Hi! *waves* I'm new here and posting my last pre-HBP story as a way to introduce myself!

Title: Learning to Survive
Author: Magic of Isis
Summary: Remus Lupin takes on the task of helping Harry survive the aftermath of his fifth year. Harry’s not the only one trying to cope.
Pairing: Harry/Remus
Rating: NC-17
Author’s Notes: A bit of angst, a bit of smut – it’s all good. Warning for Harry being just barely sixteen. Another fic in my Sheryl Crow series, this one is loosely based on the song Weather Channel. Dedicated to the uberwonderful Kate, my own personal coping mechanism, and a damn fine beta reader, too!



~*~*~

Just like before there’s a black dog
That scratches my door
He’s been growling my name saying
You better get to running

Can you make it better for me
Can you make me see the light of day
Because I got no one who will bring me a
Big umbrella so I’m watching the weather channel
And waiting for the storm

It’s just sugar, just a pill to make me happy
I know it may not fix the hinges
But at least the door has stopped it’s creaking

~ from Weather Channel by Sheryl Crow

~*~*~

Remus supposed it was a good thing that everyone was focused on Harry. According to Dumbledore, Harry had taken Sirius’s death very hard and had taken the news about the prophecy just as poorly. Remus tried to focus on Harry as well, because if he thought about all that Harry was going through, it gave him less time to dwell on his own emptiness.

It’s not that Remus and Sirius had been soul mates or even deeply in love; it had been nothing like the way he’d felt about Gideon, back in the old days. He and Sirius had become lovers out of convenience more than anything else, finding themselves alone together, horny and attracted. The sex had been good and Remus would miss it. But it was the loss of his oldest and dearest friend that was so utterly devastating.

Sirius was the only person to whom Remus could open up about anything. They had decades of history together. Sirius was the last vestige of his formative years and it was gut wrenching to lose that. And because of the circumstances, grieving for Sirius was like re-living his grief for Gideon, James and Lily all over again. Although it had become less debilitating over the years, he’d never gotten over their deaths.

It was now early July, and Harry was the topic of discussion at the latest Order of the Phoenix meeting. He was not faring well at the Dursleys’ and it was obvious that he would have to be moved. The concern revolved around the logistics of extracting him from Privet Drive.

During a lull in the conversation, Remus asked, “Where will Harry be staying for the rest of the summer then?”

All heads turned towards him, making Remus feel more than a little self-conscious. “He’ll be staying here, at Grimmauld Place,” said Molly quickly. “Ron, Ginny and I will be here as well to keep him company.”

“With all due respect, are you sure that’s a good idea?” All eyes were on Remus again.

“Tell us your concern, Remus,” said Dumbledore quietly.

Remus shifted his gaze amongst the Order members. Only the Weasleys and Dumbledore knew Harry as well as he did, and if he didn’t speak his mind on Harry’s behalf, he was certain that no one else would.

“If it’s true that Harry is taking Sirius’s death hard, then it might very well be torture for him to move in here. I can’t speak for Harry’s state of mind, of course, but I can testify that it’s very difficult for me to be here. I think we should be sensitive to the fact that living here may be no better for him than staying in Little Whinging.”

In his peripheral vision, Remus could see Snape rolling his eyes. Dumbledore was thinking, though, and Molly Weasley hadn’t yet disagreed. After a long pause, Dumbledore spoke.

“If not here, then where could we hide him? We know The Burrow is the first place Voldemort’s followers would look for him, and there are several reasons why I don’t wish to have him spend the rest of the summer at Hogwarts.”

“This is Lupin’s bright idea,” hissed Snape. “Let him stay at Lupin’s house.”

Remus glanced around the room and saw no objections. “Of course, he’d be welcome, provided that someone else stays there with him during the full moons.”

Dumbledore furrowed his brows. “I have been too anxious to make decisions for Harry in the past – I think it best that we allow him to decide where he will stay. And I think we can all agree,” Dumbledore’s eyes came to rest on Snape, “that Harry does not need any additional stress at the moment.”

~*~*~

Harry and Remus sat across from each other at the table in Remus’s small kitchen, both staring glumly into their tea. Harry had lasted two days at Grimmauld Place with the Weasleys before begging Remus to take him away from his painful memories of Sirius. Dumbledore had been right to allow Harry to make the choice, because although he wasn’t particularly happy, at least he wasn’t complaining about being forced here against his will and separated from his friends.

Looking up from his mug, Remus let out a little laugh when he saw Harry’s frown. “I’m sorry, Harry. I suppose I’m not really the right person to be cheering you up.”

