It had been bad this time. The transformation into "the Wolf", even with the potion, could be bad. He may have more control over his actions, but "the Wolf" was still powerful, always battling for control.

After the moon had set, Remus had collapsed on the floor of his small officer. Beneath him sweat mingled with blood. Scratched covered his torso and a bite mark was on his shoulder. That night he had only had brief moments of lucidity. The rest was enigmatic bedlam. "The Wolf" had gotten control and in anger, not being able to hunt, had turned on its self in frustration.

He was to weak to get up. The blood he had and was losing pain a heavy toll. He took comfort in one fact, soon she would get him. Soon Naria would come like an angel of mercy.

-=(^)=-

She sat up that night, like she always did. On the night of his transformation she would rarely sleep, waiting for the dreaded orb of the full moon to set. She had come to hate its silver light. She hated what it did to him. But more that that she hated not being able to be with him when he was forced to suffer.

As the silver disk began to set beneath the horizon she pulled on a robe of simple white foile fabric, perhaps and unfortunate choice. In silence she glided through the halls. As she walked to retrieve him that horrible cat of Filtch crossed her path. In her youth that would of meant that Filtch would soon of caught her doing something. Now it only stalked her and her robe that fluttered behind her, the dynamic of the relationship having changed.

The former auror made it to her destination with out much incident. She opened the door. At the sight which met her eyes she shirked. Remus laid in an ever enlarging pool of his own blood. His robes were a tater, scratched to bits along with his chest.

Dropping the potion which she had brought to strength him, the vial shattered. She ran to him and knelt . Nervously she touched his neck for a pulse. It was, to her relief, steady, but it was also weak, very weak.

-=(^)=-

"Damn Peaves," grumbled the old caretaker. When he heard the shriek he thought nothing of it, save that Peaves was up to no good. He followed the noise as he heard moans. He looked at the door to who's classroom they belonged, "Peaves, you better not be ruining a class room or Dumbledore will have you out for sure," the man said with a smile as he opened the door.

He saw Professor Sojair, knelt over a form, her outfit soaked in blood. The white quickly leaving the dress to be replaced by blood red that blossomed over her. "Somebody, help me," she called out into the void, or so it seemed to her. She did not notice the caretaker, she did not notice anything but Remus, as she whimpered and worried over her fiancé.

"I'll get Madame Pomphrey," Filtch said while he turned and went to get her.

Naria held Remus tightly to her as she cried over him. She felt so horrible. How could I even question my devotion to him when he went through this sort of ting every month? He suffers to be with me, he suffers to live. Shouldn't his suffering be worth something to him? Shouldn't his devotion be meet with the equal amount of love?

She grasped him tightly to her. Resting her head on his and rocking back and forth crying over him as she waited for the help that she know knew was coming she let him rest in the curve of her arm. She looked at him. His hair was matted to his head with a combination of sweat and blood. His face had stream of blood down one of his cheek. It too mingled with his sweat. The robes she could see in her peripheral vision were tattered. His chest had deep gashes across it, digging into his flesh.

Naria wiped his cheek with her hand, trying to wipe away his blood. She looked at the man and tried to make him look more as he should, she tried in vain. The ex-Auror couldn't do anything. She hated her inability, her impotence. She knew spells that could help set him right, but she also knew that if chance should happen and she was wrong she could seriously damage him. For that reason she held her wand to her side. She wouldn't risk any further injury. She also knew that in her tear ridden state she was far more likely to miss cast. So she sat there, her robes staining while she held her fiancé. She sat there just holding him, just holding him close and telling him how much she loved him.

-=(^)=-

"I love you, Remus. I love you. Don't leave me. Please," he could foggily hear a woman's pained voice cry to him. He knew from her please something was a miss, but he was there groggy, not really comprehending what was going on.

"I love you. Please Don't go.Remus," she cried to him again.

He thought it strange that he didn't feel his body. He usually did, but at this moment he didn't care about that. He was comfortable. He had left his body of pain. Why should he go back to it?

"Please..Remus. I love you."

