Author: Mosh Title: Cure For the Ache Note: You may not archive, re-post, or alter any of my stories without my permission. Please contact me first. Thanks! |
In hindsight it had been a terrible idea, but it was too late now. Sirius ducked into the darkened shop doorway to his right, the thick shadows wrapping around him, concealing him - though they did very little to quell his anxiety. He knew it was unnecessary; he wouldn’t be recognised here. But that still didn’t stop his sudden panic attack. It had, after all, been months since he’d been out of the house, and years since he’d ventured to a public place like this. Order meetings didn’t count. Knockturn Alley did. A gaggle of ageing witches shuffled past him, cackling like rabid banshees. No wonder Muggles had such a twisted view of Wizarding folk, even if they believed their stories were nothing more than fairytales. Keeping as low to the ground as possible, Sirius waited patiently until they were gone. Luckily, none of them had spotted the large, black, scruffy-looking dog crouched inches from their path. Sirius craned his neck, looking down the long, twisted cobbled street. It was dankly illuminated along both sides by glass domes filled with enchanted fireflies, most of which had died or looked close to doing so. He couldn’t remember exactly where Rancin and Stale’s Apothecary was, but he knew it was further down on the left-hand side, near the end of the street. That wasn’t too far - he could make it. The recent lapse of arthritis in his hands and feet - a result of his time spent chained up in his damp cell in Azkaban - had finally steered him out of the house, the pain having grown too much. Nobody knew about it. In truth, Sirius didn’t want anyone to know. He didn’t want any more pity, especially from Remus and Harry. He sniffed the air cautiously, ears pricked up. It would take only moments to sneak inside the Apothecary, sniff out the crushed tiger bones - a key ingredient of the potion he had read about to instantly relieve his affliction - pilfer a vial and flee before anyone was the wiser. But Christ, it had been a long time since he’d had this sort of freedom, and years and years since he’d been here. The stagnant air reminded him of his first visit to Knockturn with James before they had started their seventh year at school. They had been trying to procure Wizard porn magazines - the kind that moved, had sounds and came with a secret ‘touch’ activation charm that felt like real hands. God, those had been brilliant. A sudden flutter of movement by the opposite wall snapped Sirius out of his reverie and he winced as a large, shiny brown cockroach rustled past him like a dry autumn leaf, its legs tapping quietly on the stones. Without wasting any more precious time he bolted, racing down towards the end of the alley, dodging between the legs of witches and wizards going about their daily routine. It grew steadily darker and danker as he moved, and the crowds thinned to almost non-existence. Possibly the seediest place in Britain, this, Sirius thought. He had almost made it to his destination, the swinging sign hanging above Rancin and Stale’s in clear view, when a sharp, crippling pain exploded across his back, accompanied by a loud crack and the sound of his own bark of surprise. His legs buckled, sending him flat onto his face. Scrambling against the grimy cobblestones, Sirius tried to rise, but something heavy fell against him and pressed, holding him down. As the pressure increased, pain throbbed beneath his skin, and if Sirius had had a voice he would have yelled bloody-murder. Such a bad idea, doing this. “If I didn’t know better,” said a calm, male voice from above, “I’d say someone had let their mangy dog off its lead. If I didn’t know better.” Oh fuck. Sirius tried to rise once again, but as he did a foot joined the cane - for now he knew it was a cane holding him down - restricting him even further. “Black,” Lucius whispered. “Cousin. No need to struggle - you cannot escape.” Sirius silently cursed the day Malfoy had spotted him with Harry on platform nine and three-quarters in his Animagus form. Foolish, foolish thing to do. Molly had warned him, too. Goddamn it, Molly always warned him, and she was always bloody right. Fuck! “Now, now, no need for unnecessary distress. Really, Black, whining is so unbecoming for a pureblood such as yourself.” Lucius dug his heel into Sirius’s back. “Now, I’m going to let you get up. And you’re going to behave like a good mutt. Don’t think I won’t curse you in a heartbeat if you try anything funny.” He slowly removed his foot, then the cane. “Up, now. Come on, you wretch.” Sirius growled, getting to his feet. His back was ringing with pain from Lucius’s blow, but he wasn’t going to let the bastard see. Instead, he straightened as much as he could, turning his face up