Chapter 3
Tears welled up in his eyes as he was thrown back against the wall. His head hit with such force that it might as well have cracked open. Simultaneously, he heard Sirius yell and launch a flood of curses. Remus could feel blood trickle down his temple towards his neck. He felt dizzy and a few moments later, excruciating pain gripped his head. He was conscious for a while but could discern nothing. When Sirius finally bent over him, he had already passed out.
Remus lay listening to the low humming for quite a while before he opened his eyes. For some time, he could not decide whether he had actually heard anything and if his eyes were open after all, as the surroundings were drenched in pitch-black silence.
As he vaguely turned over the issue in his mind, he heard the scrapping of a chair against the floor nearby.
"I'll stay."
It was his mother's voice. He must be home then.
Relief washed over him as he sensed the familiar bony fingers close over his hand. He felt far more warm and comfortable than he had been all this winter.
Remus pressed his mother's hands.
"Are you awake?" she whispered. Her voice was shaky. Had she been crying?
"Yea… I… I can't see?" he asked, fearing the worst.
"You'll be alright by the afternoon, dear. The Healer was confident."
Remus closed his eyes. It was decidedly strange. He could move his eyelids but it made no difference to the darkness that seemed to envelope him. That must have been one heck of a curse. Although he had not seen who had shot it at him, he suspected it was Snape. He could not be sure but he thought he had heard his voice. Then again, he recalled, Sirius had said that Lucius Malfoy had been with him. It was quite possible that he might have been the one to attack. He had hardly turned when he had been flung into oblivion.
"How did I get home?"
"Don't worry, Remus… Rest until you feel better."
"Was it Sirius?"
"Yes… now go to sleep. Don't bother about anything."
Some Ministry officials had swooped down over the place an instant after Malfoy had Disapparated with Snape. Sirius was left with an unconscious and injured Remus, and the threat of dangerous penalty.
Luckily, they had heard him through and one of them had taken charge of Remus. Sirius, however, had been brought down to the Ministry for questioning. The attitude of the officials, though, had greatly softened as soon as he mentioned his last name. He couldn't wait to get out of here and visit Remus.
"Sirius Tarquinius Black."
He was startled out of his musings by the cold, low voice.
Malfoy – Lucius Malfoy. He hadn't noticed when the man had entered the chamber.
"Foolish as you are, I suppose you can still realize the gravity of what you have done."
"You little…"
"Curb your tongue!" snapped the older man, pointing his wand a mere inch away from his face. "One would think that when your soon-to-be-benefactor talks to you, you would respond with more humility."
"Don't talk shit!" Sirius scowled at him.
"I'll oblige you, Mr. Black. Even so, I'll oblige you." Malfoy's thin tips curled in a bitter smile. Sirius continued to glare at him but did not reply. "You can go free – with your wand, no charges."
"And? What's the dirty catch?"
Malfoy blinked. "I'll have you know when the time comes."
"I'd rather not be a wizard than exist as one like… you," spat out Sirius angrily.
"And seeing you filled with such upsetting sentiments, Mr. Black, I can only say that you are being too presumptuous." He lowered his hand and tapped his wand on the table. Sirius glanced down to see that his own had appeared on the table.
"Do not worry, Mr. Black. You shall certainly have an opportunity of returning this debt. Remember how I grant you freedom."
Sirius looked at his eyes – a pale blue, even though he stood in shadows. He felt a deep sense of foreboding as he picked up his wand and walked out of the room. Remus – he was far more worried about Remus!
Lucius Malfoy stood long after he had left, staring vacantly at the half-open door. Severus' words still reverberated through his mind.
"Fucking fags… just because they are shagging each other, they act as if they are joined at the hip. Served that stupid Lupin well! Who told him to stand in my way?"
"Sirius?"
"Who is it, James?"
"It's just Sirius, Mum!" James ran an impatient hand through his hair. Then he turned to face Sirius. "Why are you looking sick?"
His friend flung himself down on a chair near the fire and poked the brick lining of the hearth with an outstretched leg. "Bastards!"
James had been polishing his broomstick before the interruption. He brought all equipment to where Sirius sat and resumed his work. "Fought with your family again, have you?"
"Snape. And Malfoy," bit out Sirius angrily.
"Why didn't you send me a call before fighting? I'm always up for showing Snivellus his place!" said James petulantly.
"I didn't go looking for them. They attacked Remus – when he was right there… next to me. And I couldn't save him…"
"What?"
"He's badly hurt – but he'll be okay." Sirius had pulled out his wand and was regarding it menacingly. "I'm going to make Snape's life worse than hell, I swear! If that bloody Malfoy hadn't Disapparated with him, I'd have killed him there and then. He's going to regret every second of his life in Hogwarts."
James held up the broomstick close to his eyes to examine his work. The mere mention of Remus had dampened his interest in the plan for revenge. He felt guilty but could not rid himself of the reservations he had about the werewolf. He recalled the last time he had seen his arch-enemy tagging behind Lily. It was enough to infuse similar malice in his tone.
"He's been getting too smarmy ever since that new Malfoy started favouring him. I'll bet anything that he's completely gone over to the Dark side. We definitely can't let him become more trouble."
Sirius didn't reply.
After they had silent for a while, he suddenly sprung up his exchange with Lucius Malfoy.
"Why'd he do that? So that you won't drag Snivellus' name into it?"
"I…" The lines on Sirius' brow deepened. "I don't think so. He'd have said so right then, if that had been the case."
James reached over to the coffee table and picked up the latest issue of Daily Prophet.
"He's had a position waiting for him all the time. Dad says Malfoy's the worst of Pureblood crooks."