He then thought about the woman who called to him. She was like an angle. Her voice was sweet even as a cry. She had the most lovely face. The face being the only thing he could see clearly of her. It was streaked with tears and for a moment he wondered at her. Who was this woman? Who was this angle who cried over him?

"I love you. Come back." She said again, her voice becoming a bit more clear in his ears only because of his concentration.

He thought about her and then he remembered. She was his fiancé and at this simple dawning he was drawn back to his body. He was drawn back because he never wanted to leave her. He opened his eyes and drew in a sharp, painful breath. After another such breath he opened his mouth to speak, "Naria, I won't." That simple sentence hurt him even more and he closed his eyes again trying to not let the pain get to him.

"I love you, Remus," she repeated holding him tighter to her yet.

He knew that her words held truth and indeed they made him feel better, be it only a smidgeon, but better was better. He wanted so much to raise his hand up and touch her face, but he knew that he hadn't the strength in him to do it and so he was resigned to sit in her arms and wait.

-=(^)=-

The new teacher for Hogwarts turned her head as she heard rushed steps down a flight of stairs coming this way. "Help us," she called out and indeed the steps came closer. Madame Pomfrey whoshed in the door her skirt billowing after as she ran. At a similar pace came professors Dumbledore and Snape. This was not surprising, Dumbledore seemed to be every when help was needed and Snape was on duty this night, trawling the halls looking for students who were out of their place.

"I'll take care of him now, dear," said a kindly feminine voice to her. The witch pulled out her wand and waited for Naria to let go. The ex-auror however did no such thing. "Dear?"

Dumbledore touched her shoulder lightly and ended up squeezing it. "We have him now. We will take care of him."

At Dumbledore's warm and friendly voice she let him go. He leaned down and looked at her with concern while the school nurse whisked Remus onto a stretcher and to the infirmary, muttering a spell or two to heal him in the process. "It will be okay, Ms. Sojair."

Naria looked at him blankly and then she shook herself out of it. "Umm. yeah," she said with a dim voice that she hardly recognized as hers. Her eyes almost immediately turned to that dead, not there state.

"Professor. I will help you get to the hospital wing," Dumbledore said warmly to her as he squeezed her shoulder lightly. Even with Dumbledore's many years he pulled her up, surprising both Professor Snape and Sojair at the strength his old body held. Dumbledore lead her through the corridors, his arm around her to support her in her dazed state.

-=(^)=-

Sunlight cascaded down from the hospital's castle windows, refracting their golden rays across every surface they touched. Light that crowned Professor Sojair's sleeping continence with a hallo of light. She had not left his side since. since the beast took control. The chair next to Remus's bed was always occupied with her form, from morning to night and well beyond. She had wanted to be there when he woke up. She had wanted to be there for him, but in truth she stayed for selfish reasons. She needed to stay.

Remus's eyes fluttered open softly to the golden light of midmorning. He felt Naria's hand, which grasped his through out the night. He smiled lightly and ran his thumb over the soft skin of the back of her hand. The sight of Naria seemed to give Remus more energy. He still felt fatigued, but at least it was better. The recovering professor sat up slowly, trying to avoid awakening his sleeping fiancé. It indeed looked as though she needed the sleep.

Madame Pomfrey quickly strode over. "Feeling better, deary?" she asked quietly.

"Umm." Remus said blankly for a moment and then asked a question that had been bothering him, "What happened?"

"Professor Sojair found you in a puddle of your own blood. You were quite a mess. You've been laying here for three days," the school nurse answered quietly.

Remus frowned at this news and then asked, "How long has she been here?"

"Since we brought you in. Dumbledore hadn't the heart to tell her to leave. This is the first time she's slept in days. Poor girl, she's been worried sick. Well, seeing you awake will certainly brighten her spirits," Madame Pomfrey answered with her normally pleasant nature.

"Thank you, Poppy," Remus said to her.

"Now take your medicine," the nurse said a little more sternly. She had grown used to students who didn't want to take they're often foul remedies.

