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amycus_carrow, bigbadpadfoot, sayshisname, and rockinradishes. All characters used with muns permission. Cut for length and violence.
Remus is in his apartment when he becomes aware that Harry has left the castle. Since it's the week of the full moon the whole day he has been battling a headache, and he had been in the process of making himself some tea to try and relax, but the tea and the headache are forgotten in an instant as he rushes out of the apartment.
Any fatigue that he could have been feeling is also forgotten as he sprints through the castle, trying to catch up with Harry. Whether students see him or not, whether they try to stop him or not to ask him if he's all right, doesn't register in his mind because the only thing he keeps thinking about is Harry leaving. He can't be leaving. He shouldn't be leaving. Merlin, WHY IS HE LEAVING? Thoughts keep shooting off, creating scenarios that only get worse and worse as he runs, and just as he sees him and is about to call out for him to stop Harry has already apparated away.
Right. Well, good thing he has that tracker on him, he thinks; he's going to need to thank Harry himself for that idea.
You need to get to him and get him back so that can happen, a voice in his head taunts him, and with a low growl of frustration he apparates after him. He is not coming back to the castle without Harry James Potter. He refuses to even let himself believe that that is a possibility because he cannot lose Harry.
When they reach their destination, Harry has already gone into a house and Remus at once looks around. That had been too easy. Far too easy, and in the air he can still smell and sense Harry's fear and anger, and he feels himself tense. It's a trap. There's no doubt in his mind that it's a trap, and as much as he hates to bring Sirius into this because he'll only endanger him, he casts a patronus.
"Harry left the castle," he says hurriedly before giving a description of the house as best as he can and where he needs to apparate. Because there's no doubt in his mind that Sirius will come at once. The puppy dashes off to find Sirius, and Remus immediately makes his way towards the house.
Just one step inside is enough for him to smell the blood, and he can sense just everything that is radiating from the basement. Remus' stomach churns despite the fact that Moony is thriving on this, but rather than concentrating on this the sight of a Death Eater emerging from the shadows makes Remus focus again. Yes, focus on the Death Eater. Focus on him, not on the blood he can almost taste from how strong everything feels to him. Focus on sending him flying back. Focus on dueling.
Be the wizard, not the wolf.
Be the man, not the beast.
While dueling they make their way to another room in the house, and just as he disarms the Death Eater in front of him and is ready to shoot another spell in his direction, a chuckle makes him stop. The small growl that follows it makes Remus freeze right on the spot without the need of a spell, and suddenly he feels as if he's back to being six years old. He knows that growl. He dreams of that growl every month. Sometimes, if he's very still and very stressed, he can hear it in the back of his mind; first like a sort of purr that rings in his ear, until it's so loud that it makes him feel as if he's losing his mind.
Sure enough, turning towards the door that leads towards the basement, he catches sight of those dark eyes that sometimes haunt him in his nightmares. He sees that smirk on his face, he sees that glint of pleasure at seeing Remus freeze, but it's as if something has knocked the wind right out of him.
Fenrir can only smile wider. "It's good to see you, pup."
It's that word that snaps him back, throwing him into that reality again rather than that night so many years ago that keeps replaying in his head at the sight of him. "Don't call me that."
"Still fighting what you really are, then? After so many years, you still haven't gotten tired of pretending?" Looking amused, Fenrir walks closer to him. He almost looks like he's prowling as he approaches Remus.
Remus can feel his blood starting to boil at that. Once he had heard that sometimes truths sting more than insults, and for a second he actually starts to wonder if that's the case here. "I am not pretending. This is what I am, and I am not you."
"And how much do you have to say it in order to believe it?" The amusement starts to die, but the smile doesn't leave his face. His voice is quiet, as if trying to get Remus to trust him. Like a father would talk to his son. You can tell me your secrets. You can tell me, and I won't tell. "Doesn't it get tiring?" He's so close to Remus now, but Remus doesn't move away. He's close enough to pin him against a wall, but Remus doesn't move so Fenrir takes his chin in his hand to examine him closer. Fenrir's eyes take in everything; the scars on Remus' face, the clothes that make Remus keep pretending that he's like everyone else. Turning to his shoulder, he softly touches the spot on his shoulder where he had bitten him the first time and he smiles as he turns to him. "So many years. Just look at you. Look at that anger in your eyes... You look just like your father, son."
