The Divination Teacher

I breathe you. Even without Lupin to guide my inner wolf I can still smell you, deep inside, where my lungs nestle over my heart. Melodramatic? Perhaps, but needed in this game. What I do for you, smacking my hands against the skin of your thighs and chest, I do out of love. You need the pain. The pain you learned in Azkaban. I give you pain as you give me comfort in the dark. You capture the moon in swirls of saliva against my throat, painting me with a coat of invisible webbing, strands shimmering between the spaces of my fingers.

One slap, two.

You need it this way. I stop to sniff the air. I stop to follow Remus in his desire. I glance over my shoulder to where he sits, watching, needing and yet staying out of the game. Remus cannot bear to hurt you so it falls to me to bridge the gaps between our lives. Remus loves to watch the wolf appear in my eyes. He calls me Seer. He alone takes me seriously. My back is still bruised from where he took me against one of my class tables this afternoon, the cloying scent of my incense masking his wolf sense, allowing him to be merely a man.

My poor boys with their games and innuendos, their needs that they cannot communicate to each other, neither of them realizing how I covet every precious second I am allowed to interpret. You, Sirius, only able to come with the right mixture of pain and pleasure and you Lupin only able to come when you can pretend that you are a man and not a wolf. Perhaps my own desire to awaken my sleeping beast is what causes you to turn from me, to turn to the Potions Master that offers you a piece of sanity against the beast.

What shapes we make along the lines of our lives. Crossing over and under, Sirius, Remus, myself, myself, Remus, Severus. Never room for all of us, but useless to pretend any of us could be content with choosing one lover over another. I grind the heel of my hand along your mouth dear Sirius, letting you rasp your tongue against my palm. Remus moans softly at the movement, his beast peeking. We will play our game well into the night. I can’t help but glance at the moon, slowly swelling. It is always lonely without Remus, though to hear him you would think he was the least needed in our triads rather than the most. Your mouth and Remus' moans guide me back to the present. The moon can wait a few more nights, while by your eyes I can see you are ready. I motion Remus to bring me the whip.

There’s a knock at the door and we wind our play to a halt.

The Potions Master

The Potions Master is always hard.

Ironic but true. He makes his foul brew, lips smiling while heart lies leaden in his chest. For years he waited. From their childhood he wanted. His hands are sure though inside he trembles worse than any boy during his first time. For Severus Snape every potion is the first time. Every ladle full of potion that is swallowed by Remus is one less lonely night that he, Severus , needs to find comfort in the dark of his closed hand.

He does not understand why he waits. Why he has always waited. A hundred excuses trace their paths along his brain but inside he knows he could never open up to another person, never let go of that control he exerts in every aspect of his life. So he ladle’s his potion into a goblet, and he walks down the hall, and he hears them, in their insanity. His teeth grind with jealousy, his hands still steady though inside he seethes. One knock, the noises stop, a mumbled exclamation, a sharp giggle from the woman, the door dragging open, Remus , tired eyed and yawning. Cup passes, he waits, Remus looks on him with a small gleam naked in his eye, Severus knows the words that gleam says but still he lets the game play out.

“Don’t worry I’ll drink it.”

He doesn’t move, watches the familiar sigh break free from Remus' throat, waits for him to drain the goblet, grimace and say thank you. Door closes. Severus goes back to his dungeon and stares at the ceiling. One week a month he follows this routine. Inside he feels hollow. His hands are now allowed to tremble, gently, against his sheet.

The Infamous Sirius Black

I can see him trembling. Just looking at him and his reaction my hands curl under, my face hardens. I know Remus will crack a joke, make light of it, but it doesn’t stop the tremble he let out. I want to kill Severus Snape . Instead I wait on the bed. Instead I slip back into the prisoner. The me that had to survive Azkaban. It’s the only way I survive my need for Remus .

I don’t understand why he won’t return my advances but he is intrigued by Severus . It was never this way. He joined in the pranks just as much as we did. He felt the same aminosity toward that hawk nosed, beady, unwashed thing as the rest of us, but now it’s a fine line tremor when the week of the moon comes. Maybe I pushed him too hard, rushed too fast from friendly commadrie to needs that only Remus could fufill . I want to tear Severus Snape apart with my bare hands.

For taking Remus away from me, for nearly dying in the Shrieking Shack, for putting that wedge between Remus and me.

God I can still hear your voice Remus , accusing me of not giving a damn about anyone but myself. Accusing me of not caring if you accidentally killed a man in your beast form. I made light of it back then and it was the worst mistake of my life. That day I laughed was the day I slammed a door in your face. At least Azkaban did something right. It brought us closer in this sexual way then we’d ever been before.

There. You cracked your joke. Sybill makes a small laugh but she knows the fun is over tonight.

I’m not in the bloody mood anymore.

The Werewolf

Sybill’s hands are cool against your neck as you lean back against her small, portable bathtub. You let her sponge off the sweat from your last bout, asking to go first so that you can enjoy the mix of lilac incense and her sex smell. Your mind is in Asia while you follow the repetition of water dropping on skin, lilac on air, sponge rasping against chest, her breath in your ear. In your head you superimpose Severus and Sirius, playing with the layers. Your hands clench.

