Harry Potter 1. Big Bad Dog

_A/N:__  Whenever I read the incantations in the HP books, I'm grateful that I had the opportunity to study Latin in high school.  It was many years ago, and I don't remember as much as I should, but there is one phrase I remember: "Cave Canem" (kah-vey kay-nem), which means "Beware of the dog."  Lately, I've been thinking about the phrase in relation to our favorite dog, Padfoot._

_And since Remus is in this story too, I've included two other Latin phrases in this story, "Cave Lupum," which means "Beware of the wolf," and "Amamus Lupum," which means "We love the wolf."  Thank you to Blaise for correcting my Latin. _

_This story is dedicated to Magestra Denise Schon, the teacher who made me love Latin._

**Disclaimer:**  Lily and all the male characters are not mine; they belong to J.K. Rowling, of course.

Cave Canem

Chapter One: Big Bad Dog

            Sirius Black leaned back against the bar and looked out at the crowded dance floor and then at the small tables around the edges of the room.  Somewhere in this club was someone who could make the evening memorable.  Last night, he had hunted as Padfoot; tonight he hunted as Sirius.  Why not?  He had, of course, been awake all night enjoying the full moon with his friends, but he had slept all day and was now ready for another night of fun.  

Then he saw a woman in a silky pale blue dress.  It was tight enough to show the curves of her breasts and her hips, but just loose enough that he could imagine it slipping down her body to lay in a silky puddle at her feet.  She was standing completely still as dancers all around her writhed to the pounding music.  She gazed at Sirius, a half smile on her lips.  When he smiled back, she lifted her hand and beckoned him with her finger.  Sirius didn't care if he was the hunter or the hunted tonight.  He went to her.

Two hours later and Sirius had danced with no one else.  He still didn't know her name.  The music was too loud for conversation, and they seemed to be getting along just fine without it.  He did need to get to a drink though; dancing made him thirsty.  He took her by the hand and led her toward the bar; he wasn't going to let her slip away while he got their drinks.  When they reached the bar, she looked at her watch and shook her head.  She then slipped a small card into his hand, kissed him, and disappeared into the crowd.  He strained to see her in the mass of dancers, but she had vanished.  He knew one way to beat her to the exit.  He plunged into the crowd himself and disapparated. In a crowd of moving bodies like this one, no one would notice that one person had vanished.  He reappeared in the alley beside the club and walked the short distance around to the front where he waited by the door for his mystery woman to exit.  

After fifteen minutes, he gave up.  She had obviously slipped through the crowd more quickly than he had expected and left before he had gotten outside.  Sirius looked then at the small card she had given him.  He had met enough Muggle women at clubs like this one to be familiar with their business cards and calling cards.  He expected to learn her name and telephone number.  (They always found it strange that he didn't have a telephone himself.)   There was nothing preprinted on this card, but she had written, "Be here three nights from now."

* * * * *

            "What does she look like?" Remus asked.  The music in the club was as loud as it had ever been, but Remus had surreptitiously cast a charm around himself and Sirius to muffle the sound and allow them to speak more easily.

            "Long dark hair, killer body, and a naughty smile," Sirius replied. Remus smiled at this—a female version of Sirius himself. 

Sirius was searching the crowd with his eyes. Every time he glimpsed pale blue, he looked closely.  He knew it was pointless.  Women had a silly habit of never being seen wearing the same clothes twice in a row.  He didn't know why.  He himself was wearing tight black jeans and a black tee-shirt just as he had been three nights ago.  They were comfortable (as comfortable as Muggle clothes could be), and he knew that he looked good in them—why mess with success?

"I think I found her," Remus said. "Coming toward us from ten o'clock."  Sirius looked where directed and saw her smiling at him.  Tonight she was wearing black.

"Find a table, Moony.  We'll join you after this song."  Sirius headed into the crowd to meet her.

"After two or three songs," Remus said with a smile.

Two songs later, Sirius and the woman joined Remus at a small table.  Remus had brought over his and Sirius's drinks and had gotten a third.  As Sirius sat down, he heard the volume of the music drop suddenly.  For one brief moment, he thought that the DJ had turned down the volume, and then he looked at Remus in surprise.  Remus didn't usually risk using magic around Muggles.

"As much as I like the music," the woman said, "it is nice to hear one's self think."  She smiled at Remus.

"I agree," said Remus as he returned the smile.

She now looked at Sirius with her mischievous half smile.  "Well, you got two dances as your reward for coming tonight, but if you want to dance with me again, you have to say my name."

Sirius was dumbfounded.  He had no idea what her name might be.  If she had told him at their last meeting, and he didn't think she had, he definitely hadn't been able to hear it.  The situation reminded him of a story in the book of Muggle fairy tales that his parents had read to him as a child, but he didn't think "Rumpelstiltskin" would be appropriate.  Maybe he could call her "Cinderella" in honor of the way she escaped from him the last time they had danced.

"I'm sorry," he said with a shrug and with what he hoped was a charming smile.

            "Hello, Gwen," said Remus.

            "Hello, Remus.  Want to dance?"

            Sirius burst into laughter as Gwen took Remus by the hand and led him to the dance floor.  So, Remus already knew this mystery woman.  He watched them dance with only a small pang of jealousy.  He'd give up almost anything or anyone in the world if it meant that Remus could be happy, but he hoped he wouldn't have to give up this particular someone.  Just then, Gwen caught his eye and smiled a dazzling smile.  Sirius smiled too.  He knew then that she'd be coming back to him.

            Sirius pulled out her chair when he saw them returning and left his hand on the back of her chair.  Gwen snuggled back against his arm as she took a sip of her drink.

            "Ooh, it's yummy.  Thank you," she said to Remus.  "What's it called?"

            Sirius thought the drink looked familiar, something Lily and her friends had raved over.  When he saw Remus drop his eyes to his own glass with a slight smile, he knew that he had guessed correctly.

            "Yes, Remus.  Tell the lady what her drink is called," he teased.

            "Sex on the beach," Remus said and then added with a shrug, "Well, Lily likes it."

            "Is Lily your girlfriend?" Gwen asked.  Both Remus and Sirius laughed.

            "She'd better not be," Sirius said as he playfully punched Remus's shoulder with his free hand.

            "She just married our friend James," Remus explained to Gwen.  "Do you remember Lily Evans or James Potter?"

            "He was on your house's Quidditch team, wasn't he?  Glasses and dark hair?"

            "Whoa—wait a minute!" Sirius exclaimed as he pulled away from Gwen to better see her face. "You were at Hogwarts with us?  How on earth do I not remember someone as beautiful as you?"

            "Gwen was a Ravenclaw and two years ahead of us—out of even your league, Sirius," Remus explained.  "I used to study with some of the Ravenclaws in the library, so I remember her more easily than you."

            "Remus is just being kind," Gwen said.  "The truth is, _you don't remember me because I didn't look quite the same then as I do now.  Mum calls me 'a late bloomer'."_

            "Contact lenses?" Remus asked.  

            Gwen nodded. "And a lot of dieting and dancing.  Speaking of which?"  She looked up at Sirius with the question in her eyes.  Sirius nodded with a grin and led her back to the dance floor.

* * * * *

            "Dinner was delicious," Gwen said with a contented smile.  "Where did you learn to cook so well?"

            "Mostly from my mum, but some from my dad, too."  Sirius carried their plates to the sink and with a flick of his wand started them washing themselves.  Gwen rose from the table and went over to look at the large Muggle-style photograph on the wall—a full moon rising over a forest.  "Dad once told me that he won my mum's heart with breakfast in bed," Sirius said laughing.  "Mum blushed bright red."

            "I'd like to meet your parents.  Your dad sounds a lot like you."  Gwen turned to watch Sirius open a second bottle of wine.

            A shadow seemed to pass over his face and he nodded.  "He was.  He was killed a couple of years ago—Death Eaters—he worked for the ministry."

            "Oh, I'm sorry, Sirius."  Gwen went over to him and wrapped her arms around him, her head against his chest.  "I can't understand the Death Eaters." Her voice was bitter.  "Voldemort I understand.  He's a power hungry sociopath.  But why anyone would follow him, that I can't understand."

            Sirius put a hand under her chin and tipped her face up to his.  "This is for your righteous indignation."  He kissed her cheek.  "This is for having the guts to say 'Voldemort' instead of 'You-Know-Who'."  He kissed her other cheek.  "And this is because you smell so damn good."  

The next kiss was long and slow and deep.  Gwen lost awareness of anything beyond themselves.  For a few moments there was nothing in the world except the warmth of his mouth and the feel of his strong body pressed against her own.  Then the tiny portion of her brain still capable of thought urged, "Slow down."  She pushed away feebly and Sirius pulled back from her as if he understood.  He kept his arms around her, as they both stood breathing each other's breath and looking into each other's eyes.  The knowing smile on his face made her suspect that the next time he wouldn't allow her to pull back.

Gwen had only known Sirius for a few weeks, and even as wonderful as those weeks had been, she hadn't yet decided that she was ready to sleep with him.  However, another kiss like that one and her body would join her heart in overruling her brain.  She smiled, pulled away from him, and settled on the sofa, one leg tucked beneath her.  Sirius watched her, the knowing smile still on his face, and then refilled their wineglasses.

             "My breakfasts are even better than my dinners," he said as he handed Gwen her glass and sat beside her.  Gwen smiled and looked at the embroidered pillow beside her, stalling for time as she considered her response to his proposition.

            "Cave Canem," she read aloud from the pillow.  

Sirius chuckled softly and said, "Lily gave that to me for Christmas last year."

            "Beware of the dog?  But, you don't have a dog."

            Sirius's laughter rang through the flat.  Gwen loved his laugh but felt at a loss to understand it this time.

            "Think back to astronomy class, darling," he whispered as he began to kiss her neck. Gwen felt a strange ache in the small of her back as he kissed her. "What does 'Sirius' mean?"

            "The Dog Star—oh, I'm supposed to beware of _you, aren't I?"_

            "Lily thought it only fair," he pulled the dress off her shoulder and began to kiss her collarbone and shoulder as well, "to warn her fellow females about the big bad dog."  He looked into her pale grey eyes.

  "But I'm just a cuddly puppy, don't you think?"

            "No, Sirius," she looked away just long enough to put down her wineglass safely, "you are a big bad dog, but I think I like big bad dogs.  So, I have just two questions." Sirius briefly wondered if he'd be capable of answering them.  The way Gwen's hand was stroking his thigh was very distracting.  "When is your flatmate coming home tonight?  And just how good are your breakfasts?"

            Sirius smiled.  "Remus will be out of town for at least two nights, and you can judge breakfast for yourself."  Smiling, Gwen began to pull his shirt free of the waistband of his jeans.  When Sirius growled at her invitingly, they both laughed.

* * * * *

"Why do they always go to the bathroom in packs?"  Sirius wondered as he watched Lily, Gwen, and Gwen's friend Celia disappear into the crowd of the pub.

"To talk about us, of course," said Remus as he toyed with his glass of beer.  He had been nursing the same glass since they had arrived at the pub, but Sirius and James knew that was just as well.  They had only seen Remus drunk once, and it was an episode none of them wanted to repeat.  

"Just be glad they do.  It gives us a chance to talk about them, too.  Well, Remus?" James peered over the top of his glasses as if to give emphasis to his interrogation.  Remus smiled slightly at this.  He knew that James couldn't see him clearly that way.

"Well, what, James?"

"What do you think of Celia?"  James had raised his chin and was now looking through his glasses at Remus, intent on catching whatever unguarded emotions might show on Remus's face.  Remus thought for a moment about his answer.  Many times he had told Sirius, James, and Lily to stop fixing him up in this manner, but still they persisted.

"I think there is a very good chance that she would run screaming out of here if you told her the truth about me."  Remus looked away from the now frowning James and looked at Sirius.  Sirius was watching for Gwen's return, a smile on his face.  Remus suspected that he hadn't heard a word that had just passed between James and himself.  "James, why don't we just enjoy that fact that you and Lily are blissful newlyweds, and that Sirius has finally found someone to hold his interest for longer than a month.  Nine weeks—it's a record for him.  You don't need to find someone for me, honest."  He took a sip of his beer.  "If you guys really want to play Cupid, find someone for Peter."

Sirius had been listening, to every word.  "Yeah, I'll ask Gwen if she knows anyone _mousy," Sirius said with a grin as he faced his friends again.  James and Remus laughed.  The animal jokes had begun again._

"What I want to know, Padfoot, does Gwen enjoy it _doggy…" James abruptly broke off as Lily, Gwen, and Celia drew near._

"James is starting to blush," Lily announced as she slid into her seat.  "What did we miss?"

"Animal jokes," Remus said simply.

"Ah," Lily said with a knowing smile.  Sirius looked into his third glass of beer with an enormous grin.  He seemed to be trying not to speak, and was about to lose the battle.

"Well, _dear James," Sirius said as he raised his eyes to James's face, "it keeps one's sex life from getting __stagnant."  James and Sirius both burst into peals of laughter.  Lily and Remus smiled at each other and then at the two confused witches._

"Don't worry, Gwen," Lily said. "James and Sirius's most appreciative audience has always been James and Sirius themselves.  You'll get used to it."

"Yes, they leave each other _howling with laughter," Remus added with a self-conscious smile._

"Me, _howl?  No," James said. "Sirius, absolutely."_

* * * * *

            Later that night, Gwen lay beside Sirius, her head on his shoulder, and her bare leg draped over his.

            "I think Celia liked Remus.  Do you think he'll ask her out?" she asked.

            "Doubtful," he said and then sighed.  Gwen frowned in the darkness.

            "He didn't like her?"

            "No, it's not that.  It's just—I don't think he'll dare."  He pulled his arm around her more tightly and kissed the top of her head.  She lifted her head to look at Sirius's face, shadowy in the dark bedroom.  

            "You _can't be trying to tell me that Remus lacks self-confidence," she said.  "I remember him at Hogwarts tutoring students in my year, and I heard that by the time you lot graduated, the professor was frequently deferring to Remus's expertise in Defense Against the Dark Arts. You don't put yourself into situations like those if you're insecure."  Sirius laughed at this.  "What's so funny?"  She propped her head up on her hand, her elbow on her pillow._

            "I'm just remembering when we studied werewolves our sixth year," Sirius said.  "Remus started feeding the class misinformation like werewolves being colorblind and being allergic to chocolate, and the professor believed everything he said."  He laughed again.  "I wonder how many Hogwarts graduates still believe the rot he made up that year."  Gwen was suddenly glad that she had already graduated before that prank.

            "But that's my point, Sirius.  He must have appeared confident when he spoke in class.  I know that he was confident in his knowledge and abilities when he tutored people in the library."

            "You're talking about magic; I'm talking about relationships."  Sirius twirled a lock of Gwen's hair around his finger.  "Just because Remus is confident in one doesn't make him confident in the other.  He's so afraid of rejection that he doesn't dare risk falling in love, or even coming close."

            The mischievous half smile reappeared on Gwen's face.  "And you, Sirius?  Do you dare risk falling in love?"  

            Sirius pulled the lock of her hair to his lips and kissed it.  "Lately, I've felt very daring."

            "Good, because my cousin just got engaged—"

            "I'm not feeling _that daring," he interrupted._

            "Nor am I," she replied with a laugh.  "As I was saying, my cousin just got engaged, and her parents are having an engagement party.  You'll come with me to the party, won't you?  I'm dying to show you off to all my relatives." With her free hand, she drew designs on Sirius's bare chest.

"Will you let me get dressed first, or do you want to show off all of me?" he asked laughing.

            She laughed as well.  "Dress robes, actually.  My cousin is an only child, so my aunt and uncle are making a very big deal out of this engagement party.  Catered food, flowers, music, champagne…"

            "We can drink champagne and dance to the music—of course I want to be there with you."  Sirius leaned forward and kissed her neck.  "When is the party?"

            "About three weeks from now, on the fourth."  She lay her head down on the pillow, a feeling of warm contentment coming over her.  She almost felt like purring and wondered what the dog equivalent was.

            "Uh-oh," Sirius muttered.  He sat up and placed his left hand over his right, pulled the top hand away, and revealed flames in his right hand.

            "What's wrong?"  Gwen blinked at the sudden brightness in the dark room.

            "I may have a conflict on the fourth.  Let me check my calendar," Sirius said as he pulled open the drawer of the bedside table. Gwen ran her fingers down his back as she waited for the verdict.  The room suddenly plunged into darkness again and she heard the drawer close.  Sirius lay down and wrapped his arms around her.

            "I'm so sorry, Gwen.  I can't go that night, but I'll make it up to you another night, I promise."

            "Can't you get out of whatever it is?  Or change it to another night?" she pleaded.

            "Change it to another night?" he laughed softly at this thought.  "No, I can't do that."  He kissed her forehead.  "I'm really sorry."

            "At least tell me what pressing business outranks spending the evening dancing with me."  He didn't answer.  "Sirius?"

            "I'm sorry, Gwen.  I'll make it up to you, I promise."

* * * * *

            Gwen awoke to find herself alone in Sirius's bedroom.  From beyond the closed bedroom door came the muffled sounds of two male voices, laughter, and the metallic clang of a heavy pan being put atop the stove.  If Sirius and Remus wanted to make her breakfast, who was she to object?  They really were quite good at it.  She sat up and raised her arms above her head, fingers entwined, and performed a very cat-like stretch.  She swung her legs over the edge of the bed and reached down to the floor to retrieve her bra and blouse.  One sleeve was inside out, and as she corrected it, she found herself staring at the bedside table.

            Gwen hated to snoop—at least she told herself that she did—but she was filled with curiosity about Sirius's previous commitment on the fourth. She put on the bra and was about to put on her blouse.  The temptation was too strong.  She lay the blouse aside, pulled open the drawer, and began looking for an appointment book.  Nothing of the sort was in the drawer.  The only written materials were a few loose papers.  Gwen wasn't sure what to think.  Had Sirius taken the appointment book out of the drawer this morning?  Had he made up the story about a previous commitment because he didn't really want to go to the party?  She had just begun to close the drawer when she realized what the uppermost paper in the drawer was—a chart or calendar of the phases of the moon.  Sirius had said that he was checking a "calendar"; he had been checking this.

            She looked at November fourth, hoping it wouldn't show what she suddenly knew it must.  The full moon—the fourth was the night of the full moon.  And just last week, a coworker had given her two tickets to a play.  Sirius had said that he was doing something with his friends and begged off.  Gwen had taken Celia instead.  According to the chart, that night had been the full moon too.

            Suddenly, so many clues became glaringly obvious in a way they hadn't been just minutes ago.  The incessant jokes about dogs and wolves that Sirius and his friends were always telling.  Sirius's mercurial temperament.  The photograph in the flat's sitting room of the full moon.  Sirius's friend spreading misinformation about werewolves at Hogwarts to Sirius's delight.  Even the pillow that said "Cave Canem" because "Cave Lupum" would have been just too obvious.  Sirius was a werewolf.

            Gwen was horrified.  _"He—it—is a monster, a beast, an animal."_  Her cheeks burned hot with shame as she remembered touching him, caressing him, kissing him.  _"An animal!  I had sex with an animal!"_  Anger replaced shame almost instantly.  _"He tricked me.  He deceived me.  He lied to me.  If I had known, I would never, ever—"_

She had to get out of the flat, and she felt too rattled to apparate safely.  She dressed as quickly as she could and ran out of the bedroom, hoping she could get out of the flat without Sirius trying to stop her.  Luck wasn't with her; he was heading back toward the bedroom.

            "Good morning, Darling.  Breakfast is—wait, what's your hurry?"  He grabbed her arm as she tried to push past him.

            "Don't _touch me—don't you __ever touch me again," she hissed and pulled her arm free.  Sirius was stunned.  He stared in surprise for a moment as she ran out of the flat, and then he started after her._

            "Gwen, wait!"

            "Clothes, Padfoot!"  Remus called from the kitchen doorway.

            "Damn!"  He couldn't run into the street in a tee-shirt and boxers.  He ran into his bedroom and hastily pulled on clothes and shoes.  Then he went after Gwen, hoping to catch up with her before she got too far or decided to apparate.

            It took him just four blocks to catch up to her.  He could have caught up more quickly if he had dared to transform into Padfoot, but he knew that was too big a risk.

            "Gwen—Gwen, wait—please—at least tell me what I did," Sirius begged as he planted himself in her path.

            "Drop the act, Sirius.  I know what you are.  All those damn dog jokes—they weren't because of your name, were they?"  She moved to go around him, but he grabbed her arm again.  "Don't touch me!"  She pointed her wand at Sirius and the look in her eyes told him that she meant it.  He let go of her arm and took a step back.  He felt confused.  How had she figured out that he was an animagus?  And why did it upset her so much?

            "How did you find out?" he asked blankly as he stared at her beautiful face transformed by anger and hatred.

            "I saw the moon phase chart in your room.  How many times did you think you could avoid me at the full moon before I'd figure it out?"  Sirius understood then.  Gwen believed he was a werewolf.  He was still surprised by the intensity of her anger.

            "What if I am a werewolf, Gwen?  I'm still the same person I've been since you met me.  Does it really matter so much?"  He hoped desperately that she would realize that it didn't matter, but he knew he was hoping in vain.  He saw her grey eyes narrow with hatred.

            "The same person?" she asked, her voice full of venom.  "You aren't a person; you're a monster."

            He had sensed that the word was coming, but it was a blow all the same.  _No one_ called his friend a "monster."  As calmly as he could, he said, "At least I'm not a bigot.  Good-bye, Gwen."

            Sirius slowly made his way back to the flat.  A weird mix of emotions filled him: anger, sadness, regret for what might have been, and some he couldn't, or wouldn't, identify.  As he entered the flat, he heard Remus in the kitchen.  He wasn't ready to face Remus yet.  He headed toward his bedroom, but paused in the doorway when he saw the unmade bed.  Just last night they had been so happy together in that bed.  He turned away from it and went into Remus's room instead, flopping down into the upholstered chair by the window.  The pillow behind his back was uncomfortable, so he pulled it out intending to throw it on the bed.  "Cave Lupum" it read.  Sirius stared at it for a moment, hugged it to his chest, and gazed out the window at the morning sky.  He sensed Remus in the doorway, but Remus left him alone.

            Remus watched Sirius for only a moment or two before retreating from the doorway.  It was clear that his friend's heart was broken.  Remus didn't want to intrude before Sirius was ready to talk.  He just hoped that he could be of some comfort when Sirius was ready.  He saw the unmade bed in Sirius's room and decided to strip the bed and remake it with clean sheets.  The last thing Sirius needed was to smell Gwen's perfume in his bed.

            As Remus pulled off the top sheet, a piece of paper fluttered to the floor.  He picked it up—a moon phase chart.  Remus then noticed that the bedside table drawer was open.  He looked at the chart again and sank down onto the bed.  Gwen had been looking at this in the moment she chose to leave.  She had figured out his secret.  It was his fault that Sirius's heart was broken.  He went to his bedroom and sat on the corner of the bed nearest to Sirius.

            "Sirius?"

            "Please go away, Moony.  I don't want to talk now."

            "I was going to make your bed, and I found this on top of it."  Remus held out the moon chart.  Sirius glanced at it and looked out the window again.  "It's why she left, isn't it?  She figured it out."  Sirius made no sign that Remus was correct, nor did he deny it.  "Damn it, Padfoot.  I don't want you to lose her because of me.  If she's uncomfortable with me around, I'll move out."

            Sirius laughed humorlessly.  "What good would that do?  She doesn't suspect you.  She thinks I'm a werewolf."  

Remus blinked in surprise. He hadn't expected this.  "Didn't she believe you when you told her it's me, not you?"

"Why would I tell her that?" Sirius asked as he finally turned to face his friend.

Remus shook his head ruefully.  "God, you're infuriating sometimes.  I know that you're my friend.  You don't have to pretend you're a werewolf and suffer just to prove it."

Sirius threw the pillow at Remus.  "This isn't about _you, Moony.  It's about Gwen.  If she's willing to break up with me over this, I don't want to date her.  She broke up with me because she thinks I'm a werewolf, and I broke up with her because I now know she's a bigot."_

Remus sighed and headed for the door.  He knew Sirius well enough to know that there was no point in arguing further.  He paused in the doorway and looked back at his friend.  Sirius was looking out the window again, his chin in his hand.

"Sirius?"

"Hmm?"

"Now that you've experienced the world of dating as a werewolf, will you stop trying to fix me up?"

"Probably not.  I don't like seeing you lonely."

"I'm not lonely—I have friends."

An hour later, Sirius looked at the empty doorway as if just realizing he was alone.  His eyes fell on the pillow from Lily, "Cave Lupum."  She had meant well, but Sirius suspected that the joke made Remus uncomfortable.  He pulled out his wand and, after several attempts, transfigured the embroidery to his satisfaction, "Amamus Lupum."  Now he felt ready to leave the room.  It was time to pretend that everything was all right.  He didn't want Remus blaming himself for this fiasco.

"Hey, Moony!  Let's send an owl to Peter and tell him that we're taking him out tonight."  He found Remus reading in the main room of the flat.

"What about James?" Remus asked.

"Nah.  Lily'd kill me if I took her husband where I'm planning to go."  His wicked grin was back—a bit forced, yes, but back.

Remus shook his head with a smile and said, "You really are a dog, Padfoot."

"Cave canem, ladies.  Cave canem."

* * * * *

            "Hello, Gwen."

            Gwen held the door open wide enough that she could talk to Remus, but not so wide that he might think she wanted him to come in.  

            "I'm sorry, Remus, but you can tell Sirius—"

            "Sirius doesn't know I'm here."

            "Then why are you here?"

            "I'm here because my best friend has a broken heart, and I'd like to talk to you." Gwen paused for a moment, considering, then she opened the door wider and gestured for Remus to enter. "Thank you."  He sat in a chair not far from the door.  He knew that when he had said what he was there to say, she would probably want him to leave quickly.  Gwen sat on the sofa near him.

            "Let me make this easy for you, Remus.  I do not want to see Sirius ever again, and I don't think there is anything you can say to change my mind."  Her voice was calm, but she hugged a throw pillow to her chest as if she wanted to protect herself.  Remus suppressed a smile.  Just three days ago, Sirius had sat in Remus's room hugging a pillow to his chest in the same way.

            "That works out well," he replied, "as Sirius doesn't ever want to see you again either."  Gwen frowned at this and her cheeks flushed slightly.  Remus guessed that she was angry at the idea of Remus treating them as equally wronged in this break up.

            "I'll ask again," she said in a sharper tone.  "Why are you here, Remus?"

            "I need to know, did you break up with Sirius because he is a werewolf, or because he lied to you about it?" As he spoke, he reached into his pocket, pulled out a handkerchief, and unwrapped it to reveal a single coin, a silver Sickle.

            "What difference does it make?"  The anger in her voice was clear now.  Remus placed the coin on the flat of his palm and left it there

            "It might make all the difference in the world."  Remus's voice was very calm.  He wasn't willing to show his temper in front of Gwen.  He was going to show her just how "civilized" a werewolf could be. "Because if you're just angry about him lying to you, I have to ask you to forgive him.  He didn't feel that it was his secret to reveal."              "That doesn't make any sense," Gwen said with a shake of her head.

            "But if you broke up with him because he's a werewolf, I know he won't be interested in getting back together."

            "_He wouldn't be interested!" Gwen was incensed.  "He's a bloody monster—a bloodthirsty monster—and I'm supposed to want __him back?  You've got some nerve!"_

            "I guess you answered my question," Remus said as he dropped the coin back into the handkerchief and returned them to his pocket.  "I told you earlier that Sirius didn't think it was his secret to tell.  That's because you guessed incorrectly.  Sirius isn't a werewolf; he is the friend of one."  Remus held up his hand, showing Gwen the round burn that the silver coin had made.  She stared in horror as he calmly walked out of her flat.

Please review!  Your comments and constructive criticism are most welcome!  Yes, "Sex on the beach" is a real drink.  My sister-in-law and her college friends proclaimed it "yummy" but that's all I know about it (as I don't drink—yuck!).  And since no story of mine would be complete without "borrowing" from someone else's story, I stole the idea of Remus spreading misinformation in DADA about werewolves (specifically colorblindness) from "Call of the Wild" by the Wolfie Twins.  (It's my all-time favorite piece of fanfiction!)—July 2002

This story was originally meant to be just one chapter, but then it took an unexpected turn and began to grow.  Take a look! —September 2002


	2. Unregistered Werewolf

_A/N:__ "Cave Canem" was originally meant to be just one chapter, but I kept thinking, "What if Gwen reported Sirius to the Ministry of Magic as an unregistered werewolf?"  and the story grew.  This chapter takes place on the same day as Remus's visit to Gwen at the end of Chapter One.  Charlotte Stirling was created for the story "Werewolf on Trial."_

**Disclaimer:**  Remus, Sirius, and their entire world belong to J.K. Rowling.

Cave Canem

**Chapter Two: Unregistered Werewolf**

            It had been a long two nights.  A long, wet, two nights.  A long, boring, wet, two nights, and Sirius was glad to be home at last.  Thirty-eight hours hiding on a moor watching an abandoned cottage to witness a possible Death Eater meeting that had not taken place—thirty-eight hours in the rain, no less.  The worst part wasn't the rain, although after twelve hours Sirius had felt like he had gone swimming fully clothed.  The worst part was being alone with his thoughts for thirty-eight hours.  No one should be at the mercy of his own thoughts and memories just one day after a break-up.  _"And I volunteered for this reconnaissance mission because I thought it would be a distraction,"_ Sirius thought wryly.

            Sirius focused his weary mind on the task at hand, temporarily disabling the first of two wards barring his entrance into his flat.  Remus had very cleverly designed it to require only force of thought and an inconspicuous gesture of the hand—no wand, no incantation.  Sirius blessed his flatmate for that foresight whenever he brought a Muggle woman to the flat.  The second ward was even less bother; it "recognized" certain people and admitted them automatically.

            Sirius pushed open the door and made a half-hearted attempt to hang his cloak on a peg by the door.  The cloak hit the floor with a soggy squelch.  He ignored it, performed a drying spell on his robe, and collapsed on the sofa.

            "Reeemus—have pity on a weary man and make me some eggs—please?"  Silence was the only reply.  "Oh, bugger.  He's not home and I'm too hungry to sleep."  Sirius rolled off the sofa and stumbled into the kitchen.  No sooner had he started frying a couple of eggs then he heard a knock at the door.  

            Sirius hung his head and mumbled, "I'm not home."  Whoever it was knocked—no, pounded—on the door louder.  "Oh, bloody hell.  This better be good."

            With a growl of frustration, Sirius stalked to the door and yanked it open.  A grey-haired wizard with a beefy build stood with a fist raised, poised to pound again.  Beside him was a short, slightly plump witch who appeared to be in her mid-thirties.  

            "Are you Sirius Black?" the man asked.  Somehow he made it sound like that was an unfortunate thing to be.

            "Yeah—and you are?"

            "I'm Charlotte Stirling," the woman smiled as she spoke and extended a hand to shake Sirius's, "and this is Morris Burdock.  I'm from the Office of Werewolf Support Services."  Sirius noted that only _she_ was from the Support Services office.  He doubted that the scowling wizard was there to offer _support_ to a werewolf.  He also noted that the wizard held his wand; it was only partially concealed by the folds of his robe.

            "I'm sorry, Ms. Stirling, but Re—" he broke off in mid-sentence.  _"Remus isn't here, but he didn't ask for Remus.  He asked for me."_  Sirius shook his head and smiled slightly.  "Gwen turned me in, didn't she?"

            "We don't have to tell _you_ who turned you in," Burdock said gruffly.

            "You see, confidentiality is very important in our office," Ms. Stirling added, "for _everyone_."

            Sirius was half-tempted to invite them in and play along for a while.  He knew it was an opportunity to experience an aspect of Remus's life, to better understand the problems his friend faced.  But he was tired and hungry; he just didn't want to play.

            "Look, Gwen got it wrong.  I'm not a werewolf, but I'm too tired to try to convince you today.  I promise to come to your office tomorrow."

            "You'll see us now," the man stated and took a step forward.  The moment he tried to cross the threshold, however, he found his way blocked by an icy invisible wall and stepped back hurriedly.  Sirius knew from testing the doorway that it felt even colder than walking through a ghost.

            "One should always wait to be invited in," Sirius said with a sardonic grin.

            "I'm terribly sorry, but we really need to speak with you _today_."  Ms. Stirling actually did seem apologetic as she spoke, and Sirius found himself considering it.  She glanced nervously at her companion. "Things may become _unpleasant_ otherwise.  Um—is something burning?"

            "Bloody hell!" Sirius ran into the kitchen, grabbed the smoking frying pan, and dropped it into the sink.  "This week just keeps getting better and better."  He put his hands on the counter and leaned forward, his forehead resting against an upper cabinet while he thought_.  "I need to eat, I need to sleep, and I can't do either standing in the doorway arguing with Miss Goody-Two-Shoes and the troll."_

            "Come in!" he shouted over his shoulder toward the doorway.  He knew that they would be able to enter now, and the sound of the door closing told him that they had done so.  "Have a seat at the kitchen counter.  I haven't eaten in a couple days, so excuse me if I make a sandwich or something while we talk."  He turned around to see Charlotte Stirling climbing onto a stool at the counter that separated the tiny kitchen from the main room.  Burdock, however, was stalking around the room examining whatever he chose.

