Dear readers, I cannot stress enough how appreciative I am of your patience and your dedication. I surely hope this chapter will be worth the wait.

This story has gotten is pretty close to 5000 views and that fact alone blows my mind away. I mean: who would have thought?! Thanks again for this.

What do you guys think about the new picture cover? Pretty sweet, isn't it? Needless to say that this girl is Amelia. Didn't think I could find someone who would look like the character I had imagined in that little head of mine but here it is!

Ignore my excited rambling, on with the story! After all, you waited long enough.

PS.: please note that I do NOT share the opinions displayed by some of my characters.

Chapter 9

Second Nature

Sometimes all Remus would wish for was to be able to be anywhere else than where he was. Anywhere but in his own skin.

That morning, the boy had woken up to find the world swimming around him. Nearly hissing at the rays of light filtering through the curtains surrounding his bed and jabbing him painfully in the eyes, Remus had barely held back a moan.

It was this time of the month again.

It shouldn't come as a surprise really. After all, it was an occurrence that was pretty predictable. It sucked nonetheless, and Remus couldn't help thinking it was a despicable way to start a school year.

The full moon would be shining down upon earth that very night and the boy's bones were already aching mercilessly as if warming up in advance for the brutal stretching it would have to endure.

The pain had him up at dawn. He spent the next few hours stuck in limbo: his body swaying undecidedly in between exhaustion and alertness.

When it was finally time to start the day, Remus emerged from his bed with his thoughts muddled and his mood plummeting. As soon as his feet hit the freezing floor though, his knees buckled and the boy crashed to the ground pathetically, his limbs refusing to cooperate. Groaning and cursing against the strike his infuriating nerves had decided to stage, the werewolf laboriously pushed himself back into a standing position.

He nose-dived in direction of the bathroom, staggering his way through the room and kicking Peter's trunk to the side angrily when he almost stumbled over it. Once the door was closed behind him, Remus began to peel his drenched night clothes off his feverish skin. Throwing them on the tiles, he entered the shower and turned it on.

Closing his eyes and pressing his forehead against the wall, the boy let the warm water hit the top of his skull, glide down his neck and rush over his shoulders. He lost track of time. When he was conscious of his surroundings again, he had no idea of how long he had been dozing off. Upon seeing that his skin had turned bright crimson and that he could no longer feel it, Remus figured he had wasted enough time in there.

Gripping the edge of the shower as to prevent himself from slipping on the floor, the werewolf left behind the comfort of the water and took a few steps into the bathroom. Steam left his skin along with the warmth it had provided and mixed with the fog that clung in the air. Suddenly finding himself shivering, Remus realized he had forgotten to bring his school uniform with him and cursed.

As soon as the thought came to him though, the brume cleared slightly, and he spotted a pile of robes on the counter which he hadn't noticed before.

Seems like the Marauders knew better than to let the boy think for himself on the day of the full moon. One of them must have anticipated his absent-mindedness and put the clothes there the night before.

Dismissing the questions in his head, which had begun to hurt again, Remus grabbed the robes and attempted to put them on the right way.

When he finally emerged, he found his roommates going about their business in relative silence, a kind of quiet in stark contrast with the usual chaos that ruled the room on most mornings. No more yelling from Peter who, like always, couldn't find a clean pair of socks, no more swearing coming from James as he tried to somehow tame his hair and no more loud guffaws from Sirius, who got a blast from observing Prongs' attempts to smooth down the capillary explosion that lay on top of his skull.

Remus could not figure out if he was grateful for the lack of auditory assault or if it made him feel uneasy.

A marauder was a loud marauder after all.

When Wormtail finally managed to track down his last woollen sock, which had somehow turned out to be in James' paper bin, the four boys, Moony in the lead, made their way to the door, yawning and rubbing their stomach in anticipation of the breakfast that was waiting for them in the Great Hall.

Before Remus could even reach the handle however, James had half-jogged, half-danced around him. "How about I go first." said Prongs with a dopey smile before disappearing downstairs.

Remus blinked.

Sooner than later though, Moony's temper flared and his lips thinned as he glared at the closing door. Turning to his best friends, Remus frowned in displeasure. "It happened once. I'm not stupid enough to let it happen twice. What does he think he'll do anyway: wait with his arms out in case my foot slips again?"

Even in his drowsy state, Remus knew the difference between protectiveness and paranoia. James' attitude was borderline condescending in his opinion. Honestly, Prongs was overbearing enough on most days, but when the full moon was near, things got ridiculous.

Peter and Sirius did not seem surprised by his snappy tone, but exchanged a knowing look, which only served to irk Remus some more.

Raising an eyebrow, Peter spoke cautiously. "Well you know the saying: better be safe than sorry."

"Besides" said Sirius, thrusting his hands in his pockets, "I'd rather not have to scrape you off the ground every time you take a swallow dive into the stairs."

"One time. It was one time." huffed Remus thoroughly annoyed.

Peter sent him a compassionate look and shrugged, before following Prongs out.

Moony stayed there for a second, too mad and too nauseous to move an inch. Beside him, Sirius chuckled. "Come on Moons, humor him. It makes James feel better."

