Le Loup Rôde Silencieusement

His cold, blue eyes were always on Remus whenever he was near.

In the crowded gathering of meal times in the Great Hall, Lucius would sit, at the Slytherin table, with his back straight, his cutlery poised over his food, his angular face stony and calculating as he would watch Remus from across the other side of the Hall. The seventeen-year-old Slytherin would study how the first- year Gryffindor moved. He would study how the lighting cast odd shadows within the slashed indents of his scars across his face. He would watch how Remus would hunch over and push his food around the plate. He would watch how Remus would turn his head and timidly join conversation around him. He would watch how Remus would lift a scarred hand to his face and push back that same lock of sandy hair that was always flopping over his forehead.

His gaze was so intense, so piercing. The only time the seventh-year Slytherin would look away was when he would take up a meticulous, small spoonful of his perfectly cut and portioned food. But then he would retrain his gaze on Remus as he lifted the spoon or fork to his ruby lips and spear the food into his mouth.

Or in the library. Lucius would sit, again with his back perfectly straight, books placed neatly on the desk top, parchments with perfect handwriting scribed over it in front of him, his creamy white hand clutching his quill. His eyes would gaze at Remus with unfaltering intensity. He would watch how Remus would, again, hunch over. He would watch how the young boy would cradle his head in his hand as he scrawled over endless reams of parchment. He would watch how Remus would snap books shut with a sigh and slap them to the side. He would watch how Remus would shove himself back in the seat, stand, burrow his hands in his pockets and saunter over to the shelf for yet another tome.

He was always watching Remus. Always. Some days, he would notice that the boy had a fresh scab, a deep looking cut, a bruise across his boyish face. Or sometimes he would notice a certain stiffness about Remus’ gait. He would, at these times, see the dark circles under Remus’ hazel eyes, the sicklier than usual complexion, the weariness. And, because Lucius watched him so much, he would notice that, around the same time every month, Remus would disappear for a few days. Remus, during those days, was no where to be seen.

Lucius knew what Remus was. He had known for a long, long time. He had pieced together everything quickly. The scars, the stiff composure, the disappearance for several days… Lucius was not easy to fool. He watched everything that went on around him with a crisp, cold demeanour. He was calculating, harsh and stoic. Those icy eyes roamed everywhere, took everything in, never missed a thread of detail.

Why did he watch? Why did Lucius take so much time to sit in utter silence, as still as a statue, and stare? To those around him, it would look like an infatuation. And perhaps it was. Perhaps Lucius was infatuated with the twelve-going-on-thirteen year old Remus. In fact, Lucius was indeed infatuated. But he was not infatuated with Remus in a manner of romance; not in a manner of something innocent or even remotely platonic. No, Lucius was infatuated because of his burning desire to see those around him destroyed. He knew that Remus’ condition was a secret. Lucius knew that Remus and his flank of revolting Gryffindor friends wanted to keep such a hideous secret quiet. After all, who wanted to attend school with a lycan, a creature of the moon, a savage beast, a disgusting halfbreed? To let such a secret loose, to expose such a shame, to uncover something so dark and taboo would be devastating to young Remus. Not only would it be personally humiliating, but Lucius was also certain that Remus would, without doubt, face expulsion from Hogwarts. Lucius knew this only too well. To Lucius, Remus was like fresh meat for a prowling, hungry wolf. The irony of it was just delicious. Lucius was just waiting for his moment to close in and attack.



Lucius sat, like he always did, in silence at the Slytherin table at dinner. He sat perfectly straight, perfectly still, perfectly calm, just like a Malfoy was supposed to. In his right hand, he held a shiny fork which was poised over his food, while his other hand remained still on the table top next to his plate. The chattering of those around him was merely a humming background buzz to Lucius; he was not tuned into anything that was happening around him, except for Remus. He watched the Gryffindor with unblinking eyes, watched every single move that he made.

Today Remus, Lucius noticed, looked a little agitated, a little perplexed and restless. He seemed to be fidgeting and stirring more than usual. He watched the young boy reach across the table for various platters of food, though he only served very small dollops to his plate and ate without any enthusiasm. He was hunched over more than usual, as if secretive. He was withdrawn, quiet and looked incredibly nervous.