Harry shrugged. “Doesn’t matter. Ron was driving me mad trying crack jokes in order to make me laugh. If I hadn’t gotten into so much trouble last year for underage magic, he’d probably still be in a full body bind.”

“Well, I won’t pretend that I know how you feel, because I couldn’t possibly, but you should know that I’m ready to listen anytime you want to talk.”

Remus could see the tears welling up in the corners of Harry’s eyes, and he could tell that Harry was struggling to hold them back. All of Harry’s emotions were hovering just below the surface, and Remus knew it wouldn’t take much for him to explode – either in anger or in tears. Still Harry said nothing.

“Do you remember that first Hogsmeade trip of the year when I taught at Hogwarts – you weren’t allowed to go, and you came into my office and we chatted for a while?”

Harry straightened up a bit. “Yeah. You gave me some tea and showed me your Grindylow.”

“You may not remember this, but at the time, you’d been brooding for weeks believing that I thought you were weak because the dementors made you faint.” Remus was careful to keep his expression neutral.

Harry rolled his eyes a bit. “Well, I didn’t know at the time just how foul dementors are, or that plenty of people are afraid of them.”

Remus refilled his mug from the teapot. “I hope you know that I never thought you were weak. And nothing you do or say now will ever make me think so.”

Harry offered a sad smile. “Don’t worry, Remus. I’m not going to run off to my bedroom crying like a girl.”

“No? Well, I probably will once or twice while you’re here. So I hope you don’t think any less of me for it.” Remus took another sip of tea.

Harry looked a little stunned. Remus couldn’t decide whether it was because Harry was surprised to know that Remus cried sometimes or that he was willing to admit it.

“’Course I won’t, don’t be stupid. Sirius was your friend and you miss him.”

As he said the words, Harry began to blink rapidly behind his glasses. Remus took the opportunity to discreetly turn his back to Harry while clearing the breakfast dishes from the table. When he sat down again, Harry had pulled himself back together.

“So what do you usually do all day when you aren’t babysitting a teenager?” Harry asked. The disdain in his voice as he said “babysitting” was enough to tell Remus that it was a loaded question.

“Oh, it’s a marvelous life for a man of leisure,” Remus answered lightly. “Some days I write, or I garden, and there’s the occasional job for the Order. At the moment, I’m writing to all the other werewolves I know – and there are a fair few of us – to persuade them to align with Dumbledore rather than with Voldemort.”

Remus thought Harry seemed a bit disappointed that the idea of babysitting hadn’t been denied, because he obviously wanted to pick a fight. Those emotions were still lingering, and since Harry wasn’t about to let himself cry, anger seemed to be his release of choice. Not for the first time, Remus felt himself fortunate for his year of teaching at Hogwarts, which had given him enormous insight into the teenage psyche.

“Do you feel up to some physical activity? Because there is something I’m supposed to teach you while you’re staying with me.”

Harry rolled his eyes again. “I might as well. It’s not like I’ve got anything else to do.”

"Oh, I think you might enjoy this." Remus found his briefcase sitting by the door and rummaged through it until he pulled out an official-looking parchment. He handed it to Harry to read.

Harry noticed the insignia for the Ministry of Magic right away and recognized the tidy scrawl belonging to Mafalda Hopkirk, from the Improper Use of Magic division. “What did I do this time?” he mused, his eyes speeding down the page. About halfway through, he lowered the parchment and stared up at Remus. “I don’t believe this.”

Remus smiled and nodded. “They say you’re qualified for an age-restriction waiver because you’ve proven yourself capable of advanced magic, but I think it’s because Fudge feels guilty about having you slandered in the Daily Prophet and he doesn’t want to be the one to blame if you aren’t able to escape from Voldemort.”

Remus put his hand on Harry’s shoulder to get his full attention. “But don’t be fooled, Harry. Apparation alone will not allow you to escape from him. He will already know about this provisional license from his spies in the Ministry, and he’ll be ready with anti-Apparation wards as soon as he sees you.”

“Thanks, Remus. You really know how to cheer a bloke up, don’t you?”

“I’m afraid our cheerful days are over for a while. For now, we just need to follow Mad-Eye Moody’s advice…”

“Constant vigilance,” they said in unison, dissolving into laughter. For the first time all morning, Harry’s smile actually seemed genuine.

~*~*~

Remus had taught a number of boys to Apparate over the years; his method hadn’t varied and his results were excellent. It required a certain amount of trust between teacher and student, as they started out by Apparating jointly for a short distance so that the student could experience the sensation. The student would eventually try it on his own, and knowing what it was supposed to feel like, he usually had a much easier time of it.

