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Chapter One

Remus Lupin was sitting at the bar, contemplating his ale and wondering where to go next. He was still not completely recovered from his last transformation, but he had started hearing the whispers, and knew it was time to move on before suspicions became fact. Catching a glimpse of himself in the mirror over the fireplace, he noted with a sigh the ragged edges of his robes and the unnaturally sharp angles of his face, and decided with a bitter frown that it would be impossible to find a decent job anywhere. As he raised the glass to take a sip of his drink, he heard a commotion in the next room and got up to check it out, happy to have a diversion from his tiresome and unprofitable musings. He opened the door to the back room of the pub and saw a girl trying to hold off three men attacking her with Stunning Spells from several directions at once. Remus instinctively drew his wand and cried "Expelliarmus!" catching all four wands and pointing his at the largest man.

"What's going on here?" he asked, looking at each in turn. Suddenly the girl drew a sword and had one of the men on the ground, her weapon pointed at his throat as she stood over him. "Who sent you? Was it Harold? Edgar? Gwendolyn?" She pressed the weapon in, drawing blood. "Well? I'll finish off all of you in turn, if I don't get an answer."

"Just wait a minute! Who are you, and get that sword out of that man's throat or I'll Stun you where you stand." Remus was shocked at the girl's action. She looked eighteen at the most.

The girl stared up at him with pale green eyes and said, "This isn't your fight, whoever you are, so I'd appreciate it if you'd give me back my wand and let me finish my business."

"I'd appreciate some thanks from you. These three had you cornered. Now put that sword away!" She gave him a furious look but slowly put her sword back in its scabbard and simultaneously placed her foot on the man's throat, causing him to choke and gasp for air as she pressed down with her full weight. His two companions started forward, ready to attack again as they realized Remus could only cover one of them.

Remus sighed at the memory of the barely touched ale still sitting on the bar but stepped forward, dropping the men's wands and grasping the girl firmly with one arm as he Apparated well outside the town. As soon as they were firmly established on the ground, he pointed his wand at her, saying "Keep that damned weapon put away. I'm not going to hurt you, but you owe me an explanation as payment for saving your life. Those wizards may have been using Stunning spells, but it obviously wouldn't have ended there." He handed her wand back to her, keeping his pointed at her throat.

"Did I ask you to interfere? I would have had them-"

"You would have been dead. Come on, let's go somewhere less conspicuous and you can explain to me why I wasted a good ale to save your ungrateful hide."

She surveyed him head to foot, eyebrow raised, then broke into unexpected laughter. "I guess I do owe you a drink, at the very least. Let's find a pub and I'll do some explaining. It won't take too long."

Sitting in a corner of a sparsely inhabited pub, Remus took a close survey of her as she took a long sip of her wine. She wasn't pretty exactly, but she had the look of an aristocrat, with fiercely intelligent eyes over high, slanted cheekbones set off by a stubborn jaw. Her robe was finely tailored, and her thick, dark hair was done up in a sloppy coil.

"Well? Why is a girl of obviously good family and some wealth brawling in pubs? With a sword? Isn't that a bit anachronistic? And how did you end up in England, since from your accent I assume you're French?"

"I am French, but I have no parents and must work for a living. As a matter of fact, you just made my job quite a bit harder, since now I'm not sure who's upset with me."

"That's a good story. Now how about the truth."

"That's it. By the way, my name is Viviane. Yours?"

"Remus Lupin."

They shook hands, and Viviane continued, "Why did you get involved? You could have gotten killed yourself - those guys aren't people to mess with. I think they were enforcers for a rival of the wizard I'm working for. I - eh - have made life a little difficult for them lately, as well as lessened their numbers by a wizard or two."

Remus laughed, incredulous. "You're telling me you're a lieutenant for some kind of wizard mobster? You?" He was laughing so hard he nearly upset his ale. "You look like you can barely handle a complex Transfiguration Spell."

"I don't need to do complex Transfiguration Spells to be a basic thug. But I'm an expert at swordsmanship, and know enough spells, charms and curses to keep opponents busy for some time. Your turn. What are you, some kind of Gringotts employee out on a lark?"

Remus scowled. "No. I'm unemployed at the moment, and on my way to somewhere else to try and find work."

"Oh. Why don't you try the area around Liverpool? That's where I'm headed. We can't Apparate directly there; there will be too many Muggles around, and we'll have to do some walking between towns. I'll pay for your lodging if you'll come along and watch my back. Since you rescued me so precipitately, I don't know where the danger is coming from and could use another pair of eyes."

Remus studied Viviane. She was terribly impulsive and possibly one of the strangest people he'd ever met, but her offer of lodging was tempting. As long as it didn't include-

"Oh, and we're getting separate rooms, Mr. Lupin. Just in case you-"

"Please, call me Remus. And I'll take your offer. Do you have a last name, by the way?"

"Chance." She then spelled it out for him, since the French pronunciation differed from the English. "Shall we?"

They left the pub and started down the road in the mellow autumn evening, the handsome, shabbily dressed young man and well-dressed girl making an odd pair as their robes swept through the piles of leaves on the ground.

"Let me get this straight. You work for this aforementioned wizard, doing whatever job he needs you for? How on earth did you meet him?"

Viviane laughed, and the mischievous note in her voice and the sly sparkle in her eyes made Remus catch his breath as he was vividly reminded of Sirius.

"I was broke, drunk and ended up pouring out my misery to Mort as he sat at a bar. He tried to pick me up, but found I was more useful as an associate than a potential bedmate. A good swordfighter with a thorough grounding in spells is hard to find."

"Oh." Remus thought that each conversation with her was stranger than the last. "And it pays well? Why not just find a teaching job?"

"I'm not much of a teacher. And yes, it does pay very well. Here's a good spot to Apparate; the next wizard town isn't too far away."

"That sounds great to me," Remus said, tired and eager for a good night's sleep.

****

They were on the last leg of their journey to Shipley, and a light rain was falling as they walked along the road towards town, well sheltered by the Repelling Spell they had put on their cloaks. Remus was in a contemplative mood, finding the gray skies and light patter of rain on leaves soothing as he speculated upon what kind of employment he might be able to find. He occasionally glanced over at his traveling partner, who seemed overly confident, if anything, when dealing with innkeepers, barmaids and at asking for information. She was amazingly skilled at refusing to give any, however. Despite Remus' best efforts, he didn't know much more about her than he did the first day they met.

His peaceful reverie was rudely interrupted by a pair of rough-looking wizards that burst out from behind the trees lining the road and, drawing their wands, shot alternate Patrificus Curses and Stunning Spells at Viviane.

She had her wand and sword out before they had cleared their hiding place, and easily deflected their attack with a Shield Charm. Laughing gleefully, she advanced on them, maiming one in his wand arm with her sword, and smacking the other across the temple with the flat of the blade as she whirled away from the first man in a blur of robes and hair. Stunned, the man staggered sideways while the first shifted his wand to his other hand and attempted an infuriated barrage of curses and spells that kept Viviane busy parrying them. Remus stood still, amazed at the scene, until Viviane huffed, "Remus! Get out your damned wand and take care of that idiot!" Belatedly, he realized that the man she'd Stunned had recovered and was again taking aim at her. Remus drew his wand and prepared to hit the attacker with a Patrificus Curse, but the man lost heart at facing a second opponent and fled back into the woods. Seeing his partner abandon him, the other let up and Apparated, leaving Viviane and Remus alone in the road.

Blinking with shock, Remus asked Viviane, "What was that about?"

"That's the sort of thing I hired you to help out with. Be a little more prepared next time, eh?" She threw her head back and laughed, apparently exhilarated by the experience. "What a sorry pair. They didn't even present a decent challenge. At least I know now who's trying to get me. I recognize those two idiots; they work for Gwendolyn. She and Mort are engaged in a territory war over whose girls work what areas-"

"Girls? You mean prostitutes?"

"What else would I mean? They aren't fighting over shopgirls and stableboys. How tall was that ivory tower you escaped from, anyway? Come on, let's get moving and find someplace to eat because I'm starving."

Remus tilted his head and looked at her in vague disbelief, as she stood among the leaves they'd stirred up, face flushed and hair in a wild tangle, her dark green robes blending with the colors of the foliage along the road. He wondered at her lightness of heart amidst the obvious dangers she faced, but felt his own spirits lift a little as an unwilling grin spread across his face. "All right. I'll try to be a little more helpful if this happens again. You just need to give me time to adjust to life in the criminal underworld."

"Adjust quickly, will you? Next time the attackers might not be so stupid or so slow."

****

As they approached Shipley, the pair skirted the Muggle settlement and Remus followed Viviane as she scanned the area and finally walked up to a closed junk shop that looked like it was about to topple over. She placed her hand on the head of a crumbling statue of a manticle and muttered "Hermetic Alley." An archway appeared in the side of the shop, and they both walked through to the wizard section of town. "This place was a real hotbed of Death Eater activity, I've heard," Viviane explained. "So the inhabitants have set up extra precautions these days." They found a decent-looking inn whose main room was most inviting, with dark paneled walls and a huge stone fireplace surrounded by comfortable chairs. A cheerful-looking woman with blue eyes and a knot of light brown hair was presiding over the bar against one wall, and the tables were crowded with people consuming the usual pub fare.

"Hello, luvs. My, you look like you've come a ways. Do you need a room?" queried the woman behind the bar. Viviane was amused to see her glance of obvious appreciation at Remus.

"Rooms, actually. We may be here for a month or two. I'm working for Mortimer."

"Oh, you work for Mort! Well, it's wonderful to meet you, my dear. You certainly don't look like the usual type he hires. So young! And you?" she asked Remus.

To his great annoyance, Remus found himself blushing as he answered, "Er, I came here to look for work, Mrs., I mean Miss-"

"My name's Emma, luv. Let me get somebody to show you some rooms. I'll be up later to make sure they meet all of your requirements."

As they followed another witch up the steps, Viviane shot Remus a sly look and raised an eyebrow.

"Not a word, Viviane," Remus growled. "Not a single word." He decided that if Emma knocked on his door he would definitely be fast asleep and unable to answer.

****

The next day Viviane went off to track down her boss, and Remus took a survey of the town, finding some job possibilities as a curse-breaker and a Defense instructor for the locals. When he got back he found Viviane in the main room, ensconced in a chair, reading, her feet on the fender and with a mug of coffee next to her. Remus sat down and glanced at her book. "A History of 13^th Century Wizard Warfare. You go in for light reading, do you?"

"Remus! How did the job search go?" She took a sip of her drink and grimaced. "Why can't this country brew decent coffee? And the wine isn't much better."

"Try ale." He laughed at the face she made. "I found some possibilities. And you?"

She leaned back and closed her book. "I have to cover a shipment that arrives tomorrow, and make sure it gets to Liverpool, so I may be gone for a few days."

"Dare I ask?"

"No."

"Dare I ask you to be careful?"

"Only if you promise not to be tiresome about it."

Remus leaned forward to speak more quietly. "Viviane, I just don't understand. Why are you doing this, taking these risks when it's obvious that you were destined for better things? You should be at Beauxbatons, or working for the French Ministry. This-"

"I have nowhere to go in France, because I got expelled from school. I told you I have no family and I really am better off here, doing what I'm doing. Please don't ask me to explain. Now, why is a nice young man like you scrounging for menial jobs when it's obvious you're well-educated and highly trained? At Hogwarts, most likely. Hm?"

To her surprise, a look of deep sorrow crossed Remus' face, and he said, "It was, like I suspect it was for you, a combination of untoward circumstances that lead me to this. Come, shall we have dinner?"

"That's an evasion-" Viviane broke off as Remus' face closed down in a forbidding mask. "Sounds good to me - I'm famished!" she concluded.

****

Viviane left with her shipment of contraband goods, and Remus accepted work as a Defense instructor for a small group of wizards still worried about Death Eaters. The first day of class, he surveyed the half-dozen witches and wizards gathered about, and decided to just get down to business. After an hour of basic instruction in Confundus Charms, he dismissed class, and a distinguished looking wizard with dark curly hair, greyed at the temples, and sharp dark eyes came up to speak to him.

"Mr. Lupin. My name is Anthony Scipio. I'm the local Healer for Shipley, and we're thrilled to have a Hogwarts graduate to teach us the finer points of Defense. Especially one that's been through the wars."

Lupin was slightly taken aback. "How did you-"

"Oh, I do my research! I'm sorry that Hogwarts lost so many-"

"Thanks. One question, though. The war is over; why are you still so worried?"

The wizard ran a hand through his hair and said, "Shipley was hit hard by Death Eaters. We're still not sure they're entirely gone, and are afraid they may still attempt revenge on those who fought He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. Look, Mr. Lupin-"

"Remus."

"Call me Anthony. My wife, Melinda, told me to bring you home for dinner. Please, do. This town has been so overrun by thieves and con men lately, I've not had a good conversation with an educated man for some time. I can promise some good food and a decent glass of brandy afterwards."

****

Remus fell onto his bed and stared up at his ceiling, just a little tipsy and feeling happier than he'd been for some time. Anthony turned out to be a wonderful conversationalist, and after a tasty dinner prepared by his shy but pleasant wife, they sat in his study and Remus found himself talking about esoteric subjects not touched on since he graduated from Hogwarts. While discussing Anthony's residence in Italy, they discovered their mutual interest in astronomy, which had been part of the curriculum at the medical school the Healer had attended. Obviously thrilled to have found another enthusiast, his host lead him up the tower attached to his house, where Remus was invited to use a magnificent telescope. As Remus turned the settings to bring the star Sirius into view, Anthony had remarked, "You came on a perfect night for this; there's no moon." Remus gave a start and had to redo his settings, but soon found what he was looking for.

"Padfoot," he whispered to the walls of his room, and as he got up to get ready for bed he wondered if there would ever be a time when everything didn't lead back to that moment in the street, with Sirius and Peter, and a freshly shattered world.

****

Remus and Viviane fell into a routine of working for the day, then returning to compare stories over dinner. Viviane even introduced Mortimer, a tall, powerfully built man with thick gray hair and disconcertingly blue eyes, who raised his eyebrows at Remus and seemed to find him terribly amusing. "My goodness, how did you end up keeping company with this French hellion?" he asked. "A nice Englishman like yourself?"

Remus looked quizzically at Viviane, who shrugged, and then all three of them collapsed in laughter. "Ah good, you have a sense of humor. Well, you'll need it if you're going to spend time with this one." He pulled Viviane's ear playfully and walked off to talk to Emma.

"Quite a character," Remus remarked. "Powerful?"

"Very. He controls several operations in the North. He's treated me fairly and kept me busy, which is all I can ask for right now."

"Viviane-"

"Shut up, Remus. I'm going to bed. See you tomorrow evening."

****

One morning over breakfast Remus announced that he was leaving for a week.

"A week? Where are you going?"

"Never mind. Will you be here when I get back?"

"I hope so, unless Mortimer decides to send me off somewhere."

He didn't and when Remus came back, he ran into Viviane walking back from the grocery store with a can of coffee.

"Viviane!" Remus smiled at her. "You've given up and gotten a coffeepot?"

"Remus! I'm so glad you're back!" She stopped to take a closer look at him. "What happened to you? You look ill. Where on earth were you? You've lost at least 10 pounds, and you can't afford to lose any."

Lupin said with a hint of a smile, "My turn to keep some secrets. Is my room still open?"

"Yes it is! And I just got paid for a bit of extra work, so we're going to have a very large dinner this evening. Come along!"

To Remus' surprise, he let himself be carried off, but he decided he was too tired to argue with Viviane at the moment.

****

The drinks were going around, and Remus, who'd been invited by Mortimer to join the group as he walked in after work, was amused in spite of himself by their plan to scam an ex-Ministry official. Sirius would have loved this, and James would have been horrified, he thought, and the familiar pain stabbed through him. He was distracted from sorrowful thoughts by Viviane hailing him as she entered the pub, dragging up a chair to their table. Before she could sit, Mortimer reached out and pulled her into his lap. "And how are you today, my aristocratic guttersnipe?" he said affectionately as he motioned for Emma to bring her a drink.

"Just fine. Anything going on?"

"Oh, a little project concerning a ex-Ministry official, a few bits of useful information and lots of gold. There's nothing for you to do, unless-" He took her chin and turned her face about, looking at her intently. "You know, you might do. You're not a beauty, but play up that French accent and get you in a low-cut robe, loosen up the hair; yes, you'd do perfectly. You're intelligent enough to act dumb."

Her face held firmly by the chin, she glared at him out of the corner of her eye and said, "I'm a hired sword, not a hired courtesan."

"I don't need you to be a courtesan. Just a distraction. Hold him in the bar while we investigate his room, that sort of thing. It would be very easy for a smart girl like you, and you'd get a very nice bonus."

Viviane shrugged. "Sounds interesting-"

Remus interrupted, "No deal, unless I go along. This sounds simple, but we don't know who she'll be dealing with, and she has no experience in this sort of thing."

Viviane stood up. "Under no circumstances. Just how am I going to explain your presence? As my houseboy?"

"As anything. Be creative. But I'm going to go along, because I can just see you making a disaster out of this."

"Thank you for the vote of confidence, Remus-"

"Shut up, you two," barked Mortimer. "Well, Lupin, I never thought a fine and discriminating gentleman like you would care to join in our nefarious schemes." He smiled rather fiendishly. "But it might not be a bad idea to have some backup. Lurk around and if Viv mucks it up, step in and make a jealous scene, or act like an outraged brother." He eyed Lupin. "You'd better stick with outraged brother. You don't look like the jealous type."

****

Remus was about to knock on Viviane's door when he heard a shriek and then a burst of giggles emanating from the room. Oh, no. She's had Emma help her get ready, he thought and had to pause to gear himself up to meet Emma's disconcerting glances. They were flattering, but he wasn't exactly sure what it all meant. For the millionth time, Remus wondered how he'd gotten mixed up in all this, then sighed and knocked. Emma opened it and stood aside to let him in. "Our girl will have no problem attracting Godfrey Pifflebaum, Remus. Make sure you keep your eye on her."

"Will do, Emma," he replied as she brushed past with a smile and a wink and went downstairs.

"Remus, you really are being an idiot. I can do this by myself, you know," Viviane greeted him as she turned from the mirror. Remus stared at her in shock.

"Viviane, you really do look like an idiot. Where did they get that robe?" He gazed in horror at the skin-tight red gown made of cheap satin that displayed ample cleavage.

"They borrowed it from one of Mort's girls. How's the hair and makeup? I so seldom wear it these days-"

"You look like you want to be picked up in a bar. So let's go and do it."

"Shall we?" Viviane said with a grin, taking the arm Remus offered her. They immediately both broke into a fit of laughter that they had to stop and get the better of before walking downstairs.

As they entered the bar of the inn down the street from theirs, Viviane spotted the ex-official that was her target from Mort's description. She sat down next to him and ordered a gin and tonic that she knew would be mostly tonic. Nerves strumming, she almost sensed rather than saw Remus take a seat around the corner of the bar, out of sight but within hearing. She chatted up her target, time passing rather slowly as she was forced to listen to a long, drunken tale of how he'd embezzled thousands of Galleons from the Ministry and left before he could be arrested.

All was going well until Godfrey decided he wanted a more private setting for their conversation. He imperiously demanded a bottle of champagne and a private room and taking Viviane by the hand, led her off. The barmaid glanced at Remus, and handing him the bottle, pushed him towards the door. Remus entered the room to find Viviane coquettishly holding the man off as he leaned into her, recounting his younger triumphs.

Godfrey turned around and gesturing at Remus, said, "Go on, pour it, man, and get out of here." Remus poured, then slammed the door, but quietly retreated to a dark corner of the room.

The ex-official turned back to Viviane and said, "I like 'em like you - not too pretty and stuck up, but nice and with some upholstery to you. Those women that tended to join Voldemort, they were a snobby bunch, 'specially those Slytherin girls. That was no place to go to school, if you ask me, 'specially if you got stuck in Hufflepuff like me. Being a Death Eater was no fun on the fun end either, you know, but it sure was profitable, if you know what I mean-"

Suddenly Godfrey crashed to the floor in a wave of blood, and Viviane stood over him with a dagger, her face glowing but her eyes filled with such cold rage that they chilled Remus to the marrow. Remus gazed at her, stunned by her transformation and the body on the floor, and then the metallic smell of warm blood and the sight of the gaping wound in the man's chest overcame him and he had to run to the fireplace to vomit.

As he recovered, he gasped, "Viviane, what have you done! You've killed him! Are you mad?"

Viviane prodded the body with a toe. "Do you think he really went to Hogwarts?"

"What?! What kind of question is that?"

"Do you?"

"Damn it, yes, he did. He was three years ahead of me. Viviane-"

Viviane smiled slightly, and wiping some blood from her blade with her finger, licked it slowly off. "That's two for one, then. Let's go. Did you lock the door into the bar?"

"Yes!" said Remus, somewhat wildly.

She took her stunned friend by the elbow and left out the back. As they reached their inn and went upstairs, she said "Goodnight!" and went into her room, closing the door in Remus' face. Remus started to knock, but something told him it wouldn't make a difference, so he prepared to spend a sleepless night awaiting explanations.

When Viviane awoke, she was startled to find Remus sitting firmly in a chair in front of her door. "Remus! How dare you break into my room!"

Remus, arms and legs crossed, simply stared at her.

Viviane gave a stretch and a yawn and continued, "Well? Oh come on, you know I'm no angel. The man was a Death Eater. He's wanted by the Ministry for embezzlement, and as unsettled as things are now they aren't going to waste time finding out who took him off their hands. Perhaps I should apply for a reward!"

"I don't even know what to say to you. You killed that man - killed him - without provocation-"

A faint echo of last night's rage glowed in Viviane's eyes as she said, "You don't know my provocations. Trust me, I had some. You'll have trust me, because I'm not discussing them at this time."

Remus got up, and Viviane realized, too late, that he was practically beside himself with anger. She flinched a little, shocked by the intensity of his emotion as he stood over her and said in a strained voice, "You've put both of us in jeopardy by your inexcusable behavior last night. How could you involve me in this mess-"

Viviane leapt out of bed, infuriated. "How could I? Did I ask you to get involved? Did I beg you to come along? Please recall that it was you-"

"Yes. I did. I agreed to a simple plan to hold the man downstairs, not murder him. Now we've got a dead body, the Ministry most likely nosing around, and have you even thought about what Mortimer is going to do when he finds out? Viviane, he may think you're cute and indulge you when you obey orders, but when you go around murdering people you're only supposed to detain, he's not going to like it at all. It draws too much attention to him."

Viviane rolled her eyes. "I'll handle Mort."

Remus' voice softened a little as he said, "You have a lot of growing up to do. I feel awfully strange saying this to a murderer, but you have no idea what you're dealing with here. I don't know why you did this, but I simply can't take the risk of being hauled into court for murder or beaten up by an angry mobster. I've made enough here to pay off my bill, so I'll be going."

"You're leaving? Now?" Viviane sat back down, wide-eyed.

"After my class today. I packed up last night. Viviane, I can only hope the best for you, but you're taking too many risks and frankly, you scare me. If you could have seen your eyes last night-" Remus gave a shiver, then quickly kissed her on the forehead, and left.

Viviane sat on the bed, bewildered. "What just happened?" she said aloud. "Remus?"

But she didn't get an answer, and found that he had left for class. As she got dressed for her next assignment, guarding a wizard on a journey to York, she wondered whether she should try and stop him. He was nice to have around, but something of a busybody. She couldn't deal with the problem then, though, because she was already running late. We'll sort this out tonight, she thought. He'll cool down.

On her way to the house where she was to meet the wizard she would be protecting, Mortimer unexpectedly joined her.

"Come along, my dear, that little job has been cancelled." He guided her into a house, lead her into an empty room and shut the door. Eyeing her for a second and taking in her puzzled look, he then grabbed her shoulders, lifted her off her feet and slammed her so hard into the wall that it knocked the breath out of her. As she gasped for air, he snarled, "What do you think you were doing, killing that man? How dare you disobey orders and bring the Ministry down on me?" He slammed her into the wall again and let go, allowing her to fall to the floor. She landed in a crouch, looking up at him furiously and reaching for her wand.

"Oh no, none of that. Expelliarmus!" As he caught her wand, he pointed his at her and exclaimed, "Crucio!" Viviane let out a scream, and curled into a ball as Mortimer leaned over her to hiss, "I've killed people for less than this. But you're useful, intelligent and young enough to learn the lesson I'm about to teach you. Crucio!" Viviane flipped over, letting out a wail but glaring up at him through the pain. "Ah yes, you do have spirit, don't you, my dear. Damon? I need you in here." Mortimer made a gesture in Viviane's direction as a brutal-looking wizard came into the room. He gave Mortimer a surprised look as he pointed to Viviane and Mortimer nodded. The thug swung his leg back and gave Viviane a kick in the ribs, audibly breaking some, then aimed a blow at her back. Mortimer commented as he watched, "I'd rather just use the Cruciatus on you, but I can't risk damaging your mind. You're so damned stubborn, though, that I need to give you a lesson to remember. And Damon will make sure you'll remember this one every time you look in the mirror for the next week."

After a few more strategic kicks, Mortimer hauled Viviane to her feet and held her up, grasping her jaw in a carelessly tight grip. "One more, but not too hard. We don't want to damage her face permanently." Viviane gave Damon a look that made him hesitate for less than a second before his fist made contact with her cheekbone, snapping her head sideways.

