March came a week later, and though only a short amount of time had passed, it felt like a lifetime to Romulus. During breakfast in the Great Hall, there were rumours that the Board of Governors were voting for a new Headmaster to replace Professor Dumbledore. The students were babbling and gossiping with a sense of anticipation. It was a momentous occasion to have a new Headmaster. There were many students who felt that Professor Dumbledore couldn't possibly be replaced. Others were thrilled with the notion of change. At the Slytherin table, the blond second year, Draco radiated smugness. Rumours were that his father was the Chairman of the Board, and considering Draco's reaction, it was quite possible.

Romulus was speaking to Luna with greater frequency. Or perhaps it was more accurate to say that Luna would vocalize her strange ruminations. Meanwhile he would actually listen to her instead of walking away. She had made little headway in interpreting the reddish black colour from the runic circle. However, she had warned him of this, so he did not get his hopes up.

Romulus found himself making a greater effort to engage Primrose in class. And on the surface, things appeared the same. Primrose always acted in an attentive manner. She spoke as though she cared about his opinions and thoughts. But some part of her always seemed far away. Her hazel green eyes reflected whatever lay in her heart, and whatever it was, it wasn't with him. What made it worse was that she acted so cursedly happy. She reminded him of a bright-eyed squirrel that had just come across an immense cache of nuts. He felt villainous for not being happy about her happiness.

Primrose also seemed to no longer spend her time in the Ravenclaw Nest, and she was almost never alone. In a way, it was good - she was better able to avoid Toby, Marietta and Sarah. As long as Primrose was surrounded by Harry's friends, the Ravenclaws could not reach her. Yet, it was curious. Romulus would have thought that Toby would be more annoyed by the loss of his one of his Eagles. That was, until Romulus caught the way that Toby would glance towards Harry during meals in the Great Hall. During those occasional moments, Toby's expression was one of intense enjoyment. A frightening half-smile would tug at his lips, and Toby's black eyes took on a shining glow. Anything that made Toby happy made Romulus nervous. Toby seemed like the sort of person who would vanish away the half the limbs of a kitten, just to see it wobble and fall on it's face.

Romulus tried on multiple occasions to speak to Primrose after class. She was his friend, and it bothered him that she would brush him off with such casual ease. Except she always made him feel as though he was the one at fault.

"Why don't you just come with me and Luna and hang out with Harry? There's so many of us there - you're bound to meet someone you like. You know, Hermione's really smart. You can talk about potions with her," Primrose would say. She'd look at him, exasperated, like he was behaving like a spoiled, overindulged wizard. And then he would wonder, 'Why am I still even trying?' But then he would keep trying anyway. In moments of weakness, he would wonder if she was right. Maybe he should just spend time with Harry and his tribe.

"What happened to your research on your brother? Have you tried any more spells to detect his curse?" Romulus would ask. At which point Primrose would become either defensive or confused. Her hazel eyes would cloud over, and she would bite her lip, staring anywhere except at Romulus's face. And of course, she had important things to do, and couldn't stay and talk.

Primrose was even beginning to skip their defence practices in the Come and Go Room. Sometime she would claim she had forgotten (even though she never forgot before). Other times, she would use busyness as an excuse. But even on the days that she did train with him, her efforts were half-hearted. Romulus found the entire thing demotivating.

The full moon fell on the second Monday of March. Transformation usually felt like a release. In truth, it was a painful release, as his bones and muscle shifted, and tawny hair sprouted from his skin. But at the same time, he liked escaping from human troubles and living on instincts instead. Running, hunting, baying at the moon. It was a reprieve from himself. The scents in the Forest always fascinated him. There was so much there: the rich earthiness of the soil, the crisp smell of green foliage, the sweet fragrance of the unicorns, the muskiness of the centaurs.

During this time of the month, the Forest felt like his home in a way Hogwarts did not. He knew the trees, knew the inhabitants. He didn't care what anyone thought of him - the concept didn't even exist. Only surviving and feeding. Racing the wind and lapping icy water from the inky dark streams. Yet this month, he found that he couldn't enjoy himself. As a werewolf, thoughts did not solidify in his mind. Just primal instincts and emotions. He was left with just the persistent sense that his packmate was in trouble. He whined as he sniffed at every root and bush, hoping to find something to sink his teeth into that would take away his instinctive worries. His muscles twitched with the need to do something. But there was nothing he could do.

When he finally transformed back into his human form, he was trembling with exhaustion. For the first time in the entire school year, he skipped his classes and slept instead. His dreams that night were filled with the nameless threats of a great predator, snapping at his heels.

The new Headmaster was announced later that week. It made the front page of the Daily Prophet, with the peppery-haired Headmaster's photo splashed across the front. His name was Praxiteles Mole. One of his ancestors had been a Headmistress of Hogwarts back in the 1800s. He had given a speech to the curious students during his welcoming dinner. Professor Mole told them about how he had been an Arithmancy Master and teacher. He had taught at Hogwarts years ago, before moving to the continent and teaching at Beauxbatons. After over a decade, he moved back to Britain and devoted several years to research and experimentation. And now, here he was, sitting in the chair that Professor Dumbledore used to sit in. His robes were a subdued shade of earthy roan, rather than flamboyant purple. He did not wear any spectacles, his beard was short and neatly trimmed. And he looked very, very serious.

Without Professor Dumbledore's nonsensical humour to lighten the mood, the students were bewildered and subdued. Even Draco Malfoy at the Slytherin table had lost his smug expression. Instead, there was a measured look in his eyes. Perhaps he, like the other Slytherins, were wondering how they could use the situation to their advantage. At least many of the Ravenclaws were looking optimistic. Many of them had bemoaned the quality of education, and were eager for a change.

Romulus found that he didn't have strong feelings about the matter. He had not been attached to Professor Dumbledore. He knew that Remus looked up to the man, but Remus's relationship had been more personal. As far as Romulus could recall, he hadn't even spoken to Professor Dumbledore once in all his life. All that really mattered was his continuing education in Potions. That and somehow figuring out how to get Primrose to go back to being herself.

A week later, after a particularly messy Herbology class in which the students had to collecting cuttings of the Belching Swamp Cinquefoil, Luna pulled Romulus aside, wanting to speak to him. It took an effort not to contain his exasperation - both of them were covered in sludgy swamp muck, and Romulus longed to take a long shower. Luna, of course, managed to look quite comfortable, covered in sludge. ("It's quite good for the skin, you know." she had said.) He didn't point out that the sludge covered more of her clothes than her skin.

"I'm going to go shower and then meet everyone at the Great Hall," Primrose said, referring to Harry and his friends. She was often one of the first to leave at the end of class, and today was no exception. "Coming?" She looked at both Luna and Romulus.