White hot guilt jabbed the werewolf's heart briefly. As much as he didn't like to admit it, Remus knew he wasn't the only one suffering from his condition. For people like James, having to witness their friend's discomfort was as painful as having to live with the curse themselves.

It had taken a while for Remus to realize this, for he wasn't use to this kind of reaction. Wariness? Repulsion? Pity? Sure, he got that all the time. Compassion though?

See, it's easy to feel pity for a total stranger. Pity is something you can throw around without giving it so much thought. Compassion is a whole different story.

Compassion comes from the need, no, the urge to share some of the person's pain.

No one in their right mind would feel that way for an individual they didn't truly care about. Compassion is the kind of emotion that grows out of friendship.

Anger subdued for now, Remus sighed defectively and begun the tedious descent down the spiral staircase. Ignoring Sirius' none-too-subtle chortles, Remus took one step at a time, progressing with painful slowness: there was no way in hell he was giving reason to James bloody Potter.

When he finally made it to the Common Room, Peter and James seemed to be involved in an argument by the portrait hole.

"I'm telling you James, let it go. I'm sure she didn't mean anything by it."

"Did you see how she looked at me this morning Wormtail? I swear that girl has brainwashed her or something! It's not natural."

"What isn't? Lily looking down her nose at you? Get real."

As soon as Moony and Padfoot neared them, Wormtail caught sight of his friends and ended the discussion abruptly with a shake of his head. With the way James' eyes nearly rolled out of their sockets and his arms crossed in front of him, it didn't take a genius to guess who had won this round.

"So what are you two bickering about on this fine morning?" asked Sirius with barely hidden curiosity.

James' eyes became as big as saucers. "Nothing."

It was Padfoot's time to huff. James had a lot of talents, but lying to Sirius was not one of them. "Okaaay…"

Uncharacteristically, Padfoot decided to let it go and before he knew it, Remus was swatting away Sirius' hand as the boy offered it to help him climb out of the portrait hole.

"Don't push your luck, mutt." growled Moony.

Laughter was the only answer he got in return.

Damn dog.

Once his feet hit stone, the world around Moony faded from existence and the boy's focus zoomed on Prongs' back. Everything was too bright, too loud. All of the werewolf's energy was spent trying to put one foot behind the other without losing sight of his friend. Finding his way through the maze of hallways and secret passages was beyond Moony's ability at the moment and following James like a lost puppy was the only course of action that would eventually lead him in front of a plate of sausages.

Sausages sounded like heaven right now.

Remus' dream of juicy and sizzling meats was brusquely tore apart as a shove from behind nearly sent him sprawling on the ground.

Feeling as if a switch had been turned on inside his brain, the boy's body trembled as a tremor ran down his spine. Heart beating loudly in his ears, Remus felt fury spread like ice-cold water through his veins.

One pulse. Two pulses.

Inside him, Moony's head snapped up, fangs bared. His throat itched; a growl was building up.

The wolf was mad.

His environment now in sharp focus, Moony's glare zeroed in on two young boys running away with insolent smirks on their faces. Teeth gritted and jaw clenched at the sight, the werewolf's breath came shorter and his pupils dilated.

How dare they mock him in such a way?

A burning sensation overcame Remus' muscles. Moony wanted to chase, the wolf wanted to kill.

The boys weren't that far yet, the beast could easily reach them. It was a matter of two great strides, and then their flesh would...

"Oi, watch where you going, you little punks!"

"Yes, have a little respect for your elders!"

Shoulder held by a vice-grip, Remus blinked.

Padfoot's face filled his vision. "You alright Lupin?"

Dazed, Remus nodded. Spitting aside to get rid of the iron taste in his mouth and raising a hand to his lips, the boy frowned at the blood that covered his fingers.

Padfoot clicked his tongue in mild annoyance. "Musta bitten yourself."

"Here, have my handkerchief." Peter offered with a shaky smile as he waved a greyish cloth in Remus' direction.

Before Remus could even make an attempt at retrieving the handkerchief, James had snatched it away and was inspecting it with an air of suspicion. "Mate, did you even wash this?"

Peter's grimace had Prongs sighing in exasperation. James siphoned the dirt with his wand before handing the cloth to Remus with a knowing smile.

"Honestly, brats these days!" sneered Sirius. "They show no consideration whatsoever."

James met Padfoot's indignant glare with a stern gaze. "Get off your high horse, will you. If I remember correctly, these are the kids you raced to the Great Hall not even two days ago. Pretty sure you knocked more than your fair amount of people that time too. Talk about consideration."

Sirius' smile was unbashful. "You're missing the whole point, man. I won, didn't I?"

Prongs snorted. Shaking his head at his unrepentant friend, James slung an arm loosely around Moony's shoulders and coaxed him into walking again.

Without really realizing what was happening, Remus followed Prongs' lead and distractedly listened to his mates' amiable bantering.

"Well it's not exactly fair." Peter pointed out. "Your legs are twice as long as theirs!"

Padfoot's eyes twinkled in mirth and his smirk became wider. "Jealous Peter? Not my fault you got stuck with the short end of the stick. Don't blame your lousy genetics on me!"

Apparently Sirius couldn't think of anything funnier than his own humor and burst out laughing, clutching his sides. As his guffaws filled the air, Wormtail looked less than impressed by the boy's hilarity.