"I am NOT your son," Remus growls, shoving him off then. Wand drawn, he aims at him but Fenrir is already laughing. "I am not yours. I was NEVER yours."
"So whose are you, then? Theirs?"
"They're my family."
Fenrir gives him a slow smirk then. "No they're not. One of them is not yours, at least," he says in a taunting voice. "Or don't you know? He hasn't told you?" With a speed that takes Remus by surprise, he's once more in front of him but this time he really is pinning him against the wall, taking the hand that is holding the wand and squeezing the wrist as tightly as he can. "Your pup is mine now."
No no no no no, Remus keeps repeating in his head, but once more the air feels as if it's knocked out of him. After the tournament, when he and Harry had talked, he had made up his own conclusions after all the questions that Harry had asked, after the way he had flinched when he had touched him, but to have Fenrir talk about it...
"You should have heard how he screamed," Fenrir continues, a twisted smile on his face. "He kept trying to get away, too, but you know how that goes, don't you? You remember." Passing his tongue along his lips, his smile only seems to grow. "I can still taste h--"
Remus' mind goes blank as that word is said. Taste. It rings in his ears, and it burns through him, and before Fenrir can finish talking Remus has already sent him flying across the room. Do not underestimate a wizard that can manage wandless magic, and more importantly than that do not underestimate a wizard that is running on emotional magic as well. Because Remus' emotions are flying off the chart, but the one that is blinding him is rage. A rage that is sending the wolf into a frenzy, growling and snarling because it needs prey.
Just as Fenrir starts to get up, Remus has already crossed the room but instead of aiming his wand at him he lunges in his direction and tackles him onto a wall. The walls shake, Fenrir grunts, but Remus doesn't care. His hands immediately find their way to his neck, and with all the strength he can muster he's choking Fenrir.
Fenrir just laughs, no matter how choked up he sounds because the air is getting blocked off. "That's it," he mutters in half a whisper, "show me all the anger you have, boy, but do it well. Show me!"
And with that he fights Remus off, and as Remus goes back Fenrir tackles him onto the ground. Fists connect against flesh as they roll around, each one trying to catch the other one off guard. Remus isn't a fighter, but it's so close to the full moon that the beast inside him feels trapped, it feels threatened, and every instinct that is trying to make Fenrir hurt is making him fight harder.
Fenrir is the experienced one out of the two, however. Fenrir is the one that has been fighting all his life, that is not afraid of fighting dirty. Nails dig into his skin, tear through clothes, but Remus doesn't stop struggling. He imitates him, digging his nails into his skin, punching him, doing anything he can to hurt him. To make him bleed.
It's not until he feels teeth digging into his skin that he stops. It's when he realizes that it's the same spot where Fenrir had bitten him the first time. There's just something about fighting the beast that had given him his curse at the age of six, and getting bitten in the same spot, that jolts him away from every emotion that had been allowing him to fight.
The stench of blood grows stronger, and Fenrir suddenly slams Remus' head down on the ground. Again and again, until dots of light dance in front of him. Fenrir crouches low, and when he growls so close to his ear he can suddenly hear something else.
"You should have heard how he screamed. He kept trying to get away, too, but you know how that goes, don't you? You remember. I can still taste h--"
With a growl of his own, Remus struggles again until he's the one on top. Pinning him down, his hands go around his neck again but this time the grip is much tighter. The rage is blinding, and the wolf is clearly visible as he glares down at Fenrir. At his father. Stealing a move from him, he slams his head hard on the ground, gripping as tightly as he could.
The voice that comes out of his throat doesn't register because it sounds as if it belongs to someone else. It certainly doesn't belong to Remus Lupin, because as hoarse as his voice could get, now he's rasping the same way Fenrir does. Almost growling, sneering. "You lay a finger on him again, on anyone I care about, and I swear that I will kill you. I will rip through you with my own teeth if I must. Come after me. Hurt me. I will gladly show you what your pup is made of, but leave. them. alone."
