Chapter 84: Nil Igitur More Est Ad Not*

7 April 1980

The King's Road Inn

They'd moved on quickly. Hermione had woken early, unable to sleep, and started to repack their meager belongings as Remus left to say goodbye to the Taylors. She avoided the dossier from Dumbledore until she couldn't, and then she pulled out the pages to find their next target.

Remus found her like that when he returned, staring at a pair of moving pictures. He'd moved to her side silently, reading the minor notes she'd added in his absence. The Ministry, and therefore Dumbledore and the Order, was aware of a pair of werewolves leading a small pack a few hours outside Manchester. The information that filtered down was limited. Hermione and Remus couldn't discern the dynamics of this pack, but they knew they'd likely have less than ten members. They had a rough location, and they had a pair of names. John Harding and Redmond Murphy.

Their minds drifted as the sun settled high in the sky, something stirring in the depths of their chests. A reluctance. A guilt. A heavy weight of duty. They shared a glance and a silent conversation. Remus' eyes were set. This was war. Everyone was going to have to make sacrifices. They would have to ask that of others if they wanted a fighting chance at winning. No more allowances. No more excuses. But in the end, it would be okay. They were doing this for the greater good.

A moment later, the two disapparated away to follow the next lead.

April 1980

Somewhere Outside Manchester

Reconnaissance. That's what they'd convinced themselves they were doing, but honestly, it was a weak cover for their reluctance. Visiting the Taylors had shaken Remus' conviction in their mission. For the first time in his life, he was being forced to truly face his past and relationship with the curse. And he had no idea what he was supposed to think. Hermione, on the other hand, was feeling the effects of already knowing they would inevitably fail. With each werewolf they met, they would gain no ground. They were taking risks for something that would never pay off. The only thing to gain was information she was desperately trying to keep from Remus. They were supposed to be focused on their mission, but they dragged their heels through the days, doing the bare minimum to further their search. In the end though, Hermione and Remus didn't find the pack. The pack found them.

18 April 1980

Somewhere Outside Manchester

"Hey there, little wolf. You lost?"

Hermione spun around.

For a moment, she thought she was looking up at Remus Lupin as she'd known him. A scarred face, hardened and tired eyes. A head of shaggy hair with grey threatening the dusty blond. But as she started to see beyond the similarities, Hermione realized she now stood face to face with a werewolf she did not know.

"You new to the area?" The man crowded her toward the wall of the coffee shop. He reached out a hand to tug at a curl. "I tend to know when a new wolf blows into town."

A snarl curled at the corner of her mouth and the man held up his hands in mock surrender, a small smile tugging at his lips. "Jumpy, huh? Not gonna hurt you, little wolf. I can be a friend."

Hermione took a step, her back hitting the brick wall behind her. They were just days out from the new moon, when Pup was most quiet. She hadn't smelled the other wolf approaching. She hadn't been vigilant. Damn, where the hell was Remus? She stuck her chin up and shook her right arm, letting her wand fall into the palm of her hand. "What do you want?"

"What's your name, little wolf?"

The door to the corner shop opened, revealing Remus. The second his eyes locked on Hermione's situation, his eyes narrowed, his jaw clenched, and in the blink of an eye, Remus put himself between Hermione and the stranger. The change in the other man was just as quick. His shoulders tensed and something sparked in his eyes. He stepped back further from Hermione and turned all his focus on Remus.

From the cover of Remus' shadow, Hermione took the man in. He smelled like wet dirt and the first breath of an old cigarette. He wore a mud-scuffed denim jacket with crudely sewn patches. His ears were pierced with small golden hoops and Hermione could see a smattering of small tattoos drawn across his hands.

"Easy there, boy-o." His voice rippled with a growl. Hermione reached out to paw at Remus' arm, hoping she wouldn't have to hold him back. Remus stood tall, at his full height just inches above the man, and narrowed his eyes. The stranger didn't move any closer.

"What do you want?"

"Funny, kid. I was just about to ask your friend here the same thing." He angled his body to look at Hermione. "Think we got off on the wrong foot, huh?" He winked and turned back to Remus, holding out his hand. "Name's Red."

As he spoke, Remus' face flashed with recognition, but for a breath he just stared at the offered hand. The man before them nodded, unbothered by the rejection. The name clicked for Hermione as well. She hadn't placed him earlier, but then he looked nothing like the photo the Ministry had included in his file.

