Summary: Remus/Lily, set during their sixth year at Hogwarts. Merlin, why hadn't James told him how much fun fighting with Lily was?

Author's Note: Written for the first challenge (Tales of Sin and Virtue) of the LiveJournal community Red and the Wolf. My prompts were a Decemberists' song, first fight, and lust. The fic doesn't really have anything to do with the song as a whole, but that particular line inspired this story of awakening: "And all the stars were crashing 'round/As I laid eyes on what I'd found."

The two Hufflepuff girls dueled in the center of the group, hurling spells faster than Remus could see. They were both good, but one of them was gaining an advantage quickly. Eyes narrowed in concentration, jaws set and slick with sweat, it appeared that they were unaware of the clutch of thirty or so students around them, waiting.

Because of the war and all the losses, things had changed; and there was no end in sight, no future that anyone could call optimistic. Now, many of the students in Remus' year and the year ahead, the students closest to finishing school, were feeling the jaws of adulthood around their throats. Somehow immortality was no longer youth's manifest destiny; and, in dark corners and under sheets, death was somehow within every living breath, twisted into waking thoughts and fitful dreams like a smoky, noxious poison.

Between childhood and the grave, nothing but fighting, Remus thought dryly. He fingered his wand and glanced surreptitiously at the Marauder's Map in his pocket. No Filch anywhere about. There was a lookout posted, but Remus always felt better double checking.

Under the star-pricked sky, students had gathered atop the Astronomy Tower. Many leaned against the crenellations, some sat on the stone floor, others paced, a few drank butterbeer. Most tapped their wands nervously against knees or thighs while they watched the two Hufflepuffs. On the outskirts, Remus stood alongside Prefects from each of the other three houses. No one would be reported tonight, or any Thursday night. It was understood. This wasn't exactly breaking the rules. If they all agreed that it was practice, then it was practice. In truth, it was release.

Nothing but fighting.

It had started as a game between James, Sirius, Peter, and Remus – their own secret dueling club – and they met whenever they could. But they had been discovered by the Slytherin Prefect, Nicolas Gradenko, a not-entirely-unreasonable bloke who admitted that he knew of a small group of Slytherins who met for the same purpose. But instead of the Slytherin reporting the friends, a series of negotiations between the two Prefects, Remus and Nicolas, had begun – against the advice of James and certainly the approval of Sirius. In spite of their suspicion, before long there was a small group of students from all four houses meeting at the top of the Astronomy Tower. The collective Muffliato spells ensured that they wouldn't be heard below, and the barriers they had cast would keep anyone from being blasted from the battlements.

The people who had gathered tonight dueled for different reasons – to sharpen their skills and reflexes, to practice new spells, to blow off steam, even now and then to settle a grudge. The underbelly of the matter, however, was pale and vulnerable and quivering: simply, they were scared. Everyone by now had a family member or a friend who had disappeared or been killed by Death Eaters. Even Slytherins weren't untouched by what was happening these days. Nicolas had told Remus, in confidence, that he had close relatives who were Muggles, so perhaps he felt as frightened as Remus did. As everyone here, probably, did. Perhaps fighting made them believe they were doing something of worth, that they were somehow preparing for ... for what? What indeed? thought Remus. Only Merlin knew what they'd face when they left the safe bosom of Hogwarts. Remus glanced at the haughty, pale face of Nicolas on his left and saw his jaw working, the wand twirling between his thin fingers like the drumstick of a rock and roll drummer. Remus' gaze traveled on, past the onlookers' pinched faces, upward to the stars eyeing the insignificant duelers and spectators below. He felt like a tiny flame indeed, in comparison to that steadfast, celestial multitude; and he wondered, not for the first time, why he bothered doing this at all.

"Nguhh!" One of the girls was down.

The other stood over her, wand pointed at her friend's throat. She was breathing heavily and her wand was shaking. "Concede?"

"Nnn-hnngh." The girl on the ground nodded and coughed, a tiny geyser of blood spewing from her mouth. A rivulet of it slowly meandered across her jawline like a narrow river of red.