The voices downstairs make him turn towards the door briefly, but the distraction is enough for Fenrir to shove Remus off. Because, as tightly as he had been holding on, he hadn't realized that the concentration had been broken with those voices, and Fenrir laughs as he stumbles out of the house, taunting Remus to follow.
And follow he does. As much as he tries to think clearly, his instincts are driving him more than anything else. That need for blood. That need to kill. That animalistic nature that, no matter how much he fights it, it's there more than he'd like to admit.
He's just a few feet away from the house when Fenrir comes out from behind the bushes. He grabs him by the arm, digging his nails into it as tightly as he could while Remus tries to land another punch, and the momentum they both have sends them flying onto the ground again.
Before Remus can react, Fenrir is straddling him already and now it's not Remus imitating Fenrir; it's the father imitating the son as he holds him down by choking him. "It was a good try," Fenrir sneers, "but not good enough, pup. Maybe next time."
The anger takes over again, but he no longer needs to fight Fenrir off because he's off and running before he can do so. First stumbling, but it doesn't take long for Fenrir to disappear out of sight. Standing, Remus stumbles as well as he walks towards the door. Harry. He needs to check on Harry. After retrieving his wand, more to bide his time until he could focus again than to actually get the wand, he apparates back at the castle.
Harry is back. Merlin, he really needs to thank him for the idea of that bloody tracker.
Taking the hallways that he knows the students don't use too often at that time of the day, Remus makes his way to the infirmary. He doesn't need anyone to tell him to check there, because he can still smell the blood that had greeted him upon arrival. Once there, he opens the door just barely to check that they are really there before stepping back out. Harry is holding Luna, and they are surely waiting for Poppy to finish, and for now that's all he needs to know.
The rage has died down. The anger is still lingering there, but it's not enough anymore because the adrenaline is draining out of him quickly. Taking a few more steps, towards the end of the corridor and close to the window, Remus just leans against the wall and lets himself slide down to sit on the floor. He's exhausted. He's bleeding, his wrist hurts, his whole body aches, but he doesn't particularly care. He'll be fine. There's not much Poppy can do about werewolf bites, so he'll just wait there for news. More importantly than anything else, he'll stay there to keep guard as long as he has to.
word count: 2,360
amycus_carrow, bigbadpadfoot, sayshisname, and rockinradishes. All characters used with muns permission. Cut for length and violence.Remus is in his apartment when he becomes aware that Harry has left the castle. Since it's the week of the full moon the whole day he has been battling a headache, and he had been in the process of making himself some tea to try and relax, but the tea and the headache are forgotten in an instant as he rushes out of the apartment.
Any fatigue that he could have been feeling is also forgotten as he sprints through the castle, trying to catch up with Harry. Whether students see him or not, whether they try to stop him or not to ask him if he's all right, doesn't register in his mind because the only thing he keeps thinking about is Harry leaving. He can't be leaving. He shouldn't be leaving. Merlin, WHY IS HE LEAVING? Thoughts keep shooting off, creating scenarios that only get worse and worse as he runs, and just as he sees him and is about to call out for him to stop Harry has already apparated away.
Right. Well, good thing he has that tracker on him, he thinks; he's going to need to thank Harry himself for that idea.
You need to get to him and get him back so that can happen, a voice in his head taunts him, and with a low growl of frustration he apparates after him. He is not coming back to the castle without Harry James Potter. He refuses to even let himself believe that that is a possibility because he cannot lose Harry.
When they reach their destination, Harry has already gone into a house and Remus at once looks around. That had been too easy. Far too easy, and in the air he can still smell and sense Harry's fear and anger, and he feels himself tense. It's a trap. There's no doubt in his mind that it's a trap, and as much as he hates to bring Sirius into this because he'll only endanger him, he casts a patronus.
"Harry left the castle," he says hurriedly before giving a description of the house as best as he can and where he needs to apparate. Because there's no doubt in his mind that Sirius will come at once. The puppy dashes off to find Sirius, and Remus immediately makes his way towards the house.
Just one step inside is enough for him to smell the blood, and he can sense just everything that is radiating from the basement. Remus' stomach churns despite the fact that Moony is thriving on this, but rather than concentrating on this the sight of a Death Eater emerging from the shadows makes Remus focus again. Yes, focus on the Death Eater. Focus on him, not on the blood he can almost taste from how strong everything feels to him. Focus on sending him flying back. Focus on dueling.
