Fic: The Unconventional Way, Part One
Title: The Unconventional Way (part one)
Rating: R, poss hints of NC-17
Pairings: Major R/S, dur, J/L, and very slight S/J and J/R (oh dear, there I go again), and a few unimportant random OC’s.
Summary: James always knew there was something different about the four of them, and Sirius was always a little strange, but he never realised just how different until third year, when they discovered that Remus was a werewolf and things started to spiral from there…
Warning: Very young boy-touching (14/15yrs old)
Additional warning: This is long, and only half of what I’ve written so far…
Insane drivelling author notes:
Feel free to complain about anything, including; strange style of writing, overly long sentences, overly short sentences, over-use of commas, words that have clearly just been made up on the spot, canon errors, major plot discrepancies, that the whole thing is just too damn long. Or anything, really. I have no beta, and some really weird ideas about punctuation.
Or you could say nice things.
Disclaimer: Just borrowing off JKR. Don't sue me; I make no money, from this, or anything else. If you sued me, all you'd get would be this computer. Which admittedly would stop me writing this...
Also, friend me! I have no-one.(sobs) Enough of that, on with the fic!
The Unconventional Way
(part one)
Prologue
James Potter smiled round at the assembled crowd. He knew he should be feeling nostalgic or something, mourning his childhood, his schooldays, but he was too busy worrying about other things. Like the speech he had to make at their graduation ceremony tomorrow, like whether any of the seventh year were currently too inebriated, like how he was going to get to spend some time alone with Lily after the ball finished.
He sighed. ‘Lil, I’m just going to check on my lot.’
She turned away from her conversation. ‘Hold on, I’ll join you; I’m suspicious that Sirius just may be drunk as a skunk.’
‘And how drunk exactly are skunks?’ he asked tetchily as they wandered across the hall. He thought the comment was a bit rich coming from a girl who’d burst into tears half a hour before the ball started, wailed on about how she never wanted to leave Hogwarts, and had to be placated with several whiskies.
‘Hey, Prongs,’ said Remus easily.
‘Is he drunk?’ Lily snapped, jabbing a thumb towards Sirius.
‘No more than the rest of us,’ Remus told her. Sirius grinned wickedly.
Lily huffed.
‘Trust us, Lil, you’ve seen him a lot more pissed than that without noticing.’ James slid an arm around her. ‘Remus, d’you know where the expression ‘drunk as a skunk’ comes from?’
‘I dunno, it just rhymes, doesn’t it?’
‘I suppose. Where’s Wormtail?’
‘Dancing with Marion.’ Sirius spoke the girl’s name in a sing-song tone.
‘Don’t either of you two dance?’ Lily asked.
‘Dancing’s for girls,’ Sirius explained, a little patronisingly.
‘I see, that’s why fifty percent of the people out there are male, yes?’
‘Freaks, the lot of them.’
The boys all laughed and Lily glared.
‘You need to relax, my darling.’ James stroked his fingers up and down her arm in what he hoped was a soothing and placating manner. ‘How about we forget our responsibilities for five minutes and get up there ourselves?’
‘But we have so much to-‘
‘Well, if anyone needs us they’ll know where to find us.’
She sighed, but defeatedly, and let herself be led onto the dance-floor.
‘Girls, the lot of them,’ Sirius muttered to Remus as they leaned against a table watching the dancing.
‘I know, it’s despicable; fancy wanting to dance with someone you love at the school’s Leavers’ Ball,’ Remus replied casually.
Sirius turned quickly to look at him in surprise. ‘Moony, don’t tell me you want to dance?’
He raised an eyebrow. ‘I might.’
‘But we couldn’t do that…’ Sirius’ voice had taken on that dangerous tone, a wickedly gleeful one, one that usually spelt trouble, often trouble involving twenty dungbombs, a pot of red paint and the Slytherin dormitories at 4am. But it wasn’t what he meant this time.
‘I don’t see why not.’
‘Oh, don’t you?’
‘No, I don’t.’ He held out a hand to his boyfriend, palm up, and turned to look at him, one eyebrow raised again.
‘We’re actually going to do this?’
‘Don’t tell me you’re… scared. Where’s your sense of adventure?’
Sirius smiled and took the offered hand. ‘This doesn’t mean I’m a girl, though, just because I’m dancing.’
‘But it means you’re the girl, because I asked you.’
‘Oh, we are not having this argument again. I am not the girl! You’re the one that cries off with a headache all the time!’
‘I do not! And you’re the one who stays awake to watch me sleep!’
‘I- I’m just… checking you’re breathing properly!’
‘Bollocks. Come on.’ Remus led Sirius out onto the dance-floor.
‘Damn it!’ Sirius jiggled nervously.
‘You can stand a bit closer.’ Remus slid his hands to Sirius’ waist.
‘How do you do this again?’
‘You put your arms around my neck.’
‘Right,’ Sirius said, starting to comply. ‘Hey!’ He suddenly realised, pulling his arms back. ‘I am not the girl!’
‘Not so loud!’
Sirius wound his hands between Remus’ arms and settled them on the small of his back. ‘What now?’
‘Now; we dance!’
‘And… how?’
‘I hate you, I don’t know why I bother.’ He pulled at Sirius, trying to get him to sway a little, and trying to resist the urge to press their hips too tightly together.
‘Yes you do,’ Sirius whispered huskily, causing Remus to roll his eyes. But he admitted privately that he did know, really.
Sirius found that, for once, he didn’t want to be the centre of attention; he didn’t want this to be a weird thing to do, because it wasn’t weird to them. He didn’t lift his eyes from Remus’ face.
‘Wow, you’re worried about this,’ Remus noted, trying not to be offended.
‘No,’ Sirius mumbled.
‘It’s fine. I'm pretty sure they all think we’re taking the piss anyway.’
‘I’m not worried, or ashamed, or anything. This just shouldn’t be a big thing.’
‘I know it shouldn’t.’
‘It should just be normal.’
‘And when have you ever been normal?’ Remus asked, producing another evil smile from his boyfriend.
James was actually thoroughly enjoying dancing with Lily. Normally he hated dancing and just found it confusing, but it made sense dancing with Lily. Until she groaned and said, ‘what the hell is going on now?’
