Accidentally In Love Part 14: Wayward Son
Mar. 4th, 2008 11:10 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
lls_mutantOkay, I suck at copy n paste. The little "Previously" thing I did only contained one segment that I wanted, and of course, I didn't save the file. ::sigh:: I may try to change that tomorrow, but for tonight I need to crash.
If you don't feel the need for a "Previously" montage, here's the chapter!
Title:Accidentally In Love Part 14: Wayward Son
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
lupinslittlesis
Rating: The whole fic is R. I think this part is probably PG-13
Summary: Life is never easy, especially when a full moon night brings secrets to the surface.
Notes: Thanks toaome for the beta job! It's been a long time, but here we are again!
There was a tiny plot of land attached to James' and Lily's flat, with two stately old trees. It was a small matter for Sirius to Transfigure a blanket and use some Sticking Charms to attach it, even with Harry sobbing his head off. He stripped off his shirt and collapsed into the impromptu hammock, a squalling, nappy-clad Harry on his chest. Right now, Sirius didn't care if the kid cried the whole rest of the time. He needed to rest.
Harry wasn't hungry. He wasn't wet or dirty. (Anymore. Sirius had honestly not known that babies could hold that much, thus the lack of any clothing beyond a nappy.) He was tired- Sirius knew this- but he wasn't sleeping. But despite the feeling of utter panic welling inside him, Sirius wouldn't contact James. Not unless it was a real emergency, and this didn't qualify.
It wasn't like James and Lily could go out to dinner, or go see a show. Not in the Wizarding world, anyway. Not these days. A low profile was certainly best. But they could escape for an afternoon into the Muggle world, especially on this beautiful early October day. Sirius had offered to take Harry. He'd expected to have to argue, but Lily had been pulling James out the door before she could even finish hollering instructions at him.
In the here and now, Harry suddenly burped, letting out a huge gob of spit up onto Sirius's chest, which Sirius barely managed to wipe away with his hand before Harry put his head in it. The howling stopped and Harry snuffled a few times, snuggling closer to Sirius.
"Feel better?" Sirius asked the adorable leaky sack of fluids.
Harry hiccuped and sighed.
Sirius picked up his wand and Vanished the goo, cast a quick charm to protect Harry's baby skin from the sun, and another to keep their hammock gently rocking. It lulled Harry to sleep quickly, and Sirius to sleep very soon after.
He woke up to the sound of laughter. Lily was pushing James' wand down, protesting that he'd douse Harry in the process, too. The two of them looked happy and relaxed for once and,despite his exhaustion, Sirius smiled.
"Was he all right for you, then?" Lily asked.
"No. He was a bloody terror. Cried most of the time you were gone, until he spit up." Despite his harsh words and the sweaty wetness of on skin, Sirius didn't dislodge the baby from his cuddled position on his bare chest. "The sleeper's somewhere near the door, and so's my robe."
"I'm not washing them for you," James scowled. "I'm not that liberated." He kissed Lily on the cheek. "I'll go in and start us dinner, yeah?"
"Sounds good." Lily smiled at him as he disappeared, and then transfigured a flower pot into a chair and sat down beside Sirius's hammock. "I'm sorry it was such a bad afternoon."
"Ah, it could have been worse. Compared to chasing down Death Eaters, a little baby spit is nothing," Sirius said. "At least he didn't mean it. Did you two have a good afternoon?"
"Wonderful," Lily sighed. "I dragged James to the cinema. I haven't been in years. I think it kept his mind off tonight a bit."
Sirius heaved a huge sigh. "He's still not taking it well, is he?"
James had joined them at the werewolf settlement for the August full moon. Sirius wouldn't ever call it easy- watching all those wolves was rather terrifying, and Remus was much harder to control in this environment. But James had taken it so much harder than either Sirius or Peter- or even Remus.
"It's the kids that upset him," Lily explained. "I mean, I know you and Peter and Remus comprehend just how horrible it is for kids to have to have a life like this. But when you have a child of your own … well, it's amazing how quickly your mind can form the images of that baby having to go through it too. And then the pictures are just so hard to get rid of. They just stay in your head." She shuddered. "I'm almost glad I can't go with you."
"I am, too," Sirius sighed. "You don't want to see it, Lily."
Lily hugged her knees. "There's something I don't understand, though. Why so many kids? And why are they out in the wild? Why aren't they with their parents?"
Sirius's face darkened. "I can think of answers, Lily. And they aren't nice."
Lily sighed. "I know. Unfortunately, they're probably true."
***
It was three in the afternoon. Remus wanted to be finishing pruning the flutterby bush and maybe shoveling dragon dung around Ripspot's herb garden. But instead, he was Apparating to Werewolf Central, because Apunam had sent a letter insisting.
You always arrive so late and leave so early, Anupam had written. I do not think you understand Fenrir's eagerness to get to know you. You must not be so shy. I realize that you still live in the Wizarding world and do not wish to change, but you are still a part of our pack. It had been politely phrased and elegantly written on the back of a discarded takeout menu, and Remus knew he had to answer it. If not, they would begin to wonder why, and Remus was smart enough to know that he didn't want that to happen.
Besides, Dumbledore wanted information. "They might not be full Death Eaters, my boy," he'd said, "but Voldemort still uses them for his purposes. Any information you can give me might save lives." How could Remus refuse that?
The settlement was exactly like it had been last time and the time before. As he approached, the others still regarded him with suspicion and curiosity. Remus had to remind himself that it was understandable; he'd spent less than twenty-four hours in their company, and most of that had been as a wolf. Add to that the fact he felt well-dressed in a dirt-stained robe, and he was one of the few people there with a wand… and well, he did stand out.
Anupam came to greet him with a smile and an extended hand. "Remus. I'm so glad you came."
Did I have a choice? Remus wanted to ask. He held back and smiled. "Thank you for inviting me."
"No invitation is ever needed," Anupam said, slipping an arm around Remus's shoulder. "You know you're welcome here."
"An unconditional welcome is something I'm not exactly used to," Remus said, his voice sounding far more bitter than he'd planned.
"No, we know something about that," Anupam said. "I believe you were fired from your last job, am I right?"
Remus didn't answer.
"I must admit, Fenrir and I don't share opinions on your previous employer," Anupam continued.
"On Prewett?"
"No, on Dearborn." The name was sharp, needling a wound that was hidden but unhealed. "Fenrir's loyalty to the Dark Lord transcends many other concerns. As far as he was concerned, Dearborn got what he deserved. But I must admit I was rather sad to hear of his death. A man who would hire a werewolf and even risk his own standing to allow him to keep a job…" Anupam shook his head. "Such men are rare."
Remus's brow furrowed. "The Dark Lord would do that, though, wouldn’t he? That's what I've been told."
Anupam ran a hand through his hair. "Yes," he began, but he hesitated. "But I suppose it depends on what you mean. The Dark Lord sees a place for werewolves in his world, a place where we are free and do not have to succumb to the painful restrictions that others would have us endure. He understands that we are what we are, and that we have our place. After all, how are we different than the tiger or the lion or even the shark? Those are all beasts that present a threat to humans, and yet we Muggles protect them. We-"
"Wait, you're a Muggle?" Apunam nodded. "But why-"
"Muggles talk as well, leaving one with a tarnished reputation, to say the least. And as you know, lycanthropy carries many burdens, most of which are best shared, especially with a friend. But to answer your original question… the Dark Lord has his place for werewolves, and it is more than any one man has ever offered our kind, from what I understand. But I doubt that he would understand a werewolf desiring to be a scientist, or a bank teller."
Remus swallowed hard. "That's quite different than what I was told."
Anupam chuckled. "I didn't say he wouldn't allow it. I just said he wouldn't understand it. Here we are. Fenrir!" he called out as they entered a cave. "Remus is here!"
The cave was messy. There were leaves that had blown in and scattered debris, and Remus wasn't entirely sure if the cracking under his foot was a stick or a small bone. He'd seen Fenrir several times before- a big, unshaven man, bursting out of his robes. The state of his cave wasn't a shock.
The battered tin pot and the two cracked china mugs were, however.
Fenrir emerged from the back of the cave. "Ta, Anupam," he said, and Anupam drifted out of the cave. Fenrir gestured to the firepit. "Sit," he invited Remus.
There were no chairs, so Remus awkwardly folded his legs under him, sitting on the dirt floor of the cave. Fenrir sat down across from him, far more at home. He picked up the pot and poured them both cups of bitter black coffee. He pushed a plate of nuts and berries toward Remus, and scooped up a handful of deep red berries for himself.
"Suppose this is awkward for you," he said around a mouthful of fruit.
"I guess," Remus admitted.
"Anupam says I should tell you about myself. He's right. Went to Hogwarts, you know, just like you."
"Oh." Remus's brow furrowed at the unexpected line of conversation. "What House were you in?"
"Hufflepuff. Something to that old song; I kept my scarf till it fell apart, but I don't have much use for the rest of those duffers these days. Anyway, never any great shakes at magic- not like I hear you are." He looked at Remus with something that almost looked like pride. "So I got me a job. Wasn't anything much, was just tending some animals for a bloke. But I liked it. Then one night, this werewolf comes along and bites me. Just like that. Two years out of Hogwarts, and my life is over."
Remus picked up a nut and nibbled at it.
"Well, you know perfectly well how wizards treat werewolves. Made me change my name, made me check in several times a month, told me I'd be killed if I killed anyone else. Now, that don't all sit right with me. I didn't ask to be bit by no werewolf, and plenty of other things go eating humans and don't get killed for it. Not to mention they don't know what being a werewolf is like. It's nature, see? Can't really change it, am I right?"
