Ebb and Flow

London, October 1984

***

Where the bloody hell am I, she thought as she awoke, fiercely rubbing her forehead.

Slowly opening her eyes, she scanned the flat bedroom or hotel room--she was unsure of where she slept. Few pictures and costly paintings covered the pale green walls as she looked for some sign of where she was--wherever it was, it was expensive. I don't remember how I got here, she thought, noticing her clothes in a crumpled pile on the floor, but I know what happened. Stretching, she turned her head to the side and noticed her partner for the night--a man with tousled blond hair--lying on his stomach, his head buried in his pillow. As she yawned, she attempted to remember his name. She was so drunk, so strung out on refined poppy juice, she wondered if she ever knew his name at all. Who the hell is he, she thought as the man continued to snore softly into his pillow. Jake? No, John. No, Jack--that's it, Jack. Right, chatted him up in that private pub Madame White told me about. We left the private pub and entered the opium den upstairs...Bloody hell, I'd thought I'd quit that stuff, she thought, sitting up as she became increasingly queasy.

As she sat up, Jack began to stir. Sitting up, he smoothed the hair away from his handsome face and smiled. "Morning," he murmured happily.

Althea smiled and went to stand.

"Where do you think you're going?" he teased, pulling her back into bed.

He's one of those types, she thought, as she allowed him to pull her back to bed, I should have left earlier. As she rested her head against the pillow, she noticed a tattoo of a skull and snake on his forearm, which caused her stomach to tense; suddenly, she remembered why she was there. He is so handsome too...pity, she thought, frowning slightly. Unfortunately, last night she had become sidetracked with alcohol and refined poppy juice, she had forgotten. This was the first time she had let the intoxicating concoction cloud her mind from her business. She had planned his death like all the others--stalk him, observe his movements, his habits, and then, kill him. His death would be a little different, though, like the filth he was--killing an entire family deserved special treatment. Once drunk, she would entice him with some illicit tryst in a dingy back alley, and slash his throat--leaving him to die among the garbage and grime. Now she had to change her plan--her knife was in her robe pocket and no gutter to leave him to die.

Jack rested his arm across her waist, which allowed her to look at the Dark Mark. I can't believe after all these years he would have something like this and not hide it, she thought as Jack kissed her shoulder. Everyone knows what the Dark Mark looks like--he's either bold or stupid. It hasn't faded, too...not like the others, theirs were almost gone and one was gone.

"Where did you get this?" she asked, stoking his forearm where the Dark Mark was tattooed into his skin.

"Never you mind," he murmured, kissing her collarbone.

"No, it's interesting," she replied, tracing the outline of the skull.

Jack lifted his head and looked into Althea's eyes. "Interesting?" he repeated smugly, smiling at her. "It's more than interesting."

Althea looked from the Dark Mark back to his eyes. "So, it means something very special to you?" she asked, feigning innocence.

"Oh yes," he murmured and kissed her collarbone again.

Althea sighed and pushed him away, causing a visible look of disappointment across his face. "I wish I could, but I have business to attend to," she said regretfully, stroking the hair away from his face.

He sighed and took her hand in his. "I suppose...I could see you again sometime?" he asked and kissed the back of Althea's hand.

"Possibly," she replied, with a slight smile, as she stood.

Jacked rested his head against his propped up hand. "Possibly isn't good enough," he replied smoothly. "You've bewitched me, Miss Martin," he added, smiling smugly.

Althea smiled to herself as she successfully hooked the first bra hook. "I don't think there's such a thing," she said as she had some difficulty with the last hook.

"I disagree, Sadira...what an unusual and lovely name," he replied as Althea picked up her black robes from the soft, moss-colored carpet.

Althea shook her head and smiled at the young man's attitude toward her. "I think you," she began to explain as she slipped her robes over her head, "had too much refined poppy juice," she finished as she cleared the robes over her head.

"No, I don't think so," he replied, smiling, watching as Althea adjusted her robes. "No, I believe it is more sinister."

Althea smiled with feigned innocence. "Sinister?" she questioned, slipping her hand into her robe pocket. Her smile widened as her fingers caressed the knife handle.

Jack nodded. "Yes, sinister," he answered as Althea sat next to him on the bed. Jack took her left hand in his. "How is it that I could miss such an enchanting, sensual, pureblooded witch?" he asked and forcefully kissed the back of her hand.

"You are older than I am," she murmured, leaning closer to him as her other hand slowly pulled out the knife from her robe pocket. "But you haven't described what is sinister."

"You," he replied, pulling her closer.

"Me?" she whispered, allowing her lips to brush lightly across his. She quickly pulled away as she felt his lips meet hers and smiled mischievously.

"Mhmm," he murmured, taking hold of her right arm, causing Althea to loose her grip on her knife--it falling back inside her pocket. He placed her arms around his neck as he continued, "You've cursed me, haven't you? Or put love potion in my wine."

Oh lord, she thought and sighed with small frustration. I should just slit his throat to shut him up.

