Chapter 112: Saturday, October 19, 2002

"Some days I am more wolf than woman, and I am still learning how to stop apologizing for my wild."

-Nikita Gill


There are content warnings included for this chapter, please scroll to the ending author's note if you'd like to read them.


Remus was thrumming with energy.

His heart beat at an escalated pace, thundering hard against his ribs. He couldn't stop moving. If standing, he paced. Back and forth, circles and zig zags into the creaky, wooden floors beneath the worn out soles of his trainers. While seated, his legs bounced or his hands fidgeted, his fingers twisted around the fabric of his jumper so tightly it nearly cut off the circulation. His mouth felt dry and his palms hot and sweaty with the excess energy. He wanted to run—to sprint around the grounds of the castle and expend some energy physically. He wanted to fight, hand to hand combat. Throw his wand to the side and lay waste to whatever piece of shit Death Eater crossed his path. To sink his fist against their faces, feel the bones of their jaw or eye socket crack beneath his knuckles.

Even worse, because now was certainly not the time or place for it, he wanted to fuck. He didn't want slow, languid, comforting love-making that so often accompanied his intimacy with Hermione. He wanted to pound into her until she screamed his name, until their throats went raw from the force of their moans. He wanted to shred that tight little turtleneck she had on, to tear the trousers off her legs and devour her completely. He wanted to swallow her gasping breath and revel in the feel of her fingernails cutting into his skin. To fist a hand into that wild fucking mane of hair and lose himself in the feel of her heat surrounding him.

It was with that image working its way through his mind that he realized Moony was snarling and snapping teeth in his head, begging to be recognized and to mate and to hunt and to damage whatever was nearest his reach. And, as the realization of Moony pacing restless circles in his mind took hold, so did another.

He had forgotten to take his Wolfsbane potion.

As the thought circled, Moony practically howled with joy.

This is not good.

For once, you're right. This isn't good. This is fucking amazing.

You idiot. We transform in an attic. With people downstairs!

We live in the middle of a forest and you've the audacity to call me the idiot? I want to run! I want to run and I want to hunt.

Yes. I am calling you an idiot. We will kill someone if we are roaming about, do you not understand that? And then, they will kill us.

God, you really are a miserable cunt. They're allowing us to turn out of cycle now! Do you think they'll lock you in prison for hurting someone? No! You'd be exalted!

I don't want to hurt someone you...you absolute bastard! That's the sort of thing we typically try to avoid at all costs. And not theythe Death Eaters, you stupid dog. They, as in the people who matter.

The only ones who matter here would not have us killed.

If we hunt other people they will! Why are we having this fucking conversation? We will not be hunting anything.

Oh come off it, you great tit. You want to run and hunt just as badly as I do.

I do not.

You can lie to yourself, Remus Lupin, but you cannot lie to me.

"Are you alright?" Hermione's voice startled him from his rather infuriating argument with Moony and Remus blinked several times.

"M'fine," he murmured, feeling the heat that had flushed his neck creep its way onto his cheeks. Thankfully, it seemed everyone else had cleared the room and avoided his embarrassing display of talking to himself like a mental patient.

She frowned at him and his eyes lingered on the pucker of her bottom lip before he shook his head, trying to get his mind in the right place. Now was not the time for this. He couldn't afford to be distracted—The Order couldn't afford for him to be distracted. Not tonight.

"Are you sure?"

He leaned down, trying to ignore the smell of her shampoo as he whispered in her ear, "I forgot...I think—no, I know—I forgot to take the Wolfsbane this week. Moony is very present and I think… I think I took it for only two days? But, I-I've been so distracted with finding the camp and er…"

As he voiced this monumental and possibly catastrophic mistake aloud, he felt his chest tighten. How could he have been so...so...stupid? He'd been diligent for months, taking it every day the week of the full moon, never missing a dose.

"It's okay," Hermione said, her voice calm and even. "Remus, look at me."