            _"What would Remus do?"_ Sirius thought.  "Would you like a cup of tea, Ms. Stirling?  I was just about to make some."

            "Do you promise not to burn it?" she replied with a smile.  Sirius found himself smiling back and beginning to relax.

            "How about you, Mr. Burdock?  Do you want some tea?" Sirius forced himself to sound civil.  After all, he was trying to do as Remus would do.

            "Nice picture," Burdock snarled sarcastically as he stared at the large photo of a full moon over a forest.

            "It's the Forbidden Forest from the Astronomy Tower at Hogwarts," Sirius replied as he made tea.  "Milk or sugar?"  Ms. Stirling shook her head.  "A friend of ours took that photo.  There's a copy at her house too."

            "She a werewolf too?"  Burdock asked with a look of disgust as he finally sat at the counter.

            Sirius snorted.  "Oh yeah, a werewolf taking a photo of the full moon—paws and cameras don't mix very well."  Ms. Stirling seemed to be trying not to grin as she looked down into the mug of tea that Sirius had just put before her.

            "Let's get to down to business," Burdock said curtly.  

Sirius ignored him and began to search the small refrigerator for something to put into a sandwich. Cooling charms and preserving charms were better, but he and Remus made some concessions to Muggle-ness since Sirius brought Muggle women home on occasion.

            "I'm here," Burdock continued, "because you aren't registered.  You went to Hogwarts; you know the law."

            "Yeah, I know a lot of laws concerning werewolves, and most of them are idiotic."  "_Cheddar, perfect."_

            "Is that why you never registered?" Ms. Stirling asked in what was obviously meant to be a sympathetic voice.  

            "No, I never registered because I'm not a werewolf."

            "That's _not_ what our informant says," Burdock said as if that settled the matter.

            Sirius pulled a large knife out of a drawer in order to cut his sandwich in half.  He smiled to himself as Burdock flinched away from the knife.  "Your _informant_ is my ex-girlfriend.  Twice, _twice_, I couldn't go somewhere she wanted to go because I already had plans with my friends.  Both times happened to be the full moon.  Based on that, and that alone, she decided I was a werewolf."

            "She had more than that: keeping a moon phase chart in your room, that photo of the moon, veiled comments about wolves from you and your friends," Burdock said accusingly.  "It all adds up."

            _"Yeah, if you're an idiot,"_ Sirius thought.  He would have answered aloud, but he was too busy eating.

            "Mr. Black, _my_ office is concerned with helping you.  It's difficult enough to be a werewolf without having to go through it without assistance," Ms. Stirling said.  She ignored the dismissive noise Burdock made.  "Obviously, you're less in need of assistance than our Muggle clients, but even wizards and witches who are werewolves need help from time to time.  We can provide you with a safe place to transform.  I admit it isn't very pleasant, but you won't be able to hurt anyone, and we can provide medical care for your injuries the next morning."

            Sirius finished his sandwich and washed it down with his mug of tea.  _"Wolfed it down,"_ he thought.  "Ms. Stirling, you're obviously trying to be helpful, and I do appreciate it, but I'm really _not_ a werewolf.  What do you want me to do to prove it?  I could come down to your office on November fourth, and you'll see for yourself that I won't transform."

            "You're not a werewolf, but you know off the top of your head that the next full moon is the fourth?" Burdock said.  He smiled smugly as if he had just proved his case.

            _"Stupid of me.  Brain is getting fuzzy.  Making dumb mistakes,"_ Sirius thought.  He felt too tired to stand anymore. He made his way back to the sofa and sat down.  "My girlfriend just broke up with me because I wouldn't go with her to a party on the fourth, so, yeah, I do know the date off the top of my head.  If there's nothing else, I only had about five hours of sleep three nights ago, and none since then.  I'd really like to go to bed."

            They both got up from the stools, but only Ms. Stirling headed for the door.  Burdock stood in front of Sirius and looked down at him with a nasty grin.

            "No, that isn't all," he said in a low voice.  "Once you've been reported, the law requires that you be registered as a possible werewolf until it's proven one way or the other.  You _will_ be taken into custody on November fourth, locked in a cell, and when the moon rises, your registration will either be made permanent or erased.  And we both know which it will be, don't we?"

            Just then the front door opened and Remus came in.  Sirius saw Remus tense at the sight of Burdock standing threateningly over his friend.

            "Everything O.K., Sirius?"  Remus slipped his wand out of his pocket.

            "It's fine," Sirius lied. _ "I don't want Remus to have to deal with this creep."  _"Do me a favor?  We're all out of milk.  Run down to the corner for some more." 

            "You sure?"

            "What's wrong?" Burdock snarled.  "Doesn't your flatmate know about you yet?  Awfully irresponsible of you not to tell him, but I suppose you don't care about putting humans in danger."

            "Just go, Remus!" Sirius pleaded.  Remus stood with a hand on the doorknob, unsure of what to do.  Charlotte Stirling had been watching Sirius and Burdock, but she turned now to get a closer look at Remus.

            "Remus—Lupin?" she asked.  

Sirius dropped his head and buried his face in his hand.  She obviously recognized Remus's name from her files, _"Just too memorable a name for a werewolf,"_ and now Burdock would bully Remus.  

"And you're Aeneas Black's son, aren't you?" she continued.  Sirius looked up at her in surprise.  She was smiling as she looked from Remus to Sirius and back again.  "Well, things are much clearer now.  Although I am a bit surprised you two are still friends after that unfortunate incident three years ago."

There was only one "unfortunate incident" of any significance, the time Sirius nearly got his friends, and Snape, killed by telling Snape how to get under the Whomping Willow.  Then he remembered what Mrs. Lupin had said when Remus was facing the Committee for the Disposal of Dangerous Creatures:

_"Oh, Aeneas, thank you so much for sending us that nice Charlotte Stirling.  She's the first person I've met from Werewolf Support Services who didn't set my teeth on edge."_

_"Rather unfortunate name for her job though," Sirius's father had replied._

_"Yes, I did rather flinch when she introduced herself."_

"Oh, Ms. Stirling, I didn't realize who you were.  My brain's a little fogged today.  I remember Mrs. Lupin saying how helpful you were to her and Remus when—" Sirius broke off abruptly.  He was saying far too much in front of the Werewolf Registry thug.

Remus smiled and shook her hand.  "It's nice to see you again, Miss Stirling.  I'm sorry I didn't recognize you.  May I ask what's going on?"

"Gwen decided to turn the Big Bad Wolf in to the Registry," Sirius explained.  "He's here to get me registered, and Ms. Stirling is here to offer whatever help she can."

"Ah," Remus grinned and gestured Ms. Stirling to a seat before sitting on the sofa himself.  "Let me get a good seat for the show.  This promises to be highly entertaining." Sirius raised an eyebrow at his friend.  "Well, Pads, I did warn you.  Let me know when you want me to step in and rescue you.  Until then I'll just enjoy myself."

"_Now_ would actually be a good time unless you want me locked up in a cell on the fourth."  

Remus burst out laughing, much to Burdock's amazement.  "Sirius Black locked up—it's Filch's dream come true.  Wait until I tell James.  It's _almost_ worth letting him take you."  Sirius glared at Remus.  "I said _almost_."  Remus looked at Burdock with a smile.  "Has he growled at you yet?  He really has a very bad habit of growling at people when he's annoyed."

"I'm getting annoyed with you right now, Remus," Sirius said quietly.  "You know I don't want to be locked up for the full moon, but it might be worth it, _almost_."  

Remus stopped smiling.  He had understood the true meaning of what Sirius had said.  If Sirius couldn't be with Remus at the full moon, Remus would have to be locked up.  Prongs couldn't handle him without Padfoot.

"You're right; I'm sorry," Remus apologized.  He took a handkerchief out of his pocket and handed it to Sirius.  "There's a silver Sickle inside this.  Hold it for a while."  Remus then addressed Burdock.  "Why don't you have a seat while we wait?  The truth is, Sirius's ex-girlfriend figured out that one of us is a werewolf—"

"You don't have to tell him, Remus," Sirius interrupted.

Remus ignored the interruption.  "She just came to an incorrect conclusion about which one of us it is.  I'm a werewolf; Sirius is not.  He's busy at the full moon because he keeps an eye on me and makes sure I don't escape and hurt anyone.  Show him your hand, Sirius."  
            Sirius removed the Sickle from his palm and showed Burdock that it was unblemished, no burn from the silver.

"How do I know that's a real Sickle?"

"Give him one from your own pocket."  Burdock did so and then turned his attention to Remus.  

"You're registered?"

"Of course."

Burdock pulled a small book out of his pocket and opened to a blank page.  "Number?"

"WR040460A."  The number appeared on the page as Remus spoke.  A moment later the page filled with Remus's name and all the information about him that the registry had collected.  Burdock began to skim through the information.

"Your mother sends me Christmas cards every year," Ms. Stirling said to Remus.  "She was very proud of how well you did at Hogwarts.  You graduated fourth in your class, didn't you?"

Remus looked surprised but pleased.  "How on earth do you remember that?" he asked.

"Well, you were the first werewolf to attend Hogwarts, and you did so well—it just seemed worth remembering," she explained.  Remus nodded understandingly.  He wasn't just an individual; he was a representative of all werewolves.

"This doesn't say where you currently get locked up during the full moon," Burdock said gruffly as he pulled out a quill.

"It varies," Remus answered as he rose to get an inkwell from the writing desk.  "Sometimes I go to my mother's house.  She has a metal shed that's been inspected by the Registry before."  Remus tried to hand Burdock the inkwell, but seeing that he wouldn't take it from Remus's hand, Remus put it on a table near him.  "But more often I go to the home of my friends James and Lily Potter.  They have a cellar I can use."

"Potter?"  Burdock asked as he took notes.

"Yes, here's their address."  Remus put a small piece of parchment next to the inkwell.  He then returned his attention to Charlotte Stirling.

"I never could have done half so well in school if my friends hadn't explained all the lessons I missed.  Sirius graduated second in our class."  Sirius didn't want praise.  He turned Ms. Stirling's attention back to Remus.

"But Remus blew everyone away in Defense Against the Dark Arts.  He was first by far."

Burdock snorted dismissively at that.  "A Dark Creature doing well at Dark Arts—that makes sense.  A Dark Creature wanting to learn Defense?  Why?  So you can figure out how to outsmart humans who are trying to protect themselves?"

"THAT'S IT!"  Sirius leapt to his feet; he'd had enough.  "You do NOT come into my home and insult my friend.  GET OUT!"

Burdock merely leaned back in his chair and smiled in a way that implied that he had the upper hand.  "But it isn't just _your_ home, is it, Black?  It's Lupin's home as well—and I have the authority to drop in on any werewolf I choose and to ask him any questions I choose."

Sirius growled.

"Morris, it's time for you to leave," Ms. Stirling spoke with surprising authority.  "Sirius, it's time for you to go to bed.  We've kept you up far too long already."  Sirius nodded but didn't take his eyes off Burdock.

"I'll go to bed right _after_ he leaves," Sirius said.  Burdock didn't move; he glared at Sirius.

"Morris, you told me that your wife wanted you home early today," Ms. Stirling stepped between the two angry men.  "If you leave now, I'll write up this report for you and leave a copy on your desk for you to sign in the morning."  After a moment's consideration, Burdock left without a word.  "Well, that improves the ambience of the room, doesn't it?  I should be going as well.  Remus, please tell your mother that I said, 'Hello'."

"I will," Remus replied.  "It was nice to see you again.  I suppose I'll see you the next time Sirius does something idiotic."

Ms. Stirling laughed as she took her cloak off a peg by the door.  Sirius noticed that she had hung up his cloak as well.  He assisted her in putting on her cloak and stage whispered, 

"I'd growl at him for that crack except that it's true."  She nodded and patted his arm.

"I can see why Remus is friends with you, Sirius."  She then looked at Remus with a very sober expression.  "I'm afraid that Mr. Burdock has a tendency to hold a grudge.  He may take out his dislike of Sirius by harassing you.  If he does, please, don't hesitate to contact me.  I can make him back off."  Remus nodded.  "Promise?"

"I promise," he assured her.  Sirius held the door for her and handed her a coin. 

"Please give the troll his Sickle back.  I don't want him to accuse me of stealing it."  He closed the door behind her and then collapsed back against it.  He closed his eyes as he yawned and ran his fingers through his hair.  "Ugh—this needs to be washed.  It's almost as disgusting as Snape's."  He opened his eyes to see Remus sitting on the arm of the sofa, his arms crossed and a smug smile on his face.

"So, have you had fun pretending to be a werewolf?"

"I told them the truth; they didn't believe me."

Remus nodded.  "O.K."

"Thanks for rescuing me.  Quick thinking with the Sickle."

"Yeah, well, the voice of experience."  Remus looked down at the palm of his hand with a frown.  "Hurts like a bitch."  Sirius pushed off from the door and started slowly for his bedroom.  As he passed, he saw that the palm of Remus's hand was red and raw.

"Do you need me to make up some of that special burn ointment?"

"No thanks, I still have some of the last batch James made."

"Good night, Moony."

"Good afternoon, Padfoot."

Just before falling into an exhausted sleep, Sirius wondered how Remus had managed to burn his palm.  _"He usually gets his fingertips if he has to pick up something.  I'll ask him in the morning."_


	3. Who's Afraid of the Big Bad Wolf?

**Disclaimer:** Only Charlotte Stirling and Morris Burdock are mine; the world they inhabit belongs to J.K. Rowling.  (Oh, and I borrowed the phrase "go a-roving" from Katie Bell's "We'll Go No More A-Roving," a true tear-jerker.  She borrowed the phrase—well, read it and find out.)

**A/N:** Just a reminder, "Cave Canem" means "Beware of the dog," "Cave Lupum" means "Beware of the wolf," and "Amamus Lupum" means "We love the wolf."

**Cave Canem**

**Chapter Three: Who's Afraid of the Big Bad Wolf?**

            For the third time, Sirius searched each and every cubbyhole and drawer of the writing desk.  "Where did I put that card?  The last time I had it, I was—"  Sirius gazed around the flat.  He jumped up, ran into the kitchen, and opened the refrigerator.  He smiled triumphantly as he held up a greeting card with a cartoon stag and doe nuzzling and holding hooves under a full moon.  When he had seen it in a store yesterday, he had known that he had to give it to James and Lily.

            "Now we can go to dinner."  Since James and Lily's wedding several months ago, it had become their tradition to all gather at the Potters' house for dinner before apparating to whatever place they had chosen to enjoy the full moon.  Lily said that she enjoyed the opportunity to be a small part of "her boys'" adventures.

            Sirius knocked softly on Remus's door.  "Remus, it's time to go."  A few moments later, a very pale Remus emerged from the darkened bedroom.  "Did you get any sleep?"  Remus shook his head and walked ahead of Sirius toward the door.  "Got your wand?"

            "Yes, Mummy."

            "When I ask if you're wearing clean underwear, then you can accuse me of acting like your mother."  Sirius grabbed their cloaks as he waited one beat, then two.  "So, are you wearing clean underwear?"

            Sirius was rewarded by seeing the hoped-for smile on Remus's face.  Remus always became tense before the full moon, too full of "what-if's."  And Sirius couldn't see someone tense without feeling a corresponding need to lighten the mood.

            They had just stepped into the hallway and away from Remus's wards in order to apparate when Morris Burdock strode into view.  Two younger wizards accompanied him.  One was large and muscley—if he were a Muggle, he would have been a rugby player.  The other was tall and thin, with eyes the icy blue of the winter sky.  Even colder than his eyes was his smile.  In fact, all three were smiling in a way that made Sirius uncomfortable, and all three were holding their wands.  Sirius instinctively stepped in front of Remus, but Remus grasped his arm and pulled him back, gently but firmly.  Remus kept his hand on Sirius's wand arm, a subtle reminder to do nothing.

            "Is there a problem, Mr. Burdock?" Remus asked calmly.

            Burdock ignored him and addressed Sirius.  "Well, Black, I told you we'd be back for you today."

            "You've got to be kidding.  You know I'm not a werewolf—we proved it."

            "You proved nothing.  A trick with a coin.  I don't care how you did it."  He took a step closer to Sirius and lowered his voice.  "And maybe I don't care if you're a werewolf or not.  You've been reported and that makes you mine at least until the moon rises tonight.  Do—you—understand?"  He jabbed his finger repeatedly into Sirius's chest, emphasizing each word.

            Sirius felt sick at heart thinking of Remus locked in the Potters' cellar instead of running free, but at least Prongs and Wormtail would be with him.  They'd keep him from tearing himself to bits.  Sirius dropped his head in defeat.

            "I'm so sorry, Remus, You'll have to go to James's without me."

            Burdock smirked.  "I don't think so.  Lupin's coming with us too."

            "Why?"  Sirius knew that he sounded angry, but he didn't care.  "He's registered.  He has a safe place to go.  Why are you taking him?"  Sirius felt Remus increase the pressure on his arm.

            "Officially?" Burdock asked, still smirking.  Sirius nodded slightly.  "Lupin said that you're the one who keeps an eye on him during the full moon.  It would be terribly irresponsible of us to take you away from your pet monster and leave him unsupervised."

            "He won't be alone, he'll be—"

            "And unofficially?" Remus interrupted.

            Burdock finally looked at Remus.  "It'll teach Black a lesson in respecting authority if we take you both."  He took a step back and held out his free hand.  "Your wands, slowly."  Remus handed over his wand, but Sirius hesitated.

            "Just do it, Sirius," Remus said quietly.  "They want an excuse to kill you.  Don't give it to them."

            "And while we're on the subject," Burdock said as he pocketed their wands, "apparate and you'll be considered fugitive werewolves.  Mr. Styles," he nodded in the direction of Blue Eyes, "is very skilled at tracking wizards after they apparate.  Try it and you'll be dead before moonrise."

            "Our friends are expecting us," Remus said.  "May I send our owl to them so they don't worry about us.  It will only take a minute."

            "No."  Burdock pulled out a large silver pocket watch, opened it to check the time, and then closed it with a snap.  "Almost time.  Touch the portkey, and we'll be on our way."  As he spoke, he held out the pocket watch, flat on the palm of his hand.  A silver portkey.

            "Bastard," Sirius muttered.  Burdock just smirked all the more.  Remus reached out without hesitation and touched the watch with the side of his little finger.  He wouldn't give Burdock the satisfaction of showing pain, but he would make sure to locate the burn where it would give him little trouble.  Sirius touched the watch as well and prayed, for Remus's sake, that Burdock had told the truth when he said the portkey would activate soon.

* * * * *

"James, come away from the window.  Watching for them won't make them get here any faster," Lily pointed out as she wrapped her arms around his waist.  James released the curtain that he had been pulling back and turned away from the window with a sigh.  He wrapped his arms around her as well and rested his chin on top of her head.

"Where are they?" he asked no one in particular.

"They're less than an hour late," Peter pointed out.  "For Sirius, that's nothing."

"But it's not 'nothing' for Remus—especially tonight.  You know he doesn't like to apparate too close to moonrise.  Takes too much concentration."

"Then go," Lily said.  James pulled back and looked down at her.  "Go look for them.  They're probably back at the flat sound asleep or something."  James smiled and kissed her forehead.

"Wanna come, Peter?"

"Sure."

"And I'll get dinner on the table," Lily said as she pulled away and headed for the kitchen.  "Wake them up, hurry back, and you'll just have time for a quick bite before you go a-roving."

* * * * *

Burdock seemed to enjoy jingling the keys as he led the way down the stairs into the sub-basement of the building.  He had the power to imprison them, and he wanted to keep rubbing it in.  Salt in the wounds.  Remus tried to stay calm.  He had been locked up alone before, and undoubtedly, he would be locked up alone again.  But it was all he could do not to bolt and run away.  He knew it was illogical.  The two wizards behind him would kill him before he got three yards.  However, the logical human was subsiding, the instinctive wolf was emerging, and the wolf felt with every fiber of his being that he wanted to run free_.  "At least Sirius is behaving himself."_

Burdock unlocked a thick oak door and opened it to reveal that the inside of the door was covered with silver plates.  The brick-walled chamber was slightly larger than Remus had expected, but two men in Muggle clothes were already inside the cell.  One had a comforting arm around the shoulders of the other as they sat on the bare floor, backs against the wall.

Remus had never been with other werewolves at the full moon before, and he wondered how violent they would be toward each other.  He suspected he would react they same way he initially had with Padfoot.  They would fight to establish dominance, but then they would be able to enjoy the companionship.  Remus walked in without hesitation.  He felt a strange thrill at the opportunity to test himself against other wolves.

"You too, Black.  In."

Remus whirled around at this.  Burdock and his accomplices were all pointing their wands at Sirius.  All three were smiling sadistically.  Sirius stared at Burdock, unable to believe what he heard.

"Together?" Sirius asked.  "You're joking."  Remus realized that Burdock was neither joking nor bluffing.  He didn't just want Sirius humiliated; he wanted Sirius dead.  Remus had been brought here so he would have to live with the knowledge that he had killed his friend.  However, Burdock was probably planning not to let him live with it for long.  

"He's not joking, Sirius."  Sirius's face hardened from disbelief into hatred.  He wisely refrained from growling and walked into the cell.  He stood just inside the doorway, his back to his captors as he listened to the heavy door slam shut and the key turn in the lock.

"Well, Moony," Sirius said with a smile, "things could be worse."  Come morning, he would have to face the consequences of being an unregistered animagus, but at least he would live to face the morning.

"No, they couldn't," one of the young men by the wall said.  "They keep getting worse."  The other man tightened his grip around the speaker's shoulders.

"It's better that they're here, Eddie," he said.  Then he looked up at Remus and Sirius.  "I'm Brian, and this is my brother, Eddie."

"Remus, and that's my friend Sirius."

"Glad you're here," Brian said with a tense smile.

"No offense, but I can think of a few places I'd rather be," Sirius grumbled.  He slouched against the door, oblivious to the silver.  He watched Remus begin to pace.

"So can I," Brian replied.  Eddie wiped at his eyes with the cuff of his sleeve.

"I'm so sorry, Brian," Eddie murmured.

"Not your fault, little brother.  Not your fault."

* * * * *

James and Peter had no difficulty entering the flat.  James had lived there before the wedding (and still insisted on paying half of the rent until the end of the lease), and Peter was a frequent guest, so neither of the front door wards were a problem.

"SIRIUS!  REMUS!  WHERE ARE YOU?  Check the desk, Peter.  See if either one left a note."  James headed back toward the bedrooms.  Both were empty.   Remus's blinds were drawn and his bed rumpled.  _"Remus tried to take a nap before coming to dinner, so he was here this afternoon,"_ James thought.  He returned to Peter.  "Anything?"  

"No, and their owl is still here."

James glanced around.  _"The wards are still working.  No sign of a struggle or a duel."_

"At least it doesn't look like Death Eaters were here," Peter said.  The tension was clear in his voice.

"Yeah, I was thinking the same thing."

"Should we go back to your house?"

"Not yet.  Why don't you go to Mrs. Lupin's and check for Remus there.  Try not to worry her."

"Sure, no problem."  Peter then affected a bright and cheerful tone.  "Hi, Mrs. Lupin.  Your son is missing and moonrise is in just over an hour, but don't worry."

James looked at Peter's baleful expression and nodded.  "You're right—impossible task.  At least tell her that we think Remus and Sirius are together.  Sirius can conjure a cage or something if necessary."  Peter nodded and started for the door.  "Oh—and Peter?"  Peter paused with his hand on the doorknob.  "Tell her we'll send an owl as soon as we find him."

"What are you going to do?"

James scanned the flat quickly as if hoping that a clue would jump out at him.  He remembered hearing about Sirius's visitor from the Werewolf Registry.  "I think—I'm going to Greystone."

"Where?"

"It used to be a Muggle insane asylum, until they abandoned it as 'unfit for human habitation'," James explained as he walked to the door.  "Now it's where the Ministry locks up werewolves who won't lock themselves up or who don't have any other safe place to go at the full moon.  Most of the Muggle werewolves end up there every month."

"Why would Remus be there?" Peter asked as they went into the hallway.

"Remus _and_ Sirius, the unregistered werewolf."  James saw understanding dawn on Peter's face.

"Oh, the wizard from the Registry that Sirius pissed off."

"The problem is, I only know that it's in Surrey; I don't know where.  Lily grew up in Surrey.  I hope she knows."

"Good luck," both friends said just before apparating away.

* * * * *

Remus stopped pacing and looked down at the two brothers as a sickening realization struck him.

"Brian, why are you glad we're here?"

"I'd rather you two kill me than Eddie.  It'll be easier for him that way."

"Oh shit," Remus whispered.  _"He's not a werewolf.  We're going to kill him."_

"You're not a werewolf?"  Sirius seemed to have difficulty comprehending that he wasn't the only non-werewolf in the room.  "Oh my God, Remus, he's not a werewolf."

"Yeah, I got that, Sirius."  Remus began pacing again.

"I don't believe it.  That bastard.  That absolute bastard."

"Shut up, Sirius!"

For fourteen years, Remus had endured being locked into small rooms like this, endured being locked away from the human prey he craved.  Now he was locked in with his prey.  He felt more trapped than he had ever felt before.  For the first time, his human side wanted out even more than the wolf did.

* * * * *

"This place gives me the creeps," Lily murmured as she and James made their way through the deserted ground floor of Greystone.  James held her hand to help her over the lichen-covered stones of a partially collapsed wall.

"HELLO!  ANYONE HERE?"  James called out again.  Everywhere he looked were signs of decay and neglect: rotted wood, peeling paint, rusty door hinges.

"Are you sure this is where the Ministry locks up werewolves?" Lily asked.

"Remus told me about it once, but that was—five years ago.  Maybe they've stopped using it since then."  James fought to control his mounting panic.  "Damn.  I've got a really bad feeling.  They're in trouble, and I don't know where else to look for them."

Lily squeezed his hand in reassurance.  "Listen to me.  They're together.  Remus will keep Sirius out of trouble until moonrise, and Sirius will keep Remus out of trouble after that."  James squeezed back and smiled at her just briefly before looking around again.

"Let's try that hallway," he said as he gestured to the right.

* * * * *

Remus leaned back in the corner farthest from Brian as if to delay the inevitable.  Sirius was still slouching against the door, his arms wrapped around himself.  His gaze seemed unfocused and turned inward.  He was clearly as worried about tonight as Remus was.

"Come here, Padfoot."  Sirius started at the sound of Remus's voice but obeyed without hesitation.  Remus winced inside as he saw Sirius's hand push off against the silver.  Remus then spoke quietly, for only Sirius to hear.

"Listen.  Whatever you see tonight, remember this, I killed Brian, not Eddie, no matter who asks or why."

Sirius nodded solemnly and then put on a brave smile.  "You'll have to get through me first."

"No," Remus said harshly.  "You'll be crazy to try."  Remus knew his friend.  He knew that Sirius would try to protect Brian as long as possible.  He also knew werewolves.  They would kill Padfoot if he kept them from the human prey they craved.

"Sirius, I know you want to save him.  Iwant you to save him, but I know that you can't.  You're used to two against one, odds in your favor.  Tonight it's two against one, odds against you—_all night_.  We'll keep coming at you until we get to him.  He'll be dead before morning, and you have to accept that."

"I can't do nothing; you know I can't."

Remus knew he was asking the impossible.  He didn't really expect Sirius to just step aside and let the wolves kill Brian.  If the roles were reversed, he knew he would fight to his last breath to save a person in danger.  But the roles weren't reversed.  Remus's life wasn't in danger; his friend's life was.  The only way Remus could protect Sirius was to talk him into saving himself.  He hoped that he could convince Sirius to bow to the inevitable before he was mortally wounded.

"The only death you can prevent tonight is your own.  The most you can do for Brian is to delay us, and that's not worth dying for, Sirius.  _Don't_ let me kill you."

As he spoke, Remus watched Sirius grow slightly paler and his breathing grow shallower and more rapid.  Sirius comprehended how much danger he was in, yet Sirius forced a smile again.

"Kill me?  Moony kick Padfoot's ass?  Not going to happen.  I don't care how much help you have, Moony.  No one is going to kill anyone tonight."

* * * * *

James and Lily had only gone a few yards when their shadows suddenly ran out ahead of them.  James whirled around to see the source of the light—a lantern carried by a young man in wizard robes.

"Can I help you?  Are you lost?" he asked.

"I hope you can help us," James replied.  "We're looking for two friends of ours.  One of them is a werewolf."

"You're in the right place.  The stairs are over here."  He held the lantern high as he led the way through a twisting and confusing path.  "We made it difficult to find the way upstairs.  Keeps out the curious Muggles, most of  'em at least.  Name's Simon."

"James and Lily."

At the top of the stairs, Simon pushed open a pair of doors to reveal a hallway in slightly better repair than those below.  The paint was still peeling, and the door hinges were still rusty, but no walls were crumbling, and debris didn't choke the passage.

"Charlotte!"  Simon called out.  "We've got visitors!"  A moment later, a witch wearing a long apron over a mossy-green robe emerged from a room halfway down the corridor.

"I'll see you in the morning, Emily," she said to someone in the room just before she closed and locked the heavy metal door.  She then approached Simon and the Potters with a welcoming smile.  "Simon, could you go visit with Philip?  He seemed more anxious than usual when he arrived."

"Sure," he said.  He walked down the hall whistling.

"Now, what can I do for you?" Charlotte asked.

"We're looking for two friends of ours, Remus Lupin and Sirius Black.  Remus is—"

"Say no more," Charlotte said with a smile.  "I've met them both, and neither is here.  What made you look for them here?"

"They were supposed to be at our house an hour and a half ago," James explained.  "Remus usually spends the full moon with us.  Now we can't find either one, and I started thinking about that man from the Werewolf Registry who visited them—"

"Morris Burdock." Charlotte frowned as she said his name.  It seemed to leave a bitter taste in her mouth.  "Haven't seen him today, either."  She bit her lip as she thought and glanced at her watch.  "SIMON!"  His head popped out of a doorway a moment later.  "When I was out sick last week, did any reports of unregistered werewolves come in?"

"Just one," he replied while walking back.  "I met Mr. Burdock there.  Turned out to be two brothers.  They both denied it, but I'm sure at least one was.  They'd certainly gone to a lot of trouble to make their cellar escape proof.  Problem is, they're Muggles, so they couldn't make it soundproof—that's why we got called.  Some of—"

"Simon," Charlotte held up a hand to silence him.  "Did Mr. Burdock say he was going to bring them in for the full moon?"

"Yeah, both of them."

"Has he?"

"Oh—no. That's strange, isn't it?"

Charlotte turned back to James and Lily.  "He _should_ have brought them here.  There's one other place I can think of where he'd lock up suspected werewolves, a couple of cells in the sub-basement of our offices.  I think we'd better go right away, but I need one of you to stay here.  Simon knows all there is to know about this place," she gave him a kind smile that made him blush with pride, "but he needs a licensed witch or wizard on hand."

"I'm a squib," he explained with a slightly embarrassed shrug.  "All the doors lock and unlock manually, and the silencing charms coincide with moonrise, so you're pretty much here for the 'just in case'."

James immediately looked at Lily with the unspoken question in his eyes.

"Of course I'll stay," she said with a smile.  "Go!"

"Love you, Lily."  He gave her a quick kiss and followed Charlotte through the doors.

"Love you too, Prongs!" she called after him.

* * * * *

Sirius sat in a corner watching Remus pace.  At least he watched Remus's feet.  He didn't want to meet his eyes and risk resuming their argument.

Brian and Eddie were still sitting near a back corner.  Eddie had run out of tears at last.  The strain was starting to show on Brian's face.  He was staring fixedly at the vaulted ceiling.  Occasionally, one or the other would say, "Remember when…" and begin to reminisce.  Sirius found it very disturbing.

Remus's feet suddenly stopped just in front of Sirius, and Remus crouched down to look him in the eye.

"O.K., Padfoot, which side can you defend yourself better on?"

"What?"

"In a dogfight, can you protect yourself easier if I come from your left or your right?"

"I don't know—right."

"Then this is the corner you want to be in."

"Remus, I already told you—"

"Tell Brian to stay in this corner; you can get in front of him.  We'll have to get near the door to attack from your left, and we won't want to get near the silver.  It'll push us into attacking from the front and the right."

"Thank you."  Sirius's vision blurred as tears welled up in his eyes.  He felt as if an enormous load had been lifted off his shoulders knowing that Remus approved of his decision to fight.  He hadn't wanted to go into tonight with tension between them.

"Just promise me that you'll win."

Sirius smiled.  "Don't worry, Moony.  I promise to kick your ass."

Remus did not return the smile.  "I'm not joking, Sirius.  Fight to kill.  We will."

Time seemed to slow for Sirius as he watched Remus gracefully unfold from a crouch to stand and then walk away.  He wanted to call Remus back, but he couldn't speak.  He had no words.  He had only emptiness inside.  He wanted to save a life.  He hadn't realized that he'd have to take lives to do it.  He threw his head back against the wall and expressed himself the only way he could, a puppy's whine of despair.  Remus understood.

"REMUS!  SIRIUS!  ARE YOU HERE?"

Remus's and Sirius's eyes met as hope was reborn.  "JAMES!" they shouted together.  Sirius  bolted to the door and began to pound on it with his fist.

"We're in here!" he yelled.  The door swung open, and James rushed in to embrace Sirius. 

"I've been so worried about you two!"

"Thank you, James!  You saved my ass—again!"

