Title: Entre Chien et Loup (At Dusk)
Part: 2: Un Coup de Foudre
Author: Ryuu-ACey
Archive: Azkaban's Lair, wherever (if you ask, I'll probably say yes)
Summary: Albus Dumbledore revives the Triwizard Tournament in the time of Voldemort's first rising, and sparks fly when werewolf Remus Lupin finds himself snout-to-snout with illegal Animagus Sirius Black, his best friend, and the Tournament itself.
Spoilers: Er...Through GoF, I think, although there might be bits of OotP.
Rating: R (language, mature themes)
Disclaimer: The boys aren't mine. Technically, one of the girls isn't mine. About the only thing in here that's mine are one-and-a-half characters, and the plot. The characters and world belong to JK and Scholastic and...Warner Brothers? I really don't know, but hope they'll be cool about me taking the kids out to play.
Originally posted: Fanfiction dot net.
Notes: This started simpler than even the prologue turned out to be. I was thinking about how I've seen fics where Remus is portrayed as French, for some unfathomable reason, and I thought--so what if he went to Beauxbatons? The next thing I know, I've got Sirius making friends with a shy, trying-to-be-uncaring but really adorable 11-year-old Severus Snape, Remus becoming and Animagus, and, for a reason I still don't quite understand, elves (it's not exactly a glaring thing, I hope; they just snuck in there, because, frankly, elves rock. Even Pratchett's elves, which are freaky). So this is an AU. This is a twist-the-world-on-its-edge AU. I hope. And I hope you enjoy.
About the Title: It's a terrible French pun, because, of course, it literally means "between dog and wolf", but it's an idiom, and I found it irresistible.
Warnings: Language, discussion of mature themes, (possibly) eventual "action" of some sort.
Dedications: samvimes, because Stealing Harry made me love the fandom again, and made me want to do something big again.
Feedback: Always appreciated.

The other boys had gone to sleep; their light snoring was dampened by the enchanted tapestries on the walls, but the noise was still there. Severus stared up at the canopy of his bed, unable to sleep.

Quite suddenly, his curtains were shoved aside long enough to admit one Sirius Black, who crawled onto the bed, dressed in black pajamas.

"Sirius, what are you doing?" Severus demanded as he sat up. "What if one of the others saw? What would they think?"

"First," Sirius said, twirling his wand cockily about, "They're not going to see anything; I've set a Narcolapse Charm about the place. Second, sod what they think. I know where I stand with you, and if anyone else wants to complain about it, they'll find themselves at the wrong end of a conflict with a Black." He flashed his best friend a grin. "I wasn't about to let you get off easy, Snape. I saw you talking to that boy. Who is he? What did you say to him? Am I finally losing you to a chap who's more attractive than me?"

Severus glared; he was quite good at it. But then there was a quiet 'whuff', and a large black dog, looking something like a small bear, was sitting on Severus' bed, looking at him with soulful black eyes that said, 'I only want to help'. Severus briefly wondered what gave Sirius the ability to be more expressive when he lost the use of his vocal cords.

He sighed.

"Very well. If you insist on pestering me...His name is Remus Dautry. He's studying Defense, like you. He wants to become an Ecour, sort of a French Auror. He's abominable at Potions, is fascinated with History, and I asked him if he'd like me to show him around the Library."

"...Well?"

"Well what?" Remus didn't look up from the book on vampires he'd picked up in the train station. Yvonne placed a finger on his forehead, and tilted the werewolf's face up so that he was looking at her.

"Who was that boy who was talking to you? The one who wanted to know if you liked Potions, what you wanted to do for a living...whether you wanted to go to the Library with him." Remus' face turned a bright red; sputtering, he jerked back away from Yvonne, overturned his chair, and landed with an inelegant sprawl over the silver-and-blue rug that covered the common room's floor. Yvonne hopped onto the overturned chair and looked down at her friend, perched on the top of it like some tall, gangly bird surveying its territory.

"He didn't mean it like that, Yvonne! Besides, how did you hear that? You were across the room!"