After chuckling a bit at Padfoot's antics, James came to Peter's rescue. "Don't worry Wormtail. Long legs give you no advantage when you're an idiot. All you end up doing is crashing into door frames."

Sirius stopped giggling at once and looked mildly offended. "One time!" he yelled.

With the face of someone who just won the jackpot, James continued his taunting. "It was all it took to leave your brain addled, am I right? I seem to recall that you invited Myrtle on a date the very next day."

"On a dare!" Padfoot yelped.

"My point exactly," prompted Prongs "who in their right mind would accept a bet like that?!"

Finally cracking, James starting laughing at his friend's expense, joining Peter who had lost it long ago and looked ready to wet himself.

Red-faced, Sirius marched into the Great Hall with a stiff back, grabbing Moony by the arm as he went past him. As much as he would have wanted to, Remus could not bring himself to care about Sirius' embarrassment, and, as soon as food was at reaching distance, he started piling up eggs, muffins, sausages and toasts onto his plate.

They had woken up early and the Hall was deserted. The few people slowly trickling in were doing little to add to the low humming of conversations. The sky was slowly changing from pink to a clear blue that held promises of grass wet with dew and of crisp, fresh air.

Remus barely noticed any of this. He was vaguely aware of James by his side, going on and on about how fantastic the weather would be for a friendly game of Quidditch against Lewis and his mates from Hufflepuff. The werewolf did not really care; he was rubbish at flying anyway.

All he wanted was to enjoy this small moment of relief: his belly was full, his senses weren't overwhelmed, his headache was tolerable and his nausea was practically nonexistent. The boy knew it was not going to last and he wanted to make the best of it before anything could come and ruin..

A shrill laugh suddenly pierced the air, tearing Remus away from his drowsy state of mind with a cringe. The source of the offensive sound took the form of a thirteen year old schoolgirl throwing her hair away from her face with an expression of complete oblivion. The girl's face, round and lacking the line that habitually betrayed sorrow and worries, was irritating, but it was nothing compared to her obnoxious giggles that rose, high and loud, towards the heavens, grating on Remus' sensitive nerves. The bunch of airheads surrounding her was no better, and each shriek and yelp punctuating the girl's speech sent a jabbing pain through the werewolf's skull.

Fuming, Moony glared at his pumpkin juice. His eyeballs felt like they were on fire and the zone right under his brows was throbbing insufferably. Gasping, the boy pressed the balls of his palms against his lids and tried breathing through his nose to lessen the pain, but to no avails. In the darkness, all he could hear was the yapping of the girl who sat a few meters away. Her voice assaulted his mind like the chirping of a thousand magpies and he felt himself becoming increasingly mad with each second that ticked by.

How he wanted to wring that bloody little bird's neck.

"Moony?, Moony, mate are you alright?"

Opening his eyes, Moony stared at the boy in front of him in annoyance. The dark-haired teen was looking at him with a guarded expression.

"Remus?"

Anger spiked.

The werewolf did not like the tone of this child. The concern in his voice was degrading and unwelcomed. Great creatures should inspire nothing but fear.

Receiving no response seemed to put the boy on edge and, as his grey eyes darkened, the color drained from his face, freckles standing out against his pale skin.

Still, Moony could taste no fear.

The boy's voice did not shake. "Careful Remus, your wolf's showing."

A growl scorched his throat. "Do not call me that."

"What? Remus?" The boy asked slowly as if trying to process something. Out of a sudden, his demeanor became arrogant, provocative. The boy's shoulders straightened and his head leaned towards him: a figure of dominance. "Why? That's your name." he drawled.

Silently, Moony seized the boy up, considering him. The teen was not feeble per se, he was broad and had good bone structure. However, it was nothing the werewolf could not throw aside with one blow.

One swipe of his claws, one bite, and it would be over, certainly.

The stare down went on, and none of the participants moved nor did they concede victory. The boy did not yield, did not blink, did not sweat.

It unnerved the werewolf. Humans were not supposed to be so resilient.

Hair at the base of Moony's neck stood on ends and shivers like a breeze ran along the length of his back. Deep in his guts, the werewolf knew something was off. The boy in front of him took a lot more space than he should have had. His presence filled the air; a looming figure towering over the beast.

The boy's stare did not stray nor did it waver, and for a second, the werewolf was reminded of a big dark hound.

Moony then became aware of a prickling sensation in his neck. It appeared gradually, but soon a burning pain replaced it and it became impossible to ignore. The werewolf felt his spine bent in response and his eyes widened in realisation.

He searched the boy's face but found no sign of weakening and realised that this was a fight he would not win.

Gritting his teeth, he struggled against the strain in his back and shoulders but slowly let his cheek fall on the table, neck exposed to his opponent.

The werewolf had been subdued.

It was as if his whole body had been held under pressure and he was finally relieved of a great weight. Blinking quickly, Remus raised his head and met Sirius' worried gaze. Padfoot must have had detected something different in his demeanor because his face instantly relaxed and he gave him a small smile.

A shuddered breath escaped Remus' lips as he realised how close he had come to losing his self-control. Guilt and shame pooled in the pit of his stomach and Remus averted his eyes.