He pulled back a little, his eyes finding hers. She reached up and cupped his face, her hands warm against his too-hot skin. The feeling of her soft palms left a tingling sensation dancing on the scruff of his cheek. "I'm sorry," he breathed. "Fuck, Hermione, what are we going to do? I can't...I can't transform—well not in the attic, anyway. I mean, I have to transform. It's not like I can—what if I hurt someone? Bugger. Shit. I'm such an idiot, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

Her lips pressed into a thin line, a telltale sign she was annoyed with him but biting back what she wanted to say. He felt panic bloom beneath the frustration with himself. He couldn't stand here and just keep apologizing. He needed to figure out a solution! Maybe he could just go to the Yorkshire cabin, it was still functional and—

"It's okay."

He brought his eyes back up to met hers and saw that her face was relaxed, now. Only a tiny crease of worry between her brows. Her eyes wide and imploring.

"It's not okay, Hermione. I could hurt someone! I could—could kill someone and—"

She shook her head, still holding his face between her palms, forcing his eyes to remain on her. "It's fine, Remus. Mistakes happen. Moony won't hurt me, I'll take you out into the forest. I'll see if Pansy can keep watch while you're turned. We'll figure it out. It's going to be fine."

He swallowed and slowly nodded, closing his eyes. "Okay. It'll be fine. It'll be fine." Remus absolutely did not for a second believe that it would be fine.

She chuckled and pushed up on her toes, pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth. "We have other things to worry about right now. We still have two days to figure out what to do for the full moon, yeah? We have time."

"Right," Remus agreed, trying to push the shake in his voice beneath the surface. "Tonks first."


If asked during his time at Hogwarts, Remus would swear that flying was one of the worst ways to travel. He never understood James' affinity for it. Never had the urge to break their brooms from the Quidditch shed and go looping about the grounds at odd hours of the night, as James and Sirius had done several times over. He was perfectly content watching the Quidditch matches from the stands, walking back and forth to wherever it was he was going, with both feet planted firmly on the ground—thank you very much.

Over the course of the last week, he had become more comfortable on a broom. Flying high above the camp to observe and keep track of where the Death Eaters were coming in and out from. It was this attention to detail that had led Bill to find the weak spot in the wards, the place where they had constantly dismantled the protection charms in order to come and go as needed. Remus found he quite liked the rushing swoop in his stomach as he raced through the trees, dodging birds and branches as he found spots to hover that would keep him hidden from view. Idly, he wondered if that type of freedom is how Moony felt when he wasn't suppressed with Wolfsbane potion.

Now, as he sat balanced on one of the Weasley's old Cleansweeps, sandwiched between Harry and Ron, he understood the draw to flying. Being fifty feet above the treetops was thrilling in a way he hadn't expected it to be. Especially when considering, in his pocket, he held a boggart ready to be let loose at the given signal.

Perhaps a bit more disturbing than his new found enjoyment of dangling high in the air on a stick thinner than his forearm, was the presence of Moony crowding his mind. The beast practically vibrated with excitement for whatever carnage may come.

"How much longer, you think?" Ron asked, rolling his shoulders in what Remus assumed was an attempt to stretch the muscles in his back that probably ached the same way his own did.

"Any minute now," Harry muttered, looking every bit of at home on a broom as he did in a comfortable chair or on his own two feet.

"There," Remus pointed across the space to where he saw Charlie hovering. A black bird flapped its wings near his head while a small, red squirrel sat perched on the handle of his broom. "Charlie's in position."

"Do you see Malfoy?" Harry asked, squinting in the distance.

Remus looked around, his lips pressed in a flat line as he searched.

"Just there," Ron announced, pointing to the right of where Charlie hovered.

Between two trees, Draco sat on his sleek, black racing broom.

"Now, we just need Ginny…" Remus said.

"She's there!" Harry nodded to the left of Charlie.

"Neville, Luna and Bill are on the ground already," Ron confirmed, looking somewhere below him.

"I see Hermione and Blaise," Harry said.

"Seamus and George should be starting at any—"

Remus was cut off by the sounds of shouting as the entire camp below was covered in a blanket of darkness as Seamus and George set off the Peruvian Instant Darkness Powder.

