buon natale
by:![[info]](http://www.journalfen.net/img/userinfo.gif)
snottygrrl
rating: PG
paring:none, pre-h/d if you squint
spoilers: hpb
summary: post-war, remus and harry visit florence and find someone unexpected.
warnings: none
disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
This author is not responsible for underage readers. Please observe the ratings, warnings, and age of legal consent for your country.
author's notes: i had a bugger of a time with this fic. when i signed up forcelandineb's fic exchange, i never expected it to be such a challenge. this is for fungus_files, unpaired, remus gen because she asked for it, and it wouldn't leave me alone. only sorta beta'd because i didn't finish in time to let fran see it after her first look when it was 3/4 done. big [*smooches*] and undying gratitude for her help and encouragement. also ((hugs)) to mum and Bro who helped with italian stuff.
the pensione remus and harry stay in is hotel san marco. blunt was one of the four cambridge spies, british agents who spied for the kgb.
word count: 2580
It didn’t take much for Remus to persuade Harry to let him come along.
He wasn’t sure why it was so important to him. Unresolved duty to James and Sirius he supposed. That, and Harry looked so lost despite his twenty-three years and battle-weary demeanor. Having become the most powerful wizard alive had only seemed to confuse matters further for Harry.
So, when Harry said he was going to mainland Europe for a long holiday, Remus responded with, “Great, I love the continent. When do we leave?”
Harry eyed him warily for a bit, before asking if Hermione had assigned Remus to watch over him and attempt to get Harry to cheer up. After securing Remus’ promise that she hadn’t, Harry grudgingly asked if leaving in a week would suit.
It turned out they were excellent travel companions, both equally content to quietly peruse museums and libraries or stroll around gardens and historic buildings. Perhaps even more importantly, both were just as at home in either the Muggle or the Wizarding worlds.
By mid-December they had quite thoroughly explored France and Spain, and decided to head for Italy to spend the remainder of the Advent Season and Christmas.
“It seems only right to be in the same country as the Pope when folk are celebrating the birth of Jesus,” Harry reasoned, and Remus could hardly find fault with that statement.
It was somewhat ironic, therefore, that Christmas Eve day found them departing a train in Florence and not Rome.
Remus had always loved Florence. His parents had gone there for their Honeymoon, and his mother used to tell him lovely tales of their trip when he was young. She had promised he would go there some day.
After Voldemort fell the first time, when Remus had had nothing but bitter memories and a condition that needed concealing, he had traveled. A lot. Florence was the first place he went to that could actually make him forget the horrors.
He remembered distinctly the moment he had first seen the Duomo. To this day he still couldn’t describe the wonder of coming upon the beautiful cathedral stuck in among the tiny streets, the impressive bulk invisible until you rounded the corner and there it was.
He had ended up staying in Florence for months, the museums and the art a balm to his war-ravaged soul. Hours upon hours were spent in the Medici Chapel attempting to draw the works of Michelangelo. There were days of wandering through the Uffizzi, examining the old masters. Remus had revisited the city often since then, but hadn’t been there in quite some time. He was looking forward to sharing its wonders with Harry.
They checked into a small pensione just down the road from the Duomo, before setting off in search of food.
It was Remus who saw him first. Well, actually, Remus might not have noticed the slight figure in the crowd if he hadn’t followed Harry’s appreciative gaze, however it was Remus who knew whom they were looking at.
It didn’t matter that his hair was as dark as Harry’s, or that his olive skin matched the other Florentines, Remus knew the man’s scent almost better than his own.
Endless days trapped in a cell with someone will do that. Days when the pull of the moon is getting stronger and stronger, when the gentle tending of injuries gives stark contrast to the beast lurking beneath and scarce comfort. Nights of fitful sleep as the question hangs in the air as to which gruesome version of the inevitable will happen that fateful eve.
Three Christmases might have passed, but the werewolf would have recognized Draco Malfoy’s unique smell anywhere.
Remus’ gaze flicked between the two former enemies, certain that Harry had no idea who it was that mesmerized him so. Harry’s eyes were glued to the other man in a way that Remus had not seen in a long time. Draco tensed the moment he noticed he was being watched and Remus knew the instant Draco realised who they were, the odor of his fear unmistakable.
