June 1984
The bright sun in his eyes woke him first, cutting through the dragging exhaustion of the change. He lay still, trying to make sense of the sun in his eyes and the dirt and grass under his skin.
His stomach twisted as adrenaline cut through the weakness of his battered body. He'd changed last night. He should be in the basement, safely chained. He'd gotten loose. He screwed his eyes shut, praying he hadn't hurt anyone. And as he shifted he felt something else. Warm and soft, pressed close to him.
He opened his eyes. There was long hair in his face and soft skin under the arm wrapped around a slim waist.
He carefully withdrew the arm and sat up, screwed up his courage, and looked down. She was young, brunette, and naked as him with scratches and bite marks across her back and shoulders. He would estimate she was his age, early 20s, brown hair long and wild around her. She was dirty and grass stained, same as him, daisies and purple thistles caught in her long brown hair.
He looked at the bite marks he knew were his doing. He begged silently for her to have been turned already. If she hadn't she would next full moon, and he'd have himself to blame.
She turned, sighing heavily, and he caught sight of another bite mark on her right wrist. It had the smooth flesh of a scar, well-healed but angry and red.
He ran a hand over the identical mark he had on his upper arm and sighed with relief. She was one as well.
It had probably been her calls that had led him out of the cell. He'd never escaped before.
He sat up and pulled his legs to his chest, pressing a hand to his forehead. As usual he could remember nothing. Since James' death and Sirius' imprisonment the wilder aspects of his condition had taken over and he had remembered nothing, not that he had remembered much before.
"Good morning."
He opened his eyes. She was looking at him, making no attempt to cover herself, not even sitting up. She'd merely rolled over and lay perfectly still. Her eyes moved over him, taking in the scars and bruises. He curled tighter, even more conscious of his lack of robes.
"What's good about it?" he heard himself snap. He was always grouchy after a change. If his head would just clear…
She laughed and sat up, stretching and yawning. "Well it was certainly a good night."
He blinked at her, shocked, which made her laugh again.
She stood, dusting off her knees and looking around. "We're near my house. Come get something to eat. I'll give you something to wear." She stretched and yawned again as she fell into an easy trott.
He stood and followed, trying to cover himself without looking ridiculous while she walked across the field, bold as brass. Exhaustion dragged at his limbs, making him trip over rocks, but he was too weak to object and had no idea how far he had strayed or even which direction would take him home. The thought of walking more than a few feet made him want to collapse in defeat.
"You don't have a husband there waiting to throttle me do you?" he asked, hurrying to catch up.
"If I did he'd be to blame for letting me run loose." She shook her head, turning to walk backward so she could study him while she pulled the leaves out of her hair. "No, I'm not attached, unless you take your love bites as a promise." She reached up to rub her shoulder as she turned back around and strode on.
"Sorry about that," he offered.
"If it bothered me I'd have paid you back in kind." She stopped suddenly. He stumbled to a stop as he caught up with her. "You don't remember it at all do you?"
"You do?"
"I've accepted what I am." She tutted at him and continued, throwing a leg over a low fence and sidling over.
He took longer, trying to avoid slivers in uncomfortable places. She was nearly to the door of a large, comfortable looking cottage with five or six extra stories stacked neatly on top.
She waited for him. "You live here?"
"Below," she answered, descending a muddy stair and pushing open a heavy wooden door.
He followed her down. It was more spacious than it appeared below, if a bit cramped by an overabundance of things. Tables and sideboards were everywhere. They entered into a small kitchen. A breadbox was open with a nearly full loaf sitting there. Butter and cheese sat under glass. A small stove stood in the corner and a basket overflowing with fruit sat on the table.
She went through a doorway, pushing aside a heavily embroidered tapestry. He fell heavily into a chair, and a moment later an arm appeared, tossing a pair of slacks at him, followed by a cloak.
"Sorry, I don't have a lot of men's things."
"I'm thankful," he said.
"Help yourself to anything you'd like. There's butterbeer and milk in the icebox. You're probably hungry. I always am."
