The Darker End of Night

First Quarter pt.2

Disclaimer: See previous chapters.

A/N: Thank you soo much to reviewing peoples. I really appreciate it. Well, here we are, the next chapter. To be honest, I've been more preoccupied with getting this chapter up than getting it perfect. I'll upload a better version some time soon. Now, though, on with the ficage…

"Remus, are you okay?" Sylvia stared at him from across the table as though he had a hideous, disfiguring plague. "You look like death."

"Thank you." He reached blearily for the pumpkin juice, eyes squinting with exhaustion.

"The whole tower heard you arguing with Sirius last night." Lupin froze. "You don't need to be embarrassed. Everyone fights." Merlin, simpering acceptance was not what he wanted this morning, nor any other morning but particularly not… "What was it about anyway?" Oh Hell.

He swallowed thickly and stared at the empty plate in front of him. "Nothing. Nothing much." Sylvia nodded sympathetically and left him to gaze into the infinite depths of his juice.

Harry was watching still, growing anxious as the memory drew on. It had better finished before Lupin and Tonks returned or there would be trouble.

As Lupin got up from his seat, food untouched on his plate, a figure detached itself from the other side of the hall and strode quickly after him. It caught up in the entrance hall.

"I want a word with you, Lupin." The Gryffindor stopped dead.

"Fuck off, Malfoy." The warning cough corrected him; he pivoted on his heels and gave a sweetly false smile. "Oh, I'm terribly sorry, your highness. Fuck off, Lucius." By some miraculous feat, he even persuaded 'Lucius' to rhyme with 'scum of the Earth'. The Slytherin's face didn't so much soften as congeal into an expression of mocking sympathy.

"Poor Lupin. You must have forgotten what we spoke of last night. This is how it works, Lupin." The voice sharpened into whetted flint. "I know something about you which you don't want anybody to know. I don't tell anyone and you have to do whatever I tell you to do. Understand, Lupin?"

Damn it, he could see no advantage in arguing. With a sigh of resignation, Lupin struggled to keep his mouth shut on the obscenities that sprang reflexively to mind; his shoulders sagged in defeat. "Well? What do you want… Lucius?" His submission drew a satisfied smile.

"Let's be frank, Lupin. Classes start up again in three days." Did they really? Time had flown… "Let's just say that I could use a little more of a rest than that."

I bet you do, Lupin wanted to remark, if you're up all night blackmailing passers-by.

"Another day or two's grace would be most welcome, know what I mean, Lupin?"

Lupin laughed, unsmiling. "You're out of luck, Lucius. Even I can't slow down time." He turned to walk away from this pointless exchange, but…

"I don't take kindly to having backs turned to me, Lupin." Reluctantly, Lupin swung back, seeing the futility of resistance.

"Then what?" Curse that smugly triumphant smile.

"I might not feel inclined to begin working at full tilt again right away. But, of course, it wouldn't be proper for me to do badly. What ever would my father think?" Lucius paced casually across the hall in front of the Gryffindor, as though alone, speaking only to himself. "Now, if only I had a willing slave to make sure my homework stayed up to date." Willing slave? Lupin only just managed to check his protest. Just as well. Lucius turned slowly back to face him. "Oh wait, I do."

He had seen it coming; how could he not? But… "You're joking."

"Oh, if only I were, dear Lupin. Of course, I'm not an unreasonable taskmaster. I will only expect you to do the work for those classes we have in common."

"Gracious of you." Lupin muttered under his breath; Malfoy caught it.

"What was that, Lupin?" His eyes locked suspiciously on the boy.

Intuition telling him, frantically, that that warning glare meant him no good, Lupin murmured apologetically. "Nothing."

"Good. Now, I must return to my companions, or else they will worry." That Lupin found highly unlikely. "I'll see you in class, Lupin."

There came a violent flicker, as though someone had flipped an old creaking switch on the world. Harry struggled to keep his balance as his surroundings stuttered into blackness. Light returned, and he was standing, somewhat shakily, in the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom; looking around there was Lupin, Sirius, James – the presence of these two still gave Harry's unguarded psyche a painful jar – Peter… and Lucius. There were other too, of course, and Harry probably knew the spawn of some of them; none were familiar. Nor was the teacher standing at the front of the class. His voice was a drone to rival even Professor Binns'; it was no wonder James and Sirius were busily bewitching a wooden horse to trot around between them, tiny hooves never quite touching the wood of the desk – well, Lupin had always told him they were brilliant. It looked like he had been right. Harry was so caught up in watching them that he almost missed what must be the point in his being there in the first place.

