Chapter 13: Don't Underestimate Them

A/N: This chapter falls about a week after chapter 57 of Tomorrow We May Die.

He woke the next morning to the sound of his name through the barred window of his door. "Remus?" Lara's voice, firm and authoritative, was as beautiful as a song.

"Yes?"

The keys rattled in the door and she came in, a stack of books in her hands. "Good morning! I brought you some books. Did you sleep well?"

He snorted, taking the books from her hands. "When's the last time you slept on a stone floor?" he asked as he glanced at the titles.

"Never, actually."

"You should try it sometime," he suggested. "It might cure you of asking people who just spent the night on one how they slept."

She laughed a bit. "Believe me when I tell you that you have my full sympathy on that point," she said. "I'd put beds in the cells if I could. It isn't in the Department's Budget this year, though, and every time I bring it up, I'm reminded that we'd likely have to replace or repair all the beds every month."

"How about Cushioning Charms then?" Remus asked, attempting to stretch while remaining covered.

"Cushioning Charms, hrm?" she asked, then shrugged. "I don't see why not." She pointed her wand at the straw pallet and he felt the floor soften beneath him. "Better?"

"Much."

"What else?" she asked, conjuring a chair and table and opening a folder. "Other suggestions?"

"Clocks," he replied.

She smiled and shook her head. "Impractical," she rejoined. "We can't put clocks in every cell and the guards will tell you what time it is if you ask them."

"Clothes, then."

"I'll bring that up again," she promised him. "It wasn't widely accepted last time. The concern is that the Ministry will end up having to foot the cost of extra robes if werewolves forget to undress before they transform. We can't very well send you walking out into the Ministry naked."

"Then make it a stipulation that we bring a spare change of clothes to leave in those boxes. You could put a high shelf on the wall and make the werewolf responsible for his own belongings, and then we could bring in books, clothes, watches, shoes, toothbrushes—whatever we wanted. Perhaps the guards could announce at two hour intervals when the moon will rise."

"All right," Lara said, scribbling frantically. "You're making a very good case."

"And explain to me exactly why we have to be here forty-eight hours before the full moon anyway?"

"Because not all werewolves transform predictably," she replied. "Surely you know that? Particularly when the full moon occurs at unusual times. We have cases of daytime transformations, and—"

"But not forty-eight hours in advance."

"There have been documented cases of transformations twenty-eight hours in advance of the full moon," she replied. "Minister Davis wants us to take no chances. We also have to take into consideration how long it takes to get everyone in and settled. We don't want to be racing the clock to shove werewolves into cells just in time for them to transform."

"Forty-eight hours, Lara," he repeated. "Two days."

"I'm afraid that one is non-negotiable."

"I have three complaints about all this," Remus said, wrapping himself tighter in the blanket. "Well, I have many complaints, but they fall into one of three general categories."

"It's inconvenient," Lara prompted him, but he waved her silent.

"Yes, it's inconvenient," he replied. "Being a werewolf is inconvenient. Accepting that as inevitable, the complaints I have that I feel I could expect you to take seriously are that the cells are uncomfortable, it's boring, and it's lonely. Combined, those represent the worst part of this. Being locked in a cold, unfurnished cell for three to five days with nothing to distract you from the condition and no one to share your misery is psychological torture and no one should have to endure it."

"You've been thinking about this quite a lot."

"What time is it?"

"Guard?" Lara called. "What time is it?"

"Ten 'til nine."

She nodded at him.

"I've had fourteen hours with nothing to do but think," he replied. "And that's what I've been thinking about."

"Psychological torture," she said, nodding. "I'm writing that down. Do you have a suggestion for me, or are you just complaining about the general state of things?"

"Am I not allowed to complain?"

"Of course you are," Lara replied. "But when you complain and have suggestions, I'm more likely to be able to do something about it."

He faltered, wondering for the first time if he was going to be going too far. Lara seemed to sense his hesitation.

"Remus? The worst that can happen is that someone will say no."

"I've already suggested the shelves and the Cushioning Charms to make the cells more comfortable. And I still think clocks. Or to dim and brighten the light. Something to give us a sense of time. In the past, I've suggested furniture, and I understand the reasoning behind not having it. Perhaps, though… Even though we're here and we've turned ourselves in forty-eight hours in advance of the full moon, is it necessary for us to be prisoners for that time? If the concern is a logistical one, how to make sure everyone is locked up tight when he transforms, then maybe…"

"Yes?" she prompted when he hesitated again.

