Chapter Eighteen
The Stone That Fell From The Sky

The clock in the living room of Ruta's house was striking three when the brass bell at the door began to ring. The only sound beside the soft, silvery chimes had been the clattering of porcelain in the kitchen, where Winky was happily puttering, and Stephen noticed that Ruta took a deep, nervous breath at the sudden clamor. He silently followed her into the vestibule; she opened the door and stood face to face with Harry Potter who was waiting on the threshold. His black hair was even more unruly than usual, the green eyes behind the glasses rimmed by dark shadows. He looked as if he hadn't slept a single minute since the day before.

"Hello, Harry." Ruta's voice was dry and brittle, her shoulders tense, as if she tried to shy back from the man who was one of her best friends… obviously to spare him the need to do so himself. For a few seconds neither of them moved. Then---

"Ruta." Potter's tired face lit up in a smile, and without any hesitation he gathered her in a close embrace. "I'm so glad to see you – you scared me to death when you vanished yesterday!"

"I scared myself to death," she replied, the words muffled against his leather jacket. "Please try to forgive me. I was very upset."

"Of course you were." For a short moment Seeker's eyes met his, and both men shared what probably was the first honest smile ever. "Ginny sends her love… she would like you to come over sometime soon."

"Really?" Ruta sighed deeply. "I didn't think Ginny… I was sure…" She broke off, stepping out of his arms and eyeing him sharply. "Harry – what was that owl about? Where is your visitor?"

"Oh – I'm sorry." Potter turned to someone Seeker couldn't see. "Mr. Radescu?"

Another man appeared behind him, darkening the doorframe. He was tall, taller than Seeker himself. Long, grey hair fell down to his shoulders; his face was haggard and deeply tanned, with a long, sharply defined nose and dark brown eyes under heavy brows.

"Doamna Lupin?" He stepped inside and closed the door behind him. "My name is Radu Radescu. Domnul Potter thought I should come here to see you." His voice was deep and vibrant, like a bronze gong, and he spoke with a strong accent, with open, clear vowels and a hard, rolling 'r'.

"How… how do you do, Mr. Radescu?" Ruta reached out, and the man took her hand. Seeker saw how her back suddenly turned rigid, and he heard a sharp intake of breath. He shot an inquisitive glance at Potter, who cleared his throat.

"Mr. Radescu arrived from Romania very early this morning," he explained. "He had a long conversation with Kingsley Shacklebolt; it was very helpful solving the mystery about Greyback's whereabouts during the last six years."

"Yes," Ruta added, turning around to Seeker. Her face had lost all its color; even her lips were white. "And Mr. Radescu is a werewolf."

A deafening silence fell over the vestibule. Rage flared up in Stephen Seeker like a flame, and he met Harry Potter's gaze with blazing eyes.

"I suppose that you have a good reason to think that he should be here of all places?" His voice was colorless and soft. But the younger man didn't flinch.

"Mr. Radescu is a guest of the Ministry," he quietly said. "Among other things, the magical authorities in Romania were seemingly severely mis-informed about that ominous werewolf order. And Mr. Radescu did a lot to clarify the situation."

"There is no need to protect me, Stephen." That was Ruta who had regained her composure. "Not against infection, at least; I was bitten already, wasn't I?" Her wry smile was a mixture of irony and regret, but when she turned to their visitor, it grew more genuine. "Welcome, Mr. Radescu. May I introduce you to Stephen Seeker? He is a very good friend of mine… and he has recently made a habit of guarding me against peril, for which I am utterly thankful."

"Mr. Seeker." Radu Radescu bowed, one eyebrow quickly rising onto his hairline before his features settled to an expression of polite placidity again. "I'm very pleased to meet you."

Seeker stiffly returned the bow, and Ruta took the lead into the living room, all three men in her wake. Winky had used the time well, preparing a fabulous tea table. There were cucumber sandwiches, small tartlets with marmalade, a glazed fruitcake and an extra plate with warm scones and clotted cream. Seeker noticed with a small smile that there was also a pot of Assam tea and another one with Ruta's favorite coffee blend.

They sat down. Seeker chose the big winged chair directly beside Ruta. Harry Potter served the guest from the Ministry a cup of coffee and inhaled the content of his own cup and a scone before Seeker even managed to pour cream into his tea. Now Potter's tired face was a bit less pale, and he sat down on the sofa beside Radu Radescu.