"I guess," Remus said around a lump in his throat.
"See, I know you don't totally agree with that. I know you shut yourself up," Fenrir said. "But how much damage does that do you? Ministry don't force other animals to hurt themselves. If the Ministry don't want people dead, they should tell them to stay inside on a full moon, right? So, the Ministry sees no reason to let me live, I see no reason to let them live. I am what I am, and there's no denying it. So. I go on, and I find my place out here, and I find me a pack.
"Course, things develop. Like taste. You have a favorite food, Remus?"
"I guess."
"Course you do. Everyone does. Even animals. And me, well, I like kids. Never made much of a secret of it. It's sort of like preferring veal to beef, Anupam says. Don't know about that, but I do know I like kids. They taste different, real sweet and tender."
"I… I…."
Fenrir snorted. "Sound like Stern, you do. No matter. That's not what's important. What's important is that not all the kids die. Some of 'em live. Not many, but they do.
"You'd think it wouldn't matter to me, right? I mean, I wanted to eat the kid. What's the difference? Well, it does. When one of those little scrappers lives… wow. It says something about that kid. Amazing. And when a kid has that kind of guts, they belong out here. Of course, parents don't usually argue. No one wants a werewolf in their family. So they become mine. My kids."
"Your kids?" Remus whispered.
"Yup. Anyway, I'm told you're a bright lad, so I'm guessing you can see where I'm going with this. Back in 1965 an Auror crossed my path. Not the most considerate of men. Thought he was better than me. Pretentious. Gave me a hard time for something I didn't do, just cause he knew what I was. I don't like that. So, I got revenge. More coffee?"
Remus's hand shook as he extended his mug. "Revenge?" he prompted, even though, deep down, he knew what Fenrir was going to say.
"You really were a very sweet little kid, you know," Fenrir said with a smile. "Didn't really expect you to live. Heck, with your old man, didn't really want you to live. He didn't deserve it. But you did, and you know what? I was proud of you. You had guts."
Remus gave up even trying to speak and concentrated instead on keeping his lunch down.
"You were supposed to come here, you know. Didn't think a man like your father would keep you. Must have been that mother of yours. She was some woman, I'll tell you. I was even sorry to hear that she had to die. Guess I can understand, but still. Sad.
"Anyway, you're here now, and for the past few months I've been wanting to say 'welcome home.' It's been a long time in coming." Fenrir smiled widely, and Remus could see where the berry juice had stained his gums a deep red.
There were a million things he wanted to do. No, there was one thing. He wanted to jump to his feet and run, run so fast that Fenrir would be left behind, and then throw up until nothing was left in his body. He wanted to escape, to cleanse himself, to Obliviate his mind so he could forget everything he'd just been told.
But a calm, quiet voice in his head reminded him that running would result in certain death. Worse. The werewolf sitting in front of him had admitted to biting people for revenge. Who would Fenrir bite if Remus defied him? And if he ran now, what implications would that have to the Death Eaters?
Fortunately, Fenrir seemed to take Remus's silence as emotion, and leaned forward and clapped him on the shoulder. He had a deep, iron musk about him that only increased Remus's nausea, but he managed to smile at the gesture. When he sat back, Fenrir sniffed. Remus became aware that something was expected of him.
"I don't know what to say," he managed.
He was sitting on the floor of a cave, staring at the man who had just confessed to ruining his life and was proud of it. Never in his wildest nightmares had Remus imagined that spying on the Death Eaters would involve this.
And he had never imagined that he'd find himself smiling, and saying the right things.
Fenrir was asking him to tell him about himself, and Remus was. He told him some sketchy details of his young life, his life at Hogwarts, and the sort of treatment he'd received since. The bitterness in his voice when he spoke of the years post-Hogwarts was not entirely faked, and he hated himself for that, just a little.
***
The sun was close to setting when Sirius finally spotted Remus, stepping out from a cave. He was with a big, burly, hairy man that had a very feral look about him, and Sirius didn't like him at all. He growled, deep in his throat. James cocked his head towards Sirius, but Sirius just shook his head at James's inquisitive look. Not that he could exactly communicate perfectly, given that a canine throat didn't vocalize nearly as well as a human one did, but he knew James was unhinged enough.
He watched Remus carefully, but Remus didn't look over at them, even though he knew that they'd be there. His face looked strange. Sirius couldn't put his finger on the expression, but he didn't like it at all.
The moon was about to rise. On James's antlers, Peter twitched his tail nervously.
The transformation was just as horrible this time as it had always been, to Sirius's eyes. But this time, he was able to tear his eyes away from Remus and at least glance at the others. And when he did, he couldn't blame James for turning his head away. Watching their best friend undergo this kind of pain was horrible. Watching a child do it was ten times worse. Sirius made a mental note to be extra nice to Damien tomorrow, and then the night's work began in earnest.
It had never been this hard. Remus was vicious, even more so than he'd been the first time he'd transformed with the werewolves. There was an edge to his howl that Sirius had never heard before, something that might be anger and might be pain and might be bloodlust, but raised the hairs on his neck and made him want to turn tail and run.
The werewolves weren't hunting as a pack tonight. Instead, they were splintering into several smaller groups. Remus made a gray wolf, and therefore was often hard to spot as at least half the other wolves were gray as well. Sirius scanned the masses of fur and tails and legs, searching.
A small wolf came up to them, curious and playful. Sirius froze. In the few times they'd done this, they'd never been noticed before. The wolf wagged its tail and growled playfully at Sirius. It yipped, rolling over a few times and wagging his tail again.
James lowered his nose slowly, and the wolf batted at it with his paw. The invitation to play was clear, and Sirius could see it broke his best friend's heart.
An older wolf spotted them and growled at the young wolf. Sirius held his breath as the older wolf noticed them and cocked his head. He studied them for what felt like a long time, and then nudged the younger wolf away and went on.
An angry squeaking at Sirius's feet brought him back to the present. Peter was dashing away a few feet and then running back, nipping at Sirius's paws. The message was clear. Remus had gone that way.
Sirius shook himself, picked Peter up by the scruff of the neck in his mouth (ignoring Peter's indignant squeaks), and took off, running down the hill and skidding to avoid crashing into trees. The wolves had a head start, and they knew the woods far better.
He heard the screams before they reached the pack. A man, from the sounds of things. Sirius thought his heart would explode, but he increased his speed anyway. He wondered irrelevantly that his feet didn't tangle together, but he found himself there, watching the pack tear an unfortunate soul to shreds.
He'd never vomited before as a dog, and was surprised to find it was easier than as a human.
There was a gray wolf in the center, eating the stomach of the man that the pack had killed. But when it looked up, blood on his muzzle, both Sirius and Peter heaved a sigh of relief. There was a black patch around one eye, and a black tip on the ear. Not Remus. Peter squeaked apologetically, and Sirius sighed heavily with relief.
Thank God Peter was so often wrong.
***
Despite the fact he wanted to feel miserable, Remus couldn't help but notice he had far less of a headache after transformations in the woods. He didn't like to think about it, because not only were the implications terrifying, but it felt intensely disloyal to the friends who had worked so hard to make his life much easier. But it was the truth, and when he woke up the next morning Remus felt stiff, sore, and tired, but otherwise better than he had in a long time on a morning after the full moon.
He was walking back to the encampment when he heard the pounding of feet and excited breath behind him. Stefan nearly tackled him to the ground.
"Did you see? Did you see?"
"Did I see what?" Remus asked, grinning despite himself.
"The dog! There was a dog last night! And a deer!"
Remus's blood ran cold. "Well, it is a forest," he said carefully. "There are probably lots of dogs and deer in it."
"I know," Stefan said. "But I never remember them. These must have been magic!"
"I don't know if that's how magic works," Remus said, but Stefan was running onward. Remus watched him go, suddenly aware of several aches that hadn't been there before.
"Magic animals," Jakob Stern said, walking up behind him quietly on the pine needles on the forest floor. "Imagine that."
"Lad has quite an imagination," Remus said.
"So he does. Except… I remember seeing them, too."
"Really?" Remus was amazed his voice didn't crack.
"It was very odd," Stern said. He sounded older than Remus had ever heard him sound. "Like… I was still me. Like there was a bit of human in me still. It was only when they were around, though. Just that one moment is all I really remember. Well, all I want to remember."
Remus understood that. It wasn't a truth that he never remembered anything from the transformations- not really. Just impressions of smells and feelings and tastes and touches, mingled together on a blood-red background. It was the kind of thing his nightmares had always been made of.
He watched Stern walk on, briskly enough to catch up with the enthusiastic Stefan. He felt torn, torn between wanting his friends to have safety and wanting these people to have sanity.
And he knew which he was going to have to choose.
***
"Did you see him?" James moaned for the twelfth time that morning. "Sirius, he was so small. He couldn't have been any more than eleven!"
"That's the same age Remus was when we met him," Sirius reminded James firmly.
He didn't understand why he was so annoyed with James. Yes, the concept of a child as a werewolf was utterly horrendous. Sirius could admit that. And yet… and yet….
Remus had been a child werewolf. Remus had survived, humanity intact.
"We should do something," James was saying. "There has to be a way."
Sirius looked at Lily, who was biting her lip. Peter sighed heavily, and said what all three of them were thinking.
"Prongs, Remus told us there are several kids. Several. There's only the three of us. And if we get too close to anyone besides Remus, we might be caught."
"Damn being caught! We should do what's right!"