"Famished," he admitted, cutting some bread and cheese and setting it on a plate. "Nearly as much as I am tired." He leaned onto the table as he stuffed the food into his mouth and chewed. "Where do you work?"
"I serve the people upstairs," she answered. She reappeared in a blue silk dress, buckling on a belt with a sheath for her wand at her hip. She poured water into a bowl and set it on the table. Taking a cloth she began to wipe the dirt away, offering him another cloth as he continued to chew.
"Do you clean for them?"
She laughed. "No." She opened her mouth but was cut off by a shriek upstairs. Her mouth settled into a hard line and she stood and strode quickly out the door. "They always do this after the change," she grumbled as she went. "They think I'll be too weak to do anything."
He followed, not sure what to do but sure that he should help if he could.
She let herself into the house upstairs and he followed, stepping just inside the door, suddenly conscious of the fact that he was wearing only pants and cloak, and had no wand to defend himself.
A woman stood in the middle of the sparsely decorated but very rich house, hands over her mouth and tears leaking down her face, watching a man holding a young girl who kicked at him in his arms.
"Let. Her. Go," the werewolf ordered, crossing her arms and glaring at the man.
The man struggling with the child looked at her and laughed, showing crooked rotten teeth. "Or what?"
She raised her head and inhaled deeply through her nose. "I have your scent now." She held out her arm and pulled up the sleeve to show her wound. "Which means the wolf does. You harm a hair on that girl's head and I'll hunt you to the end of the earth. They say a wolf bite is unbearable. I'll give you a good twenty before I snap your neck."
Without a word he set the girl down, very slowly. She ran to her mother and he sidled out the door, past them.
The woman fussed over the girl. The wolf nodded at her and turned for the door.
"Who's that?" the woman asked as she reached the door.
"A friend," she answered, turning stiffly back.
"I don't know if I approve of such friends."
"The moon is through for four weeks. I'll have whatever friends I want, you ungrateful crone. See to your daughter."
With that she turned her back and strode back down to her apartments.
"So you're a bodyguard," he said when she went back to the kitchen and shoved an apple into her mouth while hacking at the loaf of bread.
"Something like that," she said through a full mouth
"So what does the family do, that bad men come after their daughter?"
"I don't know."
"You don't know or you don't want to know?"
"I don't know BECAUSE I don't want to know." She grabbed some cheese. "The girl's innocent and I'm well fed. Your flat this nice?"
He looked around, shaking his head. "What's your name?"
"Dora," she answered. "Pandora but I prefer Dora. Fewer jokes about boxes that way."
He chuckled, stepped forward and offered a hand. "Remus Lupin."
"Pleasure," she answered, taking his hand.
"Where are you from?"
"Elsewhere. You?"
"Here," he answered. "How did you become…one of us?"
"How did you?" she asked, falling into a chair with a sigh and inserting half the sandwich into her mouth.
"My father upset Greyback. I was his revenge. I was five."
She winced, then shrugged. "I grew up without a father. My mother did admirably." She rolled her head, rubbing at her neck. "Then when I was fifteen my father appeared suddenly. He showered me with gold. Gave me everything I wanted. Got me expensive gowns, took me to lovely restaurants. I adored the attention. What girl doesn't want to be doted upon by her absent father? Then, one evening, he took me to a large, well dressed man. He explained that I was to stay with him. He needed a mate. Not while he was human. He was rich enough to get those himself. He wanted someone to make the change with him. He bit me that night. And the next month I changed."
Remus paled. "I've heard of such things. It's barbaric."
She shrugged. "When I turned twenty I ripped out his throat and ran away. Since then I've been doing very well for myself."
"As a wolf, I presume." She nodded through a yawn. "He got what he deserved."
"I don't know. In my imagining fair would have me doing it monthly for years, but we take what we can get."
"Did you try to find your mother?"
"My former neighbors didn't recognize me. They said her daughter died and she moved away. I thought she was better off believing me dead." She shrugged indifferently, curling a piece of hair around one finger. "So, what do you do, to make ends meet?"
