Chapter Four

Remus & Sirius

"Have you been avoiding me?"

"Huh?" Hermione looked up from the scrollwork she was gathering from the students' desks now that the last class of the night had been dismissed.

God. There Remus stood at the front of the classroom, his arms folded across his chest and his head tipped to one side as he watched her with clear concern in his leaf-green eyes. Something about the way he was standing accentuated his towering height and lean stature, and she couldn't seem to tear her gaze away. That same corner of her mind that pictured climbing Sirius during their too-close discussion at that evening's breakfast was now busying itself with matching those bare, water-dappled muscles she'd seen when she'd walked in on Remus after his shower to his current posture.

Sirius' newly discovered condition might well be contagious!

Of course, she hadn't dared breathe the 'i' word Sirius had mentioned, not yet. She didn't want to speak on that possibility until she had proof. If he was what he thought he was, she already had a feeling how he would get the energy necessary to sustain himself—the way he'd pushed his hips forward against her as he'd held her pinned against the wall before he dropped a kiss on the sensitive spot just behind her earlobe before he pulled away gave her quite a distinct impression—but if he wasn't, well, then what he was feeling and his abilities were simply a clue to whatever kind of creature he really was now.

She also had no idea how to tell Remus about Sirius' suspicions, or what he'd said he wanted. Sirius was his best friend, and it was his place to tell Remus these things, not hers. The entirety of the night, she'd thrown herself into her new job—jumping to assist the students, or to get Remus something from the back of the room after he mentioned it in his lesson, but before he actually asked for the item.

During lunch, she disappeared to the library—which took on an ominous feel so late at night, and given it was the first day of classes, the place was entirely empty—because she wasn't sure she could sit between Remus and Sirius again. Not without her imagination running away with her, or feeling as though she just might jump out of her skin.

Sirius, too, she'd been avoiding, because she couldn't look at him without blushing. The feel of him pressed against her, of his lips against her skin, and the images he'd sent rushing through her mind with his own words, came back to her every time their eyes met.

Just now, Remus had asked Sirius to go check on the kitchens. The house elves had more than likely made the proper preparations to accommodate the Night class—especially given how small the nocturnal student body was—but now, Hermione realized it had been to get Sirius out of the room so they could speak privately.

Perhaps she should've expected he might do something like this given Sirius' hint during breakfast. Bloody hell.

Remus' brows pinched together, the concern in his eyes only deepening over the way she gaped at him, her expression somewhere between bewildered and helpless.

Frowning, he shook his head. "I asked if you've been avoiding me."

"Why would you think that?"

He uttered a short, soft chuckle. "Because you've been avoiding me."

Her brows shot up and she tried to distract herself, focusing on her task. Her task, however, seemed to not want to cooperate, as there was only one last scroll to collect. "If you already suspected I was avoiding you, why didn't you simply ask me why I'm avoiding you, instead of asking me if I'm avoiding you?" she said as she picked up the last of the scrolls and brought them to the front of the room.

His mouth pulling to one side, he watched her make a wide arc in her path around him to deposit the students' scrolls on his desk. Sure, no avoidance there!

Pivoting on his heel, he continued to follow her movements with his gaze until she was done. She looked up at him once more, her dark eyes huge. "What?"

"You're really going to play the semantics card with me, Hermione?"

Letting out a sigh, her shoulders drooped. "I don't mean to, I'm sorry, Remus, I just . . . ." With another sigh, she turned, leaning her hips back against the edge of his desk. "I just don't know how to talk to you about what's going on." It was as honest as she could be without actually sharing anything she wasn't certain she should.

Remus nodded, dropping his gaze to the toes of his shoes. He knew it. He bloody knew it. That moment he'd let slip past them last night, how friendly Sirius was being with her practically since the moment he'd returned, the little comment Sirius had made at breakfast, and then Hermione disappearing with the other man like that.

He should've stopped them. He should've directly asked Hermione what Sirius was talking about and not let them leave the table until he had a clear understanding.

