Author's Note: Enjoy!

Disclaimer: The following characters belong to J.K. Rowling, and this story derives from her original works, storylines, and world. Please do not sue me, I can barely pay tuition.

Hogwarts: Assignment #1, Zoology Task #3 Write a character performing one of the following actions. (Hiding in fear, Lashing out in anger, Seeking comfort with/in something or someone)

Warnings: NA

This week's AU: Royalty!AU

Hurt Animals Always Hide

Remus barely made it out of the war room, down the hall, and onto the balcony before the gasp of pain burst out of his lips. He clutched his wrist, pushing up the sleeve of his embroidered shirt, and looked down at his hand, barely believing his eyes. But sure enough, his hand… well, the flesh was red and irritated and it looked raw. It might as well have been a second degree burn. But really, all that Remus had done was accept the silver seal that his father had handed him in the meeting.

Remus leaned against the porch railing, resting his head against the cool metal and keeping his arm extended, hoping that the cool night air may soothe his burned hand. This couldn't be happening. This hell he was in, it… this couldn't be happening to him. It couldn't.

He heard the patio doors behind him open and immediately straightened up. He had been off the battlefield and home for so little time that he immediately reached for the sword at his side too, sending a servant girl in an auburn robe stumbling back. She dropped the front of her apron as she tripped back, and bird seeds scattered on the ground.

"Oh, pardon me," Remus said. "I wasn't expecting… are you authorized to be on this floor of the castle when it's the hour the war council meets?"

"The queen allows me, sir," the girl said, keeping her head lowered. She had stumbled from her clumsy shock to a deep bow. "She likes for me to feed the birds here, that way she can see them from her tower."

"Right," Remus said. This sounded like his mother. "Right, then, as you were."

He slid his sword back into its scabbard, and while the servant girl looked up to meet his eyes, she didn't move. Her hair was tucked into the bonnet that most of the castle's servants wore but her eyes were absolutely electrifying. Remus couldn't quite tell what colour they were—blue, green, hazel, brown, possibly all of the above—but he felt like she was seeing right through him before she even opened her mouth again.

"Is your hand quite alright, Prince Remus?" she asked. He fumbled with his cloak so that it would fall over his hand, covering the injury.

"Quite alright," he said. "If… if you could go about your business and leave, I would be most grateful."

"As you wish," she said.

The corner of the servant girl's lips twitched upwards. She looked almost… amused.

"Please," Remus said again. He straightened up and his cloak fell too harshly against his injured hand. He winced. "Please, go."

"Yes, sir," she said. She extended her hand and swirled it above the ground, whispering a word that may as well have been gibberish. Then, just like that, the seeds scattered on the ground rose into the air and raced into her dress pockets. Remus drew his sword.

"Stay where you are," Remus spat, pointing the sword towards her and closing the gap between them in a few quick steps. A magic user? So close to the queen, this whole time? He shuddered to think of the damage she could have done to his poor mother…

"As you wish," she repeated.

Remus looked around, past the girl and through the glass doors into the hall. His father had grown paranoid after years of warfare; there were no guards and no palace staff allowed on this floor of the castle when the war council was in session. Even his mother had been dismissed in no uncertain words one day, before Greyback's Army had last attacked. His own men—James and Peter and Sirius—were always up for causing trouble around the palace, but even they knew better than to break this particular order of King Lyall's.

The girl smiled more, still amused which was nearly more infuriating.

"If you call the palace guards and report a witch, I do believe I too will have something interesting to report to them as well, my lord," the servant girl said.

Remus paled.

"What do you..?" he trailed off when he registered just how bright and quick the light in her eyes was. He settled on a different question. "How?"

"That burn on your hand looks incredibly painful," she said. "Only silver on a werewolf's skin would burn so."

"Hush," Remus hissed, shushing her. He looked around again but they were just alone as they had been before. Now, he lowered his sword.

"There have been whispers amongst the palace servants that you have returned from the last battle changed," the girl said. "And not in the way that war usually changes its survivors. You're quite liked by palace staff, you know. They worry about you and to us there's no real difference between gossipping and worrying."