"Mm. Another time," Luna said. Romulus just pursed his lips and tried not to look too disapproving.

Primrose's answering smile held a hint of mischief. "I think you're just afraid, Rom. Give everyone a chance. Well, talk to you too later!"

Romulus had no answer to that. Because the truth was, he was afraid. Just not for the reasons that Primrose assumed. Well, perhaps a bit - he didn't like being around too many people. But mostly, it was just Harry and his little feathered serpent, and his strange predatory magnetism.

"Come on," Luna said, once Primrose had left. "I want you to show me where Rosie drew the circle."

Romulus was surprised that she hadn't already found the runic framework. Luna had a way of knowing things, and he had yet to figure out her methods.

"I should have asked sooner," Luna continued in her light, dreamy voice. "But Harry has a way of attracting wrackspurts, while still being immune to them. The wrackspurts make it hard for me and everyone around him to think. But it's curious. I've been wanting to know what confers that immunity to Harry, but I have a feeling that the answer is - hm -"

Romulus looked at Luna, waiting for her to finish her thought. But her expression was distant, and a bit pensive. He wanted to know what she thought of Harry. At the same time, he had a feeling that he wouldn't understand her explanations. It was rare for him to make sense of the things she said. With a shrug, he left the greenhouse. It was an overcast day, but most of the snow had melted. More students were spending their time outdoors, eager to enjoy the fresh air of the upcoming spring. He loved the way the air smelled - alive and expectant.

He took a side entrance into the castle. Luna trailed closely behind. Navigating the corridor and stairs, he led to her to the dark, dead-end hallway where Primrose had drawn the circle in pori-pori berry ink. Since that day, he hadn't returned to the site. He knew next to nothing about runes. Furthermore, he had heard Primrose mention that the circle would be invisible. What would there be to see?

Luna crouched down, and examined the stone floor. Her straggly blonde hair fell forward, obscuring her face. She reached a hand forward, hesitating only for a second before she touched the ground.

"It's still here," she said. Interested in what she was examining, Romulus drew closer, and scanned the floor. In faint, bluish lines, he could see the delicate traceries of the pattern. Though it wasn't something he would admit out loud, he found the pattern beautiful. It had an interesting balanced quality that attracted the eye. The juxtaposition of curves and sharp angles resulted in a complex elegance.

"Shouldn't this be - hm - invisible?" Romulus asked Luna. She pulled her eyes away from the circle and met his eyes.

"Yes. And not only that, it should have long vanished. This circle is meant to only last a day or two at most. But I can still feel traces of magic. Can't you?" Luna asked.

There was magic all around, but as Romulus focused his senses, he realized that Luna was right. There was a hint of magic emanating from the pattern. He scowled at his own lack of attention. He should have noticed it right away. After all, he was a werewolf - he had greater magical sensitivity than normal witches or wizards.

Luna's eyes sparkled with a quiet amusement. She seemed to understand the reason for his annoyance. "It's alright if you didn't notice. It's the type of magic that doesn't want to be noticed - the invisibility wants to reassert itself."

"So - what does it all mean?" Romulus asked.

The sparkle in Luna's eyes dimmed. She looked back down at the circle, but she did not touch it again. "It means that we're dealing with something very powerful. It's attracting glomping-borbofors, so I think it's something dark as well."

Romulus looked around. He couldn't sense any creatures. He stood up and crossed his arms. The sludge, which had quickly dried on his robes started flaking off and making a mess. Luna's words did nothing to assure him. Based on the scent in the area, only Primrose and Harry had been here recently. Otherwise, all he could smell was the powdery, earthy odor of the stones. He glanced down at the runes. They had been drawn with some sort of berry ink, but he could smell nothing there. Perhaps the invisibility of the circle extended to other senses, such as smell.

"It's Harry," Romulus said, breaking the silence that had drifted down between them. He said it as a statement, but meant it as a question. He wanted to know Luna's thoughts about Harry Potter. He wanted to know if she was an ally. Luna stood up, and dried muck flaked off her robes like bits of snow. Her grey eyes seemed to have a prophetic quality. In that moment, he found himself wishing to know what she saw - not just with Harry, but everything else.

"I believe so," she replied. Her expression became distant. "It scares me a bit, how much I want to like him. It's better not to look in his eyes. But it also hurts to avoid them."

Romulus guessed that she was speaking about spending time at the Gryffindor Table. It was the only time he saw Luna anywhere near Harry.

"He - it - Harry can read hearts," Luna continued. "Not by magic, necessarily, but there is that as well. He watches everyone and everything. He knows what people wants, and when you're near him, you believe you can have it. It feels like love, but I don't think it is. It feels like love, and that's why everyone wants it." Luna's eyes shone with intensity as she looked at him. "Don't go near him, Romulus. Or the wrackspurts will get you too. Let me be the one to do that. Look out for Rosie. She needs us." Luna looked away, towards the open end of the hallway.

"I have to go. I'm almost finished that hat. Keep your nose out for snakes." With that, Luna drifted off, leaving Romulus alone with his thoughts.

His conversation with Luna didn't offer any useful information. Romulus still felt both better and worse after speaking to her. Better because he felt like she was on his side. Worse because she had confirmed that his fears about Harry weren't all in his head. And worse yet because Luna had the courage to be near Harry and resist him, while Romulus didn't have that courage at all. Still, it strengthened his resolve to do something. To help both Primrose and Luna.

It was past mid-March, and life had settled into some semblance of peace. Pranks were kept to a minimum. Antagonism between Gryffindors and Slytherins were limited to snide insults that rarely escalated into anything more. The new headmaster, though not severe, seemed to have no sense of humour. His austere demeanour infiltrated the consciousness of the students. Professor Mole was very serious about education. There was even talks that Professor Binn would be replaced with an actual, living and breathing Professor. The majority of the Ravenclaws were thrilled - even more so when they discovered that Professor Mole hat been a Ravenclaw himself.

Romulus was in the Great Hall for waiting for supper. He was sitting next to Primrose, while Luna sat on her other side. Suppers at the Great Hall seemed quieter ever since Professor Mole took over the post of Headmaster. It was especially noticeable at the Gryffindor Table. However, those that sat near Harry seemed to take strength from his presence. They appeared happier than the rest. But at the Ravenclaw table, there was an air of excitement. The Eagles discussed their hopes for the new History of Magic Professor. There was also speculation about how they would even get rid of Professor Binns. Would Professor Mole just announce it to the ghost? How would Professor Binns react? A few Ravenclaws were of the belief that Professor Binns would move on to the next realm. Some thought that he would have a fit, and start haunting the school in earnest. More than one Ravenclaw saw it as an excellent research opportunity into the nature of ghosts.

