One wish alone have I

Chapter 12 (part 3)
The full moon came...

I was completely exhausted and slept through most of the day. The meeting began early in the evening, so Remus and I did not have much time to discuss the previous night’s events before the Order members arrived. From what I remember, he was very supportive and gave me all the hugs I longed for when we both curled up in what was to remain a Transfigured loveseat from then on. Still mourning for Catalina’s death, I was entirely dressed in black robes, except for the shawl which I wore tight around my shoulders. Severus acted like he did not notice when he saw it.

“So from what you told us, Antanasia, some internal conflicts have begun in both Zaharia and Russia and we have reason to believe that their allegiance to Voldemort is less certain now,” said Dumbledore, after I finished talking.

“Exactly. From what Countess Valerica told me, and after the news of one of my friends’ death during a confrontation, I fear that these internal conflicts might even become an internal war during the upcoming months.”

“Who started that war?” asked Shacklebolt. “And who is leading each side in the conflict?”

“Valerica did not give me any details; she feared our conversation might have been spied on. My best guess is that those who disagree with Marilena’s decision and totalitarian power talked to each other and began to regroup. They still might be meeting in secret, which motivated her discretion about them,” I explained.

“We have a son in Romania right now. Could that war spread outside the Clans and put humans in danger?” asked Molly Weasley, with worry freckling each of her words.

“At this point, I know too little to evaluate that kind of danger, Mrs Weasley,” I answered. “But in most of our wars, unless humans were personally involved in our conflicts or voluntarily became allies, the confrontations stayed between members of my kind.”

“Anyway, Countess Valerica did tell you that these people would manage to keep everything hidden from us, until the conflicts, or war, are over,” concluded Arthur Weasley, putting a comforting hand on his wife’s shoulder.

“That gives us considerable latitude in front of the Dark Lord,” said Severus, who was a bit paler than usual because of his lack of sleep.

“Let’s not abuse it, though,” growled Moody from the end of the table. “We cannot rely solely on that woman’s word, or fool Voldemort too long. She offered no guarantee that nothing about the confrontations will leak into a Death Eater’s ears.”

“What do you have in mind?” asked Mister Weasley to Severus, who kept a protective hand on the poetry book on the table.

“We should confirm Lady Marilena’s allegiance to him, but we should not give it that easily. Antanasia should negotiate a treaty before she gives her official support in Marilena’s name.”

“I agree. The more he believes that we are willing to help him, the less likely he is to seek cainites’ help elsewhere in Europe. Even if their participation would not be as significant as that of Russia or Zaharia, we do not want them against us,” I commented.

“When do you think you can arrange that meeting, Severus?” asked Dumbledore.

“Tomorrow evening at the earliest. Things have been relatively calm, lately, so I am confident that I will be able to bring Antanasia to him very soon,” he replied, his voice vibrant with self-importance.

“Keep us informed about this,” Dumbledore concluded. “Before we go, does anybody have something to report?”

“Yeah, I kinda do,” said the young witch with the changing hairstyles. “We have a problem with tonight’s guard shift at Azkaban. Sturgis called in sick in the afternoon and he was supposed to take the next shift.”

“Who is there right now?” asked Moody.

“Hestia is there, but she’s already been on guard since midnight yesterday so she’s totally fried. She can’t stay longer tonight. I absolutely need a replacement.”

“Could somebody volunteer for tonight?” asked Dumbledore calmly.

“Lupin has not been on any guard shifts in Azkaban for over a month, from what I recall,” Severus murmured, staring at Remus.

“You’re right, Severus, but--” Remus begun.

“Do not get me wrong, however,” he continued, in an unctuously low voice. “I can understand that we have been indulgent in the past because of your… grief, but after all these months…”

“I don’t remember any particular indulgence of that kind, on the contrary!” Remus replied, with a mounting tension behind his casual tone.

“He’s right, Severus,” said Mrs Weasley, “the only times he missed were… you know…”

“Ah, it is true,” conceded Severus, with a menacing satisfaction glittering in his eyes. “How rude of me to suggest your candidature for tonight; I seem to have forgotten your… handicap.”

“Severus! What are you doing? The man is still recovering, can you not see it?” I hissed, in his mind.

But it was too late. Severus had hit right on the tender spot and I felt Remus’s muscles and temper get considerably tense. His pride was hurt, which rendered me quite powerless. How could I humiliate him more by volunteering in his place after such a remark?

“Whatever… handicap you might be talking about, Severus, I feel well enough to take the guard shift tonight,” said Remus affirmatively.

“You are not obligated, Remus,” replied Dumbledore, as calmly as ever.

“I know. But I am almost completely recovered now, thanks to a very knowledgeable nurse,” he declared, holding my hand over the table and giving me a grateful side-glance. “I will handle it, no problem.”

“Very well, then,” said Dumbledore, his eyes as bright as ever.

The meeting ended with this. The witch with funny hairstyles came directly to us and Remus introduced her as Nymphadora Tonks. The first thing that struck me was her dynamism; that woman was vibrant with liveliness, from head to toe, whatever colour shades were between them. She told Remus that a wizard named Mundungus Fletcher would replace him the following morning. Remus smiled doubtfully when he heard the name, but he made no other comment. I looked around for Severus, but he was nowhere in the room… and the poetry book was gone with him. I got to my feet and was walking to the door when a familiar presence curled up in my mind again.

“I will contact you tomorrow to let you know if the Dark Lord agrees for a meeting tomorrow night. I will send the message by Phineas Nigellus; please make yourself ready for any possibility.”

“I will,” I simply replied, trying to reproduce Minerva’s crisp politeness the best I could.

Remus limped upstairs to change into warmer clothes while I accompanied everybody to the front door. I tried to ignore the sound of his cane knocking on each stair. Minerva, Dumbledore and I chatted for a few minutes on the doorstep before they left and disappeared behind the door. To my surprise, as I turned to go downstairs in the kitchen, Alastor Moody was standing right behind me.

“Just a question, if you don’t mind,” he said, fixing me with his peculiar pair of eyes.

“Not at all…” I answered, unable to choose which eye I should look at.

“What have you been doing to Lupin here? He said you helped him with his symptoms…”

“I am trying to train him into resisting his lycanthropy attacks; that is mostly mental work. But I also gave him a few potions and lotions to help with the physical after effects.”

“Potions, eh?” he repeated, his blue eye probing me. “How come we never heard of these before?”

“I developed them with the help of my late husband…. He suffered from lycanthropy, too. But given the restrictions of my Clan’s jurisdiction, I have not been able to make the formulas public. Would you like to take a look at the potions?” I said, holding out a hand to invite him in the kitchen.

He remained silent and kept staring suspiciously at me, his blue eye looking at me from head to toe, occasionally stopping on my mouth or eyes.

“Mister Moody,” I said, as calmly as I could. “I only want to help Remus… and the Order. If there is anything I can do to prove my sincerity…”

“That’s something that needs to be proven indeed, but only time will allow you to do that. Don’t fool yourself into thinking that it’s something you can win in a few nights of service in the Order.”

“Years, if I recall…” I corrected.

“As for the young man upstairs, he’s a good boy,” he continued, as if I had talked to his wooden leg. “I don’t know what you gave him, but he does look better this time. Don’t you mess up with him; I’ll keep an eye on you.”

“No need to tell me which one…” I thought.

