FQF Fic: Legacy, Lupin/Draco, 1/1, NC17
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bottom_dracoAt long last I have finished my FQF fic for the FQF in response to challenge #43. As I am not overly creative with titles, this is a tentative one and suggestions are very welcome.
Title: Legacy (tentative)
Author: Ociwen
Rating: Eh...NC17. I'd say R, but I rate low.
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, his world, or anyone he knows unfortunately. They belong to J.K. Rowling, not me and I make no money or profit from doing this whatsoever.
Author's Notes: Written as a response for the![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
bottom_draco FQF challenge #43:
Pg. 96 PoA
Harry dropped into a seat at the Gryffindor table, next to George Weasley.
... "What's up with you, Harry?" [said George.]
"Malfoy," said Ron, sitting down on George's other side and glaring over at the Slytherin table.
George looked over in time to see Malfoy pretending to faint with terror again.
"That little git," he said calmly. "He wasn't so cocky last night when the dementors were down at our end of the train. Came running into our compartment, didn't he Fred?"
"Nearly wet himself," said Fred, with a contemptuous glance at Malfoy.
"Wasn't too happy myself," said George. "They're horrible things, those dementors . . . ."
Run with that.
Much thanks to![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
lilybbloom for the superfast, supergood beta. You cannot know how much I appreciate this and owe to this woman my life!
When Draco Malfoy showed up at Number 12 Grimmauld Place after his father had died, Remus Lupin wasn’t quite sure what to expect.
The Aurors had fudged up Lucius Malfoy’s soul-sucking and instead of his body being given to Draco, his legal heir, it was dumped into the North Sea. That’s what they did with the bodies no one wants, apparently.
Not that Draco wouldn’t have wanted his father’s body, but there was a glitch in that he was only seventeen. The Auror filing the paper work neglected to include the fact that Lucius Malfoy’s will stated Draco would receive all his bodily possessions (including himself) even if his son were under eighteen.
Remus had heard from McGonagall at the most recent Order meeting that Draco Malfoy had insisted on going straight home, by himself, after his father’s body was dumped over the fortress walls of Azkaban. He had watched it all- the soul-sucking, the dumping- and he wanted to be alone. The Aurors escorting him there, including Tonks, allowed him to do that.
As much as Remus loved Tonks, he couldn’t believe that she and her Auror team had allowed a seventeen year old boy to be by himself after his father’s death.
Snape, though, had been the one to check up on Draco that first week.
And then Snape had contacted him by floo that same night, his sallow face looking...well, Remus would have said flustered, but he wasn’t quite sure.
“Lupin,” he said through the green flames, “are you there?”
Remus looked up from the book he had been reading. It was a dreadful old thing, full of Dark Magic from the Black’s library, but there wasn’t much else to do that night. There had been a full moon less than a week ago and he was still tired and recovering from his last transformation.
“Severus? What is it?”
Snape had gone on to explain that he was at Malfoy Manor with Harry checking up on Draco. He hadn’t said outright he was worried about the boy, but Remus could see it in his eyes. They had found Draco curled up in his bed, refusing to get out. The house elves had been frantic and running around the room because their master hadn’t eaten anything in a week and he just lay in bed.
Snape said that Draco was petrified of Dementors, that he kept dreaming of them, seeing them and that he’d been too afraid to even get up to use the bathroom. Not only had he and Harry found Draco Malfoy curled up in his bed, but he was covered in his own piss and sweat and filth. Remus cringed inwardly at the thought of it. He hadn’t thought the boy had ever been that scared while he taught at Hogwarts, but then he never really got close enough to have known for sure.
Remus wasn’t quite sure whether or not to believe Snape’s story. He remembered the pale, pointy-faced spoiled boy from his teaching at Hogwarts. He hadn’t gone over the Patronus with any third years other than Harry, but Malfoy didn’t seem too unfazed by the presence of the Dementors at the school that year.
Or so he thought.
Snape wouldn’t be able to take the boy in because- Remus himself knew this- Harry wouldn’t have stood for it, but Remus offered to have Draco stay at Grimmauld Place, until he could at least master the Patronus charm. There was the possibility of it not doing much, but it might be enough to help a bit.
It started off slowly and innocently enough for Remus.
He showed Draco, who may or may not have been pouting, to one of the guest rooms on the second floor. The nicest room was Sirius’ old room, where he himself was staying now. There was no reason Draco couldn’t have the second-nicest room. Besides, it was the cleanest and least-infested with Doxies.
It was, however, at the opposite end of the hall from Remus, and despite Snape’s aside that the boy actually was piss-scared of Dementors, including in his dreams, he reckoned that if anything were to happen, he’d be able to hear it in time and help. That was one decent thing about being a werewolf- better hearing, taste, smell, sight and touch.
He was wrong.
The very first night Draco was there, after the boy had shut himself in the guestroom and not even come out for dinner, Remus was awoken by screaming.
It wasn’t really bloodcurdling, it wasn’t really feminine, but it was loud and frightened. Remus yanked a robe over his naked body and ran down the length of the hall. Luckily he didn’t trip on any of the lumps that sometimes spontaneously appeared under the carpet. He pushed the door open and used a Lumos charm since the house had no electric lights at all.
Draco was tossing and turning in bed, the sheets tangled up in his limbs. He was moaning, interspersed with desperate screams of “No!” and “Don’t!” Remus touched his shoulder gently and the boy awoke with a strangled gasp.
“Shhh...it’s alright,” Remus said in his best consoling voice.