Before any food magically appeared at the tables, Professor Mole had stood up at the Head Table. He was wearing gray robes that were a shade darker than a stormy sky. His expression was expectant. The headmaster seemed to believe that his position afford him complete respect. His pale eyes swept across the Hall, assessing the maturity of the students with silent judgement. The chatter died down to a hush, like the end of a wind storm.

"I have an announcement to make," the headmaster said, when he was certain of everyone's attention. The Ravenclaws sat taller in their seats. No doubt expecting to hear about the teacher that would replace Professor Binns. Or, just as good, the teacher that would replace the Auror Greystone. She may have been an excellent auror, but she was an abysmal teacher.

"It has come to my attention that one of the students here at Hogwarts is a werewolf," Professor Mole continued. His mouth pulled into a hard line, and his pale eyes expressed displeasure. "Unlike the previous headmaster, I am of the opinion that those afflicted with such - conditions - should make their identity known to the student body. It is grossly unfair to allow the other students to take such a risk, not knowing who to watch out for. I expect the student to make their way to my office after supper. That is all."

Professor Mole sat down, but his words had left the Great Hall silent. Romulus flicked a panicked glance at the other teachers sitting at the Head Table. He knew that they knew of his identity as a werewolf. From the grimaces or sympathetic expressions on their faces, they had not revealed their knowledge to the new headmaster. How did the man find out? Did one of the students rat him out?

Romulus looked down the table at Toby Woodbridge. The fourth year met his eyes and his smile was cruel. But he shook his head slightly, as if to say 'it wasn't me.' The silence in the Great Hall soon turned into a low hum. He could hear snatches of words: horrible, scary, awful, dangerous. Students were looking at each other with mistrust. Whispers to friends and pointed fingers soon followed. Anyone whose behaviour had been questionable, anyone who was a loner, anyone who had a tendency to disappear. Behaviour that had seemed benign was now grounds for suspicion.

Edine and Sakiko who sat across from him looked pale. They kept darting glances at him before looking away. Alec Perriss who sat on his other side attempted to edge away. If he was trying to be inconspicuous, he was failing miserably. But Romulus wasn't the only one to receive frightened looks. It seemed that every House had one or two students that didn't quite fit in. With the headmaster's announcement, the alienation would only increase.

Supper that night was strangely tasteless, and Romulus couldn't finish more than half of what was on his plate. Few of the students lingered in the Great Hall that night. The students clung together in groups, as though the presence of their friends could somehow shield them from a werewolf's curse. Anyone unfortunate enough to have no friends were looked at with a kind of horror.

Primrose kept glancing over at him with a worry evident on her face. He could tell that she was trying to act normal, as though she did not want to give away his secret. In a way, it made him feel better. Knowing that she actually cared about him made the situation more tolerable. He waited for both Primrose and Luna to finish their meal before getting up to leave.

Once they were out of the Hall and in the corridors, Primrose spoke. "Are you okay, Rom?" Her voice was low and quiet. She had rested a hand on his arm, and her eyes shone with sympathy.

Romulus pursed his lips. He didn't really know how to answer. He didn't feel alright. But he also wasn't panicked or frightened. If this had happened in the fall, he would have owled Remus in an instant, requesting to go home. But now, there were things tethering him to Hogwarts. His education. His friends. If the whole school found out that he was the werewolf, would he want to stay? He met Primrose's and the Luna's eyes. And he decided that yes, he would still brave the ostracism and stay.

"I'll be alright," Romulus said. His words sounded a bit wooden, and he wasn't sure if he meant them. But he knew he would try.

"Luna and I will both support you," Primrose said. "No matter what anyone else says."

"So sure I'm the werewolf?" He didn't know why he would even deny it at this point. Perhaps he just needed to know how strong Primrose and Luna's suspicions were.

Luna smiled, in her enigmatic way. "Our support is unconditional. But don't worry, we won't be too disappointed if you're not the werewolf."

Luna's words caused Romulus to crack a small smile. "I'll try not to let you down," he murmured, feeling a bit surprised that he had even replied.

Luna's jest had soothed their frayed nerves, and the three of them were all smiling. In that moment, Romulus felt an ache in his chest and a prickle in his throat. He was with his pack, and they would stand by him, no matter what happened.

Romulus did not go to the headmaster's office that evening, nor any of the evenings in the week after. Primrose made more of an effort to do her homework with him in the Ravenclaw Nest. However, she still spent much of her time with Harry and his friends. He appreciated her effort, but there was no denying that it wasn't the same. The placid contentment she had once felt while studying with him was gone. She was able to act patient and willing, but Romulus could tell that it was still an act. It was Harry that she wanted to be with. He and Luna had come to a sort of unspoken accord. The blonde still had a habit of wandering off, and she still spent a lot of time with Primrose and Harry. But now, she often had a ready smile for Romulus, and a tendency to offer strange gifts ("Here's a speckled stone I found by the lake. It reminded me of you." "This root has a really interesting shape. I thought you'd appreciate it.") He could never quite bring himself to vocalize what her kindness meant to him.

Most of the other Ravenclaw first years gave him a wide berth. Edine and Sakiko acted downright frightened of him. Meanwhile Alec treated him with an uncomfortable, artificial niceness. It was a relief that most of the older Ravenclaws paid him no heed. Many of them had their own hypotheses about who the werewolf was. Romulus was only one of multiple possible candidates.

As for Professor Mole, the headmaster looked increasingly grim with each passing day. He seemed to carry himself with an air of heavy disappointment. It was as though he really expected the werewolf to just saunter into his office and announce him or herself. Thus, a week after his first announcement, the headmaster made a new one.

"Attention, students," he said to the already silent Great Hall. "I am gravely disappointed that that no one has come forward regarding last week's announcement. It is a sign of great responsibility to come forth when you have a condition that could affect the rest of the student body. I am loathed to do this, however, I feel there is no choice. If any students knows who the werewolf is, please come to my office and speak to me. And of course, House Points shall be awarded for your responsible deed."

Once again, the students were stunned silent by the announcement. The loners, misfits and oddballs of the school felt a cold fear in their bellies. The bullies, the small-minded and the bigots were wide-eyed with malicious excitement. Inter-house animosity began to flare up anew. And after the petrification and pranks, the cracks of mistrust widened between all the students.

It took only three days before Romulus's lycanthropy was discovered. But it was a hellish three days, not only for Romulus, but for all the students. It became a new insult in the school, to call each other halfbreeds or werewolves. Anyone unfortunate enough to be too much of a loner was beset by other students, and if not attacked, then they were jeered at and told to leave Hogwarts. Luna had stopped her solitary wanderings. She and Primrose stuck by Romulus like glue, to ensure that he was never alone in the corridors. Romulus felt trapped in an inescapable pit of apprehension. His sleep had been fitful, and his stomach felt constricted. With either Luna or Primrose at his side, there were never any shadows for him to hide in. Every odor that assailed his nose smelled of danger. Everyone smelled of either fear or aggression. Yet, when his lycanthropy became known, the situation became magnitudes worse.