Yvonne tapped her pointed ears meaningfully. "These aren't just for show, Moony. It's a well-known fact that elves have hearing superior to that of humans."

"It's also a well-known fact that werewolves mate for life," Remus retorted. "However, research has disproved both of those so-called 'facts.' You spied on me, didn't you?"

"It's not Yvonne's fault, Moony," a silky voice whispered into his ear. "It's just that I was worried that some suave British boy was taking advantage of you, and as you know, I'm terrible at that Lip-Reading Charm, so I asked Yvonne to make sure you weren't being flirted with, or worse, seduced." Solange stretched across the rug next to Remus, grinning at the other boy. "And it looks like that Slytherin boy is trying to get into your pants. I'd advise you talk to Madam Maxime about it. Who knows what he wants to do with you." Remus gave the two a wary look, and saw the same curious expression on both faces.

"I told you before, I'm not going to let some boy have his way with me just so you two can hear what it's like. Aren't there books or something on that?"

"Mr. Lupin!" Solange snapped, "We are ladies! We would never dream of reading books like that."

"Besides," Remus muttered, cheeks still tinted red, "What about you? Every boy there was staring at you like they wanted you to meet them in the Astronomy Tower." Solange huffed, pushing herself into a sit, and then slumped forward, letting her chin rest of her hands.

"That's lust. That's my natural--" There was a snort from Yvonne. "Supernatural charms at work. It's like...Like you and Quidditch, Remus. Your body and reflexes are made for chasing small, fast things down. It's the same with me and boys. They swoon, I listen to them brag at me for an hour, and I'm still lonely."

"You know, one out of a thousand wizards is immune to the charms of the veela," Yvonne said from her perch. "They're offered huge sums of money to help small, German villages deal with veela sitting on rocks in the middle of turbulent rivers sending men to their dooms."

"I don't see how that helps me," Solange replied. "It still means I've either got to find one of these one-in-a-thousand to still decide I'm worth fighting over, or go over to girls." Remus began coughing violently.

"Oh, that'd be an irony," Yvonne drawled. "I can picture you walking into a bar, have half the man drooling over you, and you walking over to some mousy little thing in the corner and asking if she wants to dance."

"But I think someone has almost successfully managed to divert our conversation from its original topic," Solange said. She tapped Remus' nose sharply, causing the boy to wrinkle his face for a second. "Who exactly was the boy who's trying to get into your robes?"

"He's not!" Remus protested. "He's just trying to be friendly."

"Not likely," Yvonne replied. "I saw him yell at a first-year for tripping over her own robes on the stairs. Said she ought to be more careful when she's wandering about the castle that other people use. And I don't think his house-mates like him much; only that one boy seemed willing to talk to him."

"Hm?" Remus asked.

"The handsome one with the ponytail," Yvonne said. "Looks like a Muggle biker."

"Really? I'd imagine him the glam rock type," Solange said, "You know, glitter, makeup...glitter."

Yvonne chuckled. "Really, Sola, you'd make a better impression if you actually knew what you were talking about. Right, Moony?" Moony didn't respond. Yvonne peered at him, and noticed a faint blush on his cheeks. "What's wrong, Moony?" Moony shook his head violently, rose to his feet, and hurried towards the entrance to the guest dormitories the Beauxbatons students had received. Solange stood to follow, but Remus let out a sharp growl, one that clearly indicated a desire to be left alone, so she sat back down, watching as the wall at the end of the passage rotated, briefly revealing a bust of Morgana Le Fey as Remus was spun about into the main hall.

Yvonne dropped onto the rug next to Solange, a small frown on her lips. "You think we did that?"

"Ah, who cares? He just looks like he needs to work off some...aggravation." Solange added a saucy wink, and Yvonne shoved her.

"You're incorrigible, Sola."

"I know. It's part of being descended from an incarnation of lust. I think about it a lot."

