A Season of Change

Chapter 8

Dark cherry paneling lined the walls of the antechamber and freshly waxed floorboards shone in the twilight rays. Twelve velvet cushioned chairs surrounded a long mahogany table. Alone in the room and seated at the head of the table was a stooped figure, his occasional scratching of quill against parchment the only sound breaking the heavy stillness of the room. Dusty tomes piled ten high covered the table, and a large number of scrolls in various states of disarray lay scatted about. Slowly the black antique hands of the grandfather clock turned, clicking off precious minutes and marking the pace at which the young man worked.

Yawning loudly, Harry raised his arms back over his head and gave into a long blissful stretch. Shaking his head, he settled back in his chair and picked up his quill. He was mentally exhausted by the heavy workload and wished desperately that he could owl his friends. Their letters would at least help to break the monotony of the current working conditions. Harry turned his head slightly and gazed out the window, his eyelids drooping slightly.

The Ministry´s Auror Division had established headquarters in the capital of Croatia, Zagreb. For the last two weeks, Harry dedicated his days to drawing up plans for dispatching teams to isolated communities suspected of concealing Voldemort´s remaining Eastern European cells. One city, Rijeka, located on the coast of the Adriatic Sea, was proving to be cause for particular concern. According to the files the Croatian Ministry of Magic were able to provide, Rijeka was well know for its high werewolf population. Isolation wards had been set up around the city during the peak of the war--an ineffective attempt to curb the sudden onset of werewolf spawning cast into motion by empty promises made by Voldemort´s supporters. As such, Rijeka had a higher per capita of werewolves than any other city in Europe and many were in a murderous retaliatory mood due to unfulfilled pledges of lycanthropy advances.

Harry sighed and ran an agitated hand through his hair, oblivious to the quill which left a rather large streak on his left cheek. He was sorely tempted to break Ministry protocol and contact Remus for help. The werewolves were quickly becoming out of control as more and more were joining the faction of dark side supporters. The general mindset pulsating in the area was that if the Dark Lord had promised a cure for lycanthropy than it must exist somewhere--and more importantly, someone was hiding it. The Croatian Ministry was quick to realize that the state of werewolf affairs was in shambles. People were fleeing Rijeka afraid for their lives, and as raging fury knifed through their minds, the werewolves no longer exercised restraint during the full moon.

Standing, Harry walked to the window and slowly pushed it open. He felt the incredible weight of loneliness settle over his heart, and for a moment, werewolves ceased to matter as faces floated before him: Ron chortling as he swept cleanly between trees on his own Firebolt, the product of his first paycheck as an adult working wizard; Hermione in her trademark crimson Ministry robes snapping orders at the underlings scurrying about to find the latest requested report--and the very same Hermione smiling secretly as she gave them top marks on their evaluations; Elizabeth obliviously drooling on his face, her eyes crinkling in pleasure; Remus and Sirius baiting each other over the kitchen table, fingers entwined as was discovered when he was leaning down to pick up his fallen napkin; and Ginny... Harry´s face broke into the first genuinely happy smile the room had seen in over two weeks. Ginny´s chocolate brown eyes twinkled up at him, a ray of sunlight caught in her irises making them shine with even greater brilliance. And those lips, he smiled the grin of an irrepressible teenager.

Such was the life of an Auror. Attention to duty and a constant stream of adjustments were of the norm and not to be trifled with. Rule Number One in the Auror manual clearly stated that no personal connections could be made while on assignment. He turned away with bleak eyes from his memories and focused again on the matter at hand. Harry knew this assignment was far from completed--in fact, the Chief Auror had just announced at the general meeting this morning that all team members should expect the assignment to last until the end of November. Solitude was fast losing its appeal.

Groaning, he sat down again and picked up his quill, willing his fingers to write. A sudden burst of wind from the open window rustled the sheets of parchment on the table, knocking several to the floor. With a deep sigh, Harry bent down and picked up the fallen pieces. The impatient hooting of an owl jerked him upright.

"Hedwig?" his eyes widened with disbelief at the teetering bird. "How did you get here?" Absolute amazement jolted him. He knew the Division never disclosed their whereabouts as a precautionary measure, but somehow Hedwig had discovered their location. And yet...Harry´s heart slammed painfully in his chest. "Damn..." he whispered, and his hands instantly stilled. Two weeks ago Thudmarket had received an owl post bearing the news of his daughter´s death--the only excuse permissible by the Division. He searched the recesses of his mind for anything resembling a prayer but could only recall words picked up from Muggle television and snippets from the long litanies Irish-Catholic Seamus would say nightly. How did that one go? Hail Mary Mother of God...Mother of God... Pray Jesus...

"Harry Potter" was printed in very careful block letters across the front.

