Moira lay in her bed, unable to sleep.  After Severus' announcement that something big was happening among the Death eaters, and her evening with Harry, she had forgotten for a little while the conversation she had had with Severus just two days ago.  Now, her mind lingered on it.  Had he really hinted what she thought he had?  Had Remus really loved her so long ago?

Now her mind dwelt on her visit with Remus earlier in the week, when she had asked him for advice on Sirius.  She remembered how he had taken her hand and led her to the fire, how warm his fingers had been, entangled with her own.  He had stood so near to her she could smell the perfume of his skin as he gazed down at her with those amber eyes of his.  And she relived the surprise of Sirius' return.  No, not surprise.  Disappointment, for that was what she had felt.

What is he had not returned at that moment?  Would he have kissed her?  Would she have stopped him?

Gods, they had been best friends all those years!  He was probably just being nice to her.  She was just reading more into it than there really was.  And yet, the idea of Remus taking her in his arms and kissing her did not make her apprehensive as it had with Sirius.  Was she really falling for him?  Or was she just pulling away from Sirius, away from her past?

Moira rolled over onto her side, pulling the blanket tightly around herself and closed her eyes.

In the sweet darkness of her bedroom, Moira imagined Remus down toward her, his eyes closed in that long moment before his lips would meet hers.  Sadly, her imagination could not create the warmth or pressure of his hand on hers, his lips on her lips.  She could see it, but not feel it.

Moira opened her eyes and stared into the darkness.  She wanted to feel it.  She wanted his arms to encircle her.  She wanted to hear his laughter, to feel his breath on her neck.  She wanted to hear his voice tell her that he loved her.

'Afterall,' she thought with a clarity she had long lost with Sirius, 'I love him.'   

Moira realized her face was probably flushing as she told Dumbledore where she was going.  He smiled at her in that knowing way he always used when he knew what no one else did, but did not ask any questions.  Instead, he merely waved his wand toward his fireplace, opening it for travel to Remus' house as he had done every time she had asked.  Felling that Dumbledore knew her purpose, she wished she could use the fireplaces without his assistance, but it was a security precaution, stopping unwanted travelers from simply appearing in the school unannounced.

"The full moon cycle begins tonight.  Did Severus already deliver the potion?"

"I asked.  He said he dropped it off this morning."

"Good.  If Remus is already changed-"

"I'll come right back.  He'll probably be sleeping anyway."

"Possibly," Dumbledore agreed with that same knowing smile.  "But you won't find out until you actually go."

Moira realized she hadn't actually moved since Dumebledore opened up the fireplace in his office, even though she knew exactly where the Floo Powder was.  Gods, her hands were trembling as she reached up and took a pinch to throw into the flames.

"Oh, and Moira," Dumbledore said as she stepped in.  "Good luck."

Moira stepped out of the fireplace in the familiar surroundings of Remus' living room.  She glanced around the room, feeling very nervous for what she was about to do, looking for him.

"Remus?" she called, walking toward the kitchen.

"What do you want?"  The voice that answered her was more stern than she had expected.  She turned back toward the living room and found Remus standing on the bottom step of the staircase, staring at her.  He did not smile or welcome her, but only gazed at her coldly.  His light brown hair was disheveled, his face ashen.  She would have guessed he was ill were it not for how still he stood.

"I came to talk-"

"Sirius isn't here," he snapped.  "You should go."

"I didn't come here to talk to Sirius.  I need to talk to you."

"And I need you to leave.  I'm in no mood to counsel you on your love life."  He strode across the room to the fireplace where he pinched some Floo Powder and tossed it into the fire.  "Hogwarts."  Remus stood transfixed, staring into the green flames.

"Remus, I don't want to talk about Sirius.  I need to talk to you.  About you.  And-"

Moira stopped speaking when she saw his body tense for a moment, as if in pain.  She reached out, touching his shoulder.

"Are you okay?"

"No, Moira.  I'm not.  Now please, go."

"All right," she said softly.  "I'll go.  I just wanted to tell you that I know.  I know what you felt all those years ago. How you felt about me, and that-."     

"Why?" he asked, cutting her off.  "So you can gloat?  Or so you can feel bad for poor old Remus who entertained the notion that mighty Moira O'Shaughnessy might one day love him.  Moira, do you have any idea what you do to me?"

"Remus, I know what you've been going through-"

"Know?  KNOW?  How can you possibly know?"  He spun around quickly, catching Moira by surprise.  His face was twisted, contorted in anger.  "You know everything, don't you?  Little Miss Perfect, who can raise her hand and answer every question, but you know nothing!  For the last fifteen years, you've pretended to live.  Gone through all the motions, but not really living!"

            "That's not fair!" she yelled back, instinctively backing away as he moved slowly toward her.

            "Fair?  Who said anything about fair?  This isn't a game, Moira.  This is life.  This is my life.  There is no such thing as fair!"

            "What has gotten into you?"  Before the words had even left her mouth, she noticed the signs of the moon playing on him.  His body was stretching, broadening.  His jaw was thickened.  He was changing.  His temper had become violent.  "Remus, have you been taking Severus' potion?"