And on this, he limped his way outside, answering my “good night” with a growl. Remus arrived shortly after and helped me prepare some tea and a few things for him to munch on while on his guard shift. What he explained about it did not reassure me too much, however. He told me that the Ministry’s slow reaction to recognize that the Dark Lord had come back to power had sometimes reached the point of blunt denial. It had given time to Voldemort’s followers to gain back their control over the Dementors, which were still guarding Azkaban, but under tighter surveillance. The Order had obtained the Ministry’s permission to post at least one member permanently there, where the recently captured Death Eaters were imprisoned.

“I really do not like the idea of you being surrounded by Dementors for hours, Remus,” I said, once we found ourselves in the hall.

“Hey, don’t you worry! I’m a big boy, I can defend myself!” he teased, pinching my cheek gently. “They do linger around, but they usually don’t bother us too much. And if they do, I can produce a pretty strong Patronus; not the best, but enough to protect some very recent happy memories I want to keep.”

“When do you plan to be back?” I asked, handing him his cloak.

“Tomorrow afternoon, at the latest. Mundungus is not very reliable, but he usually manages to show within a few hours around a given rendezvous time. So don’t worry if I’m a little late.”

“I will probably be sleeping anyway,” I said, adjusting a warm scarf around his neck.

“Keeping the coffin warm, I guess?” he murmured, with a naughty smile.

“In a way, yes…” I said, running my hand up and down his scarf in long, slow strokes.

He took my hand in his and delicately caressed my fingers with his lips. I felt his thin, soft moustache tickle my skin, drawing a large grin on my lips though I still did not like the idea that he was about to leave in such precarious physical health. Under my fingertips, his lips drew a smile as well.

“I was thinking… maybe I should feed the Dementors with a happy memory right after my arrival…”

“What do you have in mind?” I asked, while letting him wrap his other arm around my waist and pull me against him.

“What about a good night kiss?” he whispered, leaning towards me.

I put my fingertips right back on his lips, keeping him at a respectful distance from me.

“We do not give good night kisses where I come from,” I giggled. “We give good day ones. And if you are to consider that moment like Dementor food, then you are not worth any kiss at all!”

“You little teaser,” he said, pressing me tight in his arms.

“Here,” I said, nibbling on his earlobe before I sucked gently on it, after which he rewarded me with a hoarse little moan. “You can give that moment to the Dementors… or choose to keep it vibrate in your mind until you come back. That will help you to remain awake!”

“It certainly will…” he whispered, clutching the skin on my back through my robes.

I remember it so well… the touch of his soft hair against my nose and forehead… a never-ending embrace that made him press me firmly against him, compressing my breasts against his chest, with him holding his breath in the intensity of the moment… the smell of his skin, part tame, part wild, just like him…. I felt the urge to slide a lustful thigh between his legs and press it against his crotch or just make him remove all his clothes to feel him naked against me once more. But he came back to reason before I did.

“Ok… I totally hate to, but I have to go now. On the count of three… one, two, three!”

“I will be waiting for you!” I said, in the doorframe.

Happiness and desire took the shape of a small cloud of mist when it came out of his grin, in a discreet huff.

I did not sleep in my coffin that day.

~*~

When I woke up, I noticed that the bed was still empty, to my disappointment. I took a quick shower and, wrapped in a large towel on my way back to my resting room, I called for Remus, but he did not seem to be anywhere in the house. When I entered my room, someone was waiting for me.

“Look who has finally decided to honour me with her presence!” sneered Professor Nigellus in his painting.

“Good afternoon, Professor. May I be of assistance?” I courteously replied, ignoring his rudeness.

“I have a message for you. Please be in front of the Leaky Cauldron at 6:00 tonight. You are invited to dinner.”

“Then please inform Professor Snape that I will meet him as requested, but will not be requiring any food. It will be too early for me to feed. Tell him I will gladly sit at a table with him while he is having dinner, however, if that is his wish.”

The wizard bowed gravely and, with a last look at my towel, left for Hogwarts. I checked my watch; it was 4:30 pm. Remus had specified that his replacement would probably be late, yet he expected to be back during the afternoon. I frowned, but decided not to worry too much. If something had happened to him, I would have been alerted. Smiling and putting on my black robes, I thought of how deliciously ironic it would be if Remus arrived shortly before I had to go… and how far that hug would go if it happened… or if, after all, he came back before 5:00 pm…

Unfortunately, ten minutes before 6:00 pm, I was still pacing the dining room with a nervous lump in my throat, but there was no sign of Remus. I ran upstairs and retrieved a quill and a piece of parchment. I scribbled a note and left it on the dinner table, telling him that I was gone for the evening but would be back in no time… and was looking forward to it.

Severus was already waiting for me when I arrived at the Leaky Cauldron. I had Apparated to Diagon Alley this time, as I wanted to enjoy a bit of fresh air before I arrived there. His glance surveyed my movements intensely, and he rewarded me with his polite but courteous nod when I reached his level. He led me to a private table in the back of the room, which was already filled with an interesting crowd. A few old-looking wizards sat at the bar and spoke animatedly, giving each other sonorous claps in the back. Two middle-aged witches were bent very low towards each other and whispered excitedly over two cups of tea (one of them even had the tip of her hair swimming in it). They were probably deeply absorbed in the latest gossip of the week.

The closer we got to our table, the more I noticed that the people surrounding us seemed less and less friendly. They looked like the type of people you do not want to meet on a deserted street in the middle of the night. Most of them were either absorbed in a discreet conversation or were alone at their tables having a lonely talk with their drink… which did not seem to be their first one. Nevertheless, it offered us the kind of quiet and private atmosphere that I appreciated. Besides, the strange couple we formed belonged more to this part of the room than to the more animated part….

“So, what is the occasion?” I asked, once we were properly seated.

“You do realise that last time we had dinner together was in July…” he answered, taking the menu the waiter was offering him.

“I do realise it… but why do you feel that need tonight?”

“The opportunity was there; I was replaced for the whole evening at Hogwarts…” he replied evasively.

“Really? Is that the only reason?” I insisted, doubtfully. “Then I am surprised that you did not think of coming to the Headquarters for a visit… We would have been glad to share a meal with you.”

“We? I do not think so,” he replied, rather darkly.

“Severus… from what Remus told me, he does not seem to have a problem with you. However, from what I saw yesterday and on a few occasions before, you do seem to have a problem with him. Has this been going on for a long time or is it a recent inspiration of yours?” I asked, looking straight at him.

“Obviously, there are things that you do not know, Antanasia. And part of my intentions tonight are to make them known to you, so you can have a… clearer view.”

“Ok, go ahead. What is it that I should know?”

“First things first, my dear. Are you sure you will not even have a drink with me?” he purred.

“I am not sure it is too wise to drink before a meeting with… you know,” I whispered, throwing him a meaningful look.

“You are perfectly right on that. I was talking about a more… nutritive drink, for you.”

“Fine… a small glass, then,” I finally conceded.

Severus ordered our dinner and, once the waiter left our table, he leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms and legs, as if he wanted to get a better look… of what, I did not know at the moment. I raised my mental barriers again, just like in the good not-so-old days.

“As I said a few minutes ago, there are things you do not know about Lupin. I guess you find me quite unfair to have such a despicable attitude towards him.”

“Well… admitting the facts is a step in the right direction, I guess,” I answered, wondering where this strange conversation would lead us.

“Has Lupin told you about his friends, at school?”

“Yes, he talked about many happy memories of that time… and the years that followed, before one of them died.”

“And I suppose he did not mention what he and his friends were doing for fun, at school?”