"Maybe if you set up community areas, didn't lock the doors. Give us a place to talk with each other, set up a play area for the children, dining tables, chairs and sofas to lounge in, desks to write at. Then, twenty-four hours before the full moon—and I know you said there are documented cases of werewolves transforming at twenty-six hours, but realistically that doesn't happen. Realistically, everyone will transform within thirty minutes of each other, and if one of us did happen to transform earlier, what's going to happen? One of us will be infected again? Really, if everyone is in his cell by five, all the werewolves will be contained, and if someone were to begin the transformation, we all know the signs. The transformation takes nearly three minutes, and that's certainly enough time to put someone in his cell if the need arose."

Lara regarded him with interest. "A common room, essentially?" she asked.

"If you want to call it that."

"I shudder to think of the size of a room it would require for as many werewolves as we house every month—"

"How many are there?"

"More than two hundred. As I was saying, it would take a very large room to accommodate that many—"

"Then you're saying no."

"Will you hush and let me think?" She frowned at him, then stood, pacing back and forth across the cell. "I'm thinking about what the Minister will want to know, and what he's going to want to know is what it would take to do this. It would take a room large enough to comfortably accommodate, say three hundred adults, and it would have to be secure, and it would have to be easily accessible from the cells. That's a tall order, you realize."

"How many cells are there?"

"Four hundred odd. It used to be a prison."

"It still is."

"I'm not going to respond to that." She leaned against the wall, her arms folded. "More realistically, we could probably convert some of the cells into such rooms. Maybe have a room on each corridor. If we combined the two cells at the end of the corridor…"

"Open them into the corridor," Remus suggested. "There's nothing wrong with using the corridor."

"I'll have to think on this some more," she said after a moment. "I need to make sure I have a clear plan before I bring that up. It's the sort of thing that if I can convince the Minister to listen, he might agree to, but getting him to listen will be the trick."

The guard knocked on the door and called, "Breakfast!" as he slid a tray through the slot.

Lara gathered her folder and waved her wand at the conjured table and chair, vanishing them. "I'm going to leave you to your breakfast," she said, retrieving the tray and carrying it to him. She placed it on the floor beside him. "Enjoy your books. Do you want me to leave parchment and a quill in case you have any more ideas? We can talk about them more next—well, no. Next week probably won't be very good. We'll find time to talk about them though."

She handed him parchment and quill and a bottle of ink, then paused at the door. "Anything else?" When he didn't answer right away, she folded her arms. "Remus?"

"A toothbrush?" he asked, not daring to hope.

She laughed. "You'll ask for a common room before you ask for a toothbrush. Has anyone ever told you that your priorities are a little skewed? And did you check in the bathroom cabinet?" she asked, pointing at the narrow door in the side of his cell.

"No, I didn't think…"

"You'll find a toothbrush, toothpaste, soap, razor and comb in there," she assured him. "Compliments of the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures."

"Who used them last month?"

She gave him a withering look. "No one," she replied. "We replace them all every month."

He shook his head. "It's in the budget to replace toiletries for every werewolf every month, but you're not sure if the Minister will agree to shelves on the wall so we can bring our own personal items? That makes perfect sense."

"Eat your breakfast before it gets cold," she said, pointing at the tray. "And let the guard know if you need anything."

After she left, he ate his breakfast, which was just short of cold anyway, then took a lukewarm shower and wrapped up in his blanket again, shivering. He shivered for almost half an hour before he gave in and asked the guard to reset the Warming Charm, which the guard did without question. He read for a while, napped on the newly-softened floor, read a little more, asked the guard for the time and groaned when he discovered it wasn't even eleven. The entire day was a variation on that theme, and not much of a variation. Twice he asked the guard for water, and the guard complied. Mid-afternoon, he tried his luck and asked for tea and got that as well. Some time between a quarter to six and half past eight, he asked for scotch on the rocks and the guard only laughed. It wasn't as bad as he'd remembered it, but it was bad enough.

He could tell when everyone but the guards had left for the evening, and the quiet grew stifling again. He was too restless to keep his mind on the book, despite not having anything else to do, so he lay between his blankets, staring up at the low stone ceiling, nothing but his thoughts and the sound of one of his neighbors snoring to keep him company. He supposed he'd slept too much during the day because he couldn't keep his eyes closed. Or perhaps he was afraid of what he would see if he surrendered to the creeping fatigue.