‘Calm down, just enjoy dancing with your stunning boyfriend, and knowing the rest of the room is fuming with barely-concealed jealousy.’
‘Hate to break it to you, Potter, but I don’t think anyone at all is staring at you. They’re all staring over there.’
She pulled at his shoulders and tried to dance him in the direction of a rather crowded area of the dance floor, where there seemed to be a lot of whispering going on.
‘Oh, for god’s sake. It would be your lot, wouldn’t it?’ she exclaimed, as the crowd finally parted enough for a brief glimpse.
‘Honestly, he isn’t that drunk!’ James protested, as if it were a reflex.
‘Drunk enough to be dancing with Lupin!’
‘What?’ James leaned to the side. ‘Oh.’ He grinned, managing to catch Sirius’ eye.
‘Stop it!’ Lily slapped his arm.
‘Ow!’
‘This isn’t funny! This is our Leavers’ Ball, our last evening at Hogwarts, everyone is saying goodbye and those two are making a mockery of it!’
‘Er, Lily.’
‘What?’
‘Just… just shut up, yeah?’
‘Why should I? Why do the four of you have to try and spoil everything?’
James was just about to bite back with a rather nasty reply, but he stopped, not really knowing what there was he could say. And besides, Lily had had a long night and she’d been close to tears on several different occasions already. Then he had a naughty idea. ‘You know, you’re right.’
‘I… am?’
‘Yes. I think they need taught a lesson.’
‘Er…’
He pulled away and grabbed her hand. It felt rather exhilarating, he hadn’t really expected anything like this to happen tonight, but he’d just thought of the perfect plan…
######
Looking back, James decided it was all the wolf’s fault. All of it. Because they just wanted to know, and that was how it had started, wasn’t it, because of their interference.
But not really. Even then, if he’d been paying attention, if he’d known these things were possible, then he would have known, would have noticed.
Wouldn’t he?
######
In the beginning
It was the wolf’s fault because they’d decided they had to know what was going on.
Start of third year, and they’d forgotten how annoying it was; Remus’ excuses. They would not be putting up with it for another year. He had a lot of disease-ridden relatives it would seem, and he was clearly following the same path, so ill he often looked himself.
There was nothing relevant in any of the library’s medical texts, nothing that the Lupin family could all suffer from, nothing that caused such regular relapses.
Sirius said, ‘screw the relatives; what the fuck is wrong with Remus?’
And James thought he had a point.
Sirius had noticed that sometimes Remus was all hot and bothered, het-up, fidgety-nervous, sometimes his skin burned you to touch.
‘Really?’ asked James.
‘Yeah, like when his eyeballs look like they’re gunna burst into flame, like. They do that.’
‘What, burst into flame?’
‘No, but they look like it, half expect them to explode.’
‘Never noticed,’ James admitted, ‘anything else?’
‘When he gets back he’s all, like, weak and floppy, ill and watery, you know.’
‘Yeah. I’ve noticed that.’
‘Red round the eyes like he’s been crying, or wants to.’
‘Does he cry?’
‘I’ve never caught him.’
Sirius had waited up to check, watching Remus’ bed through the darkness, ear carefully angled towards.
‘So we should look those up.’
‘Yeah. And the scars.’
‘Scars?’ James had been intrigued, even if at the age of thirteen he didn’t know the right word for it.
‘You must have seen; he tries to hide them.’
‘Then how would I?’
‘I’ve seen. Lots. On his chest and back. And his legs must be even worse; he never shows, wears trousers under his robes, or long socks. And always pyjamas, even when it’s boiling.’
‘So what do they look like?’
A casual shrug. ‘Mostly little and faded, but I think some are really big. They’re wicked,’ Sirius added, face lighting to match his words. Sirius had always thought there was something indescribably fascinating about Remus.
‘Wow. We should look all this up. Definitely Restricted Section time.’
‘Yeah.’
‘But we’ll do more research first.’
‘Eh? Like… work?’
‘We’ll watch him, take notes and stuff.’
‘I’ll do that.’
‘And we should get a better look at those scars.’
‘I’ll do that too; I have a plan.’
James watched his best friend slide his wand out of his sleeve and head for the door.
Just as his fingers touched the handle, ‘Sirius!’
‘Huh?’
‘No.’
‘What?’
‘Don’t. I was thinking more subtle, without him knowing, like invisibility cloak.’
‘Oh yeah. Me too.’
‘Liar. You were going to stun him and take his clothes off.’
‘Wasn’t. Anyway how does the cloak help?’
‘He has to be naked in the shower, doesn’t he?’
‘Ah.’ Sirius wished he’d thought of that.
#
So, from the moment Remus returned from his aunt’s death-bed --or whatever-- the next day, Sirius stalked him. With a notebook.
Soon he had a long list of symptoms of the Lupin family hereditary disease. Tiredness. Tetchiness. Shaky hands. Red-rimmed eyes. Pasty-facedness. Throwing up your dinner. A big purple-and-yellow bruise on your right forearm that you didn’t like people poking. A thick red scab-scar on the shell of your right ear that made it look like it’d been torn in half and sewn back up, that also shouldn’t be touched. And just all-round, generally, not-wanting-to-be-touched. Or bothered, in any other way.
James hummed and hawed over the list, stroked his chin and commended Sirius for his dedication, and added that he thought Remus was worse in lessons for the few days after he’d visited his family, though it might be from worry or tired.
Eventually it was time for the scar survey.
Sirius woke early and curled into a corner of their bathroom, under the cloak and clutching his notebook.
Remus would be first up.
He was: stumbling in, rubbing messily at his eyes and tugging his hair. The symptoms Sirius had noticed in the days after his return were all gone now.
Sirius watched him take a piss, but couldn’t find anything abnormal to write down about that.
Then he turned on the shower and started to undress in front of the mirror.
Sirius waited tensely, fast-beating heart.
Remus bared his teeth angrily at his reflection, before relaxing and sighing, unbuttoning his pyjama-top; too slowly, sleepy fingers fumbling, until finally he shrugged it off one shoulder. Then the other.
