Disclaimer: All characters from the Harry Potter universe belong to J.K. Rowling, Bloomsbury Publishing, Scholastic Inc., AOL/Time Warner and associated companies. No offence, legal or otherwise, is intended by the online publication of this story. Neither is profit. Make love, not lawsuits!

Notes: Written for Isis, who asked for Remus/Draco. The quote that spawned the bunny: 'Trust not yourself; but your defects to know, / Make use of ev'ry friend--and ev'ry foe.' - Alexander Pope, 'Essay of Criticism' [l.214]

Shelter the Foe
PART II
by

When Remus woke up it was to the same dim light he'd fallen asleep in--the Naphthals* never changed their glow, and he couldn't even be sure it was morning until he cast a quick Tempus dictum. Three hours after sunrise. Good. His bones still ached after yesterday's fighting--with Malfoy and the other Death Eaters--and his split lip, which he'd healed last night, still throbbed. But he no longer felt hyper-aware and tense, the adrenaline of the battle having left him through the night.

He got up groggily, mouth sour and jaw oily-rough with stubble, only to see Malfoy staring at him--silently--from his pallet. Remus felt unnerved, but didn't let on. He walked somewhat unsteadily to the inner room--the room he'd gotten their pallets from--negotiating the racks and drawers to reach the basin and toilet at the back. It was only after taking a piss, casting a mild Excorio on his stubble and taking a quick dip in the self-filling tub that he felt calm enough--and clean enough--to face Draco Malfoy.

He was still somewhat tired, and yawned 'Libero' at Malfoy's pallet as he came out. The invisible ties that had been binding Malfoy to his pallet immediately disappeared, and Malfoy sat up slowly, scowling and rubbing his arms.

'Will you bind me every time?'

Remus looked at him blandly. 'Of course. Can't have you stealing my wand in the middle of the night and deciding to Imperio your way out of here, can we?'

A flicker of Malfoy's eyes said that yes, Malfoy had been hoping for an opportunity of that sort. Instead of looking disappointed, he snapped: 'Is there a decent place in this hell-hole to perform one's ablutions?'

Remus raised his eyebrows. 'If you mean a place to urinate, then yes, this way.' He gestured towards the inner room, and followed when Malfoy made a move to go inside.

'What are you doing?' Malfoy hissed in dismay.

'Following you.'

'While I...?'

'Yes, while you.' Remus cocked his head. 'There are supplies in the back room. I would rather you didn't do anything untoward with them. Such as hang yourself. Or find a way to hang me.'

Malfoy's eyes narrowed, face shifting into that calm and calculating mask again. 'I see,' was all he said as he stepped inside, Remus following him with his wand drawn.

With a strength of willpower that Remus was sure he'd never had before, he kept his eyes fixed on Malfoy's face throughout--feeling a strange, embarrassed heat flood him at the sound of Malfoy's urine hitting the pot. He'd seen other men do this before, of course, but he'd never watched... He expected Malfoy to blush, as he'd done last night, but Malfoy kept his eyes ahead of him and his face blank, as though he wasn't here, as though this wasn't happening to him.

When Malfoy began to tie his robes again, Remus allowed himself to breathe an inner sigh of relief. His face seemed to be flushed even though Malfoy's was not. 'Wash your hands,' he commanded tersely, and Malfoy did, also using the basin to splash his face and neck. Water darkened his hair into tight curls around his face, trickling down to disappear into Malfoy's robe.

Remus was starting to get rather fed up with this.

'What's for breakfast?' Malfoy asked immediately, in the same imperious tone he might have used on a house-elf.

'Demanding little captive, aren't you.'

Malfoy only smirked. 'I'm not the one who chose me as a prisoner.'

'Would you rather I'd chosen the other option?'

Malfoy's smirk faded a bit. 'Of course not.'

'Well then.'

