Forever After
by Laura Smith

Hermione sank down onto the couch with a soft sigh, lacing her hands together in her lap. Remus glanced at her covertly, smiling as she sighed again a moment later, adding at ouch of dramatic flair as she let her shoulders rise and fall with the sound.

"Is there something wrong?"

"No." She sighed again. "Not wrong."

"Then I can go back to my book?"

She let her eyes dart over to the open pages then looked away. "Sure. I suppose."

He laughed out loud, closing it and setting it aside. "Out with it."

"With what?"

"With whatever it is that isn't bothering you."

A smile played at the corner of her mouth and she shrugged. "It's Halloween."

"It's been coming all year. I'd think you'd be prepared for it."

"Well, that's the problem. I was prepared. I made plans; Ron and I were going to go to a Muggle costume party."


"Ron's backed out. He's promised to do something with Harry. So I've got no one to go with and an extra costume. Not to mention the fact that my costume isn't nearly as cute without Ron's."

"Am I following this properly?" Remus asked with an arched brow. "Are you asking me to go to the party with you?"

"Would you, Remus?" She turned and faced him, her eyes alight. "Ron's so terrible with the Muggle stuff, I think Harry's just his excuse, but I really want to go."

"Will his costume fit me?"

"I think so." She smiled widely. "You'll really go with me?"

"Yes, I'll really go with you."

"Oh, Remus!" She hugged him quickly, impulsively. "You're the best!"

He stilled, accepting the gesture, too surprised to return it. He finally responded, patting her lightly on the back. Hermione released him and sat back, her eyes shining. "I'll meet you back here in a couple of hours with your costume."

"I'll be waiting."


"No." Remus shook his head determinedly. "Absolutely not."

"Please, Remus?"

"No." His amber eyes flashed hotly. "Absolutely not. I cannot emphasize how much I refuse to wear that costume."

"It's not as if I chose it with you in mind." Hermione crossed her arms over her chest.

"Well, I could discuss with you how horrified I am with your choice of costumes regardless of who you had it in mind for." He held up the costume in question. "Without even bringing my own personal issues into it, you're simply perpetuating stereotypes."

"It's a fairy tale, Remus."

"It's a true story, Hermione." He tossed the costume onto the bed and glared at her defiantly. "And not one that I'm going to help spread misinformation about."

"It's a costume!"

"I spend more than enough of my life as a wolf involuntarily, I'm not about to dress up as one for fun!"

Hermione's face froze, her features set angrily. "You promised."

He held her fierce gaze with his own. "I'm sorry."

She set her jaw, her pulse jumping. "Fine. I'll just go alone." She spun on her heel and marched from the room, her blood red cape fluttering in the air behind her.


"You're a chicken, you know that?"

Remus looked into the mirror at Sirius's mocking face. "I don't recall asking your opinion."

"Since when have I ever waited to be asked?"

"Sod off, Sirius."

"Oh." He clasped his hands together over his chest. "You wound me, Moony. You really do."

"I thought you promised never to haunt me, Padfoot."

"I'm not haunting. I'm taunting. It's different." Sirius smiled. "Besides, you're the one who enchanted the damn mirror. It's really no one's fault but your own. You came looking for me."

"Oh, shut up."

"She's awfully upset."

"I'm not going to dress up as a damn wolf."

"You wouldn't be a wolf though," Sirius reminded him. "Besides, she's not safe going by herself. Just because Voldemort's gone..."

"I know, I know. There are more than enough still devoted to his ways to merit concern."

"And she will go alone."

"I know."

"And," Sirius grinned devilishly, "she looked awfully cute in that costume."


"Oh, please, Moony."

"She's young enough to be my daughter."

"She's not though." Sirius watched him with hooded eyes. "She looked good. I know you noticed."

"I did not!"

Sirius's fingers stroked the mirror, the reflection of Remus's cheek. "You need to notice, Moony."

"Not Hermione, I don't!"

"Somebody." His fingers continued moving and Remus closed his eyes, remembering the feel of the caress. "Remus..."

There was a soft silence, painful with the weight of sadness, distance and death. Finally Remus sighed and bowed his head, resting his forehead on the vanity, his hands braced on either side of it. Sirius swallowed and nodded, stepping back in the mirror's reflection.

"I'll leave you alone."

Remus reached out instinctively, his fingers pressed to the slick surface. "Don't."

"I've already left you, Remus. I just can't leave you alone." He grinned though it didn't reach his eyes as Remus looked up at him. "I think it's my stubborn nature. Have to have the last word and all that."

"That's what you think it is?"

Their gazes held for a long time and Sirius swallowed, the unfamiliar sting of tears in his eyes. He blinked them away and shook his head. "You know what it is, you stupid git."

"Oh yes. I just love to hear you insult me."

"Knew you were a glutton for punishment."