However, she would not get her chance to silence Jack as his house-elf had entered the bedroom. "Master, Kirby brought you lunch," the elf said as the silver tray shook in his hands.

Jack frowned as he pulled away from Althea and reached for a book on the nightstand. "You accursed elf!" he scolded, retracting his arm to throw the book at the trembling house-elf.

"No!" Althea gasped, grabbing Jack's arm. "It wasn't his fault. He didn't know I'd be here," she implored and Jack dropped the book from his hand. "I should leave anyway; I have so much business to attend to, but I promise we will meet again," she finished and kissed his lips.

"When?" he asked, attempting a casual eagerness in his voice.

"Soon," she smiled as she stood. "I'll owl you for a meeting."

"Tomorrow?"

"Tomorrow, then," she replied and exited the bedroom.

Enjoy your last day, Jack, she thought as she descending the staircase amid Jack's shouting at his house-elf.

***

Althea--disappointed with the missed kill--returned home, but home was no longer the cottage at Northfield. She had left Northfield over two years ago and wandered Britain, sleeping in abandoned nests, under roof awnings, in a few trees, anywhere she could get close to those she tracked. However, after a particularly rough night of drinking, Althea collapsed in front of the Red Rose Inn where a Madame White, noticing that Althea had collapsed in her doorway, took her into her home. That night, a gracious Madame White cared for the drunken Althea and offered her a place of rest in her home. Inebriated and tired, Althea agreed and only discovered, once sober, the Red Rose Inn did not house weary travelers, but was indeed the premier Wizarding brothel of Britain. At first, she was very apprehensive about staying in a brothel, but Madame White assured her she would only be needed for her Healer purposes. Madame White kept her word, and soon Althea saw the benefit of staying in a brothel. She was able to hear information she needed to continue her business. Wizards supplied with alcohol and sex would divulge many secrets--from former Death Eaters, corruption in the Ministry, to what they think of their wives' mothers. Indeed, she would prefer this method of tracking than sleeping underneath a roof awning. However, refusing to lose all dignity and to keep herself safe, Althea refused to tell Madame White her true name or the name she was known by in the Wizarding papers. She gave her name as Sadira Martin, a young disenchanted witch that lost her way in the sometimes cruel Wizarding world.

As she walked upstairs, Althea passed a few of the women entertaining a group of young wizards with song and plying them with drink. How different this life was compared to her life with the Thyra and her life with Gran. I could only imagine what Gran would think if she saw me here, she thought as she ascended the staircase, she'd probably think I was finally in my element. Upon entering her room, she headed for her bathroom, turned on the bathtub tap, and undressed, anticipating the warm and comforting water. She had failed in her attempt to kill Jack. How could she have been so stupid? No, no more refined poppy juice, she thought, gently sliding into the warm bathwater and bubbles. I don't know if I'll ever have that great of an opportunity to kill Jack again.... Why was I so stupid to take refined poppy juice? I don't know how many people saw me with him now. There will be more of a trail this time. How will I accomplish it now? I suppose I will owl him later to meet him...he was very eager. Althea laughed to herself and slipped underneath the soothing bathwater. I expect you do learn something in a brothel.

Surfacing, Althea opened her eyes and noticed Madame White enter her bathroom. She was a woman of average height and average looks, but compensated for her deficiencies by wearing exquisite and expensive robes. Today she wore violet robes that produced silver sparkles across the fabric with every movement.

"Sadira, Sadira, what did you do last night?" she commented in her slow, but refined voice as she sat on the edge of the bathtub.

"I had work," she muttered, smoothing the hair from her face.

Madame White laughed quietly as she took some bubbles from the bathwater into her hand. "Rough work, I see..." she began and gently blew the bubbles from her hands. "But you could always work for me," she added and smiled at Althea.

Althea frowned slightly.

"You're a beautiful girl, Sadira--well, except for that red hair, but that's easily remedied. But you are a beautiful girl--look younger than you are...well, when you're not drunk. No, you would make a lot of money.... Be able to live a lavish lifestyle.... Have the affections of many rich wizards," she explained and stroked the side of Althea's face.

"I don't want the affections of rich wizards," she replied quickly, turning her face away. "I don't want the affections of anyone."

"But isn't that what every witch wants...to marry rich?" she asked, gently turning Althea's face toward hers. "To find love?"

"You don't know me very well, do you?" she replied, refusing to look at Madame White.

Madame White removed her hand from Althea's face and stroked a stray strand of hair behind Althea's ear. "I was like you, Sadira, angry--unbelievably angry at the wizard who abandoned me," she began in earnest, running her fingertips along Althea's jaw. "I took that anger and turned it into power. I decided that my life would be on my own terms. I would never let a man believe he could have me without giving me something in return.... Sadira, there are many who say what I do is wrong, but there are many women each day that do the exact same work as my girls," she explained and stood from where she sat on the edge of the bathtub.

