Research and Development

Part 3: Development

When someone finally took the spell off of Remus Lupin, it was already after nightfall. He and Harry had been snatched away by Death Eaters, taken God-only-knew where, and dragged down into what seemed to be the bowels of the earth. They were unceremoniously dumped in a small, dank room, and left there, just as they were, for hours.

Lupin could just make out Harry's form, lying where it had fallen. Remus, himself, could not move for the curse was holding him perfectly motionless, except for his eyes...which he tried to keep from trailing towards the boy too often. Was Harry even alive? He knew what spell he'd been hit with, but he wasn't certain what had felled the younger wizard. Oh, God, please let him be alive, he begged, in the echoing silence of his head. Please, please don't take him, too.

Eventually, a heavy Death Eater came through the door, set a tray on the floor, and aimed a countercurse at Remus. Then, to the werewolf's inexpressible relief, he aimed one at Harry, as well. Remus stayed carefully still and the Death Eater backed out into the corridor and snicked the lock on the door, sniggering softly.

Once the man was gone, Remus managed to gain his hands and knees and make his way to the youth's sprawled body. Harry's eyes were still shut, but he was breathing. Remus whipped off his cloak and wrapped it around the slender frame, cradling Harry's head in his lap. He looked around the cell--he supposed it was a cell of sorts--and took inventory. There was a stark light in the ceiling, a small bathroom off to the side, and a cot. That was it, except for Harry and Remus and what they'd come in with. And that amounted to next to nothing; a book on werewolves, which had been tossed in amongst loud laughter, a vial of oil that was the base of many potions, their robes and clothing...and that was all. Their wands had been taken, of course.

Remus gently brushed his hand over Harry's cheek. The Order would have realized within moments that something had gone wrong, so they should be looking for them. He hoped they'd be able to locate them soon. If not...he didn't like to follow the thought to its only logical conclusion. "Harry?" he murmured softly, patting the boy's shoulder. "Harry, can you hear me?" Harry groaned a little, but did not wake. Remus didn't want to force him up; what would be the point? So Harry could feel frightened as well? He was happy as he was. Remus wouldn't purposely change the status quo--not yet, at any rate.

He found himself watching the youth as he slept. His eyes traced the scar on the forehead, the curve of Harry's nose, those elegant, innocent brows. Such a gamine the boy was. Treading close to the line, Remus allowed himself to run his fingertip along Harry's high cheekbones, and dark lashes fluttered just a little, before becoming settled into sleep again. Too close. Remus stared at Harry's much abused bottom lip again, feeling the warmth in his lap. Far too close. Panting a little, he moved the cloak so he could bundle it up a bit and move it under Harry's head.

He carefully rose with the youth in his arms, and placed Harry on the cot. Then he sat on the floor, scooted as far away as possible, and took up the werewolf book to distract himself.

Unfortunately, it wasn't long at all before he found the same picture that had caught Harry's attention, and he stared at it in exasperation. This wasn't distracting at all! Well, it is--so long as you meant it was distracting from the overall 'we're probably going to die' problem, he conceded to himself. But it certainly didn't help anything else. Maybe if he ignored the pictures and focused on the words. Yes, that's it. Words were wonderful, and Remus had learned at a young age that reading could solve pretty much anything. He'd just lose himself in the book, that's all.

A werewolf must claim its mate through a series of actions, each of which is crucial to forming the unbreakable bond. One act which must be completed is the mark, which must be made in human form (to prevent spreading the lycanthropy), and is done by biting the flesh of the chosen mate hard enough to break skin. Well, so far, so good. No pictures on this page, at least. Remus skimmed along a little further. The werewolf and its mate must engage in sexual intercourse. Um. Not so good. His eyes strayed to the sleeping form, which had, at some point during the last several minutes, cast off both its own and Lupin's cloaks, and was arrayed in a very alluring pose, with one leg hanging provocatively off the cot. Remus swallowed hard, forcing his eyes back to the book. Only taking a word in here and there, he made it to the bottom of the page. ...shared bodily fluid completes the bond... conscientious of the fact...lycanthropy is only contagious while a werewolf is in its lupine form...substantive amounts of saliva, blood, and semen must be shared...occasionally the fluid is ingested, resulting in...Remus let out a whimper, shifting his position on the floor. He quickly flipped the page. Good grief! This isn't helpful at all! What kind of self-respecting supposedly educational book contained illustrations like that? And why in the world did they have to choose the bit about semen to illustrate? He adjusted his robes slightly, wishing he were dead. Why was God punishing him like this? What on earth had he done to merit being locked in a room with an unconscious beauty like Harry with nothing but a pocket of oil and a book of porn?

Harry's eyes fluttered open. There was a bright light overhead, but he felt chilled and damp. A thwacking sound came from his left, and he turned his head a bit. "Professor Lupin? Why are you hitting yourself in the head with my book?" he asked, bewildered.

Whimpering more loudly now, the whimper threatening to turn into a moan of despair, Remus smacked the heavy book into his forehead a couple more times, hoping to knock some sense back into himself. Finally, he lowered the volume and peered guiltily over it. "I'm sorry, Harry." The boy could take that any way he wished; it was the perfect truth in any case.

Harry sat up, blinking a little. "Where are we?"

Remus shrugged dispiritedly. "I've really no idea."

Harry began to get nervous. Remus was always the calm one, the rational one. If he was upset, then they must be in an awful lot of trouble. Why did it have to be Remus? If they hadn't wanted Harry, Remus wouldn't be here. If something happened to Remus, it would be all Harry's fault. "It was Death Eaters, wasn't it?" he whispered. "They caught us."

Remus nodded, then looked up to see the blank fear on the boy's face. God, his eyes seemed so old when he looked like that. No one that age should ever have such a look of resigned terror. No one that age should have eyes filled with things they shouldn't have even known, and contain the perfect awareness that they could not un-know them. He found himself beside Harry, arms wrapped around the youth, before he even realized what he was doing. "It's all right," he muttered, needing urgently to reassure the young Gryffindor. "I won't let anything hurt you." He hated himself. He was fully aware he was making promises he couldn't keep, that he was being rash and emotional. That had always been Sirius's role, not Remus's.

