FIC: Ill Met by Moonlight Part Two
Part One: http://community.livejournal.com/metamorfic_moon/175965.html
Ill Met By Moonlight by Jess Pallas Part Two
Remus Lupin stared out at the world. And the world looked different.
For a start, it was higher. In spite of the bulk of a werewolf, there was no denying that life on all fours gave one a somewhat lower perspective on the world that the upright gait of a human, a drop in angle that gave otherwise familiar sights a strangely alien feel. The feel of the coloured paving of the promenade under the pads of his paws was very different to the tread of his shoed feet, the sound of the sea in the night air sharper somehow.
And the smells…
They were familiar, the tang of the salty water, the scent of the sand, the stink of dropped rubbish, but at the same time they were different. Richer.
Vivid.
Smelling the world through a werewolf’s nose was like difference between visiting a place and seeing it in a postcard. A human nose gave you the basic idea but a wolf’s nose made it an experience…
And there was so much more to it than passing humans every realised. The fading passage of long gone feet, the drifting hint of spent emotions, the history of a day in the life still scattered out in front of him, so many scents to which he was unable to even put a name and wouldn’t even dare to try and untangle…
But he was drifting again. He was here for a reason. He needed to concentrate.
Movement was becoming easier. While moving as a human came naturally to Remus and moving as wolf came naturally to his full moon alter ego, Remus’s human mind was not particularly talented at manipulating four legs and a furry tail. After all, since the onset of the wolfsbane potion, there hadn’t exactly been much he’d wanted to do in his wolf form apart from bolt down a sandwich, fall asleep or nudge over a page with his nose. His little excursion onto the promenade by night was the first time he’d ever ventured outdoors as a werewolf using his own mind to do the steering. Aside from anything else, it was strictly against Kingsley’s entirely reasonable new rules.
Sweet Merlin. If I get caught, Harry and Kingsley will have my hide.
But what else was he supposed to do? He could hardly head down to reception and bark for assistance in locating his absent wife.
It had only been a couple of hours since she’d left. But it was late, and she’d been tired and she’d promised to come back after moonset to make sure he wasn’t tearing the chalet to bits…
She wouldn’t break a promise like that. She just wouldn’t.
Harry would call him paranoid. Dora, who was probably sat quietly on a bench somewhere enjoying the moonlight, was likely to whack him soundly with whatever object first came to hand for being so damned stupid. But Remus knew he would take whatever punishment was doled out, domestic or official, just to be certain that his wife and unborn daughter were safe and sound.
Perhaps he should have waited longer. But he’d listened and listened for the creak of the door, for the one scent in a myriad of confusing odours that he could have picked out from his grave, for a low voice, just checking he wasn’t ripping himself to pieces. He’d waited and waited and waited. And finally, when the worry had outweighed the sensible corner of Remus’s head that was saying he should hardly go wandering about in the open transformed, he’d pulled down the key he’d hidden on a nearby shelf, awkwardly fitted it into the lock in the door with his teeth and let himself out. And then he’d seen her wand sitting on the table and the last of his doubts had disappeared. He’d grabbed it off the table and clawed open the door.
Her scent hadn’t been hard to find. It coated the cabin from end to end. And then he’d picked up the freshest of her odours from amongst the horde of smells and, ignoring the terrible discordant wailing coming from the Bubblins karaoke contest, he’d slipped out into the darkness and made off in the direction of the sea front.
If anyone saw him, the trouble he would get into didn’t bear thinking about. But some things were more important.
She’d travelled along the sea front. Inexperienced as Remus was in the art of scent recognition, he’d quickly got the hang of Dora’s and he recognised the slightly tense twang that her odour tended to develop on full moon nights, compared to the fuller, more relaxed scent of their earlier stroll that he’d picked up traces of nearby. But he wasn’t scared and she wasn’t nervous, she was just wandering along and…
Shock.
It was like a nasal explosion. Remus ground to a standstill as he rolled up beside the closed snack kiosk, snuffling at the paving and the wall beside it in a manner that his human brain couldn’t help but absently reflect was distinctly unhygienic. But there was no denying the scent had changed, strengthened, gained potency… Something had happened here, something had…
CRASH!
The sound pierced the air and walloped against his sensitive ears, drawing his gaze at once to the run down old hotel on the promenade’s far side. A dull, musky, distant scent drifted over to his sensitive nose, something that made him think of mountains and, oddly enough, the Hogwarts potions classroom. And there was something else too, something dark and harsh and primally familiar…
Dark woods and rocky hideaways, thickets and brambles beneath the light of a burning full moon. Fur and teeth and a howl on the breeze…
His golden eyes stared into the shadows of the hotel doorway. Two golden eyes stared back.
I know him.
Even as Remus’s human brain struggled to acknowledge the shock of seeing another werewolf, deep inside, the instinctive corner beaten down but never destroyed by the wolfsbane was screaming at him. His mind flashed back almost against his will to the awful months with Greyback, to untamed, unpleasant transformations and a sea of ragged, hopeless faces living from one day to the next because they didn’t know what else to do. He’d talked to them, lived with them, struggled alongside them, seen them at their weakest and their strongest alike and on those full moon nights, they had been a mass of scents, a pack known one from the other not by their faces, but by their smell…
He’d been a new arrival, a recent recruit who’d been in the wrong place at the wrong time when Greyback had needed a Floo. He remembered the first time he’d smelled his scent, his first transformation with the pack. And in the morning, he remembered a narrow faced, angry man curled in a blanket as he bit the figurative head of anyone and anything for the turn his life had taken…
Narrow face. Greying hair. Bitter eyes.