Remus smiled. "I charmed the mirror, didn't I?"

"Let me go, Remus."

He shook his head. "Can't."


"Both." He watched as Sirius moved closer, imagined the pooling of his breath on the mirror's surface. His fingers traced the line of Sirius's face. "Come back to me."

"Go to the party. You're a dashing wolf."

"I am, am I? What is it that makes me so dashing? The slobber that pools on my blue-black lips? The lolling tongue? Perhaps the overdeveloped need to sink my teeth into someone's flesh?"

"You're really turning me on, Moony."

Remus barked laughter and shook his head. "You're horny even in death, are you?"

"It's all because of you." Sirius managed a smile though the sight of it pained them both. "Go to the party. Don't spend the entire night in here talking to your dead friend. You're still alive. You're still living."

"So are you."

"As good as dead, Moony. Only you hanging on keeps me here. Not that I mind, mind you. I rather like this little room," he looked at the ever-familiar walls of Grimmauld Place. "I mean, I really didn't appreciate it when I used to live here, did I? Where else can you find such opulence mixed with such decay? Only the Blacks can do it all in such style, huh?"

"Making the best of a bad situation does not become you, you know." Remus tapped the glass. "You're much sexier when you pout and grouse about things."

"True, but then, if I'm being dead sexy," his eyes flashed at the pun, "then I'm never going to get you out of the room and off to that party with Hermione, am I?"

"She's probably already gone."

"No." Sirius shook his head. "She's not. She's hoping desperately that her wolf in shining armor will change his mind and come along. But you've probably not got much time left. She'll leave, she'll go out at night into London all on her own, she'll be mugged or attacked or worse and you'll find her in the morning, looking awfully pale in that blood red cape."

"Thanks for the added commentary." Remus sighed and looked at the costume on the bed. "Didn't think you went in for all the Divination stuff."

"You'd be surprised what being dead does for your acceptance of stuff like that. Really gives you a sense of doom." Sirius chuckled, his eyes watching Remus as he stripped off his shirt, replacing it with the one from the costume. "You need to eat more. No wasting away. Go to Molly's and eat once in a while."

"I eat."

"Damn metabolism."

"Well, you don't often see a fat wolf, do you?" Remus shucked off his pants and slipped into the ones Hermione had provided. "I feel ridiculous."

Sirius looked him over. The costume was slightly small, obviously designed more for Ron's build than Remus's. It clung to various curves and muscles, the sleek fur dark gray with silver streaks running through it. "Merlin."

"What?" Remus looked behind him and growled at the tail then back at Sirius. "What? I look ridiculous, don't I?"

"You look like, if I were still alive and corporeal, you'd be out of the costume, face down on the bed, begging me to go deeper."

"Oh." Remus exhaled. "Oh."

"On second thought, don't go. Don't go near anything male or female or somewhere questionably in between. Don't go around anyone that might consider shagging a fun and viable activity. Don't leave this room. Strip out of the costume, lock the door and lay on the bed where I can see you touching yourself."

"Sirius," Remus groaned, smoothing his hands down the front of the costume, the hard bulge of his erection showing even through the thick fur.

There was a long silence as they stared at each other. Sirius finally turned away, disappearing from sight, leaving behind him only the brusque admonition, telling Remus to go away.


"I look ridiculous."

Hermione stopped, her whole body stiff with righteous indignation.

Remus sighed softly, suppressing his smile. "I'll go."

"I don't want you to. I'd rather go alone."

"If that were the case, you wouldn't have asked me in the first place." He let the corner of his mouth curl up. "I want to go."


"Not completely. I do want to go. I'd just rather go dressed as almost anything else."

"It's a theme party. Fairy tales and nursery rhymes." She shrugged. "It was either this or Little Bo Peep. And Ron wasn't about to go as a sheep."

Remus chuckled. "No. I can't imagine that would have appealed to Ron." He inhaled deeply, letting his breath out on a sigh. "Turn around, Hermione."



She stiffened at the authoritative tone, blind instinct in obeying a teacher's voice forcing her to turn. "I don't...oh my." Her eyes roamed over his body, the costume like a second skin. "Oh. My."

"It might be a good thing that Ron couldn't make it. I don't know that this costume would have fit him."

"It's charmed to fit the wearer." Her eyes dropped lower and she blushed, her face almost matching her cape. ""

"Where is this party?"

She forced her eyes up to his, the flush deepening in the face of his smile. "One of my co-worker's house."

"What time?"

"Um..." She shook her head and took a deep breath, forcing her eyes closed. "We're actually late." She met his gaze slowly and managed a smile. "There's a cab that's meeting me at the end of the block in about ten minutes."

"Because you knew I'd agree?"

"No, because I thought the party started later." She shrugged. "And I figured I should calm down before I left the house."

"I didn't mean to make you angry."

