Title: Where the Wolf Lies Down with the Lion

Fandom: Harry Potter/Wolf’s Rain

Parings: Moony/Tsume, Remus/Tsume, past Remus/Sirius implied
Rating: R

Warnings: Slash/Yaoi and graphic wolf sex
Spoilers: HP3

Settings: I think this is set a few years before Harry’s year three in the HP-verse and many years before the Wolf’s Rain series starts
Disclaimer: I own neither the Harry Potter world & characters nor the Wolf’s Rain universe and its characters. I get no money from this as it’s just a simple fanfic meant for entertainment purposes only

Summary: One night during a full moon, Moony meets a mysterious, furry stranger who makes memories flood back painfully.

Feedback: I’d love some

Where the Wolf Lies Down with the Lion

Moony sank his teeth into a pheasant, savoring the warmth the blood gave him on such a cold night. He felt its life drain away and it stopped struggling as he clenched it tightly in his jaws. He knew how it felt to have its life slowly drain away and wished he could have given up his struggle as easily. But his instincts kicked in before he could further reflect, the smell of the kill too enticing. He snarled and tore at it with teeth and claws until feathers were stripped and the meat was raw and bloody as it slid down his throat. He had been hunting all night and only now had been able to catch something. It used to be easier with Padfoot around to help him.

From behind, Moony heard the sound of growling, and his head whipped around to see another wolf. Where Moony was a soft brown, this wolf was gray. It had large paws and a snout with sharp teeth bared and drool dripping from the side. Moony’s snout dripped of blood, which splattered the frosted fall ground as he moved his head to motion towards his kill.

The gray wolf leapt upon it, ripping it to shreds hungrily. It held the body down with one paw as it stripped all the meat he could find off the small bird’s bones. He left the scraps for Moony, panting and backing off, tongue running against his teeth and chin. Moony, tail between his legs, head hung, amber eyes staring up at the other wolf, approached it slowly. And even more cautiously, Moony stuck out his tongue and licked the other wolf’s snout clean of blood and remaining bits of meat. Then he nuzzled the other wolf affectionately like a pack mate.

The gray wolf snarled but did not strike. It backed up, and Moony could see a scar on its chest. This wolf had been hurt in the past, up close. Moony knew far too well what that was like as well. No longer had this wolf a pack, or friends, and apparently just as little luck as he had catching dinner that night. This wolf was as far away from Padfoot as Moony could get, and he relished that.

At once, Moony turned around and slumped down to the ground. He dragged his hindquarters across the grass, whimpering with desire and need. He looked back at the wolf, to see it actually considering his offer. Then it paced around him, staring at him closely, sniffing him strongly. As it came around his rear for the second time, it decided to act. It leapt onto Moony’s back, gray paws digging into the brown fur. It stabbed at Moony hard, humping as though it had not had a good hump in years.

Moony knew too well how that felt. He had not been taken like this since Padfoot had been around, so many years ago. He felt the warmth and viciousness of the wolf as it took him roughly. They panted hard at the effort and grunted, moving together in a natural rhythm. Moony knew animals felt differently than humans when they mated, and that this was purely instinctual, but he hoped the gray wolf enjoyed it at much as he did. He treasured every moment of desire and brutal passion until he came hard. The gray wolf bit down on his shoulder, a muffled howl as it followed Moony to the planes of pleasure.

But the gray wolf was not yet done. As though Moony were a bitch in heat, it finished ejaculating and swiveled around so that it faced away from him, but did not pull out. Moony whimpered again, in extreme pleasure. The sensation of the other wolf still filled him fully in a way he had never experienced. He felt himself shake and work back up. The other wolf stayed inside him for nearly half an hour, pushing, pulling, letting him savor the feel as nature intended. Before long, he was ejaculating again and howling with both the pain and pleasure that it brought. The gray wolf waited for him to finish before finally pulling out.

