Part Ten: "Cold Shower"

It took the better part of the morning for Sirius to calm down enough to even meet Ana's eyes. He was swaying, dizzy, and confused. Remus remained beside him on the bed to help keep him upright. The werewolf rubbed soothing hands up and down his hysterical friend's spine.

Remus was doing his best to avoid meeting Sirius' eyes, but it was difficult. The grey had brightened into piercing silver. Like Ana's eyes, Sirius' now seemed to be lit from within by some sort of angelic or demonic light.

Sirius had a million and one questions. He barely stuttered out one before another would occur to him, and Ana couldn't even draw breath to answer before he was questioning her again.

Ana let this go on for all of five minutes before she raised her hand from the arm of her chair and silenced Sirius.

Frustrated, she told him that, under no uncertain circumstances, he would sit down, curl up in a blanket, relax, and drink off the entirety of the flask she gave him.

Then they would talk.

She'd had Kreacher bring up the flask earlier and set it in a shallow cauldron of water, which she then hung over the fireplace. When the water had boiled and warmed the blood from the butcher's that she had put inside the flask, she took off the pot and let it cool for five minutes or so. She then fished the flask out, wrapped it in a tea towel, and handed it to Sirius.

He hesitated only as long as it took for the bloodsmell to tickle his nose. Then he lifted the neck of the flask to his lips and drank until it was dry. He tossed the flask away and it skittered across the floor and hit the wall with a dull thunk that made Remus jump.

The colour began to fill his lips and cheeks immediately, his body growing rosy with the stolen blood. He stopped swaying and stared up at Ana. "Blood?"

She nodded and he looked as if he was ready to retch.

"Don't you dare puke," she scolded him from the wingbacked chair. "Your breakfast cost me a pretty penny."

"And I don't want to have stains on my robes," Remus added kindly, laying a gentle hand on his friend's shoulder.

Sirius made a face, then forced out a smile. "I won't be sick. I'm fine."

"Good." Ana lifted herself from her chair and crossed the room to stand before Sirius. "Up. Stand up."

"What?"

Ana grabbed his arm and shoved the coverlet off him and pulled him into the centre of the room. Slowly she walked around him, inspecting his skin closely.

Sirius shot a 'help me!' glance to Remus, who shrugged and sat back to watch the show.

Finally Ana came back around to the front and looked up into his eyes. "You look good - so scarring, no venom, and all in one piece. Congratulations, Sirius Black... you're dead."

Remus barked out a laugh. "That's the most surreal thing I think I've ever heard."

Sirius stuck a finger in his ear and wiggled it. "You think that's surreal? You should hear you."

"Huh?"

Ana smiled at Remus. "He means your voice - Vampires have very acute hearing. I don't know how Werewolf hearing compares, but we can hear pretty much everything. I can hear your heart beat, the blood in your veins, the workings of your tummy... and werewolves have this low growly quality to their voices that no other creature has."

Remus looked slightly perturbed. "That's... ah... interesting. How come it never says so in the books?"

"Name one Wizard or Witch who's actually bothered to interview a Vampire."

Remus nodded, "Good point," and decided that there was a golden opportunity in his hands. If he couldn't teach DADA, he could at least write articles in scholarly journals about it... he'd written all he could about werewolves. Perhaps it was time he moved onto a new subject...

"My... skin feels funny..." Sirius admitted after a short silence. He scrubbed his arms with the palms of his hands irritably.

Ana returned her gaze to him, eyes narrowed. "Define 'funny'."

"Hot... too tight... it hurts underneath... under my skin… in my..." he trailed off, uncertain how to finish his sentence.

"In your blood?"

Sirius nodded.

"You're hungry," Ana said and cocked her head to the side. "I expected you would be."

"But, the flask..."

"Not enough. Not that little, especially for a new-one like you. That was just to take the edge off."

"You have some more downstairs, right?" Sirius' voice raised slightly towards the end of the sentence, desperation creeping in, tinged with fear.

Ana shook her head. " 'Fraid not. I bought just enough for two cups - one for you, one for me. Stuff doesn't keep well without a fridge."

