The silence that filled the room was palpable. The pack leaders who had been in their positions longest looked quickly down at the table top, biting their lips. The newer leaders glanced nervously between Remus Lupin and the newcomer, Storm. Mrs. Vane pulled her baby closer to her chest, covering the infant's head protectively as she cooed in his ear, eyes darting from Storm to Remus and back again. Even Verna was shaking her head and making the sign of the cross over her shoulders and forehead.

Remus stood, staring at Storm, for several long moments. His mind raced for some grand, bad-ass gesture he could do, some incredible one-liner that was so great it could've been torn right out of some hit Hollywood movie. What would Sirius do? he found himself thinking. He took a deep breath, aware of nearly every eye on him, and especially of Storm's smirk as he waited to see the response Remus would give.

"What? No answer for that?" Storm taunted. 

Remus's fist clutched tighter on his wand-cane and he closed his eyes. In his mind, he could hear Sirius Black's laughter - that mad, wild laughter that his husband was so well known for. What could only be described as the full blown spirit of Sirius Black possessed Remus for a moment as the low bass line of Queen's Another One Bites the Dust went through Remus's mind and his lip twisted into a smile as he opened his eyes.

He lifted the cane, shook it once - it went from cane to wand before their eyes - and Stewie's eyes widened as he leaned forward eagerly. Remus waved his hands - wand clutched in one - over his head from back to front as though hurling an invisible basket ball into a hoop at the far end of he room. With the motion, the large round stained glass window over the huge doors burst, showering shards of glass in and downward like a colorful glass rain.... Then, as he drew his hands backward over his shoulders, the arched windows on each side shattered in unison one set at a time front to back, matching the position of his hands as he moved, stretching out his palms. He flicked his wand and a silver shield charm formed over the table and its occupants, stopping the glass as it fell over them like an umbrella so that it the sound was like a wave crashing on the shore, but far more colorful as the shards spun down - blue and yellow, red and green, purple and rosey pink. The glass pooled on top of the shield charm, creating a stained glass effect to their bubble, the sunlight pouring through the now wide-opened arches overhead freely and illuminating the shards. He held the charm the whole time they settled and landed until every last piece of glass had fallen into place upon the top of the protective bubble. When it had, he paused, weakened the charm slightly so that it bowed under the pressure of the glass, and then with a quick motion of his hands, he'd thrown the charm off - the protective bubble bursting up and flinging the shards of glass into the air. Remus paused and then waved his wand in a quick series of jabbing motions and as the glass flew up from the protective bubble he'd just shattered, they now twisted and spun back into the window frames, piece by piece, repairing themselves back into their original forms... settling in... as though nothing at all had happened.

Silence returned over the room.

Remus sat down and picked his tea up from the table, taking a sip, and then looking down the row at Storm, who stared up at the windows, wild-eyed. 

Brixton was laughing under his breath and had turned to Gerry and the pair of them were nodding, smirking, laughing at the shocked expressions the others had. 

"Sweet Jaysus an' a donkey," whispered the woman with the baby, clutching her son to her chest, her eyes staring up at the glass windows, which looked as remarkably untouched as they 'd done before she'd watched them shattered and empty framed. Her eyes darted about the chamber. 

"If I had any questions that would've done for me," muttered Gerry. "How 'bout it bub?" he asked, glancing down the row at Storm.

Verna was shaking her head in disbelief or admiration.

But Remus hadn't lifted his stare from Storm, awaiting his response. When several silent moments had passed by, Remus finally cleared his throat. "Storm?" he asked.

Storm shook his head and stayed quiet.

Remus could feel Stewie's gaze on him and he didn't dare to look at his old friend, afraid to meet his eye wrong and end up laughing. Instead, he looked around the table. "Have any of the other families been approached?"

Various heads shook.

"It's early yet, the rumors have only just begun... stay alert, be wary of any advances or visits you may receive. Keep a special eye on your young." He glanced at Mrs. Vane and her baby. Remus folded his fingers together and looked around at them over the peak. "Have any of you heard from the family in Blackburn?"

An uncomfortable shift went through the leaders, then, and Remus sat forward, glancing at Stewie, who shrugged and shook his head, clearly not aware of something that the others at the table knew. "What?" Remus asked, and when nobody volunteered to speak up, he leaned forward again, eyes narrowing, and stared very meaningfully around, making eye contact with each of them for a moment. Each one - even Storm (maybe even especially Storm) - looked away quickly, not wanting to hold his eye contact. Remus finally picked himself. "Nic?" he said, turning to a youngish man about Remus's own age whose family came from Blackpool, and he knew had, at one point, been a part of the Blackburn family before splitting apart.

Nic shook his head.

Remus took a deep breath. "Someone tell me what isn't being said at this table. Now."

Brixton cleared his throat, still staring resolutely down at the table, and he murmured, "They been bitin' again."

Silence. Heavy and uncomfortable silence. Remus's spine shivered and he had to contain his own nervousness and fear at this.

"How many?"

Brixton glanced at Nic.

"Two, sir," Nic murmured.

Remus's eyebrows raised, pressing for more information.

"One was a child."

Remus set his jaw, trying to gain control over the nausea that had suddenly taken over him. He had to look away from the table, his eyes went to the arm of the chair he sat in, and he studied the carved texture of the wood resolutely.

