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Snape was going to kill her.

Tonks trudged toward the school, trying to think of something, anything, except a sardonic professor's likely reaction to what she was going to tell him. She glanced up. Although the moon was not yet visible, she could feel it. Instead of giving off rays of warmth like the sun, the moon felt like a cool draft wafting across the nape of her neck. It made the hairs stand on end. Whether it was due to fancy or her bond with Remus, the sensation was eerie.

She stumbled on a rock. A kick sent the stone crashing into the underbrush. Tonks continued down the path, wondering why she was so clumsy. Whether on a rock or her own tongue, she was always tripping over something.

Unable to help it, her mind replayed events that had begun as a simple notification that off-duty hours would be spent away from the village.

The whole mess was really Proudfoot's fault. He and Dawlish had been playing chess when she came into the office midafternoon to give notice of her plans. Her superior, concentrating on his next move, listened with half an ear before nodding his approval. It was the usually quiet, non-officious man who ruined her getaway.

"Where are you going?" asked Proudfoot.

A little voice in the back of her mind warned her not to tell. She said the first thing that popped into her head. "Up to the castle."

The two Aurors exchanged a look that set her teeth on edge. Tonks wished that she'd said she was going to visit her parents or friends in London, because they obviously thought they'd caught her in something.

"More lessons with Snape?" said Proudfoot. When her eyes widened, he chuckled. "House-elves make the best informants."

She smiled as though amused. "Did you give them Butterbeer?"

"No need. They were happy to talk."

Wasn't there a saying that no good deed went unpunished? She was being paid back for saving Kreacher's tea towel. Tonks kept a smile on her face. "Yes, that's right. More lessons."

Dawlish studied her expression the way he had studied the chessboard. "What sort of lessons take all night to learn, Auror Tonks?"

His voice didn't have a suggestive inflection. It didn't need to. She flushed with anger. "Potions lessons, sir."

Proudfoot said, "Isn't tonight a full moon?"

Was he trying to bring up Remus? She took his statement at face value. "Yes. There are loads of ingredients to be harvested on a full moon."

Dawlish's eyebrows rose. "Name one."

"Boletophagus reticulatus," said Tonks. Mentally, she crossed fingers that he wouldn't ask for another example. Her Latin was a motley jumble of spells and love words. If she tried to make a name up, it would probably translate into something bizarrely kinky.

The men had another moment of silent communication. It reminded her of the times she and Jerry Connelly had done the same when working a case. A lifted eyebrow often meant 'do you believe the story?' A slight smile could translate to 'I can't find a hole in it so we have to give her the benefit of the doubt.' So she hoped.

"If we need to contact you?" said Dawlish.

Tonks said, "Send an owl."

"Why not a Patronus?"

Proudfoot was becoming her least favourite person with his inconvenient questions. She said, "Whatever you prefer."

The memory of the look in Dawlish's eyes when he'd dismissed her made Tonks long to kick the gates to Hogwarts open. He was going manufacture some reason to check up on her. She knew it. He didn't trust her, the bastard. A shove with the heels of her palms sent the gate swinging wide. She broke into a jog.

Snape wasn't in his office. Reluctantly, she headed for his private quarters.

After five minutes of slamming her fist against heavy oak, shouting, "Hey, Snape! It's Tonks. I need to talk to you! C'mon, open up!" he finally condescended to answer the door.

"Yes?"

She refused to let his frostiness put her off. "I need to talk to you."

"So I heard."

"In private," she said.

He curled his lip. "I expect no visitors."

Tonks huffed. "Fine. I need—"

"—Severus! There you are!" a woman's voice called.

Tonks muttered, "No visitors, huh?" before turning to wave.

The mediwitch halted with an expression of great surprise, "My heavens! I—I didn't expect you to have company, Severus. I—I hope I'm not intruding."

I—I bet you hope you are. Tonks had never thought about it before, but Pomfrey wasn't that much older than Snape, and there weren't many wizards under fifty teaching at Hogwarts. Professor Snarky probably got chatted up by female staff on a regular basis. She tried not to smile, but the idea was hilarious. "Wotcher, Madam Pomfrey," she said with a grin.

"Oh, it's you, is it? I expect you've been consulting with the Professor about school security?"

And now you can run along was implied. The dismissive tone rubbed Tonks the wrong way. Poppy Pomfrey might order people around in the hospital wing, but she had no authority elsewhere. "No, I'm off duty," Tonks said brightly.

"Off—"

"I expect she wants to consult with you about potions for the hospital cupboard," said Tonks, as though she didn't hear Pomfrey's sputtering. "Don't mind me, Severus. I'll go fix a drink while I wait."

