I watch you reading your newspaper with your elegant head bowed and your usually pallid cheeks a flush. No doubt you're thinking about the night we just spent together. Every thought is drawn to you irritably; everything about you is crawling with secrecy. What is it that you hide from me? Why do you insist on being silent?
"Remus...I want to have a conversation with you." As the words escape my lips, I
realise how mechanical they sound. My voice had a new corrugated tint to it since I escaped from Azkaban. Remus used to describe my voice as musical and smooth like a cello. Now it was husky and dry; the product of years spent alone in a cell.
Moony scratched his head, rubbed his nose and looked up at me blinking more than was natural. "Err...Of course, what do you want to talk about?"
I swallowed. I couldn't think of anything. I just wanted to stop thinking about him. By talking to him, perhaps our minds could be diverted to other planes of thought. I grabbed the first thing that caught my attention.
"Tea: what's your bloody obsession with tea?"
Lupin swallowed and eyed me with mild surprise. "I really don't know much about tea...Except that I would probably go mad without it..."
He smiled dryly and returned to his newspaper. There he goes back to his superior knowledge of tea drinking.
"Well...why do you like it? Isn't it a particularly...weird thing to do?" I said, glaring at the whistling kettle.
"I...well...I don't suppose so. Really, you must try a cup - see for yourself..."
"I know what tea tastes like." I retorted and couldn't help adding, "You don't need to patronise me!"
He didn't even look up this time, but I could feel him flinch behind that bloody newspaper. He turned over the next page and said with a small hint of amusement,
"You wouldn't mind if you passed me the kettle would you? Or maybe even pour hot water into the mug for me?"
I stood stiffly by the kettle. In that moment in time, that shiny, silver, whistling thing seemed to be enemy of my existence. It was greater than a leering dementor, the threat of an all-powerful Voldemort, it was even worse than my mother. I caught my reflection in the shoulder of the appliance and frowned at it. It would be impolite not to pour it but it would look weak if I did. Just because I bent down before him in bed didn't mean he could turn me into some house wife. After seconds of uneasy deliberation, I poured it anyway.
"Two sugars please..."
I stirred his tea for him vigorously, spilling the dull coloured beverage over the rim. I flung out the tea bag and plunged in the milk following it with two cubes of sugar. I could sense his neck tense from behind the newspaper, feeling a vague, guilty satisfaction that he was being irritated. I sat down opposite the fellow and grabbed the newspaper from his clutches.
"Tea's done!" I chimed, shoving it in front of him and turning to the half-finished crossword.
He thanked me but telling from his forced grin, only did so with an effort. I wanted to desperately fill the silences, the silences were always the worst thing...They lasted for hours, always making me yearn for some giant release that would never come. Sometimes Remus would read to discourage conversation, sometimes I would pretend I was looking at something. Yet there was always the urge to talk to each other, to make conversation as if it was our duty, a necessity and some large debt to each other. We were great friends at school; surely there would be something to talk about? Yet whenever either of us even attempted a conversation it fell flat.
"Dull weather today, isn't it?'
I looked towards the rain-flecked windows: grey and monotonous as usual.
'Yeah...'
Another long silence passed.
I blinked, blinked again and blinked a third time for good measure and tried to figure out how Remus Lupin had changed. He had the same passive expression, school-boy (though a little longer at the sides) hair cut, the usual dry grin and yet something was odd. He looked different; he had lost the bright shine in his eyes that had been so dominant in his youth. At first when I heard Remus would be moving in with me I was pleased, believing that somehow he would be willing to help me sneak out of the house. Yet I should have known; as a student Remus was always the one who was more prone to following rules. Suddenly something struck me; Remus Lupin had never been interesting. Kind, pleasant but dull as hippogriff droppings. I always wanted to be friends with a werewolf because I thought it would be cool; Remus was the opposite. He was the mild mannered, courteous, moth-eaten type who was likely to end up as a Professor. A Professor. He HAD BEEN a Professor. I shuddered at the shameful thought.