Draco’s breath started to slow as his wide eyes adjusted to the faint light. He lay back under the covers. Remus pushed a sweat-slick hair off his brow and mumbled more soothing words- they really just poured off his tongue because he didn’t think about them.
His nose was twitching at the smell of sweat and urine that permeated the room. It was feral, primal fear. He knew Draco was mortified by the hang of his head, the shame in his eyes and the embarrassment that mixed with the smells of everything else. Wordlessly, he helped Draco out of the dampened sheets. Draco’s fingers clung to him like terrestrial tentacles, but the boy was careful to keep a wide distance.
Remus couldn’t quite figure out why he was doing that until he looked at the boy to use a cleansing charm.
Draco had been sleeping naked.
His tongue caught in his throat as though it had suddenly sprouted a pelt of thick fur. He prayed Draco had more Malfoy blood in him than Black blood. The Blacks- oh he remembered being as besotted with older Andromeda Black as a schoolboy, as much or more than Sirius. Regulus, even, and Sirius himself had been such a weakness for him, for his body. The way they carried themselves, the shape of their eyes, the line of their necks, their legs, their personal pride. It was so erotic and enticing.
He shook his head, forcing those thoughts from his mind. The best thing for nightmares would be a mug of hot chocolate and a warm bed.
“C-come with me,” he told Draco.
Draco followed Remus to the end bedroom, head hanging, but his body was at ease. Remus thought about housing Draco in the bedroom across the hallway, but he wasn’t sure if there was another Boggart living there or not. He’d need to check in the morning. He used his wand to light a few fat pillar candles that flickered grey smoke and he nodded for the boy to lie down.
On his bed.
“You can stay for the night.”
Draco did as he was told and crawled into the covers as Remus left.
It took everything in Remus not to wank himself in the kitchen. He leaned against the table and closed his eyes, remembering the feel of Sirius Black under his body all those years ago, remembering the feel of squirming Regulus Black, humping and moaning and arching that Black Neck, years before that, remembering how Andromeda Black would walk down the halls at Hogwarts, not like the self-conscious second year he was, but a noble seventh year woman.
He steadied himself and walked back up the stairs. When he returned, Draco was fast asleep and curled up, snoring ever so slightly.
Remus set the hot chocolate aside on a table and got into bed himself, first making sure to slip on an old nightshirt of Sirius’. He couldn’t help but feel guilty over it all- yes he’d grieved and moved on, but whatever had possessed him to invite Draco, a Black relative, to sleep here, in Sirius’ bedroom. The bedroom that they had shared for the scant year before his death.
In the low light of the candles, though, the way Draco’s mouth quirked in his sleep was reminiscent of Regulus Black mostly, but also Sirius. It must have been a Black trait, that mouth, at least when it wasn’t spewing obscenities about Purity. Those lips that were plump enough to provide a convincing pout and that were so sensuous to kiss. He wondered- if he should dare, would they be so tantalizing?
Remus caught himself leaning over Draco’s sleeping form. No. He wouldn’t do that.
A few days later, he proved himself wrong again.
The night after Draco had first slept in his bed, a sheepish-looking boy knocked on Remus’ door at half-past ten. He was, thank God, wrapped up in a robe, but his feet were bare and slim legs poked through the bottom.
“I- I don’t think...” he trailed off, staring at his feet.
Remus nodded. They worked on the Patronus Charm all that morning and Draco didn’t make much progress. Had it been too soon after his father’s death to try? Remus wasn’t sure, but he didn’t want to press too hard.
Remus let Draco into his bedroom and the boy neatly folded his robe (a black robe with a crested ‘B’ retrieved from the attic) over a chair and slipped into bed beside Remus. He put down the tome he had been reading and snuffed the candle. He took care not to inch forward into that warm, nude boy only inches away. Remus wished the boy would have more discretion, more modesty, despite him being seventeen. It was so tempting to take Draco into his arms and kiss those lips and whisper all those words he hadn’t uttered to anyone else in so long.
Remus told himself he was just lonely. Tonks didn’t visit much any more after she got married and the Order only really met sporadically after Voldemort was defeated.
Draco grew on him. Gone was the snotty little third year boy he had taught. Things had changed.
The next night and the next night and the next night Draco came to his bedroom and slept there. His nightmares, at least, didn’t follow him. Each morning Remus woke up closer to him and on the fourth morning, Draco’s head was resting on his chest, those lips open to his breast and breathing warmth through the nightshirt he wore. Their legs, Remus’ on top, were entwined and for the first time Draco would have been able to feel Remus’ hard cock through the hair shirt that separated them.
But Draco didn’t say anything when he awoke, still in Remus’ arms, save for “What’s for breakfast today?”
And then he kissed Remus in the kitchen.
They had gone straight to practicing the Patronus again after eating. Draco’s big problem wasn’t his intent or his wrist movement or his pronunciation- they were all spot-on. It was his lack of focus. There were other things on his mind that hindered the actualization of the charm image.
But that morning, right after breakfast, he’d finally managed to conjure a fuzzy, white blob.
His eyes went wide and incredulous and his mouth broke out into a grin; his white teeth gleamed. “Did you see that?”
Remus smiled back, stopping himself just short of patting Draco on the shoulder in congratulations. “Good work.”
And then Draco turned his head, stepped closer and brushed his lips to Remus’.
Remus was more than just aware of the kiss when it happened. He saw Draco’s eyes searching his face, bolder than they had been in all the time he had been staying at Grimmauld Place. Remus felt his own lips parting eagerly as those others met his and he sighed just before they did, as if feeling the flesh on his own already, just before they met.
