The Werewolf and the Moon Maiden

This chapter was red-moused by Jilliane. Thanks J!

2: Second Chances and New Beginnings


Luna waited at the Hog's Head for her contact, idly chatting with Aberforth as he plied her with various concoctions, both alcoholic and non. He confided in her that he was considering trying to attract a higher-brow clientèle. After Luna caught her breath from the last hundred-proof batch of cocktails, she smiled, a little tipsily to be sure, at him. "That's a grand idea, Mr. Dumbledore."

The old man beamed at her and then turned in time to catch his favourite goat, a lovely little hatchet-faced Nubian named Prunella, sipping on the vat of cocktail mix he had procured for the eventuality of his rise in fortune. He swatted the creature with the bar towel he kept at his waist and then stomped to the room behind the bar. His imprecations were muffled but still quite plain to anyone listening. Luna pushed what was left of her last drink-- a fizzy, bitter concoction that seemed mostly made of vodka and pumpkin juice-- away from her, setting her hand under her chin. She felt as if she were waiting for something joyous to occur, and couldn't say what. She thought it might be Nargles.

After the third time she perked up at the opening of the door, she finally decided to go to the loo and splash her face with the murky water that the owner fetched twice daily from the well behind the pub.


She looked at herself in the mirror, noting that her eyes had not yet become bleary, but they sparkled dully when she moved her head. Rolf had always said that a tipsy Luna was his favourite kind of Luna. She always lost her serenity and became more outgoing, more prone to giggle at his oft-times childish jokes. Suddenly she was saddened, a state she had become intimately acquainted with the past year. She splashed her face with the water from the basin, wisely deciding to pass up the use of the dubious hand towel that lay by the sink. She wasn't the most fastidious person, but the colour looked off. She supposed she could have just made do with her wand to dry her dewy face, but it seemed like cheating to do so. She respected Professor Dumbledore's younger brother much more than she had ever respected the Professor.


When she returned to the table, she noted that the usual crowd of sixth and seventh year students had assembled, making the room far noisier than it usually was during the week, and affording her some respite from Aberfoth's next batch of cocktail creations. She settled back against the chair, catching her hair on a loose splinter and bringing tears to her eyes. Her father had always complained, in his vague way, of her tender-headedness. She moved her hand, only to have rough fingers stop her.

"Let me, Mrs. Scamander."

She shifted enough to see a rather bemused Remus Lupin looking down on her. Her vision gave one of those lurching, skin-pebbling shifts as his fingers worked against the nape of her neck. After a few moments of charged silence, he untangled her hair from the offending splinter. He made as if to move away with an apologetic nod, and seemingly of its own volition her mouth said, "Join me?"

For a moment Lupin's warm smile faltered, but his eyes lost their usual sadness. His expression softened as he sat, his golden-brown eyes meeting her cool grey ones. Luna felt as if something momentous had occurred as they looked at each other. Sitting beside him seemed right, if that made any sense at all.

Lupin finally broke the trance that held them as he lifted his hand to catch the slatternly barmaid's attention. The woman flicked her attention to him, and then continued to give her considerable attention to a sixth year Ravenclaw. She bestowed a jack o' lantern smile on the boy who was currently paying more attention to her blooming figure. Her dental hygiene was apparently low on his list of priorities at the moment.

Aberforth emerged from the back room carrying a case if ale. He slung the crate to the bar and shouted over the growing din, "Bess! Leave off molesting the tyke and do yer job." The woman scowled but disentangled herself from the boy with a promise to meet him later, if one could tell from the satisfied smile on the young man's face as she left. Aberforth shouted over the noise to Remus, with a dark look after the girl's figure, “Professor, what can I get you?"

"A pint and whatever Professor Scamander is having, Remus said as Luna demurred.

Once Aberforth had made another cocktail and decanted a pint from the tap, he wiped his hand a small scrap of flannel, and made his way over to their table. He deftly skirted a patron who drunkenly lurched up from his chair into his path, and slapped the drinks before each of them. "No charge, Professor," he told Remus, "your lady-friend here has been helping me do some marketing research today."

The older man sauntered back to the counter, roughly shoving an inebriated goblin out of his way with his hip, leaving both Remus and Luna in ill-disguised discomfort at his words.

"I don't suppose..."

"I didn't mean to..."

They both began, each breaking off their words with embarrassed laughter. Luna waved her hand. "Go ahead, please, Mr. Lupin."

