Title: Dating Remus Lupin

Disclaimer: Brilliant Art Work Credits: kogepanM's siriusremus ( kogepanm. /art/ HP-siriusremus -15908325)

Warnings: Slight AU, Sillyness, Daft Sirius, Broody Remus

Rating: M

Chapter Eleven: Having an Affair with Remus Lupin

'It's okay to be nervous, Remus.'

Remus looks up at the nurse: Mrs. Murphy (even though she always asks him to call her Shannon). She's a dumpy little woman, with red hair, and deep brown eyes. She speaks Gaelic in a very rural accent, which makes her a little hard to understand since Remus isn't very fluent to begin with; John always speaks to him in English. She's in charge of taking care of him and she does a good job of it, too, though Remus still can't help but feel embarrassed when she helps him bathe or escorts him to the toilet. He's been practicing how to walk on his own with John, but he falls more than he stands. It's embarrassing because it's his last day in this familiar muggle hospital and he still can't do everything on his own yet like John expects him to. It's also upsetting because today is also his last day in this town, this country, and he doesn't want people to stare on their way to the station or when they cross roads. Stares make him uncomfortable; they make him feel dirty. Like when Remus was taken to the Ministry cells for two days to transform, and everyone had stared and stared and stared.

'London's a lovely place, you know. I'm sure you'll be fine.'

Remus isn't very convinced by her assurances. London's a big place; much bigger than here. Remus hasn't been out of the hospital since his accident, but the view from the window in his room is peaceful and comforting. He's said this to John before, but the grimace on John's face says he doesn't agree. He always tells Remus that it 'better in here than out where we live, with those bastards', which always has Remus wondering if they actually have a house in the slums where mugging was a common practice.

'The lady who brought you in here is from London.'

Remus perks up immediately, his hands clutching the sheets in anticipation of hearing something more about his mystery saviour. They didn't tell him much about her because they didn't know much themselves. She didn't leave a name or an address, and she never came to visit him after he'd regained conscious. The doctor often told Remus that the first night, she hadn't left his side, even though John had repeatedly insisted that it was okay to go. Remus wishes he could remember her face. Sometimes, he even likes to think she is his mother.

'Do you think I'll meet her?' Remus asks quietly, already knowing the answer but still allowing himself a little hope.

'Your chances aren't that high, Remus, you know that.' At the sad look on Remus's face, she tries to comfort him, 'I know you want to see her, and I'm sure that if she could, she would want to see you just as much. She loved you very much, you know…'

Remus's eyes widens at the revelation. 'She loved me?'

Nurse Murphy looks surprised as she turns to Remus. 'Well, of course. She used to come visit you all the time, you know. She talked to your father a lot, so she knew you even better than you do yourself. She left that necklace on you just before she left, so you'd remember her.' She leans close to Remus and taps his nose. 'Only people who love you want you to remember them, forever if possible. It doesn't matter if you never see her; she's already left a part of her behind for you.'

Remus holds the pendant in his hands in awe. He's never considered a deeper meaning to it, never truly thought about it the way Nurse Murphy just put it. It feels good to be loved, he thinks; it feels good to be remembered and to have mattered to someone. As long as he keeps this thin silver cross with him, he'll know that she'll save him, that she'll love him.

Remus smiles at the thought and clutches the chain tightly to his chest. 'Thank you, Shannon.'

'Nngh…'

Pain, Remus thought, was a very odd thing. It had no concrete source and no concrete trigger. Anything could set off pain anywhere in your body. Sometimes, a bruise from having hit your head on a hippogriff's claw hurt a lot less than a paper cut from ageing parchment. And sometimes, there was no wound to the pain, but it hurt anyway, because it was still quite painful.

'Ugh…' Remus breathed heavily, in and out, in and out; trying to keep tolerance. Trying to control the violent spasms now overtaking his body at a fast pace. In and out; he figured he'd be a good instructor for those classes they gave to pregnant women. What were they called again? Remus knew the word, but couldn't think. Couldn't think at all beyond the slow shifting of his bones, all gearing up for a hard night.

