The Werewolf's Child

Spinner's End

The first few days were a blur that only gradually came into focus. Remus spent long hours, alone and in pain in the strange old fashioned bedroom. He only gradually recognized the man who came and went, who changed the dressings on his wounds, applying a cooling salve, who brought him potions to drink and fed him broth from a spoon, who helped him to the bathroom and and sat him unceremoniously on the toilet. It was Severus Snape.

Remus didn't particularly want to live. He felt he was beyond all that. Everyone he had cared about was dead, everyone but Harry, and he didn't feel he could do Harry any good at this point anyway. The months as a prisoner in the werewolf camp had been horrible, painful and humiliating beyond imagining. He didn't want to go on in a world where such things were possible.

And yet, he felt his strength returning to him. After a few days of continuous dozing he found himself restless, bored, the hours alone in the darkened room weighing heavily upon him. He got up, stretched, every joint in his body cracking. He went to the window and pulled open the curtains. It was a pale sort of wintery day. He looked down at the grimy street below, the somber brick rowhouses lining it on either side. Off in the distance was a factory, made of the same brick, with smoke curling out of a high chimney, so tall it dominated the sky. He knew where he must be. This was Severus's house. Spinner's End.

He was wearing some kind of a nightshirt in a faded grey. He rummaged in drawers and found some clothing of Severus's; pants and a vest, black trousers, black jumper, green socks. He changed, smiling to himself a bit at the green socks.

He went to the bathroom, stood to piss for a change, and rinsed his mouth. His face was covered with a stubbly growth of beard. He shaved, using a rusty old fashioned safety razor he found in the medicine cabinet, which was surprisingly heavy in his hand, and a yellowed piece of soap, veined with grime. He crossed the landing to the small bedroom, done up in Slytherin green and silver, that must have been Sev's as a child. Sunlight filtered through a sooty window. Below was a neglected garden, rather larger than he had expected, with a greenhouse at the southern end. Several panes of glass were broken, giving it a gap toothed appearance. The unbroken panes caught the weak winter sunlight, and glinted.

Down in the kitchen he found a loaf of bread, a bottle of milk, some eggs and oranges. A packet of digestives. Had these been left for his benefit? As far as he knew, Severus lived and ate at Hogwarts. He made himself a cup of tea, using the stove as he had no wand. He managed to get down half an orange. Everything in the kitchen had a dusty, unused feel. The furniture in the lounge was covered in sheets. At the far end the door was ajar revealing a small but densely packed library. The collection was extensive, floor to ceiling and contained many books that were rare or forbidden. Remus sequestered himself there for the rest of the day, reading ravenously in a dusty armchair of faded burgundy. When darkness fell he made his way back to the kitchen. He nibbled a couple of digestives to keep his nausea at bay and crawled back into bed.

He woke in the middle of the night, startled, not knowing where he was. The horror and fear that had been his daily companions in the werewolf camp overtook him and for a moment he panicked. Then he recognized the bedroom, the glare of the orange streetlights coming in where he had opened the curtains earlier in the afternoon.

Severus was sitting in a chair at the foot of the bed, staring at him.

"It's all right, Lupin," he said. His voice was neutral, unreadable. "You're safe here."

For a long moment, they just looked at each other. "Sev, I've no wand."

"I'll find you a wand." He rose. "There's food in the kitchen. I must get back. I may not be able to return for several days. The garden's warded, as well as the house. But don't go beyond the gate. You're a wanted man." He went to the fireplace and was gone through the floo.

*******

Remus fell into a routine of sorts over the next few days, involving alternating tea drinking, cracker nibbling, vomiting and reading. The garden was sodden with rain and cold and did not tempt him. He took a long nap every afternoon. His nights were haunted by dreams. He dreamed again of his imprisonment, the hunger and cold, the humiliation and fear, the pain. He dreamed of James and Lily, of his boyhood and the companionship of his friends, though it had all been so long ago. He dreamed of a large black dog, that would come bounding to him through the snow, and he would wake with a yearning so deep he thought he could not bear it.

He missed Sirius, like an ache, always.

On the third night he woke in a cold sweat from a particularly vivid dream of the tortures he had endured, and Severus was there, sitting in the chair at the foot of the bed, illuminated oddly by the orange street lamp and saying not a word. He looked at Remus for a long time. Remus was unsure what he wanted, but at last the loneliness he felt was too much and he lifted the coverlet, inviting Severus in.

"Hold me?" he asked and Severus nodded once. He stood and took off his shoes, his traveling cloak, his robes, while Remus watched him. He got in the bed in his trousers and undershirt. He settled Remus in his arms and they slept.

Remus awoke sometime later and he could tell Severus wanted him. He could sense the other man's arousal, behind him, hear his cautious, not asleep, breathing. Remus stirred and he heard Sev's breath catch. He shifted his arse, a little closer, and Sev's breathing got more rapid. Without really wanting to, he felt his body responding to Sev's excitement in kind. He felt an electric tingle go up his spine as Sev shifted his weight a little bit, still not touching him, but closer.

They moved around like that, in a kind of dance, for a long while, the excitement and yearning building between, them, closer each time until with the tiniest movement, Remus shifted his arse into Severus. He felt Sev's erection pushing against him through the layers of fabric between them. Remus' breath was rapid now as well. Sev's mouth was on the back of his neck, light whispery puffs of air, soft lips and tongue. His arms went around Remus and he pulled him against himself with a groan. Remus felt any self control, any resistance he might have had to these strange advances leave him. He moaned himself and pushed back against Sev and twisted his head so their mouths met in a hot clash of tongues and teeth.

Then Sev was ferocious, ravenous, unstoppable. He pushed Remus onto his back, shoved his nightshirt up and off, tearing off his own clothing furiously. He kissed and nibbled and sucked, front and back, then asked Remus, throatily, if he could fuck him.

Remus looked back at him warily. He was not sure where all this was coming from. They had known each other from childhood, and he had never known Sev to show the least interest in other men. At last he nodded.

"Do you have a condom?" he asked. Even in his depression and despair he couldn't help being responsible about sex. "And we'll need some lube."

"I'll find us something," said Sev. He rose and Remus heard him fumbling in the bureau. He wondered vaguely, who else Sev had fucked in this bed. Not that it meant anything to him.

Sev was back with a condom and some kind of lotion and slicked Remus' arse almost tenderly. Remus heard him fumbling with the condom, the wrapper tearing, the crinkling of foil. Remus turned to help him put on the condom and to lube him with the lotion. Sev's nostrils flared, his breathing got raspy, and he closed his eyes. Remus rolled onto his back, lifted his hips and guided him in. Sev was cautious at first, a look of intense concentration on his face, but once he found his rhythm he fucked hard and fast, taking Remus' cock in his fist and making him come with an intensity that rocked Remus from head to toe. Sev climaxed with a sob that sounded as if it was being wrenched from his gut. And then they both fell into a deep sleep, almost instantly.

In the morning, when Remus awoke, Severus was gone. November sun was pouring through the eastern window. He looked over at the old fashioned nightstand by the bed and saw that Severus had left him a wand.