There was a sharp, persistent rapping on the door of the prefects' office. It was almost curfew and the rest of the prefects were patrolling while Remus Lupin who, everyone had agreed, was looking awfully peaky this evening, had been left to mind the office.

He went to the door, his pallid complexion was suddenly florid when he found Narcissa Black waiting on the other side. He squared his shoulders, trying to sound authoritative. "Curfew is in five minutes, Black. You shouldn't be here so late."

Her arms were folded across her middle, her head cocked to one side, provoking him. "I need to report an incident of violence between two students. I witnessed it personally this morning."

Remus gave a long sigh, retreating to sit heavily behind the desk. Resigned to dealing with whatever she was up to, he drew the pad of blank incident report parchments toward himself. "Right. It was this morning?"

"Yes, as breakfast was ending. You see, I was oddly ravenous this morning - "

"Where did it happen?"

"In the Entrance Hall."

"And could you identify the students involved?"

"Of course. They were both my cousins."

Remus let his quill drop on the paper. "What are you playing at, Black?"

She raised her eyebrows, fighting back a smirk. "Nothing. I came here looking for reassurance that my young cousin Regulus wouldn't be bullied at school by this brother any longer, and I fully expect someone in your position to launch a fair, unbiased investigation."

Remus sat back, rubbing his eyes with his palms. "No, you didn't come here expecting that at all."

She planted her hands on the desktop and leaned over it. "Investigate it, Lupin. Keep questioning me. Wouldn't you like to know why the entire Hogwarts Black family was rowing in public today? Haven't you heard it from Sirius?"

"No," he said. "If Regulus wants to make a complaint himself then - "

She hit the desktop with one hand. "No. You need to know that Sirius came looking for me this morning, seeking me out to order me - to threaten me - that I must never speak to you again."

"Seeking? Ordering?"

"Threatening," she finished. "Yes, your best friend told me that if I ever speak to you again, he'll explode my future by telling the Malfoys I've been consorting with a werewolf."

"Consorting?" Remus echoed. "That makes it sound like we - but we didn't do anything - we hardly - "

"Oh please, Lupin," she said, sitting on a corner of the desk. "I couldn't bring myself to think of it that way at first either. But the fact is you grabbed me and licked my arm and carried me through the woods while I held onto your shoulder with my teeth. Not to mention you weren't wearing any clothes the entire time."

"Will you please, stop," he said, throwing himself against the back of his chair, kneading his shoulder.

"Ah, so you remember what happened now, do you?" She stood up, moving behind the desk, next to him. "How's that shoulder? Is there a mark?"

With another massive sigh, Remus loosened his tie, unbuttoned his collar, and tugged it aside to look at the place where the Veela had gripped Moony with her teeth. He wasn't expecting what he saw and swore at the sight. "What did you do to me?"

She flew at him, standing directly in front of him, between his knees behind the desk, pushing his hand aside, pulling at his collar as he uttered strangled nonverbal protests. His skin was marked with a purple bruise and within it, two small punctures.

She hissed. "I was worried it might be like this. I'm sorry. Honestly, I didn't mean to break the skin with those fangs. But I'm still not used to them, and you were moving about so quickly, and forcefully, and wildly."

"I said, stop talking about it."

"Hold your collar out of the way, like that," she said, reaching into her robes. "I've got something with me, a balm to keep it from scarring. I didn't mean to maim you, and stars know I never want anyone identifying my teeth marks in your skin." She twisted a stopper from a small, flat canister and scooped a dollop of thick, creamy violet paste onto her fingertips. "Now sit still, Lupin. It won't hurt."

It didn't hurt, but the balm was cold, and he shivered as she touched it to his overly warm bare skin. He glanced sideways at her as she worked. "What is it, exactly?" he asked.

"Nothing much," she answered. "Complexion Perfexion is what it's called. If you had more witches in your life, you'd already know about it." She dabbed it lightly onto his shoulder at first, then her touch changed. She worked it into his skin with firmer pressure, the pads of her fingers pressed hard against the tender tissue beneath. His shoulders were thinner than Moony's, but still ropey with lean muscle, tense as she worked them. She cleared her throat.