Remus remembered his very first memory of pain. It had been right after he'd woken up – four days after the accident. One of his legs had been numb, as if it wasn't even a part of his body. It might as well have been cut off and made no difference. John had got up then, frantic and happy at the same time; and Remus had snatched away that happiness with one simple question: 'Who are you?'. There had been pain right then, at the centre of Remus's chest. The type of pain that gave you sore eyes and a sense of something terribly wrong. The wrong, Remus realised afterwards, was that Remus had stolen John's precious person. The person that lived in Remus's body before Remus.

'Nngh…' Remus bit his lip hard and reached out for the watch he'd stashed underneath the bed with his clothes. His hands were drenched with sweat and the watched slipped away a few times, before he was able to get a proper hold of it.

Five minutes and twenty two seconds.

Remus had made it five minutes and twenty two seconds without succumbing to the full moon and screaming out. His tolerance was growing; last time, it had been at twenty seconds and then Remus had lost all control.

There were thumping noises coming from downstairs, growing steadily louder. No, they weren't that loud. Perhaps a little tapping; maybe from a bird or a stray animal that somehow made its way in. It was loud to Remus's ears, which were looking for an outlet, anything to distract his screaming body from the pain. How long had it been; nine years, ten? And still his body rejected the initial stages of the transformations the same way it would do a disease.

Five minutes and twenty four seconds.

The thumping was getting unbearably loud now, every decibel sending a sharp prick to Remus's nerves. He was going to lose control. Remus was going to succumb to the twisting and shifting of his body, and the pain that came with it. His threshold was reaching its limit.

And then the thumping stopped, and a loud gasp followed.

Remus didn't have to look to know who it was. He didn't have to, but he did. He looked straight into James Potter's scared hazel eyes and lost it.

James Potter ran and Remus screamed. Screamed, and screamed, and screamed until the first rays of dawn shone upon his battered body, and his throat had bled itself raw.

Five minutes and twenty six seconds.

Remus had lasted five minutes and twenty six seconds until everything had gone to hell.

Peter was confused. Peter was, extremely, thoroughly confused. The only time Peter remembered being this extent of confused was when his mother had told him to choose between pumpkin pie and chocolate cake for dessert. Yet, this dessert confusion ranged no where near the utter confusion he felt right now.

Remus had entered the room after his two day stay at his grandmother's. The Lupin boy was limping again, which Peter felt truly sorry for. He reckoned it must really suck to stop limping for nearly a month and then start all over again. At least that's what Peter's Uncle Jack said anyways. Uncle Jack frequently took the time to curse quite loudly every time he came for a visit, 'darn this ruddy polio!' Peter had a theory that 'polio' was actually a very strong Jelly Legs Jinx that Mungo's had never been able to cure.

Remus was really just limping, his 'doll face' strangely looking fierce and defiant. Remus looked scary enough without an expression on his face; so looking at amber eyes lit so intensely bright was enough to send Peter to the loo for an incredibly lengthy piss. Of course, it would be a lot easier to go to the loo if Peter could move his legs first. Vaguely, Peter wondered how Sirius could sleep at night with someone that closely resembled the Dragonball after extensive plastic surgery. In fact Sirius's usual expression of glee at being able to see Remus told Peter that Sirius had the impression that the Dragonball on his bed was actually the Princess of Wales. It was a lot easier when the Prince of Wales (Sirius) was around though, because he somehow always made Remus smile and look a lot less frightening.

Surprisingly, James broke the tense silence, 'Remus, ah-I-we should talk, maybe…about last night?'

It was an awfully odd thing to say, considering Remus wasn't even here last night. Peter wondered exactly what James had to talk about; maybe he knew Remus's grandmother? Maybe Remus's grandmother was actually also James's grandmother through an illegitimate child, and James and Remus were secret cousins? Peter wondered the probability of such a thing, but gave up because he failed fifth grade mathematics.