“He mentioned many things… some were rather reprehensible, but I guess those were normal things for an adolescent like him,” I commented.

“Did those things mention harassing other students?”

“He did relate a few pranks, yes, but--”

“I am talking about selective, repetitive, restless persecution here,” he articulated, very slowly, with a most discreet pink flush spreading on his cheeks. “Lupin and his little friends took great pleasure in humiliating other students who had the unfortunate displeasure of not meeting their approval.”

And he went on and on with countless examples about how he witnessed Remus make other students’ lives miserable during their Hogwarts years. He would have continued for quite a long time if I had not interrupted him after a particularly nasty illustration that involved many jinxes and the Hogwarts Lake.

“I can hardly imagine Remus doing such things…” I said, tilting my head to the side.

“And that is precisely what made him always get away with it, Antanasia. People did not think such meanness was possible with him. People did not think he could do harm to others, given the personal problems he had himself. But do not be fooled by his apparently mellow temper. He has more from the wolf than from the human.”

I said nothing and looked at the table, lost in my thoughts. Indeed, such meanness was difficult to believe, coming from such a sweet soul as his. I had certainly stumbled upon a few bad pranks he had played with his friends, during our Legilimency links, but I had not seen anything that fit with Severus’ description. Seeing that I still had doubts, Severus put one more card on the table.

“You know how far he went one night? It was during the full moon… his friends managed to bring a student right next to the room where he had transformed. He nearly killed him.”

Both of my eyebrows shot upwards and my mouth opened in a silent gasp. I did not want to believe him, yet there was this sincerity in his voice that informed me at once that he was telling the naked truth. I did not even have to check any further to be convinced of it.

“Well,” I finally said, frowning in front of the glass of Blood potion that had just been served to me. “This certainly makes me see him in a totally new light…”

“There are always two sides on a coin,” he said, philosophically.

“I guess so…”

“Remus and I are going to have a little talk about this…” I thought.

“Enjoy your meal,” he said, rising his glass and tapping it gently against mine.

We spent the rest of that strange meal talking briefly about a few points I would negotiate with the Dark Lord, and then he moved to other more pleasant topics, exactly like when he was imprisoned in Zaharia. And once more, the magic worked between us. Just like we could forget for hours that he was not a free man in Zaharia, we forgot about all the darkness surrounding us then. I can even say that Severus was close to being charming. Even if he did not go as far as granting me with a smile, he did prove to be a most resourceful and stimulating interlocutor.

At a quarter before 8:00 pm, we left the Leaky Cauldron and went once more in the gloomy narrow street we had walked in last time. The weather was far less dreadful, fortunately, and we did not meet the prostitute who had been so blunt and brutal previously. Once again, we found ourselves in the dark back store and, before he asked permission to Apparate into the Death Eaters\' Headquarters, he popped the usual question.

“Is there anything you would like to dis--”

But he did not have time to finish. The door opened behind us and startled me slightly. A small man entered, but he was so tightly wrapped in his cloak that I did not get any view of his face before he closed the door behind him and plunged us in the dark again.

“Hi Severus,” he said, with an eagerness to please in his voice that I did not like.

“Pettigrew,” was Severus’ only answer.

“I see you’re here with the emissary,” he continued, with a peculiar lisp in his speech. “Aren’t you going to introduce us?”

“Certainly,” he replied, rather coolly. “Antanasia, this is Peter Pettigrew.”

“The Dark Lord’s personal assistant,” he pompously added, before finding and shaking my hand in the dark, surprising me with a very firm grip.

“A pleasure to meet you, Mister Pettigrew,” I answered, as formally as I could, following Severus’ example in such situations.

“Have you sent the signal, Severus?” Pettigrew asked.

“Not yet; I was about to when you came in.”

Pettigrew walked to the wall and, after two missed trials, finally produced a glowing line and pressed his forearm against it. I got a glimpse of something shiny that was mostly covered with his right glove, but as soon as he lowered his arms, it disappeared from view.

“I guess all we have to do is wait now,” Pettigrew declared.

Severus did not reply, but discreetly moved closer to me. I felt the feathery touch of his arm against mine when he reached me. I wondered if he would dare to make a Legilimency link and ask me to “take position” like the time before, but he obviously did not. As soon as the light turned blue, however, he grabbed me by the waist and pulled me to him. He did it in such a possessive manner that I almost had the impression that he was worried I might have chosen to Apparate with the other man instead. He had barely closed his arms around me when I felt my feet leave the ground… and then we bumped against something soft.

“For Merlin’s sake, Pettigrew, move to the side after you have Apparated! The landing point is rather narrow here!” Severus said in an exasperated tone, while I took a few steps back.

“Yes, yes, no need to be so blunt!” he squeaked, before walking towards the door.

Severus gave me a glance with an obvious question. In answer, I found his hand and intertwined his cold fingers in mine. The brief but firm squeeze I gave them, followed by my encouraging smile, put an end to his visual questioning and we followed Pettigrew in the corridor.

There is not much to say about this particular Death Eaters\' meeting. The Dark Lord was there in person, along with the dark-haired witch I had seen last time and an untidy wizard whom I met for the first time. Nobody introduced them to me; Severus told me that the Dark Lord was still unsure if I was worthy of his trust to the point of giving me the names of his followers. Nevertheless, Severus told me that I had seen Bellatrix Lestrange and Walden McNair that evening; two names that I unfortunately knew already.

After the usual ceremonial bow, the Dark Lord allowed Severus to sit on the side with the others, but I obviously was not granted that privilege. So it was while standing once more in front of that mighty creature that I informed him of Lady Marilena’s supposed will to give him the Clan’s allegiance, with some reservations. I expressed her worries about the Russian Clans’ intentions and especially about their share of the broods and Clans in Western Europe after the war.

“Are you suggesting,” articulated the unpleasant voice, “that Lord Voldemort is not just when giving his gratitude?”

“Not at all, your Lordship,” I said, bowing my head respectfully. “I can only assume that your Lordship’s decisions are perfectly justified. Lady Marilena, like most cainites in the Clan, is more worried about the Russian’s well-known hunger for new territory.”

“The tell Lady Marilena that the way territories will be dispatched between the two Clans after the war is not something I should care about,” he declared, in an almost disgusted tone. “Nevertheless, if I know how to punish disobedience, I also know how to reward loyal service. I am sensitive to the fact that Lady Marilena was the first to answer my request. I shall take that in consideration when the time comes for me to give rewards.”

“Your Lordship is most generous,” I said, bowing again.

“That might change, however,” he added in a warning tone, narrowing his red eyes dangerously. “The distribution might also go by merit. Your Clan scored a point; it could lose some in the future.”

If I remember correctly, the rest of our negotiation was spent talking about where our soldiers would be hidden when the time would come for them to move to England. Following one of Severus’ suggestions, I even went as far as obtaining that a percentage of prisoners that were to be executed, whether they were Muggles or not, would be given to us for food. Severus thought that the Dark Lord would appreciate a feel of cruelty coming from our kind and he was right; I did not have to argue for long and the tone of our conversation changed very slightly for the better.

“What are you ready to give, in exchange for my generosity?” he finally asked, after we settled a matter or two.

“I have already mentioned the constitution of our army to your Lordship…” I began.

“You personally,” he bluntly intervened. “Did you have the intention to go back to Zaharia immediately after your emissary mission was fulfilled?”

“Lady Marilena gave no orders of that kind, your Lordship,” I answered, trembling slightly in the expectation of his answer.