Remus bit his lip. He had turned his face as far from her hand as he could, eyes shut tight. Even so, his fingertips pricked with an urge to grab her, his throat ached around a silent howl. He checked his hand, flexing his fingers. No extra hair growth, no fingernails lengthening into claws. He wasn't transforming, but he felt Moony all the same, close, alive inside him, reaching out to her whether she looked like a Veela at the moment or not. The beginnings of a sound rumbled in his throat, but he mastered it, forcing it into words.

"That should do it," he said.

She was withdrawing her hand, but moving slowly, curving her fingers over the taut tendons in his neck, a light touch trailing through the hollow between his collarbones, where his pulse beat hard and fast in his throat.

"You know," she said, her own heart drumming as she lifted her hand, her eyes so blue they were icy white. "Maybe it's not too late to try this balm on some of your other scars. What could it hurt?"

Her fingers were drifting up, toward the marks on his face when Remus caught them and folded his hand around hers.

She interrupted as he began to speak. "Did you send him? Was it really you who sent Sirius to tell me never to speak to you again?"

She sounded almost hurt. There was a slight tremor in Remus's otherwise strong jaw, his thumb passing over Lucius Malfoy's engagement ring as he lowered their joined hands and let hers go. "Sirius may have been brutal to Regulus today, and rude to you, and out of line to speak for me without asking. I'm sorry for all of that. But he wasn't wrong. You and I need to leave each other alone from now on."

"That won't do," Narcissa said, folding her arms and straightening her posture with an air of simple finality. "There's more I need to know from you. You're the only one who's ever seen my Veela form. We know you can see me when you're transformed. But what if you're not transformed? Can you still see me if you're not Moony but Lupin?"

"Look, I'm sorry," he said, re-buttoning his collar and straightening his tie. "I can't help you with this. Think of it. What if your transformation triggers my own? What if you were to transform right now and all the sudden we had Moony loose in the castle? I'd wind up killing someone, and ultimately, being killed myself to put an end to the rampage."

She took a deep breath, and sank back to sit on the desk in front of him. "There must be some way for us to do it safely, responsibly. That house Moony brought me to - could we do it there?"

"No," he said, his hands on her upper arms, hoisting her off the desk and onto her feet. "This is the end of it. You know you are indeed a Veela, and now you can find your peace with it and carry on."

"My peace with it?" she said as he pushed her shoulders from behind, walking her toward the door, showing her out. "What about Moony's peace with it?"

"Moony is completely uninterested in peace, and in you."

"Is he?" she said as Remus reached past her for the doorknob. "Sirius told me Moony is mad for me."

The words left Remus's hand hanging in mid-air, partway to the doorknob.

"He didn't mean to say it," she resumed. "I'm not sure even now that Sirius realizes he did say it. But he certainly did. Do you deny it?"

Remus's hand was rattling the doorknob as he tried to twist it open. "Moony is a lunatic. He's mad for everything."

"Lupin," she said, speaking to him over her shoulder as he reached around her, closing her hand over his on the doorknob, stopping his shaking. "I will tell you this, and then I'll go. I want Moony to know that I know he likes me. And that - I'm - fascinated by it."

Remus's face was white, his scars standing out more than ever. He shook his head. "Don't look for him again. I won't let him out into the woods. I'll keep him locked in that house next full-moon - every full-moon until school is over and you're safe in Malfoy Manor."

"Then I'll go to that house by Floo and find him myself," she said, still gripping his hand.

"It's an exit-only Floo. You won't get in. Forget it, Narcissa."

She turned around, her face in his as he bent over her to open the door. They were close again, not the way they'd been the night before, but in something reminiscent of it, close enough that her voice fell to a husky whisper as she promised him, "He won't hurt me."

They stood still for a moment, eye to eye, near enough to feel the rush of each other's breath. Remus's eyes moved over her face, her eyes, the mouth that looked far too delicate to have marked him. He made one last lunge forward, twisting hard to the doorknob behind her, the latch clicking free. Her mouth had opened as he moved, in surprise, perhaps, or to speak, or for something else entirely.