Draco started to turn away and Remus fully expected him to disappear into the crowd. He was not a little surprised, therefore, to find Draco pivoting back around and sauntering towards them instead.
“Lupin. Potter.” He nodded gracefully to each of them. “Can I help you find what you are looking for?”
Harry was gaping, slack jawed. “M-Ma-Malfoy?” he finally managed.
Draco smirked. “Observant as always, Potter.” At Harry’s continued gawking Draco shifted his attention to Remus. “You really should train him not to stare, you know.” He quirked an eyebrow in the patented Malfoy style. “You seem almost as surprised to see me as he is. Don’t tell me your nose failed you this time. Or did you think I was going to run when you found me?” His voice held an underlying current of betrayal that was almost obscured by the wave of bitterness.
“I thought you were dead, as does the rest of the Wizarding world,” Remus replied quietly.
Before he could continue, Harry broke in. “Still the same, self-centered wanker, Malfoy!” he spat. Harry, obviously recovered from the shock of Draco’s sudden reappearance, was behaving in his usual way when caught off guard; he turned nasty. “Did it ever occur to you that we weren’t looking for you? That it might be sheer dumb luck that you saw us? That no one even cares if you’re alive?”
A mixture of emotions flashed across Draco’s face before the familiar shuttered look that Remus remembered from his days teaching at Hogwarts took their place. Remus didn’t pretend he could identify them all, but he recognised the pain and loneliness.
“My mistake, I’ll not trouble you further, Potter. Professor.” Draco nodded to Remus and wheeled about.
Before he got far, however, Harry reached out and grabbed his arm, pulling him roughly back. “Not so fast, Malfoy,” he hissed. “Surely you’ll want to accompany us on our return to England. See the charred remains of your childhood home. Visit the graves. Dumbledore’s. Pansy’s. Goyle’s. Your dear old parents’. Oh wait, that’s right, they never did find your mother’s body.”
Draco was rigid in his grasp, his face a blank mask.
“Harry, stop.” Remus’ words were quiet, belying the harsh edged command and Harry froze. “It’s Christmas Eve, Harry. Leave him be.” The voice was gentler, but brooked no argument. With reluctance, Harry released his hold. “Please excuse Harry, Draco. Nearly two years of peacetime have done nothing to improve his manners, I’m afraid.” Remus was pleased to see a slight smirk reappear on Draco’s face, as his posture relaxed slightly. “I, for one, care very much that you’re alive and judging from Harry’s reaction both before and after he discovered who you are, he does too.” Harry glared. “I don’t suppose you’d be willing to share a spot of tea with us? No strings. We could catch each other up.” Noting Draco’s cautious glance towards Harry, he added, “I promise Harry will be good, won’t you Harry?”
Draco’s sharp bark of laughter deepened Harry’s scowl. “How will you ensure that? Take away his wand?”
“I don’t need a wand these days, Malfoy.” The statement seemed to be somewhere between a boast and a threat.
Draco’s brows rose as he looked questioningly at Remus, who sighed. “He’s telling the truth, he doesn’t. He’s just not supposed to be advertising that fact. No, I’m counting on good old Gryffindor honesty. Harry?”
Harry’s jaw clenched but he nodded sharply. “I won’t hex him if he doesn’t hex me.”
“Excellent! Draco?”
With a casual shrug, Draco agreed. “Sure, why not.” He seemed to debate for a moment, “Mind if I suggest a place? It’s a little out of the way, Caters to locals, not tourists. I could take you there.”
“Like we’d follow you anyw-“ Harry began hotly, only to be cut off by Remus.
“By all means. Sounds wonderful. Lead the way.”
Draco started off with Remus at his side and Harry trailing sulkily behind.
The peace Remus always felt when visiting Florence stole through him as they wound through the tiny backstreets. Once at the trattoria, they ordered and sat back, glasses of wine in hand.
Draco turned to Remus, and without preamble asked, “What do you remember from that night?”