And when they did, oh it was…
So good. Better than he ever could have fathomed. So much like a Black’s kiss and yet there was something else hidden in it too, besides those smooth, full lips and natural skill. Barely a brush and his knees were weak, barely a touch and his cock was hardening at the thought of Draco naked on his back on Sirius’ bed-
“No!”
Remus wrenched his lips away. Draco’s mouth was still parted, but his eyes were wide and unblinking. His lip was…not quivering or trembling, but it seemed on the verge, like he was holding himself in check. He shook his head. “Why not?” he half-laughed, leaning forward again.
“Draco, don’t.” Remus stepped back. He had to, the boy was so close and it was so tempting.
“You’re not taking advantage of me.”
“That’s not-”
“Then what is?” Draco insisted, throwing his arms up in the air. “I sleep in your bed. I’ve felt you, every morning!”
Remus closed his eyes and wished it wasn’t happening. He had been sure that Draco had been asleep, that he hadn’t felt his erections. He did want it, what Draco was offering, but he wouldn’t take it.
He was still hung up on Sirius.
And Draco was still grieving.
Or so he should have been.
Remus didn’t answer the boy. Instead, he turned around and stared into the flames of the fireplace in the kitchen, watching the old hearth that normally didn’t need to be on at that time of year. Somehow, Grimmauld Place was always stone cold, even in summer, since Sirius died. The house had died along with its masters.
Draco left the room and Remus heard the tell-tale words under the boy’s breath:
“Fuck you.”
That night, Draco didn’t sleep in Remus’ bed.
He hadn’t come out of his room at all, not since he stomped up there after breakfast.
Remus was worried for him. And apprehensive too. He couldn’t just walk into Draco’s room as if everything were alright, as if nothing had happened. But he needed to check on the boy at the same time, in case something happened. Snape had trusted Draco in his care and if something were to happen, it would be on his head.
After dinner, he summoned the nerve to knock on Draco’s door. He rapped the wood three times. He cleared his throat, “Draco?” He kicked himself inwardly. He sounded so...contrived and pathetic, calling on a seventeen year old like this. He didn’t know how to handle teenagers, let alone one he had kissed, with disastrous consequences.
“Sod off!” was the muffled response from the other side of the door.
Remus’ tongue caught in his throat. Draco sounded...well, Remus could hear the uneven breathing and the muffled noises. “Look, Draco, I’m-”
“Well I’m not sorry!” Draco shouted back.
This was futile. This was no way to have a conversation. Remus reached for the doorknob and, predictably, it was jammed. Locked. He pulled out his wand but stopped himself. Draco wouldn’t do anything stupid, would he? He hadn’t yet.
Remus put a surveillance charm on the room before he went to bed. Just in case.
At half past ten, there was a knock on his door.
Remus hadn’t been expecting one. He had been reading, for one thing, and he was also naked. He grabbed a robe from the shelf and muttered a “Coming!”, but he wasn’t quick enough.
The door swung open and there was Draco. He was dressed in the same dark robes he’d worn the day he arrived and he was armed with a wand.
“Don’t” he said, his voice harsh and cold. He sounded an awful lot like his father had, like Tonks said Lucius still sounded like, right up to his soul-sucking when he refused to beg the Aurors for mercy, as most of the prisoners did.
Remus pulled the robes over his head hastily. “Don’t what?” His hand slipped for his own wand, just in case. The boy looked…murderous. Or determined. It was hard to tell with his eyes slit like that and his mouth pursed. That was definitely a Malfoy trait.
“Expelliarmus!”
“Reverto!” Remus was quicker than the boy. Not as good as Snape was at jousting, but not too shabby. Draco’s wand whizzed into his hand. Remus was torn between screaming at the boy for his stupidity and shaking his head and laughing. “What were you trying to do?” he asked instead.
Draco just stood there, as still as if he were under Petrificus Totalus and just as talkative. Then his throat moved, the smallest motion of him swallowing. Then his lips made one word.
“Why?”
Remus’ resolve fell as Draco’s fell further. He put the two wands down slowly and took a step towards the boy.
Until Draco’s lips pushed against his once more, Remus had thought that Draco was talking about his father, or maybe earlier that day, but once they were kissing again, it didn’t matter. Or rather, Draco was kissing him. They were fairly even in height, Draco having a slight advantage, and about the same weight, but Draco was the one who was forcing his tongue into Remus’ mouth and Remus was the one gladly accepting it now.
The second thoughts he’d had earlier fizzled as Draco pressed himself to Remus’ body and wrapped his arms around him. Remus could feel the boy’s erection through the material of their two respective robes and when it rubbed against his thigh- oh, it was glorious! Draco was no reincarnate Sirius or Regulus, his skills were entirely different and new.
Regulus never flicked his tongue, just like that, against Remus’ palate to make him moan just so. He groaned at it. It was tickling, teasing and very, very erotic, the way his tongue moved like the waves, moved like sex, so timeless and thrusting and in sync.
Sirius never wrapped his hands around Remus’ lower back, hitting that spot that made him thrust just that way into Draco’s erection. Remus was hardening so exquisitely and painfully and fully that he never wanted to stop this rubbing. Except to rip the clothes from the boy’s body, rip them like the flesh he wanted to sink his teeth into as a wolf.
And the smile he gave when Remus pushed him backwards onto the bed- that was nothing like Andromeda’s. No, it was…it was beautiful. It lit his face up like a child at Christmas. It was more than a grin, it was something wonderful.
