Have You Ever Wanted Someone So Bad?

Bill Weasley took a look around at the warm and inviting presence that filled his parents’ kitchen at the Burrow. They were all there of course, the entire Weasley family, save for Percy, most of the members of the Order, and those who were like family, such as Harry, Hermione and the soon to be newest member of the family, Fleur. There was a buzz to the room, a certain excitement that he had not felt since the death of Dumbledore and it was downright intoxicating. All had gathered in their honor for a traditional dinner this evening, the Friday night before he and Fleur were to be wed. The night had gone well, and Bill found he was overcome with emotion on more than one occasion, even to the point of fighting back some hard-earned tears. Just a short time ago, all of this had almost slipped through his hands. He had been bitten by Fenrir Greyback during the battle at Hogwarts the night Dumbledore was murdered. His was not a normal werewolf bite though, as Fenrir had not been transformed at the time of the assault, however, Bill now bore a striking resemblance to a wolf most of the time, save for the application of the few more-lasting charms conjured by his mother, Molly, when she was not fussing on about the wedding.

Yet through all this, he had at his side his beautiful bride to be, Fleur. Never did she falter, never did she stray. If anything, she had wanted even more to marry Bill, to take care of him, he thought, though the reason why did not truly concern him so long as she was there. He let his gaze linger upon another at the table who had helped to make this day possible, a man who had helped him in ways no other person could. That man was Remus Lupin, member of the Order of the Phoenix, former Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, and, once a month at the full moon, a full-on werewolf. Remus had been bitten as a young boy by the same monster that had gotten to Bill, but Remus’ was the complete curse of the wolf-man. Bill thought that one would never know it by just looking at the man, or even by befriending him. He was gentle, soft spoken and for the most part, a kindly man, not someone you could easily imagine as a monster.

Bill winced at the sound of his mother’s prodding question into Remus’ personal life, made worse by the fact that it seemed suddenly, all eyes were upon Remus, waiting for his answer.

"Remus dear, was Tonks not able to make it tonight?" Molly asked in her usual sweet demeanor.

"No, Molly. I am afraid she was not able to get away this evening, though she sends her best regards to both Bill and Fleur," Remus replied, gesturing towards the happy couple as courteous as ever.

"A shame. We will see her on Sunday when she escorts you to the wedding of course," Molly went on.

Bill watched as Remus dropped his eyes to the table, avoiding the gazes of ten pairs of curious eyes.

"Actually, Molly…I do not think she will be here on Sunday either." Remus continued to stare at the table while he gently wiped his mouth with his napkin before placing it down neatly on the table.

"Surely even Aurors get time off! That girl works too hard. Arthur, see if you can talk to someone will you?" Molly looked towards her husband who was now also looking at the table as if it were the most interesting thing in the room.

"There is no need, Molly. Arthur." He nodded in Arthur’s direction before continuing on. "Tonks is not working on Sunday as far as I am aware. She will not, however, be escorting me to the wedding. Too close to home I am afraid." Remus stopped to look around the room before excusing himself from the table. "Now if you will excuse me please, I fear I have made the room uncomfortable enough," he said before heading toward the door.

There was a moment of uncomfortable silence before Arthur cleared his throat and engaged Ginny, who was sitting to his left, in talk of saving him a dance at the wedding, she being daddy’s little girl and all. Soon taunts from her brothers came and the awkward moment was lost, lost on all that is but Remus and Bill who casually touched Remus’ arm as he walked by, shoulders slumped, head down and eyes misted over. Remus stole a quick glance at his friend and placed his own hand gently over Bill’s, patting it before continuing on past him and through the door into the small living room. With his newfound wolf senses, Bill was able to hear over the loudness of the kitchen, the soft, sad footsteps of his friend as he made his way up the stairs and into the spare room where he would be staying the weekend.

Dinner went on well into the night and eventually spilled out into the living room, along with a few bottles of a Muggle drink called champagne that Arthur had heard was great for use in special occasions. As Bill started to usher Fleur off to discuss hairdo’s and dresses with Ginny and Hermione, Molly who was lingering back in the kitchen summoned him to stay behind with her to help in the clean up.

"Get on with it then Mum," Bill said as he cast his wand in the direction of the table, effectively clearing all of the dishes and dropping them with a loud clatter into the sink.


"Get on with what dear?" she replied while busily enchanting the chairs to hang in mid air so that the broom could magically move about on its own accord, sweeping the remnants of the party into it’s dust pan.

"You don’t ask your children to hang back and clean with you. We all know that by now, woman. You do pretend to ask us to help so that you may go on about something, however. So let’s have it." Bill looked quizzically at his mother.

"Oh, alright. I guess you children know me too well. It is about Tonks, dear. And Remus too. Are they…well, what are they?" Molly looked quizzically back at her son.

"They are friends, Mum, friends. Remus is a tired man who does not feel right in endangering a vibrant young woman any more than she already is." The broom was done with its job and the chairs fell with a thud back to the floor, where Bill pulled one out for a seat.

"That is rubbish, Bill, and you know it. She loves him, just as Fleur loves you. Why is that so difficult?" Molly pulled up a chair next to him.

"It is not at all like me and Fleur, not in the least. I am not a werewolf, Mum. He is. I was bitten but six months ago and have yet to transform, making it pretty clear to me that I will not. Once a month from the age of five, Remus has endured this torture, and he knows the consequences more than most. He does not love her, Tonks. He loves the idea of her, the happy life, the big picture, but in reality, he does not let many in. He has lost so much over the years, James and Lily, Sirius, Peter…" Bill trailed off at the sound of a muffled sigh from his mother.

