He didn't know why it always ended up being this way, but afterwards, after… whatever you wanted to call it happened, he couldn't stand to sleep alone. At least she understood. She didn't say anything, acted as if it was natural, and it was anything but. It was the only time that he admitted that he couldn't do it alone, and allowed her in.

But it was always a brief reprieve, and not even three days later, Angelina woke up in the middle of the night and the large bed would be empty save her, and she would realize that he felt he no longer needed her. It was such a night that she woke from, feeling as if she slept but not at all.

Her back was feeling better than it had in ages, partially due to the herbal tea that allowed her to stay a tad mellower than she seemed to be able to maintain herself these days. 'Luna did say there would be some side effects. You just have to learn to control your temper and not to get so tense.' The words echoed around her head as she dispassionately thought about the impending arrival of her parents.

Just as she buttoned the last button of her pull over, the bedroom door opened quickly and silently. Harry looked surprised as he stopped short, as if he were caught with his hand in the cookie jar. "Good morning… I didn't know you'd be awake yet."

"And what would you be doing if I weren't?" She teased lightly, determined not to let this become a fight.

"Checking on you, making sure you're alright." He said honestly, exhaling as if revealing that took a chore almost beyond him. Angelina sighed and shook her head, reaching for her favorite cane, the twisted willow that molded to her hand and mood. As soon as she touched it the cane stiffened itself out and extended to flow over her hand as if chaining her. It was going to be a difficult day.

"I'm fine, as you can see. What do you have planned today? Another trip to England?" Harry frowned and shrugged.

"I haven't decided yet. Do you want anything? If you do you can just-"

"I know, ask Dobby." Angelina finished irritably.

"I was going to say, ask me, but since you've already figured out the answers, I'll just leave you to it." Harry turned and left, his footfalls echoing down the length of the hall. It would be an hour later before Angelina joined him for a meal of some sorts. It was immaculately prepared, but the only people at the table picked at their food as if it were gruel.

The silence gnawed at Angelina until she couldn't sit still. "I'm sorry Harry. I don't know what's come over me."

"You say that all the time like it's an excuse. I would like to know what's gotten into you." He said quietly, putting down his juice and looking her in the eye. Angelina put her fork down and her eyebrow rose.

"And it isn't as if you've been the most emotionally stable person during all this."

"And what is this exactly?" Harry asked, no malice in his voice, but Angelina heard the warning loud and clear. "There is nothing you have to go through except get well. That's all you have to deal with."

"I would think that the love of my life having to go through… having to be… a werewolf would concern me." She said hotly, ignoring the stabbing pain in her back as she tensed.

"So you still love me?" The sheer and abject relief in Harry's voice caused her to pause.

"What?"

"You still love me?" Angelina laughed and pushed her plate away in slight confusion.

"Why would you think I'd stop?"

"Because I'm difficult. I have a difficult life and I've caused you pain." He said simply, shrugging his shoulders as if he had just said the sun was shining and it was a beautiful day.

"Why do you do things to push me away?"

"This is who I am Angelina, and you can't change me."

"We agreed not to lie to each other." She said, crossing her arms.

"I know, but I'm telling the truth. Half the time I have a voice in my head that tells me what I see isn't real, and then another time I have a voice in my head that tells me things are there and I know they're not. I'm going crazy and I think I want to break anything and everything that looks pretty and valuable. That includes you, because you are definitely both to me."

"Am I?" Angelina sighed theatrically, tossing her hair and garnering a smile from Harry. "Look, you know how I feel about you, and I'll tell you when I'm in the mood to change it. Right now you're stuck with me."

"That's something I can live with for a while." He joked; picking up his fork and inhaling half of his omelet in one go. "I have a few things to do today, I'll be back later."

"Let me guess. Just in time to just miss my parents." The tone in her voice stilled his rise from the seat.

"You know I don't feel comfortable with your parents, and frankly they don't appreciate the predicament I have their daughter in." He reminded her gently, noting her jaw still had the stubborn tilt that he had come to admire.

"I do believe I'm of age that it doesn't matter what my parents think."

"You love them too much to really believe that."

"You think you know me." Angelina shook her head as he came around the table and kissed her gently.

"You think I don't, but I do. I'll be back later. Do you want anything?"

"A potted orchid, because I don't see them in the garden. I miss them."