At the Hufflepuff table, the girl that had caused all the mayhem had settled down and was reading a letter. Looking at her as she absent-mindedly patted her owl, Remus was having a hard time trying to recall what it was about her that had him going off like he had.

Merlin, what was wrong with him?

Well. That was a rhetorical question that needed no answer.

When Remus turned to look at him once again, Sirius' attention was elsewhere. Following his line of sight, the werewolf took in, not without a pang of culpability for not having noticed it before, the distressed expression on Wormtail's face.

The vulnerable looking boy was clutching a letter in his hands and was valiantly fighting back tears. James, trait distorted by concern and sympathy, had placed a comforting hand in between the boy's shoulder blades and drew slow soothing circles on his back.

"Calm down Peter. I'm sure everything is going to be alright." said James in a soft tone that had became familiar to Remus.

"Yeah, Wormy. Your uncle is a tough cookie. He's not that easily intimidated." mumbled Padfoot.

Remus frowned. Sirius was obviously battling with his own emotions and his internal turmoil was visible through the usual mask of indifference and bravado he wore daily.

As James continued to murmur sweet nothings in Peter's ear, Remus caught Sirius' eyes and sent him a questioning look. Padfoot hesitated, uneasiness etched upon his face and brows creased in worry. "Peter's mom wrote to tell him about an incident at his uncle's toy shop in Diagon Alley."

"Edgar? Did something happened to him?" Remus had met Peter's uncle a few times during the summer. He was a sweet man; very welcoming and warm.

Remus dreaded Padfoot's answer. Edgar had taken up the role of male figure in Peter's life after his father had left. Wormtail adored him, looked up to him. Had anything hurt the man...

"No. Nothing. He went to work the other day to find his shopwindow had been trashed. The front door had been forced open and some of the toys had been tampered with."

"Tampered with?"

Sirius' eyes were dark. "Well, you know: destroyed. It's not like Peter's mom would go into details but we can assume it was meant to scare him."

Peter's voice, which had risen up a few octaves in his misery, interrupted their conversation. "I told him. I told him to move the muggle display to the back room. I told him! I said : Pops, with all that had been happening this summer, you're better be more discreet about it! Or else people are going to think you're trying to mess with them. The wrong kind of people too!"

Wormtail had barely managed to produce more than a squeak by the end of his rant and he was so pale that Remus thought he was going to faint.

Suddenly the jug juice by Padfoot's side exploded, completely drenching him and causing little shards of glass to bounce off the table and onto the floor. As Sirius calmly casted the spells necessary to dry himself and reassemble the jug, James and Remus exchanged a glance, coming to a silent agreement.

Peter's control on his own magic was somewhat lacking and, in times, especially when his emotions ran high, incidents like this were not unusual. James, Sirius and Remus had learnt to expect and deal with these outbursts in a way that wouldn't cause Peter to become overly conscious of himself.

Prongs' tone was gentle. "Mate, how about you go and see Madam Pomfrey, hm? She'll give you a potion to calm your nerves. Don't worry about class, I'll take notes for you."

"I'll come with you. I wasn't feeling so hot anyway." added Remus, not making any effort to hide his exhaustion. He sent Wormtail a small, yet encouraging smile.

After Peter had consented, his Adam's apple wobbling dangerously, Remus led him out of the Great Hall and up to the first floor. By the time they made it to the Hospital Wing, Peter's fear and anxiety were running amok in spite of Remus constant reassurance.

The werewolf, on the other hand, was looking worst for wear. Beads of sweat gathering on his upper lip and on the side of his face, Remus was battling with his own nausea which had come back full force.

Determined to help Peter though, Remus swallowed his own complains and pushed open the doors of the infirmary, dragging the shorter boy to Poppy's office before knocking loudly on the mahogany door.

There was a moment of silence, some shuffling, and then the matron's head appeared in the doorway. Madam Pomfrey looked dishevelled: wild locks of hair frizzled under her bonnet as if she had been pulling at it in frustration. Her lips thinned the second she caught sight of Remus.

That woman had a knack at smelling trouble.

"Mister Lupin, I wasn't expecting you before seven o'clock tonight. What kind of shenanigans have brought you here early? Do I have to de-stick Mister's Potter hand from his hair because of some dual he got into with Mister Black once again? If so, Merlin help me…"

Remus hurried to set her straight. "No, no. None of that Poppy. It's Peter, you see. He hasn't been feeling well. It's his nerves again."

As soon as the nurse saw Peter's shivering form, her attitude softened. "Oh, Mister Pettigrew. What am I going to do with you, child?"

Madam Pomfrey casted a glance behind her and spoke to someone inside her office. "You stay here young lady. I am not done with you." The matron's voice left no place for argumentation. It was the tone she used when dealing with a particularly difficult patient, like Sirius. Or James. Or any of the Marauders, really.

Remus craned his neck to get a peek in the room. Almost as soon as curiosity gripped him, the boy chastised himself.

This was none of his business.

"Just take a seat Mister Lupin," said the woman, gesturing to the row of chairs lined against the wall, "this won't take long."

Energy quickly leaving him, Remus made a beeline for the chairs and collapsed into one, his head lolling back to rest on the stone wall and his eyes fluttering close.

His rest was short-lived however.

"Are you quite alright?" inquired a small voice beside him.