There was no doubt in Remus’ mind as to what night he meant. “Not a lot past the change really. I don’t retain much from my time as a wolf, even with the Wolfsbane Potion. And remember, Severus wasn’t able to slip me the full set of required doses, either.” Remus paused, recalling the vivid images and feelings of that night and attempting to corral them into words. “My experiences when the moon is full are recorded in simple terms, mostly as shapes and smells and innate knowledge. I knew you as part of my wolf pack, and injured besides. Knew it was my duty to keep you safe and warm. Later, when we woke and Severus was there my memory is even more spotty. I considered him wolf pack too, less familiar than you, but pack nonetheless. I remember tunnels and dangers and fighting and finally open air. Then there was more fighting. We were separated. I recall trying to get back to you, blood, pain and blackness.” Draco nodded, his expression grim. “When I woke, it was Christmas Eve, two days past the full moon, and I was in the hospital wing at Hogwarts. The Order had found me, alone, a day earlier. Later, we located Severus’ body not far from where they’d discovered me. I’d just assumed you had been killed as well.”
“Hang on,” interjected Harry. “What evening? What are you two talking about? When were you with Snape and Malfoy?”
Draco looked surprised. “He doesn’t know? Surely you told the Order all about it.” His eyes narrowed. “Or perhaps you left out the part about taking care of a wanted Death Eater.”
“Of course I told them. Harry was a little pre-occupied at the time hunting down Voldemort’s Horcruxes.” Directing his next words to Harry, Remus continued, “It was just over four years ago. You must remember when the Order found Severus dead.”
“Of courses, best Christmas present ever,” Harry said with relish. His smile widened at Draco’s scowl. “You’d just escaped from capture right before that.” The light seemed to dawn. “Snape and Malfoy were there?”
Remus nodded. “Draco shared a cell with me for those two weeks. The Death Eaters thought it would be a lark to see what I’d do to him come the full moon. They loved to taunt us about it as the time drew closer.”
“I believe the betting odds were 5 to 1 as to whether Lupin’d kill me or just maul and infect me,” added Draco.
Harry was gawking again. “Wait, wait. Why would they want their favorite Junior Death Eater killed?”
Remus looked equally curious. “I’ve always wondered that too. When they first threw me in with you, you weren’t coherent enough to tell me anything. I kept thinking how ridiculous it was that I was trying to tend and heal you when I was most likely going to kill you savagely before the month was out. By the time you were consistently conscious, Severus was slipping me Wolfsbane Potion, and our conversations consisted of cryptic escape plans.”
“They’d finally figured out I had been supplying information to Lupin for over a year,” responded Draco, nonchalantly.
“You’re Blunt?” Harry’s tone was incredulous.
A small smile lit Remus’ face. “Of course! A la Cambridge.” He chuckled. “Did Severus know?”
“Not until they’d been torturing me for a few days.” A frown creased Draco’s forehead. “He was furious with me.”
“And proud to busting too, I’ll wager. He cared for you a great deal, Draco. You know he wouldn’t have risked what he did for anyone but you.”
They were silent for a moment.
“So what actually did happen that night, Malfoy? How’d you manage to save your lily-white arse?” Harry seemed genuinely curious, his earlier animosity all but evaporated.
“Don’t have a real clear memory myself.” Draco shrugged. “I was still in pretty bad shape at the time. The beginning and the end are most memorable. I can see the moonrise and Lupin’s subsequent change like it happened last night. Watching it all with horrified fascination, I didn’t know if it would lead to my rescue or my death. I’m not sure what I expected, but it wasn’t a giant wolf nana.” He snickered. ”We rested for a while, Lupin curled around me. It was the best I’d slept in ages, my head pillowed on warm fur, heat seeping through my weary body.” His sigh made Remus suspect that perhaps, even four years later, he didn’t often find that kind of peace. “What happened after Severus showed up is kind of fuzzy. Nana Lupin wouldn’t leave my side. I had my hand fisted in his fur as Severus led us through, and out of, the dungeons we were being kept in. There were Death Eaters, but the fighting was minimal. They seemed to be too frightened of a werewolf and those who seemingly tamed it. I don’t think it occurred to them that Wolfsbane was involved.” Draco stopped, lost in thought.
