AN: Inspired by a story request from tigergirl-moonstar. Please note that I have taken some personal liberties with the storyline and certain characters. For example, Tonks is born in 1962 instead of 1973.

Disclaimer: All characters are owned by JK Rowling except any OCs.

Warnings: Slash, torture, angst, abuse, abduction, sexual themes

Chapter 14

The Village

The office was blessedly empty when Remus arrived, far earlier than his shift normally required. As there'd been no word from any of his contacts in regards to Greyback, he would have to make the trip west to the small village of Osbourney. The town was inhabited by a few muggles and regarded as a rather plain place to live, not having much in the way of attraction; the general population was either older or somewhat impoverished. The Ministry chose to keep an eye on the residents of Osbourney due to the higher levels of werewolf occupants, and, until recently, it was relatively ignored by the muggle government. That was, of course, until the recent disappearance of two muggles.

Remus wanted to leave early for two reasons. First was so that he could avoid Kingsley chastising him for avoiding his appointment with Healer Neuman. Second, was that while he was glad of an excuse to leave town and therefore not be available for his appointment, he didn't want to be away from Sirius longer than he had to. Sirius' interview for the bartender position was today and Remus wanted to be there for him that evening. He'd already sent an owl to the Healer, and, with a couple of last scratches with his quill, the memo to Kingsley was finished. Remus charmed the parchment in the usual fashion all Ministry memos were so that it folded itself into a paper aeroplane and flew out of Remus' office toward Kinglsey's.

Satisfied, Remus stood up from his desk, imagining a very specific alleyway in Osbourney. With a sudden lurch, he felt himself pulled through space, his feet alighting on a paved road, the previously cool air now uncomfortably cold, grimy alley walls on either side. Out of the alley and just to the right there was a small diner. It was early yet, but Remus knew it would be open.

The diner was a place Remus sometimes visited when duty, the moon, or both drew him to Osbourney. It was run by muggles, but they were the sort who couldn't be bothered if their patrons seemed off, so long as there was payment and no trouble. Despite the early hour, there were several patrons already seated, scattered among the dining room in booths or seated at the bar that ran along the front, separating the front of the house from the back. Smoke clung in thick waves in the air from cigarettes carelessly smoked. Even the muggles of Osbourney found the place dismal, taking to whatever creature comfort and vice suited them.

Remus reached the bar and took a seat on one of the metal stools. A skinny, haggard-looking waitress coughed as she walked to stand in front of him, sounding like she'd smoked a few too many cigarettes herself.

"What can I get for you?" She held out a pad and a pencil, expectant.

"Just some coffee, please."

"And what'll you eat?" Remus took in her sight more fully, noting her worry lines on her forehead, the bruise on her arm.

"Er, some beans and toast I suppose?" Truthfully, he wasn't hungry, but seeing the waitress in front of him in such sorry appearance, he felt compelled to purchase something. She nodded, scratched his order on the pad and walked to the window leading to the kitchen. A moment later she returned with the requested coffee. It was bitter, and she didn't offer any cream. Remus decided not to ask.

A muggle two seats down got up and left, leaving the newspaper he'd been reading on the bar. With a stretch, Remus was able to pull the newspaper toward him and peruse the articles. On the front page, an article was printed for the missing muggles with their pictures printed. The article spoke about how every day that passed made it less likely for the pair to be found alive and had snippets of interviews with the families and the police. Muggle reporters had no way of knowing the disappearances were linked to Greyback or how the muggles had already been written off as dead by the wizarding communities. Their families claimed it to be the work of foul play, but the police were at a loss, saying there was no evidence or known enemies, no leads. The article went on to speculate that this would end up another cold case in history.

The bell on the door chimed behind Remus, indicating someone's entering or leaving. A moment later, a figure in a heavy coat, the hood pulled up over his head, sat bodily in the stool directly next to his. The smell of him! He was surrounded in a thick scent of general human filthiness, of dirt, sweat, waste, and something sharp to the nose, coppery and disturbing. Remus' sense of smell was sharper than most, but there wasn't a person in the restaurant who didn't realise the stench the person carried with him.

"Can I get something for you," the waitress said in her rough voice. She looked like she'd rather hide in the kitchen, and was torn between her duties and her revulsion.

