Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.

A/N: Wow….erm…I don't know what to tell you guys other than *sorry*. I don't know if anyone is still interested in reading this, or if you've been following this at all, but I want to apologise to people who were loyally reading it. I know how much it sucks when authors don't update continuously.

Here's what happened: I lost motivation for this story, and started working on other projects, mostly original. I also feel like it's time to find a greener fandom. I've loved the HP fandom for much of my fanfic career, hell most of my childhood, but I think I should let sleeping dogs lie.

Tl:dr; On the bright side, it's been two years, so I'm a much better writer than when I started this so long ago. On the dark side, it's been Two Years.


You've been howling at the moon like a slack jaw fool

And breaking every rule they can throw on

But one of these days it's gonna be right soon

You'll find your legs and go and stay gone

-XX-XX-XX-XX-XX

Thursday, August, 1991

Three Days Later

Remus came to with a horrible headache, a blurry, dark room and the sounds of two people going at each other's throats.

He watched fuzzily as Lily stood in front of the bed next to his, arms akimbo, soundly berating a man who was trying his best not to look cowed and utterly failing.

"He's injured!" she shouted, pointing a finger threateningly. "And if you had any sense at all, you'd slink back to that office of yours and leave us in peace and quiet."

"Mrs. Potter—"

"That's Professor Potter," Lily said icily. "They don't call me a Potions Mistress for laughs, Dawlish."

"We need to get a proper account of the fight."

"You have mine. Sirius'. Alice's. Frank's. Peter's. Now leave my husband alone."

"I'll talk to Lupin, then."

Lily's heels clicked dangerously across the floor and Remus quickly shut his eyes.

"You won't be talking to either of them unless I approve it," Lily snapped, and he imagined the ire flashing in her green eyes, protective instincts out in grand style.

The heavy footsteps of John Dawlish traipsed to the exit, and Remus opened his eyes, watching a blurry Lily sink into a chintz armchair by his head.

"Brilliant, Lily," Remus complimented, hoarsely. He tried smiling, but it pulled at the cut on his face.

"You're awake!" Lily fairly beamed. "How long have you been awake?"

"Long enough to hear you give Dawlish a tongue lashing he'll never forget," Remus said, clearing his throat. "Probably warning the others about you."

"He'd better," Lily muttered, pouring him a glass of water. "Drink that. You sound like you've been snogging sandpaper."

"Such compliments," murmured Remus, drinking the water down nevertheless. He looked to his right, at James' slack face. "What happened to James?"

"Alice and Frank found him and brought him in," Lily said quietly, her fingers twisting the fabric of her royal blue robes. "He's been unconscious for the past three days."

Remus slopped water down his front. "Three days?"

"It's August 2nd," Lily replied, looking bewildered at his reaction.

"Three days," Remus said numbly.

Lily narrowed her eyes. "What's the last thing you remember?"

"The full moon...no...no.." Remus closed his eyes. "Being at the restaurant. Being Crucioed."

Lily winced. "Yes."

"There was a battle..." He sagged back onto the pillows wearily, rubbing his hand across his forehead. "And we were in the alley. That's it. That's all I remember."

"You were very ill," said Lily, patting his hand. "The after-effects of the full moon combined with the battle sapped your reserves of magical energy."

Remus opened his eyes. "What does that mean?"

"That you shouldn't be casting anything more taxing than Wingardium Leviosa at least until the school year starts," came the strident voice of a Healer.

The dark haired wizard strode into the room, green robes flapping authoritatively behind him. "Well, there, Mr. Lupin, joining the living, I see?"

"Healer Boot, always a pleasure," Remus croaked.

Lily poured him another glass of water.

Riley Boot eyed Remus critically as he waved his wand over Remus' body. "You've been in and out for the past three days, with periods of lucidity being few and far in between."

"There are some gaps in his memory," Lily said immediately, leaning forward. "He doesn't remember any of it."

Traitor, Remus thought. He pulled his hand away from hers.

"I'm not surprised," Boot said, Summoning a roll of parchment and scribbling at it furiously. "That's a side effect of the potions we gave him."

"What happened exactly?"

"It's called magical exhaustion," Boot said in clipped, precise tones. "You see, every time you transform, your reserves of magical energy are depleted. That's why you feel fatigued for several days after a full moon."

And pain. Lots of pain.

He looked at Remus to make sure he was following.

Remus gave a little nod. "Go on."

"As you might know, the Cruciatus Curse also depletes the victim's magical energy. The side effect, is, of course, pain."

"Yes," Remus murmured, biting back the instinct to remind Boot just exactly what his patient specialized in.

"Combining the two of these events within such a short period of time, as you did, can cause your magical energy levels to sink below a certain point, causing headaches, weakness, dizziness, blackouts. Unfortunately, we can only treat the symptoms; the real cure is time and rest."