It had sounded like she had feelings for him—for her to be concerned what he'd think of 'some other bloke' being in her room that morning, what else could it be?—and rather than pursuing it, he'd let Sirius, Sirius who didn't let things slip by him, go off and have some private, out-of-sight conversation with her after happening into her room in the middle of the day? And he wasn't as oblivious as he played at, he'd seen the way Sirius had been looking at her today.

He wanted to be so angry. But he wasn't even sure where that anger would be aimed. At Sirius for doing what Sirius always did—going after what he wanted when the opportunity presented itself—or at himself for being a little too sure he knew what she wanted without actually asking her and giving his friend that opportunity.

Such a bloody mess and it was only the first night of classes! How they were going to make it through the rest of the term was beyond him.

"I suppose I was afraid what your answer might be if I simply asked 'why'."

Oh, the way she looked at him then seemed in danger of breaking his heart. Drawing a deep breath, he dropped his arms to his sides and shrugged. "If this is about Sirius, then I understand."

She only blinked back at him. "You do?"

"Yes. No matter what else happens, I am your friend, Hermione. You don't have to avoid me just because you and he are—"

"Wait!" Her eyes had snapped shut and she threw up her hands in what almost seemed a sign of surrender. She'd thought for a moment he'd reasoned out what Sirius thought he might be on his own, or perhaps Sirius had already explained things—she was still trying to wrap her head around the 'coming between you and Remus is exactly what I want' comment he'd left off on during their earlier conversation. "What, exactly, do you think is happening with Sirius?"

Remus' mouth curved downward in a thoughtful expression that wasn't quite a frown. How odd. He'd not really thought much about his feelings for her until they were working together yesterday. He'd been so sure she couldn't see him as anything but her friend and former professor, and then, for a moment there, he felt certain there was something more between them. Yet, he suddenly wasn't sure what he was feeling. He wanted her, but he also wanted her to be happy. There was that nagging memory of watching Sirius holding her last night in the school infirmary, laced with jealousy as it was.

But he had to be honest with himself. As he stared at her just now, he realized he had to be honest with himself, at least. He was jealous of Sirius holding her so close because of what could've been, and jealous of watching Hermione sink back against Sirius like that because of what had almost been so many times in the past.

All those past moments of drunkenly snogging Sirius' brains out in the dark quiet night of an empty Gryffindor Tower common room. All those moments he'd stopped from going any further because he'd been afraid. And Sirius, because that was what Sirius did, shrugged it off, making it seem as though the occasional drunken snog was just another part of their friendship.

That moment last night that slipped by him, and that he'd made no effort to reclaim. How hard would it have really been to pull her aside just before answering Minerva's summons? Or on their way to the Ministry? Just a minute was all it would've taken. And he'd pretended not to realize.

He was a wretch. But he was a wretch who would not stand in the way of people he cared for so much.

"You know what?" Remus said, forcing a smile. If she wasn't comfortable discussing this with him, then he wouldn't force it. "You shouldn't have to do all this, you're my assistant, not my servant. Go on. I believe you wanted to get back to the library, anyway."

Hermione felt completely confused and deflated by his sudden change. He thought she and Sirius were . . . ? And there was no way to tell him the truth yet without revealing what she'd already told herself was Sirius' business to share with him. She could already imagine how trying would sound. Oh, no, Sirius and I aren't anything more than friends, she'd insist. To which Remus would ask, then what is going on between you two? And she'd stammer at him as she tried to come up with some plausible explanation, and a misleading blush would fill her cheeks because in truth what he was thinking wasn't too far from what Sirius actually wanted, and that would simply cement Remus' idea that she and Sirius were . . . up to things.

Oh, God, she wanted to curl up and die right here.

Taking a deep breath and letting it out slow, she marshaled her courage as best she could. She never imagined being trapped between Remus Lupin and Sirius Black like this. . . . And she completely ignored her own thinking just then, because the last thing she needed at this moment was to imagine herself between Remus and Sirius!

For heaven's sake, this was all starting to hurt her brain.

"Look, Remus, all I can say is if you want to know what is happening with Sirius, you need to ask him."

With that, she turned and walked to the door. Remus watched her go, knowing a terribly confused interaction had just taken place.

"What is going on with you?"