Remus pulled himself to his feet. "I can go see if there's a shop nearby. Surely there must be another butcher who--"

Ana cut him off "No." Remus blinked but closed his mouth. "This will sound harsh and abrupt and maybe you think I'm moving too fast, but Sirius has to learn how to fend for himself. Tonight."

"But," Remus pressed, "It's hours until sunset!"

"Ana, please," Sirius said softly. "Don't make me. Not yet."

"If not now, then when?" Ana said.

"Ana..."

"What if something happens to me tomorrow and I can't be here to help you through this?"

"Nothing will happen. Can't we just stick with the--"

"It's not healthy to drink dead blood, blood removed from a body, all the time."

Sirius grabbed her hands in his, his silver eyes wide, showing more white than grey. "Please, Ana, I can't, not yet, it's too soon…"

"No!" She wrenched her hands out of his large warm ones and turned her back on him, crossing her arms. "Sirius, don't argue with me. I am calling on rain now - which I expect you to be able to do by the end of the month - and when it starts, we will be going hunting."

"Ana!"

"We will be going hunting. End of discussion." She stomped towards the door and wrenched it open. The metal hinges groaned in protest as she almost twisted them apart. "Get dressed," she said over her shoulder, and then walked out. She slammed the door shut behind her, making the whole wall rattle, and her footsteps could be heard as she stormed across the hall and down stairs.

Sirius stood in the middle of the room, blinking at the closed door, arms wrapped around himself. "What the hell was that?"

Beside him, Remus sighed and sat down on the foot of the bed again. "She's not mad at you."

"The Hell she isn't!" He gestured emphatically at the door, pulling the coverlet back around his bare shoulders. "That was a fucking temper tantrum!"

"She's tired," Remus said softly, "and upset. And worried about you. Her Sire abandoned her without teaching her a thing. I think she's determined to make sure the same thing doesn't happen to you."

Sirius turned to his friend, his bare feet making a soft 'shush' sound against the bare floor. "She doesn't have to be such a totalitarian bitch about it."

Remus narrowed his eyes at his friend. They had known each other most of their lives and it still baffled him that Sirius could be so naïve sometimes.

"Your legendary stubbornness isn't going to make her less upset," Remus scolded.

"What does she have to be upset about? I'm the one who just died." Sirius growled low in his throat once and threw himself onto the bed. He lay down and frowned at the ceiling. He crossed his ankles and tucked his hands behind his head, scowling.

"That's why she's upset. Padfoot..." Remus lay down beside his friend and joined him in staring at the ceiling. "She's feels guilty, you know. She told me so. She feels like this is all her fault."

"It is her fault."

"Padfoot!"

"Okay, so maybe it's not all her fault. But I just..." Sirius closed his eyes and took a deep breath, and held it... and held it... and held it...

"Are you going to exhale?"

"Right. Damn. Forgot." Sirius shook his head. "This'll take some getting used to."

Silence descended for a moment, as each man contemplated what this new development meant in their lives.

"Do you remember, Moony, back in second year, when I got to go to your house for Christmas Holidays?"

Remus turned his head on his hands to look at his friend's profile. If he looked closely enough, he thought he could see pudgy-cheeked twelve year old with the scandalously long hair and the mischief-filled grey eyes under the weary stamp of seventeen years of hard living. "Yeah - you put a frog in my parent's bed. Sirius, where did you find a frog on Christmas eve?"

"Transfigured a Chocolate one." Sirius grinned.

Remus could see the wicked sharpness of his eyeteeth, even though his fangs were currently retracted, and shivered slightly, remembering the feeling of willingly submitting to his friend earlier... the graze of those teeth over his sensitive skin, the inward shiver of anticipation, the pressing on his gaze, the eerie lack of body heat as Sirius leaned close... Remus shoved the memory away. He pinched the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes.

"Why do you ask?"

"Hm?"

"Why do you ask if I remember that Christmas?"

Sirius's grin faded. "We stayed up all night talking, laying just like this, didn't we? Wondering when Father Christmas would come and if the trap with the bludgers we set up would work."