Students who were studying the healing arts rushed to the girl's side at once and provided counter-jinxes and healing spells while the victor crouched at her friend's side and assisted. The defeated girl reached out and clutched at the skirt of her friend, who clasped the hand briefly in return and continued working alongside the healers. Her eyes didn't betray any sense of self-satisfaction, only a grim acknowledgement of something. What that something was, Remus thought he knew. It wasn't about who won here. It was about who lost, and what that might mean in the real world.

The crowd shuffled and rearranged itself. Two more fighters would soon enter the center of the mob, but they had to wait for the healing of both duelers first. Remus felt it was important that the crowd see the aftermath of the fighting, and for the victor to participate in the healing; the pause between duels was a stipulation to which he had asked the other Prefects to agree.

Nothing but fighting, Remus mused again, his mouth rippling into a humorless smile.

He looked away and caught Lily watching the girls intently. Perhaps she'd fight tonight. Remus' heart fluttered a little at the thought. Blinking, he smacked at the unwanted emotion as one might swat away a fly. It worked. Well, it worked after he glanced at James. Tonight, Remus had deliberately stood on the opposite side of the tower from Lily, for he didn't think he could be trusted not to behave like a gibbering idiot if he were standing next to her. For weeks now Lily had somehow managed to find Remus while he was studying and plop down next to him. Although he had to admit was eternally grateful to have the excuse of silence in the library, it was usually all he could do to focus on his homework when she was near. How did James manage to act so smooth around her, rejection after rejection? Remus, out of loyalty to James, hadn't even allowed himself the thought of asking her out; even so, he became a tower of hormones whenever she was around, and any poised behavior went straight out the window. Along with all his three- and four-syllable words.

Next Sirius and a Ravenclaw stepped forward, bowing across the stone floor at each other. Immediately upon rising, Sirius' lightning-quick hexes illuminated the darkness as they flew across the space between the duelers in rapid succession, taking the fellow unawares and scorching his left arm. If a fight was like a conversation, Remus mused, then Sirius preferred to do all the talking himself. But soon the Ravenclaw recovered and fired back with a volley of his own spells. Sirius danced around them like a boxer in a ring, now and then taunting and making faces at his opponent. Sirius was rash, impulsive, and he left himself open to attack far too often, Remus thought. But he was bloody good, as well. Remus had learned a thing or two about the power of instinct, spontaneity, and sheer dogged resolve from dueling with his friend.

He'd learned lessons from dueling with James and Peter, as well. James was quick on his feet and creatively precise with his spells. Like a Muggle magician, he'd often distract his opponent with banter and descriptions of what he was about to do; then he'd change one small aspect of his spell and the duel would be over and he'd have won, somehow. Peter, on the other hand, was subtle and, frankly, sneaky. Although he wasn't the strongest dueler, he'd sometimes parry with the oddest, and sometimes most archaic, spells Remus had ever seen; but they worked, and often gave him an unexpected advantage. Remus wasn't sure where Peter had learned some of those ancient spells.

Several minutes later, Sirius was backing away from the advancing Ravenclaw, and the circle of people around the fighters widened to allow them room. Then he tripped, or pretended to – Remus was never sure which was which with Sirius – and the Ravenclaw was standing over him, wand trained on his face.

"Concede?" asked the Ravenclaw boy with a deep flush on his ruddy cheeks.

"What do you think?" replied Sirius without a hint of sarcasm. It was then that Remus noticed the wand that was pointed upward at the bloke's crotch.

"I think it would be wise – bloody hell!" The boy's eyes grew wide. He dropped his wand and grabbed at his testicles, which seemed to be growing to the size of melons.

Wordless. Only Sirius would have gone to the trouble to practice that one. Sirius stood and pointed his wand at the fellow's heart, proving without a doubt that he'd won, that he could have killed his opponent then and there. Too easy, Remus thought. He needs a challenge. Sirius helped the healers reverse the jinx and heal the burnt arm. Then he allowed his own small injuries to be healed. Afterwards, he backed away and settled back into the crowd, still panting, eyes flashing triumphantly.

