Scars, Part 22

[geri_chan]

Rating: NC-17 overall

Pairings: Snape/Lupin, Ash/Tsubasa; also a little Theodore/Blaise, Dylan/Hermione, and Aric/Takeshi

Author's note: {} Indicates character's unspoken thoughts.

Disclaimer: Based on the Harry Potter series by J.K. Rowling. No money is being made off this story; consider it a little wish fulfillment on my part.

Warning: AU. This story contains a character from Half-Blood Prince, but does not follow the HBP storyline.

Sequel to: Always, Summer Vacation, For Old Time's Sake, Three's a Crowd, Return of the Raven, Phoenix Reborn, Phoenix Rising, Aftermaths, The Revenant, Ash's Story, and Summer Vacation III.

Summary: Snape and Lupin investigate sanatoriums in Europe, and Greyback chooses his next victim.

Part 21
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So Snape and Lupin started off their holiday on a cheerful note, despite the circumstances that had led to it. They left Hogwarts on Friday night and started off their trip in Germany, renting a room at an upscale wizarding inn in Berlin.

"Much posher accommodations than I'm used to," Lupin admitted, glancing around the room with pleasure. "Not that I'm complaining. How did you find this place?"

"I attended a Potions conference in Berlin several years ago," Snape replied. "One of my German colleagues recommended this inn to me back then."

"I didn't know that you'd been to Germany before," Lupin said, a quizzical little smile lifting one corner of his mouth. "How odd, to think that there are things I still don't know about you, after all these years."

Snape shrugged and said, "The subject never came up before." Then he frowned at Lupin, who looked as though he didn't know whether to be intrigued or hurt by the admission that there were things he didn't know about his lover. "I wasn't trying to hide it," he said defensively.

"I know that, Severus," Lupin said, his smile growing more sincere, his good humor restored.

Snape smiled back at him, trying not to look too obviously relieved. "Well, in the interests of full disclosure," he said lightly, "perhaps I should mention that I've also been to America once--another Potions conference; France a couple of times; Japan several times, of course, while working on the Wolfsbane Potion; and I traveled to Egypt with Uncle Ali once when I was a child--"

"My, I had no idea that you were such an experienced traveler," Lupin laughed, leaning in to kiss Snape and cut off the catalogue of countries. "I'm a little envious."

"You shouldn't be," Snape replied. "They were all business or family trips, nothing special. If you really want to, we can go somewhere together for summer vacation."

"That sounds nice," Lupin murmured, winding his arms around Snape's neck. "But to be honest, Severus, what makes me most happy is just to be with you. It doesn't matter whether we're at Hogwarts or Snape Manor or some faraway tropical island."

Snape briefly considered the faraway tropical island option, then decided that it was more appealing in fantasy than reality; with his pale skin, he'd probably just end up sunburned and miserable. "How lucky for me that you're so easily satisfied, then," he said, wrapping his arms around Lupin.

"Are you calling me a cheap date, Severus?" Lupin joked.

"I'll have you know, this room was quite expensive," Snape retorted indignantly.

"Then we should make full use of it and get our money's worth," Lupin said coyly as he began moving backwards, pulling Snape along with him towards the bed. "Especially that nice big bed over there."

"For once, we're in complete agreement, Remus," Snape said with a grin, and they tumbled down onto the bed together in a tangle of limbs.
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They made love all night, then slept in late the next morning and ordered room service, enjoying a leisurely breakfast in bed. "Well, time for business," Snape said briskly when the last of the food was gone, and Lupin sighed regretfully, then pushed aside the empty breakfast plates.

They got dressed in the outfits that Snape had picked for their little charade: formal dress robes (black, of course) for Snape, as befit a man with enough wealth to install an unwanted relative in an expensive sanatorium for the rest of his life; and for Lupin, a set of robes that were of good quality but slightly faded and out of fashion, the kind of hand-me-downs that might be given to a poor relation of a wealthy family.

Snape also cast a small glamor to disguise his features on the off-chance that his notoriety might have reached far enough into Germany for the sanatorium staff to recognize him. "They might detect the charm," he said, "but they won't find it suspicious. It's common for their clients to use aliases and disguises to protect their identities."

Lupin's gray-streaked hair was already the correct shade for a werewolf, and Snape decided that he didn't need a glamor, only a few minor cosmetic changes. He gave Lupin a potion to drink that had no ill effects, but changed his skin to an unhealthy sallow shade, and he smudged a bit of kohl beneath Lupin's eyes to give him a weary, haggard look. The robes that Snape had picked out for Lupin were a couple of sizes too big, hanging loosely on his frame, making him look thinner than he really was, and adding to the overall image of ill health.

"Wow, I look horrible," Lupin said, admiring his reflection in the mirror. "You did a great job, Severus."

Snape smirked, preening slightly. "I was a spy for nearly two decades, after all," he said in a superior tone of voice. "Of course, most of the time I was playing myself, with varying loyalties, but occasionally I had to disguise myself to find out information." He frowned, looking over Lupin with a critical eye. "However, body language is just as important as appearance. You're trying to look cowed and frightened; keep your head down and hunch your shoulders a bit. And try not to look so bloody cheerful."

Lupin cringed in an exaggerated manner. "Yes, sir; whatever you say, sir."

Snape rolled his eyes. "We'll be lost if we have to rely on your acting skills, Lupin. Just try to keep your head down and let me do the talking."

"Yes, sir; whatever you say, sir."

"Oh, knock it off, Lupin! And remember that your name is John Smith."

"Very original."

"I told you, the staff expects us to use aliases. And you're not acting very cowed."

"Sorry, Sev...er, I mean, Mr. Smith."

