The Second Turn of the Wheel of the World's End – In the Devil's Lair

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter…

Author's Note: Sly is my little tribute to Chris Dee (find her in: It's her character with a little twist and yes I love what she writes. For my only Reviewer S.c.ou.s.er.4.li.f.e.: It is for you that I keep writing!

LUPIN

I was freezing… I was wearing just a threadbare trench coat that I bought 5 years prior. I was freezing my butt in that rainy night. It was such a peculiar weather for that time of the year. We should be enjoying a warm summer now, but instead there I was… Soaked from head to toe.

Things were going bad concerning the werewolves. I was always good on making people see my point but my people… Or should I say my pack? Yes, pack is better. My pack was tired of being shunned away. Tired of having people despising them, spitting on them, killing them… As I spent more time with them, I saw more pain… More hopelessness and thought about how lucky I had been. I had friends, I had people who loved me… I had Nymphadora… My insides warmed a little at the thought of her. But I went cold again when the image of the little one came to me. He was the size of a house-elf, matted hair, scrawny body, Greyback's pride. Johan, he called himself. Such a huge name for someone so small. He was just 7, but so full of malice, so angry… I saw myself in him. I saw what I could have been if Dumbledore hadn't intervened. As I grew used to their presence, their life, I wanted more and more to save them. To show them that there is people who didn't thought about us as ruthless beasts. I wanted them to know, Nymph, Harry, Ron, Hermione, Dumbledore, Molly, Arthur, the twins, Sirius, if he was still alive… I wanted that badly. Specially for that boy. That boy who wanted to kill people. That boy who wanted to kill… PAIN.

When I was finally drawn from my thoughts back to the cold empty street, I was already in front of the pub.

The place was crowded, everyone was hiding from the cold. I sat on a stall.

- Hello, Sly.

- Mr. Lupin. – Sly acknowledged me with a nod. He normally would come up and make some small talk, ask about how things were going. But tonight there were too many people to be served. The tall bartender just served my usual, a double malt dose of Old Ogden's and put a few envelops under the napkins which he put under the drink. I shoved the papers on my pocket and lifted my glass to him in salute. I downed it in one gulp. And called him to pay for the drink. He smiled.

- You go on, Mr. Lupin. I'll just put on Mr. D's tab.

Ah… "Mr. D"… Mr. Dumbledore… Americans are an interesting people. They say so much without saying anything at all… That's good for the cause. That's good for me.