Mortimer released his grip on Viviane, letting her collapse to the floor. "Well my dear, that's it for now. Don't worry about showing up for work - I'll let you have the week off. Vacation time." He laughed as he left, only turning around once to put a lengthy, parting Cruciatus Curse on her before tossing her wand at her and shutting the door.

She lay there for several hours, in too much pain to move, but finally the cold cleared her senses enough for her to retrieve her wand and drag herself to her feet. Dizzy, and aching in every part of her body, she slowly made her way back to her room, taking back streets and alleyways, shrouding her face in her cloak.

****

Remus was sorry to leave his students and beyond furious with Viviane for what she'd done. It was first civilized existence he'd enjoyed since Hogwarts. He liked teaching the Defenses that he knew, and he felt in some way that he was making up for his failure to realize that Sirius was a spy for Voldemort. And as far as he could tell, his students liked him. Emily had even made him several batches of his favorite ginger snaps over the last few weeks, and had wept a little when he announced he was leaving. Anthony, shocked, tried to question him, but he curtly refused to answer, merely saying that he'd had an urgent message, and had to go.

On the way back to the inn, he pondered once again about the murder Viviane had committed, and shook his head for the umpteenth time that day, wondering how an odd but seemingly levelheaded girl could harbor such deadly rage. It was something he simply couldn't risk hanging around to find out the answer for, no matter how pleasant his life had become.

As he walked up the steps to his room, he passed a hunched figure with a mass of tangled hair, making its way slowly up the steps while clinging to the railing. Remus was momentarily surprised, because he hadn't seen a crone in years. As he was letting himself into his room, he noticed that the crone was trying to unlock Viviane's door, and staring in disbelief, he moved towards the figure and took its arm.

Viviane let out a scream and doubled over. "Don't touch me!"

"Viviane?" Remus said, aghast, as he pulled the hair away from her face. What he saw shocked him so badly that he reeled against the wall. "Viviane?"

She ignored him and fumbled with her wand, trying to unlock the door. Finally managing it, she stumbled into the room and fell on the bed, eyes closed. "Go away, Remus. We said our goodbyes this morning, as I recall."

"Viviane? What happened? Was it Mortimer? What did they do to you?"

"Yes. He had one of his thugs work me over, and then Mort favored me with the Cruciatus Curse."

Remus' voice was hushed. "He used one of the Unforgivable Curses on you?"

Viviane peered up at him with an exasperated expression, then shut her eyes. "No, he tickled me with a feather."

She heard a chair scrape across the floor and Remus sat down next to the bed. "We should get Anthony to look at you. Your face-" He lightly touched the livid bruise on her cheek, and Viviane flinched. "Stop that. It's all superficial. Mort wants to keep me around, so this is just a lesson. I'll be fine in a week."

"Are you sure? You seem to be having trouble breathing."

"Oh, I've got some broken ribs, another injury that just needs time. I'll be fine." She heard Remus leave the room and tried not to mind that he was gone for good, but it took an effort to keep tears back. Then she heard him re-enter.

"Here. Drink this. Emma made it for you. It will let you sleep off the initial pain from your injuries."

Viviane tried to raise an eyebrow but found it hurt too much. "Made it for you, you mean. Emma has fallen for your gorgeous brown eyes and gentlemanly manner!"

"Drink up and sleep, you silly girl." Viviane took a sip and as Remus turned to leave, she said, "One last bit of advice before you go. Remus, you're a wonderful man, you really are. But you have got to lose the habit of being always right. It's an infuriating trait, in a man especially. Do yourself a favor and work on losing that."

Remus grinned at her. "Right. You can elaborate for me when you wake up. I'll be here, I promise."

Chapter Two

Remus entered Viviane's room to find her pacing around, randomly banging into the furniture and cursing under her breath. She glared at him as he walked in, saying, "Remus, will you please call off Emma? She won't let me out of here and I'm about to go crazy! I'm fine now, really."

He scrutinized her, and noticed that she was once again moving quickly, her ribs apparently healed from the recent beating. "Hm, you do look better-"

"Good. I have an idea - let's get some food and go for a walk. It's such a beautiful day, and I've been cooped up here for ages. There's a really nice spot down by the creek that I noticed when I was taking the last shipment to Ainsley." She dashed off down the steps, leaving Remus to shake his head and say to himself, "I guess we're going on a walk."

****

As they leaned back against the sloping bank of the creek, dabbling their feet in the water and squinting up at the clouds, Remus ventured a question. "You've mentioned that you have no family. Does that make you an alien or an orphan?"

Viviane laughed. "Orphan."

"May I ask what happened?"

"Oh, the usual. Voldemort had a fit over something and they were in the way. It happened to lots of us. I was away at school when it occurred, and the school wasn't too happy about having a student who might draw Voldemort's attention. So they asked me to leave."

Remus sat up, horrorstruck. "They asked you to leave?"

"Of course. They couldn't endanger the lives of everyone else just because of me. It was different later, in Britain, where Voldemort's modus operandi was well known, whereas we were working in the dark against a power that we did not understand. It didn't matter in the end anyway, because the school was shut down. I had nowhere to go, so I thought Britain as good a place as any in which to disappear. Why stick around to be fodder for Death Eaters?" Her eyebrows slanted towards her nose in a scowl as she hefted a large rock into the water.

"I can't believe they just threw you out. What school was this? Surely not Beauxbatons?"

"Beauxbatons? What a joke, no. My school no longer exists, so it is of no matter; please don't ask where. And you, did you finish Hogwarts?"

Remus fell back against the bank, staring up at the sky as he wondered where to begin and how much to tell her. "I graduated. We were all happy, all ready to begin our lives, when the war started and everything changed. James Potter and his wife, Lily were cut down by Voldemort, leaving their son Harry parentless. Peter Pettigrew was blown to bits in the middle of a street. And Sirius Black is in Azkaban for betraying all of them." Remus paused for a moment. "That's the whole sordid tale, I guess. It was my fault, really; I suspected Sirius but couldn't bring myself to really believe- everything was so chaotic and nobody knew where to turn-"

"Harry Potter? His father was your friend? Oh Remus, I am sorry; I've heard about what happened. And Sirius Bl-"

"I don't want to talk about him."

"Ah. But surely you could have stayed at Hogwarts? As a teacher? Why are you wandering the country with a Frenchwoman of bad temper and dubious reputation? I mean truly, Remus, you don't need to be here, getting mixed up in my problems. You could have a position at the Ministry, or - or anywhere."

Remus bit his lip while viciously tearing chunks off a loaf of bread and hurling them at the ducks sailing by. "Sometimes you just get fed up with everything and everybody. I want nothing to do with the Ministry, and Hogwarts…well, too much occurred for me to be anything but unhappy there." He stared down at the desiccated bread in his hands and quickly set it down, giving Viviane a penetrating stare that made her shift uncomfortably.

"And you, Miss Dubious Reputation, are not all that you seem, or rather, you're more than you seem. Just how wealthy was your family, and how well established? You know far too much about good wine, a fine set of robes, and the niceties of class distinctions, not to mention the odd talent for swordfighting, to be from the average wizard family. What do you think you're doing, working for Mortimer and engaging in various dishonorable-"

Viviane nearly fell into the creek as she jerked herself up on one elbow to glare at him. "Oh, honor!" she scoffed. "To hell with honor. To hell with family. I've seen what a fine sense of honor can do, which is exactly nothing, or worse than nothing. And in the end you're left with your fine sense of honor and the world in ruins." She huffed and settled back down, ripping blades of grass out of the bank.

"So, murdering a man is just a convenient outlet for your overabundant energy? Nothing to do with revenge, or, er, honor?"

Viviane tickled his nose with a long blade of grass. "It gives me satisfaction," she said, her voice nearly a whisper. "What is it to you if I rid the world of some vermin? It was worth every resulting blow I got from Mortimer."

Remus caught her wrist and took away the annoying blade of grass, regarding her with puzzlement. "What the hell happened to you, to freeze you at the core like this? I've seen people emotionally and physically destroyed by the war, but you are-"

"I'm what? I'm just a royally angry woman who isn't afraid to act on it and besides, you have no right to call me frozen. How much more anger can you possibly store away in that underfed body before you go mad? All right, final question. Where do you run off to every month? Got a mistress stashed somewhere?" Viviane quirked an eyebrow at him.

"No. And it's none of your business. Viviane, I want you to promise me that you won't try to follow me, or find out where I go. This is something personal, and it's important to me. Please don't argue."

Struck by Remus' solemn tone, Viviane said, "Of course, Remus. I won't pry." She got to her feet, brushing off the grass she'd torn out of the earth. "I need to go find Mort and find out if I still have a job." She gave Remus a hand to help him up, but retained it once he was upright. "What we've said today goes no further, right? Friend to friend?"

"Friend to friend," answered Remus, giving her hand a slight squeeze before letting go and turning back to the road.

****

When they got back to their lodgings, Viviane headed for the offices behind the bar to talk to Mortimer and Emma detained Remus, who was on his way upstairs, by way of pleasantries and a large glass of ale. As Viviane reached for the handle on Mortimer's door, Damon, his bodyguard, caught her arm. "I see you've recovered, Miss Chance," he said with a grin. "Let me see if Mortimer wants to talk to you."

She removed her arm from his grasp and stood aside with a slight snarl. Damon reappeared and with exaggerated courtesy ushered her into the office where Mortimer sat behind a massive desk piled high with parchment and bags of illicit potions ingredients.

"So my dear, are you back for more? I must admit, I was almost convinced that I wouldn't see you again." He appraised her critically, leaning back in his chair and folding his arms. "You're even tougher than I thought."

Viviane smiled. "It never hurts to be underestimated." She walked slowly along the front of the desk, trailing her fingers on the top, finally stopping to tap them thoughtfully against the surface. "I'm useful to you, am I, Mort?"

"Quite so, when you're not leaving a corpse behind for me to deal with. Is this the beginning of a request for a raise?"

"No. But I want more….latitude in dealing with certain people." Her fingers began to trace the inlaid pattern on the desk. "I must admit, dearest Godfrey took me by surprise; I wasn't expecting a former Ministry official to be a Death Eater as well as an embezzler-"

"You're lucky that he was what he was. The Ministry didn't ask many questions and the matter blew over without too much inconvenience and minimal amounts of Galleons on my part."

"-but if I take more care next time, I want to be able to dispose of people in my own fashion, without a Cruciatus Curse waiting for me later." She finally stared directly into his eyes, and Mortimer, hard man that he was, gave an involuntary shiver.

He got up and walked around to sit on the edge of his desk and, taking her shoulders, held her at arm's length. "Viviane, to survive in this business, you can't indulge in the luxury of personal scores. It's business, not an excuse to run around waving your sword and wiping out whomever pisses you off. Emotion has no place here and it will only get you killed in the end. Choose your fights wisely, and make sure they're about the right things." She continued to stare at him, unimpressed, until he dropped his hands from her shoulders in exasperation. "Whatever world spawned your unlikely self is destroyed; let it go, girl. I'd hate to lose you to your unfortunate yen for trouble."

"I've renounced luxury, Mortimer, and I know quite well that there's nothing left of the person I was and the world I came from. The only thing that remains is a cache of unsettled personal scores, and I'll keep those to remember myself by. But if you give me enough information beforehand on the people I will be working with, I can let you know if they'll be disappearing. Deal?"

Mortimer stood up, surveying her through narrowed eyes. "You drive a deadly bargain, Viviane Chance. I'll agree, on two conditions. If I say no to one of your assassination attempts, you will abide by my decision. Secondly, you're in charge of cleaning up any resulting mess from your murders. I'll not get mixed up in them, and if you get caught I won't know you."

Viviane shrugged. "I accept your terms. Any jobs for me?"

He rifled through some parchment on the desk, frowning as he studied a set of documents. "Not at the moment, but come back early Wednesday. I'll have a package to be delivered to a client in Liverpool. He looked back up at her with a wry smile. "I must say, if nothing else, the mess Voldmort left behind has created some very strange bedfellows. See you Wednesday, my lady."

****

Remus was still chatting with Emma when Anthony Scipio strode into the bar and took a chair next to him. "Remus, I've been looking for you. How about dinner and a look at some new books I've received? The moon is too bright for any stargazing."

"Anthony, that sounds perfect. Do you know Emma? Emma, this is Anthony Scipio, a Healer."

Looking somewhat uncomfortable, he shook her hand and declined the ale she offered him. "Look, Remus, why don't we go now? We can sit in the garden with some wine and the books-"

Viviane, returning from Mortimer's office, interrupted him as she stopped at Remus' chair and looked inquiringly at Anthony.

"Anthony, another introduction. This is Viviane-"

Anthony stood up, looking at Viviane with disdain. "I know who she is. Did you have a productive day? Commit a murder? Or was it your day for extortion?"

Embarrassed, Remus turned to look at Viviane and caught the last flicker of hurt in her eyes before she shrugged her shoulders and said, "I'll leave you and your overly scrupulous friend to your conversation. Goodnight, Remus." She walked to the other end of the bar and Remus looked back at Anthony, who was edging towards the door. "Shall we, and I'll try to explain my rudeness."

As the two men walked through Shipley to Anthony's house, he gestured at the many cheap pubs lining the street, as well as at the rows of empty buildings that were quickly falling into disrepair. "Look at this mess. It used to be a thriving center of commerce, with wand shops, bookstores, a wonderful potions ingredients trader. All gone, now. It breaks my heart, to see what's happened here. First, Death Eaters either recruited the long-established wizard families, or killed them off. Then that bastard Mortimer moved in, and ever since we've been overrun with con men, thieves, and witches and wizards like your friend, who specialize in the murder and extortion of those of us who remain. Remus, do you know what Viviane does? The damage she inflicts?"

Remus, who'd been staring at the ground as he walked, looked up at Anthony and gave him a half-smile. "I've had trouble reconciling myself to many of Viviane's actions. But believe it or not, we're a lot alike. We're both refugees from Voldemort, making do with what we were left. I can't condemn her, Anthony, I'm sorry. Can we just agree not to discuss her?"

"I suppose. But Remus, she can only involve you in serious trouble. You're so much better than that-"

"Please."

Anthony sighed. "All right. Here we are - ready for some decent wine and new books?"

"Always."

****

Viviane was trying to get her emotions back under control as Remus left with Anthony, and Emma came over to pat Viviane's hand. "My dear, Dr. Scipio dislikes all of us. We're part of what he hates happened to Shipley as the result of the war. But he had no right to take it out on you."

"Thanks Emma, but he's of no moment to me. I-" She broke off, turning so pale that Emma stretched out a hand to her, afraid she was going to faint.

"Viviane? Viv, what is it? Are your ribs still hurting-"

"No," Viviane whispered. "No, they're fine. I- I just had a dizzy fit, thanks." Emma gave her an indulgent smile. "You've tried to do too much too soon. You should listen to Remus and slow down, luv."

Viviane made sure Emma was at the other end of the bar before she slipped behind one of the wooden pillars that were scattered around the room. It's one of them, I know it. I remember that face, she thought, staring at the wizard dressed in exquisitely tailored robes of fine wool as he argued with a waiter over the quality of the ale. Visions of him with his wand raised, blasting through the ancient walls of Aquitaine, cutting down terrified professors and students with the Killing Curse erupted in Viviane's mind, the details she tried so hard to suppress on a daily basis careening across her mind's eye in a riotous parade. Viviane caught herself staring at her boots, waiting for the blood from bodies crushed by rubble to start pooling around them, then gave a start and retreated to her seat in the corner of the bar.

Picking up a Daily Prophet lying on the seat next to her, she continued to watch her target from behind its pages. He made short work of his meal, and pulled on his cloak with a bit of a flourish. Yes, just as you seemed to enjoy orchestrating death, she thought, recalling his elaborate gestures as he'd aimed his wand at his victims. Viviane smiled grimly behind her book. We'll see how he likes death, unorchestrated.

As he left the building and started down the road leading out of Shipley, Viviane shadowed him, noting that the few people he passed did not greet him. He's a stranger here. Nobody will miss him for some time, probably. He came upon the most desolate section of the road, shadowed closely by trees on both sides, but before he got too far Viviane quietly slipped alongside of him and, pressing her sword against his side, divested him of his wand while hissing a warning about keeping silent.

When they reached a small clearing, Viviane pointed her wand at the ground and lit a small fire, then turned to look at her captive.

"So, Monsieur, do you know who I am?"

"A teenage delinquent who'll be brought before the courts fairly soon, no doubt. What do you want, money? Here, take a few Galleons and let me be on my way like a good girl." He tossed some coins at her feet with a sneer and continued, "The sword's a nice touch, dear. Gives you a bit of style."

Viviane whipped her sword up and backed the man against a tree, the point pressing into his throat, her hand and her voice steady but her body shaking in anger. "You never found what you were looking for that day, did you, you and your Lord Voldemort? When you tore Aquitaine apart looking for a girl, and the secret to immortality? I cannot tell you if the secret exists, but the girl does, and she remembers you quite well, Reginald, I believe you were called?

"Merlin's beard," the man breathed, sheet-white, his hands grasping the bark of the tree. "Viviane Devereux. But how-? We thought you must be dead, accidentally killed with the rest-"

"Ah, the rest. Yes, the bodies I waded through to escape from the ruins, those you left as food for carrion at Voldemort's pleasure. I was in a hidden room, you see, but only three of us made it in there before the destruction began, and though you could not see us, I saw you, and how thoroughly you relished your actions."

As he opened his mouth to reply, Viviane, with careless grace, swept her sword across his throat and bent over him as he fell among the leaves and underbrush to make sure he was dead. Finding him so, she heaved a sigh of satisfaction and headed back to her lodging.

****

Late that evening, Remus walked back to the inn, enjoying the unusually warm November weather and trying to decide which Defense technique to start with for his next class. Anthony had expressed interest in learning some of the ways to try and detect the Imperious Curse, and the book he'd just lent to Remus cast some fascinating new light on the subject. "Time to start reading up on my specialty again," he remarked happily to a gnome that scurried out of his way in the road.

He was surprised to find Viviane still reading by the fire in the common room, but noted the faint look of unease on her face and paused. He pulled up a chair and gently took the book from her hands, saying, "I'm so sorry about the incident with Anthony. Viviane, he's angry at what's happened to Shipley. It's a long list of things, and you're only the last item-"

Viviane got up and snatched the book back from him. "And I should care because? He survived the war with his wife and his house and his profession intact. That gives him every right to look down upon me, a piece of garbage washed up from the shores of France to sully his precious town." She took a deep breath, and started again. "Remus, I'm glad you've found a friend that you can talk with, about all the subjects most of us can't begin to understand. I really am. I'm just tired, I guess. Still not quite recovered from Mort's little lesson, so I'm going to bed."

Remus smiled at her and brushed a stray lock of hair out of her face. "You must be tired, to admit that. I'm off on my usual little vacation, so I'll see you in a week or so. Until then, take care, Viviane."

****

That Wednesday, as agreed upon, Viviane reported to Mortimer to pick up the items she was to smuggle into Liverpool. "Here. This needs to be dropped off by mid-afternoon tomorrow. There isn't much happening afterwards, but be around next week because I'll need you for some security work. Got that?"

"Sure thing, Mortimer. Can you tell me what's in this? Just in case I need to hide it or something?"

"Consignment of Boomslang skin."

"Ooh. Expensive."

"Yes, they paid handsomely for it, so you'd best be careful and deliver as planned." He gave her a keen look. "Yes, despite your appearance, you're useful. Taken to this business better than I thought you would."

"Investment paid off, did it?"

"You were more like a gamble. Off you go, now."

Viviane took off through the forest to the next town, avoiding the path and striking deep into the trees to escape detection. Her destination wasn't a wizard town, so Apparating was not an option. But she was enjoying her walk, and the calming effect the isolation of the deep forest had on her, until she heard faint screams that sounded almost, but not quite, human. Taking out her wand, she quietly slipped through the trees, the screams becoming louder and more tormented, sometimes ending in a howl that seemed wrenched from whatever was making them. Are Death Eaters torturing some poor creature? Viviane thought. I'll make sure they answer for it, and silently drew her sword out of its scabbard. After several moments of tracking the direction of the sounds she found the old, boarded up shack from which the unearthly screams were issuing.

Prying loose one of the boards from a window, she peered in, and as her eyes adjusted to the darkness, Viviane saw what seemed to be a man, or almost a man, kneeling on the ground, his head bent down as his body twisted in pain, bones elongating and coarse fur starting to cover his body. She sheathed her sword and nearly walked to the front of the shack, thinking of attempting to help, but her instincts took over and shouted, Werewolf! Viviane you idiot, stay out of there. Her knees grew weak and she clung to the sill, horrified, but unable look away as his screams became more desperate while claws sprouted from what were once fingers. As the now more-creature-than-man lifted his head for a last, piercing howl while the transformation became complete, Vivane caught sight of a pair of terrified brown eyes flecked with gold and a face with sharp cheekbones just before they disappeared into the head of a wolf. Sliding away from the window, she buried her face against the rough planks of the shack and dug her fingernails into the wood as she gasped for air. Remus, no, not you, not the sane one, the learned one, the compassionate one. "Unfair. Unfair," she whispered, and beat her palms in frustration against the side of the building, thinking bitterly that this was one instance where she could do nothing to help.

She stumbled away from the shack and back to her original pathway, trying not to think about how devastating such a transformation must be to the fastidious man she knew. If he knows you know, it's the end of your friendship. You must complete this job. Get to Liverpool. Complete the transaction. This is the end of your friendship because I can't possibly hide what I've seen from him. "Damnation. What a mess. What a mess. The only person I trust is a werewolf. What now?" she whispered, and forced herself to keep walking and keep alert, despite the confusion in her mind. Should I just leave, without telling him? Spare him the ordeal of facing me? He obviously is terribly shamed, barricading himself in that shack to tear at himself. Mortimer could send me to another town, and I'd leave some money for him to get on with. There's nothing I can do for him, except be there when he becomes human again, and what would that do? Oh Remus, you could have told me.

Her debate continued through the handoff and her journey back to Shipley. Once in her room, she sat down and tried to make a decision about what to do. The bitter truth is, she thought, that I wouldn't have made it this far without him. Yet if I decide to help him now, I've pledged myself to help him out later, and it means concealment and lost time and far too many complications. That is, if he doesn't renounce our friendship altogether when he finds out I know.

Feeling trapped, she threw open the window and took some deep breaths before she realized just how cold it had become. Quickly closing it again, she leaned her forehead against the glass and thought of Remus waking alone and bloody and freezing, and what would happen should someone else discover him. His arms will be a bloody mess, and will have to be bound up to keep him from bleeding to death, probably. He must be inflicting some awful wounds on himself, with those claws. She shivered at the memory of them, and momentarily lost courage at the thought of being their target, and of the fangs she'd seen pushing through Remus' gums. Finally she threw on a cloak, put some rags, food, and another cloak in a bag and set back out for the shack, steeling herself for several days of guarding Remus from intruders, and possibly the other way around, she thought in despair.

Remus was still in his wolf stage, howling and raging and tearing at his arms as he careened into the walls, seeking a way out. Viviane took one peek at him through the loosened board but as she did, Remus sensed her there and lunged at the opening, snarling and trying to bite through. Viviane let out a screech and threw herself backwards, using her wand to refasten the board as she fell, then curled up in a ball, trying to control an onslaught of nausea and holding her ears against the howls. After she got hold of herself and settled down within sight of the shack, she wondered if she would be able to stand the noise without losing her mind.

She thought she was doing well after the first day, managing to block out the noise through reading and an Aural Charm that dissipated the worst of it, but at night, as she sat huddled over a small fire, she began to imagine that she could hear Remus' voice through the shuddering howls emanating from the shack, tortured and aware of his loss of control. Unable to take it any longer, she doused the fire and ran deeper into the woods, blindly running into branches and tearing her robes on the underbrush as she attempted to get away from the noise. At last, out of hearing and out of breath, she stopped and took out her wand. "Lumos," she whispered, and tried to breath quietly in the stillness of the woods and clear her mind of the images left from observing the transformation. Using one of her sleeves, she wiped off tears and the blood from scratches off of her face, and recoiled her hair. Squaring her shoulders and taking a deep breath, she returned to her post, whispering, "Until morning. If I can only stand it for that much longer," and walked slowly back to wait for Remus to retransform.

In the morning Viviane woke from a slight doze, sensing something was different and realized that Remus was silent. Viviane cautiously looked in again. He was back to human form, lying face down on the floor, motionless and bloodied. Viviane blasted through the locks on the door and stood with her back against it, terribly frightened even though she knew Remus was no longer dangerous. She slowly approached him and began to bind up the wounds on his arms, which were deep and jagged, some catching on former scars and re-opening them. Staunching the blood took longer than it should have, because Viviane kept flinching and even jumping backwards in fright if he moved. "He can't hurt you now," she kept whispering to herself.

After she finished with his arms, she rolled Remus onto his back and out of the blood that had pooled around his body, and managed to pull on the remains of his robe and fasten it. Taking the cloak she'd brought, she tucked it around him and subsided to a corner of the shack, hugging her knees and trying to keep down the fear. "He can't hurt you," she kept whispering.

Viviane stayed huddled in her corner of the shack, occasionally checking on Remus and his injuries and trying to get some sleep, but she found that impossible. Finally, after two days, Remus' eyelids began to flutter, and soon he blinked and tried vainly to sit up. He stared at amazement at the cloak that covered him, and then caught sight of Viviane looking apprehensively at him from her corner.

"You- you followed me. You broke your promise. I trusted you-" The pain in his raspy voice and his struggle to free himself from the robe caused Viviane to crawl to his side so she could look him in the eyes. "No, no I didn't. I heard you as I was on my way to Liverpool and found the shack. Oh Remus, I arrived just as you were- were- turning. So I've come to get you out of here and back into your room. If anyone finds out, they'll run you out of town, or even kill you."

