4.

Remus' point of view

Let us look at it from Remus' point of view next.

He was well over forty years old. Traditionally, that meant he should be old enough to be wise. Wiser than to believe that a person such as himself, burdened as he was with his lycanthropy, should want to settle down and have a relationship. Not that he didn't want one...oh, he had always desired the simple pleasures of life.

It was just that he was so serious sometimes, even in his marauding days, that most girls, and later women, did not realise that he was really a man. Really a man, that is , in the sense of being an attractive prospect. Or at least that is why he believed that they avoided him. Or at least it seemed to him as though they avoided him. None of them knew about his...secret. Thus, it had to be some other factor that kept them away.

He understood that to have a relationship, he would probably have to eventually let the female half of the couple in on his secret. It wasn't something you could hide. It was rather obvious. But was there a woman out there that wouldn't mind the fact that once a month he grew copious amounts of teeth and hair and tried to eat her? Someone with a sense of humor...who could laugh it off?

Maybe someone who knew already about his secret. Someone wise, and clever, and level headed...someone kind. Maybe even with chestnut colored hair.

And brown eyes.

Then he would kick himself. Brown eyes? Where did that come from? He preferred blondes...didn't he? He was sure he always had. Petite blondes... with round green eyes?

He had tried going out with Harry and Ron on a few of their ' excursions ', and once he had gone with Bill Weasley, exploring some of the less fashionable places of repute, but he had always left alone, feeling a bit soiled. None of the women there were anything like what he had come to feel he needed. He could not explain why he suddenly felt as though he needed someone, when for years he had been satisfied to simply' roam wild', as Sirius might say.

Maybe that was it. Sirius was gone.

Dead.

Not in prison, but dead. And Peter Pettigrew was turned traitor...James and Lily were gone...

Remus had none of of his old friends to comfort him...and his young friends were..well, young. With friends of there own. Even Tonks. They all had healthy normal lives and friendships, and adventures of their own.

He was lonely.

Of course he had told herself...often, that he did not need love.

But he didn't really believe himself. He might have said he was too old, or at least too weary to even feel desire. But then there was that feeling. Whenever she came into the room

She was the cleverest witch he knew. She had figured out his secret long before anyone else. Yes, Snape's meddling had given her the clue, but to her credit, she had kept it a secret, and had forgiven him for it as soon a she realized that he was not actually a murderer, or one of Voldemorte's followers.

Voldemorte. He sighed. Yes...How could someone think of love when there was the Dark Lord, and his evil followers, just waiting to take over the world?

And what if there was a battle? What if he loved someone, and they were killed. What if he died?

The thought made him sad...almost depressed, and for a reason he could not explain. What if he were found out? Somewhere out there, someone might decide a werewolf might make a terrific trophy...

And that was why he could not, would not admit that he loved anyone. Not even her.

Well, of course not her!

Even though she was pretty, and bright, and kind...When he was in her company, he always felt as though he had known her for years. All of his life, it seemed. She seemed so much more mature than most adults his own age.

That is all that he felt for her, a general fondness. A pride that she was able to grow up so well, leaving behind the bossy, know-it-all persona of her childhood. She had become sophisticated, and calm...now that she no longer felt the need to prove herself to her peers. Yes...he only felt pride and fondness for her.

That little tickle of excitement just under his breastbone? That was nothing.

The fact that he sometimes caught himself watching her, only to be embarrassed or scared that someone might come in and catch him.? He was just tired and distracted. Concerned for her, he told himself...concerned over her solemnity, and the fact that sometimes she seemed so preoccupied by things. Perhaps there was something bothering her?

Sometimes he had almost tripped on his own tongue, and stuttered around, after being nearly caught. He was embarrassed, because he had always been the smooth one, and now it seemed as though he were particularly flustered. Or at least he was sure that it must seem that way to the other's.

But he had recovered his suavity after each mishap, reassuring himself that no one had, as yet misinterpreted his behavior.

No one had thought he was acting oddly...

Except for that day that Bill had told him that he looked like man that was fighting a losing battle with himself. But that was because of the approaching moon.

And there had been that day when Snape had caught him staring into space ( a space previously occupied by Hermione ) and had raised a brow at him, asking him, almost cattily, whether or not he needed a potion against catatonia. That was just Snape... being funny.

Other than those episodes, he had managed quite well...no one had noticed him. Not that there was anything to notice, of course. ( Except that near disastrous slip of the tongue when he had told everyone that he had told Hermione 'hello' when he was coming.) It had sounded so painfully wrong to his own ears, after it was uttered, but miraculously, he had escaped being teased for it.

So there was nothing to worry about...or was there?...