Snape heaved a sigh and rolled his eyes again.
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However, Lupin's mischievous mood quickly vanished when they arrived at the sanatorium. Much to his surprise, the place appeared to be no different from a legitimate hospital--at least on the surface. He had been expecting something dark and gloomy, like the dungeons of Hogwarts. Instead, the sanatorium was clean and well-lit, the walls painted in soothing pastel colors. The staff consisted of brisk, efficient mediwizards and witches; cheerful, smiling nurses; and burly male attendants who presumably provided any needed muscle, but they somehow managed to project an aura that was more reassuring than threatening. The Director of the sanatorium was a plump, well-dressed middle-aged wizard who looked more like a prosperous businessman than the Dark Wizard that Lupin had expected.

However, as the Director took them on a tour of the sanatorium, Lupin began to notice hints that things here were not all sweetness and light. The patients' rooms were comfortably, even luxuriously appointed, but the doors could all be locked and barred from the outside, and each door was set with a panel of enchanted one-way glass that allowed the mediwizards to view the patients, but not the other way around. Some of the rooms contained windows that let sunlight in, but the Director assured Severus that the windows did not open and were made of unbreakable glass.

The Director allowed them to look in on the patients, and Lupin saw that they appeared to be clean and well-fed, and showed no signs of physical abuse. One woman sat quietly at a desk, reading a book. A man about Lupin's age sat on his bed, hugging a teddy bear to his chest as he rocked back and forth, crooning tunelessly to himself. A few others lay on their beds, either sleeping or staring blankly up at the ceiling. Except for the sleeping ones, they all had the vacant-eyed look of the drugged.

It turned Lupin's stomach, and he kept his head down, letting his hair fall forward across his face to hide his look of disgust; Severus merely nodded approvingly. Lupin appreciated his lover's acting abilities, because he knew that he'd never be able to pull off such an act successfully. Fortunately, even if the Director noticed Lupin's revulsion, it probably wouldn't seem out of character for a werewolf who was being committed to a sanatorium against his will.

"He is a werewolf, but he is still family," Severus told the Director. "We want the very best of care for him."

"Of course," the Director agreed with a smile.

"I assume that you have experience in dealing with lycanthropy?" Severus asked. "Do you have any werewolves in residence at the moment?"

"Yes, we do," the Director replied with no sign of hesitation. "As a matter of fact, we have three such patients at the moment. Here is one of them." He led them to another door and allowed them to peer through the window to observe another drugged-looking man lying on a bed. "He went feral before his family had him captured and brought here," the Director explained. "But with the proper medication, he is harmless to himself and the staff. And of course, every month all our werewolf patients receive the Wolfsbane Potion, which is made here on the premises by a licensed potion-brewer. Patients are confined to their rooms for the night of the full moon, but they are not caged or chained. It only unduly stresses the patients, and they are quite docile under the influence of the Wolfsbane. If a patient is inclined to be...ah...nervous during the waxing moon, a mild sedative is added to the potion. Unlike certain other facilities, we treat our werewolf patients with utmost gentleness and care."

"So it seems," Severus replied with another approving nod. "If it is permitted, may I observe the other two werewolves in your care?"

"You already saw one--the gentleman with the teddy bear," the Director said. "His parents tried an experimental potion on him before the Wolfsbane Potion was invented, and unfortunately, it left him feeble-minded. However, our third patient came to us in much better condition, and she is doing quite well. Allow me to introduce you. Perhaps that will set your mind--" He smiled reassuringly at Lupin. "--and your cousin's mind at ease."

The Director led them up a flight of stairs and down a corridor to a spacious room. A few patients were sitting at a large table, quietly drawing and painting with crayons and watercolors. At a smaller table, two men were playing checkers; at another, a woman was working on a jigsaw puzzle. There were also a comfortable-looking sofa and a few armchairs scattered across the room where other patients were leafing through books and magazines--looking more at the pictures than the words, Lupin noticed, and one woman was knitting what appeared to be a pink doily with plastic blunt-tipped needles. A couple of the burly attendants stood watch while two nurses circulated around the room, stopping here and there to praise the artists' work, offer encouragement to the checker players, and compliment the knitter on her lovely doily.

"This is our community room," the Director said proudly. "Nonviolent patients are allowed to relax and socialize here--always under staff supervision, of course."

"Of course," Snape echoed. "I must admit, this is a far more, ah, enlightened situation than I expected to find."

"We pride ourselves on keeping our patients happy as well as safe," the Director replied. He stopped by the table where the patients were drawing and painting, and said, "This is Elsie," smiling indulgently at a young woman who was painting a field of flowers. "As you can see, she is quite the artist." In German, he said, "Elsie, this is Mr. Smith and his cousin John. John is a werewolf like you, and he might come to live here with us."

Elsie looked up and smiled at them. She was young, perhaps twenty, more of a girl than a woman, with pale blonde hair and dreamy-looking, slightly glazed blue eyes. "Hello, John," she said in German. "Hello, Mr. Smith."

"Good day, Miss," Severus replied. "Are you happy here? Well-treated?"

The Director translated his questions for Elsie, and also translated the girl's reply, that she was happy and everyone at the sanatorium was very nice to her. Since Lupin could speak German, he knew that the Director had translated her words accurately, but even if he hadn't been able to understand the language, Elsie's smile and relaxed demeanor made it obvious that she wasn't frightened or unhappy.

Lupin hesitated, then said timidly, "I can speak a little German," hoping that he wasn't breaking his cover.

"Good," the Director said heartily, not seeming at all suspicious. "Then you can have a nice chat with Elsie while I speak with your cousin." He and Severus moved a short distance away, discussing treatments and prices, while Lupin pulled up a chair next to Elsie.

"Are you really going to live here?" she asked hopefully. "It would be nice to have a friend who is also a werewolf. There are two other werewolves here, but you can't really talk to them, because they're...well...not right in the head."

