Well, next installment. I feel very much inclined to just killing off Sabina and Ruth and be done with it all, but I've calculated that I need about seven or eight more chapters to end this coming summer, before the movie of PoA, so I can't kill them - yet. Besides, it's a bit mean, don't you think, to kill off people if you don't know what else to do with them, no?
Quote's from X-men 2 (with Sir Ian McKellen, yay!). I realised yesterday that it didn't have anything to do with the story, but then I couldn't be bothered finding another one.
Here we go!

End of March, 1995.
"Have you tried… not being a mutant?"
* * * * *
You're right about the names ending on –y. 'Blacky'. I'd sound like a horse. Yuck. Bad idea.
You're also right about the fact that we should meet (I do agree quite a lot with you in this letter!).There are loads of questions I have to ask you but can't ask in a letter. Come over to Hogsmeade whenever you can. I have nothing better to do, so you can come whenever suits you best.
Send a reply as soon as possible.
Padfoot.
* * * * *
"Yes, yes, here it is, don't be impatient." Remus set the plate with left-overs in front of Monster, who immediately tucked in (as far as 'tucking in' is possible for an animal the size of a tennis ball). He then sat himself down at his kitchen table and opened Sirius' newest letter – he hadn't had time to read it yet.
The message was short and pretty straight-forward. Replying was a little more difficult, however. It wasn't a matter of not having time, it was more a matter of choosing the right time. Coming week would be impossible, because it was going to be a full moon in a week. He finally settled for the Wednesday in two weeks.
When he tied the letter to the paw of the owl Sirius had used, he accidentally scratched it with his nails. The owl hooted indignantly and tried to peck him.
"Sorry," he said. "I know they're long, I can't help it." The owl huffed, glared at him with round, yellow eyes, spread its wings and took off through the window.
Remus got to his feet, putting his hand on the table to push himself up. His nails ticked audibly on the table. It was true, they were too long. When he heard the ticking, he clenched his fist in irritation but let go when he felt the sharp sting of his nails. He sighed and went into the living room, to find a pair of nail scissors, to cut his nails once more.
It was one of the side-effects of the relaxation excersises he did. Even though he had never experienced one of those sudden 'ripples' again, the wolf in him had apparently understood that the defences were – partially – down, and that became clear in Remus' physical appearance. Especially with the full moon only a few days away, he sometimes looked as if he was in the first stage of Changing when he came out of bed at morning. He was lucky that it were only the relatively minor symptoms he was suffering, it wasn't as if his teeth had grown to an uncomfortable length, or that his bones had started breaking. But he did grow an almost full beard in one day, he had began shaving the bridge of his nose again, and his nails grew long, sharp and red.
He found his nail scissors and began cutting, throwing the small half-moons of nail in the waste bin. He'd almost wonder what use it was, they'd probably have grown back by tomorrow, but he had another meeting with the 'nature-group' again, and he might as well keep up appearances if he was going outside and meet other people. Least he'd attract attention, the least he'd be stared at or even avoided.

It was an idle hope, however. Despite shaving his face and the bridge of his nose and despite wearing a shirt with long sleeves, there was no concealing that his hands had got considerably hairier as well, not to mention the fact that his nails looked as if he was wearing nail-polish. No wonder the waitress stared at him when she handed him his plate.
They had made a habit out of meeting in restaurants or little bars. Remus had this sneaky feeling that the others did it out of… friendliness, to give him a free meal. Even though it looked oddly much like charity, something he'd sworn never to accept, he was not one to look a gift horse in the mouth, so he swallowed his pride along with the food. Had he been forced to stand in line waiting for bad food from a soup kitchen it would have been a whole different matter.
And so he accepted the plate that was handed him with a curt nod, ignoring the look on the waitress's face. She quickly handed the other plates round and left, casting one final look over her shoulder. It wasn't until she was well away that Fay raised her head again.
The sight of her face had been a shock to Remus, even to him. He had got quite used to his own appearance, but it had been rather unnerving when he saw her again. Apart from the fact that her eyes had a lot more yellow and her nails were red as well, her face was covered with a soft pale-blond fur, the same colour as her hair. Her hands were covered with fur as well, and it looked as if she was wearing gloves. A very strange kind of gloves.
Her parents acted uncomfortable, most likely because this was an unexpected happening. They tried to behave normally but Remus couldn't help but notice a certain stiffness when they were talking to him. Fay's unusual shyness towards him seemed influenced by this, and at first she'd not dared to raise her head to look up, in fear that people would stare and laugh.
Remus, on the other hand, was of the opinion that if something couldn't be helped, you might as well laugh at it, and the first thing he'd asked her was if she had forgotten to shave this morning. She had glanced up shyly through her hair, to see if he was serious, and a broad smile had appeared on her face when she saw he was only joking. She remained reluctant to show her face to others, however.