"Alright." Without another word Harry walked out the door, and she sighed as the plates disappeared from the table, leaving a sparkling clean surface, and Angelina wished everything was so easy.

> > > > >

"Are you well?" The formal tone came across very clear, and Angelina's smile tightened slightly.

"Yes mother, I am well." It was something they did in the beginning, the formality, the restraint. It was all so trivial, but you gave in to the games of those who couldn't face the reality head on. You envied them, because they could hide inside of the game; put their pain away, even if for a moment.

"You're still losing too much weight." Viviane twisted the diamond on her ring finger and tried to still her hands, but the nervousness was overwhelming, and they invariably strayed to the sash at her waist, the blush colored fabrictwisting around the slender fingers before falling back to the sapphire dress beneath.

Angelina watched the internal struggle with a faint smile. It was strange, because she didn't feel the way she used to . No longer was the need so prevalent to take on her mother's feelings so she may be the calm and cool person sheremembered. Now she was calm and cool. No, perhaps cold. Other people's emotion no longer invoked emotion inside. Perhaps that was a good thing.

"I'll more than likely gain it back. My appetite comes and goes sometimes. It's the potions; they have a very bitter taste and it ruins the food." She watched tear trickle down the side of her mother's perfect face and felt nothing but freezing cold inside. Quick as a hummingbird her hands rose and brushed it away and it was as if it never happened.

"Your father told me I wasn't to cry, and I won't."

"What did he promise?" Angelina smiled, and her mother huffed, tears forgotten.

"A ten thousand galleon shopping spree at Gladrags and a couple of my favorite boutiques. But it doesn't matter."

"Why not? You love shopping."

"Because I feel like you're not being honest with me." The words swung through the air and left ugly marks on the walls, and as Angelina's smile receded, so did she into her white dress, incidentally reflecting her mother's somewhat. It wasn't physical recoil, more so mental and emotional.

"What do you mean?"

"What do I mean? You're not happy here. Do you feel that your father and I think you're any different for what happened to you? You're just lucky that you didn't... turn is all I'm saying. Be glad and stop punishing yourself. You're always doing that. Why do you think your father and I never had to do it? Because you always beat us to the punch."

"Really. I'm not punishing myself." Angelina took a sip of her tea and let the anger go. "Don't you think you're being dramatic?"

"No, and you're not going to pull that with me young lady. You're still a young lady, in case you've forgotten. I think you've pulled yourself into spinsterhood without enjoying your youth first. That's why I always said it was a mistake for you to marry-"

"Do not insult my dead husband's name please. It doesn't make me …happy." The steel in Angelina's voice caused her mother to take a breath. The light gleamed off of the tightly coiled French roll in her hair, one of the Johnson family heirlooms, a sapphire comb, tucked into the side throwing back the sunlight in searing blue.

"I'm sorry dear. I… I didn't mean what I said."

"Don't worry. I didn't think you did." Angelina lied and Viviane let it pass as much always did between them. "So how is Father?"

"Busy as always. He's dedicated himself to figuring out how that… that thing got onto the premises."

"Werewolves are people too mother."

"So the thing that attacked you, almost killed you, and Harry too I might add, and you stick up for it?"

"No."

"Come home. I think you're a bit too close to the problem to see the solution. Your room is ready, or you can pick any of the houses." She rose to her feet, taking her hat in her hand and pulling on her gloves.

"No, I'll see you next week."

"Why must we continue to do this? Why have you made this place your prison?" Angelina opened her mouth to reply, but nothing came out. "Listen to me. Just please don't turn your back on life. You still have much to live for, and I still expect a grandchild from you. You're the only Johnson left to carry on the line, and whomever you have to chose will want a whole person, not just the person you let other people see now. That same person I thought you let die when you met Harry again. Perhaps he has become part of the problem daughter." Without another word she walked out of the study.

> > > > >

It was harder and harder to control. The calm that he felt he should hold on to was worming away quicker and quicker. It wasn't fair. Life wasn't fair. It wasn't right that he had some sort of instilled need to make the world better for everyone else, but not for himself. When it came to his own happiness… he just regretted not doing things when he had the chance. Because he was always saving the world.

Saving the world. The bitterness rang out in the silence, and the forest no longer had the peaceful feeling it did before his thoughts turned inward. This wasn't pity. Pity had no reason, no one to blame but the pitied… this was karmic wrong. A flock of birds took flight, and the distant hoof beats told of the centaurs moving around not too far away.

