Remus/Draco almost-smut
Dec. 9th, 2003 01:31 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
donnaimmaculataRuthless!Remus has been around quite a lot recently. About time, too. Would you believe that when I first started reading HP fanfiction, I seriously wondered whether it was an established mythological fact that "werewolves mate for life"?
An excellent example of Ruthless!AndYetCanon!Remus is![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
mousapelli's The Most Riduculous First Name I've Ever Heard. After reading the fic, I forced a Remus discussion upon mousapelli, the result of which can be summarised in a few words: Remus is a friggin' psycho. Forget Snape and Sirius. You want a deranged man? Go for Mr. Lupin.
Some weeks ago I was indulging in readingessayel's fics on ff.net, and apart from laughing my head off at her parodies, I realised that I very much enjoyed the (non-sexual) interaction between Remus and Draco. There don't seem to be many Remus/Draco fics around, and so I had to write my own. It is not pretty, and not quite as smutty as one might wish for. I can't bring myself to write inter-generation sex, I'm afraid.
After the Storm has Passed
The aftermath was a mess.
Having found himself holding Harry back, lifting a curse from Neville, not killing Lucius Malfoy even though his hex slammed the Death Eater into the dais, and keeping Moody alive until the arrival of the Magical Health Damage Reversal Squad, Lupin was glad about the necessity to control himself and to stay focused. It prevented him from smashing Harry's skull against the stone wall, killing the kid in passing just as Harry had killed Sirius.
By the time he realised that the medi-witches and wizards were largely disoriented by the whole scenario, and highly disconcerted by the alleged appearance of Him-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named in the entrance hall of the Ministry building, he was already busy taking charge of the whole proceedings and bringing some structure into the chaos, which was only enhanced by the sudden appearance of Daily Prophet journalists. Dumbledore has disappeared somewhere with Fudge, and Lupin cursed his luck to be the last man standing when even trained aurors had been put down. It didn't help that the arriving members of the Magical Law Enforcement knew that he was a werewolf, and the fact that he was crouching beside the still figure of one of the best known aurors didn't exactly make him appear trustworthy. Torn between exasperation and hysterics, he snorted at the thought that Sirius's presence would have complicated matters infinitely, and that at least in death, Black had shown some sense of timing.
His arrival at St. Mungo's happened in a blur; the bright light in the hospital hit his eyes after the dimness of the underground chambers, healers were shouting instructions to each other, Molly and Bill Weasley appeared from nowhere, the first one crying silently, the second one pale, yet steady. Lupin talked and nodded and patted Molly comfortingly and watched Bill's freckled fingers shake ever so slightly against his mother's arm.
They weren't allowed to see the children before the healers' final diagnosis, however, and Lupin was standing by the window in the oppressive waiting room, and watching a pale spider crouching in its web on the other side of the window. When Arthur arrived, he removed his hand from Molly's shoulder and excused himself very calmly. He felt that it was only a matter of seconds before he would snap and tell her that, unlike Sirius, her children were still alive, and that, unlike Sirius, her children had rushed to the Ministry without any evidence of what was going on, acting in exactly that brainless manner which she'd always criticised about her cousin.
He left the room quietly and made for Cagliostro's Magical Coffee Machine he had seen around the corner. And there he saw Draco.
The boy was paler than usual, his face a nasty shade of grey, only his cheekbones highlighted in an angry red colour. A member of the MLE was eyeing Draco suspiciously from his place by the door on the far left, and Lupin was struck by the realisation that Draco's father had also been brought to St. Mungo's after having been on the receiving end of his hex. He stopped in his steps, intending to turn around and disappear before the boy would spot him, but his sudden movement attracted Draco's attention and he turned towards Lupin, eyes widening in surprise and then narrowing with hatred.
"You," he hissed through clenched teeth. "You!"
Lupin sighed.
"You!" The boy was advancing on him, his voice rising, quivering with a mixture of pain and hatred and humiliation. "You did this to him!"
The MLE wizard guarding the door - Lupin guessed that Lucius Malfoy must have been lying there - made a sudden movement as though he intended to come over and deal with the boy, but Lupin stopped him with one look and a slight shake of the head.
"Calm yourself, Mr. Malfoy," he said in his best reasonable teacher voice he knew used to drive Sirius mad. "There is no need blaming me. Your father's role in tonight's events was more than questionable."
Draco stopped mere inches before him and charged, eyes blazing, aiming his fist against Lupin's shoulder, but Lupin caught his wrist effortlessly.