"You didn't." She looked away from him, something of the truth hidden in her eyes. "Come on, Mr. Wolf."

Remus chuckled and grabbed his cloak, slipping out the door behind her. She walked a few feet in front of him, her stride as determined as ever. Sirius's voice echoing in his head, he smiled, admitting at least to himself that he had noticed how she'd looked in her costume. The deep red cape hung to mid-calf, her legs encased in black stockings that smelled silky. Her skirt was short enough that Molly would no doubt have conniption fits, especially if Ron were still actually escorting her.

"Damn you, Padfoot," he whispered under his breath as she noticed the cab and started waving, rushing forward. Her skirt moved with her hips and he felt his body react. "I thought you'd cured me of this sort of thing years ago."

He sprung forward, loping toward the cab as Hermione waved to him from the open doorway, the streetlights bathing her exposed cleavage in milky light.


"Who are these people again?"

"Most of them are Muggles that I work with. They know about the Wizarding world, since we're all in the liaison office, though I don't actually know how many of them believe it. I occasionally get someone who asks me to do a magic trick or two, but it's pretty rare."

"Let me guess," Remus pointed to a blond standing beside the punch bowl. "He asked you if he could saw you in half?"

"Actually, he asked me if I wanted him to show me how to make two people disappear."

"And you said?"

Hermione giggled quietly, curling into the couch cushions. "I told him I'd be happy to make him disappear if he could actually find someone willing to go with him."

"Are you that cruel to all the men that try to pick you up?"

"Only the ones that use horrible and horribly outdated lines to do it. I'm not going to fall into bed for an old joke."

Remus felt heat flood his skin and he finished his drink in a long swallow. "And you shouldn't." He looked around the room, needing a diversion. "Who's that?"

"That's Jeffrey." She leaned closer to Remus, her drink tilted precariously. "He's in charge of procurement."


"They send him out for doughnuts." She giggled. "He doesn't like Wizards. Doesn't trust them."


"Older brother was killed by Peter in the whole Sirius incident." She took a drink. "Plus, he asked me out, thinking I was a Muggle. Told him I was seeing someone. He didn't believe me until Ron and Harry walked in."


"Also didn't help when Ron hung him from the ceiling when he assumed Harry was my boyfriend."

"And who's that?"


"The blonde looking at me like I'm dessert."

"My boss," she sighed. "ZoŽ Gunderson. From Australia. Went to school down there. Doesn't like me."

"Why not?" He took another drink, somewhat surprised to find his glass empty. He took a new one from a waiter who appeared in front of them, snagging another for Hermione as well.

"School rivalry or something." She took the drink, draining half of it. "And she thinks I got my job because I know Harry."

"Harry seems something of a burden."

"Only in the eyes of others," she assured him smoothly, no animosity in her tone. "Once they get to know me, they learn I'm formidable in my own right."

He chuckled and finished another drink, watching as Hermione wrinkled her brow as she stared down into her drink. "What?"

"Is it really a true story?"

"What?" Remus blinked, the distance between them slightly hazy. "'S what true?"

"Little Red Riding Hood."

"Oh yes. Mostly." He turned back to his drink. "It's not like the Muggle tale though. No big bad wolf eating grannies or anything."

She turned toward him, her knee and shin pressed against the side of his thigh. "What is it like?"

"Well," he cleared his throat, his voice falling into its familiar pattern. "It's..." He stopped at Hermione's amused look. "What?"

"Nothing. Professor Lupin."

"Ah. Right." He chuckled and held out his hand. "Would you like another drink? That should help alleviate some of the professorly tone, no?"

"Bring a bottle. That way you can tell me uninterrupted." She smiled as he walked away, watching the fur cling to his body, watching the rest of the room, male and female, turn their eyes to him, caught up in his natural predatory grace. She shivered suddenly, as unable as the rest of them to look away, blushing as he turned to her and raised his empty glass in salute.

"Where'd you find him, Hermione? Boyfriend find someone better to do?"

She shrugged casually, finishing off her drink. "Ron didn't want to be surrounded by a bunch of self-righteous Wizards, half of whom think they're better than the Muggles they work with. Interesting, that. Given that that's exactly what Voldemort thought."

"Does he know what a bitch you are?"

Hermione watched Lupin's eyes narrow as he started back, sensing the tension swirling around her. She marveled at the changes in his features, the sudden awareness of danger that quickened his step, his gaze. "One thing you don't understand about Remus. Bitch isn't an insult."

"Remus? Remus Lupin?" The other witch's eyes widened. "Oh my..."

"Hello, love." He sank down onto the couch, closer than he'd been before, his thigh against hers, his fingers threading with hers, pulling her hand onto his thigh against the rough fur. "Who's this?"

"Little Bo Peep. You'll notice she's lost her sheep. Or couldn't coerce someone into following her." Hermione smirked. "I think she was just leaving."