Now Remus stepped forward. He acknowledged his rapid heart rate but tried to pay it no attention, to assign no meaning to it other than a physiologic response. He stood still and waited for an opponent to approach. He hadn't had an opportunity to duel in three weeks because of so many new participants wanting to fight, and he was fairly itching to practice his skills. Silently, he mapped out the fighting space in his head, took stock of what was in his peripheral vision, and tried to slow his breathing and quiet his mind so that he could sense what was around him.

If someone had asked his friends what they liked about Remus' dueling style, they'd probably have said it was this stillness, this calm and centered exterior, and the methodical way he hurled powerful spells from his wand – and sometimes weaker ones from the fingers of his opposite hand – with barely a twitch, and usually without words.

But these were also the things that irritated them most. James and Sirius appreciated showmanship; and Peter was downright dazzled by it. Remus, on the other hand, never having been one to show off, prized subtle, intelligent, and effective spells. How these spells materialized was irrelevant. In fact, the less attention the caster of those spells drew to himself, the more damage he might do. He himself could be the trap – the little dog with a powerful jaw, and sharp teeth, and a keen sense of where the vulnerable artery lay hidden.

Seconds after Remus took his position in the center of the throng, the crowd parted to allow an opponent to enter the ring. Lily's hair shone darkly copper in the light from the flaming torches as she approached him, and her eyes glittered green-black as they captured Remus' in silent greeting.

Oh, bollocks, thought Remus as his pulse thundered a warning in his body.

James had never fought Lily. He was terrified he might accidentally hurt her and then she'd never stop hating him. Now Remus found himself worrying about the same thing. How was he supposed to fight Lily? But one could never refuse an opponent; it was one of the rules. He took in a deep breath and let it out, which did nothing to reign in the horse that was galloping away with his heart.

And now they were bowing to each other. As they rose, Remus' fingers gripped his wand, waiting. Defense, he told himself.

Lily stood watching him, her small hand curled around the wand at her side. She appeared to be waiting, too.

Their eyes remained locked in a silent contest. Who would fire the first spell? Remus had never maintained such eye contact with Lily, and it was unsettling and exciting at once.

Slowly Lily raised her wand and Remus followed suit immediately, lifting his at the same measured rate. If any of the watchers had been asked whose wand came up first, they couldn't have said. This was part of Remus' method, a deliberate mirroring of his opponent. He reflected back to them what they offered. If they wanted to blast him backwards, he'd go backwards, whether or not the hex had hit him … but he'd shoot a spell to bring the opponent with him so that it was the opponent who fell forward onto his face. If it was fire they wanted to cast, it was fire they'd get in return. Expelliarmus was more tricky, but Remus had nearly figured out a way to curve the spell back around to the caster.

Again, if a fight was like a conversation, and Remus often thought it was, then he was merely telling his opponent what they wanted to hear.

And once the opponent had decided that all Remus was about to do was to mirror the spells sent his way, Remus would open all the stops and fire the most obscure and effective spells he could think of, taking advantage of what he had gradually perceived as his challenger's weaknesses and usually defeating him then and there.

Remus enjoyed a quiet pride in reading the body language of his challengers, and he never used Legilimency to give himself an advantage. He wanted to train himself to fight well enough without it, just in case … well, in case he met a masked Death Eater and was unable to make eye contact.

Now Remus thought he'd give anything not to have to look Lily in the eye, into those damned distracting eyes that could send him into twenty minutes of helpless daydreaming during History of Magic. And now those eyes were boring into his, and he thought he'd never seen anyone so … so present as she was now, as if there were nothing but the two of them perched on the ramparts like birds on a twig, under the deep, protective bowl of the sky, with the world going to hell just outside the walls of Hogwarts. With her wand trained steadily on him, Lily fixed Remus with a grave stare that told him he was the only thing she saw right now. And it dawned on him that he liked that feeling very much, the feeling of being the only one under her gaze. It was as if she were suddenly more real to him, stamped creamily in her faded hiphuggers against the black, starry sky in sudden, garish, and unavoidable relief; and he felt more real in her presence, somehow. He blinked. Her unique existence seemed so absolute that she almost shimmered. Remus shivered involuntarily, and he realized with a desperate, elated feeling that he was, indeed, and in spite of all the avoidance and self-talk and rationalizations, yes, he was – he was – madly and irrevocably in love with Lily Evans.

