Full Moon

He had not been to Knockturn Alley in over ten years. At that time, in the aftermath of the First War, those who were suspected of being Death Eaters or who had recanted were trying to unload their incriminating Dark Magic items on the stores there, practically giving them away. But the stores never completely lost their market. There was always a market for illegal potions and for items useful for petty criminals. It was a good place to unload stolen or smuggled merchandise, since most of the merchants did not inquire much where their merchandise came from. This made it a useful place for people such as werewolves, who were unable to make a living in the aboveground economy. Some werewolves used to try to sell things on the street in Diagon Alley, including things they had made themselves, but the store owners succeeded an having them removed, for they were considered a blight.

It was evening now as he walked down the darkening street, for he was heading for the Den, the evening hangout of the werewolves and the center of their social life. He noticed that there were more dangerous items in the storefronts now, not surprisingly, since Dark Magic was on the rise. He observed a black cat walking along on the other side of the street, apparently following a large black spider, which it pounced on. He passed a potions shop that he knew sold a slow-acting poisonous potion that people would drink because it made them feel euphoric; not much different from Firewhiskey, he thought grimly. He reached a small dirt path between two dingy storefronts that no one who wasn't looking for it would ever notice. He turned into it and walked toward the brick building behind the store.

It was a cellar entrance, with a flight of concrete steps down from the ground along the side of the building leading to a battered oak door with a wrought-iron knocker. Lupin knocked, and a dark-haired man with a pale, pointed face and dark circles under his eyes poked his head out the door. "I'm a werewolf," said Lupin. To his surprise, the man nodded and let him in.

The scene was as he remembered it. The proprietor was behind a bar, and the other werewolves were mostly sitting around small tables with their whiskey glasses, playing an assortment of wizarding and Muggle games, most of them gambling. A few Muggles who had been bitten and become werewolves were among them. As he remembered, there was a complete absence of women.

"Well, if it isn't Remus Lupin," said a werewolf as he walked in, in a tone that was half-mocking, half-friendly. Lupin was surprised that anyone there even remembered his name.

"That's Mister Lupin to you," said another one. "He's an upstanding member of wizarding society."

"No, I'm not."

"Make that Professor Lupin," said a slightly older-looking one who had his feet up on a chair. "He had a teaching post at Hogwarts a few years ago." Many of them laughed, thinking this was a joke. This was the sort of thing Lupin had been expecting.

"It's true, isn't it, Lupin? Did you manage to keep it a secret for a whole year that you're a werewolf?"

"Everyone thinks the position is cursed, so they're desperate to fill it," said Lupin. He wondered whether it was too soon to put in a good word for Dumbledore. "But Dumbledore is the headmaster of Hogwarts, and he does not discriminate against werewolves. He arranged for me to attend school there when I was already a werewolf, for I was bitten as a small child. And he hired me knowing that I was a werewolf."

"Then why did he let you go?"

"Because everyone else found out, and the parents wouldn't have stood for it. The staff had a potion to make my transformations harmless, and once at the end of the year I forgot to take it."

"What potion was this?" said another one of them suspiciously.

"The Wolfsbane Potion. It--"

"Wolfsbane potion? Lupin, don't you know that wolfsbane is poisonous to werewolves? Don't you know they were trying to poison you?"

"No, it was a complicated potion. There must have been things in it that counteracted that. It made me transform, when the time came, into a harmless wolf without the dementia."

Some of the werewolves scowled, and he realized he had made a social blunder. "We're not demented, Lupin," said the same werewolf in a hostile tone. But the older one had sat up and was looking at him with something more like pity.

"Lupin, they must have been poisoning you slowly, so it wouldn't be so obvious. They were just using you to fill the post until they could get someone else. No non-werewolf really wants a werewolf to live, let alone teach at his school."

"Dumbledore does."

"And did he entreat you to stay?"

"No," said Lupin wearily.

"Remus Lupin," said another werewolf, "have you finally remembered us? Have you finally remembered who you are? Decided to stop torturing yourself?"

The older one spoke again. "Can you spend your whole life begging favors from people who despise you? Haven't you been sacked from every job you ever had when they found out?"

Lupin was surprised that they would remember, if they had ever known. "How did you know that?"

"We keep an eye out for our own," he said, winking.

Lupin was amazed. Dumbledore had been right. He had already been called one of them. He might as well try to influence them. But he would have to play it carefully.

"Not all wizards are the same," said Lupin. "There are some who want to change the way werewolves are treated. Those ones are fighting Voldemort, not following him. Voldemort and his Death Eaters are only using us, and if they win they will kill us all."

"How do you know?"

"I've lived in wizarding society, and I have seen the witches and wizards on both sides of this conflict. The Death Eaters throw scraps to other beings, but they despise everyone but themselves, and when they have power they will turn on us. They want to stamp out everyone whose blood they call impure. It's only the ones fighting them who want to improve our lives."

