(no subject)
Title: The Rainbow Connection
Chapter: 4/?
Universe: Harry Potter
Type: Slash
Genre: Humor
Pairings: Regulus/Lockhart with a side-helping of Sirius/Remus and minor showings of Lucius/Narcissa
Characters: Regulus, Lockhart, MWPP, Snape, Lily, Narcissa, Bellatrix, Lucius
Rating: PG-13 for language and vague sex talk
Summary: Two weeks later! Sirius is upset, Remus tries to help him, there's a full moon, and Snape defends his sexuality to the bitter end.
Spoilers: All
Word Count: 3,679
Disclaimer: JK Rowling made up the Potterverse; I just write the fanfic. No money is being made in this venture and I have nothing to sue for.
Beta: None
Previous: One, Two, Three
Sirius groaned loudly, dropped his bag near the foot of the bed, and fell spitefully back into the mattress without taking off his shoes; Remus removed both pairs before crawling into bed as well and nuzzling Sirius’s neck. Another groan came - albeit a softer one - and he wrapped an arm around Sirius’s waist. This appeared to mollify him slightly, as the groaning turned to sighing and he turned his head to give Remus a peck on the forehead…his lips were a little rough and chapped, but, given how the past two weeks had gone for him, it appeared that everyone was incredibly lucky that he hadn’t killed someone yet. First, there was Regulus, who hadn’t stopped pretending to date Lockhart yet, despite several rants from Lily and Sirius; this, however, was turning out to be the least of the problems.
Second, there were Malfoy and Bellatrix; Narcissa, ever the proper one, opted to keep herself out of everything related to this mess (except Malfoy, as James lewdly pointed out, earning himself a smack on the back of the head). Malfoy and Bellatrix, however, had both taken it upon themselves - as Sirius’s cousin and to-be-cousin-in-law - to owl his mum about Regulus’s behavior. In her gloriously bitchy manner, Mrs. Black had sent Sirius his third Howler this year, demanding to know, and during breakfast too, why he wasn’t watching over Regulus. And, before it exploded in flame, it threw in cheap shots at his sexuality and Remus. As usual, Peter had asked the question everyone wanted to, but no one else would: “How the Hell can the bitch’s throat survive that?” Regulus had been worse, though, and had taken the opportunity to kick while his brother was down: much to their fan club’s undisguised delight, he had presented Lockhart with flowers he’d transfigured from carrots (they were still brilliant orange) and terribly-written poetry; Lockhart swooned, simpered, and was generally disgusting. Poetry was something Remus could appreciate…but rhymed couplets were completely passé.
And then today, Sirius had been told off by Evans for being a “sulking git,” by McGonagall for accidentally setting fire to Peter’s attempts at transfiguring a bullfrog into a bell, and then by Malfoy for being “a complete disgrace to such an ancient name.” And then James had considered it a good idea to turn Lockhart’s hair bubblegum pink in the middle of the library. It was a NEWT-level spell, and he did manage to pull it off…but Regulus had only been encouraged, which caused in uproar in the fan club, which had attracted Madam Pince, who quickly set Lockhart’s hair right and wormed out James and Peter. Granted, they had been having a laugh about it behind a bookshelf, so she hadn’t had much work. She then proceeded to drag them, by the ears, up to McGonagall’s office; twenty points were lost and they had detention for a week, and…
“I will kill those gits,” Sirius hissed, glaring at the ceiling.
“That’s unnecessary,” Remus sighed warmly, tightening his hug. “Wouldn’t want you to go to Azkaban for killing your best mates, would we?”
“But, Moony…”
“What would I do knowing that you did that and were in prison? Who would invade my personal space while I’m doing homework?”
“…Fine. I won’t kill them…but they deserve it.”
“Padfoot, if you deserved death for every time you got detention, you wouldn’t even be a ghost.”
“But…this is different. I mean, it’s not enough that James has to fly in the match against Slytherin next week - even the best Chasers need practice, right? - but…the full moon’s on Saturday, Moony!”
“I’m well aware of that.”
“But…they’ll be in detention with McGonagall; it’ll just be us.”
“Yes, it will be.”
“Aren’t you worried, or anything?”
“No, not really. Sure, James is the biggest one, and Peter makes an amazing scout…but I like you the best.”