St Mungo’s. The man in St Mungo’s. The Monster Master.
Bartolph. His name is Jack Bartolph.
And he’s here. And he’s staring at me. And if Dora saw him, before he transformed, if she recognised his face…
He sniffed the air once more, enough to leave him in no doubt. His wife’s scent was headed straight towards the hotel where Bartolph stood watching him.
It was only then that Remus realised he was growling. His wife’s wand dropped to the floor with a clatter.
If he’s touched her…
He needed to find his wife. He knew that. But right here in front of him, the werewolf form of a man who’d taken four innocent lives was staring at him with eyes far too knowing not to have a human mind behind them.
The wind was blowing off the shore. He could smell Bartolph but he could bet Bartolph couldn’t smell him. He had no idea who he was facing.
And he could catch him. Here and now. An even Quidditch field, two human-minded werewolves…
He tensed himself for the charge, to spring forwards, to leap, as best he could and bring the other werewolf down…
CRASH!
The window frames of the derelict hotel gave a noticeable shudder. Dust cascaded down in a spiral by the light of the stuttering lantern. And then, Remus heard the smashing of a pane of glass.
He looked up sharply just in time to see a pale and very familiar head appear out of the upstairs window. Her eyes fixed upon him and froze.
Dora.
She looked in tact. A little dusty perhaps and very tired, but she seemed whole enough and the expression on her face when she laid eyes on him was enough to tell him that his wife knew all about Jack Bartolph’s condition.
Oh Merlin. Does she think I’m him?
Stay there. Just stay there. I’ll deal with Bartolph and then I’ll come and…
It was inevitable. He should have known but yet somehow, it still came as a grim kind of shock.
His five months pregnant wife was climbing out of the window.
Oh no. Oh no, no, no, no…
Don’t you dare. Nymphadora Tonks, don’t you dare, you can’t climb out of that window, you know what’ll happen…
But she was. Her movements were awkward, made cumbersome by the jut of her belly but nonetheless, a foot was edging uncertainly out onto the distinctly crooked looking roof tiles as her fingers scrambled for purchase on the rotten wooden window frame. She was actually trying to leave that way. She knew there was a werewolf out here and the potential for a truly catastrophic fall and yet still she…
A shuddering crash shook the old building once more. Sweet Merlin, what was in there that was so much worse than the sheer potential for disaster involved in climbing out?
From the doorway, Bartolph was still staring at him. For the first time, Remus noticed that the other werewolf was bloodied and looking more than a little dazed.
But that was the least of his concerns.
If she falls… and she will fall, she’s Dora, she wouldn’t be Dora if she didn’t… A softer place to land. I need to find her a softer place to land…
Frantically, he searched the darkness. He had Dora’s wand of course, hurriedly snatched back up, but he had no idea if magic casting was even possible in werewolf form. He needed something soft, like cushions or a mattress, but even by emptying the nearby guesthouses, just how many cushions and mattresses would he need to soften a five story fall? He could hardly stretch out a sheet single-hand… single-pawed and fetching help of any description was bound to come too late, if anyone could even be found stupid enough to follow a frantic looking werewolf. But what else was there here that he could possibly…
His eyes fell upon the children’s play area. Upon the dark slide and the still swings.
Upon the trampoline…
Involving Dora with a trampoline was ninety percent likely to end in tears. But it was the best he was going to get.
His eyes flashed to Bartolph. If he tried to interfere…
But the doorway was empty. The other werewolf was gone.
Damn!
But there was no time for that now. His wife and daughter were more important.
Fortunately the play area was not gated but the trampoline had been locked in place with sturdy looking chains. Remus eyeballed them with profound frustration.
Well. This is as good a time as any to find out if a human minded werewolf can do magic…
Jostling Dora’s wand awkwardly in his teeth, Remus aimed it crookedly at the padlock the held the cluster of chains in place. And then, screwing up his eyes, he concentrated with every fibre of his soul.
Alohamora! Alohamora! Alohamora! Aloha-bloody-mora! Come on, please! Alohamora! ALOHAMORA!
It was barely a spark. A stuttering half-glint of a thing. But on a rusty old Muggle padlock, it was just enough.
The lock clicked and fell open.
Yes! YES!
The metal rim was cold and hard within his teeth, but Remus honestly didn’t care. Dragging the awkward frame with all his might, he grimly began to pull.
* * *
Remus. It’s Remus.
She hadn’t been sure. Not really. Not until she’d slipped her first tentative, exploratory foot out of the window and had seen the look that had crossed the lupine face upturned below. Human or wolf, only Remus Lupin could glare at her quite like that. She could almost hear the inaudible scolding written large in those golden eyes. He hated it when she put herself in danger.
Normally she’d call him an overprotective prat and insist she could take care of herself. But on this occasion, she had to concede that he probably had something of a point.
Mind you, what the bloody hell is he doing out here anyway? The trouble he might get into! Remus Lupin, you hypocrite!
Tiles skidded and scrambled beneath her feet. Splinters of woodworm riddle wood dug into her fingernails. Worrying about the trouble Remus might get into was far better than pondering the trouble she was already in.