The discovery of his identity had not been sprung on him like an unwanted surprise. There had been no pointed fingers, nor a dramatic unveiling. It had been a wednesday and he had just finished Herbology. Before he could leave with Primrose and Luna, Professor Sprout asked him to stay behind.

"We'll wait outside for you," Primrose said softly. She and Luna wore matching expressions of worry. Romulus nodded. He hoped he didn't look as haunted as he felt.

When all the students had left, Professor Sprout shut the door of greenhouse one, and laid a gentle hand on Romulus's shoulder. Her lips were pursed, but her eyes reflected kind sadness.

"The headmaster wishes to speak to you, Lupin," she said. Her voice didn't hold the usual briskness. "You're a good lad, and all of us know it. Don't forget that we are on your side. The password is prudentia." Professor Sprout gave Romulus's shoulder a gentle squeeze before sending him on his way.

"What did she want?" Primrose asked, once he had left the greenhouse.

"I have to go to the headmaster's office," Romulus said grimly. Primrose and Luna shared a wide-eyed look. Primrose wove her arm around his.

"We'll come with you," she said firmly. The walk up to the headmaster's office was silent. Romulus felt like he had eels squirming in his belly. His hands were uncomfortably clammy, and though he knew otherwise, it felt like everyone was staring at him.

The rest of his memories were a blur. He remembered the heavy sounding knock on the headmaster's door. He remembered the wide, circular space of the office, and the smell of books all around him. He remembered the pale eyes of the headmaster. Those eyes couldn't quite mask the contempt behind them. He remembered a wand being pointed at him, but he didn't know if he backed away or not. For a moment, he thought his death had come. But then he saw a pale yellow light shooting at him, and he felt a strange, coarse friction that seemed to rub his skin raw. The headmaster's eyes narrowed. Then a long admonishment about responsibility, restraint, fairness, protection (of the students, not of Romulus), and disappointment. There were many other, very heavy sounding and long words thrown in. Something about an announcement at supper. And then he was dismissed. For some reason, the word 'dismissed' rang with a clarity that the other words didn't have.

When he left the office, Luna and Primrose were all sympathy and compassion but he couldn't recall anything they said. He didn't know if he had replied to their questions. He didn't even know how he made it back to the Ravenclaw Nest. But then Luna had hugged him, and then Primrose hugged him as well. It felt like a warm blanket draped over his heart. After that, a shred of calmness returned.

At supper that night, Romulus's appetite was absent. Walking into the Great Hall had felt like a walk to the gallows. There had been a large increase of sapphires in the Ravenclaw hourglass that counted House points. It meant that a Ravenclaw had been the informant. Romulus knew that it hadn't been either of his friends, and he doubted that it was Toby. This sort of behaviour was not Toby's typical approach. Guessing from the half frightened and half vindictive looks from Edine and Sakiko, it was one of them. The two girls had always been scared of him. Even if they tried to hide it, he was always able to smell their nervousness. He knew that neither of the girls had actually known that he was a werewolf. He had a feeling that they had just chosen to lash out at him because of his friendship with both Primrose and Luna. Unlike Alec, neither Edine or Sakiko sat at Harry's table, and both girls had rather envious personalities.

Romulus had been expecting the worse, and yet somehow, his idea of the worse failed to encompass how the experience actually felt. He had imagined all sorts of scenarios. Being expelled (which would be unfortunate, but he felt he could tolerate it.) Being laughed at. But most students didn't find lycanthropy funny, so it seemed unlikely. Being stared at. That was sure to happen, no matter how things turned out. Having food thrown at him. He had a feeling he could dodge bread rolls and bits of vegetables with ease.

What made the experience worse was the sheer reality of it. The fact that it wasn't something playing out in his head, but that it was something real. The headmaster had stood up at the Head Table. His jaw held a firm, but satisfied resolve. He had been wearing deep red robes - more dramatic than his usual neutral colours. The colour reminded Romulus of spilled blood, and it seemed almost apt.

"Attention, students," He had called out, in his commanding voice. Nevermind that all eyes were already on him. It seemed like Professor Mole's standard greeting. "As you well know, Hogwarts has been harbouring a lycanthrope. While I am disappointed that this student has chosen not to reveal himself, you will be glad to know that he has been found. Romulus Lupin. Please stand up."

All eyes at the Ravenclaw table turned to him. Edine and Sakiko's eyes were wide with both fear and shock that they had been right. Primrose had rested a gentle hand on his arm, but the small touch brought no relief. On shaky limbs, he stood up, and faced the headmaster. He had no desire to catch the response of the other students. There was no need to see the disgust or fright in their eyes. He could already smell it in the air.

"I understand that having a lycanthrope in our illustrious school may cause some of you to question the security measures here at Hogwarts," Professor Mole continued. "Rest assured, the staff here will make sure that all of you are safe. If at anytime you feel threatened, be sure to tell me or any of the other Professors, and we will deal with the problem immediately. Your Heads of Houses will provide counseling to any of you that are uncomfortable with the situation, and we will do all we can to accommodate you."

When the headmaster sat down, Romulus sat down as well. Alec had managed to shuffle as far away as possible from him. Edine and Sakiko looked pale and horrified. Next to him, Primrose was glaring at the other students for daring to look at him askance. However, with the entire Great Hall looking at him, there was little that her angry looks could do.

A low hum spread throughout the Great Hall, increasing in volume as the students discussed the new discovery. Romulus could feel the ponderous weight of their antagonism settling on him. In a distant and morbid way, he found himself wondering whether he would survive the school year. He was unable to eat a single bite of his dinner that night.

When he returned to the Ravenclaw Nest with Primrose and Luna, Professor Flitwick was waiting for him. The Head of House's expression was sorrowful, as he pulled Romulus aside.

"I'm truly sorry about this, Mr. Lupin," Professor Flitwick had said, as though he had been personally responsible, and not the headmaster. "You're to be given a separate room. Follow me. Your trunks have already been moved."

Romulus followed Professor Flitwick out of the common room and down the stairs. He wondered if he had been shuffled away into some isolated, unused portion of the castle. However, his room was only corner away. Unlike the Ravenclaw common room with it's eagle door knocker, there was only a tapestry of a soaring hippogriff.