"Now!" Harry bellowed, his arm pulling back as he launched a sphere into the blackness that pooled beneath them.

One by one, every person on their broom and every person on foot charmed the boggart filled sphere and then launched it into the darkness. The sound of the explosions were deafening. The wind that rushed past Remus as he dove downward became muffled by a distant ringing in his ears. Wet clumps of muddy earth burst in every direction, spraying his clothes and pelting them with pebbled debris. Remus' feet hit the ground and he dove, rolling over himself to dodge a stray spell cast blindly in the darkness by a Death Eater.

It was darker than any place Remus could ever remember being. All frantically shouted lumos' instantly drowned by the black veil laid by George and Seamus. For the first time in his life, Remus was deeply thankful for the added advantages his lycanthropy provided him with. He scrambled up to his feet, his eyes adjusting to the dark. Still, he could only make out the outlines of the mass of bodies swarming around him as they screamed orders and shot spells off at random.

They didn't have long. George had been adamant that the darkness would only remain long enough to get to the center of the camp, to the tent the Death Eaters kept surrounded at all hours. But, the veil would serve its purpose—confuse and disorient—long enough that The Order could gain the upper hand.

He began to run into the thick of the chaos, firing spells at the cloaked figures around him, skillfully taking down two, four, six Death Eaters as he moved further in. He listened carefully to his surroundings, taking in every single snapping twig and gasp of breath. His heart pounded hard in his chest, his adrenaline surging as he continued to weave through the underbrush, silently disarming anything in his path.

As he leapt over a log and followed the path to the centre, he could make out the main tent. Voices shouted loud around him to protect it, to not leave their post, to kill them. He could feel Moony snarl in his mind, his wolf snapping his jaws in fury.

His mission was direct.

Get to the tent. Find Charlie and Justin. Get Tonks out.

Blaise and Hermione would apparate back to the Shack when he sent up a shower of gold sparks to alert them Tonks had been located.

"Bitch!"

Remus wheeled to the left, the low, thick Russian accent pulling him from his path.

"Confringo!"

Hermione.

"I'll kill you, Mudblood!" Dolohov's livid voice roared above the sound of a tree cracking from somewhere beyond him.

"Hermione!" Remus called out, stunning a large, towering Death Eater off to his right.

The cloud of inky black was beginning to disappear. Remus could make out features now and he could see Blaise unconscious and slumped against a tree.

"Reinforcements?" Dolohov laughed, maniacally. "They can't help you."

"Fuck you!" Hermione spat.

Every second that ticked past, light began to break through. Remus caught a glimpse of red hair as Charlie ducked into the tent. He was torn. He had been given clear instructions and Hermione has more than once proven to be able to handle herself. They needed to get Tonks out. That's why they were here—a rescue mission.

But, as the darkness faded and his eyes adjusted to the wreckage spilled around him, to the boggarts shifting and taking Death Eaters to their knees in fear, he stopped in his tracks.

"Crucio!"

Hermione screamed and Remus whipped around, the sound tearing through all of his sensibilities and speaking directly to Moony. Moony, who was untethered less than 36 hours from the Full Moon. Desperately shoving to the front of his mind, demanding Remus give in and allow his more animalistic tendencies to take over.

Tonks. We're here for Tonks, he reminded himself.

Still, he looked around and spotted them less than twenty feet from where he stood. Hermione writhed on the ground, her face pulled in a silent scream as Dolohov stood above her, his wand pointed to her chest and his back to Remus.

Something deep and primal surged within Remus. He felt strong—unhinged. Remus charged forward and wrapped an arm around the man's neck. He was thicker in stature than Remus, but Remus had several inches on him. He used his height to his advantage as he dragged Dolohov backward, stumbling over a lifted tree root and landing on his arse. His grip tightened around Dolohov, his right hand grappling to cover the wrist of the man's wand arm, squeezing until Remus felt the bones crack beneath his grip. Dolohov yelled out and thrashed against Remus.