Moony sighed and whimpered, turning around and stiffly walking over beside the other wolf. He nuzzled the wolf affectionately in thank you, then closed his eyes and slumped back onto the cold ground. The other wolf waited a moment, then ran off, disappearing into the forest. Moony watched him go, his coat glistening silver in the full moon’s light. He wished the wolf had stayed like Padfoot did after sex. He tried to forget the soft, sweet companionship of the black dog on his full moon nights, and instead forced himself to recall the instinctual pleasure he had just been given.

But in mere moments, the wolf was back, bending over him, nudging him. It growled and made Moony rise onto four shaking paws. It made Moony follow him into the forest. And it made its way to a spot beneath a tree where a pile of leaves had been stomped down. It turned around several times, pawing at the leaves in signal. Moony took its invitation and curled up in the center of the pile. The wolf followed him, curling around him instinctively to keep warm. Moony nuzzled him again, then drifted off to sleep.

He hadn’t meant to fall asleep so long, knowing full well what the dangers would be if he woke in the morning and the wolf found a man beside him. But the absolute passion and excitement of the night before exhausted him in a way he had not been in years, and he underestimated his fatigue. Remus woke to the soft rays of the sun on his pale cheek as it streamed down between the trees. He rubbed his eyes with his forefingers and felt a furry warmth against his back.

The wolf had not left him during the night. It lay still and peaceful, eyes wide open and staring straight at him. Remus knew that if it had wanted him dead, it would have killed him by now but, too, he was scared to death to move any more for fear that it would strike.

“What are you?” it asked softly, but with a cold, unfriendly feel to its voice. And before Remus’ eyes, a man lay curled around him now, with whitish-silver hair and that same scar on his chest. Remus backed away at once, startled, his heart pounding. Leaves were tossed into the air as he disturbed them. A few landed on his naked body and he was too scared to do anything about them. The wolf reached over, gently, and brushed them off, one by one. Though he used his hand, Remus felt the sensation of a cold, wet nose brush against his pale skin. He looked up at Remus, who was sitting only feet away. “You are a wolf… and a man. You smell like both.” He took a deep sniff, nose pointed high in the air. Then he smiled. “And you smell of lust. And of me.”

Remus nodded. He had been marked, he had been claimed, he had been taken. But he had thought it just another wolf. Apparently, the other wolf had thought the same of him. For a moment, Remus wasn’t sure the wolf had remembered what had transpired between them, but then he said, “Why did you allow me to do that to you, Human?”

Remus shrugged. “I was as much a wolf last night as I am a human now.” He leaned forward as he sat, resting his elbows on bent knees. He ran his hands through his brown hair, strands of gray matching the man’s hair, though he looked far younger than Remus. “It has been a long time since I had someone to be with in that way,” he said finally, his long fingers still wriggling through his hair so it blocked his face from view. “My pack is gone.”

The man narrowed his eyes, though looked a bit surprised. “You had a pack?” Remus nodded. “A mate?” Remus nodded again. “What happened to them?”

“They are all dead.” Or as good as dead. “I have no one to howl at the full moon with anymore.”

The man seemed to understand. He sat up, too, legs spread and bent, arms resting in between with his hands on the ground. A loose interpretation of how a wolf sits upright. “I am sorry.” His voice was cold, uncaring, but his eyes showed his deep sympathy.

Remus nodded. He didn’t want the other to see him so emotional. He blinked tears back from his eyes and sniffed hard. With a deep breath, he lifted his head, then stuck his hand out. “My name is Remus Lupin.”

The other man hesitated a moment, looking at his hand. There were small scratches and cuts on it, and small flecks of blood that remained from the night before’s hunt and kill. Not understanding, he stuck his hand out as well. “Tsume.” Remus took his hand, gave it a shake, then pulled back quickly. It was like shaking hands with a heavy paw.

There was silence a while, then the man lay back down, hands behind his head, arms akimbo. He looked tired, apparently from having been on the run so long at night. “I live just beyond that ridge,” he said, gesturing with a nod of his head in the proper direction. “We could go get some food, or some tea? It’s rather chilly…”

The other man smirked. “You have no fur to keep you warm now.” Remus shook his head. “Then go on off to your house and leave the wild to the rest of us.” Remus wanted to be warm, yes, but he did not budge at Tsume’s words.