Remus chuckled - "It did work. It caught our cat."

"Your father was furious."

"Mom cried 'cause we destroyed the tree."

"I felt so horrible," Sirius added softly. "I felt so guilty. I hadn't meant to do it. It was all in fun. Something went wrong and I just... it was the absolute worst feeling in the world, knowing that something you did hurt someone else."

"My Mum got over it."

Sirius rolled onto his side and propped his head up on his hand, his elbow jabbed into the mattress. "I think that must be how Ana feels, eh?"

"She would never admit as much but... yeah..." Remus nodded. "I guess. She… she's never really hurt anyone before, I don't think."

"She said she's always been really careful."

Remus nodded. "It must be tearing her up."

Sirius sighed and sat up. "I guess I better go get dressed, then. I still think this is too soon. I can barely stand up straight, yet."

"You have to eat, Sirius."

"I don't eat anymore."

"You know what I mean."

"You're no fun."

"Ana's right - if you put it off now you'll just keep putting it off."

"I will not."

"You will, too."

"…I hate you when you've got a valid point."

Remus sat up as well, smiling. "I know. Hm, I can smell the rain now - it'll be here any minute."

Sirius turned to say something else and found Remus' gaze directly in line with his own. They both froze when their eyes locked by accident. Neither moved a muscle, suddenly the only sound in the room the crackling of the wood in the fire and the heavy beating of Remus' heart.

Sirius touched Remus' cheek gently with the very tips of his fingers, right above his cheekbone, before he had even realized he had lifted his hand. He ran the pads of his fingers along one thin white line of scar tissue.

"Sirius, don't," Remus said softly as the other man leaned in slightly, just close enough to seem mildly threatening.

"I... I just want to hear you say it again." Sirius touched the whole side of his friend's face gently with thick fingers. He spoke just above Remus' mouth, as if he was going to kiss him. Kiss him, or eat him. "Werewolf."

Remus whined and lowered his eyes. He raised his chin to the ceiling, baring his neck.

"Master," he breathed, without meaning to, without knowing why. He tensed, waiting for the feel of teeth pricking his skin, and jumped, startled, eyes flying open, when he heard the door slam, instead.

Sirius was gone. Remus sat up and looked about, wrapping his arms around himself. The door to Sirius' wardrobe was swinging slightly, wide open, and one of the hangers was empty.

Sirius had leapt off the bed, opened the wardrobe, removed a shirt and left the room in the time it took for Remus to mutter his name.

Damn, but it was unnerving how fast Sirius was able to move now.

Remus shook his head and stood, smoothing down his robes, and walked over to the wall. He bent to retrieve the empty blood flask, pocketed it, and exited the room. He refused to think about what just happened.

Thinking about it meant that he'd have to sort out the myriad of confused emotions that were bubbling just under the surface. Remus was uncertain what had just happened – he had submitted to someone not of his pack, non-wolf, and it didn't bother his innerbeast. Remus had felt safe under Sirius' gaze, and excited. Aroused, almost, although it wasn't the same.

Sirius was going to touch his lips to Remus' – perhaps a kiss, perhaps something more powerful – and Remus didn't seem to mind.

Descending the stairs, he heard Sirius' voice wafting from the parlor:

"...don't know why. I have to hear him say it... I don't... I mean... it's not …sexual or anything, is it?"

Remus froze on the spot, to prevent the floorboards from creaking, and strained to hear Ana's reply.

Apparently Sirius had felt the pull the same way he had.

"Maybe. I don't know. Vampires are predatory, dominant creatures, Sirius. Just as I am your sire and you are now my childe - and I will never let you forget it. Already I feel a ... a swelling of... well... possessiveness. Remus has been your friend... your only friend... for a long time. It's natural that the possessive nature of the Vampire in you wants to claim the Werewolf in him. You want to mark him as yours to keep him from being taken away from you again. If it's sexual, then... well, I don't think it is. Unless you bat for both teams and you're not telling me."

Sirius made a sort of indignant snorting sound. "Ana!"

There was laughter in Ana's voice as she continued. "It's just... just the possessiveness. The Vampire wants to own a person totally. You'll get used to quashing it."

