.
‘Open your arms and relax them,’ Peter coached. Remus resembled a rather warped
crucifix.
‘No, too religious,’ James said. ‘One arm over your head?’ Remus complied.
‘Better.’
Remus took a deep breath and let it out in a sigh as Lily, back to the camera,
positioned herself to make it look like she was rubbing her clit over his
penis.
‘It’s too static,’ James said. ‘Let’s try something else.’
Lily shot a look back at James that suggested he was just being voyeuristic,
but she said, ‘Okay, Remus, sit up a bit. Prop yourself up on the pillows.
Sirius, give us your pillow.’
A pillow promptly hit Remus in the face.
‘You’ll pay for that, Black,’ he growled, not bothering to open his eyes. He
positioned the pillow behind his head.
‘Oh, give him a book. No, not a textbook, the other one,’ Lily said, pointing
at the copy of The Golden Bough. ‘That would put anyone to sleep. Remus, open
it up and then let it fall half out of your hand, like you’ve been reading.’
‘I get it,’ Remus agreed. He opened his eyes, flipped to a spot about halfway
through the book, and then let it slide off his lap, thumb holding the place.
‘Yep. Loll your head to one side,’ Lily instructed.
‘Peter, there’s a glass of water on the bedside table,’ Sirius suggested. ‘Give
him a dribble of drool.’
‘Bugger off, Sirius,’ Remus said.
‘Can’t, thanks, not until you’re through.’
‘Ladies,’ James warned. ‘Okay, so our victim has fallen asleep over his book.
Now what?’
‘Just take the pictures, Peter,’ Lily said. She stood over Remus, one foot on
either side of his legs. ‘Have you got a shot?’ she asked.
‘Yeah. Brilliant framing,’ Peter told her. His eyes boggled a bit as he
adjusted the lens. Lily sank to her knees and took the book out of Remus’s limp
hand. She shut it on the bookmark, then tipped it and used the bookmark to
trace little patterns on Remus’s skin. Remus tensed.
‘You can’t tense up; it’ll show on the film,’ Peter admonished.
‘Sorry,’ Remus muttered. ‘Keep going.’
Lily put the closed book on his chest and slid alongside him. She turned him on
his side with his head still facing the camera. She wrapped her arm and one leg
around him, reaching down inside the sheet quite indicatively.
‘Need a blow shot,’ James said suddenly. Remus sat up a bit, worked his shorts
off, and dropped them off the side of the bed. Lily folded the sheets down
around his knees, then sat with her legs to the side, leaning onto his thighs.
‘How’s this?’ she asked. Her breath felt hot and cold against his pubic hair.
‘Good. Close your eyes, Remus.’
‘Move back and forth, Lil, for the camera,’ James told her. Lily rocked forward
and back while the shutter captured shot after shot. She repositioned her lower
arm so that, instead of pinning it against Remus’s hip, she placed it between
his legs. Her rocking brought her chin almost into contact with his prick, then
away, then almost touching again. Remus could feel her motion and her breath on
his balls.
‘That enough?’ Lily asked.
‘Yeah,’ James told her. ‘Let’s let the boys kiss and make up.’
 
They moved on to ménage-a-trois, bringing Sirius back in. This was mostly a
series of tasteful upper-body shots, Lily standing between them, all topless,
facing one and with her back to the other. They took a few simulated shots as
well, positioned strategically. By then, James was champing at the bit to get
Lily alone, and Remus and Sirius seemed to understand, without even saying it,
that they would invite Peter to their bed that night.
Hours later, Peter woke next to Remus. He glanced over at the next bed and saw
Sirius sleeping alone, arms and legs flung all over the edges. Remus snored
lightly next to Peter. Moonlight from the window bathed his face and turned his
brownish hair silver. He murmured something and turned over, clutching Peter as
he settled on his side.
Peter knew that this couldn’t last. He allowed himself to hope, sometimes, that
he, Remus, Sirius, James, and Lily, might always be like this, might always
have a sometime something, but deep down, he knew differently. At least he was
picking up a few tricks, and he resolved to enjoy every single good moment
while it lasted.
But on nights like this, it was so comforting to feel another person next to
him. Peter had always idolised James, but knew better than to look for
reciprocation there. Next to him, though, Peter loved Remus. He loved Sirius,
too, but not quite in the same way. Sirius was a brother, a co-conspirator, a
protector. Remus treated him like an equal.
Peter smoothed Remus’s hair away from his forehead gently. Werewolves were
usually either asleep, or awake, with no in-between, half-sleepy drowsing
except immediately after a full moon. He didn’t want to wake Remus, only admire
him.
Remus muttered again, punched out with his left hand, and then lay still. Peter
shushed him carefully and smoothed his hair again. After seven years, they all
knew that nightmares were not uncommon for Remus. Peter stroked the length of
Remus’s arm, trying to soothe him. Remus whimpered softly and turned again,
pressing his back into Peter.
‘Shh,’ Peter whispered. He petted him all over, over his arms, his back, his
chest. He brushed over Remus’s pubic hair and froze. Remus shifted his leg and
leaned into Peter’s hand. Peter rubbed tiny circles with his fingertips. Remus
sighed. He canted his hips toward Peter’s movements. Peter dropped a kiss onto
Remus’s shoulder and touched Remus’s balls tentatively. Remus’s cock sprang to
life, but he did not wake. Peter pressed his own hardness between the cheeks of
Remus’s arse but held his hips still. He cupped Remus’s balls and kissed his
back again. His hand slid up Remus’s shaft, pumping it. Remus worked his hips
in his sleep and the motion made his arse buck up and down along Peter’s cock.
Peter pulled Remus closer, opening his legs just a bit to push himself further
into Remus’s crack. He matched Remus’s rhythm, kissing his shoulder and arm
where he could reach them. He slid his lower arm between Remus’s neck and the
mattress, flattened his hand over Remus’s breast. Remus still did not wake.
Peter humped and pumped until he reached orgasm, then resumed until he brought
Remus off as well. He buried his face in Remus’s hair. Remus took a deep breath
in, and the next moment, Peter could tell he was awake.
‘Did I have a dream?’ he asked in a high-pitched, quiet voice. He cleared his
throat. ‘Sirius?’
‘It was a good dream,’ Peter told him. ‘Go back to sleep.’
TBC....
***** In which Remus takes a chance *****
Chapter Summary
     Madam Toussaud’s Got Nothing on Him
Remus’s stomach began to turn itself into knots about mid-afternoon on
Saturday. He kept counting down the hours until his appointment with Kingsley
Shacklebolt. The letter had been vividly graphic and just a touch on the
dangerous side, but it piqued Remus’s curiosity in the abstract. Now that the
reality closed in, he felt just a bit apprehensive. Kingsley was a loose
cannon, even for a Slytherin.
By four o’clock, Remus was so nervous that he shut his books and didn’t even
try to get more work done. He almost skipped supper, but Peter convinced him
that he’d be better equipped to handle Kingsley with a little something to keep
him going. He didn’t even really know what spooked him so much; he could
probably match Shacklebolt for strength, and he was probably faster, too. But
Kingsley was crafty, and he was clever, and while Remus was fairly sure Snape
had not told anyone about his lycanthropy, if anyone could work it out, it
would be Shacklebolt. Once he saw Remus’s scar, he would almost certainly know.
And he was under no compulsion from Dumbledore to hide what he might know.
Remus was also a bit nervous, he realised at supper, because he had no idea
whether Kingsley would try the things in his fantasy. He didn’t know whether he
wanted him to try or not, either. Clearly, the tall, dark Slytherin was
desirable in his own right. Few students looked as good as he did, on or off
the Quidditch pitch, and he never had to look far for someone to share his
nights. But the detail with which he laid out his plans for Remus, and those
plans themselves, made Remus shiver with fear and anticipation. It was entirely
new territory, and Remus didn’t know if he’d like it or not.
Remus ducked out of the meal a few minutes before everyone else, having eaten
sparsely. ‘I know,’ he told Sirius, ‘I’m being ridiculous. But I need some
air.’ Sirius shrugged, but before Remus left, he pressed a coin into Remus’s
hand with a knowing look. Remus smiled. It was an “emergency signal” they had
devised for one another long ago. If any one of them needed a distraction, he
could signal the others by flipping the coin. It was a reminder that his
friends could still help him if he wound up needing it. So Sirius was worried,
too, he thought as he squeezed his lover’s arm before leaving.
He crossed the entrance hall quickly and left through the main door. It was
cold, but Remus could ignore the cold for short periods of time. He took an
abbreviated turn down to the lake and back. It was just long enough for his
cheeks to turn bright red and his feet to start feeling a little numb. He
really was just being stupid, he decided. Shacklebolt would never do anything
that might jeopardise his career, including intentionally harm another student,
even a werewolf. Encouraged, he opened the door and passed back into the
drafty, but comparatively warm, entrance hall, just in time to see half the
school come through on their way out of supper.
Kingsley Shacklebolt leaned against a column on the far side of the hall, near
the staircase that led to Potions and the Slytherin dungeons. He had one foot
balanced on the column, his arms were crossed, and he was chewing on the stick
from a Honeyduke’s HoneyCone. He wore tight jeans and a collared, knit shirt
under a green cable-knit jumper, no robes. He watched the younger students
stream up the stairs or down to the dungeons with calculated disinterest.
Rosier said a few words to him, but Shacklebolt merely shook his head and
shrugged. Rosier continued down the stairs. Then Kingsley’s head swivelled
toward the front door. He saw Remus, cheeks flushed and hair dishevelled from
the wind, and he smiled.
Remus was not at all sure about that smile.
He crossed the entrance hall, trailing behind the last few straggling students.
The other Marauders, he was glad to see, were nowhere in sight. As he came
within polite distance of the sixth-year, he stopped. ‘Well, I’m here,’ he said
unnecessarily.
‘So I see. Did you bring your cloak?’
‘Are we going outside?’ Remus asked.
‘We might,’ Kingsley answered cryptically.
‘Well, I’ve just been. It’s windy, but unless you mean to stay out, it’s not
too bad,’ Remus hedged. Why all the secrecy? He decided that perhaps Kingsley
just wanted to put him off-balance.
‘Would you rather stay in?’ he asked.
Remus was taken aback. Ordinarily, Shacklebolt liked to be the one in charge,
something that according to rumour fuelled the mutual dislike between himself
and his house-mate, Snape. ‘I gathered from our conversation the other night
that you had specific plans,’ he said instead. He didn’t really want Kingsley
to know that he knew what Kingsley supposedly wanted.
‘I do,’ Shacklebolt told him, swinging his bag onto his shoulder. ‘But they’re
not confined to one place. I know somewhere we can go inside the castle, if you
prefer.’
‘Okay,’ Remus told him. Kingsley held out his arm to invite Remus up the wide
staircase, and Remus climbed.
Shacklebolt led him through several corridors and up numerous staircases before
Remus realised where they had to be headed. There was a tunnel behind a
portrait of Linus van Peltham that led to a small conservatory about midway up
one of the towers. The Marauders had found it in their third year. They didn’t
think Filch knew about it, but they didn’t know who else might, so they had
never chanced using it for anything important.
‘Ever been in here?’ Kingsley asked as he moved the portrait aside.
‘Once or twice,’ Remus admitted. There was no sense lying. If Kingsley were
trying to impress, he’d have to work harder. No one knew more about the castle
than the Marauders, Remus was sure.
‘I use this room from time to time,’ the black boy explained as they picked
their way through the dark tunnel, lit only by their wand tips. ‘I don’t think
any of the teachers know about it, nor Filch. The house-elves clean it, but
they’re never any trouble.’
‘No, they never are,’ Remus agreed, making conversation. ‘Have you ever been to
the kitchens?’
‘Yeah, a few times,’ Kingsley told him. ‘I don’t like them in numbers, though,’
he went on darkly. ‘Creepy.’
‘Not as creepy as—’ Remus began, then cut himself off. They walked in silence
for a few more steps, then entered the little room.
It was cosy, with a low fainting couch and many kneeling cushions, an ancient
spinet and moulding stacks of music. Kingsley slung his bag onto the top of the
instrument and pulled out several candelabras of various sizes and a quantity
of candles to go in them. He also extracted a bootleg Wireless machine, which
he flipped on and fiddled with the dials before finding a station he liked.
‘Get WWN at home?’
‘Yes,’ Remus answered. ‘Never bother here, though.’
Kingsley arranged the candlesticks and lit the candles with his wand. The light
flickered over their faces in alternating bright and shadow. The flames also
heated the room up nicely, for there was no fireplace.
‘Have a seat,’ Kingsley invited him, taking up a post on the chaise. It forced
Remus to either sit next to him on the chaise or on a cushion by his feet. If
he sat at the same level, he would have no backrest; if he took the floor and
used the chaise for his back, he would make himself Kingsley’s pet. He chose
the couch.
‘We’re not all scum, you know,’ Kingsley said a few minutes later, into the
silence. ‘Slytherins.’
‘I never said you were,’ Remus said honestly.
‘Because your friends say it enough for you,’ Kingsley replied calmly. He
didn’t sound angry or defensive, merely stating it as fact.
‘Well, they do rather use Snape as a definitive,’ Remus smirked.
‘Snape’s…let’s not talk about Snape,’ Shacklebolt said. They fell into silence
again. ‘So, you and Sirius,’ he said after a bit. ‘That really, er, serious?’
‘Yes,’ Remus said. ‘But not wholly exclusive,’ he added. The last thing he
needed was for Kingsley to decide he had more blackmail material.
‘He knows you’re with me, in other words?’
‘Yes.’
Kingsley grunted an acknowledgement. Remus thought he might have been
disappointed, but it was hard to tell from the monosyllable.
‘Did your plan involve doing anything, or—’ Remus started, but he was cut off
mid-sentence when Kingsley leaned over and kissed him. Enthusiastically. Remus
opened his mouth and their tongues slid together, exploring each other’s teeth
and lips. Remus turned for a better angle, found himself on his knees on the
chaise, tipping Kingsley back toward the back rest. His hands were on
Kingsley’s chest, holding him down. His flesh felt hot and thick, and he forgot
his apprehension of earlier that day.
Kingsley peeled off his clothes between kisses. If Remus’s reaction surprised
him, he took it in stride. He pulled off his jumper and the collared shirt
underneath it, revealing a chest like polished mahogany and a pierced nipple to
match his pierced ear. His muscles were far too defined and developed to have
been acquired merely as a Beater. He leaned his bare back on the chaise,
luxuriating, it seemed, in the way his skin reflected the candlelight.
Remus leaned back to get a good look. He swiped his palm over Kingley’s
unpierced breast, then smiled as Kingsley caught his wrist and pushed his hand
onto the pierced one. ‘Tug on it,’ he suggested. Remus hooked a finger into the
ring and crooked it up. The whole nipple strained and Kingsley moaned
appreciatively. Remus leaned in and teased the nipple with his tongue through
the ring.
‘So good,’ Kingsley whispered. ‘You like this?’ he asked, plumping his nipple
with his finger and thumb. ‘Bet you’d like to see me naked, hm?’
‘You’d be right,’ Remus told him, grinning. He backed away so that Kingsley
could take off his very tight jeans. He shed his boots and then unbuttoned the
jeans fly slowly, then slid them down his dark thighs to step out of them
completely. He was wearing only a thong underneath, but he left it on and
turned in the light. The string back stretched taut between his buttocks.
McGonagall would have approved of his tight arse, Remus thought suddenly, and
suppressed a laugh.
‘Something funny?’ Kingsley asked, turning back around.
‘No—well, yes, but not about you,’ Remus admitted. He offered his hand to bring
Kingsley back to the fainting couch.
Kingsley sat, straddling Remus, and opened his arms. ‘Come back down here and
get me hard again,’ he said. Remus leaned forward and teased Kingsley’s dark
flesh with his tongue. Kingsley’s arms closed around his head and began to push
down toward his crotch. Remus went willingly, but pulled up short at the g-
string pouch. Instead, he licked his way to one side and back up Kingsley’s
lats to his arm. Kingsley hummed in pleasure, but pressed down again.
‘Eager, aren’t you?’ Remus asked. He twisted his head away and went in with his
hand instead. ‘Not just yet,’ he teased. ‘All in good time.’
Kingsley snorted and sat up. He put his hand over Remus’s and brought it to his
lips. ‘Suck me now, Lupin,’ he demanded, forcing Remus onto the cushions next
to the chaise, ‘If you want anything else, suck.’
Remus pulled away with ease, which he knew surprised Kingsley, but he didn’t
care. ‘I’m not here to be dominated,’ he said strongly, finished playing. ‘You
asked me, remember? I can leave now, but I don’t think you want me to do that,
and you know as well as I do that your threats have no teeth. So it’s up to
you, Shacklebolt. We can have a bit of fun as equals, or you can go find
someone else to bully into stupid power games.’
Kingsley said nothing for a moment, sizing up Remus’s sincerity. ‘I really
think you mean that,’ he concluded. ‘Okay. There’ll be time for that later,
then. For now, get one of the candles,’ he said, inclining his head toward the
cluster, ‘and bring it closer.’ Remus fetched one of the taller candlesticks,
ones that had obviously been shrunk to fit into Kingsley’s bag. ‘Are you cold?’
Kingsley asked him as he fulfilled the request.
‘No,’ Remus told him truthfully.
‘Then would you show me your body?’ Kingsley asked. Politely, Remus noted.
Remus straightened. He pulled off his robes, revealing a pair of worn corduroy
slacks and a jumper with holes in the elbows over a striped button-down shirt.
He pulled off the jumper. ‘I don’t have anything to show you that’s quite as
interesting as you do,’ he warned Kingsley.
‘Don’t stop,’ was all Kingsley said.
Remus unbuttoned his shirt and turned away when he pulled off the sleeves. He
folded it fastidiously and set it on top of his robes and jumper, on a cushion
to one side so they’d be off the floor. Then he shucked his shoes and stood
barefoot on the musty floor. He came back to the chaise, still in his trousers.
‘You stopped,’ Kingsley whined.
‘For now,’ Remus told him. ‘See if you like this first,’ he continued. He knelt
on the seat between Kingsley’s knees. Kingsley reached for the candle and
lifted it out of its holder. He held the candle between their bodies, letting
the flickering light glow against their skin. He lifted the candle to Remus’s
scar.
‘What’s this?’ he asked, bringing the flame close enough that Remus could feel
the heat, but just short of burning him.
‘Accident,’ Remus said shortly. ‘Dog bite,’ he provided his usual explanation.
‘Big dog,’ Kingsley said with raised eyebrows, but otherwise did not challenge
it. A small droplet of wax poured off the top of the candle and landed on
Remus’s arm. He hissed. ‘Did I burn you?’ Kingsley asked, snatching the candle
away.