"Don't make a fool of yourself, Draco," he said almost softly, pushing the boy backwards and out of sight of curious eyes, until he was hidden from view, cornered by Lupin in the small space between the coffee machine and the walls. "Surely, your family can't afford another scandal tonight."
It took a moment for that statement to sink in, but Draco's breath hitched and his eyes brightened suddenly, and Lupin thought with satisfaction that he had hit where it mattered.
"You hurt my father, I'll kill you," the boy said, but his voice lacked the malice from only seconds before; it sounded pale, like an ill child's. "You and... Potter."
"I can't hinder you from attacking Harry, Draco," Lupin realised that he was almost enjoying himself. 'Great, getting a kick out of tormenting a 15-year-old,' he thought, and added, "but you shouldn't forget that he was fighting Lord Voldemort," Draco's wrist still wrapped between his finger, he felt the boy's pulse jump at the mention of the name, "face to face tonight. He might be a tad more difficult to deal with than you'd expect."
Lupin felt a dull satisfaction by the sight of Draco's flushed face and overbright eyes, clear indicators that the boy was close to tears. He wondered lazily whether he'd actually enjoy making the kid cry.
Draco made a half-hearted attempt to wriggle out of Lupin's grip on his wrist. "Let me go, you hurt me," the boy hissed.
"Only if you promise that you won't do anything stupid," Lupin lifted his hand, pulling Draco's arm on chest-height. Draco had grown since he had seen him the last time, Lupin noticed. The boy was almost as tall as himself now. The thin, pale hand was clenched into a fist, knuckles white.
"I will kill you, werewolf." A whisper this time, barely audible.
"Yes, you said so before," Lupin agreed. "I don't think this will happen, though. My lot are pretty hard to kill, you see."
Draco struggled again, weaker, less determined. Lupin shifted slightly as a medi-witch passed by, thus bringing his body in closer contact with Draco's. The boy froze.
"Do you know what happened tonight?" Lupin asked conversationally. "Did anyone tell you?"
"You attacked my father!"
"This is not quite correct, I'm afraid. Your father attacked Harry, and I happened to be in his way." The pleasant teacher voice was steady in place. Lupin saw Draco's eyes flash white with anger, saw his jaw set, felt the slim wrist in his hand tense as Draco clenched his fist even tighter. "I am sorry for having caused you pain," he continued driving words in sharp as nails, "but it was inevitable. I couldn't leave Harry to Voldemort's servant."
Draco spat.
Shaking with anger, he had missed Lupin's face by inches; his eyes burning like pale coals. Lupin leaned in slightly, looming about the boy's slighter figure.
"You aren't an idiot, Draco, so why are you acting like one?" His thumb slid over the heel of Draco's hand in an almost caressing gesture. "Do you really think that supporting Voldemort will gain you any benefits?"
"Stop saying his name!" Draco's whole body was shaking convulsively. "You've got no right to say his name!"
"I'll be the judge of my own rights, if you please." Lupin locked his gaze with the boy's. "And you haven't answered my question. Do you really think that Lord Voldemort is the answer to all your questions? Think before you answer," he tugged Draco's arm lightly. "And think for yourself. I'm not interested in your father's views, I know them well enough."
"The Dark Lord will get rid of the likes of you!" spat Draco, his eyes bright, cheeks flushed. "He will kill you all!"
"On the contrary," there was definite amusement in his voice now. "The Dark Lord is quite keen on cooperating with the likes of me. It is the Ministry who want to get rid of werewolves. You've got it all wrong."
"Fuck you!" spat Draco. "Fuck you!"
Lupin sighed. "I think this conversation is over. We aren't getting anywhere." He let go of the thin wrist, but before he could as much as turn around, Draco's hand had grabbed a fistful of his robes and the boy pulled him back in.
"Don't go, werewolf!" It was meant to be a snarl, but the grey eyes were just a fraction too wide, the grip on his robes a bit too desperate, and Lupin stared down at the flushed face in amazement. "Not before-"
"Not before what, Draco?"
"Not before you... apologise. For my father," whispered Draco.
"There is nothing I have to apologise for. Your father tried to murder my friend's son. I couldn't let it happen."
"You lie!" It came out as a strangled cry. "You lie! You lie! You lie!"
Lupin caught the boy's arm in mid-punch, pulling sharply, and Draco tumbled towards him. "That's enough! Stop behaving like a five-year-old. It doesn't become you."