"Oh, they want to improve our lives, do they? Well go and tell them that we werewolves have a good time."

"A good time?" said Lupin. "Could it be that you're making the best of a bad situation? Don't werewolves live the way we do because we've been shut out? Would you not prefer a job with decent pay? Don't you ever miss"--curiosity got the better of him--"don't you miss the company of women?"

"Oh, we like women," said a werewolf with a greedy look that Lupin understood, and he could not hide his disgust. This was not lost on the other werewolves.

"Do you eat meat, Lupin?" said one of them sharply, as if reading his thoughts.

"Yes," said Lupin nervously.

"Hypocrite!" said another.

"Do you enjoy your meat, Lupin?" said the first.

"Yes." What was the point of lying? He obviously wouldn't eat it if he didn't enjoy it.

"Do you think of the life of the animal it came from? Of its family? Do you think it was slaughtered kindly? Do most normal humans think about that?"

This gave Lupin a moment's pause. Some humans thought about that, but most did not.

"Why then do they look down on us?" the werewolf persisted. Did he really want an answer?

"Humans want to protect their families and friends. Most animals do not hunt and eat their own kind."

"And since when have other humans considered us their own kind?" said the werewolf bitterly.

"Lupin," said the older werewolf, "we only hunt humans when we are transformed, and they are not our own kind then."

"Except that maniac Greyback," said another, and a few of them rolled their eyes.

Lupin was both appalled to hear that Greyback was hunting people when not transformed, and relieved that he did not seem to be popular with the other werewolves.

"Lupin," the older werewolf continued, "we are in our human form the vast majority of the time, yet other humans think of us as what we are when we're transformed. Do they ever stop to consider that when they capture and kill a werewolf, they are killing a human being? What do we owe them?"

Lupin was confused already, because really what the man said was right. No, it wasn't. What about his friends in the Order? What about Hermione and Tonks and...Gillyfeld? These werewolves didn't know such people existed. "Not all normal witches and wizards are like that," he said. "There are some who do realize that we are human beings, and want to change the way we are treated."

"Where are they?"

"Here and there. I've met them. They are the ones fighting Voldemort."

"But they never gave you a job for long, did they? And did your lady friends ever stay with you, knowing what you are?"

"There is one who says she wants to stay with me."

The other werewolves laughed. "Where is she then?" said one. "Why don't you bring her along?"

At this point Lupin could not help asking another question that he had always held back. With other werewolves, he found he was unable to play it carefully. "Why are there no female werewolves? Don't women or girls ever get bitten and survive?"

The other werewolves looked at each other nervously. "We know nothing of that, Lupin," said one.

"There are no female werewolves, Lupin," said the older one. "It is best not to inquire."

Lupin was puzzled. What could werewolves be afraid to talk about, even amongst themselves, when they admitted they enjoyed eating women?

"Women want nothing with us," said one of the others. "Why shouldn't we eat them?"

Lupin's disgust had become mingled with fear and confusion. They were both animal appetites, weren't they? Was it wrong only to eat meat, if they were not his own kind then? But he had always wanted love relationships--but couldn't have them, because he had always been misunderstood, because he was the same as them. No, he wasn't; he was a human being. He had always been gentle and kind to women, even to animals--except for eating them. They were human beings too. Whose logic was faulty, his or theirs? He tried to remember his friends in the Order...he realized he was concentrating as if to make a Patronus, but he could not make a Patronus here, he would be thrown out, and it would not change him or them, these were werewolves, not dementors, they were not evil like dementors... somehow he was afraid he would endanger her even by thinking about her...

The older werewolf could see his mental anguish, and clapped him on the shoulder. "Stop torturing yourself, Lupin. People who are no better than you have made you despise what you are."

A hand put a glass on the table next to him and filled it with Firewhiskey. He drained it and the heat shot through him, and so did the numbing of pain.

Could it be true? He had always despised himself, not only for being a werewolf, but because in his insecurity he had always had a tendency to duck responsibility. And were those other wizards any better? They didn't take any responsibility for werewolves, those afflicted members of their own kind, and then they blamed werewolves for attacking them, as if they could help it. Did they think about what it meant when they bought their meat all nicely cut up and packaged in Diagon Alley, cooked it and ate it in comfort, laughing at the table with their friends? They didn't have to slaughter it themselves, or consider whether it came from an animal that was or had a mother. None of them (except one, he could still remember) had thought about the army of house-elf slaves who served them feasts every day at Hogwarts, where they themselves took their place for granted. For Lupin it had been an unheard-of privilege to be allowed to go there, and he had paid a high price in shame for having violated the painful conditions under which this had been arranged. People no better than he had indeed made him despise what he was. They had never wanted to face the facts any more than he had.

"Do you have any money, Lupin?"

"A little," he said. "Why?"

"We like to gamble at cards, but we can play for low stakes, if you haven't got much." The werewolf was shuffling a pack of cards.