"Perhaps," he said, "I should allow Mr. Radescu to tell you his story. It is closely connected to that of Fenrir Greyback, at least after the Second Battle. And he is – in a way – Greyback's victim, same as you are."

Ruta turned her gaze from Potter to the man beside him; she studied his face, frowning. "How is this? Did he bite you, too?"

"No, Doamna Lupin, he didn't bite me; I am a werewolf by birth." The tanned face hardened for a moment, and something flickered in the brown eyes, fierce and golden like a sudden fire. "He murdered my father."

*****

"I come from the village of Bojta in Romania," Radu Radescu began. "It lies at the foot of the Cibin Mountains, near the entrance of the Turnul Rosu, where the merchants have wandered with their goods through a narrow mountain pass for centuries… to Sibiu in the north, and southwards to Wallachia."

He got up from the sofa and stood very straight, hands behind his back. like a storyteller or a bard, spinning a legend for his audience, and when he spoke, his deep voice wove the music of the tale he told like a powerful spell.

For decades, centuries perhaps, the familile de lupi of Bojta had lived in a careful truce with their uncursed neighbors. Both men and women followed the rules, retreating into the mountain caves when the curse was at its worst and meeting at the ruins of the Red Tower on the night after the moon began to wane, where the Consiliul Lupilor gave its judgment over disputed cases between families and the Elders blessed the marriages of the young. Because of the truce, no innocent victim had fallen to the curse, and neighbor had begun to marry neighbor, werewolf to witch or wizard, and if the people still had to watch the children carefully when adolescence might bloom into magic or madness or both, at least there was for the most part peace.

Radescu sighed, and in a moment the bard was again merely a man.

"Since the turn of the 19th to the 20th century, my grandfather Iancu was the Patriarh. He sired only one son, my father Nicolae. In summer 1955, Nicolae was a young man of twenty-five years. Like me, he had inherited the curse, and he had married the previous autumn. My mother, Melitta, came from another village, from Bodu Olt, and she was no werewolf. There was only one day missing until the next full moon, and she was close to giving birth. My father was very upset that he would probably have to spend one of the most important moments for a husband as a bloodthirsty beast, and hidden in a cave in the Cibin Mountains."

He closed his hand around his coffee mug, inhaling the fragrant steam. Then he took a long sip.

"My mother felt his sorrow and unease, and she tried to comfort him as best as she could. But he was still miserable, and he accused himself of bringing his evil fate upon her. Finally he left the house and spent the rest of the night outside, near the River Olt. He fell asleep at the foot of a steep hill, and when he awoke, it was early morning. He was very thirsty, and with great thankfulness discovered a small, clear brook, running directly beside him down to the river. He drank his fill, and when he returned home to Bojta, my mother lay in labour."

"It was a difficult birth; my mother went through great pain, and the hours passed without any progress. Finally the sun went down, and the midwife sent my father out of the room, locking the door and barring the shutters of the windows. The time of the change had come, and he was not allowed to jeopardize his innocent wife. He stood in the garden, yelling at the sky in helpless fury."

He gave a small, ironical smile, and not for the first time Seeker felt the strange, surprisingly strong connection between the man and Ruta. She sat without moving, her gaze fixed on Radescu's face.

"The moon rose bright and merciless, the silver sign of the curse, and my father sat crouched on the ground, waiting to be overcome by the familiar, horrible madness. But for the first time in his life it didn' t claim him."

Seeker cleared his throat. "What does that mean?"

The Romanian shot him a sharp glance. "It means that he didn't change. He waited for the fur to break through his skin, for his teeth to sharpen to deadly fangs. But none of that happened."

"None of that happened…" Ruta's voice was a breathless echo, her amazement as great and profound as Seeker's.

Radescu smiled at her.

"My father was absolutely beside himself, shaking with wonder and joy… but of course he didn't dare to return into the house. Only when the sun rose above the roof, he finally hurried back to his wife… and he was greeted by the screaming of a newly born baby boy." The smile went wider. "That was me."

"And then?" Ruta asked, deeply fascinated.