Remus hid his grin until the other witch walked away. "Ouch."

"Athena. Definitely not the Goddess of Wisdom. More the Goddess of bitchiness personified." She started to move her hand, stilling as he tightened his grip. Without saying anything he held up the bottle, waiting for her to extend her glass. "Within seconds, the entire room is going to know exactly who you are."

"Was it a secret?"

"I wasn't flaunting you."

He leaned in, his breath warm on her ear. "I think I might like to be flaunted."

She laughed softly, leaning into him. "You're terrible."

"You're blushing."

"Because you're terrible." She pushed away from him and settled back on the couch, loosening her grip on his hand. "Now, tell me the story."

Remus shrugged and nodded, refilling his glass and setting the bottle on the floor at his feet. Taking a sip, he sighed and closed his eyes for a moment before turning toward her, fur catching on the material of her skirt. "Once upon a time..."


"Some of them do start out that way," he assured her with a grin. "Admittedly, not this one."

She scratched his leg through the costume. "Tell me the story."

"Fine." He leaned his head on the back of the couch, watching her with his golden eyes. "First of all, her name's a complete misnomer. She wasn't little. She was in her late teens, early twenties. Old enough to know better."

"Better than what?"

"Who's telling this?"

"Sorry." Hermione took a sip of her drink and moved closer to him, one of her legs draped over one of his, her fingers stroking through the fur pelt of his costume. "Go on."

"She was in the forest gathering firewood for her mother when she sort of slipped away through the trees. She'd been forbidden to leave the house, since she was somewhat...well, she was involved with someone her parents disapproved of."


"Married man."

"Not grandmother?"

"Married men don't go well in fairy tales." He took another drink and closed his eyes, letting the gentle stroke of her fingers take him for a moment. "Anyway, she ran off, grabbing a red cape that was drying on a nearby line."

"The cape wasn't even hers?"

"She wasn't exactly a...good girl, our Miss Red."

"Apparently not."

"So she runs off to meet him and they..."

"There's no wolf in this story."

"I..." Remus snapped his mouth shut then sighed, taking another, longer drink. He blew out a short breath then wrapped his arm around her, pulling her in, closing the distance between them. "She was gorgeous. Long strawberry blonde hair that she wore tied up in a high ponytail, letting it swing with her hips when she walked. Legs that went on for miles beneath the shortest skirts she could get away with without being called indecent. Every man in the village wanted her. More than one or two had her."

"Definitely not a good girl."

"She met this man. He was dark, brooding, handsome, rich. He scorned everyone as beneath him, berated them all, especially the bar wenches. He used them like his own scratching posts, having sex with them just behind the door leading into the back of the bar, letting their grunts and groans of pain and pleasure be heard by everyone. Red, suited for nothing else, was one of those girls. But he never touched her."

"Why not?"

"Because, as dirty as she was, as easy as she was, she looked like heaven itself. She had lips so red and full that you wanted to bite them like a juicy strawberry and feel the warm heat pour down your throat, tasting of the sun. He wanted her, but he knew she was a match for him. He also knew that if he slept with her, had sex with her, did anything with her, his wife and his mother would make his life a living hell. He could fuck anyone he wanted, so long as it wasn't someone he wanted."

Hermione's lips were parted, her pink tongue light and inviting against her red lips. "And he wanted her?"

"Everyone wanted her," Remus assured her, his fingers playing with her hair. "He wanted her badly."

"Oh." Her nails dug into the fur, finding his skin, her palm sliding along the sleek surface. He cast a quick glance down, noting the hard tips of her nipples beneath the low cut blouse, the rapid rise and fall of her chest as her breathing changed.

"One night, late, Red was walking home from the bar, hips swaying, hair swaying. She was like an invitation for sex, all wrapped up in sweet smelling flesh. He followed her, caught her, thrust her against a wall and told her he was going to fuck her. She slapped him, told him she wouldn't spread her legs for the likes of him then kissed him until he begged her to stop."

Hermione's head lay on the back of the couch next to his, the moment closed around them, the story woven in the air trapped between them. "Did she?"

"She did. She let him go and walked away, skirt swinging in the breeze."

"What then?"

"The next night he showed up at the pub and ignored her completely. When it came to closing time, he paid the owner enough money to get him to leave then he and Red had sex again and again on the dusty floor, both of them coming hard and fast and deep and over and over again until they were spent and exhausted. Then he left her lying on the floor and went home to his wife."


"Every night after that, she'd catch him in the woods and they'd do it again and again and again, sweating and hungry and hot and needy. Her body wrapped around his, his body trapped inside her. They were like honey and wine, sweet and resin and thick and unable to untangle. They were in love and in lust and in sex."

"But he was married."