"Coffee and whiskey." His voice was strained and gruff.

"We don't serve whiskey."

"Coffee then." The man started hacking as the waitress left. He pulled a paper napkin from the dispenser between himself and Remus with thick, black-rimmed nails caked with dirt and grime.

Remus tried to turn his attention back to the newspaper, but found he could no longer concentrate, and when his food arrived any appetite he may have had was gone.

The short amount of time sitting next to the man in the diner left Remus feeling dirty, uncomfortable, and anxious. He'd left as quickly as he could and now just wanted to get the information he needed and head home to shower and bury himself in Sirius' comforting scent. Still, he had a duty to uphold, a promise to fulfill for the wizarding community, the Ministry, and his fellow lycanthropes. As such, he found himself in front of the faded, peeling red paint of the row house Thomas Long rented. He and Karen Tapper were Remus' two contacts in Osbourney; both werewolves scorned by the Ministry who held woefully low-paying muggle jobs.

Dawn had only just risen over the horizon, but Remus rapped on the door anyway. Long might not be happy about it, but Remus felt certain a few galleons would change his mind. A moment later a disheveled, bleary-eyed man with thick black hair opened the door, a firm and unhappy expression on his face.

"Go away, Lupin." Remus thrust his foot into the jam to keep the door from closing.

"Come on, now, Long. Is that any way to talk to a friend." Dark brows furrowed over Long's eyes and his expression deepened into an unhappy scowl.

"We're not friends."

"Business partners, then. Look, I only need to speak with you for a few minutes. I've some galleons to make it worth your while." Long's face contorted a moment before settling back.

"No, Lupin. I can't. Just go." Something in his voice was nearly pleading. Remus leaned in close to the door.

"Come on, Long. It won't take but a moment." His eyes searched for something behind Remus, quickly, frantically, never meeting his gaze. "What's going on, Long? I know it's early, but you've never turned down the chance to earn a galleon before." Long's eyes finally met his own, set in his face with fearful determination.

"You need to leave before you get us both killed!" A rough hand pressed to Remus' chest and he was shoved back out of the door, which slammed loudly in his face. Something was going on, and Remus was feeling more and more certain Greyback was behind it.

Convinced Long would provide no information, Remus went into what served as the small village's down-town. It wasn't more than a couple of restaurants and some shops, but it allowed him the time to walk around until a more suitable hour to reach out to his next contact. As he walked, he couldn't help feeling like he was being watched. It was unshakeable, causing all the hairs on the back of his neck to stand on end and the urge to raise hackles he only possessed at the full moon.

The last shop on the small street that was Osbourney's main thoroughfare was a dusty bookstore that Remus wasn't entirely certain could be pulling in the revenue necessary to remain in business. He was at the back of the store when the smell washed over him, pushing through the dust, paper, and glue smell, foul enough to curl the pages.

Remus turned to see the same man from the diner, though now facing him, eyes trained on his, he could see, or sense, or somehow just knew in that innate way of his, that this man was like him - a werewolf. He was hideous, scarred, and dirty, but his eyes were a bright green, the barest edge of yellow beginning to lighten them now it was the new moon. With a nod, he acknowledged Remus, then jerked his chin, indicating Remus should follow, and turned to walk out the door.

They walked in silence, Remus a couple steps behind. At first, he wasn't sure where he was being led, but it became clear quite quickly as they passed the town's only cemetery, heading for the dense wood. It was a safe place for werewolves on the full moon, despite being closer to the general population than most woods used. The muggles of the town were superstitious and thought them haunted. In a sense, they were. The ministry sanctioned it an official safe zone, having enchanted it so that muggles would turn away from fear or in sudden remembrance of urgent business. On quiet nights, if the wind was just so, the howls from the turned would drift into the town, further reinforcing the urge to stay away.

"Who are you," Remus asked once they were past the first few trees. The winter had caused the leaves to drop, but the trunks were so close together that even now it would be difficult to see them.

"It doesn't really matter," he responded. His tone was short and clipped, with an air that said to Remus he'd tell him what he needed to know, and nothing more, when he was ready. They walked a few more minutes, deeper into the wood, before he finally stopped and turned toward Remus.