She spoke up. "Redmond Murphy?"

"Ah, the legend precedes me. Were you looking for me, little wolf?"

"Watch it," Remus growled.

Red ignored him. "So, what is it that you want?"

"You've got a pack."

He didn't answer right away, instead taking out a loose cigarette from the front pocket of his jacket. He pulled out a half rusted silver lighter, lit it and inhaled.

"You've got a pack, right?" Hermione repeated herself.

"Didn't ask what you already know." He shook his head. "I wanna know what you want. Came all this way, didn't you?"

Hermione stepped out from behind Remus, keeping her hand on him. "We heard you have a pack, that you take in strays."

He eyed them over. "Don't look stray to me."

"You'd be surprised," Remus said.

Again, Redmond stared at them. He took a drag of his cigarette, dropped it and stomped it out. "Alright."

"Alright?"

"Yeah, you can swing by the place tomorrow."

"Sorry, what?"

"You're just passing through, yeah? Need a place to crash for the month. Just the month though 'cause you don't wanna commit beyond that." He focused on Remus. "But you don't trust yourself to change on your own." He looked at Hermione. "And you're looking to see what you can learn from other wolves."

"I—" Remus blinked at him.

"Listen, kid, we've seen it all. People tend to have a pattern about them." He cocked his head. "Though we've never taken on a mini-pack like yourselves before. Fuck it. It'll be something new if nothin' else."

19 April 1980

The British Rescue Centre

Redmond met them at the road with a smile and a nod. He was barefoot and wore his shirt pushed up at the sleeves, exposing the scars like latticework across his arms. He walked them up to the house, talking to them without any need for response as Hermione and Remus took in the sight before them. The house sat nestled within the trees, multiple stories of a deep red wood. It loomed before them, but it was warm, inviting. A pair of bikes leant against a nearby stump, and posted just steps from the stairs up to the front door was a vintage sign nailed crooked to a post that read "The British Rescue Centre." Hermione and Remus shared a look. Redmond followed their gaze and chuckled.

"One of ours found it at a bootsale a few years back," he explained. "It's been the unofficial name of the home ever since."

Hermione smiled. "We call ours the Shelter."

Redmond nodded in understanding, his tired eyes softened. He led them up the stairs and pulled open the door. Hermione tried to peer around Remus to see into the house, but the doorway was soon blocked by another figure, taller than Remus and twice as wide. Broad shoulders, a mess of greying white hair, and a neatly trimmed beard. Though it had been many years since it was taken, John Harding looked very much like his picture.

"You must be Remus." A voice like gravel under a worn hiking boot. "John Harding."

"Sir." Remus shook his hand and stepped back, giving Hermione space on the landing though John kept his eyes on Remus. "This is Hermione."

It was only after Remus introduced her that John looked to Hermione. He nodded, but made no move to reach for her hand. "Glad Red didn't scare you away yesterday," he grumbled. "He comes off too strong. And he didn't clock your situation for what it was. I can only apologize for him."

"I can hear you, John."

"Good." John stepped back into the house, pulling the door open wider with him.

Hermione moved to step through, noticing John moved with her, giving her more space as she crossed the threshold. She watched his face as he kept his eyes trained on Remus. Her nerves ticked up. He knew, clearly. Shit. Remus' hand at her back pushed her past John as the other two followed inside.

"We usually have a couple of people staying at a time, four or five typically, but we can house up to ten others." Redmond shut the door behind them. "Got three at the moment. You'll meet 'em later if you'd like, but we asked 'em to give us some space today. Didn't want to bombard you two."

"Show 'em the house, Red," John grumbled, already walking away from them. "I'll be ready with lunch when you're done."

Redmond nodded and pointed down the hall. "Go on. Take a right and you'll see some stairs. We'll head on up and I'll show you the bedrooms."

"How long do people tend to stay with you?" Remus asked.

"John usually wants 'em to stay for five months. It's typically new wolves we take in, so we help 'em through the first few moons. But after that, it's up to them. We've had some stay on for years at a time. Nell—she's here with us now—she's a repeater. Been through three or four times now."

"Where do they go when they leave you?"

"Back home, usually. To try to get back to their old lives. Some go on to join larger packs. Some…" His voice trailed off for a moment as a flash of memory shadowed his face. "There are times that no matter how hard we try or they try, some wolves still find themselves lost in this world, unfortunately."

