Creatures Of The Dark [NC-17]

Creatures Of the Dark
by

Written for yeats and posted to hp_springsmut 2006
Rating: NC-17
Pairing(s): RL/NM
Word Count: 9,015
Warnings: handjob, oral, growly Remus, woman on top
Authors notes: This takes place during Prisoner of Azkaban and ends just after HBP.

DISCLAIMER: The HP Universe is Rowlings. Some of us just play in it from time to time.

She might have avoided him if she'd seen him first.

Narcissa Malfoy had just finished visiting her son in the school infirmary and was stepping out into the corridor when one of the professor's nearly ran into her.

"Oh, dear! Forgive me. I should have looked where I was going," said a kind and pleasant voice.

His obvious sincerity made her knee-jerk reaction of annoyance calm instantly and she looked up into the warmest and somehow saddest eyes she'd ever seen.

"I'm sorry, too, Professor--"

"Lupin. But aren't you Mrs. Malfoy? Narcissa, if I recall correctly," he replied with a smile that warmed his eyes even more.

Flustered now, she blinked and nodded. "Yes, in fact. Do we know one another?"

She had cause to doubt once she looked at his attire.

He was threadbare and tatty, two words that did not describe anyone she knew, leastwise, not anyone of quality. Still, he was a professor, so his mind must be top-notch for the Board of Governors to have approved him.

"We were in school together. I'm Remus Lupin."

She processed this and everything clicked. "You're the Gryffindor prefect -- the one that got our Severus into so much trouble sixth year."

The smile wavered, lessened, and she found she did not like this.

"I'm afraid so, yes. Boys will be boys."

"Yes, indeed." Narcissa was eyeing him so closely Lupin wondered if he had food in his teeth. His smile died completely.

"Is something wrong, Mrs. Malfoy?"

"Please, call me Narcissa, Remus. You're teaching my son. That puts us on a par."

"Thank you, Narcissa. I appreciate your kindness."

"What exactly do you teach, Remus?"

"Defense Against the Dark Arts."

Narcissa considered this, her respect for him ratcheting up a few notches. The only students that excelled at DADA much less achieved NEWTs in it, tended to be Slytherin and Ravenclaw. Gryffindor he might have been, and poor, but clearly he had a good mind and some Slytherin tendencies.

"How is my son doing in your class?"

Remus's smile returned and she found she liked it very much.

"Instead of standing here talking in the corridor, why don't you accompany me to my office and we can discuss your son's work in my class?"

"Please lead the way, Remus."

* * *

Narcissa revised her opinion twice more when he brought her a steaming mug of tea.

The mug, clean, but chipped and as worn-looking as the man himself, made her frown. The tea he served, though... this was not inferior brew or even the mostly palatable drink the Hogwarts elves provided. No, this was something he must know about. Her estimation of him rose.

"However did you come by Dragonheart Mountain tea, Remus?"

"I thought we were going to speak of your son's work in my class?"

"Can't we do both?"

He blinked, and then sat back in the chair. He'd allowed her first pick of seats and she'd chosen the edge of the small couch, facing away from the window, which also had the benefit of having him looking into the light to see her.

"It was a gift from someone whose child I tutored."

"Then you're as good an instructor as I thought."

He considered this. "Your son is very efficient in his defensive spells. A bit quick on the draw, perhaps, but that can be useful in dueling."

"Yes. Draco was taught by his father."

"I imagine Lucius is quite proficient," Remus demurred.

"Indeed. He had wanted Draco to attend Durmstrang. Lucius feels that to learn how to defend oneself against the Dark Arts, one needs to understand them. This, of course, is contrary to Hogwarts criteria."

"A criteria that is both Ministry and Board approved."

"As you say."

She sipped at the excellent tea and re-assessed the man before her. He was more than pleasant to look at. His hair was not as long as she liked, but it was clean and well cared for. His eyes were kind and had a sad quality to them that she found appealing. His face... those scars were quite appealing.

Scars worn openly in a world where salves and spells existed to fade or erase them were badges of pride. He could have glamoured them off his face if they resisted magical cure, but he didn't. Whatever he had faced that scarred him, he had clearly conquered. This made him a man worthy of due consideration.

His height was good, not too tall. His build was not as bulky as some, but then Narcissa preferred more slender men. She found him imminently attractive.

"Your tea is excellent. You should come by our estate sometime. I should very much like to proffer you some of our own tea. I have special blends from Asia and Indonesia."

"That's very kind of you, Narcissa. Wouldn't your husband find it odd to have his son's professor just dropping by? I'd hate to alarm him."

Narcissa smiled. "Lucius keeps busy. I see him twice a week at most and usually at meals. I may invite any guest I choose and I choose to invite you, Remus. Please say you'll come. This weekend."

"Will Lucius be there?" he inquired pleasantly, adding, "I'd be glad of the chance to ask if I might peruse his library for advanced tomes on my favourite subject."

"I'm afraid my husband is going to be at our manor house in Lausanne taking care of some local matters, but I'm sure he'll be delighted to allow you use of our library."

"Perhaps I should visit when he's there, so I could ask him personally. I'd hate to cause offense."

"You wouldn't. You're free to ask him, of course. However, I had truly hoped for some company this weekend. I could use some help cataloguing my own reference materials. Perhaps you'd find something useful there; my private library is not the size of my husband's, of course, but I am more selective of what I collect." Narcissa spoke blithely, but Remus could hear the pain it cost her to add, "I'd ask Draco, but my son is growing up and wishes to have as little to do with his parents as possible."

"They outgrow that phase."

She looked at him. "Do they?"