"Do you quash it?"

"All the time, honey."

"Did you ever want to mark anybody?"

Ana sighed, and Remus risked taking a few steps forward to hear better. "I marked Albus – there's a scar on the nape of his neck, not that you can see it will all that hair he has now. And I wanted to mark you and Harry, but I didn't."

"You feel that strongly about Harry? I mean, you're willing to take responsibility for his safety?"

There was a short pause. "I have already, in a way, haven't I?"

"…I guess. What about Moony?"

Again there was a pause. "I'd like to mark him, too, but he's … sort of a special case. Anyway, I really don't ever want to mark anyone again. It was… physically painful when I first left Albus. I won't mark any one ever again. It's … archaic. I don't like this possessive shit at all, really."

Remus closed his eyes and swallowed hard - he could feel his heart speeding up, pounding a mile a minute in fear and alarm and perhaps a bit of excitement. No, it was not good to indulge in a rush of adrenaline now. He tried to force it back down.

"But, if it's the nature of the Vampire to want to," Sirius swallowed hard, then pressed on, "... to claim, like you say..."

"It's in the nature of the Vampire, true... but we were human first. Learn to temper it."

"Then what about you and Remus?"

There was a small pause and Remus strained forward, clinging to the rail to hear the rest. Ana sighed heavily.

"There is no me and Remus. He is not mine - you have laid claim to him."

"But... before... the way you looked at him... like that... in the cemetery."

"I... yes. But I managed to quash it."

The jiggling sound of keys and the approaching footsteps alerted Remus to the fact that Ana and Sirius were walking to the front Hall, where he was standing in the middle of the stairs. He continued down them, making noise deliberately.

"Oh, Remus!" Ana said, a pleasant smile on her face as she and her new progeny rounded the corner. "We're just heading out now - we'll be back in a few hours. Want us to pick up any groceries? I still have some Muggle money left, and the shops should still be open."

"I... I'd appreciate that," Remus nodded, trying to appear calm and collected. "Milk, bread... I think Molly wanted me to pick up some more tinned tomatoes, but I don't remember what for."

"I'll get them anyway," Ana said and took Sirius by the elbow. The storm clouds had made it significantly darker and miserable outside for the streets to have been mostly cleared of anyone who may recognize him - she handed him a wide-brimmed hat off the hall tree just in case. "See you later."

"See you," Remus said, watching passively as she dragged a confused Sirius out the front door.

Sirius voice echoed back along the walk as the front door swung shut slowly, "Don't you think it would be safer for me in the dog fo--" his voice was cut off as the heavy door shut.

The second the door closed, Remus turned and grabbed the railing of the staircase, clutching at it desperately. He realized his heart was beating fit to burst and that he was panting, sweating.

Possessiveness!

Sirius longed to posses him!

Remus shook his head - no, no, this wouldn't turn out all weird. He wouldn't let it. They were friends, 'packmates' his instincts told him, and they would remain so. Sirius would learn to reign himself in, just as Ana did. Remus would refuse to allow the wolf in him to think of Sirius as 'Alpha'.

That could lead to awkwardness all around.

Remus' stomach did little flip flops at the thought of Ana admitting that she had wanted him. His logical mind said 'no, not like that', but his libido didn't listen. She had said that she had wanted to posses him that night in the cemetery, and Remus had to admit he had seen the spark in her eyes as she looked at him over Sirius, and wondered if she had been jolted with the same 'want you now!' feeling he had.

He had called himself silly, had wished Sirius luck, and Apparated away before the wolf in him made him say anything foolish like, "Can I come with you? Here, let me escort you, let me take your hand."

Sirius had his sights set on Ana.

Even before he had met her, Remus had told himself that he would never do anything to come between them. It had been harder to remind himself of that truth when he saw her for the first time, leaning against that tombstone, but he had.

The wolf in him wanted her, had always wanted her, from the second it had seen her. Was that because of her own Dark Nature? Was it the bond between Werewolf and Vampire that made him want to take her, to submit to her, to make her submit to him? To revel in that glorious, powerful equality that Alpha wolves and their bitches seemed to share. Or was it something else?

