Ficlet: Return Of The Porntache
Ficlet: Return Of The Porntache (Deathly Hallows Edition)
By minnow_53
A/N: Flogging a dead horse department... This is a totally unnecessary sequel to Five Times Remus’s Moustache Wasn’t Mentioned in Canon. I wrote it back when DH came out, but never got round to posting it. Though it’s well past its sell-by date, I hope it will raise a faint smile or two. :/
Summary: In Book 7, Remus Lupin still doesn’t possess the secondary male sexual characteristic that we know and hate love.
Now crossposted to remusxsirius and the_kennel.
Return Of The Porntache (Deathly Hallows Edition)
***
Deathly Hallows, UK hardback edition, p. 16.
‘She has just married the werewolf, Remus Lupin. You must be so proud.’
Bellatrix preened. ‘Yes, we are. He may be a filthy half-blood, but Merlin, he certainly knows how to grow a ’tache!’ She glanced sideways at Voldemort, as if wishing that he too had a silken swathe of hair on his upper lip.
Rather self-consciously, Voldemort stroked the smooth skin under his nose. ‘Well, okay, he has a moustache. But I have a snake, don’t I, Nagini?’
‘No contest!’ jeered Bellatrix.
‘Lupin wouldn’t want you anyway, you stupid woman!’ Voldemort stood up, whiter than ever with rage, his borrowed wand poised to kill. ‘He’s got your young niece, and everyone knows he used to fornicate with that blood-traitor, Sirius Black.’
‘We like to keep things in the family,’ Bellatrix said. ‘Except facial hair,’ she added hastily, blushing at the thought of a woman with such an unsightly accoutrement. ‘Of course, there are bleaching spells,’ she babbled, then stopped when she noticed the Dark Lord’s expression...
Deathly Hallows, UK hardback edition, p. 175.
‘I - I made a grave mistake in marrying Tonks.’ Lupin would speak no further. He looked more miserable than Harry had ever seen him, and as he stared wildly round the kitchen, he clamped a hand over his mouth and gave a loud groan.
‘Have you got toothache?’ Hermione asked sympathetically, fumbling about in her beaded bag. ‘I know there’s some Cure-All Potion here somewhere...hang on a minute!’
But Lupin shook his head, continuing to groan softly, and refused to move his hand when Hermione offered to examine him. Eventually, she flounced off in a huff, muttering something about ‘ungrateful werewolves’, and Harry and Lupin were left alone.
Lupin kept his hand firmly over his mouth. He looked round, wild-eyed, like an animal at bay, then whispered to Harry, ‘An I a wor woo woo?’
‘What?’ asked Harry, and Lupin repeated, a bit more loudly, ‘An I a wor woo woo?’
Hermione popped her head round the door, and hissed, ‘He’s asking if he can have a word with you!’ And she disappeared again, still muttering to herself.
Lupin lowered his hand dramatically and stared directly into Harry’s eyes. Harry stared back, feeling rather uncomfortable, especially as he had no idea what Lupin was trying to convey.
‘My moustache,’ Lupin said, his voice so sad that Harry half-expected the man to burst into loud sobs.
‘Oh, no! It’s not a Horcrux, is it? Because if it is, we’ll have to wear it round our necks for the next six months!’ gulped Harry, almost in tears himself. ‘And Gollum, I mean Ron, will have a funny turn, and Hermione’ll cry for six weeks, and - ’
Lupin said stiffly, ‘It’s not a Horcrux, Harry. In fact, it no longer exists. Nymphadora made me remove it with a Shaving Spell on our wedding night. Did you not even notice? Are you so absorbed in your own petty problems that you can’t even look at an old friend any more?’
‘Well, I, I...’ Harry stammered.
‘I don’t think I care to wait for your explanation.’ Lupin’s voice was icy. ‘So long, Harry. Have a good life.’
Deathly Hallows, UK hardback edition, p. 487.
‘Here, I’ve got a picture!’ Lupin shouted. A chubby baby with turquoise hair waved and grinned at him from a crib. ‘He looks just like his Dad, Tonks says.’
‘’E ’as certainly got your moustache,’ Fleur remarked, as the Weasleys continued to stand in stony silence, staring at Percy.
‘He does, doesn’t he?’ beamed Lupin. ‘‘Except that mine isn’t turquoise, of course. And look, he has a goatee as well. Cool, eh?’
‘Absolutely,’ said Fleur, in a rather faint voice.
Deathly Hallows, UK hardback edition, p. 560.
Lupin was younger too, and much less shabby. His upper lip was graced by a wonderful walrus moustache, the most enormous Harry had ever seen. In spite of its size, it was well-trimmed and squeaky-clean, with no grey hairs to mar its thick beauty.
‘Does it hurt?’ Harry asked.
‘No,’ Lupin assured him. ‘It can be a bit prickly sometimes when I’m trying to sleep, and I’m not even going to start on what Sirius says when I try to give him a blow-job, but - ’
Harry felt his face going scarlet. ‘I’m not talking about the bloody moustache! Does dying hurt?’
