My Halloween Post: Samhain
Title: Samhain
Setting: Deathly Hallows Era
Pairing: Remus/Sirius
Rating: NC17
Words:
Summary:
Warning: Refers vaguely to an earlier fic, Runes
Inspiration: Halloween
Disclaimer: All the characters are the sole property of JK Rowling, yadda yadda yadda, you know how it works...
Note: All my fan fic is in the same universe, so while it may not be continuous, all stories are inter-related. Read more:
Stories from their childhood: A Gift of Friendship 1 and A Gift of Friendship 2
Stories from their First Year: A Secret for a Secret and Private Secrets, Public Pain
Stories from their Fourth Year: Sleepless and Sleepless Part Two and High Truth on the Edge of the Roof and Nerves
Stories from Fifth Year: Animal Instincts and Numbers and The Conversation
Stories from their Sixth Year: Runes (Part One) and Runes (Part Two) and Total Eclipse
and No Direction Home (Part One) and No Direction Home 2
Stories from Seventh Year: What They Think They Know and America (Puppy Shippers)
Stories from adulthood (end of Goblet of Fire era): Grimmauld Place and Transcendent Moment or Grimmauld Place in Inversion
(end of Goblet of Fire era): Here and What the Order Knows
Naked and alone, Remus stood before a roaring bonfire wondering just what the hell he was doing. Lupin had recently professed not to believe in magic - which might sound contradictory considering that he was a wizard, but it was, in a sense, very true. Obviously, he believed in the physicality of magic, he knew that spells could be performed and even created, but that was just science. Magic was a craft and an art, but it was also pragmatic and mundane, a part of everyday life. What Remus tried not to believe was that there were any supernatural aspects to being a wizard, that that there was any spirituality involved. Believing in that was simply too painful. Still, there were some callings that extended beyond the practical magic of daily life - there were some things that ran deeper. And this was one of them.
Sirius had believed in magic. Few people knew and even fewer understood, but Sirius Black had privately been a very spiritual person. The tattoos and the symbolic language evidenced that pursuit, but Remus discovered that those aspects (like Sirius’ unhappiness at Grimmauld Place and the events leading to his death) were easily forgotten by those who remained behind. People would remember Sirius as brave, witty, reckless, and handsome, but ignore his inner complexities.
Even Harry, his beloved godson, who had trusted and believed in Sirius when few others were willing to do so, shied away from speaking of Sirius’ emotional issues and esoteric interests. But not Remus. Remus loved and embraced (physically and metaphorically) the whole of Sirius. He knew a man few others did, a man who was wholly loving and sometimes frighteningly passionate, a man who had promised that they would never be separated again. And that promise was the reason that Remus Lupin was standing in the middle of a grove of trees on a freezing, moonless Halloween night, about to undertake a ritual in which he had convinced himself not to believe.
Halloween. Samhain. The day the veil was the thinnest and one could communicate with the dead.
“Veil.” thought Remus darkly “How ironic.”
For it was a veil that took Sirius away that long ago night in the Ministry. Truthfully, Remus did not feel overly prepared for what was to come. He was alone and, from his understanding, this spell (if it even worked at all) required multiple people. But could who could have asked, really? Dora? Hardly, she was home, pregnant and suspicious. He’d told her that this was Order business, but saw the clear distrust in her eyes. And what would he have said? “Hey, honey, want to nip out to the woods and bring my ex-boyfriend back from the dead?” Hardly. And there was no one else. Mad-Eye? Dead. Molly Weasley? She would never understand and, besides, Remus suspected that she’d not trusted Sirius while he was alive. Harry? No, certainly not after their last encounter at Grimmauld Place. Perhaps this was best done alone, anyway. Remus shivered and wrapped himself in his cloak.
It had taken him about an hour to put together the bonfire and another half-hour to get it to a proper blaze. With a silver knife he’d carefully drawn a large circle around the fire and then set about preparing the rest of the spell. Cauldron. Fruit. Bread. Water. Chalice. Potion. Hope. All was in readiness. But could he really go through with this? Remus hesitated, fearful both of both accomplishing not accomplishing this spell.