"Thank you, James," Remus said quietly.  "Now, get out, please."

"No one is going anywhere," said a gruff voice.  All eyes turned to the doorway where a scowling Morris Burdock and a worried Charlotte Stirling stood side by side.  "Moonrise is minutes away—"

"Less," Remus stated.

"—and as far as _my_ office is concerned, all four are werewolves.  All four have to be locked in."

"Damn," Charlotte said with a worried glance at Remus.  "All right.  We have two cells.  Time to tell the truth, everyone.  Who can stay in here with Remus, and who should go into the other?"

"Eddie has to stay in here.  Brian and I in the other," Sirius stated.  He deliberately put his hand flat against the silver door as he looked back at Brian.  

Brian stared in shock.  "But—you—"

"Go!" Eddie urged as he pushed his brother forward.

Sirius heard the door of Remus's cell being relocked as he walked into the neighboring one.

"Sorry about this," Charlotte said as she closed their door.  This room was the same, albeit slightly smaller.  Brian put his hand flat against the cool silver and then turned to face Sirius.

"Why didn't you tell us?"

Sirius shrugged.  "What was there to say?"  _"I can save myself if I want to, but I can't save you.  Or, I can try to save you, but I'll have to kill your brother and my friend to do it." _ "Did you want me to tell Eddie that he might kill me as well as you?"  Brian sighed and shook his head.

Unearthly cries of agony suddenly filled the air.  The screams were neither fully human nor fully lupine.  Moonrise was ripping the werewolves' bodies apart and reshaping them.  Sirius saw Brian go pale as he turned toward the wall separating him from his brother.  He reached out and put a hand against the wall.  Sirius suddenly felt very cold, as if dozens of ghosts filled the room.

"I'll never get used to hearing that," Brian said as he brushed away tears.  "He's in so much pain."

"How long has he been a werewolf?" Sirius asked.  He hoped a conversation, any conversation, would help distract them both from the horrible sounds.

"Since he was sixteen, three years ago."  Brian began pacing the floor in an unconscious imitation of Remus.  "Our dad was killed saving him, and then these wizards—I didn't even know about wizards before that—wizards from 'Werewolf Control' or something showed up and killed the wolf.  They'd tracked him from someplace.  And—God help me—I was glad they killed it—him.  Now I know that it wasn't his fault, but then—he had just killed my dad."  Brian stopped pacing and looked at Sirius, his eyes pleading for understanding.

"Of course," Sirius said softly.

"But then the wizards started saying that it was _good_ my dad had died.  They said that if he had been bitten and lived, he'd be a werewolf too.  And they _laughed_ and said they would have had to kill two werewolves that night instead of one."

"So you kept it a secret that Eddie had been bitten."

"I had to!  They wanted to kill him." Brian's voice was full of anguish now.  "Are they going to kill him?"

"No, Brian," Sirius said as he put an arm around Brian's shoulders, just as Brian had done for Eddie.  "As long as he doesn't hurt anyone, he'll be O.K."  Sirius knew it wasn't as simple as that, but Brian needed reassurance now.

Sirius heard a key turn in the lock and realized that the cries of agony had ceased.  Remus and Eddie had fully transformed.  Muffled sounds of growling and snarling hinted at the dogfight taking place in their cell. 

 "You gentlemen are free to leave now," Charlotte said as she opened the door.  Then she turned and addressed someone outside Sirius's line of sight.  "Unless you'd still like to argue that they are werewolves, Morris?  I will be lodging a formal complaint to your supervisors about your actions tonight."

"You know they'll take my side," he replied smugly as Sirius stepped out into the hallway.  "You and your idiot squib assistant are they only freaks in the ministry who _like_ monsters."

Sirius wanted to pound the smug look off his face.  He charged at Burdock, but James grabbed him and struggled to hold him back.  

"Let me go, James!  He tried to kill us!"

"Just once, Padfoot, don't make things worse!  Think about Remus!"

"FUCK!"  Sirius knew he was right, but he was _not_ happy about it. He pulled away from James and stalked to the end of the hallway where he could slouch against the wall and watch Burdock from a safe distance.  He saw Burdock return the two confiscated wands to James, and James pocket them both.  He saw Charlotte Stirling put a hand on Brian's arm and speak to him reassuringly.  He was close enough to hear everything that was said, but all he heard was the blood pounding in his ears.  Burdock had arranged things tonight so one friend would kill another, so one brother would kill another, and he would get away with it.

Sirius was so intent upon watching Burdock leave that it took a few moments to register that the person Burdock passed on the stairs was none other than Peter.  James assured Peter that Remus was safe (he and Eddie were already much quieter).  Peter explained that Mrs. Lupin had sent him to the Werewolf Support Services office to look for Charlotte Stirling and to ask for her assistance in locating Remus.

After assuring Brian that she would soon be in touch, Charlotte returned to Greystone to relieve Lily.  Brian opted to spend the night in the unlocked cell, where James conjured a bed for him.

"Go home and get some rest, Sirius," James said.

"We are _not_ leaving Remus here alone.  I don't trust that bastard."  As he spoke, Sirius looked up the stairs Burdock had climbed.

"I'll stay," James said.  "I think you need to go cool off.  Come back early tomorrow morning with clothes for Remus.  He didn't get a chance to undress before transforming, so that robe is history."

"I'll come with you, Sirius," Peter said.  "I'll buy you a drink at the Leaky Cauldron.  You look like you could use one."

"Yeah—thanks, Peter."

* * * * *

Peter put a second pint in front of Sirius.  "O.K., Padfoot, talk.  You've hardly said two words since we got here, and that's definitely abnormal for you."

Sirius leaned back in his chair and stared up at the heavy beams supporting the ceiling.  "Yeah—it's just—oh, hell."

Peter chuckled.  "Wow, the Registry creep achieved the impossible.  He left Sirius Black speechless."

Sirius scowled.  "No, about him I have plenty to say.  He's a fuckin' sadistic bastard.  Locking up three _possible_ werewolves in a cell with one known werewolf.  I was willing to believe he made a mistake with me, but me and Brian, no.  He was trying to kill us.  _And,_ I'm willing to bet all the money in my—scratch that—in James's Gringotts' vault that he's done this before."

"Big bet," Peter said with a frown.  "Unfortunately, I think you're right."  

They both sat in silence for a few moments.  Peter drew a circle on the table with spilled foam, and Sirius raked his fingers through his hair with a sigh.

"Tonight was so bizarre," Sirius murmured.  "Remus—"  Peter waited patiently for Sirius to collect his thoughts.  "Everything was fine until we found out that Brian wasn't a werewolf.  I mean, I had no idea how I could keep two werewolves away from him all night, but I had to try.  I had no choice, did I?"

Peter shook his head.  "No, I guess not.  That's who you are."

"But Remus—"  Sirius wasn't sure if he should continue.  He couldn't comprehend why Remus had said the things he did.  He was torn between seeking Peter's possible insight and keeping the matter private.

"You can tell me," Peter urged.  "We don't have secrets between the four of us."

"You're right."  Sirius took a large gulp of beer, _"For courage,"_ and stared down at the table away from Peter's eyes.  "Remus told me to let them kill Brian."  Sirius glanced up at Peter's face and was relieved that he did not seem horrified.

"Did he give a reason?" Peter asked calmly.

"Yeah, he said that they'd kill me if I tried to protect him, and he didn't think it was worth risking my life."

"That makes sense."

"WHAT DO YOU MEAN, 'THAT MAKES SENSE'?" Sirius shouted.  The half dozen patrons of the Leaky Cauldron all turned to stare, and Sirius lowered his voice to an angry growl.  "If saving someone's life isn't worth risking your own life, then what is?"

"For some people, _nothing_ is worth the risk."  Peter then leaned in closer, as if what he had to say was being shared in the strictest of confidence.  "Sirius, you're an idealist.  You would lay down your life for another's without a second thought, so you assume everyone else would do the same.  But people like you are rarer than you think."

Sirius didn't want to believe the bleak picture Peter was painting, and he shook his head at the thought.

"No, listen to me."  Peter spoke with conviction.  "James would do it.  He proved it the night he risked his life to save Snape in the tunnel."

"Thank you for bringing that up," Sirius snapped.

"But before tonight, I had no idea how you or Remus would react in that sort of situation."  Peter stared at Sirius intently.  "You were willing to risk your life to save that Muggle.  And Remus told you—he came right out and told you—that he didn't think it was worth the risk.  If your roles had been reversed, he would have let the Muggle die."

"No!" Sirius said angrily.  "I can't believe that.  Not Remus."  But Sirius was starting to believe it, and it made him feel sick inside.

"Don't be angry at him," Peter continued.  "As I said before, people like you and James are rare.  Remus is the norm.  Most people would opt for self-preservation."

Sirius saw a possibility that Peter was misreading Remus.  "But he didn't keep opting for self-preservation.  Once he accepted that I was going to fight, he encouraged me to fight to kill.  He encouraged me to kill _him_."

Peter sat back and considered this.  He put his hands flat on the table and stared down at them.  As he looked up at Sirius, he pulled his hands back and hid them under the table.

"He was telling you what he'd do if the roles were reversed.  He would kill you to save himself."

"No," Sirius whispered, and then again more forcefully, "No, he wouldn't do that, not Remus.'

"Sirius," Peter said with a sigh, "for someone so smart, you can be completely stupid.  It's like you're wearing blinders.  You ignore what you don't want to see."

Sirius wanted this conversation to end.  He wished it had never begun.  He didn't want to believe the things he was starting to believe, but he couldn't bring himself to stop Peter either.

"You know that Remus is a werewolf," Peter continued, "but you don't understand what it means." 

"_Don't _even go there, Peter," Sirius warned.  "One more bigoted comment tonight and I'll explode."

Peter held up a hand to silence him.  "Please, let me finish—then you can get angry if you want."  Sirius leaned back with a scowl and crossed his arms.  "Remus is always telling us that he is controlled by both wolf instincts and human thoughts.  In a situation like tonight's, the wolf's instinct of self-preservation plus the human evaluation of the danger, _both_ would tell him not to risk his life.  And, _if_ he chose to fight, like you did, the wolf instinct would be to fight to kill—not to injure, not to hold you at bay—to kill."

Sirius dropped his head and dug into his eyes with the heels of his hands_.  "I don't want to hear this; I don't want to know this."  _

"Don't get me wrong," Peter added.  "I love Remus like a brother, I do.  But if my life were in danger, I'd rather have you or James by my side."

Silence filled the air while Peter let Sirius reflect on what had been said, let him see Remus through new eyes.  When Sirius finally spoke, he asked one question.

"What about you, Peter?  Would you risk your life to save someone else?"

Peter smiled slightly.  "I don't think anyone knows until it happens to them.  Of course, I'd like to believe that I would, but—  Do I know for sure?"  He shook his head.

* * * * *

After a few hours of troubled sleep, Sirius got ready to return to the office building housing Werewolf Support Services and the Beast Division of the Ministry of Magic.  After packing an old pair of jeans and a sweatshirt for Eddie, he went into Remus's room to get one of his robes.  He found himself staring at the embroidered pillow that read, "Amamus Lupum."

"Cave lupum," Sirius whispered.

_Please, please review!  I really want to know what you think, good, bad, or indifferent.  This chapter just poured out—I couldn't wait to write the Leaky Cauldron scene.  Who hates Peter? Me!_


	4. Nightmares

**A/N:**  This chapter is dedicated to Episcopal Witch; her emails helped me see where "Cave Canem" should go after the third chapter.

**Disclaimer:**  The cute werewolf, his sexy flatmate, and their entire world belong to J.K. Rowling.

Cave Canem 

**Chapter Four: Nightmares**

            Caged.  Trapped.  The wolf wanted to break free.  To run free.  To hunt.  Hunger.  Desire. The wolf wanted to feel his teeth sink into human flesh and tear it free.  To taste human blood as it pooled on his tongue and slid warmly down his throat.  He tore at his shoulder in frustration.  The flesh and blood were warm, but they didn't quench the desire.

            A soft sound, the scuff of leather on hard-packed earth. The wolf's sharp ears swiveled toward the sound a moment before the muzzle followed.  The wolf stood still, listening for another sound, scenting the air.  The scent of his own blood filled the air, but below were other scents: wood, dust, mildew.  The usual scents of the room, not the scent of the possible prey.  But the sound, leather scuffing the hard-packed earth of the tunnel, repeated.  Prey.

            The wolf clawed at the trapdoor in the floor.  He needed to get to the tunnel, to the prey.  He could hear footfalls clearly now, coming closer.  Human footfalls.  Prey.  His claws caught the edge of the wood and pulled the trapdoor up.  It slipped off his claws and fell back with a dusty puff of air.  It had only been ajar for a moment, but a new scent filled his nose.  Human.  Prey.

            The wolf clawed at the trapdoor more frantically.  Where was the dog?  The dog would set him free.  The dog would push the door open from below.  The dog would hunt with him.

            His claws caught the edge again.  He pulled up as he twisted his body around and squeezed his muzzle into the opening.  As he wriggled forward, forcing his head and then his shoulders under the door, he heard a new sound.  He froze and listened.  More footfalls.  Faster.  Running toward him.  The scent of another human filled his nose.  The wolf jerked forward sending the weight of the trapdoor off his shoulders and crashing to the floor.

            The wolf struggled to squeeze through the opening.  A shout.  Words he couldn't understand.  Should he understand?  The wolf dropped down to the tunnel floor in a crouch.  The humans ran.  The wolf pursued.  His nose filled with the scent of humans, his paws pounded the dirt floor, the distance between hunter and prey disappeared.  This is what every night should be.

            A dim light ahead.  He couldn't let the humans reach the light.  The wolf leapt at the nearer human.  Claws dug into the human's back as the wolf's weight drove him to the ground.  A pair of glasses on the ground were trampled under his paw as his teeth sank into human flesh, and warm blood spurt onto his muzzle and into his mouth.

            Remus awoke drenched in cold sweat.  His heart pounded—adrenaline from the hunt.  He licked his bottom lip as if imagining blood to be there still—then, realizing what he was doing, he angrily wiped at his mouth with the back of his hand.

            Four nights in his own bed since the night he had almost killed Brian—and possibly Sirius—and he'd had this nightmare every night.  It was a familiar one.  He had been tortured by it many, many times in the months following the night he almost killed James and Severus.  Eventually, he'd been haunted by it less frequently.  Now it was back, just the same as before.  No, not _quite_ the same.  Three years ago, the ending of the dream varied.  Sometimes he killed James.  Sometimes he killed Severus.  Sometimes they escaped.  This time, every dream ended the same.

            Remus looked at the softly glowing clock on the bedside table.  _"Almost five o'clock.  Might as well stay awake.  Rather not risk another nightmare. Reading will work.  Get lost in a book."  _Remus brought forth a flame on the candle on the bedside table.  He frowned at the sight of _The Quarterly Journal of the Royal Society for the Design of Wards and Protective Spells_ beside the candlestick_.  "Too dry,"_ Remus thought, _"easier to get lost in fiction."_  Unfortunately, the novel he was currently reading, _The Crystal Cave_, was out in the main room.  It was a Muggle novel about Merlin, and the magic in it was, of course, inaccurate, but Remus was enjoying the story of the resourceful young Merlin.

            He grabbed an old pair of sweatpants out of the bottom drawer of the dresser.  The early morning chill ruled out prowling around the flat in boxers and a t-shirt.  He left his room quietly, careful not to wake Sirius—Sirius was not a morning person.  Nor was Remus for that matter, at least not normally.

            Remus was quite surprised, therefore, to see Sirius in the kitchen.  Sirius seemed just as surprised to see Remus.  He stood staring at Remus, a mug raised halfway to his mouth.  For a moment, he had the slightly guilty look of a child caught stealing a biscuit before dinner.  Then he grinned at Remus.

            "Couldn't sleep either?"

            "No," Remus replied as he took a seat on a stool at the kitchen counter.  "Had a nightmare.  You?"

            "Nightmare," Sirius replied matter-of-factly as he poured a mug of coffee for Remus.  "What was yours about?"

            "You _don't _want to know."  Remus accepted the mug gratefully.  Ordinarily, he preferred tea, but somehow, this morning called for coffee.

            "Do you want something to eat?  We have—"

            "NO!" Remus replied too quickly and too sharply.  _"After that dream, I couldn't eat anything without choking on it."_  Seeing the startled look on Sirius's face, he smiled apologetically.  "Thanks, but the coffee's fine."

            "Suit yourself."  Sirius drank the last of his coffee.  "Just don't expect me to offer again when I get back."

            "Where are you off to at five in the morning?"

            "Thought I'd go for a run as long as I'm up."  Sirius paused at the door to the hallway and looked back at Remus.  "You don't want to come, do you?  The more, the merrier."

            _"Actually, a run is exactly what I need,"_ Remus thought, but he had noted the way Sirius had worded the question—he didn't really want Remus to go with him.  "No thanks, Sirius.  I think I'll read for awhile."

            Sirius gave a wave and was gone.  Remus stared down into the dark depths of the coffee.  "No, Sirius," Remus spoke aloud although alone, "you _don't_ want to know that the wolf is furious at James for denying him prey, _again_, and is dreaming of killing him."

            Remus slipped off the stool, flicked off the kitchen light, and crossed to the window that looked out onto the dark street below.  "And Sirius?  If you want me to believe you're going out running, wear sneakers instead of boots."

* * * * *

            Sirius followed Remus and Charlotte Stirling through the empty Muggle house.

            "The Ministry said that Eddie could transform here at home as long we set up silencing charms and a moon ward," Charlotte explained to the two young wizards.  "Will you set them up?"

            "Of course," Remus replied.  Charlotte opened a door in the kitchen and Sirius followed Remus down the creaking wooden stairs into the cellar.  At the base of the stairs, they discovered themselves in a brick-walled room with a vaulted ceiling.  Eddie was waiting, calmer and more confident than the last time they had met.  Sirius turned around and saw the silver lined door, and in the doorway, not Charlotte, but Gwen.

            "The full moon will be rising soon," she said with the smile Sirius had once loved.  "Good-bye, Sirius."  She closed and locked the door.

            As he heard the key turn, Sirius knew, without even attempting it, that he could not transform into Padfoot.  He turned back to Remus and Eddie and saw them both watching him calmly.

            "Help me, Remus.  I can't remember how to transform."

            Remus smiled.  "Don't worry, Sirius.  I'll take care of you."  Remus drew close to his friend and whispered in his ear, "I'll kill you quickly so you won't feel any pain."

            Sirius stared at the dim light leaking around the edges of the window blinds, getting his bearings.  He was unsure if he had realized it was all a dream in the moment just before or just after he awoke.  "Stupid dream," he muttered angrily.  He rolled over and punched his pillow, trying to get comfortable enough to fall asleep again.  _"It's no use,"_ Sirius admitted as he threw back the covers.  _"Quarter of five.  By the time I get back to sleep, I'll need to get up for work anyway."_

            "Lumos," he whispered as he touched the wand on his bedside table, then he dressed in the faint wandlight.  _"As long as I'm awake, I know exactly what I want to go do."_

            Sirius brought his wand with him as he silently made his way to the kitchen.  It was only after he flicked on the overhead electric light, _"Too bright,"_ that he extinguished the light of his wand and tucked it in the large pocket in the front of his dark blue sweatshirt.  "_Coffee—need coffee."_

            It took only a minute to prepare; Sirius was too impatient to brew coffee without magic speeding things up.  He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply as he filled a mug and brought it to his lips.   The rich, warm aroma banished the cobwebs of sleep from his mind.  _"Bye-bye, bad dream,"_ he thought as he took the first sip.

            He was about to take another sip when Remus walked into the room, running his fingers through his messy brown hair.  _"Oh damn, I woke up, Moony.  No, he looks surprised to see me, so couldn't have heard me." _ "Couldn't sleep either?"

            "No.  Had a nightmare.  You?"

            "Nightmare."  _"Moony looks like he needs coffee as much as I do,"_ Sirius thought as he grabbed a second mug out of a cabinet.

            "What was yours about?"  Sirius immediately regretted asking the question.  _"Idiot.  Now he might ask about mine.  Oh, I just dreamed that you were about to kill me."_

            "You _don't_ want to know," Remus replied, and Sirius suspected that his friend was right.

            _"Time to change the subject,"_ Sirius thought.  "Do you want something to eat?  We have—"

            "NO!"

            _"Whoa—where did that come from?"_

            Remus smiled and glanced down at the mug between his palms. "Thanks, but the coffee's fine."

            "Suit yourself.  Just don't expect me to offer again when I get back."  Sirius headed for the door.  He was getting anxious to be on his way.

            "Where are you going at five in the morning?"

            "Thought I'd go for a run as long as I'm up.  You don't want to come, do you?"  Sirius realized that sounded a bit rude, so he quickly added, "The more, the merrier."

            "No thanks, Sirius.  I think I'll read for awhile."

            Sirius smiled as he left the flat and hurried out of the building.  He had feared for a moment that Remus would choose to accompany him.  Ordinarily, he'd enjoy going for a run with his friend, especially since Moony and Padfoot had been denied their opportunity to run together under the full moon this month.  However, this morning it would mean a change in his plans.  Remus would never approve of Sirius taking the risk he was about to take, at least not without a good reason.

            A young man with black hair turned the corner at the end of the street, and a large dog with black fur emerged on the other side.  Padfoot headed for the park and reveled in the simple joy of running free.

**A/N:**  _If this has gotten you in the mood to read some good "Remus's friends are starting to mistrust him" angst, may I humbly recommend "Stag Night" by CLS.  Wow!  But in the meantime, onward to Chapter Five!  Please!_


	5. Playing Both Sides

**A/N:** Everytime I think this story is done, another chapter invades my brain.  This chapter features our favorite rat.  

By the way, after looking up the actual dates of the full moons in 1979, I've gone back and changed some dates in the story.

This chapter is dedicated to CLS for giving me the guts to say, "OK, let's keep the story going beyond Chapter Three."

**Disclaimer:** Peter Pettigrew, those who think he is their friend, and their magical world belong to J.K. Rowling.

**Cave Canem**

**Chapter Five: Playing Both Sides**

_"I really have to stop reading the _DailyProphet_,"_ Peter thought as he scanned an article on the latest family to fall victim to Lord Voldemort.  _"Just gives me nightmares."_   A slight rustle of fabric in the doorway and shadow falling across his desk caused Peter to gasp in fear and drop the newspaper.

            "Sorry, Peter," I didn't mean to startle you," Lily said as she came into the office Peter shared with one other clerk in the Department of Magical Transportation.  "I guess we're all a bit jumpy these days."  Peter had never seen Lily "jumpy" and he blushed in embarrassment that she had seen him so.  

            "I was just caught up in what I was reading, I guess."

            Lily read the upside down headline and sighed sadly.  "Yes, I read about the Weston family this morning.  Those poor children."

            "At least they didn't torture the children," Peter offered, _"unlike the parents."_  As terrified as Peter was of death, pain terrified him even more.  Everett Hollings, the other clerk who shared his office had once described the Cruciatus Curse in such vivid detail that Peter had no doubts that Hollings had witnessed it.  As victim?  As torturer?  Both?  Peter didn't want to know.

            Lily nodded sadly and then forced a smile as she put a white box tied with red string on Peter's desk.   "I felt domestic this morning and made some of those pumpkin muffins that you and James like so much.  Just perform a warming charm before you eat them; they taste better warm."

            "Thanks, Lily," Peter said as he untied the string and lifted the lid to peek at the deep-brown muffins.  "You didn't have to do this."

            "I wanted to.  I knew I had a meeting this morning in the building next to yours, so—  Speaking of which," Lily pulled back the sleeve of her copper-colored robe and looked at her watch,  "I've got to fly.  Bye, Peter!"

            "Bye, Lily."

            The happiness brought Lily brought into the office with her impromptu gift was short-lived.  Apprehension replaced it as Hollings came back to the office a moment later.  Hollings had made his feelings about Muggle-borns all too clear, and Peter was afraid that he had seen Lily leave.  Peter knew he was safer if people didn't associate him too closely with Muggle-borns or with those actively opposing Voldemort.  Of course, anyone who knew him at Hogwarts knew who his friends were, so it was probably too late.

            "Would you like a muffin, Hollings?"

            Hollings stood in the doorway gazing in the direction Lily had gone. "Did that Mudblood Evans make them?"

            "Actually, her last name is Potter now."  Peter folded up the _Daily Prophet_ and prepared to return to his work.

            "_That's_ what disgusts me about Mudbloods," Hollings said in a voice dripping with scorn.  He entered the office and sat on the edge of Peter's desk.  "They come in and pollute the bloodlines of old wizarding families like the Potters.  Unless something is done, we pure-bloods will become an endangered minority."

            Peter made a noncommittal, "Hmmm," as he began to read a letter from the Department of Magical Games and Sports and took notes on the number and locations of portkeys they were requesting for an upcoming professional Quidditch match.  Hollings was not to be deterred from the conversation so easily.

            "When a pure-blood like your friend Potter chooses to marry a Mudblood, he becomes a traitor to our kind."  Hollings picked up the _Daily Prophet_.  "Just like the witch in this family.  That's why she died with her Muggle husband and their half-breed brats."

            Peter felt his blood run cold and struggled to keep his hand steady as he wrote.  Hollings made no secret of his bias against Muggles and Muggle-borns.  He even expressed approval of some actions taken by the Death Eaters, but he always stopped short of admitting any involvement.  Was he about to go that far now?  Peter had long suspected that his officemate was a Death Eater, but he preferred not to know for certain.

            "Of course," Hollings said as he dropped the newspaper in front of Peter, the portrait of a family now dead smiling and waving at him, "I'm only guessing that was the reason.  It's not like I was actually there."  He laughed then, and Peter suddenly imagined Hollings laughing as he looked down at the corpses of the Weston family.

            Hollings returned to his own desk chair and Peter tried to focus on his work.  The sound of his quill scratching across the parchment seemed unusually loud as Peter stared down at the work before him.  Not a sound came from Hollings, no scratching of a quill, no shuffling of parchment.  Peter could feel Hollings's eyes boring into him.

            "It isn't too late for your friend you know."

            "What?"  Peter looked up at this strange statement.

            "They haven't been married long, and there are no children, yet.  If _something_ were to happen to the Mudblood, perhaps while she is _home alone_, people might be inclined to give him a second chance.  Hopefully, he'll choose a bride more wisely next time."  Hollings looked away from Peter and unrolled a parchment on his own desk.  "A true friend would want him to have a second chance."

            _"He wants me to tell him when Lily will be home alone,"_ Peter realized.  Of course Peter knew—he knew very well.  The next full moon was only a week away, and Lily would be home alone all night while James, or rather Prongs, would be with Moony, Padfoot, and Wormtail.  _"He's crazy.  I won't hand Lily over to him, not even to save James."_  Hollings had hinted that he needed certain pieces of information before, and if it was innocuous enough, such as warning him that an certain abandoned cottage on a Scottish moor was being watched, Peter had complied.   It was worth it to stay safe.  But this—this was asking too much.

            Hollings interrupted his reverie.  "You can't play both sides of the street forever, Pettigrew.  Sooner or later, you'll have to choose a side.  The smart man chooses the side that will keep him alive.  Just think it over.  Potter's life might not be the only life you save."

            "This was the moment Peter had been dreading.  His life was being threatened.  Peter had to choose between his own life and another's, between his life and Lily's.  _"There has to be a way to save all of us.   It'll just take planning, like a really elaborate, high-stakes prank.  And if there isn't a way to save all of us—  I'll face that when the deadline comes.  Deadline.  How appropriate."_

            The rest of the day passed in a bizarre imitation of normality.  Peter and Hollings each did their work.  Hollings asked Peter if he wanted to accompany him for lunch; Peter declined, and Hollings did not press.  Later, Hollings politely offered to get Peter a cup of tea when he got one for himself; Peter accepted but did not drink it.  He was almost able to forget that Hollings had threatened his life.  Almost.

            Peter was counting down the last quarter of an hour until he could leave for the day and escape Hollings's scrutiny when there was a soft knock at the office door.  Peter looked up to see Remus leaning against the doorjam.

            "Hi, Peter.  Are you almost done work?"

            "My, you certainly are the popular one today, aren't you, Pettigrew?"  Hollings chuckled.  "Go ahead and take off.  I'll cover for you if the boss pokes his head in the door."

            "Thanks," Peter murmured as he quickly straightened up his desk and put items away.  Peter was on his way out the door when Hollings called him back.

            "Don't forget your muffins, Pettigrew."  He laughed as Peter flushed and grabbed the box.  Remus half-cocked his head and raised his eyebrows slightly—a look Peter easily recognized as Remus's _"I'm dying to ask, but I won't pry"_ look.

            "Lily made them," Peter explained quickly as they headed for the stairs.  He didn't want Remus to develop any incorrect ideas about secret admirers bestowing baked goods.  _"Not that Remus would tease me.  He's the only person I know who's dated less than I have."_

            "Do you have time to talk?" Remus asked.   "I could use your advice about something."

            "Sure.  Fortescue's? or the Leaky Cauldron?"

            "Whichever you prefer."

            "Fortescue's it is," Peter said as they headed away from the governmental district and toward the shops of Diagon Alley.  "So, how is work going, Remus?"

            "Funny you should ask.  As of two and a half hours ago, I'm unemployed, again," Remus replied with false cheer.

            "Why?" Peter exclaimed.

            Remus laughed quietly.  "I think the main reason given was that I'm a filthy, disgusting beast who should be locked up or destroyed instead of being allowed to pretend I'm a normal human being."

            Peter knew only he would hear this unedited version of what had been said.  Sirius and James would get a much tamer version lest they become inspired to hex Remus's former employer.

            "No, I mean—why now?" Peter clarified.  "Usually you get fired right after a full moon, when they when you've been absent."

            Remus shoved his hands deep into the pockets of his robe and sighed.  "My new, dear friend, Morris Burdock of the Werewolf Registry, decided to pay me a visit at work."

            "Oh shit, Remus.  He's just going to keep making your life hell, isn't he?"

            "He'll lose interest in me eventually—I hope."  Remus grabbed the handle of the ice cream parlor door but paused before opening it.  "_Don't_ tell Sirius that Burdock had anything to do with me being fired."

            "I won't—I'm not crazy."

            Remus pulled open the door, and Peter smiled at the familiar cheerful jingle of the bell over the door.  Fortescue's was the only shop in Diagon Alley that Peter knew of with this particular Muggle affectation, so the sound always made him think of ice cream and the less stressful days of childhood.

            "Welcome, gentlemen.  What would you like today?" Florean Fortescue asked with a smile.

            "I'd like a cone, one scoop of Caramel and one of Spicy Pumpkin," Peter replied as he pulled his money bag out of a pocket.  Fortescue scooped up the desired flavors and handed the cone over the counter to Peter.

            "And you, Sir?" he asked Remus.

            "No thank you," Remus replied.

            "Come on, Remus.  My treat," Peter urged.  Seeing Remus's embarrassed hesitation, he added, "You deserve something to go your way today.  You can have _chocolate_."

            Remus grinned and nodded.  "One scoop of Double Chocolate in a cone, please."

            After Remus got his cone and Peter had paid, Remus led the way to a table by the ice cream parlor window, the table farthest from the counter and from Fortescue.  Peter surmised that Remus didn't want Fortescue to overhear.

            "I'm glad I caught you at work," Remus said.  "I didn't want to bother you at home."  Peter nodded.  They both knew that Mrs. Pettigrew's opinion of Remus wasn't much better than his former employer's.

            "So, what did you want to ask me?" Peter began.  "I'm afraid I don't have any job leads right now."

            "No, it's nothing to do with that.  In fact, I decided to come talk to you before I got fired."  Remus licked around the edge of his cone and stayed silent for a minute.  

Peter ate his own ice cream and waited.  When Remus found something difficult to discuss, it was best to let him tell it in his own way.  But Peter did wish he would hurry up; he didn't want to hear his own thoughts.  _"Pumpkin ice cream—pumpkin muffins—Did that Mudblood Evans make them?—perhaps while she is home alone—alone for the full moon— can't play both sides of the street forever—"_

"The truth is, Peter, I'm really worried about the full moon next week."

"What!" Peter flushed with guilt at his own thoughts.  Then calming himself, he asked, "Why?"

"It's because of what happened last month.  I've been having nightmares almost every night since.  It's the same dream every time.  I relive the night I almost killed Severus and James in the tunnel."  Remus returned his attention to the melting ice cream.  Peter couldn't see the connection, but he waited for Remus to explain.  "But in my dream, I kill James.  I think the wolf is angry at James for stealing away his prey."  Remus saw the puzzled expression on Peter's face and explained quietly.  "Last month, I was locked in a cell with a human.  The wolf knew it; he _knew_ he would finally make a kill.  Then just before moonrise, James arrived and—" Remus shrugged and took a bite of the cone.

"And you're dreaming about the night in the tunnel—"

"Because it's the same situation.  The wolf would have killed Severus if James hadn't interfered."

Peter nodded.  "Twice.  No wonder the wolf is pissed.  So the question is, will the wolf attack Prongs?  Will the wolf recognize that Prongs is James?"

"I think I might.  After all, no offense meant, but rats and deer are both prey animals.  The simple fact that I don't try to make you dinner must indicate that I recognize you in some fashion.  I may simply recognize that Prongs is my packmate, or I may recognize that Prongs is James and thus my packmate.  I think it's the former, but the risk that it's the latter is too great.  I can't take the chance."

