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Let Sleeping Dogs Lie	By : Billy BadEnd Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Lucius/Remus Views: 6209 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter in any of it's forms, nor do I own it's characters. I make no money from this story.

Chapter List
- 1-Let Sleeping Dogs Lie
- 2-Chapter 2
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- 2
It was almost easy.

Remus almost managed to get to and from his dormitory without running into one of his new friends. He almost managed to escape without needing to explain his bruise, at least until the following day. Despite containing himself in his dormitory, four-poster drawn, holding his breath each time footsteps were heard on the stair, despite making it out of the room late into the evening, silent as the grave, despite taking the utmost care and consideration to not allow himself to get caught, he did.

“Wh-what're you up to, mate?” came the slightest of trembling voices from the corner of the common room, making the hair on the back of Remus' neck stand on end. Clasping a hand to the chilled patch of skin, he stumbled in a half-circle, brown eyes flicking wildly before they settled on the form that was sitting in front of the fire, classwork spread in a messy heap on the table in front of him. Of all simpering creatures, it was Peter Pettigrew's beady eyes staring up at him, though the werewolf knew quite a bit better than to see his presence as nothing to worry about. After all, anything that he said henceforth would hit James' ears by breakfast the next morning, guaranteed.

“I could ask you the same question.” Remus managed on his second attempt, the first finding his voice gravelly and unintelligible. The mousy boy looked particularly miserable in response, sulking over what was obviously his overdue homework.

“Charms work, mostly. I just can't get this spell to work right...” he grumbled, but the realization that Remus was dreading quickly dawned on his face, and he turned to his companion. “You- you can help me, right, Remus? James says you figured this spell out ages ago.” By some miracle, the werewolf managed to get his mind to race fast enough to come up with an excuse, a hopefully viable reason as to why he was about to run out of the dormitories, despite the risk of getting in trouble, something that Remus J. Lupin prided himself on not doing.

“I would, but I just finished writing a letter to my Mum; still rather ill, you know, and it's urgent...” Pettigrew's face fell, but it was easy for Remus to stay firm on this matter, the apologetic smile still on his lips when those dark eyes glanced back up at him.

“Oh... well, don't let me keep you, then,” came the begrudging response, and Remus bolted, making a point to escape before Peter realized that he didn't have any parchment on him at all, closing his ears to the call that echoed after him, asking what had happened to his face.

By the time he reached the dungeons, the werewolf couldn't tell if his heart or feet were pounding faster. Eight minutes... nine. He was going to be at least ten minutes late, according to his father's pocketwatch, and terror coiled in his gut at what his self-declared tormentor was going to do for each second that ticked by.

The first of his punishments came as he rounded the last corner leading to his destination, running one moment and dangling in the air the next, clawing at the strong hand clasped around his throat. Piercing silver eyes glared down at him, eying him like vermin, like he was contemplating whether or not to tighten his fingers, snap the first-year's neck as Remus was terrified that he could do far too easily.

He hit the stone floor a moment after his vision went black, spots of light dancing across his vision, tailbone aching from his third time falling to the ground that day. It took a moment for his mind to come back to him, followed by his vision, then the realization that he had just tuned in to the words that had been spilling from Lucius' mouth.

“...isn't that right?” came the question with a sneer, though what he was right about, Lupin never found out. He gaped slightly, moving to get awkwardly to his feet, dusting off his robes with trembling hands.

“Isn't... i-isn't what right...?” he asked timidly. Without giving him even a moment to think, the snake-head of the cane struck into his shoulder with a fierceness that rivaled its living replica. The werewolf cried out in a sound that more closely resembled a whimper, more animal than human, and kept him from raising himself higher than his knees. His breath stuck in his throat when Malfoy bent at the waist, nose only an inch from his own, smooth, silvery hair pooling over one shoulder and effectively hiding them from one length of the hallway; the expression on his face spoke of the smoldering rage that he was containing. Rage that Remus had tipped off earlier, rage that he was afraid would soon be expressed in more than just the bruise on his cheek.

“You will address me as Sir, you loathsome beast,” he snarled, breath hot across the boy's mouth, making him quiver in the strained position he'd sat himself in. The snake's head made itself known once more, causing Remus to whimper yet again as it danced up the exposed flesh of his neck. “And you will listen when I speak to you, or you will be punished. I trust that you don't want to be in more trouble than you've already gotten yourself into?”

“N-no--” the brunette whined, wincing as the silver was pulled away from his face, brown eyes meeting grey ones.

“'No, Sir',” the Slytherin snarled, dropping a hand onto Remus' mop of hair, forcing his chin to his chest, a sadistic grin pulling up the edge of one of his lips. “And you are not to look me in the eyes; dirty halfbreeds such as yourself don't deserve that honor.”
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Let Sleeping Dogs Lie