Author's Note: Yes, after three months, I have finally updated. Please don't be too mad. As soon as September appeared from a shadowy place, I knew that I would not be able to dedicate as much time to this as I wanted to. Because as it turns out, all those people who told me that being a third-year student at university is way easier and that I would have lots of free time...well, they lied to me. Shame on you. Because I am doing more work now than ever before. I should be writing a 15-page analysis on Frankenstein but instead I decided to post another chapter because you all deserve this after waiting for months.

PS: I'm still interested to hear everyone's ideas about Remus and his Tinder match. I created a poll for this, so it would be more fun. Go to my profile and check it out. And please VOTE if you are interested.

Chapter Twenty

Counting Stars

The Ministry building sees a lot of interesting characters just hours before the vote. The Wizengamot has already gathered, but no one really misses the fact that there are a few new faces around. And some old ones are missing—mostly supporters of Doge and his fraction. Tom enters the chamber as all the members take their seats. Unfortunately for those hoping to see the Light triumph, Doge is still lounging in one of the prison cells under Tom's manor. Doge—or rather the one pretending to be Doge—had recanted his candidacy without any sort of explanation. Tom is the only candidate but he still has to win the vote, otherwise, the election process will just start again.

Sirius sits with Lucius; the two of them are figuratively sitting on seventeen seats. The Animagus is pleased to see Augusta Longbottom gone from the assembly. He sees Neville in her stead, looking a bit overwhelmed but mostly assured. He's young still but capable and he should be regarded like the Lord he is. The House of Longbottom should not be trifled with.

"I bet he regrets it now," Sirius mused with a smirk.

Lucius, curious as to what Sirius is referring to, turns to the man, an eyebrow raised.

"Tommy." Sirius nods towards the man who looks like a seething raincloud. "When has he ever cared for legality?"

Lucius does, in fact, feel the same way, but he says, "This is not about legitimacy. This is about appealing to the public and creating a pleasant image to go with his reforms."

Sirius hums. "Yeah. I can understand that. But it seems like a hassle, you know. Easier to blow shit up and just take it."

The blond wizard pins the man with a surprised look. "You are not one for needless violence."

"The wizarding community is steeped apathy. People are narrow-minded and only concerned about their own personal business. We are dying out, Luce. Pure-bloods, half-bloods, Muggle-borns…what does any of it matter if we're just standing still. All those wankers sitting in their offices…Tommy ought to just set fire to the Ministry and built a new one."

The blond gently squeezes Sirius' knee. He knows that it's the man's bitterness speaking. No one had ever bothered to look into his case. He had not even received a trial for Salazar's sake! At the time, Lucius had not bothered either. Cissy had expressed her concerns, had practically begged him to use his Ministry contacts to get some insight—but he had not lifted a bloody finger. Of course, they could not really look into it without compromising their position. They could not appear too sympathetic or risk alerting Dumbledore. And they had Draco's well-being to think about.

Thinking about the years Sirius had spent in Azkaban, alone and hated, makes Lucius push down rising guilt. Forgotten by all, Sirius had suffered. It makes the blond's heart constrict. All he had to do was get someone to look into Sirius' case. Just place a few inquiries. Raise some red flags to get someone's attention. But he had stayed in the sidelines, choosing to ignore Cissy's frantic pleas.

It doesn't matter that he hadn't really cared for him back then; he hadn't known him as he does now. It does not excuse his own apathy.

"Hah, look at him. I swear he's clutching his wand right now." Sirius nudges Lucius' arm, smiling.

Such thoughts make something bitter rise up in the blond. He does not complain when Sirius takes his hand and laces their fingers together. There is a place for public displays of affection, but Lucius doesn't have it in him to deny the man anything. He deserves affection.

"This is something new," Sirius points out, looking down at their joined hands. "You're usually such an arse about me touching you when there is a crowd."

Lucius just hums a non-verbal reply, keeping his eyes ahead.

"Don't get me wrong, I'm not complaining. Fucking finally more like it." Sirius smirks. "Is it something I can expect to see more often?"

"Perhaps." Lucius clears his throat. "If you behave yourself, that is."

Sirius knows that he's treading on a very fine line but he places a light kiss on the wizard's hand with a sly smirk. Even though he wants to do a lot more, he stops himself just in time. Maybe he can get away with more once they're married.

They both turn their attention to the podium as Tom steps up. He is the perfect picture of a commanding wizard. He looks calm and completely in control. Of course, he controls his emotions and reactions, and only those closest to him can tell that he is somewhat restraining himself.

The voting is not anonymous—Tom will know who to curse later if he does not get the needed votes. It is time for his speech. He hasn't prepared anything but already knows what he's going to say.

"The wizarding community here in Britain has suffered a political stagnation for many years. The Ministry is not functioning as it should; it has fallen into disorder. Our reality is that wizards and witches do not trust the Ministry. All that will now change. It is my intention to bring Britain's magical community out of the muck it has fallen into over the years. The constant and unstoppable stream of Muggle conventions will now come to an end. It is time for us to start honouring our own traditions. There is a violent distinction between Light and Dark magic, a cause furthered by many who would rather see us become relics of the past than acknowledge magic as a gift, whether Light or Dark. Dark magic is considered harmful and some may even call it evil, but that is simply propaganda spread by the misguided. I intend to bring back the old ways which have served us in the past. All magic is to be celebrated."

It creates a mild buzz in the courtroom. Tom lifts his hand to silence them and it works splendidly. "Our children will learn all areas of magic. There will be no discrimination. Healers will no longer have to rely on spells which are considered fully Light magic to save lives. A mother will not be arrested for using blood magic in order to free her child from a curse. There will be restrictions, of course. Unforgivables will still be banned from widespread use, excluding Aurors and Hit wizards."

"I believe that is it time to bring back the long-forgotten days of glory when magical society thrived. I wish to see our world prosper once more. This can only happen if reforms are implemented and the Ministry purged from incompetent and corrupted bureaucrats. Positions will not be handed out for special favours or bought with gold but rather assigned to those skilled enough to do a proficient job."

The Chief Warlock clears his throat as Tom ends his speech. "The Wizengamot will now vote. All in favour of appointing Lord Thomas Gaunt as the Minister for Magic for the next four years please raise your hand."

Tom's plenty menacing to scare people into raising their hands but he hopes that he doesn't have to. The Dark faction raises their hands. Sirius with his twelve votes, Lucius with his five, Greengrass, Parkinson and Nott with their votes. Almost all the pure-bloods raise their hands. Neville makes the first move and raises his hand, signalling that he, as Lord Longbottom, supports the wizard and his ideas. It prompts many others to raise their hands as well. As a whole, Tom's ideas are not all that outrageous.

Doge's supporters remain steadfast in their refusal to see beyond Dumbledore's dead arse. But those who had not seen Doge as a possible Minister can be swayed. Tom is impatient but hides it well. Frankly, this is all unnecessary because he's the Dark Lord and he can just storm the Ministry and take over. He could just kill everyone. He misses it. He misses the torture.

The voting comes to an end, shaking Tom out of his daydream. "Forty-seven against five. Lord Gaunt takes office."

Members of the Wizengamot applaud but this is all a formality for the Dark Lord. Things have already been set into motion. He looks up to the stands and spots Lucius and Sirius, looking rather comfortable sitting side by side. He even sees Black holding Lucius' hand. It's…strange, he thinks. Never before has he seen Lucius so relaxed, especially in public. Black's softly speaking to the man, leaning in closer than socially acceptable. But it seems that Lucius no longer cares to hide.

People shake his hand and congratulate him and Tom is forced to smile and make inane small talk. After a while, Tom is able to get away and he meets up with Sirius and Lucius. The couple congratulates him as well, but it's only for show. He has to stand before reporters in a moment but wants to prepare himself. He isn't sure how he will manage to smile for photographers. It's murder.

"Harry will be pleased." Lucius hums. "I believe he was worried that you will scare potential supporters away with your—scary Dark Lord aura, was it?"

Sirius snorts.

Tom is actually proud. "I am intimidating and the Dark Lord. And now I have to stand in front of all those idiots and smile and give ridiculous interviews to the likes of Skeeter."

"Sirius and I will come by Riddle Manor later today. Expect us for lunch."

Tom just nods, waving the two away. "Speak to Harry about lunch." He can see that he is being called by his new adorning fan-club. It's tedious but part of the game he's playing with the gullible public. He takes a deep breath and conjures a smile on his face. It is fake but it will do.

ooo

Lunch ends up being a party. Almost all the Inner Circle Death Eaters are present. News of their Lord's win travels fast and they all wish to congratulate him. Harry is acting the part of the perfect host, ordering the house-elves to prepare refreshments and drinks for the guests.

Tom himself is still stuck in the Ministry, but Harry is happy to entertain. The green-eyed wizard sees Sirius and Lucius arriving, and walks over to greet the men. Harry doesn't have much interest in some of the others, so he does not think of his behaviour as rude. He simply doesn't care.