"Yes, Madam," he said with a face that was hardly straight and mockingly snapped a salute. He swallowed the medicine he was offered. He made a small grimace as he downed the medicine. The nurse quickly took her leave after her charge had followed her orders. Remus then looked back at Naria and out stretched his hand to press against her cheek and to brush it lightly. "Love.love," he called to her.

She woke with a start and then looked at him. A smile immediately crossed her face and then she sat up. "Remus. how do you feel?" She asked with a worried look that followed her smile.

"I think Poppy has worrying over me covered, Naria," he said softly with a smile, an infectious smile that quickly spread to his fiancé. "I'll be fine, hun. Go get some sleep. You look like you could use it, love."

"No. I'm staying," she said rather defiantly, even though she was tired.

He studied her for a moment and a vague, pensive smile spread over his face. "Okay, love," he said plainly. In truth, he did not have any desire for her to leave, save that he cared for her and wanted to insure her comfort.

He looked at her in the soft light. The vague smile was still spread across her face. She looked as though she were deep in thought and then she suddenly spoke, "I can't figure out what I did wrong. I've brewed this potion.What?. Eleven times. Every time I brew it make sure that I double check every step, but." She bit her lip as she delved into her thoughts.

Naria had the tendency to talk things through. He understood that people process information in different ways and in some ways he found it fascinating to be privy to another's thought patterns. This time, however, he knew what she was thinking and doing. "Naria, look at me," he ordered her, but his kindly voice lessened the brunt of this order. He did, however, want to impress something upon her, something he did not want her to forget. "I'm sure this wasn't your fault. I do not want you thinking that is." She looked as though she was going to protest so he paused for a moment and held up a finger, "Let me continue." She nodded in a resigned way. "I don't want you thinking that this was your fault for a few simple reasons. One, you are an excellent potions brewer. I have seen how meticulous you are when you brew and this perfectionist streak of yours, while annoying at times.." He smiled wistfully for a moment. "It is still very conducive to a proper brew. Two, for lack of a better word, "the Wolf" is hard to control even with that potion. Sometimes are worse than others. I think you knew this instinctively, though. There was a reason you stayed out side the shed on the nights of my transformation." As he spoke, Naria averted her gaze for a moment. That's not like her normal self he thought to himself, but chalked it up to the events that had occurred. "Third, the Muggles have a magic of their own, which they call science. One of the principals based on reasonably sound logic is called Ockham's Razor. In principle it means that the simplest explanation is often the correct one. I only had one goblet full of the potion, clearly not enough."

"But.." she started to protest.

"No 'buts'." He then toke on a less severe stance and asked, "Whose taught my classes while I've been here?" He was hoping that it would not be Snape.

"I tried to prevent Snape from doing it, but alas this did not work," Naria said with a slight grimace when she spoke the Potion Master's name.

"That's okay," he said off handedly. Part of the arrangement Professor Lupin had made with Dumbledore when he agreed to return was that Snape would not teach his classes, but Remus was a practical man. He understood that agreements can not always be kept.

"Dumbledore did, however, restrict what he taught. He made it perfectly clear that Snape was not to teach anything on werewolves," the ex-auror said softly, looking at her nearly fallen love laying on the infirmary bed.

Lupin smiled for a second more brighter than before, a silent thanks to Dumbledore. "Has Poppy said when I should be recovered enough to return to work?"

"This afternoon. She said that once you awoke she wanted to keep you in observation for a few hours afterwards, but if you seemed to be on the road to recovery you would be able to leave." Then the woman gave him a deep and thoughtful look. She frowned slightly before she spoke, "I'm sorry, Remus. I'm sorry I couldn't teach your class."

Remus had stared at her for a moment as she apologized, hoping she was not on her previous track again and then when it became apparent she wasn't he silently heaved a sigh of relief. "Don't worry about it. It was nicer waking up to you anyways," he said softly. Not only was he trying to comfort her, but it was the truth. "Now then. I'm going to stop talking. You need sleep and I'm not going to give you an excuse not to get some."

"But I prefer speaking to you."

He just looked at her with a smile, a challenging smile. He chose not to answer her proclamation thus staying with his previous stance. He enjoyed playing with her on occasion and giving her "the silent treatment" would certainly irritate her in all the best ways.

