As I walked down the street after my crying jag on the London Eye, I passed by a lovely bed and breakfast. 'Hyde Park Radnor' the sign read. It was a picture perfect Muggle establishment. I slipped inside and arranged for a room. Tomorrow I would return to the Leaky Cauldron one last time to gather my belongings, but I'd spend tonight here.

Before I went upstairs, I ask the desk attendant whether she knew of any ancient woods, somewhere a person could walk about and enjoy nature. She helpfully guided me to a website on the complimentary guest computer that detailed all of the forests in England. The Wye Valley area sounded nice, large and Muggle-like. It should be safe to wait out full moon there.

In my newly rented hotel room, I laid out my plans as I drank my Wolfsbane potion. I would gather a change in clothes and finish up my assignments tomorrow. Afterwards, I would need to settle my bill at the Leaky Cauldron and then snag the last train that went out to the Wye Valley region. The train ride would give me enough time to type up my resignation and if I was lucky, my final report. Once the full moon had set, I would take time to rest and put any finishing touches needed on my work before catching a flight back to New York and the start of my new life. My superiors at the USBMS would not like my abrupt resignation, but I would try my best to give them the standard two weeks before I pulled the plug.

Sleep came swiftly as did dreams of running beneath the moon. In them, I raced through the woods but not alone. Another werewolf ran alongside me, no matter how hard I tried to elude him or how fast I ran. Dawn arrived to find me already awake and restless. I funneled my energy into the tasks I had laid out, starting with retrieving a set of clothes.

The Leaky Cauldron was nearly empty this early in the morning. As much as I hadn't wanted to, I ended up wearing my bracelet in order to gain entrance. A quick wash up, a change of clothes and I was ready to finish my last bit of business. I'd be back later to pack my belongings, but for the moment I set my sights on a place called Little Whining.

Before I had arrived in England, one of the rumors we had heard of was an odd occurrence of an attack of a Muggle linked to magic. The official account our office received from the Ministry was unsatisfactory, to say the least. It had not been part of my original set of tasks, but since I was here it was reasoned I could look into it off the record as well.

I found the location was not far from Heathrow Airport, and after having paid the taxicab, set out to walk the area. According to the locals, it was unseasonably hot. Normally I would disagree, but the looming moon altered by perception. I ignored the trickle of sweat that crept down my back and focused on finding the alleyway mentioned in the report, somewhere near Magnolia Crescent and Wisteria Walk. It wasn't as if I expected to find a scent nearly a month after the attack, not even the enhanced senses of a werewolf could do that, but my superiors wanted me to nose around the area nonetheless.

I located the alleyway and noted the high fence on one side that faced a wall of garages. The weeds that managed to grow in odd corners were straggly, but the heat could account for that. It wasn't until I interviewed one Arrabella Figg that I came across anything concrete. The file noted that she was the Squib that spoke as a witness during the Hearing – they held a full hearing for this? My nose told me it was a good thing that I had found her puttering around outdoors; the many cats that she obviously owned would have found a werewolf's presence disturbing, to say the least.

The other thing my senses told me was that Mrs. Figgs was truthful about what she believed had transpired in the alleyway. Her heart rate remained even, her perspiration did not increase and her scent, redolent of cats, never showed a spike in anxiety or fear. Like most werewolves, I was close to a walking lie detector in that respect.

At least most of the time. 'James' certainly had me fooled yesterday. It was my fault that I had so readily trusted him in the first place, though. One whiff of male werewolf scent ...

I firmly pushed that out of my mind. My tears had all been spent and I needed to wrap things up. After thanking Mrs. Figgs for her time, I called for a taxi. I spent the ride back jotting down notes. Why the Ministry hadn't simply required the Potter boy to share his memories via a Pensieve of the events at the Triwizard Cup or the recent attack by Dementors was beyond perplexing; it was just one step short of stupid. The lawyer side of me was insulted. But that wouldn't be my problem once I turned in my resignation. If the rumors of a long dead dark wizard somehow making a comeback turned out to be true, then the Bureau would have to determine how to handle any collateral damage without the assistance of this Mundane werewolf.

The rest of my day was spent tracking down miscellaneous tidbits of information, none of which yielded anything of significance. It was tedious work, something a junior agent could have easily handled. Knowing that did nothing to sooth the restlessness of the wolf lurking beneath my skin. I ended the day in front of the Leaky Cauldron more than a little foot-worn, tired of the smell of car exhaust and frustrated with the meaningless tasks that had filled a good portion of my day.

What I need is a drink before I go pack up my stuff and then to find a nice restaurant, preferably one that serves a good, rare steak.

In the common room I stopped at the bar and ordered a shot of Ogden's Old Firewhisky. The patron next to me rudely stared until I began to wonder if I had grown a second head. It smelled like he hadn't seen a bath in week and under that, faintly of cat. I couldn't help but be reminded of Mrs. Figg. Between my hunger, his odor and his beady eyes, the fellow got under my skin.

