Disclaimer:: Don't own it...

Welp here it is...my own little project I've been nursing for about 2 years now. Originally I'd planned to submit it to Schnoogle (which I still might..) ..but I wasn't sure if the completed fic would meet the length quota. (Which explains why this story comes off sounding a bit novel- esque.) Hope you guys enjoy it, but even if you don't, I'd like to hear what you think about it. (i.e. Reviews, please!) Note:: Takes place a few months after PoA, slight AU.

"From the great spirit was born the wolf..and man became its messanger..." -Wolf's Rain

::Exuberence::

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Pink.

Brilliant shades of pink and yellow and blue. They lined the sky as a hesitant sun peeked over the horizon.

The sun...

It was morning then, or rather, that mysterious time between morning and dawn, when the sun and the moon were both facing each other in the sky, before the silvery lunar body faded from view. He searched for it now between the trees, wincing as he craned his neck awkwardly. Yes, there it was. He could see it just barely, high above the fanning limbs of the trees; a round and pearly thing. The moon. Already it was disappearing; the sun had by now risen and it was officially morning.

The man lifted himself into a sitting position, blinking haphazardly at his surroundings. He was in a forest. Not the forbidden forest, he noted with some relief. In fact, this place seemed to be no where near Hogwarts, thankfully. Just a plain old regular wooded area, with oaks and dogwoods and gum trees...

The man looked suddenly down at himself.

He was naked; ofcourse, that was no shock. But the only blood he saw was his own, and he could only hope that the metalic taste in his mouth was from the blood of an animal and not some unsuspecting human.

The man was Remus Lupin; what was left of him, atleast. He was a wizard, a graduate of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, one of the most prestigious wizarding schools in Europe. With that kind of background, he should have had no trouble finding a job.

And yet, he was unemployed.

Hadn't been employed, infact, for over a year. Not since he'd resigned from the Defence Against Dark Arts position. Oh, he'd had jobs. Nothing steady ofcourse; odd jobs here and there. He had the worst luck when it came to keeping a job. Not because he was incompetant, for he was extremly knowledgable in magical defences. And not because he was lazy either, because he was more than willing to do his share of work. No, the reason for his unemployment stemmed directly from a certain condition he had.

Lycanthropy. Remus was a werewolf.

He rose now, pulling himself stiffly from the ground and casting a doubtful glance about himself. This was just great. He had no idea where he was, and didn't even want to think about how he would get out of the forest unseen. He'd been arrested before by muggle authorities for indecent exposure, and had had a hell of a time getting out. Perhaps he should just stay here...? He ponderd this thought, after a moment deciding against it. He was cold and damp, not to mention more than a little hungry, and the thought of staying in this forest a moment longer was just very unappealing.

Taking a few careful steps forward, he began limping towards what he hoped to be the end of the forest. Atleast, it looked as if it were less dense. And every instinct in his body was telling him to go this way. Being part animal did have it's quirks, he thought wryly. For example, his senses were heightened. He could sense....sometimes even smell when a person was telling a lie. However, the bad far outweighed the good, and it was a price he wished he didn't have to pay.

Briefly he wondered how far he'd traveled as a werewolf. About three days before the actual change, he'd left the city; left behind the sorry excuse of a muggle apartment he'd been occupying, left behind everything but the cloths on his back; and even those were ruined after the change...

He paused to lean against a tree, gasping for breath. The change always left him feeling spent and ill. He closed his eyes, enjoying the feel of the dew slicked grass against his toes. Many a time he'd awoke on the ground, the grass tickling his face. It had become an almost sensual feeling for him, as intimate as he let himself get with anything thanks to his condition. How sad.

Moments later he resumed his trek, stopping every so often to catch his breath. It was slow progress, and the sun was high in the sky before he'd finally stumbled out of the forest, falling to his knees. In his weakened condition, his body wasn't used to such activity, and his breath came in flurry gasps, body damp with sweat.

Only after catching his breath did he notice his surroundings.