"Lupin, I've taken you here to warn you." Remus swallowed thickly, and gripped the wand in his pocket, just in case.

"It doesn't seem fair that you should know my name and yet I don't know yours." The gruff man shrugged, uncaring.

"Life's not fair, Mr. Lupin. I might not seem like much, and I'm not, but me and you are the same where it counts." So, Remus was right. The man was a werewolf. "Greyback's not here, precisely. He's close though. He's got his followers on the street, and he's got fear in the others."

"And you are?"

"Call me a conscientious objector. Greyback means to overturn the Ministry, and he's taking recruits by any means necessary."

"This is well and good, but why take me out here to tell me?"

"Less likely to be overheard. It's not out of Greyback's way to silence anybody by means of violence. Nobody'd miss an old homeless guy like me." He gave a rueful grin, providing a nice display of yellowed, crooked teeth. "I used to be a part of his pack, but I left. My days are numbered anyway. You should be careful about poking your nose around Greyback's business, Lupin. He'll kill you."

"I'm not afraid of Greyback." The grimy man let out a bark of laughter.

"Of course you're not. You should be, though. Afterall, he means to make a deal with You-Know-Who." Remus' heartbeat picked up and the hairs on the back of his neck prickled; this was the information he needed.

"How does he plan to do it? Where can I find him?"

"I'm not in the pack anymore, Lupin. I don't have the answers for you. I doubt you could find him even if I did know where to look. A man like Greyback doesn't want to be found unless he wants you to find him." He started to walk back the way they came.

"Wait."

"I've said all I know."

"What about the muggles? Why did Greyback kill them?" Green eyes flashed back at him.

"He means to take the Ministry down, Lupin, and he's going to get a following to help him, no matter the cost. Things are going to get much harder for our kind, not better. Despite what Greyback thinks." With that he disapparated, leaving Remus alone in the woods.

"҉

Sirius groaned as he awoke. It was far later than he'd initially intended, based on the time he could just barely make out on the alarm clock on the bedside table. The sun was drifting in lazily through the gap in the curtains, Remus' side of the bed cold and vacant. He vaguely recalled Remus leaving for work early because he needed to head out of town.

Strix's screech came from the sitting room, followed by the unmistakable sound of flapping wings and a tap at the window.

"Oi! Settle down, Strix," Sirius called as he walked into the room, trying to wipe the sleep from his eyes. "It's just the post, calm down." He unlatched the door and a small tawny owl flew in, bearing an envelope with Remus' name in purple. It dropped it off and left, not bothering to rest and completely ignoring Strix altogether.

Another owl, this one larger and gray, flew in behind him, landed on the window sill, and dropped a copy of the Daily Prophet onto the floor, holding out a small leather pouch expectantly. "Er, sorry, just a moment." Sirius went into the bedroom and found his pants, carelessly cast on the floor, and fished a knut out of the pocket to give to the owl.

"I don't know why we still get this rubbish," Sirius said to Strix as he glanced over the front page. It was another article on the deaths of the muggles, this time rather critical of the Ministry's inability to solve the case quickly. Another article detailed what a witch or wizard should do if they found out their neighbor was a werewolf (the options were move, make them move, avoid all contact, and hold armed all-nighters every full moon).

Anger washed over Sirius and he tried to quell it by making a cup of tea. He liked to think he'd always been open minded and it wasn't just getting to know Remus that made him supportive of werewolves, but he couldn't recall ever having put much thought to it. Regardless, he couldn't help his reaction, the desire to protect Remus from the bigots and their hurtful comments. They acted like werewolves weren't even people.

Sirius shook his head. He'd have to let it go. After all, he had an interview today, and if he was going to get anywhere with that he'd have to be his charming, happy self and not the brooding, angry wizard that the Prophet drew out of him.

By the time four o'clock rolled around Sirius didn't have to worry about brooding. He was nervous - much more so than he thought usual. As a member of the Black family, he'd never had to take a job before. On top of that, this one was in a muggle bar and he wasn't entirely confident in his ability to not come off strange to the owner and patrons. Still, he couldn't access the Black fortune without drawing attention to himself and his own supply had dwindled significantly. He had to contribute somehow.

