Once again, dedicated to CrystalSaffron, my awesome beta...you've done a great job, girl! Also to SinPiedad, who makes me feel better when I'm having one of my dee dee dee moments, but mostly just because she's her. Love you, Nami. Shout outs to all american cowgirl and the lovely Nival Vixen herself. Thanks for the reviews, guys! Hope you all enjoy it. Oh, I think I might have forgotten to say this...Harry Potter doesn't belong to me. Not even in my dreams...although young Tom Riddle and Sirius Black feature a great deal. Anyway, get reading!

Bad Moon Rising

By: CattyRose

Chapter Two – I Think I'm Paranoid


September 25, 1996 – 1:56PM

"Well, Filius?" The Transfiguration teacher queried warily, slipping into Filius' private workroom. With a cursory glance around to make sure they were alone, she shut the door behind her and put up the required privacy wards. "How goes the project, old friend?"

The miniscule Charms professor shot his Arithmancy calculations a dark glare and ran his hands through his hair in frustration. "As well as can be expected, Min. Time magic is very complex, and extremely dangerous. Each calculation must be exact down to the last parameter, or there is a very real risk that the user will get lost in the time stream." Filius could feel a lump forming in his throat at the very thought of something happening to one of his students. No matter what Minerva might say, telling himself it had to be done offered little comfort. Still, the small man forced himself to ignore his discomfort and continue. "There's a reason the Ministry regulates time turners so heavily, and they only go back a few hours. The slightest miscalculation...Min, what if I make a mistake?" He murmured, looking utterly distraught.

"Oh, Filius," she breathed, giving her colleague a reassuring smile. "You're not going to make any errors. You and I both remember her posing as my great niece, and her cover as a previously home-schooled sixth year who transferred to Hogwarts due to family issues."

"But what if -" he began to interrupt.

"But nothing, Filius. She's not going to do anything that would cause the mission to fail, least of all risk such a catastrophic endeavor as to change the time line. When the time comes, she will know just how important this mission is to the the war effort. She will do nothing to jeopardize that, or her family," Minerva, ever the world-weary instructor, said with conviction.

"I know that," the diminutive man replied. "I just feel awful about asking this of her. She's such a bright girl, and after the loss of her brother...she needs stability. As it is, the poor girl is worried to death for her family and friends. She should be able to stay near them, where she can reassure herself that they're safe. Familiar surroundings, no matter how similar, are foreign without familiar people." He said empathetically, pounding his fist on the work desk in front of him.

"There is no one else, I'm afraid." She declared, after a minute of thought. "No matter how much you don't want to lose your most gifted student, Filius, I'm afraid it must be her. We both know it must come to pass, for we both remember it. There is no one I trust more, no one better suited for this mission. If it makes you feel better," she confided, "I will miss her as well."

"Am I that obvious, Minnie?" At the woman's answering laugh, he simply shook his head. "I will miss her terribly, though."

Heading towards the door, Minerva turned, oddly solemn. "As will I," she murmured, before slipping out of the workroom as if she had never been there in the first place.

"Oh, dear girl...please forgive us." The exhausted man uttered into the silent room, slumping forward in defeat onto the workbench before him.


October 4, 1996 – 9:12 PM

"Professor," the youngest Weasley croaked, "May I get some water, please?"

Smiling kindly, the older woman poured her a glass from a nearby pitcher. "Of course. Now, it's nothing to be ashamed of if you didn't find your form just yet. It can take more than one spiritual trance to find your inner animal. I myself took several," she said conversationally as the young girl drank deeply.

"Professor," the redhead mumbled, timidly interrupted what was rapidly becoming a long-winded speech.

"Yes, Miss Weasley?" The elder queried, an inquisitive brow rising at the interjection.

"It seems," the girl divulged, "That I am a wolf."

"Oh! Well done, Miss Weasley." The Scottish woman complimented, clapping her hands. "It took me far longer to find my form. Remarkable work from a remarkable girl. But I would expect no less. Now, tomorrow night we will begin working on visualization exercises."

"But Professor-" The sixth year began.

"But nothing, Miss Weasley. Although it may not have felt like it, you have been in that trance for hours. It is nearing curfew, as it were. So, that will be all for tonight, Ms. Weasley. Good evening."