"Are you really happy here, Elsie?" Lupin whispered, so that the Director would not overhear him. "You don't want to go home?"

She shook her head vigorously. "No! I like it here. Here, everyone is nice to me and nobody calls me a monster."

"People at home called you a monster?" Lupin asked.

Elsie nodded, her eyes filling with tears. "Father said it would be better if I had never been born. Mother tried to be kind, but...I could see in her eyes that she was afraid of me. She would never touch me or hug me like she did my brother and sister."

"I'm sorry," Lupin said softly, feeling guilty for upsetting her, but also taken aback by her statement that she liked living at the sanatorium. He had never imagined that anyone would voluntarily allow themselves to be locked up in what was essentially a prison, albeit a rather luxurious one.

He glanced over at the other patients who shared their table, but they were engrossed in their drawing, and didn't seem to be paying any attention to the conversation. Still, just to be on the safe side, Lupin lowered his voice to a whisper that only a werewolf could hear, and said, "There are places where a werewolf can live free, you know. In Britain, werewolves are equal to humans under the law." Of course, that law might well be changed if Arthur lost his job, but Lupin decided not to mention that little complication right now.

"Really?" Elsie asked skeptically. "Then why did your cousin bring you here?"

"My parents recently died, and my uncle, the new head of our family, would prefer that I remain out of sight so that I do not disgrace the family honor," Lupin replied, giving the cover story that Severus had invented. "My, er, cousin is humoring his father, but he is fond of me, and he won't force me to stay here against my will."

"But then what will you do, if your family doesn't want you?" Elsie asked.

"I can sever ties to my clan and take a new name," Lupin replied. "I would have to earn a living and support myself, but there is a pack of free werewolves living in London that will help and befriend any werewolf who has no family of his own. They would help you, too, Elsie."

"Me?" Elsie gasped, her eyes going wide with shock.

"Yes," Lupin said. "I will help you, if you wish to escape." Severus probably wouldn't be too happy that he'd promised to help a patient escape from the sanatorium, but he couldn't just leave her here.

"Oh no, no, no!" Elsie exclaimed, shaking her head again. "I don't want to leave! I like it here!"

"But...don't you want to be free?" Lupin asked, puzzled and distressed by her resistance.

Elsie smiled sadly at him. "Even if werewolves are supposed to be equal in Britain, I bet people still hate and fear them, like your uncle."

Lupin nodded reluctantly. "But not everyone is like that. My parents loved me and did their best to protect me, and I have friends who don't care that I'm a werewolf."

"I'm not brave like you, John," Elsie said quietly. "I'm scared of being on my own, and I'm tired of having people look at me like I'm a monster. Here, no one is afraid of me. The nurses and mediwizards are kind to me. Sometimes even the Director will stop by, like today, and tell me how pretty my paintings are. I don't want to leave."

Lupin was about to speak, but fell silent when Severus and the Director returned. "And how are we doing?" the Director asked cheerfully.

"Elsie was telling me how happy she is here," Lupin replied honestly.

"I am sure that you will like it here, too, if you decide to stay with us," the Director said pleasantly.

Lupin gave him a forced smile in return, but the man didn't seem to take it amiss. Elsie aside, few patients entered a sanatorium willingly, and a little initial reluctance was probably normal, even expected.

"I shall have to talk it over with my family," Severus said smoothly. "I was very impressed with the facilities, although I suspect my father might balk at the price."

"As you have seen, we spare no expense in seeing to our patients' comfort and safety," the Director replied with equal smoothness; Lupin almost expected to see oil start oozing out of his pores. "Their families can rest assured that their loved ones are being well cared for."

"I shall do my best to persuade my father," Severus said. "Thank you for taking the time to meet with us." He discreetly handed the Director a small pouch of coins; it seemed to be an expected bribe or gratuity, because the man just smiled and pocketed it without comment.

"Not at all, Mr. Smith. It was my pleasure."

The Director shook hands with Severus, and even offered his hand to Lupin, who shook it reluctantly, then finally they were able to leave and Apparate back to their room at the inn.

"I am so glad to be out of that place!" Lupin exclaimed with a sigh of relief.

"Conditions there are much better than any other sanatorium I've ever heard of," Snape said with a shrug. "And the accommodations are far more luxurious than you would find even in a legitimate hospital like St. Mungo's. But a gilded cage is still a cage, I suppose."

"He bragged about how happy his patients were," Lupin said angrily. "Drugged into a stupor is more like it!"

"Most of the patients are given a special potion made of lotus root and poppy juice that keeps them placid and content," Snape agreed. "It's highly addictive, but since the patients are fed regular doses and aren't likely to ever leave the sanatorium, there's no danger of them suffering from withdrawal."

"I offered to help Elsie escape," Lupin said abruptly.

His lover stared at him blankly, his words taking a few moments to sink in. Then Severus exclaimed in dismay, "Lupin! I know you feel sorry for the girl, but do you have any idea how difficult--not to mention dangerous--it would be to try to break a patient out of that place?! The security measures there--"

"Don't worry, Sev," Lupin interrupted with a bleak smile. "Elsie refused my offer. Her own family treated her with such fear and contempt that the sanatorium seems like a safe haven in comparison. She says that everyone there is kind to her, and they don't treat her like a monster. I tried to convince her that she could live freely and make other friends if she escaped, but she's afraid of the outside world."

"Maybe she's right to be," Severus said dryly. "Look how quickly the old fears and prejudices have returned in Britain." Lupin sighed unhappily, and Severus said in an uncharacteristically gentle voice, "I'm sorry, Remus. I know how you must feel, but at least the girl...Elsie...is safe and happy."