"What's your problem?" I finally asked after enduring his non-stopping gawking for a solid ten minutes. "Never seen a Muggle werewolf drink before?" He nearly fell off his stool. "Don't worry, I don't bite. At least not much." I slammed down the empty shot glass.

When I left to my room, eyes trailed my path up the stairs and I ignored them. In fifteen minutes, twenty at the most, I would be asked to leave the establishment. This would, for all intents and purposes, be the beginning of my exit from the realm of magic. Tomorrow's resignation letter would simply be the icing on the cake.

I breathed in sharply through my nose to try and clear the stench of rude guy from my nostrils and calm myself. At once I was teased by the memory of Remus' scent. I don't belong in his world, I reminded myself. I never had. I keyed the lock and opened the door to enter.

As the door swung back, I saw him. Remus stood at the dingy window staring out; his head leaned against the glass. I drank the sight of him in those rumpled robes like a long, cool drink. He turned towards me as I stepped inside. Emotions flitted across his features; concern was chased by relief.

I closed the door firmly behind me not knowing quite what to say, half afraid to breath. Seeing Remus again was not part of the plans I had laid. I had bade my farewells on the London Eye.

"Sarah."

My name on his lips cut deeply into the protective numbness around my heart. Not a good sign. I gave myself a stern mental shake. Remus is here out of some sense of obligation, nothing more. Remember that pretty pink-haired witch? It would be best if I stuck with my plan: pack quickly, settle my bill and leave. No good could come from any other path.

"I'm sorry-" We both started to speak at the same time. He graciously waved a hand for me to continue. It was a pure Remus-like gesture, something I remembered him doing when we were children, always letting me speak first. I needed to send him away before my heart started bleeding again. I dredged up the image of pristine mountains and held onto it like a shield.

"I apologize for the letter. It was presumptuous of me and totally unnecessary."

Remus shook his head and was about to speak when I cut him off.

"No, really. I panicked. I know the laws regulating werewolves here in England are much harsher than in America. I guess I temporarily lost my head."

I dropped my purse on the bed that separated us and bent to pull the luggage from underneath. I kept up the flow of words as I plopped the suitcase next to the purse. A bright smile was pasted on my lips that didn't quite reach my eyes. It was hard not to breath in his scent.

"I plan on heading up to the Wye Valley area. It's supposed to be a large, isolated forest, right? Should be some local Muggle inns or bed and breakfasts around. I'll just grab a room and spend the evening in the woods. I have my Wolfsbane potion."

All the while I was running my mouth, I was pulling open drawers, snatching my clothes and shoving them into the suitcase. Luckily I had packed light. As I opened the last drawer, Remus came up and laid a hand on my arm, stopping both me and my mouth. His hand was hot against my skin. My breath came quickly and I struggled to keep an even tone.

"Please tell me you didn't come all this way because of that silly letter. I'm sure your girlfriend would rather you head back home."

"Girlfriend?" His brow furrowed. "Do you mean Tonks, the witch with the pink hair?"

I simply nodded, holding my breath without even knowing why.

"She's not my girlfriend, Sarah. Tonks is merely an associate." His mildly spoken words undid me. "As far as your letter is concerned, I came to tell you that I do remember chasing fireflies. Rather fondly, in fact."

Standing that close to him, I could no longer ignore his tantalizing scent; I could practically taste it on my tongue. My gaze was dragged upwards towards warm brown eyes I had never forgotten, with their flecks of gold. A strong, primal desire to bury my nose alongside his neck, just under his jaw and back towards his ear overcame me momentarily, made me unconsciously lean closer. It was purely wolf instinct, but I thought I saw the same desire reflected in his eyes.

The moment was broken by a series of sharp knocks on my door. I jerked away from Remus, grateful for the disturbance; my hand fluttered up to brush back a stray lock of hair. "That would be management. They just realized they have been renting a room to an undesirable."

I seized my purse on the way to the door, making sure to keep a bright and happy smile plastered firmly to my face. Sure enough, there was the landlord. At his back was a large, seedy wizard.

Oh goodie, little ol' me rates some muscle in getting thrown out.

"Gentlemen, what a coincidence! I was just on my way to see you," I gushed like a blonde bimbo. "I wanted to speak with you about settling my bill. My business here has concluded early and I will be leaving within the hour."

Tom opened and closed his toothless mouth resembling a fish out of water. My ditzy behavior had confused him as I compliment the service I had received. As he stuttered the amount, I pulled out my money. It gave me perverse pleasure to see the tables turned on a non-werewolf. Remus watched the interaction without speaking a word, but I could feel the weight of his gaze on my back the entire time. Finally done, I closed the door and leaned back against it, arms crossed more to protect myself than anything else.