Since Snape didn't protest when she boldly opened the door, Tonks took that as permission to slip inside the chamber.

The chair he had conjured on her last visit remained at one end of the centre table. A crystal decanter filled with an amber liquid and a couple of tumblers on a silver tray rested on top of the polished mahogany. She picked up a glass. Had Snape intended on asking her in and then changed his mind? Merlin, he was such an anti-social bat.

She used Aguamenti to fill the tumbler with water. Tonks took a sip before wandering over to a bookcase, glass in hand. Some of the texts looked really old. She ran a fingertip down the spine of a book bound in red leather. Venenum...

"Looking for a love potion?"

Tonks jumped, splashing her drink onto herself and the book she was bending to look at. "Shite!"

"Siccus."

She watched the book and her clothes become dry. "Handy spell."

"You would do well to learn it." Snape poured himself a drink.

Tonks made a face. "Believe me, I have it memorised." When he continued to observe her in silence, she said, "I thought it might be book on venomous snakes."

"You have an interest in reptiles?"

What did that mean? Was he asking if she was there to chat him up? "No!" she said vehemently. Afraid that she had offended, Tonks rushed to add, "Not that there's anything wrong with snakes. I'm into warm-blooded animals, but reptiles are cool, literally, ha-ha." His lack of reaction prompted her to admit, "I just liked the red leather. I have a dress that—you don't want to hear about." She stopped babbling; thinking that if the floor was ever going to open up and swallow her, this would be a good time.

Snape sat in his black leather chair. He flicked his fingers toward the other seat. "Why are you here?"

Tonks took a deep, calming breath. "I need your help."

"Explain."

She opened her mouth. Nothing came out. After a pause, Tonks said, "You can read lips, right?"

"Yes."

"Then I rather you...erm...saw for yourself." She leaned toward him. "Look for memories of Dawlish and Proudfoot."

Snape's lips twitched at one corner. "No widening of the eyes is necessary."

"That's good, because there's a draft in here, and my eyeballs were starting to feel dry and—I'll shut up now." Tonks bit her lip and tried to relax. This was much better than trying to explain with words. It was. Images began to flash against her mind's eye. She relived her interview with the Aurors, her trek up to the castle, and her irritation with Madam Pomfrey.

"Why didn't you tell Dawlish that you were going to see Lupin?"

Snape's quiet voice lulled her into answering, "I don't trust him."

"You trust me?"

He was looking at her with a detached, scientific air. Tonks felt like a bug scrutinised for possible use in a potion. "Yeah," she said. "Even if you hadn't saved me in the forest, when it comes to the Order, I trust you. Remus' mission has to be kept secret." She tried to smile. It came out lopsided. "Aside from Dumbledore, I bet nobody keeps secrets better than you."

Snape poured himself another drink. "Although Pomfrey is not known for gossip, she is certain to inform McGonagall—and perhaps others—of what she termed our liaison."

Tonks said, "Will that bother you?"

"No. You?"

She shrugged. "Let them talk. I'm sure Dawlish will inform others too, but I only care about Remus' safety."

He refilled her glass with water. "How will I contact you in Salford if Dawlish sends an owl or Patronus to the castle?"

She reached into a pocket. It was a wrench to slide the Melusine Mirror across the table.

"Lupin carries the matching communication mirror?"

"Yes."

Snape drank Firewhisky while she sipped the water. His spell made the water colder than hers had. Did that mean the rumour that ice water ran in his veins was true?

Her slight smile faded when he said, "My...assistance...comes at a price."

Tonks reached for the mirror. "You can't have it. That's my only way to talk to Remus. I need it, I—"

Snape held up his hand. "Not the mirror. The obsidian knife."

She knew it! There was something about that knife. First he wanted to make a trade and now he was demanding it in payment. Tonks said, "Okay, but I get to choose which one of your knives I want, and I'm not trading until after I learn to make Wolfsbane Potion." I'm not trading it until after I find out why you want it.

A gleam of some indefinable emotion flashed in Snape's eyes. He inclined his head. "Agreed." He stood. "There is a connection to the Floo Network in my office. I will alter the wards to enable you to use it."

Tonks almost stuck out her hand, but decided against it. She said, "Thank you, sir."

Snape raised an eyebrow. "Formality is no longer an option. Call me Severus, Nymphadora."

-

When The Standard Book of Spells Grade 1 and Magical Theory arrived by owl post that morning, Remus sat in the lounge and began to skim the texts. He soon regretted not taking the books to his room. The moment Will came home from spending the night at Lillie's, he saw the schoolbooks and immediately asked for a lesson.