"He waited until the full moon was over, and then went to the Elders and told them his incredible story. They asked him a multitude of questions. Where had he been the day and the night before? What had he done that was different? He had not used any magic – and there was no magic that worked against the curse anyway."

Seeker's eyes widened in sudden perception.

"The brook?" he slowly said. "The brook your father drank from when he spent the night close to that river?"

"Very good, Domnul Seeker." Radescu nodded appreciatively. "And absolutely true." He set aside his coffee and took up his tale once more.

The Elders went with Nicolae to where he had slept, and they followed the small brook upstream to where it sprung from a crack in a small rock. They examined the rock; it was dark as midnight, the surface cool and smooth as silk. They wandered around it and saw that it rested in a deep, ancient crater, overgrown with brushwood and trees. But the shape could still be recognized… a wide deepening in the hill. The Patriarh Iancu was a wise and scholarly man.. He told them that huge rocks sometimes fell from the sky, coming from outer space. Perhaps this was a rock like that - it certainly didn't look like any of the stones nearby. So the Elders scratched a handful of dust from the surface and took it home to Bojta. They chose three volunteers – Nicolae included – mixed the dust with water and made them drink it. Then they waited anxiously for the next full moon.

"They didn't change. None of them," Radescu said, looking at each of them in turn. "It was the stone indeed. The Elders called it Piatra Lunii – because it was a wondrous gift from the moon, an unexpected blessing, a release from the curse. They dug it out and brought it to Bojta."

"How big was it?" Ruta asked, sitting very upright in her chair, tense as a bowstring.

Radescu's eyes scanned the room and found the teapot.

"Twice the size of this," he said. "Not very impressive, is it? The Elders scratched off enough dust to save the whole village from the madness of the wolf… but suddenly they felt the first doubt. How long would their supplies last? How much was really necessary to keep a werewolf from changing, and how long would he have to take it? A miracle had fallen into their hands, but they were afraid to waste it."

"Good thought." Stephen Seeker leaned in. "How did they proceed?"

Radescu poured himself a second cup of coffee. "They decided for tests."

The Elders chose two trustworthy families, with altogether five sons and daughters who were nearly of age, and they gave each of them a small whiff of the powder. To their great amazement it proved that even that tiny dose was enough to keep a werewolf from changing when the next full moon came. Nicolae didn't get any powder that time, but he didn't change either. One month later four of the five "test persons" remained human; only one of the young women turned to a wolf and was given yet another dose of the powder. The next full moon she too escaped the curse, and she remained free from it for the rest of her life.

"She died 1968," Radescu said, a small, wistful glint in his eyes. "She got caught under a horsecart and broke her neck, but until that very moment she was the most healthy and 'normal' woman I've ever known." His gaze was distant, softened by the memory of a friend long lost.

Now the rest of the families got the powder, too. Some needed a single dose, some as many as four, but sooner or later, the power of the stone always exceeded the power of the curse. Between the years 1956 and 2002 none of the werewolf inhabitants of Bojta who had received treatment were forced to change during the full moon. The Elders were very careful. They kept the miraculous powder absolutely secret – not only because the Piatra Lunii could only provide a very limited quantity of it but also because the wondrous effect had a dangerous downside.

"They didn't have to change," Ruta stated, her voice a little unsteady, "but they were able to, couldn't they? And the phase of the moon didn't matter any longer."

"Yes, Doamna Lupin," Radescu replied. "What had become a cure for most of us could easily be used as a weapon against others, as one grim incident proved. We dealt with that, but it was decided that we must keep the stone a secret. We were much too thankful for what the sky had so unexpectedly given us to risk losing it. Fewer of our children are born with the curse now, but those who are must be helped."

"And yet," Seeker grimly said, "despite your secrecy at some point Fenrir Greyback walked onto the stage of this drama."

"He came to Bojta in 2003," Radescu answered. "But he called himself Edward Wolverton. He looked ragged and famished, and he told us that he had been forced to flee from England because of the incurable hatred against werewolves before and after the downfall of the Stapânul Întunecat – the Dark Lord."

"Which was not entirely a lie," Ruta softly said.

"No." Radescu sighed. "We have lived in peace for more than 40 years now, but we knew about Voldemort, of course. Not enough, though… or we would perhaps have been more careful. The Elders held a council and decided to give Wolverton the shelter he was asking for. My father had sent me to Sibiu to visit a good school; I returned with enough English to communicate with him."

