innerslytherin

Title: Delineation of a Duellist
Setting: 1980 through an alternate timeline of 1991
Pairing(s): Remus/Sirius, Remus/Severus, Sirius/Remus/Severus
Rating: NC17
WC: overall ~34,400; this part ~9,700
Summary: When a wizard's honour is challenged, it is grounds for a duel. To win, one hires the best duellist--and everyone knows Remus Lupin is the best. He's never lost. But in order to win the most important duel of his life, he must learn how to lose...

Thanks: Eternal thanks to my dear, wonderful betas lore, aunty_marion, thesnapelyone, jenw118.




Disclaimer: The scene with Harry choosing a wand includes liberal use of text from PS. The scene where Remus describes the shop to Severus is inspired by a scene from Susan Cooper's book The Dark Is Rising. This entire fic was very much inspired by Ellen Kushner's deeply moving and well-written Swordspoint and The Privilege of the Sword.



Delineation of a Duellist

Part One


Lupin pours the tea gracefully, asks Harry if he wants milk and sugar, and, when Harry says no, hands the tea over black. His movements are economical, easy. Harry admires that. He knows just enough of this man to want to know more.

Lupin was Harry's godfather's lover, he knows that.

He also knows that Lupin's name is still recognised, among people of a certain age, that Lupin was once the best duellist in all Wizarding Britain, that Lupin chose to leave London after the fight that saved Harry's parents' lives.

But Harry doesn't know why.

He has already decided to grow his hair longer so he can tie it back in a queue like Lupin's--his new master is very good-looking, though he isn't dashing. His movements can be sudden, but they are always graceful, which fascinates Harry. He never seems unsure of himself, whether he is walking or pouring tea or kissing Harry's mum warmly on the cheek.

"They've sent you to learn duelling from me."

"Yes, sir."

Lupin's mouth is quirked. His amusement is quiet, private in a way, and yet it invites the beholder to join in. Harry likes this. "Why on Earth does James want his boy to know how to duel? Does he think the Dark Lady will fight by rules of honour?"

"I expect it's because some of the Death Eaters have sons my age. Draco Malfoy will be at Hogwarts with me this year."

"Are you eleven already? My God, how time flies."

"Almost. In July. You didn't know?"

Lupin shrugs, a delicate negligence.

Harry wonders why, but he remembers what he overheard Sirius say, just before he left. "If Remus hadn't bloody chosen to throw his fucking life away just because--" Harry's mother had silenced him. She doesn't like it when Sirius swears, particularly if Harry could be around to hear. Harry usually finds it amusing because he knows as many swear words as his godfather, and he learned most of them from his dad, not even Sirius. But Sirius' rage is desperate when it comes to Lupin.

"He did what he thought he had to." Harry has always liked the placid way his mother has of speaking. Not always, not even usually, but sometimes, she speaks like this, as if she knows everything about the situation, and there is no question but that she is right.

"He's dead! He's dead and he's killed me, too!"

This, then, is why Lupin can't remember how old Harry is, though Harry isn't entirely sure what Sirius means. It must be difficult to remember things, when you've been dead for ten years.


***


"He's getting reckless," Lily said, frowning down at baby Harry's cowlick. "Even you must see it, Sirius."

"He's nothing of the sort. He's just--touchy. Everyone insinuating a werewolf must be on Voldemort's side, and no one letting him have a job. It makes sense he'd be angry."

"I can understand his duelling for his own honour," Lily said. "But to hire out as a duellist, Sirius! Are you really in such dire straits, financially?"

"How should I know? He doesn't let me see the bills." Sirius' voice was a growl. He reached out and tickled under Harry's chin. "Stubborn bastard."

"Not in front of Harry," she said automatically.

"What does James think of it all?" Sirius asked abruptly. "Does he know?"

"Of course he knows," Lily said, her voice despairing. "Peter told him as soon as word got out that Remus had duelled one of the Mad Lestranges and won. And no one knew why he'd duelled them, until Peter found out that Molly Prewett--oh, Weasley, I mean--had hired Remus, because one of the Mad Lestranges killed her brothers."

Sirius sighed, then grinned. "Well, but what a duel, Lily! Can you just imagine Our Moony beating Rabastan Lestrange! It must have been gorgeous."

"You just hate them because one of them married your cousin."

"As I have every right to," Sirius snapped. "This is stupid. C'mere, Harry, let's go flying."

*

"Lily's worried about you, mate," Sirius said. He was lying on the bed with his legs in the air and his head drooping backwards over the edge.

Remus kept working the oil into the wood, his movements methodical, his gaze on the wand.

"She thinks you've gone barmy. Completely round the bend."

Remus shrugged. He'd never been much for talking, and these days the sorts of words that wanted to spill from his lips were all angry...so he didn't talk much at all.

Sirius sighed and drummed his heels thoughtfully against the wall. "Anything to eat?"

"There's crisps on the shelf." Remus contemplated the sheen on the wand and decided it was satisfactory. He turned his attention to the wrist sheath that he usually wore on his forearm. The leather needed to be oiled.

"You ought to be living in a nicer place than this," Sirius said. He crunched the crisps between his teeth and paced around the room restlessly.

Remus liked it here. They lived in a tiny flat along a little stub off Knockturn Alley, and Lily disapproved, but Remus found it exciting. He liked having to be on his toes every moment. He liked that the woman downstairs would do his laundry if he gave her three Knuts a week. He liked how daring Sirius thought it was to live here.

James didn't think much of the accommodation either, but Peter visited a lot. He would sit at Remus' window and stare out, watching the whores and rent boys, hags and necromancers, his entire body taut with excitement. Remus tried never to let himself feel superior because of Peter's reaction to it all. Mostly Remus just felt rather world-weary.

Something tapped against the window, and Sirius had it open before Remus could even stand. Remus just looked at him, but Sirius broke the seal--green and silver, Remus had seen, but nothing more--and unrolled it, then snorted.

"This is ridiculous." He threw the letter down and stepped on it, his combat boots crumpling and tearing the parchment.

"Sirius," Remus protested, looking at his face. The dark hair flopped over his forehead, but his jaw was set.

"My own brother. It's stupid."

Remus frowned back. "That was my letter."

"Yes, and if you're lucky, he won't write you another."

Remus sighed. "You're so stupid about him."