"Oh yes. To, to borrow the vernacular of the fairy tale, the Wicked Witch of the West and all her glorious in-laws." Remus let his fingers trail to her face, tracing her cheekbones, sharp beneath her smooth skin. His thumb caressed her lips, parting them, rubbing gently over the bottom one. "But that didn't stop either of them. Until one night. Red waited in the woods for hours, finally going home. On the way, the man's wife stopped her, confronted her. Told her that if she touched her husband again, she'd regret it more than she could possibly imagine."

"There's still no wolf."

He leaned in and kissed her softly, swiftly, unaware of the motion even as he did it. "Hush."

Hermione's breath caught and she nodded, suddenly silent.

"The wife told Red's parents and they confined to her house. Her mother walked her to the pub and her father walked her home. The man was there occasionally, but there was something changed in him, something darker, harder. She figured he'd been just as caught out as she had been and forgave him, but being who she was, she couldn't forget. And when he seemed to, she upped the ante."

Mindful of his kiss, she risked speaking. "How?"

Remus grinned and kissed her again, longer, on purpose, tasting of whiskey and soda and lime as his tongue swept across hers. "She started flirting with other men. Started teasing them in front of him. Touching them. Offering them the same things she'd offered them before she started seeing him. And he watched. And he got angry."

This time she kissed him, exploring his mouth for a moment, stealing a taste and whispering against his lips. "What did he do?"

"He told her she belonged to him. And she told him she belonged to no one. He was the one that was owned, bought and paid for. He was furious and stormed away. Never came back to the bar again."


"Then one day she gets this note, slipped into the morning milk delivery. Tonight, it told her, after the sun has set. Come to me. She went about her business, no one the wiser, planning her escape, her freedom. When the sun set, she slipped away, stealing a cape from the next door neighbors to hide in the darkness."

Hermione's fingers trailed down his chest, tracing trails of gray through the fur. She looked at him through lowered lashes, the dark fringe of them shielding him from the full brunt of her hungry gaze. "Wolf, Remus?"

He kissed her in earnest this time, his hand snaking behind her neck, holding her in place as he dove in, his tongue pressing hers into submission, exploring the warm cavern between her lips. He tasted her drink, the lingering hint of chocolate and mint. His chest brushed hers, rough fur brushing soft fabric, hard nipples against firm skin. He released her and they both were breathless, staring unseeing at each other. "He was waiting for her in a small cabin. She walked inside and they fell to each other, touching and tasting. It had been too long, too provoking, and he needed her. He sank down into a chair and pulled her to him, ripping her knickers away and setting her on his lap, sliding inside her as she sank down on him. Red's skirt was bunched at her waist, her cape moving as she rode him, his cock nearly slipping out of her as she rose, both of them groaning, moaning, panting every time she sank back down to him."

Hermione bit his lip, sucking it into her mouth then releasing him, her hand snaking lower, rubbing his stomach, feeling bone and muscle tense beneath her touch. "So the 'riding' part of her name..."

"Because she liked it on top."

"Hmmm," Hermione grinned wickedly. "Guess I did pick a fitting costume then." Remus caught his groan before it could slip past his lips, burying it in a hot kiss as he licked the inside of her mouth hungrily, pulling her closer, uncaring about the rest of the room. She pushed him away, breathing heavily, each inhalation brushing more of her body against his. "No wolf."

"Her hands were twined in his hair, her body thrusting rapidly, her mouth open in hungry, hot pants of desire. He'd worked her breasts above her low cut blouse, sucking on the nipples as she tightened around him, her whole body rigid as she tensed, ready to come all around him. Suddenly, there was a loud noise, the dark curtain blocking the window ripped away and the moon, full and bright and painful, filled the small room. Red shrieked, knowing someone or something was in the room with them, taking longer to realize that something was in the room with her. Something different. Something dangerous. The thick, long black hair in her hands changed, shortened, roughened. The lips she'd loved, she'd kissed, she'd felt move over her body darkened, thinned, barely hiding bared teeth, dark snarls. The velvet flesh beneath the wiry hair of his legs disappeared beneath a dark mat of fur. She screamed then, scrambling away from him, begging someone, anyone to save her."


"He sank his teeth into her neck, her blood running out over his lips. She would have died, would have been dinner, except for an errant laugh, a swish of invisible fabric. His senses came alive and he whirled around, lunging, tugging the cape free and exposing his wife to the night, to the moon. She howled in fear, realizing her error, knowing that with another female, another heat, he didn't need her. He pulled her into the light and she changed, transformed and he snapped her neck with his teeth before it was complete. Then he lay there, licking Red's wounds until the bleeding stopped, until the moon fell to morning and he became a man again."

"And Red?" Remus caught her hand and tugged it down, resting it over his erection, kissing her slowly, luxuriously. His tongue moved like velvet and silk, tasting every nuance. Hermione moaned, her hand tightening around him slightly before she pulled away, eyes hazy with drink and desire. "And Red?"