The cell grew darker as candles burned down and were not lit again, the lighting charms fading and not reset, until only the light of torch flames chased the shadows from corners. The silence grew more oppressive until the roar of his blood and the thudding of his heart threatened to drive him insane. Deprived of his sense of sight, every noise that broke through the silence was deafening—the crunching of the straw as he moved, the bark of someone else coughing, a strangled sob like the dying gasp of a lion, he'd never thought of it in those terms, but sounds against the silence were like a bright light after being trapped in a dim room.

When a scream pierced the pitch black stillness, Remus bolted upright.

"NOOOOO!" came a shriek, followed by a thunderous shout. "GUARD!"

Remus' throat constricted; he recognized that voice, laced though it was with panic.

"Here now, what's wrong?" A much calmer voice drifted down the corridor, and was answered by a ratcheting sob.

"There's a monster in here," Edward said, his quivering voice echoing through the cell block.

Remus stood and walked towards the door of his cell, leaning his head against the barred window, trying to see where Edward was. He must have been nearby.

"What kind of monster?" the guard asked in a friendly, calming voice.

"I don't know."

"Where is it?"

"Under my blanket."

"Well, how did it get there?"

"I don't know."

"I think you're imagining things." It could have sounded patronizing, but it didn't. The guard sounded sympathetic. Remus wrapped his arms around himself, wishing he could do something.

"No I'm not," Edward argued. "There's a monster in here."

"A monster couldn't have got in," the guard was saying. "We've got all kinds of things protecting us. If it tried to get in, it'd be zapped!"

"But it's in here," Edward insisted.

Remus closed his eyes.

"You know what I've got?" the guard asked. "I've got some monster-repelling chocolate in my pocket. Do you want a piece of it?"

"No!" Edward was crying now, and Remus felt a tear roll down his cheek as well. "Please make it go away."

"There's nothing for me to make go away," the guard insisted. "Why don't you try to get some sleep?"

"But there's a monster in here!" Edward sobbed.

Footsteps echoed down the corridor, and Remus covered his face with his hand. This was as bad as he'd remembered it being. Edward's fearful whimpers echoed through the stone corridor, and Remus clutched the edge of his blanket. He'd never felt so helpless.

"Hey, guard!" one of the others called. "Can't you do something about that kid?"

"He's scared!" one of the others shouted.

"There's nothing I can do," the guard replied. "Go to sleep."

"How the hell are we supposed to sleep with him crying like that?"

"Do you want me to put a Silencing Charm on his cell?"

"No!" Remus shouted. "He might need something."

"Can't you just show him there ain't no monster?"

"No," the guard answered. "I can't open the door."

"Why not?"

"He's just a kid!"

"He hasn't transformed yet!"

"What the hell kind of guard is scared of a little kid?"

"Be quiet, all of you."

Edward was still sobbing, and more and more voices were adding to the heckling of the guard.

"Just open the damn door and put a light in there!"

"I can't open the door," the guard repeated.

"Why not?"

"BECAUSE I DON'T HAVE A KEY!" the guard shouted.

For a minute, there was silence then a new voice, a low, calm voice, asked, "So if something happened, we'd just be trapped here?"

"Nothing's going to happen," the guard said.

"Right. Just like there ain't no monster in that kid's cell."

"There's not!"

"Boy, listen to me!" one of them shouted. "Are you listening?"

"Y-yes," Edward stuttered.

"That monster in your cell isn't going to hurt you. He's just waiting for his chance to rip out that guard's throat." This was met with a chorus of chuckles.

"Yeah, guard! There's a monster in this cell too. Come take a look."

"Hey, guard!"

"Guard!"

Remus hugged himself tighter, trying without success to block out the jeers.

"All of you, shut up!" the guard yelled. "I mean it! I'm going to—"

"You're going to what?" someone asked. "You can't unlock the doors, remember?"

There was a flash of light, and someone yelped.

"What the hell did you do that for?"

"Shut up!" the guard shouted.

"I saw that! I'm reporting your ass tomorrow!"

"I said shut up!"

"Yeah, when they come in tomorrow to check on us, they better watch their backs. I'm sick of this shit."

Someone coughed, but it wasn't as deafening as the same sound had been earlier. Edward was still sobbing, but his sobs were swallowed by a steady clanging as the thinly veiled threats grew louder and more vehement. Remus retreated to the back of his cell, wrapping his blanket around himself. The Warming Charm was wearing off again, and a cold damp chill was seeping into the cell.

"Murray! What the hell is going on down here?" another voice bellowed from the end of the corridor.

The other werewolves grew quiet instantly.

"Kid at the end of the row thought there was a monster in his cell," the guard replied.

