-sigh-

Well, that was very sad, wasn't it? At least this chapter is a bit happier!

One of the characters in this chapter is called Midas, and he was supposed to be named after the Big Bad Wolf from the Disney comics, but then I found out he apparently only has a name in the Netherlands... oh well.

Have fun, and review, please! I hope to hit 100 reviews before the end of this fict, and after this chapter, we only have two more to go, so... review!

Summer of 1992.

"The potion that professor Snape has been making for me is a very recent discovery."

 "End of the schoolyear of 1976-1977."

Lily's bright red hair stood out in the sunlight, although the black and white photo did not show any colours. She was sitting with James, Sirius and Peter on a bench under a tree on the Hogwarts grounds, all dressed in their Gryffindor robes. James was wearing his Headboy-badge, Peter's tie was a messy knot and Sirius wasn't wearing a tie at all. As usual. In their second year, Professor McGonagall had decided to stop telling Sirius off from not wearing the scarlet and yellow striped tie, because it had no use, he simply refused wearing it. He only wore it on two occasions: the beginning and end of years feast.

Remus thought back to the day he had taken this picture while he took a knife and carefully cut the photo out of the album. They'd just heard they'd all passed their exams and were in a festive mood. It had been James' idea to take pictures.

Remus was happy for it: now he had at least some pictures to send Harry. He'd got a letter from Hagrid, asking if he had some photos of James and Lily to give Harry. Remus had immediately searched his photoalbums (well, after he had fought off the desire to kick the Dursleys hard and very painfully for not showing Harry pictures of his parents), but was amazed when he found out how little pictures he had with only James and Lily on it. Most of them had all the Marauders on it, but no Lily. Remus became slightly frustrated when he'd leafed twice through his albums and found only two pictures: that one made at the end of their seventh year, and one made at James and Lily's wedding. He packed the three albums back into the box he kept them in and brought them back to the attic. He stood there for a few minutes, looking around the messy and dusty attic, when he saw a familiar carton box with familiar handwriting on it.

"I have not opened it – I wonder if I ever will…"

Only moments later he was on his way downstairs again, the carton box in his hands.

~*~

 The knife ripped easily through the old layers of Spellotape. Remus blew off the dust and opened the box, carefully, wondering what he would see. He had to admit: it didn't look like much. A few leather-bound books, a small square box and a bundle of yellowish paper and parchment, nothing more.

First he picked up the bundle of paper and leafed through it. Drawings, letters, even a Transfiguration essay from James (top marks, not surprising), but nothing really interesting.

The square box contained some jewellery and other objects which weren't really interesting. Or… His fingers suddenly dug into the mess of jewellery and took out a leather necklace with a circular pendant attached to it. The pendant showed a crying wolf. It's left side was vaguely shaped like a quarter of the moon, and three small blue precious stones were set into the metal of the pendant. Remus looked at the necklace in amazement. It had been his once, a gift from his Marauder friends to Moony, but he had lost it in his seventh year. He had no idea that James had found it, let alone that he had kept it. He hung it around his neck and continued searching through the box.

He took out the books. Most first of them were just novels, most of them had "Lily Evans" written in them. Finally he found what he was looking for: a photo album. The leather creaked when he opened the album. Someone had written, in fine curly handwriting "James Harold Godric Potter" on the first page. Remus grinned. Poor James. Having to live with such a name.

The few ten pages or so were filled up with babypictures of James with the familiar wild Potter-hair. James beamed at him from every page. Remus quickly leafed to 1971, their first year of Hogwarts. All the while he had the feeling he was doing something wrong, as if he was trying to sneak into someone's house or reading someone's diary.

He realised he was facing a problem when he had found a picture he thought was good enough to give Harry. He was about to cut it out of the album, when he suddenly remembered he had planned to give the carton box, with it contends, to Harry. And he was sure Harry wouldn't appreciate an incomplete photoalbum…

Grumbling he decided he would just send Hagrid the two photos he had found in his own album. He put them in an envelope with a note explaining when the pictures where taken, took a quill, scribbled "Hagrid, Hogwarts" on the envelop and send it away with the owl Hagrid had send him.

~*~

A few weeks later.

Hot water poured down on his bend head, down his back. Remus closed his eyes and leaned with his head to the wall. The water warmed him to his bones and stopped the aching in his muscles. He turned the left tap a little farther open and clouds of steam filled the shower.

One would think that transforming would become more easy after all those years, but it seemed as if it only got more painful. The last few months he had woken up with a terrible pain in his muscles, and once he had given himself some severe bruises on his head because he had walked headlong into the wall of his basement, where he used to lock himself into. Maybe he was just getting old.