"What's right would be telling Dumbledore," Peter pointed out. "What's right would be getting those kids out of the wild and into Hogwarts."
"What's right would be if those kids were with their parents," Lily interjected.
Peter nodded acknowledgement. "But we can't tell Dumbledore, because then the three of us- and Remus- have some very inconvenient questions to answer that could very well land all of us in Azkaban, where we're unable to help anybody. There's nothing we can do on this one, James. You can't save the world."
Sirius didn't know if he agreed about Peter's last sentiment, but he was speaking common sense. "We've just got to stick to helping Moony," he said. "James, these werewolves aren't like Remus, from what he says. A lot of them accept it. Some of them even enjoy it. Remus doesn't. We just have to keep him from killing anyone."
"It's not enough," James said.
"It's going to have to be," Sirius replied.
***
He should go home. Remus knew that. He could Apparate right home, take a long, hot shower, and curl up with a mug of hot chocolate and a bowl of the soup Lily always left for him. He could sleep in the bed he shared with Sirius, wrapped in soft quilts and clean sheets, and when Sirius came home he'd slip in beside him and Remus could always beg a backrub off him. He should go home.
Instead, he Apparated to his father's flat.
His father wasn't home. At work, Remus was sure. He moved about the flat restlessly. It looked very much like it had when Damien had moved in a year ago. (Had it been a year already? It shouldn't have been. It didn't feel like it.) There were no pictures or personal touches added to the walls, and few little comforts beyond what Damien had bought at the beginning. It bothered Remus that the sight of a rather hideous coffee mug that his mother never would have let near her house brought him some comfort.
He looked through the kitchen, but there wasn't much edible. Some tins that heated up instantly when you opened them, but Remus had never cared for the brand. (Cardboard would have been preferable.) A few items in the freezer claiming to be pizzas, but he didn't believe them. And several beers in the refrigerator. Remus opened one of them, but found himself unable to drink much. He settled in his father's armchair and stared at the wall until his eyes grew heavy.
The sound of his father moving about woke him up. Remus stood up at the same time his father walked in. Damien raised his wand, and then dropped it to his side.
"Remus. You scared me half to death."
His father looked like a stranger to him. "I met Fenrir Greyback yesterday," he blurted with no preamble.
Damien's eyes narrowed, and his knuckles turned white as he clenched his wand. "How the hell did you do that?"
"Does it matter? What did you do?"
"What did I do?"
Remus suddenly realized that the nausea he'd been fighting wasn't nervousness, but rage. "Yes, Dad. What did you do? He told me, you know. That it was revenge when he bit me."
Damien took a deep breath. "You might want to consider that what would be offensive to a werewolf who would bite children for revenge is probably acceptable to the rest of society."
"That doesn't matter!" Remus retorted. "You did something that pissed him off. What the hell did you do?"
"Why does it matter?"
"Because it ruined my life!" Remus shouted. "YOU ruined my life by doing whatever it was you did!"
Damien pulled back, stung. "You have no idea what you're talking about."
"Oh, don't give me that self-righteous crap. He told me you accused him of doing something he didn't do just because he was a werewolf!"
"Well, excuse me for not being a part of the Werewolf Liberation Front at the time! And besides-"
"You should have known better!" Remus shouted. "You should have known what he'd do!"
"With my crystal ball? With my Divination skills!"
"Dad, I've seen the number of kids at his camp! And those are the ones that survived!"
"And it's sixteen years after you've been bitten, Remus! You survived just fine! And what were you doing at his camp, anyway?"
Something in Remus's mind kicked into caution. "I can't answer that."
"Then why should I answer you?"
"Because what I'm doing doesn't affect your life! What you did FUCKED UP MINE! YOU brought this all on me. YOU, because you were too fucking arrogant to check your facts and find out who did… WHATEVER! YOU DID THIS!!!"
The scream ripped out of him, a product of sixteen years of wanting someone to blame. Sixteen years of a life that was riddled with pain and hate and fear. Sixteen years of blaming a nameless face, of hating someone he couldn't see. And now that he could see him, Fenrir Greyback once again held his life in balance, and if he ever detected Remus's anger, death would surely follow shortly after.
Damien closed his eyes. It was an expression that Marilyn or Sirius would have recognized as him controlling his temper, but Remus was too angry to see it.
"Get out," Damien finally said, through clenched teeth.
"No. Not this time. I want an answer."
"No, you want a scapegoat. Get out."
Remus opened his mouth, but nothing came out. Not because he couldn't think of anything to say- he could think of lots of things- but because his vocal chords had been frozen. He shot his father a glare and stormed out, slamming the door so hard the plaster above the molding cracked.
There was a stiff wind blowing a few early fallen leaves about. The sky was already growing dark. The logical, reasonable part of Remus told him to walk home, calm down, and talk to Sirius. But he ignored it. He was sick of logical and reasonable. Where had that gotten him? Nowhere he wanted to be, he told himself angrily. Absolutely nowhere.
Sirius would be out late, anyway. He'd told Remus he needed to meet with Alice Longbottom and catch her up on some of what she'd missed during her maternity leave. And besides… besides. He stuffed his hands angrily in his pockets and stormed towards James's place. But when he got there, it was Lily who opened the door.
"Where's James?" he demanded without preamble.
"Remus, you look terrible. Have you slept at all today?"
"No. Lily, where's James?"
Lily sighed. "He's with Professor Dumbledore. He's planning on being out for a while."
"And Harry?"
"Harry went with him."
Normally, Remus would have laughed at the image of James planning anti-Death Eater strategy with a diaper bag, a bottle, and a baby attached to his person. Now, he found himself studying Lily with the sudden realization that he hadn't come here to talk to James, even if that's what he had originally thought.
"Remus? Are you all right?"
"No," he admitted heavily, sitting down.
"What happened? James told me everything went all right last night."
"No, it didn't, but that's not important."
"Did you…?" Lily trailed off, a worried expression on her face.
"Oh. No. Not at all." He clenched his hands tightly in his lap. "Lily, I met the werewolf who bit me."
"Oh." Lily sank down into the chair opposite him. "Oh."
"He told me why he did it, Lily. And then he told me…" his stomach contorted at the memory of Fenrir's voice telling him how he'd tasted. He wanted to howl, to scream, to vomit, to do something to take that awful memory away. Something. But he couldn't. He stared at Lily.
Lily just sat there, eyes clear and focused on him. "He told you what?" she finally asked.
The words dragged themselves out of him. "How I tasted."
"Oh. Oh God. Remus, I… I don't know what to say."
He made a face. "I guess not." He twisted in the chair, unable to get remotely comfortable and finally getting up to prowl around the room. He picked up a Sneakoscope, turning it over and over in his hands. "Course, I didn't know what to say to you last year. I guess now I know how you felt."
"It's not the same thing, Remus," Lily said in a low, clipped voice, her eyes narrowing.
"Sure it is. It's the same idea of someone violating you for their own pleasure. The same being weak and powerless and not being able to fight back."
"Remus, shut up."
"The same sickness once you know that you were used," he continued ruthlessly. He turned around to see that she'd risen out of her chair, her face white and her lips pressed together. "Sirius won't get it and James doesn't get it and Peter could never even imagine it and my father- well, fuck my father- but you, Lily. It's the same thing."
"It is not!" Lily ground out. "I'm not saying it's any less horrible, but becoming a werewolf and being raped are not the same thing! You didn't go through what I went through any more than I went through what you're going through! I'm happy to listen, I'll gladly help you, but stop saying you understand exactly what happened to me because something shitty happened to you!"
"Well, that's real empathetic," Remus snapped.
"You want empathy? You've got an entire community of werewolves!"
"Werewolves who have no problem with being werewolves! Werewolves who want to be werewolves!"
"Yes, I'm sure that was the career ambition of the kids James saw last month," Lily snapped acidly. "But you're missing the point, Remus. I am more than happy to listen to you, sympathize with you, and do anything I can to help you, but you don't get to tell me that what we went through was the same thing!"
"You don't get it!"
"You don't want me to get it! You just want to piss me off!"
Remus felt his face distorting into a scowl, almost as if he wasn't really involved in the situation. "What do you know?"
Lily pulled herself up and took a step in closer. "I know that if you really wanted to talk about this, you'd talk about what you were feeling, not what I'm feeling. You'd be telling me what happened. And you know what? I've got an idea. Oh, sure, I don't know the details. But I know that you're ashamed. And you hate yourself now, not that you ever liked yourself much to begin with. But you want to make good and sure I hate you too, because then you can feel justified in feeling sorry for yourself. Well, guess what, buddy. You don't get to do that. Get out of here." Lily pushed him in the chest, hard. "Get out of here and get your shit together, and don't you ever, ever presume to know what I'm thinking again. You tell me how YOU are, and I will fucking tell you if I understand or not. Now get the hell out."
He got the hell out, slamming the door behind him.
He walked down the streets, hands shoved deep in his pockets and his robe flaring out with his stride. There was something restless deep within him, something that wouldn't let him stop, wouldn't let him think. His movements took him home.
He intended to storm into the flat, to shout and rage until Sirius understood what was wrong. But the flat was dark.
There was no note on the table, and his father hadn't mentioned anything. Sirius knew that he'd be home… didn't he? He felt the first shaft of fear. It was irrational, but he began to wonder what if Sirius knew.
The thought made his knees go weak and forced him to sit down and bury his face in his hands, unable to face Sirius's flat, much less Sirius himself. He stayed like that until his back began to ache and his stomach began to growl, and then for lack of anything else to do he made his way to the kitchen to investigate dinner.