Lupin repressed the urge to retort that Severus couldn't know how he felt, not being a werewolf himself. That wasn't fair; Severus had certainly endured more than his fair share of prejudice, and he had, in a sense, been held captive by his bond to Voldemort for nearly two decades.

Severus placed a hand on his shoulder, and Lupin relaxed, drawing comfort from his mate's touch. "Thank you, Severus," Lupin said, laying his hand over Severus's and giving him a shaky but sincere smile. "I know that some people value security over freedom." In a way, he had not been much different from Elsie as a student at Hogwarts, Lupin reminded himself guiltily. He had valued the security of the Marauders' friendship, and had been afraid to break away from the group, even when his conscience was troubled by some of their more malicious pranks. "But still," Lupin sighed, "it all seems so sad, somehow. I wish there were something more I could do."

"Well, we could report the sanatorium to the authorities," Severus replied. "But I suspect that they're already bribing someone in the German Ministry. And even if we did manage to shut the place down, the patients would probably just be transferred to other government or private institutions that are far less comfortable."

"No, you're right," Lupin admitted. "It would be wrong to disrupt Elsie's and the patients' lives unless we can make sure that they'll be better off than they were before. But that doesn't mean I have to be happy about it."

"Perhaps it would be better if I went to the other two sanatoriums alone," Severus said, frowning at Lupin in concern.

"No!" Lupin protested firmly, shaking off his melancholy. "I came along to protect you, and that's what I intend to do. What would I tell your mother if I let you get hurt because I was sitting around feeling sorry for myself?"

"You are being melodramatic, Lupin," Snape said, looking relieved and amused. "The danger is minimal, and I am perfectly capable of defending myself."

"Of course, dear, but please humor me," Lupin said placatingly. Severus rolled his eyes, but didn't argue further, and Lupin gave him a kiss as a reward. "By the way," Lupin asked, belatedly remembering the purpose of their trip, "did you find out anything useful?"

"Not unless by 'useful,' you mean that we've eliminated one location as the source of our rogue werewolf," Severus replied, grimacing. "While you were planning your little prison break, I questioned the Director about their security arrangements and whether a patient had ever escaped. He assured me, most emphatically, that no one had ever escaped from the sanatorium, and in fact, none of his patients want to leave. I also questioned him about prior werewolf patients, and he says that they haven't had any others for the past several years. Not that I would expect him to tell me the truth if he had lost a patient, but I didn't sense any hint of prevarication."

"Well, one down, two to go," Lupin sighed.

"Ready to go to Bulgaria?" Severus asked.

"Not really, but let's get it over with."
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The Bulgarian sanatorium was much more like what Lupin had imagined, down to the dank stone walls, encrusted with patches of moss here and there, and the rooms that made no pretense of being cells. Each cell was furnished with a cot and not much else. The staff informed them that more amenities could be purchased for an additional fee, but Lupin got the impression that most of their clients didn't bother. All they wanted was for their inconvenient relatives to be locked up out of sight, and they didn't much care what happened to them afterwards, although they must have had some faint sliver of conscience or they would simply have killed off those relatives instead of paying to have them locked up. Personally, Lupin would rather be dead than spend the rest of his life as a prisoner, and he felt himself tremble with anger. He kept his head down and his face hidden, so the staff mistook his anger for fear, and from the corner of his eye, he saw them smirk maliciously, obviously savoring his imagined terror. And he was only a visitor, a prospective patient; Merlin only knew what they did to the poor wretches in their care. Lupin had to clench his fists, his fingernails biting painfully into his palms, to stop himself from physically attacking the sanatorium staff and wiping those smirks off their faces.

Severus must have noticed, because he gave Lupin a quelling look, then asked the Bulgarian Director about the treatment program for werewolves. Extra security measures were taken with werewolf patients, he was assured, and they were chained and caged during the full moon.

"Is that necessary, with the Wolfsbane Potion?" Severus asked calmly.

"The Wolfsbane Potion costs extra," the Director told him. "It's not worth the expense to most of our clients, especially since werewolves heal their wounds so quickly. Any damage they inflict on themselves during the full moon is usually gone by the next morning. But of course the potion can be provided if you are willing to pay the cost."

Lupin's nails bit deeper into his flesh, and he saw a brief flash of anger in Severus's black eyes before he quickly regained control of himself and resumed his mask of indifference. "Indeed, as you say, not worth the expense. I would like to question you further about your security measures..."

Lupin saw no sign of any spell being cast, but he knew that Severus must be using Legilimency on the staff. From his own viewpoint, Lupin didn't sense any nervousness or other hints that they might be lying, but it was difficult to concentrate when every cell that they passed by made him increasingly furious and nauseous. Some of the patients lay on their cots, looking drugged like the patients in the German facility, although less clean and less well-fed, and without that look of dreamy contentment. But others howled or wailed like animals, beating on the barred doors of their cells. Severus asked to see the werewolf patients, and they were led to a cell containing a very dirty, hairy, and unkempt man; judging by the length of his beard, he must have been imprisoned here for several years. The werewolf stared at them with reddened, maddened eyes as he howled in anguish and rage; no doubt he had been driven insane by his captivity. He started to reach out through the bars with one hand, and Lupin wasn't sure if he was trying to strike out at his captors, or if the gesture was a desperate plea for help, or if he simply craved a little human touch and companionship.

Lupin would never know, because one of the attendants whipped out a wand and shot a stunning spell at the werewolf, hurling him across the cell until he hit the wall with a bone-crunching thud, then slid limply to the ground.

"You do not have very good control over your patients," Severus said coldly, as Lupin fought to keep his inner wolf under control. They were in no danger as long as they stayed clear of the cell door; there had been no need, save sadistic pleasure, to use such a violent spell on the werewolf patient. He wanted to give the attendant a taste of his own medicine, to grab him and slam him against the wall, to let him know how it felt to be hurt and bullied...