‘It’s not bad.’ Remus shook his head. He pulled at the coagulating wax. ‘Gets
caught in the hair, though, ouch.’
‘Yeah, it can,’ Kingsley commented strangely. He seemed to want to say
something, but hesitated.
Remus remembered in time that he was not to know Kingsley’s predilections.
‘It’s okay,’ he said with a smile. ‘Just…we should probably be more careful
with the flames, eh?’
‘Careful, yes.’ He set the candle back on its pedestal. ‘Give me your arm,’ he
said. He grasped Remus’s arm where the wax had left a faint red weal on the
inside of his elbow. Kingsley lifted his arm and sucked gently on the welt.
Remus shuddered. Kingsley was talented. But before he thought of something to
say, Kingsley had yanked on his arm to bring his scarred shoulder forward, and
he was licking the bunched, pale skin with a broad, flat tongue. Remus braced
himself against the backrest of the chair while Kingsley worked his way from
shoulder to nipple slowly.
‘I like what I see,’ Kingsley rumbled once he had raised both Remus’s nipples
to pertness. ‘How about the rest, then?’
Remus’s breath caught, but he rose and unzipped his trousers. He folded them
and added them to the pile of his clothes, aware that Kingsley had stood and
was moving around the room. The WWN continued its tinny serenade in the
background. He felt Kingsley behind him a split-second before the other boy
snapped his waistband against his back. ‘Those too, love,’ he ordered. ‘And
then go have a lie down.’
Remus swallowed. Here was the test. He thought he knew what might be Kingsley’s
next move. But he was here because he wanted to try it, and Kingsley was
certainly proving to be as sensual as he appeared, and so far, they had done
nothing that made Remus too uncomfortable. Biting his lip, he slipped the
shorts down to his ankles and placed them over the top of his other clothes. He
returned to the chaise and draped himself on it artfully, one leg bent under
himself.
Kingsley stood by the standing candle, one hand hovering over the flame. ‘Damn,
Lupin,’ he assessed as Remus took his seat. ‘You know, you ever want to tell
Black where he can get off, I’ll be first in line to get what he’s got.’
‘Not first, Shacklebolt,’ Remus shot back, a little more harshly than he
intended. ‘I mean, I know at least a few others who’d claim that right.’
‘Potter?’ Shacklebolt guessed. ‘Surely not Pettigrew?’
‘Did I mention names?’ Remus asked blandly. ‘Anyway, thank you.’
Kingsley growled, but smiled ferally. ‘You’re welcome. Now, as I was saying….’
He took up Remus’s previous position, looming over the pale young man. He held
his hands bare centimetres from Remus’s skin, brushing over him with his body
heat more than his pores. ‘You’re nice and warm,’ he observed. His hand paused
over Remus’s erection. ‘Except here. Hot. For me, Lupin?’
‘Yes,’ Remus breathed.
Kingsley hummed approvingly. He leaned forward and parted Remus’s lips with his
own in a soft kiss. ‘Look at me,’ he commanded, and Remus locked eyes with the
other. Kingsley took down the candle again and extended the index finger of his
other hand. Slowly, carefully, he reached into the pooling liquid by the wick
and brought his finger away, coated in cooling wax. He peeled the wax away
quickly before it hardened, then held his finger to Remus’s lips. Remus opened
his mouth. Kingsley pushed his finger in, and Remus sucked it down as Kingsley
pulled against him.
Kingsley’s eyes clouded with contentment. He repeated the process, and Remus
sucked his finger cool again. This seemed to signify something for Kingsley,
because he tipped the candle and dripped hot wax onto his breast. Remus sat up,
wiped it away, and leaned forward to lick and suck the heated flesh. They
repeated the action for his other breast, except that Remus slid his lips down
from the burnt spot to the nipple ring, pulling with his tongue. Kingsley
clamped his hand in Remus’s hair and pulled his head up for a demanding,
searching kiss. He released his head only to push him back against the chaise.
He put the candle back and selected another one with more wax pooled at its
top. He tipped it carefully over Remus’s chest, shushing him when he hissed
from the melted wax hitting him. Kingsley leaned over, not wiping the wax away,
and chewed it off him.
He spat the wax on the floor and picked up the candle again. He dribbled wax in
a line down Remus’s torso, stopping just short of the head of his cock. ‘Does
this hurt?’ he asked in a breathy, hoarse voice.
‘Not…not that much,’ Remus admitted. Kingsley drew little circles and patterns
in the hardening wax, then once again cleaned Remus’s skin in a series of tiny
bites, followed by laving swipes of his tongue.
His cheek brushed Remus’s erection and Remus gasped with pleasure. Kingsley
kissed the hairy underside around the base and then worked his shaft once or
twice with his hand. ‘Patience, love, patience. Just hold that thought,’ he
intoned in his deep bass.
They continued for another half-hour, Kingsley delicately tracing patterns in
the wax and alternately licking, wiping, scratching them away from Remus’s
flesh, back and front, but avoiding his cock. When he was pink all over with
the tiny welts, Kingsley took up the smaller candle again. He held it in front
of Remus’s eye. ‘Do you trust me?’ he asked.
‘Can I?’ Remus asked softly.
‘Hold still,’ Kingsley answered, unconcerned with Remus’s doubt, and lowered
the candle slowly toward Remus’s cock. A small amount of wax dribbled down the
candle, but Kingsley did not let it drip onto the tender flesh below. Instead,
he brought the flame closer and closer, until its heat singed Remus’s pubic
hair. He gasped and his breath sped up, but he forced himself to hold himself
frozen, seeing that if he moved a muscle, he really would burn himself on the
flame. The candle flame came close enough to sear just from its heat. His hair
curled in on itself, drying up under the onslaught of fire. Kingsley tipped the
candle, finally, and wax poured into the limp stretch of sac-skin, between his
balls.
‘Ah!’ Remus shouted, and his cock twitched of its own accord.
‘Shh,’ Kingsley said, licking the wax away. ‘Feel it?’
‘Oh…yes,’ Remus closed his eyes.
‘No. Look at me,’ Kingsley ordered. His eyes fluttered open.
‘Kingsley…’ he pleaded.
‘Not yet,’ Shacklebolt said coldly. He blew cool air onto Remus’s sac. ‘I’m
going to make you come just from doing this,’ he announced, and brought the
candle back in range.
It took three more applications to Remus’s balls and shaft to make good on
Kingsley’s promise. Remus reached for himself, but Kingsley slapped his hands
away, and Remus came, his spunk shooting straight into the air like a geyser.
Most of it fell onto his chest and stomach, but a fair amount hit Kingsley in
the face where he held himself over Remus’s body. Kingsley scraped his face
clean, then sucked his fingers. ‘Mm…’ he moaned as he licked his hand, and then
he leaned over and licked up Remus’s wet stomach.
Remus sat up bonelessly and pressed his face to Kingsley’s chest. ‘Should I…?’
he asked, but Kingsley pushed him away.
‘No,’ he answered, standing up and coaxing Remus out of his reclined pose. ‘I
want you to do me,’ he said.
Remus looked at him in surprise. ‘I’m afraid I’ll botch it,’ he admitted.
‘You shan’t,’ Kingsley assured him. ‘And I don’t care if you do, anyway.’
TBC….
***** In which Remus is in a tight spot *****
Chapter Summary
     Mortal Coils
Remus woke early Sunday morning to find that almost all the candles had
guttered. Two lone stubs and an arrow slit high in the ceiling of the turret
room were the only light. Kingsley was sprawled on the magically-widened chaise
in a mess of conjured blankets. His perfectly rounded arse cheek poked out of
an edge of blanket. Remus tumbled out of the bed and found his wand. ‘Lumos, he
whispered, and his wand tip lit up brightly. He came back to the bed and lifted
the covers to slide back in, for warmth. He paused to admire Kingsley. Muscles
weren’t the only thing about him that were massive. Remus wasn’t sure how the
tiny thong had contained him.
Kingsley shifted in the suddenly cold air. Remus climbed back in next to him,
and he draped himself over Remus’s slighter form. Remus summoned his clothes a
little closer and brought them into the bed to warm them up.
‘Hey,’ he whispered gently to Kingsley, who was still half-asleep.
‘Hm,’ Kingsley grunted back shyly.
‘I’m gonna go,’ Remus said. He reached down inside the covers for his underwear
and slid down to put them on.
‘Nn,’ Kingsley protested, trapping Remus in his legs and arms. ‘Caught you.’
Remus laughed softly. ‘No, I’m going to go,’ he said more definitely. ‘Don’t
sleep too much longer; the candles are almost out.
‘Th…window.’ Kingsley pointed up vaguely, head still buried against Remus’s
shoulder. ‘Don’t go yet.’
‘I should,’ he said.
‘Why?’
Because I love Sirius and I don’t dare stay, he thought. ‘Because it’s time to
go,’ Remus said aloud. His voice echoed in the chamber from his unintentional
volume. He pulled his trousers on, still inside the bed. Kingsley grabbed him
again; he kissed the other boy a few times on neck and face and full lips
before rescuing his shirt and jumper from their warming spot and sliding out of
the bed. ‘No, I have to go,’ he insisted when Kingsley followed him across the
bed.
‘Want to get together again?’ Kingsley asked. He seemed to expect the answer
from his dejected tone.
‘Er, maybe,’ Remus said with a shrug, easing the hem of his jumper over his
waist. ‘I wouldn’t object,’ he explained. ‘But I don’t know.’
Kingsley said nothing. Remus thought he might have fallen asleep again. He
folded his robes and shirt under his arm and escaped through the passageway.
‘I love Sirius,’ he reminded himself as he followed the light of his wand tip
out to the corridor.
He pushed open the portrait from the back and immediately felt cold along his
hands and arms.
‘Bugger off!’ came an angry whisper from the corridor. Remus jumped backward
and the portrait slammed closed.
Remus pushed the portrait open again, more tentatively. Again, he had barely
opened the portrait a crack when his fingers felt icy cold.
‘I said: Bugger! Off!’ the hoarse, wispy voice barked. Remus backed away from
the portrait just in time: a greyish, silver spectre floated through the wall
at him. ‘The hell do you want, half-breed?’
Remus suppressed a groan. The apparition had dark silver stains all the way
down his robes. Half his legs were stuck in the rock wall of the passage. He
wore an ancient-looking sword belt, but carried no sword. His gaunt face and
luminous eyes burned with fury. ‘Piss off! What are you doing here, anyway?
It’s rude to just barge through a person without so much as a by-your-leave.’
‘Baron,’ Remus choked, trying to avoid touching the ethereal substance in the
tight tunnel. ‘I’m sorry – I didn’t see you.’
‘Course you didn’t, you daft prat! I’m a ghost!’
‘Yes, of course,’ Remus agreed. He edged toward the portrait. ‘Well, I didn’t
mean to disturb. I’ll just be—’
‘Wait!’ the Baron roared. ‘What were you doing back in there?’
‘Oh, er,’ Remus stammered, glancing back at the passageway. ‘I was
just…exploring a bit.’
‘Exploring my eye,’ the Baron scoffed. He popped his eye out and held it to
Remus’s crotch. ‘You were getting your nuts off, weren’t you?’
‘Er…no, I was sleeping. There’s a room back there—’
‘Course there’s a room there. It was mine. What were you doing in it?’
‘Yours?’ Remus asked with true astonishment. ‘I had no idea. Well, as I said, I
fell asleep.’
The Bloody Baron put his eye back into his head. ‘Liar,’ he assessed, but he
didn’t seem as angry as he had been. ‘If I were your age, and alive, I’d be
shagging anything could hold still long enough.’ He floated into the tunnel,
barring the way out from Remus. ‘I remember shagging,’ he sighed. ‘You lot
don’t know how good you’ve got it ‘til you’ve snuffed it.’ His tone grew
sharper again. ‘Anyway, I don’t like people looking at my things.’
‘I didn’t know—’
‘And especially half-breeds like you.’
Remus bristled. ‘Fine. If you’ll just let me past, I’ll stop troubling you.’
‘Go on then,’ the Baron challenged. ‘Go. What’s stopping you?’
‘You said it’s impolite to walk through ghosts, and I agree with you.’
‘Without permission.’ His lips curled in a cruel smile. ‘I give you
permission.’
Remus frowned. He didn’t want to walk through the spirit, but he didn’t want to
hang about in a dark, damp tunnel, either. And everyone knew that the worst
thing in the world to do was back down before the Bloody Baron. He squared his
shoulders. Bracing himself for the momentary sensation of freezing, he broke
for the portrait door.
It was like swimming through ice, he thought. His limbs felt too frozen to
move. Too late, he realised his mistake. He should have seen that the Baron
planned a trap.
‘I can feel!’ he heard himself cackle. His limbs moved awkwardly, like they
belonged to someone who had not used them for a long time. They weren’t the
only part of him that had become stiff, either.
The Baron moved his hands in a slow-motion sort of dance. He felt his icy
fingers dip into his trousers. His hand closed around his frozen, stiffened
prick. He let out a gasp that was not his. His other hand fondled his nipples,
pinching them.
‘Ah,’ the Baron’s voice escaped Remus’s lips. ‘God, yes. Haven’t had a proper
wank in over fifty years. Only thing better would be a blow, but I don’t
suppose I’ll ever feel that again.’
Remus tried to fight, but the Baron reinforced his hold over the student’s
body. ‘Shut up, werewolf. As if you have any right to this pleasure. You should
be thanking me. Must have been daft to think you were back there with anyone.
Who in their right mind would fuck a werewolf?’
‘Shh,’ Remus managed to hiss out on his own.
‘Why? Is it a secret?’ All the while, the Baron worked Remus’s flesh in a
frenzy. Remus began to worry that the Baron might pull his cock right off if he
kept up his crude ministration. The cold that at first was ice was seeping into
numbness, which wasn’t quite so bad, but he could no longer tell where anything
was. He couldn’t tell if he were still standing, leaning against the wall, or
down on his knees. He could not feel his fingers anymore, nor his feet. He
couldn’t hear his heart beating, couldn’t smell Kingsley or the musty dirt of
the tunnel floor. It didn’t hurt, didn’t really feel like anything.
Weightlessness, perhaps. But if he looked down, he could see his hands stroking
his dick relentlessly, and that sight at least brought with it the surety that
he was still alive.
‘Come on, come on,’ the Baron was muttering, and Remus realised he was not
talking to Remus, or rather, not to all of Remus. He was talking solely to
Remus’s prick.
‘That’s never going to work, you know,’ Remus tried to say, and found that he
no longer had control of his jaw. But he thought it, and the Baron apparently
heard him nonetheless.
‘What do you suggest, butter? Lube? I haven’t got all day. It’s not like they’d
work any better.’
‘I can’t feel anything like this. Look, stop possessing me, and I’ll figure out
a way to do it so we can both feel.’
The Baron’s grip stilled in Remus’s hand. ‘I don’t believe you,’ he said
slowly.
‘Is this working for you?’ Remus asked.
‘No.’
‘Well, then. Try something else,’ Remus reasoned.
The Baron shifted forward, and suddenly Remus’s body flooded with warmth and
feeling again. Pins and needles attacked every pore of his body, as if every
part of him had gone to sleep and was suddenly able to circulate blood again.
He’d felt this kind of all-over itch before: in the week it took after his
werewolf bite to adjust to the changes in his blood. That feeling had been
horrible, a thousand fire ants crawling over every inch of flesh, underneath
the skin. This was merely an annoyance and an unpleasant memory.
‘Right,’ he said, shaking his hands to get the feeling back in them. ‘You can’t
touch me, and I can’t have you put your hand inside mine without losing
feeling.’ And Kingsley’s going to come find out what’s going on any minute, he
thought desperately. ‘Can we go out someplace where there’s more light? The
classroom, maybe?’
‘Here,’ the Baron insisted. ‘Not having any of the others see me relying on a
bloody lycanthrope for my jollies.’
‘Er, okay,’ Remus conceded. ‘Why don’t you try it with other ghosts?’ he asked
innocently.
The Baron levelled a blood-curdling sneer at him. ‘Because sonny, it doesn’t
work like that, either.’ He muttered on, as he came closer and closer to
Remus’s face. ‘Anyway, who would you have me fuck? The Grey Lady in her
Virginal Purity? That horrid Myrtle child? Think the Fat Friar’s all that
attractive, do you? And even if Mimsey-Porpington’s a sodding fairy, I wouldn’t
let that skin-graft of a Gryffindor near my jewels for all the gold in
Christendom!’
Remus gulped. When the Baron was in a mood, like this, he could understand how
he could control even Peeves. ‘Well, I was just trying to help,’ he said by way
of apology. ‘I’m not trying to…to scarper off,’ he continued in a placating
tone. ‘Er. I think maybe if…if you just put your hand near mine…’ he thought
aloud. The Baron stretched his hand and hovered bare millimetres away from
where Remus worked his head with thumb and forefinger.
‘No,’ the Baron announced a few seconds later, and Remus had to agree with him,
though he really wanted to simply be done with it. The Baron plunged his hand
between Remus’s legs. Remus wanted to scream from the abrupt cold, but seconds
later, he began to tremble for another reason entirely. The Baron raised his
hand to Remus’s free wrist and Remus felt it floating forward toward the
Baron’s codpiece. Remus’s wand fell to the ground, but still shed cold white
light that made the Baron’s shape glow in the darkness. Into that glowing
essence when his hand. It closed around thin, cold air, but somehow he knew the
heat he put out was positioned strategically.
‘Yes,’ the Baron encouraged him. ‘Yes. Now touch yourself,’ he ordered, and
Remus pumped both hands for all he was worth. ‘I can’t keep this up for long,
boy – Don’t make such long strokes – Yes! That’s it…fill me with your living
warmth….’ The Baron writhed in mid-air. Remus clenched his fingers in an O and
held them practically still, allowing the Baron to float inside their circle
again and again and again. He continued to squeeze his own cock, praying that
ghosts could still come and that he could escape before Kingsley blundered upon
them.
After what seemed like an age, Remus felt the spasm deep in his glands and he
spurted into the air. A few drops of hot liquid seared through the translucent
form of the Baron. This heat, combined with his motion against Remus’s hand,
finally did the trick. His semen shot out in a pearly-white and silver stream
that landed cold and then melted like snowflakes wherever it landed.
Remus’s hand was red and felt like ice when he clutched it to his chest for
warmth. He sank to his knees for his wand. A cleaning spell and a warming charm
later, and Remus was tucking himself back into his trousers. The Baron still
floated near the ceiling on his back. ‘Ahhhh,’ he sighed long and contentedly.
‘That was gooood.’ He looked over at Remus suspiciously. ‘If I find out that
you’re going around saying you’ve brought me off….’