"She lived. Thrived. The wolf inside her was all she needed to be free." He chuckled softly. "She left him and ran wild, changing some, killing others. The taste of blood always lingering on her lips." He watched her for a moment, watched emotions tumble through her eyes. "My blood on her lips."

"Oh. Remus, I'm..."

He shook his head, his hand on her thigh, edging beneath her skirt. "Don't."

"Don't?" she asked as she finished off her drink, her own hand on his thigh, thumb stroking slowly. "I didn't mean..."

"You didn't." He stopped as her hand moved higher, fingers whispering through the fur. "Oh." He closed his eyes, reveling in the warm pressure. Turning slightly, careful to maintain the contact, he let his own hand slide higher, disappearing under the blood red fabric. "Hermione."

Her lips parted on a low moan as his fingers brushed her panties, the fur that covered his arms tickling her inner thighs. Arching toward him slightly, she stared unseeing into his eyes.

Remus applied pressure to the wet fabric, careful not to touch her clit for any length of time as she panted softly. His breath tumbled out unsteadily as Hermione's thumb swept up and down the length of his erection.

She watched his eyes, marveling at the play of light and color. She unzipped the pants of his costume, pale skin showing between the parted panels of fur. Wrapping her hand around him, she barely touched his cock until the circle of her fingers reached the ridge of the head.

Remus growled low, teeth bared as he hissed in air, hips thrusting up off the couch. "We need, very much, to get out of here. Right now."

"Are you going to take me home and sit on a chair while I fuck you?"

"If you don't stand up right now, I'll do that right here."

Hermione shifted, swinging one leg over both of his, straddling his knees. "Don't tempt me, Remus."

He groaned low and shoved her away, standing and carefully closing his costume. Everyone else seemed to be ignoring them, and he breathed a sigh of relief, only feeling the magical ward as they stepped away from the couch. "Sneaky, Miss Granger."

"I wasn't head of my class for nothing." She pulled him to her, rubbing her body against his, her scent on him. "Take me home, Remus. Tell me another story."


Remus slid into the cab behind Hermione, pulling her back against him as she started for the far side of the seat. With a quick wave of his wand and a few whispered words, he assured them privacy using the same spell Hermione had used upstairs, the driver seeing nothing more than two costumed people sitting calmly in his back seat.

In reality, his hands cupped her breasts as he pulled her against his chest, her head tilted to the side as he nibbled the length of her neck. His tongue savored her skin, inhaling the scent of her as it flittered between smoke and alcohol and sex and desire. Hermione's hands were stroking his thighs, nails grazing his skin beneath the matted material sewn to the fur. He growled low and she turned in his embrace, finding his lips with her own and pressing him back against the seat as she straddled his legs.

"Where to, mates?"

"Grimmauld Place?" Remus slid his tongue over her lips, biting the lower one as she gasped, reacting less to his kiss than to the pressure of his fingertips against her damp knickers. "It's close."

She shook her head, thrusting down against his hand as she told the driver her address. "No shrieking portraits."

"Live in boyfriend," he reminded her, his fingers slipping past the elastic as she nibbled his ear. "More likely to kill me."

"Staying with Harry," she assured him as she gasped, his fingers finding her clit and circling it. "Oh. Remus."

"I hate this costume," he assured her, his hips rising off the seat, pressing reassurance of his arousal against her. Hermione groaned and looped her arms around his neck, stealing another kiss, her tongue against his, over his, around his as she sucked on it, pulling him closer.

"Me too."

Her hands raked through the fake fur in desperation, her mouth hot and hungry over his. He thrust two fingers inside her, pumping them slowly in time to the rhythm of the road. Her hips rocked forward, her moans lost in his mouth as he shifted positions, laying her down on the seat and leaning over her, bracing himself on one arm. "So wet. I'd forgotten how wet..."

"There're benefits to not shagging boys," she assured him, wrapping one leg around him and arching her hips upward. "Not just shagging boys."

"I don't..." He started to pull away and she laughed, locking her arms around his neck and pulling him closer.

"You think I care, Remus?" She bit his lower lip then sucked on it. "Do I feel like I care?"

He didn't answer, his fingers pushing deeper, harder. Hermione was panting beneath him, body tensing and releasing as her orgasm built, her face flushed with need and heat. He curled his fingers slightly and she gasped in surprise, heat suffusing her, flooding his fingers. He groaned low, leaning in to steal a kiss from her lips as the taxi pulled up beside the curb, the oblivious driver calling out their fare.


Remus leaned against the wall of the lift, Hermione's pressed against him, the hand slowly stroking his cock through the costume hidden by her body. He ached, heavy with need, the light promising touches making him impossibly harder as her breath stirred the hair across his chest.

