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 III
by

Remus might make excuses, later, about how he ended up fucking a prisoner half his age in a situation that was neither politically nor morally correct--but right now there was only hunger, with Malfoy's cock pressed against his thigh, and Malfoy's throat, at last, at long last, bared and at the mercy of his mouth. He might remember, later, the hurried undoing of his robes, Malfoy's fevered gasp when he finally caught and stroked the boy's prick--his own quick spell to bind Malfoy's wrists together, so that Malfoy wouldn't be able to steal his wand.

Prey, helpless, mine, helpless was all Remus' mind seemed to be able to think--and there was no dose of Wolfsbane to calm him down, nothing until the Order got here. All he knew was the roar of Malfoy's pulse, unnaturally loud in his wolf-sharpened ears, the jumping of Malfoy's prick, unnaturally hot against Remus' over-sensitive palm. Malfoy was making strange, hurt noises--like those of a wounded animal--but they only made Remus throw him against the wall and haul his thighs up so that Malfoy's legs wrapped around his waist, Malfoy's cock pressing into his own.

The boy had nothing to support himself with, since his hands were bound--but Remus saw them scrabble behind Malfoy's back anyway, desperate for some purchase on the cut-stone wall.

Remus might remember, later, the taste of tears on Malfoy's face--the taste of fresh sweat, bruised skin--the cruel heat of Malfoy's body as it pushed around him, making way for him, fighting him, milking him even as Malfoy bucked, choked sounds of pain drowning in Remus' mouth, his cock coating Remus' hand with spunk.

Remus might remember how clumsy it was, how ugly it was, with Malfoy's beautiful body sagging against his own--Malfoy's smooth skin within his scarred arms, Malfoy's smooth face pressed against his rougher one--panting, tear-stained, hot.

Remus might remember all these things, but the thing he'd remember most of all was what Malfoy had said afterwards, while the thick air still stank of come.

'I hate you,' he'd whispered, tenderly, almost lovingly, in Remus' ear. And then, face strained with pain and exhaustion, he'd lowered his legs from around Remus' waist and had stumbled, wincing, out into the main room. A thin trail of blood marked his inner thighs, revolting and drawing Remus in equal measure--and Malfoy sat down on his pallet awkwardly, since his wrists were still bound.

The hut echoed with silence.

The light from the Naphthal bulbs remained steady, indifferent--and Remus dressed himself with a sort of post-traumatic shock, senses dulled in the aftermath of his orgasm, body relaxed and almost painfully fulfilled.

Later that night, when Remus knelt beside the pallet and tried to heal Malfoy's wounds, using his wand to untie Malfoy's wrists, the boy only shook his head.

Malfoy's cock was soft, tender, bruised--but his eyes were fierce, desperate when he met Remus' gaze. 'Fuck me,' he'd whispered, arching up to meet Remus' mouth again.

* * *

The Order was supposed to arrive the following day, but it didn't--not that day, nor the day after that. Some lingering part of Remus' mind kept thinking that perhaps they'd forgotten about him, and what Malfoy had said was right--perhaps everyone was dead, everyone, and there was nothing left in this world but the werewolf and his Death Eater, trapped together in a cage of their own making.

The full moon was only three days away--and Remus could already feel it calling to him, just as the moon's pull called to the waves--his blood roiling with hunger and nausea, his face fever-hot with it. He told himself that he'd free Malfoy if the Order didn't arrive before the full moon--he'd have to, because while Malfoy was to be executed, Remus wouldn't be the one to do it. Not like that. Not as a wolf. No.

Things weren't awkward with Malfoy anymore, because they both knew what the other needed. Malfoy's eyes had become haunted, an odd twisting inevitability in them, as though he knew that he was either doomed to die by the wolf or by the Kiss. That haunted look never quite left him, not even when Remus was screwing him in long, hard, steady strokes--not even when he came, because he either closed his eyes or looked away, and Remus could never be sure what expression his eyes held then. Malfoy still insulted Remus with aplomb, of course, when they weren't fucking--but they almost always were, and Remus had grown to like Malfoy's newfound silence, punctuated with wordless cries and moans as it was. Remus always bound Malfoy's wrists before fucking him, because he didn't believe in taking chances--and he found a sick, swooping triumph in leaning down to whisper: 'This will get you nothing, you know. I'll still hand you over to them,' moments before Malfoy came, cursing and spitting wordless obscenities at him. It was only in the moments afterwards, with Malfoy limp and panting, tears leaking out of his eyes, that Remus felt he'd obtained any kind of revenge. For what Malfoy had done to him. For the I hate you, soft as a feather, that Malfoy had whispered in his ear.

* * *

On the sixth day--just when Remus was dressing after waking up, the wards around the main door glimmered.

'Lupin!' Malfoy shouted--and Remus was running before he knew it, wand drawn and pointed at the door, throwing himself in front of Malfoy's body.