"So, you will all choose a species on which to write a report, and I want no less than four feet on this. You may include diagrams in that. Hand it in next Friday." He looked towards the back of the room where Lucius had raised his hand. "Yes, Mister Malfoy?"

With an ingratiating smile, the boy put down his hand and began, "Sir, I was wondering if I might attempt a piece of work on all ten species." It seemed that only Harry saw the way Lupin blanched, his posture tensing minutely. "I simply find dragons so fascinating, sir." His cruelly twinkling eyes flickered to Lupin's face; stony, grave.

"What's Malfoy up to?" Sirius asked quietly, eyeing the boy suspiciously. James nodded in agreed curiosity.

"I know he's always thrived on being every teacher's pet, but I've never known him do any work for it. I thought he just lived of Daddy's connections." Lupin said nothing. Luckily for him, the Professor didn't seem to be impressed by Lucius' eager enquiry.

"No, Malfoy, that seems a little excessive to me. You may choose three species, since you're so enthusiastic, but I'm not marking any more than that. I've quite enough to do as it is, thank you very much." Lucius looked distinctly disappointed. "You can all go now. I know the bell hasn't quite gone yet but, unless anyone else wants to try their hand at sucking up, I would like to eat my sandwiches in peace. Go, be gone, get out of my sight." He shooed them all away, though no one wasted any time in leaving, all relishing the extra ten minutes of freedom before the rest of the school was released from lessons. It seemed, in spite of his voice - which could have bored a flobberworm to death – Rupole was one of the school's best liked teachers of the time; Harry gleaned as much from the excited chatter of departing students.

"So, to the dining room?" Peter suggested eagerly, squinty little eyes sparkling hungrily. Sirius agreed heartily and they turned back for the others' opinions. James shrugged helplessly.

"Can't. Quidditch practice. What kind of captain would I be if I let the rest of my team get there ahead of me? And I've still got to get the Abraxan from the tower." Slinging his rucksack over his shoulder, he jogged away, up the stairs towards Gryffindor tower with a backwards wave to the others behind him.

"Just the three of us, then." Peter sighed. At that moment, Lucius walked past them, oh so casually catching Lupin's eye as he turned the corner. Lupin felt his throat tighten for a second before the sharp grey eyes were gone. A voice yanked him back to the land of the living.

"Moony? Earth calling Moony. Can you hear me Major Tom?" The boy, who - in order to irritate his fiercely pureblood parents – had defiantly developed a penchant for David Bowie and an array of other muggle musicians, was staring at him, his expression apparently unable to make a firm decision between amusement and concern.

"Hmm?" Lupin blinked like someone shaken abruptly awake.

"I said, we should get going or we'll get left with the rickety, rotting benches again and will have wasted our precious gift of," He glanced down at his watch and made a face. "Six minutes." The thought of food made Lupin's stomach churn, rickety benches or no. The thought of sitting through lunch with Sirius made his stomach constrict; he shook his head, knocking waves of blonde fringe into his face, trying to clear the memory of that vicious gaze.

"You two go. I… I want to get a start on this dragon thing for Rupole." Peter looked ready enough to run off without him, but Sirius hesitated. He looked about to question him, ask if this was about their fight – still unmentioned and unresolved, after nearly a week now – but courage, it seemed, failed him.

"The ever-studious Moony." He commented wistfully. "Don't starve yourself." With that, and a hasty wave from Peter, they disappeared down the corridor. Lupin was easily forgotten, it seemed; they were already arguing over Quidditch teams when they turned the corner. The boy watched his friends depart, for a moment unable to move from his place. He would have to go to the library, he supposed. The others didn't need to know he was doing three extra reports. They probably wouldn't even ask.

Harry, watching Lupin standing as though shell-shocked, felt time flicker again; it was as if history was rattling over a patch of static. When time settled around him again, it was late. The library clock now dead in front of him read almost midnight. Lupin was still pouring in earnest over a great heap of dusty leather-bound books. His hair bore the unsightly signs of anxiously tugging fingers and his hands were ink-stained. By the looks of it, though, he wasn't doing too badly. Three of four –projects were already piled neatly in front of him.

"Burning the midnight oil, Lupin. Good. Good. Glad to see you taking such an enthusiastic approach." Harry almost leapt into the air in surprise at the voice's piercing intrusion. He hadn't seen Malfoy concealed where he was between the shelves. Nor, it seemed, had Lupin. He cursed softly as his hand jerked, knocking dark blue ink across his last few lines. Seeing this, Malfoy tsked, shaking his head. "Oh dear, Lupin, what a shame."