"This," he said pushing the door open, "is what too few people understand about Moony. Yes, he must be kept from hurting other people. But what his friends are most afraid of him hurting is himself. Anyone who doesn't understand that is no friend of his."

Hands on her shoulders again, he spun her around and shoved her into the corridor outside, alone.

The snow was nearly gone as the seventh year Care of Magical Creatures class made its way to the edge of the forest. Peter was eager to shake off the lads in favour of Alice Fortescue for the next hour. It had been an odd weekend with James gone away for most of it, at home planning a wedding with Lily and his frail old parents, while Sirius and Remus had handled each other with a strained coolness Peter didn't understand.

"A camera," James was saying to Remus. "One that makes Muggle pictures we can give to Lily's parents. We need to borrow one for the wedding day. Does she have one? Your Mum?"

"She should. That must have been how they got baby pictures of me to send to my Gran," Remus said, glancing over his shoulder again.

Sirius laughed. "Oh, come off it, Remus," he said. "You don't expect us to believe you were ever a baby. Not you."

Remus did not return the laugh. "I was, actually. It may surprise some people to know, but I have all the same feelings and desires as anyone else."

"Right. What is going on between the pair of you?" Peter demanded. "Whatever it is, I can't bear another round of it. When I get back, you'd better be back to normal." With that, he set off to join Alice.

James frowned, confused. "What's he on about? Did something happen while I was off with Lily?"

"No," Remus said.

But at the same time, Sirius said, "When I met Narcissa to return her cloak, I told her to leave Remus alone. And he's not too keen on that, apparently."

"What I'm not too keen on," Remus said, hissing, whispering to keep the rest of the class from hearing, "is you laying down the law about what and I can do and with whom without consulting me. Just because I'm - you know - it doesn't mean you can treat me like a pet."

Sirius was shaking his head. "Padfoot's having none of your treated-like-a-pet talk. Certainly not from the person who scratches his ears more than anyone else. And I have no regrets about scaring off Narcissa. None at all. I'll tell her the same again if she tries to partner up with you today."

Remus groaned and turned in a circle.

"No, you need guidance," Sirius maintained. "And protection. You've got no experience with girls, let alone the fearsome Black family girls. No, you've got no idea what crazy, irrational things girls can get us to do."

"There you go again. Treating me like a mindless animal. Girls making us crazy - nonsense. James, say something."

James raised his eyebrows. "I just got engaged while eighteen and still in school. I may not be the best person to ask."

They fell quiet as Grubbly-Plank started class by expressing her disappointment in everyone for the mass exposure to Hodag powder. "So as penance, as a service to the school, and to guarantee at least one class with no disasters, for today we will embark on a labour with no risk at all - hardly any. The fifth years let all but three of our Bowtruckles escape into these woods, and they need to be retrieved. By you. This afternoon. So partner up and get to work."

"It's on, mates. Here she comes," James said, watching over Sirius's shoulder as Narcissa approached, coming to claim a partner.

"Right," Sirius said, spinning toward her instead of away from her this time. "Come on, coz. Let's make gathering Bowtruckles a family affair."

Narcissa wouldn't look at him. "Not today," she said. "If you recall, I'm with Lupin."

"Fine," Sirius said, hauling on James's arm. "You don't want me? Have Potter."

"Potter." She had a way of saying his name that made it sound like she was swearing. "No thank you. And don't bother threatening me with disgrace, Sirius. This is a public setting. Completely," she said, smiling up at Remus, "completely innocent."

Sirius scoffed. "Tell it to someone else."

"Look," James interrupted. "There's no need for you two to fight over him. Just tell her no, Remus. That'll be the end of it."

Narcissa had yet to take her eyes from Remus, her head cocked to one side now, as if she was sweet when truly she was daring him to try to send her away.

He hadn't seen her all weekend, not since he'd barely kept himself from devouring her against the door of the prefects' office. Maybe it was the sunlight diffused through the haze in the cold air and dappled through the leafless trees, but she was prettier than he remembered. Not that it mattered. Her force was magnetic, pulling at him with an attraction beyond what she looked like. He couldn't be alone with her, but she was right about this being a public setting. Here in the sunshine, nowhere near a full moon, Moony was unreachable. It was the best place, the only place Remus could risk being near her.