Remus nodded, holding Redmond's gaze. It was only too easy for him to imagine what that would be like.

As they continued up the stairs, the landing opened out. Several bedrooms dotted the hall, small but enough for a bed, a dresser and a bookshelf. The basic set up of each area was the same, impersonal and simple, but some, the rooms that looked lived in, were warm. They held different personalities. Different bedspreads, a few drawings, a photo or two. Some flowers or some books. A football.

"It's important for the new ones to remember they're still themselves. That's usually our first stop when a new wolf joins us, the shops. We want to make sure their space is as comfortable as possible when they start off."

Hermione moved to step into a room for a better look, but a hand grabbed at her elbow. She turned. Redmond dropped his hand just as quickly as he'd touched her and stepped back a pace.

"Better not, little wolf." He shook his head. "They know you two are visiting today, but I don't think our wolves would appreciate you scentin' up their shit."

She blushed. "Sorry."

"All good. That's why you're here. To learn what it's like to interact with other wolves, right?" Red winked at her and led them on down the hallway. It opened up to a balcony that spanned the length of the back side of the house, looking over a little creek running through the backyard and the beginnings of a small patch of trees. "We're lucky we've got this space. It's small, but warded like you wouldn't believe."

"Really?" Remus' brows shot up. "I didn't feel anything when we approached."

"Not smart enough to know the ins and outs of it myself, but John had some curse breakers set 'em all up. They're triggered by the moon, so you wouldn't be able to feel them until then."

"Curse breakers? Shit, really? How'd he swing that?"

"Ah, well now that's John's story to tell, isn't it?"

By the time they'd wandered back down to the front of the house, John was waiting for them, leaning against the wall. He nodded as they approached and then disappeared around the corner. The others followed into a small dining room set for four. John and Red sat on the opposite side of the table as Hermione and Remus. The meal was awkward, at first. John seemed to be studying them as they made small talk with Red, like he was looking for something in particular. Hermione kept one eye on Remus, hoping against hope that no one would say the wrong thing. And then the conversation died out and the sounds of silverware against plates scratched at the air.

"So, er," Hermione started, trying to control the weighted silence. "How exactly did you two get to running a pack together?"

John looked to Redmond, a smallest hint of a smirk on his face. Red swallowed his food and leaned back in his chair until two of the legs hung in the air. "Guess that means I'm goin' first." He let himself fall back down with a light thud. "Fuck, where to start, right?"

He clenched his jaw. The mischief in his face fell away and, in a moment, years of suffering aged his face. Werewolves rarely had a happy origin story.

"Was bitten almost ten years ago. Wrong place, wrong time, sort of thing." Red scratched at his arm, pulling at the skin. "Muggle drugs had just found their way into wizarding society, and well, got mixed up with the wrong crowd, didn't I? Nothin' like the shit people are doin' now, killin' and raidin' and what not, but destructive all the same. My mind, my body. No one knew what they were doin' with that stuff. Our kind of shit, potions and elixirs? Dangerous certainly, but the muggle shit?" He shook his head. "We had no idea what was in it, what we were messin' with. Then one night, I was out of my mind, fell into a bad trip. Don't even remember the bite, do I? Just a feeling of darkness gnawing at my neck and a hot fire burning through my veins. Woke up and thought I'd died. Probably did for a bit if I'm bein' honest."

Hermione exhaled. She opened her mouth to say something, but no words would come. Red caught her eye and shook his head.

"Don't get all sad on me, little wolf. Best thing that ever happened to me really." He cocked his head toward John. "Those first few moons were hell, hardest thing I've ever done, but thankfully I didn't have to go too long alone. John found me, took me in, showed me how to be human again. Saved me really. Between him and my wolf, they're the only reason I'm alive today."

"Saved you?" Remus asked, his fork forgotten in his hand. "I mean John I can understand, but your-your wolf?"

Redmond shared a knowing look with John. "You ever seen anyone struggle with addiction, kid?" Remus shook his head. "Ain't pretty, I'll tell you that. All that shit you put your body through comes back to kick you twice over. That night I was bit? I'd bet my life I'd overdosed. The darkness at my neck wasn't the wolf that bit me. No, that was Death comin' to collect." Red leaned forward, nearly crouched over the table. "But I survived. Woke up on the other side 'cause I had some new force fightin' the poison when I no longer could."