'Pete, mate, could you excuse us for a bit?'

Peter stared blankly at James and then at Remus, figuring that they obviously had something important to talk about. They kept looking at each other; James nervously looking away every now and again, and Remus's eyes getting harder and harder with each passing minute. Family lineage was a sensitive matter after all, and if James and Remus were secret cousins; then it would be best if Peter pretended not to understand.

Peter nodded and excused himself out of the room. He knew it was bad; that he should trust James more, but curiosity got the better of him and he stayed at the door. Faking his own fading footsteps, he crouched against the closed dormitory door and pushed an ear against it, hoping to listen to whatever it was that their conversation was about. Unsurprisingly, it was not about family lineage. Unsurprisingly, it made very little sense to Peter. And unsurprisingly, Peter still eavesdropped into their extremely confusing conversation:

'Listen…' Peter could hear the hesitance in James's voice. He sounded uncomfortable; like the time when James was dared to comb his hair flat. 'Remus…I know that this…er…furry little problem of yours…it's supposed to be kept secret. I shouldn't have…er…you know…'

Peter tried to remember if Remus had ever mentioned owning a badly behaved rabbit. How much of a problem was a furry little rabbit to make James stutter so badly while he spoke. Maybe the rabbit had Remus's Dragonball personality and often hissed at people through mouthfuls of carrot? Or maybe, it was a code word for something bigger; something too dangerous to reveal at all. Maybe Remus was actually a Japanese, no, British ninja!

'Look…Remus…I won't tell anyone. I want you to know that. I mean, I know you don't say it a lot…but you do fancy Sirius quite a bit. So, I won't tell. I know…I know you don't want to hurt anybody…so, if it helps…I'm okay with things the way they are; the way you are, I mean.'

Peter frowned. It didn't sound like much of a ninja conversation, not really. In fact, James sounded a bit dodgy. Remus; well, Peter wondered how Remus was reacting to all this. Surely, he had a clue as to what James was implying. What was James not going to tell, and why was James giving all that many compliments to Remus. 'Okay with the way you are'; what in Godric's did that mean?

Peter bit his lip for a while, debating whether he should chance a glance. Nodding to himself in assurance, he quickly got on his knees and peeked through the keyhole. Almost immediately, Peter wished he hadn't. Wished he'd bit his lip so hard that he'd had to go to the infirmary instead of looking through the keyhole.

James and Remus were hugging. No, it wasn't a hug; it was a proper embrace, and while Peter couldn't really see Remus's face clearly, he didn't seem to be resisting James' gesture of affection like he often did Sirius'. James, so clearly awkward throughout the conversation, didn't seem to be tense anymore either. In fact, he looked almost kind and considerate. What was this? Why were they, all of a sudden, on such good terms? And why were they moving towards Remus's bed?

'Look,' Peter heard James whisper softly, 'when the time's right, I want you to tell Sirius. He's a good friend; I promise he won't take it badly.'

'Bloody hell,' Peter swore softly, moving away from the door in horror as he realised exactly what was going on. It explained everything; the night Remus and James were missing, the tiredness in Remus's eyes, why James was so hesitant to approach the subject, and why Peter was better not listening in. Peter finally knew the truth and it was frightening. Frightening to face Remus and even more frightening to have to face Sirius once he found out the inevitable truth.

James and Remus were having an affair behind Sirius's back.

'Mr. Pettigrew, exactly how long am I going to have to stand here before you have the common courtesy to give way?'

Peter, still struck in a daze, looked up at McGonagall's stern face. 'You don't want to go in, Professor. Not now, at least.' She was clutching an envelope in her hands very tightly, and her lips were steadily growing thinner as Peter used his well developed body to shield the door.