From where he sat, Sirius couldn’t see Remus’ reflection too well, but he had a perfect view of his back.
Scratches and scrapes and slashes, some red, some white, some silver. Remus’ skin was a puzzle that begged to be solved.
Sirius thought it was, without a doubt, the most amazing thing he’d ever seen.
Remus seemed quite caught up in his body too, running his fingers over his chest, but frowning.
Sirius couldn’t understand that; if it had been his body he’d have been proud.
He watched Remus take off his pyjama bottoms --slid down carelessly and kicked away-- then march to the shower.
Sirius noted (but was too engrossed to write down) that there were actually far fewer scars on his legs, mainly just a vast one on his outer left thigh, so repulsively beautiful that Sirius’ whole body itched to touch it. It wound around the skin, thick tissue, of stretched appearance, as if tugged in many directions; substantial puffy-white flesh which trailed round at the front, the thread of it disappearing between his thighs just a few inches below where the tip of his cock rested.
Annoyingly; the bathroom filled with steam as Remus turned the heat up, and Sirius was too far from the bathtub to see clearly anymore, and all too soon Remus was dried off again and pulling on his clothes.
Damn it all.
Luckily; James kept good his promise to use the bathroom before Peter could.
#
The foray into the Restricted Section gave them the answer they’d craved.
Something had attacked him.
Something with teeth and claws.
Something that made him ill.
A werewolf.
‘He regularly gets attacked by werewolves?’ Sirius asked. ‘That makes no sense.’
‘Oh bugger,’ said James, ‘he is a bloody werewolf.’
‘Oh. Oh fuck.’
#
When Remus returned from his next ‘visit to his aunt’ he found his three friends were waiting.
James looked cross, Sirius looked impatient, and Peter looked like he was about to throw up.
Remus collapsed to his bed, limp and floppy. ‘What?’
‘You’re a bloody werewolf!’ yelped James.
‘Oh. That.’ Too tired to care.
‘Yes.’
‘Why didn’t you say?’
‘You don’t mind sleeping in a dormitory with a werewolf?’
‘Not really,’ James shrugged.
‘Blergh.’
‘What’s it like? Can I see your scars?’
#####
Pestering
‘Can I see your scars?’
‘No. You can’t.’
‘Please; I think they’re really ace.’
‘No! And how would you know anyway?’
‘I saw. I peeked when you tried to hide them. I think they’re ace.’
‘You wouldn’t if they were yours.’
‘I would, I’d show them off to everyone.’
‘Would not.’
‘Would.’
‘You’d show off all the scars you got, scratching yourself to pieces because there weren’t any humans for you to eat?’
‘Yes. How deep do you have to cut to get one like that long one on your back?’
Remus was alarmed, at the idea of Sirius purposely inflicting them on himself, as well as at the thought of Sirius looking at him. ‘If you looked like me you’d hate them.’
Sirius thought that if he looked like that he’d spend all his time in front of the mirror and never get anything done. ‘I’m gunna get tattoos when I’m older, it’s almost the same.’
‘You’re mental. Total nutter.’
‘So, can I see them?’
‘No!’
#
‘I’d let you, if it were me.’
‘Well it isn’t you, so you don’t know.’
‘I do, and I would.’
‘Sod off!’
#
‘Please. No-one’s here, I won’t tell them. Just a peek. I’ll give you anything you want.’
‘Anything?’
‘Anything. Really. I’ll do your homework, buy you sweets. Anything.’
‘Don’t get detention.’
‘What?’
‘Don’t get detention, not once, for a week, starting now.’
‘But--‘
‘But what?’
#
‘So you pull that string, and the whole place goes up. Go on.’
‘No.’
‘Eh?’
‘Don’t wanna pull it.’
‘You made me set the whole thing up, I paid for all the stupid fire-crackers, and now you won’t even pull the string to set the whole trick off?’
‘You may as well have all the glory.’
‘I don’t want to do detention on my own!’
‘Yes, well maybe I’ve grown out of all your stupid childish pranks, James.’
‘You- I- what did you say?’
In surprise he pulled the string and they were both forced to run for it.
#
‘I can’t believe--‘
‘You promised; you have to. You wouldn’t believe how difficult it was.’
‘I would, for you.’
‘So go on.’
Sirius waited, breath bated, as Remus removed his robes. He would not have been able to tell why, if it had been asked of him, because he didn’t know, but for the past few months this had been the most important thing in the world for him. And now it was finally happening.
Remus wore a t-shirt and trousers under his robes, usually, and today was no different. His chest was thick with nerves; he’d never shown this to anyone, not purposely, not like this. He would have to wait for Sirius to pass judgement on his scars, on his condition, and on him. But he couldn’t welch on a bet.
Sirius trembled with excitement.
Remus yanked the t-shirt over his head.
Sirius shuffled to sit behind him. The same scars he’d seen that time in the bathroom, but they were even more amazing close-to. Smooth, elegant slivers of split skin, carved into Remus. His eyes feasted themselves on Remus’ back. A brief scratch of a claw here, a long tear of the teeth there. Sirius’ hands were desperately clutching the duvet; the only way he could hold them off.
‘Oh fuck, Remus. Can I touch one?’
‘No!’
‘Please! Please…’
‘No! I’m-- my skin is-- it’s too sensitive now; the full moon’s too close.’
He pulled his t-shirt back over and Sirius moaned aloud in disappointment.
‘But-‘
‘No.’
#
‘Can I-‘
‘No!’
‘Just once more…’ Sirius knew he was lying, as did Remus, but it sounded better if he said it, meant or not.
‘No.’
‘What would I have to do?’
Remus really didn’t want to, but Sirius hadn’t stopped begging since last time.
‘Snape.’
‘What?’
‘A whole week, without saying one mean word. No tricks, no pranks, no nothing. Just nice. Cordial. Even kind. For a whole week.’
‘I can’t.’
‘Then you can’t.’
#
‘Think you’re so brilliant, Potter? Think you can really take me? Man to man?’
‘You’re on, Snivellus, right now. Load of crappy dark spells your family teach can’t beat someone with actual talent. You only dodge curses 'cos they slide off your greasy head.’
