After what seemed like an age, the tears finally stopped. Remus wiped them from his face tiredly. He didn't have the slightest clue of what to do.

Money was a worry that never quite left. It pestered and wandered around his mind, but never wandered towards the exit. It slept in the back of his mind. It had settled in his house like a monster lurking in the shadows, ever present.

He ran his fingers through his hair. He was instantly reminded of James's old habit, the one they had used to laugh and joke about.

iNo, let's not go there,/i he thought, trying to block out the memories.

Instead his roving mind wandered to Sirius. Of all topics to think about, his mind had to jump to Sirius.

iTraitor/i, he thought vengefully. But even as he thought it, he didn't believe it. His heart told him otherwise. But then again, his heart was out of order and broken.

Remus imagined Sirius sitting in a dark, dank cell and shivered. He knew only too well the effects the dementors of Azkaban had on a living, breathing human being. Somehow, he just could not place Sirius's handsome, happy face in a place like that. It just didn't fit. The happier memories of laughter and mischief warred brutally with reality.

How he hated that word. Reality. He knew exactly what it meant. He had learned at the age of five.

iNo, you're not thinking about that again, either,/i he told himself. He relived it often enough in his nightmares, in what used to be his worst dreams.

For a long while, he sat and thought about his predicament. He did not want to do anything; he wanted to mourn. But he had to do something to get back on his feet again. He could only hope he didn't fall again.

One slight possibility came to mind. Remus wearily got to his feet and mustered up the energy to Apparate.

No one in the dark and dingy bar thought it at all strange when a man seemingly appeared out of thin air. The low chatter and the clink of glasses went on undisturbed.

Remus looked around the famous Leaky Cauldron. It was awfully small for being so famous.

Tom, the toothless but personable barkeeper, called out, "The usual, Remus?"

Remus shook his head, all he could do over the din, and made his way to the tiny brick courtyard at the rear of the bar.

All that was in the courtyard was a few overfilled rubbish bins and a brick wall. Scraggly weeds grew between the cracks in the stone. Not a bird or flower was to be seen. Normally Remus would have thought it needed some decorations, but not now.

Remus sized up the dull, red bricks, eyes narrowed as he counted them. He strode forward, pulled out his birch wand, and tapped a short sequence on the bricks.

They magically melted back and formed a tall archway, revealing the loud and busy streets of Diagon Alley.

He stepped into the crowd, soaking up the sounds, smells, and colors like a sponge. They did not match his mood; it was much to cheerful for him. He wasn't ready for all the hustle and bustle.

Nevertheless, Remus ambled down the street, appraising the shops and looking for one in particular. At last, his eye hit upon Florean's Ice Cream Parlor. Florean was an acquaintance from his school years. He had been a year above them, and had always been friendly to Remus. Remus knew he was a good man and thought he would understand the circumstances.

A tiny bell tinkled cheerfully as he walked into the parlor. It was occupied by only a few early morning stragglers, but decked in bright colors with a happy atmosphere. Remus kept his eyes down, focusing on the blue patterned linoleum.

Florean, a sizeable man with a jolly laugh, and a ready smile, looked up from the papers he was working on behind the counter.

"Hello, Remus! Long time, no see!" he said jovially, walking over to Remus and clapping him on the back. "How's it been going?"

Obviously he had forgotten.

Remus attempted a small smile but failed miserably.

"Er… not so great, after –" Remus could not finish the sentence.

"Aye, that was sad, the Potter murders was. Pity, they were such good people."

Remus only nodded, a catch in his throat. Florean, noting his obvious discomfort, changed the topic. Remus was grateful, even if it had been blatantly obvious.

"So, what can I do for you?" Remus drew him out of the curious customers' earshot.

"I'm looking for a job." Florean frowned slightly, looking puzzled.
"Why?" he asked, showing genuine interest.
Remus was silent. He gestured in the air with his hand, unsure of what to say.
"After… er…" Florean realized what he was talking about (he had never been very tactful) and nodded sympathetically.

"Well then, if ye'd like a job, I'm happy to give ye one." Florean smiled.

Remus, however, was not so pleased. He hesitated, deliberating. But once again his mind made a decision. And once again it proved that it had a false sense.

"Er, there's something I should tell you first…" Remus shuffled his feet slightly.

Florean nodded, indicating that he should go on.

"I'm a werewolf." Remus's voice came out quietly, although he had intended it to sound confident. But he wasn't confident, and he had always been a terrible liar.

Florean ingested this new and sudden information.

"Well, in that case," he said, equally quiet, "you can just go now."

Remus was confused and hurt, but asked no questions. He backed away uncertainly. burning with shame. He hardly registered the cheerful tinkling of the bell as he left the shop, but was very painfully aware of the customers' stares and whispers.

Remus wandered up the cobbled streets, weaving through the throng of people, until he dropped onto a vacant bench in front of Flourish and Blott's.

He felt like he'd been slapped in the face. Hard. Why were people mean like this? He simply didn't understand. He never would; these people didn't know what it felt like, and they wouldn't understand either until it happened to them.

Remus wandered dejectedly up the street back towards the Leaky Cauldron, hoping for a drink and a chat with Tom, if he was not too busy. He rarely was too busy, though. Tom was a good and loyal friend, and he knew about Remus's condition. You could always trust him to keep a secret, and he was an excellent confidant. Tom would understand.

Remus stepped up his pace a bit, hoping to catch Tom before the midday rush of people. Back past Eeylops, past Olivanders, and Quality Quidditch Supplies. At long last, the brick wall appeared before him, melting magically into an archway. Remus slipped back into the crowded bar.

The sounds of laughter and clinking glasses greeted him as he walked into the dimly lit pub.

"Remus!" called Tom, "on your way now?"

"Actually no, I wanted a word," he replied, just loud enough to be heard.

Remus wove his way through the tables and came to stand by the slightly dusty oak counter where Tom sat.

"'Bout what?" Tom inquired conversationally.

"Well, you see, I'd been looking for a job, and –" Tom interceded smoothly. "You were hopin' I'd give yeh one, eh?" Tom said smartly.

"Well - " Remus said, taken quite by surprise. "Well, I'll tell ya what, laddie," Tom grinned toothlessly. "You've got one."

"Thank you," he replied sincerely, a small smile tugging at his lips.

"Anytime, laddie, I'll be seein' you tomorrow at noon then?"

"Tomorrow at noon."

With a parting nod, Remus exited the Leaky Cauldron and vanished into the bustling streets of Muggle London.