"Yes, indeed," he assured her, and then spoke on a whim. "When would you like me to stop by?"

* * *

The books in Narcissa Malfoy's private reading room were beyond all of Remus's expectations. For one thing, her private reading room was twice the size of his entire office plus classroom at Hogwarts. For another, the surroundings were not the plush opulence he had assumed.

The room was sturdy and comfortable. There were chairs before a fireplace, two chairs in a far corner, a lounge in another corner near a low table with pillows around it, a desk with a box on it and a complete set of writing materials by a window with a gorgeous view, and a door on the far wall that led to an en suite bathroom. The floor was a warm, polished and expensive hardwood with various rugs.

Before he had been able to go inside the room, a tiny dragon made of silver had flown up when he approached the door, circled his head, and then flown off again.

"Dark detector," Narcissa said in a bored tone, as if everyone had tiny, silver dragons vetting their guests. "If you don't have some genuine interest in Dark Arts or aren't touched by the Dark yourself, it will singe you."

Remus looked at the tiny magical bit of metal that had winged its way to a shelf on the bookcase and stood as an ornament and wondered which it had seen in him; a man with a genuine interest in Dark Arts or a creature of the dark, a werewolf? Both were true readings.

Apparently, Narcissa had the same questions in mind.

"So tell me, Remus - I know you are interested in the Dark Arts, but have you been touched by the dark?"

She had sat on the lounge and was eyeing him speculatively. She was wearing a silk dress that displayed her to advantage and Remus had a hard time taking his eyes off her long legs.

"Doesn't the dragon say?"

She smiled. "I'd rather hear it from your own lips."

"I... I thought I was here to help you sort some reference material."

"We will. First, I wish to learn more about what kind of man is teaching my son to defend himself... what kind of man I invited to my private parlor."

To his chagrin, Remus felt himself harden. Her tone was deliberately seductive and her gaze was frank and clearly interested in him. All he could think about though, was the fact she was married.

"W-what would your husband, what would Lucius think of your inviting me here?"

Her smile grew. "Lucius has his own interests; his own people he 'hosts' in his wing of the estate. Our interests rarely coincide. We share a fascination for the Dark Arts, a pride in our heritage and concern for our son."

Probably in that order, too, Remus thought now. He considered his situation. It was obvious Narcissa had more on her mind bringing him here, but was it a trap?

She knew he was Gryffindor, therefore unlikely to be a proponent of the Dark Arts, in fact, he taught students to defend against them. She knew he was not a pureblood, although that didn't seem to bother her as much as he'd thought it might. Was her interest in him purely licentious?

"So your interest in me--?" he finally asked evenly.

Narcissa eyed him before snapping her fingers. A small house elf appeared instantly.

"Mippy, bring food and tea. I'm famished. Aren't you?"

Remus shrugged slightly. "It is near lunch."

"So it is. For two, Mippy."

The house elf bowed and vanished without a sound. It was less than a minute later that she reappeared with a tray that she put on the low table, waiting to see if her offering would please her mistress.

"A good choice, Mippy."

The house elf smiled shyly and disappeared.

The tray was laden with small savoury sandwiches, a plate of fruit, a bowl of honey and a tea service for two.

"Join me, Remus," Narcissa said, before gracefully settling herself on some pillows by the table.

Remus did, carefully sitting with his legs crossed before him.

"I hope you enjoy lunch. Our kitchen elves make wonderful sandwiches."

He smiled and took a sandwich and put it on the small plate for him. He reached for the tea. "May I pour?"

"Please. I like it plain, no honey, no lemon, no cream."

"We have similar tastes, then," he noted, biting into the sandwich and finding that it was, indeed, delicious.

Narcissa eyed him almost mischievously before saying in a low tone, "Oh, I don't think you would taste at all like me."

Remus nearly choked on his sandwich. Narcissa found this amusing.

"You aren't often given compliments, are you Remus?"

He swallowed down a bit of tea and urged his brain to focus. He finally just shook his head.

"Why is that, I wonder? You are clearly intelligent, dedicated and kind."

"What makes you say these things?"

"They're true. You are a professor at Hogwarts, not something easy to achieve, as I am aware of the Governor's vetting process. You took time out from what is likely a busy schedule to assist me with my reference materials, not to mention time out to discuss my son with me at the school. And despite a clearly burning curiousity, you have yet to insist on answers. You're a gentleman, Remus. I admit to being ... charmed."

"I'm the one who's charmed, Narcissa. And flattered. But I... perhaps I should not say this--"

"You may speak freely in this room," she said sincerely.

"I'm not a believer in Lord Voldemort's reforms," he said carefully, fully expecting to be told to leave or even possibly escorted off the property.

She eyed him, then said evenly, "How boring life would be if everyone believed the same thing. Don't you agree?"

He nodded, uncertain of her emotional state. She merely continued eating and he relaxed slightly, and did the same.

To Lupin's surprise, after their impromptu meal, Narcissa led him to the desk and box. It was full of books.

"Those reference materials I mentioned. I'd like your opinion of them."

Lupin hesitated; some Dark Arts books did not take kindly to being handled. "Where did you obtain them?"

"I purchased them at auction from Dorcas Abernethy's estate sale," she replied. "They were touted to contain a great deal of esoteric information."

Lupin vaguely recalled that the prior generation of wizarding Abernethys did have their fair share of relatives in Azkaban for practicing Dark Arts.

"May I?" He pulled his wand out.

"By all means."

He cast a retegere charm, but aside from one book changing its title from "A Manual of Magical Asiatic Fungi" to "A Manual To Achieving Mind-blowing Fornication", nothing else happened.

