Author's note: This is the very last chapter which was written by the amazing Leda Medea, after this one I shall be continuing myself and hoping to live up to the great start she has given me. Once again, I want to say thank you to her for allowing me to continue this fic and also thanks to everyone who has reviewed!

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Chapter 10!

"What do you mean, you have business in France and won't be back for a few days? You're always leaving, Moony, and I don't think you're just going to promote werewolf alliances or whatever cock and bull story you want me to believe. What have you really been doing?"

Remus knew it had been a mistake to keep Harry unaware of his transformations, but it had been so much easier to just keep pretending. Though, he should have seen this coming; he had raised Harry to be a bright and curious young man, after all. It was a miracle he hadn't figured it out years ago.

He said quietly, "I think it would be best if we took this to Dumbledore's office, Harry."

Harry seethed with anger. He had known for a long while now that Remus was not telling him the full truth; he always disappeared every month or so, for a few days, and coming back looking like the living dead. He'd done this so many times, and with so many ridiculous excuses, that it hadn't taken Harry long to suspect something was amiss. He'd gone through all sorts of theories; was Remus seeing someone? Or selling stolen goods? Maybe he had a secret job as an assassin? He knew these theories were ridiculous, though, and so, after about six months of heavy thought, he confronted his guardian in a bout of anger. It frustrated him to no end that Remus wasn't being honest with him; he wasn't stupid for his age; in fact, he was quite clever. So why didn't Remus trust him with what he was doing?

Remus passed him the jar of floo powder, and he took it with a frown. Now he was concerned; what was so important that it had to be discussed in Dumbledore's office? His stomach jolted, and his mind gave way for a second to the idea that Remus actually was an assassin. He shook his head lightly, and threw the floo into the grate, stepping in and shouting 'Hogwarts Castle – Headmaster's Office!' He started to spin and instantly felt the nausea that came with this type of travel.

He stepped out of the grate and into the office – rather clumsily – and saw Dumbledore, looking positively serene, sitting behind his desk in his cozy high-backed chair. He sat before the headmaster and waited for Remus.

It didn't take long; after all, they were floo'ing within the same building. Remus popped out – much more gracefully than Harry had – from the grate and took his place in the chair to the right of Harry's. Dumbledore folded his hands before him and smiled.

"To what do I owe this pleasure, Remus?"

Remus fiddled with the edge of his cloak, making Harry frown; he only did this when he was exceptionally nervous. "He figured it out, Dumbledore. He figured it out."

Harry's eyes widened. Was there really something going on here? He hoped to all the gods that his theories hadn't been correct. "What do you mean I figured it out? What did I figure out?"

Dumbledore nodded; he stood and grabbed a large tome from one of his many bookcases, taking it down and setting in on his desk. Harry read the title – "A Witch and Wizard's Guide to Werewolves – Trinity Henriguez". His confusion deepened.

"Harry," Dumbledore began, "What do you know about werewolves?"

Harry frowned. "They are regular human beings except for on the full moon, when they turn into a werewolf, retaining no control over their wolf desires and instincts."

Remus sighed; Dumbledore nodded thoughtfully. "And what is your opinion of these beings?"

Harry's frown deepened. What did this have to do with anything? Was Remus part of a werewolf protection league or something?

"They're just like us, sir, except on full moons. I really don't see why-"

"So you're saying you have no opposition to these people?"

Harry shook his head. "No, I don't; unless they're changed and ripping my throat out, of course."

Remus grimaced.

"Harry, do you know the telltale signs of a werewolf?"

"I suppose. They're often sickly and scratched of course, from their transformations…they age much faster than normal people because of the stress the change puts on their bodies. And…and they're often...often making odd excuses for being gone…"

Harry's stomach dropped. Was Remus a werewolf? Was that what Dumbledore was trying to tell him?

"You don't…he's not…I mean…He's never…"

Dumbledore steepled his fingers. "Tell me, Harry. Have you noticed over the years how Remus has often been rushing off to meet appointments? Or see supposedly old friends? Or how he comes back each time looking much worse than when he left?"

Harry felt like vomiting. He glanced at Remus; the man was sitting with his face in his hands, not looking at Dumbledore or himself. Was this really happening?

"Are you telling me Remus is a…is a werewolf?"

Remus's head snapped up so fast Harry thought it just might pop off; he looked at Harry with a desperate pleading in his eyes. "Believe me, Harry, when I say that I have always, always wanted to tell you. I've just…I am just so afraid, so deeply and utterly afraid, of what you'd think of me once you knew the truth. I'm so, so sorry…Harry, please, forgive me. I-"

Harry shook his head. "You think I would be angry with you for being a werewolf? For something you have no control over? Just how ignorant do you believe me to be? I'm angrier with the fact that you've been lying to me for almost five years now. Why did you think you couldn't tell me? There's nothing wrong with having a…a…furry little problem."

Remus's jaw had dropped. "I…Harry, hatred of werewolves is deeply rooted into all societies, but especially the magical one. I didn't think you were ignorant or anything like that, I just…I was afraid you would want to leave, to go back to the Dursleys, once you knew the truth, and I- I couldn't have handled that."

Dumbledore's piercing blue eyes landed on Harry, and he felt as if his soul was laid bare. Of course he had no problem with Remus being a werewolf; how inconsiderate and foolish would that have been? He loved Moony more than anything in the world, and the man had taken so much care for Harry not to be around his furred counterpart that the boy hadn't even known. He felt embarrassed and ashamed that he hadn't figured it out sooner.