"What are you going to do?" 

Remus finished his cone and banished his napkin to a nearby trashcan.  "I'm going to spend the night at my mum's, in the shed.  I sent her an owl this morning." 

"You've already decided," Peter said in surprise.  "What did you need to ask me?"

Remus smiled wryly.  "How do I tell James and Sirius?  I hate to tell James that I've been dreaming about killing him.  And I_ really _hate to tell Sirius.  Not only will he be freaked out on James's behalf, but he'll find a way to make it all his fault.  _Anything_ connected to Burdock he considers his fault."

Peter said the first thing that came to mind, "Don't tell them.  Lie."

"Lie to James and Sirius?"  Remus looked surprised but not shocked at this advice. 

Peter laughed.  "Yes, Remus 'I have to visit my sick mother' Lupin should tell a lie.  Don't tell me you've forgotten how."

"O.K.," Remus rubbed the back of his neck as he thought.  "Now I just have to come up with a convincing lie.  I don't think they'll fall for the sick mother story this time."

Peter suddenly realized that he had a possible solution to his own dilemma.  A way to seem to hand over Lily to Hollings, but ensure that she'd be safe.  And if the plan didn't protect her, it would at least deflect suspicion off Peter.

"Whatever you come up with, Remus, don't tell them until the last possible minute."

"Why not?"

"You don't want to give them time to talk you out of it, or to look into your story too closely.  In fact, let the rest of us gather at James and Lily's as usual, but instead of you arriving, an owl arrives with your excuse."

* * * * *

Hollings left Peter alone for the remainder of the week, but Peter knew it wasn't out of kindness.  Hollings was allowing the tension to build.  By Friday morning, Peter had become quite anxious.  The full moon was Monday night, and he had to speak to Hollings before that.  However, he needed Hollings to bring the subject up.  Peter didn't want to seem overly eager to share the information.  Fortunately, Hollings seemed to think that he had given Peter enough time to stew.  Just one hour into the workday, Hollings suddenly shut the office door with a wave of his hand.

"So, Pettigrew, have you decided whose lives are worth more to you?"

"Do you promise nothing will happen to James?"  The words _"or to me?"_ were unspoken, but just as real to both men as the spoken ones.

Hollings rose from his own desk and sat on the edge of Peter's.  With a touch, he lit one of the candles on Peter's desk.  In a soft voice, he said,  "Sooner or later, someone will go to their home.  If both are home—" Hollings slowly passed his hand over the flame, "but if only the Mudblood is home—"

Peter was silent for a few moments.  He wanted to give the impression that he was struggling with his conscience.  "James is planning to go out Monday night with me and two other friends."

"When?"

"We'll go out around six-thirty and stay out for at least a couple of hours."

"There are wards and protective spells around their house."  It was not a question.  Peter nodded and swallowed hard.  "What do you know about them?"

"Not very much," Peter admitted.  Hollings picked up the candle and tipped it, dripping hot wax on Peter's hand. 

"All I know it that James, Lily, and Remus each did some," Peter added quickly.  "I know that Remus set up a ward that recognizes certain people and allows them in.  Anyone else has to be invited in by someone inside."

Hollings returned the candle to the desk.  "Does it recognize you?"

"Yes, but—but I'm supposed to be with James."  Peter felt a sharp tug as Hollings pulled out a few strands of his hair.  _"Polyjuice potion,"_ he thought.  _"I wonder if that will fool the ward.  I can't exactly ask Remus."_

"Well, Peter," Hollings said in a cheerful voice as he returned to his own desk.  "You've earned a reward.  Is there any problem you need solved?"

"No, I don't think—" Peter suddenly realized that he didn't have a problem, but Remus did.  "Actually, I would be very happy if a certain Ministry employee were convinced to retire early."

"Me?" Hollings laughed.

"I wouldn't mind that," Peter admitted, "but the person I meant is named Morris Burdock.  He works for the Werewolf Registry."

"Done.  What do you have against him—or, rather, what does he have against you?"

"That's my business," Peter said as he waved his wand at the office door to open it again.

* * * * *

"Come on in, Peter.  James and Sirius are in the kitchen burning dinner," Lily said as she opened the front door.  The last part was said loudly enough to carry back into the kitchen.

"I heard that, Lily!  Just for that, no venison for you!" Sirius shouted back.

"Venison?"  Peter pulled off his cloak and allowed Lily to hang it in the closet.

"He's just teasing James.  We're having roast beef." 

"Yum, and roasted potatoes?" Peter asked as they both walked into the kitchen.  

"Of course," James replied.  "After all, we can't let the carnivores have all the fun, can we, Wormtail?"

"Don't worry, Spikehead," Sirius laughed.  "I'm making a salad.  Don't want you to commit cannibalism by eating the venison.  Oh sure, Lily _says_ it's beef, but she can't fool me." 

"Where's Remus?"  Peter asked as he watched Sirius tearing lettuce into pieces.

"He spent the weekend at his mum's, helping her put the garden to bed for the winter.  He didn't have to hurry back for work," Sirius frowned at this, "so he said that he'd be back sometime today.  I'm actually surprised he isn't here already."

As if on cue, an owl tapped at the window.  James was sitting on the counter near the window and reached over to open it.  The owl flew in, dropped an envelope into the salad bowl, and flew out.  Sirius read the envelope silently, opened the letter, and read aloud.

"Dear Everyone,  

Sorry I'm not there.  I planned to leave today, but Mum insists that I stay for a few more days.  She told me to give her one good reason why I should spend the full moon at your house instead of here.  I've got a good reason, three good reasons, in fact, but I can't tell her that.  So…I'm stuck here.  Feel free to cook the meat beyond rare, Lily.  I'm not there to complain that it's overcooked.  

Missing you all more than you know, Remus   

P.S.  I really wish I were there to have some venison." 

Peter felt a brief moment of shock at the post-script before he realized that Sirius had ad-libbed it_.  "He wouldn't have said that if he knew the real reason Remus isn't here.  Well, Stage Two of the plan begins."_

"Damn.  Poor Remus," James sighed.  "He hates that shed."  Lily moved closer to James, and he put an arm around her.  Sirius resumed tearing lettuce, more forcefully this time.

"Let's go there," Sirius said suddenly.  "We can't let him be alone."

Peter felt a brief moment of panic.  _"That's not the plan."_

"You know you can't, Sirius," Lily said sadly.  "Mrs. Lupin would want to know why you're there."

"So, we'll tell her," Sirius snapped.  "She's experienced at keeping secrets."

James shook his head.  "Remus made it clear that he'd prefer to stay there alone rather than tell his mum about us, but _you_ get to decide it's O.K. to tell her.  No."

"Even if she did know that we're animagi, you know she'd insist that Remus be locked up for the night," Peter pointed out.  "If she were even to suspect that he hasn't really been spending the full moon in James and Lily's cellar, she'd never let him out of her sight for the full moon again."

"Damn," Sirius said under his breath.

_"Crisis averted,"_ Peter thought with relief.  Then he smiled and said, "Well, since Mr. Moony can't be with us, I vote that Mrs. Prongs should be the fourth member of our party on our outing tonight."

Lily smiled back.  "Thank you, Mr. Wormtail, but traipsing around the woods at night does not appeal to me."

"That wasn't what I had in mind.  After all, we do the outdoor thing for Mr. Moony's benefit.  Tonight, we should do something that appeals to Mrs. Prongs.  A Muggle movie, perhaps?"

"Ooh—" she looked up at James with a smile.  "I haven't been to a movie in ages."

"May I throw popcorn at people?" Sirius asked.

* * * * *

Between the movie and the pub afterward, Peter managed to keep Lily and James away from their house from six-thirty until almost eleven o'clock.  He stood in the front hall of his mother's house staring at the grandfather clock.  

"I hope we stayed out long enough.  I hope the Death Eaters came and went.  I hope they didn't wait for them to return.  I hope Hollings believes me tomorrow when I explain that our plans changed at the last minute.  God, I hope he believes me tomorrow."

"Peter!  Peter, are you there?"

Peter jumped at the sound of Sirius's voice coming from the living room and quickly hurried in.  Sirius's head was floating in the flames of the fireplace.

"What's wrong, Sirius?"

"Just come to the flat right away.  James and Lily are here.  They—just come over—_please_."

"O.K., let me grab my cloak."  A few moments later, Peter was standing outside the door to Sirius and Remus's flat.  Sirius opened the door before he could even knock.

"Come on in, Peter."

James and Lily were sitting on the sofa still wearing their jackets over the Muggle clothes they had worn out for the evening.  He had one arm wrapped around her, pulling her close, and was holding her hand with his other hand.  A sheet of long hair obscured Lily's face as she sat with her head tipped down against James's shoulder.  James looked over the top of her head at Peter and nodded slightly in acknowledgement.  The usual sparkle was absent from his eyes, his skin was pale, and there was a hard set to his jaw.

_"I've never seen him so tense,"_ Peter thought_.  "Yes I have.  He looked like this when Remus had to face the Committee for the Disposal of Dangerous Creatures."_  "What happened?" Peter asked.  _"How close was it?"_

"Someone tried to break into our house while we were out," James replied.  He tried to sound calm, but Peter knew him too well to believe it.  "They got through about half of the wards."

"Someone?" Peter asked as he sank into a chair.

"Death Eaters don't leave their calling card unless they've been _successful_," Sirius growled.  "But who else?"

Lily pulled her hair back behind her ear as she lifted her head and looked at Peter.  Her eyes and nose were red.  "They killed Uther.  He was out hunting and must have come home while they were there."  Uther, a barn owl, had been one of the first gifts James had given Lily.

"Thank God you weren't home," Peter told her.  James pulled Lily tighter and closed his eyes.  "I guess we should thank Remus for staying at his mum's.  If we hadn't changed our plans—"

"We _know_, Peter," Sirius said sharply.  Then in a softer voice, he addressed James and Lily.  "Why don't you two go to bed.  Peter and I will stay up." Peter nodded emphatically.  He had no qualms about being on guard duty.  He knew the danger was past, for tonight at least.

James nodded once.  "Come on, Lily."  They rose from the sofa and went hand in hand into Remus's room.  Peter waited until the door closed before he spoke again.

"Which wards did they get through?"

Sirius shook his head.  "I didn't ask.  We'll sort it out in the morning."  Sirius sank onto the sofa, into James's vacated place.  Sighing, he dropped his head and raked his fingers through his hair.

"I was just wondering if they were the ones Remus set up," Peter persisted.

Sirius looked up sharply and fixed Peter with an icy glare.  "Why?" he demanded.

Peter knew he had touched a nerve—even more easily than he expected.  "Well—uh—because Remus set up virtually the same ones here and at my house.  And if they can get through them—"

"Oh."  Sirius relaxed somewhat.  "We'll find out tomorrow."

Peter decided to embed the suspicion deeper.  "Do you think they knew Lily would be home alone tonight?"

"No," Sirius shook his shaggy head, "we're the only ones who know that Lily's always alone for the full moon."  Peter saw a brief flicker of panic in Sirius's eyes as he realized the implication of what he had just said.

"You're right," Peter agreed.  "They were probably after both James and Lily."  _"Should I push further?"_ he wondered.  _"Yes, better they suspect Remus than me."_  Peter stood and moved nearer the photo Lily had taken of the full moon.  "But still, she's more vulnerable alone, and she would have been alone tonight.  Thank God that Remus changed his mind at the last minute," he paused, "and stayed at his mum's."

* * * * *

Peter awoke to the sound of tapping; an owl wanted to be let in at the window.  Peter watched Sirius open the window and pay the bird for the morning's copy of the _Daily Prophet_.  Peter stood up from the chair slowly and stretched his neck from side to side_.  "Oh, it's stiff.  Shouldn't have slept in a chair."_  

"When did I fall asleep?"

"A couple of hours ago," Sirius replied.  "I made some coffee.  Do you want some?"

"I'd rather have tea."  Sirius started toward the kitchen.  "Sit.  I know where everything is.  Do you want to go get some sleep?"

"No, I've got the day off, so I'll sleep later."  Sirius sat at the kitchen counter and watched Peter brew his tea.  "I want to be awake when James and Lily get up.  I don't want James to go home without me."

"I won't," James said as he came into the room.  He sat on the stool beside Sirius and gave a tense smile to his friends.

"Did you get any sleep, Jamie?" Sirius asked.

He shook his head.  "Lily did.  I just lay there and watched her all night.  I didn't want to stop looking at her to close my eyes."  Tears spilled down his cheeks as Sirius put a hand on his shoulder.

Peter grabbed another mug.  "Coffee?  Tea?"

"Or me?" Lily said with chuckle.  They all turned to stare at her.  "Sorry, Muggle joke.  Man, so many things go right over your heads."  Sirius vacated his stool so Lily could sit beside James.  Then he went into the kitchen and grabbed a whisk.

"Ze chef will now take ze breakfast ordairs.  Ze chef has been told by many beautiful ladies zat his breakfasts are superb.  Of course, ze ladies are usually ravenously hungry by ze morning after zair very active nights."  Lily giggled and even James smiled.

"Actually, I hate to say this," Peter said, "but I really have to go home and change.  I have to be at work soon.  You don't mind if I leave, do you?"

"Of course not, Peter," James said.  "Staying up all night with Fido was going above and beyond the call of duty as it is.  I know very well the methods of torture he devises to keep people awake."

"I only do that to you, my _dear_ friend."

* * * * *

Hollings didn't come to work that day, much to Peter's relief and confusion.  He had practiced his explanations over and over again in his mind, but there was no one to offer them to.  He was just straightening up his desk in preparation to leave for the day when he heard a woman's voice in the hall.

"Hello, Everett.  We missed you today."

"I wasn't feeling too well this morning, but some Fly Away Flu Potion and a nap, and now I'm feeling fine," Hollings replied.  "I just stopped in to get some work to take home with me."

"Well, aren't you the dedicated one.  I'm sure all your work could wait until tomorrow."

"This can't."

Peter took a deep breath as he stared at the door waiting for Hollings.  He felt the outside of his pocket and made sure his wand was there.  Hollings came to the doorway and stared at Peter with narrowed eyes.

"Hello, work," Hollings said quietly.  "I've come to take you home with me."  Peter nodded and bit his lower lip. 

Another man fell into step on the other side of Peter as soon as he left the building with Hollings.  He looked vaguely familiar.  Peter thought he may have been at Hogwarts with him, but several years older.  The three walked in silence past Gringott's and into Knockturn Alley.  Just past a shop advertising, "Potions for Those Requiring Discretion," there was an unmarked grey door.  Hollings tapped the door with his wand and muttered something under his breath.  He then opened the door and revealed a short hallway with a staircase at the end.  Peter went in and looked up the stairs.  The stairs disappeared into darkness.  Peter wasn't sure he could actually force his legs to climb those stairs. _ "Walking into my own imprisonment.  This must be the way Remus feels about walking into the shed just before the full moon."_  Hollings then tapped the banister with his wand, twice, and spoke quietly again.  The staircase shimmered before Peter's eyes and was gone.  _"No, still there, but now it leads down."_

"After you, Pettigrew," Hollings said with a smile.  Peter reached for the smooth black banister with a shaking hand and began to descend.  He had just reached the point where it was too dark to see the treads when a sudden pain in the center of his back sent him flying off the stairs and crashing flat onto the floor at the base of the stairs.  The impact forced the air from his lungs, and as he gasped for breath, he felt a searing pain from his ribs.

"Tsk, tsk, Everett," spoke someone already in the basement.  "You might break his neck doing that.  We don't want him dead—yet.  Show a little patience."  Peter carefully pulled himself to a crouch and looked into the darkness where he judged the speaker to be.  A bright light flared directly in front of Peter and he squinted as his eyes adjusted.  The man who spoke stood directly beneath the light.  He wore a black cloak and his hood was pulled over his head concealing his face.  Peter tried to stand, his injured ribs protesting the movement.

"Stay down!" barked the man who had accompanied Peter and Hollings through the streets.  Peter fell back onto his knees and sat on his heels.

"We have a little problem, Peter," the hooded man said in a soft voice.  "We couldn't get through all the wards last night.  Someone did a very thorough job of protecting the Potters' house."

Peter waited nervously_.  "The less I say, the better."_

"Everett said that you only knew how to get past one ward.  Is this true?" Peter nodded.  "I said, 'Is this true?'  _Crucio_."

Every centimeter of his skin was being simultaneously sliced with flaming knives while the muscles twisted and contorted, breaking the bones they clung to.  Then the feelings disappeared as swiftly as they began.  Peter lay on the floor gasping for breath amazed to see that none of his limbs were broken, that none of his skin was bleeding.

"Is this true?"

"Yes," Peter gasped.  _"Oh God, I don't know enough for them to bother keeping me  alive."  _"I'd tell you more if I knew it, I swear!"

"This is indeed a problem, Peter," the hooded man said sadly.  "You see, we had a deal."

"A deal?" Peter pushed himself up to kneel again.

"We take care of your little problem, and you give us a Mudblood in return.  We held up our end of the contract—"

_"Burdock,"_ Peter realized.

"Two werewolf associates of mine were more than happy to invite Morris Burdock to _dinner_ last night."  Hollings and his associate laughed cruelly.  "But you didn't hold up your end. You didn't deliver."

"I told Hollings all I knew," Peter protested.  "Hollings said that was enough."

"Everett was mistaken," the hooded man said coolly.  "He has spent the day paying for his mistake.  So, now we have to rectify the balance sheet.  You owe us one life, Peter.  Will you pay with your own?  Or is there a Mudblood you _can_ deliver to us?  You have one week to pay your debt.  No more. 

"In the meantime, you are about to learn a little lesson about our hierarchy.  The Dark Lord took out his disappointment on me, I took out my anger on Everett, and now Everett is welcome to take out his anger on you.  

"Just remember to keep him alive, Everett.  He has one week to live."

* * * * *

Peter watched Hollings examine the map that Peter had given him, learning where to apparate to.  _"Burdock was Remus's problem, and I got rid of him,"_ Peter rationalized.  _"Remus owes me."_

Hollings rolled up the map and nodded at Peter.  Peter disapparated, and a moment later he stood in a dark garden looking at a small cottage.  He saw Hollings apparate a short distance away and waited for him to draw near.  Peter looked away from the cheerful warm light pouring out of the cottage windows and up to the cold light of the waning moon, almost to third quarter.  

_"Burdock was going to keeping torturing Remus.  Remus owes me,"_ Peter repeated.  He led the way up the garden path and knocked on the door.  As they waited, Peter wasn't sure if he wanted the door to open.  When it did open, a woman smiled at the sight of Peter.

"Why hello, Peter!"

"Hello, Mrs. Lupin."

"Are you looking for Remus?  He went back to London yesterday."

"No, I'm here to see you.  This is my friend Everett Hollings."

"Come in, come in, of course.  Nice to meet you, Everett."


	6. The Funeral

Disclaimer:  Every character of importance and the world they inhabit belong to J.K. Rowling.  The idea of Remus's dad abandoning him a year after he was bitten comes originally from "Cub Scout" by Moon.  (I liked the idea so much that it tends to pop up in most of my stories.)

**Cave Canem**

**Chapter Six: The Funeral**

Sirius stood shoulder to shoulder with Remus as they watched those gathering at the graveside.  He wanted to put an arm around his friend, to support Remus physically as well as emotionally, but he needed his hand near the wand in his robe pocket.  He knew that James, standing on Remus's other side, was watching those gathering just as attentively.  It was not unknown for Death Eaters to come to the funerals of their victims and quietly strike again.  Crowds were almost as useful as darkness in providing anonymity.

However, the small group gathering to say goodbye to Julia Lupin could not truthfully be called a crowd.  Perhaps some had stayed away out of fear.  But, undeniably, the main reason was that she had so few friends.  After Remus was bitten, and her husband had left them, Julia Lupin had retreated into a self-imposed exile with her son.  She had shielded him from the world's scorn by hiding him from the world.  It was only after Remus began Hogwarts that she had dared to work outside the home and had made a few casual friends.  From her former friends and her Muggle relatives, she remained distant.

A handful of witches and wizards whom Sirius did not recognize stood with a witch he knew to be Mrs. Lupin's employer at a small magical publishing firm, Emrys Press.  _"Friends from work."_  Professor Dumbledore arrived with Professor McGonagall and Madame Pomfrey.  They quietly greeted a small clump of recent Hogwarts graduates._  "Here for Remus's sake." _ Horatio Sinistra, an auror, arrived with his brother Nelson, Nelson's wife, Helena, and a man who Sirius did not recognize.  He remembered then that most of Mrs. Lupin's stories about her own Hogwarts days had featured, "My friend, Helena."  He wondered if Mrs. Sinistra and Mrs. Lupin's school friend were one and the same.  He did recall that Remus was distantly related to the Sinistras.

"That's my mother's sister, Claudia, and her husband, Walter Evesham," Remus said quietly as he nodded in the direction of two people in Muggle clothing hanging back from the witches and wizards.  From the other side of James, he heard Lily whisper.

"I'm going to stand with Remus's aunt and uncle.  They look a little lost."

"Later," James said tensely.  "Stay near me." 

"Who's the man with the Sinistras?" Sirius whispered to Remus.

"No one important; just their second cousin."

Sirius saw his own mother arrive.  He quickly looked away from her; the last time he had seen her in a black robe had been his own father's funeral.  He didn't want to be reminded of the similarities just now.  Peter sniffling beside him was not helping in his efforts to stay in control.  Remus, on the other hand, seemed completely calm.  _Seemed_ was the key word.  Sirius had witnessed Remus's reaction when he had learned of his mother's murder.

* * * * *

_"Bloody report—wasting my time when I could actually be doing something," _Sirius thought as he scribbled out an incident report on a minor skirmish that had occurred the night before outside the home of a high-ranking Ministry employee.  An alert neighbor had summoned Aurors while Death Eaters were trying to breach the wards protecting the house.  Unfortunately, all three Death Eaters had escaped.  

A knock at the door caused Sirius to look up for a moment at Frank Longbottom, but he immediately returned his attention to the report.

"Almost finished the ruddy report, Frank, and then we go play bodyguards for—"

"Change of plans.  Word just came in of another attack last night—a murder."  

Sirius kept writing.  It was hardly an unusual occurrence.  "Just one death?" he asked without looking up.

"Yeah, just one," Frank replied.  "Julia Lupin."  A blot appeared on the report as Sirius momentarily pushed down too firmly with the quill.  He dropped the quill and sat back in the chair to stare at Frank.  "James is there now with Avis.  I'm on my way.  James said that he'd met you at your flat as soon as he can."  Sirius nodded dumbly and stood up.  

"I need to tell Remus," Sirius said.  His voice sounded flat even to himself.  He moved around the desk, grabbed his cloak, and began down the hall with Frank at his side.  "I hate when we have to tell people that someone—and now I have to tell Remus."

"She was his only family, wasn't she?"  Frank asked.  He had been in Gryffindor with them, but a few years ahead.

"Yeah, it was just the two of them."

"I remember because he used to go home so often when she was sick."  

Sirius laughed at this; he didn't know why.  Somehow, in the present circumstances, hearing the old lie just seemed bizarre.  He glanced at the startled look on Frank's face and felt he needed to explain.  However, Remus would not appreciate it if he were to say, "No, Remus's mum didn't have a chronic illness; Remus does." Instead, he just mumbled, "Sorry."

Reaching the outside of the building, Sirius fixed the hallway outside his flat in his mind and disapparated.  He paused only a moment before entering the flat.  Experience had taught him that postponing a difficult task only made it more difficult.  He saw Remus as soon as entered.  Remus was sitting with his back to him as he worked at the writing desk between the windows, but had given him half a glance as the door opened. 

_"These are the last moments in his life that he will define as 'before',"_ Sirius thought as he crossed the room in few steps.  His own life had become defined as 'before' and 'after' with the moment he had learned of his father's murder.  

"Do you need something, Padfoot?" Remus asked as Sirius drew near.

"Um—I need—I have to tell—"

Remus turned and looked up, giving Sirius his full attention.  He frowned slightly as he saw the pained expression on Sirius's face. "What's wrong?  Did something go wrong last night?  Is James O.K.?"  A slight trace of panic was in his voice; only someone who knew him well would notice it.

Sirius nodded and knelt down on one knee so Remus wouldn't look up.  "It's your mum, Remus.  They killed your mum last night."  

 "But—she—_why_?"  Remus clutched Sirius's wrist.

Sirius shook his head.  "James is at her house now.  He can probably answer most of your questions when he gets here, but not that one.  No one will ever be able to explain why good people have to die.  I'm so sorry, Remus."

Remus nodded.  The pained expression on his face disappeared as Remus tried to bury his feelings.

"No, Remus, you don't have to hold—" Sirius heard two small but distinct crackling noises just behind Remus.  He glanced toward the sound and saw that the glass in the framed photos on the desk had cracked.  Suddenly the windows exploded; Sirius instinctively pulled Remus down onto the floor, throwing his own arm over Remus's face to protect him from the flying shards of glass.  Remus tried to pull away from Sirius even before the tinkling sound of falling glass ceased, but Sirius just clung to his friend more tightly.  "Any more?"  Remus shook his head slightly.  

Sirius relaxed his hold, but Remus didn't try to move.  "I'd better make sure no one on the street was hit by falling glass," Sirius said as pulled away.  Pieces of glass fell from his robe and crunched underfoot as he took a few steps and looked out.  Fortunately, it appeared that no one had been passing below.  On the other side of the street, however, a woman had apparently been walking her dog when the window had shattered.  She clutched the cocker spaniel to her chest as she stood staring back at Sirius.

"Are you all right?"  Sirius asked as he smiled and waved at her.  She nodded, but her eyes were wide and frightened.  "Just a little accident; nothing to worry about."  He pulled his head back inside, making a mental note to mention the woman to the Accidental Magic Reversal Squad.  They might want to modify her memory slightly before she reported to the police that Remus and Sirius were IRA terrorists building bombs in their flat.  Fortunately, Padfoot had played with that particular cocker spaniel before, so he knew which building the woman lived in.

Remus was now standing and looking down at the shattered glass.  He had his wand in hand, but was making no effort to repair the damage.  Sirius took his own wand from his pocket and pointed it at a window.  "Reparo!" Shards and splinters of glass flew from the floor, the desk, and the street; they reassembled themselves so perfectly that one would never guess the window had been broken.  Sirius repeated the spell for the other window.  One shard had fallen down into the back of his robe; it nicked his skin as it flew up and out of his robe, but Sirius chose to ignore it.

"Do you want to sit down, Remus?"  Remus sat on the sofa, but he was still staring at the floor.  Sirius almost had the impression that he was sleepwalking, moving without awareness.  "Is there anything I can do?"  Remus did not acknowledge the question.  _"I hate feeling helpless like this," _Sirius thought.  _"I wish James would get here.  He usually knows what to say."_  Not knowing what else to do, Sirius simply sat beside his friend and waited.

* * * * *

The clergyman in somber vestments read prayers from the small black book he carried and spoke familiar platitudes that were meant to be comforting but instead rang hollow.  It didn't help that he hadn't known Julia Lupin.  However, since the vicar of her local church would have been very surprised to see the mourners dressed in robes and pointed hats, and even more surprised to see the coffin levitated into the grave, this wizard who was also an Anglican clergyman was the more appropriate choice.  _"He's becoming all too familiar a face,"_ Sirius reflected._ "I'm going to too many funerals."_

When the coffin had been gently lowered into the grave, Sirius lowered his wand and saw Peter, Remus, and James all do the same.  James then spoke on Remus's behalf, thanking those who came and inviting them to return to the Lupin's home for lunch.    

Peter had set up three portkeys for those who wished to use them to travel to the house, and he pointed them out.  "The three blue spheres, there, just behind you, and there, are the portkeys.  He looked at his watch.  "They'll activate in two and half minutes.  If you wish to use one, please be touching it then." 

Lily and James walked over to the Eveshams and introduced themselves.  Sirius saw James gesture toward the nearest portkey, obviously asking if they wished to travel back to the house in that manner.  Walter Evesham shook his head and gestured up the hill to the road and, undoubtedly, his car.   A few of their Hogwarts classmates drew close to Remus and Sirius.  While Louisa Grey, a Ravenclaw, spoke quietly to Remus, Aoife McLaughlin, one of their Gryffindor classmates, laid her hand on Sirius's arm.  

"How is he holding up?" she asked.

"He'll be all right, in time."

"It's ironic," she said as she looked sadly at Remus speaking with Louisa and another classmate.  "She was so sick for so long, and then to die like this.  Does anyone know why they killed her?"

* * * * *

James dropped his cloak on the floor as he entered the flat.  He crouched down on the floor in front of Remus and looked into his friend's troubled eyes.  "I'm so sorry, Remus.  She was a wonderful person, and I know you're going to miss her terribly.  I'm so, so sorry this happened."

Remus nodded and took one shaky breath.  "Tell me everything."

"It _was_ the Death Eaters.  There wasn't a Dark Mark over the house by the time one of her coworkers found her, but it was pretty late in the morning by then.  There may have been one last night, but no one saw it since she had no near neighbors."

"Why are we so sure it was them?"  Sirius asked.  He knew in his heart that it was, but James seemed certain for another reason.

 "Someone—there was a Dark Mark in the house near her."  Sirius saw James glance down for just a moment as he mentally edited what he was willing to tell Remus.  "The wards were still up when we arrived, and she was in the middle of making tea when she died.  Three tea cups were on the table."

"She knew her killers," Remus concluded.

James nodded.  "It looks like she knew one or both, and she willingly let them in."

"She didn't know many people," Remus said, "and she trusted even fewer."  He seemed to mentally run through a list of people.

"It does narrow down the possible suspects," James agreed, "but the truth is, many people would allow even casual acquaintances in if they have a good excuse for showing up at their door."

Remus nodded, acknowledging that even his cautious mother was not cautious enough for times like these.  "Why?  I mean, why her?  Was there any clue why they chose to kill her?"

"No."

"Then it was because of me, because I've been helping Dumbledore and the Order."

"No, Remus.  Don't even think that!"  Sirius insisted.  

James took a different tack.  "It might have been because of you."  Sirius glared at his usually intelligent friend, who was, he believed, being particularly stupid at the moment.  James ignored him.  "We may never know the reason, but you have to admit there were other possible motives. We're going to look into whatever she was currently working on.  Perhaps the publishing house she works for is about to print something  Voldemort wants suppressed.  And we can't forget that she was Muggle-born, and many Muggle-borns have been targeted for no other reason than that."  The pained look on James's face clearly showed that it was something he could not forget.  The attempt on Lily's life had been less than a week ago.

Remus nodded and put a hand on James's shoulder as if he were the one who needed comforting.  He no longer seemed as certain that his mother's death was linked to himself.  Then he steeled himself to ask his next question. "She was tortured, wasn't she?"

"No," James insisted a bit too eagerly.  

Remus didn't seem to believe him; he fixed James with the "Don't even_ try _to lie to me" glare.  

"She was in the middle of making tea when she died.  The tin of tea fell on the floor beside her.  She probably died before she even realized that she was in danger."

"You avoided telling me something, and don't deny it."  

_"Can't lie to Remus,"_ Sirius thought automatically.

"You're right.  Someone drew the Dark Mark on the floor in her blood, but Avis is certain the wounds were made after she died."

* * * * *

Lily had wisely suggested that they temporarily charm the kitchen and living room to make them more spacious than they normally were.  _"Clever girl,"_ Sirius thought as he squeezed past three of Mrs. Lupin's coworkers and into the kitchen.  Even this small number of people would have overwhelmed the tiny cottage in its normal state.  He found his mother, Lily, and Remus's aunt refilling the platters of food on the kitchen table.

"What can I do to help, Mum?"

"There's nothing left to do in here, at least for a little while.  Just make sure Remus eats something."

"James just brought him a plate, but he's only pushing things around on it."  

Sirius wondered where the Sinistra's cousin was.  In the living room, he had spotted Horatio Sinistra speaking with Frank Longbottom, and Nelson and Helena speaking with Professor McGonagall, but the cousin hadn't been in sight.  And now, he saw that he was not in the kitchen either.  Something about him made Sirius uneasy.  Perhaps it was because he was the only person for whom Sirius could not assign a motive for coming to the funeral.  Perhaps it was because he looked vaguely familiar, but Sirius couldn't place him.  He was just about to go ask Horatio if he had come to the house or left from the cemetery, when through the window, he caught a glimpse of him outside.

"Excuse me," he said to Lily as he slipped behind her and out the door.

The man had just reached the metal shed in the back garden and was headed toward the one tiny window.  Remus had been a bit nervous about everyone seeing the shed.  In his mind, its purpose was completely obvious.  The others had reassured him that it looked like any other garden storage shed, and that no one would pay it any mind.  In fact, in recent years, Remus used it for the full moon so rarely, that his mother had indeed begun using it for storage.  They merely removed the various pots and gardening implements when Remus needed to use it.  _"Remus would have a stroke if he saw how curious this bloke is being.  And why is he so curious about the shed, anyway?"_

"Excuse me.  Can I help you?"

The man turned and blushed slightly, embarrassed at having been found snooping, no doubt.  "I saw it through the window, and I couldn't resist looking more closely.  You're Remus's friend, aren't you?  I saw you standing beside him at the cemetery."

"I'm one of his friends," Sirius answered coldly.  Sirius's initial uneasiness about this man had not been helped by finding him to be so curious about the shed.