Lily had left a pot of soup as usual, but Remus found he wanted to be busy. So when Sirius came in, disheveled and tired, he found Remus hunched over a cookbook, chopping vegetables for a jambalaya.
"That smells good," he said, leaning on the doorjamb.
Remus looked up and smiled briefly. "Thanks. It should be ready by the time you're done with your shower."
"Are you saying I need one?" Sirius asked, with mock affront.
Remus just smiled and dumped the last of the celery into the sizzling pot. Sirius stepped into the kitchen and kissed him on the cheek. Remus felt himself stiffening.
"Hey. Are you okay?"
"Yeah. I'm fine. Go. Shower."
Sirius saluted and left. The sounds of him moving in the flat were normally comforting, but tonight they set Remus on edge. He shook his head and checked the recipe one last time before retreating to one of the kitchen chairs to brood.
Sirius emerged from the bathroom before the food was done. "That really smells good," he repeated, and came over to sit down at the table. "You, however, do not. Didn't you take a shower?"
"No," Remus realized. "I didn't."
Sirius studied him more carefully, but as he looked at him, Remus could see the dark circles under his eyes as well. "You don't look good. Have you rested at all today?"
"A little. Over at my father's flat."
"Your father's flat? Moony, is something wrong?"
"No. Maybe I should go take that shower. Will you wait for dinner?"
"Sure." Sirius waved him away, but the look on his face said they weren't done discussing this. Remus sighed and retreated.
He felt oddly detached from himself as he went through the routine motions of a shower, even though the warm water felt unbelievably good on his sore muscles. The detachment wouldn't let him think too deeply about his father or Lily, although a little voice known as reason told him Sirius was going to hear about his behavior from both those sources. The knowledge tugged at him, but he ignored it and shut off the water.
Sirius had set the table and was reading the paper by the time he emerged. "Well, you smell better, at least," he said with a lopsided grin. Remus smiled back but didn't say anything. "Thanks for making dinner," Sirius said after a long silence.
"You're welcome."
They sat down at the table, and Remus fixed his eyes on the food. "How was your day?" he managed to ask Sirius. "You look exhausted."
"It was all right. Remus, what happened?"
"It's nothing." Remus stabbed a piece of chicken with far more force than required.
"You can tell me about it," Sirius pleaded. "Can't you?"
"You can drop it," Remus snapped. "Can't you?"
"I don't know. I thought we were supposed to trust each other and talk to each other."
"Funny. I thought we were supposed to respect each other and understand each other."
They glared at each other across the table.
Sirius clenched his fork. "I can't understand what's happening if you don't tell me," he ground out slowly.
"I can't talk about it," Remus responded, equally on edge.
Sirius looked down at his plate, and then slammed down his silverware. "It's late," he said, although it wasn't. "I'm going to bed."
"Fine."
Remus watched him go. As he left the kitchen, Sirius hesitated by the doorjamb, as if he was waiting for Remus to call after him and tell him he changed his mind, but Remus remained resolutely silent. He heard Sirius close the door of their bedroom, and eventually settle onto the bed.
The only reason he finished eating was because his stomach demanded it, but the food tasted like ashes in his mouth. He finished, tidied the kitchen, and put the uneaten food away, including Sirius's portion. He did the dishes that were left from God only knew when, wiped down the counters and, just for good measure, swept and mopped the floor and cleaned all the shelves in the refrigerator. When the kitchen was sparkling, he finally admitted he was exhausted. Far too exhausted to take the extra ten steps to their bedroom, he thought, as he flopped down on the couch.
The hand on his cheek woke him from a fitful doze punctuated with nightmares. Remus sat bolt upright, fumbling for his wand. Sirius held it up, lit at the tip.
"Looking for this?" he asked softly.
Remus relaxed. "Yeah."
"I know what you mean. With the way things are these days, it's hard not to want your wand right by you all the time, isn't it?" Sirius's voice was smooth, gentle, and soft. Remus studied him carefully. It wasn't a way he'd heard Sirius speak before, at least, not too often. "And it must be worse for you. I saw where you were last night, Remus, remember? Something happened there. Will you tell me what it was?"
"I can't," Remus whispered, looking away. "Not because of secrets, but because I can't. I can't say it."
Sirius fixed his eyes on Remus, leaning in and pinning Remus's arms against the couch. I can't tell you, Remus wanted to say. You'd never look at me the same way again. But the words wouldn't form around the lump in his throat.
"You make it hard to love you, sometimes," Sirius whispered, but then his mouth was covering Remus's. Remus seized Sirius's shoulders, kissing back roughly, surprised at his own response. Sirius shifted to pull him closer, and Remus dug his nails into cloth and flesh as he bit Sirius's lower lip. Sirius pulled back, shook his head once, and then grabbed Remus's wrists and pressed them against the couch.
A thrill passed through Remus's body. This was what he wanted right now, for Sirius take him and use him. He wanted it to hurt. He wanted to lose himself in it, for this to be angry and raw.
But although Sirius held him down, his kisses were deliberately gentle. He pulled away from Remus's teeth and refused to be drawn into anger. He arranged matters so that he had one hand holding down Remus's wrists, and the other hand moved with tenderness over Remus's body. Despite himself, Remus found his heartbeat slowing down, the anger and adrenaline ebbing away. Then there was only Sirius, naked and warm, pressing down on him, moving inside of him more gently than he usually did.
He remembered a night, long ago, when Sirius had read that his father left the Ministry of Magic. He remembered Sirius's hesitation and withdrawal, and his own physical insistence. And when they were done, he had to look away so that Sirius wouldn't see the tears running down his cheeks.
"It's all right," Sirius whispered, wiping Remus's cheek with a bare palm. "Whatever happened, we'll get through this."
Remus nodded as if he believed him.
***
Sirius had a headache, and the roar of the motorbike only made it worse.
Last night had been an unqualified near-disaster. Why couldn't Remus tell him what had happened? He was only his lover, damn it. But even after doing everything he could to reassure Remus and convince him that he was still there, Remus still didn't tell him. He'd only looked away and closed it all inside, whatever it was. And it couldn't be that bad, Sirius thought grumpily. He and James and Peter had made sure Remus didn't eat anyone, and what could be worse?
He stormed into the Ministry, not in the mood for pleasant chatter or offers of coffee. Of course, with the atmosphere of worry and danger, not many people were in the mood for either. If they were, they were either faking it or Voldemort's supporters. Or really dumb, Sirius thought, which was always a possibility.
There was a pile of folders on his desk and three memos, two of which were long and drawn out and contained a lot of official language. Sirius sighed and tossed his cloak over his chair and sat down, pulling the first one to him. A half hour later, he'd read the first page about twelve times and it still hadn't sunk in.
He was almost grateful when a loud bang forced him to look up, but far less grateful when he saw that it was Damien randomly shoving chairs aside. As he approached, Sirius was suddenly taken back to sixth year and had to remind himself that he hadn't done anything wrong this time.
"I need you to look at the Nott case file first, and then the Carrow one. Doge asked us to move those up to top priority," Damien snapped with no preamble.
"Yes, sir."
"I also have some information for you on the incident that happened over in Hellington Alley. Review it before lunch."
"Yes, sir."
"Make sure you're at the seminar on defensive techniques. Especially you, since you're so wary about using Unforgivable Curses."
"Yes, sir." Sirius glanced down at his schedule and noticed that it was marked for ten o'clock. This was going to be a full morning. When he looked up, Damien's face was still stormy. Sirius decided he'd better say something before he was saddled with any more work for the morning. "Are you all right, sir?"
"What's with the 'sir' business?" Damien demanded suspiciously. "You haven't called me sir in months."
Sirius shrugged. "You just seem… upset."
Damien scowled. "I'm upset because I am apparently the worst, most worthless scum to ever walk this earth," he snarled. "I'm sure you heard all about it." Sirius shook his head, but Damien just snorted unbelievingly. "Have your expense reports on my desk for review in an hour," he snapped, and then stormed off with uneven steps.
"Who pissed in his tea this morning?" Moody growled.
Sirius spun in his chair. "I didn't know you were there."
"Didn't want you to. Don't go to the seminar. It's all stuff you know already anyway."
"But Damien said-"
"Never mind. I'll make your excuses for you. Get the other stuff done."
Sirius looked at the pile on his desk. "Thank you."
"So what's this all about?"
"I don't know." Moody fixed him with an intense, knowing stare, and Sirius shook his head. "I really don't! Remus wouldn't tell me a thing last night. I didn't even really know that they had a fight. I just know Remus went over to his house after he left-" Sirius shut his mouth abruptly.
Moody nodded. "Best not to say it, lad, but Dumbledore told me where he was last night. Lupin give you any names?"
No, but Sirius thought of the names he'd heard while there. "Anupam, but no last name." Moody nodded. "Jakob Stern. I knew that one already. Stefan something- Wolfsblood, maybe. Fenrir Greyback."
Moody was a man who didn't often show his reactions, so Sirius noticed it when he pulled back as if the last name struck him physically. "Greyback?"
"Yeah, that's what he said."
"He say anything more about Greyback?"
"No. Nothing. Why are you so interested in Greyback?"
Moody rubbed his chin. "Can't really say. Well, won't really say. But if I was you, Black, I might visit the Werewolf Registry and ask someone to tell me some stories about Greyback. But not now. You've got work to do. Get it done. I'm going to go find Damien." And with that he stomped off.