But wait a minute. Where was he going? What was he doing in the children’s play…
Oh no.
It was better than the alternative. She had to admit that. But a trampoline?
Dragging it was proving no easy task for her lupine husband, the metal rim grasped within his teeth as he hauled it rather noisily across the paving stones. She could see light flickering on in the neighbouring guest house windows.
Hello police? Yes, there’s a big grey dog stealing a trampoline…
Harry is going to kill us. Again…
The building shuddered profoundly. Tonks could see an enormous grey head trying to force its way up through the crumbling floorboards.
Well, it was the trampoline or the graphorn. Tonks was fairly certain no such choice had ever had to be made in the history of the world before.
And the baby…
Why did I get myself into this? Why am I so bloody stupid?
Hold on, my little girl. I’m so sorry about the rough ride.
Remus was almost in position now, straining madly as he pulled the trampoline into place with all his might. By the light of the lamp, Tonks could now see that the play equipment was not the only thing he was carrying.
Is that my wand? If he’s put tooth marks in it, I swear…
But there was no more time. The building was shaking madly now under the force of the graphorn’s repeated assaults. It was unlikely to survive much longer.
And neither would she if she didn’t…
Let go.
Her fingers parted. Her feet gave way. Eyes to the stars and back to the earth, Nymphadora Tonks was falling.
The night sky rushed away. Something seemed to enfold her, soften her fall, slow her descent, but Remus was a werewolf now, surely he couldn’t have…
She hit the trampoline. The stars rushed back at her again.
But the bounce was minimal, softened by the strange, slowing force that had caught her. After a mere couple of ricochets, the material caught her and rippled to stillness.
For a moment, Tonks could only lie there, staring in shock up at the crumbling frontage, the lamplight and the mass of stars. But then suddenly her peaceful resting place gave a shudder as a grey, four legged shape leapt onto the sheet of material and stumbled almost comically to her side.
A rough haired muzzle nudged at her face, her wand grasped within sharp, vicious teeth. Golden eyes stared down in obvious concern.
And it was Remus.
It didn’t matter that the grey, sharp-toothed face just inches from hers was the stuff of many people’s nightmares. It didn’t matter than the eyes were not the warm, familiar brown that she so loved. He was there in the anxious twitch of wolfish brows, in a frown so familiar as to be disconcerting, in the turn of his head and the fear and love in his eyes. He was there.
It didn’t matter what he looked like. He’d said it often enough to her - no matter what she looked like, she would always know her. And now she knew that she felt just the same.
Echoing crashes sounded above. A piece of masonry hit the edge of the trampoline with a worrying clang.
A furry head butted sharply against her shoulder. Tonks couldn’t help but feel it had a point.
“I’m moving, I’m moving!”
Making good headway on the springy surface was no mean feat, but spurred on by the clatter of the collapsing hotel, Tonks made it off the side of the trampoline in fairly short order. With her lupine husband at her side, she bolted across the promenade and into the shadow of the snack kiosk.
They were only just in time.
With a series of crashes that were almost sigh-like, dust and rubble expelled itself through three floors worth of windows. The roof sagged. The boards tumbled. And somewhere deep inside, the graphorn gave a long and echoing scream. Its weight had finally outweighed the strength of the fragile floorboards.
Poor thing. It wasn’t its fault that nutter werewolf dragged it into this, Even if it did try to stomp me…
A cold chill lodged in her chest. Had he woken before the building tumbled? Had the Monster Master escaped or been crushed as well?
A part of her whispered it would serve him right. Another part of her swam with guilt.
Tonks ducked back into the shadow of the kiosk and knelt gently beside her husband. Remus still had her wand clamped between his jaws.
“You cushioned my fall.” The words slipped out. “With my wand. As a wolf. Remus, that’s bloody amazing.”
His head twitched and ducked in that daft modest way it always did when someone was giving him some kind of compliment. A cold nose nuzzled against her skin.
Are you okay? She could almost hear the unspoken question that lingered in his eyes and motions. Are you both okay?
She rested her hand against her belly. An indignant little wriggle indicated that her passenger had not enjoyed the ride but was very much still awake to acknowledge it.
Oh, the adventures you’ve had before you’ve even seen the light, my little girl…
“I’m okay,” she whispered softly, her other hand reaching up to touch the wiry muzzle. “I think we both are. Oh, Remus. ”
Unthinkingly, her hands whipped out and wrapped around the furry neck. She felt him half start back in shock but he didn’t pull away from the embrace.
I bet there aren’t many people who can say they’ve hugged a transformed werewolf… Mind you…
“You know,” she said, quietly but with a distinct of cheek. “It doesn’t matter what form you’re in. You still have bony shoulders, Remus Lupin.”
A cold nose plunged into her ear in retort. She topped onto her backside with a thud and laughed.
“Prat!” The swipe caught his nose. “I should be so angry with you! What if you’d got seen out and about, hmm?”
The look that Remus offered in return was a quiet eloquent, if silent, tirade on the matter of her being one to talk under the circumstances. The prod at her pregnant belly was pointed and reproachful.
“Yeah, yeah, I know, I’m a bloody idiot.” Tonks sighed. “But I can explain…”
Her voice tailed off. The look in his eyes was enough.