Harry let out a long, shaky breath against Remus's chest, steadying himself. The terror and guilt began to abate, as he breathed in the masculine, musky scent of his tutor. Instinctively, Harry moved closer, burrowing his face into Remus's chest. He could feel scratchy hair beneath the thin shirt, and he shuddered with sudden arousal.

Remus, who read this movement as fear, roughly held the boy tighter. "Nothing will hurt you, I promise," he repeated. "I'm here, Harry. We'll be all right. Professor Dumbledore and the others already know we're gone. They're out looking for us right now. They'll find us." He felt warm breath through his shirt, and the blood begin rushing through his body, heating him from ears to fingertips. Oh, God. It shouldn't feel this good to hold somebody. Particularly when that somebody is the child of a long dead childhood friend. He felt Harry's arms creep shyly around his waist, looking for acceptance. Shutting his eyes, Remus cut off his tortured thoughts, determined to simply be, without agonizing. He ran his hands lightly up and down Harry's back, even going so far as to smooth down that scruffy head of hair. "It's all right, Green Eyes," Remus crooned quietly.

Harry had gone from Hell to Heaven in a matter of moments. Remus was touching him. Remus was holding him. He didn't care if Remus meant it like a parent or a lover or a friend, because nobody had ever held him like that before. Harry could never remember anyone making him feel this way--like he was needed, and wanted, and loved. And safe. God, the only person he'd ever felt this safe with was a werewolf. He wondered what that said about his common sense.

For a long, long time, they stayed that way; they leaned into one another and reveled in each other's arms. Harry was calmed by the steady thud of Lupin's heart, and Lupin was touched by Harry's innocent faith in him.

After sitting that way so long that his back began to cramp, Harry reluctantly pulled away. Lupin dropped his hands to his sides at once. Harry tried to ignore the churning regret in his stomach, pointing at the tray on the floor. "What's that?" he asked.

"I'd be willing to bet it's food of some kind," Remus told him, "but I have extreme doubts as to whether it's safe to eat."

Harry sighed. "So...what do we do?"

How about getting a shag in before they kill us? Remus's over-stimulated brain suggested hopefully. He winced, smothering the thought. He had to get control of himself. Remus glanced around the room. There was a small window, high up near the ceiling, but it had a thick bar right across it and he knew neither one of them would fit through it. He jiggled the door a bit, but of course it didn't give at all. He and Harry explored the room carefully, looking for anything that might give them an edge. They were severely disappointed. "I'm sorry, Harry," he said once again. "Give me a bit of time to think it over, would you?" He wanted to at least give the impression that he'd be able to come up with a clever scheme.

"All right," Harry said agreeably. "I'll just...sit for a bit and read. I'll give you some quiet, and it'll take my mind off of things. Okay?"

"Sure, Harry."

Unfortunately, watching those wide, luminous eyes trail over the pages, while that sweet little mouth moved to form the words, and the wet tip of a tongue intermittently peeked out, as Harry concentrated...was not conducive to thinking productive thoughts. After a while, Remus shut his eyes, hoping that by blocking out the sight, he'd erase the attraction. Of course, that didn't help, either, as it enabled him to picture what he'd like to see so much more clearly...

Harry, meanwhile, was alternating between the absolutely enthralling book, and the absolutely appetizing-looking Remus Lupin. The man had apparently given Harry his robe at some point, and Harry was astounded (and gratified) to see the man was wearing a very faded, threadbare pare of jeans. This was one item of clothing that Lupin could wear out completely, and--in Harry's eyes--it would only improve. And the dark shirt made the silver in Remus's hair seem far more sexy and stylish and almost...intentional. Harry hid a grin, forcing his eyes back down on the book. Stop looking at what you're never going to have, he chided himself. The poor guy is tired, and instead of helping, you're undressing him with your eyes! Actually, he hadn't been, but his conscience had a point, there. He sneaked another glance from under his lashes, watching the man shut his eyes and lean his head back against the wall. First, off with the shirt...he thought impishly, before stifling his impulses. Book! Book, Harry, book! You remember those, don't you? Why did his conscience sound so god-awfully like Hermione? He gritted his teeth, torn between aggravation with himself for wanting to continue to ogle the man, and aggravation with himself for not taking advantage of the opportunity to do so. Book? Ah, yes. It's that great square thing currently hiding my erection. He shook his head roughly. STOP THAT!

Firmly, he focused on the words in front of him. A werewolf mates for life. It cannot change its mind. Once a werewolf has mated, a powerful drive will impel it to stay near its partner. A werewolf's bond to his or her mate can only be broken by death. Oftentimes if the human partner should die before the werewolf, the werewolf will pine away and die...Harry frowned at this. How incredibly sad. But still somehow very sexy. He risked another look at Lupin. What a handsome creature he was. The human mate will also find it craves the company of its werewolf partner, and the two will find it difficult to be apart for significant lengths of time. The couple often finds the urge to be near one another especially strong in the beginning, when the bond is still developing. It is during this fundamental formative stage that the two must find their place in the bond, and learn to work within its boundaries.

Harry heard Remus give a sigh of frustration, and realized the man was locked in his head with his own thoughts, and likely irritated about not thinking of a way out. Harry frowned. Remus wasn't getting anywhere. Well, it wasn't Remus's fault. Perhaps if Harry distracted him for a little while, his mind would stop going in circles.

"It says here that a werewolf won't hurt his chosen mate, because he views the mate as 'pack,' and the instinct to preserve the pack is stronger than the instinct to destroy," Harry read aloud. "Isn't that interesting? You said you didn't know anything about that--er--werewolves mating for life and all. Or it wasn't true or something. What was it you said?"

Remus smiled a little. Harry was so obvious, but it was sweet, really. Always trying to take care of the people around him. He should have known the boy would come to life if Remus showed the slightest sign he might be wallowing in despair. "I don't know if that particular part is true," he informed the boy. "You get different opinions from different people. I haven't actually met more than a handful of werewolves and for obvious reasons we aren't really social creatures, so few would be inclined to seek a mate, even if that option were open to them. I spoke with one couple in Greece several years ago, who swore that it was true; that they had mated young and every word Ignobal wrote on the subject was gospel. On the other hand, a friend in Mayfield told me that it was...falsehood, and that although he 'followed the instructions,' nothing ever happened. I'm inclined to believe it's a rather outlandish tale of entertainment, myself."