Harry´s pulse pounded painfully in his temples, and his throat was unbearably dry as he tried to swallow. He knew that the sensation of not knowing was worse than any news imaginable, and yet... shaking, he cracked the seal. With trepidation he began to read the printed words, his expression quickly changing from one of fear to puzzled relief to livid fury. The sound of shattering glass echoed in the room. Tactfulness forsooth; he craved revenge--burned with the sickness of absolute hatred. But first he wanted to wring Percy Weasley´s neck for giving him the scare of his life. And then he would stand next to his godfather and look bloody Lancaster and Macnair straight in the eye and say... Harry quickly scratched a reply, and muttering a soft apology to Hedwig for not having any food, sent her out the window.

With newfound energy, Harry began to feverishly re-open the books he had diligently gone through in the hope that he might find something--anything--promising that would help the man who had become like a father to him. Maybe these Croatian werewolves will prove to be useful after all...

**********

Remus rolled to his side and propped his head upon his arm. His lips spread into an exasperated smile as he handed Elizabeth yet another plastic block that had recently met its demise from the long fall to the floor. Color was slowly coming back to his face, but the hollows in his cheeks had yet to fill. Transformations drained his energy for several days, and yet the pragmatic side of him was willing to admit that all the recent emotional strain was mostly to blame for the slow healing process. Unrealistic goals of bounding straight up from bed had long since been discarded.

Sirius and Remus´ bed had quickly become Elizabeth´s favorite play place. She loved the wide expanse of softness, perfect for preventing any serious pain during the willful baby´s haphazard scooting expeditions. At the present however, dressed in a pale yellow cotton dress with a small sleeping black dog on her chest, she focused all her attention on the structure in front of her. Remus watched with the eyes of a proud father as she successfully placed yet another block in perfect position, not a single item teetering. Warmth crept up his body as he resisted the overpowering urge to sweep her up in his strong arms and hug her--a gesture he knew she would not appreciate at the moment. A tantrum such as the likes of yesterdays was not something he wished to provoke. Whoever said the wail of the banshee´s was tantamount to death for a human had clearly not been privy to the powerful shrieks of a six-month old baby. Remus was still recovering from his migraine. Smiling regretfully, he kept his arms at his side and continued to monitor her progress with a big goofy grin on his handsome face.

"Lizzie," he said with a laugh, "you are developing a very independent streak, did you know that?" His daughter turned a deaf ear to her daddy and continued to align the blocks. Chortling, he shook his head in apology as she glanced at him in annoyance, the bed jiggling with his chuckles. Elizabeth certainly likes to dictate when and how affection is displayed! He thought in amusement. She´s definitely more restrained than either Sirius or me.

"That´s the first time I´ve heard you laugh all day, Moony." Sirius came to stand next to bed, his wool outer robes draped over an arm. "Hello, sweetheart," he said, ruffling Elizabeth´s soft hair. "Ah... she´s ignoring us again, eh Moony?"

"Of course she is, Padfoot. It has been known to have happened before where people can resist our charms."

Sirius snorted as he pulled on his robes. He pressed a quick kiss on his daughter´s shiny hair and walked around the bed to the other side. Remus rolled over slightly and faced his lover, a tender smile gracing his tired features.

"Going, love?" he asked, his hands reaching up to close the robe´s fastener, a little gesture Sirius loved.

"I´ll only be gone a few hours. Charlie and Hermione are meeting me at the Leaky Cauldron to go over background information on Lancaster." Sirius spat out the woman´s name and grimaced as if the word itself was poison.

Remus sighed with discontent and propped himself against the headboard. "I hate that I have to stay here when I should be the one strategizing and--"

"Moony, you know the MediWizard and Molly both ordered you to stay in bed until you´re stronger. I promise to record everything that is discussed," Sirius interrupted quickly before Remus had time to launch into another tirade about the unfairness of the situation. Waving a long white quill in front of Remus´ dark face, he smiled beguiling, "Look here, Moony, see what Ginny gave me. It´s one of those magical recording devices cleverly disguised in this `top-of-the-line quill constructed from the finest Brazilian-farmed phoenix and guaranteed to note both written and spoken word.´" He finished in his best advertisement campaign voice, noting with boyish pleasure the reluctant smile spreading across Remus´ face as he straightened himself from his exaggerated stage bow.

Pulling a face, Remus crossed his eyes at his lover and spanked him playfully. "I´m definitely feeling better, silly boy. After all the Pepper-Up Molly´s been feeding me there had better be some results!"

Sirius let out a hoot. "You´re on bottle three, Remy. I´m just counting on something else steaming once you feel better."

Remus blushed. Nodding towards Elizabeth, he lowered his voice slightly, "You know Paddy, she´s going to start talking to us soon and I don´t want her first sentences to be laced with sexual innuendos."