“Now, Harry, this is considerably easier than conjuring a Patronus, so I don’t expect you to have any trouble. But if you do find yourself splinched, don’t panic. As long as we stay in the house, I should be able to sort you out again.”

“All right. What should I do?”

Harry held a fairly rigid pose until Remus had arranged himself directly behind Harry so that they were touching in seven or eight different places – the hands, the upper thighs, the feet, chest to back and chin to head. Remus held his wand with Harry’s hand wrapped around the outside, and they practiced the incantation together. With a rapid flick, the two of them traveled about six feet to their left.

“Let’s do that again,” Harry said enthusiastically, reminding Remus of a small child. He was happy to oblige, because it was nice to see Harry smile, and Remus had to admit that joint Apparation was rather fun.

After they’d mastered the six-foot distance, they started going a bit further – into the next room. As Remus brushed up against Harry’s backside, he became aware of the scent of Harry’s shampoo and the smoothness of Harry’s hand against his. It would be so easy to pull Harry against him now, wrapping his arms across Harry’s chest. Remus bowed his back a little so that Harry wouldn’t be able to feel his growing interest in activities other than Apparation. Harry leaned back a little causing Remus to nearly splinch them.

“That’s enough for today, I think,” said Remus quickly.

Harry wrinkled his nose endearingly. “That was weird – what happened?”

“That dizziness is what you feel right before you get splinched. Fortunately, we were only going to the next room – or else we’d be in a bit of a bind.”

Harry looked worried. “What did I do wrong?”

“I’m afraid it was lack of concentration on my part. I’m sorry, Harry.”

Remus was horribly embarrassed. At his age, he ought to be perfectly capable of controlling himself around an attractive boy. Lord knows he had plenty of practice denying his inappropriate urges. He made up a quick excuse and retired to his bedroom.

~*~*~

Harry, it turned out, was a natural at Apparation. It took him only half the time it had taken Remus’s other students to learn. Since Remus had noticed that Harry was predisposed to brooding, physical activity was the key to getting along. So Harry’s next task would be to learn how to break anti-Apparation spells so that his new Apparation skill would be useful. They’d spent only about ten minutes on the theory before diving into the practical learning.

The problem with practical learning, however, was that it involved a certain amount of trial and error, and Harry found himself Apparating repeatedly into Remus’s wards, resulting in a rather painful fall each time he failed to break through them. After thirty minutes, Harry was bruised and sore, and he begged for a respite. He went to rest on the couch for a while to nurse his wounds and his ego.

When Remus hadn’t seen Harry for an hour, he went to investigate and found him turning pages in a large bound photo album that usually rested on the coffee table. Harry was engrossed in the photos and didn’t hear Remus approach until he sat down next to him.

“I hope you don’t mind me looking at these. The album was lying out here,” stammered Harry.

Remus smiled. “No, go ahead. I wouldn’t mind looking at it myself. It cheers me up sometimes to remember.”

The photographs were primarily post-Hogwarts, but Remus couldn’t have been much older than twenty in most of them. There were quite a few of Harry’s dad with Sirius, his parents’ wedding and weddings of their friends. A handsome man with strawberry blond hair seemed to figure prominently. He looked vaguely familiar to Harry, but he couldn’t place him.

Harry pointed to the young man. “Who is this? Have I met him before?”

Remus paled, not having considered that Harry might start asking questions about the pictures. “No you never met him, although you’re well acquainted with his nephew. That’s Gideon Prewitt, Molly Weasley’s younger brother.”

“He was killed fighting Death Eaters,” muttered Harry. “Moody told me that last year. I didn’t realize he was Mrs. Weasley’s brother, though. No wonder she’s so worried about her family being in the Order.”

Remus couldn’t stop the trembling of his hands, and he tried to swallow the lump in his throat, cursing himself for not having gotten over Gideon’s death even after fifteen years.

“The two of you must have been close,” whispered Harry. “I saw you kissing him in one of the pictures.”

“Yes, we were close.” Remus wanted to say more, but he wasn’t sure he could get the words out, not without reopening the wound that was still so raw after all this time. He wanted to tell Harry that Gideon had been more than a friend and lover. He had been Remus’s soul mate – his entire world. Harry wasn’t even sixteen yet; he could never understand what it was like to feel a passion so strong that it completely consumed him. Instead, Remus opted for a simple, “I loved him.”

Harry was quiet for a moment, and he continued to stare at the picture of Gideon Prewitt. After a while he said, uncertainly, “I hope someday I’ll find someone to love like that.”

“You will,” said Remus. “We’ve just got to keep you alive long enough for you to find them.”

“I hate Voldemort,” spat Harry.