Beautiful red, pink, and white roses lined the yard, their scent filling his nose. Several dogwoods, all white, along with various other plants were placed impeccably around the landscape, with a small white gazebo situated in the center. And the grass.....it was soft and cushiony; obviously planted.

He felt cold apprehension fill him. He had made his way out of the woods only to inadvertantly stumble into someone's back yard. And not just any back yard. This was obviously part of an estate. A very wealthy estate.

He panicked.

The last thing he needed was to be seen like this...TRESPASSING, no less -- naked, weak, and dirty without any logical excuse. How would he explain that? He looked behind him, back into the woods. He had to avoid being seen at all costs. But even as he thought this, even though that rational part of him reasoned that he leave, he didn't move. He was so tired of running. He only needed to rest for a bit.. just a moment. Besides; the prospect of being lost in those woods was anything but inviting. And this place with its roses; he much preferred them with their intoxicating fragrance. Being a werewolf, his sense of smell was stronger than the average person, more accute- and the sweet smell of the flowers was lulling him into a drowsy sense of calm.

But he was being foolish. He ought to leave right now before someone caught him and-

Still he didn't move.

This place...it felt familiar and comfortable, like--

"'ay! Yew therre!!" The voice came suddenly and without warning. His face went pale, paler than he already was, searching frantically for an escape route. He hadn't realized how far into the yard he'd walked.

"Yew! Sir!! Who d'ya think y'are runnin' about in yoor skimpies? And in a ladies yard too, y'are!!" The voice was high and decidedly female. A moment later he saw her. Short and plump, with flaming red hair streaked with gray, and puffing from the excertion of a sudden uncharacteristic run.

He ducked behind a nearby dogwood.

A slim dogwood, true, but at the moment he was much too embarrassed to care. The woman was watching him with wary suspicious eyes, and he knew that he must speak in the next moment; he must say something, and choose his words quickly and wisely. But what? 'Sorry, I'm a werewolf and I woke up in the woods behind your estate?' No, not that! She'd probably shoot him on spot. If only he'd- he suddenly wished he had his wand. He could perform a memory spell or apparate to-

The woman was watching him closely, eyes alert; calm even. It was not the usual reaction muggle women gave when confronted by a strange- possibly threatening- male; Even a frail, fatigued one such as himself. But this woman..her stance was casual, yet her arm - her right arm, he noted - was poised to raise.

Still behind the dogwood, he decided to go with his insticts and hope that his suspicions about her were correct.

"Forgive me," he began rapidly, "I know how this must seem, but-" he shook his head helplessly. "I meant no harm...if you don't believe me, you could place an Impediment Jinx on me and call for others, but I can assure you that it's quite unnecessary-" he stopped, chancing an uncertain glance at the woman. Her face went slack with surprise, blue eyes wide and staring.

"Ya mean then ta say yoor a wizard?" understanding dawned on her face, acceptance. "O' course! No muggle coulda gotten in back 'ere. Shoda r'membered that." He was still trying to figure out what she'd meant by that statement when her eyes took on a sudden mischievious glint. "Tho to be honest, it still dudn't explain why yoor goin' about wearing nuthin'." She openly stared at him. "Not a stitch O clothin' on ya!" he blushed bright red.

The woman pursed her lips.

"Well, let's get somethin' on ya 'tleast." With a flick of her wand (aha! So she HAD been concealing a wand in her right hand), a large blue robe appeared over his shoulders. He wrapped himself in it gratefully, but before he could voice his gratitude the woman spun on her heels. She was already two yards away before realizing he wasn't following. She frowned.

"Well? What're ya doin? Don't stand so! Come along." He found himself following her almost without thinking. Where was she taking him? Would she reveal his presence? Perhaps he should leave right now..though if she'd wanted to stop him she could have easily done so with her wand. He decided to take a chance, lifting the robe carefully so as not to drag the ends on the ground. She led him up the steps and into what appeared to be a very large kitchen. Standing uncertainly in the doorway, he watched as she took out a plate and cut out a huge chunk of the pie that had been cooling on the counter top. She placed the pie on the table, pulled out a chair and stared pointedly at him.