As she walked over to the bench where Althea's towels were neatly folded, she continued, "Marriage is just another form of--oh I abhor the word--prostitution. Yes, there is no difference in what we do and what a wife would do. Men give their wives, and us, money, clothes, jewelry, anything they, and we, want."

Althea watched as Madame White collected her towels and walked back over to the bathtub.

"Actually--I spoke too soon--there is a difference," she continued thoughtfully. "A wife barters for the tokens of affection her husband gives her, and we outright demand it. So in reality, a wife is nothing but a dignified whore."

"That's a horrible thing to say," Althea replied, frowning.

"Think about it. I know what you did last night," she replied, unfolding one of the towels. "You met some handsome wizard down the pub and he took you back to his flat. What did you get out of it, Miss Martin?" she asked, holding up the towel for Althea.

Althea hesitated before she stood. What had she gotten out of it? The opportunity to sleep with not one but two Death Eaters in my life, she thought as she stood, allowing Madame White to wrap the towel around her. Althea wrapped the towel around her hair and slipped her arms through her robe sleeves.

"Come," Madame White said softly and motioned with her hand for Althea to sit at her dressing table. Madame White removed the towel and started to comb Althea's hair. "Has your hair always been this red?" she asked, combing through a particularly tough tangle.

Althea nodded.

"Well, that would be easy to charm away.... I will have you borrow some robes...you look like Lilith's size," she continued to murmur as she combed Althea's hair.

"What are you getting at?" Althea asked, turning to face Madame White.

Madame White smiled with some feigned innocence. "I do this for all my girls," she replied and turned Althea around to continue to brush her hair.

Girls? What? Oh no, no, no, no, she thought as Madame White parted her hair.

"I'm not one of your girls," she replied as Madame White charmed her hair to its natural color of black.

Damn, she's not listening, she thought as Madame White dried her hair. She began to adorn Althea's hair with jeweled barrettes, frowning, removing, and placing them to her liking.

"Black hair is stunning and even more beautiful with barrettes in your hair--less wild, I think," she said, inspecting Althea.

"Thank you, but why are you doing this?" she asked and bit her lip.

Madame White knelt in front of Althea and took her hands in hers. "I need you," she said solemnly, looking into Althea's eyes. "There is someone downstairs that needs you. None of the girls will touch him--afraid of him, I think. He wants company, nothing more, I swear it," she continued and crossed her heart with her index finger. "He's nervous; it's his first time to the Red Rose. Only company, nothing more, Sadira."

"I can't," she replied, looking into the slightly disappointed eyes of Madame White. "There has to be some girl here," she continued, but Madame White shook her head. "There has to be someone."

"No, Sadira," she replied quietly. "He's very handsome, but very lonely."

"If he's handsome, then why--"

"Please, Sadira, I don't ask you to have sex with him. I see that would be too much to ask of you right now, but please, just talk with him," she pleaded, resting her hands on Althea's knees. "That's all they ever want...someone to talk to."

Althea sighed with frustration--Madame White would not accept another refusal. The man needed someone to talk to, he was lonely, and Althea knew the power loneliness could hold over a person. It will be on my terms though, she thought as Madame White waited for her answer.

"How much is it?" she asked, removing Madame White's hands from her lap.

A small smiled played across Madame White's scarlet lips. "Well, that would depend on the services required," she replied, standing and leaning against the dressing table. "Our services range from fifty to five hundred Galleons per hour.... Of course, most wizards pay around a hundred Galleons per hour."

"Five hundred Galleons," she repeated quietly. "Who has that sort of money to throw around?"

"You'd be surprised," she replied, picking up foundation and opening the bottle. "Many foreign dignitaries...had a few princes here...some of the richest wizards in the world."

"How much is it to talk?" she asked as Madame White blended the foundation into Althea's skin.

"Oh, about fifty Galleons," she replied as she finished blending the foundation on Althea's cheeks. "They pay before--of course--and when the time is up, I ask them to leave," she continued as she applied blush to Althea's cheeks.

"I'll pay the fifty Galleons," she said as Madame White stopped to inspect her work.

Madame White frowned as she patted the powder puff into the face powder. "You'll do no such thing," she replied, powdering Althea's nose. "I only take money from customers."

"I'll just pay him back, you know," she replied and attempted not to sneeze from the copious amounts of powder Madame White used.

"I know and if you are that stupid, by all means, do so," she replied as she applied a pale purple eye shadow to Althea's right eye. "But remember this," she continued and applied the eye shadow to the left eye, "he chose you. He could have found it freely in some pub, but he chose to spend his time with you.... It's an honor."

"An honor," she remarked quietly as Madame White applied mascara.

"Yes, an honor," she replied as she finished applying mascara. "Now, I will bring you Lilith's robes and you try them on and I'll take you to that lonely young man," she added, smiling.