"You don't believe it's real, then?" Harry said sounding disappointed even to himself.

"It does make for a good story, doesn't it?" Remus grinned at him. "And I'm not saying I don't believe, just that...well; let's just say I'd prefer to withhold judgment until I'm in possession of all the facts, or at least have seen some evidence one way or the other."

"Huh." Harry shrugged and glanced back down at the book. In its own special way, it was almost as engaging as Lupin. "It sure is detailed, if it's completely untrue. Listen to this; 'The werewolf is nearly always the dominant partner in the pair, no matter how shy or reticent they may seem to the outside world.'" Harry couldn't resist a rascally smile in Remus's direction. "I wonder if they're like, the opposite of how they usually are, then. You know; like however shy they are is equal to how dominant they are?"

Remus looked up sharply, surprised at Harry's boldness. "Inversely proportionate?" he supplied, his mouth working on automatic.

"Yeah, that. If that were the case, you'd have to be pretty dominant, then, wouldn't you?" he asked teasingly, those green eyes alight with impudence. "I mean; you'd be a real monster in the bedroom, wouldn't you?" Harry was half shocked at the words coming out of his own mouth, but he couldn't stop, and didn't really want to. He was locked in a tiny room with one of the hottest men he'd ever met, and he was feeling acutely sexually frustrated. In response, he was lashing out and seeing what buttons of Lupin's could be pushed, and how far he could push the man.

Lupin, for his part, was staring directly at his feet, fighting frantically against the heat creeping up his cheeks. He could not believe Harry, sometimes. If the boy only knew what Lupin wanted, he'd never have said such foolish things. Dominant one. Ha. Yes, I'm the epitome of dominance; I can't even look him in the eye!

Harry saw the man blushing and was mesmerized. He really IS shy. I should probably stop teasing him; its obvious he doesn't like it. "Sorry," he muttered, feeling a little ashamed.

Remus took a deep breath. Don't alienate him by acting all prudish, he instructed himself. But for God's sake, Lupin, do NOT let him see you're turned on! "It's quite all right, Harry," he told the boy gently. "I'm not going to get angry with you for teasing me. You seem to apologize to me rather frequently these days, and it really isn't necessary. I don't know why you'd think I'd be upset with you, or what you think I'd do if I was, but I can assure you that it's probably nothing that awful. And the only time I've ever been angry with you was the time you put yourself in danger for no reason. Even then, I didn't feel anger so much as...well, fear that something would happen to you. So you needn't be afraid of me. Do you understand?"

Harry swallowed hard and nodded. "I know you wouldn't...you usually don't...you're not an angry sort of person," he tried to explain, but had difficulty finding the words. It was so complicated. It's just that I killed Sirius and you were Sirius's best friend and my mum and dad died because of me and THEY were your friends, and it seems like I've done nothing but hurt you since the day I was born, even if it wasn't intentional...plus, I'm developing a huge crush on you, and on top of all that I'd like to prove to all of you that I'm not a child anymore, and I deserve to be taken into confidence and...It just went on and on. And most of it was stuff he'd never be able to say. Finally he settled on, "When Sirius died..." his voice caught, and it took him a moment to go on. "I didn't. I never--I...I never had much time with him. But I still liked him a lot. He was like a dad to me. Or older brother, or maybe a real uncle or something. He was like family. And I. Never really told him anything about that. I never told him I'd miss him if something happened, I never said I loved him--"

"He knew all the same, Harry," Lupin assured him, coming to kneel next to the cot. "And he loved you as well--you were the son he never had--the thing that made it worth everything he'd been through. He was wildly proud of you, Harry." It hurt to think of Sirius--hurt still. God, what would Sirius have thought of this--Remus's indecent lust for his godson?

"Yeah," Harry was saying softly. "But I was being such a prick all the time. I was so mad and I kept snapping at everybody, and when he told me to go back to Snape and ask him to restart my Occlumency lessons, I didn't. I didn't and--" Harry broke off in a choking voice, and Remus got up on the cot put an arm around his shoulders.

"None of that matters, and none of it ever did. Things happen the way they happen. That's just the way it is. Harry, Sirius knew you cared about him. He understood--more than understood--your difficulties with Professor Snape. And he was well aware that mood swings and generalized anger are a pretty typical state for a teenaged boy. He was fifteen himself once, you know." Remus anxiously rubbed Harry's back, wishing there were someone better at this sort of thing around. After all, Remus, himself, had never been fifteen. Not mentally. Oh, sure; when the boys were around, getting into trouble, he sometimes got swept up in it, but...on the whole, he'd felt too much pain, seen too much, been too different to ever feel like a normal teenaged boy. He supposed Harry was much the same, now that he came to think about it.

Harry was chewing his lower lip again. "I guess one of the reasons I don't...that I...try not to make you mad at me...try not to get into arguments with you...is that any time at all, it could all end, and--and. I don't want my last words to you to be something I said while I was mad," he admitted to his hands, which were folded in his lap.

"Oh, Harry," Remus murmured, leaning over and resting his chin on the youth's head. "You needn't worry over that. People fight, sometimes. People say stupid things. That doesn't mean they don't care about each other, or think the other person doesn't care about them." He pulled back to look at Harry's face. In his own way, though, Remus knew what Harry was talking about. He'd spent most of his school years too frightened of losing James and Sirius to ever stand up to them, ever argue with them, even when they really needed or deserved it. When you came right down to it, Remus had never been the brave one or the bold one. And in the end, it was usually up to James to be the strong one. Lupin sighed mentally, bringing himself back to the present. "I know you care about me, and I hope you realize that I care about you. That isn't going to change, even if we have an argument about something." Remus became aware that he was being studied intently, and looked down to see intense emerald eyes blazing into his own.