The silence this time was worse than before. Finally, Remus turned a little, looking to the man who looked like the wolf he had been. “Tsume…” he mused, thinking hard. He ran two fingers slowly up the man’s body, feeling fur again but this time he had expected as much. It was still odd, however, to expect the feel of skin or leather where the man wore black clothes, and get fur. He paused where the scar was, figured just centimeters from it. “Your name means ‘claw’ in Japanese.”

The man looked impressed and nodded. But he reached out and grabbed Remus’ hand just before his fingers could make it to the scar. “There’s a reason that’s my name.” Remus pulled back. Had he felt teeth on his wrist? Or were they claws? He slid his hand gingerly over his wrist in the place where they had lightly touched him. “And your name…”

Remus supplied the explanation. “Remus is the name of one of the founders of Rome, raised by wolves. And Lupin comes from the Latin lupus. Means wolf-like.”

“Wolf-like,” the man snarled mockingly.

Remus looked down, not exactly ashamed, simply not wanting to meet the other’s eyes right now. He was covered in splotches of blood and cuts of his own doing. He needed a warm shower and a strong cup of tea. He stood at once, showing his full, naked body to the man. “I am going back. If you’d like to come, there will be a warm fire and more food than I can eat.” He turned, leaving Tsume lying in the pile of leaves which had been a more comfortable nest to sleep in than his own bed. He was nearing the top of the ridge, looking down at his small wooden cabin in the valley, when he heard the soft pounding of paws.

At once his heart leapt and foolishly he wheeled around, expecting to see Padfoot, the bear-sized black dog bounding up to him. But it was the gray wolf, its eyes trained on him. He did not recoil or fall back in fear of being attacked by the wolf. And it came to a halt at his side, looking up at his with pale amber eyes. It nodded to him, and he nodded back, and the two walked down to Remus’ cabin.

Remus closed the door behind them, and made his way over to the fireplace, though pulling a cloak from the rack as he went to keep himself from shivering outwardly. He retrieved his wand from the top of the mantle in a small locked box he used for it each month. Then he squatted down in front of the fireplace and conjured a spell which made the flames burst to life amongst the logs. Tsume followed him over, looking amazed, and knelt down in front of the fire, rubbing his hands together. “I’m going to take a quick shower,” Remus said, gesturing to his shoddy appearance. “Ah, make yourself at home.” And feeling oddly as though he had just taken in a stray, Remus headed to the bathroom.

His shower was fast, just as much blood mixing at his feet and running down the drain as water. He pulled on khaki trousers and a black turtleneck to hide as much of his scratched and bruised appearance as possible. Then, towel-drying his hair, headed back to the cabin’s main room.

The gray wolf was curled up on the hearth rug, basking in the warmth of the fire. Remus resisted the temptation to reach down and rub its furry belly. Instead, Remus put on a pot of tea and took some of his dinner out of the fridge to warm it up; he was sure Tsume would want his meat warm but not cooked.

He heard the wolf’s whine and turned around quickly. His first thought was that something had attacked it. But it appeared that whatever pursued the wolf was doing so in its dreams. Its feet flipped at its wrists, as though pawing quickly at the ground in a sprint. Its body twitched, and its snout which had snarled at him the night before so viciously, now opened to emanate soft, helpless whines and whimpers. Remus hesitated, not wanting to wake the wolf only to have it bite his arm off. The wolf which had bit him in the first place had done so on his arm and he had no wish to repeat that terrifying and painful experience. He walked over halfway, wiping his hands with a dishtowel. “Tsume?” he whispered, wondering if that was the name the wolf recognized as its own. In an instant, the wolf turned back into a man, kneeling on the ground, panting hard, almost sobbing as he shook with fear. Remus grabbed the afghan off the back of the couch and bent down beside the man, wrapping it around his shivering, shaking body. “It’s all right,” he soothed in but a whisper. “Just a dream.” Tsume pushed Remus away harshly when the man had tried to put a comforting hand on his back. But he kept the blanket wrapped around himself.