"Well? What're ya waitin' for? I imagine ya've gotta be starved."

He was. He sat down, and half of the pie was gone before he realized that it was apple, his favorite. A large glass of milk had appeared beside him, and he gulped it down thirstily before realizing how he must seem. Where were his manners? He must appear ragged and uncivilized! He stared across at the woman, embarrassed, who was watching him silently.

"I don't s'pose ya'd like to tell me wat yew were doin' lurking around in the back yard." she wiped a plump hand over her damp brow. Now that he was across from her, he could see that she was middle aged; she looked in human terms about fifty, but one could never tell with magic folk.

"I wasn't lurking," he replied hastily. "I was-" he paused. What was he doing? What could he tell her that wouldn't send her running away in fright or throwing an attack spell his way? He couldn't bring himself to reveal what he really was. And in the beautiful, brightly lit kitchen, the reality of his lycanthropy seemed far away.

"I.." the woman watched him patiently.

"I..ran into a bit of trouble.." he looked down. It was partly true, anyway. The woman nodded.

"I should think!," her round face was flushed in her excitement. "Why, ye've got scratches and blood all over ya!" she cut him another slice of pie. "What happened?" His mouth went dry, appetite quickly waning. Usually he was quick with responses and excuses; his days in Hogwarts with James and Sirius had taught him that. But on such a touchy subject as this, it was always best to be wary. The woman was clearly concerned, but at the moment he wanted nothing more than to leave. He should never have followed her. He should just tell her now, 'I'm a werewolf', watch the usual looks of fear and outrage fall on her face, and then leave.

Yet he couldn't do it. He couldn't bear to see something like that right now; especially after the kindness she'd shown him.

But he couldn't stay either.

He suddenly realized why the place seemed so familiar. It was a magical residence. He'd been living near muggles mostly; they were easier to fool than wizards when it came to his lycanthropy. To be here, in a magical residence, and in the presence of the kindly witch...it brought back memories of his childhood. His mother had always loved roses.

He stood, pushing back his chair with a squeal.

"Thank you," he murmured softly, his tired face giving her a small glimpse of a smile. He couldn't stay. He'd already stayed too long. He turned to go, walking slowly towards the door. Why was it so hard to leave? As his fingers brushed against the knob, he paused.

"I thank you....for your kindness," his words were quiet, sincere, the only thing he had to offer as gratitude. There was no money...not that the witch needed it, for she was obviously very well off. He swung open the door.

"Stop right therre!"

The command was spoken with such power, such authority, that he stopped in his tracks, swinging startled eyes to the little woman. Her face was drawn up in a stern frown, and her pale blue-grey eyes searched his hazel ones sharply.

"I dun't know what kind 'f a person ya think I am....but I'd be right horrid if I let ya go out in that condition, lad!" She shook her head. "Yer obviously hurt..why not stay and rest a bit..if only fer a few hours." It wasn't a question. Remus shook his head. The offer was tempting; Seductive even, to stay in this beautiful house on this wonderous estate with it's roses......

But he couldn't. His life was too complicated, too...solitary to risk being in one place for too long. Besides. It was only a matter of time before the old witch put two and two together.. Did he really want to see her reaction when she realized what he was? Did he even want to be around then? He didn't know if he could bear it. But one look at the her determined, motherly face, and he felt all the fight go out of him. Will deflated, he turned slowly, clicking the door shut and coming to stand over near the end of the table. He was going to regret this later, he just knew. He was going to regret this even more than the old witch when she realized what he was. But afterall..he really didn't have much of a choice, did he?

Liar!, a voice within him screamed. You can walk out right now if you wanted. She can't stop you if you don't want to stay.

He sighed. Yes, he was going to regret this dearly. But looking into the face of the kindly old witch, he could almost believe otherwise.

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