*Insert standard not-JKR disclaimer here*

Chapter Four: Settling In

Remus' natural tidiness, which had been absent the past two months, reasserted itself as he settled into his new flat. His kettle and tea tin went on the kitchen counter. Two plates, mismatched sets of cutlery, bowls, glasses, and mugs he arranged into a cupboard. He wasn't expecting to ever have visitors, but it seemed prudent to be prepared. Also, it made him feel less lonely to bring two of everything. Once he purchased them, the bread and butter got the other cupboard. He hung his towel and robe from the hooks on the bathroom wall, lined up soap and shampoo on the shower shelf, stocked the cabinet above the sink with toothpaste and the potions for following full moons. He sorted his clothes neatly into the wardrobe. His books he stacked on a corner of the desk in the bedroom. Opposite them he set up a quill and ink bottle, for editing the notes he would take at the library. He slid a stack of parchment along with a second quill and ink bottle into the same bag he'd used through the last three years of Hogwarts (it had been a gift from Peter on his 16th birthday), and tucked the spare supplies into the desk drawer. He propped his photo of the four Marauders against the lamp on his nightstand. His new cloak from James he placed carefully on the peg on the front door as soon as came into the flat.

Remus allowed himself to devote one week solely to study in the library before he searched for a job. A well-trod dirt road led from the outskirts of Wicklow upward to the castle in which the library was housed, which was situated on a foothill that further up turned into the mountain proper. It was perhaps a fifteen minute walk from Remus' flat. He liked making the trek by foot rather than Apparating, as it gave him time to shake off the nightmares and focus himself on his task. The first time Remus approached the library, he wondered why all storehouses of magical knowledge seemed to be castles. Wouldn't they blend in easier if they looked like Muggle universities and office buildings? This train of thought was cut off the moment he entered the castle doors. In the middle of the entrance hallway was a large circular desk behind which sat two witches and a wizard. One of them cheerfully greeted Remus, and upon learning that he meant to study in the library, gave him a pamphlet outlining its resources.

The castle was smaller than Hogwarts, only five levels, and had been built originally as a private home, while Hogwarts had been intended for a school. The basement was used for storage, and was off-limits to the public. The ground floor was devoted to defensive magic concerning creatures, the first to spells, and the second to potions. Of course, many documents overlapped these areas, but they were placed on a level according to the topic they most largely concerned. The top floor consisted of some offices and the Archives, a series of rooms containing rarer and more valuable manuscripts. These could only be accessed with direct written permission from the Head Librarian. Remus planned to achieve this at some point, but not until he had gleaned everything the other floors had to offer.

So it began. Every morning for a week Remus arrived as soon as the library opened at nine AM, and did not leave until it closed at seven PM. He then went to the town tavern, the Golden Goblet, and bought dinner: a bottle of butterbeer and either stew or a sandwich, the cheapest menu items. None of the other guests approached him, and he made no attempts to reach out. When he finished, he invariably laid down seven Sickles (two for the butterbeer, four for the dinner, one as a tip for the waitress), and went back to his flat to edit the day's notes. When he had filed them away, he undressed and got into bed to wait for another night of restless sleep. At eight, he rose and started all over again.

The ninth, a Saturday, was full moon. It was the first day Remus did not go to the library. He wondered if the friendly witch at the welcome desk would question his absence. He hoped not. On Tuesday, when he had sufficiently recovered, he left the flat at the usual time but headed into town instead of out. He needed to find a job; his funds would not last forever, and he needed to support himself while he studied. He would look for signs and if he found none, begin inquiring at the local shops. Some stores would hire clerks even if they weren't actively seeking them. He wandered the main street up and down, peering into display windows, then walked through the side streets as well, even venturing into the more residential areas in search of businesses, perhaps family owned but in need of extra help. Not one building bore a "Help Wanted" poster. He purchased a newspaper, the Castle Courier, from the post office and scanned the classifieds. The only job offering was an opening in the Ministry in Dublin for a tea boy. Definitely not feasible, with what the Irish Ministry knew about him. He tucked the paper into his pocket and went to begin asking shop managers if they needed extra clerks.

