What Eyes Can See

Those eyes. They always watched him. Every move he made, every gesture, every expression; there wasn't an inch of him that those eyes had not caressed. And such unusual eyes... They were one of a kind, well, two of a kind really. A million shades of brown, from mud brown to mahogany, from the deep bronze of whiskey to the brown you see in the water of a running brook. There were a million browns and those eyes made every one of them special. And the most amazing of them was their golden sparkle, that tawny-yellow glow that shouted 'wolf'. Not that he cared. He knew it was the wolf that watched him, even as it was the man that wanted him.

Sometimes he dreamed of the wolf, hard and fast and wild. Sometimes of the man, gentle, slow and beautiful. He wanted both. He wanted all of him. He wanted to feel more than those eyes upon him. Call it a crush. Call it an obsession. Call it love. He wasn't sure exactly what it was either, only that it could not be easily defined. All he knew was the wanting. He thought he'd die of it at times, but still he waited. Waited for the day the man whose eyes those were would do more than just watch.

With a start Ron jerked awake. Flushing, he stared at the other two occupants of the car. Still asleep luckily. With a sigh of relief he leaned back into the velvet seats. It could have gotten embarrassing, explaining he'd had an erotic dream about eyes of all things.

Best not go back to sleep, he thought ruefully. It can't be long til Hogwarts anyway.

He opened his eyes slowly, stretching a bit to get the kinks out of his neck. The first thing he saw was Hermione, the one-time love of his life. He felt a bit of a pang at the thought. He couldn't love her like that. That had become clear the first time he'd given her a real kiss. He'd vaguely registered it at ok, but there was nothing there. Which had led him to an interesting question - Was it Hermione, or girls in general? - which led to a rather unpleasant look into himself, in which he shortly discovered... oh no... yes... no... that can't be right... but... oh... yup... I'm gay.

The discovery hadn't really been all that unpleasant. The wizarding world was much more tolerant than the Muggle one, and his family had no problems. His concerns had been with Hermione and Harry, whose Muggle upbringings might have made them homophobic. Luckily, they were both supportive, and Hermione had gone on and on about support groups and self-help books and given him dozens of pamphlets. Was the girl prepared for everything?

She's grown up, Hermione had, and was far prettier than you ever thought she'd have grown to be. Not that he meant to be unkind, but if you had seen the bushy-haired, buck-toothed girl from First Year you would have despaired of her every being anything but ugly too. But a new haircut and a tooth-straightening spell had worked wonders, and 'Mione's facial structure had appeared overnight, leaving her with actual cheekbones. As she said cheerfully, 'Go figure.'

Now Harry... Harry was harder to pin down. He looked fragile, he really did, but it was impossible to think of him as fragile. The things he'd seen and done would have broken lesser men (or women, let's not have the feminists breathing down our backs, shall we?). His magical power was unparalleled, and no one could match him on a broom, not now, not ever. He was without a doubt Ron's best friend and he knew he would never think of him in any way but that. He could certainly appreciate how he looked though. The pale skin and vivid green eyes made a stark contrast to his black hair, and of course the scar was rather attention grabbing.

His best friends were now the couple everyone thought he and Hermione would have been. He didn't care, though his mother had been particularly upset. It was nonsense though. He and 'Mione were simply too different. It would be like... like Harry and Draco! Which, of course, is just insane. [A/N Sorry, couldn't resist! ; ) ]

Well, whatever their past, looks, and sexual orientation, the three were best friends and they knew nothing would ever change that. Ron watched fondly as Hermione slept on Harry's shoulder, his hand curled protectively around her waist. Malfoy had yet to bother them and they should be pulling up to Hogwarts any second now. Not that Malfoy would have much ammo in his arsenal this year, since his father had been sent to Azkaban and Arthur Weasley had been sworn in as the new Minister of Magic. Yeah, this was going to be a great year.