"Wisdom and Strength," the diminutive professor said to the tapestry. The hippogriff tilted its head with regal hauteur. It flew to the edge of the tapestry and gripped it with it's beak, before soaring off. This caused the tapestry pulled itself to the left, revealing an open door behind it. Romulus found it rather interesting that it required a passphrase and not a riddle. He hadn't given much thought to how the other Houses kept their common rooms protected from other students.

Though the room was along an internal wall of the castle, it had an enchanted window that provided a view of the forest. There was a neat bed, in shades of yellow and blue, rather than the traditional Ravenclaw colours. One wall was covered with a tapestry that showed a mountainous landscape. Romulus's trunk sat at the foot of the bed. Beneath the window was a large wooden desk, and next to it, a bookshelf. There was a door that led to a small bathroom.

"Ah - it's a bit small, isn't it?" Professor Flitwick commented. "We transfigured an old storage room. I am truly very sorry about this, Mr. Lupin. If you wish to talk, my office is always open to you." Professor Flitwick's eyes did not twinkle with his customary humour. It was unusual to see such a grave expression on his face.

"I - I'll be alright," Romulus said, a trifle stiffly. He liked his Head of House, but he wasn't accustomed to confiding in anyone. The Professor reached up and patted his arm, though he could only reach Romulus's elbow. He gave Romulus a final sad look before saying good night, shutting the door behind him.

That night, Romulus's sleep was longer than usual. His previous nights had been so fitful that he needed the sleep. The knowledge that he had his own space seemed to provide a feeling of security. The following day, he felt a shred of optimism when he saw Primrose and Luna waiting for him at the base of the Ravenclaw Tower. Both of them gave him a hug, and checked him over, as though he had been physically injured. As the trio walked towards the Great Hall for breakfast, they asked him about his new room. He promised that he would show them later. Luna was particularly interested in the enchanted window.

When he entered the Great Hall, he was aware of the stares of the other students. None of them seemed to feel the need to hide their goggling. Primrose and Luna, who stood on each side of him, pressed closer to him. He was aware that it looked like he was being protected by two girls. If he were anything other than a werewolf, the other students would have jeered and laughed. Most boys would have felt humiliated to be guarded by girls. However, Romulus wasn't like most boys. He was simply glad to have packmates to stand by him.

They sat down at the Ravenclaw table. Instead of having Primrose on one side, and Alec on the other, he found himself between his two friends. Alec looked rather queasy when he saw Romulus. Edine and Sakiko had lost all colour. It was rather satisfying to see that the girls were afraid of him. He had lost all respect for them long ago. If indeed they were the ones who revealed his secret, he hoped that they would suffer for it somehow.

The owls swooped into the Great Hall with the morning post. When students started unfurling their newspapers, he was alarmed at headlines of the Daily Prophet. It was easy to forget about the outside world while he was at Hogwarts. That didn't mean that the outside world would forget about what happened at Hogwarts. After last night's announcement, there had been a flurry of students writing home to their parents about the shocking developments at their school. Thus, it should have been no surprise that the newspapers would pick up on the story and report it.

WEREWOLF AT HOGWARTS, the headlines read. And beneath that: ARE OUR STUDENTS SAFE? Romulus didn't want to know what had been written in the article. Yet, at the same time, he needed to know. Whatever information that was written in the Prophet was being swallowed up by the students. He knew that werewolves had an extremely negative reputation. The only question was, how bad?

The article spent more time describing werewolves, and werewolf attacks than explaining anything about Romulus himself. Though the information was nothing new, the piece was still inflammatory. It was sensationalized and written in a way that was sure to inspire anger and fear, or perhaps both. The news was all anyone could talk about it.

In classes that day, no one dared to sit near him, except for Primrose and Luna. The professors tried to remind the students that Romulus was the same person that he had been all year. However, logic wasn't enough to combat fear. In the halls, the students gave him a wide berth. Wherever he went, he heard whispers, and received frightened looks. It was uncomfortable, but the timidity of the other students was something that he could deal with. What worried him was what would happen when that fear began to fade. The students couldn't remain scared indefinitely. Eventually, they would get used to the idea, and then what? Wasn't it just a matter of time before they got the idea that it was better to destroy him than to fear him?

The thought made Romulus angry, and the anger meant scowls and dark looks. Any student who chanced to glance his way ended up looking like startled rabbits, as though Romulus could turn into a snarling beast at any moment and eat them. Romulus was left wondering if it would be better to cultivate their fear. If they feared him, he might be safe. If that fear turned into bravado, then the others would become predators, and he, their prey.

After classes that day, he went to the library with Primrose and Luna. Under the watchful eye of the librarian Madam Pince, the both Romulus and the other students were able to feel a tentative sort of security. True, none of the students sat near their table, but it was hard to imagine anything bad happening in the library. They were busy with readings, when Primrose jolted in her seat. She looked down at her bookbag, which was resting against her leg.

"I think Sirius is calling me. I better go," she said in hushed tones. Luna and Romulus nodded. Their friend slung her bag over her shoulder, and walked past the desks into the corridor. A few minutes after leaving the library, Primrose returned.

"Sirius has Remus over. He wants to talk to you," Primrose informed Romulus softly. She was holding what looked like rectangular mirror in her hand. He had never seen it before, and looked at Primrose with puzzlement. Noticing the way he had looked at the mirror, Primrose explained how it worked.

"I'll be back soon, Luna," Primrose told the other girl, who nodded serenely. Throwing his books into his schoolbag, Romulus stood and followed Primrose out of the library. The found an empty classroom, and shut the door behind them. She handed him the mirror. Though Primrose had explained its magic, he was still surprised to see Remus's (and Sirius's) face.

"Hello, cub," Remus said. His eyes were filled with warm concern. "I read about what happened in the Prophet. Are you alright?"

Romulus didn't know how to answer. Remus was the one person that he could be completely open with. But knowing that Sirius and Primrose was in the room inhibited him. Primrose, sensed his hesitation.

"I'm going back to the library," she told him. "Just bring me back the mirror when you're done." She seemed to read the relief on his face, and smiled at him before leaving the room.

"I'm - I'm not sure how I feel yet," Romulus said to Remus in the mirror. "I don't know what's going to happen." No matter how vague Romulus's words were, Remus always seemed to understand him.

"Do you want to come home?" Remus asked compassionately. "We can always find another way to complete your education."

Romulus appreciated the concern. But with Remus's wages, it was unlikely that he could achieve the same level of learning as he did at Hogwarts. Here, he was able to work directly with a potions master. In the outside world, most potions masters wouldn't give an eleven year old a chance. Even if Remus purchased all the necessary books, it wasn't the same as working with experienced witches and wizards. Romulus was determined to remain at Hogwarts.

"I'd rather stay," Romulus replied. Remus seemed to understand. His eyes were filled with tender kindness.

