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The Talk by tonksloveswerewolves
Chapter 1 : The Talk
Rating: 15+Chapter Reviews: 14

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Dear Readers,


This project is indeed a product of the minds of tonksloveswerewolves and Tor Petty, and, as such, it is a collaboration piece. Don’t ask where we came up with the idea; we’re just weird. Please note: tonksloveswerewolves is the H/Hr shipper – we couldn’t help ourselves throwing it in.




One fine morning, on a lustrous sunny day – Oh, hell. I haven’t been out of this bloody dump in weeks! I don’t know if the goddamn sun is shining! – Sirius Black walked the halls of the once-grand-but-now-dusty Grimmauld Place. Harry (and his friends – Ron and Hermione, of course) was staying over for Christmas Break, but the house was still just as silent as ever. In fact, he hadn’t seen his godson or Ron or Hermione all afternoon. Even Walburga hadn’t made a sound from behind her velvet curtain.


Quite odd, Sirius thought before his mind turned to more nostalgic thoughts: the one time James had ever slept over here at Grimmauld Place. Orion had banned him after that night – a ‘filthy blood-traitor’ was a ‘bad influence’ on Sirius and would not be ‘welcomed anymore’.


Vaguely, Sirius remembered exactly which guest room James had stayed in all those years ago. I wonder if James had left any of his stuff – one simple thought sparked an interest in looking through that bedroom.


He was on the fence about Harry’s present. Sirius wanted to give him something monumental: a token, a hand-me-down of epic proportions, something James and he had used as students. Sirius was almost certain that one of the two-way mirrors was still in that guest room. Almost. But what if it wasn’t?


You can always make a new one. But it would be more special if you checked for the old one first.


He didn’t even have to order his feet to go there; he had arrived unconsciously. Sirius ran his fingers over the cool crystal doorknob of one room he hadn’t entered in many years.


Well, here it goes. Cheers to gift-hunting.


Sirius opened the door and stepped inside the room.


He didn’t find the mirror; that was for sure.


His first thought was:


So that’s where Harry is.


His second thought was:


Wait a godforsaken minute! What the HELL?


Sirius was, oddly enough, reminded of James and Lily. Harry and Hermione were perched on the edge of the bed, arms entwined around one another and fingers curled around both black and brown strands of hair. Their eyes were closed, and Sirius could plainly see their tongues going into one another’s mouths. They were clumsy, but enthusiastic. One of Harry’s hands was free.


Harry and Hermione seemed to be concentrating immensely on their snog-partner (as if they had never done such multi-tasking in their lives), and from what Sirius could see, they were doing a damn fine job, too. Fine, indeed, as they hadn’t even noticed he was in the room yet. It looked as if Harry’s hand had started on Hermione’s face, but had started drifting dangerously far south toward the girl’s blouse.


Merlin’s pants, is he about to grab…!?


Sirius coughed. Harry blinked. Hermione flushed.


“Haven’t you ever heard of privacy?!” Harry half-yelled, standing up and turning a remarkable shade of maroon.


“It’s my house,” Sirius protested half-heartedly; he was – naturally – amused.


Harry opened his mouth to retort, but Sirius put up his hand to silence him. “Feel free to save it, savvy?”


Hermione looked determinedly at her Mary-Janes as Sirius strode out of the room.


What would he do? His godson was developing – Sirius shuddered – hormones. ‘The Talk’ would have to be given, surely, but God forbid he be the one to do it. No, he’d rather turn to someone more…professional…someone who had a knack with teenagers.  Yes, he’d call upon an ex-professor and former best-mate.


… And so, the issue was passed on to Remus Lupin…




Remus Lupin sat in the shabby living room of his flat, looking completely bewildered. An interesting head had popped into his fireplace earlier – or rather, a regular head (the one of his former best-mate) and an interesting conversation.


How Sirius had talked him into giving Harry ‘The Talk’, Remus would never know. Sirius always was persuasive.


Remus rolled over the key points of Sirius’s argument in his head. “You’re a professor, Moony! You’re good with that sort of thing.” Remus had retorted back with “I was a professor, Sirius. He’s your godson, anyway. You should do it.”


Sirius, of course, knew the right words to follow. “If you remember, mate, I wasn’t exactly responsible when it came to girls. I could teach Harry the proper contraceptive charms… but who knows what other ideas I could put into his head.”