to meet those cold, sneering grey eyes. Bastard. Lucius had his wand drawn and pointed at Sirius. Even with his hair loosely hanging around his shoulders instead of pulled severely back into its usual ponytail, Sirius could see the intense sneer on Lucius’s face, as cutting as ever. “No funny business,” he warned again. “Let’s go somewhere a little more private, shall we? I don’t doubt you’d like to change back to your normal self and nurse that bad back of yours.” Fuck you, you inbred piece of shit, Sirius thought. Fuck you to hell. But even if Lucius had been able to read any of Sirius’s thoughts in his glare, he showed nothing other than mild impatience. Sirius soon found himself being ushered down a side street with Lucius’s wand trained on his back the whole time, nothing but the tapping of Lucius's boots and the patter of his own paws on the stones breaking the quiet. Before long they reached a dead end and Sirius found himself at the very bottom of Knockturn Alley, eerie in its silence and damp network of shadows. Lucius tapped Sirius on the hind legs with his cane and inclined his head towards a small, grubby looking building to their left, a wooden sign hanging above its doorway bearing the carved words: The White Lion. You’ve got to be joking, Sirius thought, as Lucius led him inside. “The usual,” Lucius said to the man behind the bar. The man eyed Sirius suspiciously, then looked at Lucius as if he were insane. Lucius’s lips thinned to a pale line of annoyance, splitting across his sharp, symmetrical face like a slash. The man blanched, reached under the bar, and brought out a key, which he dropped into Lucius’s leather-gloved hand as if it was burning him to touch. Not another word was uttered. Lucius kicked Sirius gently, prompting him across the smoky room, through a wide wooden door and into a dingy corridor. “At the end of the hall, on the left,” Lucius said quietly, tapping Sirius’s behind with his cane. Sirius growled, hating being treated like a fucking sheep dog. When they reached the end of the corridor Lucius opened the left-hand door, its hinges creaking ominously. Sirius didn’t wait to be pushed inside - he wasn’t going to give Lucius the satisfaction - so he marched into the room and- Oh. It was huge and... plush, for want of a better word - expensive-looking, with a large bed at the far end, a separate section like a small sitting area with a soft red sofa and dark mahogany coffee table, and - bloody hell - even a piano next to the window. Sirius stared incredulously around the room, not quite believing what he was seeing. “Rather convenient for my, ah, more questionable interests, wouldn’t you say?” Lucius closed the door and muttered: "Colloportus," the lock clicking into place. He started to unclasp his robes, but stopped suddenly and stared down at Sirius. “Well?” he said, voice laced with impatience. “Aren’t you going to change?” Oh yes, just you wait until I have hands to strangle you with, Sirius thought. He gathered himself for the transformation. A familiar cold tingle made its way down his spine and he shivered as his body morphed. It wasn’t an unpleasant experience - he was so used to it now - but he was uncomfortable exposing the change after so many years of it being a secret, especially to Lucius who had probably only ever witnessed Wormtail's transformation. He opened his eyes and found himself on eye-level with Lucius. The bastard had stepped closer, close enough to touch, to hit, and Sirius would have done so in a second if it weren’t for the wand still wrapped in Lucius’s fingers and the daring expression he wore. “Black,” Lucius said with a humourless smile, as if greeting Sirius for the first time that day. “And here I was expecting you to look slightly less primitive in human form.” “Fuck you, Malfoy,” Sirius said, reaching up to push his dark, tangled hair away from his eyes. “What the hell is this about?” Lucius unclipped the buckle on his robes, allowing them to slip from his shoulders and fall to the floor. “You’re a wanted man, cousin.” He peeled off his leather gloves, tossing them onto a nearby armchair. “But I’d feel terrible turning in a member of my own family-” “We’re not blood related," Sirius snapped. “No,” Lucius mused. “We’re not.” He stepped up to Sirius, pushing the tip of his wand against Sirius’s chest. “But still, I’m not ready to give you up to the Aurors yet, dear cousin.” He leaned in close to Sirius’s face, and then, as if on impulse, he ran his tongue across Sirius’s lips with one quick swipe. Sirius started to reel away but Lucius gripped his arm with his free hand. “Move and I’ll hex you until your skin's black and blue.” Sirius didn’t doubt it; he held fast. “Good boy,” Lucius whispered, mouth curling into a nasty smile. “What do you want?” “You, Black.” Sirius stared at him. “Don’t tell me you’ve never