"He's a little twit."

"So are you," Remus replied. He tugged the parchment out from under Sirius' boot and tried to read it, but it was too badly ruined.

"Ha," Sirius said.

"It just means I'll have to call on him in person," Remus pointed out, his voice and face placid. He didn't mind. Sirius was his best friend, his lover, but he didn't treat Remus the way Regulus did. Regulus was irreverent and offensive, but at least he treated Remus as if he were someone of consequence.

"Don't be stupid," Sirius said. "You can't go near him. He's been hanging out with Rosier and Malfoy and Snape and that lot. You don't want to go anywhere near the little toerag."

Remus didn't say he'd recently had lunch with Snape, nor that he had won a duel against Rosier last week. He knew it was only a hatred for half-bloods that kept Malfoy from hiring him, and he knew it was only a matter of time before Malfoy wanted to win more than he wanted not to hire a half-blood duellist. But he couldn't tell Sirius this, because Sirius cared more about his bloody war than he did his friends.

"Let's go out," Sirius said, standing up again. "We could hit the Leaky Cauldron. Or the Crooked Dog. Or the Silver Thestral."

"Or we couldn't, since I've no money to pay for drinks," Remus said. It wasn't entirely true. The landlords of any of those pubs would extend him credit; he was going to be paid for his latest duel the next day. "I'm going to go see your brother."

"He'll only get you into trouble."

"So have you done, since we were boys," Remus said. "You and he are more alike than you want to admit."

"We aren't." Sirius looked cross.

Remus smirked at him slowly. "Well, there's one thing that separates you." He stood and paced over to Sirius, moving with the rolling gait that always ignited a gleam of lust in Sirius' eyes.

It didn't fail this time, either. Sirius's eyes burned as he watched Remus, but he didn't do anything, just let Remus push him backwards until he hit the wall, their groins rubbing together. Remus growled softly and nuzzled behind Sirius' ear. Sirius gasped and buried both hands in Remus' hair.

"You're gorgeous," Remus murmured, fumbling at Sirius' zip. He shoved his trousers and pants down, panting in Sirius' ear. Sirius groaned in answer and got Remus' jeans pushed down.

Desire flamed up around them, consuming them, and Remus abandoned himself to it, drowning in Sirius' cries of pleasure.

*

"Idiot. My letter said specifically not to come here." Regulus was hanging out the front door of Number Twelve Grimmauld Place with a cigarette in his mouth and his robes open in the front. His tie was askew.

"Your brother destroyed the letter," Remus explained. "And I didn't want you to think I'd ignored it."

"You could have written."

Remus shrugged.

"Well, you're here now. And I suppose it won't matter anyway, as everyone will realise almost at once who hired you and why." Regulus leaned on the edge of the door, touching his chin with a forefinger. Remus knew it was an intentionally provocative pose, but he couldn't help appreciating it all the same.

He raised an eyebrow but didn't ask, because he knew Regulus wanted him to.

"I need you to kill Cissy's husband."

That made Remus raise both eyebrows. "I'd like nothing better, but duels to the death are, generally, a lot more trouble."

"He offered my cousin a grave insult, and her parents aren't doing anything about it."

Remus just looked at him. "He's married to your cousin."

"He said at a dinner party last week that he'd rather have had Molly Prewett. A blood traitor instead of my cousin! It isn't to be borne."

"No, of course not," Remus said. He watched Regulus take a long drag off his cigarette. Regulus' lips were sensual and a little cruel. They reminded Remus of Sirius. "Duelling Malfoy will be expensive."

"I'll pay you two hundred Galleons on the spot, and another eight if you beat him," Regulus said.

Remus couldn't keep his eyes from widening. That was a shameful amount to pay any duellist, unless perhaps said duellist was going to assassinate someone like Dumbledore or the Minister for Magic. "You really want him dead."

"Look at what Rodolphus Lestrange has done to Bella," Regulus said. Remus didn't point out that Lestrange and Bellatrix were two peas in a pod, just watched Regulus. For a thousand Galleons, he'd be willing to kill Lucius Malfoy.

"I'll see if this fits the points of honour whereby a death duel can be established," Remus said.

Regulus waved a hand. "It won't matter, you'll be duelling on my behalf."

"Yes, and I don't want to get my arse thrown in Azkaban on your behalf," Remus said dryly.

"Oh, really, Lupin, don't fret so much." Regulus pursed his mouth into a moue of discontent and waggled a finger at him. "That's the thing about you half-bloods, you're always so nervous about things."

"Pardon me for feeling as though the world is out to get me," Remus said, hunching his shoulders and watching Regulus.

It made Regulus laugh, and that sent a slither of pleasure through Remus. Regulus was beautiful when he laughed. They both were, Regulus and Sirius, but Sirius had a bitter edge that Regulus had yet to learn. After a moment, Remus smiled. "I'll come to see you when I have an answer."

"No," Regulus said, and his eyes were bright as he watched Remus. "Find an answer. I'll visit you in two days. You live off Knockturn Alley, don't you? I'll come find you."

"You won't be doing yourself any favours," Remus murmured. "Fashionable lads like you don't call on people like me. Especially not there."

Regulus laughed again. "Don't you see, Lupin? Fashionable lads like me do whatever we want." His gaze was warm on Remus' face. A moment later his eyes widened in surprise.

"Reg, you ass, come back to bed." Remus stared at the darkness of the passage, a frisson of shock running down to his belly. Severus Snape, wearing only a dark green dressing gown made of what looked like satin, had come up behind Regulus, an indulgent expression on his face. It was the most open Remus had ever seen him.

At that moment, of course, Snape saw Remus, and his expression suddenly closed off entirely. He blinked at Remus, his long, slender fingers plucking suddenly at the neck of the dressing gown. Then he pressed his lips together and spun on his heel, stalking back into the dimness.

"There, now you've upset him," Regulus said, though Remus could think of nothing he'd done, except being alive, to upset Snape. "I'll call on you later."

Dismissed, Remus just nodded and went.

*

"Malfoy has a son," Sirius said roughly. "Near the same age as Harry. Draco, they named him." He chewed a thumbnail. "Why d'you want to know?"

Remus shrugged with delicate negligence. "Just wondering. You're so hung up on that family tree of yours."