My mind fled anxiously to Harry...I suddenly felt a strong urge to be with him, to watch him fly, to see him start fights and break rules. My heart suddenly lurched and the ever-conscious yearning in my stomach grew fiercer.
'Might feed Buckbeak...Ran out of rats. Think we could feed him Kreacher?'
I almost grimaced as I saw the inevitable look of disapproval cross his face. It was his, 'don't you remember what Dumbledore told you?' expression that I wanted to kill.
Harry...Harry...Harry... Suddenly he was all I could think about. Harry in quidditch uniform, Harry catching the snitch, Harry hanging Snape upside down from a tree... Then Harry turned into James; James laughing carelessly as he flew swiftly over the Quidditch Pitch, James sitting absorbed in detention meticulously planning the Marauders map, James holding a baby, scarless Harry at the christening and entrusting me with the role of godfather. I bit the thoughts back. I knew what would be coming next. Soon James was lying sprawled and lifeless in the blue-dark room, his brown eyes half open, stiff with death. The room turned into a dark, stink-ridden cell and all I could see was an eternal darkness and the look of betrayal in his once-vibrant face.
"I need a drink."
"Sirius...You really shouldn't..."
"Oh, and it's all right for you to take drinks in the middle of the night? Don't pretend as if you don't. I've heard you...It's my house and I can do whatever I want in it!" I could feel myself shaking with indignant fury.
I remembered the night before and the countless nights previously that we spent loving each other. We refuse to sleep in the same bed. Lupin goes straight to his room after he has done with me, even though I'm the one left with the limp in the morning.
I hate him for making me desire him. I sweetly ache for him, desperate for him to enter me, touch me and stroke my hair like he used to beneath the mottled elm of sun-gold days. It's in his arms that I tend to forget the world; I forget about hatred and duty and Azkaban, it's here that I seek solace in Remus Lupin, knowing somehow he's only doing this because he was half-told by Dumbledore to make my stay 'more lively'. I would like to think he's lost too. As he climaxes into me, and his warmth softens a deep part of me, I feel something shudder within him, a slither of accomplishment that forgets me. He then falls, sheened with sweat, beside me on the pillow. By the moonlight, he looks at me almost desperately... trying to find something in me that I can't give him. When I can't deliver, serve him, he kisses me on the lips, his special kiss, and then heads towards the drinks cabinet in the next room. It's as if he can't even share the same bed with me for long.
The irresistible warmth of acceptance, of need, of happiness that gloved me just moments before, turns to dejection and alienation. I hear the glass tankers clink in the distance, no doubt aiming for a quick firewhiskey to send him off to sleep. He may as well tell me he's unsatisfied, that I'm unsatisfying, that I'm rubbish in bed and that I should accept that I'm a failure. I'm a failure. In those lonely pockets of silence, save for the soft chime of glass on glass, I have never felt so alone.
Relief suddenly came when a torn portrait in the kitchen suddenly stirred with an extravagantly clad figure in satin and old lace. Phineas Nigellus emerged from his frame looking thoroughly bored as usual. His fake yawn swept through the kitchen and gracefully he turned to Remus and addressed him in his usual indifferent drawl, "Dumbledore informs you that Snape has concocted your monthly potion and it is ready for collection. Await his arrival in about five minutes.
Remus looked paler than usual and nodded.
The anticipation of Snape suddenly cheered my spirits. Now there was a diversion from boredom. "Can't we tie him up, humiliate him and then slap him with a wet fish?"
Remus looked thoughtful for a moment as if he was contemplating the idea very seriously. "As much as I would like to..." he then seemed to snap put of this dream and said, "No. Isn't he allergic to fish?"
"He's allergic to all foods that normal people eat..."
I looked up at Remus, who was looking more reluctant than usual to Snape's visit, fiddled with his dressing gown cuffs nervously.
Remus drained his cup of tea and leisurely ate a piece of toast. Yet there was something apprehensive about his nature; he was suddenly pale and jittery as if he was dreading something. As expected, Snape rudely swept through the backdoor moments later, without knocking, and stood rigidly in front of Moony with an intense, calculating stare.
"Hurry up Lupin. You no doubt received my letter and thus have followed my instructions..?"