He came to that conclusion again when he was looking in his reflection in the mirror, after he'd stepped out of the shower. His hair was now definitely greying, and the lines in his face seemed to have deepened after his trip to Scotland, two years ago. He had never gone back, nor had he heard from one of the wizards there, except for that one letter Michael had send him three weeks after Remus had left. Michael had send him some photos he had made. Remus had put them in his album and tried to forget about them.

He put on a shirt and loose-fitting pants and walked, still a bit shaky, downstairs for his breakfast. Still chewing on a sandwich with bacon, he checked his mailbox, more out of habit than because he was expecting mail. To his surprise, there was a white envelope in his mailbox with his name on it, in a strange dark green ink. Wondering as to what it was he ripped it open with one nail (one of the advantages of being a werewolf was that you usually didn't need a knife to cut your mail open) and took out a single piece of parchment with "Werewolf Registration Department" in the upper left corner. He frowned. Despite being registered and having visited a "Werewolf Acceptance Group" once, he rarely visited the Department at St Mungo's. As far as he knew, hardly any werewolf did. Having to live with Lycantropy was hard enough without people treating you like a dangerous animal, a ticking timebomb. He started to read the letter.

He was frowning when he had finished the letter. Apparently they thought they had found a cure for Lycantropy, for being a werewolf. Remus' parents had searched for years for such a cure, and now he was invited to come and test it. But to be honest, he doubted if one could actually cure it. He'd just have to wait and see…

~*~

Three weeks later…

Remus' shoes squeaked on the clean floors of St Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries. He followed the signs to the Animal Department (another reason for not going to the Werewolf Registry), almost tripped over a group of rather aggressive Kneazles running loose in the hallways, an angry wizard on their heels, saw three wizards bowing for a bored looking Hyppogriff, and finally saw a small, almost invisible, sign which said "Werewolf Registry Department". The sign looked shabby, in fact the only sign which looked older and worse taken care of was the sign that pointed to the Centaur Department, which almost fell off its pin.

The Werewolf Registry seemed deserted. There was a small brass table bell on the counter. Remus had rang it several times before someone showed up. A nervous looking man appeared, fearfully eyeing Remus.

"How can I help you?" he almost stuttered.

Remus took the letter from his pocket. He needn't say a word; when the man saw it, he muttered "Oh, I see. Wait here please." And with that he disappeared.

Remus drummed his fingers on the counter and tried to ignore the people who occasionally walked by and stared at him. He also tried to ignore the bright red circle around the words "full moon" on the calendar on the wall opposite him. At long last the man returned with a man in a white coat at his side. A doctor.

"Mr Lupin?" he said. "If you'd follow me." Without further introduction he turned and walked away. Remus shrugged. Apparently they didn't like werewolves here.

The doctor opened a door and indicated that Remus should get in. He handed him a few sheets of paper and pencil. "If you would be so kind as to fill this in." Then he left.

Remus quickly read through the sheets of paper. It was a questionnaire. Fun.

He sat down on one of the chairs in the room and started filling it in.

"Please write down you name, address and birthday."

Remus scribbled it down.

"When and where (on which location) were you bitten?"

Hm. He thought about this for a moment, then remembered the date and wrote it down, together with the location.

"Where are you bitten? (where on your body)"

Nice that they took the time to explain the questions. Remus filled in "on my right leg" and proceeded to question number four.

"Have you tried to find a cure, or have you helped with research (for example by testing potions)"

No. Fair and simple. Next question.

"Have you ever bitten anyone?"

Tough one. No, not as far as he could remember, but what if… let's make it a no, he was fairly sure James or Sirius would have told him if he had ever bitten someone. Remus scribbled "no" on the questionnaire.

He was about to read the next question when the sound of an opening door caught his attention. He looked up and saw a woman enter the room. She seemed younger than Remus, her hair was dark and thick, and she was dressed in a small top and a rather short skirt. But this was not the thing that had caught Remus' attention. The moment she had came in and had looked at him with her bright yellow eyes, he had know, had felt that she was a werewolf. He had rarely ever met one of his own kind, and he was amazed by the feeling of unison, the feeling of finally being with someone he could understand, and who understood him. And the images.

The images of running through a forest after it had just rained, of howling to a round moon, of the thousands of different scents through a wolfs nose, the thunder of a stag's hoofs and a dog's paws behind him…

Remus shook his head and the images disappeared. He concentrated on the questionnaire again and saw there were only two questions left. Good.

"Do you have, or did you have, a sexual relationship with someone?"

He blinked. What? He reread the question, but it was still the same. He filled a simple "yes" in and read the last question.

"Do you, or did you, have a paid job?"

No. That's what he wrote down. Then he sat back and started fumbling with his pencil.

"You've filled it all in?" asked a hoarse voice suddenly. Remus jumped and turned to the woman who had spoken. She had also put her pencil down. She nodded to his questionnaire.

"Yes."

"Ah." She seemed to consider something for a moment, then said: "my name is Lova. Fellow werewolf."