“That means a lot, love.”
“I think you can handle me; you’re good enough. Besides - wolf, dog…same difference.”
“Not really, Mister Meticulous.”
“Closer than a stag and a rat.”
“Well, I guess so…”
“And I love you.”
“You’ll forget that as soon as you’re the wolf.”
“But you won’t, or, at least, you shouldn’t. And that can be your motivation, and it’s a very good one, if I do say so myself.”
Sirius smiled and mussed Remus’s hair. “Ever the smart one, aren’t you, Moony?”
“I try, Pads.”
“Want me to get notes for you on Friday?”
“In Potions, yes please…” Remus yawned. “I’m going to fail that OWL, I know it…and Slughorn bloody hates me.”
“No, he doesn’t…”
“Says you…he loves you. Only softened up to me when Snape and James outed us in class. But, anyway, yes for that, don’t bother for Charms and Defense, I’ve got top marks in those…and don’t try too hard for Divination. Probably won’t have too many notes for that anyway…”
“Yeah…why are we taking that again?”
“You thought it would be easy.”
“Oh…right. Why didn’t you tell me I was being stupid?”
“Because we signed up in second year, and I was still reeling from how you, James, and Peter didn’t abandon me when you found out about my furry little problem.”
“Oh…right…are you sure it wasn’t because you were too busy staring at my unspeakably hot arse?”
“Sirius…you were twelve.”
“So? I was an incredibly pretty twelve-year-old.”
“…You’re ridiculous, you know that?”
“Yeah, but you wouldn’t have it any other way.”
“No, Pads, I really wouldn’t.”
“Love you, Remus.”
But Remus didn’t respond. It took Sirius a moment to notice, but the hand on his waist had moved to his shoulder, and Remus was now sleeping peacefully, with his head on the other one, pressed up against Sirius’s side. He could always fall asleep quickly, the lucky bugger, and…he was beautiful, in waking and sleeping. He’d never admit it, of course - he was modest like that - but this didn’t keep Sirius from telling him every time he got to…or from kissing his forehead, even though he couldn’t feel it anymore. And, slowly, his warmth lulled Sirius to sleep.
***
Sirius watched out the dormitory window, waiting for the first signs of Remus and Pomfrey moving across the lawn. The sky outside was already dark pink, getting close to purple…damn, she was taking her sweet time, probably checking Remus over for any new developments before escorting him out. If she really wanted to know, she could have just asked Sirius, and he would’ve willingly told her that there were no new developments, save that the whole Regulus-Lockhart fiasco was giving them both unnecessary stress (luckily for him, he manifested it more, which would mean shoulder massages once Remus was well). Finally, two shadows flitted across the grounds, and one helped the other past the Whomping Willow and down into the tunnel. Moving quickly, Sirius grabbed his wand and James’s Invisibility Cloak, and barreled down the stairs, knocking over Evans and a couple of first-years as he did. She yelled at him as he kept running, but she’d have to wait until morning.
When he reached the door to the grounds, he put the Cloak on and proceeded on his course. Although the night air was crisp and cool, he kept up his pace; Remus was going to need him very shortly, and he hadn’t been late for a date yet. The process was still new to him - this was only the second time he’d gone down the tunnel with a sense of urgency - but he only got scratched on the way. When he joined Remus in the upper level of the Shack, he was undressed and sitting on the bed, wrapped in a blanket. He smiled softly as Sirius crossed to him, and made some indecipherable, happy noise as Sirius hugged him around the shoulders.
He knew it wouldn’t last long - by now, it was already dark, and the moon would be up soon enough, full of those madness-causing rays - which had to be why he held on so tightly. This wasn’t fair. Remus never hurt anything intentionally, and accidental pain causing upset him terribly (even if it was just bumping into Snivellus or stepping on a bug)…he didn’t deserve this. And he was so calm about it, or had been since he’d been relieved of his monthly excuse making in second year. Sirius couldn’t understand how he could be so bloody calm before such a terrible storm, and he held on tighter, as though a hug could stop the inevitable. He buried his face in Remus’s shoulder; there wasn’t much space, since Remus was bloody skinny, but it helped him keep himself collected, which wasn’t helped by Remus stroking his hair. But at least he was trying. With forced stoicism, Sirius pulled away and marveled at how Remus was still smiling.