Remus sighed. He knew it had been an empty threat, but he gave in anyway. Just that thought filled Remus up with dread. Sirius would owe him big time.


On his way over to Grimmauld Place, Remus stopped by a wizard Parenting Shoppe in Diagon Alley. After wandering the seemingly endless aisle dedicated to this sort of thing, all he picked up was a small pamphlet on wizard contraceptives.


I don’t care what Sirius says. I’ll leave it at the basics – I’m not in the mood to explain ‘safety’ to a hormone-ridden teenager. Best leave it to the pamphlet.


After looking curiously through all the clichéd guides on ‘The Talk’, Remus bypassed them all – believing he could do a better job than those that think they know what they’re talking about.


The lady at the check-out counter eyed him warily, looking at the subject matter of the pamphlet. “Three sickles and seven knuts,” she stated not-too-keenly.


“I’m giving ‘The Talk’,” Remus explained in a low grumble, fishing the change from his darned pocket.




Remus stiffly walked into the foyer. Why did this job seem like a piece of cake half an hour ago, but now it was the worst thing he’d have to do ever?


“Lupin!” Harry called, coming over to greet him. Remus’s eyes flicked darkly towards Sirius, who was standing in a doorway down the hall.


“Er, hello Harry. There’s something I need to speak with you about,” Remus said quietly, putting his hand on the teen’s shoulder and guiding him into the living room.


“What is it?” Harry asked, excitement dwindling into concern.


“Just give me a moment,” Remus replied, sinking into the chair across from the sofa. “Please sit.”


Harry plopped onto the couch, clasping his hands together in his lap. “Now, Harry, has anyone ever clued you in to the ‘facts of life’?”


Harry’s brow furrowed. Remus put a finger under his collar, hoping to relieve some of the pressure that he suddenly found overbearing.


He continued, “‘The Hippogriffs and the Harpies’?”


Harry cleared his throat. “Sir?”


“I believe muggles call it ‘the Birds and the Bees’?”


Harry visibly reddened.


Remus sighed and pulled a Chocolate Frog from his pocket and tossed it to Harry, who caught it effortlessly, being the seeker that he was. “You’re going to need it.”


Harry said nothing and peered sheepishly down at the candy bar.


“From the look on your face, I can already tell that you know about sex,” Remus went on, trying not to put on an air of a desperately embarrassed man, but instead understanding professor. Harry nodded and put his face in his hands.


“It’s nothing to be ashamed to talk about,” Remus said fondly, relaxing now that he was unable to see Harry’s expressions. “There are just a few things you should know about.”


“Like polishing the old broomstick, for one,” came a smooth voice from the corner of the room. Sirius Black was leaning against the doorframe, grinning. “Masturbation is the preferable alternative to pre-marital ‘frolicking’.”


“Sirius,” Remus began in a warning tone. “I can handle this – you were the one who didn’t want any part of it.”


Sirius put his hands in the air defensively and retreated from the room.


“Sorry for the interruption,” Remus said to the boy whose face was still hidden. “But your godfather does have a point. It is a natural thing in a young man’s life.”


Harry groaned as if he had just been given the death sentence.


“This can’t be as hard for you as it is for me,” Remus said sharply. “Anyway, Harry. Do me a favor…”


Harry looked up from his palms for the first time, alarmed. Remus chuckled.


“Just wait for the right girl. You’ll know.”


Harry looked at his trainers, relieved, and mumbled something unintelligible.


“Sex isn’t something to be taken lightly, Harry. It’s not a game or a trend. It’s always better to wait.”


Harry sat up straight, sensing the end of the conversation. “Thanks for the… er… talk.”


“You’re welcome, Harry,” Remus said quietly. “Oh, and take a look at this, if you please,” Remus added, getting up and handing Harry the pamphlet.


“You know,” he continued hastily. “For avoiding something stupid if ‘polishing the broomstick’ isn’t enough.”


A bark of laughter could be heard from the hallway. “Shut it, Black,” Remus mumbled under his breath before heading out of the room, leaving Harry to peruse through the techniques of using wizarding contraceptives.


Once in the hall, Remus didn’t just see Sirius; Tonks, Fred, George, Bill, and Hestia (he had thought she was more mature than that!) were by the door, all leaning on one another to keep from collapsing with silent giggles. They applauded as he passed.


“That was totally worth five Sickles,” Tonks chuckled before tripping down to the kitchen. Remus turned on his old school friend accusingly.


“Padfoot, you sold tickets!?”

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