‘Trust me, I shan’t,’ Remus said quickly, and made for the portrait door. ‘But
if you want more, there is someone back there you could ask!’ He ducked into
the corridor and let the portrait bang closed behind him, laughing over the
Baron’s furious roar.
TBC….
***** In which Remus gets the hang of something new *****
Chapter Summary
     Restraining Orders
A few days later, just when Remus thought things might be returning to normal,
he had one of the most incredible experiences of his young life. And
considering the year he’d been having, that was saying something.
He was on his way from Defence Against the Dark Arts to Advanced
Transfiguration – neither of which he could never look at quite the same way
again – when he felt something slip in his bag. Before he knew it, his bag was
considerably lighter, and all its contents were strewn across the hallway. He
whipped around, wand out and ready, but only caught a glimpse of non-descript
robes turning a corner.
‘It was Regulus!’ Sirius growled. ‘Reg, and that damn Barty Crouch. James—’
‘Yeah, I’ll get it,’ James said, rushing after them. They heard him yell as to
stop them.
‘Reparo’ Remus muttered at his bag. The seams patched themselves loosely.
‘Damn. I think this bag’s about done for,’ he said, squatting to collect his
books and things. ‘Ought to do until we can get to Hogsmeade, though, I
suppose.’
He and Sirius scooped up his stuff, ignoring the looks from younger students
who stepped around them. Then a pair of girls began screaming.
‘What the—’ they said to one another, looking up. Remus turned utterly white.
Katherine O’Malley, Eudora Nestor, and Jocasta Stalk were holding up a very
familiar item, one he had quite forgotten had been in his pack at all.
He rose, trying to think of some explanation. But before he could open his
mouth, things got so, so much worse. He heard the insistent meowing of a
particularly maddening cat. Mrs Norris trotted over to the mess on the floor,
looked at the girls with their discovery, and yowled.
‘Look, it’s just a—’
‘Well, well,’ Mr Filch smirked as he closed in on the little group. ‘What have
we here, then, ay?’
‘Mr Filch, his bag fell apart—’ Sirius began.
‘—And he had this!’ Jocasta crowed. ‘It’s a disgusting Muggle brochure, Mr
Filch! Just look at this! It’s…pornographic!’
The surrounding students alternately gasped, giggled, or worst, tried to see.
Several shot Remus looks of thorough contempt. A few looked embarrassed or
sympathetic. Many decided that they should be elsewhere as soon as possible.
Filch took the catalogue from Jocasta and flipped through it, stone-faced.
Remus put a steadying hand on Sirius’s arm, lest he make their situation more
distressing.
‘Contraband,’ Filch pronounced toothily. ‘Go on, then,’ he barked at the
onlookers. ‘Get on to your lessons!’
When the three girls, Sirius, and Remus were the only ones left in the hallway,
Filch spoke again. ‘Have you any possible explanation, Mr Lupin?’
Remus shook his head. ‘I forgot it was in there,’ he said with a shrug. ‘I
meant to get rid of it—’
‘Sure you did,’ Filch sneered knowingly. ‘Well. Detention, then. Come with me,
Lupin,’ he ordered, and Remus, helpless to protest, followed in his wake. As
they marched away, Remus could hear Sirius trying to appease the three young
ladies.
He trailed behind Filch down to the man’s office. Mrs Norris had evidently gone
back to patrolling the halls, content now that her master had taken the
offender into custody.
‘Always knew there were something queer about you, Lupin,’ Filch commented as
he opened the door to his office and pointed for Remus to enter.
Remus said nothing and took his seat in front of the great desk. He knew from
experience that the best way to deal with Filch’s storms was to let them blow
themselves out.
‘If I went up to the Gryffindor dormitory,’ Filch mused, ‘and cleaned out your
trunks, drawers, and cupboards, right this minute, what do you suppose I might
find there?’ He settled himself in the chair behind the desk, unrolled the
catalogue, and began to flip through it again. ‘Dear, oh dear,’ he continued,
clucking his tongue against his overlarge front teeth. ‘We are the randy little
thing, ain’t we?’ He paged through at a leisurely pace, and Remus began to
think he would scrutinise every page in front of the student before naming the
punishment. ‘Like this, do you?’ he accused, thrusting an open page of the
catalogue at Remus.
Remus leaned forward to look. The page depicted a large selection of vibrators.
He recognised the realistic one that Andromeda had favoured over the holiday.
‘Not really, Mr Filch,’ he said truthfully. ‘Those are for girls,’ he added,
hoping to make it seem more innocent.
Filch was not amused. He seemed to take Remus’s statement as a correction, as
if he didn’t know what the dildos were for. ‘Is that so?’ he asked icily, and
went back to reading the catalogue. ‘None of those up in your room, then?’
Under other circumstances, it would have been comical. Filch hurled accusations
at Remus as if cross-examining him, proclaiming more than probing for answers.
Remus kept his face neutral and merely said ‘No’ whenever required.
‘What about these, then?’ Filch asked, handing the catalogue over once more.
Remus peered down. It was the page with all the bondage gear, including the
intricate web of straps that had prompted Remus to keep the catalogue in the
first place, however inadvertently.
‘I…I…’ he stammered, trying to deny with a straight face that the page excited
him.
‘So!’ Filch crowed. ‘I think I know exactly what punishment to assign to you,
then.’ He reached into a drawer and pulled out a brass skeleton key. ‘Use this
in the door behind you,’ he instructed, handing Remus the key. ‘Shut the door
behind you, face the wall, and don’t turn around until I come in.’
‘Mr Filch, I have a lesson—’
‘Oh, your lesson will just have to wait,’ Filch told him.
The many times Remus had been in Filch’s office, usually with at least one of
the other Marauders with him, he had always wondered about the door. It was to
the left of the fireplace, but it was always closed. Peter had reasoned that it
was Filch’s private quarters, but Sirius had bet a thousand Galleons that it
was the room where Filch kept all the torture equipment he always threatened to
use on students. Everyone knew that the Headmaster had put a stop to centuries
of corporal punishment and that Filch was livid to have lost his most potent
leverage against the students. Even seven years later, he was known to grumble
constantly about the way his methods had been dismissed, and how he itched to
get his hands onto the errant inhabitants of Hogwarts.
Remus fitted the key in the lock and it turned as if well-oiled. He opened the
door and went in, closing it behind him. It clicked with finality. Remus tried
the knob, but it would not budge. He turned and looked around.
The bet was a draw, he realised. Peter and Sirius were both right. The room had
obviously been a torture chamber. Manacles and chains hung on the walls from
giant iron rings. An Iron Maiden stood in one corner, and a complicated rack-
sort-of-device took up most of one wall, along with a veritable tool-shed of
knives, saws, pokers, tongs, whips, and other assorted implements Remus did not
wish to contemplate. But it was undoubtedly also a bedroom. A massive four-
poster with black curtains, three times the size of their dormitory beds,
occupied the absolute centre of the room. A wardrobe was set next to the iron
cage. Personal items littered the mantelpiece, which clearly opened onto the
same fireplace in Filch’s office on the other side of that wall. A mirror hung
above it, tilted out from the wall at an angle toward the foot of the bed.
‘What in Merlin’s name is Dumbledore thinking, letting this man work here?’
Remus said aloud. ‘Barmy old madman,’ he muttered. But Filch’s instructions had
left no room for arguing, and it seemed his room knew it. The door pushed him
toward the middle of the room. Remus shook his head, reminding himself that
Dumbledore was many things, but reckless was not one of them, and walked to the
nearest open spot of wall. Here at least he could see the door, possibly duck
out if Filch returned with murder on his mind. But apparently the walls were
bewitched to expect this: He felt the same sensation of being pushed away. No
way was he going near any of the actual instruments, including any of the
weapons, so he worked his way along to the far wall, between the wardrobe and
the door to what he assumed was a bath. He was allowed to stand there, it
seemed. He could see himself in the mirror at its funny angle.
He stood there for what seemed like forever. A few times he leaned his head
against the stones, only to be pushed upright again. He unlocked his knees to
sway back and forth, side to side, to ease the feeling that he might fall over.
All the while, he thought about the torture devices currently facing his back.
Was Filch just going to scare him? Did he actually think he could get away with
laying hands – or whips, or whatever – on a student?
He heard the lock click. The door swung open and Remus tried to look into the
mirror to see Filch’s approach. Somehow he knew better than to turn around. He
recognised Filch’s worn boots, but behind him tapped a pair of shiny black
stilettos that hugged the legs inside them...up and up beyond the wearer’s
knees.
‘Mr Filch tells me you are quite the little rapscallion, Mr Lupin,’ a witch’s
voice, velvety and mocking, said behind his back. ‘He seems to think you need a
bit of a lesson.’
Remus couldn’t believe what he was hearing. What was she doing down here?
‘Turn around, Mr Lupin,’ she commanded. Remus obeyed without thinking. The wolf
in him knew dominance, and this voice had it. He turned and confirmed the
voice’s identity: Professor Sinistra stood before him in Filch’s room. But it
was a Sinistra like he had never seen before. Instead of the prim robes and
wide-brimmed hat, she was dressed in a leather corset, the thigh-high leather
boots, and very little in between. ‘Mr Lupin, you are seventeen years of age,
is that not correct?’ The perfunctory tone was exactly the same, however.
‘Yes, Professor,’ Remus answered, glancing nervously from her to Filch.
‘Good. Then our game will be legal,’ she told him, and smiled. ‘Argus, bring us
some refreshments for later,’ she asked him sweetly. Filch looked about to
protest, but Sinistra cut it off by saying ‘Now,’ in the same Voice. Filch left
them, and she turned back into the sweet, young professor Remus was used to.
‘Have a seat, Remus,’ she invited him breezily, as if they were having tea. She
perched on the edge of Filch’s bed and patted the mattress next to her. ‘It’s
perfectly safe, I assure you.’
Remus shuffled to the bed, but hesitated to sit where Argus Filch slept.
‘Professor...is this some sort of joke?’
‘It needn’t be,’ Professor Sinistra said to him. ‘Argus tells me you had a
certain catalogue from...ah... Sensual Sorcery? And that you seemed to react
very favourably to a particular set of items used for bondage and domination.
Is that true?’
‘Well, you see the thing is, Professor--’ Remus began to say.
‘It’s all right, Remus. You don’t have to explain why you had it. Believe it or
not, you’re not exactly in as much trouble as Argus would like you to believe.’
She batted her lashes prettily.
‘I’m...not?’ Remus repeated.
‘Of course not. Do sit down, you’ll put a crick in my neck.’
Remus sat warily. ‘But...if it’s not really contraband....’
‘Really, Mr Lupin,’ Sinistra said in her “Professor” voice, ‘I expected better
of you. There’s nothing illegal in that catalogue, or even about using anything
from that firm. But clearly it takes an adventurous, mature spirit to put them
to use properly. It’s not something we want students experimenting with it on
their own. They might get hurt.’
Remus watched her blankly. ‘But...then...what are you....’
‘I should think that would be obvious, Remus,’ Sinistra said, leaning in with
lots of cleavage. ‘I believe you’re involved with Mr Black, aren’t you?’ she
asked confidentially. ‘So don’t think I expect you to feel any attraction to
me. In fact, it’s better that way. But if you really liked what you saw, Remus,
then I could help you discover a whole world of pleasure you’ve hardly dreamed
of, teach you things you could share with your lover later, in your own way.
You don’t know how rare it is for us to find someone in your perfect situation,
Remus: On the cusp of your breakthrough, but with no danger of falling in love
with someone who is still technically your professor.’
‘When you say “us,” you mean....’
‘Oh, Argus talks a mean game,’ she said, snickering, ‘but really, he just likes
to watch.’
‘Professor--’
‘Call me Aurora,’ she said brightly.
‘Er...Professor, are you seriously suggesting that we...that I....’
‘Yes, dear. I’m suggesting that I can teach you things about your desires you
never knew you felt. I wouldn’t offer this to you were the circumstances not so
auspicious. But I don’t wish to do anything you don’t want to do. You must
decide, Remus.’
‘Now?’
‘Yes. You see right now, everyone believes you are serving a detention with
Argus. It would be difficult to arrange another appointment so artlessly.’
‘I don’t want to be tortured,’ Remus said quickly. ‘I don’t like pain.’
‘All right. There’s a lot we can do without inflicting pain.’
‘You’re very...different.’
‘Well, that’s the beauty of persona-play, darling.’
‘I mean...if it weren’t for all this,’ Remus looked around the room and made a
vague gesture toward her outfit, ‘I’d think you were a normal - I mean a nice
person. I mean--’
Aurora Sinistra laughed delicately. ‘But I am nice, Remus. I don’t have to be
mean to be a dominatrix.’
‘You shan’t do anything I don’t want?’
‘No. Have you read about safewords?’
‘I...think so. It’s a word or a phrase that stops the scene right away.’
‘That’s right. We’ll give you a safeword. If you don’t like what we’re doing,
you just go right ahead and say it. We’ll stop immediately.’
‘And, will Mr Filch....’
‘Oh, he’ll probably watch, but don’t worry. He’s nowhere near as dangerous as
he likes people to think. He’s just a big kitten.’
Remus’s expression eloquently noted his doubt. Sinistra laughed again. ‘If you
don’t want to do this, there’s no harm done,’ she told him. ‘I’m very good at
memory charms.’
Remus thought about the bondage gear in the catalogue again. He looked into
Sinistra’s - Aurora’s - eyes. She didn’t flinch, and what was more, she smelled
honest.
‘Let’s give it a go,’ Remus said with a deep breath.
Sinistra clapped her hands with delight. ‘Oh, excellent!’ she said. ‘Right.
Let’s assign you a safeword. What will you remember?’
‘Godric Gryffindor,’ Remus said in a strange voice, remembering the very phrase
he had provided to Bill Weasley just a few weeks earlier.
‘That ought to do nicely. Good. And you’ll need your wardrobe.’ She produced
her wand from the centre of her corset. ‘Accio!’ A zippered mask flew out of a
dresser drawer toward them and she caught it. ‘I don’t want to take you too far
too quickly. But is there something you saw in this,’ she pulled the catalogue
seemingly out of the air, ‘that you’d like to investigate?’
Remus accepted the catalogue with reverence or trepidation, depending on the
moment. He trusted her, strange as her dual personality appeared, but the
incongruity of it all just struck him as odd. He half-expected Professors
McGonagall or Dumbledore to burst through the door at any moment, to sack
Sinistra and Filch on the spot for even suggesting this activity, and to expel
him for taking part in it. Then too, trying out bondage with Professor Sinistra
was one thing. She was young, pretty, and currently nice. She had always been
fair in class. Filch, on the other hand....
He flipped open the catalogue and found the pages he sought. ‘I don’t even know
how one wears that,’ he confided, pointing to the strap contraption.
‘But...what about, er, that?’ He put his finger under a photograph of a less
confining model.
‘Mm...’ Sinistra said, looking at the picture. ‘That’s rather advanced. Why
don’t we start a bit more free-form? Tell you what: You get undressed and back
up in front of the wall and wait. We’ll get there.’
‘Un....’
‘You don’t expect to do this with your clothes on? And...let’s skip this for
now,’ she said, running the mask through her hands. ‘We’ll just see how things
go.’
‘All right....’
‘Now, Remus, there’s one more thing you’ll need to know: Once I come back in,
we’ll be in the scene, right? No more Miss Nice Witch. And no calling me by
name.’
Remus, who hadn’t called her by name once, nodded.
‘Don’t be surprised.’
‘No, I.... That part’s okay, I think.’
‘Splendid,’ she beamed. ‘Okay, I’ll give you a few minutes to get cooking.’ She
stalked around the bed toward the door, unlocking it with her wand. ‘Oh, and
Remus? No touching yourself, understand?’
Remus shuddered. He had once played that very trick on Sirius, and now the
tables were turned. He stood up and tried the other door. It was, in fact, a
bath. Not knowing quite why, he went inside, shut the door, and undressed
there, folding his clothes carefully and stacking them on the counter. He
padded back out, wincing at the cold bite of the flagstone floor against his
bare feet. He resumed his position facing the wall, but this time, as he
waited, his anticipation grew in excess of his fear.
He heard the lock click. The door swung open and Remus tried to look into the
mirror to see Sinistra’s approach. He knew better than to turn around before
given permission. He recognised the shiny black stilettos and behind them,
Filch’s worn and scuffed boots.
‘Mr Filch tells me you are quite the little rapscallion, Mr Lupin,’ she said
again in the same mocking tone she had used on her first entrance. ‘He seems to
think you need a bit of a lesson.’
Remus stood still. Thoughts about his nakedness, her proximity, and the
unwanted observer filled his mind. His hands wandered down toward his crotch -
not to touch, but to cover.
‘Turn around, Mr Lupin,’ she commanded.
Remus obeyed without question, but he left his hands in place like fig leaves.
‘Hands at your sides. Did I tell you to cover up?’
‘No, ma’am.’ It seemed the natural thing to call her.
‘Well, do you think you need to be taught a lesson?’
‘Yes, ma’am, I suppose so,’ he said softly.
‘Speak up!’
‘Yes, ma’am,’ he repeated more forcefully.
Sinistra clicked her tongue. ‘Mr Filch would string you up by your ankles,’ she
said, ‘but he’s not allowed to use torture on students. Dumbledore’s orders. I,
on the other hand, have no such injunction. Should I string you up by your
ankles?’
Remus had a feeling it was a rhetorical question. He remained silent, and a few
seconds later she continued.
‘I have a better idea for you, Mr Lupin. Hold out your wrists.’
Remus complied. Sinistra conjured a set of leather manacles. She buckled them
around his wrists securely but not tight enough to cut into his flesh. Remus
tested the tensile strength; he could probably break them if he really wanted,
but it would hurt. A lot.
‘Now stay put,’ Sinistra said and clacked across the floor to the entrance. She
opened the door. ‘Mr Filch, if you please?’
Filch came in eagerly, gawking at Remus like a child taking in the sight of
Christmas presents under the tree.
‘Filch, put him on the harness,’ Sinistra told him. Filch shambled forward and
grasped the leather strap connecting Remus’s wrists. He tugged roughly and led
Remus to the bed. Remus hesitated. ‘Up you get,’ Sinistra told him expectantly.
Remus climbed the short step-ladder and stood on the mattress. Sinistra flicked
her wand and the leather manacles flew over his head. His arms stretched
helplessly to follow his wrists. The strap hung itself on a hook at the centre
of the bed’s canopy frame. Remus had to balance on his toes to keep his
shoulders from stretching painfully.