"Oh, come on.I know what you are doing."

He arched his eyebrows at her using his body language to say "Oh, really."

"You're just trying to irritate me. I can see that perverse smile on your face. You're enjoying this."

He shrugged in an overemphasized fashion, the smile widening on his face through out the whole "conversation".

Naria bowed her head in resignation and she surreptitiously looked through her veil of blonde locks that cascaded over her eyes. Remus then leaned over a wrapped his arms around her, "Okay. I surrender," he said jovially. Naria then looked up and smiled. She could play as well he.

She then whispered to him softly, "I love you, Remus." For the first time since ariving at Hogwarts she was completely sure of this fact. Remus was whom was meant for. An enigmatic smile spread over her small lips.

"I know," he said softly. As he wrapped his arms around her and held her, he breathed in her soft scent. He had returned to her from a place of pure joy, a place away from pain and he knew that it was worth it. He closed his eyes and took in one more intake of sweet air before he let go.

-=(^)=-

A day latter after having recovered considerable Remus walked the corridors of the castle in the early morning for an appointment he was not looking forward to. Though Remus was considered recovered, her hardly felt it. After particularly bad transformations, it always felt like he had had his strength stolen from him, as if a succubus had forcibly taken it from him. Though on occasion he had reason enough to call Naria that, he knew that rationally that could not of happened. It was the lycanthropy. It took his energy away with every transformation. Remus had heard of strains of the disease which as it progresses the transformations no longer pain the werewolf and some nights that type of the disease seemed preferable, even with the nasty side effects it possessed. This second form of lycanthropy was also known as malignant lycanthropy. It was definitely the worse strain of the two. Malignant lycanthropes were the cause of a lot of the hatred towards werewolves in general. Lycanthropy changes a person's personality. Sometimes these changes are subtle, as with the case of the disease Remus carried, other times they are not. Malignant lycanthropy is marked with extreme personality changes, driving the effected individual into rage during the strong phases of the moon. The Wolfsbane potion had to be adjusted for this type of lycanthropy, but this was the type where individuals enjoyed their transformation. It was freedom for them. Dangerous freedom, but freedom none the less.

The dungeons were dark and dank. They were a place designed for foul things. Remus always felt uncomfortable when he walked down the steps that led to the entrance of Snape's classroom and adjacent office. Today was little different. He wrapped lightly on the large wooden door that closed off his classroom before the day had began. He had had several thefts from his potions ingredients and thus he was loath to keep anything unlocked. Remus knew that Snap blamed Harry for most of the thefts. Remus of course doubted the charges, but if Harry were the culprit magic locks would do little to help. The Marauder's Map was still in Harry's possession. While made by Hogwarts students, the map was a powerful magical tool for mischief. Remus smiled at the thought of the map. It seemed only fitting that it should go to Harry. He knew as a teacher he should not condone the possession of such a map, but as an ex-Marauder he could hardly begrudge Harry the possession of it. The map also had other benefits. It had saved Harry's life and the lives of his friends. So depriving him of it might mean that Remus had made it that much easier to do Harry in. Even though the map was a powerful tool, he also knew that Harry was adventures. He claimed that he did not call trouble to himself, that rather trouble found him. In some cases this was indeed true, but in others Harry's inquisitive nature put him in danger. Isn't there a muggle saying about a cat.Oh, yes. Curiosity killed the cat. And while Remus did not think that curiosity was a bad thing, he knew that untamed curiosity could be dangerous. When one was already marked, it indeed was.

Muffled by the door Remus heard Snape's voice snipe, "Come in." Remus toke a second gulp and entered as the magical door swung open on its own. He would have been amazed, but magic no longer really surprised him. He knew it was a simple charm that had preformed this feat in silence.