"It's Remus. Mr. Lupin is my father," he said as he gave her a hesitant glance, the sadness creeping back into his expression, "I was just going to say... I didn't mean to... nothing. It's nothing really. You?"

"I don't suppose you'd like my cocktail, would you? Aberforth has been plying me with them for the last hour." She slid the glass before him, feeling her face flush as she added, "And I am Luna, Remus."

Lupin peered into the glass, sniffing at it before his eyebrows inched upwards, "What is it?"

"About a hundred proof," Luna answered. "You won't need more than one."

They settled into their cocoons of silence once more. He took a sip of the cocktail and sputtered before following with a bit of his ale. A spot of foam flecked the corner of his mouth and Luna felt a nearly uncontrollable desire to lick the substance off his face, to taste the bitterness on his skin. She was sure Remus tasted of chocolate. She jerked forward, jostling the table as she watched him mutely, aware that she was acting a complete ninny, but unable to do anything about it. It was the first time she had been so moved by such a simple thing and it made her feel disloyal to Rolf.

Remus began telling her a droll story about one of his first years, punctuating his speech with waving hands. She watched them as he spoke, realising they had fascinated her as a child also. Perhaps if he were to touch her the spell of attraction would be lifted. She leaned in as Remus looked away, her hand nearly touching his now quiescent one before she snatched it back, face burning. When his gaze returned to her, she had her betraying hands firmly clamped under her thighs. What would he think of her being so bold? Especially since the idea to act upon her impulse seemed to originate somewhere outside her own mind. Lupin sipped from his pint again, this time licking the foam away after. Luna was once again almost overcome with a desire to follow the trail of his tongue back to its source, to sink into the hard circle of his arms, to give herself to him in a way she hadn't wanted to do with a man since Rolf died. She had never been a sensualist, had survived the past year and so many months without her late husband's touch, so why now was she suddenly so bothered by this broken man beside her?

&*&*&

Remus spent the next fortnight in an agony of self-doubt. He tried to maintain his sense of calm defeat, but when he would see Mrs. Scammander-- Luna-- at meals or in the hallways, his heart would speed up, and he would become almost giddy with joy at seeing her face. He was sure he had been hexed by a student, or worse yet, slipped a potion by Snape's ghost. He just couldn't fathom how Snape could have done it.

It was in his nature to despair. The state of happiness had been denied him for so long. Even before Greyback had taught his father a lesson by turning Remus into a monster, his parents had been wan, pale people. Life in the Lupin clan had never been easy, and with Remus' affliction, it had become impossible. Remus supposed his parents loved each other and him in their own lacklustre way, but it seemed as if at some point in their lives, circumstances had leached the colour out of them, made them spiritless.

Remus had carried on their legacy in himself. That was the true reason he had stayed away from Teddy. He didn't want his bright, charming son, who resembled Nym so much, infected with the sad, despairing mess that Remus himself was. The decision had not been an easy one, and not made consciously for that reason at first. He would have, with the awarding of a pension for the loss of his wife, been able to fight for custody of his own flesh. He had thought the boy better off with Nym's people. At least Andromeda was somewhat whole.

He only admitted that to himself now. It had been easier for him to be a victim of circumstance when he was abroad. Now that he had returned, he had written a letter to his son, an impersonal invitation to visit. The boy finally replied with a tentative affirmative. He seemed to want to connect with his father. Lupin allowed himself a small moment of hope before he squelched the emotion. Whatever came, he would endure. Hope had no place in his life.

As Lupin made his way from his class to his office, Snape appeared. The ghost had been about more frequently since that momentous Saturday. Severus' attitude however, never pleasant on the best of days, had taken on a grating expectancy.

Remus trudged up the stairs, the ghost going before him. Snape slid through the door as Remus unwarded it. The spectre was waiting for him, his incorporeal buttocks floating inches above the upholstery, a cat that ate the cream expression on his face.

"What is it, Severus?" Lupin asked, a note of pique entering his tone. He wanted... no, needed to be alone. He covered his ire by turning his back to the ghost, placing his teaching robe on its hook. His office was small, spare, and monkish. He wanted no mementos reminding him of why he had left England, had made no memories since his return.

The ghost gave a huff of mirth, or possibly derision, and said, "I was noticing what a lovely day it was today. Unseasonably warm."