"Yes, well… well you won't say a word to anyone and I won't say a word to anyone either," Remus told her.

"Of course," she said.

He didn't know if he believed her but he took a deep breath, trying to calm himself. Trying to bat away the fear in his chest, even if it had taken hold and stayed put ever since he'd returned from the front. He knew that different animals showed their pain in different ways. Lone animals like felines hid their fear to avoid showing weakness. Pack animals like dogs showed their fear so that other members of their pack would help them as they healed. Remus didn't know what to do with the bite where the werewolf had clamped down on his shoulder. He was surrounded by the same family and palace advisors and soldiers he had always known, yes, but he was so very alone. King Lyall Lupin had spent years at war with the Greyback Nation, so long in fact that Remus had been born a decade after the last peace had been known in the kingdom. What would he do with a son and an heir wrapped in the same curse that he had so long fought? There was no easy answer to this question and he couldn't help but notice that tonight the moon hung in the sky nearly full.

"I can heal your hand if you'd like," the witch offered.

Remus stumbled back.

"Magic is not permitted in the kingdom," he blabbered. "It was outlawed by Salman Lupin in 1754, and His Majesty King Lyall made it punishable by…"

"Punishable by nothing that a starving and suffering peasantry wouldn't risk its benefits for," the servant girl said, clucking her tongue. "You better have a rather good cover story for that burn and exactly where you got it and why it will take so long for it to heal, if you don't want my help."

Remus ran a quick calculation of the risks and benefits in his head. He, as a matter of fact, was a terrible liar—which was indeed making this whole situation that much more frightening.

"I want it," he said quietly, resigned. If he was to harbour a witch's secret in order to hide his own, then he may as well get all the benefits he could reap from their treacherous arrangement.

"Well, give me your hand, then," she said. She offered him his own expectantly. There was dirt under her nails and calluses on her fingers from hours of work.

Remus handed her his injured hand and winced, even if she was only touching the parts of it that weren't injured.

"You're in a bad state," she said sympathetically. She reached into her pocket and pulled out a small vial whose cork lid she removed with her teeth. Dried herbs sprinkled out, falling across the wound and the skin surrounding it. She reached into her pocket again and, impossibly since she shouldn't have had that much room there, she produced a bandage that she wrapped his hand with as she whispered calm, soothing words that Remus didn't understand.

"Keep it bandaged for one night and one day," she said. "I'll change the dressing tomorrow, but I got to it fast enough. I wouldn't wager on this healing taking more than a week."

"Less than a week?" Remus asked, somewhat surprised. He imagined how much better his father's army would fare if their own doctors were such good healers. If they could nip infections before they spread, if they could use herbs from the land instead of expensive tinctures that were so harshly rationed, if they could tend to wounds before they worsened…

"You might call it magic," she said with a grin. Then her grin faded as she worked on tightening the bandage around his hand. "Although this is very basic, one of the first teachings I was given. If you like, I can teach you."

"Magic?" Remus scoffed. "Me? I'm not a witch."

"You'd be surprised how many people have magic inside them that they don't know about," she said. She tucked the end of the bandage into one of its many wraps, keeping it secure. "Besides, it might be useful for you to know how to tend to your own wounds. Not to mention that there's other magic out there—magic for hiding secrets…"

"I…" Remus stopped himself once he realized how foolish the words he was about to say sounded. I do not want to lie. Of course he did. He was a werewolf in a kingdom that hunted werewolves. Of course he did.

"Think about it," she said, gently running her fingertips across his palm before letting go of his hand.

Inside the palace, the door of the war room opened. The council had finished their meeting.

"You need to go before my father sees you," Remus said, spinning back towards the girl. She had vanished, and Remus didn't even know her name.

Shipping Wars

Word count: 3602

Ship (Team): Remus Lupin/Nymphadora Tonks (Technicolour Moon)

List (Prompt): Summer Medium 2 (Yelling/Shouting)