Wolfmother

Summary: Some OCs and definitely AU. I hated the canon pairings just as much as I hated the Dursleys, so this is a "from the beginning" classic re-do, but I will take suggestions for future pairings, the more outrageous the better! I'm just trying to make the charcters more…"real", in my own way. It's a lot better inside, I promise! Give us a chance :]

Disclaimer: I don't own anyone except for Aubrey, Aisling McKinnon and Algernon Crowley. The rest belong to the lovely J.K. Rowling.

Prologue.

"Evans, just leave it. There isn't anything you can do for the kid anymore…"

The scent of blood and burnt flesh permeated through the air thickly, choking its occupants and rising bile from their throats. A young woman with dark red hair knelt before a smaller form of a slight tallish youth, adding pressure to a wound on her stomach. Blood flowed freely through her fingers. It was fruitless endeavor, but she had to try.

Glazed grey eyes were half open in a grimace of pain, but a few words managed to escape pale blood-stained lips. "A-aisling…I can't die here….not yet…"

Tears welled up in Lily's eyes, and her green gaze locked with silver, both steeled in determination. "I will have to move you back to Hogwarts Aubrey, you might not survive the trip if you're moved…but if we don't move you…you will surely die," Lily explained, voice hard.

"Aisling..cuppord under the…sink…disillusioned…" she weezed, clutching Lily's had hard as it pressed into the wound, it made an uncomfortable sound, both hands slick with blood.

Lily nodded towards Sirius who immediately spurred into action. Sure as day, under the ordinary muggle kitchen sink, there was a small auburn haired infant, wrapped in a wet blanket asleep, covered by a disillusionment charm. Sirius had to admire the kid's quick thinking and innate protective instincts.

The somnolence charm to ensure the child didn't give herself away by crying or crawling out, the water to mask her scent and a warming charm to prevent hypothermia. He was slightly surprised she hadn't thought to place a cushioning charm on the floor, he mused wryly as he countered the disillusionment charm on the child in his arms.

"We've got her, let's get McKinnon out of here Evans."

Lily nodded again, and focused on the girl in her arms. It was a risky gamble, but she had no choice but to put Aubrey in a stasis spell and try to move her via portkey to the hospital wing. She had no other alternative but to hope the impact upon arrival didn't jostle her enough to worsen the wound, and that the stasis charm(not intended for human beings) held long enough to reach the mediwitch.

Molly Weasley, fairly round with her sixth child, struggled to keep up with her boisterous two year old twins who were currently running amok in her kitchen, causing mischief and chaos wherever they went. Often times she felt like wringing their adorable little hyperactive necks.

"Frederick Gideon Weasley! George Fabian Weasley! Get in here this INSTANT!" she shrilled, chest heaving.

Fred and George, although they were only two years old, knew they were in DEEP trouble when their mother called them by their full names in that tone of screech. Percy Weasley, who was only five, also knew this and smiled thinly behind his hand, as he unsuccessfully tried to smother the grin forming about his face.

Alright, so maybe he had set up the twins by painting on hallway walls again after their mother had made them wash it last week. But they had put blueberry jam between the pages of his favorite story in the Beedle Bard. The pages stuck together in a gooey mess and wouldn't unstick. The book was utterly ruined, and he'd cried for hours. Mum had fixed it with a wave of her wand, but he's still spent full two-hours mourning his loss and he was certain that it was only the beginning of what would set a pattern of long childhood suffering and future trauma that would scar him forever. Unbeknownst to both him and his parents he was actually quite right.

There was a loud crack, and suddenly his godfather Fabian stood in the middle of the kitchen holding a little girl with long auburn hair and huge scared purple eyes. Fred and George came waddling warily in search of their mother, joined Percy at the kitchen table.

"Molly! Molly, where are you lass?" he hollered, turning around to take notice of them. He have them all a wide smile "Hello you lot, been causing your mum mischief again have you?"

The three giggled, ambling closer to greet their Uncle. Soon three small forms were launching themselves at his legs, peering curiously up at the little girl in his arms. By now she was beyond frightened and had started crying in small distressed mewls of misery.

"Och, lassie we'll have none of that now love…" Fabian fretted, completely at loss at what to do with a blubbering child.

"Oh for Merlin's sake Fabian, give her here," Molly groused, making her appearance at last and releasing the child from his arms, bouncing her slowly while making soothing noises.

"I was sent to ask you if you could watch the wee bairn for a few hours. Marlene was attacked at her home last night. She didn't make it Moll, I'm sorry. Aubrey is being treated to at Hogwarts, but it looks grim at best. Greyback tore into her like a butcher, och Molly…the lass is so slight…but she's got the fight in her she does," he explained, cooing at the child and giving Molly a sympathetic glance.

