This Need of Mine

I can feel your amber eyes upon me Remus, and I wish you would stop gazing upon me.

There is nothing left between us. Nothing except a silence that needs to be broken.

I can tell from the quiet soft voice, mixed with silky velvet words, that no matter how much you deny it you miss me.

But, it's so heard to convince you that you don't miss me! You've always loved Sirius, and deep down always will, but the again, what do I know of love?

Did you know they thought I was a squib Remus? For so long I showed no signs of any magic.

My parents both neglected me shamelessly because of it; the truth was my mother was too delicate to have any more children, and what good is an heir who's a squib?

They both neglected me, and left me by myself all the time, my mother would sometimes pass me in the hall, her lips pressed together in a thin line, her complexion a tough gray, her eyes filled with nothing but coldness, and determination.

My father however, treated me somewhat better. At mealtime, he would praise the strait A's on all my muggle classes, and tell me he was proud of my progress. But in his black eyes, the very same eyes I now poses, I could tell always tell that he was not pleased. And it hurt me, in every fiber of my being.

When I was around nine years old I became very sick, I was delirious most of the time, both of my parents stood over my bed the first night of my illness and discussed me, I only realized what they had meant until after I was well.

"We should call St. Mungo's for a medi-witch Elana."

"Nikodaeous, what if this is our chance?"

"Our chance to what exactly Elana?"

"We don't call a medi-witch and we let the boy die."

"He is our son, and that is murder you realize."

"He is a squib, he is no son of mine."

"Elana! Severus could just be a late bloomer, I didn't show signs of magic until eight!"

"Nikodaeous, Severus is ten. He has only a year before his letter to Hogwarts should arrive, any normal child would have shown signs by now."

"We will not kill, Severus Elana. We will hire the best medi-witches to take care of him. We will see to it that he lives."

"He's a useless creature, he's no better than a Muggle!"

"My word is final Elana."

It was during this spell that I showed my first signs of magic. My inner conscious was so afraid of mother killing me in my sleep that I performed a protective shield around myself. It was amazing that I lived, because the medi-witches could no break through it to try and heal me. It fascinated them.

But I lived, and when I did my father was so proud that he patted me on the head, one of the first times he had ever touched me.

Feeling affection of even the slightest kind was so wonderful that it became my secret high. When they realized I was a wizard and a good one at that my father began teaching me complex curse spells.

I think that when I arrived at Hogwarts, I knew more curses than most the seventh years.

Funny, how I ended up receiving top marks along with you and Lily Remus.

You know why I hated mudbloods so much? Because they would have been perfectly content living life as muggles not being able to cast any spells or ride on brooms, and they receive these powers without even asking for them.

I on the other hand, had to practically kill myself to force magic out of me. Sometimes I wonder if I hadn't had so much self-doubt if it would have been so hard.

Perhaps you, werewolf can relate in some way.

But the past is in the past, and it is my future I worry for. I'm getting old, and though I do not look it, I feel it.

I feel life's heavy burdens on my shoulders, with suddenly tremendous weight. I watch situations and I think, but what if I had just done this one thing different?

It's not really healthy to think like that is it? I shouldn't sit and ponder on past mistakes that can't be changed, because the truth is, everything that happens, happens for a reason.

What, is the reason that my ex-lover is married to the woman I wish to make my lover?

Why did this happen? What have I down to deserve this?

Many have sinned plenty a time in their lives, but no one deserves to have true love dangling in their face just out of reach, like a begging dog whose master holds a fresh gnaw hide bone.

Fate torments me so, and if I weren't a man of honor perhaps my heart's wishes would be fulfilled. Perhaps.

I never expected to ever see Remus Lupin again after we graduated, and I'll admit, the idea didn't sadden me at all. But when he arrived at Hogwarts to teach, I was determined to hate him, that I remember. By Christmas time we had become grudging colleagues, and bye, March or April friends, but never did I expect to be his lover, never.

But alas! In May it came to be so. It was most out of character for me to be shagging anyone, let alone a werewolf! We told no one of our relationship, but I believe the headmaster and deputy headmistress suspected. They always seem to know.

I was so angry when I saw the little dot names Sirius black and Remus Lupin embrace on the marauder's map that night. I was ready to kill, both Remus and his lover. I was so raving jealous, and black so short tempered that I was ready to turn him over to the kiss anytime.

Thinking back on it, I'm glad he escaped because of Potter and Granger. I rid myself o Remus Lupin that night, and realized that I never loved him anyway.

I had never loved Remus Lupin, as my mind had been telling me. I was just high on the affection he gave out, not to mention that Remus has a way with words.

In the end, poetic expression got Remus Lupin anything when it came to sex, anything.

Remus, scarred me sometimes, so calm gentle and serene, but when his wolfish side came out...

I went back to my state of spinster hood when I dumped Remus, and a spinster I suppose I am now, for I fell in love with the most unlikely person.

Hermione AneMarie Granger now Lupin. One of the most brilliant witches to ever enter Hogwarts, a key factor in the Downfall of Voldemort, and the happy wife of Remus J Lupin.

Yes, I love my ex-lovers wife, but she'll never know. She's married, and we are both people of honor. If she had ever been interested in me, she would have said it loud and clear, Hermione was never one to hold back her feelings. And Hermione would never marry without love, would she?

Sometimes, when she looks at me, and I catch her eye, a faint tinge of blush appears on her face. She looks like a schoolgirl with a crush, not a woman wanting shag. And I think I love her the better for it.

Sometimes, I wonder if Remus knows, he was always so well at reading people, reading between the lines. I try so hard to block myself from him, so he'll never know, but sometimes those amber eyes seem to piece right through my soul.

I grow colder as time moves on. At least now that I no longer play the double agent I have a few friends. But friends are not what I need.

Real, unconditional love would solve all my problems, this Remus tells me. But I know that I need the real unconditional love of one specific woman to ever be whole again.

No amount of whores, no amount of one-night stands, would ever satisfy this need of mine.

I'm like a prairie wolf starved for water.

I need that water to live and survive; my pride will only support me for so long.

My masculine pride is my ruin I sometimes think.

But all these prides, needs, thoughts, loves, will remain hidden from her, till death do them part.