FF has been a total faggot (sorry for my unnecessary language) - it cut off a whole two paragraphs of the last chapter, so if it seemed unclear to you at the beginning, then you'll know why. I don't know if that's been going around. But I know there's a bug that won't show new chapters and stuff…it's happened to me several times around the site.

Thank you all so much for your reviews.

I am starting a Teddy Lupin fic; dunno if I'll post it soon enough, though. I do have the prologue written, but it's hard to read the same type of story when you're writing something like that, if you get that…(It's 2:15 am and I'm tired as hell.)

Without further ado…here you go. Chapter 8…

Three weeks had passed since Remus had left his wife with nothing but a poor explanation scrawled carelessly onto a slip of parchment. Looking back, Remus reflected upon his actions and realized that he could have taken a bit more time, but he convinced himself that he didn't care in the least. He was not meant to get married, let alone have a child, as he'd told himself so many times in the past month. He still couldn't believe his stupidity. He could have called off his initial engagement to Nymphadora, or at least been more careful while they were entangled in a mass of sheets together, rubbing against each others' bodies in the very midst of their love…

Remus shook these thoughts in particular out of his head. By now he was almost disgusted at the fact that a werewolf had made love to her - he didn't even think of himself as him; he thought of himself as a discriminated-upon werewolf. A thing, a monster, a beast. A man with a lycanthropy so terrible it strangled him and put him at risk each month on the full moon. At this thought, he grabbed a fistful of his own hair in an infuriating rage: The full moon would be in just a few days.

For the past couple of days he'd been staying at the Three Broomsticks, which he usually would have considered to be a cheap and predictable place to hide, but he desperately needed to load up on food again. He was tired; setting up a tent and sleeping on the ground (or not even sleeping at all) made things worse.

But today he would be leaving the Three Broomsticks to continue on his endless journey. He had been packing his very few things into his rucksack the past twenty minutes or so. He felt refreshed and even a bit exuberant as he left the inn and pub that morning, paying the small rooming fee.

Things had otherwise not been going very well for the Wizarding world in general. Scrimegeour had been mercilessly killed on the day of Bill and Fleur's wedding, and the Ministry of Magic had been taken over by Voldemort, snatching away the hope out of the lives of many. This made being on the run extremely tough for Remus: There was that persistent worry tapping him on the shoulder every few minutes to say hello that he would be spotted by Fenrir Greyback. Spotted and killed. As he left Hogsmeade and eventually wound up an oblivious stand-out among all the Muggles as he walked the streets of London, he almost wished he could write to the others…

He knew where his destination would be this time, though, rather than aimlessly wandering about. He was going to go to number twelve, Grimmauld Place, where he knew Harry and his friends would be. He knew that they were about to embark on the quest Dumbledore had asked them to complete. He wanted to go with them. This way it would be so much easier to get away from her - besides, he knew that he was a very intelligent, skilled wizard, one who would be of great use to three seventeen-year-olds. The protection of an adult, someone wiser and more experienced, would be an enormous help to them. They couldn't just turn the idea down. And when he would tell them why he wanted to accompany them on such a great journey, he was sure they'd understand his reasons.

Ducking into the nearest public men's room, he quickly occupied an empty stall. To get to number twelve safely, he'd have to Apparate so that he'd make it on the front doorstep of the house. There were sure to be at least two or three Death Eaters patrolling the entrance, guarding the house in case any foolish Order members showed up, at which time they'd kill them. The traitorous dog Snape, who'd turned out to be a Death Eater, knew the way to get into the house.

Locking the grimy stall door and focusing all his thoughts on the front step of number twelve and nothing but the front step, he closed his eyes and Apparated out of the men's room.

Remus punched the door to a room in the Shrieking Shack as hard as he could. Anger boiled within him like no other emotion ever had before as he flung his fists at the weak wooden door until it finally broke off its hinges and landed on the floor with a loud crash. His chest heaved up and down. He could feel the redness in his face as he stared down at the broken door before him, thinking harshly of the words Harry Potter had said to him just a short while ago.

"Coward!"

Remus John Lupin is not a coward, he thought as he looked desperately around the familiar room for something else to break, while the wretched word etched itself permanently into his brain. In haste he snatched a glass piece from a nearby table and destroyed it by throwing it down on the floor and watching it smash into a thousand tiny pieces.

I'M NOT A COWARD!

Remus fell hopelessly to his knees and looked around the room. Dumbledore had created the Shrieking Shack especially for Remus, for him to flee to on the nights when a full moon shone brightly in the sky, while he was attending Hogwarts for the school year. Dumbledore was gone. A long, twisted string of thoughts ran its course through his mind. Thoughts of Tonks, Dumbledore, Harry's unforgiving harsh words, the fact that he knew he couldn't bring up a child, even memories of when he had been here in this room as a schoolboy flashed before him, dazing him. He felt delusional. He felt stupid and idiotic. Most of all, he felt remorseful as he finally realized the truth on the words Harry spoke.

He, Remus John Lupin, was a complete and utter coward and he knew it.

He regretted and worried about the decisions he'd made with Tonks, such as the wedding and their unchangeable intimacy. He felt like he wasn't meant for her, he was worthless and nothing but a monster in the eyes of many. But most of all, he'd been so afraid and terrified of his future with her that he had abandoned his wife and unborn child, leaving her to raise a baby on her own.

He fell down on his back on the hard wooden floor, brought his scarred hands to his face, and uncontrollably wept. He felt horrible and knew that he was at the lowest of the low. He knew that he did love Tonks. He did love those most private moments that they'd shared together on Percy Weasley's bed.

And he would love his son or daughter.

He wouldn't need to be explained about to his child when he or she wondered why he didn't have a father. He wouldn't be the absent arm around Tonks as she slept alone at night.

But still he lay in a vulnerable position, letting himself cry, while he thought hard, working out a plan. He would stay here at the Shrieking Shack the next week or so, until the full moon passed, only with protective spells over the "haunted" building.

Then he'd leave the Shrieking Shack and eat again somewhere on Hogsmeade.

And then he'd return at long last to the woman he loved so, so much.

Sorry that this is a bit short - I can't help but write short chapters, I guess. A long chapter would mean combining two of mine, haha. Anyway, review it and tell me what you think. Suggestions are nice, as well as constructive criticism. I'm sure I misspelled a few things or used a few words wrongly...Is wrongly a word?