"Why didn't you tell me, Sarah?"

There was no need to ask what he was referring to. The sad timbre to his voice and the look of regret on his face spoke volumes. It was the same look he had worn the first few weeks after the incident.

I shrugged, aiming for nonchalance. "I didn't change for the first time until I was fourteen. Lycanthropy takes time to fully emerge in Muggles. Three years had passed at that point." I dropped my eyes to the floor, unable to look Remus in the face. "I didn't want to intrude on your life, not after the warning in that last letter from Hogwarts."

I heard his footsteps as he approached. His shoes were the same brown as his robes; both looked equally battered. Were werewolves really treated so little respect that Remus had difficulty supporting himself?

"What do you mean?" he asked. "I told you in my last letter that would be arriving in a week."

I shook my head. There had been no letter about his impending arrival. "I'm referring to the one from Hogwarts itself, telling me that it would be best if I stopped writing you. I was informed that a friendship with a Muggle was inappropriate and a distraction that a young wizard-in-training could ill-afford." I lifted my face to meet his widening eyes.

Remus shook his head in disbelief. "Sarah, no, your friendship was never a distraction! On the contrary, it was the only reason I made it through those first few weeks." He ran a hand through his hair. "I went to Thetford on Christmas break looking for you, Sarah, but you were gone. Your house was empty." Emotion made his hoarse voice rough. "I can't believe anyone would send such a letter from Hogwarts. Who wrote it, do you remember? Dumbledore would never authorize -"

He stopped abruptly and his eyes lost their focus. A grim smile twisted his lips. "Actually, I think I know who wrote it."

"Your friend, perhaps? James or Sirius or whoever he is?" It would make sense. That Animagus had been altogether too charming.

Remus nodded once. "Sirius, yes, but I can see where James might have been involved long ago. I need to exchange a few words with Sirius, but for now, allow me to apologize for his behavior." He cocked his head to the side. "His loyalty and concern were … misplaced."

How could I not accept his apology? He had just told me that that horrible letter was not true. He had looked for me at Christmas when all along I thought I had been discarded because I was a Muggle. I bobbed my head and resumed packing. The clock was ticking and I doubted management would allow me to stay much longer.

"Regarding Wye Valley, Sarah …"

I glanced up at him as I locked up my suitcase. "Yes?"

"It has a fine old forest, but I wouldn't recommend it. Several members of the Ministry have estates in the vicinity." He laid his hands on top of the suitcase, almost touching mine. "However, I do know of a safe, secluded spot where there are fireflies."

The ghost of the mischievous smile I remember so well tugged at his lips. I struggled to stay focus and not return his grin with one of my own.

"Fireflies, you say?"

He nodded and with one finger caressed the back of my hand. My stomach fluttered in response and I couldn't stop my sudden inhalation or keep my heart from racing at his touch. Remus knew damn well the effect he was having on me.

"I promise."

Those two little words froze me in place. Promises were something I had grown to dislike over the years. They were pretty little things, like brightly-wrapped presents that more often than not were filled with nothing more than dust and broken dreams. Remus and I had made many promises as children, but they had fallen apart. Other promises had come and gone as well in my life. Why trust promises?

Yet the warmth I saw in Remus' eyes spoke to my heart and his scent, musky and untamed as it was, reassured me that he was sincere. If I accepted that little promise of fireflies, I could be opening myself to more pain. If I didn't, I might always regret never taking the chance.

His fingers slipped to the charm bracelet and briefly stroked the charm he had given me. "I never make a promise I don't intend to keep, Sarah."

The image of mountains in my mind melted away like mist in the face of those gold-flecked eyes. I took a tremulous breath as I made a leap of faith and smiled.

"I'll hold you to your word, Remus John Lupin."

Remus escorted me to the Hyde Park Radnor. Traveling with a wizard had its advantages. He Side-Along Apparated me to an alley across the street from the bed and breakfast. I was grateful since this meant not having to brave the rude stares and comments I would have received in the bar of the Leaky Cauldron.

It was in that alley that the unexpected happened. I turned to say goodbye as he leaned his head towards mine and our lips met. It was brief and utterly chaste, like the kisses we had shared as kids long ago, yet it left me breathless. He gave me a wolfish grin that sent my heart speeding once more before keeping watch from the shadows as I crossed the street. I glanced back as I reached the glass door of the establishment. A bar of light from a nearby streetlamp illuminated part of his face, then he stepped back in the shadows and disappeared.

It was after a much-needed cold shower that I realized why the name Sirius had sent up a flag in my mind. In bed, I weighed the information in my mind against the image of Remus for a long moment, and then decided it wasn't important.

My sleep that night was filled with wolf dreams and the untamed scent of promises.