Narcissa pulled that book out and raised a brow. Remus blushed slightly.

"How fascinating. I needed some light reading."

She said nothing else, merely taking the book and placing it on her lounge. Lupin considered this. He knew of few women who would treat such a subject so openly or blithely, and none were married.

"You may borrow the box if you like, Remus."

"Oh, well--"

"Or maybe you'd prefer for it to stay here?" She approached now. "You could come bring me each book back after examining it. It would give you an excuse to return... to see me."

Remus felt himself blushing more and paradoxically becoming quite erect. He cleared his throat.

"Whatever the lady prefers," he demurred.

"So polite. So respectful." She stepped up very close now and looked him in the eye. "Is that how you are all the time?"

"Narcissa..."

"I'd bet you'd be a surprise."

One of those manicured hands touched his chest and Remus groaned. This was wrong. She was married, he was teaching her son, and her husband was a known Death Eater!

"I... really should be going."

She did not argue nor even look disappointed. If anything, she looked amused.

"Take the box, Remus. Bring me back the books as you finish examining them." With that she turned and walked out of the room, saying without turning back, "Mippy will show you out."

All too soon he found himself outside the Malfoy estate with a box of Dorcas Abernethy's books.

* * *

He avoided looking at the books for some time. The next chance he actually had was when he was in the Infirmary recovering from the passing moon cycle. That also happened to be when he next saw Narcissa Malfoy.

She suddenly appeared at the Infirmary doorway and headed toward his bed.

"Remus! I came to speak with Severus about Draco. When I asked after you, I was given to understand that you were... sick."

Remus sat up a bit in the Infirmary bed, just avoiding a wince. He was still quite bruised and battered from his adventures the past three nights whilst in his transformed state. He wondered what Snape had actually told her.

"Yes. It, er, comes and goes."

"Well, you do look rather the worse for wear." She stepped up to him, all starched linen and expensive jewelry and traced the edge of the bruise on his cheek. "Poor man."

"I've had worse."

"No doubt. A man who teaches DADA must have experienced a lot more than a few bumps and bruises."

"May I ask, Narcissa, why my teaching DADA fascinates you so?"

She did not reply, but then any reply would have been interrupted as Madame Pomfrey stepped up, then noticed he had a visitor.

"Oh. I heard you speaking, but I wasn't sure if you needed anything, Remus."

"I'm fine, Poppy. I just have a visitor."

Poppy Pomfrey's expression barely changed, merely a sort of blankness that shifted over her face. Her voice grew flat. "So I see. Well, call if you need me."

She used her wand to pull the privacy screens around the bed and walked out.

"That woman is ageless. She was here when Lucius and I were in school. She's still here now and looks no different. Perhaps this is a mystery that should be investigated," Narcissa opined.

Remus chuckled. "Hardly. Witches don't seem to age much after they achieve 50. Between 50 and 100 they appear exactly the same. I've never been able to tell the difference between a witch of 50 and a witch of 100. After 100 they begin to mature yet again."

"Something to look forward to, I suppose," she said coolly.

"Yes. Wizards on the other hand, we appear to start aging at 30 and just keep on aging. Time does not suspend for us so much."

"My mother used to tell me tales, a myth, when I was a child that this was because women bore children in pain. In exchange, we were given longer lives and beauty."

"Well, that would explain it," he murmured politely.

"You don't believe in myths then, Remus?"

"I think myths have their basis in fact. The trick is separating the truth from the more fantastic elements."

To his chagrin, she perched herself on the edge of his bed. He found himself hardening despite himself. Was it a proximity spell, he wondered. Or perhaps she wore some subtle attraction potion?

"I see you were reading one of those books."

"Yes." Remus was glad for something else to focus on beside the warmth of her hip against his thigh. "Fascinating tome. A worthy addition to any collection about Dark Arts, actually. This book contains many good counter-curses." He handed it to her.

"Very good. I'll be sure my son reads it after I peruse it." She set it on the bedside table.

Remus considered this. "Does your husband not read these books?"

"Oh, Lucius prefers hands-on instruction. He has little patience for books. If there is anything worthy of knowing, he can easily hire the best to instruct him in it. Or so he is fond of saying."

"Ah."

Suddenly her hand was between his legs. Remus could not move. Her fingers idly stroked his now-throbbing erection.

"This is the only thing of which I prefer to be hands-on about."

He swallowed and that skillful hand wormed its way beneath the bed sheet and his nightshirt and those warm fingers grasped him by the root.

"I did read recently that sexual release is actually quite a useful adjunct to healing," she murmured before leaning in and beginning to kiss him whilst her fist began to stroke him.

Remus suddenly broke free of his paralysis, fully intending to pull her hand away, to stop her, to say he could not do such a thing. Instead, his hands grasped her by the upper arms and brought her closer, kissing her harder.

She moaned slightly and her hand moved faster, gripped a little tighter. Remus moaned, as well, and fought a sense of pained desperation.

How could he? What was wrong? Had it been so long since he'd had release that he... that he would...

Suddenly he clutched at her tightly, almost biting her as he began to ejaculate forcefully, semen pulsing onto his nightshirt and the sheets and her strong, elegant hands.

A low, pained moan escaped him as she finished him up, then moved back without a change in her expression as she reached for his wand on the bedside table and casually cleaned her hand. Then she offered him his wand with a smile.

He couldn't quite meet her eyes as he took it and hastily cleaned himself and the soiled shirt and sheets.

"Well, did it help?"

He looked at her then, noting her smile, which held nothing of victory or smugness as he'd half-expected. She did appear amused, but not at him. It was as if she expected him to find amusement in their actions, as well.

