Hello all!

The end is near... sort of. This story is close to the end but will continue in another part. I have an aversion to stories with too many chapters, so I'm dividing it up, according to books, so where PoA leaves off, so will this part, more or less... I anticipate at least three more chapters before starting on the next part, so bear with me...

This chapter has a flashback and introduces another character, who will show up in the next part, but I had to introduce her here...

Warning: references to violence

Dislclaimer: I don't own any characters you recognize. They are the property and creation of JK Rowling. But you know that...


Chapter 21: Wolf Like Me

'Got a curse we cannot lift

Shines when the sunset shifts

There's a cure comes with a kiss

The bite that binds, the gift that gives'

- Wolf Like Me, TV on the Radio

July, 1980.

Remus curled in a corner of a dark, dank cave, high in the mountains in the county Wicklow, listening to the sounds of others like him, passing their time like dark creatures were ought to do. The yelping and chanting at the mouth of the cave intensified as the night wore on, and Remus imagined that more than one of his ribald brethren would be dead by the end of the night.

This was a typical night among the pack, a night close to the full moon – and he hated it.

Even so, he was a part of this pack, had been for the past three months, and though he had participated in things he'd never thought he'd have to do in the name of war – in his lifetime – for the Order, he refused to participate in the bloody ritual of pack – fighting. He was determined to hold on to his last vestige of dignity, knowing that dignity did not belong in this place.

He'd been undercover in several packs already, some of them more civilized than others, but this one… this was the worst yet. The leader, a Scottish brute by the name of Fenrir Greyback, encouraged the males of the pack to fight for everything – food, women, and bragger's rights. The older man, who looked slightly canine during every phase of the moon, seemed to relish that kind of violence – for its own sake – calling it, "beautiful and real." The violence also served another purpose. The weak were rooted out early, and the ones left – the victors – were welcomed into Greyback's fold and rewarded accordingly.

Pack – fighting was a solely male sport, where only the strongest survived and the women were never, under any circumstances, allowed to participate, but to think that this rule was for their benefit was a mistake. Women in the pack were treated the worst. They were often brutalized, and made to fight the men – or whore themselves – for meager meals and some protection. Why any of them stayed was a testament to how bad it had been for them as werewolves in their own lives. One woman in particular, a young witch named Kate, was the only reason Remus (who'd realized long ago this pack would never be swayed from their leader's volatile influence) had stayed – Kate and her unborn child.

In her previous life, she'd been a talented witch, recently married and expecting her first child, when one night, as she strolled home from the market, she was attacked and bitten. It was supposed to be the best day of her life, as she'd found out that morning she was with child but it became her worst. Her husband and family were terrified of her and after her first transformation, wanted nothing to do with her, but worse, they wanted to destroy her unborn child. In panic, she'd fled, and had come to the pack at almost the same time as Remus.

Why she'd been allowed into the pack, Remus couldn't figure – at first. She could barely fend for herself, and would have never lasted a week if Greyback hadn't deemed her 'off – limits' to the males of the pack. It seemed that Greyback was keeping her there as an his own personal Petri dish, watching to see what happened next, a notion which sickened Remus more than anything else. Everyone knew she would eventually lose the baby – it was impossible for a werewolf to carry to term – but so far, she was defying the odds. At every full moon, she'd transformed, and the next morning he would find her weak and ill but still pregnant. It was only a matter of time before her body betrayed her and she lost the child; everyone expected it (some had even placed wagers on when), everyone but her.

Remus was biding his time in the pack, her unofficial protector, doing what he had to do to get by, waiting for her body to do what was in its lycanthropic nature to do, so that when the novelty of the pregnant werewolf was gone, he could take her and flee. She hadn't asked him to do it, and she didn't even know what he had planned (the truth was, he didn't even know if she would want to leave) but he had to stay, he had to try. The thought of letting her become like the others, brutalized and brutal, was too much for his fragile state of mind. If he couldn't save at least one life, then the war he was fighting was pointless – and he couldn't accept that.

As he lay in his corner watching Kate sleep from a distance (it would be foolish of him to make it obvious he was watching over her) he couldn't help but think of Lily. The last time he'd seen her, her belly had swollen considerably, and despite the dire prediction surrounding her unborn son, was the happiest he'd ever seen. He wondered if she'd already had the baby – if little Harry (the name decided on early, taken after Lily's favourite uncle) was already part of this world. It saddened him to think that he might have missed it, but he felt a little better at the thought that Peter and Sirius (the proud godfather) were there to welcome the littlest Marauder, James' and Lily's son.

He just wished he could be there, too.

A part of him knew that it was better that he wasn't. Being a werewolf, he would never be allowed into the maternity ward in St. Mungo's, a notion that would anger his mates and cause all sorts of problems when the Healers refused to let him visit. The happiest day of James and Lily's lives would be ruined and he would feel guilty for being responsible for it. No, he thought, shivering slightly as a cool breeze swept through the cavern, it really is better this way.