Planting a quick hard kiss on Remus´ upturned mouth, Sirius affectionately stroked the silver-streaked hair once before tuning and walking to the door. "Moony, try to rest, will you? We need you in top form, and I don´t want to ever see you like that again," he called over his shoulder, his voice heavy with meaning. Remus nodded. "All right then, good. I love you."

Remus prodded Elizabeth. "Lizzie, wave goodbye to Daddy."

Elizabeth finally looked up, the word "goodbye" registering in her mind. Remus picked up one of her small hands and shook it slightly. Giggling, Elizabeth lifted her other hand and waved furiously.

"We love you," Remus called out before the other man apparated. Smiling, he felt his daughter tug impatiently at the hand he still held, and he quickly let go. "All right, it´s just you and me, Lizzie. Let´s try to keep it together, shall we?"

**********

The Leaky Cauldron swarmed with the lunch crowd. Curls of blue cigar smoke drifted slowly across the overheated room, and Charlie tugged at his collar with irritation. Over the general din he leaned in towards Hermione and cupped his hand around her ear.

"Does Sirius know to meet us here?" he yelled.

Hermione squealed. "Charlie! Gads that was loud."

Charlie grinned. "Sorry." His eyes scanned the room for the tall wizard. "There he is. Sirius! Oi! Over here!" Charlie and Hermione pushed their way through the throng of people, their eyes fixed on the curly black hair rising easily over the rest of the crowd.

Sirius turned at the sound of Charlie´s voice. His tall frame provided a clear aerial view of the room, and he smiled at the sight of the muscular red-haired wizard pulling along the only witch dressed in bright red among a sea of traditional black work robes. "Hallo! Charlie, Hermione. C´mon over here. I´ve got Tom to give us a private room in the back."

"Thank god. I think I am losing my hearing. Why do these wizards find the need to converse at the top of their lungs?" Hermione poked Charlie in the ribs as they followed Sirius past the bar and through a small archway. "Ah... silence."

Charlie´s eyes adjusted to the dim lighting in the small room. Coughing, he strolled over to a stack of mismatched chairs and pulled three of them up to the solitary table standing in the center of the room. Hermione issued a quick dusting repelling charm before removing rolls of parchment and leather bound books from her satchel.

Standing in the doorway, his back to the room, Sirius conversed with Tom, the old bartender, in hushed voices. Nodding once, he turned and walked to the table, a grim expression on his face. "Bit dusty in here, eh Hermione?" Dragging his chair closer to the table, he leaned forward and tapped the recording quill on before propping his elbows on the rough surface. "Remus would have a fit if he were here," he declared looking about at what Tom called his private quarters for the more distinguished guest. "You´d think he has some personal vendetta against dust."

Hermione smiled. "Remus is definitely the most fastidious person I have ever met when it comes to cleaning." Pulling open a fractured leather ledger, she frowned at the tiny flowing script. "Sirius, Percy requested this from the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures´ Werewolf Registry archives and it´s a documentation of every werewolf that has had parenting rights at one time or another. Look," she pointed to a long column of dates on the crackling yellowed paper. "The first recorded date was 1723 and for awhile it appears that werewolves were becoming parents quite regularly. Hmm...In 1745 alone there were fifty-six documented cases of werewolf parents."

Sirius´ brow furrowed as he scanned the numbers carefully.

"So, we assumed that this anti-parenting sentiment concerning werewolves is a relatively new phenomenon?" Charlie glanced quickly at the past half century noting the scarcity of names.

Hermione shook her head. "I don´t it is wise to make any assumptions. We don´t know the circumstances surrounding these numbers--I mean it could be that these are simply the number of werewolves that parented children--it doesn´t necessarily have anything to do with whether or not they were able to raise their children."

"But the Department has strict guidelines about werewolves partaking in sexual relations, don´t they?" Sirius glanced up quickly at Charlie´s question.

"Yes and no." Hermione reached for a yellowed roll of parchment, ignoring the unhappy look on Sirius´ face. Unrolling it gently, she began to read in a low voice.

"Notice from the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures´ Werewolf Registry, January 1, 1900, Charles Culpepper, Head of Division. It has been ruled in Section 1521 Code A that the mating of werewolves for procreative measures is hereby forbidden. While it has yet to be determined whether lycanthropy can be passed through the blood-line--"" Hermione looked up in disgust. "Did you know this is the most current ruling to date? Robert Culpepper certainly hasn´t stepped up to bat, has he?"

"They have proven that lycanthropy is transmitted only though the bite--right?" Sirius protested indignantly. Hermione shrugged. "Well, besides, these fools are clearly overlooking the obvious. None of the children turned out as werewolves."