Something like not getting laid for about... oh... ten years, he thought to himself bitterly. But he was a big boy and he could deal with being alone. He'd been alone for a long time - it's not like he was the sort to go pick up a one night stand in a bar, anyway. That's not what he wanted. The wolf in him longed for a mate. Maybe not Ana, in particular, but she was mostly single, spunky, thoughtful, and a little bit badass - just enough to make his lycanthropy a 'not huge deal' to her.

But she was a Vampire -'master'- and his best friend pined for her.

Oh, he was being so irrational.

There was nothing at all in particular that drew him to Ana. Except the fact that she was here, she was female, and she was…good.

"Perhaps Master Lupin would like to take a cold shower?" an ugly voice beside his elbow suggested and Remus jumped.

"Don't sneak up on me like that!" Remus snarled at Kreacher. The house elf only sneered and him and walked away.

Remus pulled himself upright, feeling only slightly guilty for snapping at the house elf. "Cold shower," he muttered to himself. "Yeah - cold shower."

He went upstairs to do just that.

"What was that?" Sirius whipped around, craning his neck, but the blur of silver and brown skittered into the drain by the curb before he could get a good look at it.

Ana followed his line of sight, looking back over her shoulder, wrinkled her nose briefly, sniffing, then said, "Just a rat. C'mon."

She kept walking down the sidewalk ahead of him, dashing from awning to awning on the cramped back alley streets of White Chapel. Sirius rushed to catch up.

"Just a rat? I thought I saw a flash of silver."

"Maybe the bugger had a sickle."

"Maybe."

Ana paused under the cover of a café's awning and peered around the road. The streets were mostly deserted, the odd straggler fighting against the heavy and sudden cloudburst that had started to dump on this section of London only a few hours ago. Sirius moved into the door way beside her, jamming his hands into his pockets and hunching over. He longed for a hair tie to keep his sopping bangs out of his face.

The broad brimmed hat he had stuffed into his pocket when he realized he couldn't see worth a damn with it on, so he'd kept his head bent to hide his face in his hair, and turned his collar up.

"Ana," he said, his voice coming out in a soft whine. "Can we just do this get back? I'm cold and I'm wet and I'm starving."

Ana shot him a look under her own sopping bangs. "If you're so fucking desperate, go take that woman in the back corner of the café behind us. I can smell her arousal from here - she thinks you're a hottie."

"I can't... just... kill some lady...!" He chattered around a clenched jaw.

"I never said to kill her."

"Ana, I can't do that either."

"Then shut up and do what I tell you to."

Sirius scowled. "There's no need to be so bloody rude about it."

Ana turned flashing eyes to him. "Listen, Sirius. I'm not being mean, I'm being realistic."

"You're being a total bitch!"

Ana's own expression dropped into a scowl. "Oh, I am, am I? Fine. There's the street, Sirius. Take your pick. Turn those pretty silver eyes on someone and I'm sure you'll find somewhere warm and dry soon enough. I'm going that way," she jerked her thumb back towards the section of town that held Grimmauld Place. "Come back when you're full."

She jammed her hands into her pockets and stepped out into the rain, head lowered to keep the water from running into her eyes.

"Ana, wait!" He huddled closer into the doorway. "Ana!"

"Sir?" a voice came from behind him and he turned to see a mousy young man in an apron standing on the other side of the now open entrance to the café. "I'm afraid I'm going to have to ask you to either come in or move - it's unsafe if you're blocking the exit."

"Yeah, yeah," Sirius glared at the kid and stepped out into the rain himself, miserable and cold. He looked up, intending to follow Ana wherever she would lead him, but Ana was no where to be seen. "Aww, gimmie a break!" he shouted up at the sky. "Ana! Ana! ...Gimmie a fuckin' break here!"

Ana managed to snag a scraggly half-dead alley cat on her way out of White Chapel and felt that would do her over until she made it back to the butcher's shop. The shop was closer to Grimmauld Place and she wanted to make sure that when Sirius got back, she would have sustenance ready for him, just in case he was unsuccessful.

