James Potter sat at his desk in Harry Underhill's office, organizing Underhill's latest notes on the events occurring in Blackburn, where werewolf attacks had been on the rise. He'd paused in his work to stare at a map of the city of Blackburn which had been marked by Underhill to indicate the locations of all of the attacks made over the last two months. Several marks had been made and numbered in order of occurrence, but there was no obvious pattern to the bites to speak of. James frowned and flipped through the folder, pausing to look at victims that had been found dead, their shoulders bitten in the same exact place as James knew Remus Lupin had a half-moon scar, too.

But despite the fact that the bites looked the same as Greyback's work, which had been the conclusion that Underhill had drawn based on evidence gathered from other victim's of Fenrir's that were on file with the Werewolf Registry, there was something different about it that James couldn't quite put his finger on that told him it couldn't be Greyback. He just wasn't sure what that thing was. He frowned and his eyes skimmed the description of the victims. Ages ranging wildly overall, there did seem to be a skew in the average toward the younger generation, with most of the victims being between the ages of 16 to 25. James looked at their photographs and sighed as he flicked through them one by one. Most of the victims that were identified had been killed - a couple had been injured and treated at St. Mungo's. He wondered how many people had been bitten but not hard enough to be killed or need treatment - only enough to change and be occupying Blackburn, infected with lycanthropy, and therefore unknown in the case.

Underhill was pouring over a newspaper, bent forward and rubbing his chin as he read about the latest victim of the Blackburn Werewolf - an eighteen year old girl who was one of the victims being treated at Mungo's. She'd been found three blocks west of the train station, where the previous victim - the boy coming home from school - had been found.

"It's sloppy," James said suddenly.

Underhill looked up from the paper he was reading. "Excuse me?"

James looked up, too. "These attacks are sloppy," James explained.

Underhill raised his eyebrow. "Did you think werewolf attacks were nice neat little things that are done wearing pinafores and drinking tea with your pinkie popped?" he asked with a note of sarcasm.

"I mean they don't have a rhyme or reason to them. But Greyback's always been quite methodical." He paused. "Also, there are bodies - remains. Greyback... he bites to collect into his pack or else to... to eat."

Underhill's eyes lit.

"This is a copycat. Not Greyback himself," James concluded.

"Or Greyback's sending a message," Underhill said.

James shook his head, "Greyback's too much of a greedy bastard. Besides, he's weakened right now. He would be trying to make a show of power toward You Know Who, not allowing any further weakness to show on his part. Guy's got his tail between his legs - now isn't the time that he wants anyone to be finding his -er- leftovers."

Underhill eyed James. "He's weakened?"

"Yeah," James said, "He was recently defeated by one of his omegas so his hold over them is sort of... topsy-turvey. Now's the time to challenge him. If there were werewolves that wanted to try to sort of... overtake the pack... they could potentially do it right now."

"And you know this... how?"

James shrugged.

Underhill rubbed his chin and sat back in his seat, considering.

James did, too, in a motion very similar to Underhill's own.

"Interesting," Underhill mused.

James nodded. He flipped through the sheets before him for a moment, then said, "Could be somebody's trying to make Greyback look even weaker."

"Good thought," Underhill nodded. "Wanting to get him in trouble with He Who Must Not Be Named."

"Exactly. Payback to Greyback. So he flubs up a few times. Leaves bodies. Calls attention to himself... It weakens Greyback's power with You Know Who at the same time as adding to maybe a new attempt at building a werewolf army. Maybe someone who wants to overthrow Greyback. Kind of gives'em a double edged sword of sorts. Weakens the enemy and strengthens their own army."

Underhill nodded adding, "So if we find out who it is we find a possible contact that He Who Must Not Be Named is using."

"And stop the attacks in Blackburn - a double payoff," James said.

"Excellent," Underhill nodded. He bent forward and grabbed a pad of paper and a quill, quickly jotting down some notes. "Good eye Potter."

Remus Lupin felt like his stomach was flipping over and over and over. His hands shook as he sharpened his pencils. He was refusing to look up. He glanced at Spencer beside him, whose mouth was a hard line, eyes downcast on his sketchbook. "Did you know?" Remus asked quietly.

"That's what we've been fighting about," muttered Spencer.