Remus narrowed his eyes at her. "Why would you want to do that? I can see how afraid you are of me, how disgusted at the werewolf, the gross, slavering beast I become."

Viviane sat back on her heels. "I've met far more beastly humans than your werewolf seems to be, including myself on occasion. And you want me to say it. All right, I will. You saved my life. Maybe a couple of times. I owe you one. Or two." She resumed her slouch against the wall. "And you're the only person I trust, or feel I can rely on. Hell, I even know when you'll be turning into a wolf. How's that for reliability?"

"This is no joke, Viv. You may trust me, but I can't trust myself around you. Knowing you, you'll burst in at the wrong time and be hurt or killed. I can't take that chance."

"It's a little late for your tender conscience to awaken, Remus. Between the two of us, we should be able to keep your secret, and keep you safe during your transformations. As Remus began a protest, Viviane interrupted. "Stop it. I'm being selfish about this, because I've enjoyed having you as a companion. I've been lonely since I left school, and the crowd I hang with isn't the most refined bunch. You remind me of what I wanted to be, once, and the people I knew." She looked down at her hands, embarrassed.

Remus sat up with an effort, and leaned against the wall beside her. Taking her hand, he grasped it as tightly as he was able. "All right. I can't believe I'm saying this, but maybe it would be a better plan to stick together. You don't exactly remind me of the people I used to know, but I like the way you're valiantly fighting whatever strange obstacles you find in your path, as they did." He gave a short laugh. "I almost envy your singleminded determination to wrest what you can out of this damned wasteland that we exist in."

Viviane looked over at him, then looked away and tried surreptitiously to wipe off her tearstained face. Remus sighed and felt in his tattered robes, pulling out a handkerchief that had miraculously survived destruction. "Here. I'm going to chain one of these to you at some point."

"Thanks." Viviane wiped her eyes and blew her nose. "When were you bitten?"

"When I was a child. My parents tried to make do with the situation as best they could. Then I went to Hogwarts, and after a while my friends found out. I was terrified that I'd become an outcast, that they'd tell everybody, but they did so much to help - became unregistered Animagi, kept me company during my transformations and made life more bearable than I ever thought possible. More than bearable - wonderful." The muscles of his face tightened. "But they're all dead now - or as good as dead, and life has become more than unbearable at times." He closed his eyes and willed himself to continue. "With all of the fear Voldemort caused and Death Eaters still about, my condition has gotten harder to conceal and makes it more difficult to escape if someone finds out."

"I know. Hiding what you are consumes your soul. I thought it would be easy-" Viviane began, but the shock and her exhaustion from watching for three days made her finally break down. She leaned her forehead on her knees and shook with sobs. Remus carefully placed his injured arm over her shoulders. "My brave girl. You've had quite a week, haven't you?"

"Nothing like yours," gasped Viviane, trying to get herself back under control. "I don't know about you, but I'm too exhausted to make it back to the inn right now. I think we could both use some sleep."

"Agreed. Sorry about the accommodations. When you're a werewolf you take what you can get."

Viviane stretched out on the dirt floor, propping her head on the bag she'd brought and held out a hand to Remus. "Come on, you can use me as a pillow. There's some food left if you're hungry."

Remus lay down with a sigh and curled into a ball, his head on Viviane's stomach. "No, I just need rest," he murmured, barely finishing the sentence before he was asleep. Viviane spent a few moments staring at the ceiling before she, too, fell asleep and slipped into a series of nightmares that seemed to have no end.

Chapter Three

A/N: All thanks to Zsenya, Hecate, Phoenix, Frances and Yolanda, who beta'd, read, suggested and put up with all my whining about writers block. Vive La Société des Femmes Dangereuses!

Remus moved about the room, finally recovered from his transformation. As he paced about, restless from days of inactivity, he pondered the dynamics of his relationship with Viviane. Somehow, no matter how he tried, he always came back to how it began and how it had continued; mutual trust and mutual protection, force-fed by a world so out of kilter that neither could gain a secure foothold in it. And to her, my being a werewolf is just another complication in the fight for survival. He smiled cynically, remembering what a shock the truth of his condition had been to the Marauders, and what drastic means they had taken to grapple with the matter. How protected we were, how sheltered, to be able to give so much time and energy to the problem.

At that moment someone knocked at the door, and Remus, startled out of his musings, shouted, "What?" The door opened partway and Viviane poked her head into the room. "Out of bed! Great." She opened the door wider and stalked in, an annoyed frown on her face. "Anthony's been asking for you, and appears to think I murdered you for your fortune. Please disabuse him at the first opportunity."

"Will do," replied Remus with a grin. "Shall we meet for dinner later?"

"Of course. I have some extortion to perform, so I must go."

After Viviane had swept back out, Remus decided it would be wise to reassure Anthony about his safety. Throwing on his battered cloak, he made his way to the Healer's house, where Melinda greeted him at the door with a warm hug, and gazed into his face. "Remus, we've been so worried about you. Anthony has nearly worn out the floor in the observatory, pacing about and imagining horrors."

Remus smiled down at her. "That's nice to hear, Melinda, and I'm sorry I didn't send a message. But I guess I owe him a new floor, since I'm just fine. Is he around?"

"He's in the study. Go on in; he'll be thrilled to see you."

The smells of fine leather binding, beeswax, and burning cherry logs met Remus' nostrils as he walked into the study and found Anthony gazing into the fire, ignoring the book he held in his hand. He looked up as Remus entered, and tossed the book aside as he went to greet his friend. "Remus! By Merlin's beard, I began to doubt I'd see you again."

"So I heard," Remus replied. "I thought I'd come and reassure you before you went after Viviane."

"Huh. Well, take a seat and a glass of wine. You're such a man of your word, that when you said you'd be gone for a week and after eight days hadn't appeared, we all began to worry."

"Anthony, travel these days is difficult at best. It took a few extra days to get back from my usual destination."

"You're not on the road for Mort, are you? The last thing you need is to get mixed up with that rotten bastard."

Remus laughed. "I have already, but once was enough. I'll tell you about it someday, but right now I wonder if you could spare some time and effort to help me on a little research. There are some fine points about the Imperious Curse that I think may yield possibilities about how to detect it."

Anthony's dark eyes began to sparkle. "Imperious Curse? To be able to detect that would be a breakthrough indeed. Where shall we start? I'll call in Melinda; she did quite a bit of work with the Ministry, trying to sort out who was under what spell right after the wars."

As the trio gathered around the study table and began to spread out books and parchment, Remus thought, This is what I was meant to do. This should have been my life. Well, at least I've recovered something, as long as they don't discover what I really am.

Remus and the Scipios organized and started their research, then Remus, having lost track of time through his absorption in the topic, had to hurry to make it back to the inn for his dinner with Viviane. Walking into the bar, Remus spotted a group of people at one end who looked vaguely familiar. He was hesitating, uncertain whether to approach them or to keep a low profile and head for his room when one of the group, a man with scarred but still handsome features stepped forward. "Remus Lupin, is that you?"

Suddenly he remembered the man's name. "Alastor Moody. You paid several visits to Hogwarts during the war, and helped us out quite a bit-

"Ah yes, anything for Albus Dumbledore. A fine wizard, he is." Moody fell silent and stared at Remus, who got the unnerving feeling that Moody was somehow noting every detail and filing it away for reference. The Auror finally spoke again. "I remember you lost some schoolmates to Voldemort, in a particularly nasty incident. Sorry to hear that-"

"Didn't you graduate from Hogwarts as well?" Remus interrupted. "How are things going with you these days?"

"Fine, fine. Been back to the old place lately?"

Remus succeeded in controlling the wave of bitter feeling before it had time to show on his face. "Not in some time. I hear you've been quite successful as an Auror. Congratulations."

"Thanks. I'm here with Annabel, in my year at Hogwarts, and Vince, our rookie over there, who's closer to your generation. We're still mopping up cells of Death Eaters. It's amazing how soon people forget what it was like under Voldemort. Constant vigilance! The fools don't realized how much danger is still out there."

"Hey Al! Don't just stand there, bring Lupin over so we can reminisce about how badly the Gryffindor team beat the Slyths back in his day." Vince was grinning and waving at Remus from the bar.

"The danger, oh, yeah," Remus responded to Moody's comment, feeling unaccountably nervous. "Well, I'm off. Say hello to Vince and Annabel, and I hope to see you around." Exactly what I don't need, Remus thought. A bunch of arrogant gits hanging about to remind me of Hogwarts. Well, they're probably too important to stick around this backwater for long.

Just as he reached his door and paused to undo the Guard Spells, he heard Viviane's voice greeting Emma. But instead of bounding upstairs with her usual energy, singing one of her French war songs loudly and off-key, which was how she usually announced the end of her workday, her footsteps dragged and he heard her sigh as she reached the top of the stairs. When she finally appeared at the end of the hallway, Remus raised his eyebrows at her drooping shoulders and tired eyes.

"Oh Remus, what a day I've had," she said, dramatically slouching against the wall. "All this rain made the roads nearly impassable, and I'm soaked through. Not to mention that I Apparated in the middle of a Muggle rugby game and had to cast about twenty Obliviate Spells."

Remus walked over, pulled her upright, and tugged off her cloak. "When will you remember to use Repelling Spells, Viv? One day you're going to catch pneumonia, and do you really want Anthony to be the one prodding your lungs?" Remus pulled his wand out of his belt. "Exaresco!" Viviane's robes and cloak dried instantly.

"You're such a fusser, Remus. I'll be fine."

"Nonetheless, let's have Emma bring up some dinner to my room this evening. It'll be warmer than downstairs, and I don't feel like facing a crowd right now."

"Agreed on both counts. Let me change into something less mud-covered and I'll meet you in your room." Remus began to laugh. "We are still standing in the hallway, aren't we! Viv, the unconventional messes you get into are so diverting that they're undermining my manners."

Emma brought up some of her marvelous lamb stew, loaded with garlic and laced with port. The two friends ate before Remus' fire, basking in both the warmth of the small room and the absence of the public clamor downstairs. Afterwards, gazing into the flames, comfortably silent together, they listened to the storm that had begun to rage outside.

"I've been thinking, Remus. About your friends, and how they became Animagi in order to keep you company during your transformations. That's very advanced magic for a bunch of students. They must have loved you very much."

She saw the now-familiar tightening of his face. "Don't. Please, tell me about it. I'm missing my own comrades tonight." She got up to look outside at the freezing rain pelting the window as the wind howled through the trees and blasted past the building. "I used to love nights like this. In our bedroom at school we'd feel so secure that we had to make up stories to scare ourselves. We thought nothing could really touch us."

Remus pulled himself out of his chair to join her by the window. "And now we live those stories," he said wearily. "All right, sit down." He huddled in one corner of the broad window seat and leaned his head against the glass, his sharp profile framed by shaggy brown hair, knees drawn up to his chest.

Viviane curled up in the opposite corner of the seat, and waited for him to begin.

"I've told you that when I started at Hogwarts, I fully expected to be an outcast. I knew I'd have to disappear for one week out of four, and that the whispers would start as my schoolmates began notice my frequent illnesses and the wounds I gave myself. Dumbledore took extraordinary measures for me - secret tunnels were built, a building was outfitted with what I needed during my transformations, but there was no hiding that I was…different. Sirius, of course, was the one who found out. He managed to follow when Madame Pomfrey took me one evening to the place set aside for my transformations, and jumped out to scare me after she left.

"It should have been the most humiliating experience of my life. One of my best friends was standing there laughing, thinking that he'd played a magnificent joke. Sirius had no idea, of course, and wouldn't leave. He just kept making up more and more wildly unlikely reasons why I was there. I tried to lie. I said I had an unusual family-related illness. I was being tutored secretly. But, being Sirius, he wouldn't listen. I even tried to push him out, but finally I had to tell him the truth. I was on the verge of my transformation, and I couldn't let myself bite him.

"I thought it was over; my friendships, my education, everything. But Sirius, he…he didn't look at me with fear or disgust. Instead, I saw admiration in his eyes, and just a little bit of…of envy. "You transform into a wolf? What I wouldn't give to be able to become something else for a little while." I can still hear him say that; he was desperate to break any boundary he could find." Remus trailed a finger down the middle of a diamond-shaped pane. "He always saw the possibilities in any situation. And after the full moon passed, he gave me the courage to tell James and Peter."

"It was James who dreamed up the Animagi. He was brilliant at Transfiguration, and he managed to find the processes they needed to manage the transformations. Poor Peter needed lots of help, but they all managed it in the end. James was a stag - Prongs. Peter became a rat; we called him Wormtail. Sirius - Padfoot - was a large, scruffy black dog.

"Nobody knew what we'd done, not even Dumbledore. Most of the school associated James and Sirius with dangerous pranks and wild adventures and they certainly racked up an impressive number of them, even in human form. People assumed I held them back from even more outrageous stunts, but really it was James who tried to keep us in line. As a wolf, I'd follow Padfoot anywhere. Sirius was so reckless, so sure of himself. He would find open fields without the scent of a human for miles, and fast-moving streams that felt so good as the water passed through our fur. James would have been horrified had he known how many nights Padfoot and the wolf roamed as fast and as far as we could. And I could have bitten someone on many of those nights. But I didn't care." Remus paused. He said more fiercely, "I don't care. I have a life to live just as other humans do. Surely there's more to it than this wretched existence the world condemns me to lead."

He glared at Viviane. "Do you think I deserve other than a shack and locks and a dirt floor? Do you?"

Viviane leaned forward to sweep the hair out of his eyes. "You deserve far more than the world is willing to give," she said. "I only wish-"

"Don't, Viv," he said, batting her arm away. "We're dealing with realities here."

Viviane stared at him with a ruthless glint in her eye. "Realities? Then I must amend your last statements. You do care, very much, about biting anyone, and you know exactly how I feel about the manner in which the world treats you."

Remus sighed in exasperation, then paused to wrap his robes more tightly around his knees. "How the wind rages. Your turn. Tell me a story. No- no protest. You're in Britain now and you have to play by our rules. Turn and turn about is fair play."

"Oh, all right. Such the sporting gentleman, you are!" She shifted her gaze out the window. "My two best school friends were Amelie and Pierre. We were incorrigible, stealing Floo powder from Professors' rooms so we could visit each other when we weren't allowed and do whatever was expressly forbidden. We'd sneak outside to raid the orchards and build bonfires out of sight of the chateau." Viviane chuckled. "Once, we tried to make a potion over the bonfire and it set off a massive explosion. It was heard in the chateau and caused quite a panic. Luckily, we managed to dive behind a hedge and didn't get badly hurt. We thought we'd gotten away with it by sneaking back in during the confusion, until we realized that the fire had singed off our eyebrows. Then there was the time we stole horses out of the paddock to go riding and ended up miles away, hopelessly lost. Our Headmaster had to rescue us from a most disreputable pub. I began early, you see! Oh, we weren't allowed off the grounds for months over that one."

"And?"

Viviane shrugged. "And what? They're gone. We're here." Remus' mouth twitched and he leaned back against the glass. They fell silent again.

****

The next afternoon, just as Remus had gotten back from teaching his Defense class and was helping Emma move some heavy wine casks behind the bar, Viviane staggered in, pale, one side of her robes drenched in blood and spitting a string of curses so anatomically graphic that even Emma began to blush.

"Viv! By all the gods, what happened to you?" Remus quickly stepped from behind the bar to meet and steady her swaying form, to start to pull back her cloak.

"Ambush. I had to escort one of Mort's VIPs to Liverpool today, and we got attacked about a mile away. One of them actually got my sword away from me and cut me with it; I'm so bloody embarrassed," she nearly screamed in fury. "Ssssss-" she concluded as Remus began to pull away fabric caked to her side by dried blood.

"Remus, hold on, you don't want to do that," Emma said, shooing him away. "Viviane luv, come back into Mort's office and let me take a look. You're having a horrid week, aren't you?" They helped her into the next room and Emma began to explore the wound, which was a deep gash running vertically down her side. "Oh Viviane, how did you make it back? You must have lost so much blood," Emma murmured as she worked over the cut. "I can clean away the blood and close the wound, but you're going to have an awful scar. Perhaps if we call Dr. Scipio-"

Viviane made a rude noise. "No thank you. I have no wish to be embarrassed by his refusal. Do your best, Emma, and it will be more than enough for me. I did manage to use a Staunching Spell once the attack was over."

Remus began to protest but Viviane cut him off. "No, Remus, no arguments. Now get out of here so Emma can take care of this."

With a resigned sigh, Remus laid a hand on Emma's shoulder. "Take care of our girl, Emma. Let me get some disinfectant to clean it - I'll be back fairly soon."

By the time he returned, Viviane was both comfortable and ready for dinner, so she and Remus took a table near the fire and ordered their food. Remus noticed Alastor and his companions at a table across the room. "See them?" he said to Viv. "They're Aurors. They went to Hogwarts; the one with the strong features and dark hair is supposedly the best Auror the Ministry has. Alastor Moody, his name is, and he's, er, very intense, and very dedicated to his job."

Viviane surveyed them with interest. "Oh. Impressive. You have to have an advanced set of Defense skills to get that job, I hear."

"Very advanced-"

A terrified man burst into the bar, shouting, "Giant! Giant! There's a giant attacking the village. He's already destroyed three houses-"

As a group, the Aurors rose and hastened out to follow the man. Viviane rose too, turning back to Remus. "Don't you want to see these guys at work?" Remus looked nonplussed. "No. Not interested. I think I'll sit and finish my dinner while it's still warm."

"All right then, I'll bore you with the story when I get back."

Viviane hurried out of the inn and down the street, one hand settling her swordbelt more firmly on her hips. Oh dear, it's colder than I thought. I should have stopped for my cloak on the way out.

As she approached the area where the giant was ripping roofs off of homes and rummaging through the contents therein, she saw the four Aurors standing in a huddle, obviously trying to come up with a strategy to subdue the creature. She watched with interest as he hove into view, taller than any living thing she'd yet seen. As she gazed up, awestruck, she suddenly realized that the creature was heading straight for another cluster of homes, and the Aurors were still in an intense discussion.

"Excuse me, but aren't you going to do anything about that?" She pointed at the giant. "He's about to take out more homes."

The short but powerfully-built man that Remus pointed out as Alastor glared up at her. "Who do you think you are, young lady? Killing a giant takes strategy. Now get out of here and let us do our job." Viviane, utterly insulted, turned on her heel and worked her way around to the back of the giant, who was just starting to take off the roof of the first house. Viviane pulled her wand out of her swordbelt and blasted the giant with a Stunning Spell. It barely slowed him down, but he did turn away from the houses to advance on her.

Grinning down at her, he said, "A feisty one, are you? Not like our master strategists over there?" He reached down to grab her, but she evaded his fist, turning him away from the buildings and towards a clearing. Just a few more steps, she thought, and backed up, wand still pointed at the giant. As he laughed and leaned forward to take another swipe at her, she stepped forward and put all her focus into a Stunning Spell aimed directly on his arm, while with the other pulled out her sword and thrust twice, once at his heart and then near his stomach. Her aim proved true, and the giant took one staggering step before toppling forward, causing Viviane to back up so quickly she tripped on her robe and rolled head over heels to land in the dust at the Aurors' feet.

Amidst total silence, one of the men grabbed her elbow and hauled her to her feet, giving her a gentle shake and peering intently into her face. "Where did you learn that? Last I heard, swordfighting skills weren't part of any school repertoire that I've heard of. You can't be more than eighteen or nineteen years old; it must have taken you years of practice to-"

Viviane, still a little dazed by her tumble, said, "Yes, it has taken me years to learn. I started young." She smiled at him uncertainly and held out her hand. "Viviane Chance."

He grinned at her and said, "Ezekiel Forrester, but call me Zeke. This is Alastor Moody, Annabel Rosemont, and Vincent Charleton." He turned to Alastor. "I guess she had a point back there, hey, Moody?" Moody glared at Viviane. "She got lucky. If that giant had fallen backwards, he'd have taken out all those houses she professed such interest in protecting."

"Come off it, Al. Hey, Viviane, how about a post-giant drink?"

"Sure. Just let me get my sword." It was lying near the fallen giant, and the silent townspeople gave her a wide berth as she went to pick it up. As they headed back to the inn, Zeke asked Viviane, "So how do you plan to get rid of the, er, remains?"

At Viviane's horrorstruck expression and gasped, "What?" all four doubled over in laughter. "The…the town takes care of it, actually," Zeke gasped. Viviane stood there, irritated. "Enough of the Auror jokes. Really," she huffed, and started off down the road, leaving them to catch up with her once they recovered from their laughter.

Zeke commented, "Where did you learn tactics? The same place you acquired your sword arm?"

Viviane smiled rather enigmatically. "The same."

Remus was startled to see Viviane return in the company of the Aurors, dusty, disheveled and laughing. "Hey Remus," Vince exclaimed, "great to see you again. You've got some traveling companion. I haven't seen a giant taken out that neatly in…well, ever!" He sprawled in a chair at Remus' table.

Remus looked up at Viviane resignedly. "Don't tell me you got involved in this."

Zeke grinned. "She sure did. A couple of Stunning Spells and spot-on work with her sword made quick work of that giant." He gestured to a passing waiter. "Round of ales, please."

"Ugh. Wine for me, thanks," interposed Viviane.

"You haven't overcome your French prejudices yet?" interrupted Moody.

"Remus, was he always this surly?" Viviane asked.

Annabel leaned forward. "Yes," she said with emphasis. "And all this work with Death Eaters hasn't improved his disposition any." She playfully poked Moody in the ribs, who smiled at her reluctantly and nearly blushed. Zeke laughed and raised his just-arrived tankard to Moody. "He's a tough talker, Al is. Cries at homeless kittens in private, though." Moody snarled back, "Oh, this from the man who wants to pardon every pretty Death Eater he meets."

"Only the nice ones. Viviane, do you make a living with that sword of yours?"

"You might say," Viviane replied, and nonchalantly sipped her wine.

****

The next evening Viviane was sitting at the bar, going over some of Mort's accounts when Moody wandered over and took a seat next to her. He leaned back to get a better view of her profile but said nothing for several minutes, waiting for her reaction to his scrutiny. She continued to work with the papers in front of her, refusing to acknowledge him, so he finally spoke. "I've been doing some checking. You're not the most upstanding citizen around here."

Viviane gave up trying to ignore him. "No. But I don't like Death Eaters, if that's what you're asking."

"Did I say anything about Death Eaters? Just wondering what kind of trouble you've got planned for the future." He leaned towards her, his dark eyes glittering. "Don't get in our way, Chance. Just don't." He slid off the barstool and walked back to his companions, leaving Viviane to track him with a smoldering glare.

She'd just gotten back to her rows of figures when the sounds of an argument erupted from the end of the bar where the Aurors were gathered.

"Yeah, show up now, you useless bunch of Ministry hacks. We don't need you now; you're too late. Just look at our town - destroyed - where were you two years ago when the Death Eaters took our property…killed our citizens….left Shipley in ruins?" The drunken man took out his wand, and was copied by his companions who had been nodding in agreement during the man's tirade.

Viviane looked up to find that Remus had wandered back from the library. "What's going on?" He spoke directly into Viviane's ear to be heard above the noise. "I see Moody and company found some trouble."

"Yeah, but Zeke looks like he's talked them down-"

Just then, one of the men at the back of the group shot an Engorgio Curse that hit Zeke directly on the nose, causing it to swell so much that the Auror could not hold up his head. With an infuriated look, Moody lobbed back a Stupefy Spell at Zeke's attacker, and in seconds the bar had degenerated into a melee of witches, wizards and assorted nasty spells and curses careening through the air accompanied by goblets, tankards and articles of dinnerware.

"Get down!" Remus grabbed Viviane and pulled her under a table, where they took shelter to observe the scene. "Viviane!" Remus exclaimed, "What do you think you're doing?"

"Joining the fun! Come on," she replied as she crawled through overturned benches and trestles, avoiding the increasing amount of broken glass on the floor, and the flying pewter. Safely ensconced behind a table, she took out her wand and gleefully began burning holes in Moody's boots, then hit him squarely on his rear with a Numbing Spell. "That'll last him for days," she said with immense satisfaction. "Too bad he won't turn around so I can zap him in the front, too, although Annabel wouldn't thank me for that one."

"Viviane!" Remus said again, aghast, but the next moment he grinned to himself and managed to hit Mort with a Jelly-Legs Jinx as the smuggler entered the bar to see what was going on. One for Viv, he thought, recalling the beating Mort had given her. Reaching up to appropriate an untouched glass of whiskey sitting on a table, he took a sip and sat back, enjoying the sights. Zeke, having fixed his nose, was working on his eyebrows that were wriggling out of control, while Moody was doubled over with helpless laughter from a Rictosempra and Annabel staggered around the room, vainly trying to get rid of the effects of an especially strong Tarantella Curse.

Remus had finished his second glass of whiskey and was looking around for a third when Viviane flopped down beside him, holding a pristine gin and tonic she had found somewhere in the melee. "You'd think a bunch of Aurors could have disposed of this crowd fairly easily," she remarked. "Really, what sort of Defense teachers did you have at Hogwarts?"

"Viv, they're far outnumbered and are probably used to complex operations, not barroom brawls."

"That's good to know, Remus." She gave him such a mischievously sly look that he started to laugh and found he couldn't stop.