Lupin inhaled sharply, in the middle of dabbing in vain at the puddle of ink. "What are you doing here, Ma-… Lucius? Stuck doing some work for yourself? Poor dear."

Malfoy laughed that chilling laugh of his as he prowled closer through the library's deep bars of shadow. "I've not become that desperate yet, thank you Lupin. Just looking after my interests." Without looking around, Lupin gave a short, humourless laugh and raked the little heap of rolls towards the boy.

"There." Lucius picked up the top one and ran an appraising eye over it.

"Very good, Lupin. I am pleased." The eye flickered back to Lupin, still bent industriously over his own homework. His expression deepened into a frown. "Poor Remus. I can't be working you too hard already, can I? Why, I'd never have expected a few little essays to take their toll so quickly." He was ignored, though Harry was itching to wipe the putrid false apology off the bastard's face. "Maybe I can do something to ease the load?"

Remus gave a dischanted snort and reached out again to nudge the scrolls even nearer the edge of the desk. "You want to help? You can take your damn dragon studies and leave me alone." He didn't turn as he said any of this; it looked, to Harry, as though he were trying to convince himself that Lucius was no longer there. As Malfoy's hand dropped into his peripheral vision to retrieve the parchment, Harry was sure he flinched minutely, just for a second. The projects were tucked away in Lucius' robe but he made no move to depart; he stayed, unperturbed, by Lupin's shoulder.

"Oh, now, now Remus. There's no call to be like that. I'd like to help you." Remus let out a startled yelp as a pair of hands fell upon his shoulders. He stiffened sorely as sharp fingers began to knead his gritted muscles. But the surprise didn't take long to thaw. Remus jerked to his feet, forcing the probing hands away.

"What the Hell do you think you're doing Malfoy?" Harry could see his face, now, over Malfoy's shoulder. His eyes were wide and frightened, though he was trying furiously to compose himself.

"Just thought I could help you relax a little, Lupin." Lucius drawled. "Sorry to have startled you."

Remus muttered something that might have been, "Like Hell, you're sorry…"

Whatever it was, Lucius let it be, in favour of: "But really, how many times must I request it of you, Remus?" He took a step closer. Remus tried to widen the gap again, but found the desk in his way. Oh Merlin… "Is it so hard just to call me Lucius? Isn't it really rather a nice name, once you say it a few times?" Another step, and the Slytherin raised a hand to touch Remus' cheek; Remus made a noise of protest and recoiled, but had nowhere to move. The hand slipped over his cheek and made its slick, caressing way into the dusky blonde hair. "Don't you like my name, Remus?" Before Remus could react the fingers tightened, yanking his head backwards. Whimpering in pain, he hit out at Lucius' chest, but that only made it worse. He could feel warm breath on his throat and his skin crawled. OhGodohGodohGodoh… "Isn't it a nice name, Remus?"

"Beautiful," the Gryffindor wrenched out through fast-gritted teeth, eyes screwed up with pain and anger. Harry couldn't stand to watch this… but that was all he could do… he couldn't help him!

"Mm, that's what I thought, Remus." Lucius smiled, lips curling cruelly. He started to run a long, bony finger up from Remus' collar to his chin, but it found itself knocked aside. Far from giving up though, Lucius caught the protesting hand and pressed a kiss to its palm, in spite of the near-slap his troubles earned. "Don't be like that, Remus. After all, you wouldn't want me to do anything you'd regret, would you?" He pressed a swift kiss to the bared throat, before letting the Gryffindor drop limply and heading for the door. "And thank you for the essays, Remus," he called back, without looking and him. Lupin couldn't watch him leave, just clung to the table edge trembling. What had he done?

Harry's spitting rage was suddenly broken with a yell of surprise. The world flashed and he was lying on his back on the carpet in Grimauld Place. And Lupin was standing over him, wand drawn. Tonks stood behind him, looking as frightened as Harry had ever seen her. "What did you think you were doing?" The man hissed, barely keeping his wand arm from shaking. "What the Hell did you think you were doing?"

A/N: And that's it for now, folks. I'm sorry for the shameful way I semi-abandoned this fic. Sooo many other projects happening. But I'm coming back to it, by degrees. Please don't give up on me!

Reviews, as always, are most definitely welcome. Thank you for reading, my loves. TTFN.