What the Butler
Auror Saw
With a magical eye, Alastor
Moody frequently got to see things other people didn’t. And quite often, these were things he knew he
shouldn’t be seeing. Tonight was definitely no exception.
“Well, well, well,” Alastor
muttered to himself, as he looked across the public bar of the Green Dragon
with one eye, while the other looked upwards to a room in which transgressions
were currently occurring. Over the past
few weeks, he had wondered about the looks Mrs. Diggory
and Gilbert Whimple had been giving each other, and
now he had the proof. Here was yet
another illicit affair that had to be stamped out.
As far as Alastor
was concerned, affairs were bad news; there was far too much trust required
when it came to sex. If you couldn’t be
open about whom you were having sex with, then you were putting yourself and
others at risk. And in times when you
couldn’t be certain just whose side a person was on—whether they might just be with
you to spy on you—any relationship that wasn’t open needed to be stamped
out. Alastor
had made exposing these types of affairs one of his missions in life; it was
something he considered to be a matter of personal security. He had yet to come across a reason that
justified the risk of a secret relationship, and he firmly believed that if you
couldn’t face the world as a united front, then you had no business doing it in
the first place.
Losing his eye had been the turning point
for this “hobby” of his, and he had spent a lot of time putting a stop to the
plenitude of affairs that went on at the Ministry when he was still working
there as an Auror.
Now, he didn’t get involved as much, avoiding everyone he didn’t trust,
but he still stumbled across the occasional inappropriate union, which he
didn’t hesitate to expose.
His magical eye darted around the pub,
cataloguing all who were there: strangers, acquaintances, known enemies,
potential enemies. He spotted Remus and
Harry arriving by the Floo Network in the saloon bar,
which Giles had closed off for a couple of hours that evening to avoid them
being seen, and this caught Alastor slightly
off-guard, having forgotten they would be staying at the Green Dragon that
night. There was still no sign of Mundungus.
At that moment in time, Alastor
and Mundungus were supposed to be staging a meeting,
one that would be overheard by a suspected Death Eater, Eric Munch, who was
also in the bar that evening. If the idiot doesn’t turn up soon, Munch
will be gone, and it will be too late, Alastor grumbled
to himself. So, until Mundungus arrived, Alastor was
left to sit back and observe people, figure out who could be trusted.
Keeping his normal eye fixed rigidly on
Eric Munch, Alastor’s magical eye briefly turned
towards Harry and Remus once more. Now
they were upstairs, chatting with Giles in their room as they placed their
things on one side of the room.
Now
there are two people who could do with someone to trust, he thought absently as he continued to scan the rest of the bedrooms. Remus had never opened himself up to anyone,
as far as Alastor was aware. Not that anyone else noticed this about
Remus; the man had a knack of blending into the background. Would’ve
been good as an Auror, Alastor
mused, if the damn Ministry ever had the
sense to employ him. I don’t doubt that
the same trait would’ve made him a good Death Eater, too, but he’s got more sense than that.
And
as for Harry… well, someone needs to be keeping a closer eye on that one.
Alastor could see the potential for trouble brewing, all too well. An adolescent with the amount of things on
his plate such as what Harry had to go through, and now having lost Sirius, his
godfather… Alastor could see that it wouldn’t take
much more for Harry to go completely off the rails. The boy seemed like a time bomb waiting to go
off. But who could be there for the boy,
without it seeming like an obligation on their part?
Harry had Miss Granger and the young Weasley lad to confide in, but they were hardly able to
give him an adult perspective on things; they certainly didn’t have the
experience necessary to counsel him on his life. Then there was Albus
Dumbledore, but it was obvious to Alastor that Harry’s
trust in the man had been seriously damaged over the past year. Molly and Arthur would never turn the boy
away, but they had enough children of their own to cope with. Alastor was also
sceptical that Harry would be willing to talk to them about certain things;
after all, Harry had had direct experience of just how overprotective Molly
could be at times.