The door swung open--and there, in a crowd of red, brown and grey--different colors for different ranks of the Order--stood a group of fully-armed Aurors.

Relief shot through Remus like an arrow, and he felt his knees buckling.

'Steady on, lad!' called a deep voice--and Foultin, half-giant and senior Auror of North Point, reached down to haul Remus up.

A murmur of voices began immediately, everyone chattering excitedly. A dark shape cut a snarling path through the tumult, materializing in front of Remus in a whirl of pitch-black robes. Remus found himself looking into a pair of glittering dark eyes.

'Lupin,' said Snape's voice. Oh, Merlin, Snape's voice...

'The others,' Remus found himself gasping. 'Tonks. Shacklebolt...'

Snape's face spasmed--for a moment, Remus would almost have believed that the cruel face showed pain--but then Snape was saying, calmly, 'They died, Lupin. At South Point.'

So what Malfoy had said was right. Remus' knees buckled again, in some perverse mixture of grief at his colleagues' death and joy at being found--but Snape's arm lashed out to catch him, just as Snape's eyes looked behind him, found Malfoy, and froze.

'What.' Snape stopped. 'What is he. Lupin. That's Draco Malfoy.'

Remus laughed--a strange, scratching laugh, because the shock in Snape's voice was so funny. 'Indeed it is, Severus.' The entire group seemed to have fallen silent at this announcement--and Malfoy himself was quiet. Remus could feel the fear from him in waves. 'Everyone, Draco Malfoy. Draco Malfoy, everyone.'

Snape's eyes narrowed. 'What is the meaning of this--'

'A prisoner of war,' Remus said. 'For your interrogation--the only Death Eater who survived South Point, am I right?'

The murmur started up again. Foultin, who was looking considering, boomed: 'Silence!' He nodded to Remus to continue.

'I was headed here--as instructed--when I ran into him.' Remus gestured with his wand. 'It was a lucky capture. I would have killed him were the hut not so close.'

'Interrogation,' Foultin said, his small eyes glinting with eagerness. 'Perfect, Lupin. We still have to clarify the identities of the Death Eaters who went missing from the North--I'm sure Mister Malfoy here will be most helpful.'

Malfoy hissed; then fell silent when Remus glanced back to meet his eyes.

The small crowd of Aurors erupted into cheers--but Remus, who was too fucking tired and, for some strange reason, suddenly angry with all of them--didn't smile at all.

Snape's eyes were darting back and forth between him and Malfoy, something a lot like suspicion flickering in them--but then Remus clasped his arm, drawing Snape's attention back to himself, and said: 'Sorry to trouble you for this, Severus. But...'

'Your Wolfsbane. Yes.' Snape shook his head as if to clear it, and extracted a small vial from the pocket of his robes--its clink reminding Remus rather forcefully of Malfoy's own robes, when they'd...

'Lupin.'

Remus started. Snape was looking at him again, in that cutting, incisive way he had--and Remus reached out for the vial, managing to keep his face--and mind--blank. 'Thank you,' he said carefully, and heard Malfoy step closer to him, as if for protection.

'You're welcome,' Snape said, equally carefully, relinquishing the vial. 'I take it you have no objections to our interrogating Malfoy now?'

What sort of question was that? 'No,' Remus said blandly, feeling Malfoy tense up behind him. 'Of course not. He's all yours, Foultin,' he said to the leader, who grinned widely and gestured two younger Aurors forward.

'That won't be necessary,' Snape said, stepping forward himself. 'I will bind him.'

Remus met Snape's eyes in surprise--but Snape said nothing, merely pointing his wand at Malfoy and binding him even more surely than Remus had bound him before.

Nevertheless, Malfoy tried to spit and struggle as he was pushed out by the junior Aurors--his eyes were wide and terrified, and he reminded Remus much more of the boy he'd discovered on that first night, trembling and unwilling prey.

'If no one vouches for him,' Snape said quietly, suddenly quite close to Remus' ear, 'he will be Kissed. Only about a week hence, after his interrogation.'

Remus felt his neck prickle with something a lot like fear. 'It is none of my concern.'

'Isn't it?' Snape murmured cryptically. 'It was rather fascinating, the position you had taken when we entered the hut. You were in front of Malfoy, you realize.'

Remus glanced away.

'Protecting him.'

'It is none of my concern,' Remus growled, ignoring the twist of poison in his gut.

But Malfoy wasn't going easily--struggling like a worm within his bindings, mouth spewing obscenities and hexes that fell unrealized to the ground. Every bit the spoilt brat everyone had always thought Malfoy was, frightened and petty and hateful. Finally, just as Foultin's heavy hand closed on his shoulder, Malfoy's eyes darted back to Remus, wild and wide and pale.