Lupin was visibly trembling, and Severus said, "Control yourself, John," his voice still cold, but Lupin caught a flash of sympathy in his eyes. That was enough to keep the wolf from attacking, although Lupin couldn't completely still his shaking, but the staff didn't seem unduly alarmed; they were probably mistaking his trembling for fear again.

"Werewolves are dangerous beasts," the Director said. "They need to be shown who's boss once in awhile." He turned to the attendant. "However, make a note that Mr. Petrov should receive a stronger sedative in the future."

"Yes, sir."

Mercifully, the rest of the tour was brief, but Lupin felt physically ill by the time it was over. He must have looked it, because as soon as they returned to the inn, Severus asked, "Are you all right, Remus?" Just the fact that he was using the name "Remus" instead of "Lupin" was a giveaway that he was worried. Normally, he always used "Lupin" in everyday conversation; Severus usually called him by his first name only in bed, or when he was feeling particularly tender or concerned.

That concern was enough to make Lupin smile, if a bit wanly, and reply, "Yes, Severus. But please tell me that you found out something useful and that we didn't go to that horrible place for nothing."

"I'm afraid not," Severus said apologetically. "The security is good, but not as good as the German sanatorium, and a truly determined and resourceful wizard could manage to break a patient out, I think. However, once again I detected no sign of a lie when I asked if a werewolf had ever escaped from their tender care. They did admit that a few patients have died of 'natural causes,' which I suspect were suicides, but that doesn't help us find our murderer."

Lupin sighed and asked dispiritedly, "Even if we discover that our rogue werewolf escaped from a particular sanatorium, how does that help us? He's long gone by now."

"The staff might know his true identity," Snape pointed out logically. "If we know where he is from and whom his family is, we know where he might go to hide and whom he might seek out for help--or whom he might seek revenge on. At the very least, we'd have a name and description to give to the Aurors."

"You're right, Severus," Lupin said, chiding himself for his self-pity. "Do you think that we can manage to shut down that sanatorium, though? There's no way in hell that anyone can argue that those poor patients are happy in that place--not even a drug-induced happiness."

Severus thought it over, then nodded. "I'll speak to Krum. He's still a Quidditch star, and according to Dylan, he and Miss Granger have maintained their friendship even though their...ah...romantic inclinations have died out."

Lupin smiled. "I think the inclinations were mostly one-sided, on Viktor's part."

"Yes, well, it seems that he has recovered from his broken heart, because he is currently dating a female member of his team, according to the gossip magazines. In any case, he might be willing to do us a favor, and he's famous enough to exert a little influence on the Bulgarian Ministry. But before we set things into motion, I'll look into finding legitimate institutions that the patients can be transferred to. I doubt that most of them are capable of taking care of themselves at this point."

"Thank you, Severus," Lupin said, giving him a hug and a kiss. "Then at least some good will come out of this."

Severus kissed him back and asked, "Feeling better?"

"A little," Lupin replied, hugging him again. He was glad that they were doing something constructive to help the sanatorium patients, but it saddened him to know that they were probably permanently damaged by their captivity, and would never be able to lead normal lives. He was also saddened by the thought of Elsie, held captive more by her own fears than the walls of the sanatorium. He held Severus tighter, breathing in his scent and soaking in the warmth of his body. They were so close that Lupin could feel Severus's heart beating in his chest, and he felt soothed by that steady rhythm.

Severus patiently held Lupin until he calmed down and his grip loosened, then pulled back slightly and asked, "Feeling well enough to get some lunch? Our appointment to visit the Romanian sanatorium isn't until tomorrow. You said you wanted to make a holiday of this trip; let's go out and play tourist and forget about sanatoriums and murderers for a little while."

Lupin didn't have much of an appetite, but he didn't want to worry Severus further, so he agreed, and they sought out the restaurant he had visited during his last trip to Germany. The restaurant was still there, and the food was as good as he remembered, and Lupin found that he did feel better after having something to eat.

After lunch, they did a little sightseeing and bought some souvenirs to take back home for the boys and for their friends--or rather, "For your friends, since I don't have any," Severus quipped, his face and voice both utterly deadpan.

"Nonsense, Severus," Lupin chuckled. "There are more people who care about you than you know." Then he added airily, "Besides, my friends are your friends."

"I beg to differ," Severus said, giving him a look of indignation that was perhaps not entirely feigned. "And I'm sure that Black and Potter junior would, too."

"Oh, I don't believe that the three of you hate each other as much as you like to pretend," Lupin said in that cheery tone of voice that he knew always drove his lover up the wall. He had to admit, teasing Severus was helping to cheer him up. Maybe he did have a bit of Slytherin in him, for all that Severus liked to complain about his Gryffindor idiocy.

"Clearly you are delusional, Lupin," Snape said disgustedly. "A common Gryffindor trait." But the corners of his mouth twitched just the slightest bit, betraying a hint of a smile that only someone who knew him as well as Lupin did would recognize.
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Later that night, they had dinner at the inn, which was crowded and noisy, filled with witches and wizards celebrating All Hallows Eve with food, laughter, music, and dancing--and copious amounts of alcohol. Lupin ordered a tankard of the inn's lager and declared it very good. Snape tried a sip at Lupin's urging, then shrugged and said, "I'll take your word for it." When he indulged in alcohol, he preferred a fine wine or brandy over ale. Actually, Lupin didn't usually drink it, either, but it was typical of the werewolf to want to try out the local food and drink, and immerse himself in the local customs while on holiday, with an almost childlike delight.