Sirius grins, pulling Harry into a quick hug. He says, "You can't hide anymore, Pup."

"All good things must come to an end, I guess. But I'm never going to be one of those socialites you see strutting about, hanging on their husband's arm like a bad rash."

"You are too opinionated to pass for one." Lucius comments, an amused smile on his face. "One has to be upper class yet dim-witted enough to let everything pass over their heads."

Harry tilts his head, face showing a hint of feigned confusion, "You mean smile and stare at all the men with a pretty yet blank face."

"I'd say you would pass as one, Pup." Sirius laughs, throwing an arm around the young wizard. "Come on, I need a drink." He turns to the blond and says, "There's plenty of food, so I suggest you take yourself over there right now."

"Siri—"

"Don't Siri me, Luce. You nearly fainted on me. I won't allow that."

Harry frowns in concerns. "Everything all right?"

"Everything is perfect. Just a touch of faintness because I missed breakfast. That is all."

Sirius doesn't look all that convinced. "If you say so, Luce. Still, I won't stop pestering you until you eat something."

Thankfully, Narcissa sails through the room and attaches herself to Lucius. She wants to discuss something that has something to do with the wedding, so Sirius is happy to skip the conversation. The witch pulls Lucius along with her and the two disappear, heads bent together.

Harry notices a slight frown on Sirius' face. Probably from worrying so much. "So, tell me about the vote."

Sirius pushes his worry aside and smiles. He proceeds to tell Harry about the vote and Tom's hilarious reactions. Soon enough, Rabastan and his brother join them and they want to hear about it as well. Bellatrix only cares to hear about the horrified faces of those who did not support the Dark Lord and possibly get their names as well for a little gift basket. It will likely contain poison and other gruesome trinkets.

A few hours later, Tom steps into the room. He is greeted by at least a dozen Death Eaters, all of them enjoying drinks and gossip. One by one, they congratulate the Dark Lord for seizing control of Britain's magical community and doing so without a body count. Tom preens a bit but he is not interested in small-talk. He sees Harry filling his plate with canapés, popping every other snack into his mouth. The young wizard has yet to notice his husband leering at him.

Completely invested in sampling the delicious finger-food, Harry doesn't spot Tom's approach and he almost drops his plate when a pair of arms slide around him.

"I never thought I would enjoy getting groped by the Minister."

Tom places a kiss on Harry's neck. "I do hope I am the only Minister to encourage any sort of fantasies."

Harry leans into Tom's warmth and says, "Well, I had this one fantasy about Fudge. It involved a lot of bodily harm and mental torture."

The Dark Lord laughs, spinning Harry around in his arms to press a kiss to the younger one's lips. Harry is like a handful of putty, melting into his husband's touch. All morning long, Tom had to suffer the attention of reporters and Ministry workers, but the only attention he craves is Harry's devoted kisses and soft smiles.

"Tom, dearest?" Harry hums.

Pulling his lips away from Harry's neck, the Dark Lord smiles. "Yes?"

"Maybe you would like to explain why Elphias Doge is in the dungeons? Cissy and I went to see the pink bitch and imagine my surprise when we stumbled upon Doge, blubbering in a cell next to the nasty witch. Do you know anything about that?"

Harry's smile is sharp, his eyes blazing bright green with annoyance. He doesn't care that the man is there, but he feels uninformed. Tom had not even shared that particular piece of information.

"Did you truly expect me not to cheat?" Tom asks, not in the least bit cowed by Harry's demanding gaze. "I did not kill him publically, Harry. He will die but no one will know or really care for his fate."

"Not after you had the man humiliate himself by ranting about idiotic things and giving interviews to the Prophet about imprisoning half the population. Who was that, by the way?"

Tom hides a laugh when he says, "Well, Weasleys can be very useful."

"No way!" Harry baulks. "Was it Percy?"

The Dark Lord nods, amused by his accomplishments. "He agreed because he personally knows Doge and imitating his mannerisms and words would not be hard for him. He considered it a worthy cause because he detests Doge with a passion."

"Seriously, the twins will flip out when I tell them. They have no idea that their boring, stick-in-the-mud brother is pretty cool. Even Bill had no idea that Percy was one of yours. It's funny, really." Harry plops a canapé into his mouth and moans a little. "Quite a crowd, eh?"

Tom has a small sneer on his face. "Yes, well...they can all sod off. I'd rather have a quiet end to my day."

"Cheer up, lover," Harry smirks. "They are all very pleased, you know. This is your big triumph, Tom. I can have Bellatrix tell them to clear off. She's been walking around with a knife, I think."

"No, let them enjoy it." Tom sighs, not wanting to be a complete arsehole. "We have all worked very hard to gain this victory."

"Ah, yes...all that bribing, scheming, manipulating, coercing, lying. Must be so hard, Tom. Let's face it—you do not have the patience for such matters. That's not your forte."

Tom picks the plate from Harry's hands, places it down and grabs the young wizard into a tight hug, nuzzling his neck. Harry is happy to wrap his arms around Tom's neck. They stay in their little happy bubble until someone clears their throat.

Tom is ready to growl, but it's Lucius and it would be impolite of him. Harry clings to him still, unbothered by the interruption. Lucius sees that the Dark Lord is not in the most charming of moods and would rather fondle his husband, but it is necessary. "My Lord, forgive the interruption, but I have received news about today's mission."

Tom's eyes light up a little. "Go on. And yes, Harry can listen in. He is already cross with me for not telling him about Doge."

Lucius smirks. "Fenrir has returned with his team. It is done."

"Delightful news, Lucius." Tom's smile seems a tad too happy, bordering on manic. He turns to his confused husband to explain, "I had a team take care of a few pesky Ministry workers. They would have caused trouble and I want everything to go smoothly."

"Is that what you've been working on?"

"Mostly yes. Although many things require my attention these days. Paperwork and other such tedious matters." Tom sighs almost wistfully. "Things were easier when I could just kill people. Fewer formalities."

Lucius remembers those days. Fondly and not so fondly. It certainly is nice to not be cursed. "Fenrir has his orders, so I believe you no longer have to worry about it. He is eager to rid the world of brainless, unmitigated wankers—his words, my Lord."

Sirius bounds over, sidling close to Lucius. His lets out a groan, "Hold me, Luce. I just saw Snivelly and Cissy snogging in the hallway. With tongue and all. I think I threw up in my mouth a little."

"They are a couple, Black. I think even your pea-sized brain can understand intimacy between lovers."

Sirius shudders. "But it's Snape! Cissy is a beautiful woman; she could have any man she wishes. But no! She's been sucked in by Snape's greasy, slimy charms."

"Siri, cease your whining." Lucius hardly pays attention to Sirius' complaints. Although he is a bit surprised that Severus is allowing such a public display. The man is reluctant to share such intimacies in view of others; even more so than Lucius.

"So when are you going to make the announcement?" Harry asks, distracting Sirius, "because one has to be blind not to spot the ring on Lucius' finger. Or the fact that you were holding hands during the Wizengamot assembly." The green-eyed wizard adds when he spots Lucius flush a bit, "Neville told me, in case you want to know who snitched. He said people definitely noticed. Some ladies were whispering about it, so there's bound to be gossip."

"Well, I don't care either way. I'll be fine with whatever Luce wants. I would happily tell the public to drop dead, but that's just me."

"Seeing as we have yet to agree on a date, making a public announcement would make us appear stupid. One does not announce something like this and put down 'any day now' as the date." Lucius gripes, ignoring the Animagus' chortle.

Sirius snorts. "I told you, Luce—I am ready now. I can marry you tomorrow. But you want it to be a big event, with members of the high society rubbing elbows. I don't care about any of that, but you do and I want you to have whatever you wish. I get it, really…you want to wear the best robes and look beautiful and have all your guests muttering about it for years to come. I can literally bond with you anywhere. I only need you to be there. Just us."

Lucius seems to thaw a little, despite the man's insinuation that he's looking for attention. Then again, it is his wedding. Why wouldn't it be about him? Sirius uses the blond's moment of distraction and slips both arms around his lover. The moment is charged with tension but also something far sweeter. They don't need to say anything and, in fact, they don't. Sirius just smiles and pulls Lucius tighter against him.

Tom gives them both pointed looks, obviously uncomfortable at that moment. It is quite odd to see Lucius so utterly bewitched by Black. To the point of melting into his arms like a teenage girl. "How very Hufflepuff."

Harry huffs, twisting his fingers into Tom's arms. "Insensitive git!"

"They were being rude," Tom tries to appease Harry, but he doesn't seem all that appeased.

Lucius wants to escape, slightly mortified, but Sirius is deviously holding him hostage. He keeps his arms around Lucius, pressing his body against the blond's back. He won't let Lucius get away. When they finally marry, Sirius wants to be able to show the world that they are together. He will not have his marriage be like so many of the pure-blood unions—civility for show, only appearing together when there is a reason to put on a good act, spouses like business partners or acquaintances. It makes him slightly ill. He definitely does not want that to happen to them. He already has Lucius accepting small touches whenever they go out together but he wants more. He wants to pull Lucius into a proper snog and push him against a wall in some place public and thoroughly fondle the man. Well, it's a nice fantasy anyway.

