Odd Bedfellows (original) (raw)

Ron saw Professor Lupin heading towards him in the hall and grinned. He'd been intending to go catch his professor in his office, but this was better still.

"Hey, Profe--, er, Remus." He ducked his head, smile spreading. "Sorry, can't get used to calling you that yet." He smiled widely. "And, uh, about the exploded desk today, that spell was a little tricky at first."

He chuckled self-consciously, though, he thought with a proud smile, he had gotten it under control by the end of the period, without Hermione's help even, for once. He'd found himself wanting to try harder in Lupin's class lately, wanting, for reasons he didn't care to think about, to make the man notice him, praise him. "Do you have a minute?" he asked, ducking his head slightly. Lupin really was bloody gorgeous, he thought, trying not to stare. And brilliant and clever and snarky and... down boy, remember he's got the werewolf nose thing going on. He shifted his satchel slightly, hoping the answer was yes. Lupin was bloody brilliant, he was discovering, and was liking learning that.

Remus adjusted his glasses and smiled. He'd almost gotten used to Ron running into him once in a while. He'd seemed a much more eager student in the past couple months than he had earlier in the year. The past few weeks, especially.

He nodded at the desk comment and grinned lopsidedly. "I always have a minute for my students. And for you, Ron, I've got five." He looked at Ron wryly and leaned against the wall. "What do you need?"

He'd found himself noticing Ron in a way he hadn't before. The red hair, the newfound musculature from Quidditch. He'd been to a few games, and found his gaze drawn to Ron with an almost alarming frequency. He shrugged inwardly. It was hardly his fault that the boy was altogether too adorable, and had a very appealing personality, on top of his physical charms.

It wasn't as if he'd ever do anything about it, so Remus refused to make himself feel badly for it. He was only human, after all.

Ron smiled, trying to squash down the inner delight at the fact that Remus sort of... singled him out with the five comment. "It was just... okay. That stinging charm you taught us today, the one that sort of... covers the body? I mean, obviously it's not a variant of crucio, or they wouldn't let us learn it, and crucio's worse because it's just... itself, you don't have to adjust the power in the spell to get a stronger spell. But with that one... I mean, depending on how much power the wizard channeled into the spell, wouldn't it be as bad as crucio? I guess what I'm asking, is what is it that really classifies something as an unforgivable, because those two spells are so similar, I mean, is it just that the payload's different, or what?"

He paused. "Aside from the fact that most of the ministry has its head up its arse of course..." He snickered, flushing slightly. He wouldn't ordinarily speak that way around a Professor, but... it was Re-- Professor Lu-- Remus. And he knew he was deliberately thinking up questions that would make Remus think he was smarter to ask when he came by Remus' office, but... who could really blame him? And the stuff was fascinating once you got into it, really. He had every intention of pumping Bill for information about curses as soon as he could, and hopefully could wow Remus a little once he got back a reply. He knew he was being foolish, mooning over, heh, Moony, like this, since he knew there was nothing to be done about it, so no sense worrying, but he was starting to get dangerously addicted to their conversations, and would even if he weren't really attracted to Remus.

Remus took his glasses off and cleaned them. He didn't need them, really. He just thought they made him look more academic. His eyesight was a little bad, a little nearsighted, but he didn't truly require glasses unless he had some reason to need to read something several feet away and in smallish print. He looked at Ron with a satisfied grin.

"I'll let you in on a little secret. There's one big, huge, stinking difference between a forgivable, like the Stinging Charm, and an Unforgivable, like Cruciatus. Wanna know what it is? I'll warn you, it's scary, not meant for young ears...Or old ones, for that matter."

He leaned in and put his lips close to Ron's ear and whispered.

"Bureaucracy."

He leaned back and winked and shuddered.

"There, now. I hope I've not scarred you for life?" Remus grinned and put his glasses back on. He could now see the speck on the wall was a small spider, not just a blob of indiscriminate origins. He knew Ron hated spiders; he couldn't remember how he knew, but he did.

Taking Ron's arm gently, he led him a few feet down the hall in the opposite direction, not wanting his student to catch sight of the little creature and have a freak out, possibly feel embarrassed.

"Does that help, or is more explanation needed?"

Oh, yeah, I'm gone on him, Ron thought, fighting not to lean into the hand on his arm. He wondered a little at that, Remus hadn't seemed big on touching before, though maybe he hadn't noticed before. He sure as hell noticed now, and god help him but Remus' lips so close to his ear were going to haunt his dreams. "No, that helps," Ron said, half-smiling. God he looks adorable in glasses... or without them... Ron fought the urge to thud his hand against his forehead. He needed a cold shower.