“Then I guess that could be of use to me. It would only prove Lady Marilena’s genuine willingness to join my side.”

“What use does your Lordship think I could be?” I asked, trying to ignore the fact that I was being traded like common livestock.

“That is to be decided; I have nothing to order you for now. Just remain ready until I call for you,” he declared.

“I will, your Lordship,” I said, bowing obediently.

“That will be all for tonight, we have other matters to discuss. Severus, take her away from here,” he ordered, pointing at the door.

Without a word, Severus went out the room and I followed him. Still without a word, he opened his arms and I grabbed his shoulders. We Apparated back to the dark room again in a vague but enticing sandalwood smell.

“I do not have much time, I have to go right back,” he whispered, while I walked away from his embrace.

“What do you want me to do? Should I wait here until the meeting is over?” I asked, feeling with a shiver that his hand was discreetly lingering over my hip.

“We have not met for a long time; the meeting might be long. I think… you should go back home,” he replied, with a slight touch of regret in his voice.

“I will do that… what do you think about how the negotiations went, so far?”

“I think your performance was acceptable… but it is not the time or place to discuss it,” he whispered. “Wait until I contact you.”

“You are right, of course… I will do that,” I said, feeling his need to hurry in his voice.

“Good evening,” he concluded, raising his wand.

“Good evening,” I replied, before I heard him Disapparate in a loud crack.

I hurried back to Diagon Alley, trying to avoid other people’s glances as I walked. However, once I found myself on the more cheerful street, I took the time to take a little walk and fully think about the evening’s events before I went back home. My first thoughts went to the meeting; it had gone not too bad indeed, though I did have to tell the Dark Lord that I would be willing to offer my services to him. Severus had reassured me before that evening in his own way by telling me that the more delicate tasks, such as selective “eliminations”, important interrogation sessions or big robberies were usually reserved for more experienced and trusted Death Eaters. He estimated that my tasks and skills would make the Dark Lord assign me to various spying activities at first and with time, that he might have me interrogate people of lesser importance for him. I loathed the idea anyway, but it was too late for regrets.

Shortly after these thoughts whirled in my mind, the Leaky Cauldron was in sight. It brought me right back to the conversation Severus and I had had about Remus. I remembered a few of the examples he had related to me, and I tried to imagine Remus having evil fun bullying other people around him. Despite the obvious sincerity in Severus’ voice, my mind just could not figure out how that beautifully tempered lycanthropic could have ever been able to do such things. I sighed. He was probably back home, by now, and I still did not feel ready to face him. I opted for a longer promenade, in hope that a little bit of exercise would clear up my mind. In the shadows of a small street, I Transfigured into a discreet common eagle, and rose fast into the air.

It took me some time before I realised that I was considering the problem in the wrong context. It occurred to me that sharing of information for mere altruistic purposes seemed very far from Severus’ self-centred nature in personal relationships. I began looking for a plausible reason why he had told me all those negative things about Remus. Jealousy did cross my mind, but not in the way that is now obvious to me. At the time I concluded that Severus, for some reason that I did not know given my recent arrival in the Order, felt that his importance or competence was somewhat threatened in the Order, so he had the need to diminish others to regain some dignity. Given the things I had seen in his mind when Andrei attacked him and his panicked reaction, I naturally came to the conclusion that Remus was an easy target for him. By the time I landed on the dried grass on Grimmauld Place, I had convinced myself that Severus had probably exaggerated the truth; if indeed there was any truth in his words. I came in with a smile.

I hurriedly removed my cloak, resisting the urge to call for Remus from the hall, which would have woken up the portraits in the corridor. I distractedly grabbed a hanger, keeping my eyes on the staircase and expecting him to just burst in the hall. It is when I turned my head to hang my cloak in the closet that it struck me. His cloak was not there. I tiptoed downstairs and rushed into the kitchen area but there was no sign of Remus there and my note was exactly where I had left it. With worry starting to creep into my heart, I ran upstairs and checked in his room, but his bed was empty. I sat on the bed and feverishly imagined thousands of plausible reasons for his absence, when a thought popped into my mind and made me jump to my feet. Grinning mischievously, I tumbled down the stairs and rushed into my resting room. I excitedly lifted the lid of my coffin, already admiring the nerve he had to wait for me in there, but all I found was Mrs Snape’s shawl, neatly folded like I had left it two afternoons earlier.

Huffing in disappointment, I moodily closed the lid and crossed my arms over my chest. I did not like the sound of his absence. After such a long shift in his physical state, he was probably exhausted; why had he not come right back home?

“Maybe he is with someone else…” I thought. “Or maybe he does not want to come back home? Maybe he regrets the promises he made me?”

“Antanasia, you are completely ridiculous!” I told myself angrily. “There is a good reason for this. There has to be.”

After a second of hesitation, I gave in to foolish beliefs and opened the lid of my coffin. Wrapping the shawl around my shoulders, I went downstairs to the kitchen and curled up in the loveseat. It was only after nearly an hour that I realised I had not lit any fire in the fireplace. The shawl, though bringing me some comfort, did not suffice to warm me up much more. Unfortunately, even the joyful and intense fire did not prevent me from shivering when the grandfather clock upstairs rang the twelve strokes of midnight.

I got up and started pacing the room. It was too late to Floo anyone; humans were asleep at this time of the night, most of them. An owl would have been more discreet, but then it would have taken until morning for me to receive a reply. I thought about various strategies to get more information, but finally came to the sad conclusion that I had no control over the situation and had to wait patiently until morning came.

I went upstairs to the drawing room and randomly picked a book on the shelves. I did succeed in reading the first few pages, but soon felt my mind drift away to all kinds of places and eventually gave in. It was around three in the morning when I began to seriously consider giving a little push on Mrs Black’s portrait, just to give myself something to do during my never-ending waiting.

“The portrait! Of course you stupid childe!” I exclaimed, rising to my feet.

I ran upstairs and stormed in my bedroom. Phineas Nigellus was gone, obviously, but I called for him. I must have tried all polite and impolite ways to make him come back in his portrait, but my efforts were made in vain. He remained far away from Grimmauld Place, in the comfort of Dumbledore’s office… where I precisely wanted my message to be heard. I fell on the chair next to the portrait and leaned my chin over my arms, on the top of the back.

“Ok, fine, there is just no way…” I moaned, for myself.

And like each time I find my mind tormented with worries, I buried myself in work. I did not have much work on my schedule as Charles’ last contract had mostly been fulfilled, but I completed the last two potions he requested. When the two liquids were in their respective simmering and filtering phases, I moved on to another intellectual challenge. It was the ideal one: it kept my mind busy enough not to panic and close enough to Remus to keep thinking of him. I retrieved the lotion I used on his lycanthropy cuts, intending to find a way to make it soothe beyond the cuts and reach the muscles underneath. Remus seemed to feel muscle pain in a particularly intense way after his attacks. I did enjoy giving him massages, but they did not take away all the suffering, unfortunately.

I considered various ingredients for some time, and then explored the Black family’s personal library. I found a few interesting books. They were old and dusty, but who was I to pretend that old things could not be of any use? I brought them back in the dinner area and wrote down a few formulas, trying to figure out what pain-control or muscle relaxant ingredients could be added to the lotion without threatening its stability. The table was beginning to fill with parchment pieces covered with scientific dead ends when I heard the grandfather clock again. It was seven in the morning. I went to the fireplace and picked up the Floo powder bag on the mantelpiece.