Almost jumping out of his skin, Remus snapped his head to the right and jerked back when he practically nose-bumped with a brown haired girl who was observing him cautiously.

He nodded half-heartedly.

The teen was tiny and her traits were still those of a child. Her doe-like eyes were curious as she openly gawked at him with her head tilted to the side. Remus felt his cheeks burn under her persistent stare.

How he had not detected her presence before was beyond him.

Now that he had however, he could not shake the sense of familiarity he felt around her. It was like he had become accustomed to something about her before. Maybe it was her traits, her voice... her scent.

Memories flood him. All came back to him in flashes: the smell of her panic among the sweat and the adrenaline, her terrified face, her tiny hand in his as he pulled her out of the chaos.

This was the girl he had rescued from the duel a few days ago.

Frowning, he turned to her. "Hey, aren't you.."

Suddenly, the door to Madam Pomfrey's office opened and Remus clamped his mouth shut. A mane of golden locks emerged from the room and the identity of the matron's secret patient was unveiled.

Dumbfounded, Remus watched as Amelia Deauclair's head turned left and right. After checking if the coast was clear, the witch stepped in the infirmary. Her eyes rested briefly on Remus and his companion, but, as soon as she estimated that they represented no danger, her attention went elsewhere.

Amelia went straight for one of the cabinet which Remus knew was filled with pain relief potions.

The girl seemed a bit out of it. Her appearance was a lot less polished than usual. She had obviously made no effort to tame her hair and there was a wild light in her eyes which the werewolf had only witness one time since he had met her.

Dread filled him.

He observed her as she tugged and pulled at the doors, getting more worked up as her endeavors remained fruitless. Then, he addressed her cautiously. "What are you doing?"

Amelia huffed in frustration. "What I should have done in the first place." she let out in between two heaves.

The girl besides Remus piped up. "Are you trying to steal medication? That's really dangerous, you know. My Mom and Dad are doctors, and they say only a doctor know what a patient needs."

Remus froze. No wizard would call a healer a doctor.

Well, that settled it then. That kid was definitely a muggleborn. The werewolf tensed in anticipation of Amelia's reaction.

If the witch was surprised she did not let it on. She merely shrugged the information off. "Doctors, hm. Well, I am sure there's some truth in what you say kiddo, but these" she pointed to the cabinet. "are not medication. They're potions and I know my potions."

Amelia turned back to stare at the glass panel separating her from the bottle she clearly intended to rob. "All I need is a headache reducer. That's what she would have given to me anyway if she wasn't worried about other things." she mumbled.

Amelia made a face. "I would have made it myself but, for some unfathomable reasons, Slughorn has refused me access to his reserves." she spat, annoyed with the potion master's unusual recalcitrance.

"The glass is unbreakable, you know." Remus told her, unnerved by the way the girl had been glaring at it. "And you aren't going to be able to pry the doors open. She's got an awful lot of wards on them."

The look Amelia sent his way was withering. "Magic? Couldn't you have said something earlier?" the young witch flared as she drew her wand from the waist of her skirt.

Amelia waved her wand at the cabinet in some intricate movement and smiled when its doors flew open.

Remus' jaw slackened.

Amelia's hand shot forward and grabbed the brown bottle out of the shelf. Goal achieved, the angelic looking girl turned around and fixed her gaze on Remus, looking at him up and down slowly.

The action could have been sensual. Hell, maybe it was meant to. For Remus though, it felt a lot more like being seized up in preparation for a scuffle. The werewolf sensed he was being evaluated as a possible threat, an eventual danger.

Amelia's smirk became predatory. "Merlin, Sandy. You look ghastly. Try not to die on us." teased the witch.

The werewolf's heart throbbed painfully at the mention of the nickname. Amelia was definitely not in the right state of mind. Again.

Now that her attention was solely directed at him, Remus could feel how much of a menace Amelia Deauclair truly was.

He felt it crawling on his skin. It made the hair on the back on his neck stand erected. Her power was like a beast on the prowl and it made Moony growl in response.

Remus could feel no ill intention coming out of her.

The beast was not in attack mode. It merely sat there; considering him, making itself known.

The message was clear: the heir of the Deauclair dynasty was a force to reckon with.

She was to be dealt with prudence.

"I could tell you the same." he remarked.

It was true. As much as her aura was intimidating, Amelia's body looked fragile to say the least. The girl's skin was sickly pale and moist with sweat. Furthermore, Remus could tell, by her restlessness and the way her eyes kept shifting, that she was falling victim to a high fever.

Amelia gave a shaky laugh. "Point taken. We make quite the pair, don't we?"

The witch's gaze shifted to the side, her attention now on the girl sitting next to Remus. Instinctively, the werewolf shuffled closer to the eleven year old and rested his hand on his hip where his wand lay hidden by the folds of his robes.

Amelia must have seen his movement from the corner of her eye because she grinned and made a show of putting away her wand as well as the potion. "You, on the other hand, don't seem on the brink of death, kiddo. What brought you here?"

The child, obviously thrown by the terseness that oozed from Remus, blinked a few times before answering. "I'm here to give blood. Madam Pomfrey said there was a first year that was sick and needed regular transfusions. She asked and I accepted to donate some of mine. My brother has leukaemia so I know was it's like…" the girl faltered, eying the older witch fearfully.