Did Peter have to tell Sirius about this, or just let things unfold on their own? Peter hadn't even known about James swinging for the other side, much less the side that was Remus Lupin. The side that was strictly prohibited (due to best friend property), and classified as extremely dangerous individual.

'Mr. Pettigrew, please move this instant.'

Peter wasn't sure exactly how to tell the Professor that James and Remus were very likely to be snogging at this point, if the conversation was any indication. 'Really, Professor, you shouldn't. Maybe you can pop in another time for a lecture or two?'

McGonagall's eyes looked ready to pop. 'Mr. Pettigrew, Mr. Lupin's father has just had a heart attack. If you still think I can pop in another timeto discuss this matter, then please continue to stand here while I issue you detention.

Remus wanted to see John. Remus wanted to see John just like any other boy wanted to see his sick father. Remus could see John if he wanted and at the same time, he couldn't. He was in the house, in his room; not locked like how it used to be in the initial years after the accident. He was locked by his own unwillingness to go visit John, even though john was simply in the next room. Remus's main problem arose from her.

She was constantly there in John's room, pouring her affection over him. She catered to his every need and took care of him even in the late hours of the night. It wasn't anything serious; that's what the Healer said. A couple of prescribed potions every month and John was safe from anything of the sort ever happening again. Still, she was a muggle and Remus supposed something like this in the muggle world caused more concern than it did in the wizarding world. Remus knew she loved John; knew very well that as a wife, this was how things were meant to be. But it was that knowledge that kept Remus from going to see his own father for the past two days.

The knowledge of being an unwanted presence in that room.

Remus had felt it the very first day he'd walked into John's room, heart beating from anxiety and the nauseating Floo trip. She'd looked at him, glared, with bright, teary eyes that reminded Remus of the woman that had been holding his hand on the day he'd met head first with dazzling-yellow headlights. They were the eyes of a woman who hated him; who saw his existence as an obstacle that she had to push over. John didn't see those eyes, but Remus did. He saw them and read them perfectly; so Remus gave in to what John needed the most - it wasn't a son and it definitely wasn't Remus.

'Coward,' Remus whispered to himself. 'She's a bitch, but you're a coward.' He laughed, wondering how completely insane he sounded. He wondered if Sirius would think he was being cute now. Knowing Sirius, he would probably think Remus was being cute even when there was a pile of dung on his head.

Remus didn't particularly like being cute. The word itself often gave Remus urges to wear ribbons on his head and twirl on occasions just to live up to the expectations that came with the term, 'cute'. Remus wasn't a very good twirler and ribbons made his arse look big. Still, Remus figured, being cute was much more preferable

So he got up and quite determinedly, walked into John's room, only to deflate when he found John asleep. She was sitting on a chair beside his bed, unnecessarily smoothing the bed covers, and the sight of her face alone had Remus's lip curling in disdain. Remus wished she were one of those women who caked their faces with make up until they looked like an entirely different person. Remus also wished there was new, revolutionary make up to hide her personality as well. Not that she wasn't doing a good job hiding her personality by herself. John thought she loved Remus, didn't he?

'You!'

Remus blinked, looked at her and then looked at himself. 'Me,' he replied, quite frankly

She didn't seem to be particularly convinced with Remus's confirmation, and got up to walk towards him. 'You!' she screamed again.

Remus rolled his eyes, wondering idly if she was blind or perhaps a little slow on the brain function. It was, quite obviously, him.

'This is all your fault!' she cried, now right in front of him. She was an awfully small woman, only barely coming up to Remus's collar bone, but she stood fierce and angry. 'This happened because of you! It's always you! He worries himself sick over trying to find a cure and trying to make things right! You're bringing him pain, can't you see that? What's wrong with you?'

Remus knew he shouldn't have come. It was all Sirius's fault, making Remus think he had to be cute. It was just better to leave.