Remus snorted. “He has rather managed to make a shambles of our lives, hasn’t he?” He stood up, sparing one last look at the picture of Gideon stretched out on a rock next to a turbulent seashore. “What do you say to some lunch and then another shot at the anti-Apparation wards?”

“Yeah, all right. But can I ask you one more thing?”

“Yes, of course.”

Harry eyed Remus nervously. “Were you and Sirius together?”

Remus heaved a great sigh. This was a question he had prepared for – he hadn’t thought he’d be able to hide his involvement with Sirius from Harry, nor was he sure he wanted to.

“Yes, we were. But it was very complicated. Sirius Black was the best friend I ever had. Whatever else happened between us, we shared a bond that made us closer than brothers. We understood each other.”

All the blood had drained from Harry’s face. “I’m sorry, Remus,” he mumbled, closing his eyes to hold back the flood of tears that had welled up in his eyes. “I’m sorry I got him killed and took him away from you.”

Remus dropped back onto the couch next to Harry and quickly pulled him into an embrace, despite Harry’s bristling at his touch. Remus said quietly, “You are not to blame for Sirius’s rash actions, just as he was not to blame for yours. Sirius Black took outlandish risks his whole life, and to be perfectly honest, we were all shocked that he lasted as long as he did.”

Remus could feel the dampness of Harry’s teary cheek against the side of his neck and hear the thick, deep emotion in Harry’s voice as he said, “But I messed up. He gave me a mirror, to be able to talk to him, but I forgot I had it. If only I’d—”

“Regrets can’t help us now, Harry. Sirius chose to take that last risk, and the odds got the better of him. We’re still here, and as much as we want things to be different, we have no choice but to carry on.”

“I can’t,” insisted Harry. “I think about him fifty times a day – there’s no way I’m going to be able to forget about him.”

Remus pulled away just enough so that he could look Harry in the eye. “No, I’m not suggesting you forget about him, at all. I’m just saying we should pay tribute to Sirius by making sure that you defeat Voldemort.” Lupin grinned. “Sirius hated being on the losing side.”

There were streaks on either side of Harry’s face where a few tears that he’d been trying so desperately to hold back had somehow leaked out. Remus’s hunch had been right – Harry was blaming himself for everything that had happened. Harry was so much like James sometimes – stoic and proud, never wanting to appear weak. But James never faced this much pressure; he never had the fate of the wizarding world resting squarely upon his shoulders. Remus was worried that Harry’s pent up emotion was soon going to get the better of him. Remus wasn’t certain that he wanted to be around if it happened.

~*~*~

“Okay, practice one more time.”

Harry mimed fainting from exhaustion, but Remus was having none of it. As Harry Disapparated again, Remus timed him – Harry was getting quicker at multiple Apparation jumps. They’d set out a series of six designated Apparation spots that Harry was to jump to in rapid succession. The idea was to practice these jumps so much that Harry could do it without thinking. If Voldemort or his Death Eaters appeared, Harry could concentrate on breaking the wards and getting to a hiding place without giving them a chance to trace his movements. The final jump was to the front door to number twelve Grimmauld Place where Harry would be safe due to the Fidelius charm.

Harry arrived in Remus’s yard with a loud crack. “Four minutes, thirty-five seconds. I’d really like to see you do it in under three minutes, but it’s a big improvement from yesterday. Nice work, Harry.”

Remus walked over to where Harry, who was breathing heavily, had collapsed on the ground. Apparation didn’t normally cause one to lose one’s breath, but stress did, so Remus thought it best to let him relax for a while. He sat down next to Harry on the grass and watched the young man before him with interest.

Harry propped himself on one elbow and glanced up at him, squinting in the sunshine. “Remus, why are we doing this?”

“Doing what?”

“Why are you teaching me to get away from Voldemort? I’m going to have to fight him eventually – shouldn’t I just face the music and get it over with?”

Remus stared at him intently. “You don’t know how to kill him yet, and neither does Dumbledore. Avada Kedavra doesn’t work on him; if it did, the spell that bounced off of you and back onto him would have killed him. He’s done something to alter his magic so that killing spells won’t work.”

Harry dramatically flopped back onto the ground. “I hope you’re all working on a ‘Plan B’. I’m doomed.”

Remus chuckled. “It’s possible, but nobody is working on a ‘Plan B’ yet. You’ve got an overwhelming job to do and precious few skills mastered to help you do it. I can teach you everything I know, but it’s up to you to learn it.”

“If you don’t have a ‘Plan B’, I really don’t have much choice, do I? All right, Professor Lupin, teach me everything you know.”

Harry wore a strange expression as he said this, and Remus had that same uncomfortable feeling he frequently got when the Weasley twins were trying to pull something over on him.