I was about to take a handful of powder and throw it in the fireplace when I realised that I had no idea of who was the best contact. I first thought of Dumbledore; he was the most likely person to know if Remus were in trouble. But then I thought it very inappropriate to disturb him that early. Minerva and I were not close enough to allow me to pop my head into her bedroom unannounced. Tonks was probably aware of Remus’ whereabouts, but I had no idea how to contact her. There was only one possibility left… I kneeled on the floor and bent forward.

“Hogwarts, Severus Snape’s quarters!” I articulated, throwing the powder in the fireplace.

I closed my eyes and felt everything whirl around me, but after a few seconds, I opened my eyes and saw nothing else than the stone wall in the back of the familiar fireplace. I tried something else.

“Hogwarts, Severus Snape’s office!” I exclaimed, throwing a second handful of powder.

This time, my nose picked out a different smell from that of the dining room even before I opened my eyes. I saw the black leather armchair I had seen the last time Severus had brought me to his office, and noticed that a considerably high pile of parchment rolls had been placed on the desk a bit further away. Right next to the pile, I saw a large number of small bottles containing potions in various shades of blue. Not a soul could be found in the room, however, so I called him.

“Severus? It is me… come here, please!” I said, softly. “Severus! Can you hear me? I need to talk to you!” I insisted, more loudly.

After a couple of minutes, I heard footsteps coming closer to the discreet door through which I had seen him disappear two mornings before. Severus stormed into the room, looking like I had forced him to painfully drag himself from his bed directly into his office. His hair was somewhat bushy on the left side, his beard was not shaven and his eyes were narrowed by the sleepiness that remained in him. He was wearing nothing more than a pair of black underpants and a black dressing gown that he was hurriedly throwing on his shoulders. It was still fully open and revealed his chest and legs. That is probably when I let my eyes wander from his pale but firm chest all the way down to the much lower part of his abdomen that I started to think that contacting him had not been my greatest idea. Or was it when he opened his mouth?

“What is it?” he asked, his silky baritone sounding a bit raucous.

“Severus… I am very sorry to disturb you…” I replied, in an apologetic tone. “Did I wake you up?”

“No, I was reading in my bed. Is there something wrong?”

“Yes, there is. Remus did not come back home,” I said, starting to feel ridiculous.

“He did not come back home,” he repeated, in a worrisomely even voice, sitting very slowly in his armchair. “And you thought it was a good idea to get me out of bed and inform me!”

“Well, I just thought--”

“What, that I would worry?” he snapped. “That I would care?”

“That you might know where he is…” I suggested, in a voice that became more and more quiet with each word.

“Who am I, his mother?” he added, cynically. “I absolutely do not care whether he is taking a nap in an Azkaban cell or in some hooker’s flat! If you ask me, both possibilities are highly plausible.”

“So Dumbledore did not receive any news from him?” I insisted, trying to stay calm.

“Obviously not. If something happened to him, I am sure that Dumbledore would let you know at once,” he sneered.

“If you say so… it is just that he was supposed to be back yesterday afternoon and there is no trace of him.”

“I cannot do anything for you, Antanasia. I will begin teaching in less than two hours; I certainly cannot go looking around for him,” he grumpily retorted.

“I understand… I am sorry I have disturbed you, Severus,” I said, feeling quite crestfallen. “I do not know what I was thinking…”

“Just go in your coffin, and have a good day’s sleep. There is no need to worry about him,” he suggested, in a calmer tone. “Do you want some Draught of Peace? Most of them are probably poisonous, but I might find a respectable one somewhere in the pile over there…” he added, pointing the desk with his thumb.

“Thank you, but that will not be necessary. I do not want to sleep too deeply, just in case.”

“As you wish,” he coldly replied, rising to his feet. “Have a nice day, Antanasia.”

“Have a nice day, too,” I said, before I removed my head from the fireplace.

I felt something heavy and cold fall in my stomach. And I felt stupid. Not only had Severus been completely unhelpful, he had actually stepped hard on the dark feelings I had inside my heart, only to pile up some more. A part of me totally agreed with him. It had been foolish of me to contact him and expect that he would know anything about Remus’ whereabouts. He had been sleeping all night, just like Dumbledore! How could he know anything? I admitted to myself, at least, that what I really wanted from him was the comfort of someone else’s presence. The shawl fell down one of my shoulders, reminding me of his gesture. It did not make me feel any better this time.

I did follow Severus’ advice, however. I went straight to my coffin, after making sure that my cauldron was protected with a fireproof Charm. It took me ages to fall asleep; my mind kept working endlessly, trying to find possible explanations for Remus’ absence. Severus’ suggestions in that domain broadened the possibilities in a way that did not please me at all, which made my mind work even harder. I tossed and turned again and again until my body won the fight over my mind and finally made me fall asleep.

When I woke up in the early evening, I did not remember having dreamed at all. Yet my cheeks were covered with tears. I hurriedly wiped them off and stepped out of my coffin. Wrapped in the shawl, I anxiously checked each and every room where he could be… but there was still no trace of Remus. I took a long shower, trying to relax and enjoy the feeling of hot water against the back of my neck and even managed to convince myself that it was better for me to be awake when he would pass through the door.

“That way,” I thought, “I will be able to slap him a couple of times for his absence and spend the rest of the night doing other kinds of torture…”

With these plans in mind, I got dressed and went right back to my work, in the kitchen. Charles’ potions were ready, so I poured them in a few sterilized bottles and cleaned the cauldron. That gave me the opportunity to test some compounds for Remus’ lotion and kept me busy for a few hours. Towards nine, however, my mind drifted back to more negative thoughts. I paced up and down the room in front of the fireplace for a while, and finally found the courage to dare contacting Dumbledore directly. I grabbed a handful of Floo powder and was about to pronounce the right words when it rang, horribly loudly, in my ears.

“No, no, Mrs Marechal, your husband is perfectly fine. Dumbledore would have received a report if something had happened,” said a woman’s voice I had buried deep in my memory.

“But it is not normal, I am telling you!” I heard myself replying. “My husband always manages to tell me when he will be delayed. I have been without news for twelve hours; this is very unlike him!”

“The fact that he cannot communicate with you does not automatically imply that he is in danger, Mrs Marechal,” explained the voice, patiently.

“But he was! He was being tortured to death! I felt something was wrong and you told me to stay at home! And I believed you!” I cried, with my own present voice this time.

Images started flashing before my eyes… our old fireplace, entirely made of stones, just like the one I had in front of me… the living room where I sat by the window, scrutinizing the night and even the day, as long as my condition would allow me to stay there without damaging my eyes… that horrible window! It had brought me the beloved sound of his steps countless times and stubbornly refused to let me hear them again! And the kitchen, messy with many Blood potion bottles, half drunk, abandoned on the counter… blood… the blood on his face… the blood on his hands… on his manly lips…

I dropped the Floo powder on the floor and swiftly walked away from the fireplace, panting and trembling. Cold sweat was covering my face, mixed with tears. I wiped most of it with the back of my hands, trying to breathe slower and calm myself down. The horrifying thought that Severus might have been wrong seized and tortured my brain. Dumbledore had not contacted me yet, true, but what if Remus had been hurt and nobody had found him? What if I was staying home when in fact he was somewhere needing help? I had to do something; I had to check for myself. I ran upstairs and grabbed my cloak in the hall closet. I was still buttoning it, walking quickly into the night when I stopped abruptly.

