Jaded

JADED

For Summery, warnings, spoilers and disclaimers see chapter one.

A/N: As my darling Kat said, this chapter is sort of a drabble, it actually came to me in the shower and I just had to write it down. Hope you like it.

As always, my thanks go to my lovely betas- Dragon and Kat.
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Chapter Twenty-Nine: I’ve said it once, and I’ll say it again, no more fucking ABBA!
(There’s no connection between the title and the chapter whatsoever, I just watched ‘Priscilla’ the other day and well… you know me…)

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Just as Harry had predicted, the next couple of days were practically unbearable. Seeing Remus in class was bad enough, but when you added the fact that now Harry knew the wolf was his and it was only a formality that was keeping them apart, it nearly drove him mad. Not only that, but also the fact that he managed to bring Remus to completion simply with his words was even now bringing a smile to Harry's face. More than a smile in fact.

Harry rubbed his forehead in frustration, damn. He was sitting in History of Magic class, and all he could think of was Remus panting in his ear while his hand was rubbing up and down Harry's shaft. He tried with all his might to listen to Professor Binns, but seven years of learning how to tune out the ghost was not easy to undue.

"Mate, what's wrong?" Harry lifted his head, looking at the bleary-eyed Ron,

"What?" He asked defensively,

"You've been fidgeting so much you woke me up!" Ron complained loudly and yawned widely; upset he's been woken from his lovely nap by Harry's insistent tapping that was rocking the whole bloody desk- a desk that was made for four people!

Ron was quite pleased to see that Harry was over his funk. After all, how long can you be moping over a weekend with Malfoy? But this new distracted Harry was not much better, walking around with an absent-minded smile and a tendency to rock the tables.

"Sorry, Ron…" Harry blushed a little when Hermione flushed him a knowing grin. He hasn’t exactly told Hermione what happened that night with Remus, but anyone who knew of his infatuation could see that something good happened to Harry. Personally Hermione was very happy, more so when she realized that Harry was suffering from a major case of Unresolved Sexual Tension which could only mean one thing- Professor Lupin was waiting until the day he would no longer be officially Professor Lupin to Harry. Too bad Harry was a teenaged boy and could hardly control his urges on any given day.

Remus watched his class with tired eyes, completely uninterested in what he was supposed to teach them. How on earth was he expected to be able to concentrate on lessons when all he could think of was Harry? Harry whose big green eyes, so alike Lily's in shape and colour were, were so full of innocence and devotion and love for Remus. Harry, whose body was pure poetry, all taught and hard from Quidditch yet at the same time soft and supple under Remus’ hands. Harry who was so quick to love and so fierce in his loving… Remus groaned and rubbed his forehead, here we go again… He would have to come up with something else to think about other than Harry because this was going to end bad for both of them if he didn’t.

A part of Remus was freaking out still about what he was feeling, because Harry was not Jaime, he was still the little baby he held in his arms and cooed over so many years ago, the laughing toddler who called him 'Oony' before things went all pear-shaped for them all. But the more he looked at Harry, the more he saw the boy move and talk and laugh and smile with his friends the more he saw his missing Jaime.

He missed his friends; he missed being able to laugh and play pranks with Sirius and James, missed Lily's sharp tongue and mind. He missed being part of something, a group, he missed being a marauder. Rising havoc in Hogwarts was no fun alone. And now he got a piece of it back, the most delectable piece, which was even better in Remus' opinion.

Remus sighed and dismissed his class with a wave of his hand. He had about 15 minutes before his next class would begin, his Gryffindor-Hufflepuff seventh year, the class he both dreaded and anticipated. If Remus was a weaker man he'd run to his room and drink himself silly just so that he could handle an entire period with Harry sitting in front of him, but he knew better than to turn to the booze for help. Perhaps it was a masochistic part of him but Remus wanted to be sober, to take in everything the boy had to offer, even if it was only from afar.

Harry walked into the classroom, feeling rather dejected and still a tad embarrassed at waking Ron up during History of Magic. He was feeling rather uneasy around Ron these days, lying to his best mate was something Harry never did before (even if Ron thought so in the past) and now, not only did he not tell Ron of such a significant event in his life as going back in time, he didn’t tell him he was going to pursue his affair with none other than a teacher. But Harry suspected that what would tip Ron over was not that fact that he was in love with a man twenty years his senior but the fact that Draco Malfoy of all people knew before he did. When Harry first returned he toyed with the idea of telling Ron that he and Draco were friends, but when Ron kept going on and on about the unfairness of Dumbledore's punishment and the simpering looks he kept giving Harry for having to endure Malfoy Harry decided against telling him. For now.

He walked into the classroom, dragging his feet and heading towards the back, Hermione and Ron trailing behind him. Harry slumped himself in his seat, not at all looking forward to another hour of staring at Remus. It was hard to say which was better, before he knew he won Remus or after.