They sat in companionable silence for a while, enjoying the sunshine and soft breeze that blew through the garden. Remus was reluctant to insist they carry on with Harry’s lessons because Harry appeared to be deep in thought. He was surprised when Harry spoke.

“Do you think about him much?”

Remus knew right away that Harry was referring to Sirius. “Of course, I do. I try not to dwell on him, but there are so many things that remind me of him. It’s harder when I’m alone.” He wondered briefly if he should be confiding in Harry like this, but it wasn’t going to help Harry to trust him if he thought Remus was withholding information. And perhaps if he was open with Harry, then Harry would confide in him too.

“I’ve been dreaming about him since I’ve been here,” said Harry, his expression passive.

“Is that a good thing or not?”

Harry sat up, hugging his knees loosely. He looked at Remus and shrugged. “All right, I guess. He mostly shows up as Padfoot, only he talks to me – tells me not to give up the fight, to take up where he left off and stuff.”

For a fleeting moment, Remus was terribly jealous; if only his memories of Sirius were that benign. Because when he closed his eyes at night, he remembered the glint in Sirius’s eyes as he was taking the piss out of someone, or the way he’d sulk when he didn’t get his way, or the little mewling sound he always made just before he came. But there was plenty of time for those thoughts later. At last, Harry wanted to talk, and Remus needed to be a good listener.

“That’s exactly what he would have told you in person, if he was here. He knew about the prophecy, Harry, and he always intended it to be him that taught you these things I’m showing you. He never gave up, and neither should you.”

Remus watched Harry carefully, noticing a subtle change in his face, his countenance now showing something closer to resolve than defeat. With the grace of a cat, Harry suddenly stood up. “Time me!” he called, just before he Disapparated.

As he stared at his pocket watch, Remus tried to figure out what might have transpired in Harry’s brain to make him determined to succeed in this drill. His guilt over Sirius’s death was finally being put to a constructive purpose, though, so Remus wasn’t about to complain. When Harry appeared, Remus noted the time.

“Three minutes and seventeen seconds.” He looked up to see Harry’s smiling face. “Good Lord, Harry, that’s more than a minute off your previous best time.”

“Maybe, but I still have a long way to go to do it in under three minutes.” Harry tugged on Remus’s arm, pulling him toward the house. “I’ll try again tomorrow. If I’m going to learn everything you know about Defense Against the Dark Arts, shouldn’t we be starting on something new?”

Remus was astounded, but showed nothing. “Yes, I suppose so,” he answered. This was the Harry that he’d taught to do a Patronus charm: a determined and driven young man who would not accept defeat. Remus’s heart was light as he concocted an impromptu lesson plan.

~*~*~

Helpless once again, Remus watched with horror as Sirius fell backwards through the veil. As Sirius’s boots disappeared behind the curtain, Remus woke himself up with a loud scream.

Sitting upright in the dark, Remus’s heart was pounding and he was drenched in sweat. He tried to remember the rest of the dream; it had started out pleasant enough, but had deteriorated into a nightmare rapidly as he replayed that horrible night in his mind again. He flinched as he felt a hand on his shoulder, and then the mattress sank under the weight of an additional body.

“Remus, are you all right? I heard a scream.”

He could hear the concern in Harry’s voice, and without realizing it, he leaned into the light caress moving across his bare shoulder.

Remus swallowed and tried to speak. “Sorry I woke you. Just a nightmare.”

Harry’s arm slid around Remus’s back. “It was about Sirius, wasn’t it?” Remus turned to look at him in surprise. “You shouted out his name,” Harry said softly.

Remus had calmed down now, and he was beginning to feel very stupid to have caused Harry to come running to his aid. He tried to ignore how nice Harry’s arm felt around him and Harry’s bare chest brushing against his arm.

“Move over. I’ll stay with you for a while.” Harry lifted the covers and slid into the bed before Remus had a chance to protest.

Remus scrambled to the far side of the bed, keenly aware that both he and Harry were wearing only boxers due to the warm summer night. “Harry, I don’t think—”

“You told me earlier that it was harder for you when you were alone. So now you’re not alone.”

Remus could only see the outline of Harry’s face in the darkness. He had no idea what to do about the situation. There was no way in hell that it was appropriate for Harry to be spending the night in his bed. On the other hand, Harry seemed determined to stay, and Remus didn’t want to offend him by rejecting his offer.

“Harry, it means a lot to me that you want to help me, but it’s generally not a good idea for a grown man to share a bed with a fifteen-year-old boy.” Especially when said man fantasizes about you on a regular basis.