Sighing, Ron shifted his gaze towards the rapidly approaching castle. Was he there all ready? The crush - which shouldn't have lasted the summer - hadn't diminished at all. Hopefully he wouldn't make too much of a fool of himself in class.

~~~~~~~

"Firs' years! Firs' years o'er here!" Hagrid's booming voice scared no less than three students into falling down the ramp off the train. Ron just chuckled. Hagrid never seemed to change.

"Hey Hagrid!" he shouted, waving his hand high in the air.

" 'Allo Ron!" he yelled back. "Where's Harry and Hermione?"

He shrugged. "They're right behind me... somewhere." He shrugged again, smiling. "Those two always manage to get lost together. Odd, isn't it?" Hagrid just grinned in response.

"Hermione and Harry? The two of 'em together? You're all growin' up so fast."

"That they are."

Oh God. It's him. Turn around slowly, don't trip over anything. Stop blushing! You look like an idiot!

"Hello Professor Lupin."

"Hello Ron."

He is my teacher; he has no right to look at that good. I have no right to think he looks that good. Stupid hormones. Stupid sexy werewolf teacher.

"Glad to be teaching again?" Yes! A semi-intelligent question!

Remus smiled, his thoughts racing rapidly about. Damn the boy. This would be easier if he wasn't around all the time. It was kind of perverse actually. The one thing he wanted was what he shouldn't have, and he craved him like an addiction. Ron, his own personal drug.

"Except for the Slytherins, of course, it's great to be back."

"Pshht." Ron made a rude noise. "Don't worry about them. Snape's just in a snit 'cause we beat Slytherin every year. The man needs a new hobby."

Remus laughed. "That he does. Greasy git." Then he winced slightly. "Suppose I shouldn't have said that?"

"Probably not, but I won't tell."

The two stared at each other, unable or unwilling to realize that they were thinking the same thing.

I wish...

*Sigh* If wishes were horses...

So with life being what it is, the two just stared, and then with a quiet goodbye Professor Remus J. Lupin turned around and headed to the school. Unbeknownst to them, Harry and Hermione had finally 'found' their way off the train and had been watching the pair.

Hermione's stomach jumped. That couldn't be right, could it? Did Ron just check Professor Lupin out? No. He hadn't. He'd looked at him, sure, but checked him out? She must have been mistaken. Yes, it was a mistake, she decided. Everyone makes them after all.

Everyone makes mistakes.

~~~~~~~

"I'd also like to introduce our Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, Professor Remus Lupin, whom some of you older students may recognize."

It was bad enough that he had stopped by the Burrow now and then during the summer. But once he accepted the teaching position it was worse. It wasn't like Ron wanted this you know. What seventeen-year-old really wants to fall in love with his older, probably a hundred times more experienced, probably straight, most definitely not interested teacher? He viciously stabbed the table.

Sit down and stop looking so good. I'm doing my best - for my sanity, and probably yours too - to forget you exist.

He kept his gaze carefully trained on the edge of the table.

"Let the feast begin!" Thank you Dumbledore.

Ah, food. There was nothing that couldn't be solved with food.

~~~~~~~

"I think I'm going to pop."

"You say that every year."

"That's because every year it's true!"

Hermione smirked. "You keep eating like that you'll get fat Ron. No one can eat as much as you can."

He began to fake-cry, horrendously wailing and sniffling. It was oddly reminisce of Moaning Myrtle. "Harry, your girlfriend just called me fat! Excuse me while I go develop an eating disorder."

"You all ready have one. How else do you explain seven chicken wings, two servings each of mashed potatoes and green beans, four biscuits, dessert, and God-knows-what else besides? AND you ate on the train." Harry poked him in the stomach. "If you really did pop I wouldn't be surprised."

Ron grinned sheepishly. "And the funny thing is I'm not really all that full. I'm kidding!" he added quickly, seeing the Double H's expressions. "Totally kidding. Though I wouldn't say no to some Bertie Bott's."

With a groan Hermione pushed Ron through the portrait hole. "Get some sleep. Maybe in the morning all that food won't be putting so much pressure on your brain."

He turned around and sent her a hurt look. "You're so mean to me! I'm going to develop a fricken complex!" Their laughter followed him all the way up the stairs.

Hermione and Harry really are good friends. They can always make me smile... Uh oh, getting the warm fuzzies. Let's stop the mushy line of thought. He pushed open the door, strangely relieved. Nothing had changed from last year. Same beds, same colors, same wall hanging. A little boring maybe, but also comforting.

Huh. No one else is here yet. No Neville, no Seamus or Dean. Might want to start unpacking.

He stopped and looked out the window. This year was going to be... big, he decided. Things were going to happen this year. He knew it.

Ron stopped and shook his head. Stop it! He didn't like the little flashes he's been getting, when his head would get cloudy and the rest of the world faded out. When things got so dreamy, so unattached and limitless...

Maybe I'll unpack tomorrow. With a lingering yawn he took off his robe and then his clothes, rummaging around blindly for a pair of pajamas. He pulled them on and slipped into bed.

Yes... yes, this year, big things would happen. He knew it...