"I..." Harry's voice trailed off. Remus cared about him. He knew the man cared about him--at least, he knew on some rational level, but...he'd never expected to hear him say it. Remus had never been very demonstrative. Remus was the soul of restraint. Remus was, in fact, entirely too British for his own good. Harry smiled crookedly at this thought. "I do care about you. I care about you a lot." Harry felt his cheeks turn pink, and knew Remus had noticed by the way his eyes strayed down the boy's face. It had felt good to say, but Harry suddenly found himself shy. "Do you...really care about me?" he asked, breathless and blinking a little, only half-aware that what he was doing was flirting with a werewolf. He wasn't actually even thinking anymore--his brain had shorted out from an overflow of affection and desire, and all he had left to work with was instinct.

Remus watched those pretty eyes fluttering at him, the cheeks flushed, and even Harry's posture--knees locked together, heels turned out, shoulders moving smoothly from side to side as the boy squirmed a little--it all seemed to be arranged in a particular way. It conveyed innocence--oh, yes, there was that--but also an inordinate amount of...seduction, as well. Remus noted wildly that one of Harry's hands was delicately creeping up to rub the boy's chest in an unmistakable gesture of arousal. Dear God! The boy had no idea what he was doing! Calm down, Remus, he told himself. He probably doesn't even realize he's doing it. But why was he doing it? The youth was unconsciously flirting with Remus. Did that mean he was attracted to Remus on some level? Of course not--don't be silly. He's doing this because he's a teenaged boy with hormones in overdrive, and you happen to be the only one in the room. It took all of Remus's long-practiced composure not to yank his hands away from the boy--whose body was hotter than a moment before, very hot--Yes, I could swear his body temperature's gone up, he's nearly scorching my hands, Remus thought frenetically. At the same time, it took all of Remus's self-restraint not to shove the boy down on the bed--or floor--or against the wall, it hardly mattered--and rip his clothing from him and run his hands all over that porcelain skin and taste him and feel him and ride him--

The man became aware that Harry was looking at him expectantly, and remembered that Harry had asked him a question. He groped back in his memory, but could find nothing but imagined images from moments before. "...What was that again?" he finally gave in, feeling his heart going at a ferocious pace.

Harry tilted his head, eyes wide, and smiled a little. "Do you really care about me?" he repeated.

"Of course I do," Lupin said huskily, his voice blanketed in lust. He saw Harry's eyes darken, and the boy reached up to take his face in his hands, pulling the man down into an inexperienced kiss. No, no, no! This can't be happening, Remus panicked, no self control, too close to the apex of the cycle, mustn't do this--mustn't mustn't, must NOT--James and Lily would kill me, Sirius would kill me, Dumbledore would kill me-- but even amidst these rational thoughts, his body had gone completely beyond his control. His grip had tightened on the boy's shoulders, his other hand to Harry's hip, and his lips had responded enthusiastically. Of course, that was nothing to what his body was doing beneath his robes, but at least Harry wasn't aware of that.

Harry was beyond Heaven. There were no words to describe this paradise. He let one of his hands stray up into Lupin's hair, tangling in the soft strands. God, that was nice. The sound Remus made in the back of his throat when Harry did it was even better. Harry's other hand slid down to the man's chest, where he worked his fingers into the space between two buttons on Lupin's shirt, greedily seeking the rough hair he'd felt there earlier. He just managed to brush against it with the very tips of his fingers, and let a sigh out through his nose.

Abruptly, the door to the room snapped open, and Remus leapt back from the boy. There was a Death Eater standing in the doorway, managing to communicate a sneer even though he wore a mask. Remus suddenly realized that he'd been more worried about being caught in a compromising position with the youth than protecting him, and hurled himself between the Death Eater and the boy. He should have known someone would come to check in on them. It had to be morning by now, at least.

"I thought you might want to know," the Death Eater told them in Lucius Malfoy's unmistakably smug drawl, "that we've breached Hogwarts' security, and that the castle will shortly fall to us. My master had sanctioned me to give you one last chance at survival. Join us, and you will be spared."

Harry bit his lip, knowing he had to let Lupin take charge--wanting Lupin to take charge. He snuck a quick glance at the werewolf, who was bristling at the offer, his lips pulled back in distaste. When he realized Harry was watching him, he seemed to master himself once more, that calm alter ego sliding into place.

"I don't see how that would benefit us in the least," he said quietly. "Voldemort is not a man to keep his promises. Nor, it must be said, are you. This being the case, I find it difficult to believe you've managed to get within Hogwarts' walls, and this all isn't just a very stupid ploy."

Lucius's bearing tensed, as though he was extremely angry. "You may think whatever you like," he told them in clipped tones. "Though I find it very rich; having my honor impugned by someone who is not even human. We have entered Hogwarts, and I shall take especial pleasure in knocking each and every one of its stones to the ground." His eyes glittered maliciously.

Harry was shocked when Lupin suddenly collided with the man, driving him into the wall and scrabbling to tear the wand from his hand. "Expelliarmus!" Harry heard Lucius snarl, and with a burst of light, Lupin was thrown across the room, coming to rest on the cold stone floor. Harry jumped in front of him, arms out as if to fend off another attack.

Lucius merely laughed long and disdainfully. "You see how your little hero leaps to your rescue? Have you told him, wolf, what you will do to him if my master has not finished sacking the castle by nightfall? Have you explained that you will rend the meat from his bones like the animal you are?" He laughed again at the expression on Lupin's face. "Or had you forgotten tonight was the full moon? Do you know, I hope the Dark Lord is detained at Hogwarts. I think it would be such a fitting end for the boy, ending his existence as dog food by proxy." He chuckled again, and whirled, striding quickly out the door and slamming it behind him.

"Re--I mean, ah. Are you all right?" Harry asked worriedly at Lupin's side. He tentatively reached out, letting his fingers rest lightly on the man's upper arm. What if he was angry about the kiss? Stop that, you idiot, Harry reprimanded himself. That isn't important, now. He could really be hurt!

