Remus pulled his rather threadbare robes around him tightly, and grimaced. This time there was no snow in Ilkley, but there was a cold wind whipping about. He moved to run a hand through his hair, but stopped himself just in time. In preparation for his 'undercover' mission, Calvin had cut his hair, dyed it a rich dark brown and gelled it up into the same spikes that both he and Draco sported. With the aid of a few small glamours and some Muggle make-up, Remus was pretending to be a relatively young, out-of-work, wizard. He rather suspected that Calvin had exaggerated slightly, but it was too late now. With a sigh he walked up to the front door of the Parkinson Manor and knocked sharply.

About thirty seconds later, the door creaked open. Remus could not help peering forward, and jumped back suddenly as a large nose peered out at him. The nose was set in a thin, pinched face, and the accompanying eyes stared for a long moment at Remus. Finally, the doorwarden spoke. "Good morning. You must be John Lupin?"

Remus nodded eagerly. "Yes, Mr. Birtwhistle. We spoke via the Floo an hour ago. I'm here to ask about ..." He filled his voice with youthful enthusiasm, but was swiftly interrupted.

"Yes. Please come in, Mr. Lupin, and follow me."

Remus followed the man, who led him into a narrow hallway and then into a tastefully decorated study. Mr. Birtwhistle took a seat behind the desk, and indicated that Remus should sit.

"I am Mr. Parkinson's steward. As such, I run his household and liaise between his different business operations. As such, I am responsible for recruiting and assigning people to different parts of the various Parkinson businesses. We are always looking for people who are keen to work, Mr. Lupin, and have work for all skill levels. I do warn you, however, that Mr. Parkinson insists upon personally interviewing all applicants, however briefly. I will review your documents and preliminary application, and decide on what kind of work might be suitable, and then pass on my advice to Mr. Parkinson."

Remus ducked his head, and found it surprisingly easy to find the requisite nervous look. "Very good, Mr. Birtwhistle. I've filled in the form you sent over by Floo earlier. And here's my papers." He pulled some slightly crumpled papers out of his robe pocket, tried fruitlessly to straighten them, and handed them over with a crooked grin. The papers were the weak link in his ploy. There was his birth certificate and some hastily mocked up O.W.L. certificates, and a reference from a previous job; Remus hoped that they would be convincing. If not, he would have to run pretty fast. It was unusual to request a birth certificate, and so Remus had decided to use his middle name so that he could use a copy of his real birth certificate, only lightly modified. That should get round the magical tests for validity.

Mr. Birtwhistle flicked through the papers, somewhat distastefully, before setting them down. "Mr. Parkinson is a busy man, Mr. Lupin, but he should be able to see you later today. So, your references state that you have experience with construction?"

"Yes, Mr. Birtwhistle. I worked with the Bulstrode Building Corporation for a few months, on Puddlemere United's new pitch. I've also served as a courier for a little bit, for Windall's Broom Boys."

Mr. Birtwhistle sneered a little and glanced down at Remus' fake papers. "So I see. And in which field of magic are you strongest, Mr. Lupin?"

Remus said eagerly, "Oh, Charms! That was always my strong spot. I've got an excellent Digging Charm, if I say so myself."

Mr. Birtwhistle nodded absently, and pulled out his wand. He quickly performed the incantation that checked the validity of the birth certificate, and both it and Remus glowed a soft blue for a second. Remus tried not to sigh with relief; it had worked. Mr. Birtwhistle looked up unapologetically. "If you are to work with us, I should warn you that several of our businesses interact with Muggle companies. I hope that that will not be a problem. We have an excellent rating with the International Statute of Secrecy Organization, and Mr. Parkinson would be most upset if we lost out ISSO 996 rating."

Remus nodded quickly, "That won't be a problem at all, Mr. Birtwhistle."

"Good." Mr. Birtwhistle paused. "One final question, and I am very sorry to ask this, but are you related to Mr. Remus Lupin, the werewolf." He said the last word distastefully.

Remus had prepared for this question, and nodded his head regretfully. "I'm afraid so, Mr. Birtwhistle. He's my second cousin, twice removed. I've never met him, though." He looked steadfastly at the floor, trying to look contrite.

Mr. Birtwhistle nodded. "Thank you for being honest with me, Mr. Lupin. Your relation will not prejudice your case."