Lucius just isn't used to such displays. In truth, he grew up learning that it is not done. Pure-bloods are not one for public affection. They are dignified and allow such things to happen in private. Abraxas had spoken about it in length. But he had also told Lucius to be interested in women and to never disgrace the Malfoy name by fornicating with males. Frankly, Abraxas had been a terrible father.

So it seems utterly foolish to act in a way that would make his old man's words into a reality. Lucius had not openly defied his father but it is not even an act of defiance now; it's his life. But back then, all those years ago, he had believed the mighty Abraxas Malfoy. It was not until he was introduced to the Dark Lord that he realised just how much Abraxas had tried to warp his mind. Tom, while completely insane, had never once told Lucius that being with a man would bring shame to his name and make him an outcast. Such things simply do not matter because it has nothing to do with magical power or intelligence. So, after a while, Lucius had stopped listening to his father and started listening to the Dark Lord.

Sirius is always trying to touch him, and each time he is denied, something sad flashes across his face. It is fleeting and he masks it with a smile, but it is there. He experiences a small fraction of rejection each time his touches are rebuffed. And it's not some casual thing that just is; no, Sirius needs it. Touch-starved as he was all those years, he seeks them constantly. It reassures him.

Tom and Harry bickering right next to them brings Lucius out of his thoughts. The Dark Lord mumbles something akin to a goodbye and Disapparates with Harry.

"And he called us rude," Sirius mutters with a frown. "Harry looked properly pissed, too. Like an angry kitten."

"Siri—" Lucius sighs, already forgetting about the Dark Lord and his spouse. "I know I am not as open…as free with showing my affection. But that does not, in any way, make me less fond of you. All my life, I've maintained a certain aloofness. For years, I had to please my father, show him that I was not the failure he always believed me to be just because I did not covet the same things he did. Just because he thought I was unnatural and a deviant."

"Luce, I know. I know, all right. Of course, I would love to be able to touch you and kiss you in public without you tensing up as if I'm diseased. But I get it. I don't want to force you into anything."

Lucius shakes his head. "You are not forcing me, Siri. Just—give me time. I am rather new to this."

Sirius smirks, "Yeah, I remember. You were as tight as a virgin."

Whether the Animagus deserves the hex is up for debate but he knows why Lucius looks like a seething cat in his arms. Thankfully, no one heard Sirius but it is exactly the sort of private business Lucius is afraid will end up reaching a wrong pair of ears. Sirius isn't known for delicacy or tact.

"Come on, Luce. I'm sorry. Don't look so angry; it's making me really hard. Makes me want to strip you naked right the fuck now. I can't resist you when you glower at me like you want to curse me."

"I have no idea why I love you."

"I'm charming, smart, rich, funny; irresistible really." Sirius lists with a smile. But he is franker when he says, "I don't know either, but I won't question it. Just count my lucky stars."

ooo

Fenrir stalks towards Lupin's cabin, his mood perfectly sour already. He sees a handful of cubs shuffling about, peering inside through the window. They like to snoop and Lupin is a good study subject.

"All right, away with you!"

The children flinch a little but no because Fenrir scares them. It is mostly because they got caught spying on the strange new resident. One by one, the young ones flee, giggling amongst themselves. Fenrir has no patience to deal with the brats, especially with the full moon so close.

He raps roughly against the door and waits. Lupin has no other choice than to let him in, so he just has to wait for the unruly cub to open the damn door. But Lupin doesn't come to answer. Fenrir pummels the door some more and growls under his breath.

After a moment, the door is yanked open. A rather ruffled Remus appears, face tight with disapproval. "What?"

Fenrir swallows a rush of indignation. The young one is disrespectful and rude. But Fenrir cannot kill him. He wants to, but he has to hold his anger deep inside.

"I'm here for your lesson, cub."

Remus pulls his jumper tighter against himself and bristles. "I'm not interested. And don't call me cub!

"I don't give a toss if you are interested or not," Fenrir says, pushing his way inside. He can force the man into submission if he has to. Although he would rather not. Too much hassle. "You crawled to my doorstep and I got saddled with you because the Dark Lord's little husband wants me to look after you. Teach you the ropes."

Remus frowns, eyes narrowing. "And I just told you that I don't care."

Fenrir gets comfortable on the sofa, kicking his feet up. He grins. "Yeah. I can tell. But I don't care about your wishes, cub. I don't care for a scrawny, pathetic wolf in my pack, but I've got no choice. Soon, you'll either adapt and survive, or die. Simple as that."

Remus slams the door shut, knowing that the older wolf will not leave him alone. He is already feeling the strain of the moon. His bones ache and his skin feels too tight; he wants to tear it and scratch it. His mouth feels dry, eyes prickle with something bitter and a hammering pain demolishes what's left of his mind. It actually feels like death.

And now the werewolf he loathes is sitting before him with a cursed grin. He infuriates Remus with his taunts and cruel existence.

"Now, I don't know what sort of crap you've been told, but I can tell that you don't know anything about your own kind. You smell like a human, and you're weak like one." Fenrir says, his lips curling into a sneer. "I can smell it on you."

"Well, I can smell that you haven't taken a shower in a while. What's the point of all this," Remus mutters, crossing his arms a little too petulantly. He's trying to mask his discomfort and fear. But the bastard can probably smell it as well.

Fenrir chuckles coarsely. "The point, Lupin, is that you will not survive the full moon if you do not learn our ways. You and the inner wolf…they make a whole. They are not two separate beings like you seem to believe."

"Why do you even care?" Remus asks. "You hate me, right? So why bother with all this?"

Fenrir barks out another laugh. "I'm just following orders, cub."

"Whatever," Remus turns away, walking to the kitchenette. He needs a drink. He mutters as he comes back with a mug of steaming hot chocolate. "Let's get it over with."

Fenrir pushes down a surge of anger; Lupin's indifference is infuriating. He treats it as a joke, even though his life may depend on it. Then again, Fenrir doesn't really care what becomes of the weak wolf. He can't make him do anything and he isn't responsible for Lupin's failure. He asks, "Do you feel the wolf?"

Remus takes a seat, wrapping a patched quilt around his shoulders. He can name at least fifty other things he would rather do at the moment, but he knows that he can't get out of it. And he doesn't want to disappoint Harry. He'll do it for Harry even though he hates it.

"Lupin, answer the fucking question." Fenrir barks. "Do you feel the wolf or not?"

"I don't understand what that means! Feel the wolf how?"

Fenrir gets to his feet and smirks as he sees Remus flinch and pull away from him. He wants to smack the man for his ignorance but refrains from attacking the other werewolf. "Do you feel like there's two of you; like there is another set of thoughts, urges, desires?"

Remus shakes his head, but he isn't sure and says, "I don't know, maybe."

"It's like having another inside your mind. Once you accept it, the feeling will pass. Your senses will be even more heightened. The transformation will become less painful. It will no longer feel like a violation. Part of your human mind will still be there after the transformation and you will have some awareness."

"Will I still hurt innocent people?" Remus asks with a sneer. "I will still be just an animal."

"Look, you can keep shovelling this shit down your throat; I don't care whether you do it or not. You think being a werewolf is a death sentence. There are worse conditions than turning into a beast every now and then. Trust me, I've seen a lot worse. Being a werewolf isn't a fucking walk in the park, but we manage it just fine. All you have to do is open your bloody eyes and look around you. My pack has a comfortable existence. We're not monsters. You've seen the children."

"Children you probably infected."

Fenrir growls an almost inhuman sound. His eyes flash dangerously. "I've given them a home here. I don't know who infected them but I do know that all of them were unwanted by their parents. Here they have a chance to survive. And for the record, you are the only child I have ever purposely infected. You can thank your old man for that."

"I find it hard to believe. Everyone knows what you are, Greyback." Remus laughs a little too cruelly.

The older werewolf scoffs. "Yeah, they all know why they should fear me. Instinct is a powerful thing, Lupin. And for a while, my only instinct was to hurt those who wanted to hurt me. You've had a fairly comfortable life. You don't know what it's like to be hunted, to be bound by silver chains…you think being shunned is the worst of it, but it's really nothing compared to running for your life, knowing that you will be put down like a sick dog once they catch you. You think you've had it rough?"

"I was a child when you did this to me!"

"So was I, but that didn't stop your father from condemning me to death. Fucking hell, Lupin—how old do you think I am? I was thirteen when your father took one look at me and labelled me a monster. I was homeless, living in the woods near smaller towns. I wasn't a Death Eater, just a scrawny kid trying to survive. I was angry and alone."

"That's not true. You—"

Fenrir snorts. "I really don't care what you believe. I found my way to the Dark Lord years after running into your father. I don't know what your daddy told you, Lupin, but I wasn't some child-eating beast killing Muggles."