And when Remus kissed that smile back, he could feel it spreading to his own face. He hadn’t smiled like that since Sirius died. And despite the fact that they were kissing and rubbing and grabbing at seams, buttons, hooks here on Sirius’ bed was irrelevant. It was as if Remus could feel Sirius, out there somewhere, cheering him on:
“Go Remus!” he was saying, “Good for you, go get laid! You need it bad!”
The little noises Draco made when Remus licked down his chest, they were magic to his ears. He was naked and writhing and panting and moaning, mewling, chirping. It was like being at a zoo, but better because there was a warm body, needing and rubbing underneath him. Remus rubbed their cocks together- no longer hindered by clothing- and Draco was sobbing with delight.
“Do it again!” he murmured, fingering Remus’ hair.
He felt young in Draco’s arms, young and normal and good. Their kisses melded into one long continuous stretch of oral foreplay as their hands explored each other. Remus kept his eyes closed- so much as he wanted to revel in Draco’s nude body, see the lines and planes of muscles and limbs and cock and bum, it was too hard to focus on that when Draco was stroking his cock and rubbing his other hand up the cleft of his bum. He did the same and Draco hissed.
“Oh God!”
Remus pulled back and opened his eyes. The light in the room was dim and low and shadowy and perfect for this. It reflected Draco’s pale chest and the fine lines his thin frame drew. He could make out the golden hairs sprouting below his navel and around his nipples, around the base of his hard, weeping cock that begged to be touched.
So he did. Touch it.
With his tongue. Draco whimpered and clawed at Remus’ hair like a cat. “Oh please! Oh God!”
Remus swirled his tongue around the tip, then down the side, then the other. It was salty and warm and it pulsated beneath his tongue. Hard, slick velvet on his even slicker mouth. Draco’s inner thighs were open to his hands, which kneaded the soft, hairless flesh. They quaked and shivered and he was so close.
“Please!” he begged.
Remus ran his hand along the shaft, then followed the line to the cleft of his bum. Draco sobbed and trembled, his cock oozing pre-cum that beaded on the tip.
“Please what?” Remus whispered hoarsely.
Draco groaned and arched under Remus’ hand, pushing his arse against his hand and grinding, attempting to get more friction than the light tease. “...Fuck me.”
“Gladly.” Remus didn’t think about his answer, it was instinctive. There was no sense of worry, or shame or repressed regret, no ‘what if’ or ‘why not’. He wanted to. Draco wanted to. It would be good and they both deserved it. Draco, especially.
Lubrication spells were tricky and cold, so Remus didn’t bother. He didn’t know Draco’s experience either- not that the boy was bashful or coy. The old oil, that Sirius kept in the chest drawer worked wonders. It tingled on his hands, slick and slippery, on his cock that twitched in eagerness. It tingled as he applied it to Draco’s skin, and the boy moaned and tensed and stiffened even more as Remus rubbed it down his back, his cock, his chest, his bum. Draco was so tight, even around one, two, three of his fingers as they pushed inside the boy. He didn’t mind it, though, and he panted as Remus toyed with his cock and his arsehole simultaneously.
“Just- please...” Draco’s breath was loud and his voice harsh and grating from the moaning and shallow screams of pleasure he’d been making.
There was no need to wait any longer. Remus’ own cock was tired of the foreplay, it wanted action. He spread Draco’s thighs wider, further back around his shoulders and lifted his bum higher. Remus groaned as he pushed back past the barrier- tighter than he could have ever imagined. It took all the resolve in him not to come just there, half-inside the boy who radiated heat and lust and sex like nothing else. Draco gave a choked cry and grabbed at the sheets, balling them with hands as Remus started to thrust.
They were both making incoherent noises- Draco’s of encouragement and begging; Remus’s of pure, carnal need. Remus wanted to stay wrapped up inside Draco forever, never leave such bliss.
But the boy was only seventeen, and when Remus pushed up at just the right angle, he was gone within two strokes. He cried out and came, jabbing his hips up harshly into Remus’ belly, come splashing between the two. His arse clenched and Remus’ eyes rolled back. It was the tightest, most perfect feeling he had ever experienced. He rushed over the peak, his thrusts erratic and fast as he emptied himself in Draco.
And then it was over.
They both stilled, Remus collapsing over Draco’s chest, pulling out to twine their legs at more comfortable angles. Their breathing slowed and the lights dimmed further, as though reflections of their own moods. Draco’s fingers brushed sweaty locks away from Remus’ eyes. Only Sirius had ever done that to him. It was as though, as though Sirius was really back and really telling Remus it was alright to move on.
Remus looked up and smiled into Draco’s eyes. The hollows that had been there, that had still been there that morning, they had vanished. Only to be replaced with a smiling, satisfied boy. Who had sweat beads dripping down his brow.
When he woke the following morning, Remus was alone, naked and cold. Sleepy hands reached for the covers only to find that they were underneath his body. He shivered. The house was too cold for his tastes; even warming spells didn’t do much.
There was a bright light coming from downstairs, from the kitchen. And there were several voices. Remus craned his ears for a better listen- Draco, and Snape, and Harry...and...Tonks and...
They sounded happy. Remus didn’t want to intrude on them, but then he heard Tonk’s voice boom from the landing of the stairs. “Remus Lupin, get your arse down here for breakfast now!”
On any normal day, Remus might have groaned and shuffled downstairs, but that day, there was a bounce to his step and a smile to his face. It was a nice change.
Until he passed Mrs. Black’s portrait.