"Yes, Professor Dumbledore said that you were all in the same house at Hogwarts, dorm mates."  Sirius nodded once.  The man looked at the shed again.  "Amazing that Dumbledore allowed him to attend.  No other headmaster would have taken the risk."

_"He knows."_  "Who the hell are you, anyway?"

"Sorry, I thought you knew," the man said as he turned back to Sirius.  "I'm—"

"No one," Remus interrupted as he approached them and stood beside Sirius.  "No one who matters." His voice was low, almost a growl, and there was a cold fire in his eyes as he glared at the man.  "He isn't welcome in the house, Padfoot."  Remus addressed the man again.  "I'd give you back her wedding ring, but she sold it years ago to afford my first wand.  The rest of her jewelry was already long gone by then.  It's hard to afford enough food to feed a hungry young werewolf," he smiled sardonically, "but she didn't want me snacking on the neighbors, of course."

Sirius looked between them.  Now he understood why the man looked vaguely familiar.  Remus more closely resembled his mother, but there was something of this man, his father, as well—the jaw line, the way his hair fell into his eyes, the height and build.  Remus started to walk back into the house, confident that Sirius would take care of the situation.

"You have two younger sisters, you know," Mr. Lupin called to Remus.  Remus paused, but did not turn around.

"No, I did not know," Remus replied angrily.  "How could I know when you haven't contacted me in twelve years."  He bowed his head for a moment as if in thought or making a difficult decision.  "If they ever want to meet their brother, _the monster_, I'll be happy to meet them, but I do not _ever_ want to see you again.  Do you understand?"

Mr. Lupin nodded and then realized that Remus could not see him.  "Yes," he said with a nervous quaver in his voice.

_"He's afraid of Remus,"_ Sirius realized.

Mr. Lupin waited until the door closed behind Remus before he spoke again.  "He hates me.  I assumed that he would, but I hoped that he wouldn't.  He doesn't know my side of it.  I tired and tried to help him, to find a cure for him, but there wasn't anything I could do.  I couldn't bear to watch him suffer."

Sirius looked carefully at this man—he did not wish to think of him as Remus's father, for he had forfeited that role—and he felt pity.  He had been given an opportunity to be a parent to an extraordinary person, but because the job had been more difficult than he expected, he'd abandoned Remus.  Unwilling to watch his son suffer, he'd caused his son even more suffering.  He had missed the opportunity to help Remus grow and mature from the shy, mistrustful boy who struggled daily against the wolf, to the confident young man, who loved and was loved by his friends, who had learned to channel the best of the wolf, and control the rest.  And now, Remus had made it clear that he would miss the opportunity to know the man he had become as well.  

Part of Sirius wanted to say something cruel and cutting—after all, the man before him had hurt his friend very deeply—but the hurt look in his eyes reminded him strongly of the way Remus looked when he was hurt.

"I don't think he ever hated you, before today that is," Sirius said.  "He's missed you terribly for years.  He once bought a Romanian-English dictionary because he heard you might be living in Romania.  But today, all he can think of is what a difficult life his mother had, raising a son who is a werewolf and doing it all alone."  _"Well, maybe it was a bit cutting, but it's the truth."_

Mr. Lupin pushed his hair back out of his eyes, a mannerism Sirius had seen Remus perform many times. "Please tell Nelson and Helena Sinistra that I went back to their house.  I'm going home tomorrow, so Remus doesn't have to worry about running into me anywhere."

_"So you don't have to worry about running into Remus, you mean.  Coward."_ "What are their names?  Remus's sisters, I mean."

"Anna is almost ten, and Nadia is six.  Perhaps—" he bit his bottom lip nervously.  Perhaps it would be best if I wait until they are older to tell them about Remus."  He disapparated before Sirius could say any more.

"Bastard."

Sirius found Remus in the kitchen, listening to a conversation between two of his mother's coworkers.  Remus watched Sirius carefully as he entered the house.

"He's gone," Sirius mouthed.  Remus nodded and gave Sirius a brief flicker of a smile before returning his attention to the others.

Sirius grabbed a handful of small sandwiches before passing back into the living room, stuffing one in his mouth as he went.  He saw Peter standing alone by a window, not far from where the Sinistras were speaking with the Eveshams.  After quickly delivering his message to Nelson Sinistra, Sirius joined Peter at the window.

"How are you holding up, Peter?"

"Fine—most people are starting to say their goodbyes—I'm just a bit hungry."

"Hungry?  There's a ton of food in the kitchen.  You know what my mum is like."  Sirius held out his two remaining sandwiches as he spoke.

Peter took them with a grateful smile.  "Thanks.  I just can't—the kitchen—I just can't go in there."

Sirius put an arm around his smaller friend's shoulder and gave him a comforting squeeze.  Peter always was sensitive about such things.  It should have occurred to him that he might be reluctant to see the place where someone he knew had been murdered.  Remus had handled it without batting an eye, but Remus had a lifetime of practice at controlling and hiding his emotions.

"I'll get you a plate of food," Sirius promised as he started back toward the kitchen.  However, a late arrival, a witch charming an ink stain off her mossy green robe, stopped him in his tracks.  Sirius changed direction and met her near the front door.

"Ms. Stirling, it's so nice of you to come," Sirius said as he enclosed her small hand within both of his own.  "I know Remus will be happy to see you."

"Please call me Charlotte.  I'm so sorry that I'm late, but something came up at work that couldn't wait."

"No apology necessary," Sirius said as he slowly steered her toward the kitchen.  "No one valued the work you do, and the kind way you do it, more than Julia did."

"It's such a loss," Charlotte said. "Too many deaths, too many funerals.  Do you know that in the past three months, this is the fourth time a family member of one of my clients has been murdered?  As if their lives weren't difficult enough."

Sirius stopped just outside the kitchen door and stared at Charlotte.  To the best of his knowledge, neither the Aurors nor the Order was aware of a pattern of murders involving the families of werewolves.  

"Four murders?  All by the Death Eaters?"  Comprehension of their possible significance dawned on Charlotte's face as he asked.  He glanced around the room, caught James's eye, and gestured for him to come over.

"Well, let's see," Charlotte said.  "In addition to this, one murder was definitely the Death Eaters, the Dark Mark over the house and all.  One was officially labeled unsolved, but that family is Muggle, so only the Muggle authorities investigated.  And the first of the four," she thought for a moment.  Just as James reached them, she said, "I don't know, but that family is Muggle as well."

James smiled at Charlotte and extended his hand. "Hello, Charlotte.  Thank you for—"

"Is Dumbledore still here?" Sirius interrupted.

"No, he had to get back.  Why?"  James sounded either slightly annoyed or slightly amused by Sirius's rudeness.  Sirius didn't know which, nor did he care.

"Is something wrong?"  Peter asked.  He had come over when he saw Sirius beckon James.

"Tell them what you just told me," Sirius instructed Charlotte quietly, "but let's not tell Remus until we know more.  It'll only make him feel worse."  

_Author's Note:  Thank you all for your patience while awaiting this chapter.  I have been doing lots of writing, just not on this story.  (Darn writer's block!)  I won't make any promises that the next chapter will be up soon, but I can tell you this—Morris Burdock may be gone, but he is not forgotten._

_            If you'd like to read about the Romanian-English Dictionary in Remus's past, it's in my story "Visiting the Werewolf's Den."_


	7. The Investigation Begins

_Disclaimer:  The characters and the magic still belong to J.K. Rowling.  Have you ordered your copy of Order of the Phoenix yet?  _

_Sirius's name for his motorcycle, the Shadow, and Sirius's father, Aeneas, come from "Black Shadow" by CLS.  (If you haven't read it yet, look for the link on my "Favorite Stories" list.)_

Cave Canem 

**Chapter Seven: The Investigation Begins**

            "Well, I spoke to all three of those clients to see if they'd speak with you," Charlotte Stirling said as she lifted a box of scrolls off the chair in front of her desk.  She looked around for an empty surface to place the box.

 James decided to solve two problems at once.  He took the box from Charlotte, placed it beside the chair, and transfigured it into a second chair. 

"Good idea," she said with an approving nod.  James and Sirius sat down while Charlotte circled around behind her desk and unlocked the drawers with two taps of her wand and a touch of her hand.  "Two are willing to meet with you.  The third refused, but I can ask again if you still think it's necessary after meeting the others.  The first one is a wizard named Marcus Redstone.  He—you weren't planning on bringing Remus with you, were you?"

            "No," Sirius replied, shifting guiltily in his chair.  "We haven't told him about this yet.  He already blames himself for his mother's death, and we didn't want to tell him about this if the murders turn out to be unrelated."

            "Why?" James asked her.

            Charlotte sat back in chair with a weary sigh.  "Mr. Redstone is a rather new client of mine.  Until recently, he worked for the Werewolf Control Unit."

            _"Bitten on the job,"_ James thought.

            "Unfortunately," Charlotte continued, "becoming a werewolf himself has not yet made him sympathetic to the problems werewolves face in our society.  Instead," she paused to think how to express herself.

            "It's made him hate other werewolves even more," Sirius finished for her.

            Charlotte leaned forward with an earnest appeal written on her face.  "Please understand.  He's very angry about all the changes in life, and he needs somewhere to put the blame.  He'll come around, in time."

            _"Maybe I should see Redstone without Sirius.  Don't want them hexing each other."  _James glanced sideways at Sirius and saw him rubbing his thumb along his wand.  _"I'm definitely going without Sirius."_

            "Mr. Redstone's son, Dexter, was murdered two months ago.  The Dark Mark was over the house."

            "I think there was a Dexter Redstone at school with us," Sirius said to James.  "About five years ahead of us, Hufflepuff."

            James nodded.  "He played Quidditch."

            "That would be about the right age for Marcus's son," Charlotte agreed.

            "And the other one who's willing to meet us?"  James asked.

            "Her name is Lydia, but she asked that I not give you her last name or her address."  Charlotte opened her desk drawer and pulled out a folded and sealed parchment.  "They can each meet with you tomorrow.  This is the information on when and where." Sirius reached out for it before James could.  "What can I tell you about Lydia?  She's a Muggle.  She was bitten four years ago.  Her husband, Paul, was murdered just last month.  His throat was cut, and he was left on the front step of their home.  Their six year old daughter was with Lydia when she found his body."

            "Oh God," James murmured.  "No child should see that."

            "I know that cutting throats isn't the Death Eaters' usual style," Charlotte said, "so it's probably unrelated."

            Sirius shook his head.  "Many Dark spells require the use of blood, and some Death Eaters just seem to like spilling blood." 

            _"Like whoever killed Mrs. Lupin,"_ James thought.  The way Sirius looked, he was thinking the same thing.

            "Is there anything you can tell us about the other murder?"  James asked.

            Charlotte nodded.  "When I spoke to that client, he gave me some details.  His father had just gotten into their car, which was parked in front of their house, when it blew up.  Apparently, the Muggle police have experts who are very good at determining the cause of an explosion, but they never found any trace of a bomb or anything wrong with the car that would explain the explosion.  They officially labeled it 'an explosion for undetermined reasons' or something of that sort.  They labeled his death an accident, but my client insists it was murder."

            "Why is he so certain?"  James asked.

            Charlotte shrugged.  "He refused to say."

            "Well," Sirius said as he stood up and grabbed his cloak off the back of his chair, "I'm not an expert on engines, but I do know enough to know that they don't blow up for no reason.  If the Muggle experts couldn't find a reason, my money is on magic."

            "There's one more thing," Charlotte said.  "After I spoke with that last client, I started thinking about murders committed with magic being mislabeled accidents or natural causes by Muggles."

"So there are more."  Sirius sat back down.

"Perhaps," Charlotte said.  "I started making a list of all my clients who have had any deaths in their families recently, but Simon or I will have to speak with them before we can give you their names."

"Of course," James agreed.  They respected Charlotte's need to preserve her clients' privacy.

"But, that list will only cover those I knew about and can remember.  I think I should speak to everyone at Greystone in two weeks.  The mislabeled deaths will be in Muggle families, and many Muggle werewolves come to Greystone for the full moon."

"Charlotte, you're brilliant," James said with a smile.

"However, if you want me to speak with everyone at Greystone, you'll need to tell Remus first.  It'll be better if he hears this from you."

"Remus won't be at Greystone," Sirius said in confusion.

"Oh dear, I thought you knew."

* * * * *

James accompanied Sirius back to his flat.  Sirius was angry, and although most of his anger was on Remus's behalf, he was also angry with Remus for keeping this a secret.  James was worried that when Sirius confronted Remus, his anger might come through more clearly than his concern.

They found Remus sitting at the kitchen counter, reading the _Daily Prophet_.  He was wearing Muggle clothes, black jeans and a white button down shirt.

_"Probably Sirius's jeans," _James thought.  _"That boy wears entirely too much black."_

"Anything interesting in the paper?"  Sirius asked as he circled around the counter to face Remus.  James sat on a stool beside Remus and waited for tempers to flare.

Remus turned back one page and read aloud, "'Werewolf Registry Official Still Missing.  Morris Burdock, an employee of the Werewolf Registry Department of the Ministry of Magic has been missing since the third of December.  As the date he disappeared was a full moon, speculation is high that Mr. Burdock's disappearance is work related.'  Good thing you have an alibi, Sirius, or I might wonder what you were up to without me."

Sirius smirked slightly.  "Couldn't happen to a more deserving individual."  Sirius's slight smile disappeared and anger crept into his voice.  "But I'd rather talk about who suspects you, and why you didn't tell us."

"It's no big deal," Remus said lightly as he folded the newspaper.  "Thanks to Charlotte's complaint regarding that night, we were both suspects.  James, Lily, and Peter gave you an alibi," James nodded, "and my mum gave me one.  You knew all that.  I'm just back on the list of suspects because my mum died."

"That's bloody unfair," Sirius growled.

Remus shrugged.  "You have to see it from their point of view.  My mum did vouch for me, but just to the investigators who came to question us.  She never testified under oath or under truth serum, and now, she never can."  James saw that in Remus's lap, his hands were clenched so tightly into fists that his knuckles were white.  "So, as far as the Ministry is concerned, I don't have an alibi."

"How bad is it?" James asked.

Remus forced a smile.  "Fortunately for me, Burdock was _very_ unpopular.  The list of suspects is rather long, and I don't even seem to be at the top of the list.  It'll be O.K."

"But in the meantime, you have to go to Greystone for the full moon, INDEFINITELY!"  Sirius shouted.  "This is fucking unfair!"

Remus glanced sideways at James and said, "Maybe it's for the best." 

"Why didn't you tell us, Remus?"  Sirius demanded.  "Did you think we wouldn't notice if you didn't show up at James's for the full moon?  Did you think we wouldn't want to help?"

"I just wasn't in a hurry to tell you, that's all," Remus said patiently.  At least he was trying to sound patient.  James heard a slight edge of anger in his voice.  "I know what you two are like."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Sirius snapped.

"Poor little Remus has a problem, and Saint James and my guard dog feel obligated to solve it."

_"Saint James?"_

"Sometimes I want to deal with my own problems."  Remus headed for the door and grabbed his jacket off a peg.  "I've got to go.  I got a temporary job at a pub, and I don't want to be late on the first day."  He opened the door and paused.  "How did you find out, anyway?"

"Charlotte mentioned it, but she _thought _we already knew," Sirius grumbled.  His anger with Remus had abated to annoyance.

"Charlotte?  Why were you talking to Charlotte?"  Neither James nor Sirius answered quickly enough, and Remus closed the door again.  "Well?"

"It's just something we're looking into, and we didn't want to tell you until we knew more," James explained.

Remus looked down at the floor and took a deep breath before he spoke again.  "So I keep a part of _my life_ a secret, and you two interrogate me.  Meanwhile, you are keeping from me a secret that apparently involves werewolves, and that's O.K.  Don't wait up, Sirius."  He slammed the door on his way out.

"He's wearing my jeans," Sirius said.

* * * * *

James puttered around the kitchen, trying to find something to keep him busy while he waited for Sirius to arrive.  Sirius usually arrived by the backdoor—he said that the front door was for guests and the backdoor was for family—and James wanted to be ready to leave as soon as he arrived.  If he weren't fast enough, Sirius would come in and would want to say 'hi' to Lily, but Lily wasn't quite up to a visitor this morning.  She had had one of her occasional bouts of morning sickness and was still a little green.  She had also made it quite clear that James was NOT allowed to tell anyone that she was pregnant.  

"Not even Sirius, James.  And trust me, if Sirius knows, I'll know, and I can make your life very unpleasant."

  Lily kept saying that she wanted to get through the first trimester before they announced it—James assumed it was a Muggle superstition—but she had relented somewhat and said they could tell Sirius, Remus, and Peter on Christmas Eve.

Over the sound of the broom sweeping under the table, James thought he heard a low, growling rumble.  "Finite incantatem," he said to the broom and the handle immediately fell into his waiting hand.  The growl of a motorcycle engine grew louder, and James put the broom away in the kitchen closet.

"Bye, Lils," he called up the stairs.  "I'll see you tonight, and I'll bring you some lovely, greasy fish and chips."

"You're evil, James Potter," she called back.

"But that's why you love me."  

He hurried out of the house as the engine went silent.  Sirius was still astride the Shadow, just pulling off his helmet and running a black-gloved hand through his hair. In his black leather jacket and tight jeans he was every father's nightmare.

_"Oh God, I hope it's not a girl," _James thought._  "I'll have to worry about guys like him."_

"Did Lily pick out your clothes for you this morning, Jamie Boy?" Sirius asked.  "You look positively Muggle."  He pulled a tiny helmet out of the pocket of his jacket, and it immediately began to grow large enough to fit James.

"That was the idea, wasn't it?  And, no, she didn't," James replied.  _"She did pick them out at the store, but I'm not telling you that."_  He took the helmet but looked at it doubtfully.  He didn't mind an occasional ride on Sirius's bike, but he could not understand the appeal it held for Sirius.  _"Give me a broom any day." _ "Couldn't we just apparate there?  It'll be much faster."

Sirius gasped in mock horror.  "Now what good would it do to let Lily dress you up like a Muggle and then arrive in such a non-Muggle fashion?  Get on, Prongs."

"Not exactly Muggle transportation if we fly most of the way."  James pulled on the helmet and then put on a pair of gloves that had been in his jacket pocket.

"We'll be down on the road when we arrive, and that's what matters.  Are you going to get on, or do I leave without you?"  
            "Don't tempt me," James replied, but he got on the back of the black and chrome motorcycle's seat and grabbed fistfuls of Sirius's jacket as Sirius kick-started the Shadow back to life.

A favorable tailwind meant that the two masquerading wizards entered the coffee shop five minutes early for their rendezvous.  James scanned the room looking for someone who might be Lydia, in case she was early as well.  The breakfast crowd was already gone, and it was too early for lunch, so only four patrons were in the restaurant.  One was an older man, muttering to himself as he read a newspaper, two were a teenage boy and girl sitting together, and the fourth was a blonde woman approximately thirty years old.  She sat alone in the booth farthest from the door and was staring at James and Sirius.  James glanced behind himself at Sirius and nodded in her direction.  She stubbed out a cigarette, the third in the ashtray, as they approached.

"Excuse me," James gave his best "trust me" smile as he spoke, "but we're supposed to meet someone here.  Are you Lydia, by any chance?"

She nodded.  "And you're Charlotte's friends?"

"Um-hmm."  James slid into the booth across from Lydia and Sirius sat beside him.  "I'm James, and this is Sirius.  Thank you for meeting with us.  Our condolences on your husband's death."

She nodded and toyed with the gold locket she wore on a chain about her neck, curving her hand around it protectively. "Charlotte told me that you're trying to find out if Paul's murder is related to other murders."  

"That's right," Sirius said.  

They all fell silent as a waitress came over to refill Lydia's mug of tea and take orders from Sirius and James.  They both asked for tea to justify their presence. 

Lydia spoke as soon as the waitress moved away.  "I was having second thoughts about meeting with you, and then I got this yesterday."  She took a piece of parchment out of her purse and pushed it across the dull white table.  "An owl delivered it.  I never got a message from an owl before, but at Greystone, I saw Simon send one that way once."

Sirius unfolded the parchment, holding it so James could read it too. _"Do not discuss your husband's death with any wizards or witches.  You failed to protect your husband; don't fail your daughter."_ Someone with excellent penmanship had written it in black ink with a quill.  

"Do you want us to arrange protection for you and your daughter?" James asked immediately.  He was impressed by her bravery; the threat had made her more determined to speak with them, not less.

Lydia shook her head.  "My daughter doesn't live with me anymore.  I'm only a fit parent three weeks a month; between first quarter and the full moon, I'm a real bitch." She smiled sadly at the pun.  "I sent her to live with relatives shortly after Paul's funeral.  I was going to move closer to them and share custody of Emily, but—but I called them after I got this note, and they're going to arrange for her to go somewhere even safer.  Even I won't be able to find her."  The waitress returned with the tea and Lydia resumed toying with her locket. 

"Do _you _want protection?" James persisted when they were alone.

Lydia shook her head again.  She opened the locket and held it out to show Sirius and James the two photographs inside, a little girl with blonde plaits and a man with the same smile as his daughter. "I've got nothing left to lose.  I don't care what happens to me."  She closed the locket again.  "O.K., let's start at the beginning.  About three months ago, a man showed up at the shop where I work.  He knew my name, he knew what I was, and he knew about Paul and Emily.  My boss started giving me dirty looks for talking to him, so I agreed to meet him at the park on my day off, just to get him to leave, you understand?  I brought Emily to the park and talked with him while I watched her play on the playground with the other kids. He was saying all this stuff about how wizards and witches didn't treat werewolves fairly.  That they treated us like vermin, and how unfair it was when werewolves are so much stronger and better than humans.  You'd almost believe the bloke was a werewolf himself."  She paused to light another cigarette.

"He wasn't?"

"Nah, he wore a silver ring."

"Could it have been white gold or pewter?" James asked.  He knew that the pewter clasps on Remus's cloak passed for silver.

"Idiot shook my hand while wearing the damn thing."  She took a deep drag of the cigarette and began to cough.  "I gave up these ruddy things when I was pregnant with Emily.  Stayed off them for her sake, and because I wanted to get pregnant again.  Paul and I wanted another baby, but after I got bitten, I couldn't carry to term anymore.  I couldn't make it through the first trimester without miscarrying.  Three times, always during or just after the full moon.  Then I gave up.  Haven't met a female werewolf yet who has carried to term."

James reached out and held her free hand.  Lily hadn't even felt the baby move yet, but James had often seen her with one hand on her stomach and a happy smile on her face.  What could be worse than losing a child?  Lydia had lost three babies and now had given up her daughter to keep her safe.

Lydia smiled weakly at him and crushed out the cigarette. "Then he started saying that I shouldn't let the Ministry of Magic force me into a cage at Greystone, that I could go somewhere else, a place where I wouldn't always be locked up."

"Where?" Sirius asked.  

Lydia shrugged.  "He wanted to use me, and I didn't want to be used.  I told him to fuck off, I got Emily, and we went home.  The next time I saw him was All Saints' Day.  He was outside the church when I came out.  He asked if I'd reconsidered.  I said no, but I didn't swear this time; the priest was nearby.  The full moon was a few days later.  Paul was killed a week after that."  She took a small sip of her tea, but made a face and put it back down.  "Cold.  I know I should've told Charlotte about the man, but the truth was, I wasn't sure it was related to Paul's death.  That man never threatened my family or me.  And, I was embarrassed that I had met with him at all."

"Could you describe him?" Sirius asked.

"About the same height as Paul, so about five foot ten, medium build, light brown hair.  He was dressed in normal clothes.  Sorry," she smiled in apology, "Muggle clothes, but he wore the same ones every time I saw him, as if those were the only Muggle clothes he had.  Dark grey trousers, white shirt, a grey sweater, and a black overcoat."  

"Do you think Paul's murder is related to the others?"  

"We can't be sure," James said.  "You're the first one we're speaking with."

She began to finger the pack of cigarettes, but shoved them away from herself suddenly.  "I just quit.  If I ever see him again, I'm going to kill him, and I can't stop to cough up a lung while I chase the bastard."

"If he gets in touch with you, and you don't manage to kill him, will you get in touch with us?" Sirius asked.

She nodded.  "I'll call Charlotte.  She has a telephone since so many of us are Muggles."

"I have a telephone.  Would you be willing to call me?"  James asked.  Lydia nodded, and he wrote his name and the number down on a paper napkin.  "No one's ever called me before.  My wife gets calls sometimes."

"Your first phone call, and it's from a mysterious woman, what will Lily think?" Sirius teased.

"She'll realize that I actually learned something in Muggle Studies, that I didn't take it just so I could ask her to tutor me."

"But that _was_ why you took it."

"I know."

* * * * *

After another ride on the Shadow—James was certain they were going to go deaf—and lunch at a pub in a town near Marcus Redstone's home, they were ready for their second appointment of the day.  Like many wizards, Redstone lived in a remote area.  Unlike Muggles, wizards didn't need access to roads or public transportation, and distance from Muggle neighbors provided privacy.  Much of the way from the nearest village to Redstone's, the Shadow followed a grassy path that may never have known wheels before.  The whitewashed house had a thatched roof and window baskets full of holiday greenery.  A grey tabby sat on the stone gatepost and watched the two young men carefully as they got off the strange machine.

While Sirius secured his motorcycle with several protective spells, James looked at the thatched roof, "_Very traditional."_  "Well, Padfoot, we may have been appropriately dressed to meet Lydia, but I have a feeling we're going to look out of place here."

"We aren't here for him to like us."

"You _promised_ you'd behave."

"I will if he does."

"Even if he doesn't."

Sirius did not answer as he opened the gate.  James hoped that in this case, silence was agreement.

Sirius was about to use the brass doorknocker a second time when a tall wizard with salt and pepper hair opened the red door.  They were right on time for their meeting, but two young men in Muggle clothing were apparently not what he was expecting.

"Can I help you?"

"I'm James Potter, and this is Sirius Black.  Charlotte Stirling arranged for us to meet with Mr. Marcus Redstone."

"You're the ones looking into my son's death for Dumbledore?" He stepped back and gestured toward the front parlor.  "Go on in and have a seat near the fire.  You're probably pretty cold after coming here on that noisy thing.  Why didn't you just apparate or floo, anyway?"

James laughed.  "That's what I've been saying all day.  We had to meet with a Muggle earlier, and Sirius jumps at any excuse to ride it."  James sat in one of the two wing chairs near the fire; Sirius stood leaning back against the mantle to the side of the fire.  He didn't seem to want to relax too much in "enemy territory."

"Met with a Muggle; that explains the clothes," Redstone said as he came into the room and went to a small table bearing a decanter and several crystal tumblers.

"Actually, I wear Muggle clothes a lot," Sirius said defiantly.

Redstone shrugged and poured himself a drink.  "Dexter wore Muggle clothes pretty often too.  I guess it's a generational thing.  Do either of you want some Scotch?"

"No thank you," James replied.  Sirius remained silent.

Redstone sat in the other wing chair and took a sip of his Scotch before he spoke.  "The Aurors have a report on Dexter's death somewhere.  Did you read it?"

"We did," James said, "but it only contains what those investigators thought was important.  We might find something important that they didn't, so we'd appreciate if you'd just tell us in your words whatever you know."

Redstone stared down into the amber fluid as he spoke.  "I got a little visit from a Death Eater one night.  He stood right where you are for most the time he was here."  He looked up at Sirius and toasted him with the glass.  "He said what a shame it was that after all my years of dedicated service to the Ministry, protecting people, that I should be tossed out an my ass just because I got bitten by a werewolf.  I just let him talk.  He thought he knew how I thought, but he didn't.  He thought I'd be angry at the Ministry, thought I'd want revenge.  

"Eventually, I told him that I was tired of the sound of his voice and to piss off.  I was pouring myself a drink at the time, wand in my pocket, my back to him and everything.  I think I was hoping he'd kill me, finish off what that damn wolf started.  But he just left with a vague warning about 'giving me a reason to reconsider'."  

Redstone finished his drink with a large swallow and put the tumbler on the floor beside the leg of his chair.  "About a week later, he was back, but his time he brought a friend."  Redstone smirked.  "Well, not quite a friend.  The new one was definitely the one in charge.  The original one, the taller one, he only spoke when spoken too, if you know what I mean.  Now, the new one, _he_ had done his homework.  His sales pitch was different.  He knew I harbored no ill will toward the Ministry; they retired me with a generous pension since I was injured in the line of duty.  He knew that I put the blame squarely where it belonged, on the damn wolf that bit me."

Sirius shifted slightly but stayed silent.

"What did he say?"  James prompted.

"He said that bleeding hearts in the Ministry had hampered those of us who were trying to keep people safe from werewolves.  He pointed out the unfairness of rules that protected werewolves' privacy at the expense of their neighbors' safety.  He told me that there actually was a werewolf at Hogwarts at the same time as my son, and no one knew it.  I wasn't sure if I believed that one. How could a werewolf pass as normal enough to attend Hogwarts?"

James couldn't resist glancing nervously at Sirius.  Sirius was scowling and looking back at him. 

"He knew that through my former coworkers, I could probably get access to the records in the Werewolf Registry.  That's what he wanted.  I confess; I probably would have been tempted if the other one hadn't already come to me with a completely different story.  He was telling the truth when he said he wanted the records; he was lying about why he wanted them.  

"So, I refused.  This time vague threats were not enough.  Ever experience the Cruciatus Curse, gentlemen?  I don't recommend it.  Dexter was killed three days later.  Are you sure you don't want a drink?"  Redstone grabbed his glass and went to refill it.

"No thank you," Sirius said.

"Can you describe them?" James asked.

Redstone returned with his glass and stayed standing in front of the fire. "They both wore black masks and had the hoods of their cloaks up, so I never saw faces or hair color.  The taller one was about my height, six two, the other about four inches shorter.  They were both average in build, as best I could tell with the cloaks.  The taller one had a slight Glaswegian accent.  The shorter one was English and wealthy."

"How could you tell?" Sirius asked.

"First of all, his accent.  His voice dripped money, like yours," he nodded at James.  "If he were a Muggle I'd swear he was the Queen's cousin.  Second of all, his cloak brushed against my hand, and it was the softest thing I've ever felt.  Do you have any idea how much gold a cashmere cloak costs?  I bought a cashmere sweater for my wife once, and I almost had to close my eyes to hand the money over.  And I think he was a Slytherin."

Even Sirius had to chuckle at that. "I won't argue with you, but do you have a reason?"

"He was wearing a silver signet ring.  When I was at Hogwarts, there was a bit of a fad to wear signet rings.  The students from old money had them made with their family crests, so everyone would know they were from old money.  Then some of those who weren't from old money got them so people would _think_ they were from old money.  I admit; I succumbed."  He held up his right hand to show a gold signet ring.  "House loyalties were seen in the metal of choice, house colors.  Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs preferred yellow gold, Ravenclaws preferred rose gold or bronze, and Slytherins preferred white gold or silver.  I tried to see the crest, but when he noticed that I was looking, he took off the ring."

James couldn't resist asking.  "What house were you in?" 

"Gryffindor, of course.  Who else would have the guts to deal with werewolves for a living?"  He looked intently at Sirius.  "You're Aeneas Black's son, aren't you?"

"Yes."

Redstone nodded.  "I knew him; his death was a real loss.  If you turn out to be half the man he was, you'll do him proud."

"Thank you," Sirius said.  He looked a bit unsure what to say next.  This visit had only partially gone as he expected.

"We were at Hogwarts with Dexter," James said, "but we were five years behind him.  As soon as we heard his name, we both remembered seeing him play Quidditch."

Redstone smiled.  "He loved that stupid game.  He worked for the Tutshill Tornados, you know.  Back office, not on the pitch, but he was around the game he loved.  I'll miss that boy until the day I die."

Both young men were unusually subdued as they walked back to the Shadow.  

"Two werewolves each visited by a five foot ten wizard wearing a silver ring who wanted something from them.  Both said 'no' and soon after a loved one was murdered," Sirius began.  "Sounds like more than mere coincidence, even if those murders weren't connected to what happened to Remus's mum."

"Why don't you think they're connected?" James asked as he paused to pet the tabby rubbing his ankles.

"Because Remus _wasn't_ visited by the guy with the silver ring."  Sirius answered with conviction. He released each of the spells protecting his bike in rapid succession.  James wondered if Sirius was as certain as he sounded.

"He may have been.  Maybe he just didn't tell us."

"No, he would have told us."

"A couple of days ago, I would have agreed with you," James said, "but you heard what he said yesterday as well as I did.  'I want to deal with my own problems.'  That came from somewhere."  Sirius busied himself with putting on his helmet and wiping mud off the Shadow; he did not look at James.  "Maybe he did get a visit, told the guy to piss off, and –"

"We have to talk to Remus," Sirius concluded.  He pulled back the sleeve of his jacket enough to see his watch.  "He'll be at work already, and he won't be back until late tonight."

"I'll come over tomorrow morning, about eight.  We'll talk to him then."

_Author's Note:  I must confess that  Chapter Eight will NOT include Christmas Eve, sorry.  Instead, may I recommend the stories "The Weakest Link" and "O Come All Ye Faithful" by Hyphen.  (They read as two chapters of the same story.)  "O Come All Ye Faithful" DOES include the Potters telling their friends about her pregnancy, Peter teetering on the edge of betrayal, and some really funny Christmas presents.  (I couldn't top it, so I won't even try.)  Look for the link on my "Favorite Stories" list._

_--Posted February 2003_


	8. Waiting and Werewolves

Disclaimer:  The characters and the world they inhabit all belong to J.K. Rowling.