"You get yourself kicked out of the family, and then tell me--" Sirius caught himself, but it was too late to prevent the hurt. Remus had been kicked out of his family, from the day he was sixteen and told his father he wouldn't go for any more experimental lycanthropy treatments. Sirius forgot that sometimes, because Remus was only giving up a family farm, not an aristocratic name with fabulous Gringotts vaults to go along with it.

"Go to Lily and James' dinner without me tonight," Remus said. "I'll be out."

Sirius tensed and looked away. "Should I wait up?"

"No need." Remus waited until Sirius looked back, then smiled, and the brilliance of it, after his quiet, stunned Sirius. "I'll wake you when I get home."


***


Harry has been with Lupin for a fortnight, sleeping on the sofa in Lupin's front room and watching the way Lupin moves, before he gets any inclination that something might be wrong. He has been trying to figure out why Sirius thinks Lupin's life is over, why Sirius won't come visit him. He knows it would be rude to come right out and ask Lupin about Sirius, but there are times he considers it, simply because there is nothing about this house to give him any clues.

There are no pictures on the walls, no pretties on the coffee table or the window sills. Lupin doesn't even bring in flowers, though he is an avid gardener. Harry has watched him as he digs his hands into the dirt, smiling at the feel of it on his fingers. "Smell that?" he has asked Harry, and Harry just shakes his head, but Lupin smiles anyway and breathes deeply.

There's no reason, Harry thinks, for this austere life. But Lupin doesn't seem unhappy about it. He is a quiet man, but he hums while he dresses in the morning, and he sometimes sings in the shower. When he thinks Harry has fallen asleep, he moves around his bedroom with his wand, showering the room with multi-coloured sparks. It keeps Harry awake, but he doesn't mind; he creeps from the sofa and stands at Lupin's bedroom door, watching. Lupin's movements as he practices hexes and blocks are a deadly dance. Harry thinks he understands why Sirius still loves him.


***


Sirius woke easily. Remus leaned over the bed and touched the small of his back, which was bare of even a sheet, and Sirius breathed in, rolled over, and wrapped his arms around Remus. It was the best sort of greeting, even at two in the morning.

"Did you kill anyone?" Sirius asked, and Remus took a breath. No, no, he didn't kill anyone. He had been amused by Regulus' utter lack of contribution to his research, and perplexed by Snape's continued presence at Regulus' side, but he hadn't killed anyone. He had learned how it was legal to do so, and that Regulus' claim was allowed.

"Bloodthirsty thing," Remus said affectionately. "I didn't." He kissed Sirius, sliding a hand up under his nightshirt and liking the way Sirius arched to his touch.

"You must have been with someone fascinating," Sirius said. "Dumbledore? Elphias Doge?"

"Neither," Remus mumbles against his lips. "I was at the library." He was, too, though he hadn't been alone. Sirius didn't need to know that; he wouldn't approve of the company Remus had had.

"God, you're exquisite," Sirius said, laughing. He brushes his fingers over Remus' close-cropped hair. "Take me, Remus. You know I'm yours."

He did know. Sometimes it even made him hate Sirius a little bit, because if Sirius were really worthwhile, wouldn't he offer himself to someone better than Remus? But Remus couldn't imagine his life without Sirius. He finished stripping and climbed in bed, crouching over Sirius, and stroked them both to hardness.

*

"You can't control it any more, can you?" Snape's gaze was harsh, demanding. "Sometimes you slip into people's minds without meaning to."

"Shut up." Remus leaned on the table with one elbow, his drink in that hand. The other hand caressed the wand at his hip, distinguishing smooth wood from soft leather with his fingertips. It had only ever happened with Lily and Sirius anyway--James was always busy with Auror duties and Peter never seemed susceptible--and Remus always knew what was inside Sirius' mind.

"I told you it was only a matter of time. You have to learn more discipline."

"What I have to do is learn who's betraying my friends," Remus said. His voice was weary, his expression more so. "You're the best chance I have. As long as you're not betraying me to Voldemort."

Snape hissed. "I've told you not to say his name," he muttered. "He's better at it than you are. He'll know."

"Is that why it's so dangerous?" Remus asked idly. He looked as if he weren't paying attention, his gaze off somewhere in the middle of the room. Tom pushed two more glasses of Firewhiskey in front of them and wandered away again. "He's that powerful."

"Legilimency is the most powerful tool there is in this war," Snape said. His long, elegant fingers drew patterns only he could see in the condensation from their glasses. "You ought to be learning this from Dumbledore. I don't know what he's playing at."

"Perhaps he thinks I'll be tempted to bed you and everything will be all right," Remus said. He glanced sharply at Snape, his gaze piercing and direct for a moment before going vague again and returning to an unspecified spot across the room.

Snape snorted. "Not likely. I'm perfectly happy with the occasional club night."

Remus smiled, his gaze not on Snape. "What, you aren't sleeping with Regulus?"

"Not recently." Snape said. He took a long drink. "Try again."

Remus concentrated for a moment, trying not to look at anything in particular. "A shop, with dirty front windows. And a waxy-looking...is that a Hand of Glory? And there's a ring, a gorgeous golden ring with rubies."

Snape made a satisfied noise. "Borgin and Burkes. And that's Hercule Peverell's House ring." He snorted. "It's been in that case for three years because no one can afford eight thousand Galleons for it, no matter how old and gorgeous."

"Peverell? That's one of my ancestors--one of Hercule's daughters married a Lupin." He glanced at Snape, who looked neither impressed nor surprised. "Well, she did."

"Perhaps if you kill enough of my friends you'll be able to afford it then, Lupin." Snape's tone, oddly enough, wasn't hostile. He shrugged. "You did well enough, describing the shop."

Remus laughed. "Yes, that's right. It's just a few shops down from where I live."

Snape gave him an ironic glance. "I'll have to pick somewhere you haven't seen next time."

*

"It's too bad you only scarred him," Regulus said, handing over a small leather purse. Snape, waiting with folded arms a few steps down the passage, snorted. "I wouldn't let Sirius come to any more of your duels, if I were you."

Remus sighed. "I thought he would be amused. Considering the way he treated you Slytherins all those years, I thought he'd be more than happy to let me kill one."