"Oh, thank you, sir. So many people can be so quick to judge."

Mr. Birtwhistle smiled generously. "Mr. Parkinson is a very good employer. Now, he should be able to see you in a few minutes, and after that we can discuss your pay."

Remus nodded eagerly, and followed Mr. Birtwhistle through several corridors to another study. The Parkinson Manor was rather large. Roger Parkinson was seated in the second study, at a desk covered in papers. He was a large, rather tubby man, with a neatly trimmed beard. He looked up as Mr. Birtwhistle approached, and said, "Ah, Magnus. Is this the applicant you mentioned?" He smiled welcomingly at Remus. "John Lupin, wasn't it?"

Remus hurried forward, trying to look self-conscious. "Yes, Mr. Parkinson. Ever so pleased to meet you."

"And how did you hear about my businesses, John?"

"I was in the area, round Ilkley, and everyone said that if a body was looking for work, he could find it with the Parkinsons. I want to work, if there's a place for me."

Roger Parkinson smiled expansively, looking for all the world like a benevolent father. "I'm always happy to allow people to reach their potential, John. I hope that you will fit in here." He paused, as if something had just occurred to him. "Are you related to Remus Lupin, John?"

Remus grimaced. "I was just saying to Mr. Birtwhistle here, that, er, he's my second cousin, twice removed. I've never met him personally. Can't say as that I care for werewolves much."

Mr. Parkinson laughed at that. "Please forgive me for asking, John. I'm sure it's a sore spot. Now, if you'll forgive me one more intrusion ..."

Remus nodded, and Roger picked his wand up off his desk, and gestured, "Reveal." Remus winced, and felt the glamours disappear. He hoped that the make-up was convincing.

He twisted his hands together. "I'm sorry, sir. I was just trying to look my best for the interview."

Roger Parkinson looked him up and down, and laughed again. "Don't fret, my boy. Quite understandable. We just like to check that people are who they say they are."

Not long after, Remus was walking towards Hengist's Cup with a spring in his step for any observers. He was to start work tomorrow on some unspecified construction project in the neighbourhood. He Flooed out of the pub to the Leaky Cauldron and then strolled along Diagon Alley, trying to spot any tails. He tried to look like a silly youth with the prospect of cash in the future, and browsed through all of the shops. He slipped inside Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes, feeling it would fit with his assumed persona. The Weasley twins no longer served at the counter; instead a sour-looking blonde was sat there. A large, mottled egg caught his eye. It looked like a dragon's egg, and it made him think of Tonks' current work assignment. He touched it delicately, a bit worried about possible side-effects. As soon as he made contact, the egg cracked open with a bang and an illusory Hungarian Horntail reared up, beat its wings and breathed a plume of flame towards Remus. Remus was startled, even though he had been expecting a surprise. The illusion was surprisingly detailed.

He glanced over at the saleswoman, and she shrugged. "It repairs itself in a few seconds, and is ready to go again. We have versions of all of the main Dragon species." She sounded rather bored. The illusory dragon started to circle Remus' head, before diving towards the floor and swooping back up into the face of the assistant. With a little roar it sent forth another jet of flame. The assistant looked very annoyed and said sharply, "Finite Incantatem." The dragon disappeared instantly.

Remus suddenly pictured throwing the trick egg to an unsuspecting Tonks, and was sorely tempted to buy one. They could all use cheering up. He smirked and bounced over, figuring that it would fit in with his character if anyone were following. In fact, it was positively his duty to buy one. "How much?"

"Five Galleons."

"Five Galleons!" Remus did not have to fake surprise. "That's an awful lot for a joke."

The woman shrugged. "The illusion's pretty complicated. And it's guaranteed for five years."

"It is quite funny, isn't it? I know someone it would be perfect for." He paused. "I guess I can afford a treat like this just this once though. I've just got a new job, up north with Roger Parkinson."

The woman stared at him blankly for a moment longer. "Right. Wait here, and I'll go and get you one. What Dragon do you want?"

"Oh, a Chinese Fireball, I think."

The woman sauntered into the storeroom, and returned a few minutes later with a box containing the joke egg. "Here you go. Have fun."

