The morning arrived, and Remus felt no better. He decided to lie in bed for a few minutes, to plan what to do with the rest of his day. Yesterday's events were whirling through his mind. It had been a shock to see Tonks again. They had almost had something together, all those years ago during the War. Remus grimaced. Almost; that was the story of his life.

He put an end to that line of thought and turned instead to the problem of the werewolves. He was positive that the scent and the hair that he had seen at the crime scene belonged to Quadrille Beaufort. However, he also knew for a fact that Quadrille had been with him in Sorrel's Institution last night. Tonks clearly had not believed him; she had said that she woud investigate but Remus doubted it. It had sounded as if she was having enough problems at work without starting on wild goose chases. Remus could see only one course of action, he would have to go and speak to Quadrille himself. At least that way, he would be able to check the scent one more time.

That decided, Remus was soon out of bed, dressed and breakfasted. He still felt fragile after the full moon, but he could walk, and talk, and that was all that was necessary. Quadrille was one of the unfortunate souls forced to work in Sorrel's Institution to earn his Wolfsbane potion. That meant that he was easy to find, but would only be free at lunchtime.

To pass the time, Remus went out to buy a newspaper. He lived in small town in Devon that had quite a few wizarding families mixed in with the Muggles. One of the corner shops was run by one of them, the Pathaks, and behind the Muggle front there was a selection of magical goods; the Daily Prophet, some sweets, some tricks from Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes, and a few stationery supplies.

When Remus arrived, a few of his neighbours were clustered together, speaking in agitated tones. Remus said hello, and was a little perturbed at the rather frightened glances that he collected. Finally Silvia Higgs said hello, and the others all mumbled something. Remus nodded, picked up a copy of the Prophet and left quickly. They all knew that he was a werewolf; he was in fact the most famous werewolf in the country, if not the world.

The Prophet itself was a full of rubbish as ever, at least in Remus' opinion. The pages were filled with more information on the werewolf attack. Apparently the Wizengamot was busy discussing the issue, and whether the current laws needed strengthening. The Prophet was encouraging them to do so, scathingly quoting Warlock Quintus Dorfaux saying that the Wizengamot had to pay due attention to the rights of werewolves and the laws of the land. Remus rubbed his eyes tiredly, and turned the page. He noted with something like satisfaction that the Aurors at the scene of crime wanted to question someone who had been spotted nosing around on Ilkley Moor.

At tweve o'clock, Remus put his jacket on and lit his fire. He took a pinch of Floo Powder from his diminishing stock, dropped it into the flames and said, "St. Mungo's."

The reception at St. Mungo's was surprisingly empty. The receptionist seemed rather bored. Remus thought that he recognized her; yes, if he was not mistaken it was Eloise Midgen, one of the girls he had taught at Hogwarts. He told her that he wanted to go through to Sorrel's Institution. It was always better to be expected on arrival at Sorrel's. Eloise looked Remus up and down and said, with a faint sneer, "Very good, Mr. Lupin. I'll key the Floo through."

Remus looked away and stepped through the Floo again on her signal. The reception area he landed in was not nearly so bright. The walls seemed to suck all of the light out of the room, and Remus felt his spirit start to shrivel. Another receptionist was looking at him with some distaste. He recognised this woman, in her fifties, as she was usually present when he arrived on the full moon. She looked down over her glasses at him and said, "Yes, Mr. Lupin, how may I help you?"

He cleared his throat nervously. "I was wondering if I could have a word with Quadrille Beaufort, please?"

The receptionist made a big show of leafing through the parchment in front of her. Eventually she looked up and said, "Very well. I believe he is just having his lunch in the garden area."

Remus nodded, thanked her and set off. The 'garden area' was another dark room, with a few potted plants grouped in the middle. Stern benches were set against the walls. Three people were seated there. They were all werewolves.

One of them, Timothy Hardin, looked up and said in surprise, "Remus! What are you doing here?"