This time, Remus did not lose this time with subtlety and hurried to grab his wand.

At the mention of blood donation, Amelia had gone rigid. The last colors she had had on her cheeks drained from her face. Her traits seemed set in stone and her eyes were fixed on the girl, unblinking.

She was terrifying in stillness.

"Transfusion, you say?" Her voice was barely over a whisper.

"Yes. Some people, they get really sick. They've got a problem with their blood and they need to be given the blood of others." stuttered the young girl.

"Wizard do not get sick like muggles do." Amelia's words were harsh, final.

Desperate to get some of the heat off her, Remus came to the small teen's rescue. "Maybe if they get a magical disease, one that affect their blood..." tried the werewolf.

A sneer distorted Amelia's face and her eyes held an animalistic fervor. "Nonsense. Blood is what makes the wizard. It carries his magic. It's a silent testament of the story of his ancestry and the trials his family faced. A wizard betrayed by his own blood is no wizard. He is better off dead." snarked the pureblood.

"That's stupid!" the brown haired girl screeched, cheeks flushed in anger. "You can't hold it against someone if their body is failing him. They didn't ask for any of it."

Remus felt a pang of sympathy for the girl. This was probably the first time she was confronted with the extremist beliefs of hardcore pureblood elitists. Having a sick brother and having his illness judged in this fashion most certainly hit pretty close to home.

Amelia reeled back and for a second, her face contorted in guilt. Immediately, she tried to smooth her features but not without some difficulty.

When she finally regain control however, her eyes were as hard as steel once again. "See, this is exactly why people of your kind have no place in our society. You thought magic would give you a free pass to our world. You were wrong. "

Amelia' tone had lost some of its fire by this point, but her words were still as biting. "You do not understand our customs. You despise them. All mudbloods do. You try to change hundred years old of traditions solely based on what you believe is right."

Remus could feel himself tremble like a leaf. There they were: the same words said over and over again. It was the same litany. It just kept coming back to Remus' ears like the lyrics of that one annoying overrated song that played all summer on the radio.

It was the same tone. It was the same glare. The same blinded hatred.

Merlin, that word horrified him. Mudblood.

What did it even mean? What did they expect? That muggles bled greenish, putrid goo?

It was full of nonsense and reeked of ignorance.

Remus knew for a fact that blood did not differentiate people. Even monsters bled red.

He was the living proof of that.

"Why? Because obeying blindly to hundred year old traditions without ever questioning them is better, maybe? Ever heard of evolution? Oh, wait. Probably not, am I right?" Remus exploded.

He could barely resist baring his teeth at her. It was all he could do not to snarl.

He could not afford to lose control now. Not with a kid sitting beside him and none of his friends to calm him down.

Especially not in front of her. Amelia Deauclair was not one to forget or to forgive.

The way things were, Remus was not the only one struggling and trying to avoid an outburst. By the looks of it, Amelia was close to losing her temper. Her skin had regained some colors and her neck was now covered with angry red blotches that did nothing for her complexion.

"Blood transfusions are an abomination! Don't you see it defeats the whole system?" rasped Amelia, glaring at Remus. She looked mad with aggravation. "What's the whole point of marrying among purebloods and having all this hierarchy if she "the witch pointed to the girl "simply comes around and start giving her filthy blood to everyone!"

There were clanging sounds when Remus' chair was sent crashing to the ground as he stood up in a rage. "Watch it!" he practically yelled.

Somewhere in the back of his mind, the werewolf wondered how the hell the commotion hadn't attracted the attention of Madam Promfrey yet. She certainly had casted a hella strong silencing charm around Peter and her.

Amelia's fists were clenched on either side of her. "Or what? Are you going to defend her? Because she's going to need it!" There was desperation in Amelia's eyes as she said this. "What do you think will happen once they hear about this? Do you actually think they'll give her a medal?"

The mockery had the werewolf's blood boiling in his veins. The threat was pretty clear as well. If words of this came back to the Slytherins…

Remus shivered. Every inch of his body hurt in anticipation of a fight. Moony's howling was astonishing. "There someone's health in the balance. Whoever it is that needs her blood could be saved thanks to her."

Amelia's smirk was quick and wide, showing off her dentition. Remus nearly growled.

Werewolves only showed their teeth when they wanted to intimidate.

"Yes well, they're being bloody egoistical about it, isn't he? Bet she doesn't even know that child's name. Do you, kiddo?" the witch asked, turning to the small girl stuck to Remus' side.

Amelia's speech sounded so wrong. All this swearing, this familiarity, this open hostility was so far from the cold condescending attitude the boy had come to expect from her.

Nothing is more dangerous than a cornered animal. For some reason, Amelia felt like one. Whatever had set her off, she was close to her breaking point.

The werewolf extended an arm in front of the small teen and hid her partially from view. "Step back. You're taking this way too far."

Amelia's laugh was a displeasing sound. It was chilling and borderline hysterical. "Me? I'm doing her a favor. If she's going to endanger her life for someone she doesn't know, shouldn't she at least be warned of the consequences beforehand?"

Remus halted for a fraction of a second. He frowned and observed Amelia. Her face was a mask of indifference once again, but the beating of her heart, loud in the werewolf's ears, was erratic and betrayed her agitation.