“It is different, this time, Antanasia,” I thought. “He was supposed to be replaced; if he was missing, the guard after him would have alerted someone of his absence! He is not on any secret mission, his whereabouts are known and he has to report to Tonks…”

I repeated these words over and over in my head, leaning against a Muggle street lamp in the street. Its coolness helped me calm down and think a bit more rationally. My place was not in Azkaban; I could not just go there and swoop down on the Order guard who was on shift that night. It might not even be Remus and I would be disturbing people again. Taking a deep breath, I forced myself to go back in the house and find something to do. Unfortunately, there was not much left for me to do with the potion trial. I had already gone through all the steps and it had to simmer for a few more hours. The sight of the book I had left next to the fireplace gave me an idea, however.

I went upstairs into Remus’ bedroom and opened his closet. There were not many clothes in there, but I examined his shirts, pullovers, trousers and jackets, in case I would find something that needed to be repaired. That too was a bad idea. As I thoughtfully caressed the fabrics with my hands, I started sobbing again; disturbing images came back to me, with even more intensity this time. Those memories were about one of the moments when I had let myself be the most destroyed by Arnaud’s death, after his burial. When I had had to go through his clothes and pack them… knowing that he would not be part of the trip that time. I remembered how I had first taken them, one by one, feeling their imprint on my fingertips against my will, which brought back many memories. It did just the same with Remus’ clothes… there was the grey pullover he wore when we had travelled to Scotland… and the trousers he had torn on a nasty bush in the Forbidden Forest last time we had been there… the shirt he wore last time he won against me in a chess game…

Seconds later, I grabbed all the clothes in front of me in one large embrace, abandoning myself to the memories and losing my mind in his smell. It was still very present in the fabrics, but I knew it would fade away with time, leaving me really alone. I kneeled on the floor with my face still buried into his clothes and moaned all the worries and pain that inhabited my heart at the moment.

Once most of it had been said, however, I felt a bit better and finally stopped crying. One by one, I put his clothes back on their hangers, examining them with a more critical eye this time. There was not much to repair; only a patch to add on one of his jackets’ elbows and a few buttons to sew here and there. I took these clothes and, on my way out, saw a lump of fabric that had been thrown on a chair. His “shreadable” clothes… I grabbed them, too.

I spent the following hours sewing in front of the fire, listening to some of his favourite records. At least that gave me the impression that he would come back sooner or later and would need those repairs to be done. I focused all my thoughts on that repetitive task, obsessively checking each and every stitch I made to make sure it was well concealed and would hold strong. The hours passed, one after the other, but I chose not to listen to that infernal clock upstairs. Similarly, I tried to ignore the unbearable noise his absence was making, everywhere in the house. I do not remember stopping for dinner and remained bent over my work, despite the fact that my neck and fingers started to feel stiff.

When the front door opened and closed, I felt my heart jump up and get stuck in my throat… before I realized that I had profoundly pierced one of my fingers with the needle. I slowly tossed the piece of clothing aside and got to my feet, sucking on my finger. I ran to the record player and turned it off, listening raptly to the sounds that were coming from the hall. Someone was hanging something in the hall closet, probably a cloak. A quick look at my watch told me that it was a quarter to three in the morning. My first urge was to run upstairs and confirm what my heart was telling me, but pride and anxiety made me walk back to the comforting warmth in front of the fireplace and wait. Shortly after, I heard the familiar loud and heavy footsteps going downstairs.

Remus entered the dining room, beaming, and walked energetically to me. I noticed that he was not using his cane anymore and seemed to be in good shape. If at first I felt marvellously relieved to see that he was not injured, cold anger soon replaced that relief. I could not figure out why, if he was so obviously well, he had not thought of sending me a note or any other form of warning that he was going to be late. The things I thought, during those few seconds before he spoke to me, are better not repeated here.

Remus stopped in front of me and smiled again. He was obviously very happy and excited to be back; it was spread all over his lovely face. My face, on the contrary, must have passed by various shades of white and red, and my eyes were shooting deadly sparkles. In his excitement, however, he did not see them that way.

“Hey! Hello there!” he said, mischievously. “I see that the waiting brought some more intensity into those lovely eyes of yours!”

WHAM!

My hand shot in the air and slapped him before he could even wipe the smile off his face. Fortunately for Remus, I spared him my usual slap, which normally came with nails as well. Nevertheless, he took a step back and looked at me in astonishment, putting a hand on his hurting cheek. I answered the question I saw in his eyes even before it came out of his mouth.

“Is that all you have to say,” I raucously moaned, feeling my eyes filling with tears, “after being gone for three nights instead of one, with me nearly dying of worry for you at home because I have no idea whatsoever of what could take you so long? Do you know all the things I imagined, having nothing else to do here other than wait for your return? Do you know how deeply what you just did hurt my feelings?”

“Antanasia, I don’t understand!” he said, his eyes widening in incomprehension, “I did not want you to worry, on the contrary, I--”

A popping sound came from the fireplace and Tonks’ head appeared among the flames. She looked at Remus, then looked at me and a wave of comprehension passed on her face. She scowled.

“Remus, you’re gonna kill me…”

“Oh no, don’t tell me--” he began, looking suddenly very upset.

“Yeah… it’s when Mundungus finally replaced you and you reported the change and all… I wasn’t sure that I’d delivered the message and, well… the note was in my other cloak pocket…”

“In a word, you forgot!” he completed, with a touch of reproach in his voice.

“I did. I’m sorry!” she said, with imploring eyes.

“Oh, Merlin, I cannot believe that… how could you…” he articulated, obviously trying to hide his frustration. “Well, why don’t you deliver it now? That way she’ll know I’m not a liar.”

“Er… ok, if that’s what you want,” she replied awkwardly, before turning to me. “Antanasia…. Yesterday evening, Remus wanted me to tell you that Mundungus didn’t show up to replace him. And because he did fewer guard shifts last month, he felt obliged to take Mundungus’ night shifts until he finally came back. He told you not to worry, that he was sleeping at Emmeline Vance’s place during the day and that he’d be back at the end of this night at the latest.”

“And?” prompted Remus, looking at me with a genuine expression of sorrow.

“That he’d be counting each and every hour until he’d come back home,” she added, grimacing again. “I’m sorry, guys! You must have wondered where the heck he was, huh?”

“I wondered if he was alive, most of all…” I murmured, stretching my lips into a forced smile.

“It’s ok, Tonks,” Remus said, in an affable voice. “Don’t punish yourself too hard on this one.”

“I owe you two a drink, take good note of that, okay?” she said, smiling apologetically.

“We will. Thank you for the message, Miss Tonks. Better later than never, as they say,” I added, trying to make her feel better.

“Ok. Good night guys!” she said, before disappearing into the flames.

Remus stood in front of me, his hands nervously hidden in his pockets. His eyes were probably burning as intensely as mine. As I looked at the mixed emotions of happiness and sorrow on his face, I felt my anger fade away in the blink of an eye. All those trying and painful hours of endless waiting vanished from my mind and the only thing that remained was the fact that he was there… that he was alive, safe, and had obviously missed me…

“I’m sorry it happened that way, I shouldn’t have given the message to Tonks… I don’t know what to say…” he said softly, shrugging his large shoulders.

“Then say nothing at all, but please don’t be quiet,” I murmured, grabbing his clothes and pulling him to me.

I hungrily covered his mouth with mine and heard him respond with a sharp intake of air through his nose, followed by a deep moan that vibrated against my lips. Breaking our kiss, Remus took his hands out of his pockets and grabbed my hips. He looked at me intensely, running his hands up and down my back, and I noticed how the flames were dancing beautifully in his eyes, along with a few sparkles that were not there seconds before.

