Chapter 125: June 1998

"Everyone you meet knows something you don't know but need to know. Learn from them."

-C.G. Jung

The air in the cave was dank and foul; smelling bitter of blood and smoke. Remus blinked his eyes open, coughing a bit as he pulled himself into a sitting position. His naked body was covered in grime and he was sweating, despite the cool stone beneath him.

The stirring of the others around him reminded him that he was not alone. He looked around, squinting into the darkness. Dozens of bodies laid twisted together in heaps of flesh and limbs. They were all as bare as he was, covered with scars and bruises. A few were bleeding, some crying quietly to themselves as they waited for their lycanthropic magic to heal their broken bones and torn tendons. Some were already up, moving around, stoking the fire and doling out potions to those who had taken the worst of it, this transformation.

Remus had survived.

That was a good sign, he thought. He must have proved himself to be trustworthy enough to not slaughter upon transforming. He did a basic inventory—wiggling his toes and fingers, rolling his ankles and wrists, twisting around to make sure his ribs were all in place. He winced, his hand moving to his side to feel the warm wet of fresh blood from a bite on his waist. That was rather unfortunate. Bites always took longer to heal.

He pulled himself up and stepped toward the fire on shaky legs. His robes were the cleanest of the clothes hanging on the line, which spoke multitudes about the state this pack was in. He slipped them on and fished out a few phials of healing potion from his pocket. He was glad to find Hermione had left a decent stock of potions in the cabinets, and though the full moon last month had proven that their age had weakened them, it was better than nothing.

A moan of pain came from the far, dark corner of the cavern—a corner he would have avoided had it not been for the sound. Remus shuffled over, his eyes finally adjusting to the lack of light. He could make out a body on the ground, a small heap of a person curled in on themselves.

He knelt down, brushing a hand over their shoulder, "Are you injured?"

A sob of pain answered, followed by a weak nod.

"Here, take this," Remus offered the phial.

Slowly, thin limbs straightened and Remus could make out the outline of a female figure. She was skinny, incredibly malnourished, with small breasts and ribs that visibly jutted out beneath them. Her legs and arms were long, her wrists, knees, and ankles knobby from how tight her flesh was pulled around them. Remus pulled off his outer layer, laying it over her to offer a bit of modesty. He knelt back down, wedging his hand between her shoulders and helped her move into a sitting position.

"What is it?" she croaked, her voice raspy and harsh from the night before.

"A healing solution," Remus answered. "Muscle strengthener, Skele-Gro, a bit of blood replenisher, I think."

She took the phial, eyeing it cautiously. "You think? You didn't make this?"

Remus shook his head, "I'm horrible with potions. My...my friend made it. It's a bit old, so I'm not sure it's as strong as it should be. But, it's worth a shot."

"You're not sure…?" She coughed out a laugh and shook her head, "No offence, mate. But, I'm not taking anything that you haven't tried yourself."

Remus fiddled with the pocket of his robe where it rested on her stomach and produced another identical phial. He popped the cork off and downed it one swift swig. He knew pants all about the shelf life of potions, but he trusted Hermione. He didn't think she'd brew anything that could become poisonous after it expired and the ones he'd taken last month seemed fine. And, if for some reason these ones weren't…well, he'd get to see James, Lily and Sirius that much sooner, then.

Within seconds, he felt his body begin to warm. The bite on his side stopped bleeding, though it wouldn't heal completely. He felt his bones ache all at once, a sharp, stabbing pain as the Skele-Gro began to take effect. He breathed through the jolt to his system, grimacing a bit.

"It's working," he said.

Her eyes narrowed sceptically. "I'll wait a few minutes to see if you drop dead first."

Remus shrugged lightly, taking a seat and leaning his back against the cave wall, his knees drawn up toward his chest. "Suit yourself."

They sat in silence for a long time. Nothing but the sounds of others moaning in pain as they healed and moved about the cave to disrupt the quiet. Remus watched as his robe began to darken where it was draped across her middle, soaking up blood from a gash.

"That's going to get infected if you don't treat it," he said, finally. Nodding toward her torso.

"It's not like I've never had an infection before," she answered, pulling the cork from the phial and placing it to her lips. She tipped it up, taking it all in one gulp before coughing and making a gagging sound. "That's foul!"

