26 August 1983

Despite the summer warmth that had lingered into late August under the watchful midday sun, the drawing evening brought a dank chill that seeped from the bog into the small, dimly-lit pub. Two wizards were huddled in a dark corner, whispering and glancing surreptitiously around at the other patrons. A hag rocked back and forth, hissing to herself and spitting into the lone fire. A drowsy-looking barman leaned against the back wall behind the counter with his eyes closed and his arms crossed over his chest. Alone at a table toward the back of the pub, a shaggy brown head was bowed over a shot of Firewhiskey. The man closed his eyes and knocked the drink back, pushing the grimy shot glass across the sticky wooden table toward a steadily growing pile of dirty glassware.

James and Lily are dead. Remus Lupin could still hear Dumbledore's words reverberating in his mind. He could see his best friend's face contorted in anger—and frozen. James hadn't even had the chance to put up a fight. With a flick of a wrist, the daring, jovial spirit had been extinguished. Remus had forced himself to step over James and walk upstairs. Lily's tear-streaked face was ashen and, even with the glaze of death, there was no denying the terror in her green eyes. Harry had been taken to his new home by the time Remus had heard the news and travelled to Godric's Hollow. How could Sirius have betrayed them? He was James's best friend, Harry's godfather. James had chosen him over all the Marauders and that was how Sirius Black repaid friendship and trust.

Fuck the Sorting Hat. Sirius Black is Slytherin through and through. I guess there's no denying blood ties, Remus thought through the drunken haze that clouded his mind. And now I'm alone. It was that thought that hurt him the most—and shamed him the most. Of course he mourned that the lives of the Potters and Peter had been cut far too short. Of course he mourned for little Harry, who would grow up not knowing his parents. But most of all, he mourned for himself: friendless, family-less, homeless, unemployed. It was selfish of him…but it was true. He would give anything to go back to his carefree youth at Hogwarts, surrounded by his best friends.

Remus was brought out of his tortured thoughts and self-pity by a warm hand on his shoulder and a familiar lilting voice.

"Remus, my boy," an old man greeted him, settling into an empty chair. Startling flecks of blue and green twinkled warmly at him from the man's eyes of cold steel, "It's been far too long. I wasn't expecting to see you here. How have you been faring?"

Looking across the table at Master William Lamont, Remus felt a second wave of nostalgia wash over him. This time, his memories took him back to his pre-Hogwarts years; the difficult years just after Fenrir Greyback's attack. John Lupin, in concern for the welfare of his only child, had sought out an old acquaintance who had also suffered under Greyback's bite, albeit only after adulthood. Master Lamont had taken the Lupins under his wing. He had advised John Lupin as to the best methods of werewolf restraint, given Mary Lupin potions that would ease her son's pain in the aftermath of transformation, and taught Remus techniques for coping with both the physical and mental anguish brought on by his condition.

Remus realized with a start that, although the master had been an important part of his gradual acceptance of his lot in life, he knew very little about the man. Master William Lamont was an exceptional potions master and apothecary. Master Lamont once owned an expansive apothecary shop in Diagon Alley, but laws targeting "half-breeds" had forced him to move his business into Knockturn Alley. Despite the relocation, Master Lamont's business was profitable, from what Remus could remember, owing to his renown as a Potions Master and his guarantee to procure even the rarest of ingredients in no more than a week's time. Of his personal life, Remus knew even less. He vaguely recalled a little girl whose mother had died before her second birthday.

Shaking his head slightly to clear his foggy mind of the ghouls of the past, he answered the Potions Master's questions. Lapsing into the familiarity of sharing his troubles with the weather-beaten old werewolf, Remus recounted his difficulty in attaining employment and his recent eviction.

Master Lamont regarded him carefully for a few moments before speaking, "I recall your father telling me that you did exceptionally well at Hogwarts. Passed an impressive number of NEWTs, if I'm not mistaken?"

Remus gave him a crooked smile and a blush of light pink graced his stubbly cheeks, "I did well enough, sir."

"Better than well enough, if I recall correctly," countered the old man gently. "Might I ask in what subjects you earned your NEWTs?"

"Defense Against the Dark Arts, Transfiguration, Charms, Ancient Runes, Arithmancy, and History of Magic, sir."

"Yes, much better than well enough," said the old man, looking pleased. He leaned forward and placed a hand on Remus's arm, "I have a job for you, if you'd take it, son."