She may have insisted on him hunting, but she wasn't going to let him starve.

I wasn't too hard on him, she told herself. I wasn't. He needs to learn how to hunt, he can't rely on shops and blood banks. It's not safe and it's not healthy.

 she told herself.

Even telling herself that, she wasn't sure. She wanted to believe that this whole evening had not been a waste of her time, assuring that the long walk through some of the scummiest parts of London hadn't been for nothing. She had wanted him to see the sorts of humans he would need to prey upon if humans were what he decided he wanted. Hookers, pimps, drug dealers - the sorts of outsiders that no one gave two shakes about, the kind the cops were happy to find had gone missing.

That kind had existed forever. As long as cities had thrived, there had been a sect of undesirables available. A Vampire that chose to reside in the city was never lacking in prey.

Ana herself preferred stray dogs and cats, rats where she could catch them, and the ever obliging butcher's shops and blood banks. There were places in the Wizarding world where a Vampire could find a meal, but they were always shady, and probably run by dark Witches and Wizards. You never knew what was in the blood in those places, and despairing mortals haunted the taverns, begging any Vampire who seemed wiling enough or degenerate enough to turn them.

Ana was determined to make Sirius self-sufficient. Ana swore her first and only progenitor would never have to step foot into one of those scum-holes.

Ana's old Master had loved places like that.

He would choose the most desperate of the human clientele, the depraved, pretty ones and take them to a room in the upstairs of the bars that were built for this express purpose. He would call them beautiful and kiss them, and Ana would stand by the side of the bed and try not to be ill. Inevitably the Master would reach out and grab her wrist and pull her down onto the bed, allowing the mortal to suck and grab at her, until they were a pile of tangled limbs and sharp teeth.

The Master always preferred to fuck the mortal first. Then he would hold Ana down while the mortal was still drowsy with lust and release. He would tear the flesh at her breast, and allow the man or woman to suckle her like a sort of perverted babe. They would only just have latched onto her nipple when the Master would twist their heads off.

A good swift kick would send the corpse sprawling onto the floor and the Master would massage the blood from the decapitated mortal into her skin, licking, kissing, enjoying. She would squeeze her eyes shut and try not to think about it. When he was satiated and spent, he would cradle her close against his body and whisper in her ear - "aren't you pleased that I did not take your soul that night? Aren't you grateful that I have chosen to share this with you?"

And she would try not to cry.

As time passed, Ana learned not to feel pity and revulsion when her Master touched her. She had learned not to flinch.

Eventually, Ana had ceased to feel altogether.

It took many years after he abandoned her for her to be able to so much as smile again.

Ana clenched her eyes shut and swung one fist at the wall. The bricks cracked and shuddered at the force of the blow. I don't want to think about him!

She jammed her hand back into her pocket, feeling the ruptured skin and broken knuckles popping back into place and sealing up already, and hurried down the street towards the butcher's, before the rainstorm she had summoned let up.

She would not think about her Master, not now when she had a childe of her own to worry about. Ana would not fixate on the past that had abandoned her, when her future needed her.

She just hoped she had done the right thing, leaving Sirius to fend for himself.

But he had to learn sometime... right?

Sirius followed the sound and smell of birds to an amateur aviary on the top of a ramshackle tenement building. It wasn't exactly fine dining, but he was hungry, and blood was blood.

The low, roughly square cages were composed of cheap chicken wire and odds-and-ends lumber, held in place by duct tape and some rusty nails. He felt guilty already. Some kid had probably made this bundle of cages, and had raised the pigeons inside them himself.

I'll leave a few, Sirius resolved, even as he scuttled across the rusty metal planks of the roof.

Carefully, he knelt by the closest of the row of cages and slowly opened the latch and stuck his hand in. After a few tense and loud moments of fishing, he managed to grab one of the two birds therein in a stranglehold, pulled it out of the cage, and, pushing down his revulsion, sank his fangs into the creature's flesh.

He expected it to taste coppery, salty and thick and of rotting meat. Instead, the liquid that hit the back of his throat was warm and rich and tantalizing. He couldn't describe the taste - yet it was, without a doubt, the most delicious thing he'd ever had.