Sirius drew his shoulders back and walked into the Rickety Stool. Jessica looked up from where she was wiping down the counter.

"Sirius! I'm glad you made it!" Her smile faltered as she took in his clothes. Sirius looked down at his clothes as well. He'd been sure to wear muggle clothes, he thought. Did he miss something? He couldn't very well ask a muggle if he was wearing appropriate muggle clothes though...

"Err… Is there something on my shirt?"

"Oh, no, it's fine! It's just… well, it is a bit casual for an interview, isn't it?" Sirius honestly didn't know the standards for a muggle interview. Should he have asked Remus about it yesterday? They'd all been rather miserable. One thing about muggle drinks was they left you feeling terrible the day after. Sirius opted to shrug and put a calm and confident look on his face. It was too late to go back to the flat and change anyway.

"I guess you're right. Let's hope my work ethic shows through, anyway." He leaned casually against the bar across from Jessica. "So, when do I get to meet the boss?" Just as she was about to respond, the sound of a door slamming in the back of the bar drew their attention and a large, gruff man with a unshaven face came from the back, casting a pointed look at Jessica.

"Alex called, said he wouldn't be in again. Says he won't be here tomorrow either." Jessica groaned. "I know, I'm going to have to can him at this rate." The man shook his head then looked toward Sirius. "Is this the bloke you were telling me about?"

"Yes, this is Sirius. Sirius, this is my boss and the owner, Matthew. Sirius expressed some interest in tending the bar." Matthew looked Sirius up and down.

"Sirius, have you worked at a bar or a pub before?"

"No, sir. But I'm a fast learner." Matthew nodded, considering.

"What experience do you have?" Sirius sighed inwardly. Of course they'd want professional experience, but he couldn't exactly tell them he'd successfully mastered high level transfiguration magic or that he was an adept duelist.

"I'm afraid I don't have any professional experience to speak of." Matthew seemed to roll his eyes and Sirius could feel any interest he may have had wane. Well, if there was one thing about being son to a family of aristocrats, it was the innate ability to bargain and maneuver the situation to one's benefit. He approached the counter and leaned against it, smiling and exuding the easy confidence the Blacks. "However, it sounds to me like experience isn't everything. Your other bartender - Alex, you said? He's not coming in today. That seems terribly unreliable of him. What good is his experience if he's not here to work? Let me work for you just as a trial. I'm a fast learner, so I'll pick it up quick, and I'm reliable. If you're unsatisfied with my work the trial ends and you'll at least have had an extra set of hands to help out for a bit." Matthew thought it over for a long moment, glancing between the clock, Jessica, and Sirius.

"If you can start tonight," he said finally, "then I'll let you on strictly as a trial. If you work hard, I'll extend an offer. If not, then I won't." Sirius held out his hand.

"Sounds like a deal."

"҉

Remus glanced up at the clock hanging adjacent to the pub's till. It was half past five. Tapper had been even less useful than Long. When Remus had shown up to ask questions she'd refused to answer the door at all and instead yelled at him to go away from the other side. He'd always thought they'd had a good working relationship, but he supposed in the face of Greyback that only went so far.

He took a sip of his beer, his thoughts running to Sirius. The interview may be over now. Did Sirius get the job? Remus' leads hadn't helped him any, and the one person who had given him information had slipped away shortly after and was nowhere to be found now. It wouldn't be wrong for Remus to return to the office, turn in his information to Kingsley and go home. In spite of this, he felt that there was more to get from Osbourney, that there was something he just hadn't seen yet.

Remus tapped his pen against the notebook he'd been writing in. All he knew was that Greyback had been behind the muggle deaths, that he was recruiting, and that he'd already spoken to the werewolves in town. His lone informant - the conscientious objector - indicated that Greyback wanted to join Voldemort and that he wanted to take the Ministry down. Did Greyback really think Voldemort would be kinder to werewolves? Voldemort was all about blood purity. So much so, he may not even allow them a part. Still, Greyback hated the Ministry with a passion, and he was actively recruiting. Perhaps he meant to offer Voldemort a werewolf army?