And Sirius deserved to be put in his place.

"Actually," Remus said. "I will exercise my power to choose for myself, as an adult, and I say we all stay with the partners we had last class. Happy Bowtruckle hunting, lads."

Narcissa smirked over her shoulder at Sirius as she followed Remus into the trees. "Well, isn't this nice?" she said. "In the forest together again."

Remus said nothing, trudging ahead of her, past the thickets where pairs of students were already searching for Bowtruckles, little magical creatures who looked almost exactly like broken, leafless tree branches, which was what everything looked like in February.

"Wait up, Lupin. Grubbly-Plank said to find Bowtruckles, not Centaurs," Narcissa called after him. "I've never been this deep in the forest untransformed."

"Will you be quiet about transformation?" he said, stopping so she could catch up to a distance where they could talk quietly. "Anyone could hear you."

"Why would that matter to you? I'm only speaking for myself," she said. She stopped partway down a slope, amused to find it brought them to the same height. "I can transform into a creature. I may as well shout it. No one believes me but you."

He looked into her face. "Is it possible for you to stop baiting and tormenting me for a little while? Can we please just fill this time being normal?"

"This is normal for us."

"Well, I don't want this to be normal," he blurted. "If you can't be natural then talk to me like - like I'm interviewing you for a newspaper."

She laughed. "That is definitely not natural."

"Isn't it though?" he asked. "Your kind is always on the society page, giving insipid answers to banal questions."

She rolled her eyes and edged sideways down the slope. "Please. All they ever want to know about is my engagement."

"Fine," Remus began, leading out again. "What kind of stone is in your engagement ring?"

"Opal." She said, holding her hand out, as if she expected Remus to look at it.

He didn't look, attending instead to the cracking pile of twigs he was sifting through. "Opal? Are you mad? Is there a stone that's more frequently cursed than that?"

She breathed a laugh through her nose. "So cursed, so pretty. Precisely what makes it a perfect tribute to my union with Malfoy."

Remus kept up his interview. "When's the wedding? Four or five years from now?"

"This September," she said. "September second. The day after my nineteenth birthday. Almost exactly a year since we struck the agreement. Struck the agreement - doesn't that sound romantic? Our fathers signing prenuptial contracts in the study before signaling to Malfoy to take me out on the terrace and propose in the moonlight."

"Things can't be that bad between you," Remus said, stooped to the ground now, pushing low, dirty branches aside to look for Bowtruckles. "The pair of you look like a matched set."

She scoffed. "Everyone says that, but all they mean is the hair."

He glanced up from the thicket. "No, it's more than that."

"It is," she admitted. "There is a tolerable compatibility between us. At least he's tall. I like tall. And kissing him isn't as repulsive as I had feared."

Remus meant to answer with a disinterested hum but it came out as more of a growl.

She went on. "Well, in looking alike, I suppose we can presume to know what my Malfoy children will look like. Can you imagine? Gorgeous little monsters."

"Half-monsters," he corrected.

She dropped to squat beside him. "Remus Lupin, did you just make a joke about my being a creature? A joke about something so serious? Right to my face? You?"

He pivoted on his heels to face her. "See, you hardly know me. The lads and I are silly with werewolf jokes. If you and I were anything like real friends, you'd know that."

She scoffed. "I don't have to be a friend of yours to know you better than just about anybody. I know all of you. How many people can say that? Those three best mates of yours, and I would assume your parents. Who else?"

He stood up. "This my interview. You don't get to ask questions."

"Well, I am going to ask one anyway. An insipid one. What's your favourite class at school?" she said, rising to her feet again.

He laughed. "What are you, eleven years old?"

"Just answer."

"Defense Against the Dark Arts," he said without any more hesitation.

"Interesting. That's mine as well."

He was scoffing now. "Really? Well, look at us. How's that for irony?"

She frowned. "I don't follow."

He looked up at her, one eye closed, squinting in the sunlight coming from behind her. "You sitting in DADA class every day, eating it up, bold as brass wearing your Death Eater's opal ring."