“You saw him. You know he’s the Monster Master?” A nod. “Did you recognise him? He mentioned Greyback…” Another nod, this one solid. “Did he get out?” Another emphatic nod. Tonks was always glancing into the shadows as she pulled herself awkwardly to her feet. “He may still be around. We need to…”
This time it was a shake. Remus showed his muzzled against her hand, pushing the wand into it but the expression on those wolfish features was not that of a man hoping to join his wife on a werewolf hunting expedition. With a jerk of his head, he gestured towards the nearby houses.
All along the promenade, lights were flickering into life. Pyjama clad Muggles were beginning to appear in doorways. In the distance, the blue lights of Muggle law enforcement vehicles moved steadily in their direction.
Oh boy. A derelict hotel collapsing was one thing for Muggles to deal with. Finding the mangled corpse of a freakish rhino in the remains would be quite another.
Tonks lifted her wand. “Harry?”
The nod was emphatic once more. Harry.
Rubbing one hand against her husband’s wiry head, Tonks raised her wand. A moment later, his luminescent twin galloped away into the night.
* * *
Harry had been cross. Teddy had been crosser.
But disaster at Bubblins had been averted. Lives, if not eardrums, had almost certainly been saved. Annoyed as Harry had been with both his former teacher for venturing out on a full moon night and his workmate for going after wizarding Britain’s most wanted alone, unarmed and pregnant, he had given them both their due for that.
Bartolph, alas, had not been caught. As the clean up at the hotel had got under way in liaison with the bewildered but compliant local police force, Remus had discreetly followed his scent with Harry for the remainder of the full moon night. But Bartolph had found a wizarding house with a fireplace and a dog flap. Spilled Floo powder had told its own story. And so Harry had walked them both back to the chalet so Remus could change back, helped them pack and sent them to St Mungo’s with emphatic orders to go straight home afterwards and bloody well stay out of trouble. He wasn’t, he informed them pointedly, going to ask them again.
The hospital had declared all three of them to be fine. And so they had headed home to catch up on some sleep.
Neither Remus nor Tonks had bothered to admonish the other for their actions on the full moon night. They had simply come to a silent agreement that both had been as bad as the other and let it go at that. Teddy’s lecture once they had woken the following afternoon, however, had lasted a good half an hour longer than Harry’s had. There had been gestures. He had crossed his arms. He had scolded them about how much they meant to him and what it would do to him to lose them again. Tonks loved her son dearly, but since she had never really known him until he was fully grown, there were disconcerting moments when it was hard to tell exactly who the parent in their relationship was. Although it galled her to admit it, she was honest enough to concede that there was enough of Remus in Teddy to mean that he was more often than not a great deal more mature than she was.
But there was enough of her in her son to mean he rarely stayed cross for long. Once the lecture was done, he made them dinner.
“Aren’t you going to have any ice cream on that?”
Tonks glared at her husband over the top of her chicken casserole. “It’s a craving,” she told him firmly. “As you well know.”
Teddy grinned as his hair dyed itself into three distinct stripes of brown, white and pink. He had been brought up to speed on his mother’s sticky antics. “From what dad’s said, I’ve always though Neopolita Lupin would be a lovely name for a girl. Though I do hope my new sister won’t be cold to me…”
“You’re both gits.” Tonks tucked into her casserole pointedly as she rubbed her tummy with her free hand. “I can’t wait for my little girl to come along so I’m not outnumbered by a family of rotten sods anymore.”
Remus smiled. “At least we know she’s durable, like her mother. She’s had an exciting ride with you so far.”
Tonks cocked an eyebrow at him. “And I think she may have inherited your bony shoulders. She’s been prodding me with something that sharp all afternoon.” She grinned slightly. “The bony shoulders of Remus Lupin, capable of transcending even a werewolf transformation. They’re just as sharp no matter what form you hug him in.”
Teddy’s eyes snapped up. He blinked. “You hugged a werewolf?” he exclaimed. But then his eyes widened as he stared at his father in horror. “Dad… I… Sorry! I’m sorry!” he scrambled desperately, dropping his fork in his haste to raise his hands. “I didn’t mean it like…”
“I know you didn’t.” Remus cut in to halt their son’s guilt before it could gather a head of steam. “Don’t worry, it’s fine.” He smiled slightly. “It came as somewhat of a surprise to me too, it has to be said.”
Tonks couldn’t help but smile. “I couldn’t help myself. You were sat there all furry and lupine but you were still so… well… you. The way you moved your head, your frown, those looks you gave me…” She sighed slightly as she looked up and met her husband’s eyes. “I’ve always said I don’t care what you are just like you’ve always said you don’t care what face I’m using. But you on wolfsbane - it’s just Remus Lupin in a big fur coat. And once I realised that, it didn’t matter what you looked like. You were just so completely yourself.” She chuckled quietly. “Even with those shoulders, what girl could resist hugging that?”
Remus actually laughed. “Most of them as it happens. Until I met you.”
She reached across and shoved his shoulder lightly. “Good thing you met me then.”
“I’m quite grateful,” Teddy chipped in cheerfully.
As Tonks joined in with the laughter of husband and son, she felt a bony little prod against her belly. She smiled.
Perhaps the Monster Master was still at large. Perhaps she could have done more to capture him. But all that mattered in the here and now was the safety of her baby and the laughter of her family.
