James stared: there was something not quite right about this; something too many centuries had past for him to remember. A young boy with dark hair hiding from his mother behind a counter before all went to hell; but what could it mean… So many memories made no sense anymore.

Sirius Black looked around him in interest, a large werewolf with the attitude of a beta standing very closed behind him with a dark expression, daring anyone to approach. He acted a bit like Remus had, looming behind James until werewolves stopped calling him names for his pureblood back ground, until the bullying stopped. Werewolves tended to take things too far.

The blond alpha crossed his eyes, and he saw his face change; unhidden pain for the smallest moment of adjustment; a small gasp that his lips couldn't hold; and his eyes flickered to Remus for so small a time but James could have bet that the pain had increase in that small time. He turned away from them; and suddenly things changed. His hair turned black, growing past his shoulders and down his knees at an alarming rate, loosely tressed with silver threads, intricate silver jewels adorning it; and the smell rose over, something smooth and ancient like old wine, that James had never smelt because emus had saved him from that part of the war but that he remembered at once. Pureblood.

"Blimey", muttered Salim. The young prince was looking the man over with obvious lust:

"Couldn't he be turned, father?" he muttered, long lashes lowered in appraisal: "I want him."

Black snorted:

"Well said I'm sure, at least for a petulant three years old."

"You will respect you betters," jumped his beta with fury etched on his face.

"Oh I do respect my betters. But they ain't you."

"I dare you?"

Black popped out of existence, appearing with a silver blade on his throat with a smooth popping sound:

"Do yourself a favour, moron, and shut your bloody mouth!"

He disappeared again, back to his…Well the werewolf couldn't be a beta now could he? Was he even a werewolf. The feral growl he let out looking at Salim's beta was proof enough that he was.

"Now here comes, I'm here to discuss a treaty."

Salim laughed lightly:

"Oh please, why in the love of God would we make a treaty with you!"

Black laughed at him:

"Because if you don't, I will advance; again and again, taking every town, every city; and killing every werewolf if I have to, and one way or another, humans will have their kingdom."

"Why do you care about mere humans?" suddenly asked James, finally remembering the feeling. "The Blacks always were prejudiced against muggles."

"You stand him, too much of a coward to look in the eyes of the people you ruin forever. Tell me, do you feel justified in this. The great, open minded James Potter, who had a werewolf as a best friend. Do you look in their eyes? Do you look in the eyes of a three year old toddler as you inject the poison that will dull their brains and loose them forever, or do you not even bother? When I came here, you know, my people told me to just curse you all into oblivion, and believe me when I tell you how close I was to do it. You call yourselves princes? You call yourselves noble and brave, and there you are attacking three year old infants everyday of your life, and not even caring anymore; royalty cares about every one of his subjects not just the ones they choose. Or else their tyrants. Not that you'd understand the difference, would you? It's the same for you."

"How dare you!..."

"I DARE BECAUSE YOU STAND AT THIS TABLE ACTING LIKE RULLERS WHEN YOU'RE NO MORE THAT CHILDREN IN POWERFUL ROBES, PLAYING WITH THE LIVES OF PEOPLE. Now I hope it was fun because if you don't accept that contract, you will have a war on your hands that you are doomed to loose. Remember; we know of your weakness now, and the mines of Amedia will not run out of silver to mould before centuries on end. We are the immortals, now, but as I see you will not be prevailed upon, I shall return to my own. Send your messenger with a white flag when you realise how much of an idiot you are. Not that I complain. Just means that the contract will be on our terms."

He grabbed the werewolf that had accompanied him and casually popped them out of existence.

A couple of hundred years later

"Remus."

The blond werewolf stood up immediately from the breakfast table:

"Father?"

Aruma shook his head:

"No son, don't bother." He took a deep sight: "What has become of your army then?"

"Dead, well most of them. As should I."

"Whatever do you mean?"

"I met him in battle, Finstern as they call him, the king of the Night Veil. But he didn't kill me. He held his blade on my throat but the strangest expression overtook his face; and he let go; disappearing in the battle like a ghost of blood. I still wish I understood."

"He seems somewhat partial towards you. I was going to send Salim, because, well…"

"Because he's such a slut?" suggested James.

Remus stifled a laughter, and the emperor's lips cracked a small smiled.

"Are we to make a peace treaty, then, father?"

"A peace treaty, I'm afraid would be on their terms; as he said rightfully all those years ago. I should wish I had listened then. No, the only way we will not be robbed as the losers of this war is to make this an alliance."

"A royal wedding," guessed Remus. "Like with the vampires."

"Yes…A wedding…"