If Sirius hadn't valued his life, he'd have compared them to two girls going to the bathroom together to gossip. But he did like living, so he shook his head and turned to the mountain of work that Damien wanted done in the next three hours. He'd go to the Werewolf Registry late this afternoon.
On to Part 2
If you don't feel the need for a "Previously" montage, here's the chapter!
Title:Accidentally In Love Part 14: Wayward Son
Author:
lupinslittlesisRating: The whole fic is R. I think this part is probably PG-13
Summary: Life is never easy, especially when a full moon night brings secrets to the surface.
Notes: Thanks to
aome for the beta job! It's been a long time, but here we are again!There was a tiny plot of land attached to James' and Lily's flat, with two stately old trees. It was a small matter for Sirius to Transfigure a blanket and use some Sticking Charms to attach it, even with Harry sobbing his head off. He stripped off his shirt and collapsed into the impromptu hammock, a squalling, nappy-clad Harry on his chest. Right now, Sirius didn't care if the kid cried the whole rest of the time. He needed to rest.
Harry wasn't hungry. He wasn't wet or dirty. (Anymore. Sirius had honestly not known that babies could hold that much, thus the lack of any clothing beyond a nappy.) He was tired- Sirius knew this- but he wasn't sleeping. But despite the feeling of utter panic welling inside him, Sirius wouldn't contact James. Not unless it was a real emergency, and this didn't qualify.
It wasn't like James and Lily could go out to dinner, or go see a show. Not in the Wizarding world, anyway. Not these days. A low profile was certainly best. But they could escape for an afternoon into the Muggle world, especially on this beautiful early October day. Sirius had offered to take Harry. He'd expected to have to argue, but Lily had been pulling James out the door before she could even finish hollering instructions at him.
In the here and now, Harry suddenly burped, letting out a huge gob of spit up onto Sirius's chest, which Sirius barely managed to wipe away with his hand before Harry put his head in it. The howling stopped and Harry snuffled a few times, snuggling closer to Sirius.
"Feel better?" Sirius asked the adorable leaky sack of fluids.
Harry hiccuped and sighed.
Sirius picked up his wand and Vanished the goo, cast a quick charm to protect Harry's baby skin from the sun, and another to keep their hammock gently rocking. It lulled Harry to sleep quickly, and Sirius to sleep very soon after.
He woke up to the sound of laughter. Lily was pushing James' wand down, protesting that he'd douse Harry in the process, too. The two of them looked happy and relaxed for once and,despite his exhaustion, Sirius smiled.
"Was he all right for you, then?" Lily asked.
"No. He was a bloody terror. Cried most of the time you were gone, until he spit up." Despite his harsh words and the sweaty wetness of on skin, Sirius didn't dislodge the baby from his cuddled position on his bare chest. "The sleeper's somewhere near the door, and so's my robe."
"I'm not washing them for you," James scowled. "I'm not that liberated." He kissed Lily on the cheek. "I'll go in and start us dinner, yeah?"
"Sounds good." Lily smiled at him as he disappeared, and then transfigured a flower pot into a chair and sat down beside Sirius's hammock. "I'm sorry it was such a bad afternoon."
"Ah, it could have been worse. Compared to chasing down Death Eaters, a little baby spit is nothing," Sirius said. "At least he didn't mean it. Did you two have a good afternoon?"
"Wonderful," Lily sighed. "I dragged James to the cinema. I haven't been in years. I think it kept his mind off tonight a bit."
Sirius heaved a huge sigh. "He's still not taking it well, is he?"
James had joined them at the werewolf settlement for the August full moon. Sirius wouldn't ever call it easy- watching all those wolves was rather terrifying, and Remus was much harder to control in this environment. But James had taken it so much harder than either Sirius or Peter- or even Remus.
"It's the kids that upset him," Lily explained. "I mean, I know you and Peter and Remus comprehend just how horrible it is for kids to have to have a life like this. But when you have a child of your own … well, it's amazing how quickly your mind can form the images of that baby having to go through it too. And then the pictures are just so hard to get rid of. They just stay in your head." She shuddered. "I'm almost glad I can't go with you."
"I am, too," Sirius sighed. "You don't want to see it, Lily."
Lily hugged her knees. "There's something I don't understand, though. Why so many kids? And why are they out in the wild? Why aren't they with their parents?"
Sirius's face darkened. "I can think of answers, Lily. And they aren't nice."
Lily sighed. "I know. Unfortunately, they're probably true."
***
It was three in the afternoon. Remus wanted to be finishing pruning the flutterby bush and maybe shoveling dragon dung around Ripspot's herb garden. But instead, he was Apparating to Werewolf Central, because Apunam had sent a letter insisting.
You always arrive so late and leave so early, Anupam had written. I do not think you understand Fenrir's eagerness to get to know you. You must not be so shy. I realize that you still live in the Wizarding world and do not wish to change, but you are still a part of our pack. It had been politely phrased and elegantly written on the back of a discarded takeout menu, and Remus knew he had to answer it. If not, they would begin to wonder why, and Remus was smart enough to know that he didn't want that to happen.
Besides, Dumbledore wanted information. "They might not be full Death Eaters, my boy," he'd said, "but Voldemort still uses them for his purposes. Any information you can give me might save lives." How could Remus refuse that?
The settlement was exactly like it had been last time and the time before. As he approached, the others still regarded him with suspicion and curiosity. Remus had to remind himself that it was understandable; he'd spent less than twenty-four hours in their company, and most of that had been as a wolf. Add to that the fact he felt well-dressed in a dirt-stained robe, and he was one of the few people there with a wand… and well, he did stand out.
Anupam came to greet him with a smile and an extended hand. "Remus. I'm so glad you came."
Did I have a choice? Remus wanted to ask. He held back and smiled. "Thank you for inviting me."
"No invitation is ever needed," Anupam said, slipping an arm around Remus's shoulder. "You know you're welcome here."
"An unconditional welcome is something I'm not exactly used to," Remus said, his voice sounding far more bitter than he'd planned.
"No, we know something about that," Anupam said. "I believe you were fired from your last job, am I right?"
Remus didn't answer.
"I must admit, Fenrir and I don't share opinions on your previous employer," Anupam continued.
"On Prewett?"
"No, on Dearborn." The name was sharp, needling a wound that was hidden but unhealed. "Fenrir's loyalty to the Dark Lord transcends many other concerns. As far as he was concerned, Dearborn got what he deserved. But I must admit I was rather sad to hear of his death. A man who would hire a werewolf and even risk his own standing to allow him to keep a job…" Anupam shook his head. "Such men are rare."
Remus's brow furrowed. "The Dark Lord would do that, though, wouldn’t he? That's what I've been told."
Anupam ran a hand through his hair. "Yes," he began, but he hesitated. "But I suppose it depends on what you mean. The Dark Lord sees a place for werewolves in his world, a place where we are free and do not have to succumb to the painful restrictions that others would have us endure. He understands that we are what we are, and that we have our place. After all, how are we different than the tiger or the lion or even the shark? Those are all beasts that present a threat to humans, and yet we Muggles protect them. We-"
"Wait, you're a Muggle?" Apunam nodded. "But why-"
"Muggles talk as well, leaving one with a tarnished reputation, to say the least. And as you know, lycanthropy carries many burdens, most of which are best shared, especially with a friend. But to answer your original question… the Dark Lord has his place for werewolves, and it is more than any one man has ever offered our kind, from what I understand. But I doubt that he would understand a werewolf desiring to be a scientist, or a bank teller."
Remus swallowed hard. "That's quite different than what I was told."
Anupam chuckled. "I didn't say he wouldn't allow it. I just said he wouldn't understand it. Here we are. Fenrir!" he called out as they entered a cave. "Remus is here!"
The cave was messy. There were leaves that had blown in and scattered debris, and Remus wasn't entirely sure if the cracking under his foot was a stick or a small bone. He'd seen Fenrir several times before- a big, unshaven man, bursting out of his robes. The state of his cave wasn't a shock.
The battered tin pot and the two cracked china mugs were, however.
Fenrir emerged from the back of the cave. "Ta, Anupam," he said, and Anupam drifted out of the cave. Fenrir gestured to the firepit. "Sit," he invited Remus.
There were no chairs, so Remus awkwardly folded his legs under him, sitting on the dirt floor of the cave. Fenrir sat down across from him, far more at home. He picked up the pot and poured them both cups of bitter black coffee. He pushed a plate of nuts and berries toward Remus, and scooped up a handful of deep red berries for himself.
"Suppose this is awkward for you," he said around a mouthful of fruit.
"I guess," Remus admitted.
"Anupam says I should tell you about myself. He's right. Went to Hogwarts, you know, just like you."
"Oh." Remus's brow furrowed at the unexpected line of conversation. "What House were you in?"
"Hufflepuff. Something to that old song; I kept my scarf till it fell apart, but I don't have much use for the rest of those duffers these days. Anyway, never any great shakes at magic- not like I hear you are." He looked at Remus with something that almost looked like pride. "So I got me a job. Wasn't anything much, was just tending some animals for a bloke. But I liked it. Then one night, this werewolf comes along and bites me. Just like that. Two years out of Hogwarts, and my life is over."
Remus picked up a nut and nibbled at it.
"Well, you know perfectly well how wizards treat werewolves. Made me change my name, made me check in several times a month, told me I'd be killed if I killed anyone else. Now, that don't all sit right with me. I didn't ask to be bit by no werewolf, and plenty of other things go eating humans and don't get killed for it. Not to mention they don't know what being a werewolf is like. It's nature, see? Can't really change it, am I right?"
"I guess," Remus said around a lump in his throat.