"Oh, I'll live, Harry," Remus grunted. "I think my ribs may be a little bruised, and my back is sore, but it would take more than that to finish off a werewolf." He sighed. "Back to square one, aren't we? I had hopes that with Lucius distracted on his superiority digression, I might have been able to get his wand away. Alas, I'm not as spry as I used to be."

Harry looked at him admiringly. "I was really impressed that you tried, though. Scared to death that he'd really hurt you--but impressed all the same. I really didn't expect you to do that--it was so fast and everything!"

"Not fast enough," Lupin responded, smiling wryly. "It's...because the full moon is so close," he whispered. "I get a little...reckless around this time. Although it does sharpen my senses, and often the adrenaline gives me a boost of strength, so...I was hoping it might just be enough to prevail."

"It almost was," Harry told him bracingly. "It was really a good show, by the way. It's kind of funny. Like one minute you're mild mannered Professor Lupin, and the next, you're Superwolf."

Lupin rolled his eyes at this, but if anything, his smile stretched a little wider. After a few moments of silence, it faltered. "I should not have done that," he stated.

"Nah, doesn't matter," Harry assured him. "It was a good try and all, and you nearly managed it."

"Not that," Lupin said shortly.

"Oh." Harry thought for a few moments. "But...you didn't do that. I did that. It wasn't your fault. Er. Are you mad at me?"

Lupin could have choked on the irony. "No, Harry, I'm not angry with you. I'm angry with myself for giving in to a very brutish urge. And you needn't blame yourself; I'm the adult here, this whole thing is my responsibility. I'm your professor and protector, and I haven't done a good job at being either one, of late. And though I care very deeply for you, what we just did was wholly inappropriate for a wide range of reasons."

Harry was suddenly angry. He should have known Remus would act like this. He should have known. He got to his feet, pacing back and forth, pausing now and again to give the cot leg a savage kick. "Don't do this, Remus," he fumed. "Just. Don't. Don't you dare pull this sanctimonious bullshit on me. I want you and you want me and that's all we need to know. That's all that matters. Isn't it? Well? Isn't it?" Harry stared at him, eyes flashing with ire.

Remus rubbed the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes. To Harry, it would seem that simple. At sixteen, love was incredibly clear-cut. I love you and you love me, forever and ever. Only someone completely inexperienced thought that way. He thought back to his sixth year, curled in Sirius's arms. It had all seemed simple. It was amazing how quickly simplicity ended, and duplicity began. "Harry..."

"No! I want you. I want you," Harry said, aware that he was sounding whiny, and knelt between the man's knees. "I trust you. How could I ever trust anyone else this way? And you are being a good professor and protector. You're taking the blows they'd be giving me, and you're...showing me things I need to know. I want you to show me how to kiss, and how to touch...how to be with someone like that...if not you, then who?"

Remus shuddered, keeping his eyes shut. He could not watch Harry's mouth while he was saying things like that. "Merlin, Harry, that's...I won't say it's not tempting, because it is. But you have to understand, it's all so much more complicated than that." Harry started shaking his head, but Remus overrode his protestations. "I am a dark creature, Harry. I don't always have control." The thought of what would happen that night, if they were not rescued, made his blood turn cold. "I do not wish to hurt you, and I don't know if I could help myself. And there are...I'm...damn it, Harry; I'm in a position of trust. You said it yourself; you trust me. I refuse to take advantage of that trust, and anyway...I'm not really good at this sort of thing. I'm not...even if you were looking for someone older, someone to guide you through this sort of situation--"

"Sex, you mean," Harry interrupted angrily. "Call it like it is, at least. Someone to be my first. Someone to take my virginity. Say it."

"Sex," Remus echoed, trying to ignore the ranting youth. "Even if that's what you wanted, I'm in no way fit--I'm not the ideal candidate for that, I--I've had little enough experience, myself, and most of that was with Sirius, who only recently died, and I just don't think I can cope--"

"You...you and Sirius?" Harry gasped, his face horrified.

"Well, I'm sorry if it offends you, but--"

"No. No, I'm sorry." Harry was very white, now. "I didn't...I'm sorry."

Remus looked at him for a long time, but the fight seemed to have gone out of the youth. "It's all right," he said quietly, keeping in mind his oath to let the boy know it was all right to fight with people he loved. He felt his heavy lids slide down again.

"No, it's not," Harry replied bitterly. Then, "Could we just change the subject?"

Lupin's eyes popped open, focusing on the cynical child before him. What was he to say to that? It should have been someone else...he shouldn't have been the one taken with Harry...he was just not enough. "Twenty questions?" he heard himself say hoarsely, and the boy nodded without looking at him.

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Remus did not have any way of telling the time, but he could feel its passing. He felt each moment tick by, each compounded minute like a lifetime of weight on his soul. Hours trickled past, bringing the future ever closer to the present. Tonight he would become a killer. Tonight, he would become a predator. Tonight, he would end the life of Harry Potter. Jesus. Not that. Anything but that. He would have even offered himself to Voldemort, but he knew that those people turned on each other as quickly as they did their enemies, and that their word meant absolutely nothing.

Harry hadn't looked at Remus once in the last few hours. He couldn't believe he'd made such a...such a misjudgment about the whole thing. Remus and Sirius...it just made sense...it just seemed right. He wondered why he hadn't seen it, before. Because, let's face it, Potter...unless it jumps in front of you wearing a sign with glowing red letters, you hardly ever notice things like social signals. And now he felt triply guilty over his godfather's death. Remus must hate him. How could he even pretend otherwise? Harry curled in on himself on the cot, looking around the room. He'd wanted so much to get out, to find a place to be with Remus and be free, and now... This is exactly what I deserve, he told himself in disgust. I'm glad I haven't eaten anything, I'm glad I'm someone's prisoner, and if they torture and kill me, then--well. I don't know. It won't help Remus, will it? And whatever I deserve, he certainly doesn't, and he's here, too.

But the worst part--the absolute worst part of the whole situation--was that Harry still had a crush on Remus. He couldn't stop the feelings, couldn't make them go away. Who wouldn't love Remus? He was always so sweet and so kind and even when Harry did something totally awful--like throwing himself at the man--he continued to be nice, and logical and, to at least some extent, conscientious of Harry's feelings.