Feeling as though he'd won a minor victory, and feeling even more annoyed with himself for such pettiness, he pointed Malfoy back out of the storeroom. The boy settled gingerly on his pallet, as though expecting the ties to leap up and bind him again. They didn't, of course.

Remus opened the third cupboard in the store-room--ah, the same one as last time--and took out a plate of food.

He levitated it to Malfoy's pallet, removing the Conservo charm before he did so. Immediately the air-tight bubble around the food vanished, and the aroma of cold meats and fresh apples filled the air.

Malfoy looked as though he were trying very hard not to drool. 'Clever system you have here,' he said instead, fingers twitching with barely suppressed eagerness.

It was only when Remus came out into the main room as well, carrying his own plate, that Malfoy picked up his apple.

'Yes.' Remus half-watched as Malfoy began to systematically whittle the unfortunate apple down to a stump. 'All the food stored here is conserved.'

'For emergencies.'

Remus didn't answer.

Malfoy paused--his eyes sharp and clear again, and Remus realized that the shock of last night had obviously faded from Malfoy's system, and he'd obviously had many hours to think about his situation. 'This is a... hideout. For the Order. Isn't it.'

Remus remembered Harry's Muggle term for it. Bunker? Yes. He answered: 'Of a sort.'

'Or a rendezvous point,' Malfoy continued. 'That's why you said your friends were coming here. Do you come here to regroup after each battle? To exchange information? Heal the wounded?' His eyes darted quickly to the back room. 'You have enough mattresses in there to suit a small army. Medical supplies. Food.' He glanced back at Remus again. 'Isn't that right?'

'You may infer what you will,' Remus said calmly.

Malfoy didn't seem fazed. 'Such a tight-lipped wolf. Really.' He took one last bite of his apple, tossing the core back onto the plate. 'After all, why not have a friendly conversation with the hapless Death Eater? I'm going to be Kissed anyway, aren't I?'

There was something peculiar in Malfoy's voice when he said that--not bitterness at all, but a sort of light, desperate humour that caught Remus' attention immediately. Malfoy wasn't looking at him; he was picking up his cold beef sandwich instead. 'Clever system indeed,' Malfoy muttered again. 'Wards around it. Couldn't get in. Followed...' He stopped.

Remus was fully awake now. This he had to hear. 'Followed?' He prompted.

Malfoy shot him a sly glance from under his lashes--and Remus suddenly realized that the desperation had been a wonderful set-up.

'I'll tell you what I was doing here if you tell me what you were doing here.'

Remus snorted. 'I'd like to remind you, Malfoy, of just who has the wand here.'

Malfoy abandoned his sandwich and leaned back on his elbows--his position causing the loose grey robe to slip down his shoulder, baring a triangle of pale, almost unnaturally flawless skin. 'Indeed,' he said lazily.

The little trollop. Perhaps binding Malfoy again wouldn't be such a bad idea. --A flurry of unwelcome images flooded Remus' mind. No. That's worse, Lupin. You're letting him play you like a harp. 'I could simply torture you for the answers I want,' he said instead.

Malfoy didn't even look perturbed. 'Torture is old school to me, wolf.' He seemed pleased with the way Remus almost-flinched whenever he said that. 'And you aren't equipped for it.'

The nerve of the boy. 'Oh?'

'Oh.' Malfoy sneered. 'You said so yourself. Remember? You can't interrogate a prisoner without a medical team on hand--unless you want said prisoner to keep passing out.' A strange expression flickered across his face, and Remus had the distinct feeling that Malfoy had had personal experience with this. 'Or die.'

'Perhaps said prisoner's life isn't so valuable.'

'I beg to differ.' Malfoy was drawling again--a silk-smooth voice that grated on Remus more than Hagrid's accent ever did. 'You have me as prisoner, yes. You will kill me if I try to escape, yes. But you won't do so unless you have to.' For an instant, it almost seemed as though Malfoy would smile. 'You wouldn't waste the intelligence.'