He sat back on his hindquarters, still panting heavily, the colorful blanket standing out against his black leather outfit and white hair. His eyes, so pale and so full of hurt, looked around the room. Remus now noticed the man had earrings, small golden half-hoops in each ear, and another longer, thicker hoop in his left ear. At the back of his head, two bits of hair shot out like a sharp tail.

“Food?” Remus asked, and the man nodded. Remus headed back over to the kitchen area. “Water or tea or milk to drink?” he called back, getting out a mug for his own tea.

“You… have milk?” Tsume asked cautiously.

“I do. Would you like it warm?” Remus asked, looking over his shoulder to see Tsume’s eager nod. He took out a wide-rimmed glass, poured some from the bottle, tapped the glass with the tip of his wand, and whispered a spell to warm it. Then he prepared his own tea and carried the drinks and a platter of meat over to Tsume, who seemed to prefer staying on the floor than any of the furniture or the table. “It’s cow,” Remus said, seeing the man stare down at the plate. “Eat it all, I’m not hungry.” Tsume grabbed the chunk of meat and sank his teeth in, ripping pieces off hungrily. “I have some chicken, too, if you’re still hungry after that.” Tsume looked up at him, over the hunk of meat, his eyes full of gratefulness. Then he grabbed the glass of milk. And though it looked to Remus as though he were drinking it, Remus heard the sound of lapping and bits of milk splattered Tsume’s face when he put down the glass.

Remus sipped his tea, letting the warmth fill him from within so fully. His eyes, though trained on the fire, took in a bit of Tsume out of the corners. “More?” Remus asked as Tsume gulped down the last bite and then drained his glass.

But Tsume shook his head, looking all too satisfied. “I have not eaten so well in months,” he admitted, voice low and tired. “Thank you.” He heaved a great sigh and rose to his feet. He dropped the blanket beside Remus and took a weary step back. “I will not bother you further…”

Remus snatched up the blanket and stood, facing him. He wrapped the blanket around Tsume’s body again. “You look exhausted.” Remus knew how tired he, himself, got after large meals, especially when his stomach was unsteady or not used to eating so much. “Take a nap by the fire before you’re on your way.” He looked out the window. “Fall is almost over. Snows will start soon. Best to be as warm as possible before you head off.”

Tsume swayed a little, slowly considering the offer. Then he gave a soft whimper and dropped back down to his knees weakly. He turned in place, then curled up in the center of the rug. Remus tucked the blanket around him to cover him better. Then, holding his breath, reached out to stroke the top of the man’s head. His hair felt like soft, thick fur. “You’re safe here,” Remus whispered, petting the man as though he were a pet dog. The way he had used to stroke Sirius. Remus leaned back against the base of the couch and closed his eyes. He looked down to find the gray wolf resting his head in Remus’ lap, eyes closed. Remus continued to stroke and pet until they both fell asleep.

Tired out from his transformation, Remus did not wake for hours. When he did, he found himself alone in the cabin, the blanket draped over him. “Tsume?” he called, but the wolf had gone, having closed the door behind him. Taking the blanket with him, he walked to the door, throwing it open, almost expecting to see the wolf sitting there with a dead rabbit at its feet as a present for him. But he realized, as he desperately scanned the valley to the top of the ridge for signs, that what he was really looking for was the big black dog happily bounding down to him. Tears welling in his eyes, Remus slammed the door shut, shook off the blanket, and headed for the warmth and comfort of his bed.

* * *

Remus woke one morning months later from what he assumed was the harsh roar of wind outside his cabin window. He did not bother lifting his head, for he had not the energy to move unnecessarily. His transformation had been terrible. Once they had been painful to his body, but now it was his mind that suffered. Once he had possessed a wolf’s mind in a wolf’s body, then a man's mind in a wolf's body, but now he was not sure what he was when he transformed. All he knew was that he no longer had the companionship to keep him sane, to keep him happy. And he woke to ripped and torn sheets that morning that did not protect him from the cold blizzard that surrounded his cabin.