Late that evening, after a fruitless day, an exhausted Remus made his way to his usual single-person table in the back corner of the Golden Goblet. The waitress that made her way to him after a bit was one he had seen around but not yet met. He noticed as she took his order that she had a small, thin scar just where her neck met her left shoulder. He always tended to notice others' scars, he supposed because he had so many of his own. He was the one to notice the scar on Sirius' back at the beginning of their sixth year, as they changed into pajamas that first night, and wring the story about his mother's attempts to curse him as he left the house with his trunk out of him. Remus tensed in his seat, lowering his eyes to the rough wooden table, and forced his thoughts back onto the day's search. When the waitress returned with his order, he thanked her politely and turned his attention to his soup, but the girl remained standing at his table.

Abruptly, she said, "You've come here too many days in a row to be just passing through. What's your business in Wicklow, Mr.-?" She left the name blank with a questioning look.

"Lupin. Remus Lupin. You are correct; I've just moved to Wicklow in order to study extensively in the National Defense Library," he answered. He didn't ask her name, but she supplied it anyway.

"Ah, another scholar. I thought you might be," the waitress grinned, "I'm Lyra Doyle, and my parents own this tavern. If there's anything I can do to help you settle in and feel at home here, please let me know. It's so seldom we get anyone new in town!"

Remus was about to thank her and politely decline when a thought struck him. "Actually, there is something you can help me with, if you'd be so kind. Do you know of anywhere that's hiring at the moment? I'm looking for a part-time job."

Lyra appraised him. "You know, you might just be in luck, Mr. Lupin. Our weekend bus boy just got accepted into Healer training and is leaving for the hospital in Dublin tomorrow. I'll talk to my parents about setting an interview for you. But just now I believe I'm keeping other customers waiting, if you'll excuse me." She left with a quick smile at him.

Remus stared after her for a moment, unable to believe what he had just heard. After having spent all day futilely searching for a position, one practically fell into his lap via a chance conversation. He was very glad he'd decided to take a risk and ask the girl. He dug into his food, the unpleasant thoughts of earlier forgotten.

"Mr. Lupin!" Lyra called to him the moment he entered the nearly deserted pub at two the next afternoon, the time she'd set up for an interview.

"Miss Doyle. Am I on time?" he returned courteously. Best make a good impression if he was to get this job. He'd put on his nicest robe, the same one he'd worn to the Irish Ministry. He hoped it brought better luck today.

"Please, it's Lyra, no one in town calls me by my surname," she answered, waving her hand, "And you are perfectly punctual." She grinned a little at her alliteration. "Come 'round the bar to the back. My parents are expecting you."

Remus followed her to where a fifty-ish witch and wizard were relaxing at the table of a large kitchen. Lyra waved her arm at him. "Mum, Dad, this is the scholar I was telling you about: Remus Lupin."

The man held out a hand. "Ian Doyle, Mr. Lupin. Have a seat, and we'll talk over the position."

Remus shook hands and sat down. The woman now offered her own hand. "Maddie. Just Maddie. Cup of tea, Mr. Lupin?"

Unable to refuse politely, Remus accepted and sipped it while listening to Ian talk about the kind of employee he was looking for. "The shift runs from 4 PM to 2 AM Thursday through Sunday. You'd be a bit of a jack-of-all-trades, but mainly a lot of bussing tables and washing dishes. You'd help with the cooking too, under Maddie's direction. Once I've trained you up a bit, should I have an errand to run, I might ask you to bartend occasionally. Oh, and of course bringing things up from the stockroom, sweeping, stuff like that. How are you with your household spells, Mr. Lupin?"

"Quite proficient, I like to think. When I shared a flat with my friends in London, I was designated housekeeper." Remus managed a smile with his words, fighting the urge to swallow.

"Could you start immediately- tomorrow? We're in a bit of bind with our old bus boy leaving for training so suddenly; he had to be in Dublin three days after he got his acceptance letter," Maddie asked.

Remus nodded. "My schedule is quite open, my only other engagement being my research." And full moon.

"The pay isn't much, I'm afraid," Ian added almost apologetically, "Just one Galleon a day, but you get two half-hour breaks during your shift, as well as one free drink and meal."

Remus did quick mental math, the kind that made Arithmancy the only subject aside from DADA that he'd beaten James and Sirius in. 4 Galleons a week. One for rent, a bit over one for meals his three non-working days, and seven additional Sickles to purchase his weekly loaf of bread, quart of milk, and pat of butter. That left one Galleon, six Sickles most weeks to add to his savings. It would do. "That's fine. I don't need much." He smiled again, willing it to meet his eyes.

"Well, in that case, you're hired, Mr. Lupin. Unless you give me some reason to be dissatisfied with you, the job is yours for keeps. Any questions?"