"I'm not five years old," the voice came out muffled through Lupin's robe.
"Then stop-" Lupin froze. The struggle had brought Draco flush against him, and he could distinctly feel something hard pressing against his thigh. Draco stopped struggling and gave a sound that could have been a choke or a sob.
"I'm not five years old," he repeated in a firmer voice.
"Mr. Malfoy, stop this pathetic display at once!" Lupin commanded firmly, trying to free himself from the boy's grip. Draco wriggled against him, pushing his hips closer.
Lupin closed his eyes momentarily when the boy's erection pushed firmly into the junction between his hip and thigh. "That's enough!"
Holding the thin arm in a tight grip, he grabbed Draco's other hand in the attempt to untangle it from the fold of his robe. Draco pressed his forehead against Lupin's shoulder, the heat radiating from his face palpable even through the layers of clothing. His hips insistently pushed closer, and Lupin took a half-step back. "Tell me, Mr. Malfoy, what exactly are your intentions, hm?" He asked, softly.
Draco gave a small choke and released Lupin's robe. His hand dropped, and in the next moment, Lupin's spine straightened as the thin hand was pushed against his crotch. Draco gasped. "Oh."
"Oh, indeed, Mr. Malfoy," said Lupin, careful not to move and let any passers-by getting a full view on the scene. "What did you expect? Did you think your pitiful little show would titillate me?"
The grip on his crotch tightened. Draco cupped Lupin's cock through the material, moving his heated hand around and around. Lupin felt hot breath against his neck, and a wave of nausea rolled over him.
"That won't do," he said, mindful to hurt. "You don't turn me on, Mr. Malfoy."
Draco gasped again, louder. Lupin gripped the thin shoulder, but before he could push back, he heard the thin, keening whimper against his ear. "Please!"
Lupin hesitated.
"Please, please, please," the boy chanted. The slim hips were moving in smaller and smaller circles, and Draco's erection was burning Lupin through the layers of his robe and trousers. "Please!"
Lupin closed his eyes, his hand still resting on Draco's shoulder. He felt sick and dizzy, and the clumsy, keen hand on his cock was causing him pain, pushing and pressing and yanking desperately, as though trying to make up for the lack of experience with sheer force. Lupin snorted; he had never felt more limp. Draco's breathing quickened and his hips were thrusting forward; fast, and shallow thrusts that made his erection bump painfully into the tender spot beneath Lupin's hip. Lupin shifted slightly, offering the outer side of his thigh instead. The persistent nausea, coming and going in waves, robbed him of the energy to fight the boy's attempt of masturbating himself on him. He averted his head to escape the penetrating scent of Draco's sweaty hair.
Draco moaned, and Lupin's hand came up in a flash, cupping the back of the boy's head and pressing his face into his own shoulder to stifle the sounds. He felt the vibration of muffled moans, the heat of Draco's breath soaking the material of his robe, and thought with frightening clarity that should the moisture of Draco's breath reach his skin, he would throw up on the spot.
His cock was in agony as Draco's fingers clenched and unclenched around it, and Lupin grabbed the thin wrist harshly, forcing the grip open and the hand away. Then, with a palpable groan, Draco thrust his hips against his thigh one final time and Lupin felt heat spreading between their thighs. He let go of the boy's head, wiping his hand on his robe in one smooth motion, and pulled back before Draco's sperm could stain his clothes.
"Are you feeling better now, Mr. Malfoy?" Lupin said in a calm, unconcerned tone.
Draco didn't answer, busying himself with his robes, pulling the dishevelled garments back in place.
"Don't you clean yourself off? Surely, it must be uncomfortable."
"They took my wand," Draco said in a monotonous voice. He hadn't looked up yet.
Lupin stared. "Who took your wand?"
"The MLE." Draco had lifted his head, looking defiantly into Lupin's eyes. "Before I was allowed to see father." His face was flushed and sweaty, his eyes dark, pupils wide and open.
Lupin nodded curtly. He pondered for a moment, then asked, "Was it worth it, then?"
"Yes." The boy didn't look away, nor did he ask what Lupin meant. Lupin raised one eyebrow, impressed.
"You better go now. Your mother's waiting."
Draco slunk past him, his head hung and eyes averted. Lupin watched him join his mother at the elevator, and tapping his wand against the coffee machine, he thought, detached and impassive, 'Your aunt killed your uncle tonight. One day, it will be you who'll pay for it.'