Remus chuckled, running a hand through his hair. "Well, it's a healing potion. It's not really meant for taste."

The sunlight was beginning to break through the mouth of the cavern, casting the rocks in a pink-tinged glow. He looked at the woman beside him curiously, finally able to make out her facial features. She had a strong, jaw that came to a point on her heart-shaped face. A curtain of tangled, dark brown hair fell below her shoulders, tickling her pronounced collar bone. He brought his eyes back to her face, where a slightly flat nose sat above a set of red, plump lips and her eyes…

Remus nearly gasped in shock. Her almond-shaped eyes were lined with thick, dark lashes, but the irises shone brightly through them—gold as a galleon.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" She asked, shifting uncomfortably. "I'm not afraid to kill you. I'll do it if you make me."

"Sorry, no, I just…" Remus blinked several times, looking anywhere but her face. "Your eyes."

"Yeah, I'm Asian. You got a problem with that?" she asked defiantly.

"No, no, of course not," Remus rushed out, shaking his head. "It's just…the colour…"

She pulled her head back to stare at him, eyes narrowed and brows pulled together, "Same as yours."

"Yeah, but...have yours always been gold?"

She chuckled, wrapping Remus' cloak around herself tighter as she stood. She stepped over to the clothesline, plucking off a dirty blue sundress. She pulled it over her head, gently folding Remus' robes over her arm and made her way back toward him. She sat next to him, her elbow bumping his as she stretched her legs out, crossing them at the ankle.

She handed Remus back his robe, "Not always, no. Could you imagine? Look at me! My mum is Japanese. If she gave birth to something with gold eyes she would have tossed me in the Thames when she had the chance."

"How long…?"

"Since I was bitten?" she retorted, "Rather personal question, innit?"

Remus kept eye contact with her, urging her silently to answer.

She let out a huff and pushed her hair behind her ears, "Fuck, I don't know. I barely remember what it was like before I was turned. I was a kid. I think I was eight?"

"Eight?" Remus repeated. He'd never met another werewolf that was turned so young. Typically children didn't make it through the transformation. "How old are you now?"

"Twenty-six."

Remus swallowed, doing the quick maths in his head. "You were turned in 1980?"

"Yeah, that sounds about right."

"How?"

She turned bodily to look at him, folding her legs off to the side and furrowing her brow. "You ask a lot of questions."

"Please," Remus whispered. "I just...I need to know."

She sighed, digging into the breast pocket on her dress. She produced an elastic from its depths and gathered her hair up, securing it in place with the band. "I was kidnapped walking through London with my mum and aunt. They kept us in a warehouse. I think there were a dozen or so of us. Not everyone lived. There were some wizards that came eventually to get us out, I think they were able to get the ones that hadn't been bitten yet but...I'd already been infected the previous month. I was sick as hell for weeks. I thought that first transformation would kill me."

"In a—a warehouse?" Remus said, feeling nauseous.

"Yeah. Definitely don't recommend that as a place to stay. I had to shit in a bucket, It was disgusting! But, I made it out alive, so that's somethin', I reckon."

"Do you know who bit you?"

She shook her head, "Nah, not really. I mean, there were a few of them there and it's kind of hard to know which one it was that turned me." She hiked up her dress, exposing her thighs to show several bite marks. "I think they were planning to just eat whichever of us didn't turn. I hung on though. Always was a bit strong-headed, I guess."

Remus took a slow breath. This woman had been kidnapped and kept in a warehouse in 1980, turned by a group of werewolves. He knew this. He remembered this. Hermione and Sirius had been there. Hermione was the reason any of those children made it out of there alive.

"Were there men in black cloaks there?" Remus probed, trying to solidify what he already knew to be true.

"Death Eaters you mean? Yeah, plenty of them there, though I didn't know who they were at the time."

Remus gnawed at the inside of his cheek, his mouth twisting down in thought.

"You alright? You look like you've seen a ghost."

Remus nodded, stiffly. "The wizards that came for you, that broke you out… I knew a lot of them. They were part of The Order of the Phoenix, so was I."

She lurched forward, covering his mouth with her hands, "Shh! Shut up! You can't talk about things like that here, okay? You'll get yourself killed." She looked around to make sure no one was listening, keeping her hands clasped tightly over Remus' mouth. When she was satisfied that they hadn't been overheard, she brought her hands back down to her lap and leaned closer to his ear.