Remus had a little bet going on with himself as to how long he would be able to last before he looked at Harry. He lost. As soon as he re-entered his class his eyes were drawn to the back seat. Gods, Harry looked so good, slumped in his chair as if he didn’t have a care in the world, his black fringe flopping in his eyes.

Remus did a colossal effort to stop staring and start his class, trying to use his blackboard as much as possible, at least with his back turned it was easier to pretend he was not staring at Harry. When he turned around again he saw Harry narrowing his eyes and a flash of wickedness crossing them. Remus gulped slightly, scared of what was to come.

He watched with trepidation as Harry leaned forward and whispered something to Lavender, who was sitting in the row before him. The brunette smiled and handed Harry one of her shocking-pink ostrich-plume quills. Remus bit his lip and tried to look at the other way but that wriggling pink plume was just too distracting. His brain was working on auto-pilot, reciting the words but barely listening to himself.

His eyes followed the path the feather’s tip made over the side of Harry’s face, dragging slowly down towards the chin. Harry closed his eyes slowly, flourishing the feather over his nose and mouth and Remus gulped loudly and felt his breath quickening until it caught in his throat and turned into an embarrassed cough when he tried to hold back his laughter as Harry nearly gagged on the feather. Remus turned back to the board to hide his smile and try to compose himself. He was going to kill Harry for doing this to him.

Harry spluttered and tried to rid of the excess feather in his mouth, gods that tasted vile! He gave Hermione an apologetic half grin at her disapproving glare and rested his chin on his palm with a pout. How the hell was he suppose to seduce Remus if the stupid feather kept tickling his nose and getting into him mouth? He knew Remus would be most upset by this, but Harry had to amuse himself somehow. When the feather seduction failed Harry moved to his old technique, hoping that this time Remus would pick on his subtle signs.


When Remus turned back to the class he was mightily glad the horrid feather was gone, because it was just a little too much for him to watch Harry’s complexion clash horribly with the vivid pink. And the colour was so strong it kept drawing Remus’ eye to it, even if it was used for actual writing. Right now Harry was doing something strange with his eyes. Remus decided that was suppose to be coy and sweet, the way he fluttered his lashes, but it only made Remus want to chuckle because poor Harry looked like he was suffering from dry eyes. Remus allowed himself a small smile, hoping no one would notice his soft expression. At least now that Harry wasn’t flaunting that feather it was easier for Remus to pretend he wasn’t looking at the boy.

“Can anyone tell me why that is?” Remus watched as a fair few hands shot up in the air, and nodded at Hermione, and immediately regretted that, since looking at her made the risk of eye slippage towards Harry greater, and he could barely concentrate on the answer to his own question. Remus gave a mental sigh; questions were obviously not the way to go here. Ten more minutes passed in that manner, while Remus did not ask any questions and therefore had to fill the silence himself and thus talked himself nearly hoarse. He nearly wept in relief when he heard the bell ringing for the end of class.

“Homework is on the board,” He said, waving his wand and the words appeared on the board behind him, “Mr. Potter, please approach my desk.” He said heavily and sat down, completely drained. The class scrambled around him to get their things together and leave. Harry remained seated until the door closed behind the back of Hermione who was the last to leave, not before she shot him yet another look that promised a very long lecture as soon as she caught Harry on his own. He gracefully rose from his seat, slinging his bag over his shoulder and approached Remus’ desk with the most innocent expression he could plaster on.

“You wished to talk with me, sir?” He asked, his voice a perfect tone of respect for his teacher while his eyes were glowing with desire. Remus crossed his arms over his chest, doing his best not to get sucked into Harry little game, because he knew that if he let himself be drawn in, he would not be able to pull out with just a hand-job.

“You have got to stop doing this!” Harry looked puzzled and hurt,

“But sir, I wasn’t doing anything…” Remus rose from his seat, trying to hide his amusement at Harry’s cheeky attitude, perhaps he should have waited with his consent to take this relationship to a higher level. But then again, watching Harry’s dejected form was having the same effect on Remus’ as far as concentration went.

“Don’t give me this cheek, young man,” He waved his finger at Harry’s direction, trying to ignore the wide and satisfied smile that was spreading on the youth’s face. He walked to the other side of the desk and leaned against it, “You know damn well what you did!”

“Then I guess you’re just going to have to… punish me, sir…” Harry’s voice was dropped to a soft purr and Remus’ eyes widened; damn this boy was going to be the death of him!

“That I certainly would have to.” He agreed with a grin. Harry’s eyes lit up like a pair of bright green Christmas trees and Remus rolled his own, don’t encourage the boy, he berated himself.