"Second to Blacks," snapped Sirius. "Narcissa is so damned 'taken' with that bastard… it's disgusting! Going over anti-Muggle policies and what-not during Christmas! I hate Slytherins!"
James regarded him thoughtfully.
"Stay here."
Sirius looked up. "Huh?"
"You are going to pitch your tent in the backyard this summer, aren't you? You might as well spend the rest of the holidays here. Even though the place is a bit cramped, I'm sure we could fit you somewhere," said James, grinning.
Sirius rubbed his head and smiled wryly.
"Might as well for a while. I am sure Malfoy is giving my dad hell, anyway. Why can't they just kill each other and make the world a better place?"
Remus sat on the window-sill, his mind considerably lighter now that his vision was restored. It had been snowing all afternoon and although it kept him inside in a cramped room, he was content. To be grateful for something as simple as one's eyesight… it sounded like some childish Wallow Wizard's Lessons of Moral. He could guess what had prompted the old sorcerer to pen such tales, though.
It had been a far more eventful Christmas than he had anticipated. His heart wrenched with strange emotions as his mind drifted off to the previous afternoon. It wasn't quite love. It wasn't quite anxiety. If anything, it might as well have been a dream. An extremely vivid dream, at that, for the mere memory of it made his body shiver although heat rose up his cheeks.
"What have I gotten myself into? What's wrong with me?"
It was as if he was under some dark spell – and couldn't stop these feelings from tearing him apart. More than anything, he wanted to see Léon again. At the same time, dread and suspicion strived to cloak his desires.
There was something so impossible about the whole deal.
Léon had to be a Pureblood with an illustrious lineage. The distinct aura had oozed off his room. When it came to Purebloods, Remus had learnt to be on his guard. James and Sirius were rare exceptions to the rule. While Pureblood supremacy was not embraced by some other families, too, he knew he had to be on guard at all times. Deaths with no explanations, strange attacks on non-Purebloods… outside of Hogwarts, the cloud of fear was growing thick at a very fast rate.
Love at first sight… it couldn't be that, right? He wasn't exactly the most handsome guy for his age. His clothes and general appearance were too humble to break through the suspicions and snobbery of Purebloods.
Why had Léon approached him?
As if sensing the intensity with which he then figured in Remus' thoughts, Léon's tall, lithe form appeared beneath his window.
Remus knew it was Léon even before the man removed his hood and looked up.
It was obvious that he wanted Remus to come down there to him. The werewolf would have had it no other way. If his worst fears were true and Léon was dangerous, then the last thing he wanted was to let him near his family. Was that only an excuse, though? For his body was burning with indescribable desire as it sensed the previous eve's lover so close to him.
Pulling on his cloak and pocketing his wand, he went out as noiselessly as possible. His mother had stayed up with him all night and through the greater part of the day, hence, she was now asleep. The guests had departed. His father was in the store of the shop. It was almost as if Léon had waited for the perfect moment to summon him.
As he stood in the snow, he briefly wondered if he had imagined Léon for there seemed to be no one there. However, before he could turn back, he felt an arm around his shoulders and his stomach lurched as the familiar sensations of being transported via a Portkey seized him.
This time, Léon offered him no help but sat down on a settee on the other side of the room with his back to him.
Remus noticed that it wasn't the same room as before. Although lavishly decorated, it was much smaller and had a cosier feel to it. There was no fireplace, but it was quite warm. The windows were curtained. It had to be on the topmost floor, he surmised, since he could distinctly hear the sound of rain on the roof. He wondered which part of the country he was in.
He stood where he had been brought, waiting for Léon to make the first move.
"I cannot let you go."
It scared Remus. He could not see Léon's face and it scared him. There was no earlier endearment in his tone. His voice was angry and forceful. Coupled with the suspicions he had entertained not long before, it could only make Remus feel threatened.
Subconsciously, his hand had reached for his wand.
"No," repeated Léon, "I'd rather you not exist at all if you could not exist only for me."
Why was his possessiveness frightening now? He had been aroused by the insane domineering passion Léon had shown during their love-making. Was he afraid because Léon wasn't looking at him as he said that? He had never once spoken to him without directly looking at him. How would the fact make such a big difference in the feelings he evoked?
Léon stood up and finally faced him.
"I cannot be without you – which means I cannot kill you, can I?"
He advanced towards Remus. The latter felt like moving back but knew that it would be a big mistake on his part.
"Léon…" his voice was small, betraying his fear.
The other did not seem to have noticed it, though. He stopped in front of Remus, staring intently at him.
All of a sudden Remus felt as if his mind had been ripped apart. Flashes of memories swirled before his eyes… his old village further up north… the encounter with the werewolf… Dumbledore talking to his parents… full moon… boat-ride to Hogwarts… James… Sirius… Peter… the first feather he had spelled to fly… Lily… Snape… full moon… Avery… the O.W.L.s… Sirius' confession… the trysts with Sirius in the dead of the night… Léon…
He fell down with a cry, clutching his head.
What the hell had just happened?
He had hardly recovered from the shock of it, when he felt strong hands push him to the floor. A muttered spell later he was incapable of speaking and felt the energy drain out of his body. On the contrary, his mind seemed far more aware of what was happening to his body.
Léon was maniacal. His fingers tore frantically at his clothes. He bent down to arrest the unresponsive lips in a bruising kiss.
Bizarrely still, as Remus stared expressionlessly at his wild assaulter, he felt his initial terror leave him. Even if Léon had not spelled him into submission, he wasn't sure that he would have lashed out in protest. He did not attempt to close his eyes but gazed expressionlessly at Léon, who indeed proved to be less of a 'dream' as time passed.