T/N: Another fic that I decided to translate. I once again deeply thank the original author "Sorn The Lucifer's Angel" for giving me permission to translate and post her story. I hope I gave it justice in English.
A/N: While I was reading "Chasse à courre" by GredW, an idea came to mind...What if Sirius wasn't as sincere as he said? What if he was just lying in order to achieve his ends? What if, deep down, this seduction, this chase, was only a game?
You might notice certain similarities with the Sirius in my fanfic Vampire Heart. In some ways, they indeed have the same behaviour and character, and the essence of the story is a bit similar.
I'd like to warn you, this one-shot has some angst-y tendencies and is rather anti-romantic. It isn't a nice little fluffy story. This is plunging into the twists and turns of a devious mind corrupted by lust and to whom friendship no longer has any worth. I'd also like to point out that my writing was influenced by the one-shot "To Serve a Purpose" by DarkTwin7, in case you find some similarities between our two fics.
Disclaimer: All characters, places, etc. belong to J.K. Rowling, only the idea of this fanfic belongs to me.
It's Only a Game
It's always just been a game, you know.
At first, I wanted you because you resisted me. You were amusing, a friend and a boy. I had never tried boys. You were a nice toy. You were attractive, of course, otherwise I would never have even thought about trying to have you. You were calm, reserved, shy and secretive. I wanted to break through your defences, to have the one thing from you that I knew was untouched.
I wanted you and nothing could have stopped me.
You knew me well, oh so well! You knew what a player I was, how I didn't know love. Yes, I was loyal in friendship - I would have done anything for my friends - but never in love. I didn't know love. It was all just rubbish, fairy tales for little girls, nonsense. In order to win you over I had to erase this image of Don Juan that stuck to me. This was difficult.
I had to renounce my conquests and devote myself exclusively to you. You understood my sudden interest in you, didn't you? You knew me like no other - even better than James - and you recognised in my manoeuvres and little schemes the unfailing sign of "I want you".
A chase, a prey, oh what a nice prey, that's what you were. But you constantly resisted me and pushed me away, and I saw the fear in your eyes. You knew it was probably just a game for me.
But you also knew that the more you resisted me, the more I would persevere and the more I would want you.
I wanted you so much that I almost became crazy. The conquest took enormous proportions, I had never fought so much to win someone over.
You kept a careful distance between us, always avoided finding yourself alone with me, and oh, how I understood you! My intentions were not praise-worthy, not in the least, and you were as aware of it as I was. Yes, I am a bastard and I proclaim it. What else could I have been, raised among cruel and heartless people, united by a simple economic and social advantage? I was a Black, the worst and most dangerous of all breeds.
I knew I was handsome, unbelievably handsome, and I was sure of myself. What a dangerous combination with a mind as Machiavellian as mine!
But I wanted you, and that, that would never stop until I had you.
I hounded you fervently, more enthusiastic each time. Every failure only reinforced my determination. I didn't even know if you were attracted to men - I knew that I myself wasn't, but this was just a game after all - I didn't care, when a Black wants something, he gets it!
I just imagine the horror that my mother would have felt if she had known that I courted a boy, a poor half-blood, and a werewolf at that! I believe I can correctly assume she would have died. Maybe that's even what caused her death? But I highly doubt it.
I chased you everywhere, all the time. I couldn't tear my eyes away from you, I chased off all your suitors, jealous and furious that someone dared jeopardise my plans.
Once, when you were almost going out with a Ravenclaw - how she could have escaped my watch, I have no idea -, I came up beside you and this young girl, in a rage and, I must admit, crazy with jealousy and desire. Just how could she dare try to be with you while I tried like mad to have you?
I remember how I had then pulled you by force, literally torn you from her, taken you in the dormitory under your furious cries and fierce struggling. You were strong, surprisingly strong, but my passion overpowered the rest and gave me an energy I wouldn't have had otherwise. Once in the dormitory, I locked the door under your indignant protests. And you were so handsome, your cheeks red with anger, your eyes shining with fury, your hair in all directions, your body trembling, your muscles tensing, the contained energy ready to explode at any time, your clothes untidy.
I kissed you.
The kiss was full of passion, desperation, and frustration. I had spent months chasing after you, forgetting all my other conquests, and I was in need more than ever.