Greyback had to be found before he could make such an offer, but if Remus' regular werewolf contacts weren't willing to speak with him, he doubted others would. His eyes slid up to the bar where the barkeep, Saul, was pouring a beer for a muggle who'd come in a little earlier. Saul wasn't part of the werewolf community, but Remus had learned from previous conversations with his contacts and other members of the community that he was a squib. With any luck, maybe he'd noticed something happening but hadn't been approached by Greyback and therefore willing to speak.

Remus threw back the rest of his beer and headed up to the bar once the muggle patron had taken his drinks and gone to a table where his companion sat.

"Another?" Saul held up a pint glass, his hand already on the tap, but Remus shook his head.

"Remus Lupin, auror." Remus pulled out the worn leather fold that held his auror identification. "I'd like to ask you some questions about recent events." Saul shook his head, aghast.

"I thought being a squib I'd only have to deal with the muggle police, and yet here you are too. I suppose this is about those muggles what went missing?" His eyes shifted to the muggle patrons, but they paid them no mind. Still, he lowered his voice anyway. "It was werewolves, but you already knew that didn't you?" Saul whispered the word, as though afraid merely saying it would bring a fearsome pack down upon them.

"Yes. How do you know this? Did you see them?"

"They came in here the night before the muggles were found. I recognized one of 'em - seen him in the Prophet. He was big, real hairy bloke, lots of scars, had his nails filed into claws. I forget his name, but he seemed like the leader. Anyway, I didn't want no trouble, so I served them their drinks and kept to myself. The nice thing about being a squib, I blended right in. They had no idea I knew what they were." Remus fished out a folded up picture of Greyback taken at his last sighting and held it up to Saul.

"Is this the man you saw?" Saul nodded. "Did you hear what they were talking about? Perhaps anything about where they were heading, or their plans?" The barkeep shook his head.

"Like I said Mr. Lupin, I didn't want any trouble. I left them alone and they did the same for me. They were talking real quiet, so I didn't hear what they were saying, but it did seem like they were looking at everyone pretty close. When I heard about the muggles, I figured maybe they were in here looking for their victims." The door opened behind Remus and Saul glanced behind him before turning his eyes back.

"I have the information I need for now. I'll be in touch if need be." Saul looked like he'd rather not be contacted at all, but gave a short nod in understanding before greeting the patron that had just entered.

The air outside the pub had grown colder and the sky had darkened with clouds, snow already beginning to fall in icy droplets. Remus clutched his coat around him, trying to keep as much of the warmth he had with him. In the distance, the high and low tones of a muggle police siren drifted toward him and he briefly wondered what happened, before dismissing it as a traffic violation or some other such minor muggle annoyance.

Greyback appeared to have quieted any of the werewolves in town that might be willing to provide information, save for the defector of his pack. The only other information Remus had been able to glean was from a squib pub owner. It seemed reasonable enough to assume he'd still be in the area. Would the intel be enough for Kingsley to order a team of Hit Wizards to sweep the area?

The siren was louder now and interrupted Remus' thoughts. It's urgency pressed in on him until it was right upon him and then past him just as fast, hurtling away down the main thoroughfare. There were no speeding cars ahead of it and very little traffic on the street. A little ways ahead, however, Remus saw for the first time a group of muggles crowding around the mouth of an alley - the one next to the diner that Remus used as cover for apparition. Another siren caught his ear and an ambulance was right behind.

Remus jogged down the sidewalk toward the alley, hoping he just looked like an overeager muggle, but having a sense of dread the closer he got. He had to push past a couple of residents even as the police yelled for everyone to stand back and clear the area. Remus had seen all he needed to, though.

Leaned up against the brick wall, next to a rubbish bin, was the homeless werewolf Remus had spoken to earlier - the outcast of Greyback's pack.

"Oh god, it looks like some animal got to him!" A woman next to Remus covered her mouth, clearly sickened and distraught by the image. Murmurs and exclamations rose up from the small crowd.

"People, this is official police business," the officer boomed, his severe gaze casting over the muggles. "I must ask you to leave at once!" A man jumped out of the ambulance that pulled up and ran toward the body, even though his expression betrayed that he knew it was too late. There was nothing to be done for the man in the alley.