"They let a werewolf be part of an organization?" she whispered, curiously. "How'd you manage that?"

"I'm a wizard," Remus mumbled, against his better judgement. It wasn't always smart to admit the ability to wield magic in a room full of Dark Creatures. Many of them had been cast out the moment they were turned, if they'd even been a part of the magical world, to begin with.

"No shit," she said, excitedly slapping Remus' knee, "That's bloody cool! I can't do much with magic, just what my wolf helps me with. I was a Muggle when I was kidnapped, though I think I must have had some magic somewhere down the line for me to have survived it."

"That's very possible," Remus agreed.

"What's your name?" she asked.

"Remus."

She stuck out her hand. "Good to meet you, Remus. I'm Mikazuki, but you can call me Mika if you like. Everyone usually does."

Remus took her hand, surprised by the firm handshake. He settled back against the stone again, letting the back of his head rest against the damp rock as he closed his eyes for a moment. He was getting too old for this shit if he were being honest; for transforming out in the woods and sleeping on slabs of stone. His entire body ached, despite the potion.

"You alright?" Mikazuki asked, prodding at his shoulder with a bony finger.

"Tired," he admitted.

"Aren't we all?" she chuckled, "Come on, let's get somethin' to eat and then we can sleep."

Pain. Blinding, white-hot, unbearable pain.

Remus let out a ragged cry, gasping for breath. Everything hurt. His skin was on fire. He wept as he pulled against the silver chains binding him to the wall. He choked out another bellow as the ones around his waist slipped, sizzling against the skin on his hips.

They shouldn't have come here. They should have known they'd be captured, should have known going out to look for James would end with them all dying.

Remus coughed, the taste of whatever potion they had forced down his throat still burning on the back of his tongue. He felt like he was going to be sick. His insides were thrumming, his magic frenetic beneath his skin, buzzing to push through him. It itched down to his bones, as it always did before moonrise. He was suspended in some half transformative state and he didn't know what would happen.

His body began to quake. Violent ripples of searing pain tore through his muscles with every jolt. He could feel his skin blistering—could smell it burning away beneath the silver. He was going to die like this; chained in a basement like an unwanted dog. And Hermione…

He'd roped her into this. If it hadn't been for him leaving James' side in the first place…

She'd already been tortured and Merlin only knew what else they'd done to her. He was going to die locked in this room, surrounded by the stench of burning flesh and he'd never even told her how he felt about her. Never told her that he had fallen head over heels, madly in love with her. He loved her with every fibre of his broken being and he hadn't even fucking told her. Jesus, he was a miserable coward. He'd convinced himself it was the wolf. That Moony was making the decision for him and that he was only attracted to her because she was his mate—whatever the fuck that meant.

But, that wasn't true. Not completely, anyway. Because, right now, as he choked out another slobber ridden breath, as tears, snot and blood dripped down his face, he could think of nothing more than how much he loved that witch and how he would do anything—anything—to see her one last time.

The door opened and Hermione appeared as if he'd called for her. As if his desperate pleas had made her materialize. Was he hallucinating? Was she actually here? Alive and—

His teeth began to chatter.

"Oh my God! Remus," she said, rushing toward him. Her hands hovered above the chains on his chest, like she wanted to reach for him but couldn't.

He blinked several times, trying to get his eyes to focus. He took a few shallow breaths, his eyes roaming over her face. She was swollen and bruised, her mouth full of blood and her lip split.

"Hermione, no!" He cried out, his voice shredded from screaming, "What...what d-did he d-do to you?"

"Oh, this? This is nothing, love! Nothing," Hermione motioned toward her face, a smile showing she was missing a tooth and he felt his chest clench. "You should see the other guy."

Fuck she was perfect. A time like this and she finds a way to crack a joke? How had he gotten so fucking lucky? He tried to laugh, though it came out as a gurgling sob. And she was crying now, he realized. Tears fell fast and heavy from her wobbling chin as she tried to smile at him.

"I have to get this silver away from your skin," she whispered, more to herself than to him. He could practically hear the gears working in her head as her eyes scanned him. Then, she grabbed the hem of her shirt and ripped it over her head. "This is going to hurt, Remus. I'm sorry, but this is really going to hurt."