The one thing he'd come to realize after so many months undercover in different packs throughout Great Britain was that he really didn't belong – not in a pack like this one, and not in the pack he'd been clinging to since he was eleven. Neither one suited him, or rather, he suited neither one, because he was too civilized, too moral, yet ultimately, too dangerous; too much like an animal but not enough of one to survive in the wild.

The truth was he didn't know where he belonged. He only knew where he didn't. That realization made him feel more alone than he'd ever felt in his life. More alone than when his father died in an accident almost a year ago, more alone than when his mother followed, succumbing to cancer six months later. He was the last Lupin, and there would never be another – the curse running in his veins had staunched any hope within in that he would ever be in James' place. Yet, he still watched the young woman, her belly impossibly round, with a tiny spark of hope that she could defy the odds -- odds that every one of them in the cave, whether they wanted to admit it or not, carried with them like a heavy anchor round their necks. Odds that made it impossible to live when all they could feel within them was the compulsion to take life.

As Remus finally drifted off to sleep (despite the blood – curdling howls just outside the mouth of the cave) cold and utterly, desperately alone, he tried to find comfort in his situation – a silver lining in a very dark cloud. It was the little boy. The one he would give his life to protect, the one Lily would give birth to any day now – the one that Voldemort had already targeted, before his birth, to die.

June, 1994.

Despite the fact that Sophie was sitting her Transfiguration O.W.L., at a small single desk in the middle of the Great Hall (now converted into a large examination room), her hand did not move. Instead, she stared straight ahead, her eyes unfocused, her mind far away.

She couldn't concentrate on the pages before her, questions melding into one another so that nothing made any sense. Her head ached, her stomach hurt, and every joint and muscle tingled, her body having its own sense memory of the full moon. It was tonight, her transformation. Her body knew it and so did her mind, and much to her frustration, both were refusing to cooperate in any way.

Damn it, she thought as she tore her eyes away from the back of someone's head, Damn it – Concentrate! Trying to gather her mind, she snapped her quill in half without meaning to, and knocked over her half – empty bottle of ink, so that the barely scribbled on parchment below was now covered in the sticky black liquid.

"Shite!" she grumbled loudly, jumping up to avoid being soaked.

The examiner at the front of the room rushed over with a stern word and a scandalized look, flicked his wand and siphoned off the inky mess, then strode away. Sophie sat down, feeling curious eyes on her, to her nearly – empty sheet and tried to focus once more.

An hour later, she left the room feeling lower than she had in weeks. She hadn't been able to make any sense of the questions on the O.W.L. – questions she could normally answer in her sleep – and had wasted the hour away by dwelling on things she couldn't fix. The past week had been the worst yet, with the rumours of a grudge between Cates and herself making the rounds thanks to Peeves, and many people, friends included, wondering what was behind it. She had been avoiding Jimmy McGiffert ever since, as she was keen enough to know he'd been looking for her. She felt guilty about the confrontation, even though it wasn't her doing, and was sure that Jimmy had been made to pay when she noticed him limping down the corridor a few days later.

Sophie had just managed to sneak away from the throng of students leaving the Great Hall, unseen by the only mates still talking to her – the twins and Lee – and headed for Gryffindor Tower (to rest before her transformation later that night) when she felt a tap on the shoulder.

"What in Merlin is wrong with you?" a voice murmured.

She turned and looked into Jimmy's irate face. What's wrong with me? she thought, her mind stalling suddenly, what isn't?

"What do you mean?" she asked. She wished she'd been quicker out of the Great Hall, she didn't have the energy to deal with McGiffert at the moment.

He looked at her shrewdly, curiously, irritation in his eyes. "You look like hell," he answered, his voice softer than she would have expected. She could tell, despite his resentment towards her, he was concerned.

"Thanks," she said softly, the sarcasm in her voice surprising her a little. She didn't know she still had it in her.

"Why did you do it?" he asked suddenly. He looked around nervously, his eyes darting down the corridor then back again.

"I didn't mean to," she answered slowly, her energy waning as she sighed in frustration.

Jimmy looked into her eyes without blinking, then looked away once again, trying to make sure they weren't overheard.

"You bollixed everything, you know that?" he whispered.

"I'm sorry." She meant it, but at the same time she was annoyed that Jimmy was angry with her. She'd only tried to help him, after all.

He turned towards her suddenly and took a step closer, his face close to hers. Up close, she could hear his heart beating wildly, smell his slightly musky odour. It was too much for her heightened senses, and she felt her stomach lurch. Whatever angry words had been on the tip of his tongue disappeared as he examined her closely. "What's wrong with you?" he asked again, but this time she knew he meant something different.