"Deal me in," said Lupin, and there was a glint in his eye, for he saw that they were magical cards, and that as a skilled wizard he would have an advantage.

Magical cards had several features in them that made Muggle-style cheating difficult. The backs could not be marked, because the backs were always changing. If anyone who shouldn't tried to look at the cards in another player's hand, they would go blank. They also had some features that could confuse any inexperienced player.

The queens and the jacks tended to wink at the players if they wanted to be played. Sometimes they did this when it was really best for the player to play them, but sometimes they did it just because they wanted attention, and for some players it took an effort of self-control neither to play them nor to wink back. The kings liked to fight with each other and sometimes a king would pull a sword from behind his head or an ax from his side and go out of his frame to that of another king, and the player would be unable to play him until he came back. The jokers were wild and there was no telling what they might do.

Lupin knew how to hold the pattern on the back of a card steady so that he could follow it, and since the cards changed their patterns at different rates, this usually escaped observation. He could also conjure a card up his sleeve, but for this he needed to use his wand. He was very good at the surreptitious use of his wand, which he also used to empty his glass, because he knew that Firewhiskey was dangerous for him and he wanted to keep his wits about him.

He was careful not to win much from the other werewolves, because he did not want to antagonize them. He would only cheat if it was necessary to avoid big losses, which he did not have the means to pay. He rather enjoyed the game and the evening was passing more pleasantly than he expected, when he glanced into the opposite corner and saw something that made him shudder. Fenrir Greyback had come in and taken a place at another table.

Lupin in his waking state could hardly remember Greyback's appearance on the terrible night he was bitten, but the trauma had marked him forever, and some resemblance between Greyback the wolf and Greyback the human struck a chord in him. Lupin quickly took in Greyback's pointed brown teeth and long scaly fingernails and detected the smell of blood on him, and he could indeed believe that Greyback was attacking people when he was not transformed.

"Hey Lupin," said another werewolf jocularly, "show us something you learned at Hogwarts!"

Lupin obliged the man by Disapparating.

***

That human Lupin had changed his mind again, and brought Lupin back to the southern forests that were the usual haunt of the werewolves. He quickly perceived that something evil was afoot in the Wizarding World that was affecting other beings, including the werewolves, and threatened to engulf them all. A pack of wizards whom the other werewolves called "Death Eaters" were growing in numbers and gaining in power, and not only were they humans, they were the worst sort of humans.

Lupin quickly saw that these humans had an excess of every quality he had ever detested about humans. They were power-hungry, arrogant and destructive. They sought total dominion over everyone and everything. They were a little like those non-magical humans who had once run roughshod over other humans, their places and the wild places, wielding weapons and killing foxes and deer just for fun. Only these were more dangerous, because they were wizards.

These wizards attacked non-magical people, Muggles, for no apparent reason. Lupin had always seen that humans had the unnatural practice of attacking and killing their own kind, but those fights were not usually this one-sided. Muggles could not defend themselves at all against wizards, and it could not be a natural instinct for wizards to attack Muggles, because other wizards had always stayed clear of them. Lupin sensed some deliberate planned purpose in their actions.

Worst of all, the Death Eaters were baiting the werewolves. They were driving Muggles into the forests where there were werewolves, apparently to terrorize them, and the other werewolves advised Lupin that easy prey was to be had toward the Muggle side of the forest. The other werewolves told Lupin that the Death Eaters made green lights appear in the sky in the shape of a human skull with a snake sticking out of the mouth, and if the werewolves followed in that direction, they would sometimes find a freshly killed human there, fresh enough to eat. Like vultures, thought Lupin disgustedly. One such sign had already appeared that night, and some of the werewolves had followed it.

They told him that Fenrir Greyback, the werewolf Lupin had always feared and hated, had become a Death Eater and joined them in his human form. Lupin feared other werewolves might do the same, and help the Death Eaters gain ascendancy. He feared that the other werewolves, in their human form, might support the Death Eaters because they would remember the prey they received as wolves, and that in their wolf form they might not attack the Death Eaters because they would remember their thoughts as humans. He feared the werewolves would become the hunting dogs of the Death Eaters.

When the werewolves gathered in the clearing late that night, they were interested to hear what Lupin had to tell them, because he had been gone for so long that they were curious about where he had been and about his adventures. But Lupin found himself doing something he would never have imagined himself doing: proselytizing.

"My friends," said Lupin, "something evil is afoot amongst us, and I see disaster looming for the werewolves. Humans with evil intentions are feeding us bait, and I fear all too many werewolves are taking it. These are not only humans, but powerful wizards, and they mean to enslave us, for when have humans thrown easy prey or feed to animals except to manipulate them for some purpose of their own? Isn't this how the wolves were made into dogs? Isn't this how the boars were made into hogs? Isn't this how the sheep were enslaved, how the horses and the cattle were enslaved?"

A few of the werewolves groaned.

"Shall we no longer hunt for ourselves? Are we dogs? Are we vultures? Are we not werewolves?"