He looked down at the plate with scones, but he still didn't eat. Instead he continued telling his strange, unexpected tale, and they listened, unable to take their eyes from the stern, exhausted face.

The so-called Edward Wolverton conducted himself inconspicuously at first. He accepted with apparent thankfulness a small cottage the Elders offered to him, and for more than a year he blended seamlessly into the community. In retrospect Radescu didn't know if "Wolverton" had originally come to Bojta because he had caught rumors about a mystery in the Cibin Mountains; the families in the village had – same as the Elders – sworn a solemn oath to keep the Piatra Lunii secret. But whatever their English refugee knew or suspected, he inevitably found out about the truth after the third or fourth full moon. Nicolae Radescu had foreseen that this would happen; when "Wolverton" visited him and asked the first questions, he had the answers the Elders had decided upon ready. Wolverton was friendly and understanding. He said all the right things; he claimed that all he wished was to prove himself worthy to receive this 'blessing' too.

Once again Radescu fell out of the tale and into his own memory. "I met him when he left the house – he greeted me with smooth courtesy, but his eyes had an almost feverish brightness, and excitement was radiating from him like the glow from a conflagration. For a short second I looked behind the mask, and I was afraid… But a moment later the glimpse of the truth was gone, and I thought my imagination had betrayed me. – And so he not only fooled me but the Elders, too… for yet another year. Wherever a hand was needed, he was there, he was polite and helpful, and people generally agreed that they couldn't wish for a better neighbor."

Potter gave a barking laugh. "Fenrir Greyback, the Good Shepherd," he murmured. "That's a bad joke."

"Not if you consider what he was after," Seeker retorted. "If he only ate crow for a little while longer, he had the chance to free himself from the influence of the moon, and to be a beast whenever he desired."

"Yes, exactly," Radescu said, his voice bitter. "I wish we hadn't been that naïve."

In March 2006, 'Edward Wolverton' received the whiff of powder he had so long craved for. At first nothing seemed to change, but when early Summer came, something happened that made the Elders of Bojta realize that they had made a terrible mistake. A schoolclass from Sibiu hiked in the Cibin Mountains, exploring some of the caves near the river Olt. Two twelve-year-old girls suddenly disappeared without a trace. The police started a huge search operation, but with no success.

"It was my father who finally found out what had happened," Radescu said, a steep, vertical fold between his eyebrows. "He knew the caves in the hills around Bojta much better than the Muggle police, from the times when he had hidden there during the change, before… before we had the stone. He discovered the girls at last, on a mild, sunny morning in July."

His face was suddenly very pale, and Seeker could see the muscles of his jaw tense to tight knots under his skin. There was a long silence. Finally Ruta spoke.

"Were they dead?" she asked gently.

"Yes, they were." Radescu swallowed, his eyes dark and haunted from something only he could see in his mind. "What had happened to them was worse than a simple killing; their murderer had literally torn them to pieces."

He straightened his back, fighting for his composure.

"As a werewolf, my father immediately recognized the signs… and it was the time of the new moon. None of us would have done a damnable thing like this… we had lived in safety because none of us had hunted under the curse for nearly five decades. This cruel crime was a severe danger for the werewolf community in Bojta." His lips formed a narrow line, and they could feel his reluctance to continue the story of this drama like a dark cloud in the warm air of the room.

After the first shock Nicolae Radescu decided against taking "Wolverton" to task and Apparated to Sibiu instead. He visited the editorial office of the Phoenixul Românesc – the national wizard newspaper - and spent a long afternoon doing research on the modern wizard history of England and the downfall of Lord Voldemort. Finally he found what he had been looking for – an older article about werewolves in Great Britain, mainly focusing on a certain Fenrir Greyback (who was described as a monster and a daunting example for the vileness of the "cursed race" in general). There was also a photograph… obviously more than ten years old, but the likeness of Greyback to "Wolverton" was as undeniable as it was horrifying.

Radescu took a deep breath.

"My father returned the same evening and told me about his discovery. We agreed that the Elders must be informed, and that a fast decision had to be made. I went to Greyback's house and saw that he wasn't there. He had already killed since he was in Bojta, and it was more than possible that the first murder had only spurred his bloodlust. So my father did… he decided to change and to hunt him down, by following his spoor."