As if, he thought, they were naughty school children.

"I do feel rather more relaxed," he managed to state with a shy smile.

"I'm so glad," she said, genuinely pleased. Then she bent close again and kissed his cheek, murmuring, "Owl me when you've finished checking the next book. I'll come at once... or I'll send for you."

She pulled back, having managed to imbue her statement with more innuendo than Remus had heard in a year's time, a very knowing look in her eyes.

"Yes, of course," he found himself saying.

"I hope you get well soon, Remus. I look forward to more hands-on inspection of one of those... books."

He watched her leave, then sank back on the pillows and groaned.

* * *

The meeting was just as bad as he'd expected, but he had, in all good conscience, felt the need to call for it.

The Headmaster leaned on the desk before him. Severus Snape sat scowling to his left, but Remus was doing his level best to not show how ashamed and uneasy he felt in his presence.

"She's given you no indication of her intention beyond the sexual?"

Remus shook his head, fighting a blush.

"Headmaster," Snape murmured in his silkiest tone. "It's entirely possible that there is nothing inimical with this development. It could well be that Lupin has simply achieved the status of new conquest for Narcissa Malfoy. It is not without precedent. She's always had a fascination for the dangerous and exotic."

Remus glared at him and Albus sighed.

"Severus, there's no call for being rude."

"I'm merely stating a fact, Headmaster. Narcissa finds interest in men... occasionally women... and, frankly, toys with them for a while until she tires of the novelty. Lucius is well aware of her tendencies. He has his own extra-marital 'interests'."

"Have you been an interest of Narcissa's, Severus?" Remus bit off with irritation.

Snape stared at him with disdain, but Dumbledore sat up.

"Yes, Severus. I think I would like the answer to that question, also."

To Remus's amusement, the sallow Potions Master flushed. "My... dalliance with Narcissa was many a long year ago. I'd barely begun working here."

"Ah, so she was married already," Remus smiled.

"Marriage was never going to stop either of those two from doing anything -- or anyone -- they desired," Snape ground out with irritation.

"Forgive me, Severus, but I had cause to ask," the Headmaster insisted. "Is it possible that Mrs. Malfoy might place Remus in a compromising position? Try to discredit him before the board of governors? Use this situation against him in any way?"

Snape scowled. "Unlikely. While she mouths the usual Pureblood platitudes, that is mostly to appease Lucius. She does encourage Draco to mouth them, as well, but that is because she is well aware of their station and her duty to her husband. The Pureblood movement can't be seen to hold anything but a united front."

"What of Remus's 'special' status, shall we say?"

Severus shook his head. "Meaningless. If anything, I would think that would intrigue her. She may already be aware of it."

"You told her." It was not a question, but to his surprise, Severus frowned.

"Of course not. I had no cause to."

Remus considered him and decided he was sincere. Snape continued with his assessment.

"Narcissa is fairly straightforward in these sorts of dealings. She will be discreet, except, typically, when she begins the dalliance. She may proffer gifts. She rarely requires concessions from her party of interest. She is not likely to seek information beyond that of a personal nature. She will give clear indication when she wishes to discontinue the alliance."

"Alliance?"

"You're dealing with a Slytherin, Lupin. We think in terms of alliances."

"That's not very romantic."

Snape gave him an even stare. "Perhaps. Though, in my experience, it can be most exhilarating."

Remus swallowed, thinking back to her seduction of him in the Infirmary with only the thin privacy curtains between them and the rest of the room. She had not even cast silencing charms or any sort of ward.

"Thank you, Severus, you may go."

Snape glanced at the Headmaster, then shrugged slightly and stood, inclining his head at Dumbledore. "Headmaster."

He paused by Remus's chair. "A word to the wise, Lupin -- never disparage her son, and never alert Draco in any way to your relationship. She would not harm you, but Lucius would and Draco worships his father."

"Anything else?" Remus asked evenly, disliking the feeling of being lectured.

"Narcissa and I remain friends, Lupin. She feels free to discuss everything with me."

With that, he strode out of the room. After he'd left, Dumbledore turned to the pensive werewolf.

"I cannot tell you what to do, my boy. However, I can say that if you intend to continue this... dalliance... with Mrs. Malfoy, then I would appreciate hearing about anything she may tell you regarding the Death Eater doings."

"I hardly see that coming up, Albus."

"You never know what may happen between bed partners, my boy. I've been surprised by each and every one of mine. My current one still surprises me."

Remus smiled, delighted. "It does me good to hear that, should I reach your venerable age, I might still find partners for such activities."

Albus beamed and twinkled. "It's not increasing age, my boy, that is one's downfall, it's decreasing energy."

* * *

When Remus was nearly done reading and checking the next book, he sent a school owl to Narcissa. To his surprise, the owl returned that same night, a small scroll attached to its claws, a deep mauve satin ribbon holding it closed.

As soon as he touched the ribbon, the scroll crisply unfolded and an elegant hand had written: I'll be delighted to learn your opinion on "From Pastilles to Poisons" this Friday evening over dinner. 7 pm.

A stylized N finished the message.

Remus sighed. Dinner with Narcissa, and anything else that might ensue was only two nights away.

It appeared he had made his decision and was committed.

That Friday, after his last class Remus hurried to his rooms to prepare. He had little in the way of dress clothes, but he'd received top marks in Transfigurations. A few quick taps of his wand whitened the aged and yellowed look of his shirt, darkened his faded brown wool suit and shined his shoes.

He did not bother to make them look new. For one thing, he never liked to present a false front; having to live as a werewolf was bad enough. For another, Narcissa had already seen his regular clothing and must have guessed that his finances were scant. She would get suspicious if he showed up looking like something from Muggle Savile Row.