been with a man before?” Lucius leaned in close again. “I simply refuse to believe that.” “Fuck off.” Why was that all Sirius could get out? Why couldn’t he say what he was thinking: that he was going to kill Lucius as soon as he got the chance. That he’d damn well pay for this. Lucius appeared unmoved by Sirius’s comment. Instead, he muttered a Mobilicorpus Charm, spinning Sirius up into the air and back over towards the bed before the words had died on his lips. Sirius fell heavily onto the mattress and sank down into its softness. After another low whisper and flourish of Lucius’s wand, silver-coloured bonds snaked out of the bedposts and fixed tightly around Sirius’s wrists, pulling his arms up above his head. He struggled, but they were too strong. “Malfoy!” Lucius slinked over to the bed, picking his shirt buttons open as if it were an art. Sirius looked away, up at the bonds.
Lucius rested one knee on the edge of the bed beside Sirius and leaned towards him. Sirius caught sight of the slope of a long, pale neck; smelt the faint scent of man and expensive cologne. He averted his eyes before they wandered further down the open column of skin only a breath’s length from his face. He knew Lucius was looming like this on purpose, and damn it, it was working. “Work something out...” Lucius echoed softly. “As far as I’m concerned, I already have.” He flicked his wand again, and Sirius felt his clothes disintegrating against his skin until he was completely naked and exposed. Oh, double-shit and balls. Was there any way at all to reason with this smarmy bastard? He tried to pry his wrists from the bonds again, his hands already starting to hurt from lack of movement, but his efforts were useless. “Stop struggling," Lucius said. "Or I might have to cast a Silencing Spell on you. Which does ruin part of the fun of this.” Fun? Sirius pictured himself screaming soundlessly under the unrelenting torture of Lucius's hands and wand, an image he could have done without. Something of it must have flashed across his face because Lucius laughed quietly, a flittering, mocking noise that sent an involuntary tremble through Sirius’s exposed body nevertheless. Before Sirius could silently curse himself for falling for it, Lucius moved away, the bed rising in his wake. What followed was the sound of fabric sliding over skin, a hushed whisper Sirius would have associated with sensual anticipation had it not been Lucius making it. “Think of your wife,” Sirius said. “Oh I am,” said Lucius, moving back over to the bed. “After all, if it hadn’t been for my wife, we might not be in this situation.” Sirius could hear the smirk in Lucius‘s voice. “I really should thank her for introducing me to you all those years ago.” Narcissa Malfoy nee Black’s wedding. And what a fancy to-do that had been. Sirius had stayed for the ceremony, but managed to get away before the celebrations after. Though he hadn’t got away before being formally introduced to his cousin’s husband, six years his senior. He could remember Lucius from school, when Sirius had been a wide-eyed first year. But back then Lucius had had no reason to concern himself with Gryffindor first years, and Sirius no reason to concern himself with snobby sixth year Slytherins. If he’d only known. Lucius pushed Sirius's legs apart with one knee, then knelt between them, arched bird-like over him as an incubus would whilst contemplating its slumbering victim. Sirius tried not to stare at Lucius's cock, which rose flushed-dark against the cream-white of his smooth skin. He blinked, trying to wipe that image far from his mind. “Cut the false pleasantries, Malfoy,” he managed. “You don’t have to play all contrary with me - I know you.” Lucius only smiled, a flash of pearly teeth between dangerous lips. Sirius would have knocked those teeth down Lucius’s throat had he the freedom to do so. “Very well,” the blond said with all the air of a shrug. “I’m going to fuck your tight, hot convict arse until I am satisfied.” Sirius stifled the treacherous moan that welled in his chest at Lucius’s words, his cock equally treacherous as it began to grow hard. God, had he really gone without sex for so long that he’d take pleasure in it with someone like Lucius? The man was a total bastard. With one of the best looking cocks Sirius had ever seen, Goddamn it. Which was soon being pressed against Sirius’s thigh. Sirius pursed his lips, feeling his own prick now stiff and needy above his abdomen. His own flesh playing the traitor, and all because he hadn’t felt another man’s hands on his body for years. Lucius’s eyes lowered to Sirius’s groin. With an appreciative expression curling his lips, he languidly stroked a finger all the way up the underside of Sirius’s swollen erection. “Very nice,” Lucius said, licking his bottom lip with a flick of wet tongue. Sirius bit back