Her lips was slightly trembling and the boy would have sworn her hands were shaking even though they were still curled into fists.

Was she actually concerned?

Well, this was a really twisted way of showing it.

"There's a difference between warning someone off and scaring a girl half to death."

"Like there's a difference between bravery and the kind of idiocy that leads you to death." The response had come quick, without a second thought. However, uttering that one sentence seem to take its toll on Amelia and she visibly deflated.

She stared at Remus with dead eyes. "They're gonna rip her apart Sandy."

Remus glanced at the girl that was the cause of all this commotion. The teen looked so frightened and confused that Remus had the urge to take her in his arms. He could not blame her. She probably did not even had a clue what the fuss was about. Remus doubted she had yet to be called a mudblood before now.

He'd rather have each of his limbs severed one at a time from his body than to admit it, but Amelia did have a point.

If purebloods were to know a muggleborn was donating blood, "corrupting" another wizard with her freakiness, there was no telling what they would do to her.

Amelia sighed and softened her tone. "Kid, let me give you an advice." The witch pressed her lips together and breathed through her nose a few times. "You might think this world is wonderful, but you haven't seen half of it yet. Believe me, it's cold and it's cruel. Here, it's everybody for themselves and if you wanna survive, you're going to forget about this and never talk about it again."

Remus' hands felt like ice. This was so wrong.

Apparently, he was not the only one to think so. "But…" said the first year, frowning.

Amelia smiled. It was empty and didn't reach her eyes. "It's easy, sweetheart. All you have to do is turn around and walk past these doors."

It was true. It was easy.

James, Sirius and Peter: they could have easily turned their back on him the second they learned the truth. But they hadn't.

If they had, Remus would still be a loner and he wasn't certain he would have made it to his sixteen birthday.

Sometimes, what's easy isn't what's right.

But who was he to ask an eleven year old girl to risk her life?

The boy tasted bile and the ground swayed beneath his feet.

"Sandy are you alright?

First it was the colors. The world became black and white and then his vision began to dim around the edges. As the circle of light diminished, Remus' knees failed him and his head came crashing down.

"Sandy?!"

Then, the world was no more.

The first thing Remus became aware of when he came around was the weight pressed against his right arm. The second was that he was in the infirmary. The place reeked of potions and remedies.

Maybe Sirius had decided to sleep beside him as Padfoot once again. He did that sometimes after the full moon. One of these days he was going to give Madam Pomfrey a stroke.

Git.

"Miss Darling, I told you to keep out of here. Mister Lupin needs his rest. You staring at him while he sleeps will not wake him up prematurely." Steps could be heard and Remus presumed the matron has walked away.

Ugh. Maybe not Padfoot then. No one could ever mistake him for a "miss" for sure. This was a girl going by the name of… Darling? Why did that name sounded familiar?

Wait... Since when did girls came to sit at his bedside?

"But what if he never wakes up!" quipped a high pitched voice.

Ah. The first year. The one that had volunteered to donate blood.

As soon as the thought crossed his mind, memories from what had happened that afternoon came back to Remus at once. He almost groaned.

"No worries." came Peter's squeaky voice. "He wakes up every time."

"Oh. He does that a lot? Faint, I mean?" the girl inquired.

Remus could almost see Peter's uneasy expression even with his eyes closed. "Er, yeah. You could say that." the boy trailed off.

Gee. Thanks a lot for that Wormtail.

The werewolf groaned and stretched: time to make people know he was conscious before Pete let on something they would both regret.

The blurry face of Wormtail was all he could see when he opened his eyes. He blinked to clear his vision and smiled groggily at his friend.

Man, how much pain killers had Madam Pomfrey filled him up with again?

Peter grinned back and then turned his head towards the teen on the other side of the bed. "Juliet, would you mind getting Madam Pomfrey please?"

"On it!"

Remus watched as the girl sprang up and bounced away, her brown hair flying in every direction with every step she made.

"Juliet?" Remus looked at Peter questioningly.

Wormtail eyed him weirdly. "Yeah, it's her name. Haven't you asked?"

The mousy boy rolled his eyes at Remus' sheepish expression. "My attention was elsewhere, alright." grumbled the werewolf.

"Juliet is the one that warned us of what was happening. She came up to us in complete panic and told us you've had a stroke and died." Peter chuckled. "Never seen Madam Pomfrey ran so fast in my life."

"I bet." Remus frowned. "What about Amelia?"

Peter's brows furrowed in confusion. "When we got to you, she was crouched beside you and she seemed like she was trying to re-enervate you. She was practically in tears. It was all very weird, mate."

Wormtail's eyes were drilling holes in the side of his head, but Remus remained silent. He didn't know what to tell him. Honestly, he was as nonplussed as his friend.

Finally, Remus met his gaze. "Where is she now?"

It was obvious Peter was dying to question him further but the boy did not push it. Instead he shrugged. "Don't know. She took off as soon as Madam Pomfrey said you were going to be fine."

The boys remained silent for a while, both deep into their thoughts. Then, the matron made her grand entrance and the following minutes were a whirlwind of questions, pokes, prods and diagnostic spells.