‘Hm,’ Sinistra walked slowly in a circle around the bed while Filch backed away
to perch against the rack. ‘It’s a start. Still, I don’t think this really
imparts any sort of message, do you, Argus? No.’ She opened the wardrobe and
pulled out several long silk scarves. ‘After all, Lupin here is a prefect. He
should know better. And his offence is so very, very naughty. Isn’t it, Mr
Lupin? Seems to me that he should learn some restraint.’ She tapped the
mattress with her wand. It turned to wood. She walked up the step-ladder and
onto the wood slats, wrapping the scarves around her hand. ‘Goodness, he’s
excited, Filch! Are you enjoying this, Lupin?’ She unwrapped a scarf and draped
it around his neck, between his head and arms. The fringed ends tickled his
buttocks and he tried not to twitch. ‘Answer me, young man,’ Sinistra said
sharply.
‘No, ma’am,’ Remus said tentatively. What was he supposed to say?
‘I think you’re lying,’ Sinistra said with narrowing eyes. She brought the
scarf back around under Remus’s front. His field of vision was reduced to her
corseted bosom and he felt a tug under his shoulders. Then she walked behind
him again and pulled down on the scarf. The strain on his wrists in the leather
straps was replaced by a pressure against his throat and under his shoulders.
‘I don’t like lying, Mr Lupin,’ she whispered in his ear while he choked
against the scarf.
She dropped him a few seconds later. He felt the jerk against his wrists as the
leather took his weight again, his toes returned to the floor and he gasped for
air.
‘We’ll just leave that there, in case you misbehave again,’ Sinistra told him.
She unwrapped the second scarf and hooked it behind one knee. She tied a knot
just at the base of his thigh, loose enough to allow him some room to move, but
tight enough to keep him from slipping out, and then lifted the ends to another
hook, this one near the corner of the canopy. Remus’s leg raised off the floor,
leaving him only the one foot to balance on, spreading his hips like a sort of
sexual traction harness.
‘In the old days, Mr Lupin, convicts were drawn and quartered. Do you know how
that is done?’
‘Yes, ma’am,’ Remus answered. Did she really mean to simulate it?
Sinistra unwound a third scarf and put a knot in the middle. She ran the knot
across his back, under his arse where the angle of his leg pulled his cheeks
apart, and around his other cheek to his hard and waiting cock. She touched the
knot to the tip of his penis, using his pre-come to wet the fabric a tiny bit.
Then she held the scarf taut on either side of the knot, the dab of liquid
facing Remus. ‘This is my lecture, Mr Lupin, and if you cannot remain silent, I
shall make you. Open your mouth.’
Remus again found himself responding to the tone of dominance that spoke
directly to his wolf. He had a choice: to fight or obey. Hanging from his
wrists, one leg suspended in the air, his chances of fighting were slim.
Besides, he wanted to continue. Thinking it made him realise it was true, and
he relaxed his lips and let them part. Sinistra jammed the knot against his
tongue. He could taste his own liquids mingled with the dusty dryness of the
fabric as it forced his tongue down. Sinistra jerked the gag tight against his
jaw and tied it closed roughly. Again, he felt the slight tickle of fringe
against the small of his back.
‘Horses, or sometimes oxen, were chained to a man’s limbs and made to walk
slowly outward from his body. As they did, his arms and legs were stretched
until the joints dislocated, the flesh tore, and the muscle utterly detached
from him.’ She unwound a fourth scarf, knotted it above his other knee. ‘I
think you’ll agree my methods are more humane, if no less effective.’ She
pulled up and his foot left the former mattress. He hung from three points,
now, and he was gagged beside.
‘Now, I don’t have to ask whether you’ll repeat the offence that caused you to
come under Mr Filch’s care, do I? No, I don’t.’ She climbed down from the wood
slats and crossed back to the wardrobe. ‘We’ll let you think about this for a
minute or two. Filch, a glass of sherry, if you please.’
Filch went out to fetch her drink, but on his way, he pushed Remus’s waist.
Remus swung gently, side to side, like a hairless sloth on a bizarre tree
branch. By the time Filch returned with a small service table and a tray
holding a decanter and two glasses, Remus had stopped swinging. The absurdity
of it made him want to laugh, but he simply watched her, waiting for her next
move.
‘Let’s see if our goose is cooked, shall we?’ she asked Filch after a sip or
two of sherry. She picked her way back onto the bed, this time with her hands
full of something she had taken from the wardrobe that Remus couldn’t identify.
She uncoiled it for him slowly – it was a very long strap of leather with a
number of loops sewn onto it. She began to wrap it around his pelvis and under
his back, looping it through the loops at various points, tightening here and
loosening there as necessary. It felt like a cross between a diaper and a
climbing harness, and again, Remus suppressed the urge to laugh. The harness
wound between his legs and cris-crossed all around his dick, leaving it
sticking straight up through the layers of leather. The edges of the leather
rubbed the base of his cock as they moved, somewhere between sharp and soft. He
wondered if she had used magic to make it work like that, or if the strap was
magical all by itself. All the while, she lectured him.
‘You like playing with the idea of nasty little toys, Lupin, because you like
most of your fellow Gryffindors are foolhardy. You think your bravery can see
you through any situation. Do you think Death Eaters are going to play games
before they kill you? You’re right: they will. Only their games will be nowhere
near as pleasant for you as even this. They will see to it that you are broken
before you are killed. Only if you understand what you can take—’ she clamped a
ring onto the leather harness, now covering his lower body and holding his
penis perpendicular to his abdomen— ‘will you know how to withstand their
assaults.’
She threaded another strong piece of leather, this one with another d-ring on
one end, through the ring she had used to secure his harness. She buckled the
tether in place and added the end of it to the same hook his wrists were on,
arching his back in the process and straightening his legs. Then she eased the
leather manacles off the hook, dropping his arms above his head. Finally, she
pulled his arms back and he felt, rather than saw, her tie them off on the
other end of the canopy. He was stretched in mid-air. He could feel air flowing
through the crack in his arse and realised that somehow, she had tied the
harness so that it held his cheeks apart. The weave of leather around his cock
was tight enough to serve as a cock-ring as well, pressing his balls to his
crotch and preventing blood flow and early ejaculation.
Sinistra ran one nail along the underside of his harness, scratching a thin
line up the seam of flesh to his anus and then over the edge of each cheek. He
felt her wand tip touch him and then probe slightly, shooting lubricant into
his hole. ‘Filch, number three, if you please,’ Sinistra called out, like a
Muggle surgeon requesting a scalpel. Filch jumped up from his perch and
rummaged in a drawer in the wardrobe. He drew out the selected instrument with
a sigh of success and brought it to the step-stool. He sat on the wooden floor
that used to be his bed, ensuring a good angle for the next phase. His fly was
open.
‘Breathe in when I tell you and push out when I say,’ Sinistra said to Remus,
who nodded. She maintained eye contact as her fingers pulled the ring of muscle
open. ‘Breathe,’ she ordered, and Remus sucked in a breath around the gag.
‘Push!’ Remus pushed out as she plunged a large, round object into his arse. It
felt like another man’s dick. Perhaps a dildo? He had not got a good enough
look at it to be sure.
Sinistra impaled him on the false cock a few times while Remus screamed through
his gag. Then she walked under his legs to stand between them, but did not
remove the dildo. ‘Keep it there,’ she instructed, and Remus clenched his
buttocks to comply.
Sinistra reached through his spread legs to his nipples and pulled up on them.
Remus pulled against his arm restraints to rise up, but could not follow far.
She pinched them between her nails and pulled the skin away from his chest.
When she let go, they were red with white half-moons where her nails had bit
the flesh. She repeated the action a few more times until Remus was whimpering
madly, begging even though he could not speak around the saliva-soaked gag.
‘No,’ Sinistra said simply. She drove the dildo in a bit more before dragging
the silk that held up one leg all the way down to his ankle and off. His leg
fell to the ground, but could not touch because of the harness holding him. He
had to clench around the dildo again to keep from losing it. She released his
other leg, and it dropped, too, putting greater strain on his arms and arching
his back again. She untied his arms and he cantilevered upward, now suspended
entirely by the harness, which pressed his balls and rubbed his cock base and
stretched his buttocks. She must have spelled it somehow for the effect – a
normal harness would simply ride up everywhere, he thought. He gingerly bent
his elbows and brought his wrists back down over his head, holding on to the
harness strap with both hands.
Sinistra clucked in mock sympathy and grabbed up the silk scarf around his neck
again. She brought the ends back around to his front and tied them around his
arms to the strap. ‘How does that feel?’ she asked simply. Remus closed his
eyes to keep himself from crying. He needed to come! He could feel it, but he
was sore and spent and so bound up he didn’t think he’d ever be able to bring
himself over the precipice to completion.
‘Look at me,’ Sinistra told him. His eyes snapped open and he used them to beg.
‘No stamina, Lupin. None at all. You’ll be easy prey for the Death Eaters.’ She
sighed. ‘Oh, all right, then.’
She put her hands on both his shoulders and twisted, left pushing forward,
right pulling back. She twisted him up on the strap as if she were turning him
before a piñata, as if he were a swing she wanted to spin inside. When the
strap was coiled tightly around itself as much as it would go, she popped the
dildo out of his arse cheeks and let him spin. Remus shut his eyes tight and
rode out the pirouettes. His awareness narrowed to the way the harness rubbed
against his cock. He opened his eyes and looked down at his penis. He was still
whirling around, now twisting up the strap in the other direction, but his dick
gave him a fixed point and the rest of his peripheral vision was just a blur.
He spun all the way in one direction, slowed, and stopped. Sinistra squeezed
his shaft and then let him go to spin out the other way. The harness rubbed and
squeezed and as he slowed again, he felt Sinistra catch his legs with the silks
again. But this time, she did not stretch him toward the corners of the bed;
instead, she pushed his knees toward his chest, folding him in half. His cock
stuck out between his legs, knees pressed to his shoulders. She tied him into
place efficiently and rubbed his shaft against the taut strap, then set him
spinning again. Between the harness itself, his bug-like position, and the
constant slap of his cock against the twisting leather, he spurted hot and
hard. Semen spattered all over the room, the bed frame, Sinistra’s corset, and
even Filch’s hair.
‘Like a fly in a web, dear,’ Sinistra told him with a wagging finger. ‘You’ll
need to build up more resistance. Perhaps we should leave you to hang there
like that all night? Should we? No? Well, a few minutes at least. Give you time
to think about how you’ll respond to real torture.’ She climbed down and turned
the floor back into a mattress, leaving Remus utterly tangled in his own limbs.
‘Come, Argus, you can clean yourself in the office.’ Remus looked over and saw,
for the first time, that Filch had brought himself off during the encounter.
The caretaker tucked his dick back into his trousers, buttoned them, and
followed her out, scowling.
Remus closed his eyes and relaxed into the bonds. He was still swinging just a
bit, but in this foetal position, with his immediate need satisfied, he felt
strangely limp and safe. He was just drifting off when he heard the door open
again. Sinistra, alone once more, came in and using her wand, untied him,
lifted the leather strap off the hook, and lowered him gently to the mattress.
She removed his gag and sat on the edge of the bed to disassemble the harness.
‘Well, what did you think?’ she asked him as she eased the straps away from his
flesh.
‘It was…interesting. I didn’t like Filch being there.’
Sinistra nodded. ‘Well, there’s no harm in him, really. But mainly I let him in
because it’s good to have a witness who can attest that nothing permanently
damaging was done.’
‘I…. What you said earlier, about being able to take what I learn home to
Sirius….’
‘I shouldn’t try anything this advanced with him just yet. You two could get
hurt.’
‘I know…but…I think perhaps we should just figure it out on our own. Bit by
bit.’
Sinistra looked vaguely disappointed. ‘You didn’t like it?’
‘No, I did,’ Remus insisted, sitting up. ‘I just…if anyone’s going to see me
like that, I’d want it to be Sirius.’
‘Ah.’ Sinistra stood up and brought him his clothes from the bathroom. ‘We can
arrange that, you know.’
If she hadn’t been his teacher, Remus thought he might kiss her right then and
there.
TBC….
***** In which Remus loses his mind *****
Remus told Professor Sinistra – Aurora, as she reminded him he could call her
outside of class – that he wouldn’t try anything dangerous with Sirius without
her around to help. But Sirius insisted that they were for all practical
purposes fully qualified wizards, and that anything she could do with a wand,
either of them could handily reproduce if not improve. Remus doubted this was
exactly true, but he was eager to share his experiences with, and most
importantly, on, Sirius. Luckily, Peter was able to produce a second catalogue
and they sent away from some mundane gear immediately.
‘We can add it to the catalogue once we’re better at it,’ Sirius justified
further as they took their order into Hogsmeade one Saturday shortly
thereafter.
After they climbed back out of the tunnel behind the one-eyed witch, they
turned the corner to see Katherine O’Malley and a few of her friends talking by
a window.
‘Better get cracking on our Magical Theory projects,’ Lucy Sterns was saying.
‘Fifteen rolls of parchment by end of term.’
Sirius sucked his teeth. ‘Oh, yeah,’ he murmured, frowning.
‘You haven’t started yours yet?’ Remus hissed at him. ‘Honestly, Sirius….’
‘Cheers, Remus, it’s fine. I’ll think of something. You’ll help.’
‘What makes you think—’ Remus began, but Katherine saw them arguing.
‘Remus, I’ve been meaning to talk to you,’ she called as she walked over.
‘Would you be giving me a bit o’yer time, then?’
‘Oh, er, of course, Katherine.’ He shot Sirius an exasperated look and escorted
her down the corridor a few paces. ‘Look, if this is about that brochure I had
the other day….’
‘That ‘tis, but it won’t be what you’re thinking ‘tis,’ Katherine told him in
her lilting brogue. ‘I know the other girls were, well, a bit ashamed to see
it, but I thought it was sort of funny, d’ye see?’
‘Not really,’ Remus admitted. ‘But I’m glad you weren’t offended.’
‘Not at all. But that brings me to what I wanted to be talking to yer about. I
was hoping…well, what I mean to ask of ye is….’
‘Katherine, would you like to go on a date, sometime?’ Remus asked politely.
She beamed. ‘Yer a proper gentleman, Remus. That I would.’
They chatted and fixed on an evening they were free, and then they came back to
the small group of her friends, who had absorbed Sirius into their
conversation.
‘You could do experimental magic,’ Jonathan Harker was telling Sirius. ‘There’s
loads of room to make stuff up.’
‘Yeah, good point!’ Sirius answered brightly. Remus rolled his eyes. ‘Hey, John
says I should make it all up.’
‘That’s not what he said, you git.’ Remus shook his head at him. ‘Come on,
let’s go.’
‘Where?’
‘To the library. You’re starting on this now.’
‘But I can’t take any books out.’
‘You can’t; but I can.’ Remus dragged him down the corridor and into the
library.
Several hours later they emerged with a number of tomes, after Remus swore to
Madam Pince that he would not allow Sirius to use them unsupervised. They
hauled their armloads of books to the Common Room and Remus settled in to force
Sirius to do his homework.
‘Moony, look!’ Sirius shouted, pointing to a page excitedly. ‘Look at this!’
Remus sighed, sat up, and leaned over Sirius’s shoulder to read the page.
‘Experimental sex magic?!’ he squeaked, eyes bugging.
‘Yeah,’ Sirius agreed. ‘And there’s instructions! Come on, let’s try.’ He
grabbed Remus by the hand and made for the stairs.
‘Sirius, no! You’re going to sit down and find a topic.’
‘I just did; now come on and let’s try some of this stuff!’ Sirius tucked the
book under his arm.
‘Sirius….’
‘Yes?’
Remus gave him the look. Sirius frowned and sat dolefully. ‘You never let me
have any fun.’ Remus scoffed, but Sirius dog-eared the page and moved on.
‘I didn’t say you couldn’t write about it,’ Remus whispered a moment later.
‘Okay! Now we’re talking!’ Sirius crowed and began to make copious notes.
 
The next morning, Remus woke to find Sirius standing over him, holding his
wand. ‘What the hell do you think you’re doing, Padfoot?’ Remus asked.
Except, he didn’t ask. He yipped. He looked up at Padfoot. Why was Padfoot on
two legs? He smelled like Padfoot, Remus thought, leaning over to sniff
Padfoot’s crotch. Only he wasn’t as hairy. ‘What’s going on?’ he asked again.
Except, it came out as a bark and a yip – again.
He launched out of bed at Padfoot, frustrated and unsure why. He bowled Padfoot
over onto the next bed, snuffled at his armpits and neck where the scents were
strong. For some reason, Padfoot’s groin was covered with cloth. He pulled at
the waistband with his teeth.
Padfoot scrambled backward and got onto all fours and said something
forcefully. Remus reared and cuffed him with one paw. He dragged Padfoot’s head
under his hand and bent forward to catch Padfoot’s neck in his jaws.
Another two-legged creature who smelled not exactly like Prongs barked at
Padfoot. Which was strange, because Prongs usually didn’t bark. Padfoot barked
back, and somehow he could comprehend it as language.
‘He’s locked in his wolf-mind, I think. Trying to dominate. Help me get him
off!’
Remus sensed fear in Padfoot. He let go of Padfoot’s neck and bore him down to
the mattress under his weight. Something was not right. He felt anxious, and
Padfoot’s attitude did not help. NotQuiteProngs came over and pulled on Remus’s
shoulders, and that was decidedly wrong. Prongs didn’t have paws. He reared and
cuffed the impostor. He had to subdue Padfoot.
NotQuiteProngs lost something off his face, then barked again. Again, Remus
could understand Padfoot’s words, though not their meaning. ‘I tried a spell
for my research project on experimental sex magic.’
There was one word Remus understood: sex. It unlocked a primal need in him and
he rolled over Padfoot again, clawing at the fabric that covered him, masked
his scent. He discovered that his paws had extra pads, ones that could grasp,
and he closed his fists on the fabric and pulled. The pyjamas tore away in
shreds. Remus howled triumphantly and humped at his mate.
NotQuiteProngs pulled him off again, and he was joined by another who was
NotQuiteWormtail. Enraged and uncertain why this false pack prevented him from
his goal, he loped around the room, back to his own things. The false pack-
members tried to head him off and he doubled back quickly. He slammed into his
mate and threw his head back to snarl at the others. Something impeded his
erection. He looked down and saw that he was wearing the same striped cloth
that Padfoot had had on. He tore the front flap away and launched himself at
Padfoot again.
‘Remus, you’re reacting to a spell!’ Padfoot barked at him. ‘Moony! Stop! Calm
down!’
Moony. That was his name, he remembered. Padfoot wanted him to calm. There were
only two things he could think of that would calm him. He needed to mate.
And....