Lupin turned away in a huff, and Sirius glared at Harry reproachfully.
‘For goodness’ sake, you know how sensitive he is!’ He put his arms around Lupin and murmured something in his ear. Harry thought he caught the words ‘the most beautiful ’tache in the world’ and ‘never been more turned on in my life, I mean my death’, but he couldn’t have sworn to it, because at that moment a roar arose from the Forbidden Forest.
Harry spun round in a panic. Swarms of Death Eaters were racing towards him, their wands aloft, headed by Draco Malfoy. Harry stood rooted to the spot, paralysed with fear and horror, as Narcissa ran up to him, shrieking, ‘Kill him, Draco! Let’s make the Dark Lord proud of us!’
Draco looked terrified, Harry thought: even Goyle, trailing behind him, had a faintly apprehensive air. Only Narcissa, beside herself with bloodlust, seemed to relish the thought of a kill. ‘Go on, Draco!’ she urged, in a hoarse, passionate voice.
Draco glanced at her rather nervously, and started to utter the words of the Killing Curse.
‘So the prophecy was wrong after all!’ Harry closed his eyes tightly and prepared to die, but opened them again when nothing happened. Bewildered, he realised that Draco had lowered his wand and was gazing intently at him, a strangely soft expression on his face. ‘Run, Potter!’ he hissed. ‘Run for your life!’
Harry ran.
Deathly Hallows, UK hardback edition, p. 589.
‘NOT HIS MOUSTACHE, YOU BITCH!’ As Lupin instinctively raised his wand to protect his facial hair, Molly leapt into the fray, and within seconds, Bellatrix was lying motionless on the ground.
Epilogue
Nineteen Hours Later
‘Wake up, Harry,’ said Lupin quietly in his ear, his moustache creating a fairly unpleasant tickling sensation. He sounded excited. ‘Mercifully, it was all a dream.’ He handed Harry a small mirror. ‘And just look what’s happened because you haven’t shaved for so long!’
‘Now, take it easy, Moony,’ said Sirius, who was hovering protectively at Lupin’s side. ‘Don’t shock him.’
Lupin watched fondly as Harry examined the facial hair that was covering virtually his whole face. ‘Though you’re only a beginner, of course! It’s not a patch on mine,’ he said, sounding a little bit jealous.
‘Of course it isn’t!’ said Sirius indignantly. ‘Anybody can grow a moustache in his sleep. It’s the constant nurturing that makes all the difference.’ He idly stroked Lupin’s upper lip, humming softly in a sort of bristling ecstasy...
~Fin~
By minnow_53
A/N: Flogging a dead horse department... This is a totally unnecessary sequel to Five Times Remus’s Moustache Wasn’t Mentioned in Canon. I wrote it back when DH came out, but never got round to posting it. Though it’s well past its sell-by date, I hope it will raise a faint smile or two. :/
Summary: In Book 7, Remus Lupin still doesn’t possess the secondary male sexual characteristic that we know and hate love.
Now crossposted to remusxsirius and the_kennel.
Return Of The Porntache (Deathly Hallows Edition)
***
Deathly Hallows, UK hardback edition, p. 16.
‘She has just married the werewolf, Remus Lupin. You must be so proud.’
Bellatrix preened. ‘Yes, we are. He may be a filthy half-blood, but Merlin, he certainly knows how to grow a ’tache!’ She glanced sideways at Voldemort, as if wishing that he too had a silken swathe of hair on his upper lip.
Rather self-consciously, Voldemort stroked the smooth skin under his nose. ‘Well, okay, he has a moustache. But I have a snake, don’t I, Nagini?’
‘No contest!’ jeered Bellatrix.
‘Lupin wouldn’t want you anyway, you stupid woman!’ Voldemort stood up, whiter than ever with rage, his borrowed wand poised to kill. ‘He’s got your young niece, and everyone knows he used to fornicate with that blood-traitor, Sirius Black.’
‘We like to keep things in the family,’ Bellatrix said. ‘Except facial hair,’ she added hastily, blushing at the thought of a woman with such an unsightly accoutrement. ‘Of course, there are bleaching spells,’ she babbled, then stopped when she noticed the Dark Lord’s expression...
Deathly Hallows, UK hardback edition, p. 175.
‘I - I made a grave mistake in marrying Tonks.’ Lupin would speak no further. He looked more miserable than Harry had ever seen him, and as he stared wildly round the kitchen, he clamped a hand over his mouth and gave a loud groan.
‘Have you got toothache?’ Hermione asked sympathetically, fumbling about in her beaded bag. ‘I know there’s some Cure-All Potion here somewhere...hang on a minute!’
But Lupin shook his head, continuing to groan softly, and refused to move his hand when Hermione offered to examine him. Eventually, she flounced off in a huff, muttering something about ‘ungrateful werewolves’, and Harry and Lupin were left alone.
Lupin kept his hand firmly over his mouth. He looked round, wild-eyed, like an animal at bay, then whispered to Harry, ‘An I a wor woo woo?’