            "Of course I have.  Do you think me a fool?"

            Something was very wrong.  Either he hadn't taken the potion or it wasn't working.  This anger, this temper, it wasn't in her personality.  It was the werewolf.  Moira's eyes swept the room, landing on the fireplace with the supply of floo powder above and her robe hanging beside it, her wand jutting out of the pocket.  She moved for it, but Remus moved more quickly, blocking her path.  Moira ran into his chest and was gripped by her shoulders.

            "We're not done talking," he growled, pushing her backward.  She fell against the coffee table.  Her hand scrambled across the top, looking for anything to defend herself.  Her fingers closed around the handle of a paring knife on an empty plate.

            Holding the knife toward him, she pushed herself to her feet.

"Remus, stay away from me.  You don't know what you're doing."

"What are you going to do with that, Moira?  You going to kill me?  That's always been your way, hasn't it?  When in doubt, kill something.  Well, it's going to take a much bigger knife than that to kill me."  He knocked the knife out of her hand, advancing on her slowly. 

"Do you really think no one else has ever tried?" he continued.  "Kill the werewolf!  Burn him!  Cut him apart!  You're just like the rest of them, Moira.  You treat me like I'm nothing more than an animal!"

"No-"  She stumbled over an unseen footstool blocking the path of her legs and fell backwards, landing painfully on her back.  She was stunned for a moment, giving Remus time to pounce on top of her, pinning her arms to the floor.  His knee crushed into her thighs, holding her down.

"What are you going to do now?" he whispered harshly into her ear.

"Get off me!"

"That's not very effective.  You hold no power over me."  He tightened his grip on her arms.  The sharp nails of his elongated fingers tore onto her wrists.  He sniffed her neck and hair, and smiled down at her.  "You're afraid, aren't you?  Scared of the big bad werewolf.  Fearless Moira feels terror."

"Stop it, Remus!"  She twisted sideways, loosing one of her legs from under his knee.  Pushing her foot on the ground, she attempted to turn, to topple him from on top of her.  He straddled her, pushing both of her legs together, holding them with his weight.  "Remus!  Remus, please!  Please stop this!"

"I don't want you to beg," he told her.  "I want you to scream."

"Please, please, Remus," she begged.  Tears were streaming down her face now.

"Pathetic!" he growled.  "I told you to scream!"  He slapped her hard across the face, leaving deep gashes across her cheek from his claw.  She screamed and he hit her again, knocking her unconscious.  His hand was frozen in midair, ready to strike again, when the realization of what he was doing struck him.  He stared at his hand, the long fingers, the thickening knuckles covered in fur, then stared down at Moira, her blood mixing with the tears on her cheek.

"Oh gods," he gasped.  "Moira?  Moira, open your eyes."  He fell backwards from her body, pushing himself away from her.  "What have I done?"  He gripped his chest, the pain of the transformation nearly complete.  The last salient thought of the man inside him was to get away before he killed her.

Moira could hear voices in the room as awareness returned to her.  She had been moved to the couch, or had she moved herself?  She was unsure. The side of her face was burning.  Her jaw was filled with searing pain.

"I do not see why you did not want me to go with him."  The voice was low, grave.  Snape?  Why was Snape there?

"If what we suspect is true, you would be of no help.  You would only be in danger yourself."  A cool cloth was being pressed against her face.  Was that Dumbledore?  "Besides Severus, I am not going to give you two a chance to kill each other."

Moira forced her eyes open.  Snape was leaning against the mantle of the fireplace, looking very uncomfortable and austere in Remus' home.  His black eyes fell on her, and though his face was unchanged, she sensed him smile.

"Your patient is awake, Albus."

Professor Dumbledore turned slowly on the edge of the couch and looked down at Moira's open eyes.

"Ah, Moira.  How nice to have you back among the coherent." 

"Remus-"

"Sirius is looking for him now."  Sadness had touched his face.  "Severus, freshen this up, please."  Snape took the cloth from Dumbledore's hand and disappeared into the kitchen.  Dumbledore turned back to her.  "Moira, what happened?"

"I don't know.  He started changing, but was angry, violent.  Like he hadn't taken the Wolfsbane Potion.  He kept screaming the cruelest things at me."

"He took the potion," Severus announced, reentering the room with the rag in one hand and a large goblet in the other.  He handed the rag to Dumbledore, then ran his finger along the inside lip of the cup.  After examining the granules that stuck to his finger, he touched them to his tongue.  "Sugar," he told them.  "Sugar was added to the potion, making it useless."

"Remus?"

"No, Lupin knows better.  If he adds sugar, he might as well not drink it."

The door burst open and a large black dog entered and took the shape of Sirius. 

"He's gone," he said solemnly.  "His trail just stops about 200 meters into the woods."  He noticed Moira looking up at him.  He softened.  "Are you all right, Moira?"

"Yes," she answered, but not feeling all right at all.  Where was Remus?