~~~~~~~

"Potions. First thing, Monday mornings. With the Slytherins of course. Snape's trying to kill us all off again."

"It could be worse," Hermione chimed in.

"How could it possibly be worse?"

"We could have Potions everyday." There was a moment of complete silence as everyone in earshot shuddered.

"Yup, it could be worse. As it is we have it twice a week, Mondays and Thursdays. Followed by Care for Magical Creatures and then Charms in the afternoon. Tuesdays and Fridays are Transfiguration, History of Magic, and Defense Against the Dark Arts."

I will not think about who teaches DADA. "What do you have on Wednesdays 'Mione?"

"We all have Herbology, but then I have Muggle Studies and Arithmancy while you and Harry have Divination." The look on Hermione's face said quite clearly what she thought of that class. "Which leaves me with eight N.E.W.T.S. to take and you two with seven." Both boys groaned.

"Honestly Hermione," Harry said crossly. "It's the first day back! Give us at least a month before you start in on that."

She blushed a bit. "Fine. You have a month."

Harry's jaw dropped. "If I knew you'd agree so easy I would have pushed for two."

"I'll give you one and a half, but only 'cause I love you." She leaned and kissed his nose. Harry just grinned a little and pulled her closer towards him.

Great. My best friends are mushier than Mum on Valentine's Day. As his gaze wandered he mentally smacked himself. Don't look up at the Head Table! Don't look to see if he's there. Ignorance is bliss.

"C'mon you two lovebirds. Time for Potions. I'm sure Snape is as ornery as ever."

~~~~~~~

And he was, bless the man. By the end of the hour and a half period Gryffindor had lost forty points, saved from fifty by Neville who for once had very narrowly missed blowing up his cauldron.

Care of Magical Creatures was only semi-dangerous. Hagrid had brought baby earth golems for their first day. They looked like brown blobs of mud and stick, but no one protested when Hagrid called them 'gorgeous lil things'. They slept for most of the period but near the end one of them latched itself onto Pansy Parkinson's robe and she nearly burst into tears when it wouldn't let go. The Gryffindors nearly burst into tears from laughing so hard.

Charms was a bit dry, with Professor Flitwick going over all the charms from the previous years. Ron hadn't realized how many spells he had learned over the years. He remembered most of them, and could still do about half of them. Hermione could do all of them and earned back all the points Snape had taken away.

"You think we would have won all the other House Championships without Hermione? I never realized how many points she actually wins us!" And Ron only used the tiniest bit of sarcasm, honest!

Hermione slapped him upside the head. "I have too, idiot, since you two insist upon sneaking around the castle at all hours of the night."

"Hey Harry! Control your woman!"

"I'm not going there," Harry said quickly.

"Ronald Weasley, Harry does not control me!" And he was forced to duck yet another slap.

~~~~~~~

Tuesday was more of the same. McGonagall had them transfigure frogs into hats. The only problem was that to get the frogs to hold still you need to successfully perform the Petrificus spell on them first, and since frogs have a tendency to jump around a lot of people got hit with the spell instead of the frogs. Eventually the frogs were petrified but so was half the class. Ron and Harry, who had spent large amounts of the summer dodging the twins jokes and hexes managed well enough. Hermione wasn't so lucky. She was in her seat, a look of shock frozen onto her face and a frog bouncing up and down neurotically on her lap.

~~~~~~~

"Figures it was the one time Colin wasn't around."

"Wouldn't say that in 'Mione's hearing. She actually tried to hex the frog afterwards. I've never seen her lose it like that."

"Except when she slapped Malfoy that day."

"Yeah, that was good wasn't it?"

"Yeah. Looked like it hurt. That hit like a girl stuff is misleading."

"I know! Did you miss when she slapped me around yesterday?"

"Forgot."

"Of course. Everyone forgets when Ron is abused, but God forbid anyone lay one finger upon Harry Potter!"

"That's because I'm so delicate."

Ron snorted. "Right."

~~~~~~~

History of Magic had turned into another snooze-fest. Professor Binns was still teaching of course, and he started lecturing on the Great Dragon Migration of 1470 the second they stepped in the door. Within minutes everyone was asleep.

"Is it just me or does that class get more boring ever year?"

"I wouldn't know. I can never stay awake."

Next was Defense Against the Dark Arts. Ron walked with Hermione and Harry as usual, chatting and making jokes but every step took him closer to Remus, and every step made him more and more nervous.