The kiss was intoxicating. Purely intoxicating. At first, you had been taken by surprise and had frozen, completely taken aback. Then, you had tried to struggle, furiously, fiercely. But I didn't let you go and I pinned you against the wall, trapped you, imprisoning you, making you mine. You never gave up, you cried out, and I took advantage of that, slipping my tongue in your mouth as you fiercely protested and tried to hit me. I don't think I've ever felt something so violent or strong. Your lips weren't soft and you were anything but willing, but maybe it was exactly this resistance that motivated me even more. I know I could have taken you at that instant if you hadn't succeeded in stopping me. You bit my lip, violently, and gave a solid kick of the knee to a sensitive place. And again, I found the pain absolutely wonderful and stimulating. Maybe I was a masochist. But I knew that I wanted to kiss you again, to taste the intoxicating taste of your mouth once more; prickly, savage, and sweet at the same time.
Only I let you go and I didn't have time to catch you before you escaped from my grip, and ran out of the dormitory at full speed, but not without throwing me a "You're completely mad, Black!" and a furious look.
You didn't want me, but I wanted you, and my will prevailed above all.
I remember how James yelled at me, shouting indiscriminately that you weren't some silly girl that I could have with a snap of my fingers, that you, Remus, were my friend above all and that I couldn't play with you too.
I didn't respond.
It wouldn't have done any good. He never would have understood the desire that struck me, the crazy urge I had for you. No one resisted Sirius Black and you, you had been doing so far too long for me to give up and become calm and insensitive again.
How could I explain to my best friend that I wanted you, just because you resisted me, that you were a challenge and a wonderful toy? He couldn't have understood, would have treated me like I was crazy. And that's probably what I was. You made me crazy, Remus, so crazy that I no longer recognised myself.
Why didn't I ever try someone easier, more accessible? I don't know. I had always loved challenges and you would prove yourself to be the toughest I had ever known. Why you out of all people? Once again, I don't know. I had always been attracted to you, from the start. It wasn't love, no, far from it. Rather a sort of macabre fascination. Knowing that you were a werewolf didn't frighten me, and even excited me. Yes, in the end I believe I am a masochist. Ah, who cares! I still didn't have you and that made me crazy.
I was falling into the sweetest and most agonising insanity. I constantly relived the kiss, this near-rape, and I only found myself more thrilled. Your hands that tried to tear me away from you, your nails that sunk into my flesh, your teeth that wanted to hurt me, your dry lips that were averted to touching mine, your vehement and disgusted voice, your warm body against mine...my God! It was more than I could take. I became crazy, literally crazy about you.
I didn't sleep through the night anymore, wanting nothing more than to have you again and again, always so fierce and disobedient - I realised that having you obedient would disgust me -, always struggling against my will.
I wanted you so much that it scared me.
I had never been dependent on anything and certainly not someone! I wanted to corrupt you, to break you, to possess you, but that's where the problem lied, you refused yourself to me and reduced me to nothing.
I know that someone who read my ramblings could confuse what I felt with love, but I know it's not. It was just an obsession, a possessive urge so strong that it cancelled out all common sense and made me a slave of my own impulses.
I tried to trap you again, even more often now that I had tasted your lips. And even more often did you escape me. And inevitably, the more my desire grew. Frankly, I don't believe a growing adolescent can handle such a degree of frustration.
You also shouldn't be surprised at how I succeeded in having you, a second time.
It was at night, one of the nights where I never managed to sleep because of you. I had been chasing after you for precisely one year. All of Hogwarts was aware of my interest, of course, how could they not have been? Everyone saw how I followed you everywhere, how possessive and jealous I was towards anyone who got too close to you, how I had abandoned every other conquest to focus on you alone.
Once again, I state that it has never been about love.
And you were exasperated by the attention I gave you. I prevented you from seeing anyone else, imprisoned you, in the absence of my arms, in a circle that was for me alone.
As soon as some stupid feather-brain wanted to compete with me, they were lucky if I didn't want to kill them. You were mine, whether you wanted to be or not!
My game was becoming too dangerous and with too much at stake for me to come out unharmed.
But let's return to the second time.
As I said, it was at night, the favourable moment where you were most vulnerable. You never thought I could resort to such lows, did you? I had never done it with anyone else. But God knows you aren't just anyone else.
I slid insidiously into your bed, silent and trembling with excitement and anticipation. I had been dreaming of this moment for so long. It didn't matter if you were my friend above all, I wanted you too much, far too much.
And you seemed so innocent, so vulnerable, so defenceless in your sleep...I couldn't resist.
Softly, without any sudden movements, I placed myself on top of you. I held my breath, afraid that you would hear or feel my rapid breathing.
I hadn't been so close to you since the kiss that I had snatched, against your will, and this thought suddenly made me feverish. I craved your touch.
Slowly, I trapped you with my body, so that you couldn't escape - as I had no doubt that you would try to escape. My heart beat to a frenzied and irregular rhythm, so strong that I wouldn't have been surprised if it had escaped my ribcage. Look at the pathetic effect you have on me, Remus! I wanted you as a toy, and I had become your puppet.