He had to ask; he always had to ask, no matter how it reflected on his job chances. It seemed safe enough this time; surely Ian wouldn't think it too suspicious. "What about days off if I need them? With my research, I may be going to some out-of-town seminars that occur on weekends."

Ian shrugged. "As long as you let us know in advance it shouldn't be too much of a problem. We can't give you extra shifts to make up for the hours lost or pay you for them, but as long as you don't decide not to come in at the last minute it won't reflect badly on you."

"That's good. Thank you." Remus drained his teacup. In advance I can do… even if I didn't know the lunar calendar by heart, my body would tell me.

"Well then, Mr. Lupin, it looks like I've got my new bus boy. I'll see you at four o'clock tomorrow." Ian held out his hand once more as he rose.

"Tomorrow," Remus affirmed, shaking it, "Thank you very much, Mr. Doyle."

"You can let yourself out the kitchen door, Remus," Lyra added as she gathered empty mugs, "You come in that door too, whenever you're working."

Remus thanked everyone once more and let himself out into a little alley, glancing at his watch- 2:45. Still plenty of time to get studying done in the library. After today, he would study only until 3:00 Thursdays through Sundays, so he had time to return to his flat and file away his notes before work. He walked along the path to the castle, relieved to have found a job. Relief- was that really all? He searched within himself, but it was the only feeling he could muster. Happiness was certainly out of the question, but he found he couldn't even manage satisfaction. He could not help thinking, conceitedly perhaps, that the job was rather beneath someone of his skills. But it was the only one to be had, and the Doyles seemed to be nice enough people. The thought that he might write James and Sirius letters to receive the words of comfort he knew would come in response popped into his head. A second later, he realized the impossibility of this. A chill that had nothing to do with January passed through him. He visualized curious green eyes in a tiny face and marched determinedly onward.

The weather warmed gradually— very gradually— as winter ceded reluctantly to spring. Remus was fairly certain he was beginning to wear a faint rut into the trail from the library to his flat. Ian Doyle had told him more than once that he set his watch by Remus' arrival in the kitchen of the Golden Goblet at 4 PM sharp. The Doyles had embraced him cheerfully and completely, proclaiming him within a few weeks to be the most dedicated employee they'd ever hired. Following the lead of the tavern owners, the rest of Wicklow had absorbed him into their midst. He could no longer walk down the street without greeting half the people and while he still ate alone in the dining room of the tavern whenever he was not working, it was no longer for lack of invitations. Remus was polite to everyone, of course. He could not afford not to be; he needed the town's favor, which would ward off suspicion. He knew how to play the game. He'd had seven years' practice; at Hogwarts, where you knew everyone in your year at the least, you had to know how people viewed you and make sure you fit neatly into a safe slot in their minds. Working in London and living in the country he fallen out of the habit, as there was no one to notice him in either place (one being too crowded and the other deserted). But he fell back into the old ways easily, like putting on a long-misplaced coat again.

So he participated in Ian's man-to-man chats (yes, the Cannons are doing awfully this season), weathered Maddie's mothering (I promise I eat enough), and smiled at Lyra's teasing (If I do have a lover, why would I tell you?). He answered the townspeople's questions as scantily as possible without arousing warning bells in them, but never volunteered personal information. By May, he had moved onto being able to discuss the weather and their own lives with them— at least with the regulars at the tavern— which nearly always diverted their attention away from him. It was another skill he put into use once more with ease. Meanwhile, though the realization that his dearest friends were either dead or a traitor was still the first thing that came into his consciousness each morning, the nightmares lessened. By Easter he awoke in a cold sweat with Sirius-Voldemort's laugh ringing in his ears perhaps only once a week. Instead, when he dreamed at all, he dreamed of the Golden Goblet and the Doyles and the library— and Harry. This last one he relished, being able to spend his sleeping hours sitting on a garden wall in Little Whinging just watching the baby, a single moment that stretched for eternity— until his alarm went off.

Just before May's full moon, which fell on a Saturday, Remus was working as usual at washing dishes in the Golden Goblet's kitchen. He never allowed himself to take more than two days off for full moons— the one on which it actually fell and the one following that. With the transformation less than 24 hours away, he was already feeling ill, but he simply ignored his migraine to work in weary silence. He knew that his friends would never have let him do so, knew that they would have forged a letter to his boss saying he was ill should he even try to go in. They actually had done that once, after which Remus yielded to their demands that he give himself three days off for each full moon. He knew that at least one of them would have been dropping in to check on him and try to get him to eat tonight. After more than six months without them, he could still hear their voices in his head, could still feel Lily's soft hands perhaps touching his hair comfortingly and the Marauder's strong ones guiding him up to his room to rest. After more than six months, it still took everything in him to lose control when these memories came to him in public.