"If you want to come home, just owl me, and I'll apparate to Hogsmeade and pick you up," Remus said gently. Romulus nodded, feeling a lump rise up in his throat. After that, Remus spoke a bit about the work he was doing with Sirius. Most of it involved complicated charms work. Although Romulus did not find charms as engaging as potions, he was fascinated by the complex products that his adopted father was creating. It was significantly more stimulating and interesting than his old part-time jobs. Once Romulus was able to see pass Remus's worry for him, he noticed that Remus seemed to look happier and healthier than ever. The air of exhaustion and stress that had once surrounded Remus had subsided.

He felt better after the conversation and returned the now-blank mirror to Primrose. She smiled at him, and there was an inquiring look in her eyes. However, he did not feel like discussing the conversation or his feelings. The three of them returned to their readings. Though the library was tranquil, Primrose struggled with her restlessness. She had been spending more time than ever with Romulus as of late. He knew that she would have preferred being with her brother. At the same time, he didn't feel like letting her go. Why should Harry have such an addictive quality to him? How did he know what to offer to people that made them want to return for more? In an odd way, Harry and Toby shared that similarity. Toby might not be as magically powerful, and he had a very different personality. Still, people were drawn to Toby just as they were drawn to Harry. Though in Toby's case, it was limited to Ravenclaws, and in Harry's case, it seemed to be just about everyone.

In the following days Primrose began to drift back to Harry. It was a gradual process, but she was like a sprig of a plant, stretching for the sun. And Romulus was like a shadow, blocking her light. She was guilty about it at first. She'd make excuses, but even from the beginning, the excuses sounded rickety. Eventually, she wasn't even bothering with excuses. His time was divided between classes, Luna, the library, or hiding away in his room. Since Luna avoided the Ravenclaw Nest, he had little reason to go up there anymore.

Classes continued to be awkward. Prior to being outed as a werewolf, most of the students ignored him. It wasn't a conscious act on their part - Romulus made an effort to be nondescript. However, once everyone knew of his lycanthropy, the students tried to ignore him with such deliberateness that he felt constantly watched. It was a bit better in the hallways. With his dark blond hair and quiet nature, it was easy to go unseen. Still, once he was noticed, it was difficult to escape the gasps and mutters that trailed behind him. At least History of Magic was more interesting these days. The headmaster had somehow convinced (or coerced?) Professor Binns to retire, and the new professor was much less monotone.

One of the worst aspects of the entire debacle was the morning post and the howlers. He had never received a howler prior to coming to Hogwarts. Now, he was receiving multiple screaming letters every day, from irate parents demanding that he keep his filthy paws away from their sweet innocent children. He didn't even know more than a quarter of the names mentioned. It was bad enough that he started avoiding breakfast altogether. The Hogwarts kitchens were more peaceful, and if not that, he could always remain in his solitary room. Although sometimes his room felt more like a kennel than a sanctuary.

The howlers were a reminder that the problem was far from over. He had a feeling that the headmaster was receiving a deluge of letters himself. In all likelihood, the parents were clamouring for his expulsion. Romulus felt like the days were grains of sand in an hourglass. He kept waiting for the day when the headmaster would call him back into his office, telling him to pack his bags and leave. Thus, when he was told by Professor McGonagall that the headmaster wanted to see him, it was no surprise.

He trudged up to the headmaster's office, joined by both Primrose and Luna. Primrose had been keen to join her brother and his friends. But when she realized that he was wanted by the headmaster, she offered Romulus her support instead. Luna was just Luna, and she made some comment about how the area around the headmaster's office tended to bring about the nargles.

At the doors of the headmaster's office, Romulus felt numb. It came as a surprise, but perhaps he was so emotionally drained that only numbness remained. He knocked on the heavy doors, and Professor Mole called for him to come in.

"Ah, Mr. Lupin," the headmaster said dispassionately. The man had an air of busyness about him, which made Romulus feel like he was disturbing important work. Professor Mole seemed to have a gift of making people feel small.

"Do come closer. I don't fancy having to shout across the room," Professor Mole said. His pale eyes were humourless. Romulus forced himself forward.

"I haven't seen you at breakfast lately," the headmaster observed. Romulus flicked a glance up at the headmaster's face. Was he expecting an answer? The silence between them was oppressive. Professor Mole narrowed his eyes by a fraction. Romulus looked back down, keeping his eyes on the large wooden desk.

"It should come as no surprise to you that parents are distressed to have know that their children are living in close proximity to a lycanthrope," the headmaster said, breaking the silence. He had a very precise manner of speaking. Every word seemed to be enunciated with great care. "Personally, I am of a like mind. Unlike the previous headmaster -" (here, a note of disdain coloured Professor Mole's words) "I do not believe in putting young students at risk."

Romulus felt as though everything within him froze. This was the moment. The headmaster was going to expel him. It was no surprise. He shouldn't have even come to Hogwarts in the first place.

"However," Professor Mole continued, interrupting Romulus's thoughts, "the other professors have a differing opinion." The headmaster's thin lips became even thinner as he frowned. "They seem to hold you in high regard. I've been told that you are quiet and studious."

Professor Mole looked displeased to reveal this information. "Quietness is hardly a virtue. But it's a credit to any student to be called studious. After a long discussion, we have decided to come to a compromise. If you do not agree, then you may pack your bags and leave." The headmaster reached behind his desk, and seemed to be pulling something out of a drawer. The black item looked like a collar. The headmaster watched Romulus's reaction, as he set the item on the middle of the desk.

"This neckband serves as a tracker. So long as you wear it, the professors will be able to find you at all times. It also senses aggressive intent. It will not prevent you from acting and it does not inhibit your free will." Professor Mole scowled as he informed Romulus of this. "But be assured that we will know if you intend any harm. Well?"

Professor Mole's expression was impatient and expectant. Romulus gulped, feeling uneasy. He was so certain he was going to be expelled. Instead, he was being asked to wear a bloody collar. Hell. They were treating him like a common dog. His pride screamed an indignant refusal. Romulus stared at the collar, asking himself if Hogwarts was worth the price. Was potions worth it? Were Primrose and Luna worth it?

"Okay," said Romulus quietly. He wondered if he sounded as defeated as he felt. He stood, rooted to the spot.

"Go on, boy," Professor Mole said with irritation when it seemed like Romulus wasn't planning to move. "Take it."

Romulus stepped towards the desk. He felt as though he was drawing near to a bear trap that would tear into his flesh, keeping him bleeding and fettered. With stiff movements, he picked up the collar. As soon as he picked it up, it seemed to pulse with magic. Seconds later, it disappeared from his hands, and he could feel it around his neck. The weight of it was like prisoner's irons, rather than just a neckband.