There were not many philosophers who worried about werewolves, but it was generally agreed that Chuang Tzu was talking about a number of things, including, probably werewolves, when he said, "Now I do not know whether I was then a man dreaming I was a butterfly, or whether I am now a butterfly dreaming I am a man." Because for the werewolf, the question of identity became an important one.

As long as Remus remembered, he had felt a sleeping presence inside of him, one that burst forth at the full moon, raging and biting and scratching. It had sometimes overcome him with pure instinct in waking life, slowing bleeding lupine habits into his daily activity. And ever since the Animagus transformation, the wolf inside had begun speaking to Remus.

And he wondered, sometimes, whether the wolf was truly him, or if Remus was truly him, or if there was a bit of him in both, and no way of telling which might have ever been the true Remus Dautry. Or maybe once they had been separate beings, but over time, they would become more and more alike until he would no longer be a man dreaming he was a wolf or a wolf dreaming he was a man, but a consciousness that lived within a body that was man and wolf.

It was intriguing, but ultimately an academic question, because Remus and the wolf lived in harmony, and occasionally neither was quite sure who was reacting to the world.

Except now. This was Remus feeling horribly embarrassed and wanting to get away from everything. So he snuck from the castle, ran across the lawns to the Forbidden Forest, and once there, let go of human restraint and took to the forest as a beast.

His time as an Animagus had given Remus a greater insight into the wolf than being a werewolf had; werewolves tended to lose control and consciousness on the full moon, only to be returned to awareness in the aftermath of the evening. But Animagi were different; they took the shape of the animal and the mind of the human. Except that some people believed that putting your brain in a wolf's body made you think more like a wolf...that if you kept that form too long, you'd be scratching yourself and howling at the moon when you changed back.

Regardless of the risks, being a wolf gave Remus insight into the minds of animals. They didn't get distracted easily; they had goals and desires, and everything else that wasn't dangerous could go sod itself. Or something like that. The crux of it was that Animagi had a very focused sort of thought process, without a lot of room for worries and what-if's. The wolf had said that worrying about tomorrow made today unpleasant, and had left it at that. So when the image of Severus Snape's friend dressed like David Bowie had brought a flush and uncomfortable tightness to Remus, he'd decided to get out of human form to let the wolf worry about it for a while.

There were quite a lot of new scents out in the forest, so Remus calmed down the only way a lone wolf could--chasing small fluffy animals and giving them the scare of their lives.

After about an hour of running about, he paused to mark a tree (he'd tried fighting the canine instincts, but he, Solange, and Yvonne had found their animal brains insisting on some manner of marking territory, and they'd given up the argument. They had compromised with regards to their dormitories, however, by setting up complex and very unambiguous wards). When he was finished, however, he took a sniff at the area. Something smelled odd, like there was something he was missing. He sniffed again, catching several unfamiliar scents lacing the area. He smelled something that a pure wolf would have characterized as prey, another thing that smelled vaguely like the stern woman he'd only met briefly, who Madam Maxime had told him was the Transfigurations teacher. And then another scent that was both maddeningly familiar and hard to place at the same time. It smelled a little like Blackfang, but wasn't any wolf.

"Hello, chylde of the night." Moony froze. The not-bark voice had come from behind him, and he hadn't smelt anything. "Do not worry, chylde," the voice said, still in a voice that seemed preternaturally calm, "I will not harm you if you do not strike first. It is the ancient pact of our races, after all."

There was something in that voice that seemed familiar. Not like pack, but like...kinship. Remus turned, and looked up to see a pale face before the waning light of the moon. His eyes were a sharp red, like blood, and his hair dark, maybe brown or black, but with wolf's eyes it was hard to tell the difference. The man was tall, and would probably be taller than Remus' human form. He was dressed in a pair of well-worn pants, of the type some survivalists wore, and had a belt that carried a surprising variety of items on it. His shirt was dark, but seemed to be earth-colored. He was smiling at Remus, two pointed fangs brushing against his lower lip.