Remus looks away, unsure what to think. It is true that Greyback looks a bit younger than he should but that might not mean anything. Then again, the werewolf has no reason to defend himself, unless he really feels that he is being misjudged.

Fenrir stalks to the door and yanks it open. "This is never going to work."

"So you're letting me face the full moon unprepared?"

Fenrir smirks. "It would please me greatly to get rid of you, but I can't go against the Dark Lord's orders. If I can't teach you, I'll find someone who can. We have a few elders in the pack. They might be able to help you connect to the inner wolf."

And then he's gone, the door slamming shut after him. Remus lets out a deep sigh. He's relieved but also terrified and confused. He's not feeling well and he is emotionally drained, but death suddenly seems like something dreadful and unnecessary. He needs to learn how to survive. He has a chance to make things right with Harry and Sirius and he desperately wants it.

ooo

"Why in Merlin's name did I think this would be a good idea?"

Harry smirks and glances to his left. Neville looks seriously haggard and a bit peaky. "Nev, you need this. Not to be rude or anything, but your grandmother is a bitter old bitch. She doesn't care about your independence. Never will."

"I get letters every sodding day, Harry. Offers of marriage and betrothal contracts to people I haven't even heard of. I had to ban Gran from leaving her room because she's a manipulative nosy-parker who won't accept the fact that I am not my father. It's horrible!"

"Who gives a fuck about any of that, Nev? You decide what you want to do with your life. Claiming the title of Lord Longbottom makes you a valuable and prestigious player and you should use this to further your own ideas and plans. This is your chance to make a difference." Harry smiles, adding, "I mean, I have big plans."

Neville frowns. "What sort of plans?"

Harry shifts in his seat, his expression changing a bit. "Oh, you know…reforms and stuff. I've been thinking about Hogwarts a lot. Tom's not interested in segregation but he wants Muggle-borns and Muggle-raised kids to know what they are getting themselves into. There are self-updating records of magical children born in Britain, so we know where they are. It would be really easy to pay those families a visit before the age of eleven. Like Muggles with their social workers, only the Ministry would be monitoring magical children. Someone will regularly visit and observe the family, and if there are signs of abuse, the Department of Magical Welfare will intervene and re-home the children in need of help."

"Never heard of that department."

Harry grins. "That's because it's new. I just invented it. Tom will get the ball rolling."

"So where would these kids go? An orphanage?"

Harry shakes his head. "No, definitely not. We'll open a children's home; a big house somewhere nice, with lots of room outside for the kids, so they would all feel at home and happy. Sirius says that the Black Family has loads of properties just sitting empty, so it shouldn't be hard to convert something into a home. I want mistreated kids to feel safe. I want magical children to know that they are loved and that they are not freaks or unwanted. I never had that, you know. I want to make it better for those who can still be saved."

"That's a great idea, mate."

"What about you, Nev? What's the big dream, eh?"

Neville shrugs, although there is a small smile on his face. "I haven't really thought about it. I thought about asking Sprout to be my mentor, but I'm not sure I want to teach. It would be too limiting for me. I want to discover new species of plants, trek through some jungle or climb a mountain in search for some magnificent unknown flora. I can't do that if I'm teaching."

"And Pansy?" Harry asks.

Neville shrugs. "I don't know. We're good together and it's fun, but we haven't talked about anything beyond fun. We haven't made plans. Hell, I don't even know if there is a future for us. We're interested in the here and now."

"You'll figure it out, Nev." Harry pats the other's leg and says, "I'm having lunch with Fred and George in a bit, and I know they'd be happy to see you."

Neville gives Harry a nod. "Yeah, haven't seen much of them."

"Oh, that's because they're actually trying to get a hang of being real businessmen. They have a second shop lined up and all. New products and innovative pranks, new staff—new attitude really." The green-eyed teen smirks. "Lucius has been helping them. I'm sure Siri put him up to it but it's nice, you know. Those wankers need a babysitter or they'll blow something up."

A voice from behind says, "Now, Pup…make sure Luce doesn't hear you. He'll deny it and curse me for something I didn't even do."

Harry cranes his neck and sees Sirius. "What? It's true. I'm not sure I believe that Lucius willingly decided to help Fred and George because he's such a good person."

Sirius slumps next to Harry, a bark of laughter coming from his mouth. "This isn't charity, Harry. Luce can see that the twins are sitting on a mountain of gold. You should have seen him when he realised that those morons don't even know what they have. I swear he seemed ready to weep. Besides, I'm helping out, too."

"Well, I don't really care why he's doing it." Harry shrugs. "I'm glad Fred and George are not on their own. Lucius won't let their business sink."

"Neither would I, Pup. They're good kids. Brilliant pranksters. And they obviously never received any encouragement from their parents."

Harry says, "I imagine Molly never cared for pranks and a bit of fun, and Arthur likely never stood up for his sons because he didn't want to rock the boat."

Neville interjects, "But it could be worse, right? It's not like Fred and George are selling illegal potions in some seedy corner of Knockturn Alley. They're pretty clever and well-adjusted."

"Well-adjusted?" Harry laughs. "They're chaotic. Insane. Bonkers. But in a really good way."

"Luce wants to see them later," Sirius tells Harry, "so tell them to get their arses over to Malfoy Manor afterwards. Something about finances and something else I didn't bother to remember." Then he's getting up and asks, "Are we going to check on Remus?"

Harry seems to think about it and says, "I think so. Tomorrow he's either going to suck up his pride and connect with Moony or he's going to be a wet puddle on the ground. Either way, I feel like I should see him before one of those things happens."

"So Remus isn't a bad guy? I'm a bit confused here." Neville frowns, looking back and forth between Sirius and Harry. "When did this happen?"

"Oh, sorry…" Harry smiles sheepishly, "I forgot to tell you. Remus is being converted."

Sirius snorts. "You didn't give him a chance to decline."

"Yeah, because I don't really care about that. I want him to stop being so damn pitiable. Mum and Dad would both give him a swift kick up the arse for it. He's such a strong person and Dumbledore used him and twisted his mind. It's time for him to take back his life."

"Well, I mean…he was a great teacher, wasn't he? I don't have anything against him personally. I just thought he was siding with the Order."

"Definitely not. Moody hated him. Tried to poison him, too. Remus didn't exactly shed any tears when I told him about Moody's death. He just seemed really done with everything. I can understand that. But I don't want him to mope for the rest of his life, so I'm forcing him to accept things that cannot be changed."

Sirius nods. "You're annoying like that, Pup."

"Exactly."

ooo

Sitting in his study, Lucius tries to concentrate on getting some work done but it's definitely not going well for the man. He's distracted and oddly weary; even though he has not done much to feel like a ninety-year-old. Sirius had tried to entice him earlier but he didn't go along with the man's plans to shag in the bathtub, so he really has nothing to blame his tiredness on. Just paperwork.

The documents in front of him all blur together and there's a weird sensation of queasiness which seems highly odd. Lucius pushes the papers aside, spotting a newly-filled carafe of wine on the cabinet. But the idea of a drink makes his stomach roll even more. In fact, the thought of some quality red makes him sick.

When he tries to summon a rather thick volume of laws from the bookcase, a simple wandless Accio proves to be a massive problem. Instead of flying straight to the man, the book does a few backflips and shoots straight for the opposite direction. It collides with the door and falls to the ground with a heavy thump. Since something like this has never happened to Lucius, he stares at the book with a bit of anger. Then he tries again only to shatter an unsuspecting glass into dust particles. It happens again with the rather boring edition of Households Charms; poor book gets shredded.

Lucius tries again but none of the objects he summons actually reach him. Frustrated and reasonably alarmed, the wizard grabs the wand sitting on top of the dossiers and flicks it. But nothing interesting happens at first. Just as he's about to hurl the useless piece of wood across the room, an entire row of books tumble to the floor, four or five of them wiggling on the carpet as if they are unsure which way to go.

With his study in a mess, Lucius steadily takes a seat and attempts to gather himself. Although he's more close to hyperventilating than calming down. A fearful thought slips into his mind—a thought that closely resembles terror and powerlessness. If he can't perform a simple smell, if he can't even summon a fucking book…

Before the panic can set in properly, an elf pops into the room and informs him of visitors. Then the little creature frowns and starts tidying up, placing the books back with a snap of its fingers. Lucius takes what he needs from the study and flees.

Fred and George are slouching in the drawing room, but both straighten up when Lucius arrives. He knows that he looks properly petrified but neither Fred or George will likely comment because they like their heads where they are.

"I trust you have completed your home assignment?"

Fred nods, although he doesn't look very happy. "We did the incredibly mind-numbing math and now know how much income we are bringing in with the latest line of products."

"Good." Lucius hums. He tries to put the incident out of his mind and says, "We are going to Gringotts then."

George looks at Fred with a narrowed gaze. "Sorry, I'm really not following."

"You have a business account, correct?" Lucius asks.