“And?”
Remus smiled at Harry’s impatient query, noting the way his traveling companion unconsciously leaned towards Draco, Harry’s eyes once again intent on the other man.
“We’d made it into the woods outside and I thought maybe we were going to be alright, when we ran into my Father and some others returning from a mission. All I remember is a lot of chaos and spells flying everywhere. Lupin and Severus were fighting like those possessed. At the sudden silence of a wolf’s cry, I was sure it was the end. Severus was on his knees when he pushed the Portkey into my hand.” Obviously shaken, Draco stopped again.
“And you’ve been in hiding ever since.” If only Remus had known Draco had survived, he would have… well, he wasn’t sure what he would have done, but he bloody well would have done something. “Why didn’t Blunt try to reach me? Ask for my help?”
“I thought you were dead, Lupin.” Staring at his hands, Draco looked slightly ill at ease. “Besides, I’m not sure I would have tried even if I hadn’t believed that. The Order wouldn’t have wanted to deal with me, I’d’ve most likely got shipped to Azkaban.” Remus chose not to correct Draco’s erroneous beliefs. “I ended up keeping a very low profile and being constantly on the move until the Dark Lord was killed. After that I settled here.”
“Is the colouring magic or Muggle?”
Harry’s question caused Draco to laugh, breaking the tension. “Muggle. I don’t do a lot of magic these days.”
“You know,” said Remus casually, “I’ll wager Blunt could still get a pardon if the right people asked for it, wouldn’t you say, Harry?”
“Absolutely, his information was invaluable in identifying the Ravenclaw Horcrux, not to mention the many times he warned us of impending attacks. Saved quite a few lives, my own included. I’ve often wished I could thank him.” Harry’s eyes stayed on Draco as he spoke. “What about you, Malfoy? Think Blunt’d like that?”
“Yes, I’m sure he would.”
Remus lifted his glass. “Happy Christmas, Draco.”
“Buon Natale, Professore.”
~fin
[*wipes brow*] um, hope you enjoyed. comments are like christmas presents.
by:
snottygrrlrating: PG
paring:none, pre-h/d if you squint
spoilers: hpb
summary: post-war, remus and harry visit florence and find someone unexpected.
warnings: none
disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
This author is not responsible for underage readers. Please observe the ratings, warnings, and age of legal consent for your country.
author's notes: i had a bugger of a time with this fic. when i signed up for
celandineb's fic exchange, i never expected it to be such a challenge. this is for fungus_files, unpaired, remus gen because she asked for it, and it wouldn't leave me alone. only sorta beta'd because i didn't finish in time to let fran see it after her first look when it was 3/4 done. big [*smooches*] and undying gratitude for her help and encouragement. also ((hugs)) to mum and Bro who helped with italian stuff.the pensione remus and harry stay in is hotel san marco. blunt was one of the four cambridge spies, british agents who spied for the kgb.
word count: 2580
It didn’t take much for Remus to persuade Harry to let him come along.
He wasn’t sure why it was so important to him. Unresolved duty to James and Sirius he supposed. That, and Harry looked so lost despite his twenty-three years and battle-weary demeanor. Having become the most powerful wizard alive had only seemed to confuse matters further for Harry.
So, when Harry said he was going to mainland Europe for a long holiday, Remus responded with, “Great, I love the continent. When do we leave?”
Harry eyed him warily for a bit, before asking if Hermione had assigned Remus to watch over him and attempt to get Harry to cheer up. After securing Remus’ promise that she hadn’t, Harry grudgingly asked if leaving in a week would suit.
It turned out they were excellent travel companions, both equally content to quietly peruse museums and libraries or stroll around gardens and historic buildings. Perhaps even more importantly, both were just as at home in either the Muggle or the Wizarding worlds.
By mid-December they had quite thoroughly explored France and Spain, and decided to head for Italy to spend the remainder of the Advent Season and Christmas.
“It seems only right to be in the same country as the Pope when folk are celebrating the birth of Jesus,” Harry reasoned, and Remus could hardly find fault with that statement.