'Lupin!' He shouted. But Snape had stepped away, out of the door, wishing Remus a safe recovery from the full moon, recommending that he stay in the hut for a few more days, build up his strength... They'd be here to pick him up after Malfoy's execution...

'Lupin!' Malfoy shouted again. The Aurors who were levitating his bound body off the ground struggled as Malfoy fought against their spell.

'Remus!' Malfoy screamed, finally, voice breaking, and Remus made the mistake of looking back at him.

All of a sudden it crashed down on him--what was going to happen--that his prey, this young thing that he had broken and mended and used night after night after night, was finally going to be destroyed. Enemy, his mind tried to tell him, traitor--but all Remus could remember, in that split instant, was the taste of Malfoy's skin--the sound of his sobs before he came--the hate in his eyes when he did, glittering and angry and alive.

He found himself stepping forward, suddenly, and slashing his wand downwards so that the Aurors' levitation spells failed, sending Malfoy crashing to the ground. Snape appeared from behind them just in time, scooping him up, as Malfoy gaped at Remus with shocked, dilated eyes.

'I will vouch for him,' Remus heard his own voice saying, and the entire group froze in response.

Foultin's hand still hovered in mid-air, where Malfoy's shoulder had been. His mouth had fallen open.

'Remus,' Foultin said. 'Are you sure... you... want to vouch for him? Are you sure he can be trusted?'

No. If there was one thing Remus was sure of, it was that Malfoy could not be trusted at all. 'I am sure.'

An echoing silence seemed to have fallen over the clearing. Everyone looked exhausted, Remus realized, bedraggled and dirty in the early morning light--and they had all come here for him, because he had been waiting for them... ah. Because he had their information.

'I'll send my report along with Severus,' he said finally. 'Keep Malfoy in custody until after the full moon--until after I have recovered.'

Foultin still seemed to be having problems coping with this. 'You mean. You're. Officially vouching for him.'

Remus sighed. And pocketed his wand. Merlin, his fingers ached after holding on to it relentlessly for so many days. 'Yes. With all of you as my witnesses.'

Slowly, Foultin nodded. 'Very well.' He didn't look at Snape, who was the last Death Eater a member of the Order had vouched for--it wouldn't have been tactful, after all--but Snape tensed nonetheless.

Foultin whistled so that the Aurors gathered around him, trudging in a slow group towards the edge of the clearing, where they'd apparently set up a tree stump as a new portkey. Malfoy's binds were loosened, but not undone--and as he looked back at Remus, one last time, his face was ashen with relief. Remus didn't show any expression at all--but somewhere, in Malfoy's pale eyes, there glimmered a spark of triumph.

'You fool,' said a quiet voice by Remus' shoulder as the group disappeared.

Remus turned to look at Snape--who was still staring at where the Aurors had been standing, now nothing but a circle of crushed leaves.

'I suppose you'll give me your report now,' Snape continued, voice still sharp with disdain. 'I need to know nothing, Lupin. I can see it all in the way you behave.'

Remus was tempted to say: 'Albus vouched for you,' but he didn't, and Snape answered anyway.

'Malfoy still believes what he was taught all his life. He won't harm you, since he owes you a life debt--but the rest of us are fair game.' Snape glanced at him, a quick slice of a black gaze that cut Remus to the quick. 'He is a high risk investment, Lupin. I hope you know what you're doing.'

I don't. 'You'll watch over him,' he said instead.

Snape snorted in disgust. 'Of course I will. He was my ward as a student. Now, thanks to your stupidity, he is under my protection again.'

'He'll go back to Voldemort, won't he.'

Snape plucked at his sleeve. 'Most likely.' He glowered. 'Just as you will keep silent whenever he comes to visit you.'

'What?' Remus started. 'Wh--'

'Oh, be quiet, Lupin.' Snape pulled his cloak tighter around him in the early-morning chill, which Remus himself was beginning to feel. 'Your prisoner of war will go back to his side. You will come back to ours. Nothing will have changed.'

Except everything, Remus thought.

'The woods have been cleared of Death Eaters, all the way from North Point to the South. It's safe for you to venture out now, when you wish, although I suggest you remain inside the hut for the transformation.' Snape's voice was curt again, professional, only slightly marked with disdain. 'I will make up your report for you. The Minister will be pleased.'

Remus, still reeling with the implications of Snape's previous words, pulled himself up to say: Thank you, but by then Snape had already strode across to the broken tree-stump, placed his hand on it, and disappeared.

The clearing was empty again.

Sunlight filtered through the trees like smoke, pale and golden and luminous, flooding Remus' mouth with the taste of dawn. Dew. Fresh. Wet. The wind rustled gently as Remus made his way back into the hut--but all he could hear, for a moment, was a soft, desperate voice. I hate you, said Malfoy's whisper in his ear. Remus, as he opened the door and felt the wards shiver to let him through, replied: So do I.

* SERIES COMPLETE *

* 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.