“So, are you going to give me a detention?” Harry asked hopefully, knowing full well that Remus wanted to give him a ‘detention’ just as much as he wanted to receive one.

“Maybe.”

“Really?” Remus gave his young lover a reprimanding look,

“NO! I’m not going to encourage your perverted fantasies!” Harry looked disappointed and disbelieving, and despite himself a little impressed, because he knew that had the tables been turned he would never have been able to hold back.

“I thought you liked my perverted fantasies.” He pouted,

“What ever gave you that idea?” Harry smiled predatorily, approaching his teacher and poked him lightly on the chest, running his finger down Remus’ torso,

“Oh, I don’t know, must be that rock-hard erection of yours, just begging for my touch…” Remus gulped and caught Harry’s finger just as it reached to his waist, bringing it to his mouth and giving it a playful bite,

“You’re a cruel, cruel man, Mr. Potter.” Remus said sadly and Harry grinned, “Now off with you, cheeky little brat.” Harry sighed and walked to the door, knowing not to push Remus too far. He barely made a step though when a hand was laid on his arm and spun him around. Harry looked into the golden eyes of his lover and Remus smiled softly, his internal battle already lost as he captured Harry’s lips in a kiss. It wasn’t a desperate, heated kiss that would leave then both breathless; it was the kind of kiss that meant they were right where they should be.

The kiss ended all too soon to Harry’s liking when the door cracked open and Remus jumped back hurriedly, his hands still cupping Harry’s face. Remus cleared his throat and took a deep breath, trying to smile,

“I think the speck of dust is gone now, Mr. Potter.” He said as he released Harry slowly. Harry blinked, completely disoriented, and then smiled shakily,

“I think so too, thank you sir…”

“That’s quite alright,” Remus flashed him a small smile before he lifted his head to see who was at the door, “Miss Graves, how may I help you?” Lutetia Graves, a sixth year Ravenclaw looked between the two with a suspicious look before she smiled softly and addressed Remus, completely ignoring Harry,

“There’s was something I didn’t understand in class today, and I was wondering if you could explain it to me… privately.” Harry wanted to gag, who the hell does the little tart think she is? And why, in the name of all that was Holy, could this girl pull off the eyelash batting so effortlessly while he looked like a complete loon doing it? This wasn’t fair.

“Yes, of course,” Remus said distractedly, wanting nothing more than for the girl to leave him and Harry alone, “Why don’t you come back this evening after dinner?”

“Thank you sir.” She squealed happily and bounded out of the room. Harry couldn’t help himself and stuck his tongue out at her back.

“She wants you.” He said sullenly, and Remus looked at the closed door, surprised,

“What? What are you on about, Harry?”

“She wants you. I bet she’s lying in her bed at night dreaming of your hands running all over the soft curves of her girly body, spreading her legs wide and plunging yourself into her moist ‘flower of love’…”

“Argh, stop it! You’re making me nauseous!” Remus cried clamping his hands over his ears dramatically and Harry smiled,

“Yeah, me too…” He confessed, rubbing his tummy distractedly,

“Gods, where on earth did you get that sizzling cesspool mouth of yours from? I bet Lily wouldn’t have approved of such language.” Harry raised a sceptical eyebrow and Remus shrugged, “Yeah, well, James would never put up with it for sure!”

“What can I say? You inspire me.” Harry glided closer to his wolf again. He placed his hands on the wolf’s torso, intending to carry on from the same point he was in before the little slag interrupted but Remus caught his hands and held them away from his body,

“Funny,” He drawled dryly, “Now go to dinner before I would really be forced to punish you for that dirty little mouth of yours.” Harry shook himself free and stuck his hands in his pockets,

“Promises, promises,” He said with a bored tone, “Just be sure to tell that little tart that you’re mine!” Remus leaned against his desk again, looking very pleased with himself,

“Oh, I am, am I?”

“Bought, sold and owned baby!” Harry said happily and Remus gave him a queer look,

“That doesn’t even make sense!” He cried, and shook his head in amusement. “Just go, I’ll see you later.”

“Would you be dreaming of me tonight?” Harry asked seductively, and Remus looked at him with fear mixed with desire,

“If I say yes, will it get you starting with the dirty talk again?”

“Probably.”

“Then I’m not going to answer.” Remus said firmly, “Now, go before I will give you a detention… with Snape.” Harry stuck his tongue out at Remus, before he turned and left the classroom, leaving Remus alone to slump back in his chair and rub his face, Merlin save me from smart-arse sexy boys…
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A/N: Lutetia was the Gallo-Roman name of Paris (Capital of France, not the blonde bimbo…)

I just wanted to say, that I read each and every review that you’re writing me. The reason I don’t answer them is because I feel silly writing ‘Thank you’ all the time, but I love them so very much so please don’t stop sending them.