“It’ll be okay, Pads,” he sighed lovingly. “We’re used to this by now, right? You can be a big, brave dog for me?”
“You’re a braver bloke than me, Moony.”
“I most certainly am not. Almost wound up in Ravenclaw.”
“That’s ‘cos you’re brilliant, you prat.” Sirius playfully stuck out his tongue.
“You flatter me.”
“’cos it’s true.”
“Now, Sirius Black, I just don’t-”
He cut himself with a sort of choking gasp. He doubled over in pain, but swatted Sirius’s hand away when he tried to help…and then Sirius saw why: the moon had come up while he’d been distracted. Moonlight flooded over Remus, and it usually would’ve been attractive, had it not meant what it did. With strength he didn’t usually have, he pushed Sirius back into the stray chair. Holding onto the blanket for dear life, he slid off the mattress, hovering dangerously above the floor, only a few inches between his nose and hard wood. A groan came, then another, and then there was the ominous, cracking sound of bones enlarging themselves. Remus’s face began to elongate, becoming a muzzle and growing fangs, and his hands curled with the pain of turning into paws.
It officially wasn’t safe to be human, and Sirius quickly shifted into Padfoot. He approached Remus - the ears were elongating now; it was about halfway there - and gave him a supportive lick on the cheek. He came up with a mouthful of hair…at least the transformation was almost done now. A tail began coming out from Remus’s back as the fur spread and claws grew from both sets of paws. Quickly, his moans turned into a long howl and it was done: he was the wolf now, further demonstrated by how he dragged his claws across his arm, wailing in the way the villagers in Hogsmeade had become accustomed to. It was still new for Sirius - he’d only heard it twice before, and the first time, he couldn’t do anything about it - but Remus was still in the wolf somewhere, and he was the one who’d have to deal with the scars in the morning, so Sirius had to do everything to keep him from hurting himself. Padfoot barked at him, hoping he sounded dangerous, or, at least, distracting.
The wolf snapped his head up to look at the dog; Padfoot shook himself out, trying to look bigger and more intimidating. It didn’t work. The wolf leapt up and they circled each other, staring intently the whole time. Padfoot barked again, saying, “Back down.” But a clear swipe at his face - just barely dodged, and his forehead still got hit - reminded him that, no matter how much Remus was in there, he was not dealing with him right now. They repeated similar processes, punctuated by occasional fleeing on Padfoot’s part, until they were near the trap door and the moon went down, letting the sky turn gray with predawn light. Luckily, the wolf collapsed on the couch as the new illumination seeped into the Shack and slowly turned back into Remus. Since it was safe now, Sirius also shifted back.
Delicately, Sirius lifted him and took him upstairs, wrapping him in the blanket and setting him on the mattress. Unfortunately, he didn’t have Pomfrey’s medical supplies, but…at least the wounds weren’t deep or numerous this time. Although Remus wasn’t aware of it - damn heavy sleeper…okay, he wasn’t as bad as Sirius after the full moon, but he was still pretty bad - Sirius cast a quick Soothing Spell and kissed his cheek before putting the Cloak on and heading back to Gryffindor Tower for his well-deserved rest.
That didn’t last long. Completely disrespecting his late night, James and Peter dragged him out of bed after only a few hours…couldn’t have been more than five, but, either way, it wasn’t nearly enough. In his daze, he wound up in one of Peter’s too-big t-shirts and a pair of Remus’s too-small trousers, with James’s socks on his hands. He tried again, this time winding up in James’s pajama bottoms and Remus’s jumper; eventually, after three more failures, James gave up and handed him his own clothes. At breakfast, he dozed off and gracelessly fell into the plate of food that Peter got together for him, prompting Evans to skip harassing him about the previous night to ask him if he was all right instead.
But that was just the least of his problems, and Regulus’s French poetry (badly written and badly translated) was the least of his and Lockhart’s Sunday stunts.