‘Well you should be prepared for curses hitting yours, what with it being so big. Lucky for you it’s so thick too.’
‘It needs to be; needs to protect my immense brain, which I find quite a useful organ. Unlike yours. I’m pretty sure your intestines feed directly into your skull to fill the emptiness.’
‘Yeah, Snape, read any good books lately?’
James and Snape just looked at him. ‘You…what?’
#
‘I don’t believe it.’
‘You admitted it yourself.’
‘But-‘
‘You have to; you promised.’
‘I know.’ Remus pulled off his robes and Sirius’ hands were shaking again.
‘Oh…’
Remus didn’t understand this.
‘Can I touch one, this time?’
‘No.’
‘I was nice, to Snivellus, for a whole week.’
‘Yes, but-‘
‘The full moon was ten days ago.’
‘Yes, but-‘
‘I’ll be gentle. Promise. You owe me.’
And, Remus thought, he did owe him. He still had three friends. He still had three friends who knew what he was. It was more than a miracle. ‘Okay.’
Sirius slid behind him, edgy with anticipation.
Remus pulled off his t-shirt.
‘Oh.’
Sirius didn’t know where to start, fingers twitching, then curling back to his body, heart trying to pump out of his chest.
He decided to start small.
‘Don’t touch the ones that are still red.’
‘Okay.’
He stroked a little one, curled under the right shoulder-blade, teeth probably, he thought, reminded of the way dogs itched at themselves with their teeth. Let his finger trail its length, breathing heavily, licking his lips.
‘Oh…’
Remus tightened his body, horrified at the intimacy he was allowing his friend. No-one did this. No-one. Remus Lupin barely let his mother hug him.
Sirius just continued, slowly, savouring every second. The scars were painfully soft, the skin almost spongy. He traced every last one, along some of them, round the outline of others. Breath drifting over the shoulder-ones, his forehead almost touching as he followed the lower-back-ones that led into Remus’ trousers.
All marks made by Remus, his whole life written neatly on his body, every memory.
He saved the longest 'til last. Tracking it’s path over the length of back, his own body straining curiously towards some need he didn’t understand. He only barely stopped himself from tracing it with his tongue too.
‘Remus…’
‘That’s enough,’ Remus gasped in relief, empty and worn out from the exploration, the invasion of his privacy.
‘No! No, I haven’t finished, I’m only half-way through,’ Sirius cried urgently.
‘Another time.’
‘But I must-‘
‘Please, it’s all I can take.’
‘Another time? You mean it? What do I have to do?’
‘After the next full moon. I’ll think of something.’
#
‘Be nice to Peter for a week. Proper nice. No patronising, no sarcasm.’
‘Oh… Wait, not even sarcasm?’
#
‘…So I think we should break into the Slytherin common room and write ‘Slytherins are all a big bunch of smelly girls’ on the wall,’ Peter finished triumphantly.
‘Wow, Peter, I don’t think anything could surpass the brilliance of that plan,’ James said, his voice flat with sarcasm. ‘And imagine their torment when they realise we’ve called them all ‘smelly girls’.’
‘Actually I think it’s a good idea-‘
‘What the fuck is wrong with you, Black?’ yelled James. ‘You’re turning into a freak!’
Sirius pouted and shrugged. He had very good reasons for this after all. And he was damned if he was going to share this with James.
#
This time, Sirius was determined that he wouldn’t lose out. No delaying the pleasure this time; he was longing to see Remus’ other scars, the ones on his chest. Soon he’d beg to see the leg one, but that could be delayed, something to look forward to. He’d do something extra-special for Remus for that one. And when he got it he’d take his time…
‘Come on.’
Sirius dragged him into the dormitory after lunch and sat him on his bed, straddling his lap. Pulled the jumper over his head and cast it vehemently aside, letting fingers slip to Remus’ buttons.
Remus didn’t understand the urgency, but he liked the control. Sirius was wild and free, but Remus could tell him what to do. Remus didn’t like the touching or the staring, but he liked that he had something that Sirius Black wanted, something that no-one else could give him.
He noticed in bewilderment how Sirius’ fingers trembled as he worked the buttons.
‘Oh.’ Sirius sighed softly, as he finally pushed the shirt from Remus’ shoulders, sliding with his hands. ‘Oh, yes.’
His eyes were immediately drawn to one in particular. Short but deep, it cut through the left nipple and looked badly sewn together, distorting his nipple and extending from its edges. Immediately it was his favourite chest-scar and he would save touching it til last.
He followed the others, many small, and the biggest; long, thick and white, almost completely vertical, from the bottom of his rib-cage and into his trousers. Sirius longed to trace it further.
Sirius hadn’t a clue what he wanted any of this for really, only knew that he wanted it, and that playing with Remus in this way was the best thing ever.
Remus didn’t know where to look; Sirius invading his lap, glowing with excitement, wonder spread over his face. It was even worse than last time. He kept his head to the side, eyes firmly on the wall, but determined not to flinch.
After an eternity to Remus, and barely a minute to Sirius, Sirius scrambled from his lap and slithered to the floor, knelt between his legs. He rubbed his fingers over Remus’ left nipple, which Remus found was still sensitive, even with the moon so far from full. He flinched at that.
‘Sorry,’ muttered Sirius, entranced.
The need to lick was even stronger this time, this scar definitely wanted a tongue over it, as it was, level with his face. He licked his lips, over and over, not knowing whether he was preparing himself or sating himself, working himself up or trying to quell the urge.
‘Sirius…’
‘What?’ he moaned.
‘This is getting weird.’
‘No it isn’t.’
He licked his lips again. Nothing that Sirius Black did was ever weird.
‘How did you do this one?’ he asked, fingers circling round and round.
‘A couple of years ago. I don’t remember how, I never remember. I just wake up with them.’
‘It was sewn up.’
‘Yes.’
‘Magically?’
‘Probably. They don’t always heal right.’
Remus found the fact that it was a nipple made it more embarrassing.
‘You should go; you said you’d fly with James this afternoon.’
‘Later.’
‘But someone’ll come.’
‘So?’
Remus didn’t understand this, but he was starting to feel ashamed of it.