"For him, maybe," Regulus said, his head tilted to one side. "But not for me." He gave Remus a bright, genuine smile and moved forward. "It's too bad, isn't it?" he asked, and kissed him deeply. "You'll have to tell him what you gave up for his sake."

Remus' fingers flew to his lips, but he only stared at Regulus, unable even to be angry.

With another bright smile, Regulus spun and flounced towards Severus, caught him around the waist, and kissed him. Remus felt a pang go through him, which he pushed away.

Severus pushed Regulus off, his expression impassive. "I hate you."

Regulus laughed.

*

"Don’t ever interfere in one of my duels again," Remus said quietly.

"You were going to kill him," Sirius gasped, staring at Remus. "You would have."

"Yes, I would have," Remus said, his voice cross. He was furious actually, but he'd learned a great deal about hiding his feelings while he was at Hogwarts, and even more from Snape. "It's what I was hired to do, in case that fine point escaped you."

"He's my bloody cousin-in-law! I couldn't let you do that."

"Why not? It's what your brother hired me for."

Their gazes met and held. After a long moment, Sirius looked away. Remus thought he looked disgusted. He tried not to care.

"I hope he paid you well," Sirius said.

"Well enough that I can buy you the leather jacket you've been pining for," Remus said. "Remember that, when you're turning up your nose at what I do. I'm the one who buys you things." He hated saying it. He remembered how they'd been in school, how he'd always wanted to buy things for Sirius and never had the money. He shouldn't lord it over Sirius--and yet he can't help it.

"You wouldn't have to. Uncle Alphard left me money."

Remus met his gaze, and Sirius blushed. They both knew Sirius didn't want to touch that money. The vault had sat untouched for four years already. Sirius liked Alphard, but he didn't trust that the money wasn't a trick. When he'd first received the letter about it, he'd said something about wanting to prove he could make it on his own, but they didn't talk about that, either--they both knew Sirius was a kept man, even if neither of them wanted to acknowledge it.

*

"I think something's getting close," Lily said, frowning. She was braiding charms into Harry's baby blanket, and Remus was watching in fascination. He'd never been good at charmwork, for all his talent at hexes and curses. "The air feels thick."

"Snape said the Prophecy seemed to be about you," he said after a while. He stroked a hand over Harry's unruly hair. It reminded him of James, which made him smile. He never saw James any more. James made it a point to stay away from the duels, in case he might have to arrest Remus someday.

"So it seems," Lily replied. "I don't know what to think, Voldemort being threatened by a baby who's only a year old."

"Don't say his name," Remus said absently. He checked the walls of his Occlumency out of habit.

"You're starting to sound like Snape."

"There's a reason Dumbledore chose him to be my teacher." Remus' voice was mild. There had to be a reason, even if he didn't know it. He fingered his wand, making certain it was loose in the holster.

Lily laughed. "You look as though you expect trouble in my own garden."

"I always expect trouble. It's how I've stayed alive."

"Are you sleeping with Snape?"

It wasn't the question he'd expected. He turned his head slowly to regard her. "I'd never thought of it," he lied. He had thought of it, and might have done, if there had been any indication Snape wouldn't reject him.

"Sirius loves you quite desperately." Her voice was quiet, her gaze steady. Those green eyes were more piercing than Dumbledore's.

"I love Sirius," he replied, his voice going absent again. It was a warning, that he didn't want to discuss this. One of the many defence mechanisms he'd learned over the years.

"It isn't the same." She sighed. "Don't fuck this up, Remus."

It surprised him. "Not in front of Harry."

*

Remus stroked his hands along Sirius' body, liking the feel of the skin, so smooth over hard muscles. He brushed Sirius' ribs, dragging his fingertips down to lean hips. Sirius' body rose up into his touch, shuddering slightly as his breathing hitched. This was the best moment, when they stopped trying to use words and spoke only with their bodies. Remus lowered his head to close his teeth gently on Sirius' throat.

The firelight made Sirius glow and cast Remus' shadow flickering and jumping against the wall. "You're beautiful," Remus breathed, his lips ghosting along Sirius' throat to his jaw. He could never resist saying things like that, because he knew Sirius liked hearing it.

"Oh, Moony." Sirius' voice was thick with emotion, and it made Remus flinch. Sirius loved him, and the way his voice tied Remus' stomach in knots was frightening. "God, Moony, yes, touch me like that."

Sirius clutched at him, moaning in pleasure as Remus slid a leg between his, pushing up against him. He was so unrestrained during sex that Remus often felt as if he were just watching, awed by the emotion and importance Sirius attached to their coupling. It humbled him sometimes. Other times it made him want to hurt Sirius.

He bit Sirius' throat again, then wound his fingers in his hair and tugged his head back. "Call me Remus," he said harshly.

It just earned him another loud groan, and eager arms twining around his neck. "Yes, Remus, yes!" Sirius gasped. "Love you!"

It was too much. Remus fumbled at Sirius' arse and pushed inside and fucked him, fucked him.

*

The pureblood's hands were fluttering as he tried to protest. Remus felt a swift, sharp hatred for purebloods. He narrowed his eyes.

"You know, sir, why we are here." He did, too, it was obvious from his stance. Harfang Longbottom and Lycoris Rosier were probably the only two besides Remus who did know--Rosier accused Longbottom of cheating him in a business deal, and the Gringotts goblins were keeping mum about what had actually happened.

Remus didn't care about what had happened one way or another, because if he won he would take home a hundred Galleons, and if he lost he would be dead and it wouldn't matter.

"I don't care what Rosier says, it's a damned lie!" Someone in the assembled crowd tittered, and someone else coughed.

Remus bowed politely. "I don't dispute truths, sir, I dispute wands."

"I haven't any desire to kill you, boy! There's no need for this! I can pay you more than--"

Remus stiffened. "You dishonour the duel, Longbottom," he said, his tone cold. He raised his wand in front of his face like a sword and waited. He wouldn't have it said he cursed an unprepared man.

"Damn you, werewolf," the man said. "Just because you have a wand, it doesn't make you our equal. You're just a trained Dark creature, killing for sport."

"Not for sport," Remus corrected, "for money." He smiled pleasantly at the man and sent a warning hex over his head.