"Well, it´s obvious that Robert is trying not to step on his father´s toes. Percy´s always complaining about dead weight at the Ministry, and this Culpepper fellow seems pretty useless if you ask me," Charlie snorted.

Hermione continued in an annoyed tone. "Werewolves are not prohibited from marrying--hence by the very nature of what constitutes marriage, I think it is safe to assume that this is a loophole that allows them to engage in sexual relations."

"So you´re safe," Charlie nudged Sirius.

Glancing briefly at Sirius, Hermione laid down the parchment and stared at the remaining legal jargon. "It´s very difficult to decipher what exactly Section 1521 spells out. I keep getting contradictions from reading this--werewolves can mate, they cannot, however, procreate, and yet the Registry up until the last 15 years or so hasn´t placed any restrictive clauses on werewolf parents. Why the sudden change?" she wondered.

"And," Sirius pointed out, "the causes of deaths are stated here clearly and none of the werewolves were executed with the exception of the Bristol werewolf. The rest of them either died of natural causes or are still living."

Hermione bit her lip in frustration. "Does it say, Sirius, if these children are natural born or wards?"

Sirius scanned the ledger. "The majority are natural born. The Bristol werewolf was the only guardian in the past one hundred years."

"So the Ministry is clearly overlooking Section 1521 if these werewolves are parenting their own young. How many werewolf parents are there to date?"

A long pause ensued as Sirius counted the numbers carefully. Frowning, he quickly double checked his work. "As of this year, Remus is the only current name noted. The rest of the children are grown up and are no longer considered to be under custodial care."

Hermione scratched the back of her neck absently. "I wonder if there is anything in this one that states when Margaret Lancaster began at the Infant Wizard Protection Agency." Handing Sirius a slim book, she resumed analyzing Section 1521. "Why can´t barristers ever write anything in clear terms? Why all this convoluted nonsense?" she complained, forgetting about her own very detailed and complex work that often prompted her co-workers to roll their eyes in frustration.

Charlie paused in his task of unrolling another of Hermione´s scrolls. Augustine had owled him early this morning with the news that the dragon hatching had gone off without a hitch. Relieved that Whitney was finally able to handle a task levelheadedly, Charlie felt a bit generous in his opinion of the young man.

"You know, I just remembered that my partner, Howard Whitney, studied to be a barrister before becoming a dragon keeper. I can ask him if he recalls studying about the Bristol case. He would have been at university during the trial."

"Whitney... why does that sound familiar?" Hermione mulled over the name for a moment.

"Have you heard from Percy?" Sirius tapped the quill impatiently as a tiny spark fizzled from the tip of the feather.

Charlie nodded. "Percy said he managed to use the authority of the Department of International Magical Cooperation to get word to Harry. You know, Sirius, how prickly the Auror Division is about concealing its whereabouts. I suppose that´s the advantage of having your younger brother as head of the Department--even if he is a bit of a pompous ass."

Sirius smiled grimly. Percy is indeed that, but he´s also proving to be invaluable for Remus´ case. He was willing to overlook Percy´s less admirable qualities in exchange for Remus´ happiness.

A throat cleared from the doorway. Tom walked into the room carrying a tray of butterbeers and three corned beef sandwiches. Clapping his hands delightedly, Sirius began devouring his sandwich with gusto. "Moony never piles on enough meet," he said between hungry mouthfuls.

Charlie and Hermione each eyed their sandwiches askance. Charlie had never been overly fond of this particular type as his mum had served them without fail at the start of each Hogwarts´ journey. Hermione, on the other hand, didn´t eat too much meat in general. Shrugging lightly under Sirius´ curious stare, she picked up her sandwich and took a healthy bite.

"Umm... delicious," she choked, trying desperately to chew the salty meat.

Grinning, Charlie decided to be a sport as well. "What the hell," he muttered before taking a bite large enough to rival Sirius´.

Within minutes the men´s plates stood empty. Hermione struggled to finish her own meal. Noting her slow progress, Sirius leaned forward and gently touched her hand. "You don´t have to finish that for my sake, Hermione." His blue eyes twinkled merrily. Sighing in relief, she placed the offending sandwich back on her plate. Quick as a flash, Sirius picked it up and began to eat.

"Too late, Charlie-boy," he said contentedly, patting his full stomach.

"Aw, damn it..." Charlie winked conspiringly at Hermione who shot him a mocking glance of sympathy.

With a sigh of discouragement, Hermione bent over her scroll and flattened it out impatiently, a corner tearing slightly in the process. Sirius cocked an eyebrow in her direction, which she pointedly ignored. "Let´s keep searching. It´s getting late and we haven´t gotten very far." Looking up, she stared at the two men in front of her. Despite the seriousness of the situation, she couldn´t help feeling somewhat amused at the position she found herself in.