"I'm sorry, Remus," he said quietly. "I should have known you would never keep something from me that would hurt me. Forgive me?"

"Remus shook his head profusely. "No, Harry…why would you think you need to be forgiven? I should've told you sooner, I should've set you down and let you ease into this instead of having you figure it out by yourself. I'm so sorry, Harry."

Dumbledore stood, clasping Harry and Remus on the back, and setting his book back on it's shelf. "You see, Remus? I knew he'd have no qualms about it." His eyes twinkled merrily. "And now, I say we get Remus settled for his transformation. I daresay we'll have an easier time of it now."

Harry let Remus take him into a fierce hug. "No more secrets, cub," Remus whispered, "I promise, no more secrets."

Harry nodded into the older man's shoulder and let him lead the trio through the door and down the spiral staircase. "So…where do we go from here?"

By seven that night, everything was set for Remus's transformation. His guardian had taken his Wolfsbane (a potion that allows its werewolf drinker to keep his or her mind during the werewolf stage), prepared his body by stretching and exercising (to make the wolf tired out so that he could, hopefully, sleep through the whole thing), and set him in the shrieking shack, a place that was supposedly haunted. Harry felt incredibly stupid, realizing that he had been oblivious to the fact that Remus had stayed relatively within school grounds every time he left to go on one of him many excused absences. Dumbledore let him stay in his guest quarters, to make sure Harry was not all by himself with his concerns for his guardian.

The night went by incredibly slow; he and Dumbledore watched through the Office window as the full moon rose up in the night sky; Harry could've sworn he heard a distant howl, but then put it off as his imagination. He shivered. Remus was changing this very moment, and there was nothing Harry could do to help him.

Harry sat with the headmaster for almost half an hour, before the elder wizard tapped him on the shoulder. "Harry, I believe it is time to get some rest. We shall go see our dear friend in the morning; right now, all we can do is dream."

So the two went their separate ways and slept away the rest of the night.

Remus sat on the broken, torn sofa in the shrieking shack, bracing himself for his transformation. He thought about Harry, as he did every time he sat in this sad, dilapidated building, and wondered, not for the first time, what Harry was thinking. He supposed it was about him tonight; this morning's revelation had been a shock, to say the least. Remus hadn't thought the boy would figure it out until well into his school years, but he had been wrong. Harry was clever; he shouldn't have been surprised.

The moon started to peek above the night's clouds, and Remus flinched. The wolf inside of him was clawing at his insides, desperate to get out for the night and roam the countryside. The Wolfsbane potion helped considerably, but not enough to completely subdue the wolf; it was still an aching madness inside of him, just not as terrible and deep as it was meant to be.

Remus first felt his arms and legs stretch out; the familiar pain was no less hard to bear than it was his first change, but Remus beared it much better. Next was his torso, and then his feet, and finally his face; the fur started to sprout up, and Remus felt his vision change from human to wolf-like. His nose turned wet and he could smell the hours-old stench of Albus Dumbledore, who had sat on the couch next to him, and his charge Harry Potter, still stinking up the armchair. He let out a whine; his voice had gone, replaced with his animalistic growls and whines. The smell of his cub evoked an aching hole inside him, and he longed to run up to the castle and take him away with him. He fought the thought of that; he didn't want to think of Harry before he changed, for it would only be a harder night if he did. Instead, his last human thought was that of the book Dumbledore had shown Harry, and how he would ask Dumbledore when he got back if he could read it. And then, he was gone.

Harry awoke to sunlight streaming through a large window, right upon his face. He grunted and slipped out of bed, confusion sprouting as he realized he was not in his own room. Then he remembered; he was in Dumbledore's guest room, and Remus was down in the Shrieking Shack, and he's…

He's a werewolf.

Harry shook his head in wonderment at his own stupidity. How had he not seen the signs? Remus was always sickly and pale, and was always leaving…he always told Harry the second he started to smell, or when something on his person looked the tiniest bit out of place. And when Remus got angry, he was almost primal, in a way that Harry had always thought frightening. He was glad his guardian was so even-tempered.

He stepped out of the Headmaster's Guest Room and into the attached bathroom, taking a quick shower before going down to greet the (hopefully awake) headmaster. He wasn't disappointed; Dumbledore was sitting in his special common room, sipping on Earl Grey and looking as though he was waiting for Harry to come down to see him.

"Ah, Harry," Dumbledore smiled. His eyes twinkled merrily. "You've slept well, I trust?"

Harry nodded. "Yes, sir," he said. "Thank you for letting me stay in your rooms."

Dumbledore waved the thanks away. "You know you're welcome here any time, Harry. I'm afraid, though, you might have to stay here a while longer; Remus usually sleeps almost the whole day after his transformations, you see. He tells me they are a bit tiring."

Harry choked out a laugh.

"Now, my dear boy," Dumbledore said. "What would you like to do today? It is summer, after all, and growing boys such as yourself hardly ever wish to stay inside. What do you say to a day in Hogsmeade, my treat?"

Harry brightened instantly. "Well, if it's not too much trouble on yourself, sir, that sounds great."

Dumbledore clapped his hands. "No trouble at all, my boy! I've wanted to renew my stock of lemon drops and Bertie Bott's for a couple weeks now, and this outing shall prove to be beneficial to my sweet tooth." He smiled jovially and stood, straightening his silver and neon yellow robes. "Off we go!"