"Let me see your arm." Remus said.

She answered with that same teasing, sharp smile, but she slowly uncurled her arm and opened her palm. He roughly shoved the sleeve of her dress almost to her shoulder, but the white skin was unmarked.

"There is more than good and evil in this world," Persephone said.

"I wouldn't want to guess what you are," he replied.

"Do you believe me?"

"It's not like I haven't heard of the dead returning," Remus said, "It's just that it's not usually a good thing."

Persephone laughed. "There is a price, of course. There is always a price. But I think you'd be willing to pay it." She clasped his hand with a strength that belied her small stature. "Are you willing, Remus?"

He didn't bother asking how she knew his name; he was sure that she'd been following him for some time.

Nor did he ask what the price was; he couldn't imagine one he would not have been willing to pay.

He did not defer to his inebriated condition. Temptation was temptation, and he couldn't refuse.

"I'm willing," he told her.

+

She didn't immediately release his hand. Instead, she held it in both of hers, tracing old scars from nights spent running under a pale, full moon.

"Blood, flesh, and bone," she murmured, "You understand, I'm sure."

"I'd expect nothing less," he said.

She held up his hand, staring at his fingers in the flickering candlelight. "You were his lover. Now that's interesting. And it will make it easier; it can all come from the same place." She led him to a large iron cauldron in the corner of the room -- "Wait here" -- and slipped back into the kitchen.

He understood, in a dull, half-drunken sort of way, what was expected of him. He didn't flinch, not even when he saw that the knife she carried when she returned was made of silver. What was his own life now, after all?

"Hold out your hand," Persephone said. He obeyed, and she stared at his fingers. "Did you know," she said, "That it was once believed that a vein in the left ring finger flowed directly into the heart? That's why Muggles wear their wedding bands on that finger. Isn't that interesting?"

"Quite," Remus said.

"Now, hold still," she told him.

It took three blows for her little silver knife to sever the ring finger on his left hand. It didn't even hurt, not at first. On the first strike, she said, "Flesh of a lover." On the second, she said, "Blood of a lover." On the third, "Bone of a lover," and his finger was somehow no longer on his hand, somewhere inside the cauldron, gone forever.

Forever.

Remus howled in pain, staggering away from the woman and her accursed cauldron. Cradling his injured hand against his chest, he slammed against the wall and slid to the ground. He could feel the silver spike through his veins, bearing death as it traced its way towards his heart, and he closed his eyes, waiting for the end.

He could feel Persephone beside him, wrapping something around his hand. "There, there," she scolded, "You're not dying, Remus. Just keep the pressure on, and the bleeding will stop, eventually."

He could barely breathe through the pain, but he forced his eyes to open. She was holding a white cloth -- already stained red -- against his maimed hand. And she wasn't lying -- the brief contact with silver wouldn't kill him, he wasn't dying. Remus smiled grimly and asked, "What now?"

"Now," she said, "You go home. You can use my fireplace, if you'd like. Should one of your friends inquire, tell them that you hurt yourself while out running in wolf form. But I doubt your friends will be by tonight."

"And then?" he asked.

"Tomorrow," Persephone said, "You come see me."

+

The bleeding had slowed to a sluggish crawl by the time Remus stumbled out of his own fireplace and onto the dusty boards of his shack. The pain was no less, though, a constant, throbbing ache that reminded him of its presence with every heartbeat. Too exhausted to undress, he collapsed on his bed and fell asleep.

He dreamt that Sirius was sitting at the foot of his bed, a faint, silver form with no more substance than Nearly-Headless Nick. Remus reached out to him, his hand still dripping blood, but Sirius was just out of reach.