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Chapter 8: Of Accepting One's Role

Remus stepped into the apothecary at around 6 p.m. for the first time since Rowan had begun working there. It was darker than he'd remembered. Fabian had informed him at work that Moody wanted to heighten protection for Rowan as he had his suspicions that the Delacroixs were being watched. The anxious feeling that had settled into his stomach surged up into his throat as he saw several glass bottles littered around the floor of the shop in shattered pieces.

Where was Rowan?

"Rowan!" he shouted, panicking. He moved quickly toward the back room.

"You're too late, boy!" a deep voice grunted out from the back stairs. Belby emerged from below with a venomous look on his face. Remus took a step back for a moment at the frightening man before moving forward again, suddenly angry.

"What do you mean?"he demanded, his voice raising.

Belby barked with humorless laughter. "She's gone! I fired her this afternoon!" he said angrily. He turned to look at Remus and scanned him over critically. "You –you're in that damned Order as well, aren't you?" he accused.

Remus didn't answer – Belby already knew. "You fired her because she's in the Order?" he asked indignantly, eyes narrowing scathingly. "How could you do that? She's worked herself to death for you!" he shouted at the older man.

Belby laughed derisively again. "I don't need some wannabe vigilante child in my lab! If you all want to play superhero, you can get the hell out of my shop!"

Remus was about to start into him again when Belby's eyes widened and his hand shot out, grabbing Remus by the jaw in a bruising grip.

"What are you-" he shouted, clawing into the man's grip.

"Don't move, boy!" Belby barked at him commandingly, and Remus stilled, breathing hard and glaring at the older man, wand armed in his hand.

Belby's eyes scanned over the younger man's face, and his eyes widened slowly with recognition. Remus saw the Potion Master's gaze peel over the cuts on his face and lingered on the long scar along his jaw. The blood drained from his face. He knew he'd been found out.

"It's you," Belby breathed. "You're the one," he whispered almost inaudibly. His hand released Remus' face suddenly, and he stumbled backward as if Remus had struck him.

Remus watched the man with wide eyes, fearful that he'd lash out at him, throw him out of the apothecary with accusations of fear and anger. But the man gripped the wall behind him and stared blankly at the wall above him, unseeing and unmoving.

Finally, he spoke, "Get out." His voice was so quiet that Remus thought he might have imagined it, but then Belby's eyes moved back towards his face and the anger was there again. "Get out!" he said louder.

Remus didn't need to be told again. He turned quickly and ran through the door out into the yellow sun, leaving Belby in the dark shop alone.

Remus was beginning to panic. He had gone straight to Rowan's flat as soon as he left Belby's apothecary, but it had been empty. Where could she have gone?

He suddenly felt very lonely – he hadn't really seen over the past couple of weeks, the rift between him and Rowan growing steadily. Ever since the Potters' wedding and their quiet conversation in the grass, she'd been slowly drifting away, and he hadn't been able to bring himself to pull her back to him. He didn't feel like he deserved to.

Marriage – it'd been a question in his mind since James had told him his plan to propose to Lily the previous autumn, but he'd pushed it back as best as he could until it seemed like the wedding preparations had taken over all of their lives. He'd had no choice but to consider his future with Rowan then, and when he saw Lily in her white dress, he couldn't help but imagine a certain dark-haired girl in one instead.

But he was a werewolf. His kind didn't marry, at least to normal witches and wizards. Every other werewolf he'd ever met was alone – wasn't that indication enough that he would never be able to marry Rowan, to have children with her? But even so, even knowing this, he'd stayed with her, asked her to be with him again. It was the pinnacle of selfishness, but every time he saw her speak to another man, the darkness in him would roar deafeningly, and he knew he couldn't just let her go.

But he hadn't been able to deny her sad thoughts that night, and as he saw her blink away her tears, thinking that he wasn't watching, he felt his stomach churn and wanted to fall at her feet and beg her to forgive him for all the ways he would still hurt her. She'd walked away without accusing words or even mentions of hurt, and he hated himself even more.