As soon as Madam Pomfrey reluctantly agreed to let Remus go for the afternoon with the promise to come back at seven o'clock sharp, the boys left the Hospital Wing and bid Juliet goodbye.

Remus watched the young girl go and struggled to swallow the lump in his throat. With all this, he hadn't ask the girl whether or not she was still planning to go through her donation.

"You alright, Moony?" asked Peter worriedly.

Remus nodded feebly. "I'll tell you in the dorms."

They went on their way. Except for the few times when he made sure Remus was doing fine, Peter kept silent. The werewolf liked this in his friend.

Wormtail had a knack at knowing when and when not to speak up and always found a way to make people feel at ease with the silence. With Peter, Remus did not feel the urge to fill in the blanks. He was free to let his mind wander as he wanted.

Since the second period had already begun, the both of them had decided to go back to the Gryffindor tower. They would take advantage of the fact that it would be empty to sit in the best couches of the room and relax.

Remus was still a little high on the potions Madam Pomfrey had given him, but he knew the pain would come back full force sooner than later. Better make the best of the few hours of respite he got.

There were on the fourth floor when it happened.

A scream of pure agony tore through the silence, ripping it to threads. It was holler filled with pain, one that scorches one's throat like hellfire. It was the cry of a wounded animal, a creature fatally injured. And it turned Remus' blood to ice.

Without a look to each other, the boys broke into a run. As they raced with time, the wails became louder and more desperate.

Remus turned the corner and skidded to a halt, barely noticing when Peter crashed into his back.

In this instant, the werewolf's heart dropped to his feet. In a trance, all he could do was stare helplessly. They were four. Four Ravenclaw girls judging by the color of their ties. But they were barely human anymore.

There are some moments in your existence when gravity stops for a second. Moments when you feel yourself free falling even with your feet on the solid ground.

Moments when colors, movements and light are all but non-existent and yet you continue to see.

Moments when your heart stops beating, but you carry on living.

The girl in the centre of the chaos was the one screeching. Eyes and mouth wide open, she was gasping for air like a fish out of water, thrashing about in one of her friends' arms and tears running down her face.

Remus could clearly see she was dead inside, yet she was very much alive. A body with no soul.

"Mary! Mary, calm down. You need to calm down. You're gonna hurt yourself. You're gonna…" The blonde girl standing in front of the hysterical teen moaned as a sob wracked her body. "Please Mary, listen to me!"

The fourth girl, a tiny thing with short black hair, stood back as she stared at the scene with unblinking eyes, looking completely horrified.

Peter was the first, surprisingly, to spring into action. He advanced towards the girl in crisis and tried to get her attention, joining the blonde who stepped back upon his arrival.

After calling her name, snapping his fingers and waving his hands in the girl's face, Wormtail tentatively reached for her shoulder. The convulsions continued, if not intensified.

Peter turned a terrified face to Remus. "We gotta do something before she gets injured, Moony."

Peter's fear acted as a stimulant and Remus shook himself. Drawing his wand, he sighed. He had endured enough panic attacks to know what was left to do now.

Pointing his wand at the girl, he swallowed and took aim. "Stupefy."

Surprised by the sudden dead weight, the witch holding the girl fell backwards, taking her friend with her.

The silence that engulfed them then was deafening. They all stood there a minute in catatonic stupor, unsure what to do.

"We better get her to the infirmary before she wakes up." mumbled Remus.

"I'll help you." offered Peter after meeting the defeated gazes of the three Ravenclaws. Raising his wand he hit the unconscious teen with a levitation charm, and soon, the girl was floating in the air like some kind of grotesque puppet.

Peter casted an uncertain glance at Remus. The werewolf nodded, encouraging him to go forward. As Wormtail started to walk in direction of the Hospital Wing once again, the girls slowly followed him, minds still reeling.

The black haired girl was to last one to start moving. She took one step at a time, robotically. It was obvious she was in shock.

Hesitating, Remus gently grabbed her by the arm. "Daphne, right?" Getting no response, the werewolf went on. "Daphne, what happened to Mary?"

Unexpectedly, he seemed to gain her attention. Haunted eyes met his gaze. "The owl. The ministry owl, it came and... We were on our free period. We didn't expect... We never thought..."

Realising she was rambling, Remus cut her off. "Daphne, the letter. Mary got a letter right? What did it say?"

He did not have to ask of course. It was evident what had happened. This wasn't the first owl coming from the ministry that had arrived at Hogwarts.

Nonetheless, Remus held his breath. His heartbeats made his lips, the tips of his fingers and his ears throb.

"The Dark Mark, they found it over her house. They're dead. They're all dead."

Now, I've done it, didn't I. You lot probably all hate Amelia at this point. Understandable enough, I guess. However, as I said before very few of my characters are entirely jerks. Or saints for that matter. Keep that in mind.

I always figured that purebloods would be against blood transfusion. It goes against their ideas. It's been seen before: some religions do ban blood donations after all.

What do you think of Remus. Seriously guys, knowing Remus I think he would have been more worried about the pain he could inflict to others than his own. No wonder he was overjoyed when Snape accepted to brew wolfsbane potion for him in Harry's third year. Never mind his arch enemy could have easily poisoned him, Lupin took hi chance. He'd rather die than accidentally hurt anyone.

Being a werewolf is worst than PMSing people. Remember that.