#####
Link to Part Two.
Rating: R, poss hints of NC-17
Pairings: Major R/S, dur, J/L, and very slight S/J and J/R (oh dear, there I go again), and a few unimportant random OC’s.
Summary: James always knew there was something different about the four of them, and Sirius was always a little strange, but he never realised just how different until third year, when they discovered that Remus was a werewolf and things started to spiral from there…
Warning: Very young boy-touching (14/15yrs old)
Additional warning: This is long, and only half of what I’ve written so far…
Insane drivelling author notes:
Feel free to complain about anything, including; strange style of writing, overly long sentences, overly short sentences, over-use of commas, words that have clearly just been made up on the spot, canon errors, major plot discrepancies, that the whole thing is just too damn long. Or anything, really. I have no beta, and some really weird ideas about punctuation.
Or you could say nice things.
Disclaimer: Just borrowing off JKR. Don't sue me; I make no money, from this, or anything else. If you sued me, all you'd get would be this computer. Which admittedly would stop me writing this...
Also, friend me! I have no-one.(sobs) Enough of that, on with the fic!
The Unconventional Way
(part one)
Prologue
James Potter smiled round at the assembled crowd. He knew he should be feeling nostalgic or something, mourning his childhood, his schooldays, but he was too busy worrying about other things. Like the speech he had to make at their graduation ceremony tomorrow, like whether any of the seventh year were currently too inebriated, like how he was going to get to spend some time alone with Lily after the ball finished.
He sighed. ‘Lil, I’m just going to check on my lot.’
She turned away from her conversation. ‘Hold on, I’ll join you; I’m suspicious that Sirius just may be drunk as a skunk.’
‘And how drunk exactly are skunks?’ he asked tetchily as they wandered across the hall. He thought the comment was a bit rich coming from a girl who’d burst into tears half a hour before the ball started, wailed on about how she never wanted to leave Hogwarts, and had to be placated with several whiskies.
‘Hey, Prongs,’ said Remus easily.
‘Is he drunk?’ Lily snapped, jabbing a thumb towards Sirius.
‘No more than the rest of us,’ Remus told her. Sirius grinned wickedly.
Lily huffed.
‘Trust us, Lil, you’ve seen him a lot more pissed than that without noticing.’ James slid an arm around her. ‘Remus, d’you know where the expression ‘drunk as a skunk’ comes from?’
‘I dunno, it just rhymes, doesn’t it?’
‘I suppose. Where’s Wormtail?’
‘Dancing with Marion.’ Sirius spoke the girl’s name in a sing-song tone.
‘Don’t either of you two dance?’ Lily asked.
‘Dancing’s for girls,’ Sirius explained, a little patronisingly.
‘I see, that’s why fifty percent of the people out there are male, yes?’
‘Freaks, the lot of them.’
The boys all laughed and Lily glared.
‘You need to relax, my darling.’ James stroked his fingers up and down her arm in what he hoped was a soothing and placating manner. ‘How about we forget our responsibilities for five minutes and get up there ourselves?’
‘But we have so much to-‘
‘Well, if anyone needs us they’ll know where to find us.’
She sighed, but defeatedly, and let herself be led onto the dance-floor.
‘Girls, the lot of them,’ Sirius muttered to Remus as they leaned against a table watching the dancing.
‘I know, it’s despicable; fancy wanting to dance with someone you love at the school’s Leavers’ Ball,’ Remus replied casually.
Sirius turned quickly to look at him in surprise. ‘Moony, don’t tell me you want to dance?’
He raised an eyebrow. ‘I might.’
‘But we couldn’t do that…’ Sirius’ voice had taken on that dangerous tone, a wickedly gleeful one, one that usually spelt trouble, often trouble involving twenty dungbombs, a pot of red paint and the Slytherin dormitories at 4am. But it wasn’t what he meant this time.
‘I don’t see why not.’
‘Oh, don’t you?’
‘No, I don’t.’ He held out a hand to his boyfriend, palm up, and turned to look at him, one eyebrow raised again.
‘We’re actually going to do this?’
‘Don’t tell me you’re… scared. Where’s your sense of adventure?’
Sirius smiled and took the offered hand. ‘This doesn’t mean I’m a girl, though, just because I’m dancing.’
‘But it means you’re the girl, because I asked you.’
‘Oh, we are not having this argument again. I am not the girl! You’re the one that cries off with a headache all the time!’
‘I do not! And you’re the one who stays awake to watch me sleep!’
‘I- I’m just… checking you’re breathing properly!’
‘Bollocks. Come on.’ Remus led Sirius out onto the dance-floor.
‘Damn it!’ Sirius jiggled nervously.
‘You can stand a bit closer.’ Remus slid his hands to Sirius’ waist.
‘How do you do this again?’
‘You put your arms around my neck.’
‘Right,’ Sirius said, starting to comply. ‘Hey!’ He suddenly realised, pulling his arms back. ‘I am not the girl!’
‘Not so loud!’
Sirius wound his hands between Remus’ arms and settled them on the small of his back. ‘What now?’
‘Now; we dance!’
‘And… how?’
‘I hate you, I don’t know why I bother.’ He pulled at Sirius, trying to get him to sway a little, and trying to resist the urge to press their hips too tightly together.
‘Yes you do,’ Sirius whispered huskily, causing Remus to roll his eyes. But he admitted privately that he did know, really.
Sirius found that, for once, he didn’t want to be the centre of attention; he didn’t want this to be a weird thing to do, because it wasn’t weird to them. He didn’t lift his eyes from Remus’ face.
‘Wow, you’re worried about this,’ Remus noted, trying not to be offended.
‘No,’ Sirius mumbled.
‘It’s fine. I'm pretty sure they all think we’re taking the piss anyway.’
‘I’m not worried, or ashamed, or anything. This just shouldn’t be a big thing.’
‘I know it shouldn’t.’
‘It should just be normal.’
‘And when have you ever been normal?’ Remus asked, producing another evil smile from his boyfriend.
James was actually thoroughly enjoying dancing with Lily. Normally he hated dancing and just found it confusing, but it made sense dancing with Lily. Until she groaned and said, ‘what the hell is going on now?’