"Lupin, werewolves cannot be domesticated like other animals. Even wizards cannot control us in our wolf state. If they try to keep us near them, we will attack them too."

"They can do anything to us in our human state, and that is our usual state. Are the werewolves now supporting them in our human state, and helping their rise to power, because of this favor?" Lupin realized he was at a disadvantage, because they remembered something of their human state, and he did not.

"We do not take sides in wizarding wars or any other human wars, Lupin," said an older werewolf. "All other humans hate werewolves. We get our prey wherever we can find it. They are no more using us than we are using them."

"They are more powerful than we are," said Lupin. "They seek total power. If they will kill their own kind, will they not turn on us and kill us when they are through using us for their purpose?"

"Why should they kill us, any more than the other wizards did? They all hate us. These ones seem to hate us less than the others," said another werewolf.

"The others would not kill us in our human form, or we would all be dead," said Lupin. "These wizards despise everyone but themselves, and will kill anyone they want. If they help us multiply, we will become a threat to them, and they will kill us."

"How do you know? If they threaten us, we can all attack them at the full moon."

"All the more reason for them to kill us in our human form. They will not warn us," said Lupin. "The time to change course is now, before it is too late."

"Lupin, we werewolves live for the present. We do not care about the outcome of this war, or any other war." The werewolves were dispersing and returning to the hunt, for in these times they might find humans abroad at any time of night.

Lupin was discouraged, but left the clearing to sniff out the trails of humans himself. He hoped to find Death Eaters, not only because he hated them, but also because if they thought the werewolves had stopped hunting unassisted, he would have the advantage of surprise.

***

After the first evening, Lupin never challenged the other werewolves about their hunting, biting or eating of humans, though he usually avoided the subject. Since he was modest and affable, he got on well enough. Sometimes, on request, he would entertain the others with modest displays of magic they did not know, or amusing tales from the Muggle or Wizarding Worlds. The other wizard werewolves knew that he sometimes cheated at cards, but since they cheated to win, whereas Lupin cheated only to break even, they maintained a conspiracy of silence with him, and only argued with each other.

There was one subject, however, on which Lupin maintained his integrity and never wavered, and on which he would argue forcefully if it ever came up. He always insisted that Voldemort was unspeakably evil, that he and his followers meant to destroy everyone whose blood they considered impure, and that it was suicidal folly for the werewolves to help or support them in any way.

After that first evening, he managed to keep his seat if Greyback appeared, which he did less often than the other werewolves, since he was sometimes off on Death Eater business. He soon realized that Greyback would not attack him in that place, for werewolves did not like to fight amongst themselves, and the proprietor would have thrown him out. This was a relief to Lupin, because at first he thought that he might have to defend himself with the use of magic that might make him threatening to the other werewolves. He came to suspect that Greyback would never attack him except among a pack of Death Eaters, because Greyback was no match for him as a wizard, and like most bullies, he was not particularly brave.

Lupin knew that, directly or indirectly, Greyback would hear every word he said about Voldemort and report it straight to the Death Eaters. This was no more than Lupin had signed up for. It was some compensation that he had the treat of hearing what Greyback had to say as well.

Lupin saw that having what he imagined to be the patronage of powerful wizards had given Greyback a sort of swagger that Lupin suspected did not much impress the other werewolves. Lupin had seen such people in the Muggle world, lower-class people who identified with their superiors and expected to rise because their superiors, who despised them, manipulated them with that illusion. Lupin could imagine how Voldemort's inner circle must laugh at Greyback behind his back, how they must consider him a filthy scavenger to be used and then killed when the war was over, and how their derision was probably all the greater because of the enthusiasm with which Greyback did their bidding.

For Lupin could remember the Slytherin kids, many of them the children of past and future Death Eaters, jeering at him and calling him "monster" just before he left Hogwarts. Mrs. Black, if she stooped to notice him, would scream the same thing. He remembered always getting looks of loathing from those pure-blood witches and wizards who looked down on witches and wizards of Muggle descent, the ones whose cause Voldemort championed. Most of all, he remembered how late during the First War, Voldemort had tried to gain support among the insecure by promising that if he won, he would eradicate the werewolves as a security measure.

Lupin heard Greyback boast of the money and easy prey he obtained by being a Death Eater, and heard him urge the other werewolves to join them. He heard Greyback say that they were sure to win, and that his service would assure him a good place in the new society. But when he heard Greyback say that he expected soon to have the Dark Mark and be summoned to meetings with Lord Voldemort, Lupin almost laughed out loud. He began to think that not only was Greyback not very brave, but that he was the biggest fool Lupin had ever seen in his life. And though his loathing of the man never abated, his terror melted into fear, and his fear began to be overtaken by contempt.

But the other werewolves were no more impressed by Lupin's arguments than they were by Greyback.

"We may be better off if Voldemort wins, because he means to end the Wizarding Statute of Secrecy. We won't have to hide from Muggles any more, because the government won't care whether they know we really exist."