The thought of seeing Sirius again, even as ghost, was overwhelmingly beautiful, but it was more than a little terrifying. And what would it say of his marriage? Poor, sweet, desperate, Dora, who tried so valiantly to be what Remus wanted. Tried, but failed. Failed. And what if he failed tonight? Could he really face that heartbreak? His heart longed for reunion, resurrection. What was that line that Sirius had tattooed on his back? Something about Love and the Lover resurrecting beyond time? And only this mattered? If he allowed himself remember, Remus could recite that whole line, but like most things about Sirius, he’d buried it deeply.
Screwing his proverbial courage, Remus approached the bonfire. As always, he was meticulous, having poured over the directions countless times. The potion was, predictably, the most difficult part. Potions were never his strong suit and now there was not even Severus Snape to help him, but he'd done his best with the various ingrediants he hoped wouldn't (and half-hoped would) poison him. Remus walked the circle, made the offerings, and uttered the sacred words: Be as the boundary between all worlds. Let the gate be open! And then he drank.
The potion, with which he had struggled for days, tasted as bitter as death itself, the shock of it sending him reeling to the grass. Fighting the vomit that rose in his throat, Remus focused his full concentration on the fire.
“Let the Gate Be Open. Let the Gate Be Open,” He chanted softly to himself as he continued to walk in dizzying circles around the fire.
The world began to tilt and spin, tendrils of colored flame rose from the bonfire, curling into the night sky before disappearing between the stars. From the depth of the night (or perhaps the depths of his mind) a song arose, a plaintive, shrieking tune of passion and loss. It crossed his mind that he might simply be hallucinating, but Remus stubbornly clung to his chant until he could bear it no longer and he sank to the ground in a helpless heap. The night was cold and there was no sound but the whisper of the wind and the soft crackling of the fire. Nothing. No one. Remus closed his eyes, fighting tears and exhaustion. “I failed,” he sobbed softly to himself.
Reluctantly, he opened his eyes and took one last look at the fire. There, between the restless squirming of the flames, a figure seemed to arise, moving slowly toward him on unsure legs. Remus blinked in a muddle of confusion, fear, and hope. As the figure drew nearer it became increasingly clear. Sirius. But Sirius as Remus had never seen him: at once youth and adult, passionate and peaceful, radiant, real, and gloriously handsome. In the golden firelight, Remus could see that his lover was naked, with the full, healthy muscles of the days before Azkaban. Sirius did not speak, but simply beckoned with outstretched arms and Remus sprang from his seat and walked toward him.
“Moony.”
It was more of a blessing that a statement and it filled Remus with an astounding rush of wonder.
“You called for me and I came”
A thousand questions rose to his lips, but they were stilled with a single, passionate kiss. Remus could not bring himself to speak, but no words were necessary, for Sirius’ lips were on his face and neck, his tongue exploring Remus mouth. The night dissolved into a clash of teeth and flesh and touch - Sirius tasted so real, his bites felt so exquisitely beautiful on Remus’ bare throat. He ran his hands through Sirius’ hair, amazed at the soft, reality of it all. He planted light, feathery kisses on Sirius’ eyelids, savoring the warm breath against his chin. Pressing himself tightly against his dead lover, he held the unsurprising hardness of Sirius’ excitement tight against his hip bone.
“I’ve missed you so much,” he whispered.
“Oh, Moony, I love you so. But, please understand, there are many questions I cannot answer. Even the dead have rules to follow… but for tonight we can touch.”
There was more Remus wanted, needed, to say. He wanted to apologize, to rationalize, to beg forgiveness. “Tonks… he began.
“Oh, Moony, I know, my love. The dead know all, you should know that!” He was smiling, but something soft and sad hid behind his depthless grey eyes.
HIs heart froze. "Then… are you angry?”
Sirius grinned, all warm radiance and perfect white teeth. “No. Not at all. You did what you had to do. But know this. What you have now is not forever. The present is not eternal.”