Remus looked up, "I'm rubbish at Potions, sir. I don't think I'd be much help around the Apothecary."

Master Lamont chuckled, "No, no. You forget that I've seen first hand what you did to that cauldron the summer you tried to help make potions in my shop. You must have been eleven? Twelve? Just after you started at Hogwarts, I believe. No, this is another matter. Do you remember my daughter, Evelyn? She was only a child when you last saw her, I believe. She is seventeen and will be taking her NEWTs in less than a year."

Remus smiled, "Is she liking Hogwarts? What house is she in?"

The old werewolf shook his head sadly, the cragginess of his face becoming more prominent, "She's not at Hogwarts. I reckon she was worried about leaving me. She's stubborn, that one. She tore her Hogwarts letter the minute it arrived. I have to admit, I don't know what I would have done without her these last few years. She is instrumental in the smooth functioning of my business and her skill in potion brewing has been a godsend for me. This old man's not much use for anything anymore, Remus. I can't brew any of the more complex potions, Wolfsbane included. My Evie took all my business's potion brewing upon herself at the age of thirteen and I haven't brewed since. I taught her at home during the first two years she should have been at Hogwarts. Once she learned the basics, she began teaching herself and performed extremely well on her OWLs. Outstandings in Potions, Care of Magical Creatures, Herbology, Defense Against the Dark Arts, Transfiguration, Charms, Ancient Runes, Arithmancy, and History of Magic.

"I am extremely proud of her successes and her independence. NEWTs are a different matter, Remus. I fear I have done her a great injustice in not insisting she go to Hogwarts. I have been thinking of finding her a private tutor. She doesn't need help with Potions. I daresay she could have passed the Potions NEWT years ago. She often goes with me to collect rarer potions ingredients and, as such, is well-versed in the care of magical creatures and in Herbology. I believe that with a little help from me, she will pass those NEWTs without a problem. The others are subjects that you excelled in, Remus. If you'd take it, the position is yours."

"I've never taught before," Remus began, "I wouldn't know the first thing about—"

Master Lamont held up a hand, "If there's one thing I've learned about my darling Evie is that she needs very little in the way of actual teaching. It's enough that you've taken the NEWTs and can direct her studying. I have complete confidence in you, my boy. We can negotiate the terms of your employment, but you needn't worry about trying to procure another flat. We have plenty of room and you are more than welcome to take your meals with us. Evie is an excellent cook."

"Thank you, sir," whispered Remus.

"Now let's get you home, son."

.~*~.~*~.~*~.~*~.~*~.

The werewolves apparated to a heather-strewn hill overlooking a gentle glen. A small loch was tinged pink in the light of the setting sun, casting a surreal pastel glow on the white cottage that sat at the water's edge. To the east of the house was a large, lush garden. Some of the plants Remus remembered from his OWL Herbology classes as important Potions ingredients. Others were Muggle plants: tomatoes, peppers, squash, zucchini, cucumbers, and greens of some sort. There were lovely trees, as well, bearing apples and peaches and rows of grape-covered vines.

Master Lamont pointed to the garden, "Each plant is cast with a charm that maintains the correct temperature and humidity for optimal growth. Evie cast those herself. She was only eleven." The old werewolf's eyes lit up with pride.

They walked along the thistle-lined path up to the cottage and Remus marveled at the beauty of the place. The property was situated amidst the rugged splendor of the Scottish Highlands, nestled deep within the mountains, far from prying eyes. The perfect place, Remus admitted, for a werewolf. He listened to his employer's description of the wards around the cottage. The fireplace was connected to the Floo Network for outgoing travel, but the only ways to access the cottage from the outside was via the direct Floo link between the cottage and the apothecary shop or apparition to the outer edge of the property and approaching from a distance.

The old man unlatched the front door and ushered the young man in. Remus heard a clatter followed by rapid footsteps.

"Papa! You're home!" A pretty young woman ran out into the hall and threw her arms around the old man, kissing his cheek. The woman's dark brown curls were pulled back into a ponytail and, as she stepped back from her father, Remus noted that she wore a simple white apron over a simple dress of dark green.

"Oh, we have a visitor! My name is Evelyn Lamont," she extended her hand to him and her large dark brown eyes peered up at him inquisitively.