"I gotta ask though..."

Remus removed his hand from Ron's arm and looked at him with a pleasant expression.

"Yes? Ask away, if you 'gotta'..." His look turned a little playful. He was in an uncommonly good mood today. Part of Remus knew he'd felt a little happier upon seeing Ron in the hallway a few minutes ago, but he pushed this away. He'd think on that some other time.

Ron couldn't help a rather stupid smile echoing Remus' playful one. Remus definitely needed to smile more like that, it looked good on him. "D'you really need the glasses, or are they just to make us think that you're more professorly and less fun," he blurted. Oh shit. That hadn't been what he'd mean to say at ALL. He'd had some really good intelligent question waiting too.

Remus laughed and shook his head. "Do you think I need glasses to look professorly? Or less...Fun?" His smile turned up on one side and Remus wondered if he was really doing what it seemed.

No. He wasn't. He wasn't flirting with the kid, he just...He wasn't.

"I don't really need them, but my vision is just bad enough that they make things look sharper to me. And, of course, they make it easier to see students goofing off in the back rows when they're supposed to be working. Not that I'd need glasses to see such things as...Well. For instance, exploding desks. No glasses needed to see that."

He smiled wider and chuckled. He glanced at his watch. He'd need to go on to his office soon, but he really enjoyed talking to Ron.

Ron blinked at Remus. Twice. Remus couldn't be... no, he was just joking around, there was no way in shit that.... "I didn't mean to make the desk explode you know, I was just practicing the spell..." He was grinning when he said it though.

Ron caught Remus looking at his watch and sighed. "I'm keeping you, aren't I..." The last thing he wanted was for Remus to start thinking of him as the nuisance that delayed him getting to work though... Remus had seemed like he was having fun.

"Important papers to grade, students who were exploding desks to fail, all that?"

Remus shook his head. "You're not keeping me." He sighed, but smiled as he did so."Well, yes, you are, actually, but I'd rather stand here talking to you than go grade the first year essays. If I had my way, I wouldn't be teaching them Defence Against the Dark Arts; I'd be teaching them Defence Against the Bad Grammar." He shrugged. "It's a chore, I wonder what some of these kids learn before coming here. I wonder if some of them have any schooling at all, to be honest. But, no, I won't be failing you for the desk thing. A few weeks of detention should suffice."

He grinned wryly. "Grading first year essays in my office, maybe, while I read a good book and sip a whiskey? Would serve you right, you could have put someone's eye out with a desk fragment." He laughed. "Not likely, though. No harm done. I'm just joking with you, Ron."

"In that case, I consider it my duty as your favorite student to protect you from the grammerless munchkins." Ron snorted. As if he were Remus' favorite student, and even if he were, that was an awfully pretentious thing to say. "I am your favorite student, aren't I?" He smiled wryly, self-deprecatingly, knowing full well that that wasn't true. "And now I'm the one just kidding with you." He paused.

"My spelling might not be perfect, but I remember enough of first year theory I could give you a hand if you like," Ron offered, almost without thinking. He bit his lip as soon as he'd said it, wondering if there was a prize for stupidity. Remus had a TA for that purpose, and students actually serving detention. But... actually the thought of grading papers with Remus, laughing together over some particularly Lockhart-esque mistake, was... really appealing.

Remus looked thoughtful for a moment, actually considering. And the answer came with such clarity, it almost showed in his expression. Almost, but not quite.

"You are my favorite student, actually..."

He hadn't meant to say that out loud, but he had. And now...

Now the thought was driven from his mind as he caught a scent on the slight breeze running through the old stone walls.

A scent he'd not experienced in over three years, one he'd memorized then as surely as he'd memorized anything in his life.

But no, it couldn't be.

"No way. No. Fucking. Way."

Remus hadn't even registered that he'd spoken in such a way in front of a student. His eyes took on a bit of a wild expression and he looked past Ron, darting down the hall behind him without another word.

Ron lit up, he couldn't help it. He knew his smile was too wide and sappy, but... Remus was so matter of fact. He was about to respond when Remus suddenly looked past him. Ron was about to make a joke but the look on Remus' face tied his stomach in knots. Something was wrong, and he felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up straight. "Remus..." He trailed off not sure what to say, and turned to look behind them. "What's wr--...ong." He broke off when he realized that he was talking to the back of Remus' head. Ron swore to himself and followed, too worried to even try and stare at Remus' arse.