**Cave Canem**

Chapter Eight: Waiting and Werewolves 

            The pub where Remus had found work for the week was licensed to stay open until eleven o'clock, and Remus was there at least an hour or two later to clean up after the stragglers.  His body protested against getting up early, but when he heard Sirius pass his door, he pushed back his warm covers and sat at the edge of his bed.  Between Sirius taking the "Don't wait up for me" command literally two nights in a row, and Remus sleeping in yesterday morning, they had not seen each other since their disagreement.  And although it was true that a cooling off period worked well with tempers as volatile as theirs, Remus recognized that there was a fine line between letting tempers cool and letting resentments fester. 

            He rubbed the sleep from his eyes, yawned widely, and grabbed a sweatshirt off the top of his dresser.  The carpeting felt cool underfoot_—"Not real wool"_—but Remus couldn't be bothered to put on socks.  Sirius was already dressed but didn't seem in a hurry to leave; he was taking the time to read the _Daily Prophet_ while he sat on the sofa with his feet up on the coffee table.  Remus sank down onto the other end of the sofa and saw that Sirius was doing the _Daily Prophet_ crossword puzzle.

            "What's a five letter word for 'I humbly apologize for shouting at my friend when I was really angry at those treating him unfairly'?" Sirius asked.

            "That would be, 'Sorry.'  It works equally well for five-down, 'I humbly apologize for behaving as if my friends' protective tendencies are a bad thing'," Remus answered.

            "Really?  I already wrote 'asphodel' for five-down."

            "Better stick with your answer then.  You always were better at potions than I was.  You didn't happen to brew any of that wonderful elixir known as 'tea,' did you?"

            "I did; help yourself."

            There was just enough milk left in the carton for one mug of tea.  Remus stared at the breadbox and tried to decide if he was awake enough to make some toast.  He decided that he was not when he realized that he had put the empty milk carton back in the refrigerator.  "_I should go back to bed."_  However, he knew there was more to discuss with Sirius, so he returned to the sofa, mug in hand. 

"I have to tell you something," Remus said, and then laughed.  

Sirius had said, "We need to talk," at the exact same time.  Sirius laughed, shaking his head.  "We do think alike sometimes, don't we, Moony."

"Maybe sometimes."

"You go first."

Remus nodded and took another sip of tea.  He needed to wake up for this.  "I've decided to move back into my mum's house."  Sirius appeared to be taken completely off guard.

"Why?  If you're still angry with me for—"

"No, no, it's nothing like that.  It's—" Remus wished he was more awake for this discussion.  He took a large sip of tea and hoped the caffeine would go to work quickly.  "Look, our lease will be up in a few months anyway.  It's only lasted this long because you and James extended it just before he got engaged and gave James an excuse to say, 'Oops!  I owe you half the rent until the lease is up.'  It was a polite little fiction so no one would have to say, 'James is paying half the rent because Remus can't afford it.'  The time for fiction is over.  I can't afford to live here; I'm not going to live here."  

As Remus spoke, Sirius shifted around to face him directly.  This conversation was too important for an appearance of less than his full attention.  "But we talked about this before," Sirius said.  "When this lease is up, we'll get a cheaper place, somewhere I can afford the rent on, and you can chip in whenever you can afford it."

Remus remembered that "talk."  Sirius had offered and then assumed Remus's silence was agreement.  All it had really meant was that Remus was taking time to decide.  Even then, he had considered going back home.  Although he hated to admit it, his mother's death had simplified his decision.  Going back no longer meant that he was running home to Mummy.  

He shook his head sadly.  "It's kind of you to offer, Padfoot, but let's face the truth.  I'm _never _going to be able to afford the rent on a regular basis, and I _don't _want to live off you anymore."  
            "I don't mind.  It's not your fault that people won't give you a job—or that the ones who do _conveniently_ figure out that you're a werewolf just before they have to pay you."  Sirius's temper started to rise at the memory of that happening more than once.  There was a knock at the door, and Sirius rose to answer it as Remus spoke.

"But I mind.  I'm _tired_ of you guys taking care of me."  

Sirius opened the door for James but otherwise ignored him and went back to the sofa.

"Five-down, remember?  'I humbly apologize for behaving as if my friends' protective tendencies are a bad thing'.  Or were you just saying that?"

"No, I'm grateful that you guys want to help me," he looked first at Sirius and then at James as he spoke, "I really am.  I'm just sick of the fact that you need to help me so often.  I'm not a kid anymore; I need to handle my own problems."

Sirius made a sound of exasperation or disgust and stalked into the kitchen.  He began to make breakfast as an excuse to take out his frustration on the helpless cookware.  Remus looked at James, his eyes pleading for an ally.

"We all help each other, Moony," James said as took Sirius's vacated space on the sofa.  "Some problems are too big for one person."

"Well, this one isn't.  I can't afford to live here, I have somewhere else to go, I'm moving out."  He pushed up from the sofa and headed back toward his bedroom.  "I'm going back to bed.  Feel free to discuss whatever it is I'm not allowed to know about."

"Oh!" James sounded so surprised that Remus halted and looked back at him.  James was looking at Sirius.  "You mean you haven't—"

"It was due to be the next topic of conversation," Sirius explained grimly.

* * * * *

"I wish I knew how to cook," Peter said as he watched Remus drop pasta into a pot of boiling water.

"You can do this.  You can boil water; you can make pasta."

Peter looked pointedly at the cutting board where Remus had just finished chopping basil for the sauce.  "And this?"

Remus laughed.  "You got better grades than I did in Potions.  If I can do this, you can.  Besides, they sell sauce already made in Muggle food shops.  Come with me sometime."  He added the basil to the saucepan and gave the sauce a stir.

"Muggle money's too confusing.  When are you moving out anyway?"

Remus shrugged.  "I haven't decided.  There's no hurry; James insists on paying half of the rent until the end of the lease whether I'm here or not.  I guess I'm letting Sirius get used to the idea before I move."  Remus thought, not for the first time, that Sirius should invite Peter to be his new flatmate.  Peter had a secure job with the Ministry and could afford the rent.  He would welcome a chance to break free from his mother, and she wouldn't object as long as Remus was no longer living there.  However, it was Sirius's decision to make, not his.  

"So, where is Sirius tonight?" Peter asked.

Remus shrugged.  "No idea.  I just know he's working with Moody tonight.  I offered to help, but Moody knows what I am, and I don't think he trusts me."  

"Whatever happened with those murders James and Sirius were looking into?  Were they related?"

"It looks like at least two were.  It sounds like the same wizard, a Death Eater, visited both werewolves shortly before their loved ones were murdered.  But, as I told James and Sirius, he never visited me, so it appears that my mum's murder isn't connected."  Remus fished a strand of pasta out of the pot for a taste test.  A quick bite and he knew the pasta was perfectly al dente.  He pulled out his wand to evaporate the water from the pot.

"James and Sirius believed you?" Peter asked.

Remus paused for just half a second before performing the evaporation charm.  He was accustomed to others thinking him untrustworthy, but his friends?  "What do you mean, Peter?" he asked as lightly as he could.

Peter frowned and looked down.  "Forget I said anything.  Do you want some more wine?"

Remus nodded.  He tried to turn his attention back to dinner: adding the pasta to the sauce, tossing them together, dishing it onto their plates.  But he kept wondering, _"Who doesn't believe me?  Does Peter think I'm lying?  Is he saying that James and Sirius think I'm lying?  Why would I lie?"_ He put the two plates on the kitchen counter and joined Peter on the other side.

Peter must have noticed his preoccupation.  "I'm sorry I said anything.  It's just—well, who'd want to admit that the Death Eaters singled him out as vulnerable?  It's kind of—what's a good word?—embarrassing.  If You-Know-Who thinks someone's vulnerable in some way, maybe he is.  James and Sirius might have believed you, or they might have thought you didn't want to tell them."

"You believe me, don't you?"

"Of course I do.  The look on your face when I said that, it was obvious it had never even occurred to you to lie about it."

They both ate in silence for a few minutes.  Remus suddenly asked, "But it makes sense to see me as vulnerable, doesn't it?  Social outcast, habitually unemployed, inherently dark creature—oh, and did I mention that I'm currently pissed at the Ministry for treating me like a rabid dog."

Peter nodded reluctantly.  "If I were you and I did get a visit from a Death Eater, I wouldn't be in a hurry to tell anyone."

* * * * *

"It's not as bad inside," Lily said.  "Well, it is bad downstairs, but upstairs it's better, and Simon's just as nice as Charlotte."  She reached out and held Remus's hand.  He tore his eyes away from the immense grey block of a building, scarred by barred windows and looked at Lily instead.  She had pulled her hair back and tamed it in a long braid, much as she used to do for Potions lessons.  Only the rust colored robe instead of black provided a clue that they weren't on their way to class.  

_"Practical choice," _he thought._  "Blood stains won't show on that color." _He gave her hand a slight squeeze and resumed walking. "Thanks for coming with me, Lily.  Taking care of me, it's a hell of a way to begin your new year."

"Oh don't flatter yourself, Remus Lupin.  I was going to come here this month anyway.  Charlotte said she has six of you who've never been here before coming in, and I figured she and Simon could use an extra set of hands."  She laughed.  "O.K., I'm a liar.  I am here because they need the help this month, but I would have come even if they didn't.  You need a friendly face, and since you wouldn't let any of the others come—"

Remus pulled open the heavy door and followed Lily inside.  "It wouldn't have been a good idea.  Tomorrow morning, Charlotte plans to tell everyone about the murders and find out if anyone here had a visit from a wizard or witch just before a family member died.  A bunch of strangers, wizards especially, would make everyone very nervous, too nervous to speak openly."

"Maybe I should make myself scarce when Charlotte is talking to everyone."

"You were here two months ago—it was really nice of you to stay through the morning to help, by the way—so you aren't exactly a stranger. But, you might want to keep a low profile while we're talking about it.  Lumos."  They were now deep enough into the building that it was becoming harder to see the debris lurking in the shadows.  Lily lit her wand as well.

"Lumos.  A low profile, I can do that.  The stairs are over this way, I think."

"Wait!" a voice called from behind them.  They turned to see a sandy-haired wizard in his mid-twenties following them.  "I don't know the way," he said as he drew near.  "It's my first time here."

"Mine too," Remus said with a strained smile.  "Lily is our guide."

"And I've only been here once.  So, if we get lost, don't say I didn't warn you."

"Duly warned," the wizard said with a bow of his head.  "I'm Declan, but call me Deco."  He shook first Lily's hand and then Remus's."

"Remus."  They resumed walking, allowing Lily time to peer around at each intersection.  "Why is this your first time here?" Remus asked Deco. "Were you recently bitten?"

"No, a long time back, six years ago.  Six years I've taken care of myself, locking charms and silencing spells on the cellar.  But last month, a bastard from the Werewolf Registry disappeared that night, so a bunch of us have to come here instead.  I'll probably tear myself to bits because I'm in an unfamiliar place.  How long ago were you bitten?"

"Fourteen years ago," Remus answered.  "I'm here for the same reason you are."

"Cor, you were just a baby, weren't you?"

Remus shrugged.  "I was five, younger than most, I guess."

"How about you?" Deco asked Lily.

"No, I'm just here to help.  And there are the stairs.  I didn't get lost after all."

Lily started up the stairs, but Deco hung back for a moment staring at her in surprise.  "I just assumed," he said to Remus.  "You know, other than Charlotte Stirling, she's only witch I've met who knew I was a werewolf and still willingly shook my hand.  Please tell me you aren't dating her."  He began to ascend the stairs, Remus beside him.

"Sorry, she's married to a friend of mine."

* * * * *

Sirius stared up at the glowing moon and pulled his cloak tighter.  "Why is it that sunlight makes me feel warmer when it's direct, but bounce it off the moon and it makes me feel colder?"  James did not answer.  "I want my fur."

James chuckled quietly and pulled his own cloak tighter around himself.  "So, change.  There's just the two of us here.  You can change back if anyone shows up."  

The two wizards were hiding in a—thankfully—dry ditch, watching an ancient circle of standing stones.  Dumbledore had seen an item in a Muggle newspaper in which a farmer reported seeing, "Hippie weirdoes in black cloaks" meeting there one night.  It seemed unlikely that Voldemort would choose the same meeting place again, but he may have chosen a place so strongly imbued with ancient magic for a reason, and he might choose it or a similar location again. Also, Dumbledore seemed convinced that Voldemort would summon his followers tonight, so here they were.  Other members of the Order were watching other stone circles throughout the island.  

Sirius shook his head and sighed.  "I want my fur, I want to be running through the Forbidden Forest, and I want Moony running with us."

"Oh, is that all?  Well, let's see.  My wish list would include all of the above, plus Voldemort and all the Death Eaters securely locked in Azkaban."

"Raising the stakes, eh?  I see you your evil wizards rotting in hell, and I raise you one healthy, bouncing baby Potter.  I still can't _believe_ you kept it a secret."

"Lily insisted."

"So?  I've known you longer than Lily.  I've got seniority."

James raised a hand in warning and Sirius followed his gaze back to the circle.  A solitary figure, wearing a cloak, was slowly walking the perimeter.  They were too far away to see exactly what he was doing, but he seemed to pause at each of the larger stones.  He made the complete circuit three times, moved into the center of the circle, and sat down.  

James had an amulet in his pocket that had been enchanted to connect with ones possessed by all the other teams watching likely meeting places.  Any one of the amulets could be used to summon those possessing the others.  He reached into his pocket and reassured himself that it was still there, but he did not activate it yet.  If this person had come as a sort of advance scout before the others, they had to be careful not to alert him to their presence.  After another half an hour of waiting, watching the solitary figure sit alone inside the circle, Sirius shifted onto his knees.

"I want a closer look," he whispered.

"My turn," James whispered back.  He dropped the amulet in front of Sirius and hurried away from him in a crouch.  Several yards away, he transformed into a stag.  There was a momentary sense of disorientation as his adjusted to the different way he sensed the world.  He climbed out of the ditch and began walking slowly away from Sirius, keeping his distance from the cloaked man, moving to a point nearly opposite Sirius's position.  When the man noticed him, he did not wish to inadvertently call attention to Sirius behind him.  Until this point, he had moved with all the silence and stealth that his long, thin legs allowed him.  Now he was ready to be noticed.  He moved toward the circle, grazing and occasionally looking up.  He pretended not to notice the human.  The man did not notice him immediately, but seemed to freeze when he did see him.  Like so many people, he seemed to welcome a chance to see a deer up close.  He stayed still so as not to frighten the animal away.  

While grazing on the grass growing at the foot of the stones, James had a close look at the bundles of herbs tied with thread that the man had placed atop most of the larger stones, bay leaves and mistletoe.  He saw that under the cloak, the man was wearing Muggle clothing.  A crystal on a silver chain dangled from the man's hand, and a chart was on the ground beside him.  James recognized many of the symbols on the chart: symbols of the planets, ancient runes, and symbols that some Muggles believed were magical, but were not.  He'd seen enough.  He raised his head, feigning sudden fear, looked the Muggle directly in the eye, nostrils quivering as if he had just scented him, then he turned and bounded away into the darkness of a nearby stand of trees.

* * * * *

Remus could never be sure exactly when human awareness became sufficient to control the wolf again; all thought, human or lupine, was overwhelmed by pain.  He was only aware that he was licking a wound on his arm and that a little voice in the back of his mind was whispering, _"Stop it.  Humans don't do that."_  He was lying on his side on the concrete floor.  _"Too hard.  Too cold.  Fur's gone; need my clothes."  _

He tried to sit up, but the slightest movement caused the ache in his shoulder to explode outward.  White hot pain ran up his neck, across his back, and down his arm.  He'd felt this before; he'd dislocated his shoulder again.  Ignoring the pain as best he could, Remus used his other arm to push himself first to his knees and then to his feet.  

His legs were slick and slippery with blood; the side of his right thigh vaguely resembled ground hamburger.  He had to brace one hand against the wall when the room briefly became dim.  _"Dizzy—must have lost too much blood."  He knew he should sit down before he passed out, but he really wanted his robe.  He wanted the dignity of covering himself before anyone came in, before Lily came in.  A cabinet fastened high on the wall held his robe, his shoes, and his wand, all the possessions that he brought into the cell and he didn't want the wolf to destroy.  He managed to push the cabinet door open and grab one corner of his robe before sliding down the wall._

He heard the heavy lock slide back, and the hinges groan in protest as the thick metal door of the cell was opened.

"Remus?" Lily asked hesitantly.  "How are you?"  

Remus did not open his eyes, but he was aware of Lily being very close.  His arm and side felt slight warmth radiating from her body only an inch or two from his.  The floral scent of her shampoo mixed with the scent of his own blood.  The wolf and the human were still vying for dominance, and he did not know which scent enticed him more.

"Remus?  Any life threatening injuries for us to worry about?" Charlotte's voice called from the door.  "Or can we get back to you in a few minutes?"

"I can wait," he replied.  He opened his eyes and gave Lily a smile.  Her brow was knitted with worry.  "Go help Charlotte," he told her.  He closed his eyes again and tried to relax.  He knew from experience that tension only made pain worse.

Within the hour, Charlotte and her assistants: Simon, Lily, and a Muggle Remus would later learn was a nurse and the brother of one of the werewolves, had tended to the most serious injuries and assisted everyone up to the second floor.  A large ward on that floor had been turned into a cot filled dormitory where the werewolves could rest until they felt ready to leave.

Remus had allowed Simon and the other man to pop his shoulder back into place while still downstairs, but waved them off from any further assistance.  He joined the "walking wounded" in making his own way up the stairs.  Lily caught up to him halfway up.  She hung onto his arm until he sat on the first empty cot he reached.  

She put down a basket filled with bandages and healing potions and commanded,

"Let me see the bites on your legs."

"Yes, Madam Pomfrey."  He smiled as he lay back and closed his eyes. He felt Lily carefully pull back his robe from the worst injury on his thigh.  The potion she poured on it burned for just a moment and then left the area feeling warm.  Lily murmured a healing charm to knit the torn flesh back together and then fell silent.  

"A new scar?" Remus asked.

"I'm sorry, this isn't my field of expertise."

"Doesn't matter.  It's not my first; it won't be my last.  Could you do something for my shoulder? They got it back into place, but they couldn't heal it."

"Make sure he drinks some Blood Boosting Potion, Lily," Charlotte instructed as she bustled past.  "Judging by the floor of his room, he lost a lot of blood."

All of his injuries tended to, and Lily long gone to tend to others, Remus was just starting to drift off to sleep when he heard Charlotte, just a few yards away, her voice raised just enough to carry throughout the ward.

"Excuse me, everyone!  I know you all want to go to sleep, but I really need to speak to all of you."

"Tell us later, Charlotte," grumbled the man nearest her.

"I can't tell you later," she said patiently, "since you all leave at different times and most of you will be asleep later.  This is very important, and I really need all of you to listen for just a few minutes.  Could you sit up or raise your hand if you hear me."   

Remus reluctantly sat up.  Charlotte was looking around the room carefully, taking mental note of who was already asleep.  Remus looked around for Lily.  She and the Muggle nurse were with two heavily bandaged people who appeared to be unconscious.

 "The Wizarding World is currently having some trouble with a group of wizards who are willing to use dark magic, intimidation, and murder in order to gain power.  The leader of this group calls himself Lord Voldemort."  Her use of the name elicited scattered gasps from the few wizards and witches in the room, "and his closest followers are called Death Eaters.  A few months ago, Death Eaters visited a wizard who is a werewolf.  He wouldn't give them what they wanted, they tortured him, and a few days later they killed a member of his family.  The entire incident seemed to have little to do with the fact that he was a werewolf.  However, another werewolf, a Muggle, may have been visited by one of the same wizards.  One of her family members was killed soon after.  

"We do not know for certain if it was the same wizard; we do not know for certain if the murders are linked.  However, the possibility is very real.  We need to know if any Muggles here have been visited recently by a witch or wizard, if any witches or wizards here have been visited by someone they think may be a Death Eater, or if anyone has recently had a loved one die in suspicious circumstances."  The silence in the room was broken only by the creak of cots.  Charlotte had warned Remus to expect that they might not open up in the presence of the group, especially with all the newcomers.

"Albus Dumbledore, the name will mean something to the wizards and witches in the room, has asked three wizards he trusts to look into this.  One of them is here with us."  She had moved closer to Remus as she spoke.  "Would you stand up, Remus?  This is Remus Lupin.  Although this is Remus's first time here at Greystone, he's been a werewolf most of his life, and I've known him several years.  If you trust me, you can trust him.  If anything happens that you think we should know about, or if anything has already happened that you don't feel comfortable telling us today, please contact Remus or myself.  See me if you want Remus's address."

"I'll talk to _him_," one man said as he nodded in Remus's direction, "but I don't suppose the other two wizards you mentioned are wolves."

"No they aren't," Remus admitted, "but you don't have to have contact with anyone you don't wish to."

"I've met them," a blonde woman to Remus's left stood up and addressed the group.  "My husband, Paul, was one of the people murdered.  I've met Remus's friends.  I liked them, and I trust them."

"Are you talking about Sirius and that other friend of yours, the one with glasses?" a voice asked.  Remus looked toward the speaker and saw Eddie.

Remus nodded. "Yes, Sirius and James."

Eddie remained sitting but raised his voice.  "Two full moons ago, Remus and I came within about a minute of killing his friend Sirius.  Do you know what Sirius did the next morning?"  He paused dramatically to allow everyone to imagine Sirius's angry reaction.  "He brought me some of his own clothes to wear since I destroyed my own.  His other friend spent the entire night outside the room we were locked into just to protect us from a bastard who wanted to hurt us."

"Yeah, but the bastard who wanted to hurt you was a wizard too, wasn't he?" asked a voice in the crowd.

* * * * *

"…wake her, you idiot."

"I won't.  I'm just putting a blanket on her.  How's Remus?"

"Sound asleep.  He looks kind of pale, though."

Lily gave up her fight to remain asleep and opened her eyes.  Sirius was just entering the kitchen, and James was sitting on the floor in front of the sofa where she lay.  She reached out to run her fingers through his messy hair, and he immediately turned around with a smile.

"Hi, Sleeping Beauty.  Sorry if I woke you."

"Hi, yourself.  Don't worry, the handsome prince is supposed to wake Sleeping Beauty."

"Poor choice of fairy tale," Sirius called from the kitchen.  "There's no role for me."

"You can be the prince's loyal hound," Lily called back.  She gave James a kiss and a slight smile.  Then she pushed herself up to a semi-sitting position.  "Any excitement last night? and if the answer is 'yes,' remember to edit the details."

James shook his head.  "The most exciting thing to happen all night was when some Muggle visited the circle in a fruitless attempt to perform magic.  Sirius wanted to give him the thrill of his life and let him think he'd succeeded."

"Admit it; you were tempted too," Sirius said as he handed mugs of tea to Lily and James.

James grinned.  "I was.  However, Dumbledore may not be the only wizard reading the Muggle newspapers, and if the pseudo-sorcerer's story of mysterious events at the circle last night got out, someone might figure out that real wizards were in his vicinity, that the circle was watched last night."

"How's Remus?" Sirius asked.

Lily slight smile faded away, and she looked down into her tea.  "I have to give him some bad news when he wakes up."

"What's wrong?" Sirius asked, immediately tense.  James reached up for Lily's hand.

"Someone died last night.  He disemboweled himself during the night and was dead before morning.  He was up against the door where we couldn't see him, and we didn't even know anything was wrong until too late."  The tears Lily had held back all morning started to spill down her cheeks.  James moved up onto the sofa so he could put his arms around her.              

"Charlotte didn't tell everyone this morning because it was his first time there, and no one knew him, but—oh, God, it was awful.  Remus and I met him on our way in.  He was there for the same reason Remus was, and he was worried that he'd hurt himself more than usual because he was in an unfamiliar place.  And—" Lily was fighting harder to remain composed, to be able to speak.  James pulled her tighter and stroked her hair. "And I just kept thinking that it could have been Remus."

Sirius bolted out of his chair and stared out the window.  "He shouldn't be in there; he should be with us."

_-Posted April 2003_


	9. Gathering Information

Disclaimer:  JKR's; not JKLB's.  (But I am so glad she allows them to come over and play.)

Author's Note: Aoife is a Gaelic name and the pronunciation is very close to "Ava."

**Cave Canem**

**Chapter Nine: Gathering Information**

            Although technically part of the Being Division of the Ministry of Magic, the Werewolf Support Services office was housed within a building dedicated to the Beast Division of the Ministry.  Remus presumed some bureaucrat had decided years ago that it made sense to situate Werewolf Support Services near the Werewolf Registry office and the Werewolf Control Unit.  After all, didn't all three departments deal with the same monsters?

            In the corridor, Remus caught sight of the wizard with icy blue eyes who had helped Burdock try to murder Sirius.  Fortunately, the wizard did not notice him—too busy flirting with a witch wearing too much make-up.  Remus hurried past them.  It would not be wise to have a run in with him while still under suspicion for his coworker's murder. 

            At the end of the corridor, Remus found the office he sought.  It had been almost a week since Charlotte's announcement at Greystone, and so far no one had contacted Remus.  He hoped that Charlotte had asked him to come in because she had new information for him.  She had her door open and was dictating a letter to several enchanted quills on her desk.

            "…an estimate at your earliest convenience.  I look forward to your reply.  Sincerely –finite incantatem." The quills fell atop the unfinished letters.

            "Did I interrupt?"

            "No, I prefer to sign the letters myself.  I'm sending out letters to various apothecaries, trying to find someone to fill the order for potions we'll need at Greystone at the end of the month."

            He moved a box from the chair in front of her desk and sat down.  "Trouble with your previous apothecary?"

            Charlotte looked momentarily shocked by the question.  "Didn't Lily tell you what happened to Declan?  She said that she would."

Remus nodded.  "I was very sorry to hear about—oh, was he your apothecary?"

"He was.  A very talented young man.  Unfortunately, that's how he was bitten in the first place.  Some potion ingredients need to be harvested by the light of the full moon to be effective."  Charlotte's face shifted from sad to angry in the blink of an eye.  "Do you know, the apothecary he was working for refused to keep him on as an apprentice when he got bitten!  He was out in that field that night because of that man, and he—  Sometimes I get SO angry."  She closed her eyes and rubbed the bridge of her nose between her thumb and forefinger. "Deco completed his studies on his own.  For a long time, I was his only customer, but fortunately, for Deco at least, I place big orders each month so he got by.  He was just starting to get customers from in and near his village."

Charlotte looked down for a moment, sighed, and looked up at Remus with a smile.  "The past is the past, and I can't afford to dwell there.  There's too much to be done in the present.  Which brings me to why I asked you in today.  I have a little business proposition for you."

Remus smiled back at her.  "If you want me to fill Declan's shoes, I have to warn you that Potions was one of my worst subjects."

"No, no.  If my memory serves me correctly, your best subject was Defense Against the Dark Arts.  Sirius said that you were first in your year."

"Yes?"

"And I suppose you are good at setting up wards and confinement spells?"

"Yes?"  He was starting to suspect where this might be going.  "Do you need wards renewed at Greystone?"

She shook her head.  "You see, coming to Greystone is a real hardship for many of the Muggles.  Travel is much more time consuming for them, and some have to travel significant distances.  They have to take off an entire day from work for travel, and there's always the fear that they will not arrive in time.  Some of them would really prefer to stay at home _if_ a suitable place can be arranged."

"And you want me to help make part of their homes suitable."

"Exactly.  What they need are confinement spells and silencing charms that coincide with the rise of the full moon so they won't need monthly assistance.  That's beyond me; it's beyond most wizards and witches.  But it recently occurred to me that you might be able to do it.  Can you?"

"I think so.  I've never tried before, but I've studied the theory, and I've done similar ones hundreds of times."  Remus thought for a moment.  "I could test it out by putting them on the shed at my mum's," _"I need to stop thinking of the cottage that way,"_ "and I'll have one of my friends test it when the moon rises."

"Excellent!  When you feel you're ready, come up with a fair price, in Muggle money of course, and I'll pass along your name to those who are most likely to be interested."

"No, I don't have to charge anyone."

"Don't be silly, Remus.  You need the work _and_ the pay, and the Muggle werewolves I'll be sending you to have jobs and can afford to pay you.  Muggle employers are much less likely to figure out that an employee is a werewolf, you see.  Even accepting their money, you'll be doing them a great favor, Remus."

Remus nodded.  "I'll be helping them get out of Greystone."

* * * * *

"Contrary to popular belief, the moon does not have to be full when the charm is set.  However, moonlight is necessary, so the charm cannot be performed on cloudy nights or when the moon is new.  Some claim that they can achieve the best results when the moon is gibbous (waxing or waning seems to make no difference), but this has not been proven.  Do not make the mistake…"

Remus put down the book and rubbed his eyes.  He'd studied all the information he could find on the spells he planned to use that night and was now rereading information he could recite by heart.  Tonight was first quarter; the full moon was only a week away.  He felt as ready as he could be to set the wards and charms he would put on the shed, and if he waited until closer to the full moon, he'd be gambling with the weather.  At least if tonight was cloudy, he'd have six more chances.

He replaced the book in the crate full of materials he'd need tonight and books he was moving to the cottage.  He was slowly moving his possessions, few as they were, to the house.  He didn't plan to move the last of his things until after the full moon.  Sirius had asked him not to move until after then. _"Maybe I can't stay with you all night, but I can look after you the next morning.  Promise you'll come home to the flat."  _

Remus had all too readily agreed.  _"I'm such a hypocrite.  I say I want to move out so my friends won't have to take care of me.  Then they offer to take care of me, and I say, 'Yes.'  On the other hand, there's a difference between letting someone help you when you are injured or sick, and letting someone take care of you all the time."_  And, Remus could not deny that Declan's self-mutilation and death had shaken all of them.  The closer they got to the full moon, the more often he noticed Sirius watching him with fear in his eyes.

The smog over the city was taking on a rosy glow; it was time to be on his way.  He started to write a note to Sirius but had only written the word "Dear" when he was interrupted by a knock at the door.  Remus opened it to see a man in his mid-twenties, wearing Muggle clothes.  There was an old scar on his throat, just below his ear and partially hidden by the collar of his shirt, a scar made by the teeth of a wolf.  The man took a step back as the door opened and shifted his weight nervously as if about to bolt away.  He stared at Remus's clothes, and Remus suddenly wished he had worn Muggle clothing instead of a robe that night.

"Can I help you?" Remus asked.  

The man nodded but said, "No, never mind.  This was a mistake."  He turned and began to walk quickly away.

"Wait!  Did Charlotte send you to see me?"

Charlotte's name had the desired effect.  The man halted and turned to face Remus again.  Unfortunately, Sirius chose that moment to apparate into the hallway between them.

"Hi, Moony!  Were you—"  He broke off as he noticed the Muggle.  The Muggle stared at Sirus for a moment and ran for the street.

"Damn it, Sirius.  You have lousy timing."

* * * * *

Remus awoke from his nap to the smell of bacon frying, but he only got as far as sitting up in bed when he heard a light rapping of knuckles on his bedroom door.

"Come in."

Sirius came in bearing a tray with a teapot, two mugs, and a large pile of bacon sandwiches.  "How's my favorite werewolf on 'the day after'?" he asked.  He sat on the foot of the bed and placed the tray between them.  Sirius immediately tucked into the sandwiches, and Remus knew he'd have to keep up if he wanted his share.  But first, information.

"Nothing that won't heal.  How did last night go?"   
            "Incredibly boring," Sirius mumbled with his mouth full.  He quickly swallowed.  "I'm really starting to hate pointless surveillance.  This is the second month in a row that Dumbledore's been sure something would happen during the full moon—he won't say, but I think he's getting information from someone— but then nothing happens.  Either his source is playing him for a fool, or we have a leak."

Remus shook his head.  "No, what about the shed?  Did I get it all right?"

"Of course you did, Moony.  Just before moonrise, I could go in and out as easy as you please, but immediately after, I couldn't get out even with the door wide open.  I tried as both dog and human.  James couldn't get in, either.  The silencing charm worked too.  I howled and growled up a storm, but James couldn't hear me.  But from the inside, I could hear everything he said outside.  That was pretty cool actually, making the silencing charm only in one direction.  You'll have to teach me that.  The only problem was when I was ready to leave; I couldn't get out."  
            "Why?  I didn't put an anti-apparition ward on it."

"You didn't, but Prongs did.  He stood out there as innocent as you please letting me think you'd done it.  Then after a couple of minutes of letting me think I was stuck in there until moonset, he released it and let me out."  Sirius grabbed another sandwich.  "And was your night productive?  Did you find your mysterious visitor from last week?"

Remus shook his head sadly.  "No, he wasn't at Greystone, and believe me, I looked at everyone.  I described him to Charlotte.  She said that there have been two werewolves who have asked her how to get in touch with me and that one of them matched his description."

"Great!  So Charlotte told you how to find him."

Remus had a mouthful, so he merely shook his head.

"Why not?  I mean, it's obvious he wanted to talk to you."

"No, she said she'd encourage him to come see me again.  I told her to tell him that I was moving tomorrow.  Maybe he'll be more willing to come see me if I live alone."