"What's all the noise?"

"Hey! You his boss?"

"Hey, guard! That ass-hat used a Stinging Hex on me!"

"He said he ain't got no keys! What kind of guard don't got keys?"

"They're a little agitated," the guard said.

Someone coughed again. There was a deafening roar as the werewolves protested to this description. Remus rather agreed with them. He'd been 'a little agitated' hours ago when he was pacing his cell and bored. This went beyond agitated. The cell block was becoming a murderous throng, and it was probably a good thing they were behind locked doors.

"That fuck-twat can't even be arsed to put a light in a little kid's cell to show the kid there ain't no monster in there!"

"He hexed that bloke!"

"What the hell kind of guard can't unlock a door if he needs to?"

"Murray, out."

"But, sir—"

"I said out. The rest of you, shut up and go to sleep!"

"Guard…" came a hoarse croak from the end of the corridor.

"I SAID SHUT UP! I'm locking off this corridor, and if you haven't found your manners by morning, there won't be any breakfast! Now shut up and go to sleep!"

"YOU CAN'T JUST FUCKING LOCK US IN HERE LIKE WE'RE PRISONERS!"

There was a sound of heavy footfall, then something banged against one of the doors. Someone yelped, someone coughed, and someone sobbed.

"The way I see it, you're behind a locked door in a Ministry dungeon and you can't get out unless someone lets you out. That makes you a prisoner! Now sit the fuck down and shut the fuck up!"

This was met with a roar, but the roar was followed by the slamming of a door. After a minute, there was silence.

"They really left," said a new voice. "Great job, mates."

"Guard…?" came a hoarse voice at the end of the corridor again.

"The guard's gone, man."

There was coughing again, chest-rattling and wheezing until Remus wondered if the cougher was going to be able to take a breath.

"You got some water or something, old man?"

"No…" he whispered hoarsely.

Nightmare. This was a nightmare. Remus wished desperately that he would wake up from it.

"That fucker's going to pay for this."

"Enough with the profanity already!" someone else shouted. "You got a kid at one end of the block and an old man at the other. Can't you say anything that isn't four letters?"

The coughing started again, and Remus stared at the door, pulling his blanket tighter around his shoulders, shivering. The coughing grew louder, and someone started shouting, "Guard!"

There was no guard, and no matter how loud the cell block bellowed, no matter what they did to make noise, to try to draw attention, no one opened the door. The stone walls and floors just grew colder and colder, the air more chilled, the clamoring louder. Edward sobbed, the old man coughed, the tough guy cussed and the torches burned down until there wasn't even a flickering light to cast shadows on the walls.

Remus had no way of knowing what time the coughing stopped, and finally, he drifted to sleep, huddled against a freezing wall.

"What the hell do you mean you told him to abandon his post!"

Lara's voice cut through the silence, and Remus woke, squinting into the dim light. He could see his breath, and he pulled the blanket tighter around him.

"It's freezing down here! It's the middle of the winter and you left these men without heat!" Lara sounded like she was fuming, and the door banged open. "Lumos!" Light flooded the cell block, and Remus closed his eyes against it. A chorus of groans rose from the cells around him.

"Get hot food and tea into these cells now!" Lara ordered. "And get Healers in here! Half of them probably have pneumonia now!"

Remus stood, his muscles and joints protesting his movement when he'd been curled up in the corner for so long. The door to his cell banged open, and he blinked up at Lara. There were tears in her eyes and her face was red.

"What happened last night?" she demanded. "What—" She stopped abruptly, her eyes on the cup beside the door, which had contained water but now held only ice. She picked it up and peered into it, jerked open the door to the bathroom. Remus could hear the squeaking sound of her attempting to cut on the water, but he could have told her that the pipes were frozen. "GET THESE PEOPLE SOME WATER!" she screamed. "And get Warming Charms in the cells, and get extra blankets and…" She leaned against the doorframe, tears running down her face now. "What happened?" she asked again.

"Be careful," Remus whispered, his voice not cooperating after a night in the cold. "They're angry. The old man…"

"Oh my God! Lara!"

Lara whipped away, slamming the door behind her, and Remus heard a scream. "Get those Healers now!" Lara shouted, her voice shaking.

There was a flurry of activity as other people started descending on the cells. Healers came pouring in, and from what he was hearing at the end of the corridor, Remus thought it likely that the old man had died in the night. Someone brought Remus a bowl of oatmeal and a cup of tea, both of which were actually hot, and a few minutes later a pair of Healers in the lime green robes of St. Mungo's descended on him. One of them cast a charm to read all his vital signs while the other measured a potion into a cup and handed it to him. After a few perfunctory questions, another Warming Charm, a Cushioning Charm and a spell that took care of his scratchy throat, they left, closing the door behind them. Remus ate his breakfast in silence.

