PART II:

Chapter 13: The path of good intentions

The wolf lay panting behind the strong steel door. A night of throwing itself against it had battered and bruised his body. Even more frustrating was the smell of prey so close on the other side.

'Nothing to eat,' it raged scratching its own foot. Now too exhausted, it lay against the wall and whimpered .

Sunlight filtered in. 'NO…'

'Back again,' Remus thought. The wolf had retreated the far corner where he had been a minute before. Waiting, as he had waited. His body was aching all over. A faint click and the strong steel door opened.

Revera walked in swiftly, her pale blue dressing gown streaming behind her. She looked rather pale.

"It seems to be worse this time," she rambled. "I brought you some breakfast." Her hands shook as she set the tray down. "Accio, tray!"

Remus just shook his head. "I don't feel like eating…did anyone hear me..it?

No, of course not," Revera replied. "Have you forgotten, this room is sound-proof. Pa – he built it and put a spell on it."

It had been such a long time since he was here. He had forgotten.

"Here," Revera pointed her wand at his leg. "Coagulatus." The deep scratch stopped bleeding.

"Thanks," he said. "I am so tired." His head dropped back. "Does Mama want to see me?"

"She's not well either," Revera said. "You should eat."

He reached for the mug of milk not wanting to argue further. "Alright." He patted her hand. "You don't have to look so sad."

"I can't help it," Revera burst out. She hadn't seen her brother transform in years. Their mother usually made sure she stayed well out of the way. Revera half-wished she didn't take advantage of her mother's indisposition to keep awake outside the room and peek through the peephole.

"Here," she dug in the pockets of her robes instead. "This came for you last night. From Sirius, I think, at least, the Grim brought it." Sirius had named his perpetually cross-looking owl after the omen of death.

Remus reached for the letter eagerly. He hadn't heard a word from Sirius since the night of the dance after he had obtained Dumbledore's permission to leave for his uncle's funeral. The 3 Marauders had packed his things up and sent them after him the next day.

Dear Moony,

Thanks for sending all my school stuff. I'd have written before this but things have been pretty hectic here. I'm staying with a cousin, Andromeda Tonks, down in London, at the moment. My mother wouldn't set foot in her house because she married a Muggle-born, so I'm quite comfortable. It was quite a job staying out of her way during the funeral. I half-expected her to curse me once my back is turned. I don't know why she bothered coming. She had always said Uncle Alphard had no proper wizarding pride.

Anyway, as it turned out, he left me quite a pile of gold. Bet Mummy dearest loved that. Uncle Alphard was always a jolly good sort. I don't know how he died and no one wants to talk about it but I can't seem to bring myself to care enough to find out. Let the poor man rest in peace after being a Black for so many years.

And so-I can afford a place of my own now. Not the way I'd have wished for it but still…Prongs and his parents came down to London to help me look for a suitable place. You'll come once I've settled in, won't you? If your mother gives you problems, I'll drop by and persuade her.

Cheers,

Padfoot

P.S. I wrote to Peter two days ago but he hasn't replied yet. Tell your sister the Letter Aider quill didn't work.

Remus felt much better after reading this epistle, remembering how Sirius had convinced his mother to let him watch a Quidditch World Cup mathc in Luxembourg a year ago. They hadn't even learnt to Disapparate yet, which meant they had to travel by Portkey two weeks in advance. It was one of the few times when he felt that he didn't have to hide.

Revera looked relieved to see him perk up. "Good news?"

"Great," he smiled back. "Sirius' getting his own place. I'll be going down there soon, I guess."

Revera began to clear the breakfast tray. "That's nice. Scourgify." The remains of the meal disappeared.

Remus glanced at her. "Whats wrong?"

"Nothing," she said. Then she faced him. "You've only been home a week. Mama is not going to be happy when you rush off again so soon. "

"Mama's never happy when I'm away," he replied. "Doesn't matter when or where. There's something else, isn't there?"

Revera's shoulders slumped. "I don't suppose I'd see Sirius again." Her chin trembled.