It was somewhat ironic, therefore, that Christmas Eve day found them departing a train in Florence and not Rome.
Remus had always loved Florence. His parents had gone there for their Honeymoon, and his mother used to tell him lovely tales of their trip when he was young. She had promised he would go there some day.
After Voldemort fell the first time, when Remus had had nothing but bitter memories and a condition that needed concealing, he had traveled. A lot. Florence was the first place he went to that could actually make him forget the horrors.
He remembered distinctly the moment he had first seen the Duomo. To this day he still couldn’t describe the wonder of coming upon the beautiful cathedral stuck in among the tiny streets, the impressive bulk invisible until you rounded the corner and there it was.
He had ended up staying in Florence for months, the museums and the art a balm to his war-ravaged soul. Hours upon hours were spent in the Medici Chapel attempting to draw the works of Michelangelo. There were days of wandering through the Uffizzi, examining the old masters. Remus had revisited the city often since then, but hadn’t been there in quite some time. He was looking forward to sharing its wonders with Harry.
They checked into a small pensione just down the road from the Duomo, before setting off in search of food.
It was Remus who saw him first. Well, actually, Remus might not have noticed the slight figure in the crowd if he hadn’t followed Harry’s appreciative gaze, however it was Remus who knew whom they were looking at.
It didn’t matter that his hair was as dark as Harry’s, or that his olive skin matched the other Florentines, Remus knew the man’s scent almost better than his own.
Endless days trapped in a cell with someone will do that. Days when the pull of the moon is getting stronger and stronger, when the gentle tending of injuries gives stark contrast to the beast lurking beneath and scarce comfort. Nights of fitful sleep as the question hangs in the air as to which gruesome version of the inevitable will happen that fateful eve.
Three Christmases might have passed, but the werewolf would have recognized Draco Malfoy’s unique smell anywhere.
Remus’ gaze flicked between the two former enemies, certain that Harry had no idea who it was that mesmerized him so. Harry’s eyes were glued to the other man in a way that Remus had not seen in a long time. Draco tensed the moment he noticed he was being watched and Remus knew the instant Draco realised who they were, the odor of his fear unmistakable.
Draco started to turn away and Remus fully expected him to disappear into the crowd. He was not a little surprised, therefore, to find Draco pivoting back around and sauntering towards them instead.
“Lupin. Potter.” He nodded gracefully to each of them. “Can I help you find what you are looking for?”
Harry was gaping, slack jawed. “M-Ma-Malfoy?” he finally managed.
Draco smirked. “Observant as always, Potter.” At Harry’s continued gawking Draco shifted his attention to Remus. “You really should train him not to stare, you know.” He quirked an eyebrow in the patented Malfoy style. “You seem almost as surprised to see me as he is. Don’t tell me your nose failed you this time. Or did you think I was going to run when you found me?” His voice held an underlying current of betrayal that was almost obscured by the wave of bitterness.
“I thought you were dead, as does the rest of the Wizarding world,” Remus replied quietly.
Before he could continue, Harry broke in. “Still the same, self-centered wanker, Malfoy!” he spat. Harry, obviously recovered from the shock of Draco’s sudden reappearance, was behaving in his usual way when caught off guard; he turned nasty. “Did it ever occur to you that we weren’t looking for you? That it might be sheer dumb luck that you saw us? That no one even cares if you’re alive?”
A mixture of emotions flashed across Draco’s face before the familiar shuttered look that Remus remembered from his days teaching at Hogwarts took their place. Remus didn’t pretend he could identify them all, but he recognised the pain and loneliness.
“My mistake, I’ll not trouble you further, Potter. Professor.” Draco nodded to Remus and wheeled about.
Before he got far, however, Harry reached out and grabbed his arm, pulling him roughly back. “Not so fast, Malfoy,” he hissed. “Surely you’ll want to accompany us on our return to England. See the charred remains of your childhood home. Visit the graves. Dumbledore’s. Pansy’s. Goyle’s. Your dear old parents’. Oh wait, that’s right, they never did find your mother’s body.”
Draco was rigid in his grasp, his face a blank mask.