"Yes, Severus." Remus was eyeing the steaming cauldron of with resigned glumness.
"Good. I don't wish to spend anymore time here than is necessary." He glanced round the kitchen with a heavy distaste. He suddenly turned to me with efficient, swiftness and said softly, "Ah...I see you've still not improved on the cleanliness of this place. However, Lupin and you are probably used to living in such filthy squalor..."
He curled his upper lip in his usual patronising manner. He only seemed to have limited facial expressions; smirking, sneering and looking as unpleasant as possible. Everything about him was positively ugly, to the thick grime of his unwashed hair to the strange, pallid green tint to his skin.
I growled and curled my fingers round the end of my wand. Before I could retort and hex that slimy bastard, Remus jumped and said hurriedly, "err...Sorry to ask you this Sirius...Can you, erm, leave me and Snape alone?"
I narrowed my eyes; could Remus be serious? Were they plotting something? What if it involved Harry? It wouldn't be the first time they were trying to hide information from me. Snape was always having his private talks with other Order members. Yet the deep, almost sorrowful sincerity with which Remus's eyes gazed at me, told me that this was something I wouldn't be able to argue.
I sighed with exasperation. Yet again I would be left in the dark.
"I'll be outside...snuffling."
"Don't leave the--"
"--garden. I know Remus. You've told me a million times as has Dumbledore, Molly and everyone else.'
Sometimes I think they wish I was dead. They look at me with that dry, concealed pity. Pity: a most terrible word. I would rather be tortured and made to walk on hot coals than pitied. And there was Remus Lupin, outcast-misunderstood-Lupin, pitying me! Just because I'm scarred and ugly and a failure, just because I have suffered more than he has, just because I'm-- I'm only a shadow, a wisp of what I used to be! At least if I died, I would finally go to heaven and see James again. I could just imagine him standing there to greet me, laughing like old times and at last, after years of wasted misery, I could tell him how sorry I am, tell him how much I love his son and how brave and strong he has grown up to be... We'd be together again and it would put an end to such a droning life.
I transformed into my dog form and left the kitchen. Yet instead of Remus and Snape remaining in the kitchen with the cauldron, they headed for an upstairs room, leaving the cauldron full of the Wolfsbane potion to distill on the table. What were they up to? My tail thumped the ground pensively and waiting for a couple of moments, I padded up the stairs as silently as I could. Snape's low, waspish voice trailed from a room in the far corner and Remus was speaking quietly. No one ever used that room often and as I crept down the long hallway, I halted at the room entrance.
I watched through the crack of the door. Severus was looking unpleasant, though more uneasy than usual, while Remus was pale and sombre. The grease ball held a steaming goblet of an unknown substance, examined it, set it down and gave a small nod. Remus feebly kicked his slippers off, undid the sash of his dressing gown and let the whole garment slip to the floor. I could tell Snape was trying to look indifferent, but his eyes darted uneasily about the room. The ceiling, the floor, the bare delta of flesh from Lupin's neck...
What in Merlin's name was going on here? Remus slipped off his dark blue pin-stripe pyjamas, revealing his comfy undergarments. He stood wavering a moment before he turned to take them off. Snape turned too, but once they were removed, he twisted back to be faced with the naked, and rather alluring back of Remus Lupin. He suddenly looked unnerved and flustered but finally mustered the courage to touch Remus's shoulder and make him turn round. They stood uneasily for a few seconds. He dragged a long bony finger thoughtfully across the plain of skin from Lupin's chest to his abdomen. Remus seemed to be concentrating on controlling his breathing. His eyes were shut as Snape's hands drifted lower. I stiffened, half-horrified, half-intrigued. This was too horrible to watch, too despicable, why was Lupin letting Snape do this to him? Snape seemed to shake his head and Remus looked confused. He motioned to the chair. He sat down on it, looking at Snape carefully and raised his eyebrows as if to suggest, 'this all right for you?' Remus shut his eyes and leant his head back as Snape knelt before him, spread open his legs and...
