Definition Of A Wolf

Part Seven

Disclaimer: Phwee! **Does a disclaimer dance** Well, anywhoops.Me no own, you no sue!

A/N:I didn't expect this story to be so long. It is getting in the way of my novel writing, but I'm far to involved, and have too much support to give it up. (The discovery of my Muse would be a help, though . . . for Muse bait, Padfootwolfboy, try bananas dipped in Naphtha. They like that for some reason.

Also, have lost my copy of PoA . . . so forgive any errors I make. Please?

Dedication: To all my lovely reviewers! You may all have an Angel cake!

***

The sixth year students slouched into the Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom not expecting very much from this lesson. Professor Lupin was the best DADA teacher any of them had seen, and when he was away at full moon the lessons were usually covered either by someone totally useless or by Snape, who usually taught Potions and hated three quarters of the students in the school. Only students in his own house, Slytherin, would be shown any mercy by Snape, and even then it was sparse.

But it wasn't Snape taking the lesson today. It wasn't even some under- qualified substitute teacher. It was Sirius Black.

"Sirius!" Harry exclaimed happily when he caught sight of his Godfather.

"Hullo, Harry," said Sirius cheerfully. "Hullo, Ron, Hermione." He gave the entire class a huge grin.

By now, most people had heard of Sirius' innocence in the eyes of the law, and were quite happy to be in the same room as the ex-convict. Neville Longbottom, on the other hand, was behind the times as usual. He took one look at Sirius' grinning face, and passed out. Sirius' face fell.

"Damn," he muttered. "Never mind. Roll him under a desk, someone, can't have the poor boy lying around . . . "

Seamus Finnegan and Lavender Brown tucked Neville under the desk, then everyone settled down for the lesson.

"This should be good," Draco Malfoy whispered to one of his Slytherin friends. "That idiot obviously knows plenty about the Dark Arts."

"Not half as much as your father, master Malfoy," said Sirius smoothly, not looking up from the book he was exploring. "I'll have silence in this classroom, please. You wouldn't misbehave for Professor Lupin, would you?"

Malfoy, obviously annoyed by the comment about his father, lifted his chin in defiance. "Lupin's pathetic. He couldn't control a class of paper dolls. And he's dangerous too. He growled at me once!"

"He did too!" Added another Slytherin.

"We've been saying for ages he should be sacked," said Malfoy, leaning back in his chair and enjoying the limelight. "But if you're going to be the replacement, I think we'll keep the killer beast, thanks."

Harry watched Sirius' face very carefully throughout the whole of this. It was wooden, almost void of any expression at all. Harry could almost believe Sirius was trying very hard indeed to stop himself from either swinging for Malfoy or bursting into tears. However, Sirius did neither. He merely said quite calmly, "Twenty points from Slytherin, Malfoy. Now shut up and pay attention."

Malfoy blinked in surprise. He obviously hadn't expected retaliation from Sirius, and seemed to decide it was best to keep quiet for now.

"Right," said Sirius, putting his book down. "What have you lot been studying with Remus up until now?"

Hermione Granger's hand shot up. "Dark Magic potions, sir," she said, hardly noticing Sirius' discomfort at being called 'sir'. "Professor Lupin has been showing us how to tell if a potion is safe to drink."

"Probably not the best time for a practical lesson, then," said Sirius, grimacing slightly. "Probably not a good idea to have practical lessons on this at all," he added quietly, remembering what a disaster Remus could be with potions.

He copied some apparently relevant lines from a book onto the board for the students to copy onto parchment, and wandered around the place examining people's work. When he got to the three Gryffindor students sitting at the back, he totally failed to meet Ron's eyes, and instead crouched over Harry's work, apparently engrossed.

"I suppose you told the others," Sirius asked of Harry's essay.

"I don't believe it," said Harry, peering into Sirius' face. "You and Lupin aren't gay . . . Are you?"

Sirius glanced at his godson's questioning expression. He winced slightly.

"Remus is very much gay, Harry. I don't think he'd want me to lie to you about that. As for me, well, that's . . . something under review right now." He looked at Harry again, and lowered his voice until it was barely audible. "I like Remus a Hell of a lot. When I'm not with him, I can convince myself that I - that I love him. When I'm near him I can't think about anything else. But, but . . ." This time Sirius looked to Hermione for reassurance.

"Go on, Sirius," she said, smiling kindly.

"Well, I'm not sure if it's the . . . right thing. Remus is a special guy, but he needs consistency. Werewolves do. I can't give him that, I'm not always around, and I - "

"Woah!" Hermione held up her hands for him to stop talking. "Hold on a minuet. Surely what matters most is whether you love Remus?"

Sirius stared at her for a moment, then nodded. He grinned suddenly. "You're right, Hermione. As usual. I love him. I'd die if anything happened to him. And I've got to let him know that."

***

Eyes . . .Two wide, glowing yellow eyes loomed at Remus out of the darkness. He knew those eyes, he'd seen them before, those *exact* eyes. He'd know them anywhere. They were imprinted on his memory for eternity.

His own eyes rolled shut as he slipped into the flashback.

**He'd been no more than six years old, and playing in his muggle parents' front garden. They has recently moved to Sussex. How could they have known their town was almost fifty per cent wizard populated? How could they have known the types of weird and dangerous creatures wizards and witches attracted? And if they had known, how could they have protected themselves?