Madame White left Althea alone as she went to collect a set of robes from Lilith. What the bloody hell do I think I'm doing, she thought as she turned toward the mirror of her dressing table. At least she did my makeup properly.... Why am I changing the subject? I shouldn't be doing this at all--taking some wizard's money to talk...somehow it will not end that way and I will regret it.... An honor to spend time with me? No, there is no honor there...Why did I agree to this? Did I agree? I don't remember. I think she automatically assumes I'll do it--I have no choice, she thought, further blending her makeup. Is there truly a difference in what I did last night and what they do here? Jack got what he wanted, and I--I didn't. I have to owl Jack, I can't let that go.... I wonder why the other girls wouldn't want to talk with him if he's young and handsome.... Maybe he's incredibly dull or something.

Suddenly the door opened, which broke Althea from her thoughts, and she turned to greet Madame White, who held scarlet robes for Althea to wear for her meeting with the lonely young wizard. Althea sighed and took the scarlet robes from Madame White. This will end horribly...I just know it.

***

"Come on, lift them up," Madame White whispered, motioning with both hands at her chest for Althea to show more cleavage.

Althea frowned and pushed her breasts upward. "Is this suitable?" she whispered back, as they stood outside the door.

"Perfect, Sadira," she replied, smiling. "Oh, I remember my first time," she added with some fondness, applying another coat of scarlet lipstick to Althea's lips. "You're not as nervous as I was."

"You're lying to me, aren't you?" she said, narrowing her eyes as Madame White opened the door. "No, you're lying to me. I'm not going in there!" she whispered heatedly as Madame White took her by the hand.

"I don't lie, now have fun talking!" she whispered back as she shoved Althea into the room.

Althea caught herself from falling forward and winced as Madame White closed the door. What was she supposed to do now? Althea's eyes scanned the ornately decorated room. Gas laps glowed against richly textured scarlet drapes and cast shadows across the multitude of overstuffed violet and scarlet pillows that adorned the floor and large gilded bed. Maybe if I move against the wall I'll blend in, she thought, biting her bottom lip. Continuing to look around the room, she noticed the young wizard sitting on the overstuffed sofa facing the large window with his back toward her. That must be him, she thought, looking at the back of his head. He's here, but what do I do now?

Madame White had not told her what to do, and Althea did not know what those women did in those situations. Should she say hello? Or should she wait until he realized she was there? If she did say hello, how should she say it? Casually? Innocently? Seductively? Inhaling and exhaling a slow, but deep breath, Althea took a step forward, which caused the floorboard to creak loudly underneath her jeweled shoe. The sound startled the young wizard and he quickly turned around to face Althea.

Wide-eyed, Althea took in a sharp, sudden breath. "Remus!" she gasped, not taking her eyes off him as he stood.

The same amount of shock registered across Remus's face as he looked at Althea. "Al--Althea? Althea! What are you doing here?" he replied with great agitation and equal astonishment, walking toward her. "You're not supposed to be here!"

Lightheaded, Althea pointed a shaky finger at Remus. "You're not supposed to be here either!" she admonished, her body trembling.

Oh, how could this get any worse, she thought, closing her eyes. Maybe if I keep them closed and then open them, Remus would go away, this entire room would go away, and I would be in my bed--waking from this mortifying nightmare. Opening her eyes, she frowned as she was still in the room and Remus was still there--his face registering an enormous amount of shame and shock.

Remus furrowed his eyebrows as he gazed at Althea. "You--you work here?" he asked and hesitated before he placed his hand on her shoulder. "What happened?"

"No, no, I don't work here," she replied, violently shaking her head. "I'm her Healer for this establishment, but that's all.... What are you doing here?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.

Remus frowned. "No, what exactly are you doing in this very room?" he asked, looking into her eyes.

"I ask you that very same question, Remus, what exactly are you doing in this very room?" she asked, folding her arms.

Remus's facial expression turned grim. "No, you tell me first, Althea," he said, placing his other hand on her other shoulder. "Please, please tell me you are not one of them."

"I'm not," she replied and sniffed Remus's breath--it reeked of alcohol. "Have you had something to drink?" she asked, furrowing her eyebrows.

"Yes, yes, just a little," he answered quickly, waving his hand at her dismissively.

Althea's eyes glanced at the table next to the sofa on which a half-empty bottle of wine rested with an empty glass. "You've had more than a little," she remarked, frowning slightly. "Remus Lupin, I don't believe you," she said with astonishment. "What has happened to you?"

"What has happened to you? You're in a brothel--"

"So are you," she snorted, breaking away from him. "Bloody hell this is awful!" she remarked, rubbing her forehead. "Oh, why am I wearing this awful lipstick!" she shouted, taking a handkerchief from her robe pocket. After wiping the lipstick off her lips, she continued, "Remus, what are you doing here? You don't belong in a place like this."

Remus rested his hands on her shoulders once more. "Is there somewhere we could go?" he asked, looking into her eyes.

Althea noticed an enormous amount of sadness in his eyes. "Yes, of course, is everything all right?" she asked with concern, taking his hands off her shoulders.

"No, Althea, but there is a place?" he reassured, taking her hands in his.