That delight was enough to keep Snape in the inn's dining area despite the noise and the crowd, things he normally avoided. He had never been much for partying, and spending an evening with a bunch of drunken strangers wasn't his idea of a good time. But Lupin finally looked relaxed and happy, after having been so upset about the sanatorium patients, particularly the young female werewolf, so Snape held his peace and tried to look like he was enjoying himself.

"Would you like to dance?" Lupin asked suddenly.

Snape groaned inwardly, but gamely attempted a smile and said, "If you like, but you do realize that we'll attract quite a bit of attention..."

Lupin burst into laughter and said, "I was just teasing, Severus. I know that you're not one for public displays of affection; you must really be worried about me!" Then he smiled tenderly at Snape. "I'm all right now, really, but it makes me happy that you were willing to risk public humiliation for my sake. Just the thought is enough for me."

Snape was so relieved that he wasn't even annoyed at the idiot werewolf for teasing him...at least, not too much. "Keeping you amused is always my highest priority, Lupin," he said in an only slightly sarcastic voice.

"I was more touched than amused, Severus," Lupin said softly, reaching over to gently squeeze Snape's hand for just a moment, releasing it before anyone else noticed. He drained his tankard, then asked, "Shall we go back upstairs now?"

"You don't want to stay and celebrate Halloween?" Snape asked, although he hoped the answer would be "no".

Lupin shook his head. "I told you before that I wanted to celebrate Halloween with you. Privately."

He smiled in a sultry way that caused Snape to hastily rise to his feet. "As you wish, Remus. Did you have anything particular in mind?"

Lupin leaned over and whispered into his ear, "I thought that instead of dressing up in a costume, perhaps I would wear nothing at all. Quite original, don't you think?"

"Quite," Snape agreed, a little hoarsely. "And that would indeed be best conducted in the privacy of our room."

"I'm so glad you agree," Lupin said sweetly and took Snape by the hand, leading him across the dining room and back up the stairs to the room they had rented. A few of the revelers at the inn gave them curious looks, but Snape didn't even notice, because his eyes were fixed solely on Lupin's face, oblivious to everything else around him.
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Back in England, Greyback was prowling the streets of Diagon Alley. The murders had made the public uneasy, but the festive atmosphere of Halloween, the most popular and important holiday in the wizarding world, seemed to have caused them to temporarily forget their fears.

{Idiot sheep,} Greyback thought to himself contemptuously. They deserved to be slaughtered if they were foolish enough to believe that they were safe just because it was a holiday.

But actually, the fact that it was a holiday was making it difficult for Greyback to cull a single sheep from the flock. The Macnair twins had given him permission to hunt tonight, since it would strike even more fear into the heart of the wizarding world to take a victim on All Hallow's Eve, a night associated with death and Dark Magic. However, as usual, he'd been ordered to be discreet, and the streets were too crowded for him to attack without being seen by witnesses.

So he bided his time, waiting for the crowd to thin, as he mingled with celebrants in the street, and even stopped by the Leaky Cauldron for a meal and a drink. Only the Death Eaters and a handful of Aurors were familiar with his face, so it was doubtful that anyone would have recognized him, but since it was Halloween, he took the opportunity to disguise himself, just to be on the safe side. He was dressed as the Grim Reaper, with a hooded black robe and a scythe, and a white skull mask hiding his face--an appropriate costume, he thought, grinning to himself behind the mask. The robe also served to hide the medallion he was wearing around his neck.

As he nursed a Firewhiskey, he overheard a group of young men and women talking about going to a shop called "Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes". The name "Weasley" caught his attention; the twins had told him that Arthur Weasley was the current Minister of Magic, and he couldn't imagine how that idiot had managed to survive the first war, let alone be promoted to head of the wizarding world. The man had been all idealism with no common sense, at least when Greyback had known him--or rather, known of him. He hadn't had much personal contact with Weasley, although Lucius Malfoy used to constantly rant about what a blood traitor Weasley was. Not that Greyback had any fondness for Malfoy, either, because he had made it clear that he regarded werewolves as less than human, on the same level with half-bloods, who were even worse than Mudbloods, in Malfoy's opinion, because they dared to sully pure wizarding blood with the filthy blood of Muggles.

But still, Arthur Weasley had been an enemy in the old days, and Greyback would savor the chance to strike at him through his cubs. It would be a particularly delicious sort of revenge, because a sentimental fool like Weasley would be much more devastated by an attack on his children than on himself. And practically speaking, it would put him in his lovely Lady Imogen's favor, because it would further weaken Arthur Weasley's standing as Minister. "How can he protect us, when he cannot even protect his own family?" the public would ask.

He continued listening in on the conversation, and learned that the shop, run by two of Arthur's sons, would be open late tonight. They were doing a booming business on Halloween, it seemed, selling fireworks and gag items like fake warts and noses, and potions that would change the color of one's skin or hair. One of the young men pointed out a woman across the room who appeared to be dressed as some kind of fanciful nymph with pale green skin and shimmering silver hair.

Greyback smiled with satisfaction and ordered another Firewhiskey. He would wait until closing time, then attack the Weasley boys when they were alone in their shop. It would be two against one, but if Greyback couldn't handle two inexperienced young pups, then he might as well turn himself back in to the sanatorium and put the chains back on himself.

He headed over to the shop late in the evening and browsed the shelves, along with a few other customers. The boys, who were obviously twins, chatted and bantered with each other as they worked, and he learned that they had two assistants, but had let them off work early so they could enjoy the holiday. That was good; Greyback had been counting on dealing with two victims, not four. It wasn't so much that he was afraid that four wizards combined could take him down, but more that the chances were likely that one of them might escape before he could kill them all.

One of the Weasley twins kept glancing at the clock hanging on the wall, and the other boy grinned knowingly. "Why don't you take off early, Fred?" he suggested. "I bet you're dying to get over to the Leaky Cauldron before they close."