"You're tipsy!" Viviane exclaimed. "It's about time, too," she added, joining in his laughter. They continued to enjoy themselves until much later, when, drunk and giggling helplessly, they staggered up to their rooms.

****

The four Aurors sat around a table, deep in discussion. As Viviane walked towards them on her way to Mort's office, she prepared to greet Zeke, but a nasty look from Alastor Moody made her change her mind and walk directly towards the door. She was stopped by rising voices from the table, and when Zeke called out to her, she turned back to greet them.

"Zeke. Annabel, Vince. How goes it?"

"Viv." Zeke pulled a chair from another table up to theirs and invited Viviane to sit down. "We've got a situation, and you may be able to help us. Want to hear more? It involves bringing a Death Eater to justice, so I thought-"

"Zeke thinks you could be persuaded to help us. I personally think it would be a disaster to get you involved," interjected Moody. "Just what we need, a career criminal on the team."

Viviane sat down and casually leaned back in the chair. "Death Eater, eh? And exactly what do you want me to do?"

"He's in hiding. We know where, but he's too well guarded so we need to get him here. Apparently, he can't resist a good deal when it comes to certain illegal potions ingredients, which is where you come in. Do you think you can make him an offer he can't refuse through Mort's connections and lure him to Shipley?"

Before she could answer, Emma stopped by with a round of ale, and set a full wineglass down in front of Viviane. "Saw you join these mad creatures, Viv. Be careful, especially around this one - oh!" Zeke pulled her into his lap and gave her a resounding kiss on the neck. "My beautiful Emma, with eyes that remind me of Lough Shellin. When will you agree to be mine, my love?"

"When you start acting like a sane man, Ezekiel. Now I have to get back to my inventory - no starting any fights, or you'll be righting the furniture and fixing the glassware, hear?"

Zeke tilted his head backward to grin up at her. "Promise!"

"To get back to this bad idea, Zeke - surely we can think of something that doesn't involve her?" Moody gestured at Viviane.

"Alastor!" Annabel looked over at him reprovingly. "I don't see a problem. Viv, do you think it would work? And would Mort agree to use his connections to make it look real?"

Viviane sat back and scanned their faces. "And I should do this because? I'm a busy witch, Zeke."

"I thought you might like to see how we operate. Besides, have you ever seen a trial? Seen a Dementor give a Death Eater his or her just punishment? You might want a taste of how we deal with these folk, if only as an academic exercise." His voice hardened and he leaned towards her, his genial manner turned menacing. "In contrast to your own rather dubious and highly unlawful methods."

"Zeke, if that's a threat, you're a fool to have made it. And if you want to use Mort's influence, be prepared to pay dearly. He doesn't want the reputation of an Auror's blind. But I'll ask him, and I'll think about it. As I've said, I'm busy witch, and don't have time to do your job as well as mine. But it does sound interesting."

As she left the room, Moody followed her out the door and caught her arm.

"Interesting, nothing. If you agree to the plan you'll stick to it, and not mete out your vigilante justice before we have a chance to try this man. We have no reason to trust you, and I can't imagine why Zeke thinks he can."

"Upset that you can't handle this yourself, Moody? You're only getting me more intrigued by this plan of Zeke's. I'll be seeing you soon, Monsieur Auror, hopefully with your man in custody."

Moody growled at her, but let her go and returned to his friends at the table.

***

"August Somerville, August Somerville," Viviane muttered as she paced, going over the spurious transaction in her head. "Boomslang skin, ground manticle liver, powdered scorpion eyes. Got it. I can't believe Mort agreed to this; I wonder what sort of bargain he made with Zeke. Or perhaps I don't want to know." She turned to the door of Mort's office as it opened to admit a nondescript wizard of middle age and a sly countenance. He stopped short when he saw her, then recovered and held out his hand. "I'm sorry, you aren't what I was expecting. Not used to dealing with pretty young witches in this line of work. Do you have the ingredients?"

"Yes of course," Viviane replied, shaking his hand and gesturing towards a chair. "Welcome to Shipley; I hope you didn't have any trouble getting here."

"None at all. Mortimer has quite the reputation, so I was glad to hear from you. Knew it was safe, unlike the hacks that are selling around London. You never know what you're getting, or who might be behind the sale."

"Indeed," said Viviane, and her malicious smile and glittering eyes made the man sit up in his chair, but he had time to do no more before the Aurors burst in, wands pointed at the man.

"You damned bitch," August spat at Viviane after surveying his four captors with comprehension dawning in his eyes. "Who are you, to sell me to a passel of Aurors? How much did you get for this, you wretched-"

Despite the wands pointed at him, he lunged for Viviane, to be stopped by a Stunning Spell from Zeke's wand and by Moody, who grunted "Expelliarmus!" and offhandedly caught Somerville's wand as it zoomed towards him. Zeke looked up at her.

"You OK?"

She nodded and turned the Death Eater over with one toe, scrutinizing his face. "I don't know this one."

Zeke stared down at the man, a rare, grim expression on his normally cheerful face. "He's a spineless coward. He planned and ordered the murder of scores of Muggles, but never had the guts to do the dirty work. He stayed in the background and well hidden, which is why we haven't gotten him sooner." The Auror turned to Viviane and placed a hand on her shoulder. "Thank you, my dear. You've been invaluable."

"My pleasure, Zeke, but I must beg off attending the trial next week; I'm far too busy and I'm quite sure Mort wouldn't appreciate one of his thugs giving evidence at a Ministry, eh, function."

Zeke grinned at her. "Understood."

***

Viviane slipped into the back row of the court, well shrouded in her cloak. There would probably be no one there to recognize her, but she wasn't going to risk exposure to any high-ranking Ministry official who happened to be present. Glancing around, she thought she'd never seen such a dismal place as this circular room looking down on a chair draped in chains. She gave a start as guards dragged the wretched prisoner in and forced him into the heavy, wooden seat. Viviane shuddered as the chains began wrapping themselves around the man, the dull thud of iron biting into flesh and material echoing in the room. Unable to bear the thought of being bound so, she looked away.

The trial began, and it was difficult to listen to the recital of murders ordered, families destroyed and possessions plundered. Viviane watched as Somerville, confronted with the evidence of his actions, began to weep and plead. Zeke is right; the man is a coward, Viviane thought. The verdict - guilty - was read and the man began to scream in terror as guards left the room and returned with two Dementors. Viviane had seen such creatures from afar, but this was the closest she'd been to one. Odd, how they bring such a chill into the atmosphere, she thought as she glanced at the pale, distressed faces of those about her and back at the shrouded, gray figures of the Dementors.

Suddenly one of the Dementors leaned over the man and his screams increased in terror, if possible, as the creature brought its face to his. The screaming abruptly, chillingly, stopped, as the prisoner's soul was sucked away to leave his body still sitting upright, with staring eyes, in the chair.

Viviane sat still throughout the procedure, but crushed several fellow spectators as she fled the building once it was over. Bursting out of the courthouse, she turned down the first alley to be sick and leaned, shaking, against the dank brick wall.

Slowly, wrapped in her cloak and still shivering, she made her way home. Viviane was nearly there when she heard Remus calling out behind her.

"Viv? How went the trial?" His greeting faded as she turned and he caught sight of her ravaged expression. Taking her arm, he sat her down on the steps of a long-closed shop and gently pulled back the hood from her face. "Viviane? What is it?"

"Oh Remus. It was….it was….dreadful. Unspeakable. That Dementor….it took his soul," she whispered, going even paler at the recollection.

"But Viv, you knew that going in. Was the reality so bad?"

"Have you ever seen-"

"No. But this man did terrible things, Viviane. Just as bad as the people you hunt down so intently."

Viviane gave a shiver. "Remus, I'd take an honest sword-thrust over….that…any day. Isn't death enough? Afterward his body just stared." She leaned over the edge of the steps, feeling nauseous again, but soon recovered enough to let Remus guide her into their inn. Emma and Mort both gave exclamations of alarm as they caught sight of Viviane, and Remus guided her to a barstool and hauled her up into it.

"She went to the trial. The sight of the Dementor's kiss was a bit much for her."

"Oh, and no wonder," said Emma. "Nasty things, those Dementors are. Here, luv, sip this tea and you'll feel better."

The teacup was intercepted by Mort, who substituted a generous glass of Old Ogden's. "Tea won't do it, Emma. What she's just seen needs something a little more potent to put it out of mind."

Viviane had to wrap both shaking hands around the glass in order to take a tentative sip of the liquor, then peered up at Mort. "You've seen-"

"Once. I'll never forget it, either. Chills me to the bone every time I think about it, which I try not to do."

Viviane gazed into her glass. "I got him here. I lured him." With a flash of anger from her green eyes, she demanded, "How could you let me go along with this if you knew?"

Mort shrugged. "I had no idea you'd never seen the Kiss. Besides, the stupid bastard shouldn't have gotten mixed up with Death Eaters to start. Not my problem, Viv. And I'm not one to get in the way of your crusade when it doesn't injure my interests. I believe that was our bargain?"

His electric blue eyes hardened as he looked at her, then he swept past Emma to return to his office.

To be continued...

Chapter Four

"No, don't-"

Too late. Boomer Aukland had lived up to his name and lobbed a powerful but poorly aimed Reductor Curse that caught Emily off guard. The spell blasted her into the wall, and she landed in a dazed heap on the floor. "Oh Emily, are you all right?" Remus queried, hastening over to pick her up, followed by a red-faced Boomer.

"I'm- I'm fine. Really." The young witch beamed up at Remus with a besotted smile, and he released her with a pat on the shoulder.

"Well then, perhaps we should leave off here. Next lesson, this Saturday. Same time, same place."

As the classroom emptied, Remus glanced around for Anthony and found him directly at his elbow. The Healer opened his mouth to speak, looked uncomfortable, then stood there silently.

"What, Anthony? You look, er, nervous. Which is unusual, for you."

"I've got a problem. A patient, to tell the truth, who desperately needs a potion containing some stingers from African scorpions. They're unavailable through the normal channels, because a disease has decimated the population and the supply is short." He began to pace, his body tightly held, his shoulder blades straining towards each other across his back. He whirled around to face Remus. "What a world this is. When I, a fully trained Healer, can't get ingredients for medicines. When scum like Mortimer can, and sells them at exorbitant prices. While I see people dying for stupid reasons. I hate it Remus. I hate it. How can you live like you do, always calm amidst chaos, with people-"

Remus said, abruptly for him, "I thought we agreed not to discuss her."

"Right." Anthony ran a hand through his hair. "But I'm afraid that I may need to deal with her and her boss. I need this potion, Remus. My patient needs it."

With a trace of contempt, Remus said, "Do you want me to ask about it? So you don't have to dirty your hands?"

Anthony's cheeks flushed. "Please. Remus, don't get this way. I'm just - frustrated. I'm sorry, and I'll deal with this myself. I'd much rather head home and share a meal with you, then take some time to look at the stars in peace. How about it? Will you come by around 7 o'clock?"

Remus smiled and held out his hand. "Of course. In the meantime, I've got to stop by the library."

After a quick handshake, the two men left the classroom.

***

"Boomslang skin. Powdered unicorn hoof. Manticle tooth." Viviane was busy sorting potions for a consignment she was going to hand off. "Wildebeest bladder, slug antennae-"

"African scorpion stings," a deep voice added. She raised her eyes from the desk as she heard the door swing open, expecting Mortimer. Her eyebrows lifted to see Anthony Scipio walk in and halt before the desk, fury and wounded pride fighting for dominance in his expression.

"African scorpion stings," he repeated. "Tell me how much you're charging."

Viviane continued to stare at him as she sat back in the oversized leather chair, a slow grin beginning to form on her face. Before she could say anything, Anthony stalled her.

"Just tell me. I don't want your gloating or a cheap victory dance."

"They're hard to come by these days. Fifty Galleons," Viviane replied, watching with inward satisfaction the flicker of rage she saw pass across his face before he hid it.

"Here. Here's your blood money." He threw the gold coins on the desk, where they bounced off the inlaid surface to roll about the room, and snatched the bag she held out.

Viviane scooted around the desk and stepped in front of him before he managed to get to the door.

"Why do you hate me so? Not that I care, particularly. I'm just curious. Damon, and even Mortimer don't get the reaction from you that I do."

The Healer glared at her. "You are intelligent. You have connections, somewhere, and have been carefully educated. And yet you choose to augment Voldemort's destruction with this dirty business. I'm not fond of people who voluntarily throw themselves into the sewer."

"Ah. Interesting."

Viviane stepped back around him to return to her sorting. Anthony turned to watch her, puzzled. "Is that all you have to say?"

Viviane looked up. "I told you, I was curious, not anxious to find favor in your sight. Now get out, unless you aren't done insulting me."

"Gladly," Anthony said, and closed the door with exaggerated courtesy as he left.

"L'embètement," Viviane muttered to herself. "What Remus can see in him-"

The liquor cabinet in the office slid upwards and Mort walked through. "What are you grumbling on about, Viv? It's nearly time for you to go."

"I've almost got the consignment ready. So I drop this off, then go meet my second appointment to, er, collect his money."

"Yes, do make sure you get his money before you kill him. Are you sure he was-"

"Of course I'm sure," Viviane snapped. "Any other advice or doubts you'd like to voice?"

Mortimer backed away, his hands up in mock surrender. "You don't have your sword out, do you? I'd rather keep my head today."

"I have no intention of killing you just yet. The job's a little too profitable," she said as she turned her back on him to stalk through the door and into the common room. Remus walked into the inn and Viviane swept past him. "Enjoyable teaching session?" she asked without breaking stride, a hint of sarcasm in her voice. She didn't wait for his answer and Remus looked questioningly at Mortimer, who stood in the doorway of his office, arms crossed. The smuggler watched Viviane cross the room and bang through the door, then sighed and shook his head.

"What's with her?" Remus said. "Is she ever in a mood."

"I don't know. Walked into the office, asked a question, and she nearly got deadly on me. I pity the man she's meeting later - but at least it'll be quick." He walked behind the bar to pour himself some Old Ogdens and give Emma, who was restocking, a hand with some wine casks.

"Oh, she's - well, I probably don't want to know. Thanks, Emma." Remus sat down and took a sip of the ale she set before him.

"Don't worry, he's expendable. Fairly regular customer, but he's been getting later and later with payments, and then had the stupidity to threaten me with the Ministry." Mortimer barked a laugh, and slapped his hand on the bar. "She's a piece of work, is our Viv, but ultimately quite useful. I only hope she doesn't walk into a situation she can't handle someday, and get killed over something that isn't worth her blood."

Remus gave a shiver. "I dread that."

*****

When Viviane finally appeared back at the inn, well past midnight, Remus was sitting by the fire in the common room, deep in The Imperius Curse: Making and Breaking the Spell. He glanced up and raised an eyebrow at her jaunty walk and satisfied air as she flopped down in the chair opposite him. "How was your evening?" she queried.

"Very nice, but obviously not as profitable as your day. Dare I ask what you're so happy about?"

"Better not. Just assume there's one Death Eater the less tonight." She smiled and stretched her boots towards the fire.

Remus gave her a level stare. "Viviane, have you ever thought-"

"No, Remus, I haven't." She yawned. "I have a full day of extortion tomorrow, so I'm off to bed. Coming upstairs?

"Later. 'Night, Viv."

*****

Next morning Viviane was walking down the main street of Shipley, a huge cup of coffee in her hand. She turned into the local owlkeeper's shop.

"Felix!" Viviane called into the back of the store. "How's business been?" A short, slight wizard in loudly patterned robes and possessing a truly remarkable roman nose emerged from a back room. He cast worried blue eyes in Viviane's direction, pulling nervously at a mop of ruddy curls. "Oh Viviane, it's been rotten, just rotten. Take a look at my books - do you think you can convince Mort to wait-"

"Felix, do we really have to go through this every month? I happen to know you sold three rare owls last week."

"But-"

"You're the only person I extort that I get along with; don't ruin our pleasant relationship!"

The wizard grinned at her. "Right. We pariahs ought to stick together. Frankly, I don't know why everybody's so upset with Mort. He's better than a bunch of high and mighty Death Eaters running the place."

He walked along the rows of cages, stopping to open the door of one containing a magnificent tawny owl, which hopped forward eagerly to receive his caresses. "Oh Heloise, you beauty, how are you?" he cooed. The owl hooted softly, rubbing one of her ears along his jawline as he stroked her wings. "And here's my Ian, how is he?" Felix continued as he turned to another bird, this time a screech owl that ruffled his back feathers delightedly as the proprietor smoothed the bird's chest. "You fly with the best of them, you do," he said proudly as the owl extracted a treat from the closest pocket of Felix' robe. At the sound of his voice the occupants of the other cages and perches had begun to hoot and rustle for his attention, beaks eagerly grabbing at his robes, searching for hidden treats and begging for a mark of attention. The shopkeeper began going down the row, showering each bird in turn with endearments and strokes of his nervous fingers.

During these avian ministrations, Viviane wandered to the front of the store and saw a familiar form at the other end of the street. "Oh, there's Zeke, and Moody's with him," she commented. "Mr. Bigshot Auror. They're headed here, I think. Wait, he's stopped to talk-"

An empty cage crashed to the ground, causing Viviane to spin around. "Felix? You all right?"

"He's an Auror?" The wizard, sheet-white, began to wring his hands. He backed up the length of the store and collapsed in a chair next to the counter. "I'm a dead man, or worse. Sweet Merlin, they'll feed me to a Dementor for sure."

Viviane stared. "Felix? You were a Death Eater?"

Felix covered his face with his hands. "You can't possibly understand. They threatened my family, my livelihood, my owls, if I refused to join. I gave in and helped them - did terrible things - and then they killed my wife and daughter, because Helen was half-Muggle. They came by one day after I'd finished doing their…bidding, and used the Killing Curse on Helen. They laughed. Said they were helping me 'clean house,' and then turned on Sophia, claiming she was - weak, had weak blood. Dear Merlin, she was only twelve years old. They were so fast, it was over before I knew they'd killed her. I suppose I should have left Shipley after everything happened because of the things I did. I'm only tolerated by the people here if they need an owl, but it's where Helen and Sophia are buried…my girls…"

Viviane hauled him to his feet and shoved him in a corner. "Stand still," she commanded. "Don't move an inch. Try not to breath. Trust me." She pointed her wand at him and said "Confundo," causing him to blend into the wall.

She took a seat at the counter and waited for the two Aurors to arrive. They entered the store and, spotting Viviane, stopped in surprise before resuming their walk to where she was seated.

"What are you doing here?" Moody growled. "Finally taken up an honest profession?"

"I'm sorry you think me so easily reformed, Moody. No, I'm doing business with the owner. He went to get the money, but I wouldn't be surprised if I don't see him again today - he's disappeared on me before. A pity. I'd hate to have to do something to him. Are you in the market for an owl? I can show you a nice pygmy," she concluded brightly.

Moody leaned over the counter, his face inches from hers. "He's ours, Chance. You will not 'do' anything to him, but you will let us know when you see him again. He's a known Death Eater, and we need to ask him some questions."

"Or feed him to a Dementor?" Viviane shivered. "Have you gotten so desperate, that you're going after shopkeepers?"

"You have no idea-"

"Stop it, both of you!" Zeke was looking torn between annoyance and amusement. "Viv, we do need to arrest this man, so if you could let us know if you see him, it would be appreciated. We're leaving tomorrow for a week, and it would save us a lot of trouble if we could take him with us."

Viviane shrugged. "Certainly. It's a pity, though. He was one of the few people in this town who talked to me without looking as if they were restraining the urge to spit." She snorted. "He would turn out to be a Death Eater. If I don't see you later, have a good journey."

Zeke grinned and gallantly kissed her hand, as Moody rolled his eyes. "We're having a little farewell bash at the Bleeding Hart tonight. Stop by, and drag Remus along. That boy needs some action."

Laughing, she agreed. "I keep telling him to flirt with Emma. We'd be sure to get reduced rent."

"Ah, Emma's taken, or going to be, by me, my love. Remus must look elsewhere." He gave her a wink as they turned to leave.

She watched the Aurors out of the store and down the street, then pointed her wand at Felix. "Reverso."

The terrified man collapsed in the corner where he'd stood, crouching against the wall and shaking. "Viviane, they're going to arrest me. I should have known this would never end. Perhaps it's for the best, to give up now-"

Viviane reached down and helped him to his feet. "You have one week to get your life together and get out of here. Keep yourself scarce tonight, and start making plans to disappear after Moody and Zeke leave town. I wish I could do more, but-"

"You've done more than most would have." He peered up at her, perplexed. "They say you hate Death Eaters, hunt them down, kill them - so why…"

She frowned, knitting her eyebrows, and finally replied, "I don't know. Perhaps I dislike subjecting anybody to Dementors. Perhaps those I hate made their decisions freely, with motives of profit and self-advancement. Hell, there are times when even I don't know why I do what I do. What?"

The shopkeeper was looking at her intently, as if to fit her for a new gown.

"You don't seem like the owl type-"

"Not with my current lifestyle. I can't be dragging an owl around from town to town."

"So I'd like to give you this." He walked to a room behind the counter and returned to show Viviane a magnificent falcon perched on his arm, fierce of eye and sharp of talon.

"Oh. Oh, he's gorgeous! A peregrine? Where did you get him?" She reached out a finger to stroke his head as the bird surveyed her with a keen yellow eye.

"He was injured, and one of the most talented trainers I know found and rescued him, then trained him to carry messages. But he's used to living in the wild, and won't stand a cage. He needs a perch, and will track you from place to place when you travel. You don't even need a gauntlet unless he's coming in for a landing." Felix held him towards Viviane, who extended her arm for the bird to climb onto. He did, and carefully scooted up to her shoulder, where he investigated her hair and her gold serpent earring with his hooked beak. He then walked across to the other shoulder, and settled down emphatically with a quick spread of his wings and a ruffle of his feathers.

"Ah, good, he's chosen you. Falcons aren't like owls; they choose whom they will associate with, and they aren't easy to please. I see this fellow has recognized another wild creature." Felix grinned at Viviane. "He doesn't have a name, yet. What will you call him?"

Viviane looked down at Felix, her hard features softening. "I will call him Malhereuse. Unfortunate. To remind me of your Helen and Sophia. I - thank you. Felix, you must take care, and get well away from here, understand? May all the gods protect you." She dropped a quick kiss on his cheek and abruptly turned away, forgetting to collect the money she came for, and left the shop.

*****

Remus was sitting in his room, his long legs stretched towards the fire, enjoying a cup of tea. His peaceful evening was interrupted Viviane burst in.

"Come on! It's time to go!" she sang out. She took the cup out of his hand and set it down on the mantelpiece, then scooped up his cloak from the bed and tossed it at him.

He stared up at her. "Go? Where?" He drew his eyebrows together, puzzled by her forced gaiety and odd, frantic movements.

"To the Bleeding Hart. Zeke invited us. He and his friends are leaving for a week, and are having a bit of a send-off. I, er, ran into them today and he told me about it."

"Oh Viv, I'd much rather stay in tonight. Perhaps another time-"

"You don't have a choice in the matter." She grabbed him under one arm and hauled him to his feet. "We're going."

Remus sighed. "All right, if you insist. But I'm not staying long."

When he entered the tavern, he saw a quartet of musicians tuning their fiddles and pipes in a corner, well away from the already boisterous crowd surrounding the bar. The place was shabbier and not as well kept as their inn, and Remus spotted dice and card games being played in the shadowy edges of the room. Smoke from pipes dimmed the already murky air.

"And here's our fellow alumnus," Vince called out, motioning to Remus and Viviane to join them. "How's the defense class going, Remus?" he asked.

Remus laughed, in spite of his annoyance at being dragged out against his will. "Pretty well, barring the errant Reductor Curse. How's the hunt for Death Eaters coming along?"

"Great. We've got another one we're picking up tomorrow before we leave. As a matter of fact, Viviane, Viviane?"

The men turned to where she'd been standing, to find her gone. "That's odd, what happened to her? She was just here-"

Remus spotted her talking to a man he didn't know further down the bar. "She must be on the prowl," he remarked. "Keep your guard up, Vince."

Chuckling, Vince replied, "Don't worry - she's a little too much for me to handle. That Emily, though. Now there's a witch-"

The musicians started up, and Vince took the opportunity to find Emily and join some of the others in a contradance. Remus relaxed against the bar, sipping his ale and keeping watch on Viviane out of the corner of his eye. She'd abandoned the man she had been talking to, and was busy teasing Zeke about his infatuation with Emma. Something's up. Do I want to know what it is? Probably not - I'll hear about it only too soon.

He stood alone, ignoring the crowd around him, when he saw Viviane joining the dancers, accompanied by the first man he'd seen her talking to. Handsome enough, Remus thought, with his elegant profile and long, dark hair. But she's acting strangely, even so. She usually waits for the men to come to her, and I distinctly remember that she's claimed to not know how to dance. She's brilliant at it. He sidled closer to them when the musicians took a break and Viviane, with her escort, returned to the bar.

"Ah, I should teach you one from my country," the man was saying. "It is called the tango, and is a most passionate dance. I miss the dancing, and the music from Argentina, but I've got business in England for the next several weeks. Do you miss France?"

Remus did not hear Viviane's answer, but saw her downing a large shot of vodka instead of sipping her usual wine, or gin and tonic. Walking up to her, he took her arm. "Excuse us for a moment," he said to the stranger, and led Viviane into a corner.

"What's up? What is it, Viv? You've obviously been upset by something - why don't you tell me about it instead of downing hard liquor by the pint? Whatever it is, you know I can handle it by now."