"I'm Remus."

"When were you bitten?"

"More than twenty-five years ago."

She shook her head. "I not even five years ago. In my shoulder, you see?" She turned her left shoulder to him and pushed her top a bit to the side, to show him an interesting tattoo. It looked like an Indian tribal. "You see it? I got a tattoo made over it because it looked horrible. Here." She pointed the scar out for him, followed the lines with her finger. Remus saw that almost half of the tattoo was actually scar, and it was so close to her neck…

He was about to say something about that when the door opened again and a huge, almost square man entered the room. He looked like the stereotype of a werewolf; he had heavy eyebrows, bright yellow eyes, thick dark hair and sharp, canine teeth.

"Hello."

Remus and Lova greeted back and the man sat down with his questionnaire. It didn't take him long to fill it in. Then he also leaned back and introduced himself as Midas. The following conversation was polite and careful, the three of them were testing each other, trying to find out how strong that feeling of unison was.

Shortly after they'd begun talking, the doctor Remus had seen before entered the room. He invited them all to follow him. Curious, they did so, leaving the questionnaires behind.

The three werewolves walked through the corridors of St Mungo´s, they passed a rather large portrait of Newt Scamander, the founder of the Werewolf Registry, and finally found themselves in a large, laboratory-like room. There were cauldrons steaming and boiling, and there were four large cages on one side of the room. Remus didn't need much imagination to make up where those cages were for, but he was more curious about the cauldrons.

"Well, here's the most important thing of all," said the nameless doctor, pointing to one cauldron. "We call it Wolvesbane potion, because that's what the main ingredient is."  Seeing the doubting faces of the three, he added: " yes, I know Wolvesbane is poisonous, but in carefully added doses…" His voice trailed off. "Anyway, we would appreciate it-" Remus could only imagine how hard it was to say those words "- if you would test some of it."

"Just for once?" said Midas.

"Ah, no, actually, from now until the next full moon, which is in…"

"Eight days," added Lova. "Wonderful. We have eight days to poison ourselves."

Everybody turned to Remus, who hadn't said anything so far. He took his time to consider, then finally said, thoughtfully: "Wolfsbane might be poison, okay, but if it's a cure to Lycantropy…"

"You'll take it?" one of the wizards near the cauldron said eagerly. Remus shrugged.

"I guess so."

Now he had decided to take the potion, Midas and Lova also agreed, however reluctantly. Three goblets with Wolfsbane were prepared for each of them. Remus stared down in his and felt his stomach turn at the smell.

"Come on," someone said encouraging. Remus took a deep breath and swallowed the contents of the goblet. He doubled over and almost threw up, but managed – if only just – to keep everything inside.

"It's only for eight days," said a wizard soothingly.

Only for eight days?!

~*~

Eight days later…

"Did you took the potion every day?"

Remus nodded, and the wizard who had asked the question marked something off on a sheet of paper.

"Did you took the potion as we gave it to you, or did you add something, for example to change the taste?"

"No," said Remus. Midas, however, said: "yeah, I first added sugar, but that made it tasted like a fizzy drink which was over date, so I added a bit of whisky." And, after he noticed everybody was staring at him: "well, at least it tasted better…"

"Okay," said the wizard, after scribbling something down. "Final question. Did you notice any changes, anything strange at all?"

"I felt nauseated for a week," said Remus.

"Me too," said Midas.

"Oh, I felt dizzy," interrupted Lova. "And the normal signs of Lycantropy that you usually see before the full moon didn't show up, thank god."

The other two werewolves nodded in agreement and the wizard smiled broadly. "That's what we want to hear. That was everything."

"Yes, if you'd come over here please?" someone else immediately called. It was a typical example of the excited rush that had take hold of the wizards at the Werewolf Registry. Remus, Lova and Midas were being pushed from this side of the room to that, and had barely time to catch their breath before someone else was already examining them, asking them questions or whatever.

Now they were being pushed to the cages along the wall. Of the whole research thing, Remus thought this was the worst part; being locked up in a cage with everybody watching you, to see if something happened.

"So, we're going to lock you up in these cages," a slim wizard said a bit too cheerful. "There's a cage for each of you. The sun will be setting in about half an hour, and we would like you to be in your cage by then." The three of them shrugged. Whatever.

The thirty minutes rushed by, and almost before he knew it, Remus found himself locked up. This was a situation he did not like at all. He felt like a monkey in a zoo, with people staring at him. The itching of the coming wolf and the sting of an upcoming headache only made things worse.

Tension rose as it got darker outside. Remus leaned against the bars of the cage, ignored the softly muttering wizards near him, and stared outside the window in the opposite wall. Midas was pacing his cell like, well, a caged wolf and Lova –

"Why are you taking your clothes off?" he asked amazed.