Remus returned to human form and looked up at the man--more of a boy, really--from all fours. He stood, making sure he met the vampire's gaze the entire time. Vampires and werewolves were both strong creatures, and so it would not do to show submission before him.

The vampire nodded at Remus. "I have not known a wolf to run these woods. Only the cat, and the stag, and the dog." He smiled again. "Nor have I known many wolves to submit to their inner spirit when the moon wanes."

"Not known...many?" Remus inquired. "Are you saying there are others?"

The vampire laughed, a high, surprisingly jovial sound. He sat on the outcropping roots of a rather large oak, and gestured for Remus to sit near him. "I've been around a while, chylde of the night. I have seen many things. Back before the wizards stole their knowledge from the world, determined to keep it hidden from the fearful eyes of Muggles, wolves were not the beasts of horror you know them as. They were a part of nature, and to be respected, as all of Her powers. Back then, if a woman were to lie with a wolf, the child born would be wolf as well, master of both worlds, and servant only to the Moon."

"And if a man were to lie with a wolf?" Remus asked.

"What wolf would submit herself to any but wolf? Surely you know, chylde of the night, that only the Alpha may breed. And if the Alpha would not have her, she would be a hunter, proud and ready to fight for the good of the pack. But those times are over, and no children of the Moon, only those like you, chylde to another wolf, one destroyed by vengeful men." The vampire smiled sadly. "The wolves are dying, you know. The Muggles seek to protect their wolves, but only the wizards have the power to revive this race. Some of my kind would object to such a thing, of course, but what are they but bitter recluses musing over their origins?" He suddenly turned to Remus. "I'm sorry; I am rambling, and have forgotten myself. Who are you, wolf?"

"Moony. Remus." Remus wrinkled his brow at his confusion, and the vampire giggled.

"Can barely tell the two apart, eh? An Animagus, are you? You are no natural-born wolf." Remus nodded; it seemed redundant to say that he was a werewolf; the vampire seemed to think 'wolf' meant the same as 'werewolf', anyways. "So, what are you doing here? You are old for a first-year."

"I'm from Beauxbatons. For the Triwizard Tournament." The vampire's left eyebrow rose.

"Impressive. I suppose Dumbledore thinks it'll help. It won't."

Remus glared at the vampire. "What do you mean?"

The vampire shrugged. "Voldemort will still rise. He hopes if he can forge bonds now, the children of today will stop it from fully becoming a nightmare. It has gone on too long to be stopped now." He looked relatively unconcerned.

"Aren't you worried?" Remus asked. The vampire shot him a toothy grin.

"Worried? About what? I've been around longer than all of Voldemort's 'Knights' put together, and I reckon even he wouldn't want to venture inside my mind. You know, Unforgivables don't work on the undead."

"Wh-what?"

The vampire laughed again. "Bet you've heard about those nasties in 'Defense' or whatever you're calling it these days. But think about it. I don't have working nerves; Crucio can't touch me. The undead are immune to charms and other compulsions. And the Killing Curse? Some lad tried that on me a few years back; I got a blinding headache for a week, but he lost three pints of blood." The vampire sat back, smugly. "There's only three things can kill a vampire: fire, sunlight, and immersion in holy water, although the last one doesn't come up much anymore. You're kind's lucky, I think. You at least get to see the sun every once in a while. There was an eclipse I wanted to see some years back, you know. Unlucky about the silver, though. You can take a Killing Curse and get off with only needing a few Aspirin, but someone serves you tea in the wrong service and you have to have your stomach pumped."

"Wait--what?" The vampire gave Remus an incredulous glance.

"You don't know? Your kind's immune to some of the most fearsome spells wizard's have come up with. Crucio? It'll feel like a static shock. I can't imagine you haven't noticed mind-affecting charms don't work on you. And unless a potion contains aconite or silver, you'd probably get off light. Think I heard of a werewolf in Venice who annoyed a Bolgia and drank a liter of belladonna-laced wine without blinking. And, while I certainly wouldn't test it, I've heard stories of people trying to take one of your kind down, and you could take a real beating."