"Yes, ma'am." She quietly replied. "Goodnight Professor."

Waiting until her lioness was long gone, Minerva McGonagall pinched the bridge of her nose. From what she recalled about the younger woman's visit to the past, Ginevra had claimed to take two and a half months to master the transformation after she had found her form, and had only been a full fledged animagus for less than a week before she had been sent back to retrieve Gryffindor's Dagger.

"It seems I must begin gathering supplies if she is to be prepared on time. Here's hoping Filius has those calculations done soon..." She muttered, pouring herself a rather large glass of sherry to drink before she retired for the night.


October 7, 1996 – 2:21 PM

"Right, I want you all to have read chapters five through seven in your text by Friday's class." The werewolf held up a hand to silence the protests. "Come, now. I'm not asking you for an essay on the material," he chided, running a faintly trembling hand through sandy blond hair. "Keep it up, however," he snapped, "And the class will find themselves taking a quiz on the reading material. Am I understood?"

Frowning, Ginny Weasley added her voice to those hurriedly chorusing their agreement, brows furrowed as she contemplated the uncharacteristic display of temper. It was not at all like the mild-mannered man she knew to snap so suddenly, least of all over something as trivial as a few grumbled complaints about homework. 'Perhaps,' she thought, concern bubbling through her at the idea, 'Perhaps Professor Lupin isn't feeling well? The full moon's over two weeks away, so that can't be it. But his hand was shaking... Maybe I should stay after class and talk to him?'

Absently gathering her things, she carelessly dumped them into her bag and waved Colin off as the bell rang, mouthing the words "See you later." The excitable photographer nodded once and headed out the door, not even pausing to question his best friend. Despite what many a Slytherin would say, Colin Creevey was not stupid. He knew there were certain things she couldn't tell him, and he would never betray her enough to ask.

Shouldering her bag as Colin's steps grew further and further away, the girl made a beeline for her now shaking teacher. "Professor Lupin," she queried, voice rich with concern. "Professor, are you alright? Professor?" The man before her made no attempt to respond, eyes glazed over as he trembled violently in his chair. Hesitantly reaching out, the girl laid a tentative hand on his arm, shaking the appendage lightly. "Professor," she repeated again, as his own hand laced through hers, bringing her wrist to his mouth and sniffing. "Remus!" She called desperately, panic racing through her veins as he pressed a kiss to her captive wrist, "Remus, snap out of it! You're scaring me..." She murmured, shaking like a leaf.

Amber eyes darting to her terrified form with something akin to recognition, the werewolf relaxed his grip enough to let the scared redhead pry her wrist loose, only to growl at the loss. "Professor," she murmured, a hysterical note entering her voice. "Professor," she repeated again, only to have the older man shake his head, as though trying to clear it. "Remus, snap out of it." She said, unconsciously echoing her earlier words.

Warm honey eyes overtaking amber, the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher brought his gaze up to meet his shaken student's, a sharp clarity entering his eyes. "Miss Weasley, I think it would be best for both of us if you were to leave now." His words finally breaking the spell his gaze had her under, the petite girl gave a jerky nod and hitched her bag higher up her shoulder.

"Yes, Professor. Good afternoon, sir. " The girl managed to get out before she turned tail and fled, her entire form shaking again as the odd encounter played itself over and over in her mind's eye.

"Damnit!" He roared when the girl was out of sight, "Damnit all to hell!" Picking up the nearest object he could reach, he stood abruptly and flung it violently at the wall. Mildly satiated by the sound of the glass paperweight smashing, he stepped out from behind his desk and began to pace. He knew there was something he was forgetting, something important.

"Damn right you forgot something important," Moony thought, wanting to howl with frustration as he fought desperately to free himself of the cage his human half forced him into. "Something like, oh, I don't know," he growled out, "OUR MATE?" The wolf shook his head in defeat and curled up into a miserable ball.

What was the use? It's not like his idiotic human would listen to him even if he got free long enough to explain what was going on. Knowing his human, he'd bury his head in the sand and deny, deny, deny. But damnit, she was theirs, and all he wanted was for her to come back.


October 7, 1996 – 6:12 PM

"Ginny, we're going to be late for dinner. C'mon," Colin pleaded, trying to rouse the shaken girl from her spot near the lake. Her skin was positively chilled, and her uncharacteristic silence was beginning to unnerve him.