Sirius spun on his heel, his brows drawing upward as he saw Remus closing the door to their shared room behind him. "I'm afraid you'll have to be a bit more specific."

"I just had a very . . . odd and strained conversation with Hermione." Remus frowned, shaking his head. "I thought . . . I thought perhaps you two were, but she's given me the impression otherwise, and if you're not, then I'm not certain I understand how you two have been behaving today."

His blue-grey gaze darting about the room, Sirius said, "Then I suppose that makes us even, because I'm not even sure what you just said."

Realizing his meaning had gotten a bit tangled up, Remus raked his fingers through his hair and started over. "I thought there was something . . . romantic going on with the two of you, but she told me I need to ask you what's happening."

"Of course." Sirius nodded, walking across the floor to stand before the werewolf. "She wouldn't want to tell you before she was certain if I was right."

"Tell me what, Pads?"

A strange sort of haziness came into Sirius' eyes, then. His lips curving in a half-smile, he said, "I always did like it when you called me that."

Remus thought for certain that now he understood the source of that haze. "Have you been drinking?"

"Stone-cold sober, I'm afraid." Sirius couldn't help himself from drawing a little closer, still—just as he couldn't help himself from teasing Hermione during that breakfast conversation. "No, what she's not telling you is that I think I know what I am. The closer I get to her when there are certain thoughts running through her head, the closer I get to you when I remember those dark, late nights, the more certain I am that it's true."

Remus could feel his skin flush as he stared down into his friend's eyes. He could feel the way his pulse picked up, thrumming a bit harder in his veins. How had this come about so very quickly? "What's true?" he asked, his voice tumbling out in a hushed breath.

"I told her . . . ." Sirius sucked his teeth, his head tipping to one side as he let his gaze drop to dance across Remus' lips. "I believe whatever brought me back, I'm not human anymore. The word I used to describe how I feel when I'm too close to either of you since coming back? Incubus."

"Incubus," Remus repeated the word, still in a whisper. Yes, that would certainly explain the vibe the other man was giving off just now—the vibe that, Lord help him, was making him hard with just the look in Sirius' eyes.

Sirius nodded, his gaze still on the werewolf's mouth, as though fascinated by the soft, plump flesh. "I think so. It seems like it's all I can think about right now. You. Her. I told her what I think I am. I couldn't help myself, I mean, it's her. And I realized, I even said it to her, that it's you and her. Oh, the possibilities. I mean, me? A creature that lives on the energy of sexual desire? Doesn't that just seem like something that would become of Sirius Black?"

Remus was acutely aware of how close Sirius stood. Of the sudden need to feel Sirius' lips on his skin. "Her? Me? You . . . you want . . . ?"

His breathing getting heavier by the moment, Sirius nodded. "Oh, yes. I want both of you. But for the moment, I think I'll sate myself on just one of you."

Remus gave into the sensation of Sirius' mouth crashing over his. He parted his lips, feeling strangely greedy as he welcomed his friend's kiss, but that didn't last long. At least not on his mouth.

There was an oddly heady and dreamlike quality to everything suddenly as Sirius' mouth trailed down over his jaw and throat. As Sirius' fingers scrambled to pull open his robes, allowing him to trail his lips and tongue lower along Remus' chest and the flat plane of his abdomen.

Remus all but fell backward against the door, reveling in the feeling of odd, yet completely blissful helplessness as Sirius moved lower, still. He bit back a moan as he reached out, threading his fingers through that long jet hair. God, he hated himself that he hadn't let this happen all those years ago.

A trembling breath shook out of him as Sirius' fingers wrapped around his cock, the grip firm yet delicate. Remus let his head fall back against the door as he jerked his hips, his body seeming to respond of its own volition to the feel of Sirius' hand stroking him.

He could tell Sirius was smiling, Remus could feel it in the way Sirius' lips moved against his skin as he sank lower, finally bracing his knees on the floor.

It had been so long . . . . And this, something he'd wanted for even longer that he couldn't help the noisy gasp he gulped down as Sirius' lips closed over him. He bared his teeth, his grip on Sirius' hair tightening as the other man drew on him in long, deep strokes.