"Look, this is very interesting and all," Remus interrupted, "But I came out here to get some thinking done, and hearing about how I could, theoretically, survive the Killing Curse, isn't helping much."

"Suit yourself," the vampire said. "You want to talk about it?"

Remus shook his head, but neither boy moved for quite some time. Then Remus spoke up. "Do you know...who runs around out here?"

"The dog, the panther, and the stag," the vampire replied. "Spend hours running about. Well, the panther tries to sleep, but you know how dogs are. I try to stay out of their way. Obviously Animagi, and wouldn't take too kindly to me."

"Pardon me, but why are you here? Couldn't you live somewhere just as nice where you weren't this close to a castle full of people who think you're a monster?"

"Well, first of all, not all vampires are brooding loners who like living in dank castles. I always loved camping. Never stopped. People never change, you see, and you find new things in nature all the time. For example, you. Secondly..." He trailed off, looking away from Remus in a distinctly human gesture. He didn't have the blood to do so, but Remus was fairly certain he was doing his best to blush. "If I have to feed anyway, I might as well feed off of pretty girls. And there's some beauties up there."

"You kill--?"

"I don't kill anyone, Moony. Haven't for centuries."

"But everyone knows--" Remus stopped, realization dawning. "Oh."

"Yes. 'Oh.' I don't have to kill anyone, and if done properly, she enjoys it, and a mind wipe later, she thinks it's a bug bite and we both go about our business."

Remus sat there quietly, turning this new information over in his mind. Finally, he asked, "How old are you?"

"I think I've come to the conclusion I'm somewhere in my twenties. I was 19 when I...died, I suppose, is the best word for it. But I've been around so long...I'm a good deal more naive and optimistic than the rest of my kind. I think my father was sort of an idealist amongst vampires. The last time I saw him, he was going to America to get in on the ground floor of the sym-bi-o-tic relationship between human and vampire. You seem to be doing the same thing for yourself. Going to school, no one the wiser, and if anyone asks, you're just an Animagus."

Remus gave a sharp laugh that sounded more like a bark than anything else. "You are naive. You know they force werewolves to register? I don't have a number tattooed on me, but I might as well. Beauxbatons and Hogwarts were the only places that would have me, and even after I leave school, I'll be lucky if anyone will hire me. Not disclosing my lycanthropy is grounds for dismissal, being a lycanthrope is legitimate grounds for dismissal, and running about as a wolf without proper wards is grounds for, and I quote, 'Appropriate measures for securing the safety of Muggle and wizard alike against dangerously rogue werewolves.'"

The vampire mouthed the words a few times, and then looked over at Remus. "You know, I've heard a joke that always confused me, until now. Why don't vampires drink lawyers' blood?"

"Professional courtesy," Remus replied.

"Why do they bother saying unpleasant things if they're going to make it sound...right?"

"You've been around humans longer than I have," Remus shot back. "You explain." They sat in companionable silence for a few more minutes, and then Remus looked cautiously over at the vampire. "Can I ask a question?"

"I haven't talked to anyone who'll remember the conversation a week later, and he's being polite about it," the vampire muttered. "Go ahead."

"You've been around for a long time, right?"

"Sure. Longer than Dumbledore, certainly."

"What would you do if you thought someone...liked you?"

"Sorry. Wouldn't work out. I'm incapable of love. Vampires don't have souls, you see."

"Really?" Remus glanced over at the boy, who didn't look like he lacked a soul. "How do you know?"

"Some bloke back in the 1940's proved it. Had a Dementor administer the Kiss to a vampire, lad was still walking about and chatting afterwards, right as rain." The vampire fell silent.

"But that doesn't mean you don't have a--"

"Most churches agree a creature that survives only on the blood of living things cannot have a soul," the vampire said.

"But you said you never kill anyone! That you only take what you need and go about your business!"

"Who am I to argue with Cornelius Fudge? Lad compiled an Official Report to the Department of Beings, arguing that lacking souls, vampires were instead Beasts. So...let's say someone liked me. I'd say, 'thanks but no thanks, I'd rather spend the rest of my unnatural half-like wallowing in lonely misery than have someone I legitimately like being accused of bestiality.'"