"See, I know you don't totally agree with that. I know you shut yourself up," Fenrir said. "But how much damage does that do you? Ministry don't force other animals to hurt themselves. If the Ministry don't want people dead, they should tell them to stay inside on a full moon, right? So, the Ministry sees no reason to let me live, I see no reason to let them live. I am what I am, and there's no denying it. So. I go on, and I find my place out here, and I find me a pack.
"Course, things develop. Like taste. You have a favorite food, Remus?"
"I guess."
"Course you do. Everyone does. Even animals. And me, well, I like kids. Never made much of a secret of it. It's sort of like preferring veal to beef, Anupam says. Don't know about that, but I do know I like kids. They taste different, real sweet and tender."
"I… I…."
Fenrir snorted. "Sound like Stern, you do. No matter. That's not what's important. What's important is that not all the kids die. Some of 'em live. Not many, but they do.
"You'd think it wouldn't matter to me, right? I mean, I wanted to eat the kid. What's the difference? Well, it does. When one of those little scrappers lives… wow. It says something about that kid. Amazing. And when a kid has that kind of guts, they belong out here. Of course, parents don't usually argue. No one wants a werewolf in their family. So they become mine. My kids."
"Your kids?" Remus whispered.
"Yup. Anyway, I'm told you're a bright lad, so I'm guessing you can see where I'm going with this. Back in 1965 an Auror crossed my path. Not the most considerate of men. Thought he was better than me. Pretentious. Gave me a hard time for something I didn't do, just cause he knew what I was. I don't like that. So, I got revenge. More coffee?"
Remus's hand shook as he extended his mug. "Revenge?" he prompted, even though, deep down, he knew what Fenrir was going to say.
"You really were a very sweet little kid, you know," Fenrir said with a smile. "Didn't really expect you to live. Heck, with your old man, didn't really want you to live. He didn't deserve it. But you did, and you know what? I was proud of you. You had guts."
Remus gave up even trying to speak and concentrated instead on keeping his lunch down.
"You were supposed to come here, you know. Didn't think a man like your father would keep you. Must have been that mother of yours. She was some woman, I'll tell you. I was even sorry to hear that she had to die. Guess I can understand, but still. Sad.
"Anyway, you're here now, and for the past few months I've been wanting to say 'welcome home.' It's been a long time in coming." Fenrir smiled widely, and Remus could see where the berry juice had stained his gums a deep red.
There were a million things he wanted to do. No, there was one thing. He wanted to jump to his feet and run, run so fast that Fenrir would be left behind, and then throw up until nothing was left in his body. He wanted to escape, to cleanse himself, to Obliviate his mind so he could forget everything he'd just been told.
But a calm, quiet voice in his head reminded him that running would result in certain death. Worse. The werewolf sitting in front of him had admitted to biting people for revenge. Who would Fenrir bite if Remus defied him? And if he ran now, what implications would that have to the Death Eaters?
Fortunately, Fenrir seemed to take Remus's silence as emotion, and leaned forward and clapped him on the shoulder. He had a deep, iron musk about him that only increased Remus's nausea, but he managed to smile at the gesture. When he sat back, Fenrir sniffed. Remus became aware that something was expected of him.
"I don't know what to say," he managed.
He was sitting on the floor of a cave, staring at the man who had just confessed to ruining his life and was proud of it. Never in his wildest nightmares had Remus imagined that spying on the Death Eaters would involve this.
And he had never imagined that he'd find himself smiling, and saying the right things.
Fenrir was asking him to tell him about himself, and Remus was. He told him some sketchy details of his young life, his life at Hogwarts, and the sort of treatment he'd received since. The bitterness in his voice when he spoke of the years post-Hogwarts was not entirely faked, and he hated himself for that, just a little.
***
The sun was close to setting when Sirius finally spotted Remus, stepping out from a cave. He was with a big, burly, hairy man that had a very feral look about him, and Sirius didn't like him at all. He growled, deep in his throat. James cocked his head towards Sirius, but Sirius just shook his head at James's inquisitive look. Not that he could exactly communicate perfectly, given that a canine throat didn't vocalize nearly as well as a human one did, but he knew James was unhinged enough.
He watched Remus carefully, but Remus didn't look over at them, even though he knew that they'd be there. His face looked strange. Sirius couldn't put his finger on the expression, but he didn't like it at all.
The moon was about to rise. On James's antlers, Peter twitched his tail nervously.
The transformation was just as horrible this time as it had always been, to Sirius's eyes. But this time, he was able to tear his eyes away from Remus and at least glance at the others. And when he did, he couldn't blame James for turning his head away. Watching their best friend undergo this kind of pain was horrible. Watching a child do it was ten times worse. Sirius made a mental note to be extra nice to Damien tomorrow, and then the night's work began in earnest.
It had never been this hard. Remus was vicious, even more so than he'd been the first time he'd transformed with the werewolves. There was an edge to his howl that Sirius had never heard before, something that might be anger and might be pain and might be bloodlust, but raised the hairs on his neck and made him want to turn tail and run.
The werewolves weren't hunting as a pack tonight. Instead, they were splintering into several smaller groups. Remus made a gray wolf, and therefore was often hard to spot as at least half the other wolves were gray as well. Sirius scanned the masses of fur and tails and legs, searching.
A small wolf came up to them, curious and playful. Sirius froze. In the few times they'd done this, they'd never been noticed before. The wolf wagged its tail and growled playfully at Sirius. It yipped, rolling over a few times and wagging his tail again.
James lowered his nose slowly, and the wolf batted at it with his paw. The invitation to play was clear, and Sirius could see it broke his best friend's heart.
An older wolf spotted them and growled at the young wolf. Sirius held his breath as the older wolf noticed them and cocked his head. He studied them for what felt like a long time, and then nudged the younger wolf away and went on.
An angry squeaking at Sirius's feet brought him back to the present. Peter was dashing away a few feet and then running back, nipping at Sirius's paws. The message was clear. Remus had gone that way.
Sirius shook himself, picked Peter up by the scruff of the neck in his mouth (ignoring Peter's indignant squeaks), and took off, running down the hill and skidding to avoid crashing into trees. The wolves had a head start, and they knew the woods far better.
He heard the screams before they reached the pack. A man, from the sounds of things. Sirius thought his heart would explode, but he increased his speed anyway. He wondered irrelevantly that his feet didn't tangle together, but he found himself there, watching the pack tear an unfortunate soul to shreds.
He'd never vomited before as a dog, and was surprised to find it was easier than as a human.
There was a gray wolf in the center, eating the stomach of the man that the pack had killed. But when it looked up, blood on his muzzle, both Sirius and Peter heaved a sigh of relief. There was a black patch around one eye, and a black tip on the ear. Not Remus. Peter squeaked apologetically, and Sirius sighed heavily with relief.
Thank God Peter was so often wrong.
***
Despite the fact he wanted to feel miserable, Remus couldn't help but notice he had far less of a headache after transformations in the woods. He didn't like to think about it, because not only were the implications terrifying, but it felt intensely disloyal to the friends who had worked so hard to make his life much easier. But it was the truth, and when he woke up the next morning Remus felt stiff, sore, and tired, but otherwise better than he had in a long time on a morning after the full moon.
He was walking back to the encampment when he heard the pounding of feet and excited breath behind him. Stefan nearly tackled him to the ground.
"Did you see? Did you see?"
"Did I see what?" Remus asked, grinning despite himself.
"The dog! There was a dog last night! And a deer!"
Remus's blood ran cold. "Well, it is a forest," he said carefully. "There are probably lots of dogs and deer in it."
"I know," Stefan said. "But I never remember them. These must have been magic!"
"I don't know if that's how magic works," Remus said, but Stefan was running onward. Remus watched him go, suddenly aware of several aches that hadn't been there before.
"Magic animals," Jakob Stern said, walking up behind him quietly on the pine needles on the forest floor. "Imagine that."
"Lad has quite an imagination," Remus said.
"So he does. Except… I remember seeing them, too."
"Really?" Remus was amazed his voice didn't crack.
"It was very odd," Stern said. He sounded older than Remus had ever heard him sound. "Like… I was still me. Like there was a bit of human in me still. It was only when they were around, though. Just that one moment is all I really remember. Well, all I want to remember."
Remus understood that. It wasn't a truth that he never remembered anything from the transformations- not really. Just impressions of smells and feelings and tastes and touches, mingled together on a blood-red background. It was the kind of thing his nightmares had always been made of.
He watched Stern walk on, briskly enough to catch up with the enthusiastic Stefan. He felt torn, torn between wanting his friends to have safety and wanting these people to have sanity.
And he knew which he was going to have to choose.
***
"Did you see him?" James moaned for the twelfth time that morning. "Sirius, he was so small. He couldn't have been any more than eleven!"
"That's the same age Remus was when we met him," Sirius reminded James firmly.
He didn't understand why he was so annoyed with James. Yes, the concept of a child as a werewolf was utterly horrendous. Sirius could admit that. And yet… and yet….
Remus had been a child werewolf. Remus had survived, humanity intact.
"We should do something," James was saying. "There has to be a way."
Sirius looked at Lily, who was biting her lip. Peter sighed heavily, and said what all three of them were thinking.
"Prongs, Remus told us there are several kids. Several. There's only the three of us. And if we get too close to anyone besides Remus, we might be caught."
"Damn being caught! We should do what's right!"
"What's right would be telling Dumbledore," Peter pointed out. "What's right would be getting those kids out of the wild and into Hogwarts."
"What's right would be if those kids were with their parents," Lily interjected.