**********
It took me ages to write an ending. I've tried several variants, none of which was fully satisfying. I don't like this one, either, but it was the best one I could come up with.
An excellent example of Ruthless!AndYetCanon!Remus is
mousapelli's The Most Riduculous First Name I've Ever Heard. After reading the fic, I forced a Remus discussion upon mousapelli, the result of which can be summarised in a few words: Remus is a friggin' psycho. Forget Snape and Sirius. You want a deranged man? Go for Mr. Lupin.Some weeks ago I was indulging in reading
essayel's fics on ff.net, and apart from laughing my head off at her parodies, I realised that I very much enjoyed the (non-sexual) interaction between Remus and Draco. There don't seem to be many Remus/Draco fics around, and so I had to write my own. It is not pretty, and not quite as smutty as one might wish for. I can't bring myself to write inter-generation sex, I'm afraid. After the Storm has Passed
The aftermath was a mess.
Having found himself holding Harry back, lifting a curse from Neville, not killing Lucius Malfoy even though his hex slammed the Death Eater into the dais, and keeping Moody alive until the arrival of the Magical Health Damage Reversal Squad, Lupin was glad about the necessity to control himself and to stay focused. It prevented him from smashing Harry's skull against the stone wall, killing the kid in passing just as Harry had killed Sirius.
By the time he realised that the medi-witches and wizards were largely disoriented by the whole scenario, and highly disconcerted by the alleged appearance of Him-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named in the entrance hall of the Ministry building, he was already busy taking charge of the whole proceedings and bringing some structure into the chaos, which was only enhanced by the sudden appearance of Daily Prophet journalists. Dumbledore has disappeared somewhere with Fudge, and Lupin cursed his luck to be the last man standing when even trained aurors had been put down. It didn't help that the arriving members of the Magical Law Enforcement knew that he was a werewolf, and the fact that he was crouching beside the still figure of one of the best known aurors didn't exactly make him appear trustworthy. Torn between exasperation and hysterics, he snorted at the thought that Sirius's presence would have complicated matters infinitely, and that at least in death, Black had shown some sense of timing.
His arrival at St. Mungo's happened in a blur; the bright light in the hospital hit his eyes after the dimness of the underground chambers, healers were shouting instructions to each other, Molly and Bill Weasley appeared from nowhere, the first one crying silently, the second one pale, yet steady. Lupin talked and nodded and patted Molly comfortingly and watched Bill's freckled fingers shake ever so slightly against his mother's arm.
They weren't allowed to see the children before the healers' final diagnosis, however, and Lupin was standing by the window in the oppressive waiting room, and watching a pale spider crouching in its web on the other side of the window. When Arthur arrived, he removed his hand from Molly's shoulder and excused himself very calmly. He felt that it was only a matter of seconds before he would snap and tell her that, unlike Sirius, her children were still alive, and that, unlike Sirius, her children had rushed to the Ministry without any evidence of what was going on, acting in exactly that brainless manner which she'd always criticised about her cousin.
He left the room quietly and made for Cagliostro's Magical Coffee Machine he had seen around the corner. And there he saw Draco.
The boy was paler than usual, his face a nasty shade of grey, only his cheekbones highlighted in an angry red colour. A member of the MLE was eyeing Draco suspiciously from his place by the door on the far left, and Lupin was struck by the realisation that Draco's father had also been brought to St. Mungo's after having been on the receiving end of his hex. He stopped in his steps, intending to turn around and disappear before the boy would spot him, but his sudden movement attracted Draco's attention and he turned towards Lupin, eyes widening in surprise and then narrowing with hatred.
"You," he hissed through clenched teeth. "You!"
Lupin sighed.
"You!" The boy was advancing on him, his voice rising, quivering with a mixture of pain and hatred and humiliation. "You did this to him!"
The MLE wizard guarding the door - Lupin guessed that Lucius Malfoy must have been lying there - made a sudden movement as though he intended to come over and deal with the boy, but Lupin stopped him with one look and a slight shake of the head.
"Calm yourself, Mr. Malfoy," he said in his best reasonable teacher voice he knew used to drive Sirius mad. "There is no need blaming me. Your father's role in tonight's events was more than questionable."
Draco stopped mere inches before him and charged, eyes blazing, aiming his fist against Lupin's shoulder, but Lupin caught his wrist effortlessly.