But there was a loud banging coming from the main room that went above the storm. He rose, pulling on a bathrobe as he headed into the main room of the cabin. The noise was louder as he did, and he finally realized it was his door, which shook with the pounding. He headed to it immediately, pulling it open and raising a hand to his face to keep the snow from his eyes.

Tsume stood there, one arm hanging limply by his side His other hand clutched the weak arm, blood trickling down and staining the snow. He leaned to one side, looking up at Remus with his amber eyes, silently asking for refuge. “Come in at once.” Remus reached out and pushed him inside, closing the door hard behind. Tsume limped in, heading straight for the fireplace. He swayed wearily, then collapsed onto the rug. “Tsume!” Remus called, dashing across the room and kneeling beside the man. His face was pale, almost as white as his hair, and his clothes were torn. Remus went to the bedroom to get his wand, then hesitated, wondering whether it might not be better just to bring Tsume to bed. But he returned a moment later with only a pillow and his ratty old comforter which was full of rips and tears but was nonetheless thick and warm.

Remus lit the fire, eased the pillow under Tsmue’s head, and wrapped the blanket around him. He dashed over to the bathroom and returned with disinfectant and bandages just as Tsume began to wake. “What…?” he sneezed and shivered violently as Remus settled down in front of him.

“Hush,” whispered Remus. “You’ll be warm in a moment.” He reached out to Tsume. “Now let me see that arm—”

Jumpy, Tsume pulled back. But the couch was directly behind him, and he hit it with a painful thump. Feeling cornered, he jumped to his feet, shivering, and backed away.

Remus stayed put, trying to remain calm. His own legs were tired, unsteady, and he hoped he wouldn’t have to try and support Tsume. “I just want to tend to your wound.” His own eyes bore into the other man’s. The wolf had come there for a reason and Remus would be damned if he’d let Tsume leave without a full belly and a mended arm. “You know me? You remember me?”

Slowly, Tsume nodded.

“Then let me help you.” He patted the blanket.

Tsume paused, then walked forward, dropping down to all fours halfway there, and crawling back onto the blankets, limping even worse. He flopped down onto the blanket, whimpering. Remus set to work on the wound, warning him when it would sting, then patching it up with thick bandages. It looked deep and terrible, as though something had attacked him and won. He was astonished Tsume had been able to walk at all with the pain it must be giving him. Remus reached up and stroked Tsume’s head comfortingly. “There now. I’ll change the bandages often until the bleeding stops, but you’ll be all right. Do you understand?” The man looked as though he were in a daze.

Tsume lifted his eyes to meet Remus’. He laid a hand, heavy as a paw, on Remus’ arm urgently. “Meat?”

Remus nodded. “I have some, but let me get you some milk first or it will hurt your stomach.”

“Stomach already hurts,” he snapped, his lip curling, but he gulped down the large glass of milk in mere seconds, nonetheless. Remus brought him what little beef he had left, and followed that with a plateful of uncooked chicken. Tsume looked hesitant at it, but then dug in. His eating soon slowed, but he licked the plate clean before closing his eyes and suppressing a burp.

“Better?” asked Remus, and Tsume nodded wearily.

“T-traveling in this weather for almost a week. No tracks to follow. Nothing to eat.” Remus pulled the blanket around him more tightly and rubbed a hand up and down the man’s back to further warm him.

“I understand. But you’re safe here. And you will warm up soon.”

“I am warmer,” he replied, inching closer to Remus. He turned back into a wolf, and though Remus was aware of this ability of his, it still startled him to see it happen so suddenly. Though it reminded him of animagi. “And tired.”

Remus patted his lap this time, and Tsume laid his head there again. He laid his good arm over Remus’ legs as though to hold the man down. In mere seconds, he had fallen to sleep. Remus stroked him soothingly, hands rubbing the furry snout, then the top of his head. Remus scratched behind his ears instinctively, and was suddenly struck with the memory of how much Padfoot had liked when he did that. Sometime much later, Remus drifted off to sleep as well.