One concession to vanity he did allow himself was the application of cologne from the small bottle he'd acquired as a gift many years ago. He'd only worn it for special occasions, as the still half-full bottle attested. He smoothed a small amount along his jaw and neck and wiped his fingers along the sides of his suit.

He stopped by the greenhouse on his way out of the castle, profoundly grateful the faculty and students were dining in the Great Hall, and after procuring a single perfect amaryllis, headed to the apparation point outside the castle gates.

Soon Mippy was leading him to Narcissa's sumptuous reading room. The tiny silver dragon zoomed close then flew away, recognizing him. He smiled at Narcissa, who stepped up, dressed in an ivory silk dress shot through with gold threads.

"I hope you don't mind, but I thought we'd eat here," she said, stepping up to him.

"Not at all. I'm not one to stand on ceremony." He extended the flower to her with a slight bow. "A flower for milady."

Narcissa raised a brow, studying the large, lovely flower. She snapped her fingers and Mippy reappeared. "A vase for this."

The elf quickly disappeared then returned with the amaryllis now ensconced in a lovely fluted glass vase that she placed on a small table set for dining.

"It's lovely, Remus, and I appreciate the bold sentiment."

He made another slight bow and stepped closer, now holding out the book. "This should make another fine addition to your collection. There are some potions in there I'm sure Severus would find of interest."

"I'll have to tell him, but I'll have you know, I didn't do badly at potions myself." She had stepped up as she spoke, taking the book, but also assessing him up and down in a speculative fashion.

"I'm afraid I didn't take Newt-level Potions."

"What a pity." She took his hand and led him toward the table. "Why don't we sit and eat and we can discuss our old school days?"

She put the book by her plate and they began to eat. The plates were already full -- there was a bowl of some sort of stew that Remus soon realized was oyster, lamb chops in a sizzling garlic sauce, salmon mousse with strange, but tasty little breadsticks, asparagus with small onions and some amazingly fizzy champagne. He had a lot of champagne to wash down the strongly flavoured food and soon relaxed, between the drink and Narcissa's inconsequential talk and mild questions.

They were laughing over some incident or other they both recalled from Charms class, Narcissa's peals of laughter sounding almost school-girlish, when Remus realized he was hard as a rock, his penis pressing almost painfully into his trouser placket. Was it the champagne?

He looked at the table and realized Narcissa could have placed aphrodisiac in nearly anything... or everything.

"Narcissa... did you--" he frowned. He did not wish to cause offense, but he also disliked having been drugged when he had already committed himself to action. He was also fighting extreme fuzziness of his thoughts.

"Yes, Remus? Did I what?"

His thoughts were truly addled, he decided, for he suddenly stood, displaying his blatant erection to her. Her eyes widened, but she said nothing, waiting for him to speak.

"This? Did you do this?"

"My dear Remus... if I did, I have to state I'm quite flattered."

He frowned. That wasn't the response he was expecting.

"Forgive me. This isn't like me." He started to turn away, but soon felt her hands against his arm, stopping him.

"Remus. My dear Remus, don't fight it. I feel the same way."

"Narcissa," he groaned.

"I like the way you say my name," she whispered back before pressing her lips to his.

It was no good, no use fighting. Remus took her in his arms and fiercely kissed her back.

He opened his lips and thrust his tongue into her mouth, fully expecting her to stop him, to pull back and slap his face and claim she was disgusted, that it was all some strange joke, but all she did was thrust her own tongue against his.

He heard plates clanging and crashing in the dim distance, but didn't realize he'd pushed her back against the table until he felt the table edge against his thighs. She was perched on the table with her legs spread and he was between them, still kissing her and holding her. His hardness was pressed between them and she was clutching at him now, trying, he realized, to remove his shirt.

With an animalistic growl, he tore it free and allowed her to paw him, to scratch along his hairy torso with her long, elegant nails as he kissed his way along her face to her ears, her neck. When her nails raked over his nipples he growled again and ripped her dress off.

Narcissa shrieked, but did not cower and he savagely swept everything left off the table to lay her down and lick her from neck to navel, pausing in between to suckle and nibble on her nipples.

She shrieked again and again, but held his head to her, and somewhere in the dim recesses of his logical mind, Remus realized it was his name she was calling. That same part of his mind hoped the room was soundproofed, but beyond that couldn't be bothered to stop and find out.

Soon his ravening mouth reached her center and he sucked, licked, and toothed her clit as her hands clutched at his hair and she screamed. Then he let his nose rub at her pleasure centre whilst his mouth and tongue worked at the liquid that leaked from her pussy, snarling with the urgency this gave him.

His prick felt enormous, hugely engorged, painfully trapped in his trousers. One swift yank took care of that as his trouser seams were torn asunder and his heavy erection swung free. He never wore underpants; he could rarely afford them.

The tiny, still-sane part of him wondered at his animalistic passion and his disregard to his pitiful clothes, but he ignored it.

What mattered was before him -- the scent of a willing female and his own dripping musk.

With a lunge upward that dragged his tongue from clit to collarbone, he slid his aching staff deep inside her and began to thrust as she panted out his name and clutched at his powerful shoulders.

He had never had such a passionate encounter. Remus hated his animal side; he disliked comparisons and he disliked how it took over his nature every month. This, however... having given in to his passions he found that the fire consumed him, made him feel everything as if it was magnified ten times, and he lost himself to it.

* * *

It wasn't the water, but her hands stroking his scars that roused him.