Lula stood at the front of the room, gabbing with their professor, a light dressing gown over her shoulders, the front pulled closed and tied off at the waist. Her black hair hung loose for once and held a slight curl to it that was part of it's natural texture. Remus's palms were sweating and the dressing gown hadn't even come off yet. It just hugged all the right (or wrong?) places so that little was left to imagination and honestly Remus needed very little help to launch his mind into that imagination station anyway... The thought that in a few moments the gown would be dropping made his stomach curve around itself.

"I don't know if I can do this," Remus breathed.

Spencer laughed, "You think you don't know if you can do this? That's my girl."

"I know," Remus said. "That's part of why I can't do this."

"You're gay, it doesn't do anything for you -- right?" Spencer laughed.

"Usually not," Remus said shakily.

"It's certainly doing something for Phil over there," Spencer grumbled.

Remus looked. One of their classmates was staring very avidly at Lula as she moved, practically salivating. "Gods," Remus muttered and shook his head. "How could she possibly feel comfortable doing something like this?"

Spencer shrugged. "She's very open with her body."

Remus looked at Spencer, then away and back down to his pencils.

Spencer stared at his sketchbook too. 

Remus hesitated. "Stewie?"

"Yeah?"

"Want to get out of here?" 

"Get out of here?" Spencer looked up at Remus.

"Skive off."

Spencer didn't hesitate, "Yeah."

Remus and Spencer gathered their things quickly, chucking pencils and books into their bags hurriedly and heading for the door. Spencer lingered for a second, looking over his shoulder and meeting Lula's eyes. There was a long pause in which she stared him down defiantly, and then he shook his head and ducked out the door as she turned away, too.

Remus and Spencer headed quickly out out of the school and when they'd got out to the street, the wind was ruffling their hair and blowing leaves down the sidewalk. Remus shoved his fists into his wool coat's pockets, though Spencer walked along with just a light jacket comfortably despite the wind. The only sound that passed between them for some time was their footsteps as they walked and the traffic going by. 

"There's a coffee shop up here," Spencer said.

Remus followed him when he turned and a few minutes later the pair of them were sitting at a table inside a cafe with an artsy feel to it. Remus had skipped getting anything due to a lack of having any muggle money on him, but Spencer sat clutching his cup of coffee like it was a mug full of gold, his narrow shoulders turned in. He stared at the steam rising up from the cup as Remus watched the people milling about in the line by the counter. He could feel Spencer wanting to talk, but wasn't sure what to say to get him going, so he just waited.

Finally, Spencer said, "I told her it made me uncomfortable, her doing it."

"How'd she... get involved in it?" Remus asked.

"She saw an ad for it in the student paper, thought it would be fun. She dropped the class, you know."

"She did? When?"

"Apparently after we had the first fight about this and she said the thing about not wanting to see my face. She's decided she's going to be a model slash actress. Have you ever heard of anything so ridiculous in your life?"

Remus thought of his mum. He shrugged. "Some people make choices like that work. But no, it's not the norm, of course."

Spencer shook his head. "Certainly isn't the norm." He sighed. "I told her I was uncomfortable and she decided that was the only thing in the world she wanted to do anymore. She said it was her body, she could do with it what she wanted and no man was going to tell her who could and couldn't look at her."

Remus frowned. 

"She called me sexist for telling her I didn't want her to do it. I mean, I'm not... I think she's beautiful, I think she can do anything... I just... You saw how that Phil guy was looking at her..."

"Yeah," Remus murmured. "Like he was hungry."

"Exactly," Spencer said. "That isn't empowering. She wants to do it because she thinks it's empowering but it's just a room full of uncomfortable college students and a couple horny blokes that can't stop staring at her... I love her too much to just watch her be objectified like that."

Remus looked down at the table and picked at the edge of the stiff vinyl cloth that covered the top. He bit his lips. He wondered if Spencer was counting him among the horny blokes because he had a feeling if the moment had come and Lula had dropped the dressing gown that he, Remus, would have become quite lost to himself in the moment. He shifted uncomfortably at the thought of that.

Sirius had been so blown out of the water at the idea of Remus even liking a girl. What would he do if he knew Remus was turned on by one? 

Remus felt guilty, too. Spencer was right. Lula deserved better than anyone thinking like that about her, but especially a person that was her friend. But then again, Lula clearly didn't care about anyone thinking of her like that. It was Spencer that was worried about it. But Spencer was right, Remus thought.