The bell rang and the doors opened and he ushered her out of the small car, tossing a smile over his shoulder to the older couple that had pretended to ignore them, guiding Hermione to the apartment door. She wrapped an arm around his neck, pulling him down for a heated kiss, her tongue sliding over the roof of his mouth, air scarce and hot, his knees weak as they finally broke apart. She fumbled through her basket for her keys, forcing it into the lock and pushing the door open. The lumos spell lit the room in soft candlelight and he followed her in, grabbing her arm as soon as the door was shut.

There was no preamble as he turned her, lifted her, kissed her, carrying her toward the dining room. She wrapped her legs around his waist, her arms over his shoulders, clinging desperately as he lifted her higher, catching her nipple between this teeth. His tongue bathed it through the thin fabric of her shirt, pulling it into his mouth with slow, steady suction.

Her hips thrust forward, her stockings sliding over the fur, her skirt bunched between them, doing nothing to disguise the rush of heat emanating from her skin. He released her, teasing her nipple with one last, lavish lick then set her on her feet, standing in front of her, the shadowed light of the room giving a feral tint to his eyes.

She stared at him for a long moment, eyes just as wild as his as her hands ran down his chest, stroking the fur, petting him. Anger flared up inside him, ready to be unleashed, until her hands moved lower, finding the hidden clasp that held the costume together. She unfastened it, unfastened his pants and peeled the fake fur away from him, his skin sticky with sweat and heat and lust as she stripped it all away, not looking at him, focusing only on the task of baring his flesh.

Remus stood still, closing his eyes and feeling her hands on his skin, stroking him with easy touches, easing the costume away, guiding it down his legs, over his feet, his shoes disappearing in the mass of fur. She turned her face upward, her smile and her eyes full of promise as she rose to her feet, her body brushing his, her skirt whispering over his erection. He moaned softly, tangling one hand in her hair as she unfastened the top of the costume, freeing him from the cloying heat.

"Are you finished?" His voice was a throaty rumble, reminiscent of a growl, a warm invitation back into the heat of a bed in a cold room. He didn't wait for her answer, his hands snaking under her skirt, lifting it slightly, tugging the damp silk of her knickers down, letting them puddle at her feet. His fingers barely brushed the hair at the apex of her thighs as he lifted her, fingers firm and steady on her hips.

"Why, Grandmother," Hermione smiled, nothing about it echoing the innocent tone of voice. "What big eyes you have."

"The better to see how beautiful you look, my dear," Remus assured her, hooking a chair with his ankle and tugging it over, sitting quickly, guiding her onto him, both of them sighing with sweet relief as her body covered him.

"What big ears you have."

"The better to hear you moan," he licked her neck, nibbling at the pulse beneath her pale skin, "my dear."

He slid his hands along her thighs then back to her hips, her skirt lifting slightly, his grip firm on her waist as he guided her along his cock, her knees digging into his thighs, her body rocking slowly, steadily over his, moving slowly. "What a big," she swallowed and let her eyes drift closed, feeling him fill her in inches, both of them barely moving, "cock you have."

Remus didn't respond other than to tighten his grip, wresting control from her. He set the pace, thrusting up against her in a sudden rush, coiled heat spiraling around them as he found her breast again, groaning as her hands tugged the material lower, allowing him to taste her flesh in earnest.

Hermione's head fell back and she loosed a low moan to the ceiling, her body tight and hot around Remus's cock, the slick walls caressing him as she rode him, uninhibited, bathed in red as her cape fluttered against his bare thighs. The soft movement of fabric feathered against his skin and he groaned, the pool of hunger overtaking him, drowning him as he stood up, holding her against him, backing her onto the kitchen table and draping her over it, his hips pistoning forward. "The better to fuck you with, my dear."

Breath catching, Hermione ran her hands up Remus's bare back, leaving trails in the sheen of sweat that laced his skin. Fingers skimmed the back of his neck, tangled in his hair, guiding his mouth to hers. The kiss was hot and painful, teeth and tongues and aggression plied with hungry, demanding mouths.

Remus groaned and lifted one hand from the edge of the table and lifted it to her breast, capturing the mound with his fingers, playing with the tender flesh with firm fingers, nipple sought and found, smooth fingertips squeezing and teasing. Gasping, Hermione arched off the table, every viable surface of her body pressed to his, her legs locking around his lower back, angling her against him.

He breathed her name over and over again as she clung to him, his body moving in tandem with the muttered syllables, his thrusts long and hard and solid, slowly disintegrating into short, hurried gasps of need as he shifted closer. Hermione's hands fisted in his hair. She kissed him hard as she came, breaking away to run her tongue along his neck, tasting the thick salty sweat. Remus growled low in his throat, coming with one last, forceful thrust, burying himself deep inside her.


They lay together, his weight heavy on her. His forehead rested against her chest, his breath decorating her chest while her soft exhalations stirred his hair. The smell of satiation was overwhelming in the small room and his brain felt overloaded with sensation.