There wasn’t much more she could want from life than that.
THE END
Ill Met By Moonlight by Jess Pallas Part Two
Remus Lupin stared out at the world. And the world looked different.
For a start, it was higher. In spite of the bulk of a werewolf, there was no denying that life on all fours gave one a somewhat lower perspective on the world that the upright gait of a human, a drop in angle that gave otherwise familiar sights a strangely alien feel. The feel of the coloured paving of the promenade under the pads of his paws was very different to the tread of his shoed feet, the sound of the sea in the night air sharper somehow.
And the smells…
They were familiar, the tang of the salty water, the scent of the sand, the stink of dropped rubbish, but at the same time they were different. Richer.
Vivid.
Smelling the world through a werewolf’s nose was like difference between visiting a place and seeing it in a postcard. A human nose gave you the basic idea but a wolf’s nose made it an experience…
And there was so much more to it than passing humans every realised. The fading passage of long gone feet, the drifting hint of spent emotions, the history of a day in the life still scattered out in front of him, so many scents to which he was unable to even put a name and wouldn’t even dare to try and untangle…
But he was drifting again. He was here for a reason. He needed to concentrate.
Movement was becoming easier. While moving as a human came naturally to Remus and moving as wolf came naturally to his full moon alter ego, Remus’s human mind was not particularly talented at manipulating four legs and a furry tail. After all, since the onset of the wolfsbane potion, there hadn’t exactly been much he’d wanted to do in his wolf form apart from bolt down a sandwich, fall asleep or nudge over a page with his nose. His little excursion onto the promenade by night was the first time he’d ever ventured outdoors as a werewolf using his own mind to do the steering. Aside from anything else, it was strictly against Kingsley’s entirely reasonable new rules.
Sweet Merlin. If I get caught, Harry and Kingsley will have my hide.
But what else was he supposed to do? He could hardly head down to reception and bark for assistance in locating his absent wife.
It had only been a couple of hours since she’d left. But it was late, and she’d been tired and she’d promised to come back after moonset to make sure he wasn’t tearing the chalet to bits…
She wouldn’t break a promise like that. She just wouldn’t.
Harry would call him paranoid. Dora, who was probably sat quietly on a bench somewhere enjoying the moonlight, was likely to whack him soundly with whatever object first came to hand for being so damned stupid. But Remus knew he would take whatever punishment was doled out, domestic or official, just to be certain that his wife and unborn daughter were safe and sound.
Perhaps he should have waited longer. But he’d listened and listened for the creak of the door, for the one scent in a myriad of confusing odours that he could have picked out from his grave, for a low voice, just checking he wasn’t ripping himself to pieces. He’d waited and waited and waited. And finally, when the worry had outweighed the sensible corner of Remus’s head that was saying he should hardly go wandering about in the open transformed, he’d pulled down the key he’d hidden on a nearby shelf, awkwardly fitted it into the lock in the door with his teeth and let himself out. And then he’d seen her wand sitting on the table and the last of his doubts had disappeared. He’d grabbed it off the table and clawed open the door.
Her scent hadn’t been hard to find. It coated the cabin from end to end. And then he’d picked up the freshest of her odours from amongst the horde of smells and, ignoring the terrible discordant wailing coming from the Bubblins karaoke contest, he’d slipped out into the darkness and made off in the direction of the sea front.
If anyone saw him, the trouble he would get into didn’t bear thinking about. But some things were more important.
She’d travelled along the sea front. Inexperienced as Remus was in the art of scent recognition, he’d quickly got the hang of Dora’s and he recognised the slightly tense twang that her odour tended to develop on full moon nights, compared to the fuller, more relaxed scent of their earlier stroll that he’d picked up traces of nearby. But he wasn’t scared and she wasn’t nervous, she was just wandering along and…
Shock.
It was like a nasal explosion. Remus ground to a standstill as he rolled up beside the closed snack kiosk, snuffling at the paving and the wall beside it in a manner that his human brain couldn’t help but absently reflect was distinctly unhygienic. But there was no denying the scent had changed, strengthened, gained potency… Something had happened here, something had…
CRASH!
The sound pierced the air and walloped against his sensitive ears, drawing his gaze at once to the run down old hotel on the promenade’s far side. A dull, musky, distant scent drifted over to his sensitive nose, something that made him think of mountains and, oddly enough, the Hogwarts potions classroom. And there was something else too, something dark and harsh and primally familiar…
Dark woods and rocky hideaways, thickets and brambles beneath the light of a burning full moon. Fur and teeth and a howl on the breeze…
His golden eyes stared into the shadows of the hotel doorway. Two golden eyes stared back.
I know him.
Even as Remus’s human brain struggled to acknowledge the shock of seeing another werewolf, deep inside, the instinctive corner beaten down but never destroyed by the wolfsbane was screaming at him. His mind flashed back almost against his will to the awful months with Greyback, to untamed, unpleasant transformations and a sea of ragged, hopeless faces living from one day to the next because they didn’t know what else to do. He’d talked to them, lived with them, struggled alongside them, seen them at their weakest and their strongest alike and on those full moon nights, they had been a mass of scents, a pack known one from the other not by their faces, but by their smell…
He’d been a new arrival, a recent recruit who’d been in the wrong place at the wrong time when Greyback had needed a Floo. He remembered the first time he’d smelled his scent, his first transformation with the pack. And in the morning, he remembered a narrow faced, angry man curled in a blanket as he bit the figurative head of anyone and anything for the turn his life had taken…
Narrow face. Greying hair. Bitter eyes.