"Remus Lupin," Remus responded, flushing a little as his hand encompassed hers. He thought he might have seen her tense and flush a little, as well, but he couldn't be sure.

"I'm very pleased to meet you, Mr. Lupin. Will you be staying for dinner?"

"This is your new tutor, Evie. He will be staying with us, at least for the duration of your NEWT studies," Master Lamont responded, relinquishing his traveling cloak and newly acquired potions ingredients to her.

"Ah, Professor Lupin, then," Evelyn said with a shy smile.

"Please, I'm barely older than you are. Call me Remus," said Remus, wishing quite intensely that he had at least gotten the chance to shave before meeting her.

Evelyn nodded, "Professor Lupin within lessons and Remus without, if that suits you. Let me show you to your room, Remus. Dinner will be ready in an hour, if you'd like to freshen up."

"That would be wonderful. Thank you."

Evelyn led him up the stairs to a large room overlooking the loch, "I hope this is alright, Remus." She bustled out of the room and came back carrying an armful of towels and an extra quilt, "I'm so sorry. I didn't know I was to prepare this room for you. I hope you'll be comfortable enou—oof!" Evelyn tripped over the edge of the quilt she was carrying and fell forward.

Remus leapt toward her and caught her in his arms, "Are you okay?"

As he helped her steady herself, he couldn't help but notice how perfect she felt against him and the dress he had thought simple, though flattering, was the texture of a silken cloud.

"I'm so sorry. I can't believe I was so clumsy," she prattled, blushing furiously and wincing slightly as she peered up at him.

Remus smiled gently down at her, "It's really fine." He tucked a loose curl behind her ear and very reluctantly let go of her.

"Uh, well, if you're all set, I'll go down and tend to dinner," Evelyn said shyly as she moved toward the door.

Remus shut the door behind her, then threw himself on the bed and closed his eyes, not wanting to forget the feeling of her against him. He lay there for a few moments, reliving the silkiness of her brown curls under his fingers and the softness of her curves in the crook of his arm. Get a grip, mate, Remus thought to himself. He sighed and walked toward the en suite bathroom.

He growled as he caught sight of himself in the mirror. How did I let myself go like this? He had never been as good-looking as Sirius, "heart-breakingly handsome" as he'd heard numerous girls describe the traitorous dog. He didn't have the charm and confidence that James had. But looking at his reflection, he was disgusted with himself. He had at the very least a pleasant face. His eyes were gentle, his lips sensuous, and his countenance open and honest.

Remus began drawing a bath and, while it filled, he pulled a razor out of his toiletries bag and carefully began removing the blasted whiskers covering his cheeks. Once he was satisfied that he had gotten as close of a shave as the blunt edge would give him, he stripped off his dirty clothes and evaluated himself.

His face was not as beautiful as Sirius's. His features were too rounded, too soft. Nothing compared to the sharp elegant lines chiseled into Black's face. His body, however, was another story. His shoulders were broad and powerful muscles covered every inch of him. He was too thin now, but if Evelyn was as good of a cook as her father claimed, it wasn't anything he couldn't fix. Although much leaner than he had been in his youth, his body far surpassed that of Sirius or James in their primes. He absently wondered if it had anything to do with his lycanthropy.

Remus lowered himself into the warm bath, where he was once more disgusted with himself. Flecks of dirt shed from his body the minute he touched the water. He growled again, grabbing a soapy brush and attacking his skin viciously. GROSS! Remus snarled a little, scrubbing until his body glowed pink.

Shit. How long have I been at this? Remus hurriedly washed his hair and stepped out of the bath. He quickly toweled himself off and rushed into his room, pulling the towel around his waist. He was rifling through his bags, looking for his best—well least-worn­—outfit, when he heard a soft knock at the door to his room.

At the second knock, the door popped open and Evelyn stood on the other side. Her mouth dropped open and her eyes widened at the sight of him. Evelyn's dark eyes flicked over his chest appreciatively before she turned a deep crimson and quickly shut the door.

Remus heard her take a deep breath and call from the hall, "I am so sorry, Remus. I should have told you. This door's a little tricky. You have to give it an extra little shove for it to shut properly. Um, I just wanted to let you know that dinner is ready whenever you're done." Rapid footsteps told him that she had left.

Remus paused for a moment before getting dressed. A little smile played on his lips. She didn't look away immediately, did she? He quickly ran a brush through his still-damp hair and hurried out of the room and down the stairs.