“Sodomizing another Black, you werewolf scum, you?" she shrieked, "Disgusting!”
Remus just grinned and walked into the kitchen to join Draco at breakfast.
Title: Legacy (tentative)
Author: Ociwen
Rating: Eh...NC17. I'd say R, but I rate low.
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, his world, or anyone he knows unfortunately. They belong to J.K. Rowling, not me and I make no money or profit from doing this whatsoever.
Author's Notes: Written as a response for the
bottom_draco FQF challenge #43:Pg. 96 PoA
Harry dropped into a seat at the Gryffindor table, next to George Weasley.
... "What's up with you, Harry?" [said George.]
"Malfoy," said Ron, sitting down on George's other side and glaring over at the Slytherin table.
George looked over in time to see Malfoy pretending to faint with terror again.
"That little git," he said calmly. "He wasn't so cocky last night when the dementors were down at our end of the train. Came running into our compartment, didn't he Fred?"
"Nearly wet himself," said Fred, with a contemptuous glance at Malfoy.
"Wasn't too happy myself," said George. "They're horrible things, those dementors . . . ."
Run with that.
Much thanks to
lilybbloom for the superfast, supergood beta. You cannot know how much I appreciate this and owe to this woman my life!When Draco Malfoy showed up at Number 12 Grimmauld Place after his father had died, Remus Lupin wasn’t quite sure what to expect.
The Aurors had fudged up Lucius Malfoy’s soul-sucking and instead of his body being given to Draco, his legal heir, it was dumped into the North Sea. That’s what they did with the bodies no one wants, apparently.
Not that Draco wouldn’t have wanted his father’s body, but there was a glitch in that he was only seventeen. The Auror filing the paper work neglected to include the fact that Lucius Malfoy’s will stated Draco would receive all his bodily possessions (including himself) even if his son were under eighteen.
Remus had heard from McGonagall at the most recent Order meeting that Draco Malfoy had insisted on going straight home, by himself, after his father’s body was dumped over the fortress walls of Azkaban. He had watched it all- the soul-sucking, the dumping- and he wanted to be alone. The Aurors escorting him there, including Tonks, allowed him to do that.
As much as Remus loved Tonks, he couldn’t believe that she and her Auror team had allowed a seventeen year old boy to be by himself after his father’s death.
Snape, though, had been the one to check up on Draco that first week.
And then Snape had contacted him by floo that same night, his sallow face looking...well, Remus would have said flustered, but he wasn’t quite sure.
“Lupin,” he said through the green flames, “are you there?”
Remus looked up from the book he had been reading. It was a dreadful old thing, full of Dark Magic from the Black’s library, but there wasn’t much else to do that night. There had been a full moon less than a week ago and he was still tired and recovering from his last transformation.
“Severus? What is it?”
Snape had gone on to explain that he was at Malfoy Manor with Harry checking up on Draco. He hadn’t said outright he was worried about the boy, but Remus could see it in his eyes. They had found Draco curled up in his bed, refusing to get out. The house elves had been frantic and running around the room because their master hadn’t eaten anything in a week and he just lay in bed.
Snape said that Draco was petrified of Dementors, that he kept dreaming of them, seeing them and that he’d been too afraid to even get up to use the bathroom. Not only had he and Harry found Draco Malfoy curled up in his bed, but he was covered in his own piss and sweat and filth. Remus cringed inwardly at the thought of it. He hadn’t thought the boy had ever been that scared while he taught at Hogwarts, but then he never really got close enough to have known for sure.
Remus wasn’t quite sure whether or not to believe Snape’s story. He remembered the pale, pointy-faced spoiled boy from his teaching at Hogwarts. He hadn’t gone over the Patronus with any third years other than Harry, but Malfoy didn’t seem too unfazed by the presence of the Dementors at the school that year.
Or so he thought.
Snape wouldn’t be able to take the boy in because- Remus himself knew this- Harry wouldn’t have stood for it, but Remus offered to have Draco stay at Grimmauld Place, until he could at least master the Patronus charm. There was the possibility of it not doing much, but it might be enough to help a bit.
It started off slowly and innocently enough for Remus.
He showed Draco, who may or may not have been pouting, to one of the guest rooms on the second floor. The nicest room was Sirius’ old room, where he himself was staying now. There was no reason Draco couldn’t have the second-nicest room. Besides, it was the cleanest and least-infested with Doxies.
It was, however, at the opposite end of the hall from Remus, and despite Snape’s aside that the boy actually was piss-scared of Dementors, including in his dreams, he reckoned that if anything were to happen, he’d be able to hear it in time and help. That was one decent thing about being a werewolf- better hearing, taste, smell, sight and touch.
He was wrong.
The very first night Draco was there, after the boy had shut himself in the guestroom and not even come out for dinner, Remus was awoken by screaming.
It wasn’t really bloodcurdling, it wasn’t really feminine, but it was loud and frightened. Remus yanked a robe over his naked body and ran down the length of the hall. Luckily he didn’t trip on any of the lumps that sometimes spontaneously appeared under the carpet. He pushed the door open and used a Lumos charm since the house had no electric lights at all.
Draco was tossing and turning in bed, the sheets tangled up in his limbs. He was moaning, interspersed with desperate screams of “No!” and “Don’t!” Remus touched his shoulder gently and the boy awoke with a strangled gasp.
“Shhh...it’s alright,” Remus said in his best consoling voice.
Draco’s breath started to slow as his wide eyes adjusted to the faint light. He lay back under the covers. Remus pushed a sweat-slick hair off his brow and mumbled more soothing words- they really just poured off his tongue because he didn’t think about them.