‘Calm down, just enjoy dancing with your stunning boyfriend, and knowing the rest of the room is fuming with barely-concealed jealousy.’
‘Hate to break it to you, Potter, but I don’t think anyone at all is staring at you. They’re all staring over there.’
She pulled at his shoulders and tried to dance him in the direction of a rather crowded area of the dance floor, where there seemed to be a lot of whispering going on.
‘Oh, for god’s sake. It would be your lot, wouldn’t it?’ she exclaimed, as the crowd finally parted enough for a brief glimpse.
‘Honestly, he isn’t that drunk!’ James protested, as if it were a reflex.
‘Drunk enough to be dancing with Lupin!’
‘What?’ James leaned to the side. ‘Oh.’ He grinned, managing to catch Sirius’ eye.
‘Stop it!’ Lily slapped his arm.
‘Ow!’
‘This isn’t funny! This is our Leavers’ Ball, our last evening at Hogwarts, everyone is saying goodbye and those two are making a mockery of it!’
‘Er, Lily.’
‘What?’
‘Just… just shut up, yeah?’
‘Why should I? Why do the four of you have to try and spoil everything?’
James was just about to bite back with a rather nasty reply, but he stopped, not really knowing what there was he could say. And besides, Lily had had a long night and she’d been close to tears on several different occasions already. Then he had a naughty idea. ‘You know, you’re right.’
‘I… am?’
‘Yes. I think they need taught a lesson.’
‘Er…’
He pulled away and grabbed her hand. It felt rather exhilarating, he hadn’t really expected anything like this to happen tonight, but he’d just thought of the perfect plan…
######
Looking back, James decided it was all the wolf’s fault. All of it. Because they just wanted to know, and that was how it had started, wasn’t it, because of their interference.
But not really. Even then, if he’d been paying attention, if he’d known these things were possible, then he would have known, would have noticed.
Wouldn’t he?
######
In the beginning
It was the wolf’s fault because they’d decided they had to know what was going on.
Start of third year, and they’d forgotten how annoying it was; Remus’ excuses. They would not be putting up with it for another year. He had a lot of disease-ridden relatives it would seem, and he was clearly following the same path, so ill he often looked himself.
There was nothing relevant in any of the library’s medical texts, nothing that the Lupin family could all suffer from, nothing that caused such regular relapses.
Sirius said, ‘screw the relatives; what the fuck is wrong with Remus?’
And James thought he had a point.
Sirius had noticed that sometimes Remus was all hot and bothered, het-up, fidgety-nervous, sometimes his skin burned you to touch.
‘Really?’ asked James.
‘Yeah, like when his eyeballs look like they’re gunna burst into flame, like. They do that.’
‘What, burst into flame?’
‘No, but they look like it, half expect them to explode.’
‘Never noticed,’ James admitted, ‘anything else?’
‘When he gets back he’s all, like, weak and floppy, ill and watery, you know.’
‘Yeah. I’ve noticed that.’
‘Red round the eyes like he’s been crying, or wants to.’
‘Does he cry?’
‘I’ve never caught him.’
Sirius had waited up to check, watching Remus’ bed through the darkness, ear carefully angled towards.
‘So we should look those up.’
‘Yeah. And the scars.’
‘Scars?’ James had been intrigued, even if at the age of thirteen he didn’t know the right word for it.
‘You must have seen; he tries to hide them.’
‘Then how would I?’
‘I’ve seen. Lots. On his chest and back. And his legs must be even worse; he never shows, wears trousers under his robes, or long socks. And always pyjamas, even when it’s boiling.’
‘So what do they look like?’
A casual shrug. ‘Mostly little and faded, but I think some are really big. They’re wicked,’ Sirius added, face lighting to match his words. Sirius had always thought there was something indescribably fascinating about Remus.
‘Wow. We should look all this up. Definitely Restricted Section time.’
‘Yeah.’
‘But we’ll do more research first.’
‘Eh? Like… work?’
‘We’ll watch him, take notes and stuff.’
‘I’ll do that.’
‘And we should get a better look at those scars.’
‘I’ll do that too; I have a plan.’
James watched his best friend slide his wand out of his sleeve and head for the door.
Just as his fingers touched the handle, ‘Sirius!’
‘Huh?’
‘No.’
‘What?’
‘Don’t. I was thinking more subtle, without him knowing, like invisibility cloak.’
‘Oh yeah. Me too.’
‘Liar. You were going to stun him and take his clothes off.’
‘Wasn’t. Anyway how does the cloak help?’
‘He has to be naked in the shower, doesn’t he?’
‘Ah.’ Sirius wished he’d thought of that.
#
So, from the moment Remus returned from his aunt’s death-bed --or whatever-- the next day, Sirius stalked him. With a notebook.
Soon he had a long list of symptoms of the Lupin family hereditary disease. Tiredness. Tetchiness. Shaky hands. Red-rimmed eyes. Pasty-facedness. Throwing up your dinner. A big purple-and-yellow bruise on your right forearm that you didn’t like people poking. A thick red scab-scar on the shell of your right ear that made it look like it’d been torn in half and sewn back up, that also shouldn’t be touched. And just all-round, generally, not-wanting-to-be-touched. Or bothered, in any other way.
James hummed and hawed over the list, stroked his chin and commended Sirius for his dedication, and added that he thought Remus was worse in lessons for the few days after he’d visited his family, though it might be from worry or tired.
Eventually it was time for the scar survey.
Sirius woke early and curled into a corner of their bathroom, under the cloak and clutching his notebook.
Remus would be first up.
He was: stumbling in, rubbing messily at his eyes and tugging his hair. The symptoms Sirius had noticed in the days after his return were all gone now.
Sirius watched him take a piss, but couldn’t find anything abnormal to write down about that.
Then he turned on the shower and started to undress in front of the mirror.
Sirius waited tensely, fast-beating heart.
Remus bared his teeth angrily at his reflection, before relaxing and sighing, unbuttoning his pyjama-top; too slowly, sleepy fingers fumbling, until finally he shrugged it off one shoulder. Then the other.