You were asleep, and it was normal that you wouldn't respond to the kiss. So why did this electric shock run through my body? I don't know. Still, I couldn't tear myself away from you. A poison, that's what you were. A pure poison.
As passion - yes, passion - took possession of me, I noticed that you were waking up little by little. Imagine my surprise as I noticed that you were responding to my kiss! But that didn't mean anything, of course, I knew. You were just responding to a sign of affection that you believed to be coming from a dream, not a feverish kiss from your perverted friend who just wanted to possess you, no matter how.
But I knew it couldn't last. Inevitably, you were going to wake up, notice it was me you were kissing, and push me away.
The embrace was even more passionate and bruising, and you brought me closer to you, even closer still. I exhilarated. How wonderful it was to finally kiss you like I had dreamed of doing for so long!
But as a moan escaped me and reached your ears, you seemed to become aware of your actions. Your eyes fluttered at full speed, then opened and widened excessively upon recognising me. In an abrupt and violent gesture, you pushed me far away from you, in a combination of physical and magical force.
That shouldn't have surprised me, coming from you. You had always been exceptionally talented in Defence Against the Dark Arts. And after all, didn't I belong there? Didn't I look like a demon of lust?
The collision against one of the wooden columns of your bed caused me to groan in pain.
Fortunately, I had planned a silencing charm in case things turned bad...or good, depending on the case, but that would have really surprised me.
"What the fuck were you doing, Sirius?" you hissed furiously, completely awake now.
Magnificent was the only adjective that came to mind upon seeing you. You were so handsome, furious.
"I was kissing you, wasn't that clear enough?"
No one but me to attempt sarcasm in such a situation.
"You're just a..." Anger stifled the words in your throat. Your eyes shone with hatred.
I would have wanted to kiss you again at that instant, even.
"Go on, what am I, Rem?" I whispered, coming towards you, predator and charmer despite the refusal that I was undoubtedly going to endure. Bah! It couldn't hurt to try.
"A perverted moron coupled with a bastard who would do well to be in Slytherin."
I didn't show how much your retort had affected me. You knew me all too well to effortlessly exploit my weaknesses. Damn.
I put on a charming smile, but I honestly doubt that you were blind to the pain you had caused me.
"What a beautiful description. But you didn't mention my exceptional charm, I'm disappointed."
"Fuck you, Sirius!"
"With you, no problem, Moony."
You gave me a disgusted look.
"Stop fucking kidding me, alright? I know all of this is just a game for you. You aren't really interested in me, at least not in that way, so drop it, ok? It's no use being seductive, intelligent, and everything you want, I'm not going to fall into your arms, Sirius. I'm not like all the girls that you can take as you please. I'm not an object. And our friendship is worth more than this stupid act. You aren't serious, and you know it as well as I do, so stop this idiotic game that's lasted far too long."
The silence dragged on until I softly murmured:
"It's not a game."
"Don't fuck with me! You lie like you breathe, Sirius."
What a low opinion you had of me! You knew me well, Moony, but you never wanted to believe in this side of me.
"Not to my friends."
At your sceptical expression, I decided to go for broke. If I failed this time, I'd stop everything.
"You don't believe me. You've never believed me. Not even about my friendship, even if you pretend otherwise. And you don't believe me when I say I'm sincere, either." I cut you off as I saw you were going to protest. "I know how I am. I know that I'm an irrecoverable Don Juan, that I help myself to girls and then toss them aside. But Moony, haven't you noticed that for a year I've only sought after you? Haven't you noticed that I've changed?"
"You really know how to act, Padfoot."
However, underneath your sour tone, I sensed uncertainty. Was I winning?
"Have a bit of fucking confidence in me would you! This isn't an act. It's not a game either. It's..."
I was stuck on the word. What was it exactly? Even to lie, I cringed at using the word "love".
Maybe you weren't aware of how close we were becoming. Surely not. But I was. Your presence electrified me and the warmth that your body gave off intoxicated me. Were you testing me?
I didn't resist for long, and I swiftly moved closer, holding your face in my hands to prevent you from moving.
It was our third kiss, but it made just as many shivers run up my spine as the other two. Was it normal for you to have such an effect on me?
You still struggled a bit, but upon seeing that I was nowhere near letting you go, you gave in, resigning yourself to your fate. I took full advantage of that and only released you when I began to need air.
I felt like a layer of fog was clouding my mind.
"If that's how you think you're going to convince me of your sincerity, you're mistaken Sir. I know your techniques."
