The Wolf and The Raven, Bk 2

Ch 29 - A Matter of Life and Death

Fasten your seatbelts, it's going to be a bumpy night
Warnings: explicit depiction of oral sex, dirty talk, swearing, character death, canon divergence

The days that followed were idyllic, full of traditional Christmas activities and family affection. Hope threw herself into a frenzy of baking during the holidays, and Remus and Branwen were more than eager to help, especially in exchange for a first taste of her Christmas cakes. At night, when Lyall came home from the Ministry, they gathered around the hearth to pull toffee while the Muggle radio played Bing Crosby's "White Christmas."

Rudolph pranced into their lives once again when, one evening, they all gathered around the small black-and-white television to watch a stop-motion film called Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer. It had been released when Remus was eight years old and Branwen loved to see the childlike wonder that came to his eyes as the story of the young reindeer's life unfolded.

On the night before Christmas Eve, the Lupins enjoyed a rare meal out, tucking into the fare at the local pub with relish. They feasted on goose and plum pudding and a mulled wassail shared among the other patrons. A little tipsy as they made their way home, they began an impromptu carolling and were soon joined by other merry members of the village. Together, they wandered from house to house, serenading the occupants.

Despite the joy of the season though, Remus found himself increasingly frustrated as the week progressed. After almost six months together, he and Branwen had yet to move beyond heavy snogging and awkward groping over clothes. He had hoped that this time – with no other Marauders, no full moon, nothing weighing on their minds – they could move to the next step. But every night, Branwen fell fast asleep after only a long good-night kiss.

Of course, you could just talk to her about it, the logical side of his mind told him. But that's where his Gryffindor courage failed him. Lily had been the one to ask him to Hogsmeade, and the girl in the pub had approached him for sex; Branwen was the first girl with whom Remus had ever initiated affection.

He wished desperately that he had a friend he could talk to about it – a friend that wasn't biologically or emotionally part of Branwen's family. He actually sat down and scribbled out a note to Frank one day, but burned it after re-reading its ridiculous contents.

His prolonged hesitation left him with some embarrassing situations. More than once, he woke up with a throbbing ache in his groin. He would hurry to the bathroom to relieve himself as best he could before Branwen could wake and discover his "condition."

Despite his vexing nights and mornings though, Remus continued to enjoy the long days of bliss with his family. On Christmas Eve, Branwen and the Lupins decorated the large tree in the sitting room.

Hope and Branwen sat beside each other on the sofa, stringing popcorn and cranberries, their heads bent together, giggling like schoolgirls. Lyall and Remus exchanged glances as they hung the fairy lights around the tree. "Don't look now, son," Lyall winked, "but I think we've caught the attention of some very lovely young ladies."

"Don't flatter yourselves, boys," Hope laughed. "We were just admiring how the tree is coming together."

Lyall stood back and wiped his brow. Between the cheerfully flickering fire and the Warming Charm on the house, it was getting a little stuffy. He smiled at his wife. "Well, it's almost finished. All we need is the angel on top. Stand up, dear, and I'll put you up there myself."

"Aw!" Branwen set down her needle and string. "I see where you get your romantic nature from, puppy."

"Puppy?" Lyall raised a brow.

"Oh, hush, Lyall. Let them have their little pet names." Hope stood. "These are ready now."

Chuckling, Lyall waved his wand and the strands of edible decorations wove themselves around the tree, along with a dozen candles that lit themselves with a snap of his fingers. With another wave, the stockings hung themselves from the mantle.

For the past fifteen years, only three stockings had hung in the Lupin household. This Christmas, there were four. In fresh new stitching, Branwen appeared after the worn names of Lyall, Hope, and Remus. Branwen looked away, trying to hide her happy tears, while the others busily arranged presents beneath the fully-decorated tree.

Lyall was placing the last gift when an owl swooped over the house, dropping an envelope down the flue. He caught it before it could reach the flames. Scanning the contents, he groaned. "I can't believe it – on Christmas Eve of all times!"

"What is it, love?" Hope's brow furrowed.

He sighed. "It's – it's nothing. Just something they want me to check up on."

"Oh, Lyall. Do you have to?" Hope tried, unsuccessfully, to hide the disappointment in her voice.

"I promise I'll be back before morning." He kissed his wife's head. "Even if I have to hitch a ride with Father Christmas."

"Night, Dad," Remus hugged his father. "Be safe."

"Good night, Lyall," Branwen hugged him as well before he left the house.