They wouldn't bother him, not with the pact they held after Hogwarts was invaded. They wouldn't dare bother him now, not when they realized they had someone more powerful than Dumbledore on their hands. His life became a lot easier when he bowed to his power, his fame and his fortune. But it also made him feel cheap, as if he took the easy way out.

"And what's wrong with that every once in a while? Why can't I enjoy something without giving something up first?" Harry asked aloud, and the trunk of the tree he was gazing at buckled under his power. Taking a deep breath he released his will and the tree stopped splintering. Nature didn't do what happened to him. It was a specific person who caused everything to happen. Verbatim Whitman.

"That's not totally fair." His balanced side said out loud, that calm voice that always spoke up when the insanity started with the melancholy. But he didn't want to listen today. He always listened. He always watched the door, felt the danger coming. Warned the others, worried and worried… what did it get him? A dead family in the ground, no one knowing but him. What type of life was that? A beautiful woman who was willing to give her happiness up for him, so he could be happy. That wasn't what he wanted. He didn't want to sacrifice anymore. Sacrifice… such a dirty word that was shined up to be pretty and noble. There is nothing noble about losing something you love and cherish.

"That means you're weak." There. He said it finally. The one thing he feared all along. He was too weak to find his own happiness… too weak to hold on to it. That's why Ginny died, that's why Angelina stays in a large house pining for her freedom and her life. Because he was weak. As soon as he came to the conclusion, something inside of him loosed and he stood up, looking around with new eyes. He knew what he had to do.

> >

Ron closed the fridge and allowed a red eyebrow to rise slowly. "Am I really seeing you or are you sending a projection again?"

"You said you wouldn't tell anybody about that." Harry smiled and stepped further into the room.

"And I haven't. How are you feeling?" He asked, putting down the plate he held and grabbing his firewhiskey and abruptly pouring two glasses.

"I'm far enough in front of a full moon to where I don't feel as edgy. My neck isn't bothering me right now, which is good. How are you doing?"

"Just getting by I supposed. I swear, Whitman has it in for me. We took some of our end exams." The contents of the glasses were consumed without speaking, and without either looking at each other. "But enough about stupid stuff, what's on your mind?"

"Who's to say I didn't stop by to visit?"

"Because you've stopped visiting."

"So have you."

"Only because you make me feel bad." Harry nodded slowly and shrugged.

"It's a gift I suppose." Ron laughed picked up his sandwich again.

"Do you want anything?"

"No, I ate before I came." He lied smoothly, and followed his friend into the living room. "I keep thinking about that night. Something's off about it."

Ron took a huge bite, almost cutting the sandwich in half in one go. "I think about it too… usually when I'm trying to forget it." He said around the food.

"I can't forget it."

"I know." Ron swallowed and he sighed. "I didn't mean to sound like I was trying to put it past me. I know it's something you have to deal with for the rest of your life."

"Yeah, it is… but that's not what I'm talking about. I see it too, every time I blink, or try to go to sleep. I don't blame you for trying to forget. If I could, I would."

" So what about that night sticks out as strange, other than the fact that the bastard turned you into a werewolf with a totally out of the blue attack? I mean, you had nothing against Fenrir because every indication we had showed that he was being used… we left him alone. Lupin asked that we didn't go after any werewolves so whatwas his malfunction?"

"You've thought of this before, haven't you?" Harry accused him, half pleased that someone was thinking about him.

"Of course. The whole two weeks you were almost dying I thought about it. What I don't understand is how did Greyback know that you were going to be at that party? How did he know to target Angelina or was she just a random choice because she saw the deer? I've ran these through my mind a dozen times, and nothing stands out other than the oddness."

"I wonder… does Hermione keep a pensive? Mine was stolen, remember?"

"Stupid Rita Skeeter. I wish I could have been there when they obliviated her." Ron said venomously. "That was below foul when she took it."

"That's in the past. She's forgotten where she's put it, so I need another one. I need to stop running from that night and pick it apart. That's what we're trained for right? To see what others wouldn't?" Harry smiled and leaned back onto the arm of the couch. "At least, that's what you're trained for."