This time, it is he who kissed me, as passionately as I had just kissed him. I felt him grab my lips between his, tickling me gently with his short moustache, while his caresses in on my back became more insistent. Thousands of shivers ran down my spine when I felt him extend his thumbs over the sides of my rib cage, teasing that wonderful area where skin usually begins to offer a much softer touch. Attracted by his electrifying caresses, I arched my back and offered my bosom to him, feeling the tip of my breasts press against his chest while he grabbed my sides and pushed his tongue past my lips.

Moaning softly, I tasted his saliva as our tongues met and lingered in each other’s mouths. This time I did not ask myself any questions; I just let my heart and body lead the dance and simply turned my mind off. Grabbing each side of his neck, I pressed myself even closer against him and, in a lustful sway of my hips, slid my thigh between his legs. When I finally found my goal and pressed my upper thigh against his crotch, I found a very promising hardness that made me run my nails down each side of his neck and throat, sending thrilling sensations through his whole body. He broke our kiss once more, only to let out a hoarse moan of anticipation. I giggled, slid my cheek along his and nibbled his earlobe.

“Well, well, well, look at that!” I purred in his ear. “It seems to me that most of the after-attack symptoms have diminished…”

“That particular one has been gone since the evening I left, unfortunately for me!” he said, grabbing one of my thighs.

“Unfortunately?”

“Yes, unfortunately! Can you imagine what it was like to stroll for hours in Azkaban corridors, surrounded by Dementors and being unable to chase away my hunger for you?”

“You should have asked them for help,” I teased, running my tongue up and down his ear. “I am sure they would have been glad to suck it all out of you!”

“Well… if you don’t mind me saying, I hoped they would not be the ones taking care of that…” he answered, massaging my thigh intensely.

“Oh, is that a request?” I giggled, running my nose playfully up and down his neck.

“Maybe… unless… isn’t it a part of the treatment you offered?”

I pulled myself away and looked at him with an offended expression on my face. Half smiling, half frowning, Remus was waiting for me to say something.

“Remus, I had not thought of that…” I answered, most seriously. “It is absolutely unethical for me to become intimate with one of my patients…”

“What? You cannot be serious!” he said, in disbelief.

“I am, on the contrary!” I replied, walking away to the dinner table to hide an urge to laugh. “What if this intimacy threatens the results we could obtain together?”

“I had not thought about that, Antanasia, but I am a bit surprised that you mention it, to be honest…” he answered, as I extinguished the fire under the cauldron containing my test lotion.

“I am just concerned, that is all…” I articulated, hiding my smile. “I hope you are not too disappointed…”

“Er… I am more surprised, right now…” he said uncertainly. “I… er…”

I looked at him out of the corner of my eye. It was quite a sight; the light coming from the fire traced the shadow of a completely puzzled man, obviously trying to figure out why the woman he held in his arms one minute before had suddenly left him standing there with such a splendid erection. I giggled softly, but he saw my shoulders wiggle up and down. I turned back and leaned against the table; he was already coming to me.

“I was just kidding, Remus!” I said, smiling and wrapping my arms around his shoulders again. “I have never considered you as a patient… and I never will.”

“Good,” he said mischievously, “because I didn’t intend to be an easy one anyway!”

Pressing his lips against mine, he grabbed my buttocks and brought me closer. I squeaked in surprise when, in one powerful move of his hips, he pushed me up and made me sit on the table, lifted my robes up to my thighs and slid his body between my open legs. This time, I embraced him with both my arms and legs and felt his hand hold and knead one of my breasts.

He slid his hands behind my neck, intertwining his fingers in my hair and kissing me even more deeply, and then moved to my upper back, where he started unbuttoning my robes, stopping occasionally to insert his fingers in the opening. He did not unbutton it all the way down, however, just enough to slide it past my shoulders, which kept both of my arms trapped and pressed tight against my sides. I tried to free myself, thinking that he wanted to expose my breasts, but he gently pushed me down to make me lie back on the table. I squeaked in surprise again, feeling the touch of the wasted pieces of parchment that were still spread all over the table. Bending forward, he brought his face close to mine and, after one more mischievous smile, turned to my left ear.

“You little teaser…” he hoarsely murmured, rubbing his crotch against my knickers.

“Does this still sound like teasing?” I panted, grabbing his arms above me.

“Don’t misinterpret me… I love being teased…” he said, kissing his way down my cheek and my jaw.

I tilted my head back and offered him my throat, encouraging him to pleasure me more with insistent strokes and pressure on his sleeves. When at last he passed from my jaw to the upper part of my neck, I gasped for air and grabbed both of his arms. The touch of his soft lips was heavenly against my skin, not to mention the occasional brush of his adorable moustache. He nibbled, nipped, sucked and kissed every centimetre of my throat, setting my whole body on fire, no less. His touch was delicate, never blunt, and his insistent little movements drove me mad with desire. Nothing of it came out of my mouth, though. It was so good that I did not want to miss even the smallest of his attentions; I am not sure I was even breathing.

By the time he went up and kissed my chin to pleasure me all over again, I was on the merge of tears and crushed his hips between my thighs, compressing his hardness against my damp knickers. He could have made me climax right there against his mouth, but I lowered my chin and kissed him instead, biting his lips in my eagerness. When I stopped to let him gasp some air, I saw in his eyes that he felt the extent of my arousal. He did not seem to drive any misplaced pride from it; what I saw there was indubitably tender complicity.

“Is that something you teach in those Defence Against the Dark Arts lessons?” I panted. “If I remember well, there was a section about my kind in the program…”

“There is a section about your kind indeed,” he giggled, “but the lessons are usually not that detailed…”

“So where did you learn to do that, Remus?” I purred, rubbing myself against his crotch in large circles. “You are amazing…”

“There are some books on the subject… I guess you could say that I am an autodidact in that domain.”

“Whoever had the brilliant idea to write about our sex life, bless his or her soul!” I exclaimed, making Remus laugh softly.

“I think I can free you, now,” he said, still smiling. “I want to see what is most adorably craving my attention right there.”

He placed both of his hands on my breasts, rubbing my erect nipples through the fabric of my robes, which made them push even more against it. Refusing to wait after him, I managed to remove my arms from my sleeves and put my hands over his. He pulled my robes all the way down to my waist, revealing my black lace bra. Getting as feverish and impatient as I was, he pulled the straps down, nibbling on each of my shoulders, and uncovered my breasts. They were beginning to crave his attention indeed.

The touch of his warm mouth, as it greedily sucked my right nipple, made me clutch his head and bury my fingers into his smooth hair. He gave a few insistent pushes between my legs, rendering me even more aware of the warmth he was spreading there, too. Leaning on my hands, I pushed myself back into a sitting position, keeping him in a tight embrace with my thighs. While he helped me remove my bra, I pulled his pullover up and passed it over his head. I unbuttoned his shirt, which seemed to take ages, and finally opened it with a victorious smile. His lycanthropy cuts had healed wonderfully well.

I pressed my open mouth on his chest, taking as much skin as I could and nudging my nose into his chest hair. It was rather thick, but as smooth and greying as his locks. I grazed his upper chest for a while until I found one of his nipples and playfully took it between my teeth. I heard him gasp and grip my head, half in appreciation, half in instinctive protection. I stretched my torso to its full height and looked at him in the eyes.

“Tell me the truth… this is your first time with someone of my kind, right?” I asked, caressing his chest soothingly.