"Go!" Remus screamed at Hermione. "Get up, Hermione! Get up and GO!"

The seconds he used to yell for her were enough for Dolohov to break free of the hold from around his neck. He jerked backward, bashing the back of his skull into Remus' face and Remus felt his nose break, blood pouring freely down the front of his jumper.

Remus growled, a fearsome, guttural sound that made Dolohov go still.

"Werewolf," Dolohov hissed, his efforts to free himself from Remus' grip doubling.

Remus rolled, pinning Dolohov beneath him. He sank his hand into the thick, black hair on his head and lifted, smashing Dolohov's face back into the ground several times.

The feeling was euphoric.

The metallic tang of blood filled his mouth as his nose continued to weep. He could feel the bruising forming beneath his eyes. He registered, distantly, the sound of Hermione shouting. But, as Dolohov rolled over, still trapped beneath him and fumbled around for his dropped wand, Remus pulled a fist back and sank it against his square jaw.

Protect her. Protect her. Protect her.

Over and over, Remus pounded his knuckles into the face of the man who had caused so much of her distress. The man who continued this fucking war. The man who dared to curse Hermione, twice. Who killed Marlene. Fabian. Gideon. Terry. Dean. Lavender.

The dozens others that had been brutally murdered under his regime. The people who had been cursed, forced to turn into monsters against their will.

"Voldemort was a coward," Remus heard himself growl. "And you're no better. Hiding behind your fucking curses."

Remus stopped for a moment when he felt Dolohov's body go limp. Surprised, when the man opened his swollen eyes and plastered a sinister, blood-filled smile across his face. Remus' hair stood on end, every alarm in the logical part of his mind singing for him to get the fuck up and grab Hermione and go. Dolohov puffed out a laugh—a pathetic, whimper of a thing.

"I remember you, Werewolf," he choked out, flecks of bloody spit hitting Remus' face

Remus twisted his fist into the front of Dolohov's robes, pulling him from the ground so close to his own face that their noses nearly touched. "Good."

"Close to the moon, isn't it?" Dolohov asked, his voice—although wheezing with effort of conversation—was pleasant, as if he were asking about the weather at Sunday tea.

Remus blinked down at him, stupidly. His racing mind trying to figure out where Dolohov could possibly be going with this. Was he threatening him? Was he—

"REMUS!" Hermione screamed.

Remus' grip slackened and he felt Dolohov move beneath him. Suddenly, he was thrown backward. The wind rushed from his lungs as his back smacked hard against a tree behind them. Dolohov scrambled to his feet, limping forward, his wand held tightly in his left hand.

"I'll have your head on a pike, Werewolf," Dolohov taunted.

"Oi! You big Russian fuck!" Seamus' voice rang out and Remus watched as he raised his wand, slashing it in a complicated motion, aimed directly at Dolohov.

Before the blue stream of light could leave Seamus' wand, Dolohov rounded and sent a purple, sizzling jet at him.

"NO!" Remus roared, watching in horror, as Seamus was hit and Dolohov was suddenly gone in a swirl of black robes and the blue glow of an activated portkey.

Seamus fell to his knees, his wand slipping from his hand as his jaw dropped open. Hermione rushed toward him, shouting at Remus to get up, to move, to get away. "FIND TONKS."

Before Hermione could reach Seamus, a horrible, putrid, familiar smell worked its way through the broken bone of Remus' nose and burned into his sinuses. Hermione slowed, gagging and covering her mouth with her jumper. She was merely feet from Seamus when the realization of what the smell was hit Remus.

The same smell that had lingered in Dorcas' home, after she had been killed.

"Hermione, NO!"

Her hand stilled mid-air and half a second later, Seamus combusted.

.


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A/N: CONTENT WARNING:

This chapter contains pretty graphic displays of violence and blood. Please, take care of yourself. 3

I know, I know, you wanna cuss me out. That's okay. You can in the comments, I promise I won't be mad.

The content warning will apply to the next chapter as well, but I will still post it on the chapter as I did with this one!

xo