...He needed to mark his territory. He needed to make things right, by making
them smell right. Padfoot was on all fours on the ground, reaching his paw
under the bed for something. Moony mounted him in seconds. He prodded him
briskly a few times, rearing onto his hind legs as he pumped inside Padfoot’s
smooth hole, and came quickly, hot and hard. His semen dripped out of Padfoot,
but it still didn’t smell right, the smell of Padfoot beneath him. It was
tinged with blood, but that didn’t satisfy either. He pulled out of the
santorum and felt a different pressure in his prick already forming. He lifted
his leg and urinated over Padfoot’s backside and legs. The stream was hot and
smelled of ammonia and the tang of salt.
Padfoot whimpered as the acidic token of ownership trickled into his wounds,
and Moony whined in relief. Message sent; message received. He tightened the
muscle and trotted to the corner of the bed, letting loose more of his flow.
Next he approached the false pack. If they insisted on making themselves part
of this, they would respond to his dominance, too.
He fixed his eye on NotQuiteProngs, and attacked.
 
TBC....
***** In which a bad situation requires intervention *****
Chapter Summary
     Not all Magic is Practical….
James stared into Remus’s eyes just before the other boy pounced, cock still
dripping from first fucking Sirius and then peeing on him.
‘Peter, get help,’ he ordered in a low voice, then dove for his bed. Remus
jumped forward to head him off, which allowed Peter to dart through the door.
James dodged about the room, using his Quidditch reflexes to evade his
attacker. ‘Sirius? Are you all right?’
Sirius raised his head from the floor and groaned. ‘My legs are sticky,’ he
said groggily. ‘Where’s my wand?’
‘Under the bed,’ James hollered at him as he leapt from one bed to another. The
snarling, snapping Remus was still chasing him. ‘Did you happen to look up how
to reverse this spell?’
Sirius swept his hand under the bed and came out clutching his wand. ‘It said
that sexual stimulation should be enough - the sex act would release the
spell.’
‘Well, I don’t think it worked,’ James yelled back. Remus had remembered or
figured out how to use his thumbs: he caught James by the ankle and sent him
crashing to the floor. His chin bumped the ground before Remus dragged him back
onto the bed and began literally ripping his clothes off.
‘Finite Incantatem!’ Sirius shrieked. It had no effect. He stumbled forward to
pull Remus off James. Remus rubbed his hair against Sirius’s chest, but then
pushed him away harshly and grabbed for James again.
‘Moony! Moony, it’s okay. It’s okay.’ Sirius rushed over to put himself between
James and his rabid boyfriend. ‘Here. Take me again, come on.’
Remus stopped to sniff deeply of Sirius’s crotch. It smelled powerfully right.
He wasn’t interested in the rightness; he wanted to right what was currently
wrong. He butted his head against Sirius’s stomach, pushing him out of the way
and tackling James.
‘That didn’t work, Sirius!’ James yelled. ‘Any more bright ideas?’
Sirius watched as Remus, still in a feral state, began to lick James from his
head to his crotch. James’s eyes were wide and without his glasses, which Remus
had knocked off minutes before, there was nothing to hide the growing fear in
them.
‘I think maybe his sex with me wasn’t enough. We have to satiate him.’
‘Great. So we should just let him – ow! – rape us alternately? – Hey!’ James
slapped Remus’s head away from his prick. ‘Don’t bite! Don’t bite!’
Remus didn’t bite. He pinned James’s arms and licked his balls and the cleft
between his legs. He sucked James’s testicles one by one. James’s protests
turned to gibbering groans and encouraging shouts.
Remus licked up to the head of James’s prick and took the shaft into his mouth,
sucking hungrily, just as Peter and Lily ran into the room.
‘He’s locked in his wolf-mind, Lil,’ Sirius explained hurriedly. ‘I think he
can understand me, but he doesn’t seem to listen to anyone else. Doesn’t do
much good, though – it’s like he’ll only catch every other word. I think if
he’s sexually satisfied, the spell will end. But so far, nothing’s enough.’
‘He needs more stimulation,’ Lily guessed. ‘This is going to take all of us.
Sirius, you’re hurt!’
‘Just a little. I’m sticky,’ he grumbled. ‘I need to clean up. Have you got a
plan?’
‘Well, for one thing – Peter, distract him before he castrates James, will
you?’
Peter looked at her like she had just asked him to put his head in a
hippogriff’s beak, but he sprinted over and stroked Remus’s body until he could
get him to turn to one side. When Remus rolled away, Peter slid half underneath
him and began to give him one of his spectacular blow jobs. Remus’s furtive
seduction of James slowed.
‘It’s working,’ Lily told Sirius. ‘Go wash quickly, and come back. If he really
does understand you, I’m going to need you here.’
‘I’ll be quick as I can. Hang in there, mates!’ he called to Peter and James,
and hobbled out to the bathroom.
Lily dropped her bathrobe and shed her pyjamas before walking over to the
scene. Remus still had James’s dick in his mouth, but he was moving much more
slowly, clearly enjoying the way Peter tugged on him below. Lily held out her
wrist, palm down, and forced it under Remus’s nose.
‘Come on, you know me, Remus,’ she coaxed. He lifted up his head, dropping
James’s cock like an old sausage, and rubbed his face against the back of her
hand. ‘That’s it…mark me. Make us all pack. You know us.’ Lily sat on the edge
of the bed, insinuating herself between Remus and James. James dragged himself
backward to support her, ready to push himself between if need be.
Remus whined high in his throat and pushed Lily down. He licked her pubic hair
and labia, laving them as he had done James. Lily screamed in surprise. Peter
came up for air, and Remus growled.
‘Peter don’t stop!’ James snapped. ‘You’re the only thing keeping him calm.’
‘I can’t breathe,’ Peter panted. ‘Just taking a break.’
‘We can’t take a break!’ James panicked. He launched himself forward, but then
Remus did something unexpected.
Remus looked up from Lily’s bush. He picked up James bodily from the bed where
he was trying to crawl toward Remus, and dumped him at Lily’s head, his cock
practically in her face. Remus scuttled back down Lily’s torso, hands still on
James’s hips. He pushed his fingertips against James’s arse a few times before
returning to his study of Lily’s vagina. Then he pulled Peter’s hand toward his
own crotch.
‘I think he wants you two to….’ Peter said, looking up at them from the foot of
the bed.
‘Yeah, and you,’ James said. ‘Gods…who would have thought….’
‘Oh! Oh!’ Lily shouted under her assault. ‘Oh my god, it’s so good! James, come
here! Need you…’ Lily babbled, reaching for his cock.
Peter turned so he could lie more comfortably with his head toward the foot and
suck Remus down. Remus applied his tongue to Lily’s cunt, rather skilfully for
his lack of inhibition in this form, and Lily, lying on her back with James
straddling her shoulders, had him prop her on pillows so she could reach his
cock.
Sirius rushed back in. ‘Okay, I’m here. What do you ne—’ He stopped dead when
he saw the scene. ‘Oh my….’
Remus looked up at the sound of Sirius’s voice. He barked commandingly and beat
his hands on the bed between Peter’s legs and Lily’s head.
‘Sirius, come on,’ James said urgently. ‘He positioned us, so maybe he knows
what will break the spell. I think you need to complete the circle.’ He looked
down at Lily. ‘Baby, do you think you can do this sideways?’
Lily nodded, growing beyond comprehension from the ministrations of Remus’s
tongue. Sirius approached hesitantly, marvelling at the many-limbed chain.
‘Okay…so if I lie facing Pete….’
‘I can turn this way,’ James thought aloud. He changed position to stand on his
knees and hands over Lily. ‘And I can lean forward….’ He lowered himself to his
elbows, arse high in the air to allow Lily room to breathe, and craned his head
over Sirius’s hips to bring his mouth level with Sirius’s prick.
‘That okay?’ Sirius asked.
‘Can you turn toward me a little?’ James asked, rolling his eyes at the
surrealism of it all. Sirius twisted his hips and James found purchase.
The room grew quiet. Only faint moans and heavy breath hung in the air, uttered
around the slurping, schlooping sound of suction occasionally unsealed. Five
bodies interlocked at genitals and mouths, all concurrently eating and being
eaten. The air crackled with magical energy such as none of them had ever
experienced during sex. Sirius’s spell settled around them at its full power.
They writhed and thrashed and pressed into one another until Peter hit orgasm.
That sent Sirius into ejaculation, which set off James. James came into Lily’s
mouth, who bucked her hips and moaned around him, and Remus’s tongue found her
G-spot as she clutched her thighs around his head. Her muscles contracted and
then released, sluicing buckets of hot, clear, bitter orgasmic fluid. As her
juices gushed into Remus’s mouth and spilled out onto his face, he finally
crashed through the waves of his own climax, and he yelled loud and long while
he spurted into Peter’s waiting throat.
They collapsed in their loose circular heap, every one spent beyond measure at
the chain reaction and the heady feeling of magic in their copulation, now
dissipating like a storm cloud turned white again by a gale of wind. Their skin
tingled with released energy, their mouths were dry and sticky from each
other’s effusions.
Remus lifted his head off Lily’s thigh. ‘What just happened?’ he asked. His
question was a mix of wrath, confusion, and disbelief. ‘Sirius…did you…did I…?’
‘Puppy, for once, please, just…don’t ask.’ Sirius sighed. ‘And remind me to
cancel that date with Tanya Bennet.’
‘Isn’t she the one who wanted….’
‘Yeah. I didn’t mind all this bit,’ Sirius said, patting James with one hand
and Peter with the other. ‘But I don’t ever want another exposure to a Golden
Shower.’
 
TBC….
***** In which Sirius gives Remus an Easter basket *****
Chapter Summary
     Hair of the Dog
Remus told Sirius that he understood the temptation, but that he hoped Sirius
had learned his lesson about experimental magic. Sirius, for his part, felt so
bad about what had happened that he went into Hogsmeade the next weekend and
came back with a basket of items from Bleuddwydd’s Bath Supplies.
‘What’s all this for?’ Remus asked him when he came up and found the basket on
his bed.
‘I’m sorry,’ Sirius said. ‘And an early Easter basket.’
‘Where are the sweets, then?’
‘Er….’ Sirius pointed to the wrapping. ‘The bath bombes are edible. So is the
moisturizing lotion.’
‘Ah.’
‘I thought…I wanted some way to make it up to you, what happened.’
‘Well, Sirius, I pissed on you. I think that about makes us even.’
‘Nah, saved me from Tanya’s clutches, that did. I thought…’ and he whispered in
Remus’s ear.
Remus shivered. ‘Oh. Okay, then.’
 
They snuck out under James’s invisibility cloak armed with towels, the basket,
and their shaving kits, and headed for the Prefects’ Bath. Remus said the
password and they ducked inside. He checked that the mermaid was asleep.
‘I don’t know how to keep the ghosts or Peeves from coming in,’ he told Sirius,
who was gawking at the giant pool with the taps. ‘Sirius, close your mouth
before something flies in. You’ve been here before.’
‘I know, but that was before we could use it legally.’
‘You still can’t,’ Remus reminded him. He turned on several taps and the water
plunged in to begin filling the tub. ‘Let’s see here,’ he said, coming back to
the basket of luxuries.
‘There’s a foaming loofah in there,’ Sirius commented, pulling out his shaving
kit. ‘And I thought you’d like the little massaging barsoap.’
‘Mm.’ Remus selected a few items and laid them out at the tub edge. He took out
his own kit and arranged it where he could get to it, then walked over to the
benches and disrobed. The water was about halfway up the tub, so he added
another couple taps’ contents. Multi-coloured bubbles rose into the air as the
pool filled with steaming water.
‘Where did you get this idea, exactly?’ Remus asked while they sat at the edge,
waiting.
‘One of the letters. Um…Veronica Seton, I think? She mentioned that she…you
know.’ He pointed at his crotch. ‘In a heart shape. And I thought being your
barber might be fun.’
Remus nodded. The water lapped at their toes, then covered their feet. ‘Okay,’
Remus said. He slipped in to the warm stream and swam across to turn off the
taps. ‘Come in, it’s great!’
Sirius shucked his robe and dove toward the middle of the pool. He swam
underneath to where Remus trod water, and tugged him under by his legs. They
cavorted for a time, until they grew winded, and then Remus swam back to the
ledge near their things, Sirius following close behind.
‘Sit,’ Sirius called to him, and he complied. Sirius stood on the ledge and
reached into the basket for the shampoo. He popped open the lid and poured a
generous portion into his hands, then stood over Remus. He began to lather. He
massaged Remus’s scalp and short hair, soon discovering that he had used far
too much shampoo for the other boy’s shaggy cut. He slicked Remus’s hair back
to shake off some of the excess, dunked his hands in the warm water to start
over with the remaining suds. Remus closed his eyes and tilted his head back,
trusting Sirius to his ministrations.
Sirius ran his fingers through Remus’s wet, sudsy hair, pressed his fingertips
in small circles on Remus’s scalp. He scraped off the largest handfuls of
bubbles and scooped up a handful of the fragrant bathwater. He brought his
cupped hands over Remus’s head and slowly trickled the water onto his hair,
smoothing it back as he rinsed. Over and over he cascaded water onto Remus’s
head, running his fingers through and then smoothing it down.
‘With your hair wet, it’s almost as long as mine,’ he commented, petting the
hair as far as it would go between Remus’s shoulders.
‘Mm. Due for a cut, then,’ Remus murmured. He sounded half-asleep.
Sirius cupped Remus’s head at the base in both hands. ‘Let your legs out from
the ledge,’ he coaxed. ‘Float. I’ll hold you.’
Remus allowed his body to relax in the water. His legs drifted toward the
centre and Sirius guided his upper body back and back until his head went in
the water almost to his face. Sirius shifted to hold him in one hand. He dipped
his other hand in and gently poured water over his crown, his forehead, each
cheek. Then he came back to the ledge and eased Remus’s head onto his shoulder.
He fumbled behind himself for the shaving cream, then found it, popped the cap
off, and shook it vigorously. He held it over Remus’s chin and sprayed. Foam
soon covered Remus’s jaw and cheeks, his upper lip, his neck. Sirius put the
can down and grabbed Remus’s razor. Slowly and carefully, he scraped Remus’s
skin smooth.
He concentrated fully on his task, as attentive to each stroke as if it were
his own face, as if he were being graded on his performance. At last, he wiped
off the excess shaving cream and rinsed Remus’s face off with the scented
water, then dabbed his cheeks with lotion.
Remus’s eyes fluttered open. ‘All done?’ he asked as if waking from a nap. He
stretched his arms out of the water.
‘Done there, yes,’ Sirius said. ‘Not done washing you,’ he continued with a
lascivious eyebrow wiggle. He picked up the loofah and kicked off from the
ledge, then swam back around, pushing Remus into the recessed seat. He took a
deep breath and ducked under the water.
He put his left arm around Remus’s waist to hold him in place, using his right
hand for the loofah. The magical sponge produced fresh suds underwater. He
scrubbed Remus from his chest to his toes, coming up for air occasionally,
saving the best for last. He cleaned Remus with the soapy, soft sponge,
stroking his shaft and petting it between his hands. He broke the surface again
and shook the water from his eyes and hair. Remus lay with his head back on the
edge of the pool, eyes closed, quite content from the look of him.
‘How do you feel?’ Sirius asked when he had caught his breath.
In answer, Remus simply opened his arms and smiled. Sirius swam up to him and
laid his head against Remus’s shoulder. Remus hugged him tight.
‘Good. Do me?’ Sirius requested. He scratched his stubble.
Remus opened his eyes and shifted his hips. In the warm water, he slipped into
Sirius with relative ease. Sirius leaned back against him, pushing himself onto
Remus’s shaft willingly. They made love without haste. Afterward, Sirius kissed
Remus and said, ‘That was brilliant, puppy. But I meant, Will you give me a
shave?’
He received a splash in his face, followed by an armful of werewolf bearing him
under the surface. They chased and splashed and wrestled each other in the pool
for a while. Remus turned on more taps to reheat the water a bit, and when it
had refilled with hot water, he told Sirius to go sit on the ledge. Remus
shaved Sirius’s face and neck, and then spread out one of the towels at the
water’s edge. ‘Sit up on the towel,’ he told his lover.
Sirius vaulted out of the water and landed on the towel with his feet dangling
over the edge. He reached across for the other towel and wiped his chest and
arms, then scrubbed at his hair with the cloth. Remus, meanwhile, picked up the
shaving cream and shook it, then sprayed a generous quantity between Sirius’s
legs and all around his stomach.
‘What the--’ Sirius said quizzically, looking down.
‘You said you got the idea because Veronica shaves her privates, right?’ Remus
challenged, looking up at him.
‘Yes, but I just thought since we have other parts to shave....’
‘Trust me.’ Remus said simply.
Remus took up the razor and painstakingly shaved the hair above Sirius’s cock.
He shifted his balls to one side, and shaved around that, then the other side.
Then, ‘Spread a little more?’ he asked, and Sirius complied limply, and ‘Lean
back a bit.’ Sirius did. Remus carefully plied the razor under Sirius’s balls,
between his legs and down the seam of flesh toward his anus. He rinsed away the
remaining foam, took stock, and reapplied cream to catch the spots he had
missed. Sirius watched him work, holding his legs apart so that he could sit up
and still see.
‘Wow,’ he commented. ‘That’s a weird feeling. Looks strange, too,’ he observed,
taking in his now hairless gut and groin.
‘I think it looks good,’ Remus said, and he pushed Sirius down onto his back.
He climbed onto the ledge to kiss Sirius at the base of his cock. He lifted one
hip to urge Sirius to roll over. Sirius’s arse was damp, but clean from their
bath, if still a little sore from their earlier coupling. Remus pulled the
cheeks apart with his thumbs, and buried his face in the cleft. He blew hot air
into Sirius’s arsehole, then licked the ring of muscle. He continued to lave
the skin on either side of his anus, occasionally pushing his tongue into the
perineum, pulling back out to lick around the edge, back in, a bit further. Bit
by bit, he drove his tongue further into Sirius’s arse, until at last, minutes
later, he was truly tongue-fucking the other. Sirius moaned with pleasure,
pushing his arse back against Remus’s tongue wantonly.
‘Gods, oh, gods! Remus...Remus I can’t hold out....’ He broke away from Remus’s
mouth and plunged into the water, coming up behind his partner. He rammed his
cock against Remus’s arse. Remus braced himself on the wall and brought one
hand ’round to spread himself apart. Sirius probed, then thrust, throwing his
arms around Remus so that he could stay in place. Remus clung to the edge of
the tub, wrapped his legs around Sirius behind him and pulled forward to aid
Sirius in his effort.
Sirius slipped back and forth inside Remus until climax overtook him. They
broke apart and Sirius kicked twice to reach the ledge. They knelt there, arms
and heads resting on the cool tile, the water cooling slowly around them.
‘I think this might have been a mistake,’ Remus said.