A dull anger ran through me. Why did you have to doubt me so much?
"I fucking love you! I've loved you for years! All these girls, it was just because I couldn't have you! Do you honestly believe that I would get so worked up over trying every possible way to have you for a year if it was just a game? Trust me, Rem, for once! I'm sincere. I'm not kidding you. You might think that all of this was just an act, but it's true. Dammit, I've never been more myself than now! You know me, you know when I'm wearing a mask, and when I let it fall. So tell me...What do you see, here, now?"
Your eyes were troubled as you fixed them on my face, scrutinising it. I prayed that my features wouldn't betray anything of my little scheme. Our friendship was hanging on by a thread.
After what felt like an endless amount of time, you finally nodded your head. It was a light movement, hardly noticeable, almost stiff, but it was there. And I let go of the breath that I didn't know I'd been holding in.
"So...you'll give me a chance ?" I asked, hopeful.
I tried to prepare myself for a refusal. You never acted without thinking after all.
"I don't love you, Sirius, not like that," you said, shaking your head.
"Let me try anyway," I prodded, upset regardless.
"Try what?" you asked cynically. "To make me fall in love with you?"
"That's a part of my plan," I conceded.
But a really tiny part.
You shook your head. "You're hopeless."
"So you accept then?"
"Isn't that what you've been trying to do for a year?" You remarked, a mocking smile on your lips.
"It hasn't really had the desired effect until now," I replied with a sulky pout.
So much determination and not even the tiniest result. You really were a very difficult case.
"And it won't."
Apparently you loved to crush my hopes!
"We don't know that."
You rolled your eyes and gently but firmly pushed me away. I had almost forgotten how close we were.
"Idiot. Now get out of my bed, I'd like to sleep without you bothering me."
"You sure of that?" I asked with a seductive grin.
Nothing ventured, nothing gained, after all.
"Completely sure, idiot," you said as you pushed me, a bit more roughly this time, out of your bed.
"Have sweet dreams of me, Moony," I murmured with a dazzling smile...which had no effect. Why did you have to be one of the rare people who resisted my legendary charm?
"You're mistaking your desires for reality," you muttered, before pulling the curtains of your bed closed and laying back down. I heard the noise of the covers and your breathing, which little by little became regular and slowed down.
After a few minutes, I tried to softly open your curtains again. No use, they were joined together. My lips twisted into a cynical smile. You had warded me off well, Lupin.
I got back in my bed, alone and silent, but with a victorious smile on my lips.
I had a chance.
Several weeks had to pass before your resistances started to weaken. It wasn't much, insignificant, and no one besides me would have noticed, but the signs were definitely there.
You no longer avoided me, you responded to my smiles, let me sit next to you - even if you never let me too close -, and spoke to me cordially. In short, one could have believed that our old friendship was back. But I knew this wasn't the case. That friendship was corrupted by the desire that I felt towards you, and it wouldn't go back to normal until I would finally achieve my goal: to have you entirely to myself.
For these few weeks, my attitude was less flirtatious, and it paid off. What an idiot I was to have forgotten that you weren't like the others, that you hated my seductive habits. In short, I took to my new role, that of a bashful lover who courted his ice angel - I apologise for the excessive enthusiasm, usually I hate poetry - and it was going surprisingly well. Obviously I was a very good actor.
Finally, you no longer rejected my more audacious advances, my more than friendly hugs, my innuendo-filled words. At every act or word a bit too "expressive", you rolled your eyes and gave an exasperated sigh, but I saw that it touched you and pleased you. I was inwardly rejoicing.
I was winning.
I didn't care about lying to you, or wrecking our friendship. My desire -can we really speak of desire when the phase is so advanced?- was too strong for me to go back now.
My patience had to be tried for two more months. The end of our sixth year was near. Lord, how time had flown!
But finally, the result was there and you had agreed to try with me. These were your own words and it could have been insulting, but I was too happy that I had finally achieved my goal to take offence.
The effect that you had on me didn't seem to lessen after time but I didn't pay too much attention. We had only been "going out" for several days after all.
Finally having you close to me intoxicated me and knowing that I alone had the right to hold you made my heart cry out in victory, in particular when I saw the crestfallen faces of your suitors. Ah! Victory was sweet. Sweeter than torture. After more than a year of chasing, I had finally succeeded in capturing my prey.
Sure, you pushed me away when I got too enthusiastic, but that didn't really bother me. As long as I had the right to your presence and intoxicating kisses, I was happy.
Or that was what I told myself.
I wanted more, always more. It didn't really surprise me. After all this time chasing after you, didn't I deserve a little compensation?