"I've been thinking about that."  Sirius looked down at the bedspread.  He had a feeling that Remus would reject his offer, and somehow it was easier to ask without looking at him.  "You won't live in a flat with me anymore.  I accept that.  I disagree with it, but I accept it.  Would you let me move into the cottage with you?  You've got two bedrooms, and I've got to find a new place anyway since this lease is almost up.  I'll pay you whatever rent you think is fair."  He glanced up hopefully and held his breath without realizing it.

Remus was frowning, and Sirius realized that the offer of rent might have been an inadvertent deal breaker.  "This isn't about 'taking care of you'," Sirius insisted.  I just like living with you.  I hate coming home to a place that I know will be empty.  I like having people around, and you're one of my favorite people.  If you won't do it for my sake, have pity on poor James and Lily.  If I lived alone, I'd be at their house all the time."

"What about Peter?  He'd move in here."

"No, Peter's great, but we get on each other's nerves if it's just the two of us for too long.  We need you or James as a buffer.  So, what do you say?" Sirius held his breath again.  

Remus wasn't sure what to say.  He had already considered this solution and rejected it.  Sirius loved the activity and excitement of living in London, and while it was true that apparition meant that a wizard could live anywhere in Britain and spend days, or nights, in London, Remus did not want to feel responsible if Sirius splinched himself returning home after a night of partying.  Sirius was better off living within walking distance of an Underground station.  Now, Sirius's heartfelt appeal gave him second thoughts.  Sirius wanted to live with his friend, with his packmate.  That was something Remus could understand, especially on a day like today when the wolf was strong.  Both his lupine instinct to live with his pack and his human affection for his friend found the idea appealing.

Sirius saw that Remus was considering it.  He decided to strengthen his case.  "And if that one werewolf, or any others, come to see you, I'll make myself scarce.  I won't scare him off again.  I promise."

This settled the matter for Remus, but not in the direction that Sirius had hoped.  "I'm sorry, Sirius.  But for now, at least, I think it would better if I lived alone.  Maybe when all this with the werewolves is over."

* * * * *

            "Happy housewarming, Moony!"  Peter was nearly hidden behind the enormous ferny plant with purple buds.

            Remus pushed the front door open and stepped back to let Peter and the plant into the house.  "Hi, Peter, come on in.  What is this?"

            "It's a prosiberry plant."  Peter put the pot on the coffee table in front of the sofa.  The dried pods are used in a lot of potions—"

            "I remember.  I just never saw the whole plant before, I suppose."  Remus bent down to have a closer look.  He found a few of the familiar burgundy-colored pods on the lower fronds.

            "Mum says it brings good luck to have one growing in your house or garden."

            "Your mum wishing _me_ luck?  I thought she hated me."

            "Well, it isn't from her; it's from me.  I thought we could all use all the luck we can get these days.  And she doesn't hate you, she just—well, you know how it is."

            "I know.  And thanks, Peter.  This is really nice of you.  I never turn down good luck.  Would you like a cup of tea?  I was just thinking of making some."  Peter looked nervously at the kitchen doorway and back at Remus.  Remus noticed Peter surreptitiously wipe his palms on his robe as if the thought of going into the kitchen had made his palms sweaty.

            "Um, I—"

            "Have a seat on the sofa, Peter.  I'll make some tea and be right back."

            Peter looked instantly relieved.  "All right."

            While the tea was steeping, Remus tried to figure out what else he could offer to go with the tea.  _"Mum always made sure there was something in the biscuit jar, just in case.  I might have to follow her example.  In the meantime…"_  He had purchased groceries a few days ago, but it had been the day before the full moon, and his shopping had leaned as far into his lupine cravings as his budget allowed.  _"Ham sandwiches, perfect for Padfoot, but Peter has a sweet tooth.  Toast and jam, that'll do." _ A few quick bursts of flame from his wand, and several slices of bread were nicely toasted.  A jar of his mother's raspberry jam went onto the tea tray as well.  _"Second to last jar made by Mum.  I'll have to make it last."_

            "Here we are, Peter.  It's not quite the spread the house elves at Hogwarts would treat us to whenever we snuck down to the kitchen, but I think it's better than tea with Hagrid."

            "Remember the rock skipping contest we had at the lake using Hagrid's biscuits?"

            Remus laughed at the memory.  James and Sirius were running neck and neck: eight skips, nine skips, ten skips—when suddenly, Peter's biscuit skipped twenty-one times.  

            "They were suspicious right away that you had levitated it," Remus said.

            "But I swore I didn't," Peter said with grin.

            Remus grinned back.  "It took them half a day to realize that I had."

            "We make a good team."  Peter suddenly looked a bit pensive.  

            "What's wrong, Peter?"

            "It's nothing.  I was just wondering how things are between you and Sirius and James."

            Remus toyed with the spoon in his tea.  "Well, Sirius is still a bit miffed that I moved out, _and_ that I wouldn't let him move in here, but other than that everything is fine."

            "He wanted to move in _here_?  But he loves London."  Peter spread a thick layer of jam on a piece of toast.  "It's worse than I thought."

            "What's worse?"

            Peter hesitated, apparently wishing that he had not said anything.  "It's just that I was running some paperwork over to the Auror's offices, and I overheard part of a conversation.  Someone I didn't know was talking about a lot of rumors and circumstantial evidence suggesting that You-Know-Who is actively recruiting werewolves.  And when that person walked away, Moody said that it was a good thing Sirius lived with you, and that he could keep an eye on you.  Sirius told Moody that you had decided to move out."

Remus stared down into his tea with all the concentration of Divination student trying to read tea leaves for the first time.  He had believed Sirius's offer to move in here and been genuinely made out of friendship and affection.  Now he realized that it had been made out of suspicion and mistrust.  

"I'm sorry, Remus.  Maybe I should go."  Peter appeared downcast as he collected his cloak and left the cottage, but he smiled just before he apparated home.  Divisions between his friends would keep them from suspecting him.

* * * * *

With Remus unable to join his friends for the full moon, Lily and James had begun to invite Remus, Sirius, and Peter over for dinner on the nights of the new moon instead—or as close as they could come if work interfered.  Lily had just decided to head into the kitchen when a knock on the door announced the last arrival.  She detoured to open front door and smiled at Remus.

"Hi, Lily."

"Hi Remus.  Everyone's in the living room playing chess.  Or rather, James and Peter are playing, and Sirius is offering advice that they're ignoring."  

Sirius cocked his head as he watched Lily pass through the room back toward the kitchen.  "What do you think, Wormtail?  Has Lily crossed the line from walking to waddling yet?" Sirius asked.

            Lily halted and looked over her shoulder at Sirius, trying to give him an icy glare, but not altogether succeeding.  "Don't push your luck, Black.  Just for that you have kitchen duty."

            Sirius bounded out of his chair and followed Lily, doing his best imitation of a house elf voice.  "Yes, ma'am, Lily Potter ma'am.  Should Siri strip down and wear a tea towel, ma'am?"

            "NO!" James yelled after him.

            Sirius poked his head back out of the kitchen doorway and grinned at James.  "Afraid Lily will like what she sees?"

            "Perhaps he's afraid of a kitchen accident involving sharp knives or a hot stove and a part of your anatomy of which you are inordinately fond," Remus said as he took the chair Sirius had vacated and studied the chessboard.

            "And if you do, we _don't _want to have to heal you," Peter added.

            "You have a good point, Remus.  After all, I'm not the only one who's fond of my anatomy, and I wouldn't want to break the hearts of my myriad fans."  Sirius disappeared back into the kitchen.

            "Queen's castle, take the bishop," Peter instructed the chess pieces.  The black queen walked serenely to her right and took the space that until a moment before had belonged to a white bishop.  The bishop had run off the board in fright.  "Any new developments with the other werewolves, Remus?"

            "Well, still no clue who the guy with the silver signet ring is.  He's keeping a lower profile.   Every so often, someone gets pressured by him or by another Death Eater, but it seems that for the most part, they aren't giving in.  At least the ones willing to speak with me aren't.  As for the others, it's anyone's guess."

"And none of them want to speak to Sirius or me.  King's knight to king six," James instructed his chessmen.

            "Why aren't they giving in?" Peter asked as he studied the board for his next move.

            "Charlotte," Remus replied as if that said it all, and to a werewolf, it probably would.  "Most of the werewolves are Muggles, and they see this a wizard fight.  If they must take sides, which side do you think they'll take, the side of people who murder werewolves and their families, or the side of the only champion they have in the magical community?  You know, if it weren't for Charlotte, the only wizards or witches they'd know are the ones at the Werewolf Registry and Werewolf Control.  I don't think _they_ would inspire loyalty."

            "You said that before, 'Most of the werewolves are Muggles'," Peter said with a perplexed look.  "Why is that?"

            "It just makes sense, Peter," James said.  "Wizards are only a small percentage of the population, so in terms of sheer numbers, Muggles are more likely to get bitten than wizards are."

            "There's also the fact that Muggles don't believe in werewolves, so they're more likely to make the mistake of being outside during a full moon," Remus added.

 Sirius suddenly came out of the kitchen pulling a laughing Lily by the wrist.  "I can't wait any longer; the suspense is killing me," he said as gave Lily a gentle push toward the sofa and James.  Sirius then disappeared into the study and returned carrying an enormous box wrapped in glossy black wrapping paper covered with silver crescent moons and twinkling red and gold stars.  "Happy belated house warming, Moony!" he said happily as he shoved the box at Remus.  "It's from all of us."

"Everyone else already gave me housewarming presents, Padfoot."

"This is too big to be from one person," Sirius said.  He sat on the floor near Remus's feet and grinned up at him.

"So I see."  He lifted the box.  "Big, but it's light."

"Open it!" James and Sirius exhorted him simultaneously.

Remus put the box on the floor in front of himself and began to slowly and carefully untie the silver and gold ribbons, prolonging Sirius's agony.  When Sirius reached for the box to hurry him along, Remus laughed and tore the paper off.  He lifted the lid off the box and saw crumpled tissue paper in a rainbow of colors.  He dug through the paper and felt inside the box.

"There's nothing here.  Padfoot, you are such a prat."

"It's there.  Keep looking."

Remus looked at Padfoot appraisingly and then resumed the search.  Sirius was obviously pleased with himself about something, something more than an amateurish prank like an empty box.  At the very bottom of the box, his fingers touched parchment, not tissue paper.  He pulled out an envelope sealed with purple sealing wax and the seal of the Beast Division of the Ministry of Magic.  He turned it over and saw that it was addressed to himself.

"Open it," Peter urged.

Ministry of Magic

Beast Division

Werewolf Registry Department

and

Werewolf Control Unit

12 April 1980

Remus Lupin 

WR040460A

Please be informed that the investigation into the disappearance of Werewolf Registry employee Morris Burdock has lead to evidence suggesting a probable link to other suspects.  All werewolves that were ordered to report to Greystone Werewolf Containment Facility are hereby permitted to resume their previous arrangements.  Spot checks of the suitability of your arrangements will take place in the near future.  Notify our office by 20 April 1980 with the location where you will be confined on 30 April 1980. 

                                                                                    Dernier Styles

                                                                                    Werewolf Registry Dept.

Remus sat silently reading and rereading the letter.  He had resigned himself to being at Greystone, to it being the new reality of his nights as a wolf.  He hadn't known if he'd ever see a letter like this one in his hands, and he certainly hadn't expected to see it so soon.

"I told you it was big," Sirius said quietly.

"How?" Remus asked simply.

"Marcus Redstone, the bloke who worked for Werewolf Control until he got bitten, said that when the Death Eaters came after him, what they wanted was the information in the Werewolf Registry," Sirius explained.

"So they could find other werewolves," Remus said.  He thought of all the werewolves who had had trouble with the Death Eaters since then.

Sirius nodded.  "It was shortly afterward that a _Werewolf Registry employee disappeared.  It just made sense that they were related."_

"We made the connection immediately," James said, "but it's taken us four months to get the Ministry to admit it's the most probable explanation of Burdock's disappearance."

"They'd probably still be ignoring the obvious if we hadn't gotten a little help from Aoife McLaughlin.  She works for the _Daily Prophet, you know," Lily said.  Remus looked at Lily in sudden panic.  "Don't worry, I kept your name out of it.  I just told her about James and Sirius's theory behind Burdock's disappearance and that the Ministry was ignoring the obvious and accusing werewolves instead.  Her editor wasn't interested in the story, 'Old news,' he said, but the Ministry didn't know that.  She went down to the Ministry with a photographer in tow and scared them into correcting their mistake before she exposed them on the front page as bungling incompetents."_

"Thank you," Remus said as he looked at each of his friends. All of them were looking back at him with happy smiles.  "I don't know what else to say."

"I think Remus owes Aoife a lovely romantic dinner," Sirius said as he got up and headed back to the kitchen.

"I probably shouldn't date someone you have, Padfoot."

"I dated her, but I didn't sleep with her, so I haven't spoiled her for you mere humans."

"Well, if I were a 'mere human,' I'd consider it.  I'll help you with dinner."

* * * * *

"Do you have any plans for after work, Peter?" Hollings asked cheerfully as he left for lunch.  "If you do, I suggest you use your lunch break to cancel those plans. You're going with me after work."  

And so Peter found himself once again in the dark cellar in Knockturn Alley.  Hollings had brought him here six times before, and he suspected it would have been even more if he hadn't kept supplying Hollings with small items of information such as the fact that the Order was watching ancient stone circles all over the island. Two hooded figures stood before him.  One was the wizard who was always here when Peter came.  The other had been here the last time Peter had come. 

"We have a small dilemma you may be able to help us with, Pettigrew," he had said the last time.  "I need to recruit some werewolves for a little project, but one of your friends seems to be inquiring into my business.  I've heard that you successfully visited his home before.  Perhaps you could do so again."

"I'm disappointed, Pettigrew," the same wizard said now.  "I'm told that you are quite helpful when it comes to supplying information, but it appears you let us down when we need you to do more." He pulled a highly polished wand from an inside pocket of his cloak.  Peter saw light reflect off the man's silver ring as he pointed the wand at Peter.

"I have some information you need," Peter said quickly.  The man did not move or speak.  "Remus isn't your problem.  Not all of the werewolves trust him.  Your problem is the witch who runs Werewolf Support Services, Charlotte Stirling.  Remus said that she's the sole reason the Muggle werewolves won't help you."  He licked his bottom lip nervously; his mouth was so dry he was amazed that he could speak.

"Go on," the wizard with the silver ring said.

"Remus said that the Muggle werewolves see this a Wizard fight, not theirs.  He said that they don't want to take sides, but if they must, they're taking Charlotte's side because she's so good to them.  He said," Peter tried to remember the exact words. "He said, 'If it weren't for Charlotte, the only wizards or witches they'd know are the ones at the Werewolf Control Unit and the Werewolf Registry, and they wouldn't inspire loyalty like Charlotte does'."

The silver-ringed hand lowered.  "I'm impressed, Pettigrew.  Too many think the path to survival is blind obedience.   I say, 'Kill,' and they kill.  You demonstrated that you have a brain.  You realized that the information you could get from Lupin would be more valuable to me than his death, and so you acted accordingly.  You could go far, Pettigrew."

Peter smiled in spite of himself.  His motivation in bringing that information had been merely an attempt to keep both himself and Remus alive, but it had taken brains to pull it off, hadn't it?  He had gotten the information he needed from Remus without raising any suspicion, and he had realized the significance of the information for this Death Eater.  

"What would you do if you were me, Pettigrew?  Would you kill this witch?"

"No, that would make her a martyr.  She'd still inspire loyalty."

"Very good.  Continue."

Peter thought for a moment.  "You need to separate her from the werewolves without killing her.  If she were fired by the Ministry, or unable to work for some reason, and someone else were to take her job—  Or perhaps if she were killed by a werewolf and her death couldn't be connected to you—"

"I say again, you could go far."

Peter smiled again.  It felt good to be appreciated, no matter who the source.  It was certainly better than hearing his friends' patronizing answers, _"It just makes sense, Peter." _ If something "just made sense," he wouldn't have asked.

The silver-ringed hand flew up so suddenly that it was a blur.  "Crucio!" the wizard cried.  Peter screamed as every nerve ending in his body burst into fiery pain.  If he had been capable of thought at that moment, he would have prayed for unconsciousness.  Suddenly the pain ebbed away, and Peter was left panting on the floor.  Highly polished black boots were mere inches away from his face, and Peter looked up into a black-masked face.

"I may not value _blind_ obedience, but I do value obedience.  If I decide tomorrow that I want you to kill Lupin, what will you do?"

"I'll kill him," Peter whispered.  He hoped it was a lie, but he feared it was not.

* * * * *

"Where on earth did I put that notebook," said a witch with short, brown hair as she rifled through her desk drawers. 

Remus watched her while he gathered up the nerve to say, "Hello."  He'd never been nervous to do so before.  This was just Aoife from Gryffindor, that's all.

"Hi, Aoife, still as disorganized as you were in school, I see."

She looked up in surprise.  "Oh, hi, Remus.  Be a love and help me find a blue notebook.  I've got notes in it I need."

"Why don't you summon it?"

She stopped in mid-search and slapped her forehead.  "I'm too stupid to live, aren't I?"  She pulled her wand out of her pocket and closed her eyes to imagine the notebook she needed.  "Accio notebook."  A slim blue volume wiggled free from the center of the pile on the front left corner of her desk and shot into her hand.  Remus laid a steadying hand on top of the disturbed pile just before it could tumble to the floor.  

"I've really got to run," Aoife explained as she grabbed a red cloak.  "My editor wants me to cover a stupid press conference at the Ministry, nothing important, but someone has to do it, and it starts," she looked at the clock on the wall, "now, so—but I'd love to talk to you.  Can you meet me at the Leaky Cauldron around seven?"

"O.K."  And she was gone.

At seven o'clock, Remus sat at a small table in the Leaky Cauldron debating the merits of buying a drink now, or waiting until Aoife arrive.  If he got a drink now, he'd have something to hold onto and keep his hands busy.  However, he was nervous enough that he might drink it too quickly.  And since he would have one or two drinks while she was here, he really didn't want to have a head start on drinking.  Alcohol and werewolves were a risky mix.  On the other hand, one drink now might help him be less nervous when she arrived.

He had chosen a seat from which he could see all the entrances into the pub; she would probably arrive from Diagon Alley, but he was not certain.  He really, really didn't want to see Sirius come in.  Oh, yes, Sirius would try to be helpful.  That wasn't even a question.  However, Sirius's matchmaking assistance was not what Remus wanted.

A red cloak.  Aoife was scanning the room, looking for him.  Remus stood as he waved and smiled at her.  She smiled back and made her way through the room.  

"I'm so glad I'm not late," she said as she draped her cloak over an empty chair and took a seat beside Remus.  "I have to confess that I almost forgot to come.  Don't take it personally; I'm just forgetful.  Ask Sirius.  I stood him up once."

"I remember.  His ego was slightly bruised, but we all thought it was good for him."  They grinned at each other and both started to laugh at Sirius's expense.  

"What do you want to drink?" Aoife asked as she stood up.  "And the correct answer is 'stout,' by the way."

Remus stood as well.  "No, I'll get the drinks."  But Aoife, who was closer to the bar, was already moving toward it.

"Technically, I asked you here.  Let me get the first round," she called over her shoulder.

Remus sat back down and watched Aoife speak with Tom the bartender.  _"So far so good.  This is starting to feel comfortable, and I'm not making an idiot of myself.  She doesn't mind paying occasionally—always good to know since I'm frequently broke or nearly so.  Now, there's just the biggest issue.  How does she feel about werewolves?  She helped Lily get us out of involuntary confinement at Greystone—that bodes well."_

Aoife returned with two pint glasses, each filled to brim, and just a bit beyond, with black-brown liquid and a thin cap of creamy foam.  

"Slainte," she toasted just before they each took a first sip.  "So, you have the advantage of me, Remus.  You know where I'm working.  What are you doing?"

Remus was very glad he actually had an answer for that question.  "Lately I've been pretty busy putting up wards and such for people who need them."

"That's perfect for you.  I remember how good at that you were in school, and people certainly need all the protection they can get these days.  Lily told me that someone tried to get into their house but only got through half the wards."

"They got through one of the ones I did, I'm afraid, but not the other one."  His conscience was still troubled by that failure.

Aoife, on the other hand, smiled triumphantly.  "See, that ward would have saved Lily if she had been home."

"That and one Lily did," Remus admitted.  "And we did figure out what might have gone wrong with the other ward; Polyjuice Potion can fool it.  It was Peter's idea, actually.  I'm trying to figure out how to eliminate that flaw now."

"Well, it just so happens that my parents want to increase the wards around our house."  She pulled out a small notebook and a self-inking quill.  "Which company do you work for?  I'll tell my parents to contact them and ask for you."

"I'm not—I'm just working independently, actually."  Remus feigned sudden interest in his drink.  _"I've been fired by half the firms out there and refused employment by the rest."_

"You're a smart man, Remus Lupin.  Make your own hours, days off whenever you choose, and no boss taking credit for your hard work.  I never asked why you stopped by.  Just a social call by an old friend or did you have something specific you wanted to talk about?"

_"Here we go,"_ Remus thought.  He took a quick sip for courage—or to stall.  "Both.  I wanted to thank you for helping Lily with that Morris Burdock situation.  It was great the way you pressured the Ministry into correcting their mistake, especially since you might have gotten into trouble with your editor for doing it."

She sat back in her chair and waved her hand dismissively.  "It was the right thing to do."

Remus felt hope swell inside him.  _"Helping werewolves—the right thing to do."_

"The way I see it," Aoife continued, "one of the press's most important duties is to keep an eye on the government.  When they make a mistake, _someone_ has to call them on it.  How are we ever going to succeed against You-Know-Who if the government bungles the investigations into what he and his followers are doing?  Here they were assuming that a werewolf killed Burdock and saying that knowing where werewolves are for the full moon is enough.  Instead, they should have been focusing on the fact that You-Know-Who was after the information in the werewolf registry, trying to find werewolves, and presumably recruiting werewolves.  Dark creatures are his natural allies, after all.  Personally, I think we should be as concerned with what werewolves are up to the rest of the month as we are for the full moon.  Don't you agree?"

 Remus really wanted to make an excuse about a previous appointment and hurry out of the room.  However, running out of the room with his tail between his legs every time someone disparaged werewolves was a quick way to be found out.  Besides, a reporter on their side could be useful, _if_ she could be made to see their side.

 "Actually," Remus said, "Voldemort _is_ trying to recruit werewolves, but not succeeding."

"What makes you think that?"

"I know some werewolves; I've been talking with them."

Aoife whistled and shook her head in amazement.  "You're braver than I am.  I may be a Gryffindor, but I'm not that brave.  You wouldn't catch me talking to a werewolf unless there were steel or silver bars between us.  And I _definitely_ wouldn't believe them as readily as you seem to be willing to do."

Remus managed to make pointless small talk—he couldn't remember about what—for a few more minutes, then reaching the bottom of his glass, he thanked Aoife for meeting him and left through the doorway to the Muggle street.  Ignoring the curious looks his cloak was receiving, Remus hurried halfway down the block before ducking into an alley.  He leaned back against the wall and berated himself silently.

_"Stupid, stupid, Remus.  I don't know why you expected anything different.  Rule number one:  never get your hopes up, and you'll never be disappointed.  Now pull yourself together and decide where you're going."_  The idea of going home to an empty house was very disheartening._  "Maybe Sirius won't mind company for dinner, but I am NOT telling him about this."_

Sirius's flat wasn't too far away, and the walk might help get his head straight enough that Sirius wouldn't realize anything was wrong. Other than his cloak, he was wearing Muggle clothes, and a quick spell disguised his cloak as a Muggle-style overcoat.  

As he walked the familiar streets between the Leaky Cauldron and the flat, he was starting to feel better and better about his decision to visit Sirius.  It was the first time he'd just dropped by since he moved out.  Maybe spending some unscheduled time together would help Sirius realize that nothing important had changed between them simply because Remus had moved out.  His fist came within an inch of knocking on the door when he heard a woman's laughter inside.

Remus's hand dropped to his side, and he smiled sadly.  _"At least Sirius has enough of a love life for both of us."  _He apparated home.


	10. Full Moon Murders

Disclaimer:  The characters and the world they inhabit all belong to J.K. Rowling.

**Cave Canem**

Chapter Ten: Full Moon Murders 

            "Damn, you are so stubborn, Moony."  Sirius stared out of the kitchen window, his knuckles white as he gripped the edge of the kitchen sink.     

            "I really wish you'd stop staring at the shed, Padfoot.  It's bad enough that I have to go in there the day after tomorrow, but—"

            "You _don't_ have to go in there.  Isn't that what I've been saying for the past half hour?"

            Remus gathered the dirty dishes from the table as he rose from his chair.  He placed the dishes in the sink and then just stood quietly beside his friend.  There was no need to repeat his arguments.  The Werewolf Registry and Werewolf Control Unit had promised "spot checks" of the confinement arrangements made by the werewolves suspected of killing Burdock, so Remus had to be locked up for a few months at least.  As much as he wanted to run free with his friends, he couldn't risk it.  Sirius understood this, and on some level, he agreed with it.  He just disliked feeling helpless, and he needed time to accept the unavoidable.

            "But why here?  At least the cellar at James and Lily's is bigger, and we could all keep you company."

            Remus wanted desperately to agree with Sirius.  Confinement, whether at Greystone, here, or in the cellar, was difficult to handle.  But far, far worse was loneliness.  He had hated Greystone because he was bereft of his pack, and here, in the small shed, it would be just the same.  "No," Remus said sadly.

            "Why?"  It was more of a cry than a word.

            "I just don't think it's safe."

            Sirius finally tore his eyes away from the shed to look across his shoulder at Remus.  "That's just stupid.  You know you can't get out of the cellar; you charmed the damn doors yourself.  And even if you could get out, Prongs and I will be there, and we won't let you get out."

            "No, I'm not worried about what _I'll_ do—for a change."  

Sirius's body language changed subtly.  He realized that he and Remus were not following a variation of the usual "'I'm a dangerous, ravening beast,' 'Yes, but we love you anyway,'" script.  Anger and exasperation, which had held his shoulders tense, fell away.  Sirius turned to face Remus fully, ready to listen, open to whatever he had to say.  He nodded, encouraging Remus to continue.

"The Werewolf Registry has the right to drop in unannounced wherever I'm planning to be confined.  After Lily's close call last year, do you really think we should give them the right to drop in at the Potters'?"

Sirius's mouth fell open slightly as he realized what Remus was implying.

Remus shook his head.  "No, I'm not saying that anyone working for the Registry is a Death Eater.  It's just—well, Styles and that other one were willing to help Burdock murder you just because you're friends with a werewolf.  What makes you think they'd be any more ethical when it comes to Lily?  If the three of you are locked in the cellar with me, Lily's quite alone upstairs."

"Oh shit, Styles was the blue-eyed wizard with Burdock.  He was the one who signed the letter letting you leave Greystone, wasn't he?" 

Remus nodded.  

"That does it, Remus.  You are NOT going to be alone tomorrow night.  I'm spending the night outside the shed to guard you."

Remus couldn't help but laugh.  "I hardly think _your_ presence will defuse the situation if Styles does drop by." 

"Fine, James and Peter will guard you from Styles, but Padfoot will stay by the window of the shed and keep you company.  I'm not letting you spend one more full moon without your packmate."

"I'd like that," Remus admitted.

* * * * *

"How many are we expecting tonight, Charlotte?" Simon asked as he grabbed one handle of an enormous basket full of clean linens for the "morning after" ward.  Charlotte had charmed it to float a few feet above the floor, so Simon merely had to steer the basket as they walked up the stairs. 

"Just eighteen.  Remus set up some wards at Emily's house, so she won't be here anymore, and of course Remus and those others caught up in the Burdock situation don't have to come anymore—"

"That's good.  None of them liked it here."

"—but the Ellard brothers said that they needed to come due to a problem at home."

"The Ellards?  We haven't seen them in over a year."

Charlotte went through the double doors into the corridor of locked rooms.  Charlotte and Simon tried to avoid calling them cells, even in their own minds.  Simon continued up one more floor to the ward full of cots.  He left the basket floating there.  There would be plenty of time to come upstairs and make up the beds during the night.  He headed back downstairs to help Charlotte check the rooms and to greet the early arrivals.

 _"It'll be nice to see Gavin Ellard again,"_ Simon reflected.  Although an eight-year age difference and different interests had kept the two from becoming true friends, they did have one important bond.  They were both squibs from old wizard stock.  That alone, even without Simon's positive attitude toward werewolves, was enough to make them friendly acquaintances.  _"We squibs have to stick together,"_ Simon thought with a smile.  

He remembered several conversations they had had about growing up jealous of their magically gifted siblings.  Gavin had said, _"I was so jealous of Leslie when we were growing up, but after we were bitten, I realized that I had been the lucky one.  I grew up knowing that I'd have to lead a Muggle life, but poor Leslie got through five years at Hogwarts before it all got ripped away from him.  He's had a harder time adjusting."_

As Simon pushed open the double doors, he caught a faint whiff of the cleaning  potions they had used last month to cleanse the rooms of blood.  It had taken him several months of working here before he had dared to ask one of the werewolves if they could smell blood from the previous month anyway.  _"Of course,"_ was the reply.

"Is Lily coming tonight?" he asked.

"She promised to be here in the morning.  That's when we need her the most," Charlotte replied as looked closely at the hinges of a door.  The hinges were glowing with a pale blue light from a spell designed to reveal hidden cracks and stresses.  Weaknesses would appear as white lines.

"It's nice of her to keep volunteering even though Remus won't be here," Simon said as he began looking into each of the rooms, checking that the cabinets high on the walls were still secure and looking for anything that might harm the werewolves during the night.

"She offered to come for the whole night.  She said that her husband won't be home—he wants to keep an eye on Remus—and she didn't want to sit home alone.  But I told her to stay home and get a good night's sleep for the baby's sake."

* * * * *

Peter paced in his bedroom, looking at his watch occasionally.  He didn't dare be late—he didn't want to imagine the consequences if they thought he was backing out—but he didn't like the idea of being early, either.  The less time spent with his new acquaintances, the better. There was a soft knock at the door.

"Peter?  Are you awake?" asked his mother from the other side of the door.

Peter considered pretending that he was asleep and not answering.  He had gone upstairs early on the pretext that he was ill—the same excuse he had used to get out of going to Remus's.  He didn't want his mother to come in and see that he was dressed to go out.  However, an alibi might be a good idea, so he needed to let his mother know that he was indeed home.

"I'm really sleepy, Mum."

"Do you want anything before I go to my room?"

"No thank you.  I'll talk to you in the morning.  Good night."

"Good night, Dear.  I hope you feel better tomorrow."

Peter looked at his watch again and then pressed his ear to the door.  He picked up a black umbrella from his bed, opened the door carefully, and made his way down to the fireplace unseen.  He lit a self-extinguishing fire and threw in a pinch of Floo Powder. "Thirteen Oaks," he said and stepped into the green flames.

He stepped out of an enormous fireplace_.  "Even Sirius wouldn't have to duck his head for this mantle," _he thought.  He was in a two-story entrance hall with a highly polished parquet floor and a curving staircase.  _"An old wizard house, if they built a fireplace like this in the entrance hall."_  A house-elf wearing a neat white linen pillowcase stepped out of the shadows under the staircase.

"The master is waiting for you in the library, sir.  Please follow me."  The pair of doors to their left opened at their approach, but it was not a library.  It was a formal sitting room decorated in cream and gold.  The house-elf led Peter through the room to a pair of doors on the opposite wall and knocked.

"Come in," a man called from inside.  The house-elf gestured for Peter to go in before it scurried back the way it had come.  Peter took a deep, shaky breath before opening the door.

The wizard with the silver ring—Peter still did not know his name—was in one of a pair of burgundy leather wingchairs flanking a fireplace with an elaborately carved mantelpiece.  A heavy book was open in his lap.  He watched Peter enter and close the door.  He glanced at the umbrella in Peter's hand.

"Is it properly prepared?"

"Yes, sir," Peter answered.

The wizard returned to reading the book.  Peter didn't dare come farther into the room without being told to do so.  He looked around the room with furtive glances.  Tall windows were on either side of the fireplace, but draperies of heavy silk completely blocked the view.  The other three walls were covered floor to ceiling in bookcases.  The bookcase on the far wall seemed misty, and Peter realized that a spell prevented him from reading the titles.  The wizard suddenly rose and returned his book to the misty bookcase.

"If you disappoint me in _any _way tonight, Pettigrew, do you know what I will do?"

_"Torture me?  Kill me?"_ Peter wondered.  He shook his head and whispered, "No, sir."

"I'll make sure your werewolf friend learns who killed his mother.  That's one thing I've learned in the past year.  Werewolves are fiercely loyal to their families, to their _pack_."  He spoke the last word with disdain and disgust.  "He'd tear you apart if he knew, wouldn't he?"

"Yes, sir."  Peter dropped his gaze to the carpet. _"But I only killed her so Hollings wouldn't torture her."_

"Follow me," the wizard ordered and opened a door in the center of the misty bookcase.  Peter hurried to follow, risking only one glance at the charmed bookcase as he passed close by.  The titles were just as obscured at close range.

The wizard led Peter through an unoccupied card room and into a sparsely furnished room in which four people waited.  All four, three men and a woman, wore Muggle clothing.  They watched Peter and the other wizard carefully, alertly, but otherwise seemed unafraid.

