He rubbed his face to wake himself up. He needed his wits about himself; he was about to walk into the wolf's den, literally. Fenrir Greyback was a confirmed Death Eater and the most vicious werewolf to have ever lived. He steeled himself for the encounter, which was undoubtedly going to be uncomfortable, when someone else caught his eye.

He watched her leave the building being pulled by some small puppy, but she didn't seem to be paying attention. And she looked good he had to admit. He couldn't deny it and his eyes seemed to be glued to her, following her progress until she turned the corner. Her once long hair had been cut in sharp layers that fell around her face, but her face hadn't changed at all. No, he told himself, that was a lie. It had. She had worry lines and she looked tougher, as though she'd been through hell and back but was smiling because it hadn't taken her. It hadn't gotten her down. She was fit, her brown, down-filled vest hugging her curves over a thin, long-sleeved tee. Her jeans hugged her form perfectly. He felt the same stirring of lust and love he'd felt every time he'd seen her when they'd been at school.

He snapped out of it when she turned out of sight. What was she doing here? She wasn't supposed to be here. He was supposed to be looking for Fenrir and he'd found her instead. The only girl he'd ever loved. He looked at the building again, it was an old, low-rise apartment complex, with a faded stucco exterior. At least she was doing well for herself, affording her own apartment. It was better than he could have afforded. He could smell her, his mind seemed to mist over for a moment. He pulled back behind the maintenance shed he was waiting next to; she was going back inside, the puppy decidedly calmer.

The door was halfway opened when she paused and looked around. He bowed his head, unwilling to let their eyes meet. She wouldn't recognize him now, he'd been through too much. His time in the Order had scarred him along with his years of adversity, barely able to scrape meals together and moving from place to place.

"You can come in, Remus." She said, her voice sounded tired, disappointed even.

He hesitated before stepping out from behind the maintenance shed. Their eyes connected as he came forward and she bit her lip. He focused on her lips, they were moist and pink and he wanted to kiss them. He wanted to kiss her senselessly. He wanted it to be like old times when she would sneak into his bed because she needed him, regardless of who else was in the dorm and whether they were asleep or not. He reached out his hand to caress her cheek, he almost kissed her, but she turned away. His hand fell uselessly at his side.

They walked in silence, rode the Muggle elevator up to the fourth floor and entered her suite. But he wasn't looking at his surroundings, he was looking at her. She hadn't looked at him since she'd let him in and the tension between them had escalated with every step.

He watched from the doorway as she let the puppy off it's leash and scooped some generic dog food into a bowl. He closed the door behind him as she busied herself with getting some water for the little dog.

"You know, I never figured you as the little dog type." He said. He'd had to say something. The silence was driving him crazy.

She laughed; it was musical. His heart seemed to constrict at the sound. He'd dreamed of her laugh so many nights when she'd been absent. He could make her laugh, he thought depressingly, but she still wouldn't look at him. "This thing? I wouldn't have chosen him if it had been up to me, but he's growing on me. . . somewhat." Then she glanced at him, for a second, as though just wanting to see what he'd become, before turning back to the kitchen. "Can I get you something, Remus? Tea? I think I remember that you liked tea."

He sighed. She remembered things about him at least; she hadn't tried to forget him as he had tried to forget her so many times. Or maybe she had and had failed miserably like he had. "Yeah, tea would be lovely, Aislin." He relished the sound of her name. He hadn't said it in years, he hadn't let it roll off his tongue for fear of the emotions that would surface.

"Yeah, alright, I already have a pot on, it was just steeping. Have a seat on the couch and make yourself comfortable, I'll be out in a minute." She called from the kitchen, a hand waving him forward.

He did as he was told, sitting on a plush white couch across from a coffee table and another, identical couch. The puppy jumped up beside him and put a paw tentatively on his lap before crawling on top of him and lying down. He laughed. This definitely wasn't what he'd have expected her to have as a pet. Maybe a German Shepherd or a Doberman. Even a Great Dane, but not a Shi Tzu.

She emerged a minute later with a tea tray and set it on the table before grabbing the puppy by it's scruff and setting it on the floor. Then she sat down on the opposite couch and began serving tea. They sat in silence for a few minutes, sipping on their tea, glancing at each other and hoping the other wouldn't catch them.

"It's good to see you." He said, finally breaking the silence. She nodded, their eyes catching for a moment before quickly glancing away.

"It's good to see you too." She answered. He could tell she was nervous. Was it because she still loved him like her loved her, or was it just an awkward meeting of two old lovers? He forced himself not to be too optimistic. She had been the one who had left him, he reminded himself.

They talked for another couple minutes about generic, ambiguous subjects like the weather, the news and the Ministry's newest decrees until he saw a picture waving at him from the side table. He looked at it closer, she was beaming up at him out of the picture, one arm waving while the other was wrapped around an older man with wild grey hair and an unshaven face. He immediately knew who the man was; none other than Greyback, the man he was sent there to spy on.

She caught him looking at it and smiled, "That was taken a couple years ago now. Almost seems a lifetime ago." There was another awkward silence then she broke it again, "So, what about you? Still a Marauder?" He winced and she looked embarrassed, "I'm sorry, I heard about James and Lily, it's a real shame. They were good people." She said quietly, looking at him as though for approval. He nodded. "I know about Peter, of course, but what about in infamous Sirius Black." He cringed; it was still so soon. . . "Oh, wait, no I heard about that as well, Bellatrix, right?"

Remus cleared his throat, "Yeah, Lestrange." He answered gruffly, trying to keep the pain out of his voice. What disturbed him the most was the way she was discussing it; as though it were the weather, or a Quidditch game. Then he shook himself. Of course, she didn't care about Sirius. When they'd been at school, he'd used her and then tossed her aside as though she were something disposable. The same as he'd done with so many girls, but she'd never forgiven him for it.

"Don't worry, she joined him soon after." She assured him, a grim smile gracing her lips.

He looked at her in surprise, "You?"

"No one insults Fenrir in front of me." She said darkly.

"That's damned right." A coarse voice said loudly as the door opened.

Remus jumped and a few seconds later, the grizzled older man walked into the living room. Now that he was looking at the object of his mission, he began to feel his confidence waver. This man had bitten him. This man had given him this lycanthropic curse.

"I believe this one's here to see me, pup, not to catch up with you in a tangle of sheets." Fenrir said. Aislin blushed as she stood up, collecting the tea tray with shaking hands. Remus didn't get a chance to ask her what that meant as she disappeared around the corner and back into the kitchen. "So what can I do you for, son?" The grizzled old werewolf asked as he shook Remus' hand as soon as she was out of the room.

"Son?" Remus asked, suddenly on his toes.

"Sure. I remember all the kids I bite. It's always great to have a reunion." Fenrir replied, but Remus had the distinct feeling that the older werewolf was being sarcastic.

They sat back down, Fenrir taking over Aislin's newly vacated seat and they set to business. Dumbledore needed an informant close to Fenrir and he had been the logical choice. He needed to join the pack. He needed to get them to trust him. He needed to convince them that he hated wizards, that he wanted revenge.