First, Sirius went to the Hospital Wing to see Remus and deliver the monthly Honeyduke’s Special Dark; he was pale and appeared to have developed a weak cold - and he apologized so profusely for the scratch on Sirius’s forehead that Sirius had to kiss him to shut him up - but was otherwise okay. Then he apologized for being sick while kissing Sirius, thereby making him sick, so Sirius decided that it was a better idea to feed him his chocolate. And even though it was a Hospital Wing, full of sick people, Regulus and Lockhart were there, fawning loudly over some clumsy member of their fan club, who’d been unlucky enough to be alone in a corridor with Peeves…and each other, to the girl’s obvious joy. Unfortunately, the rules said that, since they were just being annoying prats, Remus couldn’t make them leave…so he assured Sirius that he could handle himself and told him to go write his essay on counter-curses for Defense. Sighing, Sirius kissed him good-bye and obliged.
And those two gits followed him to the bloody library with the rest of their fan club in tow. It took an incredible amount of Remus-like restraint to not go over and kick their teeth in…to his credit, though, Regulus had moved on to that Shakespeare Muggle. Man might not have had magic, but his poetry sure worked like it on Remus. Granted, Regulus didn’t seem to know what the Hell he was saying, but at least it wasn’t his own poetry…or in bloody French. After two hours of pawing through books, expanding on what was said and putting it in his own words, and listening to Regulus’s rendition of “Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day” (nine bloody times!), he stormed out of the library, through the corridors, and into the bright sunlight. Maybe some fresh air would do him good, besides, failing that, outside was on fire with autumn leaves and huge, Halloween pumpkins, so it was much more fun than the stupid, bloody castle.
Only that Regulus and Lockhart followed him there too, loudly romping and tickling each other in Hagrid’s leaf piles. Sirius tried to have fun rolling in the leaves…but he didn’t have a Remus to cuddle or a Peter and James to have a leaf-fight with, so the only thing he got out of it was leaf-bits in his hair. So he turned into Padfoot and tried again to enjoy himself; it failed. If only the stupid full moon hadn’t been yesterday…then he’d have his Remus and those idiots and their charade would be slightly more tolerable…slightly. Fed up with that insufferable giggling, he traipsed back insider…and they bloody followed him there too! And, apparently, respect for the solitude of the corridors was something completely lacking in their year.
“Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day?” Regulus sighed loudly.
“Oh, love,” Lockhart simpered. “You have…thirteen times by now. I’d much rather hear your poetry again.”
The fan club voiced unanimous approval, and Regulus began prattling off his mangled French again. Just to test them, Sirius stopped walking, almost knocking over Snivellus, who was carrying several books and looked slightly more displeased than usual…and his hair was dripping wet, making a nicely sized trail of water behind him. His face darkened as he looked over Sirius’s shoulder at Regulus, Lockhart, and their group-minded collective of girls.
“Black,” he huffed blandly.
“Snape,” Sirius growled. “…You’re wet.”
“Yes, and for once it’s not your fault.”
“…Interesting…only not…”
“…I don’t speak French, but I think your brother’s murdering it.”
“He is…Merlin, I want to throttle both of them…”
“I never thought we’d agree on something.”
“It’s bloody infuriating…they’ve been tailing me all bloody day…”
“Try living with them. Even with different dorms, they’re not fond of leaving me alone.”
“Voulez-vous coucher avec moi,” Regulus purred, “ce soir?”
Sirius twitched violently, which was apparently creepy enough to make Snivellus raise an eyebrow.
“I had no idea you respected other languages, Black.”
“No,” Sirius groaned. “He got that much right! I’m just going to kill him!”
“…May I advise against doing illegal things?”
“I’m only going to kill him a little!”
“Why isn’t Lupin giving you a Cheering Charm right about now?”
“He’s sick and in the Hospital Wing!”
“Oh, Reggie,” Lockhart sighed. “I love you…”
“Not as much as I love you, Gilly.”
“Black…you’re convulsing…”
“Oh, Reggie, you’re so sweet…”
“And good-looking?”
“Yes, that too. And your poetry-”
“IS BLOODY TERRIBLE IF YOU HADN’T NOTICED!” Sirius exploded, whipping around fast enough to miss the look of mild shock registering on Snape’s face.
“…Excuse me?” Regulus sputtered.
“JUST WHAT I SAID! YOUR POETRY IS TERRIBLE, AND SO ARE YOUR ATTEMPTS AT PRETENDING TO BE GAY!”
“…But we’re not pretending, Sirius!”