It was after noon before Lara returned to Remus' cell, looking frazzled and hassled. She sat on the floor beside him, leaning her head into her hands. "I can't believe this happened," she said, staring at the floor. "I don't want to believe this happened."

"The old man…?"

"He died. He was in poor health anyway and we didn't really think he'd make it through the transformation but…" She rubbed her hands over her face. "Damn it, Remus, he didn't deserve to die like that. If there'd been a guard here…"

"Don't. Ifs don't get you anywhere."

She took a deep breath. "I'm sorry. I came in here to see how you're doing, not to unload all my woes on you." She smiled a bit. "You have very broad shoulders, you know."

"So I've been told," he replied.

She moved closer to him, sliding an arm around his back. "How are you doing?"

"I'm fine," he assured her. "I'm one of the young and reasonably healthy adults, remember?"

"I'd worry about anyone now," she replied. "You all just survived a night in the ninth ring of hell by my way of thinking." She urged him into her arms and he obliged her, partly out of a desire for the comfort she had to offer and partly out of a desire to comfort her.

"How's Edward?" he asked after a few minutes.

"He's very upset," she answered. "I don't know what he thought was a monster, but I think he thinks it's still in there."

Remus nodded.

"You know, if it weren't so late, I'd take part of your advice right now," she mused. "I'd lock the door at the end of the corridor and unlock all the rest of the doors and let all of you do what you wanted for the rest of the evening. I can't, though. You know that, don't you?"

"I know."

"It would be inexcusable. Someone would be bound to get hurt."

"I know."

She straightened suddenly and looked at him. "How well do you know Edward?"

"I've spent some time with him," Remus replied. "Why?"

"How would you feel if I brought him in here for a few minutes? Would you talk to him? Maybe he'd tell you more than he's telling me."

Remus nodded. "Of course," he said. "I don't mind at all."

"I'll be right back."

She looked tired as she got to her feet, and she took a deep breath as she reached for the door. She disappeared down the corridor, and a few minutes later, the door opened again. Edward, wide-eyed and wrapped in a blanket, stood in front of her looking sullen. As soon as he saw Remus, though, he bolted forward, and Remus barely had time to prepare himself for the force of an eight-year-old slamming against him.

"Remus!"

"Shh," Remus whispered, wrapping his arms around the boy. "It's all right. Everything's all right." A part of his mind was dismayed at how easily the lie he so hated to hear tumbled from his lips, but it wasn't a lie as he meant it. It was reassurance, and after a miserable morning and night, it was reassurance they all needed, however false it might be.

"I didn't mean it to happen!" Edward said, clinging to Remus' neck.

"It's not your fault," Remus assured him. "You didn't do anything wrong."

"There was a monster under my blanket!"

"I know. I'm sorry I couldn't do anything about it," he whispered, stealing a glance at Lara. She was leaning against the wall, watching them.

"I don't want to go back," Edward whispered. "Please don't make me go back. I promise I'll be good, just don't make me go back."

"Edward, listen to me. Do you remember when I told you that this has nothing to do with being good or bad? It still doesn't. This isn't a punishment."

"I hate it. I hate it!"

"I know…"

Lara sat beside them, and reached to smooth Edward's hair. Remus frowned slightly as he felt Edward tense.

"Edward?" Lara asked, her hand resting on his back. Remus tried to give her a warning look, but she wasn't paying attention. Edward felt like a tightly coiled spring in his arms, and Remus tightened his grasp on him.

"Come on," Remus said, nudging Edward a bit. "Let's you and I go make sure that monster's gone for good, okay?"

Edward nodded, and Remus stood, careful to keep his arms around Edward. Lara stood as well and didn't seem to notice Remus' efforts to warn her back. She slipped an arm around Edward's shoulders, and Edward made a low noise that was distinctly animal.

"Let's go," Remus said, steering Edward out into the corridor. He led the boy to his cell, and they made a quick search of it while Lara stood in the doorway. When Edward was satisfied that the monster wasn't there, at least for the moment, Remus gave him a final hug.

"All right," Lara said in far too bright a tone, "if you need anything, Edward, you just let the guard know. And if that monster comes back, we'll make sure we get it this time, right?"

