A/N: Short story about Remus that I always had in my mind and was glad the Quidditch League allowed me to write. Thanks for all your reviews on my last story and if you could leave your thoughts in the box down there, I'd love you forever! ;)

He Wasn't Even A Bloke

A light rain had begun when Remus Lupin entered the pub, he took the book from under his cloak and smiled. A simple Impervious Charm had been able to keep all the water away, a useful trick James had shown him back in his Hogwarts years and he still used, remembering his fallen friend every time he cast the spell.

He had to admit that he had expected to last a little while longer in this last job. However, a shy four months since he had resigned from his post at Hogwarts had proved him that his condition was still in people's mind. What did he expect really? His name had been all over the Prophet associated in the most pejorative of ways with the word werewolf, showing all the Wizarding population in Britain just how dangerous he was.

Alastor Moody had taken his place the month before. Of course he was a much better choice than Remus Lupin, the werewolf. Mad-Eye, as he had been known since he had lost his eye on the field, had filled half the cells in Azkaban with Death Eaters and dark wizards alike. Moody would be able to teach those kids so much more than he would ever be able to. He had lived the danger, he knew what it was like to wake up every morning knowing that it might be your last. True he had always been somewhat paranoid, since the days of the Order in the seventies, but from what Dumbledore had told Remus the day he chose to leave Hogwarts, that was most likely just what those kids would need.

He walked to the nearest table and called the waitress. A young girl that must have been at Hogwarts the year before, but he was sure that he hadn't taught her, so she was older than she looked.

'A Butterbeer, please,' he asked when she was within earshot distance.

A nod and a smile and she was walking back to the counter.

Remus was reminded of when he was her age, he had already grasped what it meant to be a werewolf in a society that despised those creatures. He had been working to get infiltrated within Greyback's pack, hoping he would change some of the werewolves' minds, but to no avail. All he had ever won from that experience was hours of torture when Greyback found out he was a spy for Dumbledore. Even the Muggles did not believe him when he tried to tell that there were people out there willing to see them for who they were and not the monster they became when the moon was full.

The waitress returned and put the Butterbeer on his table, but this time she didn't have the easy smile on her lips. She was looking at him with half narrowed eyes, if rather curious.

'What's your name?' Remus enquired.

'Georgia,' she answered after a few seconds of an awkward look at his face.

'Well, thanks, Georgia.'

She nodded once more and walked away.

Remus opened the book and stared at the page he had carefully marked the night before. Had she recognised him? Or was she simply staring impolitely at the new scars that covered his face? It wasn't a nice view, he knew that. He was well aware of that fact whenever he looked himself in the mirror and his reflection would shoot at him that he ought to find a potion to hide those. Perhaps he really should. It was high likely that the world would treat him a bit better if he did not have scars across his face, if he did not look like he had just been attacked by an animal. He was his own animal.

There was only one problem of course, he couldn't afford said potion. He was lucky he had enough to keep food on the table, but that was thanks to Dumbledore's generosity on how much he paid him for the last year.

Remus took off the stopper and sipped on his Butterbeer, feeling the liquid warming himself up before returning to his book and finally he began to read. He allowed himself to get lost in a world of castles, battles and royal families, a world of happy endings, a world that he would never belong to for he knew that even if his life was to become a book, it would not have one of those. If only he had died when James and Lily did, when Sirius went to Azkaban, when Peter became the rat he had always been ... Perhaps then he would have had a happy ending. He wouldn't have a girl and a family like James did, or a life of a different girl in your bed every night like Sirius's, he had long given up on those, but he would have friends. He would have people that would die for him in the blink of an eye and that was the most important to Remus, the closest to happiness he would ever allow himself to.

His hand slipped to his pocket and he felt the last letter Sirius had sent him, just the week before. Padfoot had not told him of his whereabouts, it was better this way. He didn't want Sirius risking getting caught once more just so he could have an idea of where the last of his best friends was. Remus took another sip of the Butterbeer, drinking as he read, as if trying to keep his mind in the fairytale before his eyes and not in the way his last boss spit on his face and yelled at him to leave before he called the Aurors, yelled at him for trying to trick him into thinking that he was a nice bloke. He wasn't even a bloke.

Of course the book would end with the prince holding the princess safe in his arms, promising to keep her from any harm and asking her to marry him. Remus sighed and closed the book. He most definitely would never have one of those. He downed the rest of the Butterbeer, but before his bottle had hit the table, he saw the waitress leaving a piece of parchment on his table.

They know what you are. They asked you to pay and leave immediately.

Remus nodded and got a couple of Sickles from his pocket, noticing the hatred in her eyes as he handed them to her. She had obviously been forced to that situation and she had been as discreet as possible, it was more than he could ever hope to get from the prejudicial society they lived in.

'Thank you,' he said, despite the way he had been treated. Georgia deserved his kindness. He was the one who didn't deserve hers. If the Wizarding world couldn't give him what he wanted, at least he could give the Wizarding world what it wanted from him.