All of a sudden, a violent wave of nausea hit her, and she doubled over and expelled her meager breakfast onto the stone floor. Jimmy jumped back but moved around behind her and let her lean on his arm. "You need Pomfrey," he stated, pulling her away from the sick and waving his wand to clean it up, "Come on, I'll take you."

Sophie didn't protest, instead let herself be led towards the hospital wing, silently thankful for his concern. She hadn't been sick like that in months and had almost forgotten how it felt. She wondered why the pre – moon phase of her transformation was hitting her so hard this month. It just didn't make any sense.

As they neared the double doors to the hospital wing, Jimmy, who had silently escorted her, finally spoke. "You should have stayed out of it," he said.

"I tried," she answered, her voice weak, "but Cates wouldn't let it alone."

"He's really angry."

"He's a bastard."

"Yeah, but he's a dangerous bastard," he stated, as they stopped beside the thick walnut doors. He steadied her and slowly let go. "Watch your back," he added.

Sophie heard his warning but didn't care much at the moment. She just wanted to lie down and sleep.

"You okay from here?" he asked, motioning towards the door with a nod.

"Yeah," she managed, pulling open the door with all the strength she could muster, "Thanks."

He nodded and walked away as Sophie walked through the door into the solace and safety of the hospital wing, her mind buzzing with Jimmy's words, the full meaning lost on her as she felt her body go limp and hit the floor.

8888888

Remus sat on the edge of a bed next to his daughter, his sore body propped up by three fluffy pillows taken from the empty beds on the other side of the curtained screen, watching her as she slept. It had been too long since he'd done so, ever since she turned eleven and insisted she didn't need to be tucked in anymore. She's so much more independent then I ever was, he thought as memories came back to him.

He was always more prone to melancholic reminisinces around the full moon, but he hadn't allowed himself to indulge in memories since last summer. It was just too much for him to think about Peter, Lily and James – their absence in his live, the emptiness in his heart, but his daughter… well, she was the exception. It always made him feel better to remember when she was a little girl, but lately, it had become difficult. He would let his mind wander to a specific memory – Sophie celebrating her first Christmas with him, her first day of school – and would end up trying to search it for any signs of the darkness within peaking out. Stop it, he scolded himself. He knew that kind of thinking was ridiculous, she was his daughter, not a stranger he didn't trust.

He focused on her once more, her breathing slow and steady, almost silent, so that she gave the impression of being deceased, and his body gave and involuntary shudder at the dreadful thought. She looked so peaceful, sweet and safe lying under the tartan coverlet, he wished she could stay there, safely tucked in, until Sirius was captured. He wished he could protect her from everything bad in the world, including that part of herself, but knew that even if he could she would never allow it. No, Sophie was more like her mother than he ever cared to admit and it was that part of her he tried not to see because it brought Eris to mind. That independence, intelligence and stubborn streak had been what he'd fallen in love with – or fancied himself in love with – and it had also been the thing he came to loathe. Sixteen years later, it was still hard for him to see it in his daughter.

"Daddy?"

Remus jumped up at the sound of Sophie's voice, feeling his body ache as he did. She was looking at him with sad eyes that instantly reminded him of that first night she came to live with him.

"What happened?" he asked, trying to push the thought away. He didn't want to dwell on the past.

"I don't know," she answered, "I just got suddenly weak."

"Have you been taking your potion?" He already knew the answer, as Snape had hinted more than once about it, but still had to ask.

"I can't."

"Why not?"

She looked away, up at the ceiling, enchanted to look like a clear, blue sky. "It's just…" she faltered, "it's just bad when I do."

He didn't ask her to explain. He knew the side effects of the potion well, and though he was willing to live with them, he understood why she wasn't. He leaned over her, pushing her hair off her forehead, his hand lingering on her brow. She felt a little warm. "You should stay here until it's time," he said, "Madame Pomfrey will escort you to The Room."

He half – expected her to protest, and was a little surprised when she nodded and eeked out an "okay".

"I'll be in my office, as usual," he continued, straightening. He needed to take of some things before the full moon. "I'll see you tomorrow."

Sophie looked like she had something to say but thought better of it. Instead, she nodded and closed her eyes, the potion for a dreamless sleep she'd been given just before he got there, working its magic once more.

He leaned over, bending as low as his stiff, aching body would let him, and planted a kiss on her hair, then left the room quietly, his mind turning to another child, not his own, but one he had vowed to watch over. The execution for the hippogriff was in a few hours, and though he wasn't well enough to lend Hagrid his support, he could still make sure that Harry and his mates stayed out of trouble by watching the map. That was exactly what he intended to do.

So, um, did you like? Let me know...

BTW, the title of the chapter is taken from the TV on the Radio song, a band I saw in concert a couple of years ago opening for Coldplay. Listen to the song, seriously, its wicked.

Coming Soon - chapter 22, in which Sirius is finally vindicated in his mate's eyes, Harry learns the truth, and Sophie steps in to change someone's fate... the twists begin...

See ya!