She moved to where her shadow shielded his eyes from the glare of the sun. "Ah, you mean that because of what we are, you, a werewolf and me, Malfoy's dear one, that class is not for us. Well, I disagree. I say people like us appreciate that class most of all."

"No, we agree completely," he said, his brow smooth, his eyes wide and dark in her shadow. "It's ironic, not wrong. If I could work anywhere, I'd teach the subject here someday. Explaining to kids about the dark magic all around us, all through us, but without so much hate and fear of it." The twig in his grip snapped as he handled it. "Though that's not likely to happen."

Above his head, he heard her sigh. "I'm not studying defense as a possible profession either," she said. "The DADA skill I'm best at isn't even taught in school. Father's been supplementing our training at home for years. Mine and Bella's and Severus's too, since our sister Andromeda left."

His shoulders twitched. "Severus? He's taking private DADA lessons with the House of Black?"

"In Occlumency. Yes, we all are," Narcissa said. "Father says it will help us if we're ever called upon for reconnaissance."

"Spying?"

"What have you, I don't care about any of the politics," she said. "My concern is personal. It's about being able to live without fear but with Death Eaters coming and going from under my roof at Malfoy Manor. If I can't close my mind to them, I'll never have any peace. Occlumency is not an easy skill, but I'm quite good at it. A natural sneak, two-faced. Ready to fake my way through a sham of a happy marriage."

It was then that it struck him - her frustration, her grief, how awful it was, how scared and hopeless she must be when she thought of her future. He rose to standing, his face suddenly in her space. "Narcissa, that's - "

"A blessing in disguise," she finished, not backing away. "Mastering Occlumency means whatever my Veela gets up to, Malfoy will never have to know." She was pretending to be flippant, falling back on teasing, on flirting with him when they came too near what hurt her.

Remus wouldn't let her deflect it, his tone staying grave and quiet. "If it's like that, don't marry him. There must be some way - "

"There isn't," she said. "My Veela is real. Lucius can't see her. When I tried to talk to my father about finding someone who could, he wouldn't even let me finish explaining. He said the Dark Lord himself had sent the Malfoys to us to propose an arrangement, years ago. It was never truly negotiable."

"Riddle's behind your betrothal?" Remus said. "Stars, Black. What more do you need to know to be able to tell it will never make you happy? Riddle gets a lot of things done for a lot of people, but making them happy is never one of them."

She was shaking her head, backing away from him until a tree trunk at her back stopped her. "No, there's no point in arguing. Bella's in on it too somehow. And no one ever says no to Bella. Certainly not our father."

Lupin scrubbed his face with his hands. "I honestly don't see how your marriage can be any of these people's business."

"How can it not be?" she said, pushing herself off the tree trunk to face him again. "Marriages are massive family affairs. Always. And this one is like a train on rails. No, my engagement to Malfoy can't be rerouted."

"But that can't - "

All at once she was shushing him, gripping both of his arms, her head bowed. "Don't move."

"What?"

"Bowtruckle."

"Where?"

"It's in my hair. I can feel it creeping around." She shuddered. Her voice sounded calm but she said, "I am about to scream. I am going to lose my mind if you don't get it out for me. Now. Lupin, help - "

"It's alright. You're alright," he said, twisting out of her hold and making a slow, sideways step behind her. "It must have been on that tree."

"Hurry."

"I am. Keep still." Remus could see nothing in the thick sheaf of platinum hair falling down Narcissa's back. Carefully, he closed his hands around it, feeling through its silky lengths for the thing clambering inside it. "I can't see it, so it can't be very big," he said, meaning to reassure her.

She jumped. "You can't see it? It's still there. I can feel it. I swear - oh, get it out!"

He hushed her, a stuttering, almost whistling sound like he'd use to signal for Padfoot to behave. Her shoulders were heaving and trembling as she held her panic back. Remus lifted her hair to inspect the bottom layer of it. There it was, a long, thin, light coloured Bowtruckle, like a stick insect only oversized and inclined to claw people's eyes out when perturbed.