Which is stupid. Stupid to get nervous I mean. What's to be nervous about? He's just another teacher... despite being sexy and me being ass over heels in love with him. No problems. No worries. No need to be nervous at all. I mean, I only blush every time he's near me, can barely form sentences and tend to stutter when I do manage to come up with one. It's not like he notices. Right? Please God let him not notice me being an idiot. Or maybe I want him to notice me... Some attention's better than none right? No, actually, on second thought, I'd rather be invisible than the class dimwit.

The DADA classroom had been moved to the first floor, just off the wing near the Great Hall. It didn't look much different from a regular classroom. There was a large bookshelf filled with books on the left side, a huge mirror and various cages on the right side, and desks and chairs in the middle. Nothing vaguely weird or frightening, like when Mad Eye Moody had been teacher.

However, the teacher for this particular year, one Remus J. Lupin, was having some vaguely weird and frightening thoughts of his own.

For God's sake man, you're forty-four years old! He's seventeen! You went to school with his parents... On the other hand, it's not like he's a minor. Not that it matters, he argued inwardly, Because I'm also not going to do a thing about my feelings anyway. That's why its unrequited love. It's like a schoolboy crush, only reversed.

"Welcome class. It's nice to see all of you again."

A cheer rose up from the students. It was common knowledge that Professor Lupin had been the best DADA teacher in the six years they'd been at Hogwarts. Even some of the Slytherins admitted it, though definitely not in public.

"Good to see everyone's still here from third year. I'm afraid I have to say that this year will be much harder. Fifth year was a complete bust as far as DADA was concerned" - another round of cheering - "and for sixth year you had... Damon Burbuck, is that right? He seemed to know what he was about."

"The man was over a hundred thirty years old!" Dean cried.

"But you learned something, didn't you?"

"That old men have heart attacks rather easily."

"Yes, I suppose it was rather unfortunate to have a teacher keel over in front of you... but he lived a long, full life and that's what matters right?" Not exactly what I wanted to talk about today. "But, as I was saying earlier, this year will be quite taxing. Not only do you have the N.E.W.T.S., you also need instruction on battle curses. Not the Unforgivables of course, but some nasty ones at that. So, a very busy year."

This is going well enough. Scan the classroom slowly, but never look him in the face. Directly. Well, maybe just once.

And there he was. Ronald Weasley. Remus had fallen in love only once before and to say it ended badly would be a bit misleading. It had ended with betrayal and blood, a broken friendship and empty promises. It was one mistake after another, and the only logical thing to do was never fall in love again. Remus didn't have the luxury, being what he was. So he guarded himself and spent his years quiet and fairly alone. Until Ron.

Remus first saw Ron as a baby. Arthur and Molly's sixth child; yet another boy. He was a bit unremarkable, fading into the background a little. He wasn't an endless ball of energy like Bill or unusually precocious like Charlie. He didn't have the charming seriousness of Percy or the emotional buoyancy of the twins. He was Ron, a gape-toothed tot with a shock of orange hair, always asking questions and tagging after people. He was Ron, a spindly youth with a yen for stories and chess matches. Remus last saw Ron when he was eight or so, and he couldn't really say that he stuck out among the Weasley clan. Then Ron reappeared as a Third Year at Hogwarts, as appealing and intelligent as his sister and brothers. He was rather fond of the Weasleys, and Ron was no exception. Bright and winning, unusual and fully his own person, even under the shadow of his older brothers.

At least, that was what Remus had thought of him. Then his emotions had taken a turn for the worse, or perhaps the best, who knows which. But even Remus had not expected the depth of his own feelings. When had admiration and fondness turned to love and lust? At what point did he cease to be Ronald Weasley, one of the Weasley brood and become Ron, clever, gorgeous, slightly awkward Ron, whom Remus desperately, desperately loved? The summer had forced Remus's eyes open, forced him to see that Ron was no longer a boy and could no longer be disregarded as just another student, just another child of just another friend.

It became painfully evident. Very evident.

It had been like a stab to the gut when Ron's boyfriend had visited the Burrow. Yes, boyfriend. An equal mix of shame and envy had quickly overshadowed Remus's original feeling of joy. Joy at knowing Ron was gay; shame at thinking of Ron that way, envy of the boy that was his. A Ravenclaw called Terry Boot. He remembered the boy. Intelligent but possessing a sense of humor that many of his House did not have. A nice boy, as he remembered, and that was what burned. Couldn't it have been someone horribly unsuitable, so that it would never amount to much? And the shame of thinking 'that way' about Ron was nothing compared to the shame he felt when he heard they had broken up... and was glad. And that was it. That was when he was truly sunk.