Lucius watched with a blank expression on his face. After watching for quite a while, Lucius lowered his platinum blond head to peer down at his plate and scooped up a small lump of fluffy white mashed potato with his fork.

He looked back up to see Remus’ hazel eyes peering at him. For a mere moment, they locked eyes. Remus was as still as Lucius was when he studied the boy, though his eyes were nowhere near as cold and fierce. There was uncertainty in his hazel eyes, perhaps fear. Lucius couldn’t quite place it. But as they held their gaze, Lucius’ stoic face began to twist into a soft, sadistic smile, and it was at this point that Remus looked away.

So, it was fear. How precious. How delightful. The look stayed upon Lucius’ face as Remus leaned to his left to whisper something to Sirius, of whom snapped his head in his direction with a look of mild surprise and then nodded before Remus stood up. Lucius watched closely. He watched Remus burrow his hands into his pockets and hunch his shoulders and then walk quickly and nervously to the Great Hall doors. He paused at the large doors to steal a glance at Lucius before he shoved the door open and slipped out of the Hall.

Lucius sat back and lowered his fork to his plate with a soft plink. He darted his eyes down one end of the Slytherin table and then the other before he excused himself in a soft mutter to no one in particular, pushed his seat back and rose from it slowly and calmly. He quietly rounded his seat, grasped the back of it and pushed it into the table before he turned on his heel and strode towards the giant wooden doors. He pushed them open and stepped out of the Hall. Lucius caught the swishing of robes as Remus rounded the corner, just out of Lucius’ sight and Lucius set of after him. His gait was smooth and graceful, like that of a swan. He held his head high as he marched, kept his arms by his side and swung them with idle ease as he squared his slender shoulders. He could hear Remus’ footfalls ahead of him and they grew closer and closer as Lucius silently closed in on him. Lucius walked with such stealth and composure that his feet made barely a whisper.

Remus was so close now; he was in within arm’s reach, and Lucius could see how awkwardly he was moving. Remus’ head lagged forward and his arms were held stiffly at his side, his hands buried deep in his pockets. Lucius extended his arm and spread his fingers, and then landed his hand with a heavy thump to Remus’ shoulder. Remus jumped and let out a strangled noise of surprise, and before he could react in his own defence, the Slytherin curled his fingers into Remus’ shoulder, gripped him tightly and then spun him around.

“Lupin,” Lucius greeted in a low, soft drawl.

Remus’ eyes widened and he tried to shrugged out of Lucius’ grip. “M-Malfoy,” Remus greeted back nervously in an unbroken and boyish voice.

Lucius took a step in and leered over Remus, touched his shoulder again and pushed him back slowly. “So good of us to bump into each other, hm?” the older boy quietly said. Remus said nothing; he only swallowed thickly and continued to back away. Lucius tightened his hold on Remus’ shoulder and pushed him again, pushed him until Remus was pressed against the wall. “I’ve been hoping to bump into you,” Lucius continued in the same soft, dangerous tone.

“W-What do you want, Malfoy?” Remus asked in a strained voice.

A poisonous smile curled on to Lucius’ lips. “I want us to have a little chat,” he replied silkily. He stepped into Remus’ space and leaned his face close to the Gryffindor’s. Remus arched his head away from Lucius, though kept his wide hazel eyes upon him. Lucius’ stare pierced into Remus’ eyes. He held the gaze for a long moment and then pulled away slightly and glanced down either side of the long, cold and dimly lit hall. “Not here,” he added softly and stepped back from Remus.

He curled his fingers into his Slytherin garbs and pulled it open as he reached his other hand into it and took hold of his wand. Lucius drew the wand out slowly and pointed it at Remus. He flicked it twice to the left to indicate Remus to move and then gestured towards the boys’ toilet a little further down the corridor. “Move,” he ordered and held the wand out threateningly.

Remus obliged and began to edge along the wall towards the toilet door, his eyes remained trained on the wand all the while, and Lucius casually sauntered after him. Only when he reached the door did Remus pull away from the wall, and he fumbled with the old doorknob nervously, gave a fretful glance at Lucius over his shoulder, and then pushed the door open with a loud creak. “In,” Lucius spoke curtly and shooed Remus in by stepping in towards him and jabbing the wand into his lower back. Remus quickly stepped over the threshold and scurried to the centre of the bathroom before he spun around and stared at Lucius in fear.