Peter nodded acknowledgement. "But we can't tell Dumbledore, because then the three of us- and Remus- have some very inconvenient questions to answer that could very well land all of us in Azkaban, where we're unable to help anybody. There's nothing we can do on this one, James. You can't save the world."
Sirius didn't know if he agreed about Peter's last sentiment, but he was speaking common sense. "We've just got to stick to helping Moony," he said. "James, these werewolves aren't like Remus, from what he says. A lot of them accept it. Some of them even enjoy it. Remus doesn't. We just have to keep him from killing anyone."
"It's not enough," James said.
"It's going to have to be," Sirius replied.
***
He should go home. Remus knew that. He could Apparate right home, take a long, hot shower, and curl up with a mug of hot chocolate and a bowl of the soup Lily always left for him. He could sleep in the bed he shared with Sirius, wrapped in soft quilts and clean sheets, and when Sirius came home he'd slip in beside him and Remus could always beg a backrub off him. He should go home.
Instead, he Apparated to his father's flat.
His father wasn't home. At work, Remus was sure. He moved about the flat restlessly. It looked very much like it had when Damien had moved in a year ago. (Had it been a year already? It shouldn't have been. It didn't feel like it.) There were no pictures or personal touches added to the walls, and few little comforts beyond what Damien had bought at the beginning. It bothered Remus that the sight of a rather hideous coffee mug that his mother never would have let near her house brought him some comfort.
He looked through the kitchen, but there wasn't much edible. Some tins that heated up instantly when you opened them, but Remus had never cared for the brand. (Cardboard would have been preferable.) A few items in the freezer claiming to be pizzas, but he didn't believe them. And several beers in the refrigerator. Remus opened one of them, but found himself unable to drink much. He settled in his father's armchair and stared at the wall until his eyes grew heavy.
The sound of his father moving about woke him up. Remus stood up at the same time his father walked in. Damien raised his wand, and then dropped it to his side.
"Remus. You scared me half to death."
His father looked like a stranger to him. "I met Fenrir Greyback yesterday," he blurted with no preamble.
Damien's eyes narrowed, and his knuckles turned white as he clenched his wand. "How the hell did you do that?"
"Does it matter? What did you do?"
"What did I do?"
Remus suddenly realized that the nausea he'd been fighting wasn't nervousness, but rage. "Yes, Dad. What did you do? He told me, you know. That it was revenge when he bit me."
Damien took a deep breath. "You might want to consider that what would be offensive to a werewolf who would bite children for revenge is probably acceptable to the rest of society."
"That doesn't matter!" Remus retorted. "You did something that pissed him off. What the hell did you do?"
"Why does it matter?"
"Because it ruined my life!" Remus shouted. "YOU ruined my life by doing whatever it was you did!"
Damien pulled back, stung. "You have no idea what you're talking about."
"Oh, don't give me that self-righteous crap. He told me you accused him of doing something he didn't do just because he was a werewolf!"
"Well, excuse me for not being a part of the Werewolf Liberation Front at the time! And besides-"
"You should have known better!" Remus shouted. "You should have known what he'd do!"
"With my crystal ball? With my Divination skills!"
"Dad, I've seen the number of kids at his camp! And those are the ones that survived!"
"And it's sixteen years after you've been bitten, Remus! You survived just fine! And what were you doing at his camp, anyway?"
Something in Remus's mind kicked into caution. "I can't answer that."
"Then why should I answer you?"
"Because what I'm doing doesn't affect your life! What you did FUCKED UP MINE! YOU brought this all on me. YOU, because you were too fucking arrogant to check your facts and find out who did… WHATEVER! YOU DID THIS!!!"
The scream ripped out of him, a product of sixteen years of wanting someone to blame. Sixteen years of a life that was riddled with pain and hate and fear. Sixteen years of blaming a nameless face, of hating someone he couldn't see. And now that he could see him, Fenrir Greyback once again held his life in balance, and if he ever detected Remus's anger, death would surely follow shortly after.
Damien closed his eyes. It was an expression that Marilyn or Sirius would have recognized as him controlling his temper, but Remus was too angry to see it.
"Get out," Damien finally said, through clenched teeth.
"No. Not this time. I want an answer."
"No, you want a scapegoat. Get out."
Remus opened his mouth, but nothing came out. Not because he couldn't think of anything to say- he could think of lots of things- but because his vocal chords had been frozen. He shot his father a glare and stormed out, slamming the door so hard the plaster above the molding cracked.
There was a stiff wind blowing a few early fallen leaves about. The sky was already growing dark. The logical, reasonable part of Remus told him to walk home, calm down, and talk to Sirius. But he ignored it. He was sick of logical and reasonable. Where had that gotten him? Nowhere he wanted to be, he told himself angrily. Absolutely nowhere.
Sirius would be out late, anyway. He'd told Remus he needed to meet with Alice Longbottom and catch her up on some of what she'd missed during her maternity leave. And besides… besides. He stuffed his hands angrily in his pockets and stormed towards James's place. But when he got there, it was Lily who opened the door.
"Where's James?" he demanded without preamble.
"Remus, you look terrible. Have you slept at all today?"
"No. Lily, where's James?"
Lily sighed. "He's with Professor Dumbledore. He's planning on being out for a while."
"And Harry?"
"Harry went with him."
Normally, Remus would have laughed at the image of James planning anti-Death Eater strategy with a diaper bag, a bottle, and a baby attached to his person. Now, he found himself studying Lily with the sudden realization that he hadn't come here to talk to James, even if that's what he had originally thought.
"Remus? Are you all right?"
"No," he admitted heavily, sitting down.
"What happened? James told me everything went all right last night."
"No, it didn't, but that's not important."
"Did you…?" Lily trailed off, a worried expression on her face.
"Oh. No. Not at all." He clenched his hands tightly in his lap. "Lily, I met the werewolf who bit me."
"Oh." Lily sank down into the chair opposite him. "Oh."
"He told me why he did it, Lily. And then he told me…" his stomach contorted at the memory of Fenrir's voice telling him how he'd tasted. He wanted to howl, to scream, to vomit, to do something to take that awful memory away. Something. But he couldn't. He stared at Lily.
Lily just sat there, eyes clear and focused on him. "He told you what?" she finally asked.
The words dragged themselves out of him. "How I tasted."
"Oh. Oh God. Remus, I… I don't know what to say."
He made a face. "I guess not." He twisted in the chair, unable to get remotely comfortable and finally getting up to prowl around the room. He picked up a Sneakoscope, turning it over and over in his hands. "Course, I didn't know what to say to you last year. I guess now I know how you felt."
"It's not the same thing, Remus," Lily said in a low, clipped voice, her eyes narrowing.
"Sure it is. It's the same idea of someone violating you for their own pleasure. The same being weak and powerless and not being able to fight back."
"Remus, shut up."
"The same sickness once you know that you were used," he continued ruthlessly. He turned around to see that she'd risen out of her chair, her face white and her lips pressed together. "Sirius won't get it and James doesn't get it and Peter could never even imagine it and my father- well, fuck my father- but you, Lily. It's the same thing."
"It is not!" Lily ground out. "I'm not saying it's any less horrible, but becoming a werewolf and being raped are not the same thing! You didn't go through what I went through any more than I went through what you're going through! I'm happy to listen, I'll gladly help you, but stop saying you understand exactly what happened to me because something shitty happened to you!"
"Well, that's real empathetic," Remus snapped.
"You want empathy? You've got an entire community of werewolves!"
"Werewolves who have no problem with being werewolves! Werewolves who want to be werewolves!"
"Yes, I'm sure that was the career ambition of the kids James saw last month," Lily snapped acidly. "But you're missing the point, Remus. I am more than happy to listen to you, sympathize with you, and do anything I can to help you, but you don't get to tell me that what we went through was the same thing!"
"You don't get it!"
"You don't want me to get it! You just want to piss me off!"
Remus felt his face distorting into a scowl, almost as if he wasn't really involved in the situation. "What do you know?"
Lily pulled herself up and took a step in closer. "I know that if you really wanted to talk about this, you'd talk about what you were feeling, not what I'm feeling. You'd be telling me what happened. And you know what? I've got an idea. Oh, sure, I don't know the details. But I know that you're ashamed. And you hate yourself now, not that you ever liked yourself much to begin with. But you want to make good and sure I hate you too, because then you can feel justified in feeling sorry for yourself. Well, guess what, buddy. You don't get to do that. Get out of here." Lily pushed him in the chest, hard. "Get out of here and get your shit together, and don't you ever, ever presume to know what I'm thinking again. You tell me how YOU are, and I will fucking tell you if I understand or not. Now get the hell out."
He got the hell out, slamming the door behind him.
He walked down the streets, hands shoved deep in his pockets and his robe flaring out with his stride. There was something restless deep within him, something that wouldn't let him stop, wouldn't let him think. His movements took him home.
He intended to storm into the flat, to shout and rage until Sirius understood what was wrong. But the flat was dark.
There was no note on the table, and his father hadn't mentioned anything. Sirius knew that he'd be home… didn't he? He felt the first shaft of fear. It was irrational, but he began to wonder what if Sirius knew.
The thought made his knees go weak and forced him to sit down and bury his face in his hands, unable to face Sirius's flat, much less Sirius himself. He stayed like that until his back began to ache and his stomach began to growl, and then for lack of anything else to do he made his way to the kitchen to investigate dinner.
Lily had left a pot of soup as usual, but Remus found he wanted to be busy. So when Sirius came in, disheveled and tired, he found Remus hunched over a cookbook, chopping vegetables for a jambalaya.