She grabbed him hard by the elbow and pulled him back. 'Where do you think you're going? At least try to show some bloody sympathy for your own father! Take some goddamn responsibility for what you've caused! Leave, disappear, if you can, instead of coming back here and causing trouble for everyone around you with your miserable existence!'

Remus hated her. He leaned down to look right into her teary, blue eyes and whispered coldly, 'Don't touch me.'

There was loud resounding smack! in the air as the palm of her hand met his cheek hard and fast. Remus saw her hand coming up to strike again, saw the rage on her face, and then suddenly, she looked a lot younger…

She's frightening nowadays, to a degree he could never imagine she'd be because in the past, mummy has always smiled and laughed and loved him. Now, it's like she's two people. With daddy, she tries so hard; he knows this because he sees her all the time. She always makes things daddy likes best and smiles and laughs the same way she used to before he went to the hospital.

At times, it feels like he doesn't exist because she never looks at him or sees him, and this confuses him. It confuses him because he craves to be seen by her and at the same time, he scared. He's scared, just like he is now as her eyes fall on his broken plate and her face twists in fury. She advances towards him and he backs away, knowing even before she raises her hand that she is going to hit him hard. The bruise on his back hasn't healed yet; he hasn't shown it to daddy because daddy always gets upset when he has to magic them away.

The chair clatters to the ground as she pushes it away to get to him and he moves away quicker, further. Something sharp pierces into his foot, and he's already crying because every step backward makes it dig deeper and hurt harder. He hates it because daddy will see it and be sad again. He hates it because he's not a big boy like daddy always tells him to be; he always cries, he always makes people angry, he always-

Remus felt himself being pulled aside violently, almost tripping over the rug in front of the bed. Through his sudden disorientation, he realised that the only reason he hadn't fallen over was because there was a rough hand still tightly enclosed around his wrist.

Remus stared at his father, who was red faced and panting as if barely controlling what looked like a volcanic outburst. Even she looked taken aback And then, the control slipped and John Lupin erupted:

'Get out of my house,' he spat and for a moment, Remus thought John was referring to him, until he saw that John's steely glare was fixated onher. The grip on Remus's wrist was tightening painfully, but Remus didn't struggle against it. He had a hankering that the grip was the only thing that was keeping John Lupin standing.

She seemed to realise the same thing as Remus, and reached out to him, but was pushed away viciously. 'John…you shouldn't-'

'I said, get out,' John growled, 'get out of my house now, before I kill you.'

Large tear drops began to roll down her cheeks and a few stray hiccups escaped her mouth. John didn't have to do this. He didn't have to-

'I gave you your chance,' John continued, and Remus could feel his body trembling through the little contact they had. 'You wanted to try again, to reprioritise, so I let you in, but don't expect this to be like before.'

'John, I didn't mean…'

'I've already made my choice, Lisa. Your presence, even what you say, they don't matter to me anymore. They stopped mattering nine years ago.' John let go of Remus's hand and turned away. 'Now, take whatever's yours and get out…'

Remus had expected her to put up more of a fight. She was an ardent woman, after all, this he knew about her, which was why it came as a surprise when she turned away and left the room, slamming the door behind her. Remus had no intention of going after her and by the way John climbed back into his bed, it seemed he didn't either. For a while, there was a piercing silence in the room, punctuated only by the sounds of banging doors and breaking glass. Remus didn't dare look at John; he didn't want to know the expression of John's face. He didn't want to see the pain that probably came from seeing his wife leave; he didn't want to see John's regret over everything he'd said. The regret and pain that Remus had caused yet again.

What felt like hours was actually ten minutes worth of a very angry woman walking out of the house. It was odd, but the silence that came after her leaving was a lot more ominous and deafening than when she's been smashing what little plates the Lupin household had. Remus hoped she didn't break the jar of double chocolate cookies that was always kept in the first cabinet.