Molly, eyes misty, sniffled. Marlene had been a good friend. She had been a few years above her at Hogwarts but they had fought back to back for many years during this long war and they had endured two preganancies together and were near sisters in affection at the very least. She would be sorely missed. Molly herself was godmother to the eldest McKinnon child, Aubrey. Marlene was her own Bill's godmother.

"Those poor children. The fate that waits at her recovery isn't a pleasant alternative either. Merlin, will we ever get any relief?" she was crying freely now, her heart set a-flutter with worry. She couldn't remove the picture of her poor beautiful goddaughter, broken and fighting for her life on that hospital bed from her mind. She shivered, a strangled sob escaping her lips.

Fabian moved over to his younger sister and gave her a one armed hug. Molly patted his arm and brushed away her tears with the back of her hand, all three boys had now crowded around her instead, asking in small innocent pleas "mama don't cryyy," stroking her side with tiny concerned hands and crinkled little freckled faces.

"I'll be right as rain in no time my loves, you remember Aisling, yes? She's come to play with you a bit for the day so be sure to be nice to her alright boys?" she said setting the child down onto the floor.

She hid behind Molly's legs and peered at the boys nervously.

Fred and George smiled at her brightly in encouragement.

It was rather infectious, so she smiled back toothily.

Aubrey Morgana McKinnon did fight. Her amethyst eyes bulged wildly and her teeth gritted through the pain. It was not a normal wound and didn't take to regular methods of healing very well. She was over-stuffed with blood replenishing potions and clotting charms, but the wound still wouldn't fully close. So far they had managed to stop the bleeding.

At least she was stable now. Stable enough for Pomfrey to bring her back. Stable enough to be lucid. Stable enough to rationalize that she was now a werewolf and that Lily Potter had saved her life. Dosed as she was on painkillers, the wound still smarted, a burning sensation crept over a vast expanse of her abdomen and side, but she tried to bare it in stride.

Werewolves have a naturally fast metabolism and healing capacity, so in a few hours the wound would seal itself insofar that she would be able to move around, if albeit gingerly and in three days' time would be nothing more than an ugly silver scar that she would bare for life.

"Mrs. Potter…" she called softly, irritated by her own physical weakness.

"Oh Aubrey, call me Lily like you always have…" Lily murmured affectionately, smoothing down the younger woman's sweat dampened brow.

"My mother…she's dead, isn't she?" Aubrey asked bluntly, eyes solemn and pained.

Lily, nodded tearfully and took Aubrey's thin hands in her own.

Aubrey nodded, looking away.

"Before my father died, last year…we knew this would happen. It's part of the Crowley curse afterall. We've taken precautions…as of now…I'm going to be Aisling's mother and sister. I'm all she has left…but Lily Potter…I owe you a life debt for saving my life. Beyond that, I owe you an honor debt for saving Aisling…I will never forget what you've done for us this day,for as long as I hold breath in this body," she vowed with such a quiet and grave intensity that Lily sat up straighter into her chair, the hairs in the back of her neck prickling.

How could this small 16 year old child take care of an infant? Much less raise it on her own? Lily could still remember little Aubrey McKinnon as a tiny first year Slytherin, following her and Severus around in sheer idol-worship. Slytherin had made her hard; as a bastard of a well-known pureblood line and a half-blood, the Slytherin house had not been kind to her. Severus Snape had astonishingly taken her under his wing and protected her during her first year, but after Snape's graduation she'd been alone in a house with very few allies. Lily had been afraid it would break her.

They'd kept correspondence over the years, but Lily knew that even after her own falling-out with Snape, that Aubrey and Severus were thicker than thieves. Their passion for potion-making was what first brought them together of course, and the star-struck idol worship Aubrey had once fostered for Snape grew into academic appreciation, and as a Slytherin her ambition had always been to surpass him.

So it was really no surprise to her at all to find a frantic Severus Snape outside of the Hospital Wing, his nerves set to a thinly veiled mess as they waited on news. Of course, you'd never be able to tell from looking at him. His face was stoic and cold as ever, but Lily had known him as a child and she saw the small fine tremors that shook his hands. He'd noticed her looking and immediately shoved them into his robe pockets, glaring at her venomously. Order member or not, he was still incredibly unpleasant and their previous friendship was too shattered to ever hope to repair. Aubrey notwithstanding.

"It's silly really, since it's been such a long time since you were a small firstie, but I still feel responsible for you duckie," Lily said with a small laugh.

Aubrey didn't laugh back; her eyes softened with obvious affection but somehow managed to look both grave and affectionate all at once. "Listen Lily, I know everyone think that the Crowley curse is all rubbish that we've made up…and my father was a bloody coward…but he was no liar. It's real Lily." Aubrey's infamous purple eyes seemed to glow despite the light filtering through the numerous windows in the hospital wing.