"Blimey Harry, if you would just talk to the minister, I'm sure that he would allow you back in the program. I mean, really… Lupin comesin and out ofthe Ministry all the time and he's a known werewolf. No one is going to care, and the Daily Prophet is showing that most of the wizarding world wouldn't either. You're changing public opinion, and it's time you used that to do something you want for a change."

"I need to figure out what I want to do first."

"Bullocks. You already know what you want to do. You knew before you got here. The thing is, are you going to clue me in before you go off by yourself, or do I have to resort to detective work to track you down?"

"I haven't decided yet. You can't come along this time Ron. You have a wife and a family on the way… and a job that you said yourself, you can't afford to lose." Ron clenched his jaw and thought carefully over his words before proceeding.

"Harry, you do know that I would go to hell with you and back. You do understand that right?"

"Ron-"

"The one thing you haven't had to ask for was my cooperation. I've been a bit pig headed at times, and sometimes I don't know how to deal with my own emotions. I'm a coward half of the time and the other time I'm so afraid I can't feel it. But I would go to the end of the earth and back with you, because I owe you so much." He said quietly, and Harry stared at him.

"You can't sacri- give your life like that anymore. It's no longer yours."

"Rubbish!"

"It belongs to Hermione, and the baby girl you're going to have. I appreciate the offer, but I have to do this alone. I will kill him when I find him. No trial, no restraint. I will pull his intestines out by his navel, and I will laugh as he dies." Ron paled at the graphic description and knew that Harry was being deadly honest.

"All I ask is that you bring me back his head… somehow that Hermione doesn't see. She doesn't like the sight of blood right now." Ron unexpectedly winked and Harry laughed, the serious feel going out of the conversation.

"Speaking of which, or should I say witch , where is 'Mione?"

"Staying late finishing up some filing. She leaves work on leave in a couple of weeks. I honestly hope that Ministry doesn't collapse while she's gone."

"I'm sure it will." Harry rubbed his eyes and laughed. "Hermione is the crutch of sanity and competency to their lame invalid of idiocy."

"Goodness, that's a metaphor for the locker room. I'll have to write that down." Ron laughed and poured some more firewhiskey.

> > > > >

She wasn't supposed to be down here, but the almost perfect photographic memory allowed to her to evade capture this far. All she needed to know was if it were real or not. Hermione pulled her wand out of her hair, the bun it was holding up cascading down her back as she tapped the lock and found it free of charms. Perhaps no one was supposed to get this far. Really… the arrogance of these people….

The cupboard pulled open easily, and the book laid there, mocking her in its dusty stillness. If her calculations were correct… she only had about five minutes to find the manuscript and leave without rousing suspicion. If she were found she would be killed without question. Skimming quickly, discarding useless yet fascinating research, she found herself unable to breathe as she pulled the yellowed parchment from the book, sandwiched in between pages that were so old that they felt as if they'd fall to dust if they were breathed on too hard.

Hazarding a look over her shoulder, she shoved the precious pages in her bosom and closed the cupboard back, and walked out. She couldn't properly breathe until she had made it past the spells, and the guards and the security and the aurors who watched her fly by in a barely concealed run for her freedom, and the freedom of someone else.

> >

Luna looked up and the Floo leaped to life, and she frowned as she saw who entered. "Hermione, you're not supposed to be traveling by Floo. I thought we talked about this?" She asked, rising from her seat.

"I'm sorry." Was all she said as she held out what she found. Luna gazed at her briefly before looking down at what she held in her hand.

"What's this?"

"Just read it." She opened it and started reading. Halfway through she had to stumble to her chair, never once taking her eyes off of the paper.

"This can't be real."

"Why not? You don't think it's authentic?"

"No, because the author has been dead for over a century and I've read all of his work. I would have remembered this." Luna folded it and handed it back, shaking her head. "It couldn't be real."

"Why not? I'm not totally inept in the medical field. He's onto something." She said as she sat down across from the blonde.

"Hermione, he's on to more than something. I… where did you get it?"

"I can't say. I know they're already looking for it." That alone told Luna what she needed to know.

"We need to talk, but not here. Meet me at my house in an hour. If you're not coming send an owl with a purple string on its left leg. If I don't receive that I will assume that you're dead and I will go blast the Ministry of Magic to rubble. Are we clear?" Luna smoothed her Medic robes and stood. "I have my rounds to finish." Hermione nodded and looked at the paper, suddenly afraid.