Be the wizard, not the wolf.
Be the man, not the beast.
While dueling they make their way to another room in the house, and just as he disarms the Death Eater in front of him and is ready to shoot another spell in his direction, a chuckle makes him stop. The small growl that follows it makes Remus freeze right on the spot without the need of a spell, and suddenly he feels as if he's back to being six years old. He knows that growl. He dreams of that growl every month. Sometimes, if he's very still and very stressed, he can hear it in the back of his mind; first like a sort of purr that rings in his ear, until it's so loud that it makes him feel as if he's losing his mind.
Sure enough, turning towards the door that leads towards the basement, he catches sight of those dark eyes that sometimes haunt him in his nightmares. He sees that smirk on his face, he sees that glint of pleasure at seeing Remus freeze, but it's as if something has knocked the wind right out of him.
Fenrir can only smile wider. "It's good to see you, pup."
It's that word that snaps him back, throwing him into that reality again rather than that night so many years ago that keeps replaying in his head at the sight of him. "Don't call me that."
"Still fighting what you really are, then? After so many years, you still haven't gotten tired of pretending?" Looking amused, Fenrir walks closer to him. He almost looks like he's prowling as he approaches Remus.
Remus can feel his blood starting to boil at that. Once he had heard that sometimes truths sting more than insults, and for a second he actually starts to wonder if that's the case here. "I am not pretending. This is what I am, and I am not you."
"And how much do you have to say it in order to believe it?" The amusement starts to die, but the smile doesn't leave his face. His voice is quiet, as if trying to get Remus to trust him. Like a father would talk to his son. You can tell me your secrets. You can tell me, and I won't tell. "Doesn't it get tiring?" He's so close to Remus now, but Remus doesn't move away. He's close enough to pin him against a wall, but Remus doesn't move so Fenrir takes his chin in his hand to examine him closer. Fenrir's eyes take in everything; the scars on Remus' face, the clothes that make Remus keep pretending that he's like everyone else. Turning to his shoulder, he softly touches the spot on his shoulder where he had bitten him the first time and he smiles as he turns to him. "So many years. Just look at you. Look at that anger in your eyes... You look just like your father, son."
"I am NOT your son," Remus growls, shoving him off then. Wand drawn, he aims at him but Fenrir is already laughing. "I am not yours. I was NEVER yours."
"So whose are you, then? Theirs?"
"They're my family."
Fenrir gives him a slow smirk then. "No they're not. One of them is not yours, at least," he says in a taunting voice. "Or don't you know? He hasn't told you?" With a speed that takes Remus by surprise, he's once more in front of him but this time he really is pinning him against the wall, taking the hand that is holding the wand and squeezing the wrist as tightly as he can. "Your pup is mine now."
No no no no no, Remus keeps repeating in his head, but once more the air feels as if it's knocked out of him. After the tournament, when he and Harry had talked, he had made up his own conclusions after all the questions that Harry had asked, after the way he had flinched when he had touched him, but to have Fenrir talk about it...
"You should have heard how he screamed," Fenrir continues, a twisted smile on his face. "He kept trying to get away, too, but you know how that goes, don't you? You remember." Passing his tongue along his lips, his smile only seems to grow. "I can still taste h--"
Remus' mind goes blank as that word is said. Taste. It rings in his ears, and it burns through him, and before Fenrir can finish talking Remus has already sent him flying across the room. Do not underestimate a wizard that can manage wandless magic, and more importantly than that do not underestimate a wizard that is running on emotional magic as well. Because Remus' emotions are flying off the chart, but the one that is blinding him is rage. A rage that is sending the wolf into a frenzy, growling and snarling because it needs prey.
Just as Fenrir starts to get up, Remus has already crossed the room but instead of aiming his wand at him he lunges in his direction and tackles him onto a wall. The walls shake, Fenrir grunts, but Remus doesn't care. His hands immediately find their way to his neck, and with all the strength he can muster he's choking Fenrir.
Fenrir just laughs, no matter how choked up he sounds because the air is getting blocked off. "That's it," he mutters in half a whisper, "show me all the anger you have, boy, but do it well. Show me!"