They wished each other a "bon appetite" and tucked in. For several minutes, all that could be heard was the tinkling of cutlery and the talking of the other people in the restaurant. Remus stayed focussed on his plate – if the others wanted to talk, he'd talk, if not; no problem, but he wasn't going to start a conversation.
It wasn't until they'd finished desert that Sabina finally wiped her mouth with her napkin and scraped her throat. Remus looked up, but she immediately avoided his eyes and then looked back, pretending not to have done it.
Mr and Mrs Mills might have been shocked by the sudden change in their daughter, Sabina and Ruth had been even more shocked. This was after all the first time they'd met a werewolf, and looking at one who seemed stuck in the first stage of Changing for a few hours was rather unnerving. Especially Fay, who appeared double unnatural – at least they were used to men having facial hair (but maybe not if they looked like their razor broke a couple of days ago and they hadn't had time to buy a new one).
"Uhm, okay, how are things going?" she asked nervously.
Remus really had to fight a sarcastic comment back. Only by constantly telling himself that they really didn't know any better, he kept himself from sneering that 'obviously, things couldn't be better' and that he'd always wanted to look like a cross between the Wolf Man and a vagabond with nail polish. He resisted the urge, however, and instead just said, albeit rather shortly, that so far it didn't look too good.
"Well, it's a somewhat… it's only theoretical, I mean…" Ruth stuttered quietly. "I'm sure things will get better, eventually. It's just… you probably have to get used to it."
Remus looked sceptical. Fay's parents, on the other hand, were hopefully absorbing (that was exactly the right word for it) ever word. It was painful to watch, especially since Remus knew very well that the chances of him and Fay actually getting cured were very slim.
He wasn't really sure why he walked up with them afterwards. It just so happened that the train station and their parked car were on the same route.
Fay had put the hood of her coat up and her hands tucked in her pockets. Remus was inclined to do the same when he saw a woman looking foully at him and actually stepping aside when he passed her, but he decided to hold his head high. It was easier said than done though. People continued to look at him as if he was something dirty. He started wishing his clothes weren't so tattered.
"Mum?" came Fay's soft voice. "Hey, mum?"
"What is it, dear?" her mother asked, kinder than Remus had seen her this day.
"Do I have to go back to school now?" Fay wanted to know.
"Well, not just yet," Mrs Mills said carefully. "Maybe next week. We'll see what happens then." When the full moon has passed – though she didn't say that, Remus understood it nonetheless.
"You got free from school?" he asked, pulling her hood further over her face. "What for? You're not ill, are you?"
Fay gave him an impressive glare and didn't lower herself to answer. That was answer enough.
"Sorry," he said. "Bad joke. But I bet the Wolfsbane Potion will make me ill. Disgusting stuff, don't you think? At least it keeps me from wrecking my house, that's the only good point."
It was really unbelievable. Remus had expected everything except three amazed looks that clearly showed a lack of understanding. Oh Merlin, they have to be kidding, he thought. Then Mr Mills voiced exactly that what he was afraid of.
"What potion?"
Remus could just keep his jaw from dropping and his hand from slapping his forehead. Instead, he asked: "what did they tell you at the Werewolf Registry, exactly?"
"Nothing, apparently," Mrs Mills said. Her voice had an urgent tone to it. "What potion?"
"I can't believe they didn't tell you," Remus sighed. "That's just – there is no word for it. Let's sit down a minute, there's rather much you need to know." He gestured to the small park nearby. The three adults sat themselves down on a bench while Fay, the hood still drawn as far over her head as possible, leaned against the back rest, eyes fixed on Remus, drinking in every word.

He began with a short, quick recap of the invention of the Wolfsbane Potion. Having been, at one stage, directly involved in the process, he knew a lot first-hand, so he could give a detailed account. He mentioned the advantages of course – the main one being that Fay wouldn't attempt to eat her parents anymore – but made a point of stressing the disadvantages: the foul taste of the potion, the fact that drinking too much could poison her, and the fact that she would remain her human consciousness throughout everything – including the immensely painful transformation. Remus wanted them to be completely aware of what they were offered. It would be all the more bitter if they were expecting some kind of wonder potion and only got more pain. Because that was what the Wolfsbane Potion gave as well, besides control over the Wolf: it made the Transformation more painful because the person drinking it was more aware of it, the Wolf didn't block him out half-way through. But for Remus, the advantages had outweighed the disadvantages. He hoped that Fay's parents would choose the right option and not the safest one.
After his story, the three others were silent for a few moments, lost in thoughts. The wind suddenly rustling through the trees made Fay look up and she smiled when she saw a group of birds take flight from the branch they had been sitting up. With her yellow eyes and soft white fur she seemed almost cat-like, were it not for the white wolfish teeth she bared when she smiled.
"What do you think?" Remus asked her. He started her, and she quickly drew her head back in her hood. She smiled shyly but didn't give an answer.
"Where can we get this potion?" Mr Mills asked instead.