‘Mistake? Gods, no - it was excellent,’ Sirius protested.
‘No, not that!’ Remus laughed. ‘I mean...shaving you. It’s going to really itch
growing out. I’m sorry.’
Sirius shrugged. ‘Hey, whatever turns you on, love,’ he allowed. ‘Besides, it
was really...different.’
‘You mean arousing?’ Remus asked.
‘Fuck, yes. That too.’ He stared into Remus’s eyes. ‘You know I’d do anything
for you, right?’
‘I know, puppy.’
‘Good. ’Cause Merlin knows, it’s hard to keep up with you.’
Remus splashed him again and leapt from the tub and out of range with
supernatural swiftness, leaving Sirius to wipe the water out of his eyes.
TBC....
***** In which Remus is too much of a gentleman *****
Chapter Summary
     Ezekiel 37:1-14
Under normal circumstances, Sirius would complain loud and long about any
injury, milking it for all the attention it was worth. It was, Remus admitted,
one of his less endearing qualities. As his nether-hair began to grow out
again, however, he said not one word about his discomfort, though Remus did
catch him scratching himself under their desks in class more than once. Remus
attributed Sirius’s uncharacteristic stoicism to the personal nature of his
problem, but there was probably a more immediate reason: Spring had made an
entrance to Hogwarts, and with it, all Sirius’s thoughts turned to the
Quidditch Cup.
He and James were training nearly every night of the week, and for hours every
Saturday. It was just as well, Remus thought, that he had arranged to spend
some time with Gideon, Kingsley, and now Katherine over the next few weeks,
because Sirius certainly had no time or interest. He came home from practise
and hit his books straight away. By the time he came stumbling into bed, he was
too bleary for much of anything more than a perfunctory fuck once in a while.
Peter, after the experience in the daisy chain, had decided to get a bit more
serious about finding out peoples’ kinks. He had sent away for a second camera,
one with a lot more features than his brother’s, and once it arrived, he put it
to use taking candid shots of people. He would hang it round his neck and put
on James’s invisibility cloak, then turn into a rat to sneak around the castle
looking for couples in flagrante. Their noise usually covered his clicking
shutter more than adequately. Already he had a rather impressive collection.
They decided to use the safely anonymous ones for the calendar.
There was one thing that bothered Peter, though he had not yet decided whether
or not to tell the others. He had overheard a few girls talking in the bathroom
on one of his forays, and someone mentioned Magical Matchmakers. Most everyone
in the group had sent them a letter, but they were complaining that they had
never heard anything back. One girl did speak up to say that based on her
letter, she had been matched up with Michael Furze, but that it hadn’t worked
out.
Then one of them announced that she had seen at once it was a hoax and hadn’t
bothered to waste her money on an obvious scam. When they asked her why she
thought so, she listed a dozen reasons, all of them salient, why she suspected
Hogwarts students.
‘It truly sounds like the kind of thing boys would do to get girls, doesn’t
it?’ one of the other girls commented. ‘Write us with your fantasy. Weren’t you
worried you were writing to someone who…well, who was just going to get off on
it?’
‘Well, if it finds me an eligible partner for the Leaving Ball, I don’t care.
The boys in this place are impossible when it comes to asking a girl out.’
‘Still. I’d be looking out, if I were you. I don’t trust Magical Matchmakers.
Did they ever put out ads anywhere but here? And a Hogsmeade Owl Box….’
‘They ran in the Daily Prophet.’
‘Once.’
‘Maybe they didn’t get enough business,’ someone suggested.
‘If you ask me, it had the distinct feeling of those Gryffindor terrors about
it,’ said the girl who’d been holding forth.
Peter had had to leave then, because one of the girls dropped her comb and
would have seen him hiding under the counter. But the young woman who had
pronounced their matchmaking service a hoax was much too close to the truth for
his comfort. Still, he supposed, they had made a good faith effort to match
people, when they could, and they hadn’t done anything illegal. A bit
unethical, perhaps. But not illegal.
As their Easter holidays approached, and with it the final push of N.E.W.T.
revision, Peter decided not to worry about it and concentrated on passing his
exams.
 
Remus met Katherine at the library on the night they had agreed for their date.
He hadn’t much of anything planned, since his predilection was simply to spend
time looking at Dark Arts books. Katherine was apparently fascinated by dark
creatures. He supposed it might be imprudent, to date her when she could name
him werewolf without too much trouble, but he reasoned that perhaps she would
not care, given her preoccupation with much nastier specimens.
‘I found a really good resource on yetis, the other day,’ Remus told her
quietly after they had passed Madam Pince. ‘It’s over—’
‘Remus,’ Katherine interrupted. ‘I hope you don’t mind, but I didn’t ask you to
ask me out just so we could be lookin’ at pictures in books, now.’
‘Oh. I see. Well, er, what did you have in mind?’
‘I thought we’d break into Professor Raines’s office,’ she announced matter-of-
factly.
‘Professor Raines’s office?’
‘Well, the classroom, at any rate. All them lovely skeletons and all them
cages. Don’t you think that would be a lot more fun than reading about it?’
‘Katherine, I don’t really think dark creatures are supposed to be fun,’ Remus
said. Of all the classrooms they shouldn’t be in at night, the only one worse
than Defence Against the Dark Arts was Professor Dee’s Potions dungeon.
‘Sure, and are you one of the great Marauders of Gryffindor, or not?’ Katherine
asked haughtily. ‘And here I thought you’d be more than up to the task. But, if
you’re afraid….’
‘I didn’t say I was afraid,’ Remus protested, ‘just that I think your proposal
calls for caution. Professor Raines might be in his office.’
‘Oh, no, he’s never there on Thursday nights.’
Suddenly the timing of their outing became clear to him. ‘You just want someone
you think is reckless enough to help you. Why?’
‘I wouldn’t put it that way,’ Katherine said lightly. ‘’Tis more like…I believe
you have the right adventurous spirit. Would I be wrong in thinking you’re not
above a bit o’rule breaking, now and again?’
‘Katherine, I’m a prefect!’ Remus made his voice appropriately aghast.
‘Right. Which only means ye can keep t’other prefects away, while we’re
figuring out how to get in.’
There was no getting around her. Besides, he had to admit, he knew that Raines
had a particular volume on the properties of natural wards, which would be most
helpful for Remus’s Theory topic, and which he had flatly refused to loan
Remus. It was in the locked case behind Raines’s desk in his classroom. He
sighed. ‘Okay. But I’ll need to get something from the dormitory. Meet me at
the entrance to the DA corridor in twenty minutes.’
 
Twenty minutes later, Remus arrived at the corridor with the Marauders’ Map in
his pocket. He pulled it out, activated it, and looked it over. ‘Okay,’ he said
as he came round the corner to where Katherine waited. ‘The coast is clear.’
‘I wager “Alohomora” will set off an alarm,’ Katherine said, eyeing the door
suspiciously.
‘Count on it.’ Remus reached into his pocket and pulled out a set of wires.
‘What’re those?’ Katherine asked.
‘Muggle tools. Lockpicks.’
‘Ooh! A Muggle thing? Let me see!’ Katherine pulled one of the bent wires out
of Remus’s hand and pored over it. ‘They’re so clever, aren’t they, for all
they don’t have magic.’ She handed it back. ‘So what does it do?’
‘It doesn’t do anyth…well, the bent part lifts the hammer of the lock,’ Remus
explained, ‘when you hold it right. If it’ll work.’
‘Muggles are fascinating. I’m taking Muggle Studies. They never tell you much
of anything interesting. Me cousin is married to a Muggle. I think I’d like
that – I could turn him into a toad if he gave me trouble.’
Remus grimaced, but said nothing. It wouldn’t be his problem. He was beginning
to regret this choice. Her ‘date’ had seemed intellectually stimulating and
very informative; now it was turning into something not so appealing. But he
was committed, at least for a while.
The latch clicked encouragingly, and Remus turned the knob experimentally. The
door creaked and swung inward. He waited.
‘We’re in?’ Katherine asked and began to walk forward.
‘Wait!’ Remus hissed at her. He pulled her down swiftly, using more strength
than he needed. A whole flock of paper birds flew out of the room and flattened
themselves on the opposite wall. Remus stood up and went to look at the pages.
They were all marked ‘Detention!’ in large block letters.
‘I’ve heard of those,’ Katherine breathed reverently. ‘They attach themselves
to the culprit and off they don’t come until you’ve done whatever’s inscribed
on them. Raines is a sadist.’
‘Yup,’ Remus agreed. He lit the tip of his wand and waved it inside the door a
few times. Nothing happened. ‘I think we can go in now. But be careful.’
The creepiness of the room by day was only enhanced in the gloom of night. High
windows illuminated the desks with long, narrow streaks of starlight. The
locked bookcases around the edges of the room disappeared into shadows. Cages,
draped in cloth, rattled ominously. Skeletons of creatures large and legendary
hung or stood on frames all around the room.
‘Remus, what’s the strangest place you’ve ever done it, then?’ Katherine asked
him.
‘Hm? Oh…well, broomback, I guess,’ Remus told her. ‘Unless you count over the
Floo. Or…er,’ he stopped.
‘Or?’
‘Filch’s torture chamber.’ He blushed.
‘Really?’ Katherine sounded impressed.
‘Long story,’ he said with a shrug. ‘Not...with Filch, of course.’
‘I should hope not. Though, ’twould be a sight.’ She sat on one of the desks,
swinging her legs slightly. ‘I were in a graveyard with Patrick Finnegan last
summer,’ she related dreamily. ‘’Twas a lovely evenin’. We went walkin’ and I
dared him to walk through the graveyard, and he chased me. We laid down in the
fresh-mown grass. I could see some spirits roaming about, but Paddy, he’s a
Muggle, so he couldn’t. I swear I heard a banshee that night, too.’
‘Weren’t you worried about her?’ Remus asked.
‘Oh, no. If you leave them alone, they’ll leave you alone, really. They’re very
sad creatures, really, banshees.’ She poked at one of the skeletons on a frame
near the front of the classroom. ‘Remus?’
‘Hm?’
‘Is it true you’re only attracted to other boys?’
‘Where did you hear that?’ Remus gasped, spinning round to face her hastily.
‘Oh, here and there. I heard about that incident in the prefects’ bath, with
Janice Turpin and Viola Pruning. I didn’t believe it, though. I thought y’only
liked boys.’
‘Right,’ Remus said through clenched teeth. ‘Well, first off, that story about
the bathroom is an exaggeration. I just forgot what day it was and they walked
in on me. And secondly…well, it doesn’t matter. I should have told you
earlier….’ He explained about his bargain with Sirius. ‘I don’t want you to
think I’m cheating, but I also don’t want you to hope I might leave him.’
‘Oh, I see,’ Katherine nodded. ‘Well, that’s all right. Paddy asked me to marry
him before I came back to school, but I told him I wanted to get me education
first. So I guess I’m sort of in the same boat, d’ye see?’
Remus smiled. ‘Yes, I think I do.’
‘Good. In that case, we may as well do what we came here to do.’
‘And what did you come here to do, Miss O’Malley?’ Remus asked playfully. He
moved in toward her perch on the desk.
‘Sure, I came here to shag a werewolf, Mr Lupin,’ she answered prettily.
Remus froze. Even the lop-sided grin he wore in imitation of Sirius’s
“seductive” look checked itself. He stopped breathing for a moment.
Katherine laughed. ‘I’ve been studying dark creatures since I were nine, Remus.
You don’t think I wouldn’t have guessed it long before now? I want this. Right
here. Right now.’ She pulled her skirt up around her knees. ‘Come on and take
me.’
Remus shuddered. He’d never been with anyone who wanted him because he was a
werewolf, and it was a strange, if unexpected, turn-on. Katherine was
completely insane, he decided straight away, but the prospect apparently
appealed to parts of his body, even if his mind told him he should probably be
insulted.
‘How many other…what I mean to say is, do you make a habit of propositioning
vampires and so on?’
Katherine laughed again. ‘Of course not, oh, lord love you, Remus. Where’m I
going to meet any at home? Besides, as denizens of the dark go, you’ve got to
admit, yer far from really all that dangerous.’
Remus had to agree. He closed the distance between them and ran his hands up
her thighs, under her skirt and robes. She pulled him between her legs like an
expert, wrapping her calves behind him and running her hands through his hair
when she kissed him. They snogged a while and Remus let his hands roam freely
around her body – her breasts, her legs, tentatively around her bush.
Immediately he realised she was wearing crotchless knickers.
‘Oh! Yes, that’s the way, love,’ Katherine encouraged him. She leaned back and
shifted her hips almost to the edge of the desk. Remus slipped his fingers
between her labia and rubbed her clit the way he’d learned to do with Lily.
Katherine thrashed against him with enthusiasm. He probed deeper, fingers
sliding into her hot flesh. She collapsed against his shoulder. ‘More,’ she
murmured softly into the skin of his neck.
Remus wanted to comply, really, but he could tell, even without opening his
trousers, that his initial arousal at the thought was fading. He supposed he
could drop to his knees and use his tongue, but the only time he’d ever done
that to anyone was under Sirius’s spell, and despite where he was willing to
apply his tongue on Sirius, he was still strangely squeamish about eating out a
girl. He hesitated, trying to think how to satisfy her.
‘Are ye’all right?’ Katherine asked him when his hands slowed.
Remus jumped. ‘Sorry,’ he muttered, and scissored his fingers inside her.
‘Mm,’ she said. Remus couldn’t tell if that meant something good or bad, but a
moment later she pushed his hand away. ‘Let’s get you ready,’ she continued,
and with a wicked smile up at him, she began to pull his robes aside and undo
his trousers.
‘I—’ Remus protested, covering his fly automatically.
‘What’s wrong?’ Katherine asked, a mixture of worry and exasperation. ‘I
thought you said you liked girls too.’
‘I do!’
‘Just not me, is it?’ she accused sharply.
‘No—I don’t know,’ Remus answered in confusion. ‘Maybe I’m just distracted.
This room, the thought that Raines might find us any minute….’
‘All right,’ Katherine shrugged. ‘Maybe I put too much pressure on you, eh?’
She hiked her skirt up even more, so he could see the red lace peeking out
where it framed her vagina. ‘I’ve got an idea. You’re strong, right?’ Remus
nodded in the half-light. He had no idea what she was leading up to. ‘I’ve been
thinking about that skeleton, over there,’ she pointed to the corner. ‘The
manticore.’
‘What about it?’ Remus asked suspiciously. He wasn’t about to leave evidence
they’d been here.
‘Think it’s real?’
‘Um….’ Remus walked over to the large collection of bones. ‘I think so. Looks
like a preservation spell or something. Pretty neat, actually.’
‘Oh, excellent! Give us a leg bone, then.’
‘What?’
‘Come on… they’re not pinned or anything Muggle like that. Take a look.’
She was right. They were unconnected save by a spell holding the whole
framework in place.
‘What are you going to do with it?’ he asked, a sinking feeling in his stomach.
‘You’ll see.’ She swung her legs and bunched up her skirt around her waist.
‘Come on. Haven’t got all night.’
Remus rolled his eyes. Totally deranged, he decided. He wished Patrick Finnegan
good luck; he’d need it. He studied the skeleton, found a likely tibia bone,
and eased it away from the rest. The bones remained in place, but the one in
his hand pulsed oddly, as if it wanted to rejoin its fellows.
‘I don’t think this is a good idea,’ he warned, bringing the bone back over to
her.
‘’Tis fine, Remus, don’t be such a wee baby,’ Katherine scoffed. She held out
her hand for the bone. Remus gave it over. She squealed with delight, like a
child who has been given a much-coveted doll. ‘So smooth,’ she marvelled. ‘And
that pulse is…heaven. Oh!’ She shuddered and lowered the knob of the knee end
to her groin.
‘Katherine, are you going to do what I think—’ Remus began, but he never
finished his question. Katherine touched the bone to her clit and her eyes
rolled back in her head.
‘Mmm,’ she grunted, and she beckoned him closer. ‘Hold it here,’ she said,
placing Remus’s hand on the haft. ‘That’s it….’ She guided the near end while
Remus dazedly held on. He exerted no force of his own, but he didn’t let go,
either. Katherine worked the knobby end of the bone into herself, slamming the
bulbous portion against her G-spot again and again, letting the long shaft hit
her clit occasionally. ‘Oh, so amazing!’ she kept saying, and ‘’Tis a fair
wonder!’ and less comprehensible things.
Remus felt his grip tightening as she pounded herself more fervently. The bone
virtually throbbed as if alive, and its vibration seemed to jolt all the way up
his arm. He watched her with growing fascination. Finally, after what seemed
far too long to him, she subsided, slowing her movement.
‘Oh, my, I could keep going all night!’ she panted. ‘I need to stop. Felt so
good….’ She pulled the bone out in slow motion, as if unwilling to let it leave
her. It was wet and vaguely pink-tinged.
‘I think you bled on it,’ Remus commented in horror.
‘Mm-hmm,’ Katherine agreed. ‘Worth it,’ she decided.
‘If you say so.’ He cleaned up the bone and brought it back to the skeleton. It
snapped back into place. The whole structure glowed blue for a moment, then
settled back to its normal, ghostly white. Remus thought they were going to be
all right, but just then the skeleton opened its jaw and roared: ‘THIEF!’
Remus gulped. ‘We’d better go,’ he said, backing away to the desk. ‘Are you
ready? I’m sure that was meant for Raines to hear.’
‘Aye, ’twas, I’m certain, but to be honest, I don’t know as I can move just
yet,’ Katherine said. ‘You’d better go.’
‘No, I shan’t leave you in distress, my lady,’ Remus said, not sure why he felt
so gallant. Perhaps it was lingering guilt over his earlier failure to respond.
He rearranged her skirts properly, and threw her over his shoulder in a
fireman’s carry. ‘Where to? And don’t say a graveyard.’
TBC….
***** In which Remus gets pushed too far *****
Thanks to the Marauder’s Map, Remus got Katherine back to her common room
entrance and made his way back to the dormitory without incident. Raines was
apparently livid at being summoned to his classroom in the middle of the night,
but could not identify the interlopers. As a result, he was simply murderous
toward all his classes equally, but this was hardly remarkable.
Slytherin had flattened Ravenclaw in their match, which meant that they would
play Gryffindor for the Cup. The rivalry between the houses manifested in
numerous pranks, with James and Sirius frequent targets. The only neutral zones
seemed to be lessons (everyone was too busy preparing for N.E.W.T.s). Sirius
had jokingly suggested that they should hire tasters at mealtimes, and to
Remus’s chagrin, a few first-years had volunteered adoringly.