Remus turned to his desk, head down, and thumbed through his post. A letter from Harry lay in the middle. He needed to reply, but could not bring himself to be pleasant. Another letter from Andromeda asking for Teddy's university tuition in full for the term, which he pushed out of the pile. He would attend to that this evening before going to dinner in the Great Hall. "Is it? I hadn't noticed."

"Yes, very." Snape's tone bordered on amused. "Come now, Lupin, you can't tell me that you haven't wanted to take a stroll around the lake? There are at least two very attractive, unattached females here that would, no doubt, appreciate an invitation to join them. I can think of one in particular, who is down by the shore with her young sons at this moment. Oh look! She seems to be dancing in a most becoming, jiggling fashion."

Remus frowned, glancing pointedly at Snape, who unsuccessfully attempted an innocent expression. "Leave off, Snape. We're friends, nothing more. She can't see me as... anything more."

"I don't know of what you are speaking, Lupin. I merely mentioned Mrs. Scamander because she is rather attractive and so obviously enamoured of old blighters. Her late husband was what, forty years her senior?" The ghost rose fractionally, his legs still bent as if he were sitting. "Surely, you, with what's left of your wolfish nature need a mate or at least a good leg over once in a while... even if you do seem more snow than fire."

Remus said, through clenched teeth, "That is enough. I won't..."

"Inflict your neurosis on another person?" Snape asked. "Tell, me Lupin, when have you ever in your life reached for something you truly wanted? Even the late Mrs. Lupin had to convince you that you were worthy. Besides, I see how you look at the professor in question when she's not aware. You are attracted, isn't that enough?"

"Was it enough for you, Severus?" Lupin shot back. "I seem to remember a weedy boy straggling along behind Lily Evans. We all knew you loved her, surely you told her? What of it anyway? It's not as if you care about me."

"You wound me," Snape said, his grey skin flushing with a deeper shade of silver. "I speak to you simply to prevent you from making the same mistake that I made in my short and sad life, nothing more. Or perhaps, Mr. Zabini is more to your taste. There were rumours about you and Black, if I remember correctly."

Lupin gave a bark of laughter. "I doubt very seriously that there were any rumours concerning Sirius and I."

"Potter then, one of your Marauder mates. I don't mention Pettigrew simply because I know even you could never be that self loathing." Snape gave Remus an infuriatingly superior smile.

"Yet I remember you spending an entire summer holiday living with Pettigrew in your own house," Remus shot back. "Perhaps it was your secret desire to know him in a more biblical sense."

"Bastard," Snape said with dark good-humour as he floated over to the window. "Oh, look at that. Mrs. Scamander's sons seem to have decided their mother needed a rather impromptu bath. Really, a teacher should wear more substantial clothing. The white top she is wearing is all but transparent and I don't think she's wearing any foundation garments. I think I can see her..."

Remus rushed to the window and drew down the shade, but not before he ascertained the truth in what Snape said. He was appalled as his body responded with more than a twitch of desire.

"What is it, Lupin? You look pale, as if all the blood has rushed from your head to regions further down." Snape laughed at the filthy look Remus shot him.

Remus fumbled for the seat behind his desk as he said through clenched teeth, "Get... out."

The ghost merely chuckled as he floated to a wall, disappearing between the bricks and mortar. Remus closed his eyes, trying to remember how Nym sounded, but all he could hear in his mind was the misty voice of Luna, his Luna.

He was going to hell.

&*&*&


"Well?" Tonks asked as she floated to and fro in the hallway outside the Defence classroom. She rarely allowed herself to remain in her husband's presence. Snape suspected, in the amorphous way of most post-death emotions, it caused her slight pain to see him. Severus himself knew that his feelings for Lily had certainly been raw enough when he crossed over the first time, yet now, his own pain felt like it was swaddled in cotton wool. It was there, but barely recognisable as the agony of remorse and self-recrimination he had felt his entire life. His hate was, however, very much alive. It was strange to consider that. He had begun enjoying the former werewolf's company, yet he still felt the inferno of anger at Potter, Black, Pettigrew, and sometimes Albus. Perhaps that too would fade with his ascension.

Snape pulled the angel further down the hall where he might speak to her without appearing mad. Even as a ghost, Severus was aware of appearances. "He's thinking on it. What of her?"

"It's so hard to tell with her," Tonks sighed. "I want to believe she's noticed him. I have done what I could to bring him to her attention, but..."

"Yes, I see the problem." Snape tapped his finger against his lips. "Perhaps I should..."