"Yes, my bedroom--it's upstairs.... You're not in trouble, are you?" she asked as she led him toward the door.

"It's a different sort of trouble," he answered as they left the room.

"You didn't bite someone?" she asked as the two walked the staircase to her bedroom.

"No, I didn't."

"You didn't get a girl pregnant?"

Remus laughed quietly for a moment. "No, I didn't.... I'll tell you when we are in your room," he explained as they reached the top of the staircase.

What sort of trouble could he be in, she thought, as she unlocked her bedroom door. If it's financial--that is no problem. I'll pay for anything.... Oh, Remus, please be all right...let one of us be all right. Althea led Remus to her bed and motioned for him to sit down.

Remus sighed sadly and looked around Althea's bedroom. "It's not as ornate as downstairs," she said uneasily and bit her lip. "Remus, what is--"

"Why were you in that room?" he interrupted, turning his attention back to Althea.

"Oh," she began, rubbing her hands together, "Madame White told me that, what turned out to be you, needed someone to talk to and nothing more. The other girls were busy, so she asked me. That was the first time I've ever done something like that, Remus, I swear. I'll pay you back for it, too."

"Don't lie to me, Althea, the other girls weren't busy," he replied, running his hands through his light brown hair. "I saw the fear and the repulsion on their faces.... I felt it."

Althea frowned, lowering her head. "It's true, the girls were afraid, but she didn't tell me why," she explained quietly, watching as the light from the gas lamps caught in the jewels of her shoes and sparkled. "But why were you here? I thought you were in Borneo?" she asked, turning her attention toward Remus.

"I was, but I had to come back," he replied bitterly, a deep crease forming between his eyebrows.

"Why? Did something happen?" she asked, sliding herself closer to him.

Remus, refusing to look at her, inhaled a slow, steady breath and frowned as he exhaled. "I was marked this afternoon," he answered grimly, still looking away from her.

Althea did not understand. What did he mean by marked?

"'Marked?'" she repeated, furrowing her eyebrows. "Remus, look at me, I'm not sure if I understand."

"What is there to understand?" he snapped as he looked at her. "I was branded like an animal."

Althea opened and quickly closed her mouth, realizing she could say nothing. Remus was never one for pity.

"I was so stupid, Althea. I actually thought I had a chance of living a normal life, but now--now I realize what a fool I was," he continued, the frown deepening across his face. "All anyone will ever see is the W on my wrist...I saw it downstairs.... The man at the Registry said this was a good place to go for company and that I'd need it after I was marked--said they wouldn't refuse anyone.... He was wrong. I saw the fear, the horror, that one of them would have to touch me," he finished, his face contorting as if the words tasted bitterly in his mouth.

"Let me see your wrist," she said softly, reaching for both of his hands.

"So you could feel pity for me? No," he replied, quickly retracting his hands.

"Come on, let me see it," she demanded, holding out her hand.

"No, Althea, I won't show you.... It's not important," he replied, looking away from her.

"Not important? You're just being stupid now," she said shortly and grabbed his wrist, hoping it was the wrist with the mark.

She could feel Remus's wrist tense in her hand and she knew she had the correct wrist. Carefully, she slid her fingers underneath his cuff and uncovered his wrist. Althea, heavily biting her bottom lip, refused to show him her repulsion as she looked at the red, raised W burnt into his pale skin. Oh my God, she thought, fighting to maintain her composure, they've treated him like cattle.

"Nothing more than a monster," he muttered with disgust, grabbing Althea's hand and releasing it from his wrist. Remus roughly stood and refused to face her. "I should leave. I was wrong in coming here," he said, shoving his hands in his robe pockets.

"No," she replied as she stood. "Please don't leave. I don't know when I'll be able to see you again. Please stay," she pleaded quietly, holding onto his sleeve.

"Althea, I--"

"Don't argue," she interrupted, grasping his sleeve tighter.

"Althea, don't tell me what I can and cannot do!" he snapped, pulling his arm away from her.

Althea took in a sharp intake of breath at Remus's outburst. Why would he push her away from him? I can't help him, she thought as her arms went limp at her sides, but I can't let him leave. She had to think of something to keep him there. He was angry and drunk, and Althea knew that one could do terrible things when angry and drunk.

"Wait!" she called out, her voice shaking. She cleared her throat before asking, "How was Borneo?"

Remus stopped and refused to turn around. "Hot, now goodbye," he answered shortly and continued toward the door.

Althea frowned--he usually loved to talk of his travels. She had to think of something else to keep him there. I pray this works, she thought, looking up at the carved designs in the ceiling.

Althea took a deep breath and released it as she spoke, "Remus, I'm lonely."

His hand reaching for the doorknob, stopped--Althea knew it was working. "I think we all are. Now goodbye," he replied, his hand resting on the doorknob.

"No, I'm lonely."

"I'm sure you could find someone here to take care of that," he remarked, turning the doorknob.

"I want you," she blurted out and waited for Remus's reaction.

