"Hello, Mr. Lupin. I have been looking positively everywhere for you."

Chase Volsung smiled as Remus Lupin's eyes darted toward the door that led back to the International Disapparation Line floor. He chuckled. "Oh Remus, come now, you can't possibly think I didn't lock that door before making myself known." He turned to the nervous looking witch at the reception desk. "Thanks, Gretchen, I can take it from here." She hurried to grab her things and she ducked out the door behind Chase, giving Remus a brief peek of the underground platform in King's Cross before she closed it back up. Chase smiled and with a flick of his wrist, that door locked, too.

Remus took a step back, knocking his knees into the edge of the chair, accidentally forcing himself back into a seated position, eyes wide as he stared up at Chase Volsung.

Chase sighed, "You act as though I'm something to be afraid of, Mr. Lupin, but honestly, I'm only trying to help you out."

"Help me out?" Remus asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Yes," Chase said emphatically, "C'mon now, it's not like I'm going to kill you or something. I'm not like those other chasers have been in the past, you know that. The Ministry was way, way out of bounds back in the 80s with all that experimental stuff. We've really turned around lately. Have you seen the pamphlets?" He held up one of the cheerful-looking pamphlets the Ministry had been sending out, advertising a Full Moon Containment Complex that they pushed as though they were trying to get folks to sign up for a country club. It was the same one he'd been given months before, when he'd sat in the Office of Support at the Ministry's Magical Interspiecies Liasion Department. "There's even clubs to join."

"Yes, I heard. A Club for Werewolf Motorcar Enthusiasts, yeah?" Remus said, brows pinching. He paused, then added, dryly, "I can't explain how much I want to know how Werewolf Motor Club became a thing."

Chase frowned and shrugged, "Well... come back with me to the Ministry, get registered, and I'll bring you out to the meeting myself and we can ask them."

"I don't want to know that much," Remus answered.

"Come on, Remus, it's honestly just a quick form, a couple thumb prints, chomp down a mo' so we can make a mold of your teeth, and just like that - lickety-split - you're registered and you can get that compensation cheque rolling into your account every month like clockwork."

"Yes, thirty-seven whole galleons. Oh the things I could do with the Ministry's pocket change!" Remus's voice was dripping sarcasm. "I could eat once or twice a month. Maybe do my wash. But not do the wash and eat, of course, just one or the other. Oh. Or - I could pay for a tenth of a shitty one bed flat. Think the roaches would split the other 90% with me?"

Chase laughed, "You've always had such a good humor, Remus."

"Not as good as the Ministry if they think anybody could live off thirty-seven galleons a month."

"See that's what jobs are for."

"A job?" Remus chuckled.

"Yes, you've had one of those, haven't you, Remus?"

"Why... yes, yes I have. I've just been sacked from one, actually; my dream one, in fact. Do you know why that is, Mr. Volsung?"

"Heard you quit," Chase Volsung shrugged.

"Because in a matter of less than twelve hours enough owls had been delivered from parents threatening to poach me and string up Dumbledore flooded the Great Hall to the caretaker's ankles. You might've seen the article in the Daily Prophet? Werewolf on the Loose, No Student Is Safe Until He's Sacked?"

"Then maybe you could ask your husband for some financial support?" Chase hissed, suddenly stepping up very close to Remus.

Remus flinched back. "I - don't know what you mean," he lied.

"You know - the escaped convict that we all know you've been harboring. Sirius Black."

"Harboring!" Remus laughed, "Hardly."

"Where is Black, by the by?" Chase asked, then in an undertone, "You know there's a positively sickening amount of galleons on that bastard's greasy head? You wouldn't even need the werewolf compensation if you turned him in... Could live the rest of your life quite easily on the proceeds of that, especially if you start investing now. Hear there's a bloke down Diagon Alley, just 'round the corner from Gringott's, he reads runes quite well and accurately predicts the muggle stock market." Chase grinned.

