notes: gah, abi is so happy! she managed to fool three of you at least! yay :3

warnings: another interlude...and if i get any complaints, i'll stop working on the rest of the story! seriously! twitches and gives in okay, i won't...but...i'll be slightly annoyed. don't you want to have a fleshed-out, sensible story? i assure you, remus wasn't pulled straight from left field.

!important!: chapter dedicated to Air5 for making abi so utterly joyous and delighted and very much appreciated! SQUEE! you like my writing 3

interlude ii
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Remus signed off his time out and picked up his tattered case. He carefully folded his dark brown woollen greatcoat over his arm and exited the bar, waving good-byes in return to the various regulars that called out to him as he left through the pub's entrance. He headed towards the town's library.

Despite not knowing a thing about mixing drinks, or really anything about alcohol at all, when he'd walked down the street and seen the "help wanted" sign on the Pub's door, he'd applied for the job in that instant, out of sheer desperation.

At the time, Remus had only been a resident of the town for a measly two hours. Having been chased out of the last wizarding settlement he'd called home, he decided to try his luck with the muggle world. After securing a basement suit apartment – which included cellar access – with help of Arthur, he'd wandered the town, trying to find a job. He had had only enough money for that month's rent, but all the other prospective employers in he'd run across had turned him down due to lack of experience.

But the pub had hired him. The owner was a middle-life aged man with dark hair, indeterminate brownish eyes and a tall, stocky build. The owner, whom Remus had found out was filling the bartender position for the woman that had worked there before, greeted Remus from behind the counter with a critical eye for the battered case, carefully patched clothing, and tired, thin face. The man looked ready to toss him out on principle, but something in Remus' expression must have changed his mind.

"Lookin' fer a job?"

"Yes, sir."

"Got any experience bartendin'?"

"No, sir." The man looked at him, examining him.

"I've not seen ya 'round here, ya new ta town? Gotta name?"

"I have just moved here, my name is Remus Lupin. I may not know anything about bartending, but I learn quickly and will work hard. Please, I need this job." Remus was getting near frantic. He took a deep breath. So, this was the last place he'd gone to look for a job at. So he'd starve if he didn't get that job. He had to make a good impression, show the man he was capable, worth hiring. He took another deep breath and smiled at him warmly.

"Hold yer horses, boy, there ya go." The man nodded, setting down the glass he'd been cleaning and leaned on the countertop.

"It be true I'm in need of a new 'tender. I can't be workin' all th' shifts by meself. And it be true tha' I can train ya quick enough in all ya need to know—"

A chorus of "We can 'elp!" came from the group of men sitting on stools at the counter, blatantly eavesdropping in on the interview/conversation.

"—and yes, they can help." He grinned good naturedly at the motley assortment of men ranging in ages from barely legal to toothless oldster. Remus remained silent, attentive. He couldn't blow this.

"Wha' matters is tha' yer trustful, responsible—"

Again he was interrupted by the regulars: "Jus' 'ire th' poor man already, lookit 'im!"

The owner shot a look at the group, and a few of the younger ones found other things to scrutinize, the rest just laughed.

"—is tha' yer responsible, and won't run off an git yerself in th' delicate way wit' some high and fancy ta-do from the city!" He finished, laughing at the completely flabbergasted look on Remus' face.

"That's…all?" Remus finally managed. He brushed a few strands of hair away from his face and tried to steady his racing pulse.

"Tha's all." Agreed the owner. "My name's Clive Brancot, boy. C'mon, ge' back 'ere, ya can put yer stuff there." He opened up the swinging bit of counter designed for such purpose and ushered Remus behind the bar, showing him a cupboard he could use to store his things.

"Yer sleeve's're already buttoned, good, ya gotta keep 'em that way, or else roll 'em up. 'Ere, put this on." Clive handed Remus a black full length apron. When Remus was properly done up, he pushed the younger man towards the group of regulars – the only people currently in the pub at this hour.

"'Kay, boys, ya know wha' ta do."

A chorus of "yessir." Remus looked at Clive in confusion. He grinned, pulling a stool out from under the counter and sat down on it at an angle between the customers and Remus.

"Ya take 'em one at a time, fer now, ask 'em wha' they want, I'll tell ya 'ow ta make it."

That had been one of the best days of his life.

Remus liked Clive, his boss. The man was like a rock, almost. Clive worked in the pub from five pm to five am, dealing with the more surly drunks and keeping an eye on the place through the night. Besides Remus, only two other people worked at Clive's place, a red-hair, green eyed woman in her thirties and another man, around forty, and both of them only worked part-time. Remus never took sick-time (he never got sick), and the only times he did take off were the week that encompassed the full moon. Clive never questioned that.

Arriving at the library, Remus went in, greeting the lady at the desk and making a beeline for the newspaper and magazine racks. He gathered up his material and settled himself down for a nice, long two-and-a-half hours read. His morning ritual.

"Ah, Mr. Lupin, sir?" Remus looked up, the lady from the front desk was standing across the table from him, holding a newspaper folded neatly in one hand.

"Yes, Miss Jacobs?"