Remus rested his forehead against the door. "Althea, don't--"

"That's why you're here, why you came to the Red Rose, to remember how it feels to be a man," she interrupted, walking toward him. "Isn't it?"

Remus, still facing the door, nodded.

"But you are a man," she said, stopping behind him.

Remus let go of the doorknob and turned to face her. A bitter smile played across his lips. "I'm not," he replied, looking into her eyes. "I won't keep you any longer. Goodbye, Althea."

"Don't reach for that doorknob," she demanded, pointing her index finger at his arm.

"You can't keep me here," he laughed, running his fingers through his slightly unkempt hair.

Althea frowned. "Yes I can," she replied, taking out her wand. She cast a charm to lock the door, and as Remus took out his wand to unlock the door, she uttered, "Expelliarmus."

His wand flew from his hand into hers, and she quickly stuffed both wands into her robe pocket.

"Now you will listen to what I have to say," she continued as Remus frowned. "You are a man. It's one night a month, Remus, just one night," she explained, taking hold of his hand. "Think of all the other nights you're like this," she said as she led him over to her bed.

Remus sighed with frustration as he sat next to Althea on her bed. "Althea, I've lived with this since I was eight. I reckon I know more--"

"Dumbledore could have given up on you, but he didn't. He knew you weren't some animal or monster--bloody hell, he made you a prefect," she interrupted, not taking her eyes off him.

"That's Dumbledore...he's unconventional," he replied, folding his hands in his lap.

Althea moved closer to him as Remus, frowning, continued to look at his hands in his lap. "What about your friends who knew before you even told them? They accepted you and became Animagi so the transformations wouldn't be as difficult."

"Obviously you forgot that Sirius used me to play a prank on Snape," he remarked darkly.

"I could never forget that," she replied quietly and bit her lip. "Did you forget about Iphigenia?" she asked, sliding closer to him. "She loved you."

Remus's expression turned grim. "She wouldn't be dead if I wasn't a werewolf."

"What about me?"

"What about you?"

Althea sighed with frustration. "I knew and I dated you," she reminded, kicking her heel against the lush carpet.

Remus shook his head. "You don't count, though."

Althea's heel slammed against the carpet. "I don't count? Why would you say such a thing?" she asked, swallowing hard.

"Your father...he wrote a book."

Althea's eyes widened. "So? You think I dated you out of some obligation to him?" she asked heatedly, standing. "Out of pity for you?"

"Possibly," he muttered.

"Possibly?" she repeated with astonishment.

She tightly closed her eyes to prevent her crying. She opened to her eyes to see Remus with his head bent, sitting motionless on her bed.

"Here, take you wand back and go," she said, throwing his wand at him and then unlocking the door. She turned away from him and folded her arms.

She heard the creak of her bed as Remus stood. "Althea," he murmured, placing his arms on her shoulders.

Althea quickly turned around and pushed his arms away from her. "No, get away from me, werewolf! Is that what you want me to say?" she replied--her throat aching.

"I'm sorry--I didn't mean--I'm not myself," he attempted to explain soothingly.

Althea lowered her head--refusing to look at him. "I dated you because I fancied you.... I lost my virginity to you," she replied, running her fingertips through her hair. "Just because you regret it, doesn't mean that I do."

She looked into Remus's eyes. He inhaled a sharp breath.

"Obviously it doesn't mean the same to you."

Remus took her hands in his. "No, Althea, our time together means everything to me," he insisted and kissed her folded fingers. "I had never kissed a girl before you--don't laugh," he said, lifting her chin with his hand.

"Sorry," she whispered, sniffing back tears.

Remus cupped his hand to the side of her face. "You made me feel like a normal teenage boy, almost allowing me to forget what I was.... Thank you," he said softly, staring into her eyes.

Althea held her breath as Remus's head jerked forward slightly, but he retracted it and frowned.

"Come on, let's sit down. I have something to tell you," he said, taking her hand and leading her toward her bed.

Althea sighed disappointedly as she sat next to him. He was about to kiss me, she thought, making herself comfortable on the bed.

Smoothing out her robes, Althea gazed at the very pale, very pensive Remus. "What do you have to tell me?" she asked, gently pressing his hand.

"I want to tell you how it all happened," he said, looking into her eyes. "How I became what I am."

"Oh," she murmured and furrowed her eyebrows somewhat.

Hadn't Remus told her? He must have told her at one point in their friendship. However, upon further thinking, she realized Remus had never told her about how he came to be a werewolf. It was something she always knew that had happened, but never asked. Would he have told her if she had asked? Probably not, she thought, attempting to look thoughtful.