Remus shrugged. "Hi guys. I thought I'd drop by to see how you were all doing?"

Another one, Methuselah Smith, snorted. "Likely story, Lupin. You can't wait to get out of here after the full moon."

Timothy slapped him lightly on the shoulder. "And nor would you if you didn't have to come back here."

Remus pulled his copy of the Daily Prophet out of his jacket's inner pocket and threw it to Timothy. "I thought you might like to see this, for reference for when you go home."

Quadrille Beaufort spoke then, bitterly. "Home? As if we'll ever have a real home. This place is the closest thing we'll get, and its a bloody prison. And we didn't even do anything wrong."

"Except get bitten," said Timothy.

As there was no real answer to that, there was a short silence. Remus said, "Is there anything I can do for your guys? Are there any messages you'd like delivering?"

Methuselah spat at one of the potted plants. "If there was anyone, do you think that I'd be here?"

Quadrille looked at Remus and said, "Could you give a message to my daughter, please. I think she forgets about me, you know. I saw her a couple of weeks ago, but, any opportunity ..."

Remus had been expecting this, as Quadrille often asked him to do this after transformation. Two days ago, he had not mentioned it. Remus stuck out his hand. "Come on, then. Let's discuss it while walking. And leave these fine fellows to their lunch."

Quadrille and Remus spent a few moment wandering the corridors, before Quadrille said, "I am so very glad that you came today, Remus. My mind was so foggy after the last transformation. It was all I could do to eat the next day. That's why I didn't ask you. But if you could go and say hello to Salsa for me, I would really appreciate it."

Remus' smile was somewhat strained. "Of course I'll go, although Salsa's mother was less than keen for me to go in last time. I dare say she won't be any more willing today."

"No," said Quadrille sadly. "She causes enough fuss about visiting rights. Anyway, just tell Salsa that I'm okay, and ask how she's doing, and whether she's learning everything that she should. She'll be going to Hogwarts next year, you know." His smile was now tinged with pride.

Remus nodded, and then the awkward silence that followed provided a suitable gap for his questions. "So what happened at the full moon? Did you have a bad transformation or something?"

Quadrille shook his head. "I really don't know. I took the Wolfsbane potion as per usual, but I can't really remember anything after transforming. I mean, usually you remember snippets, right? And then, in the morning, I was so tired. I felt as if I'd run a marathon. I still feel a bit shakey now. And you, Remus, did you have any problems? Was it a dodgy batch of the potion? I wouldn't put it past 'em to take out the painkiller parts."

"No, it seemed just as usual to me. I mean, I don't usually remember too much in any case. You didn't, I don't know, do any magic at the time?"

"I don't thing we can, can we? In any case, they take our wands away."

Remus rubbed his eyes. "Of course. Of course they do. Honest to gods, I think I'm going senile." He added silently, "Or mad."

He had no more questions, and left at the end of the lunch period, leaving the three werewolves to toil away in the secure institution. He visited Salsa, who had been moved far away from Surrey to avoid Quadrille. She lived with her mother in Northumberland. Remus Apparated there, and was rebuffed by the mother. He persisted, and managed to speak to Salsa for about five minutes. He was a little disappointed that the child did not seem very interested. Quadrille was obviously right.

He Apparated back to his house, now feeling dog-tired. Magical travel certainly took it out of you. He thought that Muggles had it quite easy, sitting on their trains and in their cars. He had very little food in, and very little desire to spend ages cooking, so he took a few vegetables and made up a thin-looking potato salad. As he ate, rather joylessly, he remembered Nero Lestrange's advice to buy kidneys and liver. He would have to look into it. After that, with little else to do, he went to bed.