Flashbacks filled his mind. Flashbacks of a quiet autumn evening in the garden of the house in York. Flashbacks of creaky gates and Greyback's wolf - of searing pain and the nightmarish cracking of bones... the blur and agony of the transformation through the eyes of a child that he remembered too well, even after so many years of changing as an adult - those first few scars and mendings lingered somewhere in his subconscious and haunted him. He could still remember the way his mouth sang for blood those early years and how terrifying that was when you do not understand, and no one was there to explain to you what it meant...

The way the only conclusion was to believe you were a monster.

"In hostility or to grow their family?" Remus asked quietly.

Nic murmured, "I'm unsure honestly."

"But you suspect...?"

"Sport," Brixton interjected.

Remus nodded, closing his eyes. He murmured to Stewie, "We shall go to Blackburn before the next moon."

Stewie nodded.

"You'll not be wanting to go alone," advised Nic. "You'll be wanting a delegation."

"I volunteer," Storm said from the end of the table where he sat.

Several heads turned toward Storm.

"As do I," said Brixton quickly. He looked at Storm. "Best to have back up... just in case." He eyed the other man carefully.

"Thank you both," Remus murmured. He glanced at the old leather watch, "I shall let you know when I plan to go. For now, this summit's adjourned. I do ask the new leaders to see Stewie with preferred dates of meeting so we can confirm appointments and such. Be vigilant," he added, "It is incredibly important that the pack stay strong to itself and not turn to any of our enemies... Remember that those who do not understand us and those who wish to exploit us wish only to demonize and weaponize our kind and we must make efforts to protect ourselves and the others in the pack." He looked 'round at each leader in turn, and added, "We care for each other because the world too often seeks to tear us apart. If any of you need anything at all... anything... I will work to help you."

Mrs. Vane looked up, a desperate look in her eyes as she met Remus's.

A general murmur of agreement and thanks went up around the table and the leaders of the werewolf families in the pack got up, but Remus nodded to Mrs. Vane. "A word, madam?" he requested.

Stewie hurried to see the leaders out, crowding from the huge hall and into the entryway but Mrs. Vane lingered at the table. 

Remus motioned for her to move closer, and she hugged her baby to her chest and moved up to the seat directly to Remus's left. Remus leaned forward. "Mrs. Vane," he said. Then, "What is your first name, Madam?"

"Claire," she answered. "And this is Theo." She turned the baby for Remus to see. He was small and pudge-faced, with grey eyes that stared up at Remus.

Remus smiled, "Hullo Theo..." he held up his hand and stroked the side of Theo's pudgy cheek gently with the side of one knuckle, eyes going soft at the sight of the little guy. "How can I help you and Theo?" he asked. Claire looked terribly nervous, afraid to make her request, and Remus smiled and looked her in the eyes. "We can only receive the help that we ask for," he whispered.

Claire nodded, then said, "Theo isn't a werewolf. He didn't inherit the gene... somehow. Me an' Tobias both being one, I dunno how he's done it but he doesn't transform." Her eyes were wide with wonder and hope. "But the trouble is I can't always afford anyone to watch over him on Moontide and I fear my own hostility when the wolf takes over."

"I understand," Remus murmured, frowning. "You need wolfsbane."

She shivered at hearing her need plainly spoken and nodded.

Remus rubbed his chin, "Alright. Alright let me see what I can do and I will find some way to help you. Even if I can't get the wolfsbane, we will find a way to help you find someone to watch over Theo."

"Thank you sir," Claire said.

Remus nodded, "Of course. This is what the pack is for. To support one another." 

Claire Vane nodded and hugged Theo close. Remus patted the boy gently on the head and stood up. Claire did, too. "Thank you," she repeated profusely.

Remus saw her to the entry way, where Stewie had a cluster of the new leaders. Remus pointed her to join them so that she could schedule a time for Remus to go and assess her family and appoint the best leader - he had a feeling he'd be relieving Claire of the position, she had enough to worry about without the meetings and trying to keep the members of her family group under control every moontide. He drew a deep breath and turned 'round and headed back toward the Sanctuary at the far side of the church hall.

As he was walking, his foot crunched and he looked down to see one small shard of stained glass that had somehow not fitted back into the windows above. He bent and picked it up from the ground, holding the jaggedy thing in his palm. It was a blood red piece. He turned it over in his hand as he let himself into the sanctuary.

He sank down onto a small single pew that sat to one side, the gold alter before him dull from years of disuse and he reached into his coat and pulled out the letters from Albus Dumbledore again, flickering through them once more, hoping against hope that perhaps he had overlooked something in Sirius's handwriting one of the several times he'd already checked for it. But nothing there was from his husband.

Remus closed his eyes and wondered where Sirius was and what he was doing, if he was alright, if he was safe, if he'd managed to somehow get to and see Harry like he'd wanted to, if he was happy... Remus pictured Sirius somehow having snuck onto the grounds of Hogwarts, pictured him staying once again in the secret room, pictured him telling Harry about the room and the pair of them having long conversations and sharing a birthday cake at that very moment, smiling and laughing as Sirius reminisced about the old times, about James and Lily, and the days when they'd all been happy together.

Jealousy burned in Remus and he leaned forward against the pew ahead of the one he sat in, pressing his face into the crook of his elbow, tears soaking through the fabric of his jacket.

If only the werewolf leaders could see him now, he thought.

He felt as broken and forgotten as the shard of glass he still held in his fist.