“Harry, stop.” Remus’ words were quiet, belying the harsh edged command and Harry froze. “It’s Christmas Eve, Harry. Leave him be.” The voice was gentler, but brooked no argument. With reluctance, Harry released his hold. “Please excuse Harry, Draco. Nearly two years of peacetime have done nothing to improve his manners, I’m afraid.” Remus was pleased to see a slight smirk reappear on Draco’s face, as his posture relaxed slightly. “I, for one, care very much that you’re alive and judging from Harry’s reaction both before and after he discovered who you are, he does too.” Harry glared. “I don’t suppose you’d be willing to share a spot of tea with us? No strings. We could catch each other up.” Noting Draco’s cautious glance towards Harry, he added, “I promise Harry will be good, won’t you Harry?”
Draco’s sharp bark of laughter deepened Harry’s scowl. “How will you ensure that? Take away his wand?”
“I don’t need a wand these days, Malfoy.” The statement seemed to be somewhere between a boast and a threat.
Draco’s brows rose as he looked questioningly at Remus, who sighed. “He’s telling the truth, he doesn’t. He’s just not supposed to be advertising that fact. No, I’m counting on good old Gryffindor honesty. Harry?”
Harry’s jaw clenched but he nodded sharply. “I won’t hex him if he doesn’t hex me.”
“Excellent! Draco?”
With a casual shrug, Draco agreed. “Sure, why not.” He seemed to debate for a moment, “Mind if I suggest a place? It’s a little out of the way, Caters to locals, not tourists. I could take you there.”
“Like we’d follow you anyw-“ Harry began hotly, only to be cut off by Remus.
“By all means. Sounds wonderful. Lead the way.”
Draco started off with Remus at his side and Harry trailing sulkily behind.
The peace Remus always felt when visiting Florence stole through him as they wound through the tiny backstreets. Once at the trattoria, they ordered and sat back, glasses of wine in hand.
Draco turned to Remus, and without preamble asked, “What do you remember from that night?”
There was no doubt in Remus’ mind as to what night he meant. “Not a lot past the change really. I don’t retain much from my time as a wolf, even with the Wolfsbane Potion. And remember, Severus wasn’t able to slip me the full set of required doses, either.” Remus paused, recalling the vivid images and feelings of that night and attempting to corral them into words. “My experiences when the moon is full are recorded in simple terms, mostly as shapes and smells and innate knowledge. I knew you as part of my wolf pack, and injured besides. Knew it was my duty to keep you safe and warm. Later, when we woke and Severus was there my memory is even more spotty. I considered him wolf pack too, less familiar than you, but pack nonetheless. I remember tunnels and dangers and fighting and finally open air. Then there was more fighting. We were separated. I recall trying to get back to you, blood, pain and blackness.” Draco nodded, his expression grim. “When I woke, it was Christmas Eve, two days past the full moon, and I was in the hospital wing at Hogwarts. The Order had found me, alone, a day earlier. Later, we located Severus’ body not far from where they’d discovered me. I’d just assumed you had been killed as well.”
“Hang on,” interjected Harry. “What evening? What are you two talking about? When were you with Snape and Malfoy?”
Draco looked surprised. “He doesn’t know? Surely you told the Order all about it.” His eyes narrowed. “Or perhaps you left out the part about taking care of a wanted Death Eater.”
“Of course I told them. Harry was a little pre-occupied at the time hunting down Voldemort’s Horcruxes.” Directing his next words to Harry, Remus continued, “It was just over four years ago. You must remember when the Order found Severus dead.”
“Of courses, best Christmas present ever,” Harry said with relish. His smile widened at Draco’s scowl. “You’d just escaped from capture right before that.” The light seemed to dawn. “Snape and Malfoy were there?”
Remus nodded. “Draco shared a cell with me for those two weeks. The Death Eaters thought it would be a lark to see what I’d do to him come the full moon. They loved to taunt us about it as the time drew closer.”
“I believe the betting odds were 5 to 1 as to whether Lupin’d kill me or just maul and infect me,” added Draco.
Harry was gawking again. “Wait, wait. Why would they want their favorite Junior Death Eater killed?”