Harry laughed. “Who’s ever going to know unless you tell them? Anyway, I’m going to be sixteen in a few days.”

Great, thought Remus, in a few days I won’t get hauled off to jail for this. The full moon was approaching, and Remus’s sensitivity to smell was already heightened. His body was responding to the scent of Harry’s raging hormones in a most predictable fashion, which did nothing to help his resolve to stay on the moral high ground.

“I just dreamt about him too. Padfoot told me to take care of you.” Harry reached over to brush Remus’s arm in a comforting sort of way.

His fate now sealed by that declaration, Remus cursed Sirius under his breath before agreeing that Harry could stay. He focused on boring and asexual thoughts, but when he fell asleep, his dream about Harry was neither.

~*~*~

Bill Weasley came to stay while Remus left to spend the full moon elsewhere. Harry had always liked Bill very much, and it was a nice distraction to hear stories about Ron and the rest of his family. It also became clear to Harry that he was not the only one concerned about Remus.

“So how do you think he’s doing?” asked Bill, as he poured himself a cup of tea when he arrived.

Harry shrugged. “It’s hard to say. I’m sure he doesn’t tell me things because he doesn’t want me to feel bad. But he’s getting on all right, I suppose.”

“Harry, you know that he and Sirius were… really close, don’t you?”

Harry looked Bill in the eye. “Yeah, Remus and Sirius were a couple.”

Bill raised an eyebrow in surprise. “Oh, he told you then. And are you okay with it?”

Harry furrowed his brow – he wasn’t exactly sure what Bill was asking. “It’s a little too late to do anything about it even if I’m not.”

“No, obviously you can’t. What I meant was are you okay being here alone with Remus – you aren’t freaked out or anything?” Bill asked hesitantly.

Harry cocked his head. “What, you mean because he’s gay?” Bill nodded. “No, of course not. What did you think we were over here doing? Having mad passionate sex?” Harry laughed as he said this, but he felt a twinge of guilt knowing that the idea was more than a little appealing.

Bill laughed too. “I have to admit, I wasn’t really worried about that. It’s just that I’ve heard some Muggles can be very biased against homosexuals, and I didn’t know if you felt like that. Sorry.”

“Actually, we’re getting on fine. Remus has been putting me through my paces, trying to teach me as much Defense Against the Dark Arts as I can stand.” Harry stood up to face Bill. “Here – throw up an anti-Apparation ward, and let me see if I can break through it.”

Bill drew his wand and cast a spell, which Harry promptly broke through before taking his customary six jumps. When he returned to Remus’s kitchen, he looked at the clock again: three minutes, four seconds.

As much as he enjoyed Bill’s company, Harry found that he missed Remus when he went to sleep that night a little more than he should have. He dreamed again, but this time Sirius was a person, and he kept telling Harry to be patient. Then in the dream, Remus showed up as a werewolf, and Sirius transformed before they went running of into the fog together.

He tried to remember the dream the next morning, but it was lost in the commotion that was happening outside of Harry’s bedroom. He recognized Remus’s voice in the hallway and smiled. It was his birthday.

~*~*~

Harry’s birthday party was hardly a grand affair, but Ron and Hermione were there, along with a random assortment of Weasleys and other Order members. Seeing Ron and Hermione again made Harry seem wistful, but they appeared to have a pleasant evening. Remus overheard Harry reassuring his friends that they would all be together again in a month’s time and that they were safer being away from him during the summer.

After the last guests left, Harry gathered up the empty butterbeer bottles and brought them into the kitchen. Remus was putting food away, still feeling out of sorts from his transformation. He jumped when Harry placed a hand on his shoulder.

“Sorry, Remus, didn’t mean to startle you. I’ll finish cleaning up here.”

Remus shook his head. “No, it’s your birthday. I’ll do it. Or maybe I’ll leave it until the morning.” He flashed a smile at Harry and was surprised to get something closer to a leer in response. Oh God. He wasn’t sure he had the strength to fight off his urges if Harry was going to persist in looking at him like that.

“Yeah, leave it until tomorrow.” Harry slipped his arm through Remus’s and led him out of the kitchen. “Thanks for the party, Remus. I don’t think I’ve ever had a proper birthday party before. And that book you gave me is fantastic. I think it will really help.”

Remus allowed himself to be pulled to his bedroom, if for no other reason than he didn’t have enough energy to fight it. Besides, Harry’s cheerful mood was intoxicating. When Harry thanked him for his gift, Remus smiled and said, “I want an essay – a foot and a half – on Munchen’s Theory of Vampire Longevity and how it might apply to Voldemort.” He winked, just to make certain that Harry knew he was kidding. He said good night when he reached his bedroom door. Strangely, Harry did not respond.