"This came 'bout seven thirty this morn' I think maybe you wan' ta see th' second page." She handed it to him and wandered off back to the front desk, fixing a couple of tilted books on the display.

Remus looked down at the paper. 'At Home in Little Whinging; Morning Edition.' What kind of info could he possibly get out of that? Why would Sirius have anything to do with some little pocket of suburb? He shrugged and flipped the paper over, ignoring the unease developing in the pit of his stomach.

The strength with which he gripped the paper when his mind took in the words ripped it. He shot a look over at Miss Jacobs to make sure she hadn't noticed before smoothing out the paper and reading on. "…proceeded to demand the where-a-bouts of, as of this moment, an unknown individual named Harry Potter. When Mr. Stundard…"

Hairs on the back of Remus' neck rose. This was it. This was what he'd been looking for. This was exactly what he'd been looking for. The one time he'd gone to Dumbledore, the old man had refused to tell him anything. Oh, Dumbledore was misleading enough, but Remus had the sneaking suspicion he'd actually gone away from that meeting with less knowledge than what he'd went into it with. Fool of an old man for disregarding Remus' message about the merits of monitoring the muggle news networks when Sirius escaped.

Harry was in Little Whinging, Remus could tell that much from the article. Sirius, despite his mental detachment, wasn't stupid. Sirius wouldn't go around flinging the name of the Boy Who Lived about if he weren't sure. Sirius was just having difficulties pinpointing the boy because of the wards, most likely.

But Remus was different. The powers of Remus' werewolf senses were infinitely stronger than Sirius' animagus ones. And Remus had a trick or two up his own sleeve. With the general area, Remus was sure he could find Harry first.

Remus had met the Dursleys. He knew what they'd do to a little boy like Harry.

He hated Dumbledore for allowing that.

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Ten minutes later, Remus was back in the pub, pounding on the door at the top of a flight of stairs that opened out into the back of the building.

"Clive, CLIVE! I need to talk to you! Open UP! I'm sorry!" He pounded frantically on the door.

Normally he would have just left, forget his house, forget the job. But this was the safest, most stable place Remus had ever been in his life. He had friends again, and he knew that this little town would be the best place to hide Harry when he got the boy. So he needed to be able to count on having a job when he got back.

"Hold yer horses, boy, wha's the problem so early in th' morn'?" Clive asked, opening the door with bleary eyes, dressed only in a pair of long underwear. Remus ignored it, pushing the man and himself inside and closing the door.

"I need a vacation. It doesn't have to paid, just the assurance that I'll have time off for a while and be able to come back and still have my job." He said quickly, clearly.

"Whoa, boy, slow down, there! Wha's this 'bout a vacation? Look, I deal wi' th' moon stuff wi' no question, yer gonna haveta tell me why and we'll see wha' we can do, Remus." Clive sat down on the dark brown couch that took up half his living room and gestured Remus to do the same.

"What I say here, you promise you'll tell no one?" Remus looked the man in the eye, knowing how mesmerizing his own amber-coloured irises could be.

"O' course, ya don' 'aveta even ask!" Clive leaned forward, face showing an expectant expression.

Remus nodded. "I… thank you." He pulled the newspaper out from under his arm and placed it on the coffee table, unfolding it to the second page, which featured a picture of Sirius. Clive looked and nodded, he'd heard the story.

Remus took a deep breath and started. "This man is Sirius Black. He was once the best friend of a man named James Potter. We were all friends." Remus paused for a moment so Clive could read the article. Clive's eyes widened, but other then that he didn't say anything.

"Yes, the person he's looking for is Harry Potter, James' only son, Sirius' godson. Harry is currently in hiding with his mother's relatives, and, being what I am, they wouldn't even consider letting me adopt the boy. I know Lily's sister, and I can tell you with all certainty that they're abusing the boy in some way. I need the time off so I can find him and bring him here, away from the Dursleys and away from Sirius." Clive was giving him a scrutinizing look now. Like he knew Remus was withholding important information.

"So that's why you're at the library three hours a day, reading these?" He nudged the newspaper with a finger.

"Yes."

"And you're going after this boy, because?" Clive was examining him again.

Remus didn't even pause to think about his answer. "Sirius will kill him, if he finds Harry first. The Dursleys will eventually destroy him, if he's left with them. I have to do this because he's all I have left of my best friends, my old life."

Clive, to give him credit, didn't even seem phased by Remus' response. He carefully folded up the newspaper and handed it back to the other man.

"Good answer. I'll want to see this Harry when you get back." Remus nodded, and hurried out the door.

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!please don't kill me for all the notes!
this entire story, henceforth, will be dedicated to all those that read, and those that review. as i have stated previously, many, many times, i hate this story with a burning passion unrivaled. yes, it is completely written, but...i just hate it, okay? if it wasn't for the reviews and my thoughts for the people reading, i would have given up at the first chapter. but because i feel that it is only fair that i continue on for your sake, i will. although i can't help but admit, it is growing on me. the heavy, heavy editing and rewriting are really helping me polish my own style.

i know how it feels to start reading a story, only to find that it will never be finished. i never want to do that to anyone,

thank-you all