A headache began to pound the back of Remus' head. "You…ah…fancy him then?"

"No," she denied, in a half-sob. "I've just …gotten used to seeing him around. And he thinks I am just a little girl. "

Remus forbore from pointing out that was exactly what she was.

"You really should go up and rest," Revera said, already mildly embarrassed by her outburst.

Remus searched for the right thing to say. "Vera…"

"I'll just put this back in the kitchen," she said quickly.

10 years ago, Sylvia's Lupin's life could have been described as perfect. Wife to a respectable, well-off wizard, devoted mother of two lovely children. Within a decade, her son had turned into a werewolf, her husband had gone off to live with a Muggle and the business they ran together collapsed. If she was prone to nervous spells, Remus did not blame her in the least.

They simply learned household spells when house elves had to be sold off and ran the house on a small budget during the holidays. There was no point, Remus reasoned, for them to take to their beds as well.

It was close to twilight before Remus dragged himself up to his mother's room.

"Hello, Mama," he said, pausing at the doorway.

Propped up by pillows in the white downy bed, she turned at the sound of his voice.

"Remus, dear," Sylvia greeted her son. "Are you alright? You look so pale."

His mother would persist in speaking as if his condition is reversible and ordinary. He tried to smile. "I am fine," he replied. "Thank you." He wasn't sure why he felt so compelled to be formal to his mother. "I hope you are feeling better?"

She merely shook her head. " This dyspepsia will be the death of me."

Remus made the expected soothing noises automatically. He knew the routine well; his mother would profess absolute indisposition somewhere in the beginning of the holidays, suggest a rest at her wealthy parents' mansion where they would stay for the rest of the holidays and leave with enough gold for the rest of the year. It only left him with the increasingly disquieting conviction that one should never depend on others to live.

"Your grandmother was just asking about you the other day," she said.

'Right on cue,' Remus thought.

"We should go down to see her. She seems rather lonely," she continued.

'Not with a array of house elves and a constant battalion of relatives.' He did not speak the thought aloud. Still, he could not have asked her for a better opening for what he wanted to discuss.

"I am not sure I should go this time, mother," he began, lacing his fingers together. "I should probably start looking for a job."

"You already have one," Sylvia said swiftly. She sat up so abruptly, one of her pillows bounced off the floor.

He took a deep breath. "I would rather not live off the family money."

"Do you?" she said cuttingly. "I noticed you didn't mind when your grandmother sponsored your educational expenses. And all the potions to help in …"

"I'll pay it all back –"

"With what? No one would employ you once they know what you are and you know it."

Her words stung but he faced his mother unflinchingly.

"I am no writer, Mama, and I'd be hopeless at looking for f…I mean, unusual stories. I'd like to earn a place by my own merit. Even if, " he hesitated before plunging on, "I have to be poor for the rest of my life."

Sylvia reached for a tissue as her eyes filled. "I just want you to be safe." She gulped. "The world is not a kind place."

For a moment, Remus felt almost sorry for her. She had taken the easy way out for so long, it seemed almost impossible for her to contemplate anyone facing difficulties for the sake of ideals. For his mother, to care is to protect from challenges in life. He could let the flood of tears and concern swamp him. The easiest way to make the people who love you happy was to do what they think was best for you. The path of good intentions.

In the end, all he could say was "I know," before a loud thump followed by a screech of tires outside th window interrupted them . Sylvia fell back clutching her heart.

Sirius appeared in the room with a loud 'pop', handsomely rumpled as usual.

"I thought you would be upstairs, Moo—" he started to say. He took in Mrs Lupin's red-rimmed eyes and beribboned four poster bed as well as Remus' rigid stance. "Er. I must have gotten the wrong room. Not quite used to Apprating yet, as you can see. How are you, Mrs Lupin?"

Remus fought back a laugh. "Mother, you have met Sirius Black."

p.s Very sorry for the long break. Wouldn't be surprised if no one reads this but to those who are …thanks for sticking on..