Well, that's out, then.

It was a relief, in a way, to acknowledge it at last. But part of his mind realized that this was possibly the oddest time he could have picked to realize how badly he wanted her. Not to mention inconvenient.

"Come on, hex her!" hissed a familiar voice from the crowd.

"Shut up, Sirius!" whispered James. Peter tittered.

And with that, the inertia was broken and Lily shot off a Petrificus Totalus, which Remus deflected almost as quickly as it left her wand. Defense, he reminded himself again. That's all. I won't fight her.

A trio of hexes came toward him then, and he felt his hair rustling as they passed by, deflected. Next a powerful Jelly-Brain Jinx hurtled his way, and he had to brace himself against it behind a shield. Lily's brow furrowed and a frown deepened at the corners of her mouth. Her pretty mouth. No time for that, Remus thought. Pay attention. But it was hard to pay attention to dueling when one had just realized one was in love.

He watched her eyes and body; she was ramping up her game and he knew he'd better prepare. Suddenly he felt the energy of an Incendio spiraling toward him, and all he could do was leap away. His shirt and the hairs of his arm beneath where the sleeve was rolled up were singed.

Hmm, thought Remus. He was suddenly a little afraid of her, and more than a bit turned on. Lily was fighting with all her might, and the fire in her eyes was glorious. Part of him wished he could watch this duel from the sidelines, but part of him was so very glad he was here in it.

Four more hexes hurtled toward him, and once again he didn't mirror them back but instead shielded or deflected them. Lily was quick, too quick; and he realized that he was sweating. Suddenly she leapt toward him and covered the central space as she performed a shoulder roll, just as they had learned in their hand-to-hand combat seminars. When she leapt up, she was merely a step away from him; and the jinx she threw at him point-blank bounced off his reflexive shield and onto several people on the outskirts. Minor pandemonium ensued, and he saw healers in his peripheral vision scurrying over to the affected bystanders. That had never happened before, and Remus was at once worried and thrilled. Lily, you little vixen …

She stepped into him and unexpectedly grabbed his right wrist, immobilizing his wand hand and twisting the point away from her. She held her wand above and behind her, trained on him like the stinger of a scorpion. But Remus' arm was longer, so he clasped the heel of her hand in return, twisting the wand away from him. In that way they stood, panting into each other's faces, for a full thirty seconds. Remus felt sweat trickling down his back. The way her skin glistened in the dancing light of the stars and the moonlight and the torches was almost too much for him to endure. He thought he very well might crumple under the weight of her unwavering stare.

"Fight!" she whispered harshly, her eyes sending hooks straight into his heart.

"No," he said simply.

"Fight me!"

"I'd rather not."

"Then what the bloody hell are you doing up here?" she gritted.

"Something I hadn't planned on," he admitted. And, without meaning to, his eyes dropped hungrily to her lips for a moment. Eyes, he thought, not lips! When his gaze darted up again, merely a second later, Lily's head tilted, her expression alert and full of interest. Oh, fuck, he thought.

At the exact same moment, they split apart and began hurling spells at one another rapidly, randomly, with a zeal and exuberance Remus hadn't known he possessed. He realized suddenly that he couldn't disappoint Lily by not obliging her wish for a duel – but neither could he injure her. Remus kept his spells simple and as harmless as he could. He was pleased to see that Lily managed to deflect or dodge all of them, returning her own spells quickly and with clout. One jinx did manage to slip past her, an Aguamenti, which soaked her white peasant blouse to the skin. Remus immediately regretted casting that one, as the distraction he now had to suffer would surely count as a backfire, though it didn't seem to distract Lily in the least. Perhaps she'd let it land on purpose, knowing the effect it would have on him. On any man. Smart girl. He grinned at her and felt butterflies in his heart when he saw her grin back.