Fred blinks and opens his mouth, but he snaps it shut. Only to open it again. "We have an account. But it's the one George and I use."

Lucius mentally counts to ten and says, "I see. So you do not have a business account?"

"No," George shrugs. "I mean, we haven't really been to Gringotts in a while. All the money we make, we just keep in the shop. Like, in a totally locked box and all."

"Seeing as you are so woefully uneducated, I will instruct you on how to manage a business account."

Fred smirks. "We're idiots. We told you this already. This is nothing new."

"And yet you keep surprising me with your increasing level of stupidity," Lucius comments and turns to leave. Sirius appears out of nowhere and slides next to Lucius.

He spots the redheads and greets them. But he really wants to kiss Lucius and doesn't care that there are Weasleys present. And to his shock, Lucius lets him. But the moment is short-lived because Lucius gives him a small shove and says, "I need to take those two to Gringotts."

"What's wrong?" Sirius asks. There is just something about Lucius that seems off. So he's sure that something is not quite right. He senses some sort of distress. "You look upset. And I can feel how tense you are. So spill."

Lucius shakes his head. "Nothing is wrong. I am merely tired."

"Yeah...that sounds like crap, Luce. I know something's up with you." Sirius frowns. He says, "How about this—I'll take them to Gringotts and help them with whatever they need. And you stay home and relax. Maybe have a nice soak, with that new bath salt you are so obsessed with. "

"I am perfectly capable—"

"Yes, I know. But I don't care, Luce. Let me do this for you. Just accept that I'm doing something nice for you and stop making such an offended face." Sirius nips at the blond's lips one last time and smirks. "Besides, they'll drive you insane within the hour. I can handle it."

Lucius, too exhausted and upset to argue, just gives the man a quick nod and slips away. Sirius watches him climbing the staircase with a frown marring his brow. Something is going on. Lately, he's seen Lucius tire out more easily. He's not eating properly either, always skipping meals. It could all be due to the fact that he almost died and that he is simply getting his strength back, but Sirius feels like that's just a comforting lie that he tells himself. He feels that something is not right; not right at all.

He turns to the Weasley boys and grins. He has to put all the troublesome thoughts away for now and focus on Fred and George who are in need of help.

ooo

"Are you sure we should be here now, so close to the full moon…with, you know, a bunch of werewolves?"

Harry gives George a narrowed look. The twins, having spent a few mindless hours in Gringotts, had wanted to tag along while he and Sirius visit Remus. Now they are acting all skittish and whiny, which does not spell good things for the redheads. Fenrir is meeting them and he can likely smell the unease.

Sirius gives the redhead a friendly slap on the back and says, "You'll be fine. Hardly any meat on you anyway."

Then he's gone, barking out a laugh.

Harry has nothing to add but he still says, "You'll be fine. Fenrir knows we're coming. I mean, he knows I'm coming with Sirius, but I'm sure you'll be all right."

They reach Fenrir, who's sitting on a log near the large bonfire site. Harry sets down the small bag in his hand and enlarges it.

Fenrir asks in a gruff tone, "What's that?"

"Books." Harry hums, sticking his hand into the bag. He pulls one out and says, "Children's books, schoolbooks, any sort of books really. For the kids and anyone else interested in reading. This is part of my plan to educate the kids."

Fenrir has nothing against it. He just knows that one wizard cannot change the way werewolves are seen by society. But teaching the young ones might not be such a bad idea after all. However, he sees something far more interesting than books. Two identical redheads stand behind Harry, shuffling their feet like misbehaving puppies. He can tell that one of them smells a bit like fear, while the other is simply curious.

Harry sees the glint in the werewolf's eyes and says, "No, you cannot eat my friends."

Fenrir snorts, getting to his feet. He gives a nod towards the house Remus dwells in and says, "He's stubborn; very pigheaded for such a weak wolf. Wanted nothing to do with me. He has an attitude problem."

"Well, he'll just have to suck it up. I want him to teach these kids."

"Figured you'd say that, so I asked Queenie to talk to him. She's one of the elders here. The pack respects her and they might respect Lupin too if he's under her tutelage."

Harry nods. He motions Fred and George to follow him. But George stays where he is and asks, "I'd like to meet the kids if you don't mind? I brought loads of awesome stuff with me, and I want to give them to the children."

Fenrir shrugs. "Go for it, kid. Just know that I'll rip you to shred if they end up pranking me. I know what sort of stuff you deal in, Weasley."

"You know, I am deeply hurt that you think that. I only have the best of intentions." George grins. He waves to his brother and Harry, already walking towards the clearing where the children are playing. Harry shares a look with the werewolf, and Fenrir understands. He has to babysit. He's the pack's Alpha, the big bad wolf in charge, and he still has to watch over some redheaded menace.

Fred sighs. "I better go with him. Come and find us when you're ready to leave, mate."

Then he's jogging after George, with a disgruntled Fenrir stalking after him.

Inside the cabin, Harry finds Sirius sitting on the weathered sofa with his feet kicked up. Remus is in the kitchen making tea, but he looks up from the pot when he hears the door creak. Actually, he could hear steps outside the cabin, but he doesn't want to think about his super senses right now.

Harry smiles and asks, "How's your training going? With Queenie."

To be perfectly honest, Remus hates every minute of it. Queenie is old, incredibly wise, and candid. She does not wish to help Remus but she doesn't want to see her pack kill him either. But Remus finds it so hard to follow her instructions. Not because she's explaining it in a bad way, but because he just can't stomach the idea of connecting with the one thing he hates most in the world. He can feel Moony all the damn time; the beast is scraping at the inside of his skin, breathing through his nose, lurking behind his eyes, pummelling in his blood with rage.

"Remus?"

Harry's concerned voice makes Remus stop thinking about it for a moment. He doesn't want to upset Harry by telling him that he has no intention of surviving. He'll be glad to die. It goes against everything he has been taught but the pain of having a beast inside him makes it unbearable. Instead of snapping at the young man, Remus sighs and tries to smile. "It's not as horrible as I thought it would be."

"You're such a shit liar, Remus." Sirius laughs.

Harry seems to agree, only he's not all that amused. "Why aren't you taking this seriously?"

Lupin steps out of the kitchenette, a frown starting to appear. He feels like he's going around in circles. "Harry, it's not as easy as you think. I can't—"

"Can't turn into a massive wolf? Remus, this is a part of you that can't be ignored or changed. It happens whether you want it or not, but your transformation doesn't have to hurt. You don't have to be in pain."

"But I'm in pain all the fucking time!" Remus snaps, his voice going a bit shrill. He pulls his temper in immediately, realising that he had yelled at Harry. He says in a much quieter voice, "I can smell every little thing. My ears hurt from all the noise, even if there are no voices or sounds. My skin feels raw from all the scratching but I haven't even touched it. My bones ache, twisting inside my body with some sort of sick anticipation."

"Remus...you're making it worse for yourself by denying Moony. By denying your own nature. Just let go. You won't hurt anyone, I promise."

Remus crumples into the armchair, face buried in his hands.

Harry takes a seat on the little table and pries Remus' hands away from his face. "You've spent a lot of years hating yourself for something that you are not responsible for. It happened to you, but you didn't ask for it to happen. Sometimes life deals you a really bad hand. But you make the most of it, Remus. You move on. You don't try to change what can't be changed; you move past it. You make it work."

"Do you think I didn't consider offing myself when I was locked in Azkaban for murdering my best friends? I thought about dying every single day. But I didn't. Instead, I decided to survive that hellhole. I decided that even if I had to crawl on my hands and knees through a sodding sea, I would make it home to Harry. Life throws shit at us every fucking day, but you make it work in your favour."

Harry nods. "Siri's right, you know. You're a survivor, Remus; always have been. You can't change what happened to you but you can stop letting it ruin you."

"I'm sorry...it's just that tomorrow's the big day— or rather the big night—and I'm not feeling very well at the moment. Everything hurts. And I can smell every little thing; it's annoying and overwhelming."

"What—like you can smell what I had for breakfast?" Harry smirks.

Remus gathers himself and relaxes against the back of the armchair. He says, "If more of it ended up outside than inside, yes. Or if you didn't wash your hands after eating all that toast with blackcurrant jam."

Harry did, in fact, eat a large amount of toast with blackcurrant jam. He flicks a thumb at Sirius and says, "What does Siri smell like?"

"Harry, I'm not—" Remus snaps his mouth shut because there really is no reason to argue, although he wants to tell the wizard that he is not a performing monkey. He gets a whiff of Sirius but he can't really scent anything. Maybe a bit of whiskey. He smells like he used to smell when they were young men. But there's an underlying scent to Sirius' own distinct cologne which smells all suave and rich, with a bit of woodsy accent to it; something velvety and sweetly floral. Frankly, it smells like Sirius has a lover. He is hesitant to ask, mainly because it is not his business to ask. But he's instantly curious. He eyes the man, trying to work out if his nose is on the right track. He wants to ask, but he also knows he has no right.

"Well?" Harry interrupts, seeing that Remus is acting rather odd.