Remus found himself reclining in a large bathing chamber that rivaled the one in the Prefect's bathroom at Hogwarts. Narcissa was snuggled to him; her head on his shoulder and her long fingers were becoming acquainted with his body, with the long, striated scars on his torso and powerful legs. Those hands drifted and pressed and tested and soothed.

Soon they moved to his slightly sore, but definitely interested manhood.

"Oh..."

"I told you it was... decadent," Narcissa murmured dreamily, fingers stroking his scrotum now.

He looked around and had to agree. From the reading room, he had not been able to gauge the size of the bathroom, but this was more than just huge, it was huge and opulent.

Dozens of jets were within the tub itself, dozens more were above, but shaped like vines. A small waterfall to one side completed the picture, splashing and frothing into the tub.

Lush greenery overpowered the room, along with rainflowers, bromeliads and orchids that filled the room with their heady fragrance. Bunches of heliconia clustered by the high windows. The place reminded him of a tropical forest.

"Glad you decided to change your mind?" she murmured into his ear, nipping at the lobe and capturing his full attention.

"Oh? Uh, yes." Remus blinked, fighting to remember. The only thing that came to mind was the dizzying memory of him thrusting repeatedly into the very willing Narcissa... on the table?

He frowned. That had been decidedly ungentlemanly of him.

"What's wrong, Remus?"

He looked to her. Her pale, pert face and still-taut body pressed against him made his insides clench.

"I'm sorry, Narcissa, for earlier. That... that's not usually like me. I... I hope I didn't hurt you."

She got a truly lascivious smile and lay her head back against his shoulder, shaking it and nuzzling him.

"Not at all, Remus. I appreciate... passion." She sat up a bit to look at him and added, "Passion without pain. Pleasure and passion only. There was no pain in what you did, Remus. I wanted you as badly as you wanted me. That is a rare and wondrous gift."

He considered this, and then gently kissed her. She readily reciprocated and soon they were bobbing slightly in the water and caressing one another.

His mind was clearer now, and he couldn't help but think about what her words meant. Passion without pain? Had this woman experienced pain instead of pleasure? She had said she wanted him as badly as he'd wanted her. Was she... taken... by someone, by Lucius, when she wasn't desirous of attentions? This thought made him unaccountably angry. No woman should be treated that way!

"I love the way you growl," she said.

Remus blushed a bit to realize he had, in fact, been growling slightly, but not so much in pleasure as in anger. He decided not to think about Lucius Malfoy or else he might well do something entirely unwise. Although, a tiny part of his mind asked him how much more unwise it was to be sleeping with Malfoy's wife.

"You might enjoy this," Narcissa whispered, grabbing his hand and making him sit in a different part of the tub. To Remus's surprised pleasure, a jet of warm water pulsed right against the base of his erection and on his scrotum.

Then Narcissa straddled him and took him inside her, settling down to bob atop him, her breasts in his face. He obediently began to suckle them and caress them as she gently milked his prick with her tight passage.

She moved against him for what seemed like ages as the jets of warm water continued to pulse against his scrotum and the base of his cock, making him groan. It was quite heavenly. Narcissa moaned, too, as he gently nibbled on her hardened nipples.

"Narcissa!"

She clenched tight at his pleasured outcry and began to climax. Her internal muscles gripped him tightly and between that and the underwater massage, he began to come deep inside her.

"Oh..."

"Yes," she murmured, gently disengaging and moving to sit by him. "That was quite lovely."

She sighed, a bit unhappily.

"I'm afraid it's getting late, though. You should really be going."

Remus caught his breath, nodded. It wasn't in him to argue.

"As the lady wishes," he murmured instead, and leaned over to kiss her once more, before moving out of the tub.

He was gratified to find towels waiting for them, and even more gratified to find his clothing, pressed, clean and, most importantly, repaired of the damage he'd inflicted.

"Please thank Mippy for me."

"It's part of her job," Narcissa shrugged. "She's been with my family for years. She came with me as part of my dowry."

"Ah." Remus did not argue, merely getting dressed and then turning back to Narcissa who was watching him, dressed now herself in a long, ice-blue velvet robe.

"Mippy will show you out," was all she said, although she said it with a smile.

He nodded and left the estate.

* * *

When Dumbledore fire-called Snape, Remus groaned.

They had been discussing his evening -- and uncharacteristic behaviour -- in hushed tones appropriate to the gravity of the discussion as well as his deeply shamed state of mind. Snape, he knew, would feast on his humiliation. Still, he truly did want to know what had happened and Albus's exam of him had revealed no suspicious substance, either drug or aphrodisiac.

"Joy. Forced once again into discussing the werewolf's love life," Snape scowled after having been filled in. "How much lower can my lot in life become?"

"Severus, this doesn't help," Albus tutted.

"Believe me, Severus, I take no pleasure in having to disclose such private matters," Remus added.

"Well, what did you eat?" Snape asked now, clearly amused despite his prior comments.

Remus described their repast and Severus shook his head grimly, lips pursed in a contemplative expression.

"I don't know what to tell you, none of those foods interact badly with the healing potions Poppy and I have been giving you."

"What about alcohol?" Remus pressed. "I did have rather a lot of champagne."

Severus snorted in comprehension.

"What?"

"Most alcohol won't, but champagne, and especially the kind the Malfoys can afford would interact with the muscle relaxant potion you were given. The liqueur de tirage elves use is often infused with other elements such as carnation and primrose syrup to add flavour to the champagne. Those, combined with the effects of the muscle-relaxant potion, can bring about extremely amorous feelings, shall we say," Snape replied with a smug expression.

Remus winced. "Oh, hell."