"Here we are," Remus said, crooning, gentle.

"Get it, get it," she whispered, fumbling to open the bag Professor Grubbly-Plank had distributed to collect the creatures.

With delicate fingers, Remus untangled Narcissa's hair from the Bowtruckles hooked hands. "There we have it," he said, reaching around her to drop the creature into the bag.

She let out her breath as she clamped it closed. "Thank the stars."

He laughed at her softly, almost affectionately as he let her hair down, easing into place against her neck. At the moment, she didn't look like the luminous, shining Veela his senses knew. Yet still, before he took conscious thought of it, the edge of one of his fingers had indulged in grazing the fine skin of her neck as he released her hair.

She spun around, catching his hand, capturing it against her neck, keeping it half hidden in her hair. "Don't mistake me for someone scared of creatures," she explained. "I just can't abide anything alive in my hair."

"Alright then," he said, pulling at the hand she held.

"Wait," she said. "Leave it one more moment. Don't you feel my pulse? It calms me down. Touching. Having you touch me."

His hand burned in her hold, his arm tensing as if to pull her close and run away with her again. Remus's throat was dry, difficult to speak through. "Calming? I'm afraid your touch has quite the opposite effect on me."

This was it, the remark that succeeded, at long last, in drawing a blush from her. She let Remus's fingers slide out of hers. But he'd already felt her pulse in her throat surge against his palm as he'd spoken. It tuned him in to her heartbeat, so strong he thought could hear it, faint in Moony's wolf ears even after she let him go.

The bag in her other hand twisted in her grip, the Bowtruckle eager to escape. She pointed behind herself, in the direction of Professor Grubbly-Plank and a line of classmates. "I'll turn this in, shall I?"

"Right," he said. He stooped to the ground again, going through the motions of looking for another Bowtruckle. It was too late for that. Class was almost over, and even if it wasn't, how could Narcissa come back to work with him now, facing him again after he'd said - whatever mad thing he'd just said?

Once she had a respectable head start, he stood up to walk back, watching her hair swing against her back as she moved ahead of him.

That night, Remus was in Cardiff fetching his mother's Muggle camera for James's wedding. She sat next to him on the sofa, patiently explaining how to use the contraption as he nodded and looked very worried about the whole thing.

"And when you're finished - this is very important, Remus. You could ruin everything if you open - " she stopped mid-sentence. "You know what, just bring it back to me when you're finished. But that means you can take only twenty-four pictures. Mind the counter on the back, and be careful. Especially if what you're photographing is something important. Is it?"

Remus heaved his huge sigh, the one he learned from his father.

"It is important," Hope concluded.

Remus Lupin was never anything but forthcoming with his mother, and as always, he told her everything. "It is. James is getting married."

'What? At eighteen? And still in school?"

"Yes, Mum. There's a bad movement afoot in the magical world - "

"So I've heard."

"Yes, and James's contribution to stopping it is to marry his soulmate."

Hope clucked her tongue. "We should all be so lucky. But how does that help? I don't understand."

"I'm not sure, Mum. It's Professor Dumbledore's idea," Remus said, his long fingers enfolding the camera, getting a feel for its weight and balance . "So it can't be too far off."

She clucked again. "Honestly, the trust you people put in that character. I don't always understand it. And why do wizards all want to get married so young? Why, James will probably be a father by the time he's twenty."

"You're one to talk," Remus smirked. "You and Dad had a quick engagement, and me right away."

She shifted in her seat on the sofa next to him. "That was different. That was your father. He's - "

"Just like the rest of us," Remus finished, laughing gently at her.

She batted at his arm. "The rest of them except for my son, the werewolf monk, forsworn to a life of study and chastity."

Anyone else might have missed it, but a tiny wince flitted over Remus's expression as she teased him. She was suddenly serious. "Unless I'm much mistaken, that is." She paused, giving him time to protest. When he didn't she poked a finger into his side. "What's happened, Remus?"

"Hardly anything, Mum."

"That's not nothing," she pounced. "And I was joking, of course, about you spending your life alone. For years I've been thinking you and Sirius - he can handle you at your worst, and as for the social stigma of two men - well, it's a controversial lifestyle, but more accepted than ever right now."