"No, Snape," the angel said. "No. I don't know what you'd do, but I can bet it would be embarrassing or something."

"You still won't forgive me for that 'outing' incident with Mr. Weasley, will you? His mother was more or less understanding once you both had donned your clothes. But really Nymphadora, being caught in flagrante delicto in your own cousin's library?" Snape smirked. "Though I do have to say, of all the Weasley spawn to corrupt, I think you made a wise choice in young Percy. He always had a good head on his shoulders, even if he was a little prig."

"Yeah, well..." Tonks began, searching for the proper scathing turn of phrase. "Well... sod off, Snape. He was sweet, and not so much a prig as driven."

"Articulate as always, Madam," he said drolly. "And how well did he drive?"

Tonks let out a squeal of indignation, batting at his body with her wings and disturbing the silver essence before she snorted, "Very. Interested?"

"Hardly," Snape answered, giving her a rare, amused tilt of his lips; less than a smile, but still not his usual scowl.

She watched him for a moment, her wings fluttering about her as she tilted her head to the side. "You've changed, Snape. You're less scowlly now."

Severus returned her gaze levelly. "I suppose I have. There are no Dark or Light Lords using me up for their plans, or little blighters who need saving from themselves. I've already died, so what's left for me to fear?"

The angel looked away for a moment, her wings stilled, her expression thoughtful before she nodded and said, "So, we need a plan. I only have a couple of months left before I have to return and make my report, and you have less time to get your task done before..." Tonks mimed scissors cutting an invisible string. "Can you really stand four-hundred more years of this?"

"Who knew the afterlife would be run by bureaucrats?" Snape said with an appraising look at her. "I have a few ideas."

&*&*&

The weeks seemed to fly by for Luna. Before she knew it, Halloween was in the offing. During one of the interminable staff meetings, Luna was asked to fetch from Wynfrith's office the Headmistress' newest innovation, a seating chart she had devised for the proper dispersal of staff at the Head table. She rose from her seat opposite Lupin, feeling his eyes on her as she started to traverse the cramped and stuffy room. She felt her stomach swoop as she brushed past his knees and was gratified to hear him swallow rather audibly over the rustling of robes and the groaning squeak of chairs. His hand brushed hers, a bold move for him, and a shattering one for her, and she all but fled from him, even as she wanted nothing more than to deepen their contact. He was... he was still in love with his late wife, and she had two boys who needed her undivided attention.

Once outside the stifling atmosphere, she scurried to the Headmistress' office, saying in her breathless voice, "Maleficum maleficus."

The gargoyle gave a leering sneer at her as it moved the stairway downward. She patted it on its horned head whilst tickling its chest, an action she had done when Snape was Headmaster and they had needed into the office to rifle the contents for information. The gargoyle had always had a special fondness for blondes since it had been made over a thousand years ago. Luna wondered if he had ever acted on his impulses. She had read that gargoyles were the souls of lecherous men, cursed to serve the living as a guard against just such threats to virtuous women. She thought the legend might be true, given that the creature had craned his head to watch her progress up the stairs. She was glad she was wearing lacy knickers. The gargoyle had been good to her whilst she was in school. A glimpse of lacy underwear was the least she could do for it.

She resisted the impulse she felt to knock on the heavily scarred wooden door, telling herself that any occupants were well past caring that she might catch them sleeping or in other occupations. Swinging the door open, she spied the charts she was sent to fetch on the desk. She traversed the room, then stopped as she noticed a faint flicker of white floating next to the cold fireplace. She stood still, gathering the calm of the room around her, using the belief she had always had in the fantastical to open her mind to what might be present. She was almost sure the creature wanted to reveal itself to her.

She listened to the faint rustling of feathers as a soft breeze stirred her tangled hair. The warm scent of baked bread and chocolate filled her nose, reminding her of Remus.

Remus..

The man seemed to have invaded her every waking moment. It was as if they were being pushed together by some unseen force. Luna was disturbed by her attraction to him. She had always thought her relationship with Rolf was like her father's to her mother. She had never envisioned that another man might come along that fired her senses, or that made her feel so alive. Remus Lupin was meant to be hers and she his, all she needed to do was let him know.

Luna shook her head. Where had that thought come from?

The fluttering of white came closer, enveloping her with the soothing smell of warm bread. A voice that she knew was not her own said, "He needs you and you need him... quit arseing about and get on with it. I’m on a deadline."