Swearing, Longbottom fired back, his curse deflecting harmlessly off Remus' shield. Remus' smile thinned slightly, but he didn't have any trouble matching Harfang curse for curse. He wasn't as skilled as Remus. He really should have found someone to hire, perhaps Dung Fletcher; though Remus would have regretted killing Fletcher, he was certainly better than Longbottom.

When they had been trading curses for ten minutes or so, Remus found his interest waning. This wasn't the sort of duel that engaged him, that got his blood singing and his skin feeling tight. He could hear the gasps of onlookers, and one person screamed when he deflected a particularly nasty curse. But there was no thrill.

He looked for his opening, playing the man to the right several times in a row, and as quickly as he saw it, he acted, lashing a lurid purple curse at Longbottom's chest. It struck him solidly and he staggered backwards, staring at Remus in shock.

"Werewolf filth," he spat, and died.

*

Peter wasn't meeting Remus' gaze any more. Remus didn't know if it was because Peter was lying to him, or just because Remus had killed a dozen wizards and beaten three dozen more to the pain. Remus wasn't sure he cared. He liked that Peter was afraid of him, but he didn't like the way Peter seemed to hold Sirius in contempt because he warmed Remus' bed.

"You haven't got much better at cards," Remus said. He threw down an eight because the ace would complete his straight. It was a good feeling.

"I haven't had time for practice," Peter said, the bitterness apparent in his voice.

"You ought to make time." Remus smiled at him.

"Not all of us can kill people for a living," Peter said. Immediately he tensed as if he knew he shouldn't have said it.

Remus smiled, pleased that Peter had brought it up himself. "No, not everyone can," he said. "Just the ones who are as good as I am." He leaned across the table, cards forgotten. "What are you trying to prove, Wormtail? We all know you're no good at cards and no good at lying."

Peter darted a glance to the side. "Sirius said he doesn't trust you. He said you're bloodthirsty."

Remus laughed. It was a ridiculous allegation, coming from Sirius, who asked him every day how many people he'd killed before tea.

"No, he did!" Peter's gaze was on Remus' face, his stormcloud eyes earnest. "He told James you wouldn't make a good Secret Keeper. You're too close to Snape, for one thing. For another..." He trailed off, studying the cards in his hand.

"Yes?" Remus asked, liking the weight of his wand at his hip.

"Well. You kill people for money, don't you." Wormtail wouldn’t meet his gaze. "He says it isn't exactly the sort of person they want as their Secret Keeper."

Remus stared hard at him. "What do you say, Worm?"

"Does it matter?" Peter hunched his shoulders. "You know they don't listen to me."

*

"You've been telling falsehoods about me," Remus said, ghosting his lips along Sirius' spine. Sirius tensed, which Remus took as an affirmation.

"What do you mean?"

Remus smiled and scraped his teeth over a shoulderblade, gently. "Wormtail says you're telling them I'm not trustworthy."

Sirius sighed and relaxed into the mattress. "You know better than to listen to Wormy. He'll say anything to make himself look better."

"No, he doesn't," Remus said, "but I know you'll do that." He smoothed a hand down over Sirius' arse, liking the way Sirius' body twitched under his touch. "How long before they decide you're the one they shouldn't trust?" he murmured, smiling.

"Don't do this, Moony," Sirius pleaded. "You're dangerous, we all know that. But you're loyal. We know that, too. I know that." He twisted his head to look at Remus. "I love you."

Perhaps that was his mistake, Remus thought.

*

"I don't know, maybe he's just fucking someone else." Sirius laughed, but the sick feeling in his stomach didn't go. "Just, as if that wouldn't bloody kill me."

Lily frowned. "You aren't that fragile."

"Aren't I?" Sirius picked at a spot on his jeans where the grease hadn't charmed out. "I don't know...sometimes I wish I were dead. That might be easier than this...this not knowing." He flapped a hand.

She turned away from the washing. "Have you asked him?"

Sirius barked a laugh. "Busy. Duelling. Practicing. Lessons with Snape." He shuddered. "I hope he's just fucking Snape. Then I could kill Snape. If he's become a Death Eater, I'll have to kill him." He laughed a little madly. "And I think we all know he's faster than I am."

"Why don't you take Harry for a walk," Lily suggested. "He keeps getting underfoot."

It was a lie, but it made them both feel better.

*

"We're going into hiding," Lily said. Her tone was apologetic. "I know you've heard all sorts of things, Remus. I didn't mean for it to go this way." She held out a hand. "Dumbledore's going to be our Secret Keeper, I think. I don't know what to make of that. He's trustworthy, I know he is, but the way he's insisting on it..." Her voice trailed off.

"You don’t trust him, quite," Remus said. His golden eyes were hot on Lily's face. He wondered if she could feel it like the sun.

She looked down at the shirt she was mending. "Not as much as I trust you," she admitted.

He had to know. "And Sirius?"

"Sirius...He's James' best friend," she said. "I don't have any say. But Dumbledore says he would be the natural choice, so the Death Eaters will just target him. Dumbledore wants him to go into hiding, too."

"You ought to pick Sirius. He'd die for you and James." So would I, he thought, but he didn't say so. If he had to say it, it wouldn't mean anything.

She shivered and took a sip of her tea.

"What does Sirius think?"

"Don't you know?" she burst out. "You live with him! You sleep with him! Don't you know?"

"We don't talk much any more," he said. His voice was quiet, but his gaze was wry. She knew this. They all did.

"I don't understand you," she whispered, her fingertips covering her mouth.

"It isn't meant to be understood," he replied.

*

Sirius didn't trust him. It was all too clear in the way he tensed every time Remus shifted in bed, the way he went off every few days and didn't say where he was going. It was clear in the way he smelled like someone else sometimes, when he came home.

Remus looked around the tiny flat and wondered where he'd made his mistake, if it was the way he'd refused to talk about Greyback, or the way he'd tried to kill Lucius Malfoy, or the way he'd declined to take the challenge against Snape. He was the only one who knew Snape was a spy, so perhaps that was it. Or perhaps Sirius really was still angry that he'd tried to kill his cousin.

"Where were you yesterday, Moony? Everyone came over, and we were going to go out to a pub for dinner, but you never came home."

Remus' shoulders tightened but he didn't turn from where he was practicing forms and gestures in the mirror. "I had business." He'd been killing someone in Hogsmeade on a point of honour.