"You think your wolf did that?" Hermione found herself leaning forward, too.

"Ain't no fight or flight for us, little wolf. Just the will to survive." Redmond sat back and turned to look at Remus. "You carry a lot of guilt, don't you, kid?"

"Red," John stated, his word a warning. Remus blushed.

Redmond held up his hands in surrender. "Anyway, that's my twisted tale." He leaned back in his chair as the table fell quiet.

The silence droned, reaching a natural part in the conversation where John might have told his story, but he simply sat back in his chair, waiting for someone else to talk. No story would come from John and for the rest of the meal, there was no more werewolf talk at the table. But it was surprisingly fun. Red was funny in the way of someone who'd learned to cater to different types of humor, someone who really just wanted to get a laugh. But it was genuine, and welcome. And John was kind. Soft, actually, despite the way he first came across. He talked with Remus about fiction books and they bonded over a muggle series Hermione had never heard of. And after lunch, Red and John sent them off with leftovers and an invitation to return.

The Black Adder Inn

"Red's a bit much, isn't he?" They sat on the floor between their beds eating what they'd taken back from the Rescue Centre.

Hermione smiled. "I like him."

"Why am I not surprised?"

She rolled her eyes. "And you don't care for him because…"

"He called you little wolf all day, Pup."

"Remus," Hermione had to laugh. "You all call me Pup. You literally just did it. It's basically the same thing."

"Well, no, that-that's different," he protested, a cheeky grin sliding into place. "That's your Marauder name. Practically a title." Then his lips twitched and the grin faded. "No, I mean, wolf, you know?"

"Well, that's what I am, aren't I?"

Remus narrowed his eyes.

"Fine, fine. I get what you're trying to say." She set her plate down beside her and crossed her arms. "But you have to play nice. They don't even know us and they're welcoming us into their little pack. We could learn a lot from them."

"We're not here to learn from them. We're here to convince them to join with the Order. That's the only reason we're here."

"I remember." Hermione leaned her head back against the bedside and closed her eyes. "But we can still do both."

April 1980

The British Rescue Centre

They spent the next few days with John and Red, finally getting to meet the other three wolves staying at the Rescue Centre. There was Nell Holmes, the repeat visitor Red had mentioned. She was older, a bit barmy and kept to herself, but she was helpful and harmless. She'd tried pack life before, packs outside the Rescue Centre, but her wolf didn't do well in big groups. Plus, she was comfortable around John and Red, and she liked helping.

Harley Wallace was twelve. She'd been there just a year. She'd received her Hogwarts letter just weeks before she was bitten. Her grandfather had gone to Hogwarts with John. He'd known about his predicament, got in touch and brought Harley to meet him. She moved into the Rescue Centre two days later and started going to a local muggle school. They'd told them she had an auto-immune disease that caused her to miss a week each month. Her parents came to visit every two weeks or so, and she was able to go home for a bit at a time, too. It was tough but she was making it work.

Callum Macdonald was the final member of the little pack. Twenty-five years old and, surprisingly, a muggle relation of Mary Macdonald. He'd only recently turned and wasn't around much. John kept sending him on errands or giving him work to do away from the house. Hermione had a sneaking suspicion the forced separation had something to do with her.

In the days that followed, they learned that John and Red had seen just about everything. They learned, after a terse conversation between John and Remus, that they were big on not calling lycanthropy a curse. And, much to Remus' relief, they learned that John and Red had contact, though infrequent, with other packs. Hermione, on the other hand, couldn't have cared less about making efforts to expand their search for allies. She knew there was more to their situation, more to the wolf within she could learn from this pack.

It was over dinner one night that John finally opened up. A night not unlike their first meal at the Rescue Centre, just Remus, Hermione, Redmond and John. And as the sun fell below the horizon and the conversation slowed to a comfortable pace, John cleared his throat and looked pointedly at Remus and Hermione.

"Hell yeah, here we go." Red chuckled from the seat across from Hermione. He leaned over his plate to whisper. "Buckle up, little wolf, you're in for a ride."

Hermione's eyes widened in curiosity. The table fell silent and focus turned to John. The absense of the other pack members made sense now, likely they had all gone through this ritual of waiting to hear his story too.

"It's funny," John began, settling into his chair and into his words. "I used to feel like this, er, tale of mine was hard to understand, the times and all. But the state of the world today is more like it was back then." He looked down and ran his hand across his beard. "It was a long while ago now, way back when Grindlewald was gaining power."