"Yes. Well. Now that you have an excuse for your behaviour and a bit of knowledge for future consideration, I will be heading back to the dreaded mid-year grading. Not all of us have time for such... dalliances."

Snape exited via the floo, leaving a somewhat dejected Remus with Dumbledore who patted him on the shoulder.

"It's nothing to be ashamed of, son. We are all of us, from time to time, fools for love."

"That's just it, Albus... this isn't love. It's just..."

Dumbledore raised his brows and waited.

"Well, it can't be love. This was our first dinner together. She's married, a pureblood and a Death Eater. I'm a werewolf."

"It's just a turn of phrase, my boy."

Remus nodded.

"I shouldn't have gone through with it. I knew better and I still..."

"Whatever misguided pap the Ministry cares to spout, Remus Lupin, you are still human. Werewolf or not, you are prone to all the failings of the flesh."

Remus nodded again, sighing. Throughout his life, since boyhood, no matter what, this man had always made him feel better about himself, about his fate. He gave Dumbledore a wan smile.

"Thank you, Albus. I appreciate the ear... and the advice."

"Anytime, my boy."

* * *

When he finished the next book, Remus sent another letter. He took care to make sure it was well before the full moon.

This time he was not uncontrolled, but gentle and tender and Narcissa was the one who became a writhing mass of uncontrolled impulses under his ministrations.

He left her devastated by his kisses, his hands, his body. She could think of nothing but his touch, and practically begged for him to come back to her the next weekend.

He could not, though. It was his moon time.

Their relationship continued throughout the school year and Remus knew it would have to end before summer, since he knew full well her son would be returning home.

"I could send him to my uncle in France," Narcissa opined, relaxing against his warm naked body on the lounge that, he'd been delighted to learn several months ago, widened to comfortably hold them both.

"Hm?"

"Draco. I really don't wish to do without you this summer, Remus."

"Narcissa." He sighed. How to tell her? "I... I don't think that's wise. It's only two months."

"The mere thought of two months without you, of having to deal with my husband and spouting his Pureblood nonsense for appearances sake drives me mad!"

He turned to her and she clung to him. He frowned.

"Narcissa... we've never spoken of this, but... how is it that you don't hold your husband's, well, political views. You've been quoted in the Prophet--"

"That rag prints what money tells it to print. They don't care if the money comes from Fudge or August Longbottom or Lucius," she said with contempt. "As for me... my father wanted me to marry for money, so I did. Lucius was the best of the offers I received. He gave me what he promised my father, wealth, position, a family, and a proud old name. In return I promised him the prestige of my family's lineage, a son and never to interfere with his interests, most especially never to speak against him in public, and to raise our son to follow in his footsteps. He also has certain... appetites I can, of my own choosing, either assuage or willfully ignore as he assuages them on his own. In all these things, I have been a dutiful wife."

Remus nodded. "I see."

"He whole-heartedly believes in the Pureblood way, Remus. I don't. I don't believe the Muggles aren't dangerous, but neither do I believe they should be exterminated."

"And what of other creatures? What of... centaurs?"

"Intelligent beasts deserve respect and care."

"What of beasts like... werewolves?"

She made a face. "Have you been listening to what Greyback is saying to the media? My husband knows him, he and his league of beasts. They are not intelligent, I say. They are savages."

Remus swallowed. "I see."

"Of course," she added after a moment. "They can't truly help how they are, can they? They did not choose that life. But those who follow Fenrir..."

"I'd rather not discuss him, if you don't mind. That man has always made me... uncomfortable."

"On that we can agree," she said with a smile. She toyed with his brow and relaxed against him again. "I suppose if you are busy this summer, then I can manage to wait the two interminable months before I can see you again."

Remus said nothing, but he nodded, and that was enough to content her.

* * *

The following month, she was in her room, penning a letter to Remus when the yelling alerted her to the summons before even Mippy could fearfully appear at her elbow.

"Mr. Lucius is wanting Ma'am."

She sighed, took Mippy's hand and ordered, "Take me to the hall outside the drawing room."

The elf apparated them both there and she strode into the room just as Lucius was sticking his head out the door to bellow again.

"Oh, there you are! We need to talk."

He strode back in without even waiting to see if she followed.

"That Muggle-loving fool is in for it now. That madman has hired a werewolf to teach our son!"

Narcissa frowned. "What?"

"That idiotic DADA professor that belittled our Severus -- he's a werewolf, per Draco."

She paled. "He... a werewolf?"

"Yes. It's a wonder Severus didn't murder him for his audacity!"

Narcissa made a pacifying sound, not really thinking, her mind whirling at a furious pace. "Now, now... there are times Severus's pompous nature could stand to be trimmed back a bit. The way Draco described the incident, it was simply a bit of harmless fun."

"Really, Narcissa, what a thing to say about our good friend. Apparently, the werewolf was discovered when he neglected to take the Wolfsbane that our Severus was taking pains to make for him, and nearly ate the famous Harry Potter. What a pity they discovered him before then..."

"Lucius." She made a moue at him and he relented.

"Yes, of course, dear. Always the niceties, but honestly -- a werewolf!"

"Well, can't you fire him?"

"Of course we can and we would, but he resigned already."

"Then what is the meaning of all this lack of gentility that disturbed the peace of the house?"

Lucius grit his teeth, put down the letter and sighed. "There are times, my dear, when I wonder if we hold the same values."

She looked at him then. "Lucius, you know as well as I that I have no love for what we, on occasion, must do or profess to. I see no reason to put on a show in the privacy of my own house."