"Not yet," Remus replied.

He was given a half hour of peace while Will cleaned the owl cage and took a shower. As soon as the boy had eaten the breakfast of eggs and bacon Remus had saved him, he said, "Got a lesson planned for me now, Professor?"

Remus explained that the day of the full moon was not an auspicious time for an unschooled werewolf to begin learning magic. "The peak of the lunar phase is a time when emotions run high and aggression is easily provoked," he said. "Attempting magic is not a good idea until the moon begins to wane."

Will stormed out of the house. He returned an hour later. "I took a long walk. I'm relaxed, not tense. I'm ready to learn."

"It isn't that simple," Remus said. "The first attempts at spell casting are often frustrating—"

"—bullshit!" snapped Will. He thrust out his jaw when Remus repeated his reasoning for delaying the first lesson. "More bullshit. Admit it. You can't be arsed because you'd rather read about magic than teach it!"

He stomped upstairs and slammed the door, closing himself off with Stryx for over four hours. Upon his return to the lounge, Will said around a yawn, "I tried clearing my mind of negative thoughts and fell asleep." He grinned. "Proves I did a stellar job." The boy stretched out on a futon. "Whenever you're ready to teach, I'll be here, waiting to learn."

Will rivalled Sirius Black in stubborn persistence. "There will be no lesson today." Remus struggled to keep his voice level. "I told you. The situation is too volatile."

"Not any longer," said Will. "I've let go of hostility. Really. I'm one with the universe or whatever. Try me and see. I won't get frustrated or take a swing at you, no matter what."

Remus shook his head. "Why am I not reassured?"

"Because you're an old woman?"

How many times had Sirius accused him of that? Remus gave Will the same reply. "Sensible? I thank you for the compliment."

"It wasn't a compliment," said Will, "It was—"

"Sexism and ageism you should be ashamed of? I agree."

A wary look flashed in green eyes. "I didn't mean—"

Remus cut Will off again. "To denigrate the strength and wisdom of old women?" He thought of Tonks' Gran and felt his temper rise. "I hope not, for your sake."

Will eyes flashed. "Why's that? You'll hex me?" In a mercurial shift, he laughed. "Or box my ears like Granny Ogg used to?"

"I won't teach you tomorrow, either," said Remus.

"Ah, hell, don't say that. It was only an expression. I'll try not to use it again."

How many times had Sirius made similar promises?

Might as well try to count the bottles of beer I've pissed away, mate, Remus could "hear" his friend say laughingly. A promise made under duress isn't binding, you know.

Remus knew that very well. He sighed and made a decision. "All right. We'll try an experiment—not a lesson," he said when Will crowed triumphantly. "An experiment to assess your ability to focus."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever you want to call it." Will sat on the edge of the futon opposite Remus, hands on his knees. "I'm ready."

"I could start with something out of the first year curriculum, but I think an adult mind, even untrained, should be capable of more advanced spellwork." Remus held out his hand toward a side table. "Accio quill." The feather on the surface instantly floated toward him. Remus plucked the quill out of the air and replaced it, nodding for Will to attempt the Summoning Charm.

The boy's brow furrowed in concentration. "Accio quill!"

Nothing happened. Will extended his hand toward the feather. "Accio quill!"

"Did you see it twitch?" he asked, hope threading his voice.

"There was a slight breeze from the open window," said Remus.

Will tried again and failed, several times. He filled the air with curses.

"Concentrate," Remus said sternly. Sympathy was the last thing Will needed. The boy was already prone to allowing self pity to manifest into self-defeating behaviour. "Magic is like air. It's all around you. For a wizard, it is an energy waiting to be harnessed."

"Maybe I'm a Squib."

"Maybe you are."

Remus' level tone made Will's eyes blaze with fury. "I thought you were different, but you're just like my father! You don't think I can do it. You want me to fail!" He stabbed a finger toward the feather, yelling, "Accio bloody quill!"

It was a toss up who was more shocked when the feather zoomed like a tiny arrow to bury its tip into Will's hand.

While Remus stared, his pupil began to howl with laughter. "Look at that! A bloody quill!" He held up his palm for his teacher to see the blood starting to pool. "Be careful with magic, eh? Damned well gave me exactly what I asked for!"

"Yes, indeed." Remus pulled out the quill, performing a Healing Charm to stop the bleeding.

"Thanks," said Will. He ducked his head. "I mean it for...everything...okay?"

"You're welcome." Remus smiled. "However, seeing the result of your first spell, I must advise against summoning blunt objects." He waited until Will stopped sniggering to say, "I also advise you not to attempt too many Summoning Charms. I once had a friend who was forced to rely on wandless magic. The prolonged strain led to blinding headaches."