The werewolf stammers a bit and swallows. "He smells like…like he's not alone."

"As in he's shagging someone?" Harry takes it further, enjoying the way Remus cringes and avoids eye contact.

Remus sees that Harry's trying to bait him and says, "Yes, as in he has a lover. I can smell it, to put it simply."

"Well, you're not wrong," Sirius laughs, face beaming.

Harry senses Remus' slight surprise and decides to add to it. "Actually, Siri's getting married."

There is a small delay but once it reaches Lupin's brain, he's entire face slackens with astonishment. Well, not exactly that, but he is baffled and a bit alarmed. He needs tea and goes to fetch some from the kitchen.

"Siri's getting married. To Lucius Malfoy."

The teapot slips from Remus' grasp, hitting the floor with an ear-splitting clatter, spitting hot tea everywhere. Harry's cackles fill the silent cabin as Remus attempts to process the news.

But then Fenrir appears behind the door and shouts. "I need someone to remove those ginger hellions before I skewer them!"

Harry gets to his feet and says, "I should probably help with that." He looks over to a stunned Remus and says, "I will be very displeased to come back here and discover your mangled body parts scattered in the woods. Remember what I said, Remus. You're in charge of your life now; so make it count."

Harry leaves Sirius alone with Remus as he goes to deal with the twins and a rather angry-looking werewolf.

Remus starts to clean the mess in silence. Sirius sits up and says, "You're not going to say anything?"

"What do you want me to say?" Remus harks back. He has no idea what to think, let alone say. "It's not something you just spring on a bloke."

Sirius barks out a laugh. "At least you're not questioning my sanity."

Remus snorts. "Oh, I am...just not out loud." The man stands up and throws the towel on the counter. There is a glint of annoyance in his eyes as he says, "Are you kidding me? Lucius Malfoy? You mean that silver-spoon-up-his-conceited-arse ponce you used to curse every single time you saw even a glimpse of his hair? Let's see if I remember correctly. Pure blood, old money, dark magic, probably barmy underneath all that refined, polished exterior. I mean...fucking hell!"

"You literally just described me, Remus. Although there's nothing polished about me. I only wear these fancy robes because Luce keeps bitching about my standing and the etiquette and a million other boring things that I don't really care about. But I make an effort to look nice."

"Merlin's balls…" Remus mutters.

Sirius doesn't care what Remus thinks. He doesn't have to care. Even though he knows Remus was not involved, he still wants to say his piece. "You know, Mad-Eye, Shacklebolt and Molly hatched out this plan to kidnap a Death Eater to interrogate them. It was just bad timing, but they managed to capture Lucius. They tortured him of course; really went for it, you know."

Remus looks a bit peaky. "Sirius, I didn't—"

"Didn't know about it. Yeah, I know. But I want you to hear it." Sirius doesn't want to think about it but he needs Remus to understand what happens to those who fuck with him and his family; in case Remus decides to run again. "He almost died. And I thought I'd die too. What's the point in living if the man I love isn't there. But he lived. And I tore out Moody's throat for laying one bloody finger on him. I had Shacklebolt executed by the goblins because he hurt my heart. I made sure Molly died for what she did to Lucius. There is nothing I would not do to protect the ones I love. I will lay waste to this world should anyone try to hurt my family again."

"Sirius, I get it. You don't need to threaten me." Remus lets out a deep breath and says, "Look, I don't particularly like Malfoy. But I don't have to like him. It's none of my business. I'm just a little traumatised by the fact that you're currently having sex with the one wizard you once claimed to despise quite a lot."

"Of course I hated him! He's a right prat. But I fancied him from the moment I figured out how shagging works. Never told any of you because I knew you'd try to have my head checked. I forgot about him when I didn't have to see him around Hogwarts, but then he married my favourite cousin, and I felt weird about fancying him because he was married to Cissy. But now…he's all mine."

Remus raises his hand and says, "Please stop talking. I have no desire to hear about it. I'm having trouble understanding it as it is."

"There's actually a lesson in this for you, Remus. I never thought I'd have any sort of normal life after spending twelve long years rotting away in prison, but I was wrong. I'm marrying the man I love with my entire being. I have Harry. I found a way out of this vicious cycle of self-hate and misery. You have the rest of your life ahead of you now. Dumbledore is dead and the Dark Lord is finally in power and trying to change the lives of countless shunned creatures. You can choose to survive, Remus. Choose not to hurt anymore. Think about it."

Sirius stands and moves to leave. With his hand on the door handle, he smirks. "Don't you want to see me get hitched to that infuriatingly gorgeous prat? The event of a lifetime, mate."

Remus can't help but grin. There is a tiny part of him that wants to see it because it's just too surreal to understand without the visual. But he has no idea how to find the inner strength in order to face his fears.

ooo

"You know, when you said you wanted to become the Minister, I didn't actually mind the idea but I did not sign up for this shit, Tom," Harry grumbles, pulling the covers up to his chin, a petulant frown on his face.

The Dark Lord only smiles to himself. He's busy fixing himself up in front of the mirror. He needs to look good on his first day.

The shit Harry had not signed up for is, of course, the early morning wakeup calls, and the fact that his husband has to leave to actually work. And possibly the very rude neglect on Tom's part which means no morning sex.

"I will need to make an effort on the first day, at the very least."

"Fine, whatever. I'll just have a wank in the shower."

Tom turns to Harry, a smirk on his face. "You're being childish."

"What of it? I am allowed to, considering that my husband is leaving for work, even though you have no reason to actually work or even show up. Everyone knows that the Minister doesn't do anything."

"I am trying to change that misconception. I am not some moronic fop like Fudge, only interested in stuffing his pockets with bribes and sitting on his wrinkly arse all day, every day."

Harry huffs, but he does say, "Yeah, I get it. But that does not mean I have to like it."

"I know you don't like it, Harry." Tom sighs, pulling the drawer open to look for his cufflinks. He knows that being in the public eye is something Harry hates, but he will have to get over his dislike eventually. "There's going to be a gathering later this evening."

"A gathering?" Harry perks up a bit. "You mean like a Death Eater meeting?"

Tom shakes his head. "No...although many Death Eaters will attend it. But no, not a gathering in the sense you are thinking. It is for Ministry officials and department heads; frankly, everyone working for the Ministry ought to attend if they like their job."

Harry flops back against the pillows with a groan. "A fucking party! Great..."

"And you, my dear, have to attend as well. It is only proper for my loving husband to show his support."

"No way, Tom. No fucking way! I hate stuff like this. People will gawk at me and stick their noses into my business, and I can't stand it."

Confident that he is looking his best, Tom walks around the bed and takes a seat. He runs his finger down Harry's cheek. "There will be no reporters, I promise. And if anyone attempts to bother you, I will sack them on the spot. I will not let anyone harass you, Harry. You know perfectly well that you cannot remain in hiding for the rest of your life. The Order is no more, so there really is no reason for you to hide."

"Yeah, says the bloke who is using a fake name to rule the world. I'm still Harry Potter, the poor sod who got saddled with defeating Voldemort. They will not leave me alone."

Tom really has no patience to argue and simple stands. He takes his wand and stalks out of the room without another word.

ooo

As a rule, Sirius hates the Ministry. He has plenty of bad memories. But if the Dark Lord wants you to attend some stupid party in his honour, you just do it without kicking up a fuss. Unless you are Harry. He gets away with a lot of shite.

But there are perks to this, Sirius muses to himself. The biggest perk is that Lucius always looks stunning when there's a social soirée. And this is the first time he gets to attend a public party as Lucius' partner. Hell, his fiancé.

They arrive together, with Sirius wearing the smuggest smile anyone can conjure on their face. He's not overly excited but this moment means a lot to him. And something is different now. Lucius lets him get away with small touches, which is nothing new, but the blond doesn't seem to mind the more frisky touches. Not that Sirius feels the need to ask about it; he just enjoys it and thanks the gods.

"Tommy has a fan club already."

Lucius looks over to where the Dark Lord is surrounded by various people and hums. It is true that the Dark Lord can be appealing when he needs to be.

"I guess he's properly pissed that Harry didn't want to come. I understand why he'd rather stay out of the spotlight, but Pup's being stubborn out of spite. Gets that from James, I reckon."

Even though Sirius had said that he never fancied James Potter, Lucius still feels somewhat irked whenever he hears that git's name. He's not entirely certain why and he most certainly doesn't care to find out; it's just one of those unexplainable things in life. Thankfully, he does not have to say anything, seeing as Narcissa comes up to them with a flute of champagne in her hand.

"Where did you leave your slippery boyfriend?" Sirius asks, hoping to spot Severus in the room. He'd love to poke fun at the man.

Narcissa clears her throat. She, too, looks a bit miffed. "Do not mock him, Cousin. Severus is otherwise occupied, I'm afraid."

"Playing with his potions again?" Sirius smirks.