"Are all fairy tales like that?"

He smiled against her shoulder, shifting his weight and sliding deeper. He growled and nipped her pale skin. "Like the story I told you? Or like what we just did?"

"Is there ever really a happily ever after?"

He eased away from her, the cool air sliding over their hot skin. "Not if there's a wolf involved. That's almost always just a one night stand." He smiled wryly. "There's a reason they call it wolfish behavior."

Hermione grinned. "I don't know." She propped herself up on her elbows and looked at him. "You've been a perfect gentleman."

"Ah." He raised an eyebrow. "I see."

"You didn't think..."

"Oh, no." Remus chuckled. "Not at all. I was more...concerned about what I would do if you started talking about leaving Ron."

"Did you think that was likely to happen?"

He reached up and stroked her damp hair away from her eyes. "You're terrible for my ego, you know."

"I've come no less than three times, Remus." She reached down and trailed a finger along his cock. "I think if I were any better for your ego, I'd die of pleasure."


She blushed and shook her head. "Let's just say you were very...graphic on the couch."


She sat up and took his hands, bringing him against her, fitting him between her legs once more. His body reacted, cock stiffening. "I had a wonderful time tonight, Remus. Thank you so much for going to the party with me."

"I'm getting the brush off, aren't I?"

Hooking her leg around both of his, she brought him even closer. "We've got hours yet until Ron comes home. But he will come home."

"And I," he assured her, reaching down and easing his cock inside her once again, "will be long gone by then."

"Oh?" She gasped, half in question, half in surprise.

"Full moon's coming," he assured her, sliding slowly forward. "It does things to me."

"No wonder Red couldn't get enough."

Remus lifted her and carried her toward the bedroom, their bodies still joined. "Shall we see if you have that in common with her as well?"


"Where've you been, Moony?"

Remus stopped for a moment then dropped the top of the costume to the floor. "I went to the party."

"Did you have fun?"

"It was a party." He shrugged and stepped out of the fur pants. "Too many people, too many smells, not enough booze."

"You still managed to stay out all night."

Remus turned, his naked body flushed. "I'm sorry? Weren't you the one encouraging me to go to this stupid thing?"


"And aren't you the one who practically forced me out the door?"


"And now you're being a petulant child about the fact that I did what you said?"

"I didn't know you'd be out all night."

"Neither did I."

"I expected you to come home. I waited for you."

"My God. I've got a whiny, jealous ghost on my hands. And what would you have done if I had come home, Sirius?"

"So you're saying I have a reason to be jealous?"

"You're the one who noticed how bloody short the skirt was!"

Sirius's eyes darted down to Remus's stiff cock. "I wasn't the only one."

"You told me to fuck her!"

"I didn't think you'd do it!" Remus didn't respond, glaring at Sirius with flashing amber eyes. Finally Sirius looked away. "How was it?"


"The sex," he snapped. "How was it? It's been bloody eons, Moony."

"You want me to tell you how the sex was?" Remus chuckled then stopped at Sirius's dark scowl. "Oh. Oh. No. You're serious. Dead serious."

"Yes. And Dead Sirius. It's a bad joke, you bastard, and I thought you above it."

"You're a ghost, Sirius." Remus shook his head and sat on the edge of the bed, heedless of his nakedness. "You're dead."

"I know that," he snapped. "And where am I? Trapped in a bedroom, your bedroom, you stupid git, and you're prancing about like you're alone and I may be dead but I'm not dead, damn it."

Remus tilted his head then moved, scooting back on his bed, resting against the headboard. Sirius watched him from the corner of his eye, his arms crossed over his chest in a defiant pout. With a quick spell, Remus moved the bed across the room, edging it closer to the vanity, to the mirror. "You want me to tell you about it?"

Sirius's mouth twitched but he didn't respond, his gaze very clearly on Remus's erection.

"All the details. Every scent, every sound. The hot little gasps she made as she came? The hungry growl I can't control."

"Bastard," Sirius moaned, licking his lips and closing his eyes for a second. "You're an utter bastard."

"I'll tell you everything."

"Just tell me you didn't give her that bullshit about the true story of Little Red Riding Hood." At Remus's look, he groaned in disgust. "I swear, you're cocked up that people know you're a werewolf just so you can get women with that damn story."

"As I recall, Sirius, it worked pretty well with dashing young men as well."

Sirius grinned, unable to help himself and relaxed against the nothingness. "Fine. Start from the beginning. Leave nothing out."

"He looked like you, this time." Remus whispered softly.

Sirius smiled and nodded, his eyes flashing with life, completely unsurprised. "Of course he did, Moony. I'm the man of your dreams."


Silverlake: Authors / Mediums / Titles / Links / List / About / Updates / Silverlake Remix