Lucius casually crossed the doorway, hooked his foot against the door and shoved it shut with a loud slam. “Well, well,” he began. He took a few languid steps from the door and twiddled his wand between his long slender fingers. He stared back at Remus with the same intense, icy look, curled his lips up into that same eerie smile and then turned on his heel to face the door. “Colloportus,” he muttered, flicked the wand and sealed the door closed with a loud click. Slowly, he faced back to Remus. “Alone at last,” Lucius mused.

He watched how Remus nervously wiped his palms over his thighs, how he quirked his brows, how he took subtle, nervous steps backwards. “Wh-What do you want?” the young Gryffindor asked again anxiously.

With his wand still poised, Lucius strolled towards Remus as if he had all the time in the world. Remus continued to back away, to which Lucius remarked in a scornful voice, “There is nowhere for you to go, Lupin.”

The young boy blanched and looked down as he frantically tugged at his robes to dig out his wand. “Don’t even think about it,” Lucius hissed and thrust the wand menacingly at Remus. The Gryffindor glanced up with a panicked look on his face, though his hands continued to grapple at his robes shakily in futile search of his wand. Lucius strode the rest of the way towards Remus, dug his wand hard into Remus’ collarbone and pushed him back. “I said,” Lucius spat, “don’t even think about it.”

Remus stumbled over his feet as he was walked backwards. Lucius, being that much older than him and much taller, towered over Remus intimidatingly. Remus\' hands abandoned their search for his wand as he cowered from the Slytherin and he uttered in a terrified voice, “Wh-What do you want?!”

Lucius glared viperously at Remus and shoved him hard against the wall. He pinned the young Gryffindor against it by the collarbone with the sharp point of his wand and leaned in towards him. “I’ve been watching you,” Lucius said in a low growl.

Remus gulped and replied in a pinched voice, “I know.”

“I know you know,” Lucius whispered venomously. “I could see it in your eyes at dinner.” He licked his lips, lifted his other hand and propped it on the wall next to Remus’ head. He then leaned in closer to Remus’ face. “I know what you are, Lupin.” He ground the wand in deeper, to which Remus let out a pained shriek and slapped his palms flat against the cold tiled wall behind him. “A halfbreed,” Lucius continued. “A filthy, disgusting halfbreed.”

Remus squeezed his eyes shut and turned his head away from Lucius. “How did you--?”

“I’m not stupid, halfbreed,” Lucius spat. He slowly pulled the wand away from Remus and lifted it to the Gryffindor’s face. Softly, he touched the tip of the wand against the deep, ugly scar that slashed across Remus’ face, and Lucius said in a hushed, malicious voice, “You disfigured freak.”

A soft sob came from Remus’ lips. “I’m not a freak,” he murmured weakly.

Lucius trailed the tip of the wand across the deeply gouged scar, leaned his body against Remus’ and moved his face in until his lips brushed against Remus’ ear. “Freak,” Lucius whispered.

Another sob, a louder sob, came from Remus and he slumped against the wall as if defeated. He curved his quivering lip in and bit on it as tears began to prickle his eyes. Lucius trailed the tip of the wand down Remus’ face, down his neck and then dropped his arm to his side. “I wonder…” Lucius began as he pulled away from Remus and looked upon the Gryffindor with a gloating sneer; “…what you would do if your little…secret…were to become…” He licked his lips and pulled them into a lecherous smirk; “…public?”

Remus opened his eyes and snapped his head in Lucius’ direction. There was sheer panic and fear on his young face; terror and shock. “You wouldn’t!” he cried out.

The grin widened. “Oh? Wouldn’t I?” Lucius slid his hand that was propped on the wall by Remus’ head down the smooth tile slowly until it was by the Gryffindor’s waist. He then pulled his hand away and brushed his fingers over Remus’ garbs. “Maybe I wouldn’t,” he added in a quiet and contemplative voice. His fingers twisted into the thick material of Remus’ robes and he bunched up a clump of it into his fist and tugged Remus to him. “Or, maybe, I would.”

“Please,” Remus begged. “Please… Please, don’t… Don’t, please!” A forlorn tear trickled from his left eye, trailed down his cheek and slipped into the crevice of his scar.