"That smells good," he said, leaning on the doorjamb.
Remus looked up and smiled briefly. "Thanks. It should be ready by the time you're done with your shower."
"Are you saying I need one?" Sirius asked, with mock affront.
Remus just smiled and dumped the last of the celery into the sizzling pot. Sirius stepped into the kitchen and kissed him on the cheek. Remus felt himself stiffening.
"Hey. Are you okay?"
"Yeah. I'm fine. Go. Shower."
Sirius saluted and left. The sounds of him moving in the flat were normally comforting, but tonight they set Remus on edge. He shook his head and checked the recipe one last time before retreating to one of the kitchen chairs to brood.
Sirius emerged from the bathroom before the food was done. "That really smells good," he repeated, and came over to sit down at the table. "You, however, do not. Didn't you take a shower?"
"No," Remus realized. "I didn't."
Sirius studied him more carefully, but as he looked at him, Remus could see the dark circles under his eyes as well. "You don't look good. Have you rested at all today?"
"A little. Over at my father's flat."
"Your father's flat? Moony, is something wrong?"
"No. Maybe I should go take that shower. Will you wait for dinner?"
"Sure." Sirius waved him away, but the look on his face said they weren't done discussing this. Remus sighed and retreated.
He felt oddly detached from himself as he went through the routine motions of a shower, even though the warm water felt unbelievably good on his sore muscles. The detachment wouldn't let him think too deeply about his father or Lily, although a little voice known as reason told him Sirius was going to hear about his behavior from both those sources. The knowledge tugged at him, but he ignored it and shut off the water.
Sirius had set the table and was reading the paper by the time he emerged. "Well, you smell better, at least," he said with a lopsided grin. Remus smiled back but didn't say anything. "Thanks for making dinner," Sirius said after a long silence.
"You're welcome."
They sat down at the table, and Remus fixed his eyes on the food. "How was your day?" he managed to ask Sirius. "You look exhausted."
"It was all right. Remus, what happened?"
"It's nothing." Remus stabbed a piece of chicken with far more force than required.
"You can tell me about it," Sirius pleaded. "Can't you?"
"You can drop it," Remus snapped. "Can't you?"
"I don't know. I thought we were supposed to trust each other and talk to each other."
"Funny. I thought we were supposed to respect each other and understand each other."
They glared at each other across the table.
Sirius clenched his fork. "I can't understand what's happening if you don't tell me," he ground out slowly.
"I can't talk about it," Remus responded, equally on edge.
Sirius looked down at his plate, and then slammed down his silverware. "It's late," he said, although it wasn't. "I'm going to bed."
"Fine."
Remus watched him go. As he left the kitchen, Sirius hesitated by the doorjamb, as if he was waiting for Remus to call after him and tell him he changed his mind, but Remus remained resolutely silent. He heard Sirius close the door of their bedroom, and eventually settle onto the bed.
The only reason he finished eating was because his stomach demanded it, but the food tasted like ashes in his mouth. He finished, tidied the kitchen, and put the uneaten food away, including Sirius's portion. He did the dishes that were left from God only knew when, wiped down the counters and, just for good measure, swept and mopped the floor and cleaned all the shelves in the refrigerator. When the kitchen was sparkling, he finally admitted he was exhausted. Far too exhausted to take the extra ten steps to their bedroom, he thought, as he flopped down on the couch.
The hand on his cheek woke him from a fitful doze punctuated with nightmares. Remus sat bolt upright, fumbling for his wand. Sirius held it up, lit at the tip.
"Looking for this?" he asked softly.
Remus relaxed. "Yeah."
"I know what you mean. With the way things are these days, it's hard not to want your wand right by you all the time, isn't it?" Sirius's voice was smooth, gentle, and soft. Remus studied him carefully. It wasn't a way he'd heard Sirius speak before, at least, not too often. "And it must be worse for you. I saw where you were last night, Remus, remember? Something happened there. Will you tell me what it was?"
"I can't," Remus whispered, looking away. "Not because of secrets, but because I can't. I can't say it."
Sirius fixed his eyes on Remus, leaning in and pinning Remus's arms against the couch. I can't tell you, Remus wanted to say. You'd never look at me the same way again. But the words wouldn't form around the lump in his throat.
"You make it hard to love you, sometimes," Sirius whispered, but then his mouth was covering Remus's. Remus seized Sirius's shoulders, kissing back roughly, surprised at his own response. Sirius shifted to pull him closer, and Remus dug his nails into cloth and flesh as he bit Sirius's lower lip. Sirius pulled back, shook his head once, and then grabbed Remus's wrists and pressed them against the couch.
A thrill passed through Remus's body. This was what he wanted right now, for Sirius take him and use him. He wanted it to hurt. He wanted to lose himself in it, for this to be angry and raw.
But although Sirius held him down, his kisses were deliberately gentle. He pulled away from Remus's teeth and refused to be drawn into anger. He arranged matters so that he had one hand holding down Remus's wrists, and the other hand moved with tenderness over Remus's body. Despite himself, Remus found his heartbeat slowing down, the anger and adrenaline ebbing away. Then there was only Sirius, naked and warm, pressing down on him, moving inside of him more gently than he usually did.
He remembered a night, long ago, when Sirius had read that his father left the Ministry of Magic. He remembered Sirius's hesitation and withdrawal, and his own physical insistence. And when they were done, he had to look away so that Sirius wouldn't see the tears running down his cheeks.
"It's all right," Sirius whispered, wiping Remus's cheek with a bare palm. "Whatever happened, we'll get through this."
Remus nodded as if he believed him.
***
Sirius had a headache, and the roar of the motorbike only made it worse.
Last night had been an unqualified near-disaster. Why couldn't Remus tell him what had happened? He was only his lover, damn it. But even after doing everything he could to reassure Remus and convince him that he was still there, Remus still didn't tell him. He'd only looked away and closed it all inside, whatever it was. And it couldn't be that bad, Sirius thought grumpily. He and James and Peter had made sure Remus didn't eat anyone, and what could be worse?
He stormed into the Ministry, not in the mood for pleasant chatter or offers of coffee. Of course, with the atmosphere of worry and danger, not many people were in the mood for either. If they were, they were either faking it or Voldemort's supporters. Or really dumb, Sirius thought, which was always a possibility.
There was a pile of folders on his desk and three memos, two of which were long and drawn out and contained a lot of official language. Sirius sighed and tossed his cloak over his chair and sat down, pulling the first one to him. A half hour later, he'd read the first page about twelve times and it still hadn't sunk in.
He was almost grateful when a loud bang forced him to look up, but far less grateful when he saw that it was Damien randomly shoving chairs aside. As he approached, Sirius was suddenly taken back to sixth year and had to remind himself that he hadn't done anything wrong this time.
"I need you to look at the Nott case file first, and then the Carrow one. Doge asked us to move those up to top priority," Damien snapped with no preamble.
"Yes, sir."
"I also have some information for you on the incident that happened over in Hellington Alley. Review it before lunch."
"Yes, sir."
"Make sure you're at the seminar on defensive techniques. Especially you, since you're so wary about using Unforgivable Curses."
"Yes, sir." Sirius glanced down at his schedule and noticed that it was marked for ten o'clock. This was going to be a full morning. When he looked up, Damien's face was still stormy. Sirius decided he'd better say something before he was saddled with any more work for the morning. "Are you all right, sir?"
"What's with the 'sir' business?" Damien demanded suspiciously. "You haven't called me sir in months."
Sirius shrugged. "You just seem… upset."
Damien scowled. "I'm upset because I am apparently the worst, most worthless scum to ever walk this earth," he snarled. "I'm sure you heard all about it." Sirius shook his head, but Damien just snorted unbelievingly. "Have your expense reports on my desk for review in an hour," he snapped, and then stormed off with uneven steps.
"Who pissed in his tea this morning?" Moody growled.
Sirius spun in his chair. "I didn't know you were there."
"Didn't want you to. Don't go to the seminar. It's all stuff you know already anyway."
"But Damien said-"
"Never mind. I'll make your excuses for you. Get the other stuff done."
Sirius looked at the pile on his desk. "Thank you."
"So what's this all about?"
"I don't know." Moody fixed him with an intense, knowing stare, and Sirius shook his head. "I really don't! Remus wouldn't tell me a thing last night. I didn't even really know that they had a fight. I just know Remus went over to his house after he left-" Sirius shut his mouth abruptly.
Moody nodded. "Best not to say it, lad, but Dumbledore told me where he was last night. Lupin give you any names?"
No, but Sirius thought of the names he'd heard while there. "Anupam, but no last name." Moody nodded. "Jakob Stern. I knew that one already. Stefan something- Wolfsblood, maybe. Fenrir Greyback."
Moody was a man who didn't often show his reactions, so Sirius noticed it when he pulled back as if the last name struck him physically. "Greyback?"
"Yeah, that's what he said."
"He say anything more about Greyback?"
"No. Nothing. Why are you so interested in Greyback?"
Moody rubbed his chin. "Can't really say. Well, won't really say. But if I was you, Black, I might visit the Werewolf Registry and ask someone to tell me some stories about Greyback. But not now. You've got work to do. Get it done. I'm going to go find Damien." And with that he stomped off.
If Sirius hadn't valued his life, he'd have compared them to two girls going to the bathroom together to gossip. But he did like living, so he shook his head and turned to the mountain of work that Damien wanted done in the next three hours. He'd go to the Werewolf Registry late this afternoon.
On to Part 2