She looked at him, and he was shocked to see desperation behind the over-excited expression in her eyes. "Remus, I can't talk about it, but tonight, I warn you, I'm going to get mind-numbingly drunk and perhaps pick up this nice Argentine wizard -"

"I'm sure he'll appreciate that," Remus commented.

"So find something to do, besides watching me for indiscretions. Because I may commit quite a few." She whirled away from him, and walked back up to her dancing partner.

That's that, thought Remus and went back to his spot at the bar. I'm not about to get in her way tonight, and he ordered a double Scotch. May as well enjoy myself now. Everyone else seems to be, and I suppose I should, too. He surveyed the crowd, not finding anyone that he wanted to pair up with, or even talk to. Leaning his back against the bar, he thought, how does she do it? It has been years now, and I still can't function properly outside Hogwarts, outside the academic environment. Viv blends into anywhere, despite her obviously pedigreed background. Well, almost. She still holds herself like a princess, even when contemplating murder.

Remus swirled his scotch around in his glass, unwillingly remembering the Three Broomsticks and the butterbeer he'd consumed there with his former schoolmates. Better drink, worse company, he thought. Ah, James, you'd be appalled at the company I keep these days. Sirius, on the other hand, would love-. He downed a larger gulp of his scotch than he'd planned on, and choked. Zeke appeared to slap him on the back.

"Having a good time? If you aren't, Viviane sure is." He laughed, and Remus turned to see what he was looking at. Viviane was sitting on the stranger's lap, and they were kissing passionately. Remus sighed, then gave a short laugh but said nothing.

"Jealous? Is that why you're standing here alone-"

"No, not at all. Viviane and I are friends, nothing more." Remus drained his drink.

"Ah. I might be though, in your place. She's a strikingly handsome witch, and if I could afford to get involved with a smuggler and murderer, well, all that energy she has must translate well in the bedroom. As it is-"

"I wouldn't know." Remus considered heading back to his inn, but Zeke thrust another drink in his hands.

"Scotch, were you drinking? This is a double, my man. Lighten up your lantern jaws, because you're one wizard who needs it!" Zeke gave him another slap on the back and disappeared back into the crowd.

Remus stared at the drink in his hand. What the hell. Viviane isn't the only one who has things she's trying to forget. He drank off half the glass in one large gulp and surveyed the crowd morosely, undisturbed in his bitter thoughts until he heard a strange voice addressing him.

"Excuse me, but did you arrive with this young lady?" Remus turned to find Viviane standing unsteadily in the arms of the man she'd been kissing.

"Marcos - what are you doing?" Viviane protested, trying to back away.

"I think she needs to be escorted home - no, my dear." He took Viviane by the shoulders to look into her eyes. "You are…most attractive, most tempting. But I like my women a little more sober than you seem to be. Perhaps another time." He kissed her lightly and held her towards Remus, who grasped his friend around the waist.

"Er, thank you. I was just leaving, myself. Come on, Viv." Trying to suppress a grin at her outraged expression, he guided her out into the street and towards their inn. As they walked, Remus struggled to keep Viviane from falling over. "If you can't do better than this, I'll use the Mobilicorpus Spell and float you right down the main street."

"Don't," Viviane mumbled. "That'll impair my reputation as a fearsome swor'fighter. Can't fight if you can't walk….

"Ooomph." Remus was caught off balance as Viviane reeled into him. He was none too steady himself, and he fell over in a heap. "Wha' was that about Mobilicorpus?" Viviane said, beginning to giggle. "The brilliant defense teacher, who can't stand up." She gave him her hand to help him up, but as he took it he pulled her down as he struggled to his feet.

"What was that about standing?" Remus began to laugh as well. He helped her stand, and they resumed their walk back home, managing to make it back without further interruption.

****

At the end of an abnormally uneventful week, Remus and Viviane returned from the library to find Annabel and Zeke playing chess before the common room fireplace. "You're back. How was the trip?" Remus asked. He looked over at Viviane and then around, confused, as Viviane, Malhereuse on her shoulder, tried vainly, considering her height, to hide behind him.

"Pretty well," Zeke replied. "But it would have been much more productive could we have nabbed Felix first. Take a seat - Remus, you can play the winner of this match, which looks like it will be Annabel."

She chuckled. "You have been playing very sloppily, Zeke." Leaning across to him, she whispered, "You're trying too hard. Could the presence of a certain innkeeper…"

"Just for that, I'll take your rook, Miss Impertinent."

Viviane, who had walked over to the bar, returned with drinks for herself and Remus. She'd just handed one to Remus when Moody burst into the room, fury written on his countenance. "He's gone," the Auror snarled. "His shop is empty, his house is empty. I'll wager anything that that damned Frenchwoman-"

He stopped short as he saw Viviane there, and he pointed at her, his hand shaking with rage. "You- if I ever find out that you had a hand in this man's escape-"

Zeke and Annabel had risen from their game and were looking narrowly at Viviane. "Tell me you did not interfere in this, Viviane. Please," Zeke said.

"Of course I did not. Who am I, a foreigner and a criminal, to stand in the way of your justice-"

A wordless, enraged sound came from Moody's direction, and he was pointing at the falcon on her shoulder. He finally found his voice. "Where did you get that?" he choked out. "It's a rare smuggler who can afford a falcon. That shopkeeper bribed you to help him escape-" He stepped up to her and grabbed a fold of her robe, causing the bird to rise into the air and settle back down on the mantelpiece. "I swear, Chance, I will find out what you've done with him. I'll find him and when I do, he'll tell me what I want to know. And you'll end up in an Azkaban cell, while he gets to meet a Dementor-"

Viviane, who had stood quietly, breathing hard, through Moody's tirade, took a step backwards and drew in a long, shaky breath. "You will never - never - put me in a cell," she hissed between gritted teeth. "You and your friends, you aren't good enough to ever corner me. Don't try."

Moody took out his wand. "I love a challenge, smuggler. You'll be sorry you ever left France to cause trouble here."

Remus saw Viviane's hand reach towards her swordhilt. Moving more quickly than he thought possible, he stepped behind her and grabbed her around the waist, pinning her arms to her sides. "Stop it," he hissed into her ear, trying to restrain her as she kicked and struggled to get away from him to go at Moody. Zeke had stepped in front of his fellow Auror, barely holding him back as he lunged, trying to get a clear shot at Viviane.

"Let me go! How dare you? I'll show them what it means to threaten me…Remus, let me go." She caught him in his side with her elbow, and he almost lost his grip on her as Moody managed to get around Zeke and Annabel. The Auror brought his wand up to his shoulder, but before he could utter a curse, a blur of feathers and beak and claws attacked his head. "Damnation!" the Auror screamed. "Get this cursed bird away from me or I'll blast it into eternity."

Viviane started to laugh, still struggling against Remus' restraint. "Go at him, Malhereuse, go for his eyes."

"Zeke, I'm going to take her upstairs," Remus panted. "I suggest you try and calm your pal down before he does something he'll be sorry for later. Viviane, call off your pet."

"Whatever for-"

"Call. Him. Off." Viviane hesitated, but obeyed. "Malhereuse. Stop it. Go find a rat or two - I'm sure you're hungry." The falcon gave one last, nasty peck at Moody's head, then took flight up the stairwell.

Remus, still clasping Viviane, began to push her up the steps and towards his room. He glanced back to see an enraged Moody wiping at the blood trickling down his face. She's done it now, he thought. Time to get to the bottom of this mess.

He managed to wrestle her into his room and he relocked the door as he finally let her go. She made for the door, but Remus grabbed her and forcibly seated her on the bed. "You're going to remain seated and tell me exactly what is going on. Moody was ready to kill you back there." He folded his arms and looked down at her. "Did you kill this man, or help him escape, knowing that the Aurors wanted him?"

She glared up at him. "It is none of your business-"

Remus, shaking slightly, his brown eyes glinting with rage, grabbed Viviane by the shoulders and, whirling her around, slammed her back none too gently against the wall. "So, Felix gave you that falcon as a bribe. You listen to me, Viviane. We're living on a knife-edge, here. You're engaged in all kinds of criminal activity. I'm a werewolf. Werewolf. You can choose to stop what you're doing, but I can't. I have no choice. And I can't afford to alert the Ministry to my condition, not with how things stand now. Everybody here sees us as a team, and what you do affects me. Get it?"

Viviane was staring at him, her mouth open in shock.

"And let me inform you, Mademoiselle Chance, that whatever status you may have had in France is gone. I don't know who you really are, but in this place you have no diplomatic immunity and no family connections to save you from yourself. So stop acting like you do, and stop flouting those Aurors at every turn. They'll run you to ground if they feel like it, and I have no intention of being trampled with you as a result of your personal vendetta." His hands tightened on her shoulders. "Tell me you understand what I'm saying."

Viviane's eyes narrowed. "I understand. Oh yes, I do. You British, all the same, all worried about yourselves. You complain about conditions here, the mess Voldemort left but you damned well allowed France to fight him alone. So I am continuing the fight on my own terms, like it or not. Do you have any other orders to bark at me?

Remus blanched and jerked his hands away from her shoulders as if they were poisoned. "No. No, I don't. Now please get out, because I have to prepare for a visit to my charming holiday cabin in the woods."

She turned to leave and hesitated for a second at the door. She ended by exiting into the hallway. Remus heard her stomping to her own room as he threw extra clothes, some bread and a flask of pumpkin juice into his knapsack. If I'm lucky, perhaps Mortimer will have moved her to another city by the time I get back. I can't take much more of this.

****

Viviane spent the next week in such a foul mood, that even Emma began to avoid her. She tried not to think of Remus, but found herself stopping by his door to listen for signs of his return. Damn you, Remus. Why don't I just let you go about your insufferably noble business? Life would be much simpler if I didn't have you looking over my shoulder at every turn, she thought as she rooted the account books out of Mortimer's overflowing shelves. She took them to the bar and spread them out, to begin recording the week's transactions.

"Er, Viviane, can I get you a glass of wine?" Emma asked hesitantly. Viviane smiled at her. "Don't worry, I won't snap at you today. I'm sorry I've been so out of sorts, but-"

"Is it Remus? We heard you two screaming at each other from down here, just before he left. If it was one of his monthly journeys, he should have been back by now."

"I know. I'm beginning to worry, but perhaps whatever business he has is keeping him."

Emma set the glass of burgundy in front of Viviane and smiled. "I'm sure that must be the case. He's too level-headed to get into any real trouble." She gave Viviane's arm a comforting squeeze and walked to the other end of the bar to resume her negotiations with an ale vendor.

Viviane tried to concentrate on her work, but she was interrupted when Malhereuse insisted on making runs at her quill, trying to capture it. "Stop it, you obnoxious bird. Felix told me you were trained," his owner groused. When she turned to the page that recorded her transactions with the shopkeeper, she trailed her finger thoughtfully down the column of numbers, then gave the quill to Malhereuse and closed the ledger. She stared down into the red depths of her wine. If Felix was coerced by threats into working for Voldemort and the Death Eaters, how many others were? There's a man rotting in a pile of leaves, on the outskirts of Shipley because of me. Reginald, were you- She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. No. I saw the joy you took in killing. But, really, were you any different in your ruthless behavior and quest for power than-

Her father, the renowned and revered Philippe Devereaux, towered over her in imagination, stern and compelling, and Viviane was enfolded by her past.

We must do this to ensure victory. You have no choice. I've been testing you for years, my child, sometimes brutally and you've passed every test without complaint. Viviane's hands tightened on her wineglass as she recalled how she had backed away from him.

"No, I won't do this. You can't do this. I'm nearly sixteen and no longer a child. This is my body and my life." Philippe knelt down and took her hands. "You are a Devereaux. Your body and your life are not yours, they belong to the family and to France. You will be used where you are needed."

The young girl broke away from him and walked to the door. "I will not be used," she declared and reached for the latch. Before she could touch it, Philippe grabbed his daughter and threw her into an oversized chair, then braced himself against the arms, trapping her.

"Did I hear you defy me?" he said calmly.

Chin lifted, the girl gazed at him, her eyes uncanny duplicates of his. "Yes. It is time I did. If you want a mindless toy, have another child."

"I'm afraid that isn't possible, Viviane. Your mother and I had an agreement when we married. She would receive my name and my position, I would receive her wealth and her body - for one child. She doesn't like childbearing, and so you are and will remain our only heir." He leaned closer, and his voice hardened. "I will not tolerate disobedience from you. I see I may have to take more drastic measures to ensure your cooperation. You have, I suppose, heard tales of your great-great-uncle, the excessively long-lived Donatien?"

Viviane scrambled back in the chair at the mention of the name.

"Ah yes, the creature of your young nightmares, the nursery bogeyman." He leaned closer to her, and whispered, "The tales you've heard don't even come close to reality." He grasped her chin, forcing her to look into his eyes. "As much as I love you, I have no scruples in sending you to Charenton to learn a lesson or two about obedience. I despise the…I refuse to call him a man…the being that he is, but he'll teach you the realities of your situation in no uncertain terms. I wasn't pleased by the connection when I married your mother, but he would be useful in this case. You'll come back a perfectly submissive shadow of the person you are now." His fingers tightened on her jaw. "Do you want that? Or will you do what I command, whereby I leave you a piece of your soul?"

"At least tell me what you're going to do. Please. Don't just…just…"

Philippe stood up, a satisfied smile on his lips. "Ah, Viviane, you'll be receiving a gift like no other. To have thousands under your command, feared by all - now stand up, and face this like the Devereaux you are."

The girl got reluctantly to her feet, obedience personified, except for the look in her eyes.

"This won't be the last test, or the worst, Viviane. Dormio." The girl stood without flinching; the only sign of her horror were the fingernails driven into her palms as she watched the white light from her father's wand rush towards her. She stared steadily at him in the last moment before she fell asleep, to awaken changed forever without knowing what that change involved.

Viviane's hands were gripping the wineglass so tightly that her knuckles were white, but then her hands convulsed and the glass shattered.

She blinked and looked at her hands in wonder, covered in burgundy and bleeding slightly from tiny cuts. She looked up to meet Emma's shocked eyes. "I - I - "

"Let me see, Viviane," Emma said, gently blotting the wine off of the young witch's upturned palms and picking glass out of cuts, clucking with disapproval as she worked. "You looked like you were in a trance, luv. Are you going to tell any of us what's the matter and let us help, or are you going to continue to destroy my glassware?"

"Oh, Emma, I am sorry. I don't know what happened."

The innkeeper stopped looking for glass splinters and gave Viviane a hard look. "What happened was you were caught in a memory that was none too pleasant, if I can go by the result." She held up one of Viviane's hands. "Does Remus know what's bothering you?"

Viviane came to a decision. "Emma, could you put these ledgers away? I've got something I must do."

"Wait, Viv, your hands-"

Ignoring her, Viviane headed back upstairs and hesitated in front of Remus' door.

"Remus? Remus, are you there?" Viviane knocked on his door, then resorted to pounding. Finally, she managed to break the lock and found the room undisturbed, his meager possessions still neatly placed about the room. Not good, she thought. He should have been back three days ago. Sighing, she left the room to don her cloak.

As she set out for Remus' shack through a bitter January snowstorm, she tried to dismiss thoughts of finding him dead from loss of blood, or killed by an intruder. When she reached her destination, though, her stomach gave a sick lurch and she whispered, "Oh no. Oh, Remus, what have you done?"

The door had been ripped from the hinges, the locks chewed off. The exposed interior of the shack was a wreck, and there was no sign of Remus as either wizard or werewolf. Viviane began to shake with apprehension, and ran her hands over the gouges in the walls, trying vainly to think of places he might have gone. After a moment, Viviane set out through the woods, trying to find anything that would help her discover the direction he had taken. By now, the snow had covered any tracks that would have helped her, so she headed towards the next town, desperately hoping Remus had had the sense to stay near civilization in case he needed help, but out of sight if he did not.

After a day of futile searching, Viviane was near hysteria from worry and exhaustion, her cloak soaked through with freezing sleet. Her dragonhide boots, although perfectly made and well guarded with waterproofing spells, had given up and her feet were numb from wet and cold. She kept reciting numbly, "He can't be dead. He can't be. Not after everything we've been through." After searching nearby towns and the forest, she wandered through the dank alleys of Shipley, hoping that somehow Remus had made it back, only to collapse before reaching their inn. As she stumbled down yet another narrow, stinking passage, drunken and delirious hands grabbed at her ankles and her robes as she bent to peer into the faces of crumpled bodies lying in the gutters. "Damn you, Voldemort, for the wreckage you've caused," she muttered, knowing that so many of these human husks were people who'd lost everything to his bid for power, their lives destroyed beyond all hope of repair.

Gritting her teeth, she bent down to look at the face of yet another unconscious man, and to her shock and infinite relief she recognized her friend. "Remus, oh, sweet Merlin, how did you get here?" she whispered as she fell to her knees in the muck beside him. She felt his pulse with a shaking hand, taking a sharp breath of relief to find him alive, if barely so. He was in terrible shape, with cuts and bruises to his face and body, the worst being a deep gash on his temple. He was cold to the touch. She noticed that a small gold ring he normally wore was missing, and that his robes had been nearly ripped from his back, obviously the result of a robbery. Viviane tried to stem the panic rising within her. How to get him back to the inn. I could explain that he was attacked, but I really don't want to raise any more questions than I have to. She sat back on her heels for a moment, and thought of the side staircase of the inn. It was late - perhaps she could maneuver Remus back to his room without detection.

Standing up and taking out her wand, she put a Mobilicorpus Charm on Remus, whose body rose in the air and hovered a few inches off the ground. Viviane swathed him in her cloak, preparing herself to act the angry friend guiding her drunken partner home. Her hand brushed the wound on his temple, but he did not open his eyes or respond. His skin was icy and one shoulder hung down at an unnatural angle. She shivered in despair as she realized just how extensive his injuries were, but started to float Remus back to safety through the quiet streets.

Vivane got him back to his room without detection, and after lowering him onto the bed, stood uncertainly as she considered what to do. He's very badly injured, and I don't know anything about healing. Emma? But she doesn't know enough about injuries this severe. Remus needs a trained healer. She thought of Dr. Scipio, but dreaded asking him for help, knowing how thoroughly he despised her. Her fear and her pride battled for supremacy, but another look at Remus settled the question, and she took care to lock the door after her as she set off for the doctor.

Going around to the back of Anthony Scipio's house, she tapped quietly at the door. "Dr. Scipio. Please, answer the door. It's Viviane Chance. I have an emergency."

The door flew open and the doctor stood there, an outraged look on his face. "What do you want here, at this time of night? To sell me some black market ingredients? Set me up for a scam? Get off my doorstep, you vile piece of trash. Do all of us a favor and get out of town, and take your pimp of a boss with you."

Viviane caught his arm as he tried to slam the door. "Please. Please. It's Remus. He's been badly hurt, and I don't know how to help him. I know you would never grant me a request for myself, but I'm asking for Remus. Please, I think he might die."

Scipio tore his arm out of her grasp but paused. "Remus, hurt? What have you done to him?" Drawing herself up to her full height, she replied, "He's in his room. I'll let you in when you arrive," and turned to disappear back into the night.

*****

As she sat waiting for Scipio to show up, Viviane rested her elbows on her knees and covered her face with her hands. What now? We can't keep this up. Then, irritated with herself for wallowing in self pity, she got up. Finding a clean towel and some water, she began to wipe the dirt from Remus' face. She had just finished and was starting on his arms when she heard a tap on the door and Dr. Scipio whisper, "Let me in."

Viviane opened the door and the doctor brushed past her, saying, "What happened?"

"I found him like this, in the alley behind The Dragon's Breath Inn."

Scipio ran his hand over Remus' chest, and peered intently into his face. "He would have been dead soon, lying out there, but I can heal him in his current condition. I'll need some privacy for this. You'll be informed when I'm done," and began to unpack his bag without a single glance at her. Viviane took a last look at Remus before shutting the door and returning to her room down the hall.

*****

Remus began to struggle towards consciousness, slowly becoming aware that there wasn't a part of him that wasn't sore, bruised or torn to shreds. Blinking a few times, he looked up to find the face of Anthony Scipio come into focus. "Anthony? Where am I? Where's Viviane?"

"You are in your room. Quite an adventure you must have had, to injure yourself so thoroughly."

Remus closed his eyes and attempted a sigh, but it hurt too much. "I- I was coming back from a short journey and got attacked. I don't know how I got here. I don't understand-"

"Apparently that friend of yours found you, and informed me that you needed attention. And you did - you would have died of blood loss and a head injury if I hadn't come in time. Those are teeth and claw marks on your arms and chest. Were you attacked by an animal?" Scipio eyed Remus keenly, and Remus felt the familiar chill settle on his heart.

"I don't remember. I was attacked by a bunch of guys who were looking to rob me. But wait, that was after-"

"After you transformed back?" Scipio said quietly. Remus' lips tightened and he closed his eyes in shame, unable to speak but thinking, And all I can do is lie here like a trapped animal. Hell, I am a trapped animal.

"I've had my suspicions for some time. You're not the type of wizard to avoid the moon without a good reason, and I've treated enough werewolf bites and scratches to know them when I see them." He placed a hand on Remus' shoulder. "But it's our secret. If I can help in any way-"

Remus' eyes flew open in surprise. "But why would you do that? You're a doctor, you've seen the results of what I can do- what I'm capable of-"

Scipio sighed. "There have been no reports of werewolves in the area for some time, so it's obvious you're doing your best to be responsible, and you're one of the most intelligent men I've ever met. In my mind, you're far less dangerous to the general population than Mademoiselle Chance." He managed to make her name sound like an especially foul disease. "She's a woman of no principle and far too much latent power. If she ever harnesses it, she'll be capable of more damage than any of us could imagine."

"Anthony, she's a girl who has had to survive on her wits and her sword. Hasn't done too badly, considering what she's been given to work with." Remus blinked a few more times and said, "Where is she, anyway?"

Scipio got up. "In her room, probably. I'll let her know I'm done here, and there's a potion with instructions on your table. You should be all right in a day or two; those cuts are already beginning to heal nicely. You're a lucky man, Remus. Most would be dead by now."

Remus held out his hand. "Thanks. And try to be civil to Viviane. If she hadn't found me-"

Anthony gave a curt nod, and left.

*****

Remus glanced over as Viviane came into the room, who looked uncharacteristically shy as she approached his bed and sat down in the chair beside it. "How do you feel? Oh, what a stupid question-"

"Like hell. Where did you find me? How did you get me here?"

Viviane studied her hands with minute care as she told the story of the empty shack and her search among the woods and streets, finally locating him in one of the alleys of Shipley. She found the courage to look at him as she ended her tale, but could not find anything else to say and he lay there, silent.

At last, staring at the ceiling, he said in a barely audible voice, "Anthony said I was lucky. Lucky that you found me when you did. Why did you even bother? Next time, leave me there to die - it would be kinder to everyone, especially me." Viviane bounced up to stand over him and grabbed his arms, ignoring his wince of pain. "Don't say that. Do not say that. There's been too much destruction, too much waste already." She realized she was shouting and lowered her voice, releasing Remus at the same time. "We'll find another place for you to transf-"

"Viviane, can't you see it doesn't matter? I'm tired of all of this, the people I may have bitten, tearing myself to shreds in that bloody shack, losing control, living with the humiliation of feeling myself turn into a beast inch by inch." He sat up, startling Viviane, and screamed hoarsely, "Padfoot! Sirius, you bastard, how could you betray James and Lily, leaving me alone to end up like a madman in the gutter-" He wound his fingers into the bedsheets, shoulders heaving in sobs. Viviane stood over him, shifting uncomfortably from foot to foot, unsure of what to do. Finally she sat down and tentatively folded Remus in an embrace, lowering his head onto her shoulder and running her hand over his matted hair. As she rested her cheek against his head, she wondered to herself when the last of their luck would run out, alone or together, and what would happen to them when it did.

Chapter 5

Remus carefully opened his eyes and shifted in his bed, testing his body for pain. Finding it had lessened considerably, he sat up and pressed his feet against the floor. His legs felt steady, so he stood and walked to the window, leaning his forehead against the glass. What happened back there, in the shack? How did my wolf find the strength and rage to penetrate the containment spells I’ve set? Am I losing control of my anger? Was it the argument with Viviane? He frowned, recalling her near-brawl with Moody. What was she thinking, challenging an Auror who could take her down by barely lifting his wand? Lucky for her, Moody’s not the impulsive type. She’s only intensifying the pressure on herself. Hell. Bloody hell.

Viviane burst into the room, interrupting his musings. "Oh Remus, you’re up! Wonderful – you do look much better."

"Yes, I’m almost back to, er, normal." He guided her to a chair by the fire and sat down in one opposite. "Which means I’m strong enough to give you the third degree." Taking a good look at her for the first time since their argument, he noticed the shadows under her eyes and the absence of their usual intensity. "Viv, you look exhausted, and you’re spooked by something. No, look at me." He nudged her foot with his. "Hey, I’m over here, not in that tree outside the window."

She grudgingly turned to him. "Remus, I’m fine. Just tired, really-"

"According to Emma, you managed to implode a wineglass with your bare hands. That isn’t the sign of an untroubled mind. Neither is that." He pointed to the velvet piping on her dark green sleeve, which she had picked ragged.

"Damn," she said, and got up to kneel on the window seat. She stared out, her back to Remus. He got up and stood behind her. "All right, we’ll both stare aimlessly out the window until you decide to either go crazy or tell me what is bothering you."

"You might be here a while, Remus." She sighed and sat back on her heels, shoulders sagging. "Oh all right, I suppose I’m beginning to realize that there are Death Eater...and Death Eaters," she said slowly. "And that I shouldn’t drag you into the havoc I create."