His eyes found Ruta's face.

"'It takes a beast to get rid of that beast', he said."

He looked down at his hands; Seeker saw that his fingers were trembling.

"He didn't come back that night, and he stayed away the whole next day and the following night, too. My unease grew until I was completely panicking, and finally I decided to follow both tracks – though I didn't dare to change. I found him the next evening. He lay close to the wall of the Turnul Rosu, half bled to death."

A sharp intake of breath came from Ruta. "Merlin."

"He must have been there since dawn of that day; he was in human form, and changing back had weakened him greatly. He was covered with bruises and minor injuries, but his right leg was severly damaged. My father had never been a healer, and as a wolf, he hadn't been able to take his wand with him. So all he could to do was to bind the bleeding leg with his belt, and to wait for help. When I finally arrived, he was unconscious, the makeshift bandage had slackened, and blood was soaking the ground beneath his body. I sank down beside him and took his head on my knees. He opened his eyes and looked at me. 'Radu…' he whispered, 'Fiul meu.' He was silent for a long while, and then I heard his voice again, barely more than a whisper. He was struggling for each single word. 'Greyback… bit me… stood over me… grinning… like a lunatic… '…won't stay here to watch you die, old fool'… will return to England now …to finally take his revenge….' My father closed his eyes, and I could feel his pulse under my hand stumble and slow down."

Radescu shuddered, his face distorted with grief. But he continued nonetheless, unable to dam up the stream of memories spilling out.

"'Revenge?' I asked, "Father, what kind of revenge? Against whom?' My father didn't answer, not at first. His breath grew shallow and laborious, and I… I wept. Suddenly his hands came up, grabbing my collar and pulling me down, close to his mouth. He murmured something I could not understand. 'Try again,' I urged, while my tears fell into his hair. 'Try again, father.' And then I understood what he was saying. 'Lupin', he gasped, 'Lupin…' And that was the last time he ever spoke to me."

The tall, grey-haired figure seemed to shrink into the sofa. From the corner of his eye Seeker saw a small movement; it was Ruta, leaning in, her fingers closing around the werewolf's hand. He was unable to curb the sudden, dark impulse that made him speak; in the deep silence of the room his voice was hoarse and almost angry.

"Where was your wand when you found your father?"

Radescu slowly raised his head, staring blindly in his direction. But he didn't say anything. To Seeker's surprise, it was Potter who answered.

"He has no wand," the young man said softly. "His father was a wizard, but Mr. Radescu is a Squib. He has just enough magic to Apparate with me, or we would've had to take the train."

A painful wave of shame washed over Seeker. Spitting venom at a man who had lost that much, simply because the woman he cared for had showed him a spontaneous gesture of kindness and compassion… sometimes his former, abandoned self came back to haunt him indeed.

He cleared his throat. "I am sorry, Mr. Radescu," he said simply. "That was highly inappropriate."

"Not as inappropriate as you may think, Domnul Seeker;" Radescu answered, straightening his back. "I could not save my father, but I might have been able to save Doamna Lupin."

Ruta stared at him. "You might… oh." She swallowed nervously. "Because… because Greyback told your father who was the aim of his revenge?"

"Exactly." Radescu grimaced. "He most certainly told him… and though I clearly remembered each and every word my father had spoken in his last moments, I locked those memories away for months. We buried him and grieved for him, and I took over his place as one of the Elders… and as the Keeper of the Piatra Lunii. I simply didn't want to remember – but the name Lupin occasionally came back to haunt me. Summer passed by, and finally I went and searched the documents of my father. In a drawer in his desk, I found a big folder full of newspaper articles. Some of them came from the Phoenixul Românesc, but half a dozen were in English, from your Daily Prophet. My father obviously had brought them with him from his trip to Sibiu to show them to me, back in July. Now I read them, and I discovered the name Remus Lupin. The article said that he had died with his wife in the Second Battle against the Dark Lord, but it also spoke of a son, a small boy."

He bowed his head.