"Business." Sirius' voice was cynical. "Harry's birthday was Wednesday. You weren't around for that, either."

"I sent a present."

"Paid for with blood money."

Remus whirled, his wand still raised, and Sirius stared at him, chin lifted and eyes flashing. "Going to hex me? Going to challenge me to a duel?" His voice was mocking.

Remus steeled his gaze. "I am a duellist. Yes, I take money to kill people. If you find that beneath your dignity, to sleep with me, you are welcome to leave."

He expected Sirius to crumble, expected the haughty demeanour to fall away and pleading words to spill from his lips. Instead Sirius' jaw jumped and he reached up with a short, fierce gesture to shove his overlong hair out of his eyes.

"Fine." He turned and reached under the bed, hauling out a knapsack that was already waiting. "Fine." And he marched out of the flat, letting the door slam behind him.

*

"Regulus said you were here, but I honestly didn't believe him. I shall owe him a Galleon, as well as needing to engage a duellist to defend my honour. I called him a liar."

"Shut up, Snape," Remus said, not lifting his eyes from his drink. He wasn't interested in listening to Severus tonight. He hadn't shaved in days, hadn't slept in days. His eyes burned.

"There's someone dead outside, did you know?" Snape's tone was far more conversational when he was being arch than when he was genuinely making conversation.

"He insulted Sirius."

"Black isn't your boyfriend any more, Lupin. You don't have to defend him."

Remus lifted his glass and tilted his head back, draining the glass in one long swallow. He finally glanced at Severus and found the other man watching him, his gaze oddly uncertain. Remus didn't say anything, just lifted a finger to the bartender.

"Drowning your sorrows isn't exactly your style."

Remus took a gulp of Firewhisky and glanced at Severus again. "I save it for the really important occasions." He sipped it again.

"And what if Black is the one leaking secrets?" Severus demanded. "What if he isn't deserving of your love?"

"How do you know I love him?" Remus countered, meeting Severus' surprised look with a faint smile. "We fucked a lot. He loved me. I bought him things because they made him look pretty. And when he got tired of me killing people, he left." Remus' smile died, his eyes hardening. "End of story." He drained the third? fourth? glass of whisky.

"Lupin..." After a moment, Severus shook his head.

Remus laughed softly. "That's something I don't think I've ever seen. Snape, at a loss for words."

"You imbecile," Severus said. He took a long drink of his own glass--it was a vile-looking green drink, but he seemed to appreciate it. His eyes narrowed. "Why did he really leave? It wasn't because you kill people. You've been killing people for over a year. You're bloody good at it, and he might not have let you kill Malfoy, but he wasn't ashamed by it. When he was with you, he strutted. He wore all the pretty things you bought him, and he sometimes picked fights so you would have an excuse to duel someone. Don't try to pretend to me that he left because of the duelling." His voice was startlingly vehement, though it was still low; it sent a strange thrill down Remus' spine.

"I suppose you have an answer, then," Remus challenged, trying to hide his reaction.

"You were getting too close." Severus took another sip of his drink and straightened up, tilting his head back a little but still watching Remus. "You had begun to get suspicious of him, had begun saying things to me that you shouldn't, letting slip in our sessions that things weren't all right between you. You were acknowledging to yourself and others that Black might be untrustworthy. And once you started admitting it to yourself, you began watching him. You realised he was watching you, so you wondered why. And once you began wondering..." He shrugged and finished his drink.

Remus stared at him, his mouth hanging slightly open. Severus knew. How did he know? Had he seen all this in their sessions? Did he, too, have a lover who didn't trust him? They shouldn't--he was a Death Eater. Just because he was secretly on the Order's side didn't mean he abstained from torture and mayhem. On the contrary, he was the most bloodthirsty of the Dark Lord's supporters. It had gained him Voldemort's trust...but whose trust had it cost him?

Severus saw Remus watching him and his face rearranged itself into a scowl. "Shut up and get your last drink. I'm taking you home after this."

"No one would attack me here," Remus said. "I live not two blocks away. They all know me. I don't need a minder."

Severus just snorted.

*

Remus hadn't seen Sirius for over a fortnight. He had been conscientiously avoiding all of Sirius' favourite haunts, drinking more than he usually did, and viewing people with more contempt. It had surprised him when someone knocked on the door of his flat. It had surprised him more that it was Sirius.

"Peter and Harry are missing," Sirius said again, frowning at him. "He was minding Harry while James and Lily were out and they got back and found his flat's been ransacked. Remus, are you high?"

Remus hardened his gaze. "You know I don't do that stuff."

"I don't know anything about you," Sirius said, his voice flat. "Lily and Alice were assigned to the case. Their investigation points to the Wilkes home in Leicester Square. We're going to get them back, James and Frank and I." Sirius inspected his fingernails. "Lily said we'd better ask you along." His fringe was hanging down over his forehead, obscuring one eye and making him look rakish. "If you don't have...business...of course."

Remus was standing in his shirt-sleeves and a pair of brown trousers that he liked. One hand was resting still on his wand holster, where it dropped automatically whenever anyone knocked at the door these days. He took in a long, slow breath. "I would drop anything if any one of you were in danger," he said quietly, and he moved towards the door, forcing Sirius to move or be pushed aside.

With an annoyed huff, Sirius moved just in time to avoid touching Remus. Remus curled his lip to hide his hurt and moved past him. "Do you have Apparition coordinates?"

"Yeah, hold on and I'll Apparate us."

Remus frowned. "Tell me the coordinates. I'll go separately."

Sirius stared at him, a frown of his own forming. "God, Moony, don't you even trust me to--"

"We don't know what we're going into," Remus said. "Together we'd be encumbered." Of course he didn't bloody trust Sirius. How could he any more?

Sirius bought it. "Right, sorry." He muttered their coordinates and kicked at the wall. "Sorry."

"Yeah," Remus said. He didn't care. Sirius was gone, wasn't he? No matter what, now, he wouldn't be coming back to Remus. It gave him a stomach ache, but he pushed it back behind a wall of Occlumency. Taking a deep breath, he Disapparated.

The exterior of the place was dark. In the shadows surrounding the house he could see James, Sirius, and Frank, each approaching from a different angle. They crept in on the houses, wands at the ready.

