Remus looked towards the ground, lowering his head against the wind. It had torn at his clothes viciously for the last eight miles; his already worn robes were being literally shredded. His lips trembled a little as though he were about to burst into tears, which he was truly on the brink of. He was tired, afraid and broken.

It was but two days since he left Hogwarts, the night before existing as a dream. Remus tried to recall all the details, tried to hold in his mind how Sirius had looked and felt but as so many dreams it slipped away. Just when he seemed to have the perfect memory it liquefied, fell into the unreachable and forbidden parts of his mind.

He had spent some of his wages paying for his luggage to be sent on to an address where he could pick it up later, the home of a cousin who he barely knew. He was calling in a favour, having ridded the cousin's home of some troublesome creatures once and received no payment. Steadily Remus worked his way south, though in only two days he had not got very far. Just past the boarder of Scotland. His legs were beginning to feel strange beneath him, they didn't feel solid or like they were moving in any way that he was used to. It was only five days from a full moon and he would have been weary had he been resting all this time.

Wizard inns could be discerned easily. They were not visible to muggles, but there were smaller subtle signs for wizards to recognise. Somewhere upon the inn would hang, or stand, a cauldron. Also, muggle inns could rarely be smelled from the outside. In the magical world a strange odour hung over the builder, the bitter sweet scent of alcohol.

Remus lifted his head to look at the building. Despite his travelling look; windswept hair, 2 day old stubble, mud splattered robes he did not present an unattractive or intimidating figure. His hair was long enough to cover his eyes, a golden colour of blond shot through with grey. This did not age him, but rather made that which was young about him more pronounced, it showed years of stress. His lips were full, a blushed bloody colour that suited his rather sensitive complexion. His eyes were a yellowy shade of brown that made them look like honey, bright however weary his expression was. 

He had no idea that behind him, merely a few feet was a large dog that looked suspiciously like a grim. In the dog's eyes was an intelligence that was on the whole absent from all other creatures of his kind. This dog was not an animal at all…