It was the beginning of August by then, after which he'd accepted the Hogwarts position and weekly dinners at the Burrow were not uncommon. Sitting near Ron was torture. Listening to him laughing with Harry, joking with the twins, teasing Ginny and answering his parents haphazard questions. Remus had stayed long enough to play chess with Ron once, reveling in talking with him quietly, a guilty pleasure. Harry had been reading a book on an armchair near the fire, Arthur had been off working on his latest batch of laws, being the Minister now, and Molly had been in the kitchen trying a new recipe. The twins had been upstairs being relatively quiet and Ginny had spent the night at a friend's. There was no one to notice if he looked at Ron overlong or if when he was looking he looked at him with something more than fondness. Not even Ron himself.

So here he was, a teacher in love with his student. A man in love with a boy less than half his age. A werewolf in love with a human. Could he possibly have crossed more lines?

Well, at least he's not a Slytherin, piped up his inner voice.

Small comfort.

With a jolt Remus came back to the present and the class. It seemed he'd gone on autopilot for the last few minutes, telling the class his few rules and then to grab a partner and sit at a table. He mentally rolled up his sleeves. This was going to be difficult.

~~~~~~~

On third thought, some attention might have been nice after all.

An hour and a half of being pointedly ignored. An hour and a half of lecturing and being pointedly ignored. An hour and a half of practicing mild curses and hexes and being pointedly ignored. Did he mention he was pointedly ignored? Grumbling, Ron made an effort to pull himself back into the conversation.

"... Ravenclaw Beaters can fly rings around ours, even thought we've finally replaced Fred and George."

"We've got an advantage in the Seekers though. And our Chasers are decent."

"You're doing well as Keeper too, Ron. Even better every game."

"The Ravenclaws are lightweights anyway. The real trouble should be Hufflepuff this year."

"And how do you figure that?" Ron finally managed. "Their Chasers are next to useless and the Seeker's only so-so."

"But the Beaters are rather good. Almost as good as Fred and George were."

"They'll never be any Beaters as good as Fred and George! They could practically read each other's minds. And they were Gryffindors besides," Seamus added proudly.

And who among them could argue with that?

~~~~~~~

"This is boring."

"Hmm." Ron idly stirred the gems around with his finger. How was this supposed to work again? Throwing them on the table, and then interpreting the way they fall. Sounds easy enough. He picked the stones up and tossed them over the surface of the table.

"Wow..." This one was cool. Like a pearl almost, it had the kind of luster to it. But it was cut into a square, so an opal, maybe? Maybe not...

"Did you say something Ron?"

"What? Oh, no. Nothing." The red one was cool too. It was more round. Not a ruby; this was school after all, and Hogwarts wasn't that rich. A what-do-you-call it then. Garnet. Sometimes it is good to have a sister with a jewelry fetish.

Hmm, well that's... different... and... things are clouding over again... getting all... Oh... Oh... I... Wow. Did I... daydream, or was that...?

"Ron?" Harry's voice startled him out of his seat. "Class is over."

"Oh." Sheepish, he looked around the empty classroom. "Sorry."

"No problem. I space out in here all the time," Harry confessed. "I'd probably fall asleep except for that awful incense."

"It is kind of irritating." That was weird. Maybe old Trelawney's not just burning incense. "Let's get out of here."

"Your best idea today."

"Hey, what about when I suggested throwing that curse we learnt yesterday at Malfoy? Tell me that wasn't a good idea." Uhh, all the hair on the back of my neck's raised. This is creepy.

"Ok, that was a good idea too."

"See? I'm a veritable genius."

"You know what veritable means? Hermione would be proud."

"Stuff it."

~~~~~~~

"Spill it Ron."

"Huh? What?"

"Tell me who you like. You've been out of it for weeks. It's the middle of ruddy October and since you haven't told me yet. Tell me!"

"No way."

"Come on, you know I won't tell."

"It's a guy Harry. Are you really sure you want to know?"

"Yes."

Damn. It was worth a shot.

"No. Sorry, but no. I really don't want to talk about it."

"Ron..."

"No!"

"Fine. But if you decide you do want to talk to me, I'll always be there all right?"

"Yeah, I know Harry. You are my best friend."

"You know it. Now stop daydreaming and start working on... oh dear God I sounded just like 'Mione. The exact same tone and everything."

"Attack of the Girlfriend! Even when she's not here she's here!" Ron nodded sagely. "She has trained you well, young one."

"Shut up Ron!"