From where he sat, Sirius couldn’t see Remus’ reflection too well, but he had a perfect view of his back.
Scratches and scrapes and slashes, some red, some white, some silver. Remus’ skin was a puzzle that begged to be solved.
Sirius thought it was, without a doubt, the most amazing thing he’d ever seen.
Remus seemed quite caught up in his body too, running his fingers over his chest, but frowning.
Sirius couldn’t understand that; if it had been his body he’d have been proud.
He watched Remus take off his pyjama bottoms --slid down carelessly and kicked away-- then march to the shower.
Sirius noted (but was too engrossed to write down) that there were actually far fewer scars on his legs, mainly just a vast one on his outer left thigh, so repulsively beautiful that Sirius’ whole body itched to touch it. It wound around the skin, thick tissue, of stretched appearance, as if tugged in many directions; substantial puffy-white flesh which trailed round at the front, the thread of it disappearing between his thighs just a few inches below where the tip of his cock rested.
Annoyingly; the bathroom filled with steam as Remus turned the heat up, and Sirius was too far from the bathtub to see clearly anymore, and all too soon Remus was dried off again and pulling on his clothes.
Damn it all.
Luckily; James kept good his promise to use the bathroom before Peter could.
#
The foray into the Restricted Section gave them the answer they’d craved.
Something had attacked him.
Something with teeth and claws.
Something that made him ill.
A werewolf.
‘He regularly gets attacked by werewolves?’ Sirius asked. ‘That makes no sense.’
‘Oh bugger,’ said James, ‘he is a bloody werewolf.’
‘Oh. Oh fuck.’
#
When Remus returned from his next ‘visit to his aunt’ he found his three friends were waiting.
James looked cross, Sirius looked impatient, and Peter looked like he was about to throw up.
Remus collapsed to his bed, limp and floppy. ‘What?’
‘You’re a bloody werewolf!’ yelped James.
‘Oh. That.’ Too tired to care.
‘Yes.’
‘Why didn’t you say?’
‘You don’t mind sleeping in a dormitory with a werewolf?’
‘Not really,’ James shrugged.
‘Blergh.’
‘What’s it like? Can I see your scars?’
#####
Pestering
‘Can I see your scars?’
‘No. You can’t.’
‘Please; I think they’re really ace.’
‘No! And how would you know anyway?’
‘I saw. I peeked when you tried to hide them. I think they’re ace.’
‘You wouldn’t if they were yours.’
‘I would, I’d show them off to everyone.’
‘Would not.’
‘Would.’
‘You’d show off all the scars you got, scratching yourself to pieces because there weren’t any humans for you to eat?’
‘Yes. How deep do you have to cut to get one like that long one on your back?’
Remus was alarmed, at the idea of Sirius purposely inflicting them on himself, as well as at the thought of Sirius looking at him. ‘If you looked like me you’d hate them.’
Sirius thought that if he looked like that he’d spend all his time in front of the mirror and never get anything done. ‘I’m gunna get tattoos when I’m older, it’s almost the same.’
‘You’re mental. Total nutter.’
‘So, can I see them?’
‘No!’
#
‘I’d let you, if it were me.’
‘Well it isn’t you, so you don’t know.’
‘I do, and I would.’
‘Sod off!’
#
‘Please. No-one’s here, I won’t tell them. Just a peek. I’ll give you anything you want.’
‘Anything?’
‘Anything. Really. I’ll do your homework, buy you sweets. Anything.’
‘Don’t get detention.’
‘What?’
‘Don’t get detention, not once, for a week, starting now.’
‘But--‘
‘But what?’
#
‘So you pull that string, and the whole place goes up. Go on.’
‘No.’
‘Eh?’
‘Don’t wanna pull it.’
‘You made me set the whole thing up, I paid for all the stupid fire-crackers, and now you won’t even pull the string to set the whole trick off?’
‘You may as well have all the glory.’
‘I don’t want to do detention on my own!’
‘Yes, well maybe I’ve grown out of all your stupid childish pranks, James.’
‘You- I- what did you say?’
In surprise he pulled the string and they were both forced to run for it.
#
‘I can’t believe--‘
‘You promised; you have to. You wouldn’t believe how difficult it was.’
‘I would, for you.’
‘So go on.’
Sirius waited, breath bated, as Remus removed his robes. He would not have been able to tell why, if it had been asked of him, because he didn’t know, but for the past few months this had been the most important thing in the world for him. And now it was finally happening.
Remus wore a t-shirt and trousers under his robes, usually, and today was no different. His chest was thick with nerves; he’d never shown this to anyone, not purposely, not like this. He would have to wait for Sirius to pass judgement on his scars, on his condition, and on him. But he couldn’t welch on a bet.
Sirius trembled with excitement.
Remus yanked the t-shirt over his head.
Sirius shuffled to sit behind him. The same scars he’d seen that time in the bathroom, but they were even more amazing close-to. Smooth, elegant slivers of split skin, carved into Remus. His eyes feasted themselves on Remus’ back. A brief scratch of a claw here, a long tear of the teeth there. Sirius’ hands were desperately clutching the duvet; the only way he could hold them off.
‘Oh fuck, Remus. Can I touch one?’
‘No!’
‘Please! Please…’
‘No! I’m-- my skin is-- it’s too sensitive now; the full moon’s too close.’
He pulled his t-shirt back over and Sirius moaned aloud in disappointment.
‘But-‘
‘No.’
#
‘Can I-‘
‘No!’
‘Just once more…’ Sirius knew he was lying, as did Remus, but it sounded better if he said it, meant or not.
‘No.’
‘What would I have to do?’
Remus really didn’t want to, but Sirius hadn’t stopped begging since last time.
‘Snape.’
‘What?’
‘A whole week, without saying one mean word. No tricks, no pranks, no nothing. Just nice. Cordial. Even kind. For a whole week.’
‘I can’t.’
‘Then you can’t.’
#
‘Think you’re so brilliant, Potter? Think you can really take me? Man to man?’
‘You’re on, Snivellus, right now. Load of crappy dark spells your family teach can’t beat someone with actual talent. You only dodge curses 'cos they slide off your greasy head.’