For the first time, dueling with Lily, Remus felt as though he were participating in a fight that was a two-way conversation. Lily was giving as good as – no, better than – she got; and Remus had no choice but to respond in kind. His hexes became more complex and a little more dangerous when he saw that he wasn't likely to hurt her. It was delightful exploring the limits of his power with her as she stood authoritatively across from him and wielded a dangerous ability herself. He wished he could Evanesco the crowd from the parapets so that they could fight alone all night, and then …

It's nothing but fighting, he reminded himself. Nothing but fighting.

But images of sweaty, sloppy post-duel kissing and reckless, passionate post-duel shagging had already implanted themselves firmly in his mind. Merlin, why hadn't James told him how much fun fighting with Lily was?

Minutes whirred by, and Remus was only dimly aware of the crowd's growing excitement around them. People were shouting and hooting as he and Lily launched spell after spell at each other, holding nothing back and reaching into their memories for the most unexpected and arcane spells, jinxes, and hexes they could recall. They were both panting quickly, their faces and bodies slick with sweat from leaping and dodging and approaching and retreating as they chased each other about the ramparts. Remus was aware of the beginnings of a headache behind his eyes from the duration and intensity of concentration. He'd probably have a migraine tomorrow. But it was worth it, oh so worth it. He'd never felt as full of potential, as alive and present, as he did tonight, right now, locked in common purpose with Lily Evans in front of thirty other pairs of eyes.

Over time their movements began to slow as their feet and limbs became heavier from fatigue. The spells now were more subtle, and tricky; but the Protego shields and Hex-Deflections they employed remained essential as they began to tire. The crowd eventually became restless, agitated. They wanted the fight over so that someone else could duel. But how could this end? Remus really didn't think he could, or should, defeat Lily. And clearly she couldn't defeat him.

And now they stood, breathing heavily with their wands pointed at one another across the distance, each waiting for the other to launch the next spell. Slowly, Remus lowered his wand and walked toward her, defenseless. Lily's wand remained on him for a moment, but then she, too, lowered hers.

He stood before her, trying to catch his breath, for several seconds.

"I concede," he murmured. Why did it feel so good saying that, to her?

Lily's brow twitched, and the beginnings of a smile found the corners of her mouth. "Accepted," she said. "This time."

"Agreed," said Remus. And he burst into a grin.

"You're good," she said quietly, appraising him with a look of frank approval as healers buzzed around them, repairing their small injuries. "Do you want to fight again sometime?"

"Yes," he replied immediately. He hoped his blush wasn't stealing any semblance of cool he might have managed to recover since his unceremonious surrender. "I mean, you're good, too."

"Thanks for noticing," she replied with a grin.

How could I not? Remus thought.

With shaking legs, he found his way to the nearest battlement and sat down against it. At once, James, Peter, and Sirius swarmed him, clapping him on the back and making lewd comments about the success of the Watering Jinx. "I owe you for that one," said James, eyebrows waggling.

Remus rolled his eyes.

"Maybe I should fight Evans after all," James went on. "Looks like she's pretty good."

"She'd demolish you," said Remus, unable to keep the smugness out of his voice.

James punched him on the shoulder and, thankfully, dropped the subject. Now Remus felt rather protective of his new dueling partner and found that he didn't really care to share her at all.

As two more combatants approached each other, Remus suddenly found himself looking forward to fighting again, and longing for the feeling of being unabashedly alive. He could be a bonfire here on earth, not just a guttering candle. The little fires in the sky had nothing to say against this argument as his gaze traveled upward to take in the constellations again, which somehow looked different now, as if they were on his side at last. Perhaps it was he who had changed.

Between childhood and the grave, nothing but fighting, he mused again … but this time he thought he just might be up to the challenge. He searched past the duelers and caught Lily's eye and smiled. She smiled back. He hugged his knees and leaned his head back against the stone wall, closing his eyes contentedly. At the moment, his own grave seemed a long, long way away.