"I think," Luna commented mildly as she gathered up her books, "that Ginny has no intention of coming with us. She hasn't moved since classes ended. Perhaps she's suffering from a wrackspurt infestation. They quite like red hair, you know."

"Luna," Colin snapped, "Be serious for a mo', can't you? She's not said a thing since she stayed after to have a word with Professor Lupin, just followed us out here and sat down, hasn't budged a centi since, not even to respond to us or do her homework. Something's wrong, can't you see it?"

Luna fixed Colin with a dreamy look, her voice far away as she spoke. "Or perhaps something's finally been righted. It won't be long now. Can't you hear the wolves howl?"

Colin blinked stupidly for several moments before shaking his head, feeling utterly baffled. He loved Luna, really he did, but sometimes it was trying to be her friend. Between her steadfast belief in creatures that were so odd even the magical world disbelieved and her cryptic comments, the Ravenclaw really could be too much. "Right." Colin said agreeably, unsure as to just what he was agreeing to. "Let's just get some dinner, yeah?" Casting one last worried look sideways at the pale, haunted redhead, he offered his arm to the Ravenclaw. "So, dinner?" Colin said hopefully as the blond took his arm.

"Oh, yes. I'm rather hungry. I think I've forgotten to eat again..." Luna said, hitching her bag up higher on her shoulder.

"Forgotten to...?" Colin muttered skeptically, before closing his eyes and taking a deep breath. Really, he told himself, he didn't want to know. With Luna, it was often the safest route to take.

Ginny knew she should feel guilty for ignoring her friends the better part of the afternoon, but all she could feel was relief as she finally heard them get up and head towards dinner. Honestly, she hadn't been in the mood for company since her encounter with Professor Lupin.

Well, her rebellious mind admitted, that wasn't strictly true. Fingers stiff with cold rising reluctantly from their place in her lap, she gently touched her wrist. An unfamiliar electricity sparked through her blood as her fingers ghosted over the spot his lips had touched. Shifting uncomfortably, she withdraws her cold fingers from skin that feels oddly warm and far too sensitive to the touch. 'Maybe Professor Lupin is sick,' she thinks. It might be worth stopping by the Hospital Wing, just in case. The last thing she can afford is to miss class this early in the school year.

Amber eyes flash across her mind's eye and her fingers curl into fists, her nails leaving little welts in her palms. Her mouth is suddenly too dry, and her tongue darts out to lick her lips without conscious thought. She's not sure why, but instead of those eyes being accompanied by the face of the worn-out Defense professor she's so used to, there's instead an image in her head of a younger man, with a dark, easy grace, and a predatory smirk. And no matter how she tries, she can't seem to shake it.

Worse still is the feeling that accompanies the surfacing image, the blazing heat and utter rightness that it leaves in its wake, even though she's never met this boy in her life. The words echoes of futures past rise unbidden from somewhere inside, and she shivers as though someone's walked over her grave. Again, the image surfaces, and this time her breath catches in her throat as some dark, distant part of her cries "Mine."

Clambering to her feet, she sways unsteadily as feeling rushes back into her legs in the form of pins and needles. 'I can't stay here anymore,' she thinks, 'it's not safe.' Shouldering her bag, she allows glazed chocolate eyes to dart wildly around her surroundings in search of the eyes that she can feel watching her. When she finds nothing out of the ordinary, she doesn't know whether to laugh or cry, but settles for heading to the castle in a brisk walk, her heartbeat thundering in her ears. She can still feel someone's eyes on her, and it makes her tighten her grip on her bag and quicken her step further. An insidious voice in the back of her mind tells her that if she were to turn around and look, she would see amber eyes, but she dismisses the thought with a slightly hysterical laugh.

She spends the rest of the night in the safe-haven of Gryffindor Tower joking with her friends, her unease momentarily quelled by the security of friendly faces and familiar surroundings. It's only later, as sleep claims her, that she dreams of wolves howling in the darkness and the thrill of the chase. The dream is as much a threat as it is a promise, and Ginevra awakens in the dead of night feeling hunted. Over the pounding sound of her heart hammering in her ears, she can just about make out the sound of a wolf howling triumphantly somewhere in the distance. The sound chills her to the bone.