"Most likely." Narcissa sighs. She knows that getting Severus to socialise is not a trouble-free task. The man hates crowds and people. It is an unfortunate trait of the man that Narcissa loves and she has no desire to change it. Although, it would be nice to go out with her lover every once in a while. She and Lucius had attended many parties during their marriage; her sociable nature had perfectly matched Lucius' vanity. Regrettably, she will not have such luxuries with Severus Snape.

The witch smiles, feeling content even without Severus. She gives Lucius a small smile. "I was just speaking to Madam Lowry. She was quite eager to introduce her youngest daughter to you, but I think she has had a change of heart."

Elsbeth Lowry is a pure-blooded witch with a talent for finding rich husbands for her six daughters. Her husband is a dedicated Ministry worker and tends to avoid his scheming wife. Even if he was completely single and looking for someone—not to mention interested in the female anatomy—Lucius would not go near any of the Lowry girls.

"Well, she and her daughter can bugger right off," Sirius states, a certain gleam entering his eyes. He has no reason to be jealous, but it annoys him still. One of the reasons why he wants to publically stake his claim like some sort of untamed animal is to make it clear that there is no need for desperate women to fawn over Lucius. It's just not happening. Ever.

To make his point absolutely clear, Sirius smoothly slips his arm around the blond and pulls Lucius tightly against his body. He doesn't care who sees them; it's actually the best possible outcome if everyone sees. He expects Lucius to pull away, but shockingly enough, the man doesn't move an inch and he doesn't try to reason with Sirius.

Sirius is actually so surprised that he can't stop himself and asks, "You're not going to snipe at me?"

"Do you want me to?"

Sirius smiles widely. "No thank you. How about a drink?"

Narcissa titters and says, "I am so proud of you, my lovely boys. Which reminds me—have you established a date yet? I simply cannot plan the reception if I do not know any details. Do you even know how many things need organising? Of course you do not, you silly wizards."

Sirius shares a look with Lucius and an idea forms in his head. He grins. "Let's settle on…May, I think." Lucius doesn't protest so Sirius goes on, "A Beltane wedding. It would be perfect for the bonding ceremony."

Narcissa very much approves and says with an almost fanatic shine in her eyes. "Oh, it will be magnificent. I will give you the wedding of your dreams."

Then she's gone, masterfully gliding across the room. She is instantly accepted into a fold of ladies.

"You don't mind, right?" Sirius asks the blond. "Because we can pick another date. I just think May is a nice month and Beltane is the perfect time for a strong magical blessing."

Lucius has no objections. Having been raised to respect the seasonal festivals, he knows that Beltane is an extremely fertile time of the year. The blessing would be abundant. Many families no longer celebrate the old ways, likely due to Muggle influence but wild magic is older than tradition. Beltane was once widely celebrated in the wizarding world; a time of fertility and renewal. Wizards and witches celebrated the gods of the hunt and the forest, and goddesses of passion and motherhood.

So, in truth, Lucius really does not mind.

"Besides." Sirius leans closer with a smirk. "It will be warm enough for me to strip you naked and make sweet, sweet love to you under the night sky."

Perhaps it is the anticipation of what's to come or maybe it's the husky tone of Sirius' voice, but Lucius feels a delicious shiver run down his spine.

"I'll be right back," Sirius hums, disappearing from the blond's side.

He makes his way over to the men's room and slips inside. When he returns from his business and stands before the gaudy golden sinks, another wizard appears and turns on the tap. Sirius doesn't really notice the other man at first, but he looks up when the wizard clears his throat. During the years before his incarceration, Sirius had visited a lot of Muggle pubs. So he has a fairly good idea what it looks like when someone is trying to get into his pants. He thinks this is one such time and is about to leave, but the other man looks particularly smarmy. He looks like he wants to share some rather juicy gossip.

"Look, if you have something to say…" Sirius barks, his temper spiking a bit.

The other man looks up and just gives Sirius a sort of weird half-smile. "I saw you with Lucius Malfoy."

Sirius doesn't say anything but his expression clearly states that he's not about to let some stranger comment on it.

"How did you do it, eh? What did you do to get a delectable piece of arse like that?"

Now, Sirius isn't the sort who enjoys pointless violence. He doesn't have a lust for it like some do. But seeing such a leeching grin on some idiot's stupid face makes his blood sing with it. He craves this aggression that's boiling inside.

"I mean, he seems like a frigid bitch, but I bet he's a lot less prickly when you get him on his knees."

It's not even a thought. It's just a wild instinct. Sirius grabs the man by his collar and yanks him around, only to pull back his fist with the sole intent of smashing it in the bloke's face. In an instant, he hits the other one with little fanfare. As soon as he hears the crunch of bone—feels it move under his fist—Sirius feels a lot better. He drops the man on the floor like a piece of trash, enjoying the sight of blood trickling down the man's chin and his wide, fearful eyes.

"You don't look at him or even think about him. Got that?"

"I'll go to the Aurors, I'll file a—" The man splutters, holding his face. But he does not finish. His eyes glaze over a bit and he looks disorientated in a flash.

Sirius pockets his wand and leaves. On second thought, he really doesn't need to get caught up with Aurors and lawsuits. Thank fuck for memory charms.

ooo

While the Dark Lord is busy chatting with his new minions, Lucius thinks it best not to interrupt. He has no need to bribe anyone. He has no need to even talk to anyone because he does not have to manipulate or coerce. In fact, he feels ready to go home. He can see Tom some other time and discuss whatever the new Minister deems a worthy cause.

No one questions the presence of non-Ministry workers. Most of the people present are Death Eaters. The few who are not Death Eaters have no idea anyway. Lucius spots one of the Weasleys. He has seen this one around the Ministry before. In truth, no one is all that bothered by the change in politics.

With Sirius missing from his side, the blond walks over to the refreshments and plucks a canapé from one of the trays. He's not particularly hungry; everything seems to make him nauseous these days, much to his displeasure. He does not dare say anything because then Sirius will be an insufferable nag, but he isn't feeling very well. He is physically uncomfortable. But the biggest tragedy, the one he is not willing to admit to anyone, including himself, is the magical instability. On some days, he has no trouble with it but on occasion, he can't even perform the simplest of spells. Blaming it on the recent events is a good plan and Lucius sticks to it, even though deep down he knows that he is just deluding himself. The truth is that there is an issue with his magical core, but admitting it would make it far too real.

He pushes such thoughts into a small box and shoves it to a back corner of his mind. He has perfect timing because Sirius is stalking straight towards him with a very annoyed look twisting his handsome face into a grimace.

"Do we have to stay here for another bloody minute?"

Lucius is a bit puzzled by his lover's sudden irritation, but he also knows Sirius won't talk about it with so many other people around him. The wizard's frown can be seen around the room.

"Wait for me by the Floo. I have to let Narcissa know that we are leaving or she will be furious with us later."

Sirius nods and sneaks in a quick kiss. "Thank Merlin. I thought I would have to shag you in a broom cupboard or something."

Lucius thinks that he should feel at least a bit scandalised by that declaration but he only feels heat pooling downwards. Sirius is in a mood. One that stresses the feeling of urgency and longing. And he happens to enjoy it when Sirius is struck by one of his more amorous moods.

ooo

When Remus opens his eyes late in the evening—the dreaded night of the big day—he lets out an annoyed sigh. He throws the covers aside and stretches, bones popping and cracking. There is a terrible ache inside him, but he doesn't let it trouble him too much. He brews some tea and nibbles on a biscuit, feeling his skin prickle with anticipation.

Moony is twitchy. But he's been like that for the past few weeks. Actually, Moony has been agitated ever since leaving the Order but Remus, like a proper idiot, is just now noticing it. His instincts and senses are sharper now.

He can feel the moon rising. Moony is almost taunting him, shaking his coat under Remus' human skin, ready to tear its way out.

"All right. You want out, you mangy arsehole? I'll let you out." Remus mutters to himself, flexing his shaking hands into fists.

He knows the theoretical part of it; at least he thinks he understands. There really is no textbook for him to flick through. He just has to rely on the elder's words. She had explained it to him in detail, even though it is very hard to put into words.

But he will try. He will try his hardest to survive this. The frustration had not allowed him to see past the pain and hatred, but he feels a lot calmer now; calm enough to realise that he really doesn't want to die.

It's already dark inside but he still has a few hours to gather his courage and face the biggest challenge of his life. He can hear children shrieking outside, laughing as they run past his cabin. And he feels that while he can blame Fenrir for infecting him, he shouldn't blame him. Fenrir had been so young and stupid, just a scared teenager lashing out with his teeth. He's a massive twat and Remus certainly dislikes the werewolf, but he feels that it is pointless to quarrel and to hate. He has had enough of hate and pain. Now he just wants to move on.

He prepares another cup of tea, adding a few drops of whiskey to it. He is too fidgety to eat and besides, he is craving something other than stale biscuits and marmalade. Just thinking about some rare and succulent steak makes his mouth water. Perhaps he'll catch a rabbit tonight. Remus shakes his head. He feels weird with such intrusive thoughts invading his mind. He knows that the wolf is responding to the call of the moon. Moony is slowly taking charge of his body and mind. But he has to let it happen. He can't fight it.