His nose was twitching at the smell of sweat and urine that permeated the room. It was feral, primal fear. He knew Draco was mortified by the hang of his head, the shame in his eyes and the embarrassment that mixed with the smells of everything else. Wordlessly, he helped Draco out of the dampened sheets. Draco’s fingers clung to him like terrestrial tentacles, but the boy was careful to keep a wide distance.
Remus couldn’t quite figure out why he was doing that until he looked at the boy to use a cleansing charm.
Draco had been sleeping naked.
His tongue caught in his throat as though it had suddenly sprouted a pelt of thick fur. He prayed Draco had more Malfoy blood in him than Black blood. The Blacks- oh he remembered being as besotted with older Andromeda Black as a schoolboy, as much or more than Sirius. Regulus, even, and Sirius himself had been such a weakness for him, for his body. The way they carried themselves, the shape of their eyes, the line of their necks, their legs, their personal pride. It was so erotic and enticing.
He shook his head, forcing those thoughts from his mind. The best thing for nightmares would be a mug of hot chocolate and a warm bed.
“C-come with me,” he told Draco.
Draco followed Remus to the end bedroom, head hanging, but his body was at ease. Remus thought about housing Draco in the bedroom across the hallway, but he wasn’t sure if there was another Boggart living there or not. He’d need to check in the morning. He used his wand to light a few fat pillar candles that flickered grey smoke and he nodded for the boy to lie down.
On his bed.
“You can stay for the night.”
Draco did as he was told and crawled into the covers as Remus left.
It took everything in Remus not to wank himself in the kitchen. He leaned against the table and closed his eyes, remembering the feel of Sirius Black under his body all those years ago, remembering the feel of squirming Regulus Black, humping and moaning and arching that Black Neck, years before that, remembering how Andromeda Black would walk down the halls at Hogwarts, not like the self-conscious second year he was, but a noble seventh year woman.
He steadied himself and walked back up the stairs. When he returned, Draco was fast asleep and curled up, snoring ever so slightly.
Remus set the hot chocolate aside on a table and got into bed himself, first making sure to slip on an old nightshirt of Sirius’. He couldn’t help but feel guilty over it all- yes he’d grieved and moved on, but whatever had possessed him to invite Draco, a Black relative, to sleep here, in Sirius’ bedroom. The bedroom that they had shared for the scant year before his death.
In the low light of the candles, though, the way Draco’s mouth quirked in his sleep was reminiscent of Regulus Black mostly, but also Sirius. It must have been a Black trait, that mouth, at least when it wasn’t spewing obscenities about Purity. Those lips that were plump enough to provide a convincing pout and that were so sensuous to kiss. He wondered- if he should dare, would they be so tantalizing?
Remus caught himself leaning over Draco’s sleeping form. No. He wouldn’t do that.
A few days later, he proved himself wrong again.
The night after Draco had first slept in his bed, a sheepish-looking boy knocked on Remus’ door at half-past ten. He was, thank God, wrapped up in a robe, but his feet were bare and slim legs poked through the bottom.
“I- I don’t think...” he trailed off, staring at his feet.
Remus nodded. They worked on the Patronus Charm all that morning and Draco didn’t make much progress. Had it been too soon after his father’s death to try? Remus wasn’t sure, but he didn’t want to press too hard.
Remus let Draco into his bedroom and the boy neatly folded his robe (a black robe with a crested ‘B’ retrieved from the attic) over a chair and slipped into bed beside Remus. He put down the tome he had been reading and snuffed the candle. He took care not to inch forward into that warm, nude boy only inches away. Remus wished the boy would have more discretion, more modesty, despite him being seventeen. It was so tempting to take Draco into his arms and kiss those lips and whisper all those words he hadn’t uttered to anyone else in so long.
Remus told himself he was just lonely. Tonks didn’t visit much any more after she got married and the Order only really met sporadically after Voldemort was defeated.
Draco grew on him. Gone was the snotty little third year boy he had taught. Things had changed.
The next night and the next night and the next night Draco came to his bedroom and slept there. His nightmares, at least, didn’t follow him. Each morning Remus woke up closer to him and on the fourth morning, Draco’s head was resting on his chest, those lips open to his breast and breathing warmth through the nightshirt he wore. Their legs, Remus’ on top, were entwined and for the first time Draco would have been able to feel Remus’ hard cock through the hair shirt that separated them.
But Draco didn’t say anything when he awoke, still in Remus’ arms, save for “What’s for breakfast today?”
And then he kissed Remus in the kitchen.
They had gone straight to practicing the Patronus again after eating. Draco’s big problem wasn’t his intent or his wrist movement or his pronunciation- they were all spot-on. It was his lack of focus. There were other things on his mind that hindered the actualization of the charm image.
But that morning, right after breakfast, he’d finally managed to conjure a fuzzy, white blob.
His eyes went wide and incredulous and his mouth broke out into a grin; his white teeth gleamed. “Did you see that?”
Remus smiled back, stopping himself just short of patting Draco on the shoulder in congratulations. “Good work.”
And then Draco turned his head, stepped closer and brushed his lips to Remus’.
Remus was more than just aware of the kiss when it happened. He saw Draco’s eyes searching his face, bolder than they had been in all the time he had been staying at Grimmauld Place. Remus felt his own lips parting eagerly as those others met his and he sighed just before they did, as if feeling the flesh on his own already, just before they met.