the groan, but couldn’t help his hips from jerking up into the touch. It felt so good. Too good. “Stop.” And, surprisingly, Lucius did, but only to seize one of Sirius’s nipples between thumb and forefinger. He twisted it lightly at first, then harder when Sirius didn’t react. “Ah! Stop, Malfoy!” Lucius only twisted again. And then again, until Sirius’s nipple was rock-hard and dark-red from the assault. Only then, when Lucius could read the twinge of pain on Sirius’s face, did he move over to tend to the other side, this time leaning down and taking the rigid rise of flesh between his teeth. He sucked and licked, teasing with a circling of the tip of his tongue and graze of his canines. Sirius clung to his rapidly diminishing threads of resistance, though he could feel them weakening by the second. Soon the rise and fall of his chest grew quick and he found himself squirming helplessly under the silk-soft hair and warm breath that was dousing his skin, as Lucius relentlessly licked and bit him. “S-stop...” Lucius grinned around Sirius's nipple, running his bottom lip across it. “Fuck... stop...” After a smug, nasal chuckle, Lucius released him - “Just warming you up, Black.” - before returning, once again, to his task. Sirius was panting rolling streams made up of little moans and pleas for it to end, trying not to arch upwards with all his might by the time Lucius grew tired of the wicked torture. His chest felt raw, nipples throbbing, cock now leaking pre-come against his belly. He let out a loud gasp as Lucius sat up and plucked his wand from the bed beside them, pointing it at Sirius’s face. “One of two things will happen now," Lucius said. "You will either take what I give you like an obedient little whore, or you will try to resist me. Either way I'll get what I want and you know it. Are we going to have a problem?” Sirius stared at him with utter hatred. “Thought not.” Keeping a hold of his wand, Lucius crawled up until he was straddling Sirius’s abused chest. “Though I sincerely doubt you’re unaccustomed to this, I must warn: one wrong move and it will all end very badly.” And with that, Lucius rose up onto his knees. Sirius watched helplessly as Lucius curled one hand around himself, angling his thick cock against Sirius’s lips. For a split second of defiance, Sirius refused to open his mouth. The wand tip pressed into the hollow of his neck, pushing painfully against his windpipe. With his eyes blazing daringly, Lucius took in a breath - no doubt to form the words of a curse - and rubbed his cockhead across Sirius's mouth. With no other choice, Sirius snarled and sucked in the moist head of Lucius’s prick. "Ahh, yes. Good." With one shallow thrust across Sirius's tongue, Lucius sighed in pleasure. The difference in his expression was startling. Sirius had rarely seen the man look so... human, so beautiful. He lowered his eyes, refusing to follow that thought further. Lucius Malfoy was anything but beautiful, regardless of outward appearances. “Yes... I knew you'd be worth the hassle, Black...” And another thrust, Lucius’s cock sliding back towards Sirius’s throat. Sirius concentrated on not gagging, on breathing through his nose and keeping his teeth out of the way. Beneath that, his senses couldn't help but be aware of the weight of Lucius's erection, the thickness, or the taste of him, strong, arousing. Sirius hated himself as his fingers twitched at the thought of touching his own cock. After what seemed like hours of quiet panting and thrusting, of suck and lick and slide and thrust and gasp and pull back and don't choke and solid, filling, moving heat, Lucius withdrew. “Good. So good.” He moved back down Sirius’s body until he was, again, sitting between Sirius’s thighs, then stared down at Sirius’s twitching shaft, eyes now blurred with satisfied but not sated pleasure. Sirius swallowed dry air, his jaw aching. “You look thoroughly debauched, Black,” Lucius whispered. “And I’ve barely even begun.” “You won’t get away with this, you fucker.” “Won’t I?” Lucius leaned down so that his hair whispered against Sirius’s erection. “Would you like me to stop this now?” Another brush of his hair had Sirius choking out a cry of frustration. “Leave you here alone, tied up and desperate like this...” But instead of touching his needy cock, Lucius snaked his hand down the sensitive inner curve of Sirius’s thigh, pressing one long finger behind his balls. Sirius bit his tongue. Lucius pressed again, harder. “Fuck!” Then lower, so that Lucius could stroke across the ring of Sirius’s arsehole. “Will this alone make you come, I wonder?” Lucius mused, drawing three quick circles around Sirius’s entrance with the pad of his finger. He pressed gently at the centre. “Let’s see...” Sirius bucked his hips up with a sharp inhalation as Lucius thrust one un-lubricated finger into his