"Don't you know it's because of the Wizarding Statute of Secrecy that we have a place here at all, lowly as it is?" said Lupin. "The past governments have let us stay here because we are magical, and they don't want the Muggles to know we exist. They have let us stay here to keep us out of the sight of Muggles. They would not slaughter us in our human form, when it would be easiest, because they do not want to be seen as mass murderers. Voldemort's government will have no such constraint."

"Why should Voldemort want to slaughter us any more than the current government? We may have more prey, and be able to go where we please."

"For a while," said Lupin. "They are just using us. As we multiply, we will become a bigger threat to them. We attack any humans when we are transformed, and we will attack them too. When they are through with us they will slaughter us. The Muggles are even more terrified of werewolves than wizards are. When they find out we exist, and that they can kill us in our human form, they will kill us too. Everyone will kill us."

A few of the werewolves laughed. "Just so, Lupin. All normal humans hate werewolves. What do we care who wins this war? If they throw prey our way, why shouldn't we take it? We werewolves live for the present."

"These wizards are different," Lupin insisted. "They despise everyone but themselves. They openly worship power and violence, and they want to clean out wizarding society of anyone they think is impure. Don't you know that means us?" Lupin turned desperately to one of the older werewolves. "Don't you remember that during the last war, Voldemort tried to gain support from insecure witches and wizards by saying he would eradicate the werewolves as a security measure?"

"Well, he's being a bit smarter this time, isn't he?" said the werewolf.

"Yes, he is," said Lupin bitterly.

"Come, come," said Trackless, the older werewolf who had offered Lupin wisdom on his first evening there, "let's settle this like werewolves!" He took a piece of paper, folded it lengthwise, and wrote:

DUMBLEDORE

on one side. Then he took a penknife from his pocket, made a slit in the crease, inserted the king of hearts, and stood the folded paper on the table. He took another piece of paper, folded it, and wrote:

VOLDEMORT

and similarly inserted the king of spades. A Muggle werewolf brought over a pair of dice and a pile of poker chips.

"Lupin! You have to throw for Dumbledore!"

"Who will throw for Voldemort? Greyback! Where's Greyback?"

Oh no, thought Lupin. For though he had found he could live with Greyback in the room, he thought he would die if forced to socialize with him. Fortunately Greyback was not there, and another werewolf volunteered to throw for Voldemort. Much as Lupin disliked this game, he felt he must play along for a while. He threw the dice and two ones came up.

"Snake eyes for Dumbledore!" said someone merrily. "That's doubles, Lupin, so you get to throw again."

Lupin was not very superstitious, and yet somehow he felt that snake eyes for Dumbledore was not a good omen. But after a few rounds of the game, Dumbledore was winning, and Lupin thought it might be safe to call it off, for at least he would not look like a sore loser.

"This is boring," he said, sweeping everything off the table, for he had had a few glasses of whiskey by this time. "Let's have a game of skill!" He took out the cards again.

He still enjoyed the card games, but he had become tired of deceiving the other werewolves by using his wand to empty his glass. He had been drinking more of the whiskey, and he knew he still owed it to Dumbledore and to his mission to stay alive. He finally broke down and went to the bar and asked the proprietor whether he had Butterbeer on tap.

The proprietor laughed and pulled a bottle from under the counter. "Hardly anyone here drinks it," he said, "but I can order more if you like."

"Yes, please do," said Lupin. When he returned to the table with his bottle, the others seemed rather amused, but not contemptuous, as he had feared.

Lupin always stayed at the Den until the last of the others left, because when he went home he usually had nightmares. He knew only too well what the nightmares meant, and what he could accept in the company of the others he could not face alone. Since he kept their company, the other werewolves thought he liked them, and so they tolerated this eccentric werewolf who drank Butterbeer, cheated to break even at cards, and was so passionate on the subject of Voldemort. But in or out of company he numbed himself with a continuous flow of Butterbeer, and there was hardly a waking moment when he did not have one in his hand.

***

Someone passed a hat across the table. "Conjure us something, Lupin," said a werewolf to the jeering laughter of the others. "Weren't you educated at Hogwarts?"

He reached in and pulled out a bottle opener, but it didn't work. It was a good thing he knew how to use the other one, for they were testing him. It was a good thing Dumbledore had given him six months' severance pay, so he could lose it all in one night and prove that he lived for the moment like the rest of them. But at some point he couldn't pretend any more, and he knew he had to find the one person who knew what he really was and still loved him.

He went out to look for Tonks, who was waiting for him outside. Relieved, he was about to embrace her, when he glanced up and saw the full moon, which struck terror in him like never before. "Run for it!" were his last human words, but it was too late, she could not run and Disapparate at the same time. As she turned, he opened his jaws to bite...

Lupin woke up drenched in sweat and shaking with terror. His alarm was too late. He reached for the bottle of whiskey that he found it necessary to keep at home just for emergencies, and only when he had drunk a few swallows did his trembling stop.