"At first I didn't know what to do. Should I turn to the Wizard Ministry in Bukarest? The reputation of werewolves isn't any better in my country than it is in yours. I imagined myself standing in the office of some bored magistrate in Bukarest, trying to tell him about a secret I couldn't even begin to reveal… I would have been forced to speak of the Piatra Lunii. I nearly lost my courage… but then I studied the newspaper articles again and found other names. Harry Potter… Hermione Granger… Ronald Weasley. And one article mentioned Ronald Weasley's elder brother - an English Dragontamer who worked with a group of wizards, at the slopes of the Vârful Cindrel."

"Charlie Weasley," Ruta said. "Did you get the chance to meet him?"

"Yes," Radescu answered. "But it was incredibly difficult; the Dragontamers operate in great secrecy, and their area is protected by powerful spells. I only succeded fourteen days ago - and then spent an arduous night with the attempt to convince him that I meant no harm, that I was not completely crazy, and that I told him the truth."

"I would've loved to see that," Potter murmured; green eyes met black, and Seeker's face relaxed in a brief grin. Then he turned his attention back to Radescu; the werewolf pulled something out of his pocket.

"Domnul Weasley contacted the Ministry; with his help I was finally able to talk to the right people. And this is why I am here now… to tell you my story, and to pay the debt of Bojta, Doamna Lupin... and my debt."

"I don't understand," Ruta said, frowning. "What kind of debt?"

"Bojta gave Greyback shelter when he needed it, and we allowed him to fool us with his well-spun lies. Our simple-mindedness led to the death of two children, and to the attack against you, Doamna Lupin, and Remus Lupin's son. Had I overcome my grief earlier, I might have saved you from turning to a werewolf at all."

"If I learned anything during the past few months," Ruta replied with a pale smile, "it is that 'What if' doesn't lead anywhere. I don't blame you for my fate, Mr. Radescu."

"You are most gracious," Radescu said, his face hard and determined. "But I blame myself, and there is only one way to regain my peace of mind."

He opened his hand, revealing a small flask. It was nearly empty; only the bottom was covered with a fine, black powder. Seeker quickly rose from his chair, excitement flaring through his veins like a sudden fire.

"Is that ---"

"Yes, Domnul Seeker. This is powder from the Piatra Lunii – enough for three or four doses. Use it with care, Doamna Lupin, and you will be free from the curse of the moon for the rest of your life."

vvvvv

They stood in the vestibule; Harry Potter wore his leather jacket and Radu Radescu a long, woolen cloak.

"I'll see Andromeda for dinner, as soon as I have Apparated with Mr. Radescu back to London," Potter said. "I will tell her and Teddy that you are well." He smiled at Ruta. "Perhaps you would like to tell her personally? I'm sure she wouldn't mind seeing you."

Ruta shook her head.

"No, Harry," she said. "I think it's a bit... early, after what happened yesterday. Oh… by the way, the last time I read Teddy a Beedle tale, I accidentally took the book home with me. Would you give it back to her?"

"Of course," Potter said. "If you really think…"

"Yes, I do." Ruta spoke firmly. "Give me a moment… I left it upstairs in my bedroom."

For the fraction of a second her eyes met Seeker's. He saw a tiny, warm smile and felt his own face involuntarily relax in response; then she was gone and he could hear her steps on the stairs. He doubted that Potter had caught the short exchange of glances, but the expression on Radescu's face clearly showed that he had noticed it. His brows rose towards his hairline, and his nostrils widened as if he got scent of a surprising aroma. A moment later Ruta was back and handed The Tales of Beedle the Bard to Potter.

"Farewell, Mr. Radescu," she said, turning to the werewolf. "It was a pleasure to meet you. No… more than a pleasure. I'll never be able to thank you enough for what you did for me."

"It was the least I could do," Radescu replied earnestly. "Farewell, Doamna Lupin." He hesitated. "Domnul Seeker?"

"Yes?"

"Did I understand correctly that you and Doamna Lupin are friends? You are not… married?"

Ruta froze, and Potter opened his mouth. But before he could speak, Seeker turned his head and gave him a stare that was the sheer, shattering essence of every cold gaze Severus Snape had ever shot along his crooked nose at the Boy Who Lived. The younger man turned bright red.

"Excuse me," he murmured. ""I'll wait outside." He had barely finished the sentence when the door already fell closed behind him. Seeker looked at Radescu and saw that he smiled with a certain embarrassment.