Charlie grinned at her expression. "What´s funny?"

"Oh nothing. I was just thinking how much this reminds me of trying to study with Ron and Harry--and if I sort of squint my eyes I can imagine you two to be much older versions of them," she teased.

"Hey," Sirius protested. "I take offense to the age comment!"

Charlie laughed. "Well, we were warned, Sirius. Ron did caution us as to what we were getting ourselves into working with this one!"

**********

The persistent ringing of the front door bell jarred Remus awake. Sitting up awkwardly, Elizabeth nestled in the crook of his arm, he fumbled for his wand.

"Lumos," he whispered not caring to wake Elizabeth who was still sleeping soundly, a corner of the sheet in her mouth. Soft light floated from the end of his wand and he looked out the window with bleary eyes. The afternoon sunlight was quickly fading, hues of rose, lavender, and periwinkle filling the twilight sky. Frowning, he consulted the clock on the mantle and was startled to realize it was nearly six in the evening.

Crawling carefully out of bed, he gently scooted Elizabeth to the center and raised a quick barrier around the edges. Satisfied that she would be safe should she awaken, he crept silently out of the room and down the dark front stairs.

"I´m coming, I´m coming..." he muttered, slightly annoyed at the audacity of the ringer. He quickly lit the lamps in the foyer and opened the front door. A frigid blast of air whirled into the hall, and he quickly stepped onto to the porch closing the door behind him.

The cool evening air sent goose bumps to his skin. Glancing swiftly to his left he noticed a hunched figure sitting on the old porch swing. Never had he seen such a ghostly white face, and for a moment he wondered briefly is she were but a specter. A chattering specter. Ghosts were a very real presence, and while he had no reason to fear them, he certainly didn´t appreciate them haunting his home. Shaking his head, he said finally, "Cecilia."

She clamped her jaw shut as the chattering of her teeth grew ridiculously loud. The tall man standing before her dressed elegantly in soft gray trousers and a narrow long black high-collared jumper remained still, awaiting her move. Swallowing audibly, she rose to her feet, her thin robes swaying in the wind. Helplessly she waved a hand toward the door. "I didn´t think you were home."

Remus blinked. "I was upstairs."

"Mr. Lupin," she quavered, her eyes smarting as she blinked furiously. The mums on the side of the walk were dying. "Your flowers..."

Remus nodded. Often his own lips refused to translate what was in his mind. He wondered if perhaps the mums would have fared better on the southern side of the house. "Yes, it´s been a cold autumn," he agreed as he crossed with smooth strides to the swing. Kneeling on the cold boards, he placed strong hands on her arms. With a little cry, she pressed her head to his shoulder and allowed herself to momentarily revel in the support his strong frame offered. It was remarkable, truly astonishing the amount of comfort a gesture as simple as a touch could translate. The younger version of herself jumped into his arms and just cried and cried. Sighing resignedly, she pulled back and met his eyes.

"I came to tell you something..." she began haltingly.

Remus remained silent.

"Mr. Lupin," Cecilia pleaded, her heart hammering in her chest. "I need to tell you something about Miss Lancaster. I caught her writing a letter--nothing out of the ordinary, really, but she didn´t see come in and so I--I kind of stayed. She was writing to someone about you being a werewolf." She trembled, not afraid of the man before her but afraid have waited too long. "I don´t care if you are a werewolf," she hurried on, heedless to the tears that were spilling from her red-rimmed eyes. "I saw her writing this letter weeks ago, but the night before last she came to Genevieve and told her that it wasn´t necessary to make the bi-weekly visit this weekend--that something had come up at your house--and I´m so sorry, Mr. Lupin. If I had come forward sooner--" her voice broke off with a sob.

Remus pulled a handkerchief out from his pocket and handed it to the weeping girl. "Cecilia," he began gently, reaching out a steady hand. "Come out of the cold. There are some things I think we need to talk about."

Cecilia nodded and blew her nose into a piece of white linen decorated with golden snitches. She knew she wasn´t making much sense.

Leading her into the front room, Remus smiled apologetically as he started a fire to cast away the chill from the room. "Elizabeth and I were having a bit of a lie-in just now. I am afraid it´s not much warmer in here than it is outside." With fluid motions, candles were lit and the little room began to glow warmly. "Sit, please." He motioned her to the couch.

"Would you care for tea?" She shook her head. "Something stronger, perhaps?" he teased. Cecilia´s eyes widened as he deftly uncorked a decanter filled with an amber liquid. "Here. You´ll feel warmer." She watched as he quickly drowned his portion and took a tentative sip. Fire burned its way down her throat as she pulled a face.