Remus wrinkled his nose. "That's a bit harsh, isn't it?"

"It's better if I don't get attached. The same goes for you. You are technically a Magical Beast, you know. I heard this argument back in...oh, let's say 1849. German priest had his congregation stone a woman for falling in love with a werewolf. I remember Leviticus 18:23 being brought up a lot when they were telling her they would save her soul by crushing her under a huge rock. Frankly, I think I'm better off having people not worried about saving my soul."

Remus didn't respond, mulling over the vampire's words. Finally, the vampire poked his ribs. "You all right? I didn't mean to say--oh, Hell, you ought to try to be happy, Remus. Tell the rest of the world to sod itself, and climb into that hand basket with a helmet and a devil-may-care smile."

"You're surprisingly liberal for a centuries-old creature of the night," Remus remarked. "Suppose it comes of being on the wrong side of every theological debate you've gotten into." The vampire nodded. "So, what would you do if you had good reason to believe a boy wanted...you know?"

The vampire's face wrinkled. "Can't say it's my cup of tea, wolf. It's the women for me. However, the fact you're wondering suggests to me you might not be as opposed to the idea as I am." He winked at the werewolf. "I suppose it's one of these Hogwarts boys, otherwise you'd have already dealt with it by now. Let's see...it wouldn't be, well, any of Hufflepuff, they're too timid to come right out and say it. A thoughtful boy like you, could be Ravenclaw, but most of those boys are too indrawn to do much about it. Quentin? No, I thought not." He tilted his head, frowning. "You are quite pretty, in a masculine sort of way. I could almost imagine--but that's ridiculous." His lips puckered in thought, until he finally shrugged. "All right, you've got me. Who is it?"

Remus didn't question the boy's extensive knowledge of the student body; evidently he got more than blood out of the girls he brought down here. "Severus Snape. At least...well, Solange and Yvonne seem to think he was, anyway."

"Ah." The vampire nodded. "It'd make sense, anyway, with the way the students talk about him and Black."

"Black?"

"His best friend, Sirius Black. The two are so close, people have been talking. I wouldn't rest easy knowing that; if the rumors are true, you're going to have the two best duelists at this school out for your head on a silver platter, one for you trying to steal his boyfriend, and the other for you trying to steal his friend's boyfriend."

"You're kidding." Remus slumped back against the tree trunk. "So it's a moot point."

"Never said that," the vampire said. "Just it might be true. You know...watch your back." Remus nodded, feeling a little less confident of himself.

"But what should I do? About...Snape?"

"Tell him how you feel. If you're confused, tell him. It never hurts to let people know the truth. Well, in most cases. But if you like him at all, ask to be friends. See what happens. Let Nature take Her course."

Remus nodded. "I...see. Thank you." He pushed himself off of the tree root, and turned to leave.

"Wait just a moment." Remus paused, turning back to look at the vampire. "Rumor has it Voldemort's looking for people like you. Dark Creatures, oppressed by law and tradition and superstition."

"I've heard that," Remus replied. "What's it to you?"

"Have you ever thought about it?"

"No," Remus snapped. "He's a murderer, and a monster, and I won't have anything to do with him."

"Even if he said he had the cure to lycanthropy?"

Remus' blood felt like ice. The...cure?

"Even if he said he could end the pain, the suffering? If he could stop the pitying, the hateful looks? If he could save you from yourself?"

Remus couldn't read the vampire's expression, and he couldn't smell the vampire, so he had no idea what he might be thinking. But he was certain of one thing. "It wouldn't be worth the cost," he said, and the wolf loped away from that small clearing in the Forbidden Forest.

The vampire watched him leave, a smile on his face. "A man after my own heart, Remus. My old man would have liked you." There was a 'pop', and then a large bat, fluttering rapidly, took to the depths of the forest.

Continue to part 2.5