Viviane suddenly turned to look straight at him, and he blinked in surprise at the confusion behind her stare. "You were right, you know. What you said to me before you left – you were right. I’m a half-educated witch who has done nothing for the last two years but rampage mindlessly, trying to outrun something that will never be far behind me. I…I don’t know what kind of future I have. All I was taught – the social niceties, how to conduct research, surviving power politics, is useless. The only things I’m currently good at are smuggling and killing people, and I don’t see much of a future in those."

Remus hauled her to her feet and held her close for a moment, noting the weight she’d lost. "Won’t you tell me what it is from your past that you can’t seem to shake?"

"Won’t you tell me why you insisted I should have left you to die?"

Remus pulled back to look at her, his brown eyes wide.

"Well?" she continued. "You did, you know. Being a werewolf – a Dark creature – must be terrible, but Remus, that’s only one quarter of your life." She took his face in her hands. "You still have three-fourths of it in which to live as you please."

He placed his hands over hers and closed his eyes. "Not entirely as I please, and one quarter of my life is no small measure. And you’ve got a death wish of your own, you know. The one you cloak in vendettas and senseless acts of defiance against the most highly trained wizards of our generation. What are you going to do about that?"

She sighed and leaned her forehead against his. "I don’t know," she whispered. "I don’t know."

~*~*~

Remus headed towards the shack but stopped as it came into view. His loathing for the place slowed his feet and made him reluctant to go closer. Pull yourself together, he thought, making himself move forward. This is still the best solution, for now. He took out his wand and began to repair the splintered wood and re-cast the spells that would contain his wolf inside the building. "Resarcio!" A bleak place, in which to spend so much of my time. "Contineo!" But is it any worse than Azkaban for an eternity? Perhaps I should inquire of Sirius how his imprisonment is going. "Fixit!" A bite - the work of a moment, so long ago, and here I am, in the middle of the woods repairing my own damned prison. Jabbing his wand toward a rafter, he used a slightly stronger spell than he intended, then watched with disgust as the wood disintegrated under the force of the mending.

By the time he had finished, his arms ached and he felt drained, the work having taken more out of him than he expected. Remus slowly trekked back to town, shivering as the wind caught his robes. Back at the inn, he shrugged off his cloak and headed straight to the fire, to settle down in one of the comfortable armchairs with a contented sigh. One of the kitchen girls had hurried from the room at his appearance, and came back with a shepherd’s pie and some mulled wine, which she set before him. He had just closed his eyes, savoring the odors of cinnamon and rosemary, when he was startled by a shriek. Malhereuse flapped to the back of Viviane’s chair, having dropped a gravely wounded mouse on the book she had been reading.

Remus grinned as Viviane jumped up and gingerly took the mouse by the tail, alternating her gaze between the squirming rodent and the falcon. "Er, Malhereuse, no thanks." She gave the creature back to her pet and flicked bits of mouse gore from the margins of the page. Remus could swear he heard the falcon emit an annoyed huff before he took flight into a corner to consume his meal. Viviane, hearing Remus chuckle, turned to him, glowering. "Wipe that grin off your face. I’m still getting used to being offered half-dead creatures to consume." She wandered over and curled up on a small sofa near him. "Did your work go well?"

"Well enough. We’ll find out in a few weeks."

Viviane hunched her shoulders. "I suppose."

Remus eyed her surreptitiously as he finished his dinner and acted absorbed in the Daily Prophet. She needs something to get her out of this funk. Well, I know one thing that might do it. He took the last bite of his meal and stood up, holding a hand out to Viviane. "Come on, let’s get ready."

She looked up at him. "Ready? For what?"

"We’re going to go for a few drinks down at the Bleeding Hart. I think we could both use a change of scenery. So come on."

"But Remus-"

"No argument," he said, and pulled her to her feet. "We’re going."

~*~*~

After stopping in her own room for her cloak, Viviane collected Remus for their trip to the pub. On his way out, he grabbed a small wooden box from his nightstand.

"What’s that?" Viviane asked. "Something to ward off anybody who might want to talk to you?"

"Nope. A little device I invented last year, which I’ve only just now been able to use." He opened the box and Viviane saw a collection of small, silvery spheres.

"Consurgo!" Remus commanded and the little balls rose into the air and hovered at face level.

"Pretty, Remus, but what are they?"

"Practice targets. Many of the Defense spells that I’ve been teaching involve very precise wand work, and I’ve found that precision is sorely lacking. So…." He backed up and sent a Reductor Curse towards one of the balls, which fell to the ground with a tinny exclamation of ‘beginner’s luck!’ and rolled into a corner.

Viviane nodded, impressed. "Useful," she said, picking up the sphere and handing it to Remus, who gave it a satisfied toss before returning it to the box.

"Are you going to teach a Defense lesson to the rowdies in the pub?"

Remus grinned. "No. But I bet I can lure a few of the drunken fools into a game of target practice. I could use some extra cash."

Viviane chuckled. "Poker is more my style, but I’ll keep an eye on your progress. Come along, time to fleece the hapless."

She’s looking better already, Remus thought, as they exited into the crisp winter evening and headed down the empty street to their disreputable destination.

Her cheeks were flushed and she was smiling to herself as she stepped quickly among the ruts and deep holes in the muddy road. Remus smothered a grin. She’s already planning on some kind of trouble. I can’t wait to see what it is.

When they entered the Bleeding Hart, Viviane glanced around the room and nudged Remus, nodding towards a dark corner of the pub. "I guess Emma finally got a night off," Viviane whispered, and Remus was amused to see Zeke sitting with the pretty innkeeper, his arm around her shoulders as he whispered into her ear. Viviane walked over to a table where several wizards were holding a poker game. Remus lingered at the bar long enough to see her acquire a gin and tonic and get dealt into a hand, then took up his ale and headed to the back room, where darts whizzed toward several boards ranged along the back wall. Remus sidled up to one of spectators, a rough-looking wizard in rusty black robes and thick dragonhide boots.

"How’s your aim with a wand?" Remus inquired casually.

The man eyed Remus suspiciously. "Why do you want to know?"

Remus took out his box of spheres, and commanded them to rise. The dart games came to a halt as witches and wizards turned to stare at the softly glowing objects hovering in the dimness of the room. "They’re used for target practice," Remus explained. "Anybody up for a little competition?"

~*~*~

A few hours and many drinks later, the pockets of Remus’ robes were well filled with gold, and a group of disgruntled witches and wizards were eyeing him with a combination of respect and resentment. Finally, a witch with soft features and a head full of frizzy blonde hair stepped forward. "I’ll challenge you, wizard."

Remus made a courteous gesture, inviting her to go first. "And may I ask the name of my fair challenger?" he queried.

"Oh no, you first," she said, stepping back. "My name is Richenda, handsome Mr. Lupin. We’re happy to see you out in the world for a change."

Remus raised an eyebrow and smiled. "Keeping an eye out for me, eh? Should I be afraid? Or are you afraid of me?"

The witch grinned at him. "No chance of that. Although I heard you’ve been teaching some of our fine citizens advanced Defense spells. I already know more than a few, but a fine young man like yourself might know how to persuade me to learn some other things."

Remus laughed. "Come to my next class and find out if you like my teaching methods."

He raised his wand to shoulder level and despite several drinks and a slight reel in his step, almost casually blasted all ten spheres in turn.

"Beginnersluck,nearlymissed,luckyshot,Iletyouhitme,bigdumbwizard,talentlessgit,uglierthanMerlin’sarmpit,overconfidentdweeb,bloodyhell,DAMN."

Remus waved them back into the air and the witch stepped forward.

Nine times, she unerringly hit the targets, but, the crowd holding its collective breath, missed the final one. The murmuring of the crowd grew louder, and the wizard Remus had first encountered stepped up to him, his voice menacing. "Just what are those things, my fine laddie," he growled. "Funny how you’re the only one here who can hit them all."

The spectators began to nod in agreement, especially the ones whose pockets were lighter than before, and suddenly Reductor Curses much stronger than those used for the game began to ricochet around the room. Remus Stunned the wizard who’d confronted him first, swept his targets into their box and hastily left the room just as the wall between it and the main bar began to crumble, weakened by the curses it had absorbed. Running past Viviane’s table, he grabbed her by the arm, hauling her out of her seat, and dragging her to the door.

"Come on," he panted. "We need to get out of here."

"Remus," Viviane groused. "I was winning." A dust cloud rolled out from the far side of the bar. "Uh oh, what did you do?" She began to cough as the wall collapsed in a heap of bricks and plaster.

As they hurried down the street, they heard shouts and footsteps coming after them, and Viviane and Remus increased their pace until the noises died away.

Viviane pulled Remus down the alley and up a recessed set of steps leading to the door of an abandoned building. The damp and dirty walls on either side sheltered them from sight, and the decrepit roof gave them some protection from the rain. Taking out her wand, she dried the top step and sat down. "We’d better wait here a while. You don’t want to meet Douglas after taking out a wall of his pub."

Remus sat down next to her. "You know him?"

Viviane eyed him mockingly. "One of my more reluctant clients."

Remus conjured up some handfire and then used a Levitation Charm to send it hovering over their heads. "Good idea, to sit here a while. I need to sober up before I go to bed, anyway."

Giving him a mischievous grin, Viviane announced, "I’ve finally done it. My bad influence has culminated in this – public drunkenness, con games, and destruction of property. Not to mention hiding out in neglected doorways." She looked up at the roof of their shelter, which smelled of rotting wood, and was dripping cold water onto their heads.

Remus looked over at her, and his expression grew serious. "Oh Viv, you can’t know what you’ve meant to me in the past months. I hate how defeated you seem since I recovered from my last disastrous transformation. I’m so happy to see some life back in you."

Her eyes had grown wide at his grave tone, and as she looked into his she saw more tenderness in them than she had yet encountered in another person.

"Oh," she whispered, and leaning forward, placed her lips against his. Remus froze, then began to respond to her kiss tentatively, almost imperceptively leaning towards her.

At the point where the kiss should have become more passionate, Viviane’s lips hardened and her shoulders began to shake with laughter. It set him off, and the two of them broke apart and doubled over with mirth, rocking back and forth on the step.

"Oh, oh Remus, I am so sorry," gasped Viviane. But- but-" She took a deep breath. "You’re a gorgeous, loveable, infinitely wonderful man. But as you may have noticed, I like bad boys. You are, er, too nice to be sexy." Viviane, embarrassed, had only glanced fitfully at Remus, but she finally caught his full expression.

"You’re relieved, you ungallant wizard!" she exclaimed, slapping him on the shoulder.

Remus finally managed to control his laugher long enough to speak. "Well, yes. Viviane you are – you are larger than life, in many ways. You’d run right over a normal mortal like myself if we ever, well, you know…."

He put an arm around her shoulder and pulled her close. "But I do love you Viv, and I care so much about what may happen to you."

She pulled away and eyed him warily. "Remus, what do you expect from me?" she burst out. "I don’t understand."

"I expect nothing, except the continuation of our friendship." He playfully took up her hand and kissed it. "Does that suit you, my lady?"

She took his hand in both of hers. "Yes, of course." Her hands tightened. "This is so weird," she said with a short laugh. "Really weird," she said, laughing harder, "but our friendship has been the most wonderful thing that has happened to me. I would be thrilled to have it continue as it has been, if you can stand it."

Remus grinned at her, shaking his damp bangs out of his face. "I wouldn’t change a thing."

~*~*~

The next morning, Viviane was ensconced in Mortimer’s favorite chair, cleaning the blade of her sword.

"…the wall collapsed and you should have seen the look on Douglas’ face. The scowl he assumes when I’m trying to prise a little more money out of him was nothing to that. Then Remus comes barreling out of the back room and grabs me right out of a poker game – and I had an unbelievable hand-"

"Remus?" queried Mortimer with a grin. "Didn’t know he had it in him. And after all that, you’re up early? You look like you’ve been out already."

"It was a personal errand. The woman put up a decent fight at first, but she made the stupid mistake of using up all of her remaining energy in one Stunning Spell. That left her completely vulnerable-"

"Mmm," grunted Mortimer, staring pointedly at the pile of dried blood flakes accumulating on his carpet. "My concern is your energy. Do you have enough to make it to Liverpool and back tomorrow?"

Viviane rolled her eyes. "Easily. What do you think I am, a coddled Ministry mistress? I-"

Damon sauntered in and deposited some powdered ants and ground newt liver on the desk. "I’m back from my visit to the London traders. Seventy-five Galleons for the lot. Sometimes I’m better than even I think. By the way, Mort, all those exotic orders from a single source in London – he’s just a youngster. I tagged along with Belinda to make the exchange and you’ve never seen such an arrogant, greasy-haired git. From the stuff he was ordering, I thought he’d be some poisonous old crackpot. Then I had to fight through quite a crowd to get back here. That gaggle of Aurors have somebody surrounded out there, that owlkeeper, Felix, I think. The idiot came back to town, knowing that they were after him. Serves him right for being so dumb."

Mortimer made a grab at Viviane as she rushed past him and out the door. "Viviane! Viviane, stay here! Stay away from those Aurors, girl-" He followed her out of the office and watched her disappear through the front door of the inn. "Impossible, absolutely impossible," he growled and returned to his business.

The four Aurors were gathered around the hapless Felix, when Viviane came charging into their midst. Taking the lot of them by complete surprise, she grabbed the shopkeeper’s arm and hustled him into the maze of alleys behind the main street. "Why did you come back, you stupid man?" she hissed, running at top speed, tugging him along with her. They scrambled down crooked pathways and ducked behind buildings as he mumbled about unfinished business and hidden assets. Viviane cut him off with a gesture, pausing at the junction of two narrow, filthy streets. The crumbling buildings leaned over them, shutting out the mild winter light. Like everything else in Shipley, their facades showed years of neglect; the spells that once held the joists and sills and shutters firmly in place were fading, making everything droop at the corners, bricks huddling against once proud doorframes in a desperate attempt at keeping up appearances. Viviane glanced around, looking for somewhere to hide.

"Where to go, which way…" she murmured. The infuriated voices of the Aurors ricocheted off the walls, not giving Viviane a clue about the direction from which they were coming.

She spotted an archway that seemed to lead into nothing but darkness, and, dragging Felix behind her began to run toward it. A sudden pain hit the small of her back and ripped through her like the physical embodiment of a Banshee cry. It brought her to her knees, her fingers slipping from Felix’ arm as she passed out.

Viviane awoke to the none-too-gentle prodding of a boot toe. She stared up at the four Aurors staring down at her, Moody with a particularly satisfied grin on his face. Finally Zeke said, "Viviane, I know you have problems with the use of Dementors. But you have absolutely no authority here and no real knowledge of this case."

"Zeke. Felix – he was coerced, he told me-" She struggled to stand, one hand on her back where the curse had hit. How did we get back to the main street? "Where is he?"

Moody tugged the bound Felix forward. "Right here. You’ve lost this round, Chance, so run along like a good girl-"

Viviane hissed, "Do not patronize me, you gutter-"

"Expelliarmus!" Moody had her wand out of her belt before she could reach for it, and he caught it with a sneer. "Remus isn’t here to drag you upstairs before you get killed, so you’d better bugger off on your own." He jerked his head in the direction of the inn, but had time for nothing else as Viviane drew her sword. As they stared at each other, the loathing between them filled the air like sullen thunder, and everyone grew silent, some spectators edging away from the duo, to slip into a nearby pub.

"Just try something, girl, go ahead. Do your worst," Moody rasped. "I’m not afraid to pit my wand against that sword of yours, no matter what spells you may have cast on it. The Ministry won’t ask a single question when I kill you in self-defense."

Zeke held out an arm. "Wait, no. This has gone far enough. Alastor, look out, she’s-"

Viviane lunged at Moody with a defiant shriek. As she did, Zeke threw himself between them and in the resulting melee all three were taken to the ground.

Stunned, they lay there together for some seconds, before Alastor and Viviane stood up carefully, inspecting themselves for wounds while backing away from each other. At the same moment, both realized that Zeke hadn’t moved. They stared down at him, mesmerized by the blood flowing from a massive wound in his side and the glazed look in his staring eyes.

Moody dropped down to his knees beside his friend. "Zeke – Zeke?" His hands groped at the wound, vainly trying to close it as the blood oozed through his fingers. "Zeke? Hold on. Please, hold on-"

Annabel knelt beside him and wrapped her fingers around Zeke’s wrist, then put an arm around Moody. "Alastor, I’m afraid- I’m afraid we can do nothing for him."

"No, if we can just get a healer." Moody looked around frantically for Vince, who had already Apparated.

"It’s too late. He’s dead." Annabel got to her feet and looked at Viviane, who had backed up in shock, her sword falling from her limp hand.

"Oh no. No. I didn’t mean – I didn’t want-"

Moody scrambled upright and pointing his wand, bound Viviane tightly from shoulders to waist as Vince reappeared with Anthony Scipio in tow. The healer knelt and after a few seconds shook his head. "I’m sorry, he’s gone. He lost too much blood far too fast – even an immediate Staunching Spell couldn’t have saved him." He got to his feet and glared at Viviane. "This doesn’t surprise me, and wouldn’t even concern me overmuch, but I am sorry for Remus’ sake. He’ll miss you after the Dementors are done with their task."

Viviane, blinking and gasping for air, murmured, "Remus…"

Moody glowered at the crowd gathering around. "Annabel, take Zeke out of here, away from these people and…and clean him up. I’ll be back as soon as I’ve tossed her in the local holding cell." He indicated the sword lying in the road. The hilt, formed by entwined, silver serpents was still rocking gently, the emeralds in the eyes of the serpents still glittering through dust. "And nobody touch that thing. Who knows what sort of curses she’s put on it. Vince, stand guard over it, will you?" Moody reached around Viviane and unbuckled her swordbelt, handing it to Vince. "Here. Keep this, too. Try and charm the sword back into the scabbard without getting hurt." Vince, face white and eyes wide with shock, nodded.

Moody turned to Viviane and took up the end of the ropes that bound her. He dragged her to what had once been a Muggle gaol, through the doorway decorated with scales and blind women, not stopping when she stumbled and fell on the threshold. He simply tugged her prone body across the wooden floor. "Aren’t there any Dementors around?" he demanded as he entered the building, staring at the man behind the desk.

"’Morning, Moody. In this town? Are you joking? No, I’ll have to send to the Ministry for a few. Sorry about the primitive conditions, but the original cells have been strengthened with the most advanced containment spells. No Apparating or Dissolving spells for her!" the man said proudly as he flung open the old-fashioned, barred door. "By the way, what’s she done? Finally got caught running Mort’s errands, eh?" the man laughed.

Moody carelessly picked her up and tossed her onto the cell’s floor, grunting with satisfaction as her head smashed into the concrete.

"Murdered an Auror," Moody replied. "I just need you to hold her while I get some Ministry people down to give her a proper trial."

The gaoler gazed at Viviane, shocked. "Her? She killed an Auror?"

"Murdered Zeke Forrester, the damned bitch. I’ll be back." He turned to Viviane. "Enjoy your stay – and your soul, while it’s still in your body." The Auror hurried off, leaving the gaoler to close the door and take out his wand to unbind Viviane. "I always knew you were trouble," the man said as he turned to leave. "Mort will have to find a new enforcer. Can’t say I pity him." His footsteps receded to the front office.

Viviane remained on the floor, her head aching, and stared blankly at the crude wooden ceiling, stained with mold and moisture. A drip of icy water fell on her neck and slid down her collarbone, but she was too stunned to bother wiping it away. Somehow, on this rather normal day, events that had threatened to spin out of control for many weeks had done so, and Viviane was unprepared to grapple with the consequences. She forced herself to relax, running through her options. "What options? I don’t have any," she told herself. She closed her eyes. You’ve done it now. The last of the Devereaux ends here, in a wretched cell, in a wretched town, after killing a man who did not deserve to die. This isn’t what I meant to happen, even in my most destructive moments. She lay there for what seemed like hours, afraid to move, certain that it would somehow get worse if she did. Then she heard footsteps approaching her cell.

"Viviane. Oh Viviane-"

She opened her eyes and slid them sideways to see Remus pressed against the bars of the cell, despair in his face. Viviane closed her eyes again. "Please, Remus, don’t make this any worse than it is. Go away."

"I can’t ‘go away’ Viv. Come here and tell me what the hell happened. I know you didn’t mean to kill Zeke, so how did he end up dead?"

Viviane brought her hands up and covered her face, the horror of the memory still fresh for her. "It happened so fast. He got in the way – it was Moody I was after. I don’t know if I cut him, or if he ran into my blade, or, or what. But the end result is he – an Auror – is dead, and I’m bound to be food for – "

She scrambled to her feet and to the barrier, her hands desperately grasping for his. "Remus, you must promise me something. Promise me that if this comes to trial, I’ll be dead before I step into that court. Please. I’ll be sure to be found guilty and I can’t bear the thought of wandering soulless through eternity-"

"Viviane, I can’t kill you-"

"Then get Mort to find someone. He’s got plenty of associates that will be happy to take my life for a few Galleons."

Remus looked into her panic-stricken face and his lips set into a hard line.

"I’m not going to sit around while you’re caged in here. Don’t give up quite yet. Surely there is someone who saw what happened, who saw it was self-defense. Annabel or Vince-"

"Are not about to help me. And nobody else was around. Felix is a Death Eater and won’t be allowed to testify. Remus, we’re outnumbered."

He tightened his already painful grasp on her fingers and drew a shaky breath. "I don’t care. We’ll fight this with whatever we have. I won’t see another friend- Viviane, I’ll be back with more information, soon." He turned away, streaks of rust on his robes where he had pressed against the bars, and Viviane shut her eyes as his footsteps receded down the empty corridor.

~*~*~

Remus slammed into his room, trying to catch his breath. "Damn her. Damn her. How could she do this?" He sat on his bed and pressed his hands to his temples. A vision of a Dementor bearing down on a chained Viviane made him stand up and his hand knocked the box of practice targets off of his dresser. He bent down slowly to pick it up and stared at it, then threw it across the room with a wordless shout. The box hit the opposite wall and shattered, the spheres rolling silently to all corners of the room. He turned around and, finding no other missiles, ripped the sheets off of his bed and tossed the pillows across the room. He was just preparing to attack his dresser drawers when he heard a timid knock on the door. Emma slid into the room and stood just inside, her tearstained face wearing a look of disbelief.

"How could she, Remus – Zeke put up with all of her nonsense – and she killed him. Killed him…" Emma slumped against the door. Remus folded her in an embrace, then slid his hands down to clasp her hands. "I’m sorry, Emma, by all the gods I am so sorry, but I will not let Viviane face a Dementor. I won’t, do you understand?" She looked up, fearful, at the grim tone in Remus’ voice, and winced at the steel in the hands that gripped hers. The coldness in his eyes was made more frightening by the harsh lines that leapt to prominence in his usually gentle, if sardonic, face.

Emma silently moved aside, then followed Remus out of his room. He could feel her gaze on his back as he reset the Guard Spells, and she ventured a whisper as he passed by her on his way downstairs. "Be careful, Remus."

He turned back to look at her, his wand grasped firmly in his hand. "I have every intention of being so," he said, walking away.

Approaching the door to Mortimer’s office, Remus Stunned Damon into an unconscious heap and strode into the inner chamber. The smuggler rose from his massive chair placed before the fire, wand in hand. "Bold of you, Lupin," he remarked. "Be glad I don’t have a fast wand. If you’re here about that stupid wench of a Frenchwoman, leave. I will have nothing more to do with her."

Remus walked over and leaned against the desk, staring down at his feet before replying. "Mortimer, Viviane did very good business for you. You owe-"

"I owe her nothing," snarled Mortimer. "Do you have any idea how much time and effort I expended to train her, to look after her, to clean up her infernal messes-" he broke off and turned away, bracing both arms against the mantelpiece, and staring down at the hearth. "I told her – begged her – to stay clear of those Aurors, to use her talents for business and not that crazy quest she -. Get out," he stormed, turning away from the fire. "Just get out. And don’t come in here again, unless you want to lose a limb."

Remus slowly stood upright. "Viviane can be difficult at the best of times. But although she won’t tell me the details, I get the feeling she managed to survive the worst even Voldemort could throw at her. Yet she’s retained enough will and spirit to single-handedly pursue his followers while forging a new life for herself. Can you bear to see all of that sucked away by a Dementor? I know you have – connections – influence…." He took a deep breath and was about to continue, but Mortimer stopped him with a wave. "Remus, I can do nothing," he said and sat back down to resume his contemplation of the fire.

~*~*~

Viviane turned and sat on the iron frame and thin mattress that served as a bed. It will be difficult, trying to sleep on this wretched cot, tonight, and I need all the rest I can get to fight as hard as I can, later. Her conversation with Remus had reawakened her survival instincts, but bereft of both sword and wand, she felt completely helpless. I must find someone to teach me how to work magic without them, she thought. I will not let myself become trapped and helpless again, as I am now. Viviane leaned her head back against the damp wall and closed her eyes. Who am I trying to fool? I won’t be learning anything, unless I learn it in the next three days. The Ministry will be here by then and I’ll bet Moody makes sure the trial is fast. She began to shake and, irritated at her lack of control, she tried to pace off her nervousness. Devereaux do not quake at being thrown into a cell. Wait until something really awful happens. She paused, the awful reason for her present position forcing itself back into her mind. Zeke, I never meant to-

She began to pace faster as she remembered his blood seeping into the cold dust of the road, forming a loathsome, dark red paste.