The werewolf bided its time. It wasn't yet fully dark, even though the moon had been out for hours. But it couldn't wait too long, else the child would be removed from the garden. Never before had it seen such an easy target, and it was convinced that it must be some kind of trap.

Nevertheless, it hadn't fed in months. Hadn't tasted human flesh. The scent of the small boy hung in the air for yards around, tantalisingly sweet. It had a fresh scab on it knee, and the werewolf could smell the already congealing blood. It was driving it wild, but wolf senses overrode the desperate urge just to run in and kill. It scouted the edge of the garden. It could see no other humans. Had they just left this child here as a gift?

Drool dripped from the werewolf's jaws. The boy was coming closer, of its own free will. How stupid these humans were! All that was needed was one bite to satisfy the werewolf's hunger, just one. And the child was well within reach. . .

Remus had long ago noticed the creature in the shrubbery, watching him, and concluded that it was a dog. Since he didn't like dog much, he decided that ignoring it was the best policy. He certainly hadn't expected it to come leaping out of the bushes, claws flying, yellow eyes gleaming, pinning him to the ground. Those eyes stared into his own, daring him to fight back, then he felt teeth sink into his neck, and warm blood springing from the wound. He tried not to cry. A six year old boy would often rather die than be seen by his friends to cry.

And then the gunshot rang out. The werewolf reared away from him, a mad glint in its eyes. Remus felt more fear at the sound of the gunshot than anything else.

His parents ran into the garden, his father hastily re-loading his rifle, his mother screaming and waving her arms madly. But Lupin senior didn't get a chance for a second shot; the werewolf was gone almost instantly, struggling away into the undergrowth to die from its wound.

And that was all Remus could remember for a long time afterwards**

Surely the beast was dead now? And surely it couldn't hurt him now. He opened his eyes to gaze once more into those of his werewolf sire.

***

After the lesson, Sirius bounded through the castle and out onto the grounds. He transformed into Padfoot as he ran toward the Whomping Willow, and its tunnel which would lead him to Remus.

How could he have ignored this feeling inside him for so long? Now he had let it see daylight, he knew it had always been there. He tilted back his canine head and howled for every dog within a mile to hear: "I LOVE REMUS LUPIN!"

He got a couple of barked responses along the lines of "shut up!" and "Nobody cares!" But he ignored them. Dogs were obnoxious creatures.

Sirius enjoyed the sensation of occupying another, un-human form. This body was much more free than his usual form, and he covered the ground between the castle and the willow in hardly any time at all. He could remember doing this as a boy, with James and Peter, all three of them transformed and going to meet Remus in the shack for their monthly adventures. Together, the four of them had explored almost the entirety of the Forbidden Forest, Hogsmeade village and Hogwarts castle. And, of course, their wanderings had allowed them to make the Marauders' Map, their legacy. Tonight, Sirius knew, he and Remus would tread those childhood paths again, investigating places undisturbed for twenty years. They would remember James and Peter as they had been, young and carefree, and they would go even further than they had in their youths, even deeper into the forest, maybe clear over to the other side . . .

And then, when the time was right, Sirius would tell Remus that, yes, he felt it too. That he loved him. And then . . . Well, who knew what could happen then? A huge grin spread across Sirius' canine features at this thought. . .

And then it vanished as he neared the willow. He certainly could not fit through to stop the branches moving, and the stick usually used had been left on the other side of the tree, near the trunk, by Remus, who would need it to get back.

He began to lose heart when he remembered something. The Shrieking Shack was a house. This meant it would have a door, probably down in Hogsmeade. The grin returned as he galloped down towards the village.

To Be Continued . . .

A/N: Phwee! Yes. Indeed. A few notes to my sponsors. Um. I mean Reviewers.

Sicily Lupin: Really? Wow! **Feels all warm inside**

Lady Midnight: But if I didn't keep cutting it off at the good bits, would you keep coming back for more? I'm soooooo glad that you do! I love your story! Hey, guys, go and read Lady Midnight's story, it is called "Saying No To You" and it's brilliant! (Um . . . I used your Sirius-the-Ladies'-man thing a wee bit . . .But I think he was!)

Jinglefairy: Heehee! Siri/Rem slash rules. If you want a *really* good story, check out the one I mentioned above (no, Lady Midnight is not paying me. She doesn't need too!)

Lady Robin: I've written more! And it's quite soon, no? . . . Goodness me, I have two Ladies reading my stuff. Well, I am a Queen, what do you expect? **Gloats a bit** A-hem. . .

Dace: Wahoooooooonie!! Sephie wrote to me! Shall poke her for ye a bit.wait, I could tell you this any time . . .

Padfootwolfboy: As I mentioned, bananas soaked in Naphtha area good way to lure muses. Oh, and don't clobber Sirius! **Snuggles Sirius. Gets funny looks from Remus. Whimpers, runs away** Oh! Mister Wolfboy's stories are very good too!! Go read!

Anonymous, un-named person: You hate cliffs? Are you from Dover?

Well, that's it. For now. Yes. Have fun!! Part Eight will be up very soon! And, yes, I'm hyper! And I ought to calm down . . . Phwee!