Remus took a deep breath and shifted his gaze from her eyes. "I was eight when it happened," he began, rubbing the tops of her hands with his thumbs. "My parents had bought me a telescope for my birthday, and I'd spend almost every night looking at the stars. Of course, there were certain nights I couldn't go outside, so I'd have to look at the full moon from my bedroom window.... I had read about a meteor shower and I was very excited to see it with my new telescope; however, my father had forbidden me from setting up my telescope outside. He said that I could wait one night, and that there would be another meteor shower the next month..." he continued and paused--his expression dark and solemn. "I didn't listen.... I snuck outside with my telescope, and all was fine until...until I heard the awful growling.... I panicked and started to run, but he--"

"He?" Althea repeated quietly and Remus nodded slowly.

"He caught me.... I screamed for help as he started to drag me away.... I thought I was dead...."

Althea stopped listening to Remus's story about the werewolf bent on revenge against Remus's father and closed her eyes. The memory of the wizard brought to St. Mungo's after he was attacked by a werewolf, flashed across her eyelids. She remembered helping the Healer on the ward with restraints as the wizard thrashed about his bed. She remembered the fear and terror in his eyes, and the screaming as his body started to contort into its wolfish shape. After the first transformation, too horrific for the wizard to bear, he hung himself after leaving St. Mungo's. Althea could never imagine how an eight-year-old boy could have survived such an awful transformation.

"The transformations were awful until--"

"Until Hogwarts," she interrupted, returning to the conversation.

"Yes," he replied, nodding his head.

"How are your transformations now?" she asked and gently bit her bottom lip.

"Awful," he replied, making a face. "I'm alone now when I make them."

Althea caught her breath from the surge of excitement. For the first time in months, she felt true joy--she would transform with Remus. However, she was a raven and not a large dog, but it was better than transforming alone. He could not refuse; her presence would help ease his transformation. It would still be awful, but she would be there to help him. Her mind rapidly sorted out the plan--she could travel with him, help him in his research, and eventually they might marry. Borneo, now there's one place I haven't been, she thought, attempting to suppress a smile.

"You don't have to be," she began, her excitement apparent her voice. "Take me with you."

Remus blinked. "What?"

Althea smiled. "Take me with you, to Borneo," she answered eagerly, squeezing his hand. "I want to come with you. I could stay with you when you transform and then look after you. I know how you can't cook, but I can," she explained rapidly, shaking and dizzy from excitement. "I could help you in your research...please."

Remus furrowed his eyebrows. "Althea..." he began quietly, looking into Althea's eyes. "I--I can't take you with me."

"Why not?" she asked quickly, somewhat hurt and shocked he would not take her offer.

"Just know that more than anything I want to take you with me, but I can't. I just can't."

Althea lowered her head. How could he refuse her plan? Did he enjoy transforming alone? If he said it was awful, then why wouldn't he want me there, she thought, fighting tears.

"Then why don't you?" she asked and roughly wiped the tears away as they collected in the corners of her eyes.

"I wish I could," he replied, lifting her chin with his fingertips. "However, I'm unable to take you with me...I'm sorry," he added, softly caressing her cheek.

Althea removed Remus's hand from her face. "I know what it is. You get so close and then you have to push everyone away."

Remus frowned. "Althea--that's not true--I--"

"Yes, it is. You did it when we were fifteen. You did it after Iphigenia died. You did it after James and Lily died--you left the entire hemisphere then--and you're doing it now," she interrupted, not removing her gaze from his saddened eyes. "Stop running away from people that love you."

Remus sighed as he brought his hand back to her cheek. "I'm not running away from you, Althea," he said solemnly, his thumb gently stroking her cheek. "I want to be with you. I should never have left all those years ago. I should have stayed with you, married you, and helped you raise your daughter."

"Then why didn't you?"

"Because I thought it was me," he began, taking his hand from her face. "I thought that I was being repaid for any happiness I ever felt by being a part of something. I mean, who ever heard of a happy and accepted werewolf?" he continued and shook his head. "You are right. I was afraid. I didn't want anything to happen to you, so all those years ago I did run away, but you did, too. We all did."

"Then don't run away now," she replied, looking at her hands in her lap.

"There's a reason I can't be with you," he said, taking her hands in his hands. "When the Ministry passed the law to mark all werewolves, it also passed another law...I'm unable to...to...."

Althea raised her head. "To marry," she finished and Remus nodded. "But that is all a myth--I think I'm proof of that. There isn't proof that children would be born werewolves, and I can't even have children. We'll be in Borneo and we don't even need to marry. I'll stay with you as a friend."

"It doesn't matter to the Ministry. It denied a case while I was there waiting--one that would be similar to ours."

"Forget the Ministry."

"Althea?"

"No, forget them, forget the Ministry. You deserve every right to be happy and to lead a happy life," she said angrily. "We could blackmail them--there's so much corruption. I hear about it all the time here," she continued and suddenly her eyes widened. "I know, I'll take compromising photographs of high-ranking Ministry officials--loads of them come here. I reckon their wives would like to see what they do at lunchtime."

Remus smiled at Althea. "It's a sweet gesture, but--"

"But what?" she interrupted. Her plan would work.

"Althea, it doesn't matter what you or I want," he said, refusing to look at her. "I've had to live with this for a good part of my life. It is something you have to get used to...don't waste your life on a werewolf."

