Chain of Being

By nocturnalferri

Voyager247@yahoo.com

Rated: PG-13

Disclaimer: All Harry Potter characters are, obviously, not mine. I'm just borrowing. BUT! Devra and Vis are mine, and…uh, well, pretty much all the characters you don't recognize are mine too.

AN: Takes place right after Prisoner of Azkaban. The title's only a working one, so feel free to make suggestions.  How's that for subtle begging?

Ahh! I'm reposting this with typo corrections and editing. 1st draft – 10% = 2nd draft, right?  Changed the rating from pg to pg-13. Eh, figured I might let out a curse or two as the story goes on.

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The wizarding world wasn't too happy with him. Then again, it never was. At least, it was until he was bitten. Remus collapsed into a battered wooden park bench. Ever since Severus' cough, slip, un-cough, Remus chose to wait out the agitation in the Muggle world. He dropped his briefcase on the bench and let his arms go limp. At least here he wouldn't be met with automatic hatred and fear.

            Remus sighed and looked down at the newspaper in his hands.  He never did get used to the stillness of Muggle periodicals. It was like examining a black and white corpse. He gave the paper a shake in a pathetic attempt to make himself feel better. The paper didn't change, except for a few more creases than before. Remus took out a Muggle ball pen from his pocket and slashed an X over a classified ad. He grimaced. Nearly the whole page was crossed out. The ones that weren't…well, let's just say that door-to-door carpet cleaning and Chihuahua grooming didn't exactly appeal to him. He didn't have any Muggle credentials, so his best bet for a job was the minimum wage waiter job at the local pub. Too bad it wasn't the Three Broomsticks. He would have at least had Madame Rosmerta to confide in…if she wasn't terrified of him, that is.

            No, Rosmerta wasn't like that. She never cared what he or the Marauders had done. She never cared that Lily was Muggle born, or that Flitch was a squib, or that during their third year James had nicked a shot of the vodka when she wasn't looking, or that Hagrid was a half giant, or that half of her night customers were vampires, or that Sirius had two left feet when he danced with her. It was really a shame that there weren't more 'Madame Rosmerta's in the world.

            Remus tucked the paper back into his coat pocket. It was made of black leather, a bit faded at the edges, but still in good condition. It was one of the few pieces of clothing he had that weren't mended or frayed. He fingered the zipper. Sirius had given it to him as birthday present during their sixth year. He had said it was about time Remus had a slick Muggle outfit to wear for the wild parties he would be dragging him to as soon as they were old enough to get in. Sirius kept that promise all too well. Thanks to Padfoot, he knew most of the clubs in London, both Muggle and Wizard. Not that he spent much time in them. Nowadays, he spent his time either job hunting or at home, reading a book. He'd much rather be at Hogwarts. At least there he'd have things to do, even if it meant grading homework.

            Remus sat up with a start and touched his nose. Remus tipped his head up to give his nose a better whiff of whatever he was picking up. Remus frowned. It was the sort of smell he picked up…after transforming. Remus stood up. The sounds of pre-adolescent yelling caught his attention, which happened to be the direction of the smell. Putting two and two together, Remus broke off into a run, hoping it wasn't too late.