"It f-f-fucking already d-does!" He choked out.

Hermione stepped forward, tugging gently at the top chain, causing the one on the bottom to tighten, searing through the skin and burning fiercely. Remus howled in agony—

"Oi!"

Remus felt his shoulder shake and he shot up, his chest heaving with breath. He looked around, his head swiveling to and fro as he tried to catalogue his surroundings. He reached for his wand, scrambling backward with it pointed in front of him.

"Shit, Remus! It's Mika," she said, shuffling toward him on her knees. "Calm down, it's just a nightmare, yeah?"

Remus took in a few sharp breaths, licking his lips to restore moisture to his dry mouth. Mika was kneeled next to him, her eyes wide with alarm, a hand reaching out to land on his shoulder.

"Sorry," Remus ground out. "I didn't...sorry."

"It's okay," she whispered, planting herself on her bottom next to him. "Gave me a right scare, though."

Remus sat up, running his hands through his hair. "Yeah, sorry."

"I said it's alright," she implored.

Remus closed his eyes for a moment, listening to the sound of the woods around them. Crickets chirping and bullfrogs singing to one another from across the pond. If he focused, he could hear the rustling of underbrush as the snakes slithered through the grass, burrowing into holes near rotting trees. His chest rose and fell heavily; he felt like he'd just run a marathon.

"Who's Hermione?" Mika asked, after several quiet minutes.

"What?" Remus said, opening his eyes to look at her.

"Hermione," Mika repeated. "You shouted her name just now. Is that like...your daughter?"

"Do I look old enough to have a daughter to shout at?" Remus deflected.

"Mate, no offence but you look old enough to be my dad," she laughed. "How old are you, anyway?"

Remus narrowed his eyes at her, "Thirty-eight."

"Alright, so not old enough to be my dad. A weird uncle though, maybe."

"How am I in weird uncle status? We've only known each other a month," Remus chuckled.

Mika shrugged, "Exactly. We've known each other for over a month and I hardly know anything about you! You know all kinds of stuff about me—"

"Because you talk a lot."

Mika rolled her eyes, "Yeah, well, you're kind of quiet, and you mumble to yourself a lot. S'bit weird."

Remus let out a huff and Mika laughed, reaching for her duffle bag and pulling out a couple of small packets of crisps. She tossed one to Remus and opened her own, shoving a few in her mouth.

"Nicked these off some Muggles on a picnic," she explained. "Got a sandwich too, if you want some."

"How old is it?" Remus asked, carefully opening the packet.

"Only a few days."

"Mika," Remus admonished, grimacing. "You know I can cast a stasis—don't eat it, now!"

"You're awfully picky for a werewolf," Mika teased, chewing happily away at her sandwich. "I've eaten far more questionable things than a three-day-old cheese and pickle sandwich, thank you."

"Are you proud of that?" Remus laughed, stuffing a few crisps in his mouth, "because you sound proud of it."

Mika gave another shrug. "Anyway, you're deflecting. Who's Hermione?"

Remus sighed, handing his half-eaten packet of crisps to Mika to finish off. She took them, arching an eyebrow and dipping her hand into the bag.

"My mate," Remus muttered.

"Your...hang on, you've met your mate?" Mika gasped, spraying chewed crisps into her lap. She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, "Holy fuck, Remus! Do you know how fucking rare that is?" She scooted closer to him, practically bouncing as she tapped his legs repeatedly. "Tell me about her! Tell me everything!"

Remus stared at Mika, debating on whether he could trust her. He'd gotten along with her easily enough. She'd been the only person in the den to defend him when anyone began asking questions or accused him of trying to infiltrate. She'd asked to come along with him when he'd told her he was leaving the pack. Maybe she had something there to run from. Maybe she had a good reason to leave. But, she didn't give him any reason not to trust her, and he was desperate to talk to someone about all the new information that had been dumped into his head.

Remus took a slow breath and slumped forward a bit, tearing up a few blades of grass as he began. "I met her at the end of 1979…"

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a/n: it is with MAJOR excitement that I introduce you all to Mikazuki. Afterall, we can't expect Remus to spend the next few years alone again, can we? I hope you like her! Let me know your thoughts?

xo

Mimi