St Mungo’s. The man in St Mungo’s. The Monster Master.
Bartolph. His name is Jack Bartolph.
And he’s here. And he’s staring at me. And if Dora saw him, before he transformed, if she recognised his face…
He sniffed the air once more, enough to leave him in no doubt. His wife’s scent was headed straight towards the hotel where Bartolph stood watching him.
It was only then that Remus realised he was growling. His wife’s wand dropped to the floor with a clatter.
If he’s touched her…
He needed to find his wife. He knew that. But right here in front of him, the werewolf form of a man who’d taken four innocent lives was staring at him with eyes far too knowing not to have a human mind behind them.
The wind was blowing off the shore. He could smell Bartolph but he could bet Bartolph couldn’t smell him. He had no idea who he was facing.
And he could catch him. Here and now. An even Quidditch field, two human-minded werewolves…
He tensed himself for the charge, to spring forwards, to leap, as best he could and bring the other werewolf down…
CRASH!
The window frames of the derelict hotel gave a noticeable shudder. Dust cascaded down in a spiral by the light of the stuttering lantern. And then, Remus heard the smashing of a pane of glass.
He looked up sharply just in time to see a pale and very familiar head appear out of the upstairs window. Her eyes fixed upon him and froze.
Dora.
She looked in tact. A little dusty perhaps and very tired, but she seemed whole enough and the expression on her face when she laid eyes on him was enough to tell him that his wife knew all about Jack Bartolph’s condition.
Oh Merlin. Does she think I’m him?
Stay there. Just stay there. I’ll deal with Bartolph and then I’ll come and…
It was inevitable. He should have known but yet somehow, it still came as a grim kind of shock.
His five months pregnant wife was climbing out of the window.
Oh no. Oh no, no, no, no…
Don’t you dare. Nymphadora Tonks, don’t you dare, you can’t climb out of that window, you know what’ll happen…
But she was. Her movements were awkward, made cumbersome by the jut of her belly but nonetheless, a foot was edging uncertainly out onto the distinctly crooked looking roof tiles as her fingers scrambled for purchase on the rotten wooden window frame. She was actually trying to leave that way. She knew there was a werewolf out here and the potential for a truly catastrophic fall and yet still she…
A shuddering crash shook the old building once more. Sweet Merlin, what was in there that was so much worse than the sheer potential for disaster involved in climbing out?
From the doorway, Bartolph was still staring at him. For the first time, Remus noticed that the other werewolf was bloodied and looking more than a little dazed.
But that was the least of his concerns.
If she falls… and she will fall, she’s Dora, she wouldn’t be Dora if she didn’t… A softer place to land. I need to find her a softer place to land…
Frantically, he searched the darkness. He had Dora’s wand of course, hurriedly snatched back up, but he had no idea if magic casting was even possible in werewolf form. He needed something soft, like cushions or a mattress, but even by emptying the nearby guesthouses, just how many cushions and mattresses would he need to soften a five story fall? He could hardly stretch out a sheet single-hand… single-pawed and fetching help of any description was bound to come too late, if anyone could even be found stupid enough to follow a frantic looking werewolf. But what else was there here that he could possibly…
His eyes fell upon the children’s play area. Upon the dark slide and the still swings.
Upon the trampoline…
Involving Dora with a trampoline was ninety percent likely to end in tears. But it was the best he was going to get.
His eyes flashed to Bartolph. If he tried to interfere…
But the doorway was empty. The other werewolf was gone.
Damn!
But there was no time for that now. His wife and daughter were more important.
Fortunately the play area was not gated but the trampoline had been locked in place with sturdy looking chains. Remus eyeballed them with profound frustration.
Well. This is as good a time as any to find out if a human minded werewolf can do magic…
Jostling Dora’s wand awkwardly in his teeth, Remus aimed it crookedly at the padlock the held the cluster of chains in place. And then, screwing up his eyes, he concentrated with every fibre of his soul.
Alohamora! Alohamora! Alohamora! Aloha-bloody-mora! Come on, please! Alohamora! ALOHAMORA!
It was barely a spark. A stuttering half-glint of a thing. But on a rusty old Muggle padlock, it was just enough.
The lock clicked and fell open.
Yes! YES!
The metal rim was cold and hard within his teeth, but Remus honestly didn’t care. Dragging the awkward frame with all his might, he grimly began to pull.
* * *
Remus. It’s Remus.
She hadn’t been sure. Not really. Not until she’d slipped her first tentative, exploratory foot out of the window and had seen the look that had crossed the lupine face upturned below. Human or wolf, only Remus Lupin could glare at her quite like that. She could almost hear the inaudible scolding written large in those golden eyes. He hated it when she put herself in danger.
Normally she’d call him an overprotective prat and insist she could take care of herself. But on this occasion, she had to concede that he probably had something of a point.
Mind you, what the bloody hell is he doing out here anyway? The trouble he might get into! Remus Lupin, you hypocrite!
Tiles skidded and scrambled beneath her feet. Splinters of woodworm riddle wood dug into her fingernails. Worrying about the trouble Remus might get into was far better than pondering the trouble she was already in.