Reclining back in the armchair, Remus rolled the glass into between his hands. Telling anyone about his lycanthropy was always difficult, and frankly he was surprised that Margaret hadn´t spread the word around the whole IWPA.

He decided to begin with the basics. "Cecilia, what Margaret wrote is correct. I am a werewolf," he said slowly, appraising her face for signs of a reaction. "Two nights ago was the full moon. Two days ago was also supposed to be one of the case-worker visits, and I´m just going to assume Margaret re-scheduled it due to it being my--er--time of the month."

"You don´t know me very well," he continued in the same soothing voice, "so I can hardly expect you to trust me, but I wish to assure you that Elizabeth is perfectly safe with me. There are many precautionary steps Sirius and I take to ensure her safety, and I can promise you that I certainly have no intentions of ever harming anyone." Something akin to compassion mixed with regret passed fleetingly across his tired face.

Blushing, Cecilia fumbled slightly with her words. "Mr. Lupin, I--I´m not afraid of you. I´ll admit to being a bit startled at discovering your secret, but never did I fear for Elizabeth´s safety--or my own," she added quickly. Sensing an almost tangible lightness take over his countenance, she continued slowly, "Your gentleness and keen emotional awareness did much to reassure me that you are indeed the right father for Elizabeth. I don´t need you to prove yourself to me."

"Thank you, Cecilia," Remus answered humbly. "And please, call me Remus."

Cecilia smiled. She blew her nose again and shook her head fervently as his eyes flickered towards the bottle of Pepper-Up. "Oh no, you don´t," she laughed. "Trust me you´ll have to chase me around the house. I´ve learned quite a few tricks from the children."

While Remus clarified the details of his transformations and the advances in the Wolfsbane Potion, Cecilia drew up her legs and found herself smiling at the incredible way in which he interlaced his explanations with personal stories. And when he switched to a less sensitive topic, she couldn´t help but notice how animated he became. Golden eyes flashed merrily as he relayed tale after tale of the antics of a certain group named the Marauders. And yet through it all, the shadow never completely left his eyes. Like the mums, she thought, before the autumn frost comes and kills their brilliance.

"Remus, I´m thinking about leaving the IWPA," she blurted when he stood to re-fill their glasses.

Startled, Remus stared at her blankly. They had all been hoping to gain Cecilia´s assistance in tracking Margaret´s movements. "You´ve left, you say?"

"I want to leave. Miss Lancaster has been my warden for twenty years, and for seventeen years I haven´t said a word against her--but knowing what I know now--I simply can´t stay there any longer," she said, her chin pushed forward obstinately.

Remus groaned inwardly. His compassionate nature would never condone Cecilia´s return to place of such misery, and yet his own self-preservation kicked in with astonishing force. Drawing a deep breath, he selected his words carefully. "Cecilia, there is something I have to tell you about Margaret and a man by the name of Walden McNair."

"Yes, I know. They´re business associates," she in a very matter of fact tone of voice.

"Business associates you say?" Remus asked coolly. Bloody hell--just like vile Margaret to call him her fucking business associate!

Cecilia nodded, wary of Remus´ rapidly paling face. "Yes. I think it´s a recent development though. She introduced me to him a few weeks back. A Mr. Walden Macnair. She said any letters addressed from him should be delivered to her directly. Sometimes the owl post gets confused. Why? Who is he?"

"He works for the Ministry. He´s in charge of executing creatures deemed dangerous by the Department."

Her mouth fell open. "I don´t understand why Margaret would associate herself with him then. We don´t keep animals at the institution."

Remus viciously poked the fire causing tiny sparks to pop from the grate. Animals indeed...

"You know, there was a letter I intercepted one day when I was in Miss Lancaster´s office. It just fell open--I swear, I wasn´t prying--and it was from Mr. McNair asking for a time frame," she volunteered hesitantly.

"A time frame?" Remus managed to choke out, the poker clattering noisily to the floor. He sank into his chair.

Cecilia nodded jerkily, her brown curls tumbling against her slight shoulders.

"When exactly did you see this letter?" he urged, the wheels in his mind whirring frantically. "Think, Cecilia, when?"

"It was dated the day after you and Mr. Black took Elizabeth home."

An angry knot began to form in the pit of Remus´ stomach. Twisting and turning with the force and viciousness of a steel knife it cut upwards against his lungs. His limbs grew ridged as brilliant streaks of pain passed through his system, dredging up memories of the incredible out of control sensation he experienced just after Hermione had finished talking about the Bristol werewolf. He shook his head. I can´t get sick now.

Just his eyes began to glaze over from the throbbing sensation of reigning in his pain a soft pop drew his attention to the fireplace.