The urge to strangle the boy was overwhelming. 'We'll see about that.'

'Hmm.' Malfoy had tilted his head backwards to stare idly at the ceiling--and Remus was struck by the difference--this was what Draco Malfoy looked like when given enough time to build his guard. Last night he'd seen Malfoy unarmed. True, Malfoy still didn't have his wand, but he was hardly a blubbering, terrified wretch of a prisoner either.

If Remus didn't know better, he'd think that Malfoy had a plan.

But that was preposterous.

* * *

'Where're your friends coming from?'

Remus glanced back at him. 'Pardon?'

'Your friends. You didn't come from this battle, did you? The direction was wrong. You came from North Point.'

Remus stiffened; then relaxed. There was no harm in this information. 'Yes. North Point.'

'How come others from there didn't follow you?'

'I was the only one chosen to come here. Regroup with with those from the South.'

'Supply tactical information.'

Well, yes. Remus didn't bother confirming the obvious.

'You must be tired.' Malfoy's eyes had that strange, speculative gleam in them again. 'You must have travelled for days on foot, since you can't Apparate here...'

'You, on the other hand, must have got here in only an hour.'

Malfoy smirked. 'South Point is a lot closer. You could almost hear the battle from here, couldn't you?'

Remus remembered last night, stumbling, afraid. 'Yes.' Then: 'What were you doing here?'

'There was no one left.'

A strange pit of cold gathered in Remus' stomach. 'What do you mean?'

'There was no one left, Lupin. Not from my side. Not from yours.'

Remus seemed to have frozen. 'No.'

'Yes.' Malfoy looked as though he would have sneered, but his face appeared to be struggling with it. 'There's no one coming to meet you here, Lupin. No one from my army. No one from yours.'

'I don't believe you.'

'Have you a handy dose of Veritaserum in there?' Malfoy jerked his head towards the storage room. 'Test me if you wish.'

'No.'

'No, you don't have the serum, or no, you don't want the truth?'

Remus grit his teeth. 'They... I... will meet. Tonks. Shacklebolt. We're supposed to meet here in two days' time.'

Malfoy let out a thin, spiteful laugh. 'They're not meeting you, Lupin. They are--what is that phrase you Muggle-lovers use?--meeting their maker.'

Suddenly Remus found his fists clenched in Malfoy's collar, jerking him forward, glaring into his eyes. 'Don't tell me lies, Malfoy. You'll live to regret it.'

'At least I'll live.' Malfoy wrenched away, eyes glittering. 'You're not the only one who lost family, you know. I... I lost.' Malfoy's voice was almost-shaking, but Remus didn't know whether to believe it or to think that it was a performance. 'There was no one left. Well. Apart from me. Perhaps others escaped--it is a possibility.'

'That's why you followed me, isn't it?' Realization dawned on Remus' face. 'You followed me because you thought... you thought that I...'

'Might be one of my own. Survived.'

'And if I wasn't?'

'I'd have killed you, of course. Just like your kind killed my family.'

'We never murder in cold blood, Malfoy,' Lupin growled. 'It was self-defence.'

'Oh,' Malfoy drawled, exaggerating the syllable. His face was tight with hatred. 'Of course the saintly Order doesn't murder people in cold blood. I see. What exactly would you call Crabbe's death, then? Zabini's torture?'

Remus felt his breath freeze. 'Tactical manoeuvres.'

'Tactical manoeuvres.' Malfoy spat. 'Oh, yes. Not cold-blooded at all.'

Remus' fists clenched. 'I don't have to justify myself or my army to you, Malfoy. You're a prisoner of war, if you recall.'

Malfoy, who'd looked as if he were on the edge of bursting before, suddenly cooled down at that. The hatred on his face was wiped clean, and Remus felt unnerved at how much like a mask it looked--expressionless, finely carved, white. 'Yes,' he said coldly. 'I'm a prisoner of war.' A strange, not-there smile curved his lips. 'All alone with my captor, in the middle of nowhere, with no one coming to meet us. Your army gone. My army gone. And we're all bone.' He let out a short bark of laughter, hysterical, before he fell into silence again.