***

Dumbledore had not told them what Lupin's mission was, but Tonks knew, and not only did she miss him, she was worried out of her mind about him. She knew only too well of his low self-esteem, his craving for acceptance, and his already heavy burden of guilt, and she was afraid that if he was among the werewolves, doing as they did, the internal conflict would literally make him mentally ill, or at least drive him to drink.

A trunk in one of the upstairs rooms hit her in the shin, and she angrily kicked it. A worn-out wooden shelf came loose from the wall and crashed down, breaking over her head and spilling a pile of disintegrating ancient books and a few breakable objects onto the floor. "Confringo Dumbledore!" she said.

Fred Weasley, who was passing by in the hallway, poked his head in the door. "Rank insubordination!" he said approvingly, and he looked even more amused when he noticed the mess of broken objects on the floor, for he could not see how Dumbledore had been the cause of this.

"It's a good thing you're here," said Tonks testily, "now that I don't have Sirius to rib me any more."

But soon no one ribbed Tonks, because it was clear that she had lost not only her good humor but also her appetite, and seemed to be wasting away. They thought she might be grieving for Sirius, because sometimes grief takes time to manifest, and even longer to resolve.

***

Some of the other werewolves had joined Lupin in the clearing.

"You'd better run for it, Lupin," said one. "If you get a head start, he won't catch you."

"He means to kill you tonight," said another. "He is coming here to kill you."

"When is the last time he has fought one of us?" said Lupin. "He is a servant of humans now."

"We know you're crazy, but don't be stupid, Lupin. He is bigger and stronger than you. He will kill you."

"We're not joking, Lupin. We will not defend you."

"I know you will not defend me. I will face him alone."

"He will kill you. If you run now, you can get away, because though he is bigger than you, you are faster."

Lupin did not heed them, and eventually they cleared away, muttering that if Lupin wanted to die it was his own business.

Somehow Lupin knew, more certainly than he had ever known anything before, that he must face Greyback alone. He knew that if he ran away, the shame would follow him like a shadow for the rest of his life. Whether serving the Death Eaters and eating captives and children had made Greyback soft, he did not really know. The thing that mattered was that Lupin believed it.

When Greyback appeared in the clearing and saw his relatively little opponent standing there waiting for him, he laughed, for he had not expected it to be this easy.

"Remus Lupin," he said contemptuously, "I tasted your blood once when you were a human child. I should have killed you then, because you have become a troublemaker. But now I will have the added pleasure of satisfying a long anticipation."

"Fenrir Greyback," said Lupin just as contemptuously, "since when does a dog fight with a wolf? Has your master let you off the leash tonight? Did they lose today, or did they just forget to feed you?"

Greyback snarled and bared his terrible fangs, but Lupin also bared his terrible fangs, and his fur was standing so much on end that he looked almost as big as Greyback. There was fire in his eyes, and Greyback saw that Lupin was not afraid of him. And Greyback was disconcerted to meet such ferocity in such an unexpected quarter.

In that moment of disconcertion, Lupin pounced and sank his teeth into Greyback's throat. This might have killed a lesser animal, but the arteries of werewolves were protected by thick muscles, and Greyback with his greater strength threw Lupin off and onto his back.

This might have ended it for another animal, but Lupin was quick, and he rolled over and onto his feet before Greyback could pin him down. He sprang again and closed his jaws on Greyback's nose, so Greyback could not bite. Greyback threw him off again, but was bleeding profusely. After a few rounds of this battle of strength versus speed, Greyback started to wonder whether it was worth it. He still did not doubt that he could kill Lupin, but maybe it was not worth sustaining all these injuries, when the Death Eaters could pick Lupin off like a fly in Knockturn Alley. The other Death Eaters did not take Lupin seriously enough. He would have to convince them that it was time to act, because this Lupin was more dangerous than they thought.

Greyback walked away, and Lupin was too injured himself to try to follow him. Lupin had thought he would win, but had not expected it to be this easy. He sat down and rested, and a few werewolves who had stayed nearby out of curiosity came out of the woods and howled in approval, because they liked to occasionally see the underdog win a fight. But when Lupin opened his mouth to explain to them why he had won, they suspected what was coming, looked at each other, and dispersed. And Lupin realized that although he had won the battle, he was losing the war.

***

Someone poured Lupin a glass of Firewhiskey and he downed it without thinking. There was a smell of raw game in the air, which had stimulated a long-suppressed appetite in him. For though he had eaten cooked meat for most of his life, he had not been among the werewolves long before he remembered how much better it smelled and tasted raw. They ate meat that had been caught in the wild, which he realized was less cruel than eating meat from animals that had been raised in captivity, because at least the animal had been able to live free before it was killed. They had treated him to a slab of venison in celebration of his recovery from some wounds he had suffered in his wolf state, he knew not how. They were almost healed, for the other werewolves had referred him to a werewolf healer.