Remus might have that werewolf thing going for him, but Ron had long legs, and had been running from the twins since he could walk, so he was able to quickly catch up. They rounded the corner and Ron skidded to a stop, his feet simply forgetting to move. "No. Fucking. Way." He didn't even care that he was echoing Remus, but... it was impossible. It had to be some kind of very fucked-up and un-funny joke.

Remus froze, unable to reconcile what he was seeing.

Two wizards, dressed in the distinctive robes of Aurors, accompanying...

Peter Pettigrew.

No, this couldn't be right.

But it was. He smelled it. Knew it. Had to believe it.

The Aurors stopped and looked to him and Ron, who he could tell was right behind him. Peter stopped as well, and looked at both Remus and behind him, to Ron. The expression on his face was impossible to decipher.

Remus wanted to go over and beat the living shit out of Peter. He wanted to scream at him, kick him, hurt him. But he was so shocked, so unprepared, that he merely stood there staring at the other man, mouth open and eyes wide.

Ron was trembling faintly. He couldn't help it. But... aurors or no, that was... Him. That was the reason his best friend didn't have parents, the reason Remus didn't have friends, the reason he--... 'I let you sleep in my bed...' he could hear his eleven year old voice as clearly in his head as yesterday and... though the clothing was a bit cleaner, the hair and nails neater, Pettigrew hadn't changed much. At all. He felt like he was going to be sick, and had to fight down the rolling in his stomach, had to fight not to find Remus' hand and cling because... that was... gods, he shouldn't be here. But Ron couldn't do anything other than stand and stare, hands clenched into fists at his sides.

"Remus... I..." Pettigrew's face was ashy, voice high and stuttering. "R-ron..."

Ron jumped slightly at his name, face sheet white under its freckles.

"Peter, perhaps it would be best if you remained silent for the time being."

Ron's head snapped up at the familiar, wise voice. Dumbledore. The old wizard stepped from the shadows behind Peter and the aurors, drawing his robes around him carefully. "Remus... Ron..." He inclined his head at each of them, no twinkle present, for once.

Remus dragged his gaze from Peter to Albus, fists clenching and unclenching. He itched to just clock the rat.

"Albus." Remus voice was strained and flat, controlled to the point of being brittle. "What...is this....person? Doing here?" He took another step forward, and got a small satisfied feeling when Peter flinched back.

"He is here at my invitation, Remus." Dumbledore chided. "And he shall leave unmolested."

Remus stared at Albus. He loved the old man like a father, but....This was pushing even the limits of his affections.

"I see." He turned to Peter, expression banked fury. "Don't you ever...ever...Call me 'Remus' again. As a matter of fact." He took a step closer and smiled, a truly scary smile with no warmth evident. "Don't call me anything. You are dead to me, Pettigrew. Dead." He leaned in, invading Peter's space. The rat flinched again. Remus' whisper was soft and bland, all the more menacing for it's total lack of emotion. "And if I have my way, you'll be dead to everyone else soon, too."

Remus stepped back and looked to Albus. He nodded curtly and turned, striding off down the corridor towards his office.

Ron didn't even turn to watch Remus go, his eyes were still locked on Pettigrew, and occasionally casting over to Dumbledore. He didn't fully trust Dumbledore, and hadn't for a long time, maybe not since he'd really realized how shitty things were for Harry, maybe since the battle at the Ministry, but... his eyes were still brimful of betrayal. "Your invitation?!" he echoed, wondering if there was a new definition of 'invitation' and someone just hadn't given him the memo.

"You won't harm him, Mr. Weasley," Dumbledore said firmly, meeting Ron's eyes. Ron looked back, still trembling faintly, then turned on his heel. He walked briskly until he turned a corner and then broke into a run, getting himself to the dorms as fast as his feet would carry him, not caring what anyone he passed, knocked over, or bumped into thought. He barely made it to the boys bathroom before he threw up, and slumped against the stall's door, shaking, tears streaking lightly down his cheeks. He rinsed his mouth in the sink and went to his bed, drawing the four-poster's curtains and locking them with a hasty, shaking-voiced charm and tossing up a silencing charm for good measure. He curled into as small a ball as he could fold his long frame into, head hidden under the pillow, praying for the world to go away.

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