Remus’s bed felt glorious after he’d spent the previous night curled up on a cold stone floor in wolf form. He shifted until he found a comfortable position and sighed. The only thing that would make his bed feel better was a nice warm body to snuggle. Remus felt his chest tighten as he tried not to think of Sirius.

There was a quiet knock on the door, and then it opened a crack. “Remus? Can I come in?”

Remus sat up. “Yes, of course. What’s wrong, Harry?”

Harry sat down on the bed very close to Remus. “I was just about to get in bed when I realized that I’ve just turned sweet sixteen and I’ve never been kissed. Well, I suppose that’s not technically true, but I’ve never been kissed when it was my idea.”

Remus cocked his head as he tried to understand why it was so urgent for Harry to talk about this now. “You’ll have plenty of time to change that. I wouldn’t worry about it.”

“I’m not exactly worried. I just thought I might be able to change it tonight.” Harry bit his lip, waiting for Remus’s response.

“You can’t possibly mean—”

“Come on, you wouldn’t turn a bloke down on his birthday, would you? Especially not after you promised to teach me everything you know.” In the semi-darkness, Remus could see the outline of Harry’s smirk.

Remus couldn’t help but smile as he shook his head. “I was referring to everything I know about defending against the Dark Arts.”

Harry reached over to caress Remus’s cheek. “I know you’re interested. Ever since I got here, you’ve been checking me out when you think I’m not looking.”

Remus’s pulse began to race as he thought about teaching Harry some things of a more personal nature. “I won’t deny I’m interested, but Harry, I’m twenty years older than you. You don’t want me.” A little too late, Remus realized that he’d violated the first law of dealing with a teenager: never tell him what he does and doesn’t want.

Harry pushed Remus back onto his pillows and kissed him boldly on the lips. “I’m pretty sure that I do.” He kissed Remus again, and Remus reluctantly kissed him back. He knew right away that he was doomed – there was no way he was going to muster the strength of character he needed to pull away from Harry.

“So are you going to send me away or move over and let me in?”

Sighing, Remus made room for Harry in the bed, all the while berating himself because he knew it was wrong and that, as the adult, he needed to put a stop to it. He just couldn’t, though. He was so lonely, and he wanted.

Harry scrambled into the bed with the enthusiasm of a puppy. He wedged himself up against Remus, slipping an arm across Remus’s bare chest and curling his hand round to Remus’s back.

Had Remus been tired? Apparently not, because he was wide awake now. Every nerve ending was firing, telling him to move, to claim, to engulf this wonderful boy who had so willingly crawled into his bed. Remus struggled to control himself, keeping the wolf at bay, but only just.

“Harry,” he panted, “we both know this is wrong, but so help me God, I want you.”

“No, it’s not wrong. It’s what I want, too. Show me, Remus. Teach me what to do.”

Since he was already destined to rot in hell for this, Remus gave in to his lust. However enthusiastic Harry might be, he was still an innocent, so Remus quickly decided to assuage his guilt by making sure that Harry’s experience was positive. It was still his birthday, after all.

Rolling Harry onto his back, Remus leaned over him, kissing him passionately on the lips, sucking his tongue and easing his own tongue inside Harry’s mouth. Harry might be inexperienced, but kissing him was wildly exciting.

After several minutes, Remus pulled away, breathless. “There. Now that you’ve been thoroughly snogged, I think it’s safe to say that your problem has been solved.” What was left of Remus’s conscience insisted on giving Harry a chance to back out, even though the wolf inside would not be pleased if he took it.

Harry held onto Remus a little tighter, as if he was worried that Remus might throw him out. “Yeah,” he purred, “it’s definitely my favorite birthday present so far. But you see, now I have a different problem.” Harry bucked his hips so that Remus’s thigh was made keenly aware of Harry’s latest problem.

Remus’s inner wolf was cheering. He bent down to suck on the hollow of Harry’s neck, pressing into Harry’s hardness and warring with his conscience again. Harry might believe he knew what he wanted, but Remus wasn’t entirely sure that he understood what he was asking for.

He looked into the dark outline of Harry’s eyes. “What do you want, Harry? What are you hoping I’ll teach you?”

Harry furrowed his brow before carefully answering, “I want us to do what you and Sirius used to do…you know, have sex.”

Remus bit back a laugh, thinking that Harry might misinterpret it and be offended. There was no way he was going to teach Harry some of the things that he and Sirius used to do – even his inner wolf wouldn’t fight him on that.

“Do you want to ‘top’ or ‘bottom’?”