hole. And despite the pain, Sirius cock jumped and he spurted hot and hard across his stomach, threads of come streaking his chest as well. He shuddered, and then again, and again, balls pumping to empty everything, distracting him from the burn of Lucius's finger spearing into him. He was only allowed to remain lost in the bliss for a brief moment, before Lucius was twisting his finger inside Sirius’s body, pulling out to introduce another along with the first. The sharp stab of pain brought Sirius crashing back to earth. “Ahh! Bloody hell, Malfoy - you psycho!” “I'm amazed that you think you have grounds for complaint after that spectacular show,” Lucius crooned, withdrawing completely. Sirius could feel his own come cooling on his stomach, so he shut up. In truth, he hadn't come that hard from just a touch to his prostate for as long as he could remember. Lucius summoned a tube of gel from the bedside table. Slicking his hand with it, he slid three moist, cool fingers into Sirius’s burning arse with no preamble. Sirius couldn’t deny that the coldness of the lube felt tremendous, but the stretch was still enough to make his eyes squeeze shut, and lip grow sore under the press of his teeth. Lucius prepared him mercilessly, once mumbling that it was all for his own benefit, not Sirius’s. All Sirius could do was hold on and hope it would be enough. Aching and arching once again off the bed, Sirius felt Lucius’s fingers withdraw after what felt like an eternity of twist, slide, twist, slide. Through the slight discomfort, Sirius had grown half-hard again nonetheless, as if his body was all for the idea of sex, even though he would have given anything to be with someone else at that moment. Lucius’s warm hands curled under his thighs and lifted his lower body slightly. Then came the hot, blunt press of Lucius’s cock. “It’s a shame I couldn’t have had you when you were younger and in your prime,” Lucius said, nudging his prick against Sirius’s hole. “Bastard,” Sirius panted, glaring up at him. He hissed as he felt the head of Lucius’s cock slide into his body, stretching him further than he could have imagined. "Black, you’re so tight," Lucius ground out, pushing forwards quickly until he was hilt deep. "Tell me, how long has it been?" Sirius tried not to make a sound, nor clench, or give Lucius any extra pleasure in this. He forcefully told himself that it didn’t feel phenomenal to be fucked after all these years, that the pain and the burn wasn’t making him harder by the second, that he didn’t want Lucius to start moving, to start thrusting, to pound into him, to remind him of what he had been missing... "None of your business," he replied, trying to keep his voice under control. Lucius merely stared at him. "From the feel of it, I’d say you and the werewolf scum weren’t fucking, which surprises me." "Don’t you dare talk about Remus like that," Sirius spat. "He’s twice the man you are. And he’s straight, for your information." "Ah, but you’ve thought about him, haven’t you? Old friends reunited, two outcasts of society... I wouldn’t be surprised if you two were shacked up together somewhere-" "Oh don't even try to get information out of me Malfoy," Sirius said, ignoring the remark about Remus and consciously fighting to remain still beneath Lucius’s body. He should have known that was what Lucius was up to. And Lucius should have known that no amount of sex or torture in the world could make Sirius betray his friends. "You know it won’t work." Lucius shifted a fraction, not much but enough to make Sirius gasp. "I do. You have the Black stubborn streak, after all." He inched out a little way. "You might not believe this, but that’s not why I brought you here. I never mix business with pleasure." Rapidly losing his reign on his control, Sirius pursed his lips. "Is something the matter, Black? You look... frustrated." Move. Move, damn you! Sirius’s thighs clenched ever so slightly and he knew he had lost. Lucius’s smile was purely triumphant. "Oh, so you want it now?" He thrust once, gently. "You’re going to have to ask if you want it rough, Black." Never. Lucius’s eyes dropped to Sirius’s cock, his gaze hungry yet smug at the same time. And he kept staring while he thrust again, not too deep, not too hard. Leisurely. No. Never beg. Never beg a Malfoy for anything. Those deep, stony grey eyes seemed to caress Sirius’s length - he could almost feel it. He couldn’t recall a time when he had been looked at like that before; Lucius’s tongue whipped out across his lower lip like he was contemplating a banquet. Sirius ached for a touch, his breathing laboured. He tried not to buck himself down onto Lucius’s cock on his next thrust, the angle off just enough so Sirius didn’t feel that phenomenal rush of pleasure he so desperately needed. "Just ask," Lucius whispered, his lips barely