“YES, YOU DAMN WELL ARE! TRUST ME, REGULUS! I’M GAY, AND I THINK I CAN RECOGNIZE MY OWN KIND OF BLOKES!”
“Not very well, apparently,” Lockhart huffed incredulously.
“AND YOU! WEARING FLAMBOYANT COLORS AND SIMPERING LIKE A PRAT DOES NOT MAKE YOU GAY! NEITHER OF YOU ARE GAY, LET ALONE A COUPLE, SO WILL YOU EITHER PLEASE STOP PRETENDING TO BE OR QUIT BLOODY FOLLOWING ME AROUND!”
“But we are-”
“NO, REGULUS, YOU’RE NOT! KNOCK IT THE FUCK OFF ALREADY!”
“But-”
“LOOK! I’M DEAD TIRED AND INCREDIBLY TICKED OFF, DO NOT PUSH ME ANY FURTHER OR YOU WILL REGRET IT! DO YOU GET IT YET?!”
And, with that, Sirius stormed past them, heading back to the Hospital Wing to seek comfort from Remus.
***
Severus Snape was not having a good day either. Thinking that no one in his or her right mind would spend a Sunday in the Slytherin Common Room, he’d grabbed breakfast early and set himself up to write another stunning essay for Defense Against the Dark Arts. Simple enough topic, and one he could easily expand on. Shortly after finishing, he embarked upon writing up some similarly easy homework for Potions…only to be rudely interrupted by a spirited debate between Bellatrix Black and Lucius Malfoy about What To Do About The Kids. He merely rolled his eyes and tried to ignore it; Brother Black the Younger was clearly just doing it for this sort of attention, and Lockhart…well, Lockhart was just an idiot, really. When they tried to drag him into it, however…that was rather difficult to ignore. For the first time since meeting her in his first year, he actually felt gratitude towards Bellatrix’s older sister, Narcissa, for telling them to leave him alone, but Malfoy and the youngest Black sister were not to be distracted from their purpose.
“But, Cissy…” Bellatrix whined. “They hang around him like the flies!”
“Bella, he’s trying to work; he doesn’t need to participate in yours and Lucius’s little argument.”
“But, darling,” Lucius sighed warmly. “He’s obviously the best person to comment on this fiasco…”
“Excuse me!” Severus yelped.
“Oh, come on, Snape, everyone knows.”
“…I’m not gay.”
“…Oh. Care to jump in anyway?”
“…No.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes, Malfoy, I’m sure.”
“I don’t buy it,” Bellatrix scoffed.
“I’m really not gay,” he reaffirmed. “And, frankly, I don’t know why you care, about me or Lockhart and your cousin.”
Malfoy blinked, apparently befuddled. “Spindly little bugger’s got a good point, Bella…why do we care?”
“Thank you,” Narcissa hissed.
“Because it’s disgusting and we’re counting on Regulus to make heirs, since Sirius won’t, Meda got disowned, and Cissy and I don’t count?”
“Oh, right…”
Clearly, this was neither interesting, nor his business, so Snape packed up his homework supplies and moved to relocate to the library. En route, he had to duck into one of the tapestry-concealed passageways to avoid Potter, Pettigrew, and their enchanted water balloons; unfortunately, one managed to follow him. It only drenched his hair, but it was still irritating. Hoping to clear his head, he went through the passageway and found himself, while slightly relieved of his rage, still wet and a floor above where he wanted to be. Things didn’t get better when, on the proper level, he was nearly toppled over by Sirius Black. Black was promptly distracted by his brother and Lockhart, and, though he didn’t handle it well, their and their fan club’s confusion as he stormed off was incredibly amusing. While Black the Younger and Lockhart looked simply stunned, all the girls looked outraged, scandalized, and otherwise offended.
“What’s his problem!” one ditzy Hufflepuff huffed as Snape cast a Drying Charm on his hair.
“…Why isn’t it working?” Lockhart hissed to Black the Younger.
“…I don’t know,” Black the Younger sighed. “Maybe we should…hey! Snape!”
Snape looked up from his self-made distraction. “What? …Oh, no.”
“But…Snape, c’mon…”
“No,” he snapped and shoved his way past the gaggle of third-year stupidity.
Hopefully, the library would bring his much-needed respite from this insanity.