Remus watched Harry out of the corner of his eye, cursing himself. He hadn't meant to hurt or anger the boy, but he obviously hadn't handled the incident with the care it required. Well, if Harry couldn't accept the fact that he and Sirius had once been lovers, there was nothing Remus could do about it. It wasn't something that could be undone, nor would Remus have undone it if he could. He'd loved Sirius, even if after Azkaban something had been broken between them. By that point in their lives, neither one of them was completely whole or sound anymore, and they had both learned to make due with whatever intimacy they could muster.

All the same, watching the boy's thin frame pulled up into a knot of pain made Remus flinch. He would have liked to say something, anything, to comfort Harry, but...the wolf was strong, now, and getting stronger every moment. What was merely an echo of need inside his own head a few hours ago would now not be able to approach the boy without evolving into a ravenous beast. Remus was fairly certain that he could at least channel the want into mere lust for the boy, but he couldn't decide which was worse: the thought of attacking Harry to devour him, or the thought of attacking the boy to rut with him. It would be rape, he kept reminding himself. Oh? Even though he wants it every bit as much as you do? Remus gritted his teeth. Even then, because he only thinks he wants it. Tomorrow, things will look very different. He stared at the boy on the bed. Yes, because tomorrow he'll be dead, and even if they rescue you, it will only be to put you down. Remus shuddered. They would put him down, and he would deserve it. Any werewolf that killed a human being was automatically going to get capital punishment.

After another hour of these thoughts swirling through Remus's mind, he saw Harry sit up and look at him.

"Tonight is the full moon, isn't it?" he asked dully. Remus didn't trust himself to reply, so he merely nodded. "I'm sorry. I know you don't want to. I understand you can't control it. It isn't your fault."

Remus understood what the boy was saying, and felt his gut twist. I know you don't want to hurt me. You can't help it, so I forgive you. "I don't want to hurt you," he affirmed. "I really, truly do not want to hurt you."

Harry smiled a little. "What if we...mated...like in the book..." he trailed off, not looking at Lupin.

"No, Harry. I don't want to do that to you, either. I mean; I do want to...I can barely control it right now. The wolf is fighting to get out, you don't know how hard...just...please don't say things like that, Harry. Not now. You don't know what it does to me--or what I'd like to do to you. That's almost as bad--"

"At least that way I wouldn't be dead!" Harry shot back, face flushed.

Remus went very pale. "I'm sorry. But there isn't even any evidence that that would work. It's just a myth. And then, I'd have hurt you twice. I couldn't bear to do that, Harry." The boy looked away for a long time, but finally nodded. "I'm sure the Order will come for us, soon."

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Night was falling, and no one had come for them. Remus had even gone and screamed through the door, hoping he could make one last attempt at negotiation, but the entire place seemed empty, filled with nothing but fear and echoes. Harry merely watched silently as Remus paced.

The youth wished Remus were more terrifying. More monstrous. That would make it easier. Perhaps then Harry would have at least been able to concentrate on other possible courses of action. As it was...Remus was stunning. His eyes were both darker and brighter than they usually were, his tongue kept slipping out to run along his lips or sometimes his teeth, and his movements! God, Harry had never seen anyone move with such powerful, alluring grace before. His muscles worked like oiled snakes, smooth and fluid. Harry was having a difficult time thinking at all, as the man's strong shoulders shifted, his biceps clenched and unclenched, and his...Good grief, idiot; stop drooling over the man's arse, Harry told himself sternly. If he catches you at that...

Suddenly, Remus dropped to the floor, wrapping his arms around his knees and resting his forehead on them. Harry tensed, but the man was still a man. "One hour to go...two if we're lucky," he whispered.

Harry ached for the man--in every conceivable sense. "I'm sorry," he told him again. "Look...this isn't your fault. And they'll have to understand that, as well. You can't help this. And I'd never blame you. I'm sure the others won't, either--"

Remus gave a short, cynical laugh. "It won't matter what the others think or feel. There are laws about this sort of thing."

Harry cocked his head to the side, concerned. "What do you mean?"

Remus heaved a heavy sigh, causing his shoulders to rise greatly and fall again. "There are many laws governing dark creatures in the wizarding world. One is that if a werewolf kills a human, it must be put down." He gave a snort. "Like a rabid dog. It's lost control, you see. There are no second chances."

Harry gaped at him in horror. His own death--well; he'd been thinking about that for a long while now. Years, in fact. He didn't look forward to it, but he was probably less terrified of it than he might have been. But Remus didn't deserve to die--none of this was his fault! He had to do something. He had to do something.

He wants you, Harry told himself. He admitted as much. If you went to him, now, touched him, now...he wouldn't be able to say no. Harry breathed deeply, brow furrowed, trying to decide if that was the right course of action. It would probably hurt, with him in this state. He could just lose control...it could hurt a LOT. He watched the man's ragged breathing. But it would give you a chance, wouldn't it? a sneaky little voice in his head suggested. It would give you both a chance. Harry stared at the man's figure for a long time. Yes...a chance...

He got slowly to his feet and walked over to the man. Kneeling carefully, he tugged the man's arms away from his knees and face. Remus's head jerked up. His eyes met Harry's, and widened in sudden understanding. "Harry...don't...please. No," he croaked.

Harry slid one slender hand between the man's knees, and felt them give way. Pushing, he crawled between Lupin's strong legs and leaned in close to the man's lips. "Yes," he whispered insistently, and pressed forward.

It was more than a little gratifying, how short a time it took for those lips to part, and the tongue to be coaxed out, quickly overcoming his own and leaving the security of its home to explore Harry's mouth. Harry moaned softly, and could hear Remus echo the sentiment. Harry knew beyond a doubt that this was wrong...that was probably why it felt so good.

Remus had given in hours ago. His will had broken, and he knew that it would only take one last attempt by Harry in order for his defenses to fall completely. It was astonishing how good it felt to give in. Since he could no longer stop this, he settled for telling himself that he must not hurt the boy. This was all he had left within his power to give.