"I tried to make an honest living in my youth, playing the flute," said Trackless. Lupin believed it, for the man played the flute beautifully. "I wasn't even in front of the stores. I had respectable gigs in inns and restaurants. I even went up to Hogsmeade and played at The Three Broomsticks."

"How did they find you out?" said another werewolf.

"I forgot to say 'You-Know-Who.' "

The others laughed, including Lupin, for the werewolves thought it was uproarious that ordinary witches and wizards were afraid to say Voldemort's name.

"You tried several times, didn't you, Lupin?"

"Yes, I did, much to the indignation of my employers." The werewolves laughed.

"I once got a job with a rich wizarding family," said another one. "They threw me out when they found out I knew how to slaughter and cut up a carcass. You see, when they weren't home, I would go downstairs and help the overworked house-elf, and they caught me at it one day."

Lupin's face darkened.

"You'll be happy to know, Lupin, that the master came to a bad end. He used to hunt werewolves for a thrilling sport. That was not wise."

Lupin smiled. "Where do you get this meat?" he said. "It's good."

"Store on the corner of the alley. You have to watch it, though, because their stuff isn't always what they say it is. Rumor has it that they're selling Muggle meat now."

Lupin gagged.

"We're just teasing, Lupin. We know how to get your back up."

But Lupin knew that it was only too likely. Murders of Muggles by Death Eaters had already begun, the stores in the alley were not inspected, and there were witches and wizards who would sell anything to make a Galleon, without asking where it came from. He knew perfectly well that what he was eating was deer meat, but also that if he took another bite he would vomit. He would never approach the Ministry, but Dumbledore should know about this.

"Where did you say this place is?" he said in what he hoped would sound like an offhand way, as if he wanted to shop there.

Trackless had been watching him sharply. "Tread lightly, Lupin," he said. "We don't want that place shut down. Werewolves have been known to kill a rat, you know." But Lupin knew that it was not the werewolves who would kill him.

He managed to chat for a while, but since he was no longer hungry, he discreetly took his meat to the bar and asked the proprietor to hold it for him in the icebox until he was ready to leave. He could not afford to waste such a piece of meat.

He was now completely indifferent as to whether Greyback came or not. There was nothing Greyback could report about him to the Death Eaters that they did not already know. Greyback was no more powerful than he was, only uglier. He looked on his terror of Greyback as something remembered from the past.

No, it was never the physical threat from Greyback in the present he had feared most, or the memory of the pain of the bite. It may have been partly the suppressed memory of Greyback's appearance that terrible night, which could never be repeated, because he had for the first and last time seen Greyback as a wolf when he was but a human child. But it occurred to him that perhaps he had feared Greyback most because Greyback had made him what he was: a werewolf.

Then he remembered his boggart. It had never been Greyback he had feared most. It had never even been Voldemort. It had always been himself. For a minute he saw, as if detached from his body and looking down at the scene, himself among the werewolves, drinking, playing games, and laughing other humans to scorn, indifferent to their fate as prey, unless the predators were Voldemort's minions. And he was gripped by the cold fear he sometimes felt when he suddenly realized that he was or had been a deadly threat to others. He had not been with a woman in years. Had he started eating them? He had not looked in a mirror in months. Were his incisors getting sharper? He pushed himself away from the table with an ashen face.

"You alright there, Lupin?" said one.

"I'm not well--I think I better go home."

"Does our talk of the hunt make you queasy again, Professor Lupin?" said another one. The mocking tone was back. "Are you going to Diagon Alley for some steak and kidney pie?"

Lupin hastily said goodbye and walked out the door.

And then, the inevitable.

He was continuing down the alley and sensed someone had turned into it far behind him, but was approaching. Lupin turned fast, his wand always at the ready. He hit the man with a stunning spell just as the man aimed one at him, the red shaft of light missing him by a few inches, and the man collapsed. Surely it was an attack--but who had shot first? Then from behind him Lupin heard "Petrificus Totalus!" and he fell stiff and paralyzed onto his face as his wand, knocked from his hand, rolled to the gutter. Someone kicked him over and he saw two Death Eaters standing over him, their wands aimed at his chest. His face was bleeding.

"I don't see any Ministry workers here, do you, Marcus?" Indeed, the dark street seemed empty and quiet.

"I don't see Dumbledore,'' said the other, and they both laughed. "Shall we?" he said.

"No," said the first. "The Dark Lord wants us to save him for Greyback, as an example to the other werewolves."

"But he is in his wolf form at the same time as Greyback."

"Haven't you heard? Greyback will eat a human captive now, even when he's not transformed. Nagini doesn't like it." They laughed again.

These Death Eaters have a terrific sense of humor, thought Lupin.

"He will relish this one. He will take his time, and savor every bite."

"That might hurt. Shall we give him some practice? Crucio!"