‘What?’ asked Harry, and Lupin repeated, a bit more loudly, ‘An I a wor woo woo?’
Hermione popped her head round the door, and hissed, ‘He’s asking if he can have a word with you!’ And she disappeared again, still muttering to herself.
Lupin lowered his hand dramatically and stared directly into Harry’s eyes. Harry stared back, feeling rather uncomfortable, especially as he had no idea what Lupin was trying to convey.
‘My moustache,’ Lupin said, his voice so sad that Harry half-expected the man to burst into loud sobs.
‘Oh, no! It’s not a Horcrux, is it? Because if it is, we’ll have to wear it round our necks for the next six months!’ gulped Harry, almost in tears himself. ‘And Gollum, I mean Ron, will have a funny turn, and Hermione’ll cry for six weeks, and - ’
Lupin said stiffly, ‘It’s not a Horcrux, Harry. In fact, it no longer exists. Nymphadora made me remove it with a Shaving Spell on our wedding night. Did you not even notice? Are you so absorbed in your own petty problems that you can’t even look at an old friend any more?’
‘Well, I, I...’ Harry stammered.
‘I don’t think I care to wait for your explanation.’ Lupin’s voice was icy. ‘So long, Harry. Have a good life.’
Deathly Hallows, UK hardback edition, p. 487.
‘Here, I’ve got a picture!’ Lupin shouted. A chubby baby with turquoise hair waved and grinned at him from a crib. ‘He looks just like his Dad, Tonks says.’
‘’E ’as certainly got your moustache,’ Fleur remarked, as the Weasleys continued to stand in stony silence, staring at Percy.
‘He does, doesn’t he?’ beamed Lupin. ‘‘Except that mine isn’t turquoise, of course. And look, he has a goatee as well. Cool, eh?’
‘Absolutely,’ said Fleur, in a rather faint voice.
Deathly Hallows, UK hardback edition, p. 560.
Lupin was younger too, and much less shabby. His upper lip was graced by a wonderful walrus moustache, the most enormous Harry had ever seen. In spite of its size, it was well-trimmed and squeaky-clean, with no grey hairs to mar its thick beauty.
‘Does it hurt?’ Harry asked.
‘No,’ Lupin assured him. ‘It can be a bit prickly sometimes when I’m trying to sleep, and I’m not even going to start on what Sirius says when I try to give him a blow-job, but - ’
Harry felt his face going scarlet. ‘I’m not talking about the bloody moustache! Does dying hurt?’
Lupin turned away in a huff, and Sirius glared at Harry reproachfully.
‘For goodness’ sake, you know how sensitive he is!’ He put his arms around Lupin and murmured something in his ear. Harry thought he caught the words ‘the most beautiful ’tache in the world’ and ‘never been more turned on in my life, I mean my death’, but he couldn’t have sworn to it, because at that moment a roar arose from the Forbidden Forest.
Harry spun round in a panic. Swarms of Death Eaters were racing towards him, their wands aloft, headed by Draco Malfoy. Harry stood rooted to the spot, paralysed with fear and horror, as Narcissa ran up to him, shrieking, ‘Kill him, Draco! Let’s make the Dark Lord proud of us!’
Draco looked terrified, Harry thought: even Goyle, trailing behind him, had a faintly apprehensive air. Only Narcissa, beside herself with bloodlust, seemed to relish the thought of a kill. ‘Go on, Draco!’ she urged, in a hoarse, passionate voice.
Draco glanced at her rather nervously, and started to utter the words of the Killing Curse.
‘So the prophecy was wrong after all!’ Harry closed his eyes tightly and prepared to die, but opened them again when nothing happened. Bewildered, he realised that Draco had lowered his wand and was gazing intently at him, a strangely soft expression on his face. ‘Run, Potter!’ he hissed. ‘Run for your life!’
Harry ran.
Deathly Hallows, UK hardback edition, p. 589.
‘NOT HIS MOUSTACHE, YOU BITCH!’ As Lupin instinctively raised his wand to protect his facial hair, Molly leapt into the fray, and within seconds, Bellatrix was lying motionless on the ground.
Epilogue
Nineteen Hours Later
‘Wake up, Harry,’ said Lupin quietly in his ear, his moustache creating a fairly unpleasant tickling sensation. He sounded excited. ‘Mercifully, it was all a dream.’ He handed Harry a small mirror. ‘And just look what’s happened because you haven’t shaved for so long!’
‘Now, take it easy, Moony,’ said Sirius, who was hovering protectively at Lupin’s side. ‘Don’t shock him.’
Lupin watched fondly as Harry examined the facial hair that was covering virtually his whole face. ‘Though you’re only a beginner, of course! It’s not a patch on mine,’ he said, sounding a little bit jealous.
‘Of course it isn’t!’ said Sirius indignantly. ‘Anybody can grow a moustache in his sleep. It’s the constant nurturing that makes all the difference.’ He idly stroked Lupin’s upper lip, humming softly in a sort of bristling ecstasy...
~Fin~