You had escaped me so often, refused yourself to me so much that it was a miracle if I didn't give up, after the cruel wait that you had imposed on me!
My mind was at ease only when you were there, my thoughts were only focused on you when you were absent, so much that James thought I was obsessed, depressed, or something even worse.
I loved my new toy, and after so much time waiting for it I couldn't take full advantage of it. It was unfair!
Our relationship – or attempt, as you loved to say – lasted all in all only thirteen days.
Was fate harassing me?
I remember how you told me, that famous day, that it couldn't work, that an us wasn't possible because my friendship was too important in your eyes for us to run the risk of ruining everything.
I wanted to laugh at these words!
What a utopian you were, Lupin, for believing that it was still possible to return to our old friendship!
I pretended to accept your decision. Only, with my words neatly chosen, a carefully prepared pout, and an upset tone, I managed to make you feel guilty and go back on your decision.
With great effort I held myself back from crying out in victory when you finally decided to take me back. I wasn't finished with you, not yet, not so soon, and it was out of the question that you would thwart my plans.
I was given another month.
You still didn't lose your novelty and I started to become afraid. But I quickly reassured myself by telling myself that with the time that it had taken to have you, I could take advantage of you for a little longer. And after all, I hadn't had everything yet.
Yet, I had to admit one thing: I was dependent. Horribly dependent on you. And it was that, more than anything, that convinced me to stop.
I knew, deep inside me, that if I let things continue I wouldn't to be able to come out unharmed. The damage was already too great for me to risk losing even more.
This time, I was the one who chose to break up.
I was horrified at the dependence that I felt in regards to you, and the fact that I didn't grow tired of our relationship – you had finally accepted that term – especially scared me. Never, oh never ever had I stayed with someone for so long – the record was twelve days, ah, what irony! - and my satisfaction at this accomplishment was far from pleasing me.
I had wished, honestly, that you would beg me not to break up with you. I had hoped it with all my heart, to be frank.
But no, you were strong, much stronger than I, and you seemed to feel no pain at this separation.
Suddenly we no longer formed a couple and that didn't seem to affect you in the least, as if these damned weeks were worth nothing in your eyes!
I was furious, because I thought I had been tricked, betrayed, while in fact I had known from the beginning that you didn't want me.
I had been too sure of myself – damn Black's arrogance! - and was paying the price for my vanity. I had thought I could have the world at my feet and conquer you without any problem...and maybe it was true that the world belonged to me, but in this case you weren't a part of that world, no, you were far above it. You had always been careful to put a distance between you and I, had never shown any particularly deep attachment to me. I was sure that in your eyes, this was just a friendship taken a bit far, nothing more.
I persuaded myself in the course of several weeks that this experiment had meant nothing to me either, that it didn't have the utmost importance. I repeated this leitmotif to myself so much that I managed to convince myself that it was true.
It's so easy to lie to oneself.
And then, it was just a game, after all...right?
Suddenly, I wasn't sure of my assertions anymore. Was that really it? Just an experiment, a desire for novelty, a futility, an act, a game? I had said I loved you and laughed upon seeing you believe my words...but didn't they have a little bit of truth, deep down? Had I fallen into my own trap?
To see you, a smile on your lips, your fingers interlaced with that damned Ravenclaw that I had first been jealous of, that was the last straw.
Full of resentment, bitterness, and jealousy, I told Snape everything. Where you went every Full Moon, how to follow you, the way to enter the tunnel. But not what you were, no, this, I reserved for him as a surprise.
I didn't realise what I had done until it was too late, and from that moment on, our friendship – which was no longer anything more than a façade – completely crumbled.
I had corrupted a friendship with an act, my whims, my lies, my damn desire for you and I dearly paid the price.
The Marauders broke up little by little. On one side there was Lily and James, you and I weren't anything anymore...and Peter.
Is it my mistake of falling in love with you that condemned us all? I'm afraid it is.
You never loved me and when, to play my role to perfection, I said I felt love for you, I only deluded myself.
It's now, while I rot in Azkaban, that I realise.
The truth is that I've always lied.
I became addicted and after a while, it was no longer just a game.
And in the end, I lost.
A/N: This one-shot has to be the longest one that I've ever written...8 pages in Word.
My original idea was much less soft (the fic had to have an M rating because of near-rape) and Sirius had to be a complete bastard the whole time...Unfortunately for him, I chose to make him fall in love (but too late), refusing him what he wanted (to have Remus completely) and make him suffer even more (making him realise his mistakes and regret his decisions). Did I do well?
Please give me your opinions.
T/N: I'm still in the process of translating the second chapter to this fanfic, which is told in Remus' POV. I'll try to finish it as soon as possible.