Lucius stared at Remus icily and lifted the wand back up to the Gryffindor’s face. He touched the tip of it to the tear in his scar. “I would be willing to make a deal with you, halfbreed.” He slowly tugged again at the garbs in his fist and pressed his hips against Remus’. “I could keep your filthy, shameful secret to myself.” Another tear slid down Remus’ face and Lucius moved his wand to catch it in mid rivulet. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you, Lupin?”

Remus nodded quickly and let out another sob. “Yes… Please. Please, Malfoy…”

Lucius smiled and let go of the garb in his hand. He took a step back, pulled the wand from Remus’ face and trained it at him. “Well, now it’s your part of the deal.” He ran his tongue across his bottom lip and then ordered in a low voice, “Strip.”

The Gryffindor took in a sharp breath and stared at Lucius uncertainly. “Strip…?’ he repeated.

“Did I stutter?” the Slytherin drawled. He waved his wand down the length of Remus’ body and then back up and trained it at his face. “I…said…strip.”

Remus gulped and tentatively moved his hands from the wall to the front of his robes. His young, scarred hands curled into the partings of it and he shakily began to tug the robe from him. Lucius kept his cold eyes peeled on Remus as the boy stepped from the wall and shrugged the garb from his thin, hunched shoulders. Lucius cast his eyes down and followed the robe as it fell from Remus and landed with a whispered rustle to the tile floor. “Good,” Lucius spoke and looked back up at Remus. He waved his wand and cocked his brow. “Keep going.”

Remus nodded nervously and moved his trembling hands to the hem of his jumper. He gripped it and tugged the woollen clothing from him. Lucius darted his eyes down again to watch it land with a soft rumple atop of the robes and then looked back up at Remus once more. Remus then moved his hands to his collar and fumbled nervously with the pearlescent buttons. He followed down the column of buttons as he undid each of them until his shirt fell open. He looked away from Lucius as he pulled the cotton shirt from himself and dropped it next to the jumper and robe.

Lucius arched his brow and surveyed the mottled, scarred expanse of Remus’ boyish chest. There were haphazard lines slashed across it in random stripes, some deeper than others, some longer than others. He was so slight compared to Lucius; while Lucius was clearly a defined young man, Remus was merely a boy that had only just entered puberty. Another vindictive smile curled on to the Slytherin\'s lips and the gestured at Remus’ trousers with his wand without a word.

Remus looked at Lucius in horror. “But—“

“Do it,” he hissed.

Remus looked down and two more tears fell from his eyes. Lucius watched the Gryffindor dash a scarred hand to his face and smear the tears away with a child-like sniff. Silently, Remus then toed his shoes off, reached down and pulled both socks from his feet and then stood up and undid the belt around his waist. He popped open the buttons and the fly, parted the plackets of his pants and gingerly pushed them down to his ankles. Lucius could see more scars that weaved and entwined down the length of both Remus’ thin legs.

“And…” Lucius waved his wand at Remus’ underwear with a malevolent grin on his face.

Remus parted his lips to protest and then thought better of it when Lucius jabbed the wand threateningly at him. He silently hooked his thumbs into the elastic waistband and pushed the underwear from his hips. They slid to his ankles, and Remus very cautiously stepped out of the rumpled pants and underwear and on to the cold, tiled floor.

Lucius let his icy blue eyes travel over the breadth of Remus’ naked form. He took in each and every scar that he could see, each and every mark. Lucius was so hard. His prick was straining in his trousers and his heart beat had picked up in pace. “Look at you,” Lucius whispered and took a step towards Remus. He moved the tip of the wand to a deep scar that was carved across the Gryffindor’s chest and traced the length of it. “What shame you must feel every time you look in the mirror. Hm?” he uttered spitefully. “You fetid, revolting freak.”

The young Gryffindor kept his head bowed and more tears fell from his eyes. “I’m not a freak…” he whispered.

Lucius leaned in and pressed his cheek against Remus’. “Freak,” Lucius asserted nastily into his ear.

He withdrew the wand from Remus’ chest and snatched Remus’ arm with his other hand. In a swift motion, he stepped back and effortlessly spun Remus around. He let go of Remus’ arm and placed his hand on the middle of his back. With a sharp shove, he pushed him against the wall and stepped back in to press his body against the naked Gryffindor. Remus let out a soft shriek as the coldness of the wall touched his chest, which sent a ripple of goose bumps over his body. Lucius loomed over the small boy as leaned against him. His taller and broader frame completely shrouded Remus against the tiled wall.