Pitching the corpse over the side of the building, into the trash-strewn alley below, he reached into the cage and grabbed out the second bird. This time the revulsion was no where present as he clamped his teeth down on the little creature's neck.

Surprisingly, he felt so much better after the second bird. It didn't feel like it had been a lot of blood, but his veins were no longer burning, his skin felt warm, and he felt satiated and satisfied. Almost drowsy.

For the first time in seventeen years, Sirius Black felt full and content.

He decided to leave the rest of the birds and go back to Grimmauld Place. Ana was heading back there and he ... well, he didn't feel like he owed her an apology, but he didn't want to be fighting with her, either. She had been a total bitch this whole night, forcing him out into the rain and making him hunt.

Wiping the back of his hand across his lips, he climbed down the rusty fire-escape ladder to the alleyway below, shifted into his dog form, stuck his muzzle out of the alley to make sure that no one was watching, then loped down the sidewalk towards home.

A single rat, its eyes dark and beady, sat on the top of a garbage can, eyes fixed on the dead bodies of the two pigeons.

"Remus? I'm back!" Ana called as she stepped in the front door. She shed her coat and shoes. The door had been unlocked, which had been surprising to her, until she remembered that Remus had told her that the Black House's door was charmed to recognize those who were allowed to enter and those who were not. She, apparently was now on the list of 'accepted', although when that had happened, she wasn't sure.

Kreacher appeared out of the shadows and took the new jars of blood she had purchased from her hands and slipped silently into the kitchen.

"Ana?" came the Werewolf's voice from upstairs.

"Yeah." She started to walk up the stairs, only to be met halfway down with Remus in a comfy but worn looking brown bathrobe and slippers, a mug of what smelled like coffee in his hand, and a towel wrapped around his head.

She raised her eyebrows. "You get a soaker?"

"Took a shower," Remus said hastily and turned his face away. She swore a bit of pink was rising on his cheeks, but she couldn't see for sure. "I was just relaxing with a cup of coffee at my desk. Give me a moment, and I'll join you in the sitting room."

He ran back upstairs to change and Ana shrugged, trudged up the stairs herself, and slipped into the bedroom opposite his which she had been given by the house elf that afternoon. She managed to change out of her wet clothes and into a drier set of black modrobes and a soft red tanktop and slip downstairs before Remus was finished.

Kreacher looked unhappy that she had come back, but handed her a fresh towel and a mug of warmed-up blood all the same. She thanked him and settled into the loveseat opposite the fireplace, holding the mug between two hands and relishing the warmth that seeped out of the ceramic into her skin.

Remus came into the room a few moments later, his own mug of coffee clutched in one hand and some papers and a quill in the other. He set the papers down and sat down on the seat beside her.

"Where's Sirius?" he asked as he arranged himself.

"He had a snit fit, so I left him on his own."

Remus stiffened. "On his own?"

"He'll be fine," Ana assured him. "He knows how to take care of himself."

"I guess..." Remus forced himself to relax and sit back again. "If you feel that was the best course of action, then I cannot disagree with you." There was a moment of silence and both sipped from their mugs - Remus's elbow accidentally brushed her arm, which sent a small thrill through him.

He stomped it down viciously.

"Oh, sorry," Ana said, turning to look at him, to make sure he hadn't spilt any coffee, and inadvertently their eyes locked. For a brief second, time stood still. Ana looked away first, casting her eyes down at her hands. "When are the others expected? Over breakfast you said Albus would come and visit tonight? And the Weasleys too?"

Remus nodded and cleared his throat. "And Severus too, I expect. They are all curious as to how Sirius is faring."

"And Harry?"

Remus sighed. "I think we're going to wait until the Christmas Holidays ... to let Sirius tell him, in person."

"Isn't he worried? Hermione must have sent you a load of owls by now."

"She has," he looked back up at Ana, to smile reassuringly at her, and found himself staring into glowing blue eyes. "Hermione... told her that... it was all okay ... now... nothing... else... Ana..." His voice came out in a strained whisper.