Remus wondered what exactly this might mean, but was soon lost in another endless kiss. Sirius’ hands explored his body, as if craving the long-lost sensation of human flesh. His fingers gently cupped Remus’ arse as that marvelous dog-like tongue circled an earlobe. Without warning, Remus was pulled roughly to the ground, his cloak cast aside, and Sirius was atop him grinding rhythmically. Their cocks rubbed together, the friction reminding Remus of those long-ago nights at Hogwarts, all ecstatic fumbling and passionate sweat. Rolling over, he took Sirius’ beloved cock into his mouth, the taste of warm, living flesh, bringing tears to his eyes. Sirius moaned and reached out to touch Remus, fisting him gently until Remus could take it no longer and pulled away for another kiss.
“Make love to me, Moony, please… like you used to. And, remember, there is not much time.”
There was no need to answer, merely to roll Sirius over onto his belly. His arse was still perfect, a delicious rise of tender flesh. Remus ran his tongue over it, probing gently and spreading the cheeks to circle the tender outside of the hole. Beneath him, Sirius trembled and moaned. He raised his hips, spreading his legs and whispered, “Please...”
Remus longed to comply, but the sight of that the heartbreaking tattoo on Sirius’ upper back was overpowering. His eyes were inexplicably drawn to that ever-twining wolf and dog. Love. Separation. Resurrection. Return. It was all too much to bear.
Instead, Remus gently rolled his lover onto his back, so he could see his beautiful face as they made love. The old patterns were surprisingly easy to fall into. Lightly parting his lover's thighs, Remus eased himself into Sirius, enjoying the tight gasp of surprise and happiness. Filled with the startling joy of, once again, being inside his lover, Remus began to pump frantically, hands twisting madly in Sirius’ dark curls. He reached down to slowly stroke the other man’s cock, enjoying increased thrusts of pleasure as he brought Sirius closer to the edge. Oh, but this was so perfect - too perfect, perhaps. His head swam and, for a moment, Remus was lost in a pure moment of being. This was love.
Sirius cried out as he came, shaking Remus out of his trance and renewing the urgency of his thrusting. Remus came shortly thereafter, into Sirius, sealing the warm closeness of their intermingled love. Pulling out gently, he rolled over taking Sirius into his arms. He saw his lover’s face was wet with tears and he silently kissed them away, feeling the matching wetness on his own face. It hadn’t occurred to him that this could be painful, too.
“Sirius, please, don’t ever leave me again…” he whispered, burying his face in those dark, fragrant curls. He felt himself grow sleepy, as Sirius’ strong arms settled around him, pulling him close.
“Soon, Moony, oh, so very soon. And please don’t be frightened. James and Lily send their love. That is all I can tell you… ” But his words trailed off into a series of nuzzled kisses.
The fire was smoking now and Remus grew sleepy. He settled himself against Sirius’ warm chest and wrapped his cloak around both of them. The tangy smell of Sirius’ sweat tickled his nostrils, mingling with the dusky scent of the fire and reminding Remus of happier times, before wars and separations and imprisonment and death. He wanted this moment to last forever, for the world to stop turning and the veil to never send Sirius back home. As he fell asleep he realized that, for the first time in over a year, he was utterly happy.
_ _ _
Remus awoke alone in a cold grey dawn. The bonfire had reduced to ashes and the random artifacts of the night’s ritual were scattered about the grass. His heart sank. Had he dreamed the whole thing? He wrapped his cloak more tightly around his body, noting the mild stickiness and slight, feral smell. His heart dearly wanted to believe, but his mind could not be convinced.
“This creally could have been a simple masturbatory fantasy, ” he reasoned sadly. But upon closer inspection, he noted a few long, dark hairs, clinging tenaciously to the fabric. He smiled, confident for the first time of many things.
Later, Tonks would note the strange bite marks on her husband’s neck, but could not bring herself to inquire. Instead, she simply gazed at him silently, her sad, dark eyes filled with understanding. And Remus could not bring himself to speak of it.
In his own way, he loved her. Not with the bright, burning, eternal passion with which he loved Sirius, but quietly and with resignation. She had been kind to him in his darkest hours, extending an unknown warmth and affection for which he would be eternally grateful. And she was giving him a child.
Still, Sirius’ words burned in his heart: “Soon, Moony, oh, so very soon.” Finally, Remus Lupin had hope.
Comments are appreciated!! For the time being most future fics will be adapted from my NaNoWriMo