But wait a minute. Where was he going? What was he doing in the children’s play…
Oh no.
It was better than the alternative. She had to admit that. But a trampoline?
Dragging it was proving no easy task for her lupine husband, the metal rim grasped within his teeth as he hauled it rather noisily across the paving stones. She could see light flickering on in the neighbouring guest house windows.
Hello police? Yes, there’s a big grey dog stealing a trampoline…
Harry is going to kill us. Again…
The building shuddered profoundly. Tonks could see an enormous grey head trying to force its way up through the crumbling floorboards.
Well, it was the trampoline or the graphorn. Tonks was fairly certain no such choice had ever had to be made in the history of the world before.
And the baby…
Why did I get myself into this? Why am I so bloody stupid?
Hold on, my little girl. I’m so sorry about the rough ride.
Remus was almost in position now, straining madly as he pulled the trampoline into place with all his might. By the light of the lamp, Tonks could now see that the play equipment was not the only thing he was carrying.
Is that my wand? If he’s put tooth marks in it, I swear…
But there was no more time. The building was shaking madly now under the force of the graphorn’s repeated assaults. It was unlikely to survive much longer.
And neither would she if she didn’t…
Let go.
Her fingers parted. Her feet gave way. Eyes to the stars and back to the earth, Nymphadora Tonks was falling.
The night sky rushed away. Something seemed to enfold her, soften her fall, slow her descent, but Remus was a werewolf now, surely he couldn’t have…
She hit the trampoline. The stars rushed back at her again.
But the bounce was minimal, softened by the strange, slowing force that had caught her. After a mere couple of ricochets, the material caught her and rippled to stillness.
For a moment, Tonks could only lie there, staring in shock up at the crumbling frontage, the lamplight and the mass of stars. But then suddenly her peaceful resting place gave a shudder as a grey, four legged shape leapt onto the sheet of material and stumbled almost comically to her side.
A rough haired muzzle nudged at her face, her wand grasped within sharp, vicious teeth. Golden eyes stared down in obvious concern.
And it was Remus.
It didn’t matter that the grey, sharp-toothed face just inches from hers was the stuff of many people’s nightmares. It didn’t matter than the eyes were not the warm, familiar brown that she so loved. He was there in the anxious twitch of wolfish brows, in a frown so familiar as to be disconcerting, in the turn of his head and the fear and love in his eyes. He was there.
It didn’t matter what he looked like. He’d said it often enough to her - no matter what she looked like, she would always know her. And now she knew that she felt just the same.
Echoing crashes sounded above. A piece of masonry hit the edge of the trampoline with a worrying clang.
A furry head butted sharply against her shoulder. Tonks couldn’t help but feel it had a point.
“I’m moving, I’m moving!”
Making good headway on the springy surface was no mean feat, but spurred on by the clatter of the collapsing hotel, Tonks made it off the side of the trampoline in fairly short order. With her lupine husband at her side, she bolted across the promenade and into the shadow of the snack kiosk.
They were only just in time.
With a series of crashes that were almost sigh-like, dust and rubble expelled itself through three floors worth of windows. The roof sagged. The boards tumbled. And somewhere deep inside, the graphorn gave a long and echoing scream. Its weight had finally outweighed the strength of the fragile floorboards.
Poor thing. It wasn’t its fault that nutter werewolf dragged it into this, Even if it did try to stomp me…
A cold chill lodged in her chest. Had he woken before the building tumbled? Had the Monster Master escaped or been crushed as well?
A part of her whispered it would serve him right. Another part of her swam with guilt.
Tonks ducked back into the shadow of the kiosk and knelt gently beside her husband. Remus still had her wand clamped between his jaws.
“You cushioned my fall.” The words slipped out. “With my wand. As a wolf. Remus, that’s bloody amazing.”
His head twitched and ducked in that daft modest way it always did when someone was giving him some kind of compliment. A cold nose nuzzled against her skin.
Are you okay? She could almost hear the unspoken question that lingered in his eyes and motions. Are you both okay?
She rested her hand against her belly. An indignant little wriggle indicated that her passenger had not enjoyed the ride but was very much still awake to acknowledge it.
Oh, the adventures you’ve had before you’ve even seen the light, my little girl…
“I’m okay,” she whispered softly, her other hand reaching up to touch the wiry muzzle. “I think we both are. Oh, Remus. ”
Unthinkingly, her hands whipped out and wrapped around the furry neck. She felt him half start back in shock but he didn’t pull away from the embrace.
I bet there aren’t many people who can say they’ve hugged a transformed werewolf… Mind you…
“You know,” she said, quietly but with a distinct of cheek. “It doesn’t matter what form you’re in. You still have bony shoulders, Remus Lupin.”
A cold nose plunged into her ear in retort. She topped onto her backside with a thud and laughed.
“Prat!” The swipe caught his nose. “I should be so angry with you! What if you’d got seen out and about, hmm?”
The look that Remus offered in return was a quiet eloquent, if silent, tirade on the matter of her being one to talk under the circumstances. The prod at her pregnant belly was pointed and reproachful.
“Yeah, yeah, I know, I’m a bloody idiot.” Tonks sighed. “But I can explain…”
Her voice tailed off. The look in his eyes was enough.