"You're very quiet tonight, Remus," Lyra said, sitting down at the table with a plate of food, clearly on her break, "You've hardly said a word since you came in. Are you excited about your conference tomorrow?"

"Hmm? Oh, yes… I've just finished looking at the thestral documents in the library, so it's perfect timing for the Dark Defense League's conference on them," he replied, lying easily about the excuse for missing work he'd given, "Pity it's only a two-day event."

"Well, there's only so much you can say about thestrals."

"You'd be surprised," Remus smiled, turning back to supervising the dishes that were scrubbing themselves under the direction of his wand. He hoped Lyra would let him concentrate; even a simple spell such as this was difficult to maintain steadily so near to full moon. He glanced at the clock above the door— midnight. Two more hours. He could make it.

"So you're getting a lot of research done up at the castle?" Lyra asked. "What kind of project is it you're working on again?"

Remus sighed inwardly. Why should he ever have expected that energetic Lyra would be able to sit quietly? But he answered, "I'm not allowed to divulge the specifics of my research for Professor Dumbledore, as I've said before; don't think you can trick me into telling you just because I'm a bit tired tonight." Or even because I feel awful from being on the verge of transforming. "But yes, I am getting a good amount of research done."

"So have you started looking for the hidden room yet?" she asked with a smirk.

"The what?"

Lyra's eyebrows raised. "Come on, don't tell me you haven't heard of it. You can't have been here nearly half a year, in the library practically every day, and not have heard the legend."

Remus sat down across from her as the last of the dishes settled onto their shelves, clean and dry. He was glad to have a moment of free time to relax, but even feeling as he was his curiosity was peaked. "Well, I haven't. Why don't you rectify the problem?"

"Gladly." Lyra cleared her throat dramatically and began to speak in an accentuated, storytelling sort of voice, "Well, long before the castle was converted into a library it belonged to the Healy clan. It started off as just a hall with a couple of rooms around it, but in the Middle Ages it was expanded by Cleary, who was head of the family at the time, into what it looks like today. Cleary was a scholar, and studied magic under some of the greatest tutors of the day. He travelled the world bringing priceless artifacts back home, including some of the manuscripts that are still in the Archives of the library today. Apparently, a number of these contained some instructions for some pretty powerful Dark magic, to which he was trying to find the counter spells. One day, Cleary's daughter was alone in his study, and the story goes that she attempted one of the spells from one of these manuscripts— and died. All they really know for sure is that Cleary's youngest daughter did die at only nineteen under mysterious circumstances. Anyway, so the legend continues that Cleary realized it wasn't safe to keep this material lying about, but nor could he bear to forsake his project entirely… so he instructed the workmen who were expanding the castle at that time to build him a secret room in which he could put his most dangerous manuscripts and continue his work, then he surrounded it with a bunch of powerful concealment spells. When he died, he didn't leave any instructions on how to get in… and people haven't stopped looking for it since."

Just as Lyra finished, Maddie came in with a fresh stack of dishes. Remus got to his feet, trying his best to make it seem like less of an effort than it was. "Well, that was a nice little tale, but I can hardly believe that it's actually true… but I thank you for the entertainment." He went over to the sink to begin washing the new dishes.

"Lyra, what nonsense have you been filling our scholar's head with now?" Maddie mock-scolded.

"I was just telling him the hidden room legend!" Lyra pouted, "It could so be true."

"Ah," Maddie said, and turned to her pale young employee, "She's got a point there, Remus. A lot of people seem to think there really is a hidden room… there's always someone searching for it."

Remus shook his head and focused his attention on his work. Unbidden, an imaginary conversation came into his head.

Really, Moony? Let's look for it! Sirius' eager voice said.

Yeah, a hidden room— it would be so cool. We found the Room of Requirement at Hogwarts; I bet we can find this one too. Padfoot and I'll fix a weekend to come down and stay with you to do the search, James' voice added.

His back to the Doyle women, Remus smiled sadly as he inspected the plates and directed them to begin drying themselves.

A/N: This chapter is dedicated to Bittersweet x, amazing reviewer of every one of my stories, with apologies for the wait. As always, all reviews are encouraged and responded to.