"Crowley's have been infamous for dabbling into necromancy for centuries. Once, one of my mad ancestors Alistair Crowley summoned a high level demon in a dark blood ritual. Obviously he was unable to control it…and in order to punish House Crowley for its arrogance it cursed the blood of his descendants with The Eyes of the Suffering. We can see shades and regrets, and...it forces us to carry out their last wishes. Most times we get paid in other services…but these eyes grant us viewings. We can see omens of death Lily."

It was bloody ridiculous, but somehow she knew that Aubrey meant every word, and that beyond a shadow of a doubt…that this was true. The implications of this little history lesson weren't lost on her. She knew what Aubrey wanted to say.

"What about James?" Lily asked, hand going to her swelling stomach. She was only four months along, and she was starting to show.

Aubrey shook her head, pained and took a shuddering breath, "but the child in your womb survives you both."

"They made you god mother? Fucking seriously? You're not even legal yet," Sirius Black whined, tiptoeing across the shady wooden platform dais to help down Aubrey.

Aubrey scoffed at his outstretched hand and jumped off, landing gracefully on her feet. There was something to be said for a werewolf's superior strength and agility. For all that Sirius sounded annoyed, he smelled pleased.

"Don't get your knickers in a twist Padfoot, it's months away, and Harry hasn't even been born yet," she said in her usual flat monotone, her tone mocking when she used his infamous marauder name.

"So have… your N.E.W.T. results come in yet?" he asked distractedly, he was acting in as her "guard" while she picked up Aisling from the Weasley's for the day, but really they were partners for most of the order's scout missions and were often in each other's company for sport rather than duty.

"Not yet, but Master Alchemist Croll has me working in the apothecary during day hours and has allowed me the larger of the two apprentice rooms so that I can move in with Aisling. Severus is moving his things to the smaller room as we speak," she explained, the sun was just sinking overhead the horizon and the faded cobblestone road was bathed in a golden red glow.

It had been four months since that fateful day. Lily and Aubrey had managed to reestablish their previous acquaintance and had become fast friends. Although they had been in correspondence since Aubrey's second year it wasn't quite the same to write back and forth with a child and being able to relate to the young woman Aubrey had become, however much that she was mature for her short years.

Sirius simply couldn't get over the fact that not only was there a person who tolerated Snivellus, but he actually had friends. One friend, he amended, but still! The fact boggled his mind.

Once Aubrey was up and about Snape had rushed to her bedside, and was scarce seen away from it for long. He was the one that suggested she take her N.E.W.T.s two years early and appeal to his Master for a potions apprenticeship. It would be a tight fit, but in the end the alternative had ranged between concealing her lycanthropic condition and attending two more years of Hogwarts while raising an increasingly hyperactive two(and a half!) year old little girl or taking the quiet apprenticeship and transforming in the cellar of the old Croll Manor.

She had painstakingly crammed for her Arithmancy, Ancient Runes, Transfiguration, Herbology, Charms, Defense Against the Dark Arts, Care of Magical Creatures and, of course, Potions N.E.W.T.s. It was a strain on her mind and it corroded at her meager energies, having recently only just escaped the mad studying for her O.W.L.s only months before being bitten, dealing with the adjustment to her non-human status, her premature enmancipation(both muggle and magical) as well learning the ropes of parenthood.

Her relief was physically palpable once she had sat through the very last N.E.W.T. She was fairly certain that after near five months of incessant studying and (separate) help from Lily, Severus and James she would pass her N.E.W.T.s just as well as she had done in her O.W.L.s (all Os and just one E). Well, maybe not quite as well…but enough to agreeably enter her Mastery Apprenticeship with something beyond the bare minimum requirement. That, at the very least, she was confident in.

In spite of the strain of the last few months, she was at the top of her class at Hogwarts and quite an accomplished potioneer in her own right and she would see it through. She was a Slytherin: she would endure and exceed even her own expectations.

Now she just had to gather whatever Gryffindor courage she had managed to rub off of the Potters and Sirius in order to tell her Aunt Molly that she would be blood adopting her younger sister to prevent Wizarding Authorities from removing her from Aubrey's care. Never mind that it was an outdated, borderline dark pureblood ritual that was dubious and sketchy at best with possibly unknown ramifications.

Remus Lupin was more notoriously known for his quiet, if slightly bookish nature, and most prominently for his serene calm forbearance. So, when Albus Dumbledore had assigned him the mission of infiltrating and swaying the werewolf packs of the London underground he wasn't sure he had the qualifications to play Alfa to the sheer fucking numbers he encountered there.

Strange, to think Remus John Lupin cursing, but really…what other resource was left to him? It was a bloody insane plan. They were clutching at straws, splitting hairs as it were. This war had dragged on long and hard, and they had lost too many of their numbers. It was coming to a close, and the noose was tightening fast around the Order's neck no matter how optimistic they wanted to pretend to be. They were near fucked is what they were and Remus could feel the desperation pooling in his mouth like the acrid metallic taste of blood on a fullmoon.