Remus said nothing.

Malfoy, who'd moved his pallet back earlier, leaned his head against the wall. 'This is a joke,' he said faintly. 'A joke. You do realize how futile this is, Lupin?'

Remus noted how fragile Malfoy suddenly looked, throat pale, collarbones ridiculously delicate in the parted valley of his robes. 'If you're trying to get me to let my guard down, Malfoy, you're mistaken.'

The boy didn't even look up at him. 'Don't be a fool. Even if I fought you for your wand... If you bite me, I might as well be dead.' His face flickered in disgust. 'I'd rather be dead than a monster.'

Remus didn't flinch at that. Of course he didn't. 'Even if what you say about South Point is true,' he said eventually, 'people from the North will come here. For me. I can't abandon my position.'

'And then I'll be Kissed.' Malfoy's tone was brittle.

'You will.'

There was a silence.

'I think,' said Malfoy a long while later, glancing at the back room, 'that I'd like a bath.'

* * *

The first day of waiting came and went. Remus got used to it, in a sense, the claustrophobia of being cooped up in here--it wasn't so different from the nights he'd spent at the Shack, recovering after his transformations. The only difference was that now he had a Malfoy for company--although 'company' was a dubious word. Malfoy seemed incapable of forming sentences that didn't involve insults of some sort, and he didn't seem willing, anymore, to talk about his eventual Kiss.

It was... odd... to live in such close quarters with someone again. Remus had always been solitary, except for the two years he'd had with Sirius before the Veil--and it was difficult to get used to another body's scent again, another body's warmth in the same room as him. At night he could hear Malfoy breathing, quiet and steady, and he found himself staying awake just to listen to it--not that he was fond of Malfoy, of course--but it was such a novelty to have another human being around him.

To make matters worse, Malfoy seemed to have lost any of the modesty he had appeared to possess in the beginning. He almost seemed to be deliberately displaying himself whenever he got the opportunity--but that was ridiculous, of course, and surely it was only Remus' own hunger speaking.

It had to be.

The first time he watched Malfoy bathe, Malfoy was almost perfunctory about it--stripping down to his smooth, bone-white body, avoiding Remus' gaze. He slipped into the self-filling tub quietly, requesting the wash-cloth from Remus in a tone that was almost polite. Remus watched, because he had no other choice, as Malfoy slipped the cloth up the sleek lines of his chest and down his abdomen, into the musk-rich hollows of his armpits--Remus' nose twitched at the scent as Malfoy's arms were raised--and then down his back again, slivers of silver-smooth water, Malfoy's pale hair darkening to a deeper gold, his eyelashes clumping together.

Malfoy was beautiful. There was no doubt about it--and there, in the silence punctuated only by the gentle splash of water, Remus felt his breath gather and release with increasing difficulty. He had to pace his pulse, his heart, his arousal--and Malfoy, who seemed to be nothing but a moving statue, a body made to be touched, simply finished his bath and stood up.

He was sleek as a fish, glittering with droplets of water--and his vulnerability in this state called to the feral in Remus--the soft arch of Malfoy's throat bared, as if in submission, begging to be...

Malfoy caught his gaze and Remus started guiltily--he knew that his eyes were half-glowing again, but Malfoy no longer seemed terrified.

'The towel,' Malfoy requested calmly, and Remus handed it over; watching the trail of water down Malfoy's chest with something resembling desperation. His heart nearly froze up in shock when he saw, among the damp blond curls at Malfoy's crotch, Malfoy's slender cock rising slowly--only half-hard, and quite a normal reaction in a young man to the touch of a towel, but Remus still found himself hardening in response.