"Don't make a fool of yourself, Draco," he said almost softly, pushing the boy backwards and out of sight of curious eyes, until he was hidden from view, cornered by Lupin in the small space between the coffee machine and the walls. "Surely, your family can't afford another scandal tonight."
It took a moment for that statement to sink in, but Draco's breath hitched and his eyes brightened suddenly, and Lupin thought with satisfaction that he had hit where it mattered.
"You hurt my father, I'll kill you," the boy said, but his voice lacked the malice from only seconds before; it sounded pale, like an ill child's. "You and... Potter."
"I can't hinder you from attacking Harry, Draco," Lupin realised that he was almost enjoying himself. 'Great, getting a kick out of tormenting a 15-year-old,' he thought, and added, "but you shouldn't forget that he was fighting Lord Voldemort," Draco's wrist still wrapped between his finger, he felt the boy's pulse jump at the mention of the name, "face to face tonight. He might be a tad more difficult to deal with than you'd expect."
Lupin felt a dull satisfaction by the sight of Draco's flushed face and overbright eyes, clear indicators that the boy was close to tears. He wondered lazily whether he'd actually enjoy making the kid cry.
Draco made a half-hearted attempt to wriggle out of Lupin's grip on his wrist. "Let me go, you hurt me," the boy hissed.
"Only if you promise that you won't do anything stupid," Lupin lifted his hand, pulling Draco's arm on chest-height. Draco had grown since he had seen him the last time, Lupin noticed. The boy was almost as tall as himself now. The thin, pale hand was clenched into a fist, knuckles white.
"I will kill you, werewolf." A whisper this time, barely audible.
"Yes, you said so before," Lupin agreed. "I don't think this will happen, though. My lot are pretty hard to kill, you see."
Draco struggled again, weaker, less determined. Lupin shifted slightly as a medi-witch passed by, thus bringing his body in closer contact with Draco's. The boy froze.
"Do you know what happened tonight?" Lupin asked conversationally. "Did anyone tell you?"
"You attacked my father!"
"This is not quite correct, I'm afraid. Your father attacked Harry, and I happened to be in his way." The pleasant teacher voice was steady in place. Lupin saw Draco's eyes flash white with anger, saw his jaw set, felt the slim wrist in his hand tense as Draco clenched his fist even tighter. "I am sorry for having caused you pain," he continued driving words in sharp as nails, "but it was inevitable. I couldn't leave Harry to Voldemort's servant."
Draco spat.
Shaking with anger, he had missed Lupin's face by inches; his eyes burning like pale coals. Lupin leaned in slightly, looming about the boy's slighter figure.
"You aren't an idiot, Draco, so why are you acting like one?" His thumb slid over the heel of Draco's hand in an almost caressing gesture. "Do you really think that supporting Voldemort will gain you any benefits?"
"Stop saying his name!" Draco's whole body was shaking convulsively. "You've got no right to say his name!"
"I'll be the judge of my own rights, if you please." Lupin locked his gaze with the boy's. "And you haven't answered my question. Do you really think that Lord Voldemort is the answer to all your questions? Think before you answer," he tugged Draco's arm lightly. "And think for yourself. I'm not interested in your father's views, I know them well enough."
"The Dark Lord will get rid of the likes of you!" spat Draco, his eyes bright, cheeks flushed. "He will kill you all!"
"On the contrary," there was definite amusement in his voice now. "The Dark Lord is quite keen on cooperating with the likes of me. It is the Ministry who want to get rid of werewolves. You've got it all wrong."
"Fuck you!" spat Draco. "Fuck you!"
Lupin sighed. "I think this conversation is over. We aren't getting anywhere." He let go of the thin wrist, but before he could as much as turn around, Draco's hand had grabbed a fistful of his robes and the boy pulled him back in.
"Don't go, werewolf!" It was meant to be a snarl, but the grey eyes were just a fraction too wide, the grip on his robes a bit too desperate, and Lupin stared down at the flushed face in amazement. "Not before-"
"Not before what, Draco?"
"Not before you... apologise. For my father," whispered Draco.
"There is nothing I have to apologise for. Your father tried to murder my friend's son. I couldn't let it happen."
"You lie!" It came out as a strangled cry. "You lie! You lie! You lie!"
Lupin caught the boy's arm in mid-punch, pulling sharply, and Draco tumbled towards him. "That's enough! Stop behaving like a five-year-old. It doesn't become you."
"I'm not five years old," the voice came out muffled through Lupin's robe.
