It was late at night, or perhaps early in the morning, depending upon how one considers time to pass, when Remus Lupin awoke in his private quarters with a start.

He'd been having a terrible dream. In it, he was the portrait that hung over the door to Gryffindor Tower and it was him who was facing Sirius Black on Halloween night. It was him who Sirius screamed at to "open up!" and only him who stood between Sirius and his prey. It was him, Remus, that Sirius pulled a knife on and started slashing - slashing - slashing - slashing.. but the knife melted away into the sharp claws of the big, black, shaggy dog and the moonlight glinted off his yellowed teeth and the scratching tore right through the canvas until the dog's claws were scratching on wood of the door behind and Remus sat up, certain that he could hear the scratching with his actual ears.

The winter air came with a sudden vengeance, getting proper cold for December. Remus sat in bed, cold, his fireplace having gone out at some point during the night, and he could smell snow and pine. He climbed out of bed, shuffling to the fireplace, where he quickly lit the fire before turning to the window.

It was freezing and he could see the snow flakes falling through the dark. He pushed open the window, despite the cold, and drew a deep breath that bit at his nostrils and lungs. Despite the bitterness of the cold, the scent of snow and trees had always made him feel warm. Not in the way that many people associated it with Christmas but because it reminded him of the Potter wedding and the feeling of being near to friends for a joyous occasion. As he stood there in the window, his brain seemed to echo with music, as though played from a great distance off.

Do you wanna dance, under the moonlight?
Squeeze and kiss me all through the night?
Oh baby, do you wanna daaaaaance?

Remus held onto the window sill, watching his breath float away in little puffs of clouds. Far off, he could see similar puffs trailing over the trees of the forest - the smoke from the homes in Hogsmeade Village, he realized, and he watched it scoot away into the sky. Suddenly, a couple thestrals were breaking the canopy of trees and their skeletal forms wove around the smoke trails, seeming to dance around the warm air from the chimneys. He watched for a long time, thinking how sad and beautiful they were.

Finally, his face was too cold to keep looking out like that, and he pulled back, closing the window and deciding that he'd like a cup of tea before going back to bed. In the back of his head, he could still almost hear the scratching of the dog's claws on the wood and he was still feeling very unsettled.

The water was hot and steamed as he poured it into an old, chipped teacup. He set himself into a chair, which he magically moved as close to the fireplace as he dared put it. Sometimes when he got cold like this he wouldn't have minded setting himself on fire for the desire of some warmth, but he reckoned that Argus Filch would disapprove of it if he were to singe the furniture. He sipped his tea and reached for a book - an old paperback he had read probably a hundred thousand times.

Outside, the wind howled against the window and he thought to himself how dreadful it sounded, how cold, and how thankful he was that when it came time for the full moon he would not be having to stay out of doors in the bomb shelter at home or else in the Shrieking Shack, where the drafts were never quite kept out and the deeper into the werewolf's bones the cold sank the more violent and horrid his transformations became.

He lowered his book and looked at the window.

Remus got up and walked over, looking through the glass in the direction of the Shrieking Shack, and he shivered. It would be freezing cold out there... deathly cold... made all the worse by dementors roaming the streets of Hogsmeade.

He made up his mind before he even realized he was thinking of doing it.

He waved his wand and the extra blankets from his own bed were rolling up, stuffing themselves into a rucksack and he was tying off the top, slinging it over his shoulder as he tugged on two jumpers, his suit jacket and his overcoat and gloves. He stepped into the hallway with determination and began the trek.

Down the stairs through the castle, out the door and into the snow. His old loafers were soaked in seconds and the socks wet at the toes where a small hole let the snow in. He kicked the snow out a couple times as he resolutely kept on until he was a few feet away from the Whomping Willow. The tree shook and snow flew in clumps, leaving pocks in the snow on the ground where it fell. Remus magicked a stone to hit the knot in the wood, and ducked under the cover of the low hanging branches, sliding on his rump into the hole at the base of the tree, landing on the rucksack.

"Lumos."

Light quivered on the tip of his wand, and he gathered up the sack and started off.

It was a long walk through the passageway, and he could see his breath, though it was a little warmer in there than it would've been outside at least, with no wind or snow to contend with. His hands slid along the walls, feeling familiar places in the tunnel with his palms.

"Are you alright?" Remus asked.

"I'm just swell, Rey."

"Are you sure?"

"I'm positive!"

It was an ugly scar, a terrible scar, made all the uglier by the fact that Remus knew it had been his own mouth that had inflicted it on Sirius. The skin wouldn't ever be the same.

The scar was pink and puckered, and he had it for the rest of his life...

Has it now, Remus thought.

"I'm sorry," Remus said. And he meant it. He had never felt like such a monster as he had that moment, fingers on the scar.

"Mate, it happens, everyday," Sirius said.

It was the most ridiculous thing anyone had ever said.

"Everyday? Someone gets mauled by their werewolf mate everyday?"

"Well, perhaps not everyday, but I reckon it's common enough."

Remus shook his head, "It's not."

Sirius shrugged in that way that only Sirius Black could - so cool and casual, as though the most serious things in the world were but trifles. "So we're originals." He has smiled, consolingly, as though Remus, the biter, was the one who needed comfort from him, Sirius, the bitten. "Did you get the blankets at least?"

Remus had reached the trapdoor.

It had taken a decade and a half, but he was finally going to return the favor of that night.

Carefully, Remus climbed up the steps to the door, holding onto the rucksack, nervousness setting in as he placed his hands against the wood.

What if Sirius was a right mess again, like last time he had come out here? Or worse, what if he wasn't? What if he was completely in his right mind and they actually had to talk? What would Remus say? What was there to say?

"You start with I love you, and you see where it goes from there," Lily said, touching Remus's arm. She looked into his eyes, "All this separation is making us all mad, I know. I miss you so much. But it'll be better soon, won't it? Once it's all done. We'll be together always, then."

"Start with I love you and see where it goes from there," Remus murmured.

He pushed open the trap door, and threw up the ruck sack first, listening for shouting or any kind of noise in the Shack. There was something, far off, upstairs. Remus pulled himself through and into the kitchen.

It was dusty and dim, and just as freezing cold as Remus had expected. He shivered and dragged the rucksack into the living room.

"Sirius?" he called, keeping his voice low. "Sirius... I - I've brought you blankets."

No response, but he could still hear the noise upstairs.

He left the sack there in the living room, breath still hanging in clouds before him as he climbed the stairs and went 'round the bannister to the door of the room, which was closed.

He knocked.

Nothing.

He knocked again, then, nervous, pushed the door open.

With the lights out, it's less dangerous
Here we are now, entertain us
I feel stupid and contagious...
Here we are now, entertain us...

Hello, hello, hello, hello, hello...
Hello, hello, hello, hello, hello...
Hello, hello, hello, hello, hello...

The room was empty, the radio on low, but with no one there to hear it playing.