"But you're not--"

"I am, Althea," he replied gravely, "I am a werewolf."

"But you're also a man, Remus, and I wouldn't waste my life..." she replied and paused.

Suddenly she frowned at the thought that maybe Remus did not want her. It was possible--look at what she had become. Who would want her as a friend or a companion? It would be justified that he did not want her anymore in his life--that he did not want her to spend transformations with him, or to travel through Borneo with him.

"Maybe you don't want me," she said quietly.

"No, that's not true, Althea."

"Then what is it? Look at me, look where I am," she replied, looking around her bedroom. "Why couldn't I see it before?" she asked herself and laughed quietly. "You'd waste yourself on me."

Remus rested his hands against her shoulders. "You are not a waste," he replied, looking into her eyes. "If the Ministry discovers that you are even living with me, as a friend, I'll be sent to Azkaban."

"Oh, come on," she sighed quietly.

"It's the truth.... There was legislation to prevent werewolves from leaving the country, but that failed. I'm sure that will succeed one day as well," he explained, stroking a stray strand of hair out of her face. "No one wants to fight for the werewolf anymore. They're so afraid of what happened during Voldemort happening again.... I wasn't the only child bitten--I just survived."

"Then it would make sense to give you rights instead of taking them away," she replied, frowning.

Remus smiled weakly. "It would, but the Ministry sees taking my liberties away as ensuring the safety of the Wizarding community."

"They're not addressing the problems that caused the revolt in the first place.... They're so bloody stupid."

Remus sighed and lay back on her bed. "They're afraid," he said, staring at her ceiling. "Fear can make people believe anything, forget everything, and allow anything to be passed."

Althea turned toward him on her bed. "You're the least frightening person I know."

Remus covered his mouth as he yawned. His transformation was two days ago, he must still be very tired, she thought as she watched Remus absentmindedly scratch the side of his face.

"You didn't think so when I chased you through the forest," he replied, resting his hands behind his head.

"No, I was very frightened, but I was more frightened for you," she said, crawling closer to him on the bed.

"How so?"

"If you would have bit me, or worse, you'd never forgive yourself," she explained, playing with sleeve of her robes.

"True," he murmured, closing his eyes and then opening them very wide.

Althea knew he was fighting off sleep. "Are you tired?"

"Oh, no, no," he replied, waving his hand lazily in the air. "I do get a bit drowsy when I have a glass or two of wine."

"Remus, you drank half a bottle," she replied and giggled.

"I suppose I did," he agreed and smiled to himself. "I was very nervous."

Althea laughed. "You were expecting more than talking, weren't you?" she remarked and Remus waved his hand again. "I'm sorry to be such a disappointment for your money."

"Oh, you're not a disappointment, but I would like my money back," he replied and winked.

"You want to have a go, then?" she asked teasingly and nodded her head toward the bed.

Remus frowned and shook his head. Althea sighed and frowned as well.

"Anyway, what were you thinking when you were chasing me?" she asked, lying next to him. "Were you thinking?"

Remus nodded. "I wanted to devour you.... To tear you apart," he replied, turning onto his side. "Believe me, I would have if you hadn't transformed."

"I don't doubt that," she replied with mild repulsion. The thought of Remus snacking on her bones caused her to shiver. "Where do you transform now?"

Remus covered his mouth as he yawned. "I have a shed," he replied and yawned again. "I magically lock myself in the shed until sunrise.... It's reinforced," he murmured, closing his eyes. "Sometimes, I'm so tired...I sleep there...."

Althea yawned as well. "I suppose I am that boring for you to fall asleep," she whispered, and smiled as she looked at Remus sleeping soundly next to her.

Carefully, she rolled off her bed, took the spare blanket from her sofa, and placed it over him. He's had an awful day, she thought, slipping back into bed. I'll let him stay here as long as he needs to stay. Althea quietly turned onto her side and observed Remus as he slept. Sleeping on his side, his hands were propped underneath his head, with his right leg extended--almost dangling--off the bed. Stifling her laughter as she watched his mouth twitch, her mind drifted to the conversation about his first transformation.

He was eight-years-old when he received his bite. Althea could not imagine and did not want to imagine the stress and fear he, as a young boy, must have felt with every transformation. How could a parent or anyone explain to an eight-year-old what would happen to him? The average age of a werewolf bite was thirty-six. Moreover, the quality of life for the average werewolf was so poor that most did not live for another five years. The average age of death for a werewolf was forty. Remus lived outside of the statistics, and Althea knew he would never become one--his survival instincts were too strong. It could have come from his natural demeanor or it could have come from being bitten so young--Althea did not know. However, she did know that where Remus excelled, she failed. He had gone through the same trials--the same events as she had--with an enormous burden, and remained the same calm, strong person she had always known. She, on the other hand, had become a loathsome, pathetic excuse for a human being.

"You're not a waste, Remus," she whispered, closing her eyes. "I don't deserve you."