Remus looked equally curious. “I’ve always wondered that too. When they first threw me in with you, you weren’t coherent enough to tell me anything. I kept thinking how ridiculous it was that I was trying to tend and heal you when I was most likely going to kill you savagely before the month was out. By the time you were consistently conscious, Severus was slipping me Wolfsbane Potion, and our conversations consisted of cryptic escape plans.”
“They’d finally figured out I had been supplying information to Lupin for over a year,” responded Draco, nonchalantly.
“You’re Blunt?” Harry’s tone was incredulous.
A small smile lit Remus’ face. “Of course! A la Cambridge.” He chuckled. “Did Severus know?”
“Not until they’d been torturing me for a few days.” A frown creased Draco’s forehead. “He was furious with me.”
“And proud to busting too, I’ll wager. He cared for you a great deal, Draco. You know he wouldn’t have risked what he did for anyone but you.”
They were silent for a moment.
“So what actually did happen that night, Malfoy? How’d you manage to save your lily-white arse?” Harry seemed genuinely curious, his earlier animosity all but evaporated.
“Don’t have a real clear memory myself.” Draco shrugged. “I was still in pretty bad shape at the time. The beginning and the end are most memorable. I can see the moonrise and Lupin’s subsequent change like it happened last night. Watching it all with horrified fascination, I didn’t know if it would lead to my rescue or my death. I’m not sure what I expected, but it wasn’t a giant wolf nana.” He snickered. ”We rested for a while, Lupin curled around me. It was the best I’d slept in ages, my head pillowed on warm fur, heat seeping through my weary body.” His sigh made Remus suspect that perhaps, even four years later, he didn’t often find that kind of peace. “What happened after Severus showed up is kind of fuzzy. Nana Lupin wouldn’t leave my side. I had my hand fisted in his fur as Severus led us through, and out of, the dungeons we were being kept in. There were Death Eaters, but the fighting was minimal. They seemed to be too frightened of a werewolf and those who seemingly tamed it. I don’t think it occurred to them that Wolfsbane was involved.” Draco stopped, lost in thought.
“And?”
Remus smiled at Harry’s impatient query, noting the way his traveling companion unconsciously leaned towards Draco, Harry’s eyes once again intent on the other man.
“We’d made it into the woods outside and I thought maybe we were going to be alright, when we ran into my Father and some others returning from a mission. All I remember is a lot of chaos and spells flying everywhere. Lupin and Severus were fighting like those possessed. At the sudden silence of a wolf’s cry, I was sure it was the end. Severus was on his knees when he pushed the Portkey into my hand.” Obviously shaken, Draco stopped again.
“And you’ve been in hiding ever since.” If only Remus had known Draco had survived, he would have… well, he wasn’t sure what he would have done, but he bloody well would have done something. “Why didn’t Blunt try to reach me? Ask for my help?”
“I thought you were dead, Lupin.” Staring at his hands, Draco looked slightly ill at ease. “Besides, I’m not sure I would have tried even if I hadn’t believed that. The Order wouldn’t have wanted to deal with me, I’d’ve most likely got shipped to Azkaban.” Remus chose not to correct Draco’s erroneous beliefs. “I ended up keeping a very low profile and being constantly on the move until the Dark Lord was killed. After that I settled here.”
“Is the colouring magic or Muggle?”
Harry’s question caused Draco to laugh, breaking the tension. “Muggle. I don’t do a lot of magic these days.”
“You know,” said Remus casually, “I’ll wager Blunt could still get a pardon if the right people asked for it, wouldn’t you say, Harry?”
“Absolutely, his information was invaluable in identifying the Ravenclaw Horcrux, not to mention the many times he warned us of impending attacks. Saved quite a few lives, my own included. I’ve often wished I could thank him.” Harry’s eyes stayed on Draco as he spoke. “What about you, Malfoy? Think Blunt’d like that?”
“Yes, I’m sure he would.”
Remus lifted his glass. “Happy Christmas, Draco.”
“Buon Natale, Professore.”
~fin
[*wipes brow*] um, hope you enjoyed. comments are like christmas presents.