-but I didn’t think you’d get in the way. My sword – where is my sword? Probably in its scabbard, if they’re smart.

I cannot let them take my soul. Viviane refused to touch the bars of the cell, refused to acknowledge the borders of her current confinement. How dare they, she thought, how dare they, her fists clenched. She forcibly unclenched them but was careful not to extend her fingers in an attitude of supplication, alone as she was. A Devereaux would never do such a thing. She lowered herself back onto her bed.

~*~*~

After leaving Mortimer’s office, Remus set out again for the gaol, and the sight of its begrimed walls and narrow windows, accompanied by the dank smell of mold, made him pause at the threshold, despite his worry for Viviane. During that first visit, earlier in the day, he had been so shocked and horrified by events that he hadn’t taken notice of the dismal building. He took a deep breath, opened the door and nodded to the gaoler behind the desk. "Good day, Dennis. I’m going to see Viviane Chance." The man nodded back and gestured down the hallway. "She’s still there."

Remus walked up to the bars of Viviane’s cell, but at first he could not bring himself to speak and just stood there, staring at his friend. The young witch was sitting on her mattress, unaware of his presence. Remus, watching her, shivered. She’d released her hair from the binding spell that Emma had taught her, and the dark mass that would have made most women look younger and more vulnerable struck Remus as a sign of the unbridled power simmering within her. He saw it less frequently now, but he was certain that Moody, like every other person Viviane antagonized almost without thinking, was struck by that power as if by the flat of her sword.

The impression was reinforced when Viviane noticed him standing there and rose to her feet. Even caged, he thought, she moves with the grace of the privileged and the freedom of one who has nothing to lose.

She said nothing, but just looked at him, green eyes calm but with a dangerous glint lurking on the surface.

"Viviane, I’m afraid you’re stuck here, for the moment. The Aurors are, er, are taking Zeke back home, for burial. The trial will begin when they return, which will be within the week."

"My sword-"

"Moody has it, and your wand."

She sighed and turned away, but stood quietly, then twisted her head around to look at him again.

"I assume you’ve found what I told you was true. No witnesses, and Mort-"

"Er, yes."

"Well, there we are. Goodnight, Remus." She resumed the attitude he found her in, and withdrew into herself so far that it resembled trance.

"Viviane. Viv, please-" Remus began, but she made no sign that she heard him.

Remus walked to the front of the building and found the gaoler deep in perusal of the London Weekly Spyglass.

"Dennis, how are things going? You haven’t been to class in the past week-"

The man looked up with a grin. "Hey there, Remus. As you know, I’ve been busy. If she-" he jerked his head in the direction of Viviane’s cell, "were to escape, it would be as much as my life was worth, the way Moody took on."

Remus looked uncomfortable. "I do have a favor to ask. I – I would like to spend some time with Viviane, in her cell. I’ll leave my wand with you. Please, just for half an hour. She’s in a bad way, and Moody wouldn’t like it if she’d lost her mind before he had a chance to try her publicly."

"That one, lose her mind? She’s as tough as they come, and I’ve seen some hard criminals in my time."

"Dennis, just come back with me for a moment." Remus took the gaoler’s arm and led him to where Viviane sat, unmoving and unresponsive to Remus calling her name.

Dennis gave Remus a look expressing worry and faint suspicion, but accepted the wand Remus held out to him and unlocked the door, carefully relocking it after Remus stepped through. "Thank you," Remus whispered.

"Thirty minutes, and you’re done here," Dennis said, and turned to walk back to the office.

Remus stood for a moment, looking at the silent witch. Then, in one swift movement, he strode to the bed, lifted her in his arms, and sat back down, cradling her in his lap. He buried his face in her hair and his arms tightened around her, rocking gently. She made no resistance, but her body remained rigid for a moment before she finally curled into him, hiding her face in his chest. Viviane did not cry, but she began to tremble uncontrollably. Remus could no longer pretend he had a solution, so he merely smoothed down her tangled hair and used the short time they had to offer what comfort he could.

"Time." Dennis stood there, beckoning Remus to the gate. Reluctantly, Remus loosened his hold on Viviane and tilted her face towards his. "I’ll keep trying to get you out of here, I promise."

The corners of her mouth moved, but the smile never materialized and she said, "If you are unsuccessful – if you can’t – then promise me you’ll do what I asked, before." Remus started to protest, but the desperation in her eyes stopped his refusal before he could voice it. He simply slid from under her and gave her hands a squeeze and a kiss before being ushered out of the cell.

~*~*~

Mortimer walked across the foyer of Cornelius Fudge’s office and watched, amused, as the demeanor of the secretary collapsed from officiousness into nervousness. The man glanced at Mort and went to press a button on the desk, only to be stopped by Mortimer’s unyielding fingers wrapped around his hand.

"None of that. No calling the guards to have me removed, this time. I’ve come to collect a little favor that your boss knows he owes to me. The longer I wait, the greater the interest grows. Now, tell him I’m here."

The secretary cleared his throat and hit the intercom. "Mortimer….er….Mortimer is here."

After a silence that, even over the intercom, was obviously of the appalled variety, Fudge’s voice came back. "Let him in."

The junior minister was ensconced behind a huge mahogany desk, so devoid of paperwork that there was plenty of surface available to admire the richness of the wood. Mortimer sat on it.

"So, Cornelius, no tea, no biscuits, no drop of Old Ogdens? I’m disappointed by your lack of manners," he said, adjusting the set of his perfectly tailored, dark blue robes.

"What are you doing here," hissed Fudge, his scarlet face clashing with his bright violet outfit. "You could compromise my position if the wrong person caught sight of you-"

"No doubt. A pity you ignored my summons."

Fudge got up from his desk and walked around to face the smuggler. "I was just about to come-" he pleaded.

"Now means now, Cornelius," Mortimer interrupted. "You made a fortune on that illegal shipment of scorpion stings I gave you the tip about. Now I’ve got a small favor to ask in return."

Fudge began to tremble and, reaching for a rock crystal sneakoscope on his desk, began to roll it nervously back and forth between his palms. "What…how much…."

Mortimer flared his nostrils in contempt and stood up. "Oh, don’t worry, there will be no monetary sacrifice on your part. Just your signature."

The minister dropped his sneakoscope in surprise, which bounced off of the deep carpeting and rolled under a chair. ‘My signature?"

"On a pardon. I need a pardon sent to the gaoler at Shipley, to free a woman by the name of Viviane Chance."

"May I ask what she has done, before I pardon her?"

Mortimer began to laugh, and slapped Fudge on the back so hard that the little man’s knees buckled. "You’ll appreciate this. She killed an Auror-"

"An Auror?" gasped Fudge. "You’re asking me to pardon-"

"She’s also sent a goodly number of Death Eaters out of the world. Surely you appreciate that. I hear they’re becoming troublesome, especially that Malfoy-"

Fudge had begun to pace, and in a burst of rage knocked a stack of papers off a credenza. "He’s bleeding me dry, the bastard." Fudge screeched. "He’ll be the ruin of me, if he isn’t stopped-"

Mortimer raised an eyebrow at the irate man and walked to the door. "I’ll be outside. I want to see the pardon sent off before I leave, so get to it."

Fudge snatched a blank form from a bin on the credenza, and, sitting back down at his desk, began to fill it out.

~*~*~

Viviane awoke with a start and glanced, puzzled, at the bars of her cell. Oh yes, in gaol, three days now, and waiting for a trial and a Dementor’s Kiss. She sat up and pushed back her hair as she heard Remus’ footsteps sounding along the hall. Viviane looked up, eyebrows raised, as he appeared, pale but grinning broadly, and waving a letter. The gaoler, looking distinctly unhappy, followed close behind.

"Pardoned," Remus shouted. "Viviane, you’ve been pardoned."

Stunned, Viviane just stared. "Pardoned? How? Why? And who pardoned-"

As the gaoler released the locks on the cell, Remus flung the door open and they caught each other around the waist, Viviane resting her forehead on Remus’ shoulder and hugging him close to support her trembling knees. Remus clasped her to him with one hand and smoothed her hair with the other. "Viv, I can’t believe this either." He consulted the paper in his hand. "It’s signed by some Ministry official named Fudge. I’ve heard of him, I think-"

They were interrupted by the gaoler clearing his throat. "Since you somehow wrangled that pardon, please get out of my gaol. I don’t feel like scraping what little would remain of you off of my floor, should Moody hear about this before you leave."

~*~*~

Viviane walked quietly into Mortimer’s office and stood, shifting from foot to foot and examining her nails, just beyond the threshold.

"Mortimer? I did not expect…thank-"

"I suggest you leave." The smuggler did not rise from his chair, but continued to peruse the document he was holding. "Soon. Today." He stood and faced her, his eyes expressionless. "I don’t know what you’re thanking me for. But if you’re grateful for being able to stand here, you will disappear from this town. Your life’s not worth a handful of Knuts if you stay, so get out."

He sank back down and picked up a nearby book. Viviane, dismissed, backed out of the room and into the short hallway leading to the common room. She leaned against the wall. Mort. You’ll always be a bastard, but a decent bastard at heart. I’ve enjoyed working with you. She straightened up and made sure Emma was not in sight before making her way upstairs to her room, thinking, At least Moody is still in Ireland, burying Zeke. It gives me some time. And Emma – I simply cannot face her. She squeezed her eyes shut for a moment as she stopped outside her room, chastened by the memory of all Emma had done for her.

Opening the door, she found Remus standing by the bed. "You’ve been missing this, I think," he said and held out her sword. Viviane stopped so quickly that her body swayed. Her eyes widened and she whispered, "How-"

"Oh, I pulled a little glamour and switch while Moody was busy making, er, arrangements for the trial and to – to – for Zeke. Siri-" He swallowed hard, and continued. "Sirius and I used this trick quite often, to get hold of forbidden objects. We got very good at it – good enough to fool McGonagall, so I knew I could pull it off on Moody, given all the confusion. I wanted to tell you I had it, but thought it best not to mention anything about it in the gaol – who knows what sort of listening spells are installed there?"

Viviane had been staring at the sword, barely listening to Remus’ explanation, then finally walked to where Remus was standing. She slid her hands under the scabbard, weighing it, a perplexed frown on her face. "I have missed this. And yet, its absence was also strangely liberating…" The object lay across her palms, but she made no gesture of possession.

Remus bent forward, but could not interpret the memories flashing through her eyes.

"This was sent by your father, and I am to offer it to you," Headmaster Gerard said, his formal manner tinged by something even more solemn. He reached behind his desk and held out an object, resting it across the palms of his outspread arms. Viviane took a step forward, then tilted her head in surprise as she recognized what the Headmaster was offering to her.

"But – but that is Monsieur’s sword. My father’s sword. He needs it! The Dark Power…" her voice trailed off and she reached one tentative hand towards the worn leather scabbard, then paused, her green eyes looking up into his black ones.

"Is he dead?"

The man looked down at her with rare sympathy. "No, my child, he is not, but…" He sighed and bit his lip. "I don’t know if I can make you understand."

"He will be, if he is not already, and he knows it." Viviane spoke calmly and ran her long fingers down the length of the scabbard, but did not make a move to take the weapon. "And so my inheritance comes to me now, at the wrong time and definitely in the wrong place." Her nostrils flared. "Monsieur will be pleased. I will no longer be able to forget that I am bound to this, " - she flicked the leather – "and not to the world of books. Research. Aquitaine. Does that please you as well, Headmaster Gerard?"

The venerable wizard’s sharp face softened the least bit as he regarded the girl. "The world of books and learning – Aquitaine – will not exist for much longer unless this Dark Power is stopped. Hogwarts has refused to help us, and we stand alone. Mademoiselle Devereaux, this sword was sent to you for many reasons, including your own protection, and ours. Do you truly think you can escape your birthright?" He held it out to her again, and this time she curled her fingers around the hilt and accepted the burden.

She refocused on Remus and bared her teeth in a slight snarl.

"Yes, it is not a thing to be accepted lightly, no matter who offers it."

She seemed to come to a decision and her fingers closed around the scabbard.

Remus retained his grasp. "Are you sure, Viviane?" he asked. "Perhaps you are better off-"

An elf burst into the room, grabbing at Remus’ robes, eyes wide in fear.

"Welty? Has something happened to Anthony?"

"Oh, Master Remus, you must flee! Quickly, Master Anthony says, because there is a crowd of bad people, bad people with sticks-"

Viviane blew out the candles and swept past the elf to the window, hastily buckling her swordbelt around her waist. "Look at all of the torches! A mob! Remus, there’s a mob of people-" Light from the flames flickered off of the wainscot, and the rumble of angry voices soaked through the diamond panes of the window.

"Please, Master Remus, you must go! They are after you-" the elf continued to tug desperately at Remus’ robe.

Viviane’s eyes began to spark and her lip to curl as she grasped her sword hilt. "If Moody is responsible for this-"

Remus’ face was set, but pale. "No, it isn’t Moody’s style at all, and he’s still in Ireland. Someone else must have found out-"

Viviane was pushing him out of the room. "Go! Go to your room and throw what you can in a knapsack. We have to get away from here, and fast." She was already tossing clothing, jewelry and books into a bag.

She was just fastening the clasps when Remus ran back in, carrying a small pack. "Come on, Viv, they’re almost here. We can’t go out the front-"

"The back stairs, Remus, and past the stables to the forest. We can find someplace to hide and decide our next move." Throwing on her black woolen cloak and pulling the deep hood past her face, she hurried down the hall and staircase, Remus close behind her. "Apparating someplace without a lot of thought could land us right in the middle of a nest of Aurors." They paused in front of the door, the shouts of ‘werewolf,’ ‘kill the monster’ and ‘dangerous beast’ drifting faintly through the wood. Viviane tightened her grasp on Remus’ arm and he held her back as he opened the door and peered cautiously out. "They’re still out in front," he whispered. "Come on."

The pair fled across the yard and behind the stables, where Viviane paused. "Our cloaks, our boots," she whispered. "Use the Eradicate Charm so they can’t track us through the snow."

Remus grinned down at her. "Good idea. I forgot, Moody still has your wand." He pulled out his own and charmed away any chance that someone could track them.

As they resumed their flight into the forest, Remus recalled seeing some caves that he’d come across in his hunt for a place to transform. "This way, Viv," he said, heading off in another direction. Taking a deep breath, his acute sense of smell caught the whiff of cold, dry air and a collection of dead leaves, undercut by a faint odor of decay. "Yes, we need to keep going this way – how are you doing?" he queried, peering into Viviane’s hood.

"I’m fine. It’s nice to be in the forest again, after days in that musty cell. And you? Warm enough?"

"I will be, once we find what I’m looking for. Someplace warm, dry, well off the traveled paths, and less than half an hour’s walk."

"Perfect," commented Viviane, then both fell silent, listening for pursuit as they walked quickly through the still, snowy night, dimly lit by a crescent moon.

I should be consumed with worry for Remus, but it feels too good to be walking, free, my sword within reach. I’ll miss Emma, and almost miss Mortimer, but of late Remus and I have encountered nothing but trouble in Shipley. It is time to move on.

She stopped for a moment. And as far away as possible. Moody won’t let a pardon stop him from seeking personal revenge. Viviane shrugged her shoulders impatiently at the dart of fear that passed through her. I’ll go to Europe. Russia. Perhaps even Turkey, or Arabia. It is time to resume my education, and I can find someone there to teach me how to channel magic without a damned wand. A wand. I need a new wand.

Realizing that Remus had outstripped her, she hurried to catch up to him. He turned to her with a smile. "Almost there, Viv."

~*~*~

The cave wasn’t very deep, but it was tall enough for them to sit comfortably and obtain shelter from the snow that continued to fall. A heavy silence fell as the pair, their packs beside them, sat side by side, knees drawn up, against the cave wall. A sphere of dim handfire floated above their heads, flickering against the animal bones and drifts of dead leaves scattered about, and highlighting the occasional snowflake that drifted in from the storm. Their shoulders were sagging and their faces drawn tight from the tension of the past week.

Viviane broke silence first. "We should probably rest here for a while before trying to make a decision on where to Apparate. I’m sorry, Remus, about this-"

He turned to look at her, and Viviane jumped in surprise at his expression. His mouth was set in bitter lines, and there was something deeper than hatred and more potent than fear simmering in his eyes. "You’re sorry? You have nothing to be sorry about, Viviane. Throughout our friendship you’ve conducted yourself gallantly, more so than – than others. I recognized some voices back there…." He slumped back against the wall, leaning his head back against the chill stone.

Viviane grabbed his hands and shook them. "Stop it," she said fiercely. "Stop it. Those idiots, they know nothing of you. It was time we left Shipley, anyway. We need to leave Britain – I know Moody isn’t the type to resort to underhanded methods, but our feud is now personal and he’ll be after me. We need to find somewhere to lie low so I can get my affairs together for a long stay overseas-"

"Viviane, I can’t go with you. I don’t have the means, or the inclination-"

She huffed impatiently. "I have plenty of means, at the moment. We can go to Switzerland, Hungary, Turkey, learn new skills-"

A sound like icicles crashing through leaves made both of them sit up, Viviane reaching for her sword. Malhereuse swooped into the cave in a blast of snow and deposited a wriggling vole at Viviane’s feet, then settled on her shoulder. Viviane’s eyes lit up with the first genuine smile Remus had seen on her since Zeke’s death.

"Oh Malhereuse, I’ve missed you so! Did you have good hunting while I was away?" she crooned, running her palm over the head of the bird.

"He pined for you, Viv. Wouldn’t hunt, wouldn’t fly…I was beginning to fear for him."

Viviane brushed her cheek against the falcon’s wing, then bowed her head, silently beginning to weep.

"Viv?" Remus questioned, astonished at her tears.

"I’m fine, really, give me a minute," she said, her voice muffled as she wiped her face with her cloak. "I’ve just never – oh, Mal –"

Remus crossed his arms and stared at her, amused and appalled. "Viviane, how have you coped, all these years, if the simple love of a pet makes you cry?"

Viviane sniffled and wiped her eyes. "I’ve always been useful – always done my duty and knew there was a place – but have never been really missed – others could have done as well."

He studied her face, with its bold nose and strong jaw, offset by the sensual mouth and expressive, now tear-filled eyes. "So, you’ve survived death and expulsion and exile and poverty, but the thought that you might be worthy of love, even from a falcon or a werewolf, overcomes you." He grasped her chin and turned her face to his. "You are worthy. Don’t make the mistake of assuming you are not."

"I will if you will, Remus." Viviane’s eyes narrowed and her tears disappeared. "Oh, please," she snapped, as she saw his lips tighten and his face set into a good imitation of cold marble. "That crowd back there, they were acting out of impulsive, impersonal fear – they don’t know you. Remus entire, the Dark Creature and the gentleman. You know what you are, and I know you accept it."

"Oh, you know all about it, do you?" Remus challenged her. "Do you know you’re just as screwed up as I am, and you aren’t even a Dark Creature. And thanks for the psychoanalysis."

"Being a werewolf isn’t your problem. Not getting over your losses is. You’ve accepted your other side, at some level, or you would have gone insane by now. But you haven’t accepted the loss of your friends. You can barely bring yourself to say their names. And so you’ve been wandering alone, refusing help, refusing a better life, because in these days and these times, there is no telling when anything we build will be destroyed. Facing that and living in spite of it, takes more courage than facing a mindless mob."

Remus’ gentle brown eyes sharpened. "Perceptive of you, Viv. I never thought you gifted with copious amounts of insight."

"Thanks for the good opinion, Remus," Viviane groused, "Screwed up I may be, but at least I know where the trouble lies."

"You’re so good at swash and buckle. Sometimes I forget about your underused intelligence."

They glared, on the verge of either throttling each other or bursting into laughter. They chose the latter, and Malhereuse rose from picking at the bones of his former meal, alarmed at the noise.

Viviane slid down the wall during her laughing fit and was lying on the floor of the cave, staring up at the dead vines crisscrossing the stony arch of the cave opening. "Where should we go, Remus? We need someplace to hide out and prepare our trip."

Remus slid down beside her. "My place. My parents’ former house, I mean. I don’t use it very often, because it’s in the middle of nowhere. But that would suit us in our current predicament." He turned his head to look at Viviane. "But Viv, I can’t go with you to Europe. Those friends, whose deaths you say I cannot get over – you’re right, I can’t. I’ve still got one, or had one, he’s alive but in Azkaban….and I still don’t know what to think, even though all evidence tells against him. But I knew Sirius, knew him down to his soul and I cannot truly believe he could… You must go, because you’re right about Moody – and I don’t think Annabel or Vince would scruple to kill you either, if they had the opportunity." He closed his eyes. "I wish it hadn’t happened this way."

Viviane took his hand. "Me, too. Remus, you can soul search just as easily in Europe-"

"No, Viviane. I need to stay here, and you can’t change my mind, so stop trying."

She lay there, pouting, for a few moments before asking, "Shall we Apparate in the morning?" A sleepy "Mmm-hmmm" was the only answer she got, so she closed her eyes and was soon fast asleep, Malhereuse standing on alert at the entrance to the cave.

~*~*~

Remus groaned a little as he sat up, his joints sore and his back stiff from a night on the bumpy cave floor. He looked at Viviane, still fast asleep. The girl can fall asleep anywhere, he thought, recalling with amusement Mort’s fury when he’d found her curled up on his desk, indulging in an afternoon nap. And I’m starving. He glanced at Malhereuse, who was busy pushing around dead leaves. "I don’t suppose you’d like to bring back some bread and a sausage or two?" The falcon ignored him. Remus’ glance went back to Viviane, and he took out his wand and backed out of the cave. "Er, rictusempra," he said, pointing his wand at her feet. Viviane woke up with a shriek, and swept her sword out of her scabbard, looking around with wild eyes peering from a mass of untidy hair as she kicked her feet against the ground.

Spotting Remus through the cave entrance, laughing at her, she screamed, "Stop it! Stop it, damn you, or-"

"Reverso," he said, lowering his wand. "Sorry about that, but you’re a dangerous woman to wake."

"You didn’t have to tickle my feet," Viviane complained. "A simple ‘Wake up, Viviane, time for breakfast’ would have sufficed."

"I doubt it. Speaking of breakfast, are you interested in anything besides half-dead rodents? If so, we can Apparate to the village near my house. There’s an inn, and we’d be able to get some eggs and bacon, if not coffee."

"Coffee," sighed Viviane. "I’ll make do with that wretched tea you Brits drink."

Remus took her arm, and with Malhereuse settled on her shoulder, the pair disappeared.

~*~*~

"I’m amazed. You can be charming, if there is a possibility of coffee involved. I think that woman wanted to adopt you."

Viviane stifled a burp and then grinned. "So few people realize what a valuable skill charm can be, effectively applied. She was the one who mentioned French roast, when she heard my accent."

"You certainly hid your charm well during our stay in Shipley. Here we are."

They stopped in front of a simple, two-story house, built of brick with shuttered windows, surrounded by a garden run to waste. Despite the air of neglect, the bricks were sound and the slate roof was in a perfect state of repair. Remus took out his wand and muttered something, then walked to the door. "I’ve kept the place surrounded with protective charms; that’s one less thing we need to do now. At least we’ll know if Moody, or anyone else, attempts to get at you here."

"Mmmm." Viviane scanned the interior as Remus ushered her inside. The room to the left side of the hallway, evidently a parlor, looked like it hadn’t been used in decades, dingy sheets swathing the furniture and walls. Remus turned to the right, where a long dining room had been transformed into a study, of sorts. Books, filing cabinets, papers and assorted pieces of magical equipment were neatly stacked about, and several worn chairs, and a sofa, were grouped about the fire. Tucked into a corner between the fireplace and a window was a bed, heaped with shabby blankets and a few exhausted-looking pillows. As Remus opened and unshuttered a window, Viviane began to sneeze from the whorls of dust that rose from the surfaces of the room, so she set down a bag of groceries and reached for her belt in order to cast a banishing spell on the dust. Then she remembered that her wand wasn’t there.

"Remus, where do you buy wands in Britain? I don’t think I’ll get mine back from Moody, anytime soon."

Remus turned toward her and the amusement in his eyes made hers narrow suspiciously. "What?"

"Ollivander’s, in Diagon Alley." He began to chuckle. "Merlin’s beard, I’d love to be a witness to that scene, but one of us risking our neck in London is enough. You’ll have to keep the lowest of profiles, and I know too many people there who would ask me too many questions." He sighed. "And do avoid the Leaky Cauldron. You’d get in trouble as soon as you passed the threshold. Oh, and Gringotts – the London branch is in Diagon Alley, next to – Viviane, have you heard a word I just said?"

She was busy flipping through the books in the shelves that took up one entire wall of the room, and eyeing the pile of notebooks, cauldrons and star charts that were heaped on the table. "Hmmm, yes? Ollivander’s. Got it. Remus, who was the Arithmancy expert?"

Remus smiled and walked over to her, taking the book from her hands. "My father. Yes, this was one of his favorites. He used to try and read it aloud to my mother and I, but listening to odes on Arithmancy after a full meal-"

Viviane grimaced. "Sounds almost as bad as lectures on 12th century battle strategy. What’s this? Some kind of weapon?" She picked up a silver object with two arms on a hinge, one arm sharp and pointed. Remus took it from her. "No, that’s a compass. Father collected Muggle mathematical instruments."

"And the star charts?" Viviane asked.

"Mother. She had the Sight. Although it failed her in some rather important areas – let’s go upstairs, and see if we can set up a livable space for you."