Professor Mole didn't seem pleased by his choice. There was no malicious satisfaction. If anything, Romulus got the impression that the headmaster would have preferred it if Romulus had gone home. For some reason, the headmaster's dissatisfaction made him feel better.

"I don't know where you have been going during your transformations, but from now on, you're not permitted to leave Hogwarts. There is a room down in the dungeons where you will stay during your transformation. Professor Snape will give you more details. Be sure to speak to him about it as soon as possible. We wouldn't want you to have any mishaps, now will we?" The pale cold eyes were almost hateful, and Romulus felt a chill creep along the length of his spine.

"You're dismissed," the Headmaster said finally. Not even bothering with a respectful nod, Romulus turned around and left. He was amazed that his limbs were able to hold him aloft. At the bottom of the stairs, Primrose and Luna were waiting for him. When they saw him, they fussed over him, asking what the headmaster had wanted. Romulus had no desire to speak about it. He was surprised that neither of them asked about the collar. They did not even glance at it. After a moment of reflection, he realized it was probably charmed to be unseen. Knowing that his collar wouldn't be gawked at was a relief. He hated the way that it had made him feel owned and marked. And alone. So achingly alone.

Later that day, Romulus went down to the dungeons. He had to check on his current potions project, and he planned to speak to Professor Snape at the same time. Luna had offered to come with him (while Primrose had already gone off to find her brother). However, he declined. The dungeons had a bit of a maze like quality, and he found it easy to avoid people down there. His sense of smell always kept him safe.

Entering the potions lab he checked the status of his potion. It was a potion for Dreamless Sleep. If Professor Snape was satisfied with the quality, then it would be sent to the hospital wing for use. The potion was an amber colour, but the final potion was supposed to be amethyst purple. He still had to add dried skullcap flowers, and dragonfly wings and mole eyes. The potion had been left at a moderate simmer since yesterday. After adding the final ingredients and stirring the appropriate amount of time, the colour changed to a deep blue. When he lowered the heat, the potion seemed to swirl, before becoming a brilliant purple. With a smile, he poured the potion into a phial, and placed it on the desk near the back of the room. Professor Snape always came by to pick it up at the end of the day.

Since the potions master wasn't in the lab, Romulus made his way towards Professor Snape's office. He knocked on the door, and the Professor called him in. Romulus has long ago grown accustomed to the jars of floating bits and pieces. He paid no heed to the specimens, his eyes focused only on the Professor and his parchment covered desk.

"Mr. Lupin," the Professor intoned in his silky voice. "I was told to expect you." His eyes drifted towards the collar on Romulus's neck. Romulus touched it self-consciously. He was the first person to have noticed the black ring that circled his neck. No muscles in Professor Snape's face shifted, but Romulus almost thought he saw sympathy in the Professor's eyes. However, he could have been imagining it. Their relationship had always been professional and distant, not one of camaraderie.

"Sit." The Professor gestured at the chair across from his desk "How is the potion for Dreamless Sleep coming along?" Professor Snape asked politely. This at least, was familiar territory.

"I just finished and stoppered it," Romulus said. "The colour came out a medium bright amethyst. It smelled like lavender, ladybugs and birch sap."

Professor Snape nodded. This usually meant approval. "I've almost finished marking your essay about it. It is satisfactory so far. You could have added more detail about the other uses of dragonfly wings."

'Satisfactory' was high praise from Professor Snape. However, Romulus was aware that he could have added more detail to the paper. He had been distracted by his problems with Primrose, and then being outed as a werewolf. Still, it was no excuse. Unlike the students, Romulus's papers did not have a length limitation.

"I'll do better next time, sir," Romulus said, holding back his annoyance with himself. It was tempting to make excuses - to mention his problems. But Professor Snape was not his confidante. Making excuses would only lose the Professor's respect.

Professor Snape hummed, a low sound that vibrated in his neck. Romulus peered up at him, and the Professor was scanning his face with his infinitely deep black eyes. His lips were pursed into a thin line. Romulus blinked, startled. The last time Professor Snape had assessed him to this degree was when he was trying to decide whether or not Romulus was worthy of being given extra projects. Romulus tried not fidget like a guilty child who had been caught stealing liquorice wands.

"How is - everything?" the Professor ground out. He sounded like he was forcing out unfamiliar or uncomfortable words. His voice lacked it's usual silken quality. The Professor's expression almost looked pained. Was Professor Snape inquiring about his life?

"I -" Romulus wondered if he should just lie, and say everything was okay. It looked like the Professor wasn't prepared to handle any sort of emotional onslaught. At the same time, he needed someone to talk to. Primrose was only ever half-there, and Luna - well, he couldn't make heads or tails of Luna. Either way, as much as he liked both Primrose and Luna, they were both girls. It wasn't the same. And Remus was too far away, and would worry too much.

"I hate this," Romulus replied, his voice cracking slightly. It came out more pitiful than he meant for it to. "I feel like a bloody dog. The headmaster seems to hate me." His voice started to gain strength as he continued. "Primrose never wants to be with me because of Harry bloody Potter. I'm going to spend my next transformation locked in a room in the castle. And when everyone realizes I'm not the rabid beast they think I am, they're going to rip me to shreds, just because they can."

After his torrent of words, Romulus was shocked. Had he really said all that? He looked up with a panicked glance at Professor Snape. It was as though he was expecting censure for his lack of emotional control. He didn't know where that mindset came from - Remus had always been nothing but gentle kindness. And yet, Romulus still turned out to be an extremely guarded wizard. Perhaps his wariness was from observing the way that people treated Remus. After all, Remus was the very definition of benign and considerate. The magical world was not a welcoming place for werewolves.

Professor Snape cleared his throat, looking uncomfortable. Romulus had never seen the Professor looking so ill at ease. The man had always acted like he had an iron grip on every emotion. Romulus wondered if he should apologize. Perhaps when the Professor was asking how everything was, he meant something else. 'Everything' was pretty ambiguous. But the Professor seemed to pull himself quickly together, as he considered Romulus's words.

"You - dislike Harry Potter?" Professor Snape asked, hesitantly. Romulus was bewildered by the question. He almost felt like it was a sort of test. Did Professor Snape know something about Harry? Or was he on Harry's side? Was he asking what Romulus knew about Harry?

"Erm -" Romulus started uneasily. "I - uh - don't actually know Harry that well. He's not my friend."

"Do you want to be his friend?" the Professor Snape asked. His voice had returned to a cool neutrality. Romulus could read nothing from his face. Romulus pursed his lips. In the end, he decided on honesty.

"No. Not -" Romulus cut himself off abruptly.

The Professor's eyes narrowed. "Not what?" The silkiness sounded almost dangerous.