She hated them both right now. Hated them so blindingly much. Not only had they simply both not shown up for dinner, but she was the one volunteered to come fetch them. Perhaps they were still unaccustomed to the strange hours, it was assumed.

Honestly, though, with the way Sirius had been talking that morning, she wasn't certain what to think of the possible reasons behind their mutual absence.

Reaching the door of Remus & Sirius' shared room—the one directly across the corridor from her own—she didn't even get the chance to lift her hand to knock. A loud gasp exploded on the other side of the door.

Her knee-jerk reaction was to throw open the door and see if anyone was hurt, but something in her gut told her to hold back. That . . . oh, dear, that had not been a sound of pain just now.

All right, she was going to turn on her heel and head back to the dining hall, and simply tell everyone they were . . . catching up on sleep. Yes, that was exactly what she was going to do. Exactly. So why wasn't she doing it?

She felt awful about herself, but she simply didn't feel as though she could help it as she leaned an ear toward the door. After all, what if she'd been mistaken with her second guess and someone was injured in there?

More sounds came from beyond the door, sounds that brought heat rushing to her face and set off a sweet, delicious curl of that very same warmth low in her body. Hungry noises, panting breaths edged with the faintest growl.

And then Dammit, Sirius! . . . only it very much didn't sound like Remus was angry with the other man. Oh, no. Those words sounded like they'd been hissed out from between clenched teeth as the werewolf . . . as he . . . .

Well, she certainly didn't need to still be standing out here as this went on! This was a private moment, and she'd just leave them to it!

This time, Hermione did manage to force herself to walk away. How was she supposed to face either of them after this?

Remus collapsed back against the door after he spent himself. Sirius seemed reluctant to let go, just yet. He'd slowed, eased his pace, but still worked his mouth over Remus until he was certain there was nothing left—until Remus shuddered and let out a short, pained inhalation.

It must've been his imagination, but he could've sworn he'd picked up Hermione's scent for a moment there while he'd been coming. Imagination or not, he was certain it added to just how hard that orgasm had rocked through him just now—Sirius' words about wanting both of them, about the possibilities were surely to blame for that.

At last Sirius tilted his head back, allowing Remus' cock to slide free from between his lips. Oh, he felt so much better now. Awake, sated, completely calm and serene in a way he normally wasn't accustomed to.

Grinning, he lifted his gaze to Remus' face. The werewolf looked sated, too. He was also red-faced and still trying to catch his breath.

But Sirius? Oh, he was full of energy! Bouncing to his feet, he said, "Okay, I just realized, everyone's at dinner. We should probably get over there."

Remus narrowed his eyes in a lethal glare, even as Sirius helpfully closed his robes for him. "Give a man a moment, would you?"

Sirius snickered. He was a bit hard, himself—how could he not be after listening to all those wonderful noises Remus had made? After finally knowing what it felt like to slide his mouth along Remus' length, tasting his skin? Tasting him as he came?—but he could bear it for a little while. He'd gotten sustenance, sure, but Remus needed food.

Plus, Hermione was probably waiting for them. Waiting for them and adorably fit to be tied over how late they were.

She seemed to jump in place as they took their seats on either side of her at the faculty table. Hermione'd been so focused on the food on her plate—not that she'd touched any of it, she was too consumed with trying to not think of all the images those sounds she'd heard from Sirius and Remus' room conjured in her mind—she'd not even seen them enter the hall.

Sirius filled a plate for himself, he could still eat and wanted to keep up appearances and all that, as did Remus. She couldn't stop herself from glancing from one to the other, and back, before returning her gaze to her own dish.

"Oh, there you two are," Professor Tumin, one of the newer teachers hired on to help with the Night class said from beside Sirius, his tone jovial—the man reminded Hermione of a vampire Santa Claus, actually. "After Miss Granger came back from looking for you and said you were resting, we thought you'd sleep straight through dinner. Night time hours can be rough on those not accustomed. Just give it a few more days, I'm sure you lot will acclimate."

Tumin went right on yammering happily, but Hermione felt her heart drop into her stomach. Swallowing hard, she merely kept her attention on her untouched food as she felt Sirius and Remus both turn to look at her.