Remus should have felt sorry for her. He should have felt like a terrible person for making a woman cry, no matter how much he despised her. But in reality, he was relieved she was gone; elated to a point where, for the first time in his life, Remus felt like a true bastard. But truth was, without her, things worked out just fine.

'Remus, I'm hungry. Some pasta right now would be good.'

Remus blinked, then nodded, keeping his eyes firmly fixed to the door.

'And Remus?'

'Hm?'

Remus didn't miss the note of hesitation in John's voice. 'Has she…has she hurt you before this?'

For a second Remus considered telling John everything: the memories that had been coming back stronger and stronger since the beginning of the year. He considered telling John that he knew how he'd lost his memory; knew why he didn't have a mother until last year, and why John carried the burden of guilt on his shoulders. The burden that made him stay with Remus and raise him, instead of leaving the way she had.

He'd almost opened his mouth to spill everything, but his conscience betrayed him in the end. 'No, not that I remember.'

'Okay,' John said roughly and Remus could hear him shifting angrily on the bed. 'Make sure to put some ice on your cheek.'

Remus wondered if slaps really made your cheek swell, and how much grief he was going to get from Sirius if he went back to school looking like a half-breed chipmunk.

There were a lot of things Remus was only beginning to notice, as he cleaned up the living room floor. That woman; she had made this house into a home. They had lace curtains and little crystal ornaments in every room; magnets on the fridge and a cabinet full of non-stick pans, and walls adorned with pictures and accomplishments. Pictures of John and her mostly, and just one with Remus in John's arms, looking like a freshly de-feathered chicken.

Remus wondered if that was how things were before Remus came through with his condition. A home, a family, a wife; had Remus robbed John of all of this? When was the last time John ever brought anyone home; had considered perhaps falling in love with someone? He had loved her though, hadn't he; and Remus had tried to keep out of the way and do everything that John told him to, but…

'John, lunch is ready…'

John was already asleep, snoring loud symphonies. Remus didn't want to wake him; not for food or anything else. John would be angry, Remus knew. John would be angry or upset, and Remus would have disappointed him again.

He hesitated for a while before walking around the bed and carefully sitting on the side. There were still slight imprints left over on Remus's skin from where John had held him tightly; a slight red outline highlighting each finger like a drawing. It was the first time John had touched him willingly; the very first time he hadn't hesitated or moved away when he got too close to Remus. What did it mean? Had John been scared of Remus's instability? Had he thought that Remus would backlash and hurt her?

Something coiled tightly in the pit of his stomach and Remus realised that for the first time in over four years, he was scared. He was terrified and shaking of what was happening and what was to come. And before he knew it, the terror was slowly forming selfish words in his mouth: 'Don't leave me,' he whispered quietly, his head feeling heavy all of a sudden and falling forward onto the coverlet.

There was more selfishness brimming in his throat, but Remus stalled it by biting his lip hard. The words were circling in his head, around and around to a point where everything looked like a blur and Remus had to close his eyes against the dizziness and the ringing in his ears.

'Oi, Cupcake, are you opening the door or what?'

'Sirius, stop that! The neighbours are going to report us for breaking an entry!'

Sirius?

'Remus, my love! It's fucking windy out here, so let us in, won't you?'

Well, that explained the ringing in Remus's ears; Sirius was abusing his privileges with the doorbell and shouting to be let in. It was a miracle by itself that John hadn't woken up, and Remus had a good mind to leave Sirius in the bloody, cold wind until his balls fells off. Fortunately for Sirius, Remus had good use for Sirius's balls and grudgingly opened the front door to let three very cold and enthusiastic boys in.

James and Peter tumbled in almost immediately, saying rushed hellos and pushing past to get to the fireplace. For some reason, the chubby boy had been avoiding looking at Remus lately. When Remus did catch him looking, it would be a sort of accusatory and angry glare. Remus wondered if Peter was still upset about the time Remus had eaten the last piece of chocolate cake.