He turned the sandwich in his hands before taking a bite. "Truth to tell I'm at loose ends right now."
"What have you been doing?"
"Fighting Voldemort."
She paused, staring at him, and whistled through her teeth. "And you survived?"
"Many didn't," he sighed.
"Friends?" He nodded. "Family?"
"Them too."
"What do you want to do?"
He considered. "Time was I wanted to be a teacher."
She snorted. "You think they're going to let you near kids?"
"Not really."
"It's a pity. The stupidity of people. I've heard rumors there are places our kind are honored. Welcomed. They expect us to remove ourselves on the full moon, but otherwise they're happy to see us."
"Where's that?"
"Siberia, for one. Some parts of Africa. That's the rumor anyway. I'd like to find out someday. My position here is too good for me to go risking it so I can travel. But someday." She propped her head on her hand, eyes trying to drift shut.
"What do you do besides babysit?" he asked nodding upstairs.
"Whatever I want," she said with relish. "I write, I paint, I laze."
"What did you want to do before?'
"Never really made a decision. I didn't finish school so I can't really say where my talents lie, and I certainly never got the chance to develop them. I liked healing. We had a neighbor that was a cursed klutz and I was pretty good at healing her."
"It seems like a big risk, running around loose, possibly infecting someone, especially a healer."
"I don't usually find people," she informed him. "And if I do I don't bite them."
His head whipped up. "You can stop the wolf?"
She shrugged. "I have, a few times."
"You remember?"
She sighed. "The whole transformation on through and back. A lot of days I wish I didn't."
"But you can stop yourself biting people?" She nodded dismissively. "How?"
"I'm there. I wouldn't say in control but part of me is there. And when it's important I can control her." She took another bite and continued with her mouth full. "I wasn't kidding when I told that guy I'd hunt him down. I can do that. Sort of give the wolf marching orders. Particularly if it's orders she likes. It's sort of like holding the reigns of an ornery horse. Usually it isn't worth the trouble but when I put enough effort into it it will do as it's told."
"But HOW?" he asked, desperation starting to show.
She chuckled at him. "You're too repressed. You keep the thing so tied down it runs far and fast as soon as it gets its head. You shouldn't fight it so hard."
"I resent it when it crops up in my regular life."
She grinned, a sparkle in her eye. "It comes in handy from time to time."
"Like when?" he grumbled.
She considered him. "In bed, for one." He choked and she laughed. "Did you not have any friends in school? 15-year-old boys aren't known for their discretion. There are enough rumors about us, I'd think they'd badger you a bit."
"They learned there wasn't much point," he muttered as he swigged the butterbeer before him. "I didn't rise to the ribbing. And I didn't really have the…experience to comment."
She shook her head. "It's wasted on you. You should put it to good use."
"Doing what?"
She shrugged. "I know one works in a dueling club, beating the tar out of people on a regular basis. I knew one worked for a private investigator. We may not smell as well as the wolf but we're a damn site better than your average wizard and tracking instincts are there. Another leads nature hikes and camping trips for tourists in Bulgaria. It can be a benefit if you accept it. It doesn't do you any good to deny what you are. If it's going to work against us it may as well work for us." She stretched and yawned. "Well I don't know about you but I'm bushed."
He nodded, standing. "I've trespassed on your kindness long enough. If you'll let me borrow a wand I'll disapperate. I can return it tomorrow." He knew it was asking a lot but the thought of trying to journey home was beyond him.
"You must be tired as me. Why not sleep here?"
"Do you have an extra bed?"
"No, but I know you're as tired as me. We'll be dead to the world."
He paused but the exhaustion dragging at him decided him. He stood and followed her through the curtain.
Her bedroom was small, dominated by a large, well-made bed. She pointed to a door. "Bathroom," she said, flopping onto the bed and crawling toward the wall. She turned to face the wall, giving him space.
He did her the same honor, turning toward the door and closing his eyes, dead to the world before his head hit the pillow.