And with that he fights Remus off, and as Remus goes back Fenrir tackles him onto the ground. Fists connect against flesh as they roll around, each one trying to catch the other one off guard. Remus isn't a fighter, but it's so close to the full moon that the beast inside him feels trapped, it feels threatened, and every instinct that is trying to make Fenrir hurt is making him fight harder.
Fenrir is the experienced one out of the two, however. Fenrir is the one that has been fighting all his life, that is not afraid of fighting dirty. Nails dig into his skin, tear through clothes, but Remus doesn't stop struggling. He imitates him, digging his nails into his skin, punching him, doing anything he can to hurt him. To make him bleed.
It's not until he feels teeth digging into his skin that he stops. It's when he realizes that it's the same spot where Fenrir had bitten him the first time. There's just something about fighting the beast that had given him his curse at the age of six, and getting bitten in the same spot, that jolts him away from every emotion that had been allowing him to fight.
The stench of blood grows stronger, and Fenrir suddenly slams Remus' head down on the ground. Again and again, until dots of light dance in front of him. Fenrir crouches low, and when he growls so close to his ear he can suddenly hear something else.
"You should have heard how he screamed. He kept trying to get away, too, but you know how that goes, don't you? You remember. I can still taste h--"
With a growl of his own, Remus struggles again until he's the one on top. Pinning him down, his hands go around his neck again but this time the grip is much tighter. The rage is blinding, and the wolf is clearly visible as he glares down at Fenrir. At his father. Stealing a move from him, he slams his head hard on the ground, gripping as tightly as he could.
The voice that comes out of his throat doesn't register because it sounds as if it belongs to someone else. It certainly doesn't belong to Remus Lupin, because as hoarse as his voice could get, now he's rasping the same way Fenrir does. Almost growling, sneering. "You lay a finger on him again, on anyone I care about, and I swear that I will kill you. I will rip through you with my own teeth if I must. Come after me. Hurt me. I will gladly show you what your pup is made of, but leave. them. alone."
The voices downstairs make him turn towards the door briefly, but the distraction is enough for Fenrir to shove Remus off. Because, as tightly as he had been holding on, he hadn't realized that the concentration had been broken with those voices, and Fenrir laughs as he stumbles out of the house, taunting Remus to follow.
And follow he does. As much as he tries to think clearly, his instincts are driving him more than anything else. That need for blood. That need to kill. That animalistic nature that, no matter how much he fights it, it's there more than he'd like to admit.
He's just a few feet away from the house when Fenrir comes out from behind the bushes. He grabs him by the arm, digging his nails into it as tightly as he could while Remus tries to land another punch, and the momentum they both have sends them flying onto the ground again.
Before Remus can react, Fenrir is straddling him already and now it's not Remus imitating Fenrir; it's the father imitating the son as he holds him down by choking him. "It was a good try," Fenrir sneers, "but not good enough, pup. Maybe next time."
The anger takes over again, but he no longer needs to fight Fenrir off because he's off and running before he can do so. First stumbling, but it doesn't take long for Fenrir to disappear out of sight. Standing, Remus stumbles as well as he walks towards the door. Harry. He needs to check on Harry. After retrieving his wand, more to bide his time until he could focus again than to actually get the wand, he apparates back at the castle.
Harry is back. Merlin, he really needs to thank him for the idea of that bloody tracker.
Taking the hallways that he knows the students don't use too often at that time of the day, Remus makes his way to the infirmary. He doesn't need anyone to tell him to check there, because he can still smell the blood that had greeted him upon arrival. Once there, he opens the door just barely to check that they are really there before stepping back out. Harry is holding Luna, and they are surely waiting for Poppy to finish, and for now that's all he needs to know.
The rage has died down. The anger is still lingering there, but it's not enough anymore because the adrenaline is draining out of him quickly. Taking a few more steps, towards the end of the corridor and close to the window, Remus just leans against the wall and lets himself slide down to sit on the floor. He's exhausted. He's bleeding, his wrist hurts, his whole body aches, but he doesn't particularly care. He'll be fine. There's not much Poppy can do about werewolf bites, so he'll just wait there for news. More importantly than anything else, he'll stay there to keep guard as long as he has to.
word count: 2,360