Of course, given the arrangement with Dumbledore, there was one Slytherin who
conspicuously avoided any activity toward the two of them: Snape. That did not
mean that he didn’t pick on the other Gryffindor players, nor, James suspected,
that he didn’t have a hand in some of the more creative pranks he and Sirius
fell prey to.
There was one spectacular night when both James and Sirius had unexpectedly
turned green when they opened their ink bottles. They went for two days before
they could change their skin colour, and then it went polka dot for a day
before returning to normal. Then there was the time someone aimed a really
amazing hex at James’s shoes, and he could barely hold still long enough to get
them off. He had to use slippers for a week until his shoes lost their
animation. But the worst was when someone transfigured Sirius’s shampoo into
hair remover, and he came back to dress one morning, bald as a billiard cue.
Even his eyebrows were gone.
‘It’s permanent!’ he railed, turning red with fury at his visage in the mirror.
‘I’m going to kill him!’
‘You’ve no proof,’ Remus said wearily as he dressed.
‘He doesn’t need proof, Moony. Look at him!’ James snapped. ‘It’s obviously
something Snape would do.’
‘I’m not so sure Snape knows what shampoo is, much less how to transfigure it,’
Peter reasoned.
Sirius would be neither placated nor consoled. He was certain Snape had
conceived of, if not helped to execute the plan, and he determined to find out.
Surprising everyone, most of all Remus, Sirius sought out his brother.
‘I’m going with you,’ Remus insisted. ‘Someone has to keep you from knocking
his head in.’
‘What if I did? No loss,’ Sirius growled dangerously.
‘Sirius, think. You don’t want to risk either being barred from your last
Quidditch match or something even worse. Even if he does have it coming to
him.’
Remus fell into step beside Sirius and they went looking for Regulus. It did
not go well. Sirius might have been calm enough to talk to Regulus, but every
person they passed in the corridors laughed or pointed at his bald head. By the
time they reached the entrance to the dungeons near the Slytherin common room,
Sirius was seething again.
‘Lupin! What are you doing with that overgrown baby? Oh, wait...’ a jeering
voice called. ‘Regulus! Didn’t you say Sirius was your older brother? Come take
a look at him now....’ A whole crowd of Slytherins rounded a corner, led by
Nott, the younger Lestrange, Avery, Rosier, and bringing up the rear, Regulus
and Snape. Regulus pushed through the others to smirk at his brother’s
depilated head.
‘Were you looking for me, brother?’ he asked snootily.
Sirius, to Remus’s relief, straightened and said quite calmly. ‘Yes, I was.
Could I have a word?’
‘I’ll give you two, Sirius,’ Regulus answered with an accompanying gesture.
Sirius smiled as if he expected the rudeness. ‘I’d like to talk to you alone,
Reg. Will you talk to me?’
Regulus looked around at his companions. It seemed he was weighing his options,
and that he decided not to talk to his brother would read as a sign of
weakness. ‘All right,’ he accepted with a calculatedly bored expression. He
opened his arm in an invitation to go further into the dungeons. ‘You all go
on; I’ll catch you up.’
The two Blacks walked away, remarkably similar in gait and colouring even
though Sirius lacked hair. The little band of Slytherins sized up Remus,
evidently decided he was not worth the trouble, and continued up the path
toward the entrance hall. Snape shot him a look of pure disgust as he walked
by.
Remus leaned against the wall while he waited for Sirius. He could see the two
talking animatedly through the open door of the empty potions dungeon. He
inched closer to monitor Sirius’s mood.
‘What’s the matter, Lupin? Afraid he’ll get hurt without you to protect him?’
Snape’s voice cut into him.
‘No,’ Remus said, suppressing the urge to knock Snape’s head and be done with
it. ‘Why did you come back – looking out for Regulus?’
Snape ignored the comment. ‘You know, I’ve never been able to work out why you
came back after fifth year. It’s not like anyone would ever hire you. Then
again, I’ve heard that werewolves make credible spies. Training, perhaps, for
your career?’
Remus clenched his teeth. ‘I’m waiting for Sirius,’ he explained as if Snape
had simply mistaken the reason.
‘Like a good little wolf cub?’ Snape shot back venomously. ‘Or…what is that
curious name you call each other…puppy? You think he’ll ever think of you as
less than his lap-dog? His wolfhound he can send on the errands he’s too scared
to do himself?’
Remus snorted. ‘You’ve no idea, have you? Leave it, Snape. You don’t
understand.’
‘I understand more than you think, Lupin,’ Snape said menacingly. ‘I know about
Shacklebolt.’
Remus blinked. ‘So?’
‘Prewett, Shacklebolt, O’Malley, Montgomery, Weasley….I know what you’re
doing.’
Remus’s eyes narrowed. ‘Just what do you think you know?’
‘That ridiculous dating service that cropped up in all the common rooms last
term. It’s you. It’s got your stink all over it. Thought you’d bring in some
cash, did you? And now you’re hiring yourself out all over the school.’ Snape
never raised his voice, but his pace picked up and his rhythm increased in
intensity. ‘How do you think the Headmaster would react to learning that after
all the risks he’s taken for you, you’re abusing his hospitality? How do you
think your precious puppy’ he spat the word, ‘would feel knowing you’re
buggering little boys? What do you think your customers would do if they found
out what you are!’ Snape worked himself up to a triumphant smirk. ‘I was wrong:
you are training for your next career, but it’s not as a spy, is it, Lupin?
You’re just a filthy half-breed whore.’
Remus felt torn between laughing and cursing Snape into next week. It was not
even what Snape had got right or not right; it was the mere fact that he was
still so obsessed with the Marauders, with him. He smiled unkindly.
‘Snape, do you know the difference between a whore, a slut, and a bitch? A
whore will sleep with anyone who pays her. A slut will sleep with anyone. A
bitch will sleep with anyone but you.’
Snape launched himself bodily at Remus, flailing with fists and completely
ignoring his wand. Remus stepped aside swiftly. He dodged most of the assault
and caught Snape’s arm as he passed. Twisting it, Remus pushed Snape up against
the wall. He had just enough time to reflect that their position now was a
mocking mirror-image of when Snape had thought him Felicity before Snape kicked
up and connected between his legs.
Remus staggered backward, breathing hard.
‘You and your filth disgust me!’ Snape snarled. Remus realised that he was
deliberately keeping quiet. This was just between them; he didn’t want company
to help or observe. So be it. ‘As if I would sully myself with the likes of—’
Remus had had enough. He pushed himself forward again, and this time, his hand
found purchase around Snape’s throat. He cut off the other’s insulting tirade
with a squeeze, slammed the back of his head against the stones once to prove
that he could.
‘I’m so sick and tired of your petty battles, Severus,’ he said slowly and
clearly. Snape tried to kick again, but the attempt was feeble. All his
concentration was on just trying to breathe. ‘Just. Leave. Us. Alone.’ Remus
continued. ‘I don’t care what you think. I don’t need to justify myself to you
or to anyone, but I’m going to say this once, and this had better be the end of
it: There is nothing more to what you may have heard or seen than there
appears. It’s none of your business. It’s nothing to do with you, and there’s
nothing going on that’s any sort of danger to anyone, so leave it and go slink
back to whatever slimy hole you crawled out of.’
He eased up on Snape’s neck just enough to make sure the Slytherin wouldn’t
attack him straight away. Snape gasped for breath and scrabbled at Remus’s
hand, but he batted it away and pinned it to the wall above their heads. He was
about to offer Snape a truce so they could break their preposterous pose, when
Snape did something unexpected.
He brought his other hand up to Remus’s wrist around his throat. When Remus
growled in warning, Snape squeezed it tighter.
‘I’m not going to murder you to put you out of your misery,’ Remus told him.
But Snape shook his head, eyes over-bright. He twisted his arm in Remus’s hand,
and Remus tightened his grip and slammed it to the wall again. Snape’s lip
trembled. He tried to push his body off the wall, and Remus pushed back. His
hand automatically tightened around Snape’s throat, and he moved a little
closer for leverage.
And felt it. He’d felt that particular erection before, when he was the one up
against the wall.
Snape must have felt him brush past, too, for he made a desperate, strangled
sound and pulled Remus up against him with his free hand. He pushed his
windpipe into Remus’s hand, trying to recreate the choking sensation. His hips
bucked wantonly against Remus’s pelvis.
Remus let go in horror. ‘You’re sick!’ he whispered, beyond the point of
shouting. ‘You need help, you know that?’
Snape laughed, which came out as a wheezing, coughing mess. It was the only
time Remus had ever heard him laugh, apart from within a group of jeering
Slytherins. ‘Not as much help as you’re going to need. You tried to kill me,’
Snape threatened hoarsely.
‘Of course I didn’t,’ Remus said incredulously. ‘You’re the one who—’
‘Who what, Lupin? Strangled myself on you? Would anyone believe that? I think
not.’ Snape leered malevolently. ‘Of course, if we continue where you left off,
I see no need to tell the Headmaster.’
‘You psychotic bastard,’ Remus muttered. ‘You planned this whole provocation,
didn’t you?’
Snape nodded. ‘Tell the truth, Lupin: that insipid Valentine’s trick: that was
you, wasn’t it? You stole the boomslang skin from Professor Dee and made
Polyjuice Potion. I can prove it, so don’t bother to deny it. Come with me
right now, or I go straight to the Headmaster and tell him you violated the
conditions of our arrangement.’
Remus drew in a ragged breath. He looked back up the corridor to the classroom
where Regulus and Sirius had been talking.
‘Regulus is gone,’ Snape said triumphantly. ‘He hexed your precious Black five
minutes ago, while you were busy defending your honour. Are you coming or not?’
Remus turned and ran to the classroom. Sure enough, Sirius lay on the floor,
quite knocked out. Boils were raised all over his bare scalp. ‘Help me get him
to the hospital wing,’ he said, looking down at his unconscious lover.
‘He’ll be fine,’ Snape said callously. ‘Besides, you don’t want anyone to see
us in the corridors, and I believe neither of you thought to borrow Potter’s
remarkable cloak. Did you?’
Remus seethed to see Snape so clearly enjoying himself. He had Remus cornered,
and he knew it. ‘What the hell do you want, then?’ he asked.
‘I should think that’s obvious,’ Snape answered with infuriating civility.
‘Come along, werewolf.’
‘What happened to “I wouldn’t sully myself” and “Your filth disgusts me”?’
Remus asked, rooted to the spot.
Snape shrugged. ‘I’ll make an exception this time.’ He led the way out of the
classroom and into Slytherin house, barely waiting for Remus to follow.
They passed through the side of a wall (‘The password will be changed tonight,
so don’t even bother,’ Snape said as they came through) and into a room
furnished much like Gryffindor’s, only without as many tapestries, and in green
instead of red. High windows shed light in streams into the room. Snape walked
straight through and up to a tower staircase, again just like Gryffindor’s, but
a bit bigger. They walked up two full circular flights before they passed any
doors leading off, then another three to get to the seventh-years’ dormitory.
It was empty. Snape shut the door behind them and locked it hermetically. ‘Over
there,’ he said, pointing to a far bed by a window. Remus peered out the leaded
glass; they were definitely above ground, but the view was of the other side of
the lake, so it was not the same tower as Gryffindor’s rooms.
‘I still don’t understand. Why me?’ Remus asked with a shake of his head.
‘Because, Lupin, you’re the only one strong enough to do what I want, but not
stupid enough to actually kill me in the process. It’s in your vested interest
not to displease me,’ Snape gloated.
Remus rolled his eyes and turned from the window. Snape stood by the side of
the bed. Remus walked forward and to his horror, his fingers twitched. There
was an undeniable irony in throttling Snape, and knowing that Snape wanted to
be handled roughly.
Snape reached down and lifted Remus’s hands, he placed one around his own neck,
one around his waist. He tilted his head back and his greasy hair brushed
Remus’s fingers as the strands fell away from the back of his head.
Remus squeezed tentatively, then harder as Snape leaned into the macabre
caress. He felt Snape’s hardness press through their robes and Snape bent
backward, pulling them both toward the bed. They collapsed on top of it, Remus
really choking him now, and Snape’s legs kicked in a spasmodic dance. He bucked
against Remus frenetically, and soon Remus found himself pushing back, just as
excited.
He was careful to ease up just enough that Snape could draw uneven, laboured
breaths. Snape thrust his throat into Remus’s cupped hand, and his sheathed
cock into Remus’s spread groin, with a rocking, forceful rhythm. Remus locked
his gaze on Snape’s eyes. The black irises reflected the window panes and told
him nothing, but Snape’s face grew redder and his desperate thrusts came more
quickly. He clenched his teeth and screamed through them with what little air
he had, and Remus felt the heat between them increase. A second later he could
smell Snape’s orgasm. He made to scramble off the bed, but Snape gripped both
hands around him. He eased his hand off Snape’s neck and nudged Snape’s hip to
let him lie to one side. Snape allowed him this revision.
‘You’ll need a high collar tomorrow,’ Remus heard himself say strangely. He
hated to think it, but he could feel his own arousal poking at the fly of his
pants. He told himself it was mainly physical proximity, and perhaps a bit of
wish fulfilment for mock-strangling Snape.
‘No kidding,’ Snape said a minute later when his breathing had slowed.
Remus could have slapped his forehead. Snape nearly always wore high collars.
He wondered if anyone else had done this with him. He decided that was absurd.
‘Are we done?’ he asked instead, perfunctorily.
Snape swivelled his head to meet Remus’s eyes. Remus still could not fathom the
black depths. Snape nodded. ‘We’re done,’ he said, and something about it made
Remus think he didn’t just mean this time, or this activity. There was
something much, much more final to the two simple words.
‘Wait a minute,’ Snape said, sitting up. ‘I’ll have to walk you out or the
others might think you’re unescorted.’
Interesting, Remus thought. So Regulus was Snape’s only accomplice, so far.
Snape walked across the room to a wardrobe and pulled out a fresh robe, then,
to Remus’s surprise, he tapped his wand to a trunk at the foot of another bed,
rummaged for fresh clothes, and tapped the trunk locked again. ‘Stay here,’ he
said before leaving the room.
Remus looked at the trunk at the foot of the bed they had used. It belonged to
Rodolphus Lestrange.
TBC….
***** In which a little excitement goes a long way *****
Chapter Summary
     Bearing the Standard
Remus never told Sirius what had happened. Snape walked him to the common room
entrance and he had gone straight back to Professor Dee’s classroom, where
Sirius was still unconscious. He had revived him and helped him to the hospital
wing.
‘Why didn’t you cover me, Moony?’ Sirius asked on the way.
‘I’m sorry, Sirius; Snape distracted me. We fought and then he ran away. By
then, Regulus had gone.’
Sirius accepted this as the natural order of things, and Remus reasoned it was
close enough to the truth. More importantly, after that, it seemed Snape not
only kept his word, he called off the war against the Gryffindor seventh-year
players.
Two weeks later, on the day of the Quidditch Final, Sirius announced he rather
liked the short hairstyle. It had grown to a bristly half inch or so all
’round, and he claimed that it was more convenient for playing. ‘Doesn’t get in
my way,’ he commented, passing the shave off as if he had planned it all along.
Peter and Remus climbed into the stands to watch the match. ‘Where’s Lily?’
Remus asked.
Peter shrugged. ‘I’m sure she’ll catch us up. Let’s find a place to sit.’
Gideon and Fabian Prewett came by shortly after they found seats.
‘Could we sit with you?’ Gideon asked. ‘We’re supporting Gryffindor,’ he added,
as if that would make a difference.
Remus shrugged and Peter pointed vaguely to the empty spaces to his right. The
twins split, Gideon going to sit next to Remus on the left, and Fabian taking
up the spot Peter had indicated. He asked Peter a few questions about the
camera, and soon they were deep in conversation together.
‘How have you been?’ Remus asked Gideon.
‘All right. Did I tell you that I asked Marcia Huntley out? She said yes.’
‘Good,’ Remus said encouragingly. They had talked about his attraction to her
on their last date.
‘I made a banner,’ Gideon pipped, ‘for today. Do you think you could hold one
end?’
‘Certainly,’ Remus answered. Gideon reached into his bag and pulled out yards
of scarlet fabric. ‘This is gigantic!’ Remus cried as Gideon spread it over
both their laps.
‘Yeah...I wasn’t sure it would be big enough.’
‘Hey, Peter, I think you might get a better angle from down over there,’ Fabian
was saying to Peter. Peter nodded, stood, and ventured down a few rows toward
the Slytherin goal. Fabian slid over on Remus’s other side. ‘Here, I’ll hold
part of that,’ he offered.
The teams flew onto the pitch and took up their positions at the centre. Madam
Hooch released the Snitch and the Bludgers, tossed the Quaffle in the air, and
blew her whistle shrilly. The players kicked off from the ground again, and
Gideon and Fabian held their ends of the banner aloft.
Remus kept his eyes on the match. There was Kingsley, zooming up the pitch
toward a Bludger. James tossed the Quaffle to Frank Longbottom. Sirius slapped
the second Bludger toward the Slytherin goal posts. He sucked his teeth when
Frank narrowly cleared the Slytherin keeper and dumped the Quaffle through the
goal.
Gradually, Remus became aware that Gideon’s hand rested on his leg. He glanced
over, but Gideon’s concentration rested with the players in the air. Remus went
back to the match. A few minutes later, Gryffindor scored another goal. All
three of them jumped up from their seats, brandishing the banner. When they sat
back down, Gideon put his hand on Remus’s inner thigh.
‘Gid--’
‘Shhh,’ Gideon told him. ‘Don’t give it away. Why do you think the banner’s so
big?’ He slid his hand closer to Remus’s crotch.
Fabian leaned in close. ‘Gideon likes to be a bad boy,’ he said directly into
Remus’s ear. ‘He likes people to think that he’s all squeaky-clean, but really,
he’s just a vulgar, indecent little strumpet.’
Remus’s eyes slid to regard Fabian out of his peripheral vision, though his
face remained pointed straight ahead. ‘Are you.... You knew about this?’ he
asked.
‘The noise in the stands is perfect,’ Gideon told him. ‘But if you show it,
it’ll ruin everything.’ He made a show of dropping his quill. As he leaned down
to pick it up, he pulled Remus’s robes over his knees. He sat back on the
bench, concealing the state of Remus’s robes behind the banner.
‘Tell Gideon he’s being too obvious. He’s going to be caught. Of course, that’s
probably what he wants.’
Gideon chuckled. ‘Tell Fabian he’s the one with the dirty mind, Remus. This was
his idea. He’s a sick, sick little fuck.’
‘Little?’ Fabian glared at Gideon across Remus. ‘You’re hardly one to talk.
With that tiny thing you call a penis. Remus, have a feel of this.’ He took
Remus’s hand in his and placed it against his crotch. ‘Now, that’s a proper
cock. One you can really have a wank to.’