The next morning, Remus again stayed in bed. He was semi-consciously reviewing his options, when he was woken fully by the sound of glass breaking. Immediately after that, a cacophony of noise infiltrated his house. He heard phrases like, "Out, werewolf!" repeated by many different voices. There were more thuds, as if his door was being broken down. Remus leapt out of bed, and rapidly pulled on some clothes. He scrabbled wildly for his wand. With it in hand, he felt a bit safer. Grabbing his wallet, he opened his bedroom door to find out exactly what was going on. He went down the stairs cautiously, and saw that his kitchen window had been broken, and that his hall was filled with people, mostly his magical neighbours. Ruchika Pathak spotted him and shouted, "There he is! There's the filthy monster!"

Remus did not hang around. He bolted back upstairs, into his bedroom, slamming the door shut behind him. Footsteps rushed behind him, and someone shouted, "Incendio!" The spell thudded into the bedroom door. Remus glanced back and scanned the room. He fell to his knees and reached under the bed to grab a slim box that contained his important papers and Gringotts key. With that in hand, he Apparated away.

Or rather, tried to Apparate. Nothing happened. He tried again, making sure that he was using his wand correctly. Again, nothing happened. The door slammed open. Remus took one look at the hate-filled faces that were approaching and ran to the window. As he ran he shouted, "Reducto." The window pane exploded, and Remus jumped out.

He fell about fifteen feet, but was prepared and landed without too much shock. He jumped up and started to run away. The horde that had invaded his house stared at his back from the window.

Remus did not stop moving for at least an hour. After crossing a few gardens he wheeled round and headed into the Muggle heart of the town, figuring that wizards were less likely to look for him there, or use spells against him. He went into a library to catch his breath, and hid at a table behind several shelves of books. He picked up a book randomly, and pretended to be engrossed in it.

In reality, his mind was racing. He had no idea why a lynch mob had suddenly appeared outside his house. Obviously, it was because he was a werewolf, but he had thought that he had had good relations with his neighbours on the whole. He had no idea if he was liable to be attacked in any wizarding area. If he did not dare go to a wizarding area, then it would be very difficult to find out any news. On top of all that, he had no idea why his Apparation charm had failed, and he was not yet ready to try again, especially not in public in a Muggle area.

He had to find a friendly wizard, who would be able to get him some information. Although true, Remus did not find that idea immediately helpful. He could not think of anyone to go to. He did not work with anyone. His friends from previous times were all long gone, or would not be willing to help him now. And he did not know where any of them lived.

At that, he remembered Tonks announcing into her Felly-Tone quite clearly, "54 Mulligan Street." Tonks it would be then. She had been nice enough two days previously, and if he explained the situation she might be able to help him out. She was an Auror, but he did not think he had committed any crimes yet. He stood up and went to find the London A-to-Z.

Travelling by bus, it took him most of the day to make it to 54 Mulligan Street, and he arrived at five thirty. A tad nervous, he knocked on the door. After a short wait, it was opened by Nero Lestrange, who stared at Remus with his impenetrable grey eyes.

Remus stuttered, "Hi, Cal. Is Tonks in?"

"No. She's not back yet."

"Oh. Do you know when she will be back?"

"No."

Nero remained quiet, and Remus wilted. "Well, what time does she usually get home from work?"

"She's usually back about now, but I think she might be a lot later today." Nero paused. "Why are you here, Mr. Lupin? Can I take a message?"

Remus was defeated. "I, um, no. I just wanted to ask ..." He ran out of things to say and rubbed his brow.

Nero smiled slowly, giving his face a cruel cast. "Mr. Lupin, you look quite distraught. May I offer you a cup of tea? I've got today's newspaper, as well."

Remus closed his eyes briefly and then looked back at Nero. "That would be very nice of you, Cal. And I told you before, call me Remus."

"As you wish. Come on in."

Remus followed the young man, and closed the door. He was soon ensconced in a chair, with a cup of tea, staring in dismay at the front page of the Daily Prophet. "WEREWOLVES: NAMED AND SHAMED. The Wizengamot yesterday refused to consider legislation to control the dangerous werewolves in our midst. We at the Daily Prophet believe that the wizards of Britain should be able to protect their loved ones. We are therefore publishing a list of known werewolves and their residences. Forewarned is forearmed."