Dogs and Cats
Wolves and Caracals
by Black Onyx Angel firstname.lastname@example.org
beta’d by Kristofer email@example.com
A/N: Just odd... I guess... I don’t even know if this makes sense... and I’m pretty sure Sev is OoC... Remy too...
Warnings: SLASH(well, duh!) There’s some kissing... not much else really...
Challenge: 84) One of the worst things about having Sirius gone is that there's no one to stay with Lupin when he transforms. But then, an animal starts to join him during the full moon. They quickly bond. Lupin is convinced it is an Animagus, and is determined to find his real identity.
I hate transformations. Especially now that Sirius is gone. He used to be here for me, keep me company. Even with the Wolfsbane Potion, the transformation is an overwhelming burden.
They get worse every time. I’m slowly losing my mind. I miss my school days when Padfoot, Prongs, and Wormtail would join me and we’d roam around the forest. Just a few short months ago, Padfoot was joining me again. God, how I miss them, him.
Here I go, transforming on the first full moon. I cry out, I know I do, it hurts so bad. It stops and now I’m stuck like this for three nights. By myself.
But, I’m not alone. I can hear movement, low to the ground. Well, lower to the ground than me. Much lower. Smaller too.
I stand about thirty inches from the ground. I’m nearly six feet nose to tail. I weigh one hundred and sixty seven pounds.
The animal I see sticking it’s head around the door, is much, much smaller than me, and a member of the feline family to boot.
The caracal stands about a foot and a half off the ground, is about thirty nine inches long (nose to tail), and can’t be over forty pounds. He’s a tawny brown, except for his ears and his left forearm. His ears are tipped in black, and the tufts hang like tassels, pure, shiny black. Almost greasy looking. His left forearm has a patch of black fur, no real shape to it, seemingly no meaning behind it.
I leap at the caracal, and it leaps straight up into the air. Six feet up, right on top of the dresser. Talk about spring-loaded. Small, but powerful.
Playful, too. It could have just stayed up on the dresser, and it would have been safe from me, but, no, it had to jump down and race out the door.
He’s already down the hall and around the corner before I’m out of the room. He’s fast.
I turn the corner and he’s waiting at the bottom of the steps. Halfway down, he’s off again.
It was like an endless game of tag. Him always running, teasing me by waiting somewhere, while I was always running, trying to catch him.
We played till exhaustion took over, then we slept. The next night I woke to him batting at my ears, I let out a growl and we were off again.
The third night was the same, only he left as the moon slipped low.
Four full moons have gone by like that, and I’m beginning to think my playmate might be animagus.
Ok, so I’ve thought that from the beginning, but, it’s really sinking in. He only shows up after the transformation has taken place, always leaves before it reverses. He never shows up in-between the full moons. Ever.
They have to be part of the Order, nobody else can get into this house, though Order members tend to stay away from this place during the three days of the full moon.
Two weeks till the next full moon, and I still do not know who the caracal is. I’ve asked, but nobody seems to know, except for Dumbledore, and the old coot isn’t talking.
God, it’s driving me insane. How can no one know who the caracal is?
The next full moon is tomorrow, and I still haven’t figured out who the caracal is. I have this niggling sensation in the back of my brain, like I should know who it is... but I can’t pull it forward.
Severus comes in, bringing the Wolfsbane potion with him, and that niggling little thought rushes up, and it clicks.
I never did ask him, and now...
His hair is pure, shiny black. So shiny it’s almost greasy. The grace of a feline. The Dark Mark on his left forearm. It makes perfect sense, up until I remember that the caracal is playful, and Severus Snape is anything but. Or, maybe he is, but only as a caracal, only when he’s with me.
What? I can dream, can’t I?
“Severus, do you happen to know who among the Order members are animagis?”
“McGonagall is the only one I’m aware of being a registered animagus.”
“Oh, thanks.” But wait... he said registered animagus... what if... “What about unregistered?”
His lips quirk ever so slightly, that I’m afraid I’m imagining it. “Drink the potion, Lupin.”
And I do, because I know. Or, I think I know.
Severus Snape is the mysterious caracal.
I hand the empty goblet to him. “Are you the caracal, Severus?”
“Lupin, you are out of your mind if you think I’ll admit to being your playmate.”
I smile. “But you don’t deny it. I never said the caracal was my playmate, either.”
His face is impassive, but I can almost hear the wheels turning in his head.
I give a feral smile and move between him and the door, and slowly head towards him. He backs up, slightly taken aback by the way I’m acting. I continue to approach him till his back hits the wall, then I’m there, pinning his arms to the wall and kissing him.
I pull back and smile at his confusion. “Tell me if you’re the caracal, or I’ll kiss you again.”
He raises his eyebrow as the confusion fades. “Then I think I shan’t say anything.”
I feel my eyes widen. “You want me to kiss you again?”
“Quite enjoyable, actually.”
I lean in, but stop as my lips barely brush his. “Tell me if you’re the caracal, or I won’t kiss you again.”
“That’s not fair.”
“You’re a Slytherin, what do you care about fair?”
“You’re a Gryffindor, when haven’t you?”
“Are you going to tell me or not,” I ask, my lips lightly brushing his.
“I’m the caracal.”
It was said so softly, I almost didn’t hear it, but I felt it.
I start to pull away, and Severus glared his Glare of Witherment (TM). “Lupin.”
It sounded like a growl, almost, and I chuckle, then proceed to bruise his lips.
“Albus, have you seen Severus or Remus lately?”
Dumbledore’s eyes just twinkle as he smiles at McGonagall.
A/N: Eh-hehehe... um, yeah...