Peter was stomping his feet to keep warm and Remus sincerely hoped he didn't knock holes into the floor. Wood floors were made to withstand a lot of things, but not an upsized cow on a burger diet.

James smiled a little, but Remus couldn't bring himself to look the boy in the eye. Not since James had found out. Remus had ignored Pomfrey's attempts at medical attention and hurried back to the dormitory as fast as he could to confront James. Remus had never known how good it felt for someone to know and accept everything about him. He had never known the release that came with it until his knee had finally given out from pain and relief, and he'd fallen right into James, nearly knocking the both of them out.

'Dumbledore said we could go fetch you,' Sirius said with a smile, reaching out to curl his fingers in Remus's hair. The other hand cupped Remus's cheek, thumb slowly tracing the underneath Remus's eye. 'What happened?'

Remus had forgotten to put ice on his cheek.

'Hey,' Sirius whispered, looking deep into Remus's eyes. 'It's okay.' Sirius's arms encircled around Remus's neck and pulled him close, head bumping into bony, boyish shoulders. 'It's okay, babe,' Sirius chanted softly, pressing kisses to the side of Remus's head; as if knowing exactly what Remus needed even before Remus himself did.

The door creaks open, sounding loud and painful in the quiet of the room. Only Remus's laboured breathing towers over everything else – in, out, in, out; in rapid successions. Remus is still unused to having his door unlocked. He doesn't miss the ominous clicking of the lock, or the reassuring lies john used to tell him. He doesn't miss being a monster and being out of control. He has worked hard not to miss them.

Remus is curled on his side, face buried and hidden beneath waves of brown hair spread across the pillow, waiting for his tremors to subside. This fear, this feral wave of fright and pain; it feels overwhelming somehow, and Remus seeks further refuge from it in the warm crook between his knees.

There is a gentle dip of the bed as John Lupin sits down in front of him. 'Remus, are you alright?'

'No,' Remus croaks. He hides his face deeper, so that John doesn't see him. The tears are brimming close; Remus feels the sting in the corner of his eyes, and doesn't want John to see. John is disgusted by Remus's tears; he turns his face away every time Remus cries. There is comfort in John's grown up face and deeply etched lines; so Remus peeks through his fingers, only a little to make sure John is still there to chase the bad away. 'John, I-I saw her…'

The lines on John's forehead grow deeper and he moves closer to Remus, like how someone does when discussing a secret. 'Again? Did you…did you see her face this time? Did you…'

Remus clutches the edge of John's sleeve, wanting…

Wanting some kind of relief but knowing that with John, there is always a limit. John doesn't…he doesn't like being with Remus, or being touched by him; so Remus always has to make sure he doesn't get too close. He doesn't want John's hate.

'John, she was angry, and she was screaming. She…called me…' Remus shakes his head, unable to remember the name now. It had been a different name, but somehow, Remus knew in his dream that she'd been calling him and not anyone else. Then quietly, he mutters the one thing that had scared him the most, 'she said I wasn't her son…'

Remus feels John's whole body stiffen instantly and sees John's right hand go to his pocket, as if reaching for something. Then, quite suddenly, John relaxes and smiles warmly. 'You're trembling,' he says kindly and then as if in an alternate reality, he reaches out and pulls Remus to his chest. 'It's okay,' John says softly, unaware of Remus's surprise. The hand against Remus's neck is calloused and rough, but it brings peace to Remus's sore eyes. 'It's okay, don't be scared.'

Slowly, hesitantly, Remus wraps his arms around John and hides his face into John's dark blue sleeping shirt. He sniffs and tries to clean his face a little so he won't stain John's clothes, but Remus can't control them anymore. He wants to hide in the warm recesses of John's shirt forever, or at least until she stops visiting his dreams.