‘Well you should be prepared for curses hitting yours, what with it being so big. Lucky for you it’s so thick too.’
‘It needs to be; needs to protect my immense brain, which I find quite a useful organ. Unlike yours. I’m pretty sure your intestines feed directly into your skull to fill the emptiness.’
‘Yeah, Snape, read any good books lately?’
James and Snape just looked at him. ‘You…what?’
#
‘I don’t believe it.’
‘You admitted it yourself.’
‘But-‘
‘You have to; you promised.’
‘I know.’ Remus pulled off his robes and Sirius’ hands were shaking again.
‘Oh…’
Remus didn’t understand this.
‘Can I touch one, this time?’
‘No.’
‘I was nice, to Snivellus, for a whole week.’
‘Yes, but-‘
‘The full moon was ten days ago.’
‘Yes, but-‘
‘I’ll be gentle. Promise. You owe me.’
And, Remus thought, he did owe him. He still had three friends. He still had three friends who knew what he was. It was more than a miracle. ‘Okay.’
Sirius slid behind him, edgy with anticipation.
Remus pulled off his t-shirt.
‘Oh.’
Sirius didn’t know where to start, fingers twitching, then curling back to his body, heart trying to pump out of his chest.
He decided to start small.
‘Don’t touch the ones that are still red.’
‘Okay.’
He stroked a little one, curled under the right shoulder-blade, teeth probably, he thought, reminded of the way dogs itched at themselves with their teeth. Let his finger trail its length, breathing heavily, licking his lips.
‘Oh…’
Remus tightened his body, horrified at the intimacy he was allowing his friend. No-one did this. No-one. Remus Lupin barely let his mother hug him.
Sirius just continued, slowly, savouring every second. The scars were painfully soft, the skin almost spongy. He traced every last one, along some of them, round the outline of others. Breath drifting over the shoulder-ones, his forehead almost touching as he followed the lower-back-ones that led into Remus’ trousers.
All marks made by Remus, his whole life written neatly on his body, every memory.
He saved the longest 'til last. Tracking it’s path over the length of back, his own body straining curiously towards some need he didn’t understand. He only barely stopped himself from tracing it with his tongue too.
‘Remus…’
‘That’s enough,’ Remus gasped in relief, empty and worn out from the exploration, the invasion of his privacy.
‘No! No, I haven’t finished, I’m only half-way through,’ Sirius cried urgently.
‘Another time.’
‘But I must-‘
‘Please, it’s all I can take.’
‘Another time? You mean it? What do I have to do?’
‘After the next full moon. I’ll think of something.’
#
‘Be nice to Peter for a week. Proper nice. No patronising, no sarcasm.’
‘Oh… Wait, not even sarcasm?’
#
‘…So I think we should break into the Slytherin common room and write ‘Slytherins are all a big bunch of smelly girls’ on the wall,’ Peter finished triumphantly.
‘Wow, Peter, I don’t think anything could surpass the brilliance of that plan,’ James said, his voice flat with sarcasm. ‘And imagine their torment when they realise we’ve called them all ‘smelly girls’.’
‘Actually I think it’s a good idea-‘
‘What the fuck is wrong with you, Black?’ yelled James. ‘You’re turning into a freak!’
Sirius pouted and shrugged. He had very good reasons for this after all. And he was damned if he was going to share this with James.
#
This time, Sirius was determined that he wouldn’t lose out. No delaying the pleasure this time; he was longing to see Remus’ other scars, the ones on his chest. Soon he’d beg to see the leg one, but that could be delayed, something to look forward to. He’d do something extra-special for Remus for that one. And when he got it he’d take his time…
‘Come on.’
Sirius dragged him into the dormitory after lunch and sat him on his bed, straddling his lap. Pulled the jumper over his head and cast it vehemently aside, letting fingers slip to Remus’ buttons.
Remus didn’t understand the urgency, but he liked the control. Sirius was wild and free, but Remus could tell him what to do. Remus didn’t like the touching or the staring, but he liked that he had something that Sirius Black wanted, something that no-one else could give him.
He noticed in bewilderment how Sirius’ fingers trembled as he worked the buttons.
‘Oh.’ Sirius sighed softly, as he finally pushed the shirt from Remus’ shoulders, sliding with his hands. ‘Oh, yes.’
His eyes were immediately drawn to one in particular. Short but deep, it cut through the left nipple and looked badly sewn together, distorting his nipple and extending from its edges. Immediately it was his favourite chest-scar and he would save touching it til last.
He followed the others, many small, and the biggest; long, thick and white, almost completely vertical, from the bottom of his rib-cage and into his trousers. Sirius longed to trace it further.
Sirius hadn’t a clue what he wanted any of this for really, only knew that he wanted it, and that playing with Remus in this way was the best thing ever.
Remus didn’t know where to look; Sirius invading his lap, glowing with excitement, wonder spread over his face. It was even worse than last time. He kept his head to the side, eyes firmly on the wall, but determined not to flinch.
After an eternity to Remus, and barely a minute to Sirius, Sirius scrambled from his lap and slithered to the floor, knelt between his legs. He rubbed his fingers over Remus’ left nipple, which Remus found was still sensitive, even with the moon so far from full. He flinched at that.
‘Sorry,’ muttered Sirius, entranced.
The need to lick was even stronger this time, this scar definitely wanted a tongue over it, as it was, level with his face. He licked his lips, over and over, not knowing whether he was preparing himself or sating himself, working himself up or trying to quell the urge.
‘Sirius…’
‘What?’ he moaned.
‘This is getting weird.’
‘No it isn’t.’
He licked his lips again. Nothing that Sirius Black did was ever weird.
‘How did you do this one?’ he asked, fingers circling round and round.
‘A couple of years ago. I don’t remember how, I never remember. I just wake up with them.’
‘It was sewn up.’
‘Yes.’
‘Magically?’
‘Probably. They don’t always heal right.’
Remus found the fact that it was a nipple made it more embarrassing.
‘You should go; you said you’d fly with James this afternoon.’
‘Later.’
‘But someone’ll come.’
‘So?’
Remus didn’t understand this, but he was starting to feel ashamed of it.
#####
Link to Part Two.