Lucius licked his lips and leaned his face in so that his lips were, once again, pressed against Remus’ ear. “This is the deal, halfbreed,” Lucius whispered. His hand moved to Remus’ waist and he curled his fingers into his soft flesh. He pressed his erection against Remus’ arse. “You will be my bitch,” he whispered, “and I will keep your disgusting secret to myself.”

Remus let out a shriek and arched his back. “No!” he cried out and attempted to struggle from the Slytherin.

Lucius let his hand go from Remus’ waist and coiled his arm around his middle quickly. He yanked the boy to him and pressed his erection harder into his buttocks. “Yes. Or else I will see to it that everyone knows about your…condition.”

Remus sobbed and pressed his forehead against the cold wall. He knew he had no choice: it was either this, or extreme ostracism. He would face expulsion. He would betray Dumbledore’s trust in him. His friends’ complicity of being Animagus’ for Remus’ sake would be revealed.

The silence from Remus told Lucius that he had won. He smiled and purred, “Good, Lupin. You’re a fast learner.” He pulled his arm away from Remus’ middle and stepped back just enough so that he could access the front of his trousers. He peered down at the expanse of scarred flesh on Remus’ small, boyish back as he unthreaded the belt and then nimbly plucked the button open on his trousers. Once he had pulled the zip down, he slowly pushed his trousers from his hips and let them fall in a heap around his ankles.

“Look at these revolting scars,” he said softly as he pushed his underwear from his hips and freed his turgid prick. “How do you live with yourself, knowing that you are something so fucking disgusting, hm?”

Remus stayed perfectly still and cried quietly against the tiled wall. He moved his hands up and placed them on the cold surface on either side of his head and muttered weakly, “Please… Stop. Stop saying those things, Malfoy, please.”

“Or what?” Lucius replied plainly. He moved his wand to between Remus’ buttocks and jabbed the end in harshly, to which Remus jumped and quailed in shock. In a soft voice, Lucius incanted a stretching hex and Remus let out another cry, this one of pain, as his entrance was pried apart brutally with what felt like invisible fingers. “Or what, hm?” Lucius asked scathingly. He spat a lubrication hex to coat the inside of Remus’ cavity and then speared his wand into his robes. Lucius coiled his arm around Remus’ bare middle again and pulled the boy to him with a sharp tug. “Or what?”

“Please, stop!” Remus cried out.

He slid his hand over the expanse of Remus’ stomach and slowly trekked it down to his groin. He tickled his fingers within the fine bush of hair before he met Remus’ flaccid prick and coiled his hand around it. It felt so small in his hand; so small compared to his. “Why would I want to do that?” he asked.

Remus gasped and turned his head to press his cheek against the wall. “Please…stop…” He squeezed his eyes shut and tried in vain to stop his prick from reacting to the sensation. “Please…”

He lazily began to thrum his hand up and down Remus’ cock. Lucius ignored Remus and worked his hand up and down the boy’s length in languid strokes and, within seconds, the Gryffindor’s cock began to harden within Lucius’ fingers. A smirk played over Lucius’ lips and he tightened his hand around the young boy’s length and stroked it more firmly. “Good boy,” Lucius crooned mockingly. “Good little halfbreed.”

Remus groaned and clawed at the wall. He fought with all his might to stop himself from thrusting his hips against the Slytherin’s hand. He tensed his buttocks and stiffened his legs to stop himself from rocking forward, but it felt so good. It felt so nice, so incredibly arousing. “Please…stop…” Remus said again in a weak voice.

Lucius stooped over and leaned his face in towards Remus and pressed his lips to his ear. “No,” he whispered. He grasped his own prick with his other hand and smeared the leak of precum with his thumb over the purpled head. He shifted his hips forward and angled his prick against Remus’ stretched entrance and then nudged the tip of it against Remus.

Remus let out a loud, shocked gasp and lost the will to resist. He thrust his slender hips forward and forced his prick hard into Lucius’ stroking hand and let out a loud moan. He lolled his head against the wall and pressed his forehead to the cold tile again as he gave in. “Please…stop…” he sobbed whilst he rocked his hips forward and moved his prick in rhythm with Lucius’ hand.