Remus saw Snape bent over a caldron coaxing his mixture. He gave a weak smile as Snape looked up at him. He was met with that look of pure hatred and loathing that Snape had been unable to let go of. They all knew that they were as strong as the were united, but Snape toke these words to mean able to work together. This did not necessarily include being civil to those you work with. When it came to human interactions Snape was rarely the bigger man. As a child he had never learned to hide his loathing, unlike so many others. In some ways it was better. When it came to Snape, if he loathed a person they knew they could expect a knife in the back. There were few exceptions to this rule, but there were exceptions. Even though Snape hated James's son, he had done his best to save Harry. His loathing did not follow into a murderous side, or a side so callous as to allow murder. "You asked to speak with me," the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher said meekly.

"What biased lesson do you plan to teach the Slytherins about werewolves?" Snape asked in a voice that was closer associated to a growl.

"Everything that is pertinent," Remus answered him, looking him in directly in the eye. Professor Lupin's face was now harder than it had been before, closed. He knew what to expect from this conversation.

"You mean every thing you feel is pertinent?" Snape said with a voice that was far colder than before.

"Severus, make your point," Remus said impatiently.

"I'll make this simple for you, Professor," Snape's voice, while normally full of contempt, was worse when ever he uttered the word "professor" in conjunction with Remus.

"Werewolves ARE dangerous. You are going to teach them that your kind are people too, but you're not. You're killers, nothing less, nothing more. The Committee for the Disposal of Dangerous Creatures should deal with all your kind. What are you going to teach them? That werewolves are no more dangerous than average dog. Your students will be vastly misinformed and to their own peril. Think about what happened that night you didn't get you potion. You could of killed. you would of killed."

"I have no intention in teaching them werewolves are not dangerous. In the form of the wolf we are. We do not have control of our actions. BUT I do intend to teach them that though they should be wary of werewolves, they are indeed people to. We don't warrant destroying. Your hatred blinds you to this fact. What if you were a werewolf or someone you cared about? You would have a very different view. I want to show them that some creatures are dangerous, but that does not mean they should be eradicated. All it means as that one should be educated and wary when need be." Remus's voice was strong and proud. He was not going to let Snape bully him. Then as after thought he added, "This is a disease, an affliction. I am as much a wizard as you. The same applies to those affected with this condition."

"Deep down you know you are a killer, Remus," Snape said simply as he turned his back to the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher.

"Deep down I know I have free will. I am more than my biochemistry," Remus said to the void that Snape had created by turning his back to him. "I fight with every fiber of my being to stop those who do evil. I fight to save some man, woman, child, wizard, witch, or muggle I don't know. I fight against those who don't believe in free will, against those who don't think it counts for anything and thus they believe they are entitled to bend the wills of others to achieve their goals. I make a conscious choice to protect life, Severus. I'm not a killer. I fight those who are. I always have. I always will. Blood has very little to do with the equation."

Severus Snape turned sharply around and glowered at Remus. His voice was a deadly hiss as he spoke, "Then explain your willingness to tear me apart."

"Other than you nasty attitude? Other than your irrational hatred brought about by jealousy?" Remus said softly, but his quiet voice still held all the force of a yell. "Simple, Severus, it's called dementia. Dementia that is brought about by the transformation. Dementia that can now be controlled. Dementia that can be channeled. Dementia that can be stopped. There was a time when I might have bought your arguments about werewolves and how dangerous we supposedly are. Now that time has passed. With the invention of the Wolfsbane potion we can not be called all evil. We have a choice now about our condition and whether we will let it effect others, harm others, kill others. But you see, Severus, that is the key. It has been and always will be choice. Our choices make up the fundamental differences between people. Those people who choose to do things that are fundamentally rooted in evil make a conscious choice. It is a choice that effects all of their actions. But the reverse of the equation are those who choose to protect people, to help them. Your inability to understand the subtle difference between actions and intentions is what holds you to your pain and prevents you from being able to do those things you have wanted. Why do you think you have been passed up from the Defense Against the Dark Arts job? Because you don't understand the difference between a spell and curse at the fundamental level. They are one and the same when it comes to the incantation, it's the intent that changes a spell into a curse and vice versa."

Remus then sharply turned away from Snape and walked out of the dungeon. As he exited through the door, he said over his shoulder, "That is the truth of the beast, Severus. Intention."