“You saw him. You know he’s the Monster Master?” A nod. “Did you recognise him? He mentioned Greyback…” Another nod, this one solid. “Did he get out?” Another emphatic nod. Tonks was always glancing into the shadows as she pulled herself awkwardly to her feet. “He may still be around. We need to…”
This time it was a shake. Remus showed his muzzled against her hand, pushing the wand into it but the expression on those wolfish features was not that of a man hoping to join his wife on a werewolf hunting expedition. With a jerk of his head, he gestured towards the nearby houses.
All along the promenade, lights were flickering into life. Pyjama clad Muggles were beginning to appear in doorways. In the distance, the blue lights of Muggle law enforcement vehicles moved steadily in their direction.
Oh boy. A derelict hotel collapsing was one thing for Muggles to deal with. Finding the mangled corpse of a freakish rhino in the remains would be quite another.
Tonks lifted her wand. “Harry?”
The nod was emphatic once more. Harry.
Rubbing one hand against her husband’s wiry head, Tonks raised her wand. A moment later, his luminescent twin galloped away into the night.
* * *
Harry had been cross. Teddy had been crosser.
But disaster at Bubblins had been averted. Lives, if not eardrums, had almost certainly been saved. Annoyed as Harry had been with both his former teacher for venturing out on a full moon night and his workmate for going after wizarding Britain’s most wanted alone, unarmed and pregnant, he had given them both their due for that.
Bartolph, alas, had not been caught. As the clean up at the hotel had got under way in liaison with the bewildered but compliant local police force, Remus had discreetly followed his scent with Harry for the remainder of the full moon night. But Bartolph had found a wizarding house with a fireplace and a dog flap. Spilled Floo powder had told its own story. And so Harry had walked them both back to the chalet so Remus could change back, helped them pack and sent them to St Mungo’s with emphatic orders to go straight home afterwards and bloody well stay out of trouble. He wasn’t, he informed them pointedly, going to ask them again.
The hospital had declared all three of them to be fine. And so they had headed home to catch up on some sleep.
Neither Remus nor Tonks had bothered to admonish the other for their actions on the full moon night. They had simply come to a silent agreement that both had been as bad as the other and let it go at that. Teddy’s lecture once they had woken the following afternoon, however, had lasted a good half an hour longer than Harry’s had. There had been gestures. He had crossed his arms. He had scolded them about how much they meant to him and what it would do to him to lose them again. Tonks loved her son dearly, but since she had never really known him until he was fully grown, there were disconcerting moments when it was hard to tell exactly who the parent in their relationship was. Although it galled her to admit it, she was honest enough to concede that there was enough of Remus in Teddy to mean that he was more often than not a great deal more mature than she was.
But there was enough of her in her son to mean he rarely stayed cross for long. Once the lecture was done, he made them dinner.
“Aren’t you going to have any ice cream on that?”
Tonks glared at her husband over the top of her chicken casserole. “It’s a craving,” she told him firmly. “As you well know.”
Teddy grinned as his hair dyed itself into three distinct stripes of brown, white and pink. He had been brought up to speed on his mother’s sticky antics. “From what dad’s said, I’ve always though Neopolita Lupin would be a lovely name for a girl. Though I do hope my new sister won’t be cold to me…”
“You’re both gits.” Tonks tucked into her casserole pointedly as she rubbed her tummy with her free hand. “I can’t wait for my little girl to come along so I’m not outnumbered by a family of rotten sods anymore.”
Remus smiled. “At least we know she’s durable, like her mother. She’s had an exciting ride with you so far.”
Tonks cocked an eyebrow at him. “And I think she may have inherited your bony shoulders. She’s been prodding me with something that sharp all afternoon.” She grinned slightly. “The bony shoulders of Remus Lupin, capable of transcending even a werewolf transformation. They’re just as sharp no matter what form you hug him in.”
Teddy’s eyes snapped up. He blinked. “You hugged a werewolf?” he exclaimed. But then his eyes widened as he stared at his father in horror. “Dad… I… Sorry! I’m sorry!” he scrambled desperately, dropping his fork in his haste to raise his hands. “I didn’t mean it like…”
“I know you didn’t.” Remus cut in to halt their son’s guilt before it could gather a head of steam. “Don’t worry, it’s fine.” He smiled slightly. “It came as somewhat of a surprise to me too, it has to be said.”
Tonks couldn’t help but smile. “I couldn’t help myself. You were sat there all furry and lupine but you were still so… well… you. The way you moved your head, your frown, those looks you gave me…” She sighed slightly as she looked up and met her husband’s eyes. “I’ve always said I don’t care what you are just like you’ve always said you don’t care what face I’m using. But you on wolfsbane - it’s just Remus Lupin in a big fur coat. And once I realised that, it didn’t matter what you looked like. You were just so completely yourself.” She chuckled quietly. “Even with those shoulders, what girl could resist hugging that?”
Remus actually laughed. “Most of them as it happens. Until I met you.”
She reached across and shoved his shoulder lightly. “Good thing you met me then.”
“I’m quite grateful,” Teddy chipped in cheerfully.
As Tonks joined in with the laughter of husband and son, she felt a bony little prod against her belly. She smiled.
Perhaps the Monster Master was still at large. Perhaps she could have done more to capture him. But all that mattered in the here and now was the safety of her baby and the laughter of her family.
There wasn’t much more she could want from life than that.
THE END