Sirius pulled himself from the ashes carefully. He cast surprised eyes about the room and immediately sensed that something was amiss. The thickness of the air was palpable. "Remus," he cried out in concern as he noticed the glazed look in the yellow eyes. "Remus, stop that." Remus´ eyes slowly swirled back into focus, his heart slamming against his chest in relief. Sirius was home.

He knelt next to Remus and pulled clammy hands into his own warm ones. Frightened at the way his lover sat rigidly in his chair, the only movement an erratic pulse pounding in his temple, Sirius pressed their palms tightly together. Intense waves of electrical heat passed between the two men as currents of love and strength passed from the stronger man to reinvigorate the weaker.

Gasping audibly, Remus jerked his shoulder towards Cecilia who sat prone on the couch, her face a frozen mask of confusion at what just transpired. Sirius nodded brusquely at her before turning his full attention back on his lover.

"What are you doing out of bed?" was all he could manage.

Laughing weakly, Remus tried to push himself out of the armchair. "What are you doing home so late?" he countered.

Sirius frowned at Remus´ flippancy. "Moony," he complained.

"Cecilia arrived not too long ago. We´ve been talking."

"Some kind of talking to put you in this state," Sirius groused.

"Hello, Mr. Black," Cecilia called quietly. She always felt a little in awe of the wizard in front of her who radiated such manliness, such heated power. She recalled the charming smile he bestowed upon her the day they came to pick up Elizabeth, and it was at times like these that she lived off her initial reaction in order to still her irrational fears.

"Cecilia," he replied curtly without a backwards glance.

"What happened at your meeting?" Remus broke the awkward silence. When Sirius refused to answer, Remus sighed heavily. "Cecilia knows about Margaret and McNair. She gained privy to a letter in which McNair requested a time frame from Margaret."

Sirius´ eyes flew to Remus´ face in alarm. His hands tightened convulsively as his handsome face darkened. "When was this?"

Cecilia cowed under the harsh timbre of his voice. "I--I saw the letter the day after you left--"

"And you just now came to tell us, you foolish girl?" Sirius bit out furiously.

"I--I..." Cecilia felt truly frightened of the tall dark man looming over her. He had released Remus´ hands and had turned towards her in an intimidating stance. She shrank back against the couch.

"Do you understand what is happening here? Do you understand that this man´s very life is in jeopardy?"

Cecilia´s eyes flew to Remus, all color draining from her face.

"Every minute you kept this to yourself is a minute less that we have for developing a plan--" Sirius struggled to keep his hands at his side so great was his desire to shake her.

"Sirius!" Remus interjected sternly, coming to his feet shakily. Sirius turned to snap at him to sit back down. "You will not speak to her like that, Sirius. Cecilia had no way of knowing the importance of the document." His normally calm face blazed with anger. "Cecilia came to us as soon as she could."

"Remus," he protested angrily. "You yourself told me that something was amiss when she came to visit the last time." Turning back to Cecilia, he tried to control his voice for Remus´ sake. "You knew about this last time, didn´t you?"

Cecilia nodded mutely.

"And you didn´t say anything."

"I--well... I didn´t know--Miss Lancaster told me he was her business partner," she wailed. "I didn´t even know he was a werewolf!"

"Business partner?" Sirius was apoplectic.

Remus covered his face with his hands. "Stop shouting, Sirius, and yes. Margaret introduced him to Cecilia as her business partner."

"And do you know what their little business venture is, Cecilia? Can you visualize an axe? Picture a pool of blood. That´s how they kill werewolves."

The room went deadly still. Even the fire ceased to crackle.

Sighing deeply, Sirius ran a hand through his hair in sheer frustration. "You need to tell us everything you know, Cecilia."

Remus walked over to the trembling girl and cast Sirius a reproachful yet sympathetic look. He laid am arm comfortingly about her shoulders and pressed her gently against his side. This consoling gesture coming from a man she had greatly wronged caused Cecilia to break down in bitter, self-reproaching tears. Patting her back awkwardly, Remus watched Sirius´ expression carefully. He understood his anger--agreed with it to a certain degree--and yet, Cecilia´s frightened expression and streams of tears did much to alleviate his own fury. Pulling her back against his chest, he allowed her to balance her head on his shoulder, her hair tickling his nose slightly.

"Padfoot, will you hand me the tissues?" he asked calmly, his neck growing damp from the great rivulets of tears.

Sirius summoned the tissues and dropped them on the couch next to Remus. He wasn´t quite ready to forgive her act of cowardice.

"Remus, Charlie and Percy were planning on dropping by in a little bit. Would you rather I owl Percy´s assistance and ask them to come tomorrow?"