The pair headed up the staircase, the broad, shallow steps still showing remnants of the high polish they once owned. Remus walked into a room and Banished the dust from the high four-poster bed and tall dresser. "This isn’t too bad." He tested the mattress and pillows. "Still in decent shape – the Preservation Charms seem to have worked. Will this do?"

"Just fine, Remus," Viviane said. She threw open the windows and shutters, then turned in time to see Remus conjure a fire. She stepped over and ran her fingers along the mantelpiece carved with an odd intertwining motif of constellations and mathematical symbols. "A gift from my father, to my mother. He had a strange sense of humor," Remus explained.

"I like it," Viviane said. "I think I’ll Apparate to Diagon Alley tomorrow morning, and get my business done there. Then I’ve some other things to take care of…I’ll be gone for a few days. Will you be all right here, alone?"

Remus gave the mantle a pat. "Always. It is home. And it is your home, as long as you stay in Britain, so do come back before you fly off permanently to Europe."

"Remus! I may be deadly, but not heartless." Her face fell, and she began to trace the carving of a cosign that merged into the constellation Orion. "This is going to be difficult-"

He took her hand. "Come on, Viv, let’s get the kitchen in order so we can make ourselves a decent supper."

~*~*~

Viviane stepped into the shop that was packed full of slender boxes and stopped at the desk. Before she could ring the bell, a keen-eyed wizard with a wild mane of silver-gray hair appeared from behind a cabinet.

"How may I serve you, my dear? Are you looking to purchase a wand?" He placed both hands on the desk and peered up at her, his eyes widening slightly as he took in her features. "My goodness, I never thought I’d see a Frenchwoman, and one of your lineage, in my store. What has happened to the wand you had, and why aren’t you patronizing Jerome du Bellay? Or are those questions better left unanswered?"

Viviane surveyed him haughtily. "Unanswered would be best. I simply need a wand, Mr. Ollivander."

"Ah, the choice of a wand is never simple." He scrutinized her, and Viviane stood up straighter, if possible, and placed both hands over the hilt of her sword, matching him look for look.

"Hmmm. Strength, stubborn pride, courage, and more than a touch of impetuosity. Prescience. Ability to fathom the very soul of a man, though that ability is seldom used, and sometimes used with disastrous results…sounds like the qualities Jerome would go on about when lauding his hero, the splendid Phillipe Dev-" Ollivander muttered as he clawed among his boxes, looking for wands he thought would do.

"Ah. Here we go…no, no, it’s willow. You’d destroy this wand in a single wave. This one? No, dragon’s heartstring is not complex enough…

"Here, try this. Mahogany, with a core of an eagle’s feather."

Viviane took the wand and gave Ollivander a penetrating stare.

"No Furnunculus spells, young lady," he snapped. "I’ve been in this business too long to put up with that sort of nonsense. Now get on with it."

She gave it a wave, but it merely shot a few reluctant sparks into the air.

"Not that, obviously. This. Ebony, containing the feather of an Occamy. Very rare indeed, and of the finest workmanship."

He gave the wand a fond glance before placing it in Viviane’s hands. "It is quite beautiful," she commented as she gave the wand a flick and commanded, "Lumos."

The tip of the wand glowed briefly, then died out.

"Hmph. A pity. I thought that would have been the perfect match." Ollivander fell back a few steps and scrutinized Viviane again, taking in everything from the dark green that ringed the paler color of her irises, to the narrow velvet bands edging the wrists and hem of her robes. "I do have one that might suit…it was an experiment of sorts. I never thought I’d find someone to match its properties. Wait here." Viviane turned away and began to pace about, finally reaching towards a particularly intriguing wand box.

"And don’t touch anything!" Ollivander’s voice commanded from the back of the store.

Viviane snatched her hand back and muttered, "Damned old busybody; Remus could have warned me about this one." She went to the window and amused herself by watching the passersby. It’s nice to be in a real city again. I hope Remus doesn’t end up buried at that house for too long. She bit her lip when it began to shake at the thought of leaving him there.

Ollivander came back. "My dear, I have something for you."

She walked back to the desk, on which the wizard had placed a long, narrow box. Lifting the lid with a touch of reverence, he glanced up to take in her reaction at what lay beneath. Viviane’s eyebrows arched with surprise and she drew in an appreciative breath. Lying in a nest of burgundy velvet were fourteen inches of plumwood, rich and dark and shimmering with purple highlights, the handle a simple extension of the wand itself, with only the carving of an asp grasping its tail to mark the division.

"Ooooh," whispered Viviane, and began to reach for the wand. Before she could touch it, Ollivander’s fingers closed around her wrist in a surprisingly strong grip.

"You should know better than to grasp at such things blindly, Viviane Devereaux. Do you know what the core of this wand contains?"

Viviane, startled by the sound of her true name, and by the sternness in the old wizard’s voice, simply shook her head, green eyes staring into equally bright blue ones.

"The hair of a Nundu. The deadliest creature known to us, a fast and powerful leopard. It was taken from the beast when it was still alive, by a man who died for his trouble. But he made me promise to go ahead and build a wand with it, and I did, to the best of my considerable ability." Ollivander, who had kept Viviane’s wrist within the circle of his fingers, closed them tightly about it once more. "Slender, for your height. But strong." He took the wand in his other hand and pressed it gently into hers, releasing the wrist as her fingers curled about the shining handle.

Viviane stared at the object in her hand and hesitated, looking uncertainly at the wizard who had given it to her.

"Go on, girl, give it a try," Ollivander said. "This is no time to develop shyness."

She waved it, and whispered "Lumos." She drew breath sharply as she sensed the wand gather and concentrate the power within her, giving her a greater sense of her possibilities than she’d ever before felt. A dazzling light appeared at the end of the wand, shining steady and true. Ollivander smiled for the first time since she’d entered the store. "Congratulations. You’re the first person I’ve trusted with that wand since, well, the first and until now last person who tried it. I had to pay for weeks of therapy at St. Mungo’s."

He retreated a few steps and gazed at her as she said, "Nox" and lowered the wand.

"And so-" Viviane began.

"So remember what you’re carrying in that wand, Mademoiselle. You have the capacity for terrible destruction, but also for swift action and great deeds." His face fell and he suddenly looked tired and a little defeated. "I had hoped that I’d never find a match for that one, truth be told. And yet-" He took the wand gently from her hand and, placing it in the box, handed it to her. "You’ll need it."

Viviane dropped the requisite amount of gold on the table, turned and left.

"Dear Merlin," sighed Ollivander, as he watched her exit the store. "Protect us all."

~*~*~

Knockturn Alley was slippery with the detrius of who-knew-what, which Viviane decided was I-don’t-want-to-know-either, and she gathered up her robes, wrinkling her nose in disgust. The buildings on either side of the narrow passage seemed to lean forward, peering at her with blank windows and malevolent intent, their crumbling facades threatening to dent the heads of passersby in a hail of brick and plaster. As Viviane glared back at them, they seemed to retreat from her, growing dim and distant if she focused on one too long. She pulled from her pocket the address she’d dug up, and glanced around for a street number.

This had better be right. I paid a high price for the information, and she is one Death Eater I’ve been trying to find for a long time.

"Newt liver?" someone yelled in her ear, and she jumped backwards, wand pointed in the direction of the voice. A battered-looking wizard thrust a noxious tray at her, his hands missing several digits. "Useful for brewing a good strong maiming potion."

"Er, I bet, but no, thanks," Viviane replied, stepping away. She spotted the building she was searching for, across the street from where she was standing. The tall brick house was in far better repair than its neighbors, the neat slate roof missing no tiles, and the transom above the door, filled with stained glass depicting a spider consuming a butterfly, was whole. The narrow windows shifted slightly, indicating the presence of anti-intruder spells, and the edges of the bricks glittered, razor sharp.

Viviane felt a tug on her robe, and looked down to see a child, ten years old at most, with a shock of tousled brown hair surrounding a begrimed face. He was clutching rolls of frayed parchment. "Miss? Are you disappointed in love? I have a sure-fire assortment of curses to make him rue-"

Grinning down at him, she said, "No, I have no need for that type of revenge. Get away, now."

The urchin heaved an exaggerated sigh and began to walk away then whirled around, continuing to walk backwards while sizing up Viviane with a cheeky, if jagged, grin. ‘Not now, miss, but you may need one in the future."

Viviane burst out laughing, disturbing a group of rag-wrapped wizards huddled over a magical dice game. "I’ll keep you in mind when that day comes," she called after him.

She returned her gaze to the house, and walked towards the door. It receded before her, until she pulled out her wand. "Dispelliarmus," she said, and the door fairly leaped to attention. Viviane gave her wand a surprised glance, then pointed it at the door. "Aholamora." Expecting the door to unlock, she blinked when the bolt sprung back with a loud ‘bang,’ and the door flew open. "I’m going to have to get used to this thing," she muttered, raising her wand to shoulder level as she entered and closed the door behind her.

The ground floor was deserted and derelict, the echoes of Viviane’s footsteps absorbed by walls of wet plaster and puddles of brackish water standing on the warped floorboards. She scanned the rooms and noticed a section of wall that had a strange quality about it, as if static was interrupting the plaster. It gave her pause, and she ran through several counterspells before deciding upon one. "Accidoavello," she said firmly, and the wall dissolved, revealing a grand staircase, fashioned from black oak and carved on every available surface with spiders and strange flora. "Oh, ick," muttered Viviane. "Swamps and spiders. Very cozy."

The upstairs hall was another world, with walls draped in burgundy satin and deep oriental carpets covering the floors. Viviane peeped into several luxurious rooms before finally coming to a door that was locked. Unlocking it, she stepped through, wand held at the ready.

A woman wrapped in a fine canvas robe was busy stirring a simmering cauldron. Her dark blonde hair, streaked with golden highlights, was in an immaculate French twist, and her delicate features were a study in concentration as she watched her brew.

"Making something interesting?" Viviane queried, causing the woman look up and draw her wand. "Expelliarmus!" cried Viviane, but instead of the wand coming to her, it exploded into glowing fragments that scattered about the room. "Oh dear," Viviane said, shaking hers irritably. "I’ve not got used to it yet."

"My wand-" gasped the woman.

Viviane began to rifle through the papers on the desk with one hand, while holding the woman at bay with her wand in the other.

"Oh, you won’t be needing it," commented Viviane, with a dismissive wave that further mussed the papers. "Potions, eh? Rather deadly ones, from the look of it." She turned to face her adversary, wand still pointed at her throat. "So, Cordelia de Winters, what have you to say for yourself?"

"Who – who are you?"

"You wouldn’t know, would you? You’re only a few years older than I – did you really believe in what you were doing, or were you merely along for a thrill? What’s this?" Viviane picked up a glass vial filled with a brown-yellow liquid, and watched Cordelia’s face freeze as she rolled it between her fingers, holding it to the light. "You look worried, my dear. Worked a long time to make this one, did you?" Viviane bared her teeth as she hurled it against the wall behind Cordelia’s head, where it shattered, splashing hissing liquid against the wall. Holes began to appear in the plaster, smoke curling about the edges as the gaps expanded.

"How dare you destroy my work," Cordelia asked, her voice an icy whisper. "That will be the dearest vial you ever broke-"

"Not pleasant, is it, to see something you care for destroyed?" Viviane interrupted.

Cordelia was breathing hard, but her chin was lifted defiantly. "Are you some Ministry hack? If so, please leave my laboratory. What I’m doing is perfectly legal and, I’ll have you know, my sister is married to Lucius Malfoy, son of Drusius Malfoy. He won’t stand for this."

"Malfoy? Oh yes, I’ve heard of that alliance. Years in the works, that one. How nice of you to remind me, especially since I’ve got it on good –very good authority that you and Lucius….well, family comes before love, does it not, and Narcissa is the eldest. She must not be happy about the theft of her husband’s affections, especially by her own sister. But Lucius is too ambitious to ever drop Narcissa for you." Viviane walked about the room, fingering vials and beakers and occasionally knocking them off their shelves with sharp little swats of her hand.

"Get out," Cordelia whispered, her face ashen. "I don’t know who you are, or where you get your information, but the Malfoys-"

Viviane turned on her with such ferocity that Cordelia quailed against the wall. "The Malfoys were our lackeys, not so long ago," she shouted. "Lucius’ grandfather pulled off my ancestor’s boots."

A light flickered in Cordelia’s sharp gray eyes, and she carefully scanned Viviane. "Ah, so that’s who you are. I’ve always wondered what the fuss over you was about. It can’t be your looks - you’re even uglier than reported. A pity we had to destroy so many handsome people in search of you. Your schoolmate Amelie Seville, for example, was especially lovely, that is until-"

She gagged on the wand that Viviane jabbed viciously into the base of her throat. "Yes, I remember." Viviane backed up a few steps and appraised Cordelia with such cold, jade-pale eyes that the witch began to tremble despite her best efforts to stay still.

"Tell me, did you truly believe in Voldemort’s vision when you participated in the attack on Aquitaine? Or did you go along to show Lucius your penchant for blood, unlike your squeamish sister?"

"Narcissa is a weak fool," Cordelia whispered. "Unworthy of Lucius, and he knows it."

Viviane stood for a moment, regarding Cordelia with a detached, speculative air. She slowly replaced her wand in her belt, then in a blur of motion, swept her sword up and against Cordelia’s neck, pinning her against the wall. "Weak?" questioned Viviane, her eyes inches away from Cordelia’s. "Is that what you call a disinclination for murder? You and your kind have forged a very strong enemy in me."

Viviane stepped back and Cordelia sagged forward, her hands groping for the edge of the table. She had no time to steady herself before Viviane’s sword came crashing into her delicate neck, releasing a dark gush of blood that her murderer neatly sidestepped, walking past the crumpled form and out the door.

~*~*~

Remus stood, for a moment, staring morosely at the remains of their dinner, after Viviane Disapparated. The house seemed airless, and unnaturally silent. He held his breath, listening for something he couldn’t quite identify, then shook himself and walked into the study. He folded his long body into a chair before the fire and glanced at the pile of newspapers, but could not bring himself to pick one up and start the drear task of looking through want ads.

Viviane. Infuriating, pigheaded, stubborn as hell, but she scatters about her voracious lust for existence like largesse. The remarks that Viviane had made about not facing what had happened to James, Lily and Peter had been coming to mind more often then he liked, and they annoyed him even more now than when they were originally voiced. She’d practically accused him of cowardice, of being unable to say their names. He had done so, of course, in passing conversation, but a part of his mind would close, the words were detached from the vividness of recollection. Remus knew that that was Viviane’s meaning, the inability to truly feel their loss as he acknowledged their memory. Well, he could. He would. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes.

"James." Tall, goofy grin, holding his broom, the famous Shooting Star.

The word echoed out into the room and died away. "Lily, Peter." Wild red hair, quick wit; sly grin, intent listener. Those words too, were absorbed into the air.

Remus paused and swallowed hard. Forced his fingers to loosen from the small wooden globes that adorned the arms of his chair. Took another breath.

"Sirius." It came out as a whisper. He whipped himself out of the chair, fists clenched. "Sirius," he shouted. It sounded like a desperate summons.

He stood for a moment, panting, then walked to the bookcases. He ransacked them like a crazed man, eagerly pushing aside tomes that had settled into their places years before, raising clouds of dust but no particular clues to just what he wanted. Finally, at the bottom of the third case and in a corner, he recognized what he was looking for. His fingers froze on the dark leather spines, tightened incrementally, then he gathered the group of scrapbooks carefully into his arms.

Placing them on the table, he stepped back. He’d just said their names, and nothing had happened, nothing at all. But seeing-

Remus stretched a finger towards the nearest scrapbook and flipped the cover over, simultaneously jumping back as if he expected an asp to fall out of the pages. No snake appeared, so he sidled up to the book, and snuck a look at the exposed page. The letter from Hogwarts, requesting his attendance, was carefully pasted in, and Remus ran shaky fingers over the surface.

He allowed himself a tight smile, remembering the joy of being, for the first time, wanted, by someone other than his parents, by an outside entity, and he eagerly turned the page. He froze. There he was, waving goodbye to his parents, hanging out of the window of the Hogwarts train, a just-met Sirius waggling his fingers madly behind his head. Remus sank to his knees and rested his forehead against the table. Damn her. Damn her, for challenging me to face this.

Remus got back up and pulled a chair over to the table. He sat down and for the first time since the night of James and Lily’s murder, began to relive his years at Hogwarts, through the photos and mementos that his mother had collected and his father had so carefully put together. Honors, dances, feasts, Quidditch, James, Lily, Peter, Sirius.

Sirius. Always laughing.

Hours later, Remus had finished with the seventh scrapbook, forcing himself to took at pictures of a joyful graduation. Lily and James, all agrin after the announcement of their plans to marry. Peter, showing off his medal for Most Improved student. Sirius, kissing everybody within reach. Himself, Remus, just there, only happy.

He closed the book, resting his hands upon the cover and a tremor ran through his body. There, Viv, I’ve done it. Faced it.

Unfortunately, when he opened his eyes, he realized there was yet another scrapbook, with ‘For Remus’ written on the cover in his father’s handwriting. Puzzled, he drew it forward and opened it, then snapped it shut. He sat there, eyes closed, and tried to control his racing heart. "Father, why on earth would you do this...keep such things...unless…"

Remus seized and reopened the album so hastily that he nearly ripped the cover off. There was the photo of Sirius Black being lead off to Azkaban, eyes glowing with terror and rage as he swung his shoulders violently, trying to shake off the grip of the Dementors. Remus could almost hear his screamed protests of innocence, but then he heard something else, a saying his father was fond of repeating. Some of the worst sins we commit are sins of omission. "Sins of omission," muttered Remus to himself, his forefinger tracing lightly over Sirius’ face. "We omitted trust, we omitted truth, love, willingness to listen, in those final months…"

He turned the page. There, and in the rest of the album, were pasted articles about the murders and the evidence against Sirius. Remus began to read, as he had never dared to read before, article after article telling the same terrible story of murder and insanity, all focusing in on Sirius’ laughter as he stood in a street full of bodies, and Peter’s finger lying in the mud.

Remus read each carefully arranged clipping, scanning them for clues – to solve what mystery he did not know. But he kept turning back to that first photo, staring at Sirius’ face. Remus well knew that Sirius laughed for many reasons – while under pressure, when afraid, when humiliated, when amused. Which was it, Sirius, tell me. Tell me. There was no answer in the photo, though, and certainly no laughter from Sirius, only those awful wordless screams, so Remus wearily rose and poured himself a glass of whisky from the cheap bottle he’d procured in the village that morning. He grimaced a bit from the rough taste, but knew that he needed to reserve his funds, for the immediate future.

*~*~*

He was sitting in front of the fire, his face haggard from five days of minimal sleep and too much whisky. During those five days, he had worn shiny paths in the dust that lay in the unused rooms of the house, in and out of doorways, around the walls and furniture. He had left a trail of smudges on the walls where, lost in thought, he’d run his fingertips along them, going over and over the scenario he’d refused to think about for so long. And after all that, he still didn’t know which was worse, believing Sirius guilty, or believing him innocent and caged in Azkaban. And he didn’t know if there was anything he could do in either case.

A tall, cloaked figure appeared and blocked his view of the fire. He started, and looked up to see Viviane fling the hood back from her face and catch him in an embrace as he struggled to stand. He flung his arms around her and lifted her off the ground for a second, suddenly realizing he’d been worried about her.

"Oh Remus, how I’ve missed you! Remus?" She leaned back and caught Remus’ face in her hands. "Great Merlin, what is it? You look terrible."

Remus grimaced. "Thanks, Viv. It is your fault. How about getting some dinner and then I’ll tell you all about it?"

Viviane tossed her cloak on a chair and ran her fingers through her hair. "Sounds good." She led the way to the kitchen and rummaged around in the refrigerator, producing chicken and some vegetables. "Oh, another task for my new wand," she said, handing it to Remus. He held it up, admiring the way the light played on the dark, polished wood. "Beautiful. Ollivander has outdone himself." He noticed Viviane giving him a dirty look. "Oh, I see you got along with your usual éclat . He’s a strange one. What’s the core?"

Viviane shrugged. "Nundu hair."

Remus hastily gave the wand back to her. "Nundu hair? He made a wand with Nundu hair and gave it to you? To you? What on earth was he thinking?" Remus blurted out.

"Thanks for the vote of confidence," Viviane retorted, and as he was cleaning the chicken, Viviane pointed her wand at the oven. "Lightit!" she commanded, and a large sheet of flame burst from the oven door, singeing the sleeve of Remus’ robe.

"Sorry," muttered Viviane, as Remus slapped at the material and then dumped the potatoes and carrots into the pan. He gave her a faint glare. "You were awful at the domestic arts before; Ollivander has given you the power to be positively deadly," Remus remarked.

After dinner, they piled the dishes in the sink and set them to washing themselves, then headed back to the study.

"It’s gotten cold again," Viviane said, curling up on the couch, wrapping herself in a tartan wool blanket that moths had been feasting upon. She patted the space next to her. "Huddle for warmth? I promise I won’t kiss you!"

Remus laughed for the first time in days. "Oh Viv, what will I do without you?" He sat down and yanked most of the blanket away from her.

"Hey," she protested. "I invited you over here to keep me warm, not leave me, a poor defenseless woman, out in the cold."

He hooted. "Defenseless? Right." He carefully tucked the blanket about her shoulders, then leaned against her, wrapping the remainder around himself. "The one thing I don’t worry too much about is your safety. Your sanity, however…"

"I’m not worried about mine. It’s you who haven’t been sleeping. What is it?

Remus clasped his arms around his knees. "I went through the scrapbooks my parents made, of my years at Hogwarts."

Viviane sucked in her breath sharply. "Oooh-"

"It was...difficult. But I did it." He bit his lip. "There was another book, one my father made, of- of- Sirius. Of his imprisonment, his murders." Remus rested his forehead on his knees. "It made me realize that I have never accepted the fact he was responsible for the others’ deaths. I still haven’t accepted it, and I don’t know if I want to. There’s just not enough proof...and yet, who else would have known where to find them?"

Viviane rested a hand on his bent back. "I don’t know, Remus. In those days, who knew what anyone was truly thinking?"

"We should have. The four of us, and Lily – we were so close, but near the end, the fear and the, well, the suspicions got to everyone, or at least Sirius me." Remus grasped her hand. "We can’t let that happen to us."

Viviane merely squeezed his hand, and neither said much as they huddled before the fire, enjoying the presence of each other for what they knew would be the last time, for a long time.

~*~*~

When Remus came downstairs next morning, seeking breakfast, Viviane’s pack was sitting next to the front door. Remus tried to avoid the sight of it, and hastened to the kitchen to grab a muffin and some tea before returning to his study of the scrapbooks. She was evidently avoiding the sight of him, as she had not come out of her room since dropping the pack there late the night before.

He sighed. Even though she wasn’t making any noise, he could sense the intensity of her presence in the house, filling it with crackling energy that kept his wolfish senses alert and on edge. He found it strangely comforting.

Soft, reluctant steps began to echo down the staircase, followed by the sweeping of cloth. Remus closed his eyes and breathed deeply. Exhaled. It was time.

He turned his head to the double doors, thrown wide, that opened into the foyer. Viviane appeared, swathed in her cloak. She stopped at the bottom of the staircase and clutched the carved oaken slide rule that served as newel.

"Remus?" she said, her voice pitched low. "I- I think I need to leave."

Remus rose from his seat and collected himself before taking a step towards her. "I know you do. Oh Viv-"

He found himself hastening forward and they collided in the middle of the foyer, sweeping each other around with the force of the impact until they smacked up against the staircase.

Viviane smoothed his hair away from his face. "I’m not afraid. But, Remus, nothing will be the same-"

Remus looked down into her eyes, trying to remember how many shades of green they could become. "No, nothing will be. But keep in touch."

"I will. I’ll send owls – Malhereuse is a little too showy to keep a low profile."

"And I’ll keep you updated on my activities, when you tell me where you are." His arms tightened around her and he whispered, "If you fall into trouble, send Mal. Then I’ll know, and I’ll hurry…" He couldn’t say any more, and by the way Viviane dug her chin into his shoulder, he could tell she was trying not to cry. He gave her a few moments to get herself under control, then took her by the shoulders, making a futile attempt to look stern. "Keep a sharp eye out. Moody probably won’t bother to track you across Europe, but he might have someone on the watch for you."

Viviane took a deep breath and blinked hard, several times. "Yes, I’ll watch my back, that is, if you will watch yours. Remus, try and find somebody to be here, to be around when-"

She broke off and sighed, seeing Remus’ face close down in that expression that told her he would not listen.

"Take care, and I hope to see you again, soon," she said, and abruptly turned away, picked up her pack, and straightened her shoulders. Malhereuse settled on one and nibbled a strand of her hair, then stretched his wings as if eager to get going. Facing Remus, Viviane threw back her head and with a wicked smile, Disapparated out of his sight, if not his life.

Remus turned back to the empty house, shook his head, and went into the study to start his perusal of the Daily Prophet want ads.

The End.

A/N: Without Hecate and her tireless beta-reading, this story would be somewhat illogical and much more sloppily written. She’s also responsible for some of the really great turns of phrase in the story, one of which is "like every other person Viviane antagonized almost without thinking, was struck by that power as if by the flat of her sword." (I just couldn’t take credit for that one!)

Zsenya, a wonderful Sugar Quill beta-reader, caught a major time gaffe that I’m deeply grateful to her for so catching.

Episcopal Witch, whose reviews have made me think much more deeply about my characters than I ever would have without them.

And thanks to the Femmes Dangereuses, of course. For sanity, and all that.