Lupin suddenly felt excruciating pain tear through his muscles and bones and throughout his nerves, made worse by the fact that he could not move. Even he could not control the screams of pain that were reaching his mouth, but then it stopped as suddenly as it had started. The two Death Eaters themselves fell over, stunned from behind. McGonagall aimed a wand at Lupin and released him from the Petrificus hex. He stood up shakily and smiled in spite of himself.

"Not bad, Minerva. But how did you--?" Then suddenly he understood, for cats were a frequent sight in Knockturn Alley. But most were black. Wasn't Minerva a tabby?

"Are you alright, Remus?" she said, putting his wand back into his hand.

"Never better," he said, the irony in his tone barely perceptible.

"I'm sorry I can't do more for you," she said, and shrank into something small, furry and black. So she could change her color too.

"Have you been tailing me all this time, Minerva?"

The cat flicked its tail slightly and strolled to the other side of the street, where it walked along the gutter. Something else occurred to him. He only came here in the evenings, when McGonagall could take a break from her duties at the school. He felt warmth returning to his body. Perhaps Dumbledore was not neglecting him as much as he had thought. And he realized that she had transformed back so quickly so that if others came, they would have the advantage of surprise.

He kept her in sight until they reached Diagon Alley. "Minerva?" he said. But she had slipped out of sight. Would she be going to Twelve Grimmauld Place? No, she must be off to Hogwarts, for she lived at the school. He realized how exhausting this must be for her. He felt desperately like talking to someone from the Order. He could not face his lonely rooms again. Would anyone be at headquarters? He had avoided them for months, except for his weekly lack-of-progress reports to Dumbledore. He wanted to know, and wanted them to know, that he was still one of them. Would Tonks be there? She never thought he was a monster. Had he changed? Would she see him any differently now?

He arrived exhausted at the door of number twelve, Grimmauld Place, and tapped on it with his wand. The door opened and he staggered in, falling against a wall to keep standing, and setting off Mrs. Black.

"MONSTER! FILTH! CONTAMINATION! FILTHY BEAST, TRESPASSING IN THE HOUSE OF MY FATHERS!"

"SHUT UP, YOU STUPID BITCH!" roared Lupin back, and he picked up the troll's foot umbrella stand and smashed it into the painting. Mrs. Black let out a blood-curdling scream that reverberated through the empty house, and then became strangely quiet.

At least, he thought the house was empty, but a ghostly figure appeared in the hall. She was not sure whether to approach him, because she thought he was emotionally disturbed, and she was not sure whether her approach would calm him or set him off again.

"Tonks?" he said quietly. "What are you doing here?" Which was a silly question, since he had come there looking for her.

"This is the headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix. I am a member of the Order of the Phoenix. What are you doing here?"

"I am also a member of the Order of the Phoenix. Don't you remember me?" And he smiled, not the smile of a madman, but a warm, natural one.

She was reassured, though she noticed his pallor and the blood on his face. And then they stepped forward and embraced, just like two good friends who were seeing each other for the first time after they had both been through a terrible ordeal. Which was, in fact, what they were. And this seemed so natural that it was hard to believe it had never happened before.

"But what are you doing all alone in this awful place?"

"I stay here whenever I can, in case you might need me and not know where else to find me."

So she cares about me that much, he thought.

She led him by the hand into the next room and helped him lie down on a couch there. She was relieved that he still did not withdraw from her touch. She quickly went upstairs and found some blankets and cloaks to throw over him, because she knew that a traumatized person needed to be kept warm. She had learned some emergency healing in her Auror training, and had some healing herbs stashed in the kitchen. She found the right one and brewed a tea with it, and poured it into a bowl to cool down a bit.

She pulled over a chair and sat near his face. She had seen that his nose was broken, and she mended it with her wand. She washed his face with the tea, which was soothing and not astringent, and she saw the cuts healing and the lines in his face already beginning to relax. She took off his shoes.

Lupin was exhausted beyond measure. Between his forced carousing and his nightmares, he had not had a good night's sleep in months. But as he drifted off, he knew he would have no bad dreams on this night. From the depths of his wolf mind, a memory bubbled to the surface, but this time it was a pleasant one. He was wounded and someone was taking care of him, someone who had no reason to fear him...an animal, perhaps...

When he awoke in the morning he felt much better, though it seemed early. He sat up and noticed some sheets and blankets lying on the floor not far from the couch. It looked as if someone had slept there. It must have been Tonks. She must have slept there in case he needed her. So she cares about me that much, he thought. He needed to find her before she left for work. He hoped she had not left yet.

He walked into the kitchen and she was there grabbing something to eat. When she saw him she smiled, for she was relieved at how much better he looked. She impulsively approached him, and he swept her into a passionate kiss.

"Does this mean you've changed your mind?" she said when she could catch her breath.

"Yes."

She didn't need to know why he had changed his mind, only that he had.

And then, between kisses, "I'm sorry," he said.

"For what? For changing your mind? For kissing me?"

"No. That I didn't do it sooner."

"Marry me?"

"Yes. Oh yes."