Remus nodded, paid, shrank the box and picked it up. He was a bit bemused as to how the woman kept her job; her sales manner had been less than ideal. He glanced down at the box and grinned. He hoped that Tonks would find it funny.

Back in Diagon Alley he wandered for a bit longer, before Apparating twice to try to avoid any pursuit. He ended up in a small alley close to the Green Dragon. A quick spell altered his robes into something a bit more Muggle-friendly, and then he walked into the pub. It was not even two o'clock, and so he was just in time for lunch.

Draco was serving at the bar, and nodded companionably at Remus, clearly not recognizing him. Remus smirked, and ordered sausage and mash. After finishing, he waited until Draco left at the end of the shift. Following him out of the door, he tapped him on the shoulder, and laughed as Draco jumped and whirled round. "Hi Bobby."

Draco looked at him, and then figured it out. "Ha, Lupin! I thought you weren't going to show. Like the hair, by the way, brush-head! Leastways, I reckon Tonks will approve."

Remus scowled and ran his hand through his hair, mussing it up. Draco laughed, "Well, that's an improvement."

Last night, over lunch, Remus had let slip that he planned to go to a Muggle library to look over old newspapers. Draco had revealed that he had a computer and 'The Internet' at his flat. Remus had not quite understood what 'The Internet' was, but Draco had sworn that it would be much easier to access the Muggle news using it, than going to the library and paging through copies of old newspapers, so they had arranged to meet up this afternoon.

Draco lived in a messy bachelor's flat, with clothes flung about all over. He got them both a beer from the fridge, and turned on a radio, and then the computer. Remus looked round in befuddlement – the room was filled with Muggle stuff. "Don't you have a problem with the electricity, Drake?"

"Nah. I don't use any magic in this room, so there's no interference. Plus, no Floo network. So, have you used the Internet before, Remus?"

Remus shook his head. "What does it do?"

"Well," said Draco, "It's like a big library of information that you can get at any time, all in that machine. It's got loads of news, but I don't usually follow that. Still, I know where to find it."

It took a while, but Remus finally figured out how to operate the computer and the web browser. He was quite astounded at the Internet, saying to Draco, "It's a miracle. It's like magic. How on earth does it work?"

Draco tapped the side of his nose. "Muggle secrets. Actually, this PC is really slow, but it's the best I could get. On most computers, the pages load up faster than you can blink."

Several hours later, Remus and Draco were both horrified. They had thought that they had problems, but the Muggles had them a thousand-fold over. Apparently there was a constant terrorist threat against Britain and many other countries, and the bomb alert that Remus had experienced was part of a much larger trend. In addition to these home-grown problems, people had been going missing, or very occasionally being mauled by animals on full moons for well over six months now. The attacks had touched most parts of the country, and were growing increasingly numerous. Yesterday, one reporter had made the link with the full moon, but from paging through her article record, it was clear that she was a couple of slices of bread short of a sandwich.

When Remus had expressed surprise that no-one had noticed before, Draco had observed that Muggles did not really look at the sky at night, and so most would have no idea about the status of the moon. He observed drily, "Hell, I know werewolves exist, and I hadn't linked up all of these attacks. Or even noticed them as a trend." He paused, and then asked, "So what's the deal, Remus? I know that there's a bit of an anti-werewolf campaign going on in the wizarding world at the moment, but I don't really keep up with the details.

"I mean, you're at Tonks' place because you got chucked out of your old one?" At Remus' reluctant nod he continued. "And now you've had a haircut and a splash of make-up for some kind of cloak-and-dagger operation, I'd guess. And that must mean that Tonks doesn't trust her fellow Aurors." He paused and looked upwards thoughtfully. "On second thoughts, that looks dangerous; do I really want to know?"

Remus rubbed his chin thoughtfully, but then decided that he just did not know enough about this new Draco. He would not hve trusted the old Draco as far as he could throw him. It was also clear that neither Tonks nor Cal had said anything to him.

Draco spoke again. "On the other hand, if you're working undercover, you'll be needing some assistance. Perhaps I'll have a word with Tonks." He grinned cheekily. "I know who the boss is in your relationship!"

Remus glared at Draco, and opened his mouth, but could not find a witty rejoinder. He settled for saying sniffily, "We don't have a relationship." Draco patted him on the shoulder and laughed.