He woke in the early afternoon to find that this time Tsume had not abandoned him. The wolf was awake, but had patiently waited for Remus before stirring. He appeared again as a man, and sat up. Then he pointed to his bandage, which had bled through. Remus scrambled over to the bandages and changed his dressings as carefully as possible. “What happened to you?” he risked asking.

Tsume hesitated, then answered coldly, “A man shot me for getting too near his chickens. I managed to pull the bullet out myself, but could not stop the bleeding.” He looked warmer, but still terribly pale. Remus nodded with understanding. “Thank you.”

Remus nodded again. “Feeling warmer?”

“Much. Though… I would like… if you have more…”

“Meat?” asked Remus, rising to his feet.

Tsume smiled. “No, milk.” Remus smiled and got him some, warming it up with another tap of his wand on the way back.

“You may stay here as long as you need to,” Remus said, watching the man drink politely but hearing lapping sounds just the same. “The blizzard is supposed to end in a few days time. And I wouldn’t want you traveling with that wound until it has better healed. You won’t be able to catch anything with a leg that injured.”

“You look tired, yourself,” said Tsume, looking over Lupin.

“It was a hard full moon last night,” replied Remus, not sure the man fully understood. “I… had no pack to watch over me.”

But Tsume did understand, and gestured to his arm accordingly. He shook with a violent yawn, then curled up, head on the pillow this time. “This blanket,” he said weakly. “It smells of more than you.”

Remus nodded. He ran a bit of the fabric between his fingers. “It’s the thickest blanket I own. My mate gave it to me. Years ago when I was a wolf, I used to sleep on hard, wooden floors. He gave this to me so that I would be warm but not feel guilty if my claws or teeth tore it.”

Tsume nodded, sniffled, and closed his eyes to sleep again. Remus watched him for a while, stroking him comfortingly, before heading back to his own bedroom, exhausted. He curled up with one of his favorite novels, but fell asleep before reading more than a page.

Remus woke hours later, the storm still raging, the wind still blowing outside the cabin. His bed shook, and he looked down to find Tsume crawling into bed with him. “What’s wrong?” he asked, pulling away from the man, startled.

Tsume said nothing, only whined and looked at him with those hurt eyes. It was clear. The wolf was lonely. He could have sought refuge in a cave, or at any of the abandoned cabins in the mountains now that tourist season was over. But instead he had chosen to be with Remus. And accordingly, he wanted to actually be with Remus. Remus held out an arm to invite him to come closer, then pulled the covers up over them both. “Let me see your arm,” said Remus, inspecting the bandages. They would need to be changed again soon, just not yet. “How do you feel?” he asked as the sensation of fur brushed against his side.

“Well enough,” was his reply, and the look in his eyes now said everything.

Remus took the man in his arms, feeling fur but not caring. Tsume smiled broadly, then slid down, pulling Remus’ pajama bottoms off with his teeth. When Remus closed his eyes, he felt as though as wolf were on him, but with them open he was mesmerized by Tsume’s brilliant amber eyes. “Take me,” he whispered, lying spread-eagle on his back. Tsume pounced on him, growling and panting with excitement.

“Dinner,” Remus called, making his way into the bedroom. He was shirtless but covered in small bandages, remnants of both the last night and the love-making session. On the tray were drinks and plates of dinner, Remus’ was a cooked wing of chicken, and Tsume’s was a larger portion of chicken and as raw as it came. Tsume devoured his hungrily, stripping the meat from the bone. He watched Remus eat curiously. “My stomach can’t take it too raw unless I’m in wolf form,” he confessed as he looked almost longingly at the way Tsume tore apart his meal, grateful for every bite.

“I’ve been thinking…” he said between mouthfuls. “With my leg like this, and all the snow, that I shouldn’t head out for a while. Maybe weeks even. And then I thought of how nice it would be to see you again as a wolf.” He reached over to Remus’ chin and Remus felt a cold nose nuzzle him. “We could howl at the moon together.” He paused, trying his best to read Remus’ expression. “Would… would you mind my staying for so long?”

Remus finally shook his head. “Stay as long as you like. It will be good to have another wolf in the house.” Then he grinned slyly. “And in my bed.” Tsume grinned back.