Malfoy's eyes were a light, steel grey, and they bore into Remus as he handed the towel back. He didn't put on his robe, as Remus expected--but stood there, skin damp and giving off a scent that mingled heat and moisture, a scent that made Remus salivate.

'You want to fuck me, don't you.' Suddenly. Those words, spoken quietly in Malfoy's too-young, too-determined voice, sent a frittering shock through Remus' nerves.

There it was.

The statement. The thing he had been waiting for since that first night, when he'd seen Malfoy's eyes clear with certainty.

It seemed unreal to Remus, who still couldn't get over the shock of seeing Malfoy standing in front of him, naked and half-hard, saying that to him. Just saying...

Remus considered saying No, I don't, but he knew that the lie would be obvious--and he couldn't say Yes, so instead he said, in a voice that was far too hoarse for his liking, 'Put on your robes.'

Malfoy dressed in silence, his stance relaxed--and they made their way back to the main room, Remus still pointing his wand at Malfoy until the boy settled on his pallet, on his back, at which point Remus muttered 'Constringo' again.

And then Malfoy was suddenly stiff against the mattress, unable to move accept for slight adjustments, and Remus knew that he'd been bound.

Strange that the wolf had to guard against his prey.

Malfoy's eyes followed him as he lay down on his own pallet. They were no longer calculating but simply observant, as though Malfoy knew that he had Remus where he wanted him.

Round one.

Malfoy was the victor.

* * *

Watching Malfoy all the time was maddening. The second day passed much as the first had done--with Remus waking up, attending to his ablutions, as Malfoy called them, before freeing Malfoy from his bonds to do the same. They ate exactly the same breakfast as the one they'd had the day before--after all, the reserve supplies weren't meant to be luxurious in their variety--and Malfoy, predictably, whinged and whined about it.

Remus dreaded Malfoy's bath in a way that made him doubt his sanity--after all, was he not the one with the wand here? What did he have to be intimidated by--a child's unskilled seduction? What did Malfoy hope to gain from this anyway?

If he'd only known what he was getting himself in for, choosing the brat as a prisoner...

Round two.

Malfoy stripped quickly, as he always did, and slipped into the water. Remus stood guard, pulse jumping rather more irregularly than should have been warranted by the situation, as Malfoy took up the wash-cloth again.

'Have you any soap?' Malfoy's cool voice asked.

'No,' Remus replied. 'The cloth itself contains a cleaning agent.'

Malfoy didn't answer, but leaned his head back, closed his eyes, and ran the wash-cloth down his chest.

Remus found himself unable to move. He noticed, with a sort of strange, panicky distance, that Malfoy's cock had hardened at the brush of the wash-cloth--but Malfoy's hand didn't move away as he'd have expected it to. Instead it curled around the flushed penis, sliding slowly up and down, circling around the tip.

Quite suddenly, Remus was hard--completely, achingly--and he felt his heart thud almost painfully. 'What are you doing?' His voice sounded broken to his own ears.

Those pale eyes opened slightly, languorous and slit like a cat's. 'Bathing,' said Malfoy in a slightly breathless voice.

'Yes,' Remus agreed mindlessly, before he caught himself. 'Stop that,' he snapped, and Malfoy's lips curled in a sneer.

'Why? You seem to be enjoying it.' Malfoy was hard now, as hard as Remus was, his face sly as he tilted it towards Remus.

Remus quite abruptly changed his mind about Malfoy's seductive powers being unskilled. 'Get out of the tub.'

'I thought you'd never ask.'

'No!' Remus' voice caught in his throat. 'I didn't mean--get out of there--get dressed--stop that, damn it!'

But Malfoy didn't stop, legs parting even further in the water, which sloshed against the sides of the tub in a rhythm matching the stroke of his hand. 'You don't seem to be in control anymore, my jailor, sir.'

Remus pointed his wand at Malfoy with shaking hands. 'I could bind you.'