"I...I don't know what you're talking about," Fred Weasley protested unconvincingly, his face flushing to match his hair.

"Come on," his brother laughed. "I know you have your eye on that pretty new waitress! Go on, it's nearly midnight; enjoy what's left of Halloween before it's over."

"Are you sure you don't mind?"

"No problem. There's only a few customers left, anyway. I'll close up in a bit and meet you there when I'm done."

Fred grinned and slapped his brother on the back. "Thanks, George; I owe you one!"

His twin laughed good-naturedly. "Don't worry, I'll collect on that favor when I have a hot date!"

"Like that'll ever happen!"

"Hey, don't make me change my mind, Brother!"

Fred laughed and waved at his twin as he left the shop. "All right, then; I'm gone! See you later, George--and thanks again!"

There were still customers in the shop, so Greyback watched Fred leave with a little regret, but in a way, this made things even easier for him. Now he had only one wizard to deal with, and although he would have liked to kill both of Arthur Weasley's twin sons, he would compensate by tearing the remaining boy into so many pieces that the Aurors would have to put him back together like a jigsaw puzzle in order to identify the body. Maybe the sight of his son's mutilated body would drive Arthur into a nervous breakdown, thereby removing the Minister of Magic from his position and putting the Macnairs one step closer to their goal of taking over the wizarding world. His forced servitude to the Macnairs still rankled, but there was nothing he could do about it right now, and besides, he had benefitted from their reluctant alliance. He had the medallion that allowed him to transform at will, and the tasks that he had been assigned were hardly onerous--hunting human prey was his favorite pastime, after all. And he would very much enjoy killing Arthur Weasley's offspring.

George took care of the remaining customers, and finally, only Greyback was left. "Well, Mr. Reaper," the boy said with a grin, "it's just about closing time. What can I do for you?"

Greyback automatically reached up to touch the medallion and concentrated on transforming into his humanoid wolf form. Since his face and most of his body were hidden by the mask and robe, the Weasley boy didn't notice the change right away.

"What you can do for me, Mr. Weasley, is to die," Greyback growled. He raised a fur-covered, claw-tipped hand and ripped the mask off his face. "But not right away. I'd like it if you screamed in pain for a little while first." He grinned, showing all of his razor-sharp teeth. "Or maybe a long while, although there is the danger of being interrupted if I take too long with you." He took out his wand and cast a silence spell on the shop, so that no one would hear the boy's screams, while George turned pale and fumbled in his robes for his own wand.
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Meanwhile, Bill Weasley had just got off work at Gringotts. His fiancee, Fleur, was pouting because they were supposed to have attended a Halloween party together, but he'd had to stay late at work in order to break a particularly stubborn and nasty curse on a valuable artifact. On top of that, she was already upset because the plans for their grand wedding were being overshadowed by his father's problems at the Ministry. Actually, Bill would have preferred something small and simple like his brother Percy's wedding, but Fleur wanted a big, extravagant celebration, and he wanted his bride to be happy. The twins grumbled that it seemed like Fleur was more worried about the wedding being canceled than about their father losing his job, but Bill knew that she was worried about Dad, too. It was just that she liked to vent her frustrations vocally, and it was easier for her to complain about the wedding plans, because no one wanted to say aloud that it was looking like Dad was going to get sacked, although everyone was thinking it.

Right now, however, Fleur's attention was focused solely on the missed party. "We were supposed to 'ave been there hours ago," she complained, with just a faint trace of the heavy French accent she'd possessed when she had first come to England. "It will be over by the time we get there!"

"The night is still young," Bill said. "I'm sure that the party will still be going on into the wee hours of the morning. Besides, you didn't have to wait until I finished work; I told you to go on ahead without me."

Fleur pouted, thrusting out her full lower lip in a way that made her look ridiculously childish, and yet eminently kissable at the same time. "It would 'ave been no fun without you there."

Bill leaned over and kissed her, and her eyes softened slightly, but her lips remained stubbornly set in that pout. He sighed and tried to think of a way to placate his fiancee. Normally he'd do it with candy or flowers, or maybe a piece of jewelry, but none of the shops were open this late at night. The Leaky Cauldron and a few other bars and pubs were staying open late because it was Halloween, but a tankard of ale or even a glass of wine wouldn't do for an "I'm sorry" gift. And then he remembered that Fred and George had been planning to keep the shop open till midnight tonight.

"Darling, why don't we stop by the twins' shop?" he suggested. "You said you wanted to get a Pygmy Puff, and they've been experimenting with breeding them in different colors. They've got one in a beautiful silvery shade that almost matches your hair." He tugged playfully on a lock of her long, silver-blonde hair, and her mouth began to relax, the pout easing into a smile. "In fact, we could get a mated pair," he cajoled. "Like two lovebirds, like you and me."

"You are such a smooth-talker, Bill Weasley," Fleur said accusingly, but her smile widened.

Encouraged, Bill continued, "In fact, maybe we should just skip the party altogether. We'll get some fireworks from the twins, and pick up a bottle of elf-made wine that I've been saving at home for a special occasion, and have a private little celebration of our own. What could be more romantic than kissing under a fireworks display in the night sky?"

"Smooth-talker," Fleur repeated, and kissed Bill. "All right, let's go to the Sneezes shop."

"That's 'Wheezes,' darling," Bill corrected amiably, although he knew that Fleur already knew that perfectly well.

Fleur shrugged and said breezily, "Wheezes, Sneezes, I can never remember."

Bill grinned and held out his arm, and she took it, snuggling close to him as they walked down the street.

As they approached the shop, they could see a sudden burst of fireworks go off through the shop window, but oddly enough, could hear no explosion.

"Are your brothers experimenting with a new product?" Fleur asked.