“You guessed right,” he answered, running his fingers in my hair.

“And you are naturally worried about those teeth of mine, mmmh?”

“A bit… not that I don’t trust you, Antanasia, but…”

“But it stays in the back of your mind all the same,” I completed, pulling his face gently to mine. “Listen to me, gorgeous. I could not drink your blood even if I wanted to. You know why; our species do not mix very well on that level. But even if it were not the case, I would never, ever attempt to Kiss you in any way whatsoever without your explicit consent. Do you trust me on that?”

“I do,” he murmured, plunging his glance into mine.

“In a way, I guess we are both dangerous creatures… I am very aware that you could have crushed my throat with one hand, the night of the full moon…”

“And yet you’re here,” he said, rubbing his nose against mine.

“I have no intention of going anywhere…” I replied, sliding his shirt past his shoulders.

I kissed him again, while he got rid of his shirt and let it fall on the floor next to him. His warm fingers wrapped around my breasts, making me moan against his mouth. His hardness was pushing hard against the fabric of his trousers and began to throb in response to each of my sways. I got to my feet and crouched in front of him after a playful goodbye kiss.

In a few seconds, I unbuttoned his fly and freed his length that definitely looked painfully trapped in there. I helped him remove his trousers and underpants, keeping greedy eyes on the pulsing target I had in front of me and debating whether I would take him slow or reward him with an intense start.

“Well, life is too short, as humans say,” I uttered, under my breath.

“What did--” he articulated, before his words became nothing but a raucous moan.

Without a warning touch, I took all his length into my mouth and kept it deep inside. His hands were frozen on each side of my head; he was breathing fast and short, anticipating my next move. I rewarded his patience by taking him out as slowly as I could, sucking hard all along. It seemed to revive his hands, which started stroking my hair and temples delicately. I explored his member with my mouth, lips, tongue and fingers for a while, feeling my way through his urges by the pulse of his blood. I pumped him faster when I felt him getting eager for more and forced myself to stop right before he reached the edge. I enjoyed that little game greatly; Remus was somewhat expressive and encouraged my efforts with various moans and sighs that sounded more and more hoarse with his mounting pleasure.

At long last, when I stopped once more before he climaxed, he finally lost his last bits of patience and grabbed me firmly by the shoulders, lifting me again to my feet. He pushed my robes past my hips and they fell on the floor. My knickers joined them in the blink of an eye. Remus pressed me against him in a crushing embrace and our naked skin shook all over with intense shivers at each other’s touch. Sliding one hand between my stomach and his, he fumbled my locks for a few seconds before he continued his way and carefully slid two fingers between my labia. I was already very wet from his attentions and even more after pleasuring such a responsive member.

“I am not the only one who is full of anticipation, it seems…” he murmured against my lips, wetting his fingertips gently.

“Do you think I should keep hoping like that?” I cooed.

“I think…” he murmured, sliding a finger in, very slowly, “that you should indeed…” he concluded.

He started moving his one finger in and out, until he felt me ready to take a second one. As he inserted it, he swooped down on my throat again, resuming his enticing kisses, going as far as pinching my flesh with his teeth at one point. I was waving my hips madly over his hand, begging him to go deeper, faster, until he straightened and whispered into my ear, “I want you so much, Antanasia, I can’t wait any longer…”

“Take me, Remus… take me right now; I have taken care of everything down there…” I answered, grabbing his wonderfully firm buttocks and massaging them lustfully.

Without adding a word, he grabbed my thighs and made me sit on the table again. I lay back immediately, drawing him to me with my legs. His warm hands caressed my stomach, my breasts and kneaded my hips while he pressed his hardness against my eager flesh. He pushed it in slowly, but in one fervent thrust, gazing into my eyes until pleasure made him close his eyelids and open his mouth in one satisfied sigh. He kept caressing every inch of my exposed flesh with his slightly scabrous hands while he started an enticing rhythm.

At some point, he took my legs and leaned them against his chest, thrusting even deeper inside of me and kissing my ankles and calves. I looked at his handsome features, completely taken by ravishment and concentration. Taking my legs down again, I pushed myself up with my elbows to steal a few more kisses from his appealing mouth. After lingering over my breasts, pinching my nipples naughtily on the way, he put his hands back on my hips and thrust harder, making me lie down on the table again and tilt my head back. I slid one hand down my stomach and found my swollen nub, which was almost aching for a gentle touch. My fingers started massaging it, in rhythm with Remus’ member, and I was perfectly aware that a pair of two wonderful greyish eyes was watching raptly what I was doing. It aroused me even more.

My moans intensified and we were both soon panting with the mounting excitement in both our bodies and souls. I heard the poor table creak in disapprobation as Remus, in one long caress, slid one of his hands on my shoulder and pumped faster into me. His length fumbled sensitive areas in the depths of my flesh, making me move my fingers more and more frenetically over my hard clit. He extended his thumb and caressed my cheek tenderly, looking into my eyes intensely. I turned my head and, still keeping eye contact, sucked on his thumb, flickering my tongue all over it inside my mouth.

Remus’ grip tightened on my shoulder and hip, and so did my legs around his waist. A few more caresses and sucks made all my pleasure blossom into a powerful orgasm, clutching Remus’ hardness in quick and strong spasms. He clenched his teeth until I gave out my last scream and, in one long push, finally gave in to his own satisfaction. He closed his eyes and, frowning intensely, groaned his delight as he shot his seed inside of me.

He gently grabbed me by the wrists and pulled me towards him in a very tender embrace. I ran my fingers up and down his sweaty back, feeling the refreshing touch of his panting breath sliding against mine. He took my face between his hands and gave me one long, exhausted kiss.

“Are you coming with me?” he asked, as I removed a few locks of hair that stuck on his forehead.

“Absolutely… if you want me to,” I replied, covering his face with feathery kisses.

Leaving our clothes on the floor, we went upstairs and curled up in each other’s arms, surrounding ourselves with the intoxicating smell of our lovemaking. Remus and I kept looking at each other for a long time, caressing our sensitive skin, before sleep started to take over us. I was fighting it with my last resources when Remus whispered, caressing my cheek, “There is something I thought of telling you, but did not dare to before your lips met mine…”

“Tell me,” I said, smiling despite my sleepiness.

“While I was on the guard shifts, I produced a strength of Patronus I had not achieved in a long time… and you know what made me do this?”

“I am all ears…”

“Each time I was about to throw the spell, I thought about how there was somebody waiting for me at home. It is a thought that had only been wishful thinking, before…”

Even if his words were very intense and meaningful, they did not feel like too much, given the intimacy we had shared during the previous month and the way it had evolved. Deeply moved by his confidence, I took him in my arms and pressed him against my heart. I think neither of us was able to let go before we both fell asleep.

~*~

AUTHOR’S NOTE
I know that this part of the plot might not please everybody (e.g., those of you who are not fond of Remus the way I am). However, I just want you guys to keep in mind that the story was posted as an SS/OC novel for an obvious reason... I am most confident that the two next chapters will make you forgive my momentary detour through Remus\' arms! Thank you nevertheless for sticking with me all the same; it means a lot to me!!

I am still writing every day and chapter 13 is on the way! Just be patient; your encouragement is always precious!

I hope you are enjoying the story so far! I would really appreciate some reviews. It does not take much of your time and it tells me if you like where the story is going or not! It’s in your best interest, in a way! Writing 25-30 pages every week (over 40, this week) represents a lot of work; your comments are a valuable reward! :o)