Hermione and Remus both leaned forward.

"Yes," John nodded. "And I was an auror back then. I imagine the work they're doing now isn't much different from what I did back in my day. It was—" He paused. "Difficult times." John spoke slowly as if reliving the words as he said each one. Where Red had been quick to get through his own, John took his time, detailing each moment as preservation. "My partner and I were on a mission, a simple little thing really. We knew everything—thought we knew everything, the time, the place, the people. But you can't plan for it all. Something will always go wrong. Somehow they'd known we were coming, and they'd set up a trap. We'd just breached their safe house when the moon hit. We walked right into it."

John stopped talking for a moment and looked around the table. Even Red sat with rapt attention. His eyes caught on Hermione.

"It's an unfortunate reality that so few of us know the one whose bite we wear." His gaze moved on to Red. "More often than not, it's a force unseen and unknown. Still, for some, it makes it easier to accept that life-changing event, to move forward. Still carrying it, but a lighter load." He looked now at Remus. "And yet, for those few of us, we remember."

Another silence fell. A moment of mourning.

"We managed to escape, my partner and I, relatively unharmed. It wasn't until I finally made it home that night that the adrenaline dropped enough for me to notice the bite." He pulled up his sleeve to reveal the crooked mess of muscle and skin and scar that made up his forearm. "I was—" He pursed his lips and looked up at the ceiling. "Utterly destroyed. I knew, in my heart and my head, what it meant, but I was young. And I was reckless."

"You didn't tell anyone." Remus' voice came out in a whisper, in a tone full of empathy and a tinge of self-disgust. John's eyes fell back from the ceiling and he nodded.

"I didn't understand. I didn't want to accept it, the truth. I didn't want to think I would turn. But, of course, I did."

This silence was longer, heavier. Hermione blinked, waiting for what would come on the other side of it. This silence prepared something important.

"One month later, I found myself on another mission. And I turned. My partner, rightfully so, then turned on me, and she shot me with a killing curse."

This silence was deafening.

Remus and Hermione sat stunned. Remus in absolute disbelief, his mind trying to put together the living man he saw before him and the reality he knew of the killing curse. Hermione's mind reeled, untethered. She had only ever heard of one person to survive the killing curse. One person, and he wasn't a werewolf.

"Wait, wait, wait. That's—That's not possible."

"How?"

John kept his eyes on Remus, nodding his head toward Red. "You've already asked this question, Remus."

Hermione turned to Red. "The wolf?"

"The will to survive."

Remus looked between Red and John. "I don't—That doesn't make any—I—"

"It's a heightened system of protection. I mean, all of it, right?" Hermione's brain was rushing forward with her thoughts. "Heightened senses. Heightened emotions. Metabolism." She grabbed Remus' arm, pulling his eyes to her. "Legilimency. Veritaserum. The will of the wolf."

"Ask your questions, little wolf."

Hermione looked back at Red, then she turned to John. "What happened next?"

"I woke up in the custody of the DMLE. They did some tests on me, put me through the works. Hell, everything short of hitting me with that damn spell again. But, then they let me go."

"Just like that?" Remus asked.

"Just like that." John nodded. "In truth, I got lucky. I think they were more scared than anything. If they'd been thinking straight, they'd have offed me right then, or made me take a vow or-or anything else. But they let me go on my word that I wouldn't let the public know what happened to me. Not like I had or have any intentions of it getting out."

"Why not?" Hermione asked.

It was Remus who answered. "Because they hate us enough already. If people thought an avada couldn't take down a werewolf—"

"Exactly. But my silence didn't come cheap, either." John looked around the room, gesturing around him. "This house. The wards. All part of my pay off."

Hermione's brain itched. "But what else? What happened with the tests? Would it have worked outside of a full moon?" She blinked rapidly as more questions swam to mind. "What-what if you were hit twice? Or by someone stronger, someone with a darker intent?"

John smiled softly at her curiosity. "I don't know. Don't know any of these answers. All I know is one avada to the chest was enough for me for a lifetime. I've no intention to tempt fate to try to find out more."

Hermione deflated slightly. "No, right, of course not."

"That's not to say I don't know more than I did before." At his words, Hermione picked her head back up. "The wolf possesses some quite extraordinary healing capabilities."

"Really?"