"Werewolf," she said softly, and her eyes seemed briefly hazed.

"Ana, stop," he said, but couldn't help setting aside his mug, leaning back into the arm of the love seat, tilting his chin up in the sign of submission. "Sirius..."

"Werewolf," Ana said again, and he felt her slim hands on his shoulders, her breath on his ear. Remus closed his eyes. "Just once... let me hear you say it, just once."

"I can't... Sirius..."

"Just this once..."

Remus exhaled slowly, bringing his own arms up to pull her against his chest. "Master," he groaned as he felt her body press against his. "Master!"

"Remus," she said softly, and the wolf in him took over.

He pushed her backwards, until she was in the submissive position, and he was hovering over top of her, one foot firmly against the floor, the other knee wedged between her body and the back of the loveseat. He grabbed her wrists in his hands and nuzzled the underside of her jaw, licking and nipping the sensitive flesh under her ear.

She turned her head and suddenly his lips were locked onto hers, his tongue battling with her own, twining between their mouths.

Yes! the wolf cried. Want, take, mine!

The sound of the front door clicking shut startled Remus from his attack on her mouth and he pulled away as he heard the footsteps coming into the sitting room. "Ana?" the intruder asked and Remus bared his teeth at him, snarling.

This man would not take away his bitch.

"... Remus!" the voice cried out, and his lust-filled brain slowly cleared.

Remus closed his eyes and shook his head. When he looked back up he saw not an interloper, but his best friend.

Sirius stood in the threshold between the front hall and the sitting room, his clothing and hair soaked, leaving a puddle on the expensive carpet. His arms were loose at his sides and his eyes and mouth open wide in astonishment. Quickly he collected himself and replaced the dumbstruck awe with a sneer.

"I see. Well, Ana, I'm back, and full. I'm going upstairs to dry up a bit."

He turned on his heel and stalked away.

Remus felt Ana wriggle out from under him, saw her go running after his best friend, "Sirius, wait, you don't understand...!"

But he did not pursue her.

Remus just sat on the couch and stared at the stairs through the door.

"Oh, my god..." he said softly, burying his face in his palms. "What have I done?"

Far across the country, in an old, dilapidated manor house on the edge of a sleepy town, a rat sat cringing before a man in a dark robe and a chair. The man was stroking the glittering emerald snake in his lap.

"What is it, Wormtail?" the man in the shadowy robe hissed.

Where the rat sat now crouched a man, thin and haggard looking, pointy-faced and balding. "I saw him, My Lord."

"Him?"

"Sirius Black, My Lord."

The man in the robe said nothing and stayed perfectly still for so long that the man who had once been a rat dared to look up. "Did you hear me, My Lord? I said I saw Sirius Black in--"

"I heard you!" The robed man thundered, and the rat man cringed and lowered his beady eyes quickly. "... Sirius Black, eh? Alive?"

"Yes, My Lord... a-and no."

The red eyes shadowed by the hood of the seated man's robe narrowed. "Explain."

"He was killing pigeons... drinking their blood... before that he was walking with a girl... no older than eighteen or nineteen, My Lord. I ... I believe she was showing him how to hunt."

The robed man let forth a slow hissing chuckle that made the rat man's skin goosebump. "A Vampire," he said at length. "How clever. I wonder if that is how he escaped the Veil... no matter." The Dark Lord smiled. "And how did Mr. Black address her?"

"A-ana... My Lord."

"Ah. Wormtail," he focused his red eyes on the rat man, and the snake in his lap followed suit. "Send for ...ah, never mind. He is already here. Dorin, step forth."

A second robed man peeled himself from the shadows surrounding the Dark Lord's chair and knelt at his side, pulling aside his white, mouthless and expressionless mask. He didn't even glance at the rat.

"My Lord?"

"Wormtail, describe this Vampire girl."

"D-dark hair," he said slowly, "short. B-bright b-blue eyes... m-maybe a meter thirty tall. Slender... p-pale."

The dark eyes of the second man flashed under his hood. "I believe she is the one I've been searching for, My Lord."