Sliding powerful arms around the boy's waist, Remus pulled him closer, pressing Harry's body up against his own. It nearly caused a system overload when he had that searing form against his erection, and he felt Harry's own length against his stomach. He was sure the boy enjoyed this, too, by the ragged whimper that came from his throat.

His throat. Remus ceased to breath for a moment, before allowing that it might not be such a bad thing. But no biting, he reminded himself. He pulled back, untangling his tongue and stared, panting, into wild green eyes.

Harry could not believe any of this was happening. It was so far beyond his expectations he hardly knew what to do with himself. And when Remus pulled away from his mouth, he wanted to sob at the loss, but then realized those smoldering eyes were staring into his own. God, the man was beautiful. "Remus..." he hissed, and suddenly the man yanked him closer, mouth open and working against Harry's neck. It tickled, yet it didn't. The wet heat against his sensitive skin felt wonderful. With a groan, he reached up and dug his fingers into the man's silver shot hair.

Remus ran his tongue up and down the salty flesh, gnawing gently here and there. Gentle, gentle, gentle...he told himself. Damn it, I need a leash. This thought made him shiver violently with desire. He and Sirius had never bothered with things like that before. They'd never really gotten the chance. Suddenly, it seemed like a fun idea to try out. Harry's hand snaked down between them, rubbing Remus through his jeans. Mmm. Or Harry needs a leash. That would be fun, too. He let out an uneven breath. Argh. I am a perverted old wolf.

Harry bit his lip softly, debating what he should do next. Tentatively, he tugged on Remus's shirt and began unbuttoning it. Remus pulled back just long enough to give him an encouraging smile, then started unbuttoning Harry's shirt in return. Harry's nimble fingers finished the job quickly, and began tracing lines up and down the man's chest, interweaving them in the coarse hair. "You are very sexy," Harry whispered shyly. Thin scars crisscrossed Lupin's muscled pectorals, and Harry leaned in to deftly follow one with his tongue.

This was Remus's undoing. Forgoing the tedious process of undoing the buttoned shirt, Remus grabbed each side of the fabric and jerked hard. The small, round plastic bits jumped off, clattering off the dungeon walls. He heard Harry gasp, and looked up quickly to see whether he'd scared the youth. Instead, he met eyes lidded with desire. He yanked the boy down into another heated kiss, running his hands roughly all over that smooth skin. He caressed the slim back muscles, let his palms feel every inch of Harry's Quidditch-honed upper arms, trailed blunt fingertips down and over hard little nipples, causing Harry to arch and gasp, breaking the kiss.

Harry fought to control himself. This was better than he'd ever imagined, like he'd been living in a world where apple pie was the only dessert in existence, and suddenly someone had thrown open a pantry door, and there were cakes and creams and mints and all sorts of delicious things he'd never dreamed of. He found that he was starving, salivating for this, for anything he was offered. And, he dimly noted, Lupin's mouth tasted like chocolate. "Please, Remus," he choked out, as the man's wet mouth sucked and sucked at his collarbone. "This is...I mean--" he broke into a cry as the older wizard slid his talented tongue down Harry's chest, over his nipples, in and out of the indentation of his belly button. "I don't--the book said--we had to do--a lot of things...I don't think I'm going to be able to do much of any of it...I'm already very close."

Remus seemed like he might have mercy on the youth, pulling away to look at him. Then, however, he smiled devilishly. "You're sixteen, Harry. Don't worry about ending it too soon. You'll find you're quickly ready to go again." Harry gaped at this. Where was the shy professor he was so used to?

Harry gasped as the man stood, gathering him into his arms and carrying him to the cot. Hands trembling, he continued to unclothe the student, before reaching down and grasping Harry's shaft in his wide hand. As Remus lightly kissed the tip of Harry's cock, Harry moaned, shifting slightly. Then a voice inside his head taunted, All the better to eat you with, my dear, causing him to giggle breathlessly. And then he was engulfed in Remus's warm mouth, and it was hot and slick and stars exploding in the sky, he could see them even indoors, even with his eyes closed, and he fisted the werewolf's hair and gave a strangled shout and nothing could ever, ever feel this good again.

Remus sat back on his haunches, gazing at Harry's stunned, sated expression with amusement. His hair stuck up everywhere, and a flush had infused his entire body. The youth was practically glowing. He could feel the wolf inside slavering for more, and clenched his teeth to hold it back. He would go slowly, however much the monster inside told him to snatch and consume and ravish the boy. He bent over the lean body and captured Harry's lips with his own, feeling the gasp of surprise the boy gave when Remus pushed his tongue between those swollen lips once more. It did not take Harry long at all to adjust to this new diversion, and he licked back hungrily and enthusiastically. That's one step done, according to the book, at least, Remus noted to himself.

He spent sometime working over Harry's body again, fighting the pull of the moon that threatened to rise. How long? An hour? Forty five minutes? A little longer than an hour, even? So hard to judge... He felt Harry extract himself from the man's lips and rasp, "Remus, I want you inside of me."

Remus's head flew up, and the beast inside was roaring for this, begging for this. He thought he'd do anything in the world to hear Harry say that again. "What was that?" he growled rapaciously, curving his tongue over the shell of Harry's ear. The boy's hips bucked up, and he felt Harry's hardness once more.

"Don't be coy," Harry grated, drawing a rumble of laughter from the man. "I know damn well you heard me. I. Want. You. Please, Remus." He did the movement with the hips again, eliciting a noise between a snarl and a groan. "I want you to fuck me."

"Oh, dear God," Remus replied, panting heavily. "Stop saying things like that, unless you want to give me a heart attack. Do you want to kill me?"

Harry smirked. "You're the one who keeps saying werewolves can't be killed that way. So I'm sorry if it's an unconvincing argument right now. It's not silver, and it's not fire, so you'll live. And fuck me." He grinned when Remus whimpered.

"I give in. You win. Stop talking like that; it's thoroughly maddening." He grabbed hold of his robes, hunting through the pockets until he found the base oil he'd picked up earlier. He looked up at Harry, eyes pleading as he asked, "Are you entirely positive you want this?"