I couldn't deal with this anymore. I barked and burst through the door furiously snapping at Snape. Remus was shocked and thoroughly embarrassed as he lunged for his robes and covered himself up. Snape fumbled for his wand, lashing at my head and kicking me away from him. A hard blow came to my neck and I was thrown across the room, sprawled in agony. My tail limply curled back and forth on the carpet. Snape's wand was pointed firmly at my head, and I turned back into my human form, panting and glaring furiously at him.
That dog-kicking bastard. I could have gnarled his leg off.
"What the fuck do you think you're doing? How dare you use my house to- to-- take advantage of my friend! You're disgusting, you pervert! Just 'cos you make the potion doesn't mean you can play your filthy games with him... I will not tolerate this!" I tried to think of the worst insult I could muster but increasingly feeling I was losing momentum I shouted, 'I'm going to kill you!"
I lunged from my spot on the floor and wrestled a rather stunned Snape to the carpet. He consequently dug his nails into my hair and called me an uncivilised, flea-ridden brute.
"You've got the wrong idea..." Remus urged and then he said a little louder, "Sirius! He's not taking advantage of me!"
I paused confused. 'You mean you and him, you and Snape, you and the disgusting grease ball... have been? I don't believe it...He's dr-drugged you! Poisoned you...Look at him. No one could like such a foul, greasy thing as him!'
'It's because of the Wolfsbane potion.' he said calmly.
'When did the Wolfsbane Potion ever include you getting naked?" I was infuriated. "Really...I would have expected such vile, perverted behaviour from Snape but for you to lower yourself...'
I spat on the carpet and glared at Remus with horror.
At this, Remus looked apologetic and glanced at Snape with embarrassment, as if this was his cue to do the explaining.
"There have been some strange...side effects."
Releasing my grip on Snape's neck, I stood up and brushed myself off. Snivellus did the same and we immediately fled to the opposite sides of the room, disgusted by the physical contact we had just made. I checked my sleeves and hands for grease and he looked positively discomposed, as if he hadn't been touched by anyone for a very long time.
"Ever since your...boyfriend..." at this Severus smirked and continued, "has been...indulging in sexual acts...he has been having problems with his potion.
It appears that he seems to be suffering from insomnia, sex addiction and odd markings on his genitals."
I looked at Remus bewildered, "Is this true?"
He nodded uneasily. "I didn't want to put you off...especially when I'm so desperate to..."
'We don't need details, Lupin!' snapped Snape. "To counteract these effects, I must examine Lupin thoroughly, especially round the more sensitive areas. I assure you that I take no pleasure out of this menial and contemptible task."
I still didn't trust him. He had spent too long on the examination; he wanted to get a clear and ludicrous view of his body. Remus wasn't bad looking by any means; he had a thin, starved beauty to his soft, though somewhat angular, face. He was handsome in a dry, husky way but also welcoming to anyone who looked at him. I found myself staring at the highly embarrassed Remus who was hurriedly attempting to put on his dressing gown again.
"Erm..." Remus said nervously, "Will you let me and Snape get on with this examination?"
"Yes... all right..." I stomped out of the room and banged the door shut.
***
Three hours later Remus came out of the room dishevelled and starry eyed.
"Examination's done!" he said brightly, tapping the kettle with his wand, wishing me good afternoon and grabbing a book from the sideboard.
I squinted at him, seeing if there were any bite marks on his neck. When I found none, I asked him what he diagnosed.
"Well, I have to take this..." he held up a potion that glittered with a deep, gold shine.
"You know... we don't have to do it at all...I don't need your pity, Remus."
Remus looked thoroughly shocked, 'Is that the only reason you think I'm...I'm...'
"Just say it Remus, having sex with me. I know it's only because you think I'm deprived and lonely."
Remus took a sip from the potion and made his, 'mm...strawberries' face. He sighed, put the conical flask down and sat in front of me with a serious, sincere expression. I leaned back further in my chair, avoiding his tender eyes.
"Sirius, I am not the sort of person to sleep around at the whim or order of an official. I chose you as my lover because as hard as it might strike you, part of me is attracted to you."
