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Chapter Eleven

Through all of dinner, Remus's mind was plagued by speculations, worries, and anticipation. He felt as if he would burst at times, yet he left no one the wiser to his internal confliction. He refused to bother anyone with his most likely foolish worries.

After dinner, he hurried out of the Great Hall straight to his office, arriving there even before Lin. Once there, he paced nervously, unable to stop the adrenaline which flowed through his veins.

Minutes later, Lin walked in. As soon as she saw him, she said firmly, "Calm down, Remus. There is nothing to be worried about."

Obviously, the issue could not be that serious, so Remus allowed himself to relax. Now, he was able to sit down without fidgeting or feeling the need to move around. While he did that, Lin perched herself on an empty spot on his desk. When he looked up, her legs were crossed elegantly with her hands clasped on top of them, resting gently on her leggings. Her sweater-dress had ridden up to a above mid-thigh, but not enough to reveal anything other than more of her slender legs.

She looked at him directly and said informatively, "One of my friends, a centaur, told me something quite interesting recently."

Remus frowned in confusion and asked, "What did he say?"

"He said that werewolves live to be about 200 years old, but they are almost always killed before they're 50," she said after a second.

"He must be mistaken. No werewolf has lived over 60 that I know of," Remus said, tilting his head to the side as he thought.

"He met a werewolf that was 180 years old," Lin said, leaning forward slightly.

Remus's eyes widened at this. His mind was running wild with what this could mean, not only for himself, but for the world. "What?" he asked.

Lin said seriously, "Believe me, Remus. I would not lie about this."

Remus looked like he wanted to ask another question, but his mind was running in overdrive and thus he could not articulate it. Noticing this, Lin answered the one question that was most likely on his mind, "I will live to be about 300 years old."

"Lin..." he said softly. That fact was like the icing on the cake, overwhelming his brain with speculations.

"Shhh," she whispered in return, "I know it's a lot to take in. Sit down for a minute." She guided him into an arm chair by the fireplace. There he sat staring at the floor in a daze.

After some minutes, Remus finally looked up. He swallowed once before asking, "What does this mean for us?"

Lin looked to the side and closed her eyes for a minute before she exhaled and looked at him. "It means that I can trust you and confide in you without fear of you dying long before me," she said. Relief rang in every word.

That was not what Remus wanted to hear. He hid that well, though, and said, "That's a relief."

Lin laughed breathlessly and said, "You have no idea."

Remus frowned again and said with curiosity, "Tell me."

"Since I came here, I have had to live with the knowledge that no one will live as long as me. My first time through school, I made the mistake of making friends. I later watched them grow old and die while I lived on. Albus was the only person who understood that, and even he will not live as long as me," she explained. Never once as she spoke did she break eye contact with him. "Now you have fallen prey to a similar affliction to mine. For that I am sorry."

"Don't say that," Remus said, shaking his head and standing up. He quickly stepped toward her and put his hands on her shoulders. "I would rather have this longer life where I have met you than a shorter, miserable one."

Lin smiled at that and said, "Thank you. That relieves some of the guilt."

"I am glad to be of service," Remus said, bowing dramatically.

Lin threw her head back and laughed. "You'd do better helping me trudge through the snow on Saturday in Hogsmeade," she said teasingly.

"Ever at your assistance," he said, both teasing and accepting.

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