'What, me? Naked and bound? Think you'd be able to keep your hands off me, Professor?'

This was not the time--fuck this--no. No. 'Get out of the tub,' he repeated, feeling sick with guilt and with a fear he could not name. 'What do you think you'll get out of this? Why lower yourself to getting fucked by a... werewolf?'

'I'll get out of this whatever you're willing to give me, Lupin,' Malfoy said lightly; but in his masked face Remus suddenly saw the answer--writ plain as day.

'You.' Remus managed to say. Words failed him. 'You're doing this because of the Kiss, aren't you?'

Malfoy didn't say anything; but his hand tightened almost cruelly around his cock.

'All Death Eaters are executed unless they have someone to vouch for them. Snape had Albus.' Remus paused. 'You want me to vouch for you, don't you?'

Malfoy continued to stroke--but in the air, mingled with the heat of arousal, Remus detected the sharp tang of fear. 'Let's just say,' said Malfoy after a while, 'that Gryffindors aren't very likely to hand their lovers over to the chopping block.'

A snarl formed in Remus' throat, but didn't make it out. 'I see.' He felt a wave of hatred for Malfoy then, intense as he hadn't felt in years. 'So you'll whore yourself out for your life, is that it? Slytherin honor indeed.'

Water splashed as Malfoy suddenly stood up, eyes narrow with rage, cock still hard and glistening. 'Fuck you, Lupin. Get off your fucking high horse. You're the one who wants me. I'm just taking tactical advantage of it.'

Tactical manoeuvres. Remus remembered his own words. 'I won't take you up on your offer.'

'Won't you?' Malfoy stepped out of the tub, wet feet slapping the floor, and stood so that he was less than an arm's length from Remus. He looked pale with fear and anger, dangerous, desperate, beautiful. His erection hadn't faded at all, and jutted out of his body as though calling to Remus, demanding to be touched. The scent of pre-come wafted upwards, salty and bitter.

'I won't,' Remus' voice said. But his hands trembled. The air in this little room, wet and warm and hungry, was making his blood burn.

Malfoy's eyes were dark, with lust or terror, Remus couldn't tell. It was an impersonal sort of lust, as though Remus could be anyone, anything, but Malfoy needed him to make his escape, and that was all that mattered. Remus wondered who the real whore was.

The boy stepped closer, not even bothering to reach for Remus' wand, which was gripped tightly in still-shaking hands. The heat from his body assaulted Remus' senses like a wave--hot skin warm wet hot musk sweat--and he felt his lips pull back in a snarl beyond his control, canines suddenly hungry for the give of flesh. Oh, Merlin. Only days before the full moon.

'I could hurt you,' he said, but Malfoy drew even closer. 'I will hurt you,' he said, but Malfoy didn't stop. 'I won't save your life,' he said finally, helplessly, before Malfoy's mouth brushed his own.

'Then don't,' Malfoy whispered, his breath a hot brush against Remus' skin. His hand reached upwards, carefully, as though Remus might bite--and settled against Remus' face. 'But I must try.'

* A wizarding light-bulb, consisting of a tube of glass around a bud of the ever-blooming Naphthal plant. This plant has phosphorent qualities and gives off a golden-orange glow. It needs to be replaced approximately every six months, as it starts to age and loose its shine. My own invention, so don't bother looking for it in canon. Some of the spells, such as Aboleo (Latin for 'to destroy, abolish or obliterate'), Conservo ('to preserve'), Excorio ('to shave') and Tempus dictum (literally 'tell the time') are also my own. Tell me if I'm using the Latin incorrectly!

If you're wondering what the North and South Points are, I figured that the war between the Death Eaters and the Order would, like any other war, be fought at multiple fronts. Remus has just been heading over from the North front, and Malfoy has been coming from the front to the South. They both collided in the middle, in this hut of the Order's making. The hut is, obviously, a rendezvous point for fighters of the Order.