And oddly enough, he lets it happen without even thinking about it too much. These intrusive thoughts are not foreign to him because the wolf is part of the human.

Remus spends the next dreadfully dull hours just trying to relax. He attempts to allow Moony to come out without interference. Which is not an easy task because he has never actually done it before. All his life, Wolfsbane has numb him to it. Wolfsbane had shut Moony in and Remus never had to worry about connecting with the wolf. They had been two separate beings who never had to connect on any level.

So it's understandably hard for the man to just let it all out. But he has no choice and must obey his nature. He feels like a clumsy toddler learning to walk, bumping into things as he totters around. He has never been a feral animal by choice but he has to be one now or risk losing his life. Just when his life has the potential to be more than a curse.

Driven by some unknown impulse, Remus shed his clothes and sits with the quilt around his bare shoulders. He wants to go outside but he fears the others.

Pack

Remus winces as the thought imposes on his every sense, pushing out of him with force. Never before has he felt such a strong desire to be a part of a pack. But he is still Remus, despite feeling Moony's yearning for companions.

Pack

The word rings in his mind over and over. The wolf growls, sending a shiver down his back. Everything prickles with expectancy; every hair on his body stands up like spikes on an animal.

He hears noises outside. But he doesn't want to look out of the small window to see what it is. The others are likely gathering on the clearing, ready to transform.

"Lupin, it's time."

Remus jumps a little, terrified of the idea. Fenrir is waiting for him, most likely waiting to see if he will become the night's entertainment for other wolves. He isn't a member of the pack. The others treat him with trepidation and no one really talks to him. Well, he hardly ever leaves the cabin, so it's mostly his own fault that the other wolves haven't socialised with him.

A terrible pain paralyses the man but it soon smoothes out and becomes an ache in his bones. Remus takes a deep, shaky breath and steps outside. He sees at least thirty or more people, including the small group of children. Fenrir walks up to him, completely naked. "It shouldn't be long now. You feel the change, Lupin?"

Remus attempts to avert his eyes. He really doesn't want to stare at Greyback's rather sizeable cock. Transforming into a giant wolf while wearing a tweed jacket really is a bother, but Remus has never transformed with other wolves in sight. Other naked men, to be more exact. Not that he hasn't seen naked men before but he's already experiencing a traumatic event, and he can do without the additional mortification of eyeing someone's naked arse. Fenrir Greyback's arse, in fact.

But as the minutes tick away, Remus can feel the human side of him falling away as well. It's like shedding skin. His thoughts become less human as the animal takes charge of him. Instincts kick in and Remus lets them overpower him completely. He doesn't even notice his bones cracking and rearranging themselves, popping into their new place. The pale human skin changes into a course pelt of mixed brown and grey.

But it's not painless. It hurts and burns his lungs; his heart hammering in his chest with wild abandon. Everything narrows down into a cluster of new smells and sensations. In the past, Remus had never been present during the full moon and he had never remembered anything from the ordeal. But he is present now. Not fully, but still...a tiny part of the human remains, nestled inside the wolf.

As Remus fades into a small but not insignificant thought, Moony grows bigger. Until the wolf stands on his own and feels a ripple tear through him. He stands on his hind legs, hunched forward as he pants with fatigue.

Numerous howls ring out as the moon shines bright pale in the sky, perfectly round and perfectly cruel.

Moony is too excited to move. But he is instantly pulled into a situation where many of the wolves attempt to attack him. They circle him with vicious snaps of their jaws, tails whipping in agitation. Moony isn't very big or brawny, but he isn't as weak as many believe him to be. He snarls with the same viciousness and bares his teeth with a low growl.

Fenrir keeps a distance, observing the new wolf. He doesn't regard him as a threat, but he does feel something curious. He recognises the new wolf as one of his own, but not a member of his pack.

After a while, the wolves leave the newcomer alone. Most of them dash into the forest to hunt. Only a few female wolves remain behind with the cubs. Fenrir, however, feels a strong and strange urge to make the other wolf submit to him. He doesn't give it a chance to run and with a powerful leap, Fenrir forces the weaker wolf to the ground. He pins Moony down and keeps him subdued for a moment, waiting for the other wolf to accept the show of dominance. Greyback pulls away as Moony lets out a low whimper; a sign of his understanding.

As pack leader, Fenrir soon disappears into the forest to lead the hunt, leaving Moony alone. As an outsider, he does not dare to do much. But he is terribly hungry. However, he does not get a chance to find a rabbit for himself. The cubs tumble towards him, with the slightly older ones approaching more slowly, attempting to look bored and uninterested.

The three smaller ones try to nip at him, their little snouts scrunched up into an adorable snarl which is meant to intimidate but rather looks like a puppy's grimace. They swarm around Moony, bumping into him and trying to tackle the larger wolf.

Moony is hesitant at first, but the cubs just want to play with him. They are curious. So he lets them bite and scratch; he even lets them scale him and yanks at his tail. After a while, the smaller ones tire themselves out and they snuggle up to the strange wolf. The older cubs keep an eye on the proceedings, but they, too, huddle close after a moment.

That's how Fenrir finds them after the hunt—Moony's personal space invaded by the cubs. He huffs and lets out a low rumble, which rouses the other werewolf. Fenrir turns to leave, sensing that it is nearly time for the moon to slip under.

Moony eyes him warily but doesn't move; mostly because he's under a pile of kipping cubs. He is, however, a bit alarmed when Fenrir stalks back to him. He plops a few dead rabbits on the ground in front of Moony's nose and leaves. All the cubs scramble awake when the smell of the rabbits starts to tickle their sensitive noses. Moony watches as the downy-looking pups tear into the rabbits, knocking into each other as they dive in.

Moony places his head back on his paws and lets out a puff of hot air. He keeps his eyes on the cubs for a while, but he soon drifts off. The moon is finally pulling back its cursed rays.

When Remus opens his eyes, it's already morning. Everything aches and he has a terrible, almost rancid taste in his mouth, but he is alive. He has both of his legs, two arms and all of his fingers and toes. But most importantly, his head is still attached to his neck. There is a heavy, woollen quilt draped over him. And there is a small child sleeping next to him, bundled up in a similar blanket. A moment later, a small army of children approach him in a not so gentle manner and they all pile on top of him with smiles and giggles.

Waking up after a transformation has never been so bizarre, Remus thinks. And the strange thing about it is that he actually remembers bits and pieces of it. Another nice bonus is that he is unharmed and fairly sane.

He sounds a bit insane as he starts to laugh, staring up at the sky. He blinks as a face appears.

"You might want to get up now, Lupin."

Remus sighs, "Why? Are you going to kill me? Like some sort of sick, delayed afterthought?"

Fenrir sneers, "Just get your skinny arse to the cabin. In case you haven't noticed, Lupin, you are lying in the dirt. Naked. In January."

The kids cackle and disappear, all of them running off. Fenrir huffs out, "There's food if you're hungry."

Remus sits up, bemused. "You're asking me if I want something to eat?"

"In my pack, we all share the meat from the hunt. If you want to know what that's like, you can join us."

"I thought the whole point was that you didn't want me in your pack."

Fenrir makes a face and turns to leave. He gets a few steps in but then he halts and turns. "Look, I still think you're a massive pain in my arse. You feel the same about me. But the cubs like you and I'd be a right wanker to kill you now that the cubs have accepted you. So eat, don't eat—I don't give a toss."

Remus watches in stunned silence as Fenrir walks off. He feels the cold starting to seep through the ground and bite at his naked arse. He gathers the quilt and hurries inside his cabin. A cleaning charm will have to do for now. He puts on a fresh pair of socks, throws on an old bathrobe and puts the kettle on. He feels like an old man, with his jammy biscuits and steaming tea and aching knees. But he is rather pleased with himself. He knows that Moony is happy too.

After a while, when Remus is ready to have a little nap, there's a knock on the door. Thinking that it's Fenrir again, Remus is ready to tell the wolf to bugger off, but he doesn't hear Greyback's rough voice. He opens the door, only to find one of the younger children on his doorstep; the boy holds out a plate for Remus. The roasted meat smells heavenly, just on the right side of raw and it even has a heap of cooked vegetables on the side.

Remus takes the plate but before he can say anything, the kid gives him a wave and dashes off. The meal looks tasty and Remus is famished, so he accepts the offering. The kids have no real idea who he is and so they are curious about him; not to mention, they don't treat Remus as if he's someone to be feared. They have no need to fear him. Remus is the same as them; infected, unwanted, inexperienced. It's such a strange and baffling thought that it forces Remus to take a seat; his legs feel a bit shaky, just as his heart gives a jolting flutter. For the first time in his life, Remus Lupin does not feel like a reject. He is not an outcast among his own kind. A smile spreads over Remus' thin lips; perhaps the first genuine smile after a very long time.