Gods, it was a really tight line between truly being sexist like she was accusing Spencer of being and actually being a legitimate concern, wasn't it? The thing was Remus could picture a similar fight between him and Sirius.

And Remus had no say in it at all. He was just a mate. He wasn't even a particularly close mate - a mate from class a mate who now had a guy sitting across from him looking a bit lost and sick as he sipped his coffee, the thought of his girl shrugging off her dressing gown for Phil clear in his eyes. 

Remus drew a deep breath. "I'm sorry, Stewie."

Spencer sighed and stared at his coffee cup for a long moment, then, "We've known each other forever, me and Lula. Been going out for nearly as long... I barely know how to define myself outside of her. Isn't that sort of messed up?"

Remus shrugged, "I don't think it's messed up, per say. Maybe something to work on. I - I think it's important to remember that you are two separate people at the end of the day. It's healthy to remember that."

"How long have you known Sirius?"

"Eight years."

"And how long have you been together?"

"Four years. Married one." 

"Me and Lula have known each other for seventeen years." 

Remus hadn't known anyone in his entire life for seventeen years. Not even his parents had lived to see his seventeenth birthday.

Well, he realized, with a sick feeling in his stomach, he'd known Fenrir Greyback for seventeen years.

The scar in his shoulder seemed to twinge with the thought of it.

"We've been together since we were ten."

Remus raised an eyebrow.

"I mean, obviously at ten it was very rudimentary, but we always fit together and there was never this point where either one of us ever actually, technically asked each other out. We've just always been together. It was sort of just accepted? Our parents always encouraged the union, said it would be good for the family genes and all that... Aristocratic families are kind of weird like that, I guess."

Remus murmured, "I've heard," thinking of some of Sirius's family knots.

Spencer sighed, "I guess my point is I've spent a lot of my life being Lula's Boyfriend and I'm genuinely afraid that I may be losing that identity... and I'm not sure what replaces it."

"Stewie the artist," Remus said boldly.

Spencer chuckled, then murmured, "Dunno if I have any art in me when she's not in my life."

"Sure you do. Sirius said he saw you when you were a kid, yeah? You made art then - it's proof that you had art in you before Lula, you'll have it in you after her, too. Assuming you even break up. You might be overthinking things."

Stewie sighed. "I guess." He drained the cup. "I'm sorry I dragged you out of class to listen to my whine, Remus. "Both our portfolios are going to be short at the end of term now."

"We'll figure something out," Remus answered.

Stewie nodded, "Yeah I s'pose we will."

When they left and split ways, Remus realized he was close enough to home he may as well walk, so he plodded along the sidewalk carrying his art supplies and turning over Spencer's troubles in his mind, feeling rather sorry for the bloke. He couldn't imagine being with someone so long as Spencer and Lula had been just to have it shatter. 

When he got back to the Flat in East London, Remus walked in to find Sirius sitting on the couch, cross-legged and staring at something in his hands. When Remus stepped inside, Sirius made whatever it was disappear in short order and he leaped to his feet and rushed over to greet Remus with all the excitement of a dog greeting his owner at the end of a long day. Sirius wrapped his arms around Remus and placed a thousand kisses on his face and Remus laughed, hugging Sirius back. 

"Hey," he said when he was able to get a word in edgewise with all the love Sirius was doling out.

"Yeah?" Sirius asked, looking up into Remus's eyes.

"I love you," Remus said, "And I appreciate you and I love being your husband."

Sirius grinned. "I love being your husband, too."

"Excellent," Remus said and he bent forward and kissed Sirius on the forehead. "Let's never forget that about each other, huh?"

"You alright?" Sirius asked.

Remus nodded. "Just Lula and Stewie having some trouble and it made me realize how thankful I am for you."

"Well I hope they work out whatever it is," Sirius said. Then, before Remus could explain it any further, he interjected, "Remus! We should go visit the Potters."

"We visited them yesterday," Remus reminded Sirius.

"Yes but we should go again today."

"They're going to get sick of us," Remus murmured. "Besides... Peter's working tonight. I thought maybe we could have an evening just the pair of us."

Sirius looked anxious and nibbled his thumbnail at this.

Remus reached up and took Sirius's hand away from his mouth. "What in the world made you decide to quit smoking anyway?" Remus asked.

Sirius shook his head, "Because I'm a idiot?"

"An idiot that'll live longer, I reckon," Remus said.