"Even if I knew where Sirius was, I wouldn't turn him in," Remus said. "The only thing more appalling than that werewolf penitentiary you Ministry people are pushing is Azkaban itself."

"Ah but they don't have a Motor Club," Chase laughed.

"Well damn," Remus muttered sarcastically.

Chase sighed and reached into his uniform pocket, withdrawing a scroll and an ever-ink quill. He sighed, unrolling the scroll and looking it over. Remus recognized it instantly as the Beast Registration M.O.M. Form #684. It was partially filled out already - leftover from the day he'd visited the liaison office. Chase lowered the form and said, "Alright so... we can do this one of two ways, Lupin. Either we can finish up filling in this form and get you registered and then we'll go and I'll show you the lovely grounds around the Containment Complex and you'll get your first compensation cheque - I'll write it out myself and you can bring it by to Gringott's before they close up shop for the day..."

"Or?" Remus pressed.

"Or... We can finish up filling in this form and get you registered and then we'll go and I'll show you the grounds of the Containment Complex and you'll get your first compensation cheque - I'll write it out myself and you cab bring it by to Gringott's tomorrow because we had such a lovely time in one another's presence that you missed them closing up. You know those goblins like to skedattle right on time."

"Or third option," Remus said, standing up and lowering his tone in an attempt to sound threatening, "You get the hell out of my way and I leave and you and the Ministry can shove that bleeding compensation cheque right up your ---"

Chase murmured, a wave of his wand and magic was already binding Remus, even as he spoke, "Or I could incarcerate you effective immediately for resisting compliance with Wizarding Regulations and breaking the laws set forth by the Werewolf Restriction Act of 1964."

"It was 1963, you incompetent prick," Remus growled.

Chase laughed, "That's right, it was your daddy that wrote the Act, wasn't it?" Remus was sneering, looking even more wolfish than usual, and Chase chuckled, "Oh, bad doggy." His eyes twinkled. "C'mon, Lupin, let's go and see how a night in containment in the Ministry dungeons makes you feel about finishing up this form, huh?" And Chase reached out, taking a firm grip on Remus's elbow and with a loud crack they disapparated out of the welcoming office at King's Cross and reappeared in the disapparation hall in the MInistry for Magic, just down the corridor from the Magical Law Enforcement offices.

Chase led the struggling Remus down the corridor, holding onto the elbow as he guided him along. Remus's knees were fit to give out and he winced with each step, limping. Chase glanced down and noticed, adjusting his gait for Remus's slower one. "They're bothering you, aren't they?" he asked Remus.

"You know they are."

"They always do," Chase admitted his knowledge. His mouth curved into a frown as he led Remus down the corridor to the lift. The grate closed and Chase Volsung pressed a load of buttons and pulleys and the lift started heading down through the floors of the Ministry. They were nearly there when there was a ding and the elevator made a stop, the door opening.

Remus found himself face-to-face with Nymphadora Tonks. 

"Wotcher Remus!" she said in surprise, her grey eyes widening. "What are you --" Although her face was lit with delight as she initially started the sentence, the color drained from not only her cheeks but also from the shock of her pink hair, making it turn brown as her eyes landed on the ropes around his wrist and the stupid smirking grin on Chase Volsungs, "--doing?" she finished, looking at Volsung. "What the hell are you doing?" she repeated with more venom in the question.

Chase replied, "Mr. Lupin here is in violation of several Ministry codes and requirements and --"

"Is it about that stupid form? Bleeding balls, Chase!" Tonks drew her wand and with a flick of it ,the M.O.M. #683 was filled out - Remus could see the ink even through the back of it. She glared at Chase, "Now untie my friend, you idiot - and that's an order."

"An order," Chase snorted. He shook his head, "Calm down, little one. You haven't got jurisdiction over the Interspecies offices, you're just a piss-on auror. You can't enforce any orders you give."

Tonks tilted her head, a wicked smile coming across her face as she raised her wand. "Who says I give a damn about my jurisdictions, Volsung?" She batted her eyelashes and added, "You really wanna try and see what I can and cannot do to enforce this order, pond scum?"