And when they did, oh it was…
So good. Better than he ever could have fathomed. So much like a Black’s kiss and yet there was something else hidden in it too, besides those smooth, full lips and natural skill. Barely a brush and his knees were weak, barely a touch and his cock was hardening at the thought of Draco naked on his back on Sirius’ bed-
“No!”
Remus wrenched his lips away. Draco’s mouth was still parted, but his eyes were wide and unblinking. His lip was…not quivering or trembling, but it seemed on the verge, like he was holding himself in check. He shook his head. “Why not?” he half-laughed, leaning forward again.
“Draco, don’t.” Remus stepped back. He had to, the boy was so close and it was so tempting.
“You’re not taking advantage of me.”
“That’s not-”
“Then what is?” Draco insisted, throwing his arms up in the air. “I sleep in your bed. I’ve felt you, every morning!”
Remus closed his eyes and wished it wasn’t happening. He had been sure that Draco had been asleep, that he hadn’t felt his erections. He did want it, what Draco was offering, but he wouldn’t take it.
He was still hung up on Sirius.
And Draco was still grieving.
Or so he should have been.
Remus didn’t answer the boy. Instead, he turned around and stared into the flames of the fireplace in the kitchen, watching the old hearth that normally didn’t need to be on at that time of year. Somehow, Grimmauld Place was always stone cold, even in summer, since Sirius died. The house had died along with its masters.
Draco left the room and Remus heard the tell-tale words under the boy’s breath:
“Fuck you.”
That night, Draco didn’t sleep in Remus’ bed.
He hadn’t come out of his room at all, not since he stomped up there after breakfast.
Remus was worried for him. And apprehensive too. He couldn’t just walk into Draco’s room as if everything were alright, as if nothing had happened. But he needed to check on the boy at the same time, in case something happened. Snape had trusted Draco in his care and if something were to happen, it would be on his head.
After dinner, he summoned the nerve to knock on Draco’s door. He rapped the wood three times. He cleared his throat, “Draco?” He kicked himself inwardly. He sounded so...contrived and pathetic, calling on a seventeen year old like this. He didn’t know how to handle teenagers, let alone one he had kissed, with disastrous consequences.
“Sod off!” was the muffled response from the other side of the door.
Remus’ tongue caught in his throat. Draco sounded...well, Remus could hear the uneven breathing and the muffled noises. “Look, Draco, I’m-”
“Well I’m not sorry!” Draco shouted back.
This was futile. This was no way to have a conversation. Remus reached for the doorknob and, predictably, it was jammed. Locked. He pulled out his wand but stopped himself. Draco wouldn’t do anything stupid, would he? He hadn’t yet.
Remus put a surveillance charm on the room before he went to bed. Just in case.
At half past ten, there was a knock on his door.
Remus hadn’t been expecting one. He had been reading, for one thing, and he was also naked. He grabbed a robe from the shelf and muttered a “Coming!”, but he wasn’t quick enough.
The door swung open and there was Draco. He was dressed in the same dark robes he’d worn the day he arrived and he was armed with a wand.
“Don’t” he said, his voice harsh and cold. He sounded an awful lot like his father had, like Tonks said Lucius still sounded like, right up to his soul-sucking when he refused to beg the Aurors for mercy, as most of the prisoners did.
Remus pulled the robes over his head hastily. “Don’t what?” His hand slipped for his own wand, just in case. The boy looked…murderous. Or determined. It was hard to tell with his eyes slit like that and his mouth pursed. That was definitely a Malfoy trait.
“Expelliarmus!”
“Reverto!” Remus was quicker than the boy. Not as good as Snape was at jousting, but not too shabby. Draco’s wand whizzed into his hand. Remus was torn between screaming at the boy for his stupidity and shaking his head and laughing. “What were you trying to do?” he asked instead.
Draco just stood there, as still as if he were under Petrificus Totalus and just as talkative. Then his throat moved, the smallest motion of him swallowing. Then his lips made one word.
“Why?”
Remus’ resolve fell as Draco’s fell further. He put the two wands down slowly and took a step towards the boy.
Until Draco’s lips pushed against his once more, Remus had thought that Draco was talking about his father, or maybe earlier that day, but once they were kissing again, it didn’t matter. Or rather, Draco was kissing him. They were fairly even in height, Draco having a slight advantage, and about the same weight, but Draco was the one who was forcing his tongue into Remus’ mouth and Remus was the one gladly accepting it now.
The second thoughts he’d had earlier fizzled as Draco pressed himself to Remus’ body and wrapped his arms around him. Remus could feel the boy’s erection through the material of their two respective robes and when it rubbed against his thigh- oh, it was glorious! Draco was no reincarnate Sirius or Regulus, his skills were entirely different and new.
Regulus never flicked his tongue, just like that, against Remus’ palate to make him moan just so. He groaned at it. It was tickling, teasing and very, very erotic, the way his tongue moved like the waves, moved like sex, so timeless and thrusting and in sync.
Sirius never wrapped his hands around Remus’ lower back, hitting that spot that made him thrust just that way into Draco’s erection. Remus was hardening so exquisitely and painfully and fully that he never wanted to stop this rubbing. Except to rip the clothes from the boy’s body, rip them like the flesh he wanted to sink his teeth into as a wolf.
And the smile he gave when Remus pushed him backwards onto the bed- that was nothing like Andromeda’s. No, it was…it was beautiful. It lit his face up like a child at Christmas. It was more than a grin, it was something wonderful.