"That seems to be a bit of a problem," Remus answered. "I would've thought that the Registry would inform you of these things, and I can't imagine why they didn't."
"But you have it," Mrs Mills said. "Where do you get it then?"
Remus smiled, albeit a bit wryly. "I have connections, apparently. The Potions Master of Hogwarts, Snape, makes it for me and sends it to me every month. The Potion appears to be rather difficult, and potion-brewing has never been my strongest point."
"Will he make it for me as well?" Fay asked the question her parents wanted to know.
"Probably, if I ask him really nicely," Remus told her. And give my head on a platter and grovel a bit and all that, he added mentally. But it was worth a try – and else he could always childishly go to Dumbledore and tell on Snape. Yuck, how old am I? Five?
"But only if you really want me to," he added, turning to her parents. "I can't remind you enough of the disadvantages. This potion has in fact only one good thing – and for me it rules out all the bad things. But I want you to be absolutely certain of it."
Mr and Mrs Mills seemed to do that silent talking-thing Remus' own parents were so good at and which he never seemed to have got the hang of. But maybe you need to be married to be able to do it.
Mrs Mills eventually nodded. "Yes," she said. "We'll do it."

When he got home, Remus immediately took out a quill and a piece of parchment. He would get the Wolfsbane Potion the next day, and it took an owl a few hours to get up to Scotland and back. He had no time to waste.
He hastily wrote a few words down, explaining the situation and describing Fay (he had this feeling that a ten year old girl wouldn't need the same dose of Wolfsbane as a thirty-five year old man), then he folded the parchment double and sealed it, not bothering himself with looking for an envelope. It wasn't the first time he wished Hogwarts had a telephone connection. Of course, he could use Floo Powder to talk to Snape through the fire, but he hated that way of talking and he didn't want to have to look up at Snape either.
He walked outside, to the garden shed, where his owl was dozing, waiting for the night to come. The small bird had been a birthday gift from his parents, and it wasn't until he had got it that he realised how useful an owl was. He woke the bird up and tied the letter to its paw. The owl blinked sleepily and hooted but didn't object. Remus walked into the garden again and the bird set off, soaring soundlessly into the sky and out of sight. Remus himself walked inside again. All he could do now was sit and wait for an answer.
It arrived the next day. The envelope was ticker than he would have expected. He ripped the seal open and took out the letter.
Lupin, it said in the expected black scrawl.
What do I look like, a blood Wolfsbane factory? Perhaps it hasn't occurred to you that I might have other, more important things to do than jump to your wishes and make potions for every random person you encounter? Stop bothering me.
S. Snape.
Enclosed in the envelope was a folded piece of parchment with the recipe for the Wolfsbane Potion and a description of the doses and the way it should be taken, and tied to it were two flasks instead of the usual one…
~*~
Sirius would never have guessed that one day he would look more forward to a letter from Harry than one from Remus. Not because Harry's letters were more exciting, far from that actually, but because the boy had taken to sending regular packages of food. And being able to simply take it from the table or even from the Hogwarts kitchen, those packages were bigger than the ones Remus used to send.
Sirius sat on a rock outside his cave, bathing in the warm sun. Chances of people seeing him were very small, so he could relax and close his eyes. He had seen the insides of his cave way too much, and he was happy that the weather had started to improve so that he could get out more often. Buckbeak seemed to like it as well – at least the two of them weren't confined to each other's company anymore.
He opened his eyes again just in time to see an owl soaring towards him. He jumped to his feet, excitedly, but immediately sunk down again when he saw that the animal was only carrying a letter and no package.
The bird dropped the letter in front of him and landed on a nearby rock, hooting softly. This alone was enough to tell Sirius that the letter was from Dumbledore – the Headmaster always wanted an immediate reply. Sirius sighed, picked up the letter and broke the seal.
The letter was short and matter-of-factly. Nothing really interesting had happened, as far as Dumbledore knew everything was fine with Harry, and concerning the wand Sirius had asked for: he had talked to Mr Olivander about it, but the matter seemed more complicated than one would think. There was this tricky thing that the Ministry had every wand registered, and people would start asking questions if Olivander sold a wand to a person named Sirius Black – after all, there weren't that many people named that.
Sirius turned the parchment around and wrote a short message on the back of the sheet. He told Dumbledore that his need for a wand wasn't thát dire, and that he shouldn't trouble himself if there were more important things. It was just that it would come in handy. He didn't ask any questions, he figured that he would pester Remus with them when he came, next week.
The owl took off not even a second after Sirius had tied the final not in the leather thong attaching the letter to the animal's paw. It soared away, leaving him alone again.
* * * * *
Horse? I like horses. Pity they don't like me.
Meeting sounds excellent (wait a minute, it was my idea! Of course it sounds excellent to me!). Due to a date with Lady Luna I won't have time coming week, but the week after that seems perfect. I'll be in Hogsmeade's main street on Wednesday, around twelve o'clock, waiting for you. I'll see you then, I hope.
Moony.