"Then stop-" Lupin froze. The struggle had brought Draco flush against him, and he could distinctly feel something hard pressing against his thigh. Draco stopped struggling and gave a sound that could have been a choke or a sob.
"I'm not five years old," he repeated in a firmer voice.
"Mr. Malfoy, stop this pathetic display at once!" Lupin commanded firmly, trying to free himself from the boy's grip. Draco wriggled against him, pushing his hips closer.
Lupin closed his eyes momentarily when the boy's erection pushed firmly into the junction between his hip and thigh. "That's enough!"
Holding the thin arm in a tight grip, he grabbed Draco's other hand in the attempt to untangle it from the fold of his robe. Draco pressed his forehead against Lupin's shoulder, the heat radiating from his face palpable even through the layers of clothing. His hips insistently pushed closer, and Lupin took a half-step back. "Tell me, Mr. Malfoy, what exactly are your intentions, hm?" He asked, softly.
Draco gave a small choke and released Lupin's robe. His hand dropped, and in the next moment, Lupin's spine straightened as the thin hand was pushed against his crotch. Draco gasped. "Oh."
"Oh, indeed, Mr. Malfoy," said Lupin, careful not to move and let any passers-by getting a full view on the scene. "What did you expect? Did you think your pitiful little show would titillate me?"
The grip on his crotch tightened. Draco cupped Lupin's cock through the material, moving his heated hand around and around. Lupin felt hot breath against his neck, and a wave of nausea rolled over him.
"That won't do," he said, mindful to hurt. "You don't turn me on, Mr. Malfoy."
Draco gasped again, louder. Lupin gripped the thin shoulder, but before he could push back, he heard the thin, keening whimper against his ear. "Please!"
Lupin hesitated.
"Please, please, please," the boy chanted. The slim hips were moving in smaller and smaller circles, and Draco's erection was burning Lupin through the layers of his robe and trousers. "Please!"
Lupin closed his eyes, his hand still resting on Draco's shoulder. He felt sick and dizzy, and the clumsy, keen hand on his cock was causing him pain, pushing and pressing and yanking desperately, as though trying to make up for the lack of experience with sheer force. Lupin snorted; he had never felt more limp. Draco's breathing quickened and his hips were thrusting forward; fast, and shallow thrusts that made his erection bump painfully into the tender spot beneath Lupin's hip. Lupin shifted slightly, offering the outer side of his thigh instead. The persistent nausea, coming and going in waves, robbed him of the energy to fight the boy's attempt of masturbating himself on him. He averted his head to escape the penetrating scent of Draco's sweaty hair.
Draco moaned, and Lupin's hand came up in a flash, cupping the back of the boy's head and pressing his face into his own shoulder to stifle the sounds. He felt the vibration of muffled moans, the heat of Draco's breath soaking the material of his robe, and thought with frightening clarity that should the moisture of Draco's breath reach his skin, he would throw up on the spot.
His cock was in agony as Draco's fingers clenched and unclenched around it, and Lupin grabbed the thin wrist harshly, forcing the grip open and the hand away. Then, with a palpable groan, Draco thrust his hips against his thigh one final time and Lupin felt heat spreading between their thighs. He let go of the boy's head, wiping his hand on his robe in one smooth motion, and pulled back before Draco's sperm could stain his clothes.
"Are you feeling better now, Mr. Malfoy?" Lupin said in a calm, unconcerned tone.
Draco didn't answer, busying himself with his robes, pulling the dishevelled garments back in place.
"Don't you clean yourself off? Surely, it must be uncomfortable."
"They took my wand," Draco said in a monotonous voice. He hadn't looked up yet.
Lupin stared. "Who took your wand?"
"The MLE." Draco had lifted his head, looking defiantly into Lupin's eyes. "Before I was allowed to see father." His face was flushed and sweaty, his eyes dark, pupils wide and open.
Lupin nodded curtly. He pondered for a moment, then asked, "Was it worth it, then?"
"Yes." The boy didn't look away, nor did he ask what Lupin meant. Lupin raised one eyebrow, impressed.
"You better go now. Your mother's waiting."
Draco slunk past him, his head hung and eyes averted. Lupin watched him join his mother at the elevator, and tapping his wand against the coffee machine, he thought, detached and impassive, 'Your aunt killed your uncle tonight. One day, it will be you who'll pay for it.'
**********
It took me ages to write an ending. I've tried several variants, none of which was fully satisfying. I don't like this one, either, but it was the best one I could come up with.