"I hope the question was not too brazen," he said. "This is absolutely not my business, of course, but I must admit that I am curious."

Seeker exhaled audibly.

"You are right, this is not your business," he replied coolly. "But no, we are not married."

"Amazing," Radescu stated softly, and then he said something in his own language, almost under his breath.

"Would you repeat that in English, please?" Seeker asked, the temperature of his voice dropping to a level far beyond arctic frost. "My Romanian is rather poor."

"Forgive me," Radescu answered calmly, and then his eyes found those of Seeker and held them. "I said: I can smell the scent of her all over your skin."

Seeker stared at him, at a complete loss for words. The anger he had successfully fought back before returned with full force. How did he dare… and what if his tale was nothing else but a cleverly woven fairy tale, to protect the families in his village from discovery? His mind reached out, meeting no resistance; Radescu's eyes widened, though, and he froze, one hand raised in a defense that came far too late.

Ruta's face was the first thing Seeker met… and his own, lips curled in distrust. Then a wave of unbearable sorrow washed over him as he gazed down at the distorted features of a dying man, hands and clothes reeking with the heavy, warm vapour of freshly spilled blood. Seeker jerked back, but he was irresistibly drawn deeper into Radescu's memories, and Greyback's cruel grin flickered past him, met by a rush of horrified fear. There was also a black, shimmering rock, accompanied by a strong impression of unspeakable relief. But above and underneath all those vivid images he felt the pale brightness of the moon, an eternal threat, an overpowering, fateful curse.

Seeker withdrew from Redescu's mind and the werewolf relaxed abruptly, his eyes blazing reddish fire… but then they returned to the deep, calm brown and he actually smiled.

"I guess I deserved this," he said. "Have I sufficiently proven my trustworthiness, Domnul Seeker?"

"You have," Seeker brusquely replied. "And I hope you understand that I had to be sure."

He watched as Radescu took Ruta's hand, leaned over it and grazed the knuckles with his lips. Then the werewolf bowed deeply.

"La revedere," he said. "Should you ever wish to visit the place where the Piatra Lunii is kept, you will be most welcome." One last time he looked at Seeker. "Both of you."

And with that he was gone.

vvvvv

The silence their visitor left behind was almost deafening. It was Ruta who broke it first; she stepped beside Seeker and touched his arm.

"It was only natural for him to notice something," she softly said. "He's a werewolf, after all."

"And brutally tactless," Seeker retorted, his voice slightly annoyed.

"I owe him very much," Ruta replied, creating a small distance between them; the spot where only seconds before her hand had been felt strangely empty and cold. "He has offered me the greatest gift anyone could have given me – freedom from the moon, redemption from the curse that Greyback brought over my life."

He didn't answer.

"And there's yet another aspect," Ruta continued. "All the time it has greatly bothered me that this burden was not only forced upon my shoulders. You have been nothing less than generous and selfless, Stephen, but an involvement in this mind-boggling drama can hardly have been on top of your wish list when you started anew and thought about what to do with your second chance."

Her matter-of-fact exploration of his dreams and hopes made his lips twitch with weak amusement.

"Your ideas of selflessness are rather unusual," he remarked dryly. "I wouldn't call sharing your bed a matter of sheer altruism."

He looked at Ruta. "Let's go back into the light; I can hardly see your face."

Winky had closed the curtains and lit a fire; the room was a soothing retreat against the cold darkness of the night. Stephen thanked the little house elf and sent her home to rest, assuring her that there was no need for more baking or tea. Ruta sat down on the sofa, stretching her legs with a sigh.

"Radescu... he sounded so... astonished," she said. "Do you suppose that is because he's surprised that someone who is free of the curse would have the courage to make love to a werewolf?"

"Not with his parentage," Stephen said wryly. "I have a lowering suspicion that his astonishment is for a far more discouraging reason than that."

"Oh?"

"If he were still a youth, the mere fact that middle-aged people indulge in that sort of thing would probably make him cringe with horror." He met her eyes, his own softening at the sight of the startled laughter dawning in hers. "But in this particular case he might just have been surprised that you took someone of my appearance and... erh... gloomy nature into your bed."