Remus shook his head. "No," he said quietly. "I want to talk with Percy tonight. Cecilia," he turned to the hiccupping girl in his arms. He tenderly raised her head and with tissue in hand, carefully wiped the remaining tears from her once rosy cheeks. "Cecilia, friends of ours are going to drop by soon, and I would appreciate it greatly if you told them what you told me." Cecilia´s eyes peeked at Sirius nervously from under wet lashes. "Sirius will be fine," he said firmly.

Sirius moved to the fireplace and stared pensively at the shower of sparks falling from a glowing log. His terrible anger at the injustice of the situation ate at him relentlessly. From the moment Charlie´s letter arrived he felt such hostility at the world--hostility he hadn´t experienced since Azkaban. The range of emotions flowing through his body terrified him, and he trembled slightly at the deep-seeded knowledge that if the situation called for it he would do anything to save Remus. He stared at his shaking hands in wonderment and briefly imagined the power he could channel into these two extensions of his muscular arms. And yet at the same time he felt ashamed of his thoughts. Remus was constantly instructing him on how to reign in his temper, and for him to lose control and turn into the very epitome of the monster Remus feared the most... Sirius gripped his fists furiously, feeling his nails cut into his palms--and he reveled in the pain.

Cecilia´s crying gradually ceased, and Sirius heard Remus tell her where the bathroom was. He listened to her footsteps fade away. Suddenly he felt two strong arms embrace him tightly around his waist. He could smell Remus´ warmth--a faint hint of his cologne, a trace of Elizabeth´s milk--but mostly he could detect the aroma of affection as Remus pressed his face against his neck. No anger, just love. Remus no longer held his body rigidly, but rather nestled it softly along the contours of Sirius´ tall frame.

"Damn it, Remus... I do apologize..." he muttered, still facing the flames. "But I´m still bloody furious! Fucking business associate?"

Remus´ laugh was muffled in the thickness of Sirius´ robes. He squeezed tightly and grinned as Sirius yelped. "That´s exactly what I thought."

"Remus, you know that I only reacted because of the harm facing you," he said petulantly. Remus squeezed him again. "I love you, Moony, and I´m sorry if I haven´t taken a page from you and learned to control my temper."

"It´s all right, Paddy. I understand."

Sirius turned completely. "You do?" He raised hopeful eyes at the man who stood before him with such regal grace. Remus nodded. Breathing a sigh of relief, Sirius tugged at Remus´ arms. "God, it´s good that you put up with me..." He leaned his dark head forward and pecked at his lips. "But I´m still angry."

"Silly Padfoot," Remus chuckled between kisses. He traced Sirius´ upper lip hotly before pulling it into his mouth. As his tongue pressed forward to mingle in the dark hot warmth offered so sweetly up to him, he jumped slightly and bit down on Sirius´ lip.

"Ow! What did you do that for, Moony?" Sirius protested, nursing his injured lip. "Gads, I think I´m bleeding."

Remus stilled and cocked his head to the side worriedly. "Do you hear that? I swear I just heard a dog barking. We´re not close enough to the village..."

Sirius listened closely. Suddenly he shouted in astonishment. "Omigod it works!"

Frowning, Remus stared with narrowed eyes at his lover who was doubled over in mirth. "What did you do, Sirius, and why does that sound like you?"

"Because it is me, Moony! Elizabeth needs a fresh nappy."

"How do you know that? You can´t possibly have heard her. I didn´t hear a sound and you know my hearing is loads better than yours!" Remus protested as he chased after Sirius who bounded up the stairs with athletic ease.

Dashing into the bedroom, Remus crashed into Sirius´ broad back.

"See, Moony?" Sirius said with an air of superiority. A little miniature Padfoot barked anxiously from Elizabeth´s chest. Their daughter sat staring at the front of her dress, her small fingers picking anxiously at the little decal.

"Da da!" she cried out, stretching her small arms towards the two men.

Sirius sniffed the air expectantly. "Ah... there it is, Moony. Definitely a new nappy."

"So this is what you were busy doing that morning when you let the kettle whistle for hours." Remus disengaged the barrier and bent down to pick up his daughter. She rubbed her rosy cheek against his. "I don´t want to know what other surprises are in store for me, do I?

Sirius shrugged in amusement. "A Marauder never tells in advance. You should know that, Moony. Besides," he called back as he danced out of the room. "It´s your turn to change her."

Remus laughed. "I´ll have to keep an eye on you, Lizzie, just in case you decide to take a page from Daddy Sirius´ book." He propped her up on his hip and strolled into the nursery. "Blimey!" He wrinkled his nose. "Let´s silence Padfoot shall we?" He kissed his daughter quickly and smiled into her violet eyes. Elizabeth bestowed one of her gorgeous smiles in return.

"Ah yes...We´ll be fine, won´t we, Lizzie? Just fine," Remus whispered.