You can smell Severus ’ desire from down the corridor, you are still battling the ghosts of Sirius’ laughter in the Shrieking Shack, Sybill is warm and inviting, but temporary. You know you can’t keep this stalemate forever. You feel the faintest touch of water, higher than it should be and you know that she is crying. You wish you could comfort her, you are the most “balanced” of the bunch but you find that words, like your throat, have closed up and you don’t know what to say to make it better.

It has become just a bath and her tears fall in line with the water, adding one more syllable in the unsung melody of your tangled life.

The Dividing Line Splits the Three Into Four

I knew it couldn’t last forever. The three of us together in this stalemate. There are coins in this situation but one side is always Remus and the other? Either Sirius or Severus .Only Remus can decide. I’m the odd side of the coin, the edge.

That doesn’t stop me from missing him. Missing Remus curled around me, feeling his slim body steal my heat. Hearing him rasp my name while we copulate, pull apart my clothes, leave me blind and searching him with hands and lips.

Now I’m lying on my bed alone.

He never said a word. Not even when my tears were gone and I couldn’t hold the washcloth, not when he washed me, not even when he brought me here and left with just a simple touching of his lips to mine, his lips to my knuckles, his lips to my forehead, sorry evident in his eyes.

Into the Dark Night I Go

The potion master is dark on dark. He is fumbling, anxious, breaking his word again. His eyes are closed and seeking. His hands forget themselves in the frantic movements of his need. There is a knock and an entering, his night blind eyes are wild, looking toward the pool of light in the doorway and Remus waiting there.

There are no quick replies, no snarls of leave, what are you doing here? There is only the aborted breath of a man who thinks he is dreaming without sleep. From the stale smell of guttering candles comes Remus , watching and quiet in his own way, his eyes slightly feral as he memorizes the moment before quietly shutting the door.

Leaving Severus Snape alone and confused.

Fairy Tales Aren’t Always Happily Ever After

He’s in my room.

Shaking, quiet, sullen even, but not over me, over that bastard Snape . I can tell. I don’t know how to say what I need to say to him. I don’t know how to approach him anymore. I sit in this blasted chair and I watch him.

“You told me once that forever was just a fairy tale fools told themselves in the dark , ” he says, his voice almost raspy from emotion.

“And I meant it,” I say, needing to grasp something in his face, his eyes but unable to comprehend what he means.

“I never believed you, not until recently.”

My chest feels like it’s on fire and I try to say something but fail before Lupin’s raised hand.

“I can’t do this anymore Sirius, pretend that what I do with you and Sybill is enough. It isn’t enough, watching all of us play out these games to give each other satisfaction. It isn’t enough anymore.”

“What and going to Snape is going to satisfy you! Bloody hell man, that prick couldn’t satisfy you if his life depended on it! He wouldn’t know how to show genuine caring in a thousand years.”

“Only because he doesn’t know how.”

“Don’t give me that bleeding heart bullshit! Severus Snape will never change Remus ! I can’t believe you’ll drop what you and I and…. and Sybill have for that stupid git .”

“I never said I was dropping you two for Severus , only that I was dissolving this ménage a tois .”

“But you’re defending Snape !Snape of all people! Why?”

He got up then and looked down at me with these eyes that I can’t name and said, “at least with Severus I know where I stand.”

Then he left me.

Another Visit In The Night

This time when the door opens Severus is waiting, dressed, in a chair, but it isn’t Remus that is encased in light but Sirius.

“Where is he?” he demands, walking toward Severus with strong steps, “where’s Remus ?”

“How dare you enter my chamber without permission! ”Severus starts but Sirius cuts off the rest of his tirade with a swift kick to one chair leg. Severus tumbles backwards and Sirius is over him snarling and shaking him.

“I never liked you, you worthless, greasy git but I’ll be damned if I’m going to listen to your stupid prattle. Where’s Remus ? I know he’s around.”

“I’m right here,” Remus says, standing in the doorway, “why don’t you drop him Sirius, this isn’t helping the situation.”

“There is no situation,” Sirius says as he straightens up.

“Get out of my room the both of you, I do not know what is going on in your minds that you think you can come into my personal rooms whenever you like but you are sadly mistaken. Now go!”

“No,” Remus and Sirius say simultaneously, then glance at each other warily.

At another time their no’s would have meant the same idea, same thought, but that time has passed and Sirius watches as the play finishes its final act.

“Why?” He asks Remus quietly, “why him? Why him and not me?”

“When I look at him I see only a man, a man that despises my wolf side, a man that hates me even, but a man nonetheless. And a man that despite what he says or does still offers me potions to try and help my condition. When I look at you I see a man that would have made me a murderer. I can forgive you for that, we were boys and foolish. But I can’t accept you as a lover. Not with that as a barrier.”

Sirius allows the naked pain to stay in his face as he turns to go, he does not want to see the triumphant smile on Severus ’ face or the pity glancing across Remus ’. He shuts the door quietly and does not fight the words Remus has spoken.

Inside Severus offers Remus another goblet of potion. Remus drinks the concoction with his familiar grimace and says a thank you. They sit quietly beside each other in the dark and do not speak or touch or promise inconsequential things. They are just there, together.

*********************

Elsewhere in the upper reaches of the school Sirius Black is punished by Sybill Trelawney, his body twisting and brutalized under her touch. Their mating is swift and sure, hard and bruising and doesn’t last long enough to chase away their ghosts.

As she falls to dreams Sybill cannot help but think that Sirius is as hard as steel against her back and cold, so damn cold, stealing away her heat.