"Well," Hope sighed, "we might as well turn in. There are some biscuits and tea ready in the kitchen, dears. You can take them upstairs with you. Good-night."

They bid good-night to Hope and followed her suggestion, taking up the tea. Like all the nights before, nothing happened. They huddled together beneath the blankets and talked, speculating what might have called Lyall away so urgently. But by the time the tea had cooled, they were both sound asleep.



Branwen rolled over and slowly opened her eyes. She had been awoken by a sudden chill. Despite the heavy quilts Hope had supplied them with, there was a definite lack of warmth in the bed she was sharing with Remus. Still surfacing from sleep, she reached out, only to find her fingers resting on a pillow, rather than her boyfriend's solid chest. She blinked and peered around. The clock on the beside table told her it was the early hours of Christmas morning.

"Remus?" She groggily pulled back the covers and immediately began to shiver. She had gone to bed the night before wearing only Remus' jumper. Before beginning a search for him, she hurried to his cupboard and rifled through the clothes until she found her own trousers and a pair of Remus' socks, which she rolled up twice to fit her small feet.

Once she was slightly more fortified against the cold, she noticed the door to toilet was ajar, casting a florescent beam into the darkness of the bedroom. She crept closer. "Remus?"

There was no answer, but unfamiliar sounds spilled out along with the light. Hugging her arms tightly about herself, she called out again. "Remus?"

The noises continued, but this time she heard her name in a soft, low whisper.

Branwen gently nudged the door open all the way. Her jaw dropped at what she saw.

Remus was naked, leaning against the wall of the shower. His head was thrown back, accentuating the long, elegant lines of his body....and his cock. Stiff, hard, and larger than Branwen could have imagined, he was jerking it with short, fast motions. From his mouth came Branwen's name, like a prayer begging for his release.

It was the most stunning sight Branwen had ever encountered.

"Fuck!" Remus yelped in pain. Suddenly aware that the door was open, he had yanked himself too hard, startled that his girlfriend had caught him in such a compromising situation.

For a moment, the two held each other's gaze. Then Remus leapt forward. "Branwen. Branwen, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean – I mean – I didn't think –"

"Let me help." While he tried to stammer an explanation, she had slowly crossed the room, and was stepping into the shower.

"No. No, I can't let you do that." Remus grabbed her forearms, his fingers digging into her biceps.

"Why not?" She reached out and grazed her knuckles against his cock. After shrinking slightly from cold and embarrassment, it began to swell again beneath her touch.

"Because – because, this isn't how I wanted it to be. You deserve better than this – you deserve all the attention to be on yourself."

"But I want this. I want you." Remus was no stranger to the pleading gaze on Branwen's face, but her fingers delicately dancing up and down his throbbing cock dissolved any objections he had left. Breathing heavily, he slowly allowed her to slide to her knees.

Branwen had never seen a penis outside of a medical setting (or the few times she accidentally walked in on Sirius strutting around his dorm in nothing but his birthday suit). But this was nothing like that. Stiff and thick, the tip of Remus' cock stretched above her brow, pressing hard against his navel.

Tentatively, she reached out and grasped it in her hand. It was like granite draped in silk. She traced her fingers over it before gently taking hold, tentatively stroking. She had no technique whatsoever, but Remus still grunted and sighed at the mere image of her fingers wrapped his member. Occasionally he panted something like "squeeze harder" or "move faster." She obeyed every time, increasing her own pleasure at his satisfied reactions.

Then, when she had gathered up enough courage, she leaned forward, and pressed her tongue to the underside of the shaft. Remus' entire body tensed in an effort to not explode at that very moment.

Branwen's boldness continued as she licked every inch of cock she could find. Finally, she parted her lips and slipped the tip inside her mouth.

"Fuck!" Remus grabbed her hair, squeezing as hard as he could.

"Did I hurt you?" Branwen gasped and rocked back, Remus' hand still tangled in her hair.

"No – Merlin, no." Remus was panting and sweating despite the cold. The veins in his neck and biceps were pulsing rapidly. "It's just....fuck, I'm so close. Just seeing you here. Merlin, look at you. Wearing my jumper. Your saliva all over my cock. You're the one who did this to me, you know. You're the only one who can get me in this state. Fuck, little chick, I could just come right now."

Branwen could feel her own arousal spike at her boyfriend's dirty words. She strained against his hold on her, lunging on to his cock with her mouth. She swallowed as much as she could, then began to suck – hard.