"Don't be a twit, Remus," Harry sighed. "You have no idea how much I want this." He jerked his hips up once more, and then found himself pinned to the cot by one of Remus's...paws, one could say, gripping his waist.

"Yes, need a leash, definitely a leash for you...collar, leash, impractical leather-wear," Remus babbled at him, pouring the oil over just about every body part he could find. He steadied himself a few moments, hand gliding over Harry's arse. "Harry...are you sure--?"

"ARGH! Stop torturing me and just do it!" Harry yelled, startling the man. Remus responded by giving a shuddering sigh and pushing one finger into Harry's body. Harry's eyes widened, and Remus froze. "Don't stop," Harry urged.

"All right," Remus replied uncertainly, beginning a heated rhythm within the tight channel. When Harry began to make ecstatic noises and push against the man's hand, he added another finger. Finally, with the youth writhing and panting beneath him, the wolf storming and throbbing in his head, Remus lowered himself and pushed into the boy. Once again, he stopped and watched Harry's face for a signal. "Does it hurt?" he murmured. "We can stop if it hurts..."

"Stupid werewolf," Harry gave him a sly smile, taunting him. "It doesn't hurt that much. Why aren't you moving? What are you waiting for, an engraved invitation?" He arched his back, and Remus gave a long, shuddering breath through clenched teeth.

"Tell me if you need me to stop," he begged, knowing all the while it would be useless, because he couldn't, now, even if he wanted to. He began moving carefully, lost in the sensation but painfully aware of Harry's needs, Harry's body, Harry's fragility. If this did not work, he would hurt the boy enough later on. For now, he clung desperately to his humanity.

Harry's mouth, meanwhile, was working non-stop, saying things like, "More," and "Faster," and "More," and "Harder," and "Fuck," and "More." Remus was merely making a keening noise as he struggled to keep his sanity.

"Forget the leash," he panted. "What we really need for you is a gag."

"Harder, Remus," Harry replied in a whiny, impatient voice.

"Shut up," Remus responded, choking with laughter.

"Make me," Harry leered.

"Fine," Lupin bellowed, and crushed his lips to Harry's as drove in harder and harder and Oh, God, don't hurt the boy, though of course the damned demon child wasn't making any distressed noises at all, but rather needy, wanton sounds that drove Remus absolutely crazy. And finally, he was crying out in pleasure, voice scratchy and raucous, fingers digging into Harry's hips as he thrust with wild abandon. As soon as he began to come off of the orgasmic high, he was slapped in the face with a gauntlet of self-loathing, but it had been great while it lasted, and Harry had followed quickly, his exhilaration-filled yells echoing the werewolf's own.

Before Remus had even begun to recover, Harry reminded him, "You still have to mark me."

"I don't want to bite you," Lupin muttered sulkily. Somehow, drawing blood from the boy with his teeth was far worse than simply boffing him. Which was not a worthy thought, in either case. He sighed, letting his head fall to the youth's chest. Harry's deft fingers ran through his hair, petting him gently.

"If it's not something you enjoy doing, then let's get it out of the way so you can move on to things you do enjoy doing," the Boy Wonder said reasonably.

"Good lord. Don't give me Hermione-esque quotations now, of all times," Remus chastised, and Harry had to laugh. The man sat up slowly, and pulled Harry up beside him. He looked the youth's body over speculatively. "Where do you want it?" he finally asked.

"Oh, everywhere you can give it to me," Harry rejoined immediately in a sultry voice.

"Twice in one night and it's not enough?" Remus arched a brow. "And they call me an animal." He let out a slow breath through his nose. "We'll have to put it somewhere it won't be seen...Harry, you do realize what I've done would probably be considered just as bad, if not worse, than killing you, don't you?"

"What we've done, and I realize what they'd do to you and no, I don't intend anyone to find out," he countered. They stared at each other for a tense moment. "Nape of my neck," he said decisively.

"What?"

"The nape of my neck. My hair already covers it, and I could grow it out a bit. Besides, it would be less sensitive than say, my thigh or my stomach or something. Go on." He turned, tilting his head down.

Remus swallowed. Not much time left. He didn't want to do this. Merlin, how he didn't want to do this. Do it fast, he instructed himself. He positioned his mouth over Harry's neck, and pressed his teeth against the soft skin. "You know, I rather like it when you're rough with me," Harry said in a contemplative voice, and Remus, in shock, bit down hard. "Ow!" Harry cried, jerking away and clapping his hand to the back of his neck. "That stung far worse than I expected it to do."

Remus ran his tongue along his teeth, tasting the coppery tang, and felt the wolf howl within. "What on earth did you think, you little prat?" he replied absently. "That it would tickle?"

"You know, we both have to trade blood," Harry pointed out.

Remus nodded. He was aware of a growing sense of self-castigation, and anger that he'd let all of this happen. If only he'd been on his guard in the first place...placing his tongue between his teeth, he snapped his jaws on the muscle. Punishment, he thought with a small sense of satisfaction. Then he cupped Harry's face in his hands, and gently introduced their tongues again.

When the werewolf pulled back, Harry stared at him. "Go into the bathroom and get cleaned up," Remus ordered brusquely. Harry grabbed his clothes, untangling them from Remus's, and did as he was told. Remus stared into space for a few moments before going to join him.

"What are we going to do about the buttons?" Harry enquired after putting on his shirt. "I look a right idiot, without any buttons."

"I am entirely without sympathy, you wretched flirt. Anyway, you begged me to do that, you know." He ran his fingers through his hair, aware that soon it wouldn't matter; soon the moon would rise. Minutes? Seconds? Will this have made any difference at all?

A loud noise came from the other room, and they both craned their necks to see Kingsley Shacklebolt and Nymphadora Tonks bursting into the room. "Thank God we found you!" the woman cried, and grasped Harry's hand, yanking him forward.

"They're in here!" Shacklebolt called, and Severus arrived almost instantly, bearing a steaming goblet.

"Hurry, you careless jackass," he urged, and Remus swallowed the whole thing in one gulp.

They'd been rescued. And there was absolutely no need for him to have made Harry his mate.

Tonks was looking at Harry awry. "Harry?" she said in tones of concern. "What happened to your shirt...?"

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