'It's okay,' John says again softly and Remus feels the tip of something cold against the back of his neck. Remus moves slightly, trying to look back, but John's hand is holding Remus's head tightly in place. Panic starts to set in and suddenly, Remus is a lot scared of his own father and the wand at his neck, than any woman in his dreams. He's terrified, and scared, and crying out John's name, telling John that he hasn't done anything or hurt anyone, that he hasn't lost control of himself for almost two years now.

'I know. It's okay,' John repeats, immune to Remus's struggles. 'It's only a dream. By morning, you won't remember a thing.'

Sirius let go with a broad grin and a wink to James and Peter. 'Okay, we'll just go say 'hi' to Da and then we'll set off by floo. What? You don't like 'Da'? I thought since your father's Irish and all…Remus, you okay?'

Remus blinked, running a shaky hand through his hair. That memory; Remus had been nine back then, he was sure of it. It felt surreal almost; like everything was clicking into place but at the same time, making very little sense. Remus knew that the next morning, he'd had a horrible headache for which John had given him pills for. Remus also knew that it was the day they'd had pizza for dinner because Remus had been too disoriented to scrap out anything and often throughout the day, forgot where things were kept. He remembered all this with perfect clarity.

But true to John's word, Remus hadn't remembered anything of that night the next morning or any day after that.

'Remus! What is this bastard boy doing here? Are you trying to give me another heart attack?'

After a ridiculously long hiatus, I'm back! No exuses, I was just being lazy for some reason, so I hope you guys still remember and enjoy this story. But there is only chapter left, so I'm going to be a good writer this time and update fast. Let me know how you guys liked this chapter and if there are any things that you'd like to see in the very last chapter. No major plot lines though, because I already have that figured out….I think. :) Hope I've replied to everyone and if I haven't, you're welcome to let me know and I will make up for it of course. Cheers!

Ainek: I guess I answered one of your questions with this chapter. Orton isn't essentially a bad guy. Very few people are in real life; most of them are just misunderstood and a bit on the insane side. He's still a bastard, but just a very broken hearted one I guess. I'm glad you understood that. :) Elibeth_hobbit: Thank you! I'm glad that you don't see it as one of those typical crack fics. I mentioned Remus's eyes in the chapter just for you…Lol. Things will tie in together in the next chapter, so no worries. We all know Sirius is going to love Remus no matter what.Davinspeak: Lol. Well, that's a first time failure for me and it doesn't even feel that awful after your lovely review. This chapter wasn't much crack because it's getting close to the end and I wanted a lot of important bits to be kept in without it looking too silly. So hope you enjoyed it regardless! Mad_Mad_Maddy: There are certain short tender moments. Like the time in Remus's house when Sirius says it'll be okay. Of course, the next chapter is going to be full of slash and much more. :D disappointed: Well, if it's any help, I always do try my best to meet the reader's expectations. So feel free to point out any parts that you don't like and any mistakes I've made. :) Ash: James has figured it out. Lol. The confrontation in Peter's point of view was one of my favourites to write because it was so random. Azrael: Thank you! I hope you loved this chapter too! The humour was a bit toned down in this one to make room for more serious matters, but I guess Peter broke off the ice a little bit. Remus and Sirius both, to me, are like my little babies. I love writing about each of their characters cuz I get to mold tem the way I see them. Plus, they look great together. :D Amy: Ugh. I wish it was raining and snowing over here. I's bleeding hot and a lot of people are passing out from dehydration and heat stroke. I've never used this much sun screen before and I think global warming is coming back with vengeance. Ahem, done with my rant. I make no comments about the Sirius theory but now, James knows! poopyXD: Thank you! Mr. tosser will not be returning anytime soon, unfortunately. But there are a quite a few developments in the plot come next chapter. I guess you can already read into most of them through this one. Jeebs: Lol. I won't promise a huuugee angst fest, but I think you can see some of the pre-fest already in this chapter, what with everything going on. The last chaoter is mostly aimed at beinga bit fluffy and very teeny bit angsty. The Sirius sulking is a classic. :D No chapter can go without it…er…except this one.