Remus had the bizarre feeling of being at centre field in a disturbing
Quidditch match in which he was the Snitch. The brothers accosted him in
tandem, using the banner as a shield. They spoke over him, but as much to him
as to each other.
‘Fabian would go down on you right here, Remus, if you let him.’
‘Gideon wants to sit in your lap, Remus. He wants you to plunge your cock up
into his tight little hole, wants you to fuck him over and over in front of all
these people.’
‘Fabian’s a talented slut. Let him show you what he can do with his tongue. He
could lick you ’til you’re hard and leaking, Fabe could. He’s drooling for it
already, look at him.’
‘Gideon’s about to come in his pants, but he’ll hold himself back for you,
Remus. He’ll hold back and do as he’s told like an obedient little slave. He
likes to be ordered about, our Gideon. Go on, Remus. Tell him how you want him
spread out in front of you. Tell him to stroke himself hard and then wait for
you to give him permission to come. Tell him to spread his perfect, round
cheeks so you can break him open with your cock.’
‘Fabe hasn’t seen your cock, Remus. He doesn’t know how beautiful you are when
you’re fucking someone. Not like I do. But he’s been begging for it for months.
He dreams about your cock up his arse, Remus. He dreams you’ll take him someday
the way you took me. Touch him and see how he’ll shudder at the contact. Just
one brush of your fingers, and he could come all over himself.’
Remus closed his eyes and tried to catch his breath. The double-team act had
him about crazed with various emotions. He was both reviled and incredibly
stimulated by the idea of taking both twins on at the same time. As repulsed by
the concept of incest as he was, he knew how talented Gideon was, and Fabian
gave every indication that he’d be just as incredible. Truth be told, he’d
suspected something back when he first seduced Gideon, from some of the things
he’d said. The confirmation was oddly anticlimactic. Part of him wanted nothing
better than to take them back to the castle right now. Bizarrely, though, part
of him insisted they remain rooted to the spot, because he didn’t want to miss
James and Sirius’s last Quidditch match. And while he wasn’t sure he could
wait, he also felt both aroused and uncomfortable about going forward in such a
public place.
Gideon and Fabian didn’t give him much time to make a choice. Gideon hooked his
foot underneath Remus’s leg and pulled it toward himself. His hand wandered
into Remus’s lap, stroking lightly. His other hand mirrored the motion to
direct Remus’s hand. Fabian dropped to his knees on another pretext and crawled
inside the blanket of the banner. He tucked his legs under the bench and opened
Remus’s fly.
‘Hold the banner over your lap,’ Gideon told him. ‘Fabian’s so eager. Do you
feel his tongue on you already? Is he sucking your prick? Fabian’s a champion
at that.’ He looked down at the bulge under Remus’s robes, visible only from
right next to Remus. ‘Suck him, you slut. Remember that the crowds are looking
elsewhere, there’s enough noise, but they could see you any minute. Does that
excite you, bitch? You like the taste of him, don’t you? And you’re going to
drink him down like wine, aren’t you, because you’re such a dirty, sick little
thing. Are you as hard as you’ve made him? How does it feel? You should see
Remus’s face now, Fabe, you should see how he’s using all his concentration not
to react to what you’re doing to him. Remus, is he driving you mad with that
able tongue?’
Remus nodded, eyes fixed on Sirius as he zoomed around the pitch.
‘You’re driving him mad, Fabian,’ Gideon continued. He inched closer to Remus
and held the banner up a bit higher. ‘You love this, don’t you? Is he using his
hands, Remus? He’s supposed to use his hands, too. He said he wanted to jam his
pudgy fingers up your sweet, pink hole.’
‘Gideon,’ Remus breathed. ‘I think there’s a law against someone your age
talking like that.’
Gideon smiled like the cherub Remus knew he certainly was not. ‘But you like
it, right?’
Fabian sped up his stroke and Remus felt the suction increase a notch. ‘Yes!’
Luckily, Jennifer Tinslow had just caught a spectacular pass from James,
because several people looked over at Remus’s outburst. Peter was still
snapping photos near the barrier.
‘I shouldn’t like this,’ Remus insisted softly. ‘I should not be liking this.’
‘But you do,’ Gideon beamed. ‘I knew you would! You like the thought that
Fabian’s sucking your nuts off right now, and you love that I’m saying all
these things to you and you love knowing that we’re doing it with all these
people around.’
‘Oh, gods,’ Remus breathed. ‘Bugger! Yes, I do.’
Gideon jumped up and clapped his hands, pretending to applaud another
Gryffindor goal. When he sat down again, he said into Remus’s ear, ‘Put your
hands on me, Remus. Stroke me off while my brother’s sucking you.’
Remus closed his eyes and moved his hand. Fabian was close, getting closer. It
took a supreme act of will to keep from bucking his hips on the bench, to not
fuck Fabian’s oh-so-capable mouth. He leaned forward as if entranced by the
Quidditch, holding the banner with one hand so that he could touch Gideon with
the other. He desperately wanted to pet Fabian, to pull him closer, to smooth
back his hair, but he couldn’t call attention to the boy between his legs.
Instead, he imagined that the cock next to his was his own. He leaned into
Fabian’s skilful tongue.
‘So close now,’ Gideon said. ‘If we were alone, I’d take you from behind while
Fabian finished you off. I’d push you forward onto your hands and knees with
Fabe underneath you. I’d scratch my fingers down your back as I slam into you,
over and over. When you come into Fabian’s mouth, you know, he’ll scream.
You’ll feel the hot vibration inside even as you shoot into him.’
Remus whimpered to keep from screaming. Gideon was right. They heard Fabian,
muffled three times by Remus’s cock, their clothes and the banner, and the
surrounding crowd. Remus shuddered and could barely keep from jerking forward
off the bench. Fabian dislodged his lips from around his spent prick. He felt a
few warm licks, then Fabian’s dry hands rearranging his fly. He ducked down
into the stands, in an empty spot below them, and emerged near the barrier a
few seconds later. He began to chat merrily with Peter as if nothing had
happened.
Gideon sighed. ‘Fabe’s not much of one for afterglow,’ he said, sounding
wistful. ‘Don’t stop, Remus. Do me, quick, before they catch the Snitch.’ He
pointed to the left corner of the pitch, where both Seekers dove for the tiny
golden ball.
Remus cupped Gideon’s testicles and squeezed a bit. He stroked quickly, fisting
around Gideon’s thin shaft under his robes. He pulled desperately, fighting to
keep his rhythm strong, his eyes on the pitch, and his posture straight. So
frenzied was his effort that he had to stop himself for fear of hurting Gideon.
‘I can’t, I’m--’
‘Yes! Yes!’ Gideon cried, stamping his feet. Remus could see a wet spot forming
against Gideon’s robes, but Gideon leapt up with the banner. ‘Gryffindor won
the cup!’
‘Sit down and clean yourself up!’ Remus said, pulling Gideon down by his arm.
And then, ‘Gryffindor won!’ he shouted with elation. He grabbed the banner and
waved it like a madman.
‘Gryffindor won!’ Peter whooped and ran back to them from the barrier, Fabian
in tow. They jumped around in the stands, celebrating.
‘There’ll be a party tonight, that’s for sure!’ Peter bellowed triumphantly.
‘And will that party include any Magical Matchmaking?’ a voice said next to
them. Peter and Remus both turned guiltily.
‘What?’
‘I said, will that party include any Magical Matchmaking?’ Sarah Derwent asked
imperiously. She was with Veronica Seton at the head of a whole group of girls
from the upper classes, from all four houses. ‘We know the truth, Pettigrew,
Lupin. We want to know why we haven’t got dates through your service, when
others have been matched. We want to know why you decided to meddle. And most
of all, we want to know what you intend to do to make it up to us.’
 
To Be Concluded....
***** In which the Marauders settle the score *****
Chapter Summary
     A Grand Charade
Remus and Peter stared at the group of young women. ‘What sort of proof?’ Remus
asked warily.
Jessica Mountworth, a Gryffindor seventh-year, held up a sheaf of parchment.
‘Lily accidentally let slip to Jill Abbott that Magical Matchmakers had gone
out of business. I don’t know how she’d have known that without knowing them
personally. And Melinda Hinsdale has been telling everyone for weeks she
thought the whole thing was a hoax. Isn’t it true that you’ve been suddenly
dating a few new people? You and Sirius are still together, though, right? Now
what would have possessed you to go looking for dates when you have him? So I
went and looked, just now while everyone was here at the match. I found these
letters in your dormitory.’ She brandished the parchment.
Veronica Seton chimed in. ‘So what are you going to do about it?’
Peter held up both hands. ‘We’ve just won the cup. There will be a party in the
tower for sure. Come at six o’clock and we’ll let you in and we can talk about
it.’
‘All right, but we’re warning you. We demand either satisfaction or our money
back.’
Peter assured them all would be well and they trooped away. He turned to Remus.
‘I have a plan, but we’ll need help.’
Remus invited Gideon and Fabian, and they all left the stands to find James and
Sirius and congratulate them. Then Peter drew them aside and explained the
situation as they walked back to the changing rooms. Lily found them there,
panting, saying she had just found out that the girls knew, and had left the
match to try to keep them out, but was too late.
‘I just ran back down here. I couldn’t stop them. I’m so sorry!’ she said.
‘It’s okay, Lil,’ James and Remus both said together. ‘I guess we didn’t cover
our tracks nearly as well as usual,’ Remus continued.
‘Meanwhile, I have an idea about giving them their satisfaction,’ Peter said,
taking charge. ‘Sirius, I need you to go get several bottles of Old Ogden’s.’
‘Right!’
‘You’re going to get them drunk?’ Remus asked, frowning.
‘I’m going to get everybody drunk. James, can you sneak down to the greenhouses
and get some dreamswort?’
‘Probably,’ James answered.
‘Excellent. Remus, we’re cutting your hair.’
 
At six o’clock, the young women arrived at the party. By then, everyone else
was so cheerful, they didn’t notice the additional people. Peter brought out
the whiskey and began doling it out to people a thimbleful at a time. They had
slipped down to the kitchens for food, but were careful that it would not
interfere with their plans. Remus pulled Bill Weasley aside and enlisted him as
well. The two of them slipped upstairs to the remainder of the bottled and
corked Polyjuice Potion.
‘Are you sure this will work?’ Bill asked Remus.
‘I hope so. We’ve spent the money for supplies for another project. Besides,
Peter wants to get rid of it. It’s too big a liability.’
They brought the bottles into the bedroom and Remus took out the packet of his
hair, clipped earlier that afternoon. They came back down to the common room.
Peter saw them and poured fresh shots of Firewhiskey for anyone who wanted it.
Then James drew the girls aside.
‘Look, it’s not that we didn’t try to match you up, truly,’ he said, Lily at
his side. ‘But honestly, did you really think you’d get anywhere asking for
Remus?’
Sarah crossed her arms. ‘That’s hardly the point. What you were doing is wrong,
and I’m sure it’s against the school rules.’
‘Well, if it’s so wrong, why did you send in your letters?’ Lily asked. ‘Are
you all seriously saying you’re going to try to get the boys in trouble unless
Remus sleeps with you?’
They looked at one another and a few might have backed down, but Sarah,
Jessica, and Veronica all glared at the others. ‘Yes,’ they said as one.
Lily sighed. ‘Very well. Have another drink. Stay here and we’ll see what we
can do.’
She and James came over to Remus, who motioned to Peter, Sirius, Bill, and the
Prewetts.
‘They wouldn’t back down,’ James reported. ‘Everyone ready?’
‘Yeah.’
‘Okay. The supply will be here. Lily will stay with it to make sure no one
drinks it by accident, and to make sure that you take extra doses when you need
it.’
Sirius climbed up on a table and began a raucous, raunchy song to distract
everyone while Bill, Gideon, Fabian, and Peter each took gulps of Polyjuice
Potion laced with Remus’s hair. One by one, along with Remus himself, they
slipped back to the crowd to clap and jeer at Sirius’s horrible fabliaux. Each
one positioned himself near one of the girls who insisted on a chance with
Remus.
The impostors and the real Remus drew each girl into a comfortable embrace,
smiling at their chosen partner. When the five girls saw that Remus had come up
to them, they smiled back, never looking around to notice their friends in the
same position.
The party continued around them. The Remuses waited until the younger students
tired and went to bed, but as the older ones drank, their contact became freer.
James dimmed the lights for mood (and easier concealment of identity), and
Bill, Gideon, Fabian, and Peter snuck back to Lily periodically to take
additional drams of the potion.
Around nine, James brought out the dreamswort. They smoked it and Remus
experienced a variant of the effects he had felt over the holidays when he and
Sirius spent the evening with Ted and Andromeda Tonks. Instead of simple
intoxication, however, the dreamswort influenced the subconscious and lowered
inhibitions. In combination with the whiskey, James anticipated things would
become rather cosy that evening.
The impostors took another dose of Polyjuice. One of them judged it time to get
busy. He slid his hands under Veronica’s jumper, running a finger along the
edge of her bra. James came over to Lily and sat her in his lap. A few other
couples followed their example. Pairs of students soon draped over every
available chair or sofa in the room. Remus number two or three ran his hands
through Jessica’s hair. Remus mark four or five began tonguing with Sarah.
Sirius, Frank, and Marina started up a threesome under the table.
It was the threesome that really started things getting even stranger. Remus
and Jill fell off their sofa and rolled close to the three of them, and Remus
paused to kiss Sirius before he returned to Jill. Jill crawled forward and
petted Sirius and Frank pulled her into the pile. Remus stayed as well. Soon,
Remus and Veronica joined the collection of limbs, and so did Remus and Sarah,
Remus and Jessica, James and Lily, and Remus and Beatrice. All fifteen of them
groped with hands, feet, tongues and lips. Soon it didn’t matter who was
kissing, who was caressing. Everything was simple sensation, and sensation was
good.
They became aware of others on the periphery, watching, wanking, or petting the
odd limb that protruded from the pile. Almost anyone in Gryffindor and still
awake made some contact with the throng of people, all writhing together.
Someone brushed Remus’s leg. He looked down at Bill Weasley, grinning lop-
sidedly at him. Bill turned away and kissed Frank Longbottom’s bare back. Remus
stroked Bill’s hip, then returned to Jessica’s throat, nibbling little bites
that made her shudder down into her legs. He felt someone caress his buttocks
and leaned into the touch. A third person rubbed his legs with a foot; a fourth
pressed a hand to his neck and massaged sensually. Someone else tugged at his
shirt and he lifted his arms to allow the garment to be pulled over his head.
He saw Peter, on the other end of the pile, easing a pair of knickers off one
of the girls, and reflected that Sirius and Peter were geniuses for starting
this mass of activity before the Polyjuice ran out and wore off completely; the
girls would have no idea when their date with “Remus” ended and the orgy began.
He flailed out with one hand and it closed on someone’s shoulder. Fabian
Prewett, he believed, from the shape. He inched closer to include him in his
menage with Jessica and gradually drew apart from them once they were engaged
together. He picked his way around the group, patting an exposed hip here,
smoothing the hair on someone’s arm there, until he reached Peter. He was
engulfed in Veronica Seton’s cunt, and Sirius was right: her bush was shaved in
a perfect heart shape. She undulated beneath Peter’s facile tongue, squeezing
the buttocks of the people on either side of her. James’s right hand was on her
left breast; Sirius’s hand cupped her right. Remus leaned across them to pet
Sirius’s head.
‘Hey,’ Sirius said, looking up from the breast he was sucking.
‘Hey.’ Remus smiled back. He sidled in between Sirius and Marina and put his
hand down between Sirius’s legs. Sirius hummed in pleasure. He ruffled Remus’s
hair as he bent his head back to Marina’s nipple. Marina pointed her toes,
whispering to Sirius to bite more. She thrust one leg between Remus’s knees and
ground up against his balls.
More hands came at him from the side. Remus closed his eyes and simply enjoyed
being touched, without worrying who was doing what. He cupped Sirius’s shaft in
his hand and pumped lazily even as he rubbed himself against Marina’s knee. The
world narrowed to hands, mouths, skin and tongues. Somehow he slid down between
the two and he brought Sirius’s prick to his mouth. He felt someone else do the
same to his cock, and bent his hips toward the unidentified partner. The mouth
licked and sucked at him and then was replaced by another mouth - a different
mouth. Different hands squeezed his balls. Sirius came in his mouth, and he
leaned back against Marina’s thigh to find that she had moved away; it was
someone else’s thigh. He felt the push of a finger against his arsehole and
relaxed his muscle to assist. The mouth around him changed again, and this
time, he could tell it belonged to James.
A second finger joined the first up his arse. Remus reached out blindly and his
hands struck someone’s breast, someone’s cock. He stroked both. A set of lips
kissed its way across his chest. He was twisted to one side, sitting in the
palm of the hand fucking him, and James spread his legs apart for better
access. The lips closed on his nipple, and another set clamped on his other
one. He tried to count the number of people touching him, and could not get
past four before he shook with sensation. James did that thing he did with the
tip of his tongue and his slit, and he dropped off the precipice. His abdomen
muscles contracted and all his limbs jerked into the air as he came.
He collapsed on the floor as his orgasm passed. He could dimly feel the hand
retreat from his perineum, but he could not tell the moment when. He heard a
few others moan deeply or give other signs that they, too, found release within
the group. But before he could try to figure out who, he fell asleep in the
afterglow.
When he woke up, a blanket covered him and Sirius lay to his left, James to his
right. He craned his head to look around. In the rust-coloured firelight, he
saw Lily’s head near James’s, her hand curled loosely around the waist of
Fabian Prewett. Bill’s red hair looked almost orange in the light, while Lily’s
looked deep auburn in the shadows. Peter, Jessica, and Frank lay in a jumble,
Peter’s foot resting lightly on Sirius’s leg. A few quiet snores echoed in the
otherwise empty room.
He didn’t remember anyone leaving. He didn’t remember falling asleep, or when
the others curled up around him, or when the blankets arrived or the house-
elves cleaned up the detritus of the party. He didn’t know if they had left
happy and satisfied, or ashamed and angry. He looked around at people whom he
trusted, loved, and had loved. Tonight he was surrounded by other beings whose
smells and sounds and sensations were fundamentally right. He was sated, and he
was among a group who, under other circumstances, were the very thing he had
searched for all his young life. They were lovers. They were friends. But more
importantly to Remus, they were pack. And unlike other times, when James,
Peter, and Sirius stayed with him in Animagus form, their journey this year had
brought them to pile together this way in human shape, as well. Remus felt safe
and among family to a greater extent than he had ever known home. Tomorrow,
there would probably be more consequences to their actions. But tonight, he had
his pack.
 
End
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