Remus took in as much of the scene as possible, committing it to memory for later review. It seemed very clear to him, however, that this was a message. Greyback knew that they'd spoken, must have known that Remus would come back here and see what had happened to his informant. He swallowed roughly and left, eager to get back to Kingsley at once.

If they didn't have enough evidence for Hit Wizards to be on scene before, they did now. He only hoped they brought them out before Greyback left, if he hadn't already.

"҉

"Good work tonight, Sirius," Jessica said. It was well into the early hours of the morning. Last call had come and gone and they had just finished cleaning up the bar.

"Thank you," he said, putting away the last glass.

"The ladies were especially taken with you," she grinned and stood as tall as she could, attempting to imitate Sirius. "'Another pint for you, madam?' 'Here you are, madam.' Goodness, you don't have to be so formal, but they ate it up!" Sirius remembered the older women at the bar who seemed to fancy him. He'd been a bit nervous starting out and so he'd reverted to his trained niceties. They were delighted. Toward the end when he'd hand them their drinks their fingers would brush against his and linger and they'd look at him with suggestive eyes. A shiver reached down Sirius' spine, but he smiled rather than show discomfort.

"I was just being polite. Look, they even left me a tip." He pulled the slightly crumpled bills out of the pocket of his pants.

"Really?" She looked up at him from where she was sweeping the floor. "That's unusual. They're not regulars. Were they American?"

"Er, no I don't believe they were." Jessica shrugged, swept the last bit of dirt into the dustpan and chucked it into the bin.

"Alright then, that's about it." She took off the apron around her hips and walked to the front door, keys in hand. Sirius followed and they left the bar behind. "I hope your first day of work was pleasant, because Matthew told me to let you know he'd like you to come around tomorrow too." Sirius nodded.

"Certainly, I'll be here." A cabbie was parked not too far from the bar and Jessica headed toward it.

"It looks like this is the last cab out here. Do you want to share it?"

"No I'm good. I'll see you later."

Sirius was exhausted. He'd never done real work before, having only had to work sporadically for the Death Eaters and he'd been in school before that. It was a good feeling to know that the exhaustion came from honest work. Was this how Remus felt after getting home from work? Sirius ducked into an alley and imagined the flat, desperately wanting to be there and hoping Remus was home as well.

The icy winter air melted away, replaced by the warmth of the flat. A fire was in the fireplace, providing the only light in the flat. Remus was sprawled out on the couch, still in the muggle clothes he'd worn earlier that day. They reminded Sirius of their old school uniform: slacks, a now crumpled white button down shirt, and a tie which was loosened, allowing a glimpse of Remus' creamy skin where his top buttons were undone.

"Hey," Sirius greeted. He bent down and captured Remus' lips, which tasted of firewhiskey. An empty glass and a bottle of the stuff lay on the coffee table and Sirius hoped Remus hadn't had too much to drink.

"How did the interview go?" Remus' lips ghosted over his as he asked, his hands reached around his waist and pulled him down to sit next to him.

"Good. I've a temporary position - that's why I'm back so late - but I think the owners going to hire me on. I'm a fast learner and quite charming." Remus smirked.

"Modest, too."

"How did things go in Osbourney?" Remus sighed and poured himself another drink before answering.

"Well, Greyback's definitely there. Or was. He killed the only werewolf contact that would provide me any information and I didn't even learn his name." He took a drink. "It'll be all over the Prophet tomorrow. Kingsley has hit wizards looking for him. We don't think he's there anymore, but we'll do all we can. The way he killed that man, everybody in the wizarding world will be able to see it's a werewolf attack." Another drink. "He's smearing the names of good werewolves and he's making the Ministry look incompetent!" Remus downed the last of his glass and reached for the bottle again, but Sirius covered his hand, stopping him.

"We will deal with it as it happens. You did all you could." Remus nodded and lay back heavily into the sofa.

"We'll need to schedule an Order meeting. He intends to make a deal with You-Know-Who."

"Well they don't take kindly to werewolves, so he's going to have a hard time of it." Sirius stood up and urged Remus to his feet. He swayed, betraying just how much he'd imbibed. "Let's get to bed." Remus looked like he wanted to say something else, but just nodded instead and allowed Sirius to lead him into the bedroom.