"How long will it take to recover?" Remus said, fighting the urge to panic.

Living as a Muggle wouldn't be bad, but I'll be useless to the Order. They need me on the front lines. I can't be out of commission for more than a week. Transformations interrupt operations as it is.

"You'll regain your energy within the next couple of days, but the symptoms will last for a couple of weeks. In these cases, maintaining homeostasis is a real concern. We don't advise doing any heavy spells until at least two weeks after the incident."

"Heavy spells such as..." Remus let himself trail off.

"Not even Apparation," Boot said sharply. "And you're certainly not to fight Death Eaters."

"Death Eaters?" Remus said blandly. He looked over at Lily, who was wearing a similar, but less convincing innocent expression. "I'm afraid I don't know what you're talking about. I'm just a teacher, Healer Boot."

"I hope you're more than that," Boot said, lowering his voice. He looked around and drew the curtains around Remus' bed.

Lily took his cue and cast a Muffilato around the area.

Boot dug his hands into the pockets of his robes. "My nephew's going to Hogwarts year, Lupin. You'll keep him safe, won't you?"

Remus and Lily exchanged glances.

"We'll do our best," Remus said, knowing that lately, his best wasn't much of a guarantee.

"Terry's a good kid," Boot said. A pained grimace passed across his face. "I've done my best to raise him right...but he needs his parents."

Boot shook his head, mouth set in a stern line. "And the worst part of it is that the bastards who did it are allowed to walk around like they did nothing wrong."

"Who?" asked Lily.

"Barty Crouch and Regulus Black."


Regulus felt the burning of the Mark beneath the heavy silk of his dress robes. He rubbed at it absently, struggling to keep his disinterested face on, when all he really wanted to do was Apparate away to ease the burning.

"What say you, Mr. Black?" asked Lyle Huling, the portly fellow with whom he was dining.

Regulus raised an eyebrow.

He hadn't the faintest idea what the other man had been saying, but he wasn't about to admit that to Huling. So, Regulus would fall back on his old, tried and true methods: insults.

He yawned extravagantly. "Finally come to your point, did you? I feel asleep somewhere around the third paragraph of your monologue."

Lyle flushed, as snickers erupted around the table. "Now see here, Black, I'm tired of you constantly shirking your responsibility—"

"I have no responsibility to listen to your ceaseless prattle, Huling," Regulus snapped, standing up.

If he was going to leave, he might as well make it look good.

"In fact, I have no responsibility to be here at all. Ta."

And Regulus walked out of the meeting to his boss' utter surprise, only to go to a staff meeting of another kind.

He Apparated in a cemetery, popping among the tombstones with a loud crack.

He was not the last one to arrive, nor the first, which pleased him. Standing out meant getting singled out, and he would rather be a 'loyal', rank and file Death Eater than suffer the Dark Lord's mercurial wrath by being a chosen favourite.

Regulus made point of staying clear of Snape, who was a talented Legilmens and the other mental threat besides Voldemort. Regulus himself was an accomplished Occulmens—managing to keep Voldemort unaware of his true identity for the past decade was no small feat.

He acknowledged Bellatrix, but did not approach, not in the mood for cryptic, insane exchanges. He remained very fortunate that she did not have the patience nor aptitude for the subtleties of Occulmency—the idea of letting his lunatic cousin ravage through his mind was enough to make him shudder.

And Blacks didn't shudder. It was unseemly.

Andrew Nott caught his eye, and Regulus headed in that direction, only to stop short as he caught sight of the Carrow siblings. But Nott gave a little wave—deep enthusiasm for Drew—and so Regulus kept going, steeling himself for a confrontation.

"It's ickle Reggie," one of them said, voice raising horridly in a taunt.

"Fuck off," Regulus said, whipping out his wand and holding at the Carrow's throat. "I don't need a reason, Alecto. The Dark Lord won't miss you—in fact, he might even thank me for ridding him of a buffoon like yourself."

Nott smirked. "Temper, Regulus."

"Remind me, Drew, what we do to bugs that don't behave?" Regulus grinned savagely, all of his frustration coming out.

"I think we squash them."

"Too good," Regulus drawled. He twirled his wand idly. "I think I know exactly what to—"

"The Dark Lord," Nott said suddenly.

Regulus slid his wand back into his sleeve, and inclined his head in a subservient manner. The rest of the Death Eaters fell silent, gathering instinctively in a circle like the Druids of old.

Amid the whispering of black silk robes, Voldemort appeared in the middle of the circle with all the theatricality of a Muggle magician. Ruby eyes glared critically out from a face that had once handsome and was now twisted with evil.

He spread his arms out. "Welcome."