Lucius began to work himself into Remus in slow strokes. He moved him time with Remus’ rocking hips and pushed himself in bit by slow bit, while his hand continued to plunge up and down Remus’ cock. Remus gasped and panted as he was breached. Lucius, being that much older that him, was much bigger, much more developed. The width of his prick stretched Remus\' small cavity fiercely, to the point where Remus thought he was going to split open. He arched his back and clawed more at the wall as the thick organ invaded him. Lucius groaned at the feel of how tight Remus was around his cock, how firm the young boy\'s walls gripped him. He could feel Remus’ cavity spasm and undulate in protest against the invasion, which incited Lucius to thrust up further and deeper. He gripped Remus’ cock tighter and thrummed it harder as he fully sheathed himself within Remus and touched the bulbous tip of his prostate.

Remus cried out in pleasure, pain and absolute fear and bucked his hips forward. His cock throbbed and tightened in Lucius’ hand the moment that sensitive spot was touched and he hunched his back over and whimpered against the wall. Lucius gritted his teeth as he angled himself in deeper and peered down at the scarred flesh over Remus’ back. “Good little halfbreed,” he breathed as he rammed up into Remus and hit that spot again. Remus cried out and shuddered violently. “You scarred…fucking…freak!” Lucius bellowed. He could feel his balls riding up, his stomach churning with impending release and he grunted as he slammed into the Gryffindor.

Remus scrammed and scratched at the wall as he rocked his hips with Lucius. Their sweaty thighs slapped loudly together with each thrust and he gasped loudly, balled his fists and slammed them on the tile wall as he felt his cock seize up. One final tug from Lucius’ hand and one more thrust deep into him, and Remus suddenly hitched his breath and let out a high pitched shriek as his cock spewed out stripes of white, milky come over his stomach, over Lucius’ hand and over the wall in front of him.

Lucius abruptly let go of Remus’ spent prick and wrapped his arm around the boy’s lithe, cum-covered middle. He yanked Remus to him hard as he thrust up into him powerfully. Sweat trickled down his temples and his platinum blonde hair matted to his forehead. He felt his cock tighten and his breath catch in his throat, and with a languid roll of his hips, he came deep inside Remus. He cursed loudly as he coated the Gryffindor’s cavity in waves of come and clawed viciously at Remus’ stomach. Remus sobbed and cried out as Lucius plunged the last of his release into him.

The moment his orgasm ended, Lucius abruptly pulled out of Remus and stepped back in a shuffle with his trousers still rucked down around his ankles. He raised his clean hand to his head and clawed his hair back from his face while he panted heavily. He took a moment to travel his eyes down the length of Remus’small hunched frame against the wall before he reached into his robes and drew out his wand once more. He turned the wand on himself and muttered, “Scourgify,” to clean away the come and sweat and then lowered the wand to his side. “Stand away from the wall, halfbreed,” Lucius ordered crisply.

Remus very slowly pushed himself away and shuffled his feet as he faced Lucius. Sweat filmed over his face in a glistening sheen, which accentuated his deeply gouged scars. “Look at me, you filth,” Lucius spat and held the wand out at Remus. Slowly, Remus cast his tear-filled eyes up from the where they were looking at the floor and he peered at Lucius with a look of utmost shame.

“Do we have a deal?” Lucius asked softly. “Hm? I think we do. You seemed to like that,” he sneered.

Remus looked back down at his feet. “We have a deal,” he whispered.

“Good,” the Slytherin spoke. He crouched down, grasped the waistband of both his underwear and his pants and stood up again as he pulled the clothing over his legs and hips. With his hand still clasped around the shaft of his wand, he did up his button, his fly and his belt and then held the wand back out at Remus. “One word of this, Lupin, and I will make sure that everyone will know why you have those revolting, disfiguring scars all over your filthy halfbreed face. Am I clear?”

Remus nodded miserably and raised his hand to his face to wipe away another tear. Lucius merely gloated at him, adjusted his robes and then said plainly, “I’m off to bed. I will see you in the morning.” He lowered his wand and took a step in towards Remus, leaned his face in and pressed his lips to the Gryffindor’s ear. “I will be watching you, you scarred freak.” At that, he swiftly stepped back, spun on his heel and strode towards the door. He flicked his wand, ended the sealing hex and, without looking back, yanked the door open and strode out into the cold, dark corridor.