After the Moon

After the Moon

*

Voldemort

***

Remus slowly awoke to a slight ache. He ached everywhere - his muscles, his chest, even his bones seemed to be aching. But, he wasn't really hurt.

Thus, it was just a usual morning after a full moon night with the aid of the Wolfsbane Potion.

"You're awake," observed somebody with a calm voice. He opened his eyes to see a pair of ice-blue orbs watching him.

"Yes, I am," the werewolf admitted with a hoarse voice.

"Severus!" came a strict command, and a tall figure departed from shadows in the corner of the room. Remus watched as Severus, in a black robe but without the usual Death Eater mask, started digging vials from the bag on his hips.

"Drink this," was the next thing he heard. So, he took the offered vial and downed it. While he did so, Severus poured exact measures of various potions into a decorative goblet. At last, he dropped three drops from a tiny vial to the mixture, then examined it. Seemingly satisfied with what he saw, he handed the goblet to the werewolf, who drank its contents gratefully.

Remus tasted an odd addition to the familiar healing mixture. However, he recognized it as the taste of the usual mind-strenghtening potion he received from the Potions Master. After drinking it, his mind was much clearer. Also, his bond with Tom seemed more distant and less controlling.

Unfortunately, Tom noticed this, too. Usually, he did not notice as Remus kept himself all the time dosed with the potion, but the change in their bound could not go unnoticed.

"Thank you, Severus," Remus said hastily. "The wolf seems much more distant now." From the corner of his eye he saw Tom relax, at least as much as the Dark Lord ever relaxed, and sighed inwardly in relief. He did not want to submit to the bond, but he did not want Severus killed for giving him the potion, either. If Tom thought that the weakening of the bond was just a usual side-effect of controlling the wolf, the Potions Master was safe at least for some time to come.

"You may leave, Severus," Tom said then. "But I expect you to return here tomorrow, and I hope for your sake that I don't have to call you this time."

"I won't disappoint you, my Lord," the younger Slytherin replied, bowed, and then slid gracefully out of the room.

Tom watched as the werewolf started to drift to the land of dreams again. He was well aware of the mind-strenghtening potion Severus was giving to Remus, but he'd decided to leave it unpunished. In fact, he was kind of pleased - weak-minded people had never pleased him. Mentally strong people he liked in a way, though. That was the reason why Lucius was one of his favourite servants, while Wormtail would never become that, as well as why Severus was still alive, despite all the suspicions about his loyalty.

Oh, Remus Lupin was good-looking in his own way, that he would admit any day. That had been one of the reasons why he'd chosen the werewolf to be bonded with him. Not only because he was a Dark creature and fairly young, and thus, the bond would give Tom back his young self - he'd despised that half-dead body as much as anybody else who saw it. Another of his reasons for choosing Lupin to be bound to him - other than the fact that he was valuable to the Order, of course - was because the man was handsome. Of course he'd known that his age was what mattered, that he'd be given the body of a thirty-five-year-old through the bond, but it wouldn't do any harm for him to be good-looking, too. After all, Tom did have to keep him around to retain his handsome appearance, and he much preferred watching somebody handsome going around than some ugly git, like Wormtail. And the man was intelligent, too - he could actually have intellectual conversations with him, without the fear of his companion not understanding, like the case often was with his Death Eaters.

Had he been offered the possibility to have sex with Remus, he'd of course accepted. He was never one to turn down a good lay, and he was sure that the werewolf would be one - unlike, for example, Bellatrix Lestrange, the woman disgusted him. But he wanted that to happen because the werewolf was willing, and wanted him, not because the bond was bringing them together. Not that he hadn't had many unwilling partners during his life, but he considered Remus some kind of a challenge. His appearance had got him almost anybody he wanted when he'd been young. Now, he was back to his handsome self again, and wanted to try whether the charm still worked.

The werewolf seemed to be sleeping now. Good. He didn't have the whole day to waste for this, he had work to do. He'd ordered one of the female Death Eaters to create a couple of robes - Remus had flat-out refused to wear the black Death Eater robes, and Tom himself found them also undesirable. Now, the woman had informed him that the robes were ready, and he wanted to take a look at them.

He walked to the room and opened it. On the other side, two of his Death Eaters stood in guard. Ordering one of them to go inside, do anything Remus wanted, should he wake up, as well as send a word to Tom himself when the werewolf wholly wake, he started to walk down the corridor.

As he went on his way, he chuckled dryly to himself. Not many people dared to refuse doing anything the Dark Lord ordered them to, and definitely not somebody who was permanently staying at the Riddle House, like Remus was. Then again, Remus was not a Death Eater. He hadn't come to Tom by his own free will, no, he'd been captured and forcefully bound to the Dark Lord, with the consequence that he would die if he left for more than one day. Remus couldn't leave, and he couldn't harm Tom, but he knew that Tom couldn't harm him, either, nor could he allow the Death Eaters to do that. The werewolf spent most of his days doing research in the house's library, studying the magical artefacts Tom possessed, or just discussing with his "host."

These conversations, Tom had come to notice, were truly interesting. Remus was really intelligent, and knowledgeable in many topics, as well as eager to learn more. What surprised Tom most was the werewolf's keen interest in Dark Arts, a desire of learning which he could very well fulfill. Most probably it had something to do with werewolves being Dark creatures, and being too ashamed or frightened to research his natural powers when he was on the "Good" side. Now, there were no restrictions. Tom knew that he wouldn't be harmed, no matter what he taught to the werewolf, and had set it his goal to train Remus into the strongest wizard in his army right after himself.