"I hope you are all still looking forward to running free tonight, to _hunting_ tonight," the wizard began.

_"Werewolves,"_ Peter realized.

"If you have any second thoughts," the wizard continued, "this is your last chance to back out."  Somehow, Peter doubted they would be allowed to back out and live.  The wizard waited silently, looking each one in the eye in turn. All but one man dropped their gaze, but no one spoke.  "Excellent.  My colleague here," he put his hand on Peter's shoulder, "has prepared a portkey to take you to the village we are visiting tonight.  If you are touching this umbrella when instructed to do so, you will be transported by magic to our destination.  Some of you will be pleased to know that all of the local inhabitants are witches or wizards."

"My favorite prey," said the werewolf who dared to stare back at the wizard.  Peter had to suppress a shudder at the sight of the werewolf's cold smile.

The wizard flicked his wand at a wardrobe in the corner, causing the door to swing open.  Six or seven robes, plain and dark-colored, hung inside.  "Change before you go.  You'll stand out if you wear Muggle clothing."  Then he addressed Peter.  "Another colleague and I will apparate to Hogsmeade.  You will travel with them."  He gestured his head toward the werewolves.  "We will meet you where you arrive unless people are around.  In that case, we will meet you at a stile at the end of the road leading out of the village and into the hills."

* * * * *

"I vote that we don't let Moony decide the menu alone anymore," Sirius said as he poked through the Irish stew with the serving spoon, helping himself to more.

"I vote that people who are having third helpings of stew aren't allowed to turn around and pretend they don't like it," Remus replied with a slight smile.

"I'm just eating the vegetables.  I'm not crazy about the mutton.  Too gamey."

James laughed.  "This from a man who chases and _eats_ squirrels and rabbits."

"I only eat them when I'm a dog."

Remus reached across the table, picked up Sirius's bowl, and placed it on the floor.  "So eat, Padfoot."

"Very funny," Sirius griped as he buttered another roll and ate it in three bites.  Then he stood up and circled the table.  He started to reach for his bowl but transformed in mid-reach.  He buried his snout in the bowl and bolted down the stew, even licking the bowl clean.  

"Like it now?" Remus asked.  In answer, Padfoot licked the traces of gravy off his snout.  He jumped up, putting his forepaws in Remus's lap, and licked his face.  Remus laughed, squirming to escape the doggy kisses.  "Do you want more?"  He asked still laughing.  

Sirius transformed back, a wide grin on his face.  "No thanks," he replied as he stood up.  "But I can understand why you like it now."

"Mum used to make it for me," Remus said.  His smile became more wistful, but remained.  "I guess I was just feeling nostalgic, but from now on, I'll stay away from mutton when you guys are coming over.  Peter and Lily probably wouldn't like it any more than you two did."

"No, it's fine," James protested.

"You only had one bowl, but about five rolls," Remus pointed out.  He propped up his elbows on the table and buried his face in his hands.

"Are you O.K., Moony?" Sirius asked as he put a hand on his friend's shoulder.

"Headache.  How much time do I have?"

Sirius glanced at his watch.  "Twenty-seven minutes.  Why don't you go lie down on the sofa while James and I clean up in here."

Remus nodded and rose from the table.  He paused in the doorway and looked back.  "Before I forget to say it, remember that you shouldn't come near the shed as humans."

"We won't," James promised.  "And if Styles does show up, Sirius _will_ stay a dog and let me do the talking."

 "Yeah, yeah, yeah," Sirius grumbled.  "But I might piss on his leg."

* * * * *

Peter looked up from his watch.  "It's time to go.  Please touch the umbrella."  He held out the umbrella so all four werewolves could easily touch some part of its length.  One of the werewolves hung back a moment longer than the others.  When he grabbed hold of the umbrella as well, Peter released a breath that he didn't know he had been holding.  _"Thank God.  If one of them didn't come, I'd probably get blamed."_

There was a sudden tug at his belly as the portkey activated.  Peter stumbled when his feet hit the ground, but he fell against the werewolf beside him and managed to stay on his feet.  All four werewolves seemed to have landed on their hands and feet.  _"Muggles.  They aren't used to portkeys."_  Peter looked around for witnesses to their arrival, but there were none.  He was pleased to note that they were within a few feet of the exact spot he had intended the portkey to bring them.  They were in a field just outside Hogsmeade.  The Forbidden Forest loomed nearby, claiming the field with deep shadows.

"Now what?" the female werewolf asked.  Peter realized with a start that she was asking _him_.  He was in charge until the other wizard arrived.  

"Now we wait," Peter said.  He hoped he sounded calm and authoritative.  _"Just pretend you're James,"_ he told himself.

One of the werewolves, the one who had dared to stare at the silver-ringed wizard earlier, approached Peter and stood within a foot of him.  He stared down into Peter's eyes.  For a moment, Peter considered looking down.  _"Look away,"_ he heard Sirius say in his mind.  _"Looking him in the eyes is a challenge."_  But Peter didn't look away.  _"Why should I back down?  He's just a werewolf, just like Moony.  I'm probably the only human they'll ever meet who's spent full moon after full moon in the company of a werewolf."_ That thought gave him a boost of unexpected courage.

 "Most wizards get nervous around us," the werewolf said as he slowly circled around Peter.  "Aren't you afraid we'll bite you, Little Wizard?"

"Not for another—" Peter glanced at his watch.  It was counting down the local time to moonrise, just as it did every twenty-nine days. "—fourteen minutes, I'm not.  And I don't intend to stick around for that."  

The werewolf leaned down and whispered in Peter's ear.  "I could bite you right now.  I don't have to wait for the moon, Little Wizard."

"Go ahead," Peter said.  "I know you're only contagious when you're a wolf.  I'm not stupid."

The werewolf glared at Peter for another moment and then walked several yards away without a backward glance.  He had counted on Peter believing the only common misconception that werewolves are always contagious.  _"Being friends with a werewolf has its advantages,"_ Peter thought with a smile.

"I see you all made it here in one piece," said a woman's voice behind Peter.  

He lit his wand as he whirled around.  "Lumos!"

"Put that out!" she commanded.  The woman who spoke wore a witch's robe, and the silver-ringed wizard stood beside her, so Peter complied instantly.  

"Nox," he murmured, but he noted that her eyes, dilated in the dark shadows, had reflected his wandlight.  _"Another werewolf."_

"Jumpy, isn't he?" she said to the wizard, and he nodded with a smile.

"He's still new."  He looked beyond Peter at the Muggle werewolves.  "Leave your robes here.  The portkey, the umbrella, will be left here as well.  Ten minutes after moonset, the portkey will return you to my house _if_ you are touching it.  Make sure that you _are_ back in time."  Then he looked at Peter again.  "Be here at moonset.  Help them if necessary.  If they aren't all here by the deadline, go into the village, find the stragglers, and kill them.  Do _not_ allow them to be captured and identify me.  You may leave until then."

Peter disapparated without looking at the werewolves again.

* * * * *

Moving in opposite directions, Simon and Charlotte each made their way down one side of the corridor, checking that the doors were locked as they went.  Moonrise was imminent.  He paused outside one door and but did not violate the occupant's privacy by looking in the barred window.

"Good night, Gavin," Simon said.

Gavin did not reply, and Simon moved on.  Simon had tried to strike up a conversation with Gavin when he and his brother had arrived, but Gavin had said that he wasn't in the mood to talk.  Simon didn't let it bother him.  Many werewolves were less than social the day of the full moon.  Gavin would probably be friendlier tomorrow.

Simon had just reached the end of the corridor, when he heard someone say, "Alohomora," and heard a lock slide back.  He turned to see Leslie Ellard walk out of his room holding a wand.

"Is something wrong, Leslie?" Simon asked.  

Leslie ignored him and began to magically unlock and open first his brother's door and then several others.

"Leslie!  What are you doing?" Charlotte demanded as she strode toward him. "There isn't time for—" She fell silent and stopped in her tracks when Leslie pointed his wand at her.

"They may not allow monsters to attend Hogwarts, but I did learn a few things before they threw me out," Leslie said calmly.  "STUPEFY!"  Charlotte crumpled to the floor.   Simon made an angry move toward him, but Leslie immediately spun around and pointed the wand at him as well

"What the hell are you doing?" Philip demanded.  He and several other released werewolves had come to the doors of their rooms to see what was happening.

"I'm showing you that you don't have to be sheep anymore," Leslie said.  "It's high time you spent your nights as wolves the way we were meant to do.  It's time you ran free."

"You are _not_ going to make me a murderer," Lydia said angrily.  "I _chose_ to come here so I couldn't run free."

"Get back in your cell," a man growled.  "We won't let you kill Charlotte and Simon."

Leslie was the only one armed with a wand, but he didn't know where to point it.  He backed up to the wall as six naked, angry werewolves closed in on him.  Gavin hung back beside Simon, his head bowed.

"I'm sorry, Simon," Gavin said quietly.  "They didn't give me a choice."

Simon watched the stalemate in the center of the corridor.  Leslie didn't dare stun one for fear that the others would attack.  None of the other werewolves made the first move; they merely stared him down.  

Gavin suddenly shuddered, and Simon realized that the moon would be the only victor tonight.  He shoved Gavin backward into the nearest cell and locked it, but then looked back at the others horrified.  The transformation had begun, and even the ones who wanted to be in their cells were now physically unable to get that far.  There simply wasn't time for Simon to drag seven transforming werewolves into their rooms—but there was time to drag Charlotte into one.  He grabbed under her arms and pulled her backward into a room.  He quickly checked that her wand was still in her pocket before pulling the door closed.  

The door opened out, and the wolves would probably push against the door, but between the door and the doorjamb was a crack wide enough to insert claws.  Werewolves were clever; soon, one or more of them would start clawing at the door to open it.  _"Without magic, there's no way to lock it from inside.  I could hold onto the bars to keep it closed, but they might bite my hands.  My belt!"_  He untied his belt, threaded it around three bars, and wrapped the ends around his hands.  He braced his foot against the wall, ready to pull and hold the door closed.  "WAKE UP, CHARLOTTE!  I need you to lock this door or this is going to be a long night!  CHARLOTTE!  WAKE UP!"    

* * * * *

James's parents had taken him to a zoo when he was a young boy.  He vividly remembered the image of a tiger pacing restlessly back and forth in his small cage.  He watched sadly as a large black dog, his best friend, paced in just the same way.  The dog was not caged by bars or walls, but by friendship.  He paced in front of the small metal shed containing their other friend.  He could no more move away from the shed than he could release their friend from the curse that sent him in there.  As agonized screams were torn from Remus's throat against his will, Padfoot flattened his ears back against his head.  He looked up at the stag with sorrowful eyes and whimpered.  Prongs rubbed his nose against the back of the dog's head.  _"I know, Sirius.  I hate this part too."_

Author's Notes:

"I've been living off rats mostly.  Can't steal too much food from Hogsmeade: I'd draw attention to myself."—Sirius Black in _Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire_

I just couldn't resist making pre-Azkaban Sirius be a picky eater.

"Poor old Snuffles," said Ron…."He must really like you, Harry….Imagine having to live off rats."  You're so right, Ron.  You're so right.

Leslie Ellard was forced to leave Hogwarts when he became a werewolf because he was at Hogwarts before Dumbledore became Headmaster.  In _Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban_, Remus says, "It seemed impossible that I would be able to come to Hogwarts….But then Dumbledore became Headmaster, and he was sympathetic."  I imagine that Dumbledore became Headmaster very shortly before Remus's first year.  The Ellard brothers are several years older. 

Although this chapter does contain a quotation from my story "Painting the Town Red," the werewolf lore here violates the werewolf lore there.  In "Painting the Town Red," I decided to have werewolf bites be contagious all month; in this story, werewolves are only contagious while in wolf form.  But you can handle the contradiction, can't you?


	11. Moonset

Disclaimer:  The characters and the world they inhabit all belong to J.K. Rowling.

**Cave Canem**

Chapter Eleven: Moonset 

            Lily apparated to the front door of Greystone and used her wand to release the charm that kept the front door locked as long as the full moon ruled the sky.  Moonset was only ten minutes away, so Lily hurried through the decaying corridors.  It was at moments like this that she became irritated with the anti-apparition wards that protected so many locations in these difficult times.   

            Halfway to the stairs, she heard the keening, lonely howl of a wolf, a wolf calling for his pack.  She stopped dead in her tracks.  Somewhere in the depths of the building, at least two others answered the call.  Lily had heard howling every time she had come to Greystone, but for the first time it awoke some primal fear inherited from an ancient ancestor.  A silencing charm surrounded the floor where the werewolves were confined.  Either the charm was down, or the wolves were not locked in.  _"Charlotte and Simon!"_  Lily took one involuntary step forward before looking around and retreating toward the door outside.

            At the last corridor intersection she needed to pass, she saw two small lights at the end of a corridor, her own wandlight reflected in the eyes of a wolf.  Lily broke into a run.  She neither needed to see her pursuer nor hear his running paws to know that the wolf had as well.  She could hear Remus's voice in her mind.  _"When I'm transformed, stunning spells and weaker curses and hexes will not affect me.  Don't even try, Lily.  If you have to protect yourself, kill me, please." _ Lily didn't want to kill anyone, but she had to protect her baby, and she knew the wolf had to be gaining on her in the debris strewn corridor.  

_"Debris!"_  Lily blew apart the base of a wall as she ran past and again on the other side.  She heard the walls collapse behind her but didn't look back as she sprinted to the door_.  "Outside!"_  She slammed the door shut behind herself and reset the locking charm.  Only then did she look through the reinforced window of the door to see what had happened.

A cloud of grey dust hung in the air and slowly settled over the debris newly choking the corridor.  "Please be all right," Lily begged as she looked for the werewolf.  Although chalky grey dust obscured the difference between grey fur and broken fragments of wall, Lily quickly spotted the still form amidst the rubble.  "I'm so sorry.  I just wanted to slow you down.  Please be all right."  But the wolf did not move.

_"James or Sirius could go in,"_ she thought as she looked at her watch, _"but the moon might set before I can get back here with one of them.  Would it be faster if I just waited for moonset and went in?  No, the werewolves might be all over the building.  I'm going to need help."_  Lily focused her mind on Remus's home and disapparated.

* * * * *

It had been a long night for the two animagi.  The wolf had been restless and confused by his confinement.  He associated the presence of his packmates with running free under the moon and stars and could not fully understand why he was trapped if they were with him.  Padfoot had spent much of the night with his snout pressed between the bars of the small window, calling to his packmate with sharp barks and whimpers, trying to keep Moony focused on his presence rather than on the walls confining him.  Moony would leap up and greet him with licks, but then drop to the floor again and begin pacing until he became anxious enough to ram his shoulder against the walls or scratch at them until his paws bled.  Whenever Padfoot could no longer bear the ache in his back from standing upon his hind legs, he would drop to the ground with a sad whimper and allow Prongs to take his place at the window.  The window was the perfect height for the stag, and he could easily have stood there all night.  However, his presence did not seem to comfort the wolf as well as the dog's.  And so, when Moony began to throw himself against the walls in frenzy again, Padfoot would nudge the stag out of the way and try to regain the attention of his fellow canine.

The moon had already disappeared behind the trees west of the Lupin cottage when Padfoot dropped to four paws for what he believed would be the last time of the evening.  True moonset was fast approaching.  He lay down on the blanket in which he planned to wrap Remus as soon as it was safe to enter the shed.  _"Wrap him up, bring him inside, heal his poor bloody paws—he isn't putting any weight on his right forepaw anymore—heal another dislocated shoulder, and then we can all sleep." _

He heard a soft "pop," a slight displacement of air, and lifted his head from its place between his forepaws to look behind him.  Lily stood near the backdoor of the cottage, pale and frightened.  He trotted over to her without delay but was beaten there by Prongs.  James was human the moment he reached her side, but Padfoot remained canine, ready to run back to the shed should the wolf realize humans were near and go into a rage.  He raised his nose into the air and was pleased that they were downwind of the shed.

"What's wrong?" James asked as he put one arm around her shoulders and placed the other hand on the gentle curve of her belly.

"The werewolves are loose at Greystone—"  James stiffened. "—inside, at least I think they're all still inside, but loose inside the building, and they might be all over the building.  I hurt one very badly, and I may have killed him, and I don't know.  And I don't know if Simon and Charlotte are safe, and—"

"Come as soon as you can leave Remus," James said to Padfoot, and he disapparated.  Lily took one shuddering gasp and disapparated as well.

Sirius wondered for a moment if he should have gone with James and left Lily here to take care of Remus.  Moonset was imminent, and she was now as experienced as he in tending to a werewolf's injuries.  However, since moonrise was imminent, his animagus ability would not be needed at Greystone for very long.  Lily knew the building better than he, and she knew the people there.  

He trotted back to the shed and leapt up, catching hold of the window with his claws and peering in.  Moony was finally exhausted and had curled up into a ball to sleep.  Only his eyes and ears were still alert, and his eyes reflected the starlight as he looked at his friend.  _"Sorry, Moony, you can't sleep yet,"_ Sirius thought sadly, for he knew what was about to happen even if the wolf did not.  The grey fur rippled as the first shudder ran through the wolf's body.    The wolf whimpered in fear or in pain as the change came upon him.  Padfoot dropped to the ground, not because he could not bear to watch—he would bear anything if it would help— but because he knew that Remus preferred that he did not watch.

* * * * *

James shifted back into a stag as Lily released the charm locking the door.  "I didn't mean to hurt him," she explained. "I was running for the door, and I hoped the wall coming down would slow him down." Her fear of having killed another manifested itself as a barely controlled note of panic in her voice.  "Just look back at me _if_ he's still alive—so I'll know—and then you can go on deeper into the building." She opened the door a crack but paused before opening it wide enough to admit her husband,  "Please be careful, James.  I know Remus never attacks you, but—"  He nuzzled her cheek with his velvety nose in order to reassure her that he would be careful.  

Lily pulled the door open, and he stepped inside.  His nose was instantly assaulted by many scents, but foremost amongst them were the chalky scent of the dust still hanging in the air and the sharp tang of blood.  The wolf lay very still, and for a moment, James feared that he would not be able to look back at Lily and reassure her that she had not taken a life.  He lowered his head to the still form and heard the sound of labored and unsteady breathing.  He looked back at Lily and saw her smile in relief.  Even if James were human at that moment, he would not have smiled back.  The werewolf's breathing sounded labored and wet.  He was alive, but James was not sure he would survive the combination of his internal injuries and the metamorphosis that was imminent.  

There were others he needed to check on.  He could do nothing to help the werewolves until moonset, so he headed for the stairs to see if by some miracle, Charlotte and Simon had survived the night.  At the first major intersection of corridors, he came face to face with two wolves.  The larger one, in the lead, had white and cinnamon brown fur; his companion was more grey.  Both growled deep in their throats.   Although only human prey drove werewolves into an enraged frenzy, they could, and would, attack prey animals if hungry enough.  As the two wolves split apart and tried to flank him, James knew that they were finding the idea of venison for breakfast very appealing.   He backed away from them, pawing the ground with a sharp hoof and lowering his antlers menacingly_.  "I can hurt you; I'm not worth it," _he tried to convey.  The smaller wolf suddenly whimpered, and a moment later, the larger one shuddered.  James realized that he would not need to put his fighting experience to the test.  Moonset.

* * * * *

Peter had not slept well.  The knowledge of what he might need to do in Hogsmeade kept him worried and restless.  He didn't want to kill anyone, and he didn't want to get caught killing anyone.  He also knew it was necessary.  If one or more of the werewolves were captured, they would undoubtedly implicate the wizards who had brought them to Hogsmeade.  The fact that they did not know his name was not enough; they knew his face.

He dressed quietly and let himself out the backdoor of his house.  He did not want to wake his mother and destroy his alibi.  He checked his watch again.  Local moonset had just passed, but Hogsmeade was slightly farther west.  He waited another minute and a half for Hogsmeade's moonset and disapparated.

Something soft squished underfoot, and Peter jumped back in alarm, afraid that he had apparated atop some small helpless animal, but it was just one of the robes discarded by the werewolves.  He looked about and saw the broomstick, the portkey, where it had been left the evening before.  _"So far, so good,"_ Peter thought.  _"Now let's just hope all of the werewolves make it back before it activates."_

The first two back, the Muggle woman and the fairest-haired man, kept Peter waiting only a few minutes.  They were disheveled and muddy, but not bloody or injured.  Judging by their appearance, Peter would not have been surprised to see them come out of the Forbidden Forest rather than Hogsmeade.  They reminded him of the way Remus and Sirius looked after a night of play-fighting.  They pulled on their robes and sat on the ground beside the broomstick, holding on tightly even though Peter assured them that they still had time until it activated.  

Another agonizing six minutes passed before another returned—the werewolf who had tried to intimidate Peter the night before.  He headed for a robe, but Peter picked it up and threw it at him.  "The portkey is about to activate.  Go touch it.  You can dress after you get back."  The Muggle glared at Peter but did as he was told.  One side of his face and throat were bloody from a cut over his eye.  As he sat on the ground, holding the broomstick with one hand and holding the robe in his lap with the other, Peter noted that the werewolf's hands and feet were bloody as well.  Suddenly Peter wasn't sure that all of the blood on his face and throat was his own.  Then the werewolves were gone.  Two Muggle werewolves were still in Hogsmeade.

* * * * *

"Are you O.K. to walk, Moony?" Sirius asked as he draped the soft blanket around the shoulders of his friend.

Remus nodded wearily and allowed Sirius to slip a hand under the elbow of his uninjured arm.  Sirius helped Remus to his feet and stepped back to allow Remus to leave the shed first.  He fell into step beside him again, and they walked in companionable silence to the cottage.

"I think you dislocated your shoulder again," Sirius said as they entered the downstairs bedroom.  Remus nodded again and sat on the edge of the bed.  Sirius handed him a potion that would lessen the pain.  "You'd better hold onto the headboard," Sirius instructed.  The headboard was a wooden panel flanked on either side by turned posts.  Without James there to hold onto Remus and provide resistance, Remus would need to hold a post and keep himself still while Sirius popped the shoulder back into place.

"Where's James?"  Remus asked in a hoarse voice, noticing for the first time that they were alone.

"With Lily," Sirius said lightly.  "He left just a few minutes ago."

"What's wrong?  Is the baby alright?"

"The baby's fine.  Lily's fine.  She just needed his help with something, that's all."  Sirius didn't want to tell Remus about Greystone until he had more information, and he preferred to tell Remus after he got some sleep.  Worrying about the people he knew at Greystone would not be conducive to rest. "Go hold onto the post and let's get your shoulder back where it should be."

If there was a charm to accomplish what Sirius now had to do manually, he did not know it.  Remus seemed content that Sirius knew how to do this the Muggle way, and that he knew the healing charm that would strengthen and repair the injured tendons of shoulder afterward.  Sirius concentrated on pulling and twisting Remus's arm and tried to ignore the fact that Remus was undoubtedly in great pain as he did it.  Remus uttered not a sound; he merely clenched his teeth and closed his eyes.  When it was done, a slight sigh of relief and the sheen of sweat on his brow were the only hints that he had been in pain.

"I'll get some water and clean up your hands," Sirius said.  "One of these days you'll learn that when it comes to claws versus steel, steel wins."

"No, I won't," Remus said quietly.

* * * * *

Multiple sets of bloody pawprints led down the stairs.  James ran up the stairs two at a time.  He was afraid not only for Charlotte and Simon, but for the werewolves who would be blamed.  He threw open the double doors and almost collided with Charlotte on her way out.

"James!  What are—is Lily alright?  Simon and I were so worried about her this morning, but we couldn't think of a way to warn her away."  As she spoke, James's gaze had fallen upon the remains of a mangled corpse on the floor.  Very little remained; the wolves had done a thorough job of devouring him.  James had feared that it was Simon, but at Charlotte's mention of her assistant's name, James looked up and saw him at the end of the corridor unlocking cells to check on the occupants.

"Lily's fine," James assured Charlotte, and he glanced at the corpse again.  "Who was that?"

"His name was Leslie Ellard.  He's the one who set some of our clients loose last night, quite against their wills, and you see the result.  They were furious with him; he didn't stand a chance.  He transformed back when he died and—as you see."

The words "transformed back" registered in James's mind even through the shock of seeing the remains of the bloody feast.  "He was a werewolf, then," he said more to himself than to Charlotte.  It would make all the difference in the eyes of the law; it was not a crime to kill a werewolf during the full moon.  The same law that often caused the deaths of werewolves would now excuse them for committing this act.   _"Lily'll be protected by that law too."_  James recalled his priorities at that thought. "We have an emergency downstairs, Charlotte.  Lily came in before moonset, and she injured one of the werewolves quite badly while getting away from him."

"Oh, the poor dears."  Charlotte opened the large lower drawer of her desk and removed her basket of bandages and potions.  "Where?"

"Near the front door."  James planned to go with her, but Simon and the people with him caught his attention.   Simon was supporting a man about thirty years old, bloody and limping, as he made his way to the body.  Other men and women, in varied states of undress and with various injuries, all clustered around them.  They each reached out and touched the man with Simon, silently offering comfort.  James felt like an intruder and hurried after Charlotte.

* * * * *

Peter pulled up the hood of his tweed cloak before heading into the village.  The fewer people who caught a glimpse of his face this morning, the better.  He felt momentary panic when he realized that he had never taken a good look at the two werewolves who were now missing.  _"What did they look like?" _he wondered, but then realized, _"Don't be an idiot, Peter.  They'll be naked and probably bloody.  You won't be able to miss them.  Now you just have to find them before someone else does.  Damn them for not making it back to the portkey!  I don't want to have hurt anyone.  Maybe I can hide them in the forest and make another portkey."_

            He made his way quickly through the outskirts of the village and toward the raised voices in the vicinity of the main street.  A handful of people stood clustered around something on the ground.  Peter kept to the narrow space between two buildings as he moved in for a closer look.  A body, naked and bloody, lay at their feet.  _"There's one,"_ Peter thought.  _"Dead or unconscious?"_

"Don't we need to cremate him or something, Professor?" a man in the crowd asked.

            "No, that's vampires."  The man who spoke had his back to Peter, but his voice was that of Professor Grianan, Hogwart's Defence Against the Dark Arts professor.  "Don't worry, he's quite dead.  You can cremate him if it'll make you feel better, but you'd better wait until Werewolf Control identifies him." 

            "Here's another!" someone shouted.  Two people came into view, pulling a rope tied to the ankles of a body they dragged behind them.  The helpless way his arms dragged behind him and the way his head bounced around on the bumpy dirt road demonstrated that he too was quite dead.  Peter felt sick.  He apparated home.  

* * * * *

"Sleep well, Moony," Sirius said as he pulled the bedroom door closed.  He had decided against telling Remus that he was leaving.  To do so would only lead to questions that he did not want to answer.  With any luck, he could be back before Remus even woke up. He hurried into the kitchen and grabbed a pear out of a bowl on the counter before going outside to apparate.  Being awake all night had left him quite hungry, but he was in a hurry and this would have to suffice for breakfast.  

Lily had taught him where Greystone was, but this morning was the first time that he had actually had a reason to go there.  His apparition point was near the building, but not near a door.  He ran beside the outer wall searching for a way in.  He was too close to the building to get a good look at it as a whole, but the rough grey granite walls and the contrasting smooth white limestone around the windows indicated that this building had been built to impress.  At least it was meant to impress those outside.  The moment he stepped inside, Sirius felt sick at heart.  He remembered that Remus said the Ministry started using this building for werewolves when, "It was no longer fit for human habitation."

_"This place is a ruddy maze.  'Upstairs,' Lily said, but where are the stairs?"_  "HELLO!  Can anyone hear me?"  Sirius wandered for a few minutes before hearing voices and following the sound to the stairs.  He climbed up to the first floor where he saw people in ones and twos, the less injured assisting those more injured, making their way from the first floor up to the second.  They looked at Sirius warily, and he blessed whatever gods were listening that he had worn Muggle clothing to Remus's home. "Excuse me, but I need to see Lily or Charlotte," he said to the group at large.  "Do you know where they are?"

"Charlotte's in there," one man said as he gestured behind himself at the double doors of the first floor.

"I haven't seen Lily this morning," another said.

"Thank you," Sirius said as he went in search of Charlotte.  A blanket lay over an irregular shape on the floor, and bloody pawprints were all around the blanket.  Sirius found Charlotte in one of the cells tending to a woman with severely bitten legs.  "Charlotte, what can I do to help?"

She glanced over her shoulder at him.  "Oh, Sirius.  Um—for now, just help me get everyone upstairs.  Then I'll fill you in on what happened."

"Of course.  Could I just ask, where are Lily and James?"

"One of our clients was badly injured and had to go hospital.  Lily wanted to go with him because—"  She allowed her voice to trail off, perhaps not wishing to say in front of one werewolf that Lily had injured another.

The job of tending to the injured was greatly alleviated by the presence of five Muggle assistants.  Sirius would later learn that these were the werewolves who had spent the night running free in the building.  The unaccustomed freedom had agreed with them, and none of the five had self-inflicted injuries.  Once they realized that Sirius was, despite his clothing, a wizard, he was called upon to perform various healing charms.  His experience in tending to Remus's injuries proved very useful..It was only when the job of tending to the injured was accomplished that Charlotte beckoned Sirius to follow her back down the stairs.  She paused beside a man sitting alone beside a window.  "Gavin, you'd better come with us too."

They went down two flights and Charlotte led the way to a room filled with tables and chairs.  The table nearest the window was a bit less dusty than the others, probably because Charlotte used it periodically, and Charlotte led the two men to it.  Gavin kept his eyes downcast.

"Sirius, this is Gavin Ellard.  Gavin's brother, Leslie, is the man who died upstairs."

"Oh, I'm so sorry Mr. Ellard."

Gavin merely nodded.

"Gavin is a werewolf, as was his brother, and they are from a wizard family."  Sirius would have guessed as much from Gavin's clothing, but Charlotte seemed to want to give Sirius all the necessary background information.  "Gavin, Sirius has a friend who is a werewolf, and he's very fair.  He's also an auror."  At this, Gavin closed his eyes, dropped his head lower, and hunched his shoulders as if trying to disappear into himself.  "Please tell Sirius what happened."

Gavin took a shaky breath and opened his eyes. "Leslie did it.  He started setting us free just before moonset.  I knew he was going to, but—I should have warned you, Charlotte.  I'm so sorry."

"Why didn't you?" she asked calmly.

"I'm a coward."

"You were afraid of Leslie?" she asked.

"Of his new friends, and of Leslie too."  He looked up at Sirius.  "I can't prove it, but I believe Leslie's new friends are Death Eaters.  Leslie said that I wasn't of much use to them, being a squib, and that my only possible value to them was when I was a wolf.  He said that being able to identify them and being 'of no value' was a fatal combination."

"You can identify them?" Sirius asked.

He nodded.  "I never heard any names, but I got a good look at the faces of two of them.  One of them, I see his picture in the society section of _The Daily Prophet_ sometimes, David Sidle."

"You'll need to come down to our offices and give a more detailed statement.  I won't lie to you, Mr. Ellard.  You may face some charges as an accomplice.  You did know what your brother planned, and you did not try to prevent it.  Non-action is not a crime," _—"although I'd like it to be"—_ "but we both know that the law isn't always applied equally to werewolves."

"Simon and I will give statements as well and testify that you did NOT assist Leslie in any way," Charlotte assured Gavin.    

"But the greater danger will be from the Death Eaters," Sirius continued.  "They won't want you to tell what you know.  The sooner we get you in protected custody, the better."

* * * * *

            "Sirius?"  Remus leaned against the bedroom doorframe and yawned.  "Siri? Are you here?"  No answer.  _"Either he's sound asleep in my old room upstairs, or he had to go to work."  _Remus reached up to scratch his scalp as he headed for the kitchen, but the bandages on some of his fingers interfered.  "Idiot," he scolded himself.  He hoped that Sirius was asleep upstairs.  He knew that Sirius had planned to stay today and had taken the day off from work.  But when one was an auror, one was always "on call."  If Sirius wasn't here, the most probable reason was, _"Nothing good."_

            Remus didn't quite feel up to even the most basic of magic this morning.  He lit the stove with a match and filled the kettle to brew tea.  The breadbox yielded a treasure of three rolls leftover from dinner.  He ate one as he went outside to look for the latest issue of _The Daily Prophet_.  Remus had made due without a subscription for his first month of living alone—why buy it when he could always find copies left lying around in places like the Leaky Cauldron?—but one of his friends, he didn't know which, had paid for a subscription.  _"Probably James.  Got sick of me reading his when I'd come over for dinner."_  Today's lay just beneath the kitchen window; the owl must have dropped it there when he couldn't get in the window.

            The paper was rolled tightly and tied with a string to facilitate delivery by owl.  Oversize type was trying to scream the lead headline.  Remus pawed at the string, trying to pull it off and cursing at his bandaged fingers.  One last tug and **"WEREWOLVES TERRORIZE HOGSMEADE AND HOGWARTS:  Courageous Citizens Fight Off Bloodthirsty Beasts."**

"Shit."

Author's Note to my fellow Americans:  I've identified the floors of Greystone U.K. style, i.e. the floor above the ground floor is called the first floor.  (In the U.S.A., first floor and ground floor are synonymous.) 


End file.

Harry Potter, Angst, Drama