And when Remus kissed that smile back, he could feel it spreading to his own face. He hadn’t smiled like that since Sirius died. And despite the fact that they were kissing and rubbing and grabbing at seams, buttons, hooks here on Sirius’ bed was irrelevant. It was as if Remus could feel Sirius, out there somewhere, cheering him on:
“Go Remus!” he was saying, “Good for you, go get laid! You need it bad!”
The little noises Draco made when Remus licked down his chest, they were magic to his ears. He was naked and writhing and panting and moaning, mewling, chirping. It was like being at a zoo, but better because there was a warm body, needing and rubbing underneath him. Remus rubbed their cocks together- no longer hindered by clothing- and Draco was sobbing with delight.
“Do it again!” he murmured, fingering Remus’ hair.
He felt young in Draco’s arms, young and normal and good. Their kisses melded into one long continuous stretch of oral foreplay as their hands explored each other. Remus kept his eyes closed- so much as he wanted to revel in Draco’s nude body, see the lines and planes of muscles and limbs and cock and bum, it was too hard to focus on that when Draco was stroking his cock and rubbing his other hand up the cleft of his bum. He did the same and Draco hissed.
“Oh God!”
Remus pulled back and opened his eyes. The light in the room was dim and low and shadowy and perfect for this. It reflected Draco’s pale chest and the fine lines his thin frame drew. He could make out the golden hairs sprouting below his navel and around his nipples, around the base of his hard, weeping cock that begged to be touched.
So he did. Touch it.
With his tongue. Draco whimpered and clawed at Remus’ hair like a cat. “Oh please! Oh God!”
Remus swirled his tongue around the tip, then down the side, then the other. It was salty and warm and it pulsated beneath his tongue. Hard, slick velvet on his even slicker mouth. Draco’s inner thighs were open to his hands, which kneaded the soft, hairless flesh. They quaked and shivered and he was so close.
“Please!” he begged.
Remus ran his hand along the shaft, then followed the line to the cleft of his bum. Draco sobbed and trembled, his cock oozing pre-cum that beaded on the tip.
“Please what?” Remus whispered hoarsely.
Draco groaned and arched under Remus’ hand, pushing his arse against his hand and grinding, attempting to get more friction than the light tease. “...Fuck me.”
“Gladly.” Remus didn’t think about his answer, it was instinctive. There was no sense of worry, or shame or repressed regret, no ‘what if’ or ‘why not’. He wanted to. Draco wanted to. It would be good and they both deserved it. Draco, especially.
Lubrication spells were tricky and cold, so Remus didn’t bother. He didn’t know Draco’s experience either- not that the boy was bashful or coy. The old oil, that Sirius kept in the chest drawer worked wonders. It tingled on his hands, slick and slippery, on his cock that twitched in eagerness. It tingled as he applied it to Draco’s skin, and the boy moaned and tensed and stiffened even more as Remus rubbed it down his back, his cock, his chest, his bum. Draco was so tight, even around one, two, three of his fingers as they pushed inside the boy. He didn’t mind it, though, and he panted as Remus toyed with his cock and his arsehole simultaneously.
“Just- please...” Draco’s breath was loud and his voice harsh and grating from the moaning and shallow screams of pleasure he’d been making.
There was no need to wait any longer. Remus’ own cock was tired of the foreplay, it wanted action. He spread Draco’s thighs wider, further back around his shoulders and lifted his bum higher. Remus groaned as he pushed back past the barrier- tighter than he could have ever imagined. It took all the resolve in him not to come just there, half-inside the boy who radiated heat and lust and sex like nothing else. Draco gave a choked cry and grabbed at the sheets, balling them with hands as Remus started to thrust.
They were both making incoherent noises- Draco’s of encouragement and begging; Remus’s of pure, carnal need. Remus wanted to stay wrapped up inside Draco forever, never leave such bliss.
But the boy was only seventeen, and when Remus pushed up at just the right angle, he was gone within two strokes. He cried out and came, jabbing his hips up harshly into Remus’ belly, come splashing between the two. His arse clenched and Remus’ eyes rolled back. It was the tightest, most perfect feeling he had ever experienced. He rushed over the peak, his thrusts erratic and fast as he emptied himself in Draco.
And then it was over.
They both stilled, Remus collapsing over Draco’s chest, pulling out to twine their legs at more comfortable angles. Their breathing slowed and the lights dimmed further, as though reflections of their own moods. Draco’s fingers brushed sweaty locks away from Remus’ eyes. Only Sirius had ever done that to him. It was as though, as though Sirius was really back and really telling Remus it was alright to move on.
Remus looked up and smiled into Draco’s eyes. The hollows that had been there, that had still been there that morning, they had vanished. Only to be replaced with a smiling, satisfied boy. Who had sweat beads dripping down his brow.
When he woke the following morning, Remus was alone, naked and cold. Sleepy hands reached for the covers only to find that they were underneath his body. He shivered. The house was too cold for his tastes; even warming spells didn’t do much.
There was a bright light coming from downstairs, from the kitchen. And there were several voices. Remus craned his ears for a better listen- Draco, and Snape, and Harry...and...Tonks and...
They sounded happy. Remus didn’t want to intrude on them, but then he heard Tonk’s voice boom from the landing of the stairs. “Remus Lupin, get your arse down here for breakfast now!”
On any normal day, Remus might have groaned and shuffled downstairs, but that day, there was a bounce to his step and a smile to his face. It was a nice change.
Until he passed Mrs. Black’s portrait.
“Sodomizing another Black, you werewolf scum, you?" she shrieked, "Disgusting!”
Remus just grinned and walked into the kitchen to join Draco at breakfast.
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