The evening found Tsume curled up in the old comforter in front of the fire again, this time with Remus snuggling down into it with him. “Here, try this one now,” said Remus, blowing into the cup and stirring it with a spoon. Tsume accepted it, attempting to take it with his bad hand, but then switching to his good one. He took a cautionary sip, then pulled back in disgust. “Oh, don’t tell me it’s too bitter now!” exclaimed Remus, taking it from him and drinking some himself.

Tsume made a face and shook his head. “No, too sweet still.”

“Too sweet?” said Remus, and he took another sip. “Are you mad? This is the most bitter tea I’ve ever tasted. It’s double strong and there’s no hint of sugar or honey.”

Tsume shrugged. “Too sweet.”

Remus narrowed his eyes. “Are you just saying that to test me?” Tsume shrugged again, and Remus leaned forward, giving him a soft kiss on the cheek, then a soft punch to the stomach. Slightly winded, Tsume smiled. “Don’t test me,” said Remus plainly, handing back the tea. “And finish it.” Tsume rolled his eyes but obliged. It was nothing like the Japanese teas he had had several times before, but he didn’t like it any better. But Remus seemed to be enamored with the stuff. “Not used to taking orders, I see?” Remus said at the look of annoyance on Tsume’s face.

“I travel a lot, I’m on my own,” he said. “But sometimes I settle for a while in a city and take up with a group of humans. I teach them to fight, to stick up for themselves. And I make sure they get enough to eat.”

“A born alpha if I’ve ever heard of one,” remarked Remus.

But Tsume did not agree. “They weren’t my pack. I wouldn’t… not humans…” he snorted in disgusted and drank some more. “So,” he said, in between gulps. “You were going to tell me about your pack. Were they all… like you?” he asked, tactfully.

Remus shook his head. “No… I mean, they were similar, human and magical…”

“But not wolves?”

Remus nodded. “Not wolves. But some could become other animals. One was a tall, beautiful, noble stag. With a full set of antlers that looked as though they reached for the moon itself. Another was a rat, small and meek but helpfully stealthy. And another…” he broke off. Thus far he had avoided all mention of Sirius or Padfoot. Of what he was. Of what he did.

“…was your mate,” Tsume finished for him, sounding cold and full of reason.

With a sigh and a nod, “Yes.” Remus looked down at his own cup of tea, swirling it around with circular ripples dancing for him. “Yes,” he said again, swallowing all emotions. “Yes, well, wolves don’t have to mate for life do they?”

“Sounds like you wanted to.”

Remus blinked back hot tears and cleared his throat. He grabbed Tsume’s cup of tea and pulled out of the warmth of the blanket. “I wanted a lot of things that never happened.” He tore from the spot, going over to the kitchen to make another attempt at the tea.

An owl flew in through the magically enchanted window, frozen and dripping with snow. It soared over Remus’ head and into the main room where the owl perch was. Remus set down his things to retrieve its letter, but did not think to get there as quickly as needed. Spotting the bird at once, the wolf had leapt to his feet and began leaping across the room to get on it. He sprang off the back of the couch into the air as it soared up near the ceiling. He crashed into a bookshelf, knocking the stud for one shelf and sending its contents sliding onto the floor. He overturned a lamp, just nearly missing the owl’s tail feathers. Remus tackled him, pinning him to the floor with a yelp of pain. “No!” he yelled, jumping up and grabbing the owl.

He stroked it soothingly and set it back in its perch. It cooed appreciatively and held its leg out for him to take the letter. Then it ate a little seed, drank a little water, and began preening to dry himself off after the flight through the snow storm.

Remus returned to Tsume and helped him up. He clutched his arm in main, shooting daggers through his stare at Remus. Remus shook his head. “There are a few rules in this cabin. And the first is: do not eat the owls.” He held up a letter. “They come to bring me mail, not to be dinner. Are you clear on this point?” Tsume eyed the bird hungrily but nodded all the same. “Good.”

“What are your other rules then?” hissed Tsume through gritted teeth.