Romulus gulped as his eyes darted towards the Professor and then away. He had started this. He might as well go all the way. "Not the way he is now." His voice was little more than a whisper.

"And what is he now?" Professor Snape's voice was like a spider drawing in a thread of its web. And it was Romulus's words he was pulling at.

"I don't know," Romulus said honestly. His shoulders slumped. "Someone I wouldn't want as an enemy, as much as I don't want him as a friend. His magic is - his magic feels dangerous. Or it did - he's better at hiding it now."

"You know something," the Professor stated. "Tell me."

"Why are you so interested?" Romulus asked. The audacity of his question surprised him. But at the moment, he felt a bit cornered. How did this conversation go from his personal concerns to Harry Potter? Why did everything have to be about Harry? Furthermore, most people didn't push him like this. Hadn't he already spilled all his worries? The dam of his emotions has already burst, and he felt like he had nothing more he wanted to say.

The Professor seemed to be debating whether or not to reveal his own thoughts. "You will tell no one what I am telling you today." Romulus nodded in agreement to the Professor's command. "I have suspicions that Harry has given way to Dark Magic. But I have been unable to confirm anything thus far. Mr. Potter's behaviour is far from normal for a twelve year old boy. The vast majority of twelve year olds are, for lack of a better word, nitwits. The ones that aren't are just better at masking their youthful foolishness. Mr. Potter -" the Professor swallowed a bitter lump in his throat, "doesn't strike me as a fool."

"Do all the Professors think the same way?" Romulus asked, wide-eyed.

Professor Snape scowled. "The rest of the staff seem blind when it comes to him." He spat out the word 'him,' and Romulus could hear the depth of animosity in his voice. 'He hates Harry Potter,' Romulus thought. He had sometimes observed Professor Snape looking at Harry with narrowed eyes in the Great Hall. Now he knew why.

"Not just the staff," Romulus muttered. Professor Snape raised a black eyebrow.

"Indeed," the Professor drawled. There was a moment of silence.

"Erm - am I fool or a nitwit?" Romulus couldn't help but ask. Professor Snape smirked.

"You're not a nitwit," Professor Snape replied, with a trace of amusement. "And not that much of a fool. But it was foolish to ask the question." Romulus's ears burned with embarrassment.

"So, what do you know of Mr. Potter?" the Professor asked, his tone once again serious. But the dangerous edge was now gone.

"Primrose told me that he's cursed. But she mentioned that Professor Dumbledore already knew this so - maybe you already know?" Romulus looked at Professor Snape, but his expression held no answers. He raised an eyebrow, as if to say, Go on. "She also thought that he might be possessed. She created a runic circle to test her idea. But the results were - erm - unexpected."

Professor Snape's already pallid skin somehow looked even paler. "Unexpected, how?" His voice sounded almost strained.

"Well, it was supposed to turn purple if he was possessed. But it didn't. It was reddish-black. We don't know what it means."

"We?" the Professor asked.

"Luna and I. I don't know anything about runes. But she does."

"You're certain that the runes were drawn correctly?"

"I don't know. Luna is certain though," Romulus explained. Professor Snape pursed his lips, and his expression was thoughtful.

"Do you know what it means, sir?" Romulus asked hopefully.

A deep line appeared between the Professor's brows. "Unfortunately, ancient runes isn't something I have studied extensively. Is there anything else you know?" Romulus shook his head.

The Professor hummed deep in his throat. "Tell me if you discover anything new." Romulus agreed. The silence descended once again, but it wasn't a weighty one. Although Romulus spoke more of Harry than himself, he felt a bit lighter. He wouldn't go so far as to say Professor Snape was an ally, but he was a potential ally. And that was better than what he had before.

Professor Snape cleared his throat. "I still have to show you your - transformation room." He sounded uncomfortable again. Romulus felt a twist in his gut. The Professor stood up, and his eyes told Romulus to follow. They walked through the dungeons, and though they did not descend any steps, Romulus still felt like they were heading downwards. The air felt colder and clammier. The walls seemed to close in on him. Even Professor Snape's robes did not billow as much. Romulus had never felt so claustrophobic in his life, and his instincts screamed for him to run. Finally, they arrived at a corridor which appeared to be lined with a row of wooden doors. The wooden doors had a rectangular window, set with thick iron bars. Oh, bloody fucking hell. Not this. Anything but this.

Professor Snape watched Romulus's expression, his dark eye taking in every minute detail. Romulus's blue eyes eyes met black ones. Romulus looked vulnerable and very, very young. His wide-eyes seemed to plead with the Professor. He was shaking his head, though his movements were slight, and subconscious. Though the arrangements had not been decided by Professor Snape, he felt guilt crushing his chest.

"I - I'm -" Professor Snape seemed to almost be about to apologize. "I did not wish this for you." The Professor clenched his jaw, and walked forward. He pushed a hand towards the closest door, and it creaked open. It was an actual prison cell. A prison cell in the Hogwarts dungeon. Romulus felt like he shouldn't have been surprised that the dungeons were actually dungeons. Yet he was. Romulus peered into the small, squarish room. It smelled like sweat, fear and bodily fluids. The smell was faint, and old - it was evident that the house elves had come in here and cleaned it out. But to Romulus's sensitive nose, the smell was was unmistakable. Along one of the walls was a set of rusted manacles. Romulus couldn't bring himself to enter the room.

"You don't have to do this," Professor Snape said, and his voice was oddly gentle. Romulus turned his head to look up at the Professor. He was reminding Romulus of his other option - the choice of packing up and going home. Romulus swallowed, and his gut ached. He wanted Remus to hold him - to tell him that everything was going to be alright. But he didn't want Professor Mole to win. He didn't want to leave Primrose and Luna to Harry. He didn't want to give up potions.

"I - I do. I have to do this," Romulus said. He was able to keep the tremble out of his voice. But his blue eyes still looked terribly vulnerable.

Professor Snape nodded, his expression grave. There was a respect in his eyes, which gave Romulus strength. They left the bowels of the dungeon in silence. When Romulus finally made his way back to his room, he collapsed on his bed in a boneless heap.


A/N: I have one more chapter after this one before I kinda gave up.

One of my biggest issues (aside from plot holes) was that I couldn't get into Rosie's head. I know I wrote her, but I still don't 'get' her, or know what she does what she does. You can probably guess from this chapter that's all about Rom

I am starting a new story though, based on the fairy-tale Rapunzel. It's pretty fun, doing original world-building :)

A/N: I finally have time to write, and instead of working on my fairy tale (which will be a big project), I got side-tracked on another story. This one will be based on Aesop's fable "The Lion and the Slave." It'll be a fantasy though because I can't resist world-building. If you enjoy fantasy (and eventual romance) check it out (on my page). I will eventually include art with it (on ao3)