Glancing back up to Harry and Remus’s shared room, Alastor saw
Remus giving Harry a warm hug, which Harry returned. Alastor smiled;
perhaps Harry would be able to rely on Remus now that Sirius was gone—not that
Sirius had ever been the best of influences.
But Alastor knew that Sirius had really cared
about Harry. That was what Harry seemed
to need the most, and Alastor would lay any amount of
money on Harry never having experienced that at the Dursleys’.
Outside Remus and Harry’s room, Giles was
walking up with a tray of food. Alastor chuckled as he saw Giles knock, prompting Harry to
hastily draw back from Remus; it seemed that Harry was just as proud as his
father had been, doing his best not to show weakness in front of others.
As he debated how long he should leave it
before giving up on Mundungus, Alastor
kept flicking his gaze back to Harry and Remus as they ate their meal. Every time he looked up, they were talking
animatedly, and this was punctuated by laughter and smiles. Alastor hadn’t seen
Remus this engrossed in a conversation in a long, long time, and Harry
certainly looked more cheerful than the distant dejected teenager he usually
appeared to be. It left him feeling
reassured about Harry’s well-being to see them getting on so well. For once, both Remus and Harry looked happy
and carefree. The friendship they had
struck certainly seemed to be good for them.
They were good for each other.
After they had eaten, Harry went into the
bathroom and began to undress as he headed for the shower. Alastor would have
gone back to studying other clientele in the pub at that point, only he noticed
that Remus was also in the process of stripping off in the bedroom. Naked as the day he was born, Remus strode
confidently toward the bathroom door.
What
the devil does that man think he’s doing? Moody
wondered in amazement. Harry’s going to have a fit when Remus opens
that door.
But to Alastor’s
complete surprise, Harry didn’t appear at all fazed by Remus’s
behaviour. Instead, he merely held open
the shower door and stood back to let Remus join him. Alastor couldn’t
help gaping as he watched Harry and Remus slide their arms around each other
and begin to kiss underneath the spray of water.
Alastor saw Harry draw back and retrieve the soap. Working up a lather,
Harry began to wash Remus’s chest, and Remus gave a
smile that betrayed just how much he appreciated the attention. Remus closed his eyes as Harry moved from his
chest to his arms, taking time to work the soap suds in with firm, massaging
strokes. Harry’s hands travelled down Remus’s sides to his waist, before turning him to face the
other way.
Harry started kneading Remus’s
shoulders and worked his way down, kissing at Remus’s
spine as the water rinsed it clean. When
Harry’s hands reached Remus’s hips, they slipped
round to the front, soapy fingers running themselves through the tufts of hair
at the base of Remus’s erect cock. Alastor could see
Remus was breathing heavily; Remus’s mouth was hanging
open, his hips jerking forwards when Harry briefly wrapped a hand around his cock
and then encircling his sac.
Harry was now sucking on the back of Remus’s neck, and he slid his hands round to Remus’s backside.
Remus shifted slightly, widening his stance as Harry’s fingers gradually
worked their way inwards with slow, teasing circles. Suddenly, Remus arched back, arms straining
against the wall.
Alastor didn’t need to focus in any closer with his magical eye to know exactly
what Harry was doing to Remus. In
response, Remus pushed back with his hips, fucking himself on Harry’s
finger. Harry reached up with his other
hand and took the shower head from its holder, first letting the water stream
across Remus’s back, and then moving it lower.
Harry sank to his knees, withdrawing his
digit. Holding Remus’s
cheeks apart, Harry directed the spray between them, and Alastor
saw Remus cry out. Keeping the shower
head in the same position, Harry kissed the skin in front of him and slowly
moved his mouth to where his finger had been moments before.
Rivulets of water ran across Harry’s face
as he circled with his tongue and pushed the tip inside. Remus threw his head back, fingers curling
against the wet wall of the shower, pushing backwards onto Harry’s tongue, and
then pushing forwards into Harry’s hand as he reached round to firmly grasp at Remus’s erection. Remus’s body tensed, and he came
with a shout.