“Er—”

Dear God, a complete innocent then. Remus took a deep breath. “Top means you’d be inside me and bottom means I’d be inside you.”

Harry’s eyes widened slightly as the logistics of the previously abstract concept of sex were suddenly being made clear to him. “Um, which is better?”

Remus chuckled. “It’s very much a matter of preference. The experiences are quite different, and you won’t really know which you like better until you’ve tried it both ways a few times.”

“Oh. Why don’t you pick the one you like the best and I’ll do the other one?” There was a slight quaver in Harry’s voice, which was the only indication up until now that he was nervous.

Remus kissed him again while he slid his hand down to rub against Harry’s insistent cock. “I’ll top then.” Remus rose to his knees and pulled off his boxers. He took a tube of lubricant out of his drawer, while Harry removed his underwear, too. Before he turned back to Harry, Remus conjured a dim light. “I want to be able to see you and show you what I’m doing.” His eyes drifted down the length of Harry’s body. “So beautiful,” he said with a smile.

With the patience of a former schoolteacher, Remus explained to Harry what to do to prepare someone, and then Remus went on to demonstrate. Once Harry had worked through the burn of Remus’s intruding finger, Remus gave him a lesson on the prostate gland and what it can do for one’s sex life. Harry was so responsive that Remus had turned him into a quivering mess even before entering him. By the time Remus slowly pushed his way inside, they were both teetering on the edge of orgasm.

“How do you feel?” choked Remus, who was focusing all his efforts on not coming.

“Hurts,” gasped Harry.

Remus leant in for a kiss. “Take deeper breaths and relax as much as you can. As soon as you think you’re used to the feeling, tell me and I’ll start to move.” Remus was hoping Harry would get used to it fast, because as tight as Harry was, Remus wasn’t going to last very long at all. He wrapped his hand around Harry’s prick, trying to give him a pleasurable distraction from the pain.

“Okay, Remus.”

With as much restraint as he could muster, Remus began to rock back and forth, angling his hips so that he could find Harry’s prostate. When he brushed against it, Harry cried out.

“More,” Harry pleaded. “Go faster.”

Harry’s face was scrunched up in the pleasure/pain of Remus’s repeated thrusts. Sweat was pouring off Remus’s face from the exertion of holding off his climax. God, thought Remus, how could Harry possibly last this long his first time? He pumped Harry’s cock more vigorously, and soon Harry was coming with a loud moan that echoed off the walls.

With Harry clenching all around his cock, Remus shattered, shooting wave after never-ending wave. The two of them rocked together slowly, riding out their aftershocks and enjoying the feeling of skin against skin.

Afterwards, they snuggled together. Remus absently ran his fingers through Harry’s hair, stopping every so often to press a kiss against it. He tried not to think about the ramifications of what they’d just done, just as he avoided thinking about when they could do it again. He had no answer to these questions, but for the first time since Sirius’s death, he didn’t feel the empty ache that had plagued him.

“In my dreams, when he talks to me,” said Harry out of the blue, “he tells me to take care of you. He says that if I make you happy, it’ll make me happy too.”

Harry’s words hit Remus like a blow to the gut. So that’s why he was doing this? To make me happy? He glanced up into Harry’s eyes, which were staring at him hopefully. No, wait. If he thinks I’m happy, it will make him happy. Remus mustered a smile.

“I’m not sure that I’d say I’m happy,” Remus said cautiously, “but the loneliness I’ve been feeling has gone away, and that’s a considerable improvement.”

Harry’s mouth turned up at the corners. “Well, that will give us something to work up to, won’t it? And we’ll get there soon enough: just look at how much I’ve improved my Apparation jumps with practice.”

“If you get that series of jumps down to less than three minutes, I’ll let you top tomorrow,” smirked Remus. He reached for his wand and doused the lights. The two of them were asleep within minutes.

~*~*~

“Two minutes and forty-eight seconds,” said Remus with a wink. “Are you sure you didn’t cheat and skip one?”

“No!” cried Harry indignantly. “But thanks for giving me the idea.

Remus gazed at his young lover with something close to awe. As he thought back on the year he’d taught Harry at Hogwarts, Remus realized that Harry had the ability to do anything he wanted to as long as he had the right motivation. Remus had one month to teach Harry everything he knew about Defense Against the Dark Arts, and he’d never had a more motivated student. Once Dumbledore figured out the proper killing curse, Voldemort wouldn’t stand a chance.


finis

~*~*~

Weather Channel, written by Sheryl Crow. Warner-Tamerlane Publishing Corp. Old Crow Music (BMI) All rights on behalf of Old Crow Music administered by Warner-Tamerlane Publishing Corp. (BMI) All Rights Reserved.