"We've had kids break arms climbing trees who are healed under a moon. Under the moon, everything is in that—What did you call it? Heightened system of pro—"

"Protection."

"Protection, exactly. Everything heals faster under the moon. You see, it's not exactly the shift that causes pain and scarring and injuries. It's the shift back. The human body doesn't have the capability to sustain the wolf's full physicality."

Across from Hermione, Red caught her eye. "The wolf doesn't make us weak." His eyes passed between her and Remus. "It makes us strong."

The Black Adder Inn

"Wow, just-just wow." It was all she could say when they made it back to the inn.

"You've got to be kidding me, Hermione. You didn't actually believe all that, did you?"

"Why would he lie?" She closed the door behind them.

"Because he doesn't remember? Because he likes a good story? Because it's better than the truth? Because it works for the people in his cult?"

"Cult?"

"Open your eyes, Pup." Remus sat down to untie his boots. "They take in newly turned werewolves and brainwash them to their ways."

"Remus—"

"All that shit about the wolf within? Sounds like bullshit to me. They're crazy. And they're taking advantage of people."

"Just because they don't hate themselves as much as you do, doesn't mean they're bad people!"

Remus stopped and looked up at Hermione, a flash of shock across his face. She closed her eyes, clenching them for a moment before opening them again.

"I'm sorry." She moved to kneel beside him. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean it." She pulled Remus' boot from his hands and took them in hers, squeezing lightly.

He squeezed back. "You did. But it's okay."

Hermione fell against the bedside, keeping her weight resting on his leg as she looked up at him. "But I shouldn't have said it. I know—I know we feel differently about all of this. And as much as I wish I could make you see yourself the way I do—" She swallowed, her eyes prickling with tears. "I understand why you feel the way you do. I just—I love you so much, Remus, and it just hurts me to know there's a part of yourself that you hate."

Remus took a second before speaking, his voice low and quiet. "Who bit you, Hermione? You've never said, and I've never pushed. Not ever. Didn't you ever wonder why?" She shook her head slightly against his leg. Remus sighed. "Because I know who bit me. Because I know who's curse runs through my veins, who damned me to being a-a—I never needed to ask you. I already know."

"Know?" Hermione's blood ran cold.

"I know that you forgave them. Whoever it was, whether you knew them or not. Every time you talk about the curse, I can see it in your eyes." He closed his own. "But me? Fenrir Greyback was a monster who attacked a child who'd wandered too far from home. He-he devoured my childhood before I could even live it. He was a monster, is and always will be. And he made me into his image. He made me a monster, too."

Hermione didn't stop the tears that fell then. She let then forge tracks down her cheeks as she pulled her way up to Remus. She pulled his body into her own and hugged him as tightly as she could. And when his shoulders started to tremble, she pulled away. She tugged off his other boot and pushed and tugged at his limbs until he fell back into the bed.

"Nox." Her voice a whisper. She pulled the covers up over him, planted a kiss on his forehead and started to move away.

Remus wrapped his hand around Hermione's arm, pulling her close as his eyes painfully searched her own. But there was a comfort there as well. Somehow her presence always seemed to be able to calm him. "Ten minutes." Remus moved back on the bed, pulling Hermione into the space he left and cuddled her into him, breathing her scent in deep. "Then you can go back to your bed and have your own space."

Hermione nodded against his chest, his heartbeat a steady thrum beneath her ear. His hand moved to card through her hair, pulling softly at the tangles that hid within the curls.

"It's all just been a lot, hasn't it?" Remus whispered into the dark.

"Yeah." Hermione took a deep breath.

"But we're together."

"We're together."

The growing moon shone soft light into the room, casting abstract shadows across the walls of the room. Hermione burrowed into Remus' side, hiding from it all. He pulled her closer.

"I know we don't have mates, but—" Remus breathed out. "Sometimes I think you have part of my soul."

For a rare moment, Hermione reached out for the bond between, wanting to give all she could to comfort Remus. For a moment, her shoulder throbbed in a delicious sort of pain. By the twitch in Remus' arms, she could tell when he felt it too.

"You are not a monster, Remus. You are just a man. A wonderful, beautiful, kind, intelligent man, but just a man. And I know sometimes you forget, but I will always remind you. For as long as you need, I will remind you."

"I'll always need you, Pup."

Chapter Title Translation: *Death, Therefore, Is Nothing To Us