Luna's eyes flew open and she saw a flash of bubblegum pink hair over a sweet, heart-shaped face. The last thing the figure said before it faded from her view was, "Bugger!"

Luna hastily grabbed the chart off the desk, papers fluttering like feathers in the wake, and then fled as if the hounds of Annwyn were at her heels.

Luna returned to the staff room with watery knees. The Headmistress looked at her sharply before saying impatiently, "Are you quite all right? You look ill."

Luna shook her head, running her hand through her tangled hair and wincing visibly as her fingers snagged in the tumbling locks. She felt her eyes drawn to Lupin, wondering if he had been experiencing the same things she had. His yellow-brown gaze held hers with a warmth in them that was not entirely unwelcome. He rose as she turned fully to him, unaware of the restive quality of the silence in the staff room as their little tableaux played out.

His voice held a strangled tone as he said, "Luna."

The Headmistress cleared her throat and the moment broke, leaving both participants gasping. "Since you both seem ill, I would ask you to remove yourselves to the hospital wing."

They both started for the door. As they left, Luna thought she saw some Galleons being exchanged between some of the other seated professors. She was certain she saw Lupin's cheeks flame from the staff’s actions.

&*&*&

Remus felt as if a string was pulling taut between himself and the woman who walked beside him. He asked, simply to break their silence, "Why were you so distraught?"

Luna stopped, leaning against a wall as if for support, and Remus couldn't help but turn to her, guided by that invisible tether. "I was accosted by a pink-haired angel who smelled of fresh-baked bread."

Lupin reeled. That was the scent he had carried in his memory for years of Nym, and who else would have pink hair but her? Especially as an angel. "I don't..."

"Please don't, Remus." Luna hung her head. "Don't be like everyone else and think me mad because I believe what I see."

"I wasn't going to, Luna. I.... wish I had that faith." Lupin drew closer, aware that much of his attraction to the widow was for her faith in all things fantastical. He had lost his own many years ago. Perhaps Snape was right. He should pursue this slender reed of a woman. And if Snape were working with Nym's ghost... the thought staggered him, burning his gut with both need and disappointment. Did Nym think him so inconstant, that she would actively encourage him to pursue another woman?

A woman who seemed to be at once childlike in her faith and ancient in her wisdom... hadn't he always been attracted to that type of person? he thought, as a breeze slid down the hallway, skirling around his feet like distant notes of a haunting song. Luna's hair stirred, blowing a strand of the tangled mass over her lip. Remus leaned forward to brush it away, his breath stirring the dirty-gold lock. He dipped his head, capturing the hair between their lips as he tasted her, lingered over her uniquely heady scent of forest and sunshine. When he pulled back from the kiss, she sighed, one of her misty smiles drifting across her face.

A large white feather drifted from the rafters above, and Luna caught it. Another fell on his upraised hand. They felt like benedictions.

Opening her eyes, Luna said with a misty smile, "You do taste of chocolate."


&*&*&

Tonks watched the two make their first foray into a life together. She could feel her essence once again stretching toward the sunlight. Snape was beside her. He watched as more of her feathers fell from her wings.

"Madam, you seem to be moulting," he observed.

Tonks shrugged. "Not moulting, giving up my wings. I've decided I want to live again."

Snape's head turned sharply to her. "What do you mean live again? Is it possible?"

"Yes," Tonks answered as she pulled the proper re-entry forms from her tunic. "If you don't opt for service as an angel, you're automatically slated for recycling. When we get back to the afterlife, you’re to be born again. Those are the rules for ghosts who pass their trial."

"And angels who resign their positions?" he queried, eyebrow raised.

Tonks shrugged, spraying feathers as she did.

Snape scowled, but in a less ferocious way as he watched the two figures below them embrace. "I suppose that's... acceptable. I do miss that."

Tonks followed his gaze to the couple below them. She did too.

"But, why do you want to go back?" Snape finally asked. "Surely you have no regrets, no more lessons to learn."

"We all have lessons to learn, Severus."' Tonks laughed as another feather lighted on Snape's silver shoe. "But I've decided to return to help out a new friend who didn't have such a good life the last time. I want to make sure his experience is better this time around."

Snape remained silent until Tonks felt the final tug of ascension. She thought he might have mumbled 'thank you' as she drifted away from him.

Whatever he said, she would find out sooner or later. She could feel his presence flowing upwards with her. Snape wasn't such a git, after all.




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