He'd taken a good step towards it, he thought, as he'd right in the beginning told all Death Eaters in the house that the werewolf could command them just as well as their Master himself. He'd also told that Remus was not to be harmed in any way if they wanted to survive - he liked his good looks too much to risk them because of some too easily angered servant. If his plans went right, very soon he would tell that to all his servants. By the time he'd be finished with Remus, the man would be his greatest ally, one for even Dumbledore to fear.

The robes were rather nice, and just the way he'd wanted them to be. His was black velvet, with a shining white embroidery crawling up the front and under the left armpit, only to come to front again over the right shoulder. Remus's was very much the same, except that it was of course smaller, and the robe was dark grey and the snake silvery grey instead of black and white. Silver Snake. Yes, that would be quite fitting. He chuckled again quietly to himself at the irony of the name, then gave the woman a curt nod of approvance, shrank the robes, and stuck them to his pocket. After that was taken care of, he retreated to the library, trying to find the exact description of an interesting burning curse he'd recently found.

It was somewhere in the middle of the afternoon as he heard a careful knock on the door. "Yes?" he asked sharply, most probably scaring the guards on the other side of the door shitless with his voice only.

"I just received a word from other guards, my Lord," the Death Eater said humbly. "The werewolf's awake at last."

"Very well." Rising from his seat, Tom started to walk back towards the room Remus was in. He was already wearing his new robe - it was quite comfortable - and had the one for Remus shrunk in his pocket. His head raised high, he walked through the house, the few people whom he met shrinking out of his way, withering in fear of raising his anger. Tom allowed himself to be coolly amused about their reaction.

As he entered Remus's room, he saw that the werewolf was really awake, and seemed to be much better than before. A quick examination of the feelings that drifted through their bond confirmed his thoughts.

"So you decided to join us again at last," he said dryly. A furious glance drove the Death Eater back to his guarding place - he was different one than there'd been in the morning.

"It isn't like I had much choice," the werewolf muttered, holding his head with both hands. "My head is about to explode." The golden eyes were raised at him. "You have a new robe," Remus observed.

"That's true," Tom admitted, nodding. "I had a new set made for you, too. The one you now have is wearing rather thin." He drew the shrunk robe from his pocket and stretched it back to its original size with a flick of his wand. Then he tossed it to the bed on top of the covers.

Remus eyed the robe, looking vaguely interested. "Well, at least it's a lot better than those you force your so-called 'servants' to wear," he said dryly. "But as nice as it is, it doesn't help my headache." And he grasped his head again.

Smirking, Tom walked to the side of the bed. "Is there anything I can do to help that?" he asked smoothly.

In an instant, the golden eyes were again at him. "Anything?" repeated Remus, suddenly looking very interested.

"Anything, within certain limits," elaborated the Dark Lord, quirking an eyebrow, never quite giving up his smirk.

"Kill Wormtail for me?"

Tom nodded immediately. "I think I can do that much," he said dryly. It wasn't like he was going to miss the rat. He'd been the one who'd resurrected him, true, but he was no longer either useful or interesting, but merely an annoyance. Turning towards the Death Eaters on the other side of the doorway, he said sharply, "Bring Wormtail here from the cellars!" The rat had been living as a, well, rat in the cellars ever since Remus had arrived to the house. Seemingly Peter didn't want to risk his life with the werewolf. Well, a tad too late.

One of the Death Eaters left immediately. Tom and Remus waited in relatively comfortable silence, until some time later, Wormtail was shoved into the room, the door being closed firmly after him.

At least Wormtail wasn't dumb at all times. As soon as he saw the cold eyes of his Master and the roaring fury in Remus's golden orbs, he fell to his knees, starting to beg for his life. "Please, Remus, have mercy," the rat pleaded. "Remember what Harry said? You're not a murderer!"

"What mercy did you show to Lily and James, Peter?" asked Remus, completely oblivious to the fact that the final killer of his friends was standing next to him, eyeing Wormtail with disgust equal to his own. "What mercy did you show to Harry, making him an orphan? You've more than deserved your death!"

As he saw that there was no mercy coming to him, Peter seemingly decided to try at least take the other remaining Marauder away with him. He sprang forward, his silver hand extended towards Remus.

Tom, however, would have nothing of that. "Stupefy!" he roared, and Wormtail dropped to the floor in dead faint. Kicking the Animagus away in disgust, Tom then turned towards Remus. "Shall I kill him now or wait until he's awake?" he asked casually. "And how should I finish him off, anyway?"

"Just do it now," the werewolf replied with an equally conversational tone. "And as for the manner of death, at the moment I'm severely tempted to just cut that darned hand off his body and see him bleed to death. But, alas, that wouldn't do."

"So true," sighed Tom in mock-sadness. "The carpet would be ruined. Those bloodstains never quite come off completely." Pointing his wand at the unmoving man, he simply stated, "Avada Kedarva."

There was a flash of green light, and Peter Pettigrew was dead.

"Good riddance for bad rubbish," muttered Remus quietly to himself. Then, he yawned. "My headache seems to have disappeared, and I'm tired," he mumbled to Tom. "Would you be offended if I went to sleep again?"

"Not at all. I know you need rest after the transformation." He left the room, stopping at the doorway to tell his servants to get rid of Wormtail's corpse, as well as stand on guard on Remus's door.

As he walked towards his own personal rooms, which were not far away, he chuckled for the umpteenth time during that day. The display of Remus's cold-blooded manner to handle his enemies had improved his moods a great deal.

Silver Snake.

Yes, that would be quite fitting.