Standing up, Harry replaced the shower head
back in its holder at the same time that Remus sank to the floor. Remus looked up and smiled warmly, running a
hand up the back of Harry’s calf in an affectionate way. His hand sliding further up Harry’s thigh, he
leant forward to wrap his lips around Harry’s cock. Harry sunk his hands into Remus’s
wet hair, his fingers curling when Remus took his cock all the way in.
“CONSTANT VIGILANCE!” A voice suddenly barked in Alastor’s ear,
causing him to jump up and nearly knock the table over.
It was Mundungus,
looming over him with a grin.
“You idiot,” Alastor
growled. “Shut up and sit down.”
“Just wanted to make sure that Eric knows
we’re here,” Mundungus muttered in a whisper.
“Well, he certainly does now. Though, we’ll be lucky if he doesn’t realise
that this is a set up. That was
completely over the top.”
“It’ll be all right,” Mundungus
said without concern. “Anyway, what’s up
with you? No longer practising what you
preach, Mad-Eye? What’s so interesting
that it’s caught you off-guard?
“Never you mind,” Alastor grunted. “And we have other things to discuss.”
Alastor and Mundungus proceeded with their phoney
conversation, with Alastor relieved that Munch had
not been startled off by Mundungus’s earlier
entrance. But he was still
distracted.
He did not know what to make of this
evening’s revelation. On the one hand,
instinct told Alastor that it was wrong; it was an
inappropriate affair that he was morally obliged to put a stop to. Yet on the other, he had to ask himself what would
happen to Harry if Alastor intervened in their
relationship. Who would he have to turn
to if Remus was kept away from him? It
seemed that moral obligation had turned into a moral dilemma.
As the evening wore on, he tried to decide
what to do, occasionally glancing upwards to check on Harry and Remus as he
continued to play out his meeting with Mundungus. He noticed that Harry and Remus had remained
in the shower for some time, both of them sitting on the floor, arms around
each other, simply kissing as the water continued to cascade over them. From there, they had made it to the floor of
the bathroom, where they sat amongst towels, drying every last inch of each other.
The last time that Alastor
looked up that night, the pair of them were no longer in the shower, instead
they had made it to the bed. Alastor would say that they were fucking, but he had fucked
before, and this wasn’t anything like it.
Remus and Harry were moving fluidly, bodies
flush against each other, their skin seemingly attached, holding on tightly and
kissing, as if this connection was all either of them lived for. Alastor could see
them gazing into each others’ eyes, completely lost in the moment. There were only two words that Alastor could think of to describe it. Making love.
He felt a twinge of jealousy; he had never
had anything like that, and he could not imagine trusting anyone enough to ever
become that close with them. It was
obvious how much this meant to both Remus and Harry. What they had was special. Private. He had to acknowledge that maybe he was
wrong: maybe not all illicit affairs needed to be stamped out. He would not—could not—expose Remus and Harry. Far too much damage could be done that
way. They needed to be protected.
Alastor turned his eye away from them for the last time, feeling like an
intruder to their intimacy, and he vowed to speak to Albus
the next morning. Not to let him know
about the relationship that existed between Harry and Remus, but to tell Albus that they needed each other, and that no matter what
might come out about them, Albus would have to
consider that fact in his decisions. Alastor knew that Albus wouldn’t
ask questions, but if the time came, he would understand. Albus would realise
how important Remus and Harry’s relationship was if Alastor,
of all people, chose not to expose what they had.
Alastor had had enough of being there that evening, being too aware of
Remus and Harry’s closeness: it made him uncomfortable, and not just because he
felt he had been looking in on something he shouldn’t. Hurriedly finishing off the staged conversation,
he gave a gruff goodbye to Mundungus and then
wandered out into the streets of
~~~