Bill frowned. "They have a workshop that they use to test new products; they would never risk damaging the stock in the store. Something's wrong, Fleur. Stay here while I check it out." Ignoring her protests, he drew his wand and headed towards the door.
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Inside the shop, Greyback was finding the "young pup" to be slightly more challenging prey than he had anticipated. He had nimbly dodged the stunning spell that George hurled his way, but as he lunged forward to attack, the boy knocked over a display table, sending a stack of boxes flying into his path. Greyback growled impatiently and started to step over the boxes when the boy cried, "Incendio!" and the boxes exploded beneath him.

The fireworks stung and singed Greyback, but did not seriously injure him, although he did have to cast a quick charm to keep his robes from catching fire. Meanwhile, sparks were flying all over the shop, igniting other boxes of fireworks and setting off a chain reaction, while some creatures shaped like brightly colored powder puffs were squealing in alarm, bouncing frantically around their cages. The high-pitched sound was very annoying, and Greyback vowed to himself that he would literally crush the little pests as soon as he was done with the Weasley boy. He imagined closing his fist around one of the puffs until its flesh squelched like an orange, reduced to a bloody pulp.

George tensed, and Greyback suspected he was about to Apparate away, so he shot a Cruciatus Curse at the boy. But even as the Weasley brat fell to the floor, screaming in pain, he managed to kick out and knock over another display. Greyback caught a glimpse of the words "Portable Swamp" before a large box split open as it hit the floor, and a miniature swamp opened up beneath his feet. Startled, the werewolf lost his footing and fell face-first into a puddle of muck.

"YOU'RE DEAD, BOY!" Greyback roared as he struggled to his feet, spitting mucky water out of his mouth. "I'M GOING TO MANGLE YOU SO BADLY THAT NOT EVEN YOUR OWN MOTHER WILL BE ABLE TO RECOGNIZE YOU!"

"I don't think so!" a voice behind him shouted. "Stupefy!"

Greyback turned to see yet another red-haired Weasley boy--no, man--standing behind him, and then a stunning spell hit him full-force in the chest, sending him flying across the room.

"George!" the new Weasley cried, hurrying forward to check on his brother. "Are you all right?"

"I think so," George groaned, struggling to sit up.

"Bill!" a feminine voice screamed from the doorway. "Look out!"

Greyback was stunned by the spell for a moment, but quickly shook it off. He wasn't sure if it was because of his werewolf constitution, or if the medallion offered some kind of protection against magical attacks, but he didn't really care at the moment. He lunged forward at the Weasley boys and lashed out, ripping open the older brother's face with his claws. He snarled and opened his jaws wide, intending to rip out Bill's throat, but his victim managed to twist away slightly at the last moment, and Greyback's teeth closed around his shoulder instead. The taste of meat and blood in his mouth was still satisfying, and so was the scream of his prey, and the anguished cry of his prey's younger brother.

"You leave 'im alone!" the female voice shouted, and Greyback looked up to see a slender, pretty young woman standing in the doorway, glaring at him as fiercely as a mother wolf protecting her cubs, despite her fragile beauty.

"Oh, do you want to play, too, little girl?" Greyback asked, leering at her. "Sorry, but you'll have to wait until I'm done with your boyfriend."

"Fleur, run!" Bill cried desperately. Instead, the girl stood her ground and raised her wand. Greyback raised his own wand, prepared to repel a combative spell, but instead a bright flash of light went off in front of his eyes, temporarily blinding him.

He heard one of the Weasley brothers moving behind him, probably the uninjured one, and Greyback was able to duck out of the way as a spell flew over his head and struck the wall behind him with enough force to send splinters of wood flying; a few of them lodged in the flesh of his cheek, and he snarled, swiping at them angrily and leaving streaks of Bill's blood on his face.

Meanwhile, the girl was shouting spells in what sounded like French, and Greyback tried to dodge them, but they appeared to be aimed at his surroundings rather than himself. Objects flew off of the shelves and Greyback found himself being pelted with boxes and bottles. One of the boxes broke open, but at least it wasn't another swamp, and only spilled some kind of candy onto him. A potion bottle shattered on his arm and the liquid turned a patch of his fur bright blue. Just as his vision was beginning to clear, a large hat tried to shove itself onto his head and over his eyes, and a wand flew up of its own volition and began beating him on the head.

Greyback could hear startled exclamations from outside the store, and the French girl was yelling, "'Elp, 'elp! Call zee Aurors!" As much as he hated to lose his prey, it was time to cut his losses and run, and he cursed and Disapparated. His only consolation was that he had most likely turned Arthur Weasley's son into a werewolf.
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Afterword: Obviously, my series is not canon compliant, but there were certain elements of HBP that I really liked, such as Bill being attacked by Greyback, so I decided to work it into this chapter, since it fit so well with the current plot. I think Bill will end up being a full werewolf in this version, though.

Going off on a bit of a tangent, but as I was writing this chapter, a plot bunny popped into my head. I've been toying with the idea of finding a love interest for Rachel, one of the female werewolves in Lukas's pack, but couldn't really think of anyone. Then it suddenly dawned on me--what about all those excess Weasley boys? First I considered Charlie, but he lives in Romania, and she wouldn't want to leave the pack, and then I thought of the twins. I really love the idea of Molly going ballistic, not so much because Rachel is a werewolf, but an older woman, and a divorced single mother to boot! Fred's current love interest isn't Rachel, btw, but I thought that if he started hanging out at the Leaky Cauldron, that might give George a chance to meet her, since she works there as a maid. I already have several different subplots to tie up, so I probably won't use the plot bunny in this story, but I would like to work it into a sequel. I've been writing Molly as being very nice and understanding, so it would be fun to deal with her more irrational, overprotective side.

Part 23