„I don't remember complaining," she said gently, turning her head to the fire; the light of the flames was dancing over her skin, painting vivid reflexes of brightness and shadow. "Quite to the contrary, Stephen."

He saw a brief smile, but she quickly grew serious again.

"I was used to being alone; my life had a firm, reliable pattern. But now it is unraveled like a badly knitted scarf, and there are choices I must make. Difficult choices."

Seeker waited silently.

"Radescu's powder won't change the fact that I can't work at Fionnula's any longer. I'm still unemployed, and I still have to find something new. At least I won't have to figure out any stories about why I'm missing every time the moon is full; that will make things much easier. And I won't need the Wolfsbane Potion any more. That gives you a choice, too."

"Me?" He studied her tired face, frowning. Ruta looked at him, her eyes calm and very clear.

"The choice to leave, if you want," she said. "You might wish to take some time and think things over, Stephen. The last few weeks were incredibly difficult, for both of us; fate has dragged us along like a giant avalanche. Perhaps you need a chance to catch your breath."

"Perhaps," he replied, keeping his tone as neutral as possible. "But does that necessarily mean that I have to leave?"

"No," she admitted. "Probably not. But you might find my presence a bit… distracting." A smile trembled on her lips. "I know your story all too well - you have been forced to make difficult decisions again and again, some of them more arduous than I'll ever be able to imagine. You have always had to react to disastrous circumstances, mostly in the wink of an eye."

She got up from the sofa and came over to him; she stood close enough that he could feel her breath warm and gentle on his face.

"I would lie if I said that I don't care about the outcome," she said. "But I think you should have the chance to consider your options without that pressure."

"Very unusual," he said slowly. "And perhaps a bit over-dramatic. How about 'If it won't work, we can still be friends'?"

"Stephen." Now Ruta's palms lay flat against his chest. "You sacrificed your cover to run to my rescue. You killed Greyback to save my life and you cared for my wounds. You brewed the Wolfsbane Potion for me… and you proved to me that I'm still worthy to be… to be cherished." There was a catch in her voice, but she continued nonetheless. "No, I don't think that we could ever return to being 'just' friends, or neighbors who merely greet each other over the garden fence. Do you?"

He was not foolish enough to deny that she was right. She wouldn't have believed him anyway – she was definitely too clever for her own good.

"No." He took one of her hands and kissed it.

She smiled, not sadly, but with a determination that he loved to see in her. "The last weeks have given me bottomless horror, but unlimited joy, too, and whatever was bright and hopeful had its source in you, and you alone," she said. "Therefore I want to give you – I need to give you -- something in return. Freedom - and time."

He bowed to the inevitable, conscious of echoing Radescu's parting gesture, and discovering that he didn't truly mind.

"All right – I will leave now; there are some matters I have to take care of anyway. Eat something, Ruta, and sleep. You are still a bit off-color; try to get some rest."

She stepped back, breaking the contact. "I will, I promise. Have a good evening, Stephen."

"Goodnight, Ruta."

Seeker watched her walking out of the room and stayed back, waiting; after a while he heard the sound of the bedroom door falling closed. He went outside, took his long cloak from the wardrobe and left the house.

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Author's Notes:

First of all I would like to thank my tireless betas, rabidsamfan and clevertoad, without whom I would never have come that far. And in this special case my gratitude also goes out to the marvelous and kind luthien23 – her Romanian is much better than Seeker's, and most certainly better than mine. :-)

Doamna/ Domnul – Mr. or Mrs.
Turnul Rosu – Red Tower
familile de lupi – wolf families
Consiliul Lupilor – Council of Wolves
Piatra Lunii – Stone of the moon
Patriarh - chief or patriarch
Stapânul Întunecat – Dark Lord
Phoenixul Românesc – The Romanian Phoenix
Fiul meu – my son
La revedere - Good bye

Some additional geographical details:

Sibiu is the former German settlement Hermannstadt – the capital of Transylvania. The Cibin Mountains can be seen from there, high peaks, covered with snow, and the highest peak is the Vârful Cindrel (7362 ft). I humbly apologize to the inhabitants of Bojta – the community of werewolves there is a product of my imagination and has nothing to do with reality. ;.)

Oh - and of course a heartfelt Thank you to all of those who have followed this tale so far. Only one more chapter to go!