He hadn't seen the marauders and Lily in months, and seldom slept in his flat anymore. He couldn't possibly hope to pay his rent any longer, and would probably loose it. Because when Dumbledore said "London Underground", your first thought would be the subway system, wouldn't it? Wrong.

The London Werewolf Underground was at least eight stories below the regular London Undergound, where the churning and speeding trains made for a conveniently excellent sound buffer for the writhing serpentine labyrinth that was the vast Lycan City bustling beneath it like a thumping heart. The way in was at the very heart of the London Underground, in a permanently out of order Men's Room that would and could only open to lycanthropes, which the door verified by pricking very subtly(like a paper cut) once you touched it.

Because what wizards and witches failed to realize is that werewolves, while born human and humanoid in appearance, were not (in fact) human after infection set in. Werewolves had longer lives, superior senses, superior strength and reflexes as well as an innate wild magic that was nothing like that of a human. Which is why muggles, like in the case of vampires, could be turned and still possess a magic all of their own, because while werewolves and vampires and other "dark" creatures are often labeled as such…their magic wasn't truly "dark" in the evil sense of the word…it was more of a "wild" magic. It adhered to no scriptures or rules and followed no conceivable patterns of "order" in the way light magic is oft to do. Werewolves' wild magic had no conduit…and in the case of magical Wares, then they had the ability to perform both wild and light magic, although their wild magic often manifested in unpredictable and uncontrolled ways.

The underground city was like a giant underground forest of sorts with sprawling trees that seemed to stretch for miles, and the truth was that the Wares that lived there lived wild unchained lives and cared little for the troubles of the wizardfolk Aboveground that ostracized them, though many had family members and they still depended on the Aboveground for supplies.

Most of the Ware homes were connected to the floo and after living there for scarcely three months Remus was half ways to building a decent home for himself not too far away from the "center of the town", which was a series of short wide alleyways around a town-center fountain depicting the goddess Artemis riding a white stag, that was made by a werewolf that was a muggle sculptor in his previous life as a human. In all honesty Remus could have happily sat out the whole war and either party would have been none the wiser.

The "sky" was magicked to reflect the real sky on Aboveground and they had somehow managed to get a working ecosystem, powered by magic of course, to include a varying meteorological effect and the city ran on a hybrid between muggle electricity and wizadring magic. They even had landlines!

It wasn't paradise by far of course.

Some of the werewolves had human children or spouses that had to hide away once a month at a locale they had all pitched in to purchase for the events of full moon, and the 350 or so refugees would seek sanctuary there while their loved ones suffered through the horrible ordeal of transformations. Many of them, like the Marauders, had opted for under-going animagus transformations to join their loved ones. Those that couldn't, went to Hectate's Sanctuary and took care of the younger cubs. Once the children grew old enough, or new stragglers, they were offered training by these few animagus humans on the camp although most didn't possess the skill for it.

Everyone pitched in however much they could but the truth of the matter was that there just weren't that many werewolves to begin with. On the camp…there were exactly 234 werewolves, and many more that moved on back Aboveground, and even more still that were unaware of the existence of the Underground. Remus would never be able to reach them all.

Werewolves at the camp while retaining much of their previous human conscious…were wilder than the average human, and Remus himself…lost much of his inner human as the days passed. Instinct was hard to ignore when surrounded by so many of their kind molding and merging with the wolf.

Remus sighed, running a hand through his mane of golden brown hair. It was rivaling Sirius's own in sheer length, but he had felt so little need for grooming here. Owls couldn't reach him and his only connection to the outside world was Dumbledore himself. He was struck by the news that little Aubrey McKinnon had been infected, but his heart was gladdened that she had found acceptance Aboveground and was making a name for herself. He didn't want to be particularly pessimistic but he couldn't help but expect to see her Underground sooner or later. It was just the way of things.

Tensions between Sirius, James and himself had run high of late, all weary and distrustful of each other. There was a traitor in their midst. Remus could scarcely believe that this war had taken the Marauders to that place, but they were all gone on separate missions for such long periods of time…who could say who the other was anymore truly? But it couldn't possibly be anyone of them could it? Remus refused to believe it…but there was a niggling voice in the back of his mind that ate away at his brain when he was floating above rock bottom. It poisoned his thoughts on more than one occasion, leaving him with the feeling of being soiled and guilty.

It had all become so fucked up.

He drew another shuddering breath, rubbing at the sudden dampness at his eyes. Lily was going to be giving birth soon, and they had both passed along the message for Remus to "please come home". He couldn't wait to meet the small new life that would be born into their pack, strange and estranged as they were of late…they were still his brothers.

But Remus had to wonder, where was home anymore really?

Pleeease leave a review with your thoughts, feedback or outright flames! Thank you for bearing with me this far either way! :]