"Yes, but doesn't this upset you? Truly? Our son--"

"Draco has learned more this year in his classes, DADA included, than in the last two. I would say... let this poor man go, he resigned, it won't happen again because they know now that you will be watching. Write a strongly worded letter and have your feelings made a statement of record. That is what I would suggest."

Lucius nodded thoughtfully. "What you say is true. But I still find it abominable."

"My dear, even the Dark Lord courted the werewolves before his unfortunate demise," she pointed out.

"They ignored him," Lucius sneered.

"Yes, but he still respected them, respected their ferocity. Perhaps... perhaps we should, too?"

He brought her to him, holding her close.

"Next thing you'll have me inviting a werewolf to dinner."

"Well, at least the house elves wouldn't have to make anything special. I'm sure a fresh kill from the daily hunt would suffice," she said lightly.

Lucius chuckled. "We wouldn't even have to dress it."

Narcissa laughed, too, a blithe sound that hid her feelings as her husband began to gently kiss and nibble at her neck.

* * *

The full moon had been over three days before and Remus was feeling more like himself again. He had taken to walking about the neighbourhood near Grimmauld Place, since he was rooming with Sirius now, building up his strength. He still had a bit of a limp, although he did not need his cane anymore.

He was resting at a park bench, watching a myriad of pigeons feasting on a discarded and overturned bucket of popcorn, probably a child's forgotten treat, when an owl flew up to him and alighted on his arm. A deep mauve satin ribbon held closed the tiny scroll tied to its claw. He removed it and the owl flew off.

A pained feeling swept through him. He had not contacted Narcissa since the news of his affliction had become common knowledge two months before. It wasn't a howler, at least, he noted, but he still was reluctant to read whatever she had to say.

He unrolled the scroll and read: I'll be delighted to learn your opinion on the Daily Prophet's article on Werewolf Legislation this Friday evening over dinner. 7 pm.

A stylized N finished the message.

He surreptitiously pulled out his wand and cast retegere on the scroll, but nothing inimical or surprising happened. He put the wand and the scroll into his pocket.

He went back to his contemplation of the pigeons.

* * *

He had not dressed in his finest this visit, she noted, although what had passed for his finest before was material Lucius would consign to his ragbag.

It did not bother her, however. Narcissa well understood the meaning of necessity; not all of her family had money, many were quite poor, in fact. When one could barely afford food, fancy clothing was not something one spent money on.

"I wasn't sure you'd come."

"Nor was I," he admitted, stepping forward, still limping a bit, and then sitting on one of her chairs with an apologetic smile. "Forgive me. I still have difficulty standing."

"Was it bad?"

He frowned. "What?"

"Your last moon time. Was it bad?"

"I've had worse. It's the transformation that ... frankly, it stresses the joints of my body quite badly. The time it takes for me to recover varies with whatever happens during that time."

"You have no memory of it." It was not a question.

He nodded in agreement. "Fragments at most. Like a bad dream."

"What of Wolfsbane?"

"I no longer have a supplier and without a job, I can no longer afford it."

Narcissa said nothing for a while, and then snapped her fingers. Mippy instantly appeared, curtseying.

"Mippy, draw a very hot bath with muscle soaks added."

The small elf nodded and rapidly vanished. The bathroom door remained closed, but despite his acute hearing, Remus heard no sound of running water or anything else. The bathroom must have a silencing charm, he decided, and then considered that the whole room must be well warded against most intrusions, considering what Narcissa tended to use it for.

"You needn't have gone to the trouble."

"It's no trouble. It's obvious you're in pain."

"Well... thank you then."

"It's my pleasure," she smiled. Then she stepped up and with an inquiring look added, "At least, I hope it will be?"

"Narcissa... when I asked you of werewolves, you called us beasts... unintelligent."

"No. I called Greyback and his ken beasts and unintelligent, and they are. They choose to be involved in their treacherous doings to the detriment of all. But others such as you, who are so horribly cursed and yet simply struggle to survive despite the laws and the prejudices... you I have no quarrel with. I never have."

Remus sighed, and finally nodded. "Then I'd be a fool to say no to your offer. I have to say this, though: I've truly nothing to offer you in return, Narcissa."

"You give me pleasure, Remus. Pleasure without pain. You give me passion. You have nothing but yourself and the clothes on your back and you still offer it all. This humbles me."

"I'm still a werewolf."

"We are both of us, creatures of the dark."

* * *

Three years later

Remus was seated at the park near Grimmauld Place again, staring at the stars this time. So much had happened. So much had changed.

Sirius was gone. Dumbledore was gone. Severus was a wanted man, in hiding with Draco. Narcissa was missing. Lucius was in Azkaban. The young and misguided Nymphadora Tonks was attempting to make him into something he was not and he had little heart to naysay her or to encourage her. He was going to have to make her see his heart was just not in it.

His heart was too heavy with pain, with loss, with regret.

Narcissa was missing...

A standard courier owl swooped up suddenly and perched on the bench beside him. He noted the scroll attached to its leg and retrieved it. The owl swiftly flew off without waiting for a response. His heart sped up as he unfolded the scroll and recognized her writing. There had been no mauve ribbon, but then, Remus supposed a person on the run would have better things to waste time on.

The scroll read: I would be delighted to discuss creatures of the dark and the fine art of camouflage with you. This Friday evening at 7p. The Shrieking Shack.

A stylized N finished the message.

Remus smiled for the first time in weeks, eyes full of happy tears, and he sent a silent prayer of gratitude up to the constant stars on getting word about his love... his Narcissa.

END

Note:
- Amaryllis means splendid beauty or pride in the language of flowers.
- in HBP, Snape mentions elf-made wine. I 'borrowed' this concept for the elf-made champagne.

Posted: 29 March 2006

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