“I’m not sure,” said Remus, examining the letter which was merely a confirmation for a food order he had placed. “I’ll come up with them when I need to. Let’s just say tearing apart my home to get at the post bird is something that belongs on that list.” He signed off on the order and tied it around the owl’s leg. “Rest a while before taking off,” Remus whispered to it, not wanting to pet it and disturb its cleaning cycle. “This isn’t urgent.” The bird lifted its head, a feather in its beak, and blinked at him in understanding.

Remus sighed and sat back down on the floor. “Look, I’m sorry, I should have warned you.” He held a hand out to the man, who looked grumpy and doubtful that this was such a good idea. “Let me take another look at your arm and make sure I didn’t make it any worse,” he said softly. Tsume limped over and held it out, whimpering as Remus touched a sore spot on it. “I’m sorry,” Remus repeated. It didn’t look any worse, apart from the dressings needing to be changed again because the wound had reopened, but it was still his fault.

“This is why I don’t do packs,” he said coldly, looking over to the window as though suddenly hoping the snow would clear up and he would be on his way.

Remus changed the bandages and kissed the spot just above it gently. Then he kissed the man’s upper arm. And moved across his shoulder to his face. He felt fur, but what he saw was a calm, pleasured expression on Tsume’s face. “And this is why you should,” he whispered, leaning against the man and pushing him down onto the blanket and rug with a mischievous smile. “Don’t worry,” he said, kissing more passionately. “I’ll be mindful of your arm this time.”

* * *

“You don’t have to understand,” Remus whispered, his hand up and arm extended as though to keep Tsume as far back as possible. “Just get out and close the door and don’t let me out until the noise dies down.” Remus curled up into a fetal position on the bed shaking. His hands flexed as though they were waiting for claws to spring out of them. He looked up at Tsume, his eyes glowing amber like Tsume’s. “Go!” he snarled.

Tsume, not used to running, decided now was not the time to argue. This was one of those things that simply happened and he could not ask questions about. From the moment the door was closed, however, he regretted the move. He heard the sound of snarls, growls, and howls. He heard the sound of breaking glass, of smashing wood, and of tearing cloth. After one scream that ended in the most pitiful howl he had ever heard, a soft whine drifted through the door. Tsume flung it open to see a shaggy but handsome wolf standing before him.

Moony walked forward and nuzzled Tsume affectionately, and Tsume returned the sentiment with nuzzles of his own. The gray wolf circled him, as though incredibly perplexed but pleased with what it saw. It licked at a small cut that bled on his side, and then again at one on his hind leg. Then, with a grin as only a wolf can have, licked his rump. Moony yelped, jumping, but grinning wolfishly in return.

Then Moony sprang up and crashed against the door. It only took two punches for the wood and handle to part ways, and Moony found himself bounding through the snow-covered valley as playfully as a wolf cub. Tsume followed, looking renewed at Moony’s energy. It ran and leapt with him, sometimes rolling with him on the ground and play biting, other times heading him off just before a landing and having Remus snarl at him in fun.

When they reached the top of the ridge, they both stopped, looking up at the full moon. It hung low in the sky yet, but still held all the magical energy they could both sense running through their veins. Moony sat down first, eyes fixed on the silvery-white orb. He lifted his nose to the air, took a deep breath, and began to howl. Tsume joined in at once, wagging his tail as he sat close to Moony for warmth. They howled in unison, and also alone as the other stopped to take a deep breath. They howled so that every bit of them from their tail to their nose shook with emotion, with desire. They howled for their dead, for their lost lives. They howled for their grief and the pain in their lives. And they howled for their packs, one lost forever, the other not yet discovered.

Moony howled until he had almost lost his voice, and Tsume howled until he could no longer take the waiting. For when they finished howling, they made love again. It was as rough and instinctual as their very first time, but filled with the emotion that came from their many nights in bed together since then. When they were done with one round of sex, they would start again, taking each other over and over as the bright winter solstice moon slowly rose to the top of the sky. And for once, the thought of Padfoot did not enter Moony’s mind.