"Because I like those clothes and don't want them torn to shreds," she said, and tossed them out of her cage. She was only wearing her underwear now, and her scar was now frighteningly visible.

"He went for the neck, right?" said Midas, seeing the scar.

"The neck, the head and the left side of the chest, that's were they go for," sighed Lova, paying no attention to the little woman who was writing down everything they said and did.

"Yeah, I know," answered Midas. "I'm lucky I only lost my left ear…" It was the first time Remus noticed that the man was indeed missing his left ear. He felt suddenly relieved he had only one ugly scar on his right leg, and wasn't missing any limbs.

Their desire to talk left them when the moon rose. None of them had ever seen another werewolf transform, and it was almost scary to see the hair grow on Midas' face, knowing that their face was changing as well. The pain was familiar to Remus, but he knew it would fade as soon as his human consciousness would disappear. The only problem was, his human consciousness did not disappear…

He witnessed his own transformation, heard his bones snap as they broke and regrew unnaturally fast, felt the fur grow on his body, as if he was covered with thousands of little bugs. His spine felt as if he was being stretched out, and he knew it was his tail growing. It was sickening.

After ten long torturing minutes the change was completed. Where once had been Remus stood now a large brown wolf, looking, if possible, slightly confused. He sat down and looked at the other wolves. Something appeared to have gone wrong with Midas; he changed, totally. Maybe it was because the potion wasn't strong enough for his large body, maybe it was the whisky, fact was that there was a large black wolf trying to get through the bars of the cage. The wizards all stayed far out of his reach.

Lova had also changed, but lay calmly in her cage, like Remus. He couldn't help but notice, however, that she looked sick and nauseated.

He for him tried to ignore the stinging pain in his head. It was as if someone was slowly pushing a large pin in his head. His vision became misty. He shook his head but his headache only increased. He rested his head on his paws and decided to wait for the next morning…

Things got worse when Lova started to throw up blood. She suddenly lifted her head, opened her mouth and vomit just streamed out of it. This caused an outburst of panic among the researchers. Someone had already grabbed the keys, but others held him back. The slim wizard Remus had seen before totally freaked out and cowered in a corner.

At long last Lova stopped, after she had thrown up all the contents of her stomach it seemed. Three wizards approached carefully with a bright blue garden hose and sprayed her wet and clean. Remus, now being relieved of the smell and sight of vomit, lay down and closed his eyes. He felt delirious, as if he was suffering fever. His head now felt as if someone was jumping up and down on it. In the distant, he could hear two people talk.

"Maybe it's the Wolfsbane?"

"What, you mean they're poisoned?"

"Yeah. The female obviously is, and maybe the brown one too."

"If only he would've been here…" the second one sighed.

"You know what he said, 'the best potion for a werewolf is a strong poison'. Can't say I entirely disagree with him, though."

"Hm. At least one thing is for sure, he absolutely hates werewolves. Pity, everybody knows how talented Hogwarts Potions Master is…"  

Remus headache increased and he blacked out.

~*~

"What happened?"

"I don't know! It must've been the Wolfsbane or something. I only know I couldn't do anything but throw up," said Lova, looking pale and exhausted.

"Whatever, I don't remember anything of what happened," cut Midas in.

"Be happy, it wasn't an entertaining sight," Remus assured him dryly.

The doctor who still hadn't introduced himself entered the room where they were sitting, the same one they had first met and had made their questionnaires. He looked utterly cheerful, even with his lack of sleep.

"Excellent!" he said. "That was fantastic for our first try!"

"He sounds as though we've just performed a play or something," muttered Midas.

"Although we had some complications," the doctor continued, ignoring Lova´s sarcastic look, "we've accomplished everything we wanted. But I have one request."

Silence.

"Uhm, would you three mind trying the potion again? We've made some improvements, and I'm sure it works this time!" The man's good mood was annoying.

"Take the Wolfsbane potion again?" repeated Lova. "No thank you. I've had had enough of it. Give it to me when it's finished."

Her statement startled the doctor, but he turned hopefully to Remus and Midas. "And you?"

Midas contemplated about the request a few moments, then turned his head to Remus. "What do you think?"

Remus immediately shook his head. "No, I don't do it anymore. Once was more than enough for me."

Midas shrugged. "Fine. But I'm trying it again. I want to be cured."

"Excellent!" cried out the doctor, happy that at least one werewolf agreed. Remus wanted to hit him in the face for his cheerfulness and his broad smile. "I promise you all, in a few years, or months even, you'll be cured of your Lycantropy! Wouldn't that be wonderful?"

Remus lifted both his eyebrows, amazed at the man's stupidity. A cure for Lycantropy? Maybe the effects would be tempered, the wolf could be kept in control, but he doubted if any potion could take away the pain and the prejudices that were a part of a werewolf's life…