"Don't worry. I won't strain anything. Lillie would be the one to hex me if I told her I had a headache." Will's face lit up. "I've got to tell her what happened!" He bounded to the door. "See you later, Professor!"

Remus looked at the clock. There were still hours to kill before Nymphadora would arrive. He decided to take a long walk, hoping it would release some of the tension building inside him. Without Wolfsbane, his nerves felt tightly strung. Emotions were heightened. Man and werewolf were united in their restless need for their mate. It was a disturbing feeling.

He ended up at The Quays. The former docks had jetties installed, yet nothing was moored there. Only a ferry currently traversed the waters. In news articles, Remus read that city planners envisioned developing the waterfront until it bustled like Shanghai. He didn't see that happening in the near future. The Muggle economy didn't seem strong enough to support it.

Remus turned his eyes from uninspiring architecture to the sight that always inspired. He would never go bathing in the canal, but the view was magnificent. He stood watching the sunlight sparkle on the water until his stomach rumbled. With a sigh, he retraced his steps.

He found Will sprawled on a futon littered with quills, parchment, newspapers and various kitchen implements. The boy groaned, rubbing the heels of his palms against his temples. "I may have cast one Summoning Charm too many."

Remus went upstairs and fetched a headache potion.

"Won't you need this for tomorrow?" Will asked.

"I have others."

Will drank the potion in two swallows. "Must be nice to have a rich girlfriend."

"I don't think of her that way."

"No need to growl. I wish Lillie had stuck with her mediwitch program. She deserves to live better than this." Will snorted. "Everyone does."

In the silence that fell, Remus' stomach gurgled audibly.

Will laughed. "That kind of growling I can relate to. Is there anything left to eat in this place?"

Remus headed to the kitchen. "I saved a packet of minced beef." He put a skillet on the stove, formed two huge burgers, and placed them in the pan.

"I want mine rare," said Will, drawing in the scent in a way others might use for a bouquet of roses.

After flipping the burgers, Remus waited a minute before removing them from the skillet. "How's this?"

"Bleedin' perfect," sighed Will.

Remus eyed the red seeping from his meat and heartily agreed.

The satisfaction of one hunger held another at bay until the afternoon shadows began to lengthen. Pacing the confines of his room, Remus began to fear that Nymphadora had been refused leave. Worry gnawed at his nerves. He resisted the urge to use the communication mirror until his internal clock warned that he would soon have to enter the safe room.

"Nymphadora," he called softly, cradling the mirror in both hands. His face continued to be the only one reflected. Remus didn't know what to think. "Nymphadora," he said. "Anyone."

He almost dropped the mirror when a man's face appeared. Remus said, "Where's Nymphadora, Snape?"

"Using the Floo in my office. She gave me the mirror in case Dawlish attempts to contact her."

Remus forced himself to concentrate. "She told Dawlish—"

"That she is spending the night at the castle. Correct. Nymphadora feared if her superior knew she was in Salford, he would endanger your mission." The last word was accompanied by a sneer.

Remus winced. It wasn't due to the thinly-veiled contempt. He was used to that, and refused to let Snape's fear-driven animosity goad him. The flinch was due to the ghostly howls ringing in his ears. It was as though the beast inside was trying to announce his presence and warn away a potential threat. The noise was almost deafening. "I have to go," he muttered. "I'll bring the mirror with me."

"Lupin!"

Remus broke the connection. Let Snape think what he liked. He cared only about getting to the safe room in time.

Will was at the top of the stairs. "What's wrong with you?" he said, following as Remus staggered toward the bedroom divided into padded cages for werewolves.

"I have to fasten my restraints before it's too late," Remus said hoarsely. "I'm going to turn. I can feel it." He shut the door in Will's bewildered face.

"But it's not time!" Remus could hear Will say as the boy settled into his cell-like room next door. The chamber was soundproof from the outside, not within. "I don't turn until the moonlight comes in the window."

Remus set aside the mirror and stepped into the containment circle drawn on the floor. He had barely fastened the last shackle when his body and mind succumbed to what some called Dark magic and others a curse.

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A/N: I usually thank every reader who reviewed in this space, but this week I felt the need to dedicate the chapter to one in particular. In the story before this one, I used a quote by a man named John Taylor to describe Sirius. Sadly, it came to mind Tuesday night when I heard about a reader who had passed on. While we are mourning the loss of our friend, others are rejoicing to meet (her) beyond the veil. I'm deeply thankful for all the encouragement Kileaiya gave me, and hope readers will send up a prayer for her family.