moving. Thrust. No. No I won’t. Thrust. Never. Nevernevernever. Thrust. Oh holy God, stop. "Please..." Thrust. Thrust. And Sirius growled: "Fuck... fuck me hard... please!" He threw his head back against the pillows, cursing and panting, tasting surrender on his lips. His hips jerked desperately of their own accord, and he found himself now beyond caring that he had let Lucius win again. Without a second’s pause Lucius started to fuck him for real, drawing his strokes out deep and hard, sweeping Sirius up the bed so his knuckles knocked against the iron spokes of the headboard. The bonds fizzed quietly under the rasp of Sirius’s moans, as his whole body was rocked back and forth, impaled on Lucius’s hard length. He could hear himself as if he were in a dream, his own rhythmic cries of please and yes and harder, faster, now, now, more, ohh, yes echoing in his head. The rational part of Sirius’s brain couldn’t believe this was happening, that he was being used like this, that Lucius had got what he wanted. Sirius’s body, however, felt like it was drowning in an amalgamation of pleasure and pain, his very bones crying out for more, moremoremore. He knew he would severely regret it, providing Lucius didn’t have any plans to kill him afterwards. Before Sirius could follow that thought, Lucius rolled his hips and pounded into him, groaning, his face a pale mask of barely controlled want. And it was perfect, Sirius realised - that he was powerless against the surge of Lucius’s solid, cream-white body. That all control had been ripped from him, that the pain wasn’t due to himself, that the ache in his body wasn’t his own fault. All those years of trying to keep hold of his own sanity while in Azkaban, and afterwards - of trying not to become depressed being holed up at Grimmauld Place, of lonely nights spent with his throbbing hands cradled to his chest, of keeping a check on his feelings for Remus - none of it mattered or seemed real at that moment and it was pure bliss. Sirius came for the second time the very instant Lucius curled his fingers around his cock. He shuddered through it, tasting blood in his mouth from where he had bitten his lip, this second orgasm not as powerful as the first, but much longer, rising higher and higher like a rolling wave and then crashing through him. He arched his spine and Lucius let out a rumbling moan, stilling, spurting deep inside Sirius’s sore arse. The last thing Sirius saw was Lucius’s expression - those cold eyes wide and full of satisfaction - before the wand rose and Lucius’s mouth formed a word Sirius couldn’t hear under the rush of blood in his ears. And then blessed darkness claimed him.
Deep shadows shrouded the spacious room, and when he glanced at the wall clock it read a quarter to six. He had been out for hours. Christ, he felt knackered. With a shiver he fought the twisted bed sheets off, hoping to God that Remus hadn’t already returned from his mission to find the house empty. With that thought in mind, Sirius quickly transformed back into Padfoot and hurried out of the inn, his arse still aching pleasantly from the sex. He was half way home when he suddenly remembered the reason he had ventured to Knockturn in the first place. Shit. He cursed himself for forgetting the tiger bones for the arthritis potion. There was no way he could make it back to the Apothecary in time now, which meant he'd have to return another day; he couldn't just leave it, since the ache in his joints seemed to be growing by the week, slowly crippling him over time. With a dismal sigh, he ran the rest of the way back to Grimmauld Place and quietly let himself in. That night Sirius lay awake in his bed, his painful hands wrapped around his chest, legs curled up to his body. He felt dirty, disgusted with himself and his own behaviour. Things couldn't remain in the air like this. Something had to change in his life or he was going to go insane - the relief the sex had given him earlier that day had worn off, and now he only wished he could have more, even though he knew he shouldn't. When he finally did fall asleep some when in the early hours, he dreamed of Lucius, mocking him from above as he fucked him, a knowing smile and the flash of his teeth. The next day, exhausted, regretful and feeling lost, Sirius bit the bullet and asked Remus to travel to Knockturn for him to procure a special ingredient for a potion he was brewing. He should have known Remus wouldn't ask questions. He should have known Remus trusted him to do the right thing. He should never have left the house in the first bloody place, he realised. Before Remus left Sirius told him to be careful, though he didn't relax until the door clicked shut an hour and a half later, and a small vial of crushed tiger bones was pressed into his palm. ~Fin~ |
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