The crazy glint in her eyes was just psycho enough that Chase Volsung gave legitimate pause to his response, his mouth opening then closing.

"You have your ickle form, now fuck off," she said and she pointed down the corridor.

Chase Volsung glanced at the form, then back at Remus Lupin. The form was indeed completely filled out, including with a permanent address. All that was missing were the thumb prints. Chase glowered at Tonks, then turned his gaze to Remus. "Lupin, if you are not at the liaison office tomorrow before half twelve to take prints and make your mold, we will consider you in contempt of law and will collect you and send you to a fortnight at Azkaban prison. Do you understand?"

Remus growled in response.

Tonks stared at Chase.

He sighed and dropped the incantation binding Remus so that the cords dropped away, disappearing, and Remus rubbed his wrists. The ropes had been too tight for comfort and his finger tips were all pins and needles.

"Byyyeee," Tonks sang as Chase stepped off the lift and sauntered down the corridor in frustration and anger. She reached forward and quickly pressed the door close button before rounding on Remus. "What the hell are you doing back from -- from you know where?!"

Remus lowered his voice, "Trying to find Snuffles"

"Snuffles?" Tonks's eyes widened. "Snuffles is in London?"

"I don't know," Renus answered. He sighed, then, "No, no he would be somewhere else. Somewhere closer to Hogwarts."

"Even worse," murmured Tonks. "Why?"

Remus hesitated.

"Remus?"

His voice went to barely a breath and Tonks had to lean in to hear him. "Harry's scar is hurting."

Tonks's brows came together, "Pardon?"

"Harry Potter wrote him a letter saying that his scar is hurting and he said last time it hurt like it is now You Know Who was at Hogwarts."

Tonks stared at Remus in disbelief.

"I didn't come with him at first and now I'm trying to catch him up."

"I see."

Remus sighed, "I don't know," he said, turning away and shaking his head, "It's stupid. I'm stupid. I thought -- Well, it doesn't matter what I thought because clearly nothing it doesn't matter and I've just gone and gotten myself into a helluva lot more trouble than anything else. And I don't even have a place to go really - at least not one where I feel safe and --"

"You can come to my flat with me, Remus," Tonks said instantly. She flushed. "I mean, it might not be particularly safe  - I mean, it's small and stupid and all I've got to offer you is a fold out couch-bed and a cantankerous room mate who's deep in her emo-goth phase, but you're probably used to that with Snuffles anyway, right?"

Remus laughed, too, in spite of himself. "Well, he's a bit more emo-punk than emo-goth, but --"

"Close enough," Tonks smirked, eyes twinkling.

The elevator door dinged as it opened out onto the atrium. 

Tonks held out her hand to keep the elevator from closing before Remus had stepped out of it, waving for him to follow her. "C'mon - what's the alternative at this hour, hey? I'll even feed you. And you'll be close enough to come back here in the morning to catch Volsung before his stupid deadline, unless we can plot out some way for you to avoid him altogether that is, of course."

Remus studied her a long moment, the ache in his knees twinging at that exact moment, threatening to give out if he so much as considered turning her down.

"Alright," he said, "Just for the night."

"Of course," Tonks said, "I don't want a smelly wolf hanging around forever!" She nudged him playfully, smiling.

Remus forced an uneasy smile as he followed her across the atrium toward the hall of floos.

Tonks was walking backwards, face flush with excitement. "Now just for full disclosure, by feed you I mean I'll open a can of soup and warm it up in the popty ping in our finest china bought from the charity shop."

Remus was still rubbing his wrists, filled with gratitude for her quick thinking and rescue from his captor. "Honestly, Tonks, you could serve it cold out of the tin and I'd still be thankful for it."

"Nasty cold soup in the tin? Gross." Tonks laughed, "What do you think I run? A werewolf containment complex?" She nudged him and winked, then turned and hurried toward a floo grate.