"He has let us in, has let you in, hasn’t he? Why not one more? Why not a woman to love him and to take care of him?" she put a hand up to Bill’s hair covered cheeks. "Won’t you try to talk to him? For me, dear, please? I do not want to see him all alone at that wedding on Sunday."

Bill took his mother’s hands from his cheeks and placed them gently at her side before rising from the table.

"I will talk to him," he said before leaving the room. He brushed past Fleur on his way through the living room and gave a quick squeeze to her shoulder before heading up the stairs. At the top of the narrow stairs, he turned left and walked down a short hallway to the only closed door. He stood transfixed outside of it for what seemed like an eternity, though in reality it had been but a short few moments. Finally he knocked on the door.

"Remus, can I come in?" Bill asked quietly and waited for a reply. He could hear the muffled sounds of falling tears come through the door and entered without further question. He made his way to the bed and sat himself next to the older man where they both remained quiet for a time, save for a few snuffles and deep breaths.

"Remus," Bill said after the man had gathered his bearings. "Are you alright?" he asked, bringing his hand to the man’s shoulder as he did so.

Remus turned to glance at the hand on his shoulder before fixing his red-rimmed eyes on Bill, praying to Merlin himself that Bill could not feel the heat emanating from under his touch, and hoping that Bill’s sense of smell was not yet keen enough to detect the arousal coming off of him. "I am not alright, my young friend," Remus said.

"Is there anything I can do?" Bill asked him. "Is there anything my mum can do? She really feels strongly about you being at this wedding alone on Sunday. Perhaps you should call Tonks, I know you care for her"

Remus brought his hand up to Bill’s and patted it reassuringly, knowing full well that the contact would drive him wild, that the feel of Bill’s bare skin beneath his own would only serve to further inflame him. "I do care for Tonks. I care for lots of people, Bill. I will be fine, please, do not worry about me. Tell your mother not to worry about me."

"I am not sure I would have been able to do this without you, Remus. You are a true friend and a great man. I only hope that some day I can repay you in turn for your kindness," Bill said earnestly to Remus, the tears once again welling up in his own eyes.

Remus let go of Bill’s hand that lay still upon his shoulder and dropped his own hands nervously to his side before bringing them up to the young man’s face, caressing his cheeks in much the same manner that Molly had done earlier. He suspected to see a flicker of fear cross Bill’s werewolf features but that fear never came. As he looked into yellowed eyes he saw compassion, kinship, love and more surprising…lust. Remus leaned in close, hands still upon Bill’s face, tempting fate itself. He longed to feel those lips upon his, longed to feel those hands that brought such warmth to his skin, longed to hear words that brought such warmth to his soul. He wanted to know what is was like to share the throes of passion with one who was so close to understanding, one who would never cower in fear from him.


There was a soft knock at the door. "Everything alright in there?" came a question from Molly’s voice.

Remus answered her quickly, "Yes Molly, just chatting with the bachelor here. Out in a jiffy," he said, hands still upon Bill’s face, lips still mere inches apart. His gaze came back to Bill’s who held it steadfastly.

"Bill, my young friend, I would not have had it any other way. You have repaid me one hundred times over with your friendship and your understanding." Remus was whispering now. "Now I feel you must leave before we make a further mess of things. You have a lovely young woman waiting for you only down the hall a bit. Your future wife and mother to your children…Go to her." He took his hands off of Bill’s face before finishing, "Please, Bill. Go."

Bill turned away, but not before Remus saw the hurt in his eyes, hurt that he had become all too accustomed to over the years. "You’re right. I should go," Bill said as he got up from the bed and made his way to the door. He placed a hand on the knob and left without a further word and without turning back.

Remus threw himself back on the bed and let the anger and the self-hatred well up in him until he was ready to explode. He nearly passed out from weariness and awoke much later in complete darkness with a feral look in his eyes. He looked about the room before gathering himself up off of the bed and making his way toward the door. He sniffed and stopped dead in his tracks. He could smell it. He could taste it. His keen werewolf senses could hear it. Sex. Lust. Desire. It was all around him. He threw open the door and made his way blindly to the source of the subject, his senses leading him right to Bill’s bedroom door. He stood outside of it and listened in utter anguish as the sounds of passionate lovemaking rang through his ears and tore apart his insides. He wanted to break down the door and rip him from her arms, the silly French girl to whom he was betrothed. The good, human side to him wanted to run and hide under his warm covers, wanted to call upon his own good girl to whisper sweet words to him in the middle of the night. The werewolf side to him wanted nothing more than to run in and claim the man on the other side of the door for himself, ripping that woman right off of him and throwing her to a heap on the floor in the process.


He tried to leave but found he could not; the smell of passion was too strong for him to ignore. He reached down with fervent desire to the growing flesh between his legs. He reached into his pants and mewled at the contact of his own hands upon himself. He closed his eyes and imagined the strong hands of a young man upon him instead, and the mewling turned into a low groan. He started to stroke himself with a pace that matched the antics of the lovers behind the door. He could hear Bill moan with each thrust into Fleur and imagined that it was he who lay underneath him, not her. The pressure was starting to build up and threatened to take over his body as he now fisted himself in a frenzied manner, praying for sweet release. He heard a feminine cry as Fleur’s orgasm ripped through her body and knew by the guttural noises coming from Bill that he was close and when he heard that final growl from behind the door, he let the final wave of pleasure wash over him, bringing him crashing down to the ground and in a heap outside of the lovers’ door.

He sat in silence, afraid to breathe and sick to his stomach over what he had just done. When finally he heard nothing but the silent sound of sleep coming from behind the door, he managed to pick himself up and make his way back to his room where he collapsed with a large, sorrowful sigh onto the bed. He prayed for precious dreams that night, dreams to take him away from the pain in his heart and the sorrow in his soul.