For weeks, she didn't look at him, and he began to fear that he might have disappeared without realizing it. She barely made an indication that she knew he was even there, and though it stung deeply, he was too afraid to reach out to her – didn't she have every right to leave him?

Yes, she did, but he knew he'd always chase her to the ends of the earth, just for a glimpse of her. Even as dim as it had been over the past weeks, her light was enough to sustain him for days. As much as he hated it, he couldn't deny the fact that he needed her, much more than she needed him, and even though he always knew deep down that he'd probably have to leave her, he didn't think the end would come so soon.

When Sirius and Mina invited them out, he was silently grateful to their friends since it meant that he'd be able to see her lively and smiling again instead of the cold, silent daze she'd taken on when they were alone. But when Sirius announced that he and Mina were moving in together, he felt the same loneliness in his chest, only magnified. He saw the momentary tenseness in Rowan's shoulders before she forced a smile to her face, and he was amazed at how convincing it had been. Even he had been nearly fooled by her act and was so startled by it that he couldn't muster the effort to pretend to be happy for them as well.

Though she'd begun to acknowledge him again after that afternoon, he still felt the division between them and wondered if she was slowly letting go of him finally. He supposed she deserved to move on, to find someone who could proudly call her his, who wouldn't be afraid to give her his name, but he couldn't bring himself to do the honorable thing and break up with her. Instead, he listlessly dangled from her fingers and prayed that he could hang on a little longer.

But where was she?

The sun was beginning to set, and the panic settled into his bones. He felt as if he'd know by now if something had happened to her, but the fact that he couldn't find her sent a chill through him – did she just not want to see him? But really, when was the last time she'd seen him? He felt incredibly lonely and wanted to be with her desperately.

He sighed dejectedly and decided to go back to his apartment – she'd come find him when she was ready.

Rowan had been in Remus' flat alone for about thirty minutes before he came home. She sat on the edge of his bed, which she felt almost guilty about – for some reason, she felt like she didn't belong there. It was strange though – Remus had left the sheets messy and undone. He was usually so neat, obsessive almost at times. She sometimes wondered how he could stand being in her space when she was so blasé about organizing her own things.

She looked around the apartment and noted that it was all messier than usual. It certainly was still much neater than hers, but there were a few shirts lying over a chair, and a couple of dirty socks were messily scattered across the floor by his bed. She almost felt like it wasn't even his place anymore. The air tasted stale.

When she heard the metal clinking of a key in the door, she jumped slightly and pulled out her wand reflexively but remained sitting. Remus opened the door quietly and immediately saw her on his bed, his eyes wide and face disbelieving. She was startled that she was there as well. It suddenly occurred to her how strange it was for her to be in his apartment when she had been avoiding it for so long.

He stood in the doorway for a moment with the door still open and stared at her dumbly, trying to determine whether or not she was actually there. She smiled weakly at him, suddenly very aware of her swollen eyes and sweaty skin, but at the slight twitching of her mouth, he slammed the door shut behind him. In an instant, he'd moved to the bed, falling to his knees in front of her and pulling her towards him roughly, burying his face in her neck. She nearly fell off with her rear perched on the very edge and let out a yelp of surprise. She flinched at the sound of her own voice.

Remus' hands clung to her, tangling in her clothes. He breathed deeply into her neck, and she worried vaguely about the thin film of sweat that she'd developed in the summer heat. He didn't seem to care though and kept his face there.

She suddenly didn't know what to do with her hands. Hadn't she always held him when this had happened before? She wrapped her arms hesitantly around his shoulders, and his grip on her tightened. Slowly, it felt more and more familiar, and she suddenly didn't know why she'd felt so awkward before – it had always been this way.

Another wave of grief hit her as she realized that, despite the inevitability of losing him, still nothing had changed – she was just as madly in love with him as she'd been at fifteen, and the thought sent another surge of hot tears to her eyes. She had tried so hard for the past month to push him away, but he shattered all of her efforts with one embrace. It was infuriating, maddening. She wanted to shove him away from her and scream at him, curse him, but she knew she'd always be there waiting for him to come back to her, quietly, sadly, always.