Remus grabbed at her hair once more. "Pull back, Branwen – I'm coming."

She tried to ignore him, to prolong her suction, but he yanked hard on her hair, forcing her away. With his one free hand, he grabbed himself and pumped as hard and fast as he could. Before she knew it, a warm, thick liquid was pouring over her face. Finally releasing his grip on Branwen and himself, Remus sank to the floor, exhausted.

But Branwen wasn't done. She gathered a bit of the cum that had landed on her face and licked it, tasting this new part of her boyfriend. It was warm and salty and somewhat sweet, like tangy honey dripping down her lips.

When Remus opened his eyes, he was met with the sight of his girlfriend devouring his cum from her face. He groaned and released a final spurt, which Branwen scooped up with two fingers before sucking them clean.

When it was finally finished, they rested on the shower floor, panting, watching each other. Neither spoke.

With the heat ebbing from his body, Remus shivered. Branwen started to her feet, but he clambered up first, then extended his hand to help her. Once they left the narrow shower, he swept her from her feet, squeezing her tightly to his bare chest. They drank in the sight of each other, before drawing into a long kiss. Heat began to return to their bodies as they melded together. It lacked the urgency of a few moments ago, but it was more passionate, more ardent, more satisfied.

When they finally pulled away, once again panting, Remus gently carried her to his bed. He dug through his cupboard and pulled out socks, trousers, and a shirt for himself and an extra jumper for Branwen. "Up." He nodded, indicating that she should lift her arms.

Despite their recent intimacy, Branwen's cheeks tinged with red as he slipped the jumper from her body. She was wearing nothing underneath and her breasts swelled to attention at the intrusion of the cold air. But Remus seemed not to notice. He tugged the new jumper down on her body, tossing aside the sperm-stained garment. Then, disappearing back into the bathroom, he returned with a damp cloth.

"Sorry it's cold." He gently scrubbed her face, removing any trace of his recent discharge. When he felt she was clean, he leaned back on the bed, drawing her into his lap. She curled between his knees, leaning into his chest. They both breathed a deep sigh of contentment.

"Thank you." Remus whispered against her ear. "You were wonderful."

Branwen simply hummed in response and kissed his collarbone.

"You're next, you know." He chuckled, stroking her hair. When she didn't respond, he quickly added. "If you want."

"Oh yes." She said emphatically. "It's just, it's so cold right now."

"Yeah." Remus frowned. "It's odd. Dad's Warming Charms are usually pretty strong in the winter. Even the water in the sink was cold though."

"It's warm here though," Branwen tried to snuggle closer, as though she could slip right through his ribcage and rest her head against his heart.

Almost lazily, Remus began to ran his hands up and down her body, gently passing along her curves. He gave small, gentle squeezes along her calves, her hips, and – gingerly, tentatively – beneath her breasts. At his touch, she arched her back with a sharp intake of breath. Remus smiled, kissing her neck and squeezing one more time, a little harder. Branwen whined.

As he continued his ministrations though, her body suddenly stiffened. "Daddy?"

Remus froze. "Wha-?" his voice cracked. "What?"

"Shh."

In the silence that followed, voices filtered up from the ground floor. One belonged to Hope, the other to a man that Remus quickly identified as Branwen's father.

Their eyes met then Branwen giggled. "Did you think I was calling you 'Daddy'?"

"Of course not," Remus scoffed in embarrassment. "Besides, if I was your Daddy, you'd be getting a spanking right about now, young lady."

He grabbed her around her waist and they rolled onto the bed, laughing.

"Remus? Branwen?" Hope's voice came from just outside the door.

"Yes, Mum?" Remus shushed Branwen as he answered his mother.

"Mr. Potter's here. He'd like to speak with us." Her voice was sober, washing all traces of glee from the teens.

"We're coming, Mum."

Remus and Branwen straightened themselves up, then went downstairs to find Hope and Fleamont sitting in front of the hearth. The fire was a mere flicker and an icy cold permeated the room. A tray of steaming tea was sitting on the table in front of the pair, but neither had partaken of it.

"Happy Christmas, Daddy." Branwen smiled, but her father remained solemn as he watched her approach. Remus and Branwen sat on the sofa together, gripping each other tightly. There was no denying the tension in the room.

When they were all seated, Fleamont sighed. "I wish I was here to bring happier news, but....Hope, Remus....I'm so sorry. It's Lyall....he' s....he's gone. He was killed by Death Eaters last night."