I shrugged my shoulders and slumped against the back of the chair moodily. I grabbed the newspaper and solved several words for the crossword puzzle. I still didn't believe him. I couldn't when I was so weak and broken now. I could feel Remus looking over me. I would refuse to glance back.
"Sirius..." he demurred, setting his book down, in a serious tone, "Are you bored?"
Do wizards use wands for magic? Of course I was bloody bored. "You know, staring into space, sitting around doing nothing, oh, and maybe doing a spot of cleaning...all invigorating and super exciting... I'm very pleased and happy... Did you know there are precisely twenty-three different types of dust particle? Oh yes, there's the type that swivels, the extra fuzzy type, the sort that does little cartwheels, oh and even the--"
A small grin appeared over Lupin's face, "I get the point. Come here. Come closer..."
I was close to whimpering and did as I was told. Remus moved nearer, only experiencing a faint brush, a light zephyr of breath against my lips before he kissed me. His fingers curled round the back of my head, so secure, so real, so gentle and graceful. Suddenly forgetting what was making me unhappy, I kissed him back. It was odd kissing Remus; it wasn't like kissing at all. It was like being carried back to the past, to a time that was devoid of all that had been and passed. His scent, his mouth, his warmth was somewhat reminiscent of the times we had spent together as students, in the fresh fields and the crisp orchards.
"Remus, please don't make me fall in love with you..." A feeble honest confession. My heart throbbed in my throat, my knees felt weak; all I wanted to do was lose myself in him. He and Harry were all I had of the past. This sweet, caring angel with greying hairs and worn skin was my only lover. I shut my eyes, squeezing the thought back.
"You won't, Sirius..." Hands ruffling my collar, warm and soft like feathers. I bit his knee and rested my head on the inside of his thigh. We seemed to have moved further apart since Azkaban. He was a keepsake of the past but also a reminder of how much things had changed.
"What would James think?"
"James? Oh, I fancy that he would mock us till there was no tomorrow and then congratulate us on finding two people so utterly incompatible for each other. He would then grin widely, shake our hands in genuine amazement and wish us well in the future. He always was too much of an egotist to care much for other people's relationships...'
I was surprised to find tears forming in my eyes. I tried to force them back, but their sting made them impossible to conceal. He was completely right, as usual. I longed with all my being to see James again and yet, in my degraded, feeble form, I couldn't bare the idea of him seeing me as I am now.
"I'm sorry...I'm sorry..." I couldn't help saying. A chasm of overwhelming guilt possessed me; it was constantly yearning, this insatiable empty feeling. In my kneeling, degrading position, I found myself crying into his lap.
"Sorry for what?" Remus said, looking even more uneasy than before. Crying when you were a grown man was always an awkward thing to deal with, even for the most compassionate of men.
I eyed the damp stain on his robes remorsefully. "For wetting your robes."
"I wouldn't worry about it... It's all right... Everything will be fine."
"No it's not. Your robes are worn enough already without my idiotic tears on them."
"They needed a wash anyway..." he said with a small, nervous laugh.
Instantly I felt a surge of anger penetrate me. I hated this and everything. I hated Remus Lupin for being there and watching me in my weakness, Harry for not being with me, Dumbledore for keeping me in this detested asylum. I grew hot and cold, shuddering at each sob, feeling Remus hold me tighter and wishing that he wouldn't...
'Kiss me...' I murmured.
I gripped him tight, lowering him onto the stone floor. The fire roared and flamed behind us, spitting out little, white-hot cinders as we fell into a tight, eager embrace. Remus's hands trembled timidly over my robe collar, his body convulsing slightly as he trailed his fingertips through my hair and clothes. His small, wet kisses traced my throat tenderly, tracing my suffering, my pain and sin while I clasped onto him childishly on the verge of whimpering. This was the only communication we could afford and understand. I never knew who Remus dreamt about when he made love to me. Perhaps it was some man who he conjured in his mind, some past lover or a stranger he passed by in the street wishing it was them instead of me. Yet whomever he dreamt of, it wasn't me. It couldn't have been me with my starved, washed up self; for I was Sirius Black, the once-great wizard of the past, and above all, the failure.
Fin.