The warning was nothing but a look of hatred that flashed in Edward's eyes before he flew at Lara, and Remus barely had time to snake out an arm and grab him by the waist.

"Out!" he told Lara as he restrained a kicking Edward.

Lara's eyes widened, but she went, shutting the door behind her. As soon as she was gone, Remus crouched in front of Edward, grasping his chin between his fingers.

"Listen to me, Edward. You are a boy, not a wild animal. I do not want to see you doing that again. Is that clear?"

Edward hung his head. "Yes, sir," he whispered.

Remus steered him towards his blankets. "Is it warm enough in here?" he asked.

Edward nodded, lying down, his eyes wide and his mouth turned down in a frown.

"Try to get some sleep," Remus said, pulling the extra blanket over him. "It's going to be a long night."

"Remus?"

"Yes?"

"I didn't mean to."

"I know," Remus said. "But you're going to have to learn not to do the things you don't mean to do. You could really hurt someone, you know."

Edward nodded.

"We'll talk about it later, all right?" Edward nodded again, and Remus squeezed his shoulder. "I'll see you tomorrow."

Remus stepped back into the corridor to find Lara leaning against the wall, pale and trembling slightly. "Is he--?" she began.

"He's an eight-year-old kid who doesn't like you very much right now," Remus said, walking a few steps ahead of her back to his own cell. "And the closer to the full moon we get, the easier it is for him to forget his manners." When they were back in his cell, he lowered his voice. "That's what happened last night as much as anything—emotions were running high and an ill-informed guard wasn't helping. That's just one of the many symptoms. Last night, that guard would have been in danger from several men on this block. From men, mind you, not from werewolves. This close to the full moon, make a werewolf angry enough and he can kill with his bare hands, but he'd do it as a human, not an animal."

Lara leaned against the doorframe, looking at him. "You're not being overly emotional," she pointed out.

"I'd say that my calm is an excellent indication that the doses of Wolfsbane that I took this month did their job." He gave her a level look. "Listen to me very carefully, Lara. When I petition for humane treatment, I'm asking for it during the twenty-nine days of the month when we are rational human beings like anyone else. Don't underestimate what it means to be a werewolf for the other one."

She nodded and started to turn to leave.

"And don't underestimate the capacity an eight-year-old has for disliking a woman who hugs him all the time," Remus added. "No boy that age wants to be suffocated like that."

Lara turned back, then laughed a bit. "Is that why he hates me?"

"That and the fact that you're the face of the Ministry that persecutes him, though I wouldn't even expect him to understand that one yet."

"Do you hate me for that reason?"

He looked at the floor, then back at her again and shook his head. "No," he replied. "But that's the reason I'd truly like to hate you."

A/N:

DiscombobulatedDrummer: Thank you. I'm glad you're enjoying :)

cecelle: werewolves and women. You know, I've had discussions with various people on this point, and about the time I come to the conclusion that men or women can be werewolves, I get something else tossed at me to suggest that only men do, then about the time I've locked that in my head, I find something to suggest both do. I think that for the moment, my answer is that there are women, but they're not as common as the men, and Remus does a fair bit of assuming. Remus certainly doesn't deserve it, does he?

excessivelyperky: Thank you! I'm glad you're enjoying. Momentarily moving away from the fantasy aspect of the werewolf, I think that the metaphorical explanation is very appropriate here-- the traditional werewolf from (recent) folklore is a mild-mannered person who would never harm a fly, but the wolf is the expression of those carnal urges he suppresses. I imagine it rather like a case of multiple personality disorder, only a very predictable one-- the part that he represses for the majority of the month becomes a personified and independent identity during the full moon. Thus, yes, I try to write Remus as suppressing most of his negative emotions.

hopgoblen: Maybe this chapter satisfied your desire to see Lupin and Edward together.

HumanTales: Very observant. One of the Minister's goals (which I know in the back of my mind but I don't know if it's made it into the story or if it will) is that he wants there to be no more werewolves in 100 years. He wants the new infections to stop entirely, and he wants the existing ones contained as much as possible until they die of natural causes.

Pickledishkiller: Thank you!

duj: The antidote but would be very hard to swallow, I thought.

Kathryn: I've had a couple of people ask about where the chapters fall together in TWMD. The short answer is that they really don't have much to do with each other anymore, but I'm preparing for them to cross again, so I've added a note to this chapter about where it falls.

Ishkodeikwe: Thank you! I'm glad you're enjoying.

Thanks to everyone for reading and for taking the time to leave comments. Special thanks belong to LariLee who betas this thing.