Remus held up a hand and murmured, "Homenum revelio," which told him there were eight people inside. He held up five fingers, then three, and the others all nodded. Sirius crouched beside the door and glanced up at James, who flicked his wand.

"Alohamora!"

It was like he had opened Pandora's box. A bolt of red light exploded outwards at them, making them all flinch. Sirius swore, then ducked inside and rolled to one side. A silver-blue glow emanated suddenly from the door, and Remus followed; Sirius had got a shield up to cover them.

They could hear shouting and running footsteps from further inside the house. Frank and James followed them in and got behind cover. Curses and hexes began flying, the occupants of the house attacking first, and the Order members retaliating. Remus wrinkled his nose at the acrid tang of fear and pain in the air. He lifted his head; was it Peter?

The others had the Death Eaters engaged, so Remus left them to it and followed the scent down a staircase to what he expected to be a cellar. It was actually more of an underground passage with a door at the end of it. A stair creaked as he stepped on it, and only a quick dodge saved him from a freezing hex trap. He regained his balance and crept to the door, peering cautiously into the room. He had to stifle a gasp.

A pale, dark-haired man with gleaming red eyes sat on a throne-like chair at the head of the room, Harry in his lap. Harry had a large, crescent-shaped gash across one cheek, but didn't seem to realise anything was wrong. He was flanked by two masked and robed Death Eaters. And on the floor in front of him knelt Peter, his hair and clothes dishevelled. It was from Peter that the scent of pain, at least, emanated.

One of the Death Eaters lifted his head and made an aborted gesture. Then Voldemort smiled. It looked stiff and unnatural, and the voice that came next was very cold.

"Remus Lupin. The half-blood werewolf duellist. How nice to finally make your acquaintance. I have heard so much about you. Why don't you come out so we can talk." The final words were imbued with such power that Remus felt himself moving forward for an instant before he realised that he really didn't want to go.

The Unforgivables, he realised. Remus concentrated on clearing his mind and blocking it away from all intrusion, and the desire to obey faded. Though he had control of himself again, he decided it was best to play along for now, hoping to buy time. He moved fluidly out to stand near Peter. Glancing down at his friend, he realised with a jolt that Peter's hands weren't tied. He must be held under Imperius. Remus might have to Stun him to get him away from here.

"Nothing to say?" Voldemort inquired. He sounded amused. "Why, my dear, I had no idea you preferred the strong, silent type."

Remus blinked. He seemed to be talking to one of the Death Eaters. Remus glanced over his shoulder reflexively; there was no way Sirius could have beaten him here!

Voldemort laughed, a high cold sound. "Oh my, I see you haven't told him. Regulus, take off your mask and speak the truth to Master Lupin."

Remus' stomach flipped as the Death Eater on Voldemort's left reached up and pushed back his hood. Slender fingers removed the mask. Regulus stepped forward, his eyes bright as he gazed at Remus. He wet his lips and smiled hesitantly.

"Remus, do you really not know?" His voice was soft. His hips were swaying as he walked, though how he managed to show it, Remus couldn't imagine. "I've loved you for ages. Ever since the first time Sirius brought you over for a visit."

Remus gaped at him. It wasn't possible. Regulus had always been so careless, so amused, by him. Why--how--

"You don't believe me," Regulus said. "I've tried often enough to give you hints. I can't tell if you're just a bit daft about people, or if you know and my brother's turned you against me." He moved closer.

The other Death Eater made another aborted gesture, and Remus realised suddenly who it was at Voldemort's right hand. Fuck, he thought, and checked the walls of his Occlumency.

"I think of you so often," Regulus admitted, his voice a mere whisper. He was close enough that Remus could have reached out and touched him. He wasn't sure if the others could hear Regulus now. "I think of you when I have a wank, or when I'm with someone else. I think of you with Sirius, and I want to kill him. I think of you teasing me, or scolding me, or praising me." His voice turned hungry on the last words, and Remus wondered, disconnectedly, when was the last time anyone had praised Regulus.

"But Regulus--"

"I've asked the Great Lord to spare your life, Remus," Regulus said, smiling at him. "That's why you're here today. We four will be spared, even if no others will." He reached up and wrapped his arms around Remus, kissing him passionately.

Remus had daydreamed often enough about kissing Regulus, especially since the time Regulus had kissed him after the duel. But he found himself left cold by this kiss and the way Regulus pressed his whole body against Remus'. He wanted to hit Regulus, to push him away, but, incongruently, he didn't want to hurt his feelings.

Then Regulus' posture against him changed slightly, his fingers tapping lightly and rapidly against the back of Remus' neck. It caught Remus' attention just enough that he didn't pull away. Regulus shimmied against him a little, and to his own dismay, Remus felt a stirring of interest in the pit of his stomach. The tapping persisted, and after a moment Remus realised that Regulus' eyes were open, though his kiss had changed not a whit. What was Regulus thinking of? Remus thought back, back to the first time he'd visited...he had taught Regulus about Morse code. The taps rearranged themselves into letters. P - E - T - E - R --- B - E - T - R- A ---

Remus stiffened and wrapped his arms around Regulus, wanting him to know his message was received. The tapping stopped, Regulus moaned with pleasure, and Voldemort chuckled.

That sound made Remus pull away, panting and glaring, as he thought Voldemort would expect. "You--" he gasped, sounding accusatory. "You're the one who turned Sirius against me!"

Regulus looked at him, seemingly stricken, and reached out again. "Remus, please--" he began, but Remus backed several steps away, moving quickly. It put him in a place to take in Peter's position again, to cast it in a new light. He and Regulus stared at each other, and Remus dared not try Legilimency, for fear Voldemort would detect it, but oh, he wanted to.

"A pity," Voldemort said at last. "Regulus had so hoped you would see things his way. I tried to tell him that a half-blood Dark creature wasn't worth his affection, but..." He trailed off and shrugged elegantly, one hand uplifted as if to say, What can you do? The other hand still curled behind Harry's back, holding onto him.

Remus dragged his gaze up to meet Voldemort's challengingly. The Death Eater on Voldemort's right--Severus, he knew--shifted. It was a warning, but Remus couldn't afford to heed it. "So if I don't see things his way?" he asked, letting a hint of rebellion creep into his voice. He thought hard about how good Regulus' lips had felt against his, how warm his body, how firm--and how wrong, that Remus could desire Sirius' brother, how he must resist it...how he wanted not to resist it...