"Mum, please," he said, his head in his hands.

She sat back, waiting. "You can tell me, darling. You'd better tell me."

He began, still slumped forward, his elbows on his knees. He set the camera on the coffee table. "I do adore Sirius. No one's a greater comfort to me. And I've had the thought of us together too, as a long shot. But then - " His head sank into his hands.

Hope sat closer, linking her arm through his, still waiting.

"Mum, there's a girl," he confessed. "And what I feel for her, with just a look or a word from her - I didn't know that kind of thing existed. I wish I still didn't know."

"Darling, darling," Hope was saying. "This isn't sad. This is wonderful. You've had an awakening, just as I thought none was ever coming."

"I don't want it, Mum. I wanted to live alone, cuddle with my animagus best friend once in a while, and count my life as successful if I was able to get through it without ever eating anyone alive."

She let him talk, patting his back as if to help him get it all out.

"And then this girl at school, Sirius's estranged cousin who I've known for ages, one day she tells me she has creature magic too and from there - " He stopped to rake his hands through his hair. "She's seen me transformed, Mum. And I didn't hurt her. My werewolf - he'd never hurt her. He liked her before I did. And how could we not like her? She's smart and witty and interesting and tragic and - stars, Mum, she's so beautiful I can hardly look directly at her."

Hope rested her chin on his shoulder. "Of course she is, darling. What is the problem? Does she not like you?"

He sat up. "I think she might. She definitely likes Moony, at any rate."

"Stop," Hope said. "You've got to stop talking as if there are two of you. Moony - don't say that name. I've always said, the best hope you have for overcoming this curse, or whatever it is, is to find a place where you can meet the werewolf and learn to control him, become one with him, master of his violence and urges. Everything your world does to try to manage this condition involves separating the two sides of you, moving them farther and farther apart. No one listens to a mere Muggle, but as your mother I'm entitled to some inspiration, and I've always felt you need to run into the werewolf, not away from him. And if this cousin of Sirius's - "

"Stop, Mum," Remus moaned. "I can't."

"Why not?"

"Because she's engaged, alright?" he said, nearly shouting. "She's from an old, evil, aristocratic family that's already signed her over to someone else. It will be an arranged marriage to a man she doesn't trust. If she leaves, they'll disinherit her, or worse. And she'll be left with nothing but me, corrupt and listed on the werewolf registry, educated but unable to make a living, dragging her down to my level, and ruining her."

Hope sat back, wiping her eyes, determined not to let him sense her tears. "You don't get to decide what this woman does with her future, Remus John Lupin," she said. "I can't tell you what to do with yours either. But don't treat this girl like her father has. Whatever has been happening between you, let it finish happening. Let her decide if she'll love you. Be your beautiful self, all of your selves, and let yourself wait for her, if that's what you want."

As he came back to the school, after a cup of tea and an uneventful chat with his late-arriving Dad, Remus wasn't sure if he felt any better. He felt different - raw, needing something, but he wasn't sure what. Whatever it was, it wasn't in the Gryffindor common room where James sat in an armchair, nose to nose with Lily, and Peter sat at a chess board, sulking over his remaining pieces as Frank Longbottom enjoyed some astounding beginner's luck.

"Winning already? Why is it always you, Longbottom?" someone observed as he took Peter's last rook.

Remus didn't have the nerves for any of it and made for the stairs to their room. He opened the door, and there, stretching on the rug, just getting up as if he'd been listening for Remus's footfalls was Padfoot.

Remus sunk to his knees on the rug, to the dog's eye-level. "They say you're James's best friend. And they may be right, but you're mine too." He took the dog's face in his hands, scratching the underside of his chin as he leaned his forehead against the ridge over Padfoot's eyes. "You're mine more. And I know you do every mad, obnoxious thing you do because you love me. Whether you're right or wrong, you love me."

Padfoot seldom did it, but his pink tongue flicked out from between his jaws and swept across Remus's cheek. Remus wiped his face dry and hugged Padfoot around the neck. "Yes, there's a good lad."