Voldemort chuckled. "I have promised Regulus that I shall not kill you," he said. "Nor shall I order your death." He tilted his head. "Of course, I said nothing either way about preventing your death."

Movement caught Remus' attention, and he whirled automatically, his wand in his hand in less than the blink of an eye. He froze, poised on the balls of his feet, knees slightly bent, wand upraised, and stared at Peter.

Peter, whose wand was similarly drawn, who watched Remus with a mixture of sorrow and loathing in his eyes. Remus wondered if the loathing were all for him, or if Peter had spared a bit for himself. Peter had been manipulating them. He had manoeuvred them each against the other, all summer long, without any of them being the wiser. Remus thought of the way he'd spoken about Sirius, about how Sirius' careless answers--careless because Sirius had nothing to fear, nothing to hide--had seemed too flippant, too designed to point blame on someone else. He wondered what Peter had said to Sirius about Remus.

Had Sirius really left because he believed Remus was untrustworthy? Or had it been that Remus' lifestyle was beneath Sirius' dignity, and Wormtail had made him believe that? Or had he met someone else, finally giving up on Remus because Remus had given up on him?

Then again, it could be something else, Remus thought as he stared down the length of his wand at Peter. It could be because Remus hadn't trusted any of them, either. He'd smiled at Dumbledore and played cards with Peter and fucked Sirius, for God's sake, but he hadn't trusted any of them. He'd fought for money and killed people and met with Greyback and refused to share his information with anyone except Dumbledore and Snape, because those were the two people he had to tell, even if he didn't exactly trust either of them. He'd wanted to trust Sirius, but there had been that tiny seed of doubt Wormtail planted, and now he knew it was false, of course, but there was no denying it had been there.

They had doubted each other, and done more damage than the Dark Lord could ever have done alone.

"You were at it all along," Remus murmured, watching Wormtail's eyes rather than his wand hand. "When did you go over?"

"You don't understand," Wormtail said, his gaze pleading. "Rabastan said the Dark Lord could give me things--my heart's desire." It was impressive, Remus thought, that he could still manage to look pleading and not calculating.

"Your heart's desire?" Remus snapped. "And what would that be? Power? Popularity?"

Peter looked over his shoulder, but Remus refused to fall for that. It was an amateur's trick, and Remus was no amateur.

Then he heard a sound that sent a chill down his voice.

"Harry! Oh--Dumbledore! James! Down here, quickly! It's Harry! And Voldemort!"

"Lily!" Remus gasped, but Severus was already moving, backing away behind Voldemort to hide his actions. Voldemort sliced his wand in a curse, but the purple light went bouncing violently off the shield that was suddenly protecting her. Lily cried out, but the next moment she cried, "Remus? Peter? Stop this! Finite incantatem!"

Remus laughed and didn't take his eyes from Peter's. "It won't work, Lily. Peter isn't under any spell. He's betrayed us. And nor am I. I've learnt how to resist the Imperius." He thought Legilimens! and pushed forward with his will, and he could see that it had been months, almost a year, that Wormtail had been serving the Dark Lord. He caught a glimpse of the temptations, the trials, the turning. He saw the violent hatred that stabbed Wormtail when he was with Sirius and James, the violent lust when he looked on Lily. Remus wondered if the way they treated Peter had made this inevitable.

"I'll kill you," he said, his voice conversational. "You should have known I would."

Peter raised his wand, but Remus didn't react. He knew Peter, could surely read Peter's intent. He wondered suddenly why he'd never suspected Peter of treachery. He knew Peter. How could he have misread him so badly?

The curse, when it came, was almost a surprise. Almost. Not quite, but all the same, it was enough that he knew, suddenly, why he'd never suspected Peter.

Remus ducked, whipping out a nonverbal of his own. Blue light streaked past Peter's cheek, making him flinch. His shield went up a moment too late to deflect that one, but Remus' next curse bounced off harmlessly.

Peter swore. Privately Remus agreed. He spared a moment to hope Sirius and Lily hadn't been taken by the rest of the Death Eaters gathered here, that Harry would be all right; but it was all he could spare. The next instant he and Peter were engulfed in the fury of a duel, the best duel Remus had known.

Reducto, Sectumsempra, Levicorpus, Tarantallegra, they were all there. The air crackled and hissed with the force of their spells, boiling in Remus' lungs and squeezing sweat from his forehead. Their feet danced, their hands blurred.

Remus had never known Peter was this good. He remembered helping Peter with Arithmancy homework and wondered how long this treachery had been planned. He smiled fiercely as they fought.

Lily was there suddenly, shouting something. The words took a while to process, because Remus was concentrating on the duel, ignoring the pain in his shoulder, the sweat trickling down his forehead, everything. Eventually he realised she was shouting, "Sirius! Voldemort--"

Remus didn't hear anything else. He couldn't let himself get distracted. He had to kill Peter, and Peter was good enough that Remus couldn't let his guard down a bit. It was the sort of duel every master really wanted--the kind that was truly life or death, for a good reason, for one's own honour.

Then he saw Sirius darting past, Harry in his arms. His black hair was flying, his mouth open, though Remus didn't hear what he was shouting. He didn't even have his wand raised, the idiot, and he was getting in the way of a Wizard's Duel? Remus had to take care of Peter before Sirius got himself and Harry killed.

He dodged between Sirius and Voldemort, who had raised his wand, his cold face contorted with the beginnings of a curse. Voldemort was going to kill Sirius, and even if Sirius had stopped loving Remus, that was no reason to let him be killed. As he got up a shield, he heard Peter's voice behind him, shrieking something, and he thought, Fuck, and then a blaze of pain knocked him forward. He stumbled

He used the Killing Curse, which he had never done before. The Killing Curse required hatred, and he'd never hated his opponent before. He never knew exactly what Peter used. It was a bolt of purple light, that was what he remembered. It hit his Killing Curse and ricocheted, sending fragments of the Avada Kedavra spiralling off to destroy some innocent piece of stonework. Remus didn't see that, he just heard it, through the noise of Peter's last scream. The purple light was the last thing he saw. It splintered into fragments that drove into his face, piercing his skin, skewering his eyes.

Remus screamed and screamed, until the darkness overtook him.



Part Two, Section One