Remus apparated in Hogsmeade with a loud popping sound. His knees immediately buckled and he nearly fell, catching himself against the outer wall of the Three Broomsticks. "Ow, Godric!" he swore, and he panicked slightly - had he splinched?

A quick check of everything showed he was all in once piece and he groaned in relief, closing his eyes and sighing.

No, but it had certainly hurt.

That strike from Greyback, when Remus had fallen to his knees at the end of the battle, combined with the effects of the soon-approaching moon... It was one of those mid-mornings when it still hung, nearly transparent, in the sky and Remus winced at it's gibbous state as he pushed himself off from the wall and stepped out of the little close between the Broomsticks and the Owl Post Office.

He was reminded how foolish he'd been to challenge Dumbledore once again. Even if the plan itself had been solid, it was still so wrong of him - irresponsible and selfish - to be taking on such a risk as trying to lead a rescue mission so close to the full moon. His limbs could barely work to get by through his own everyday life, much less to go to battle... He really had put them all in so much danger! He had done alright, sure, and fought Greyback okay considering, but then again Greyback was likely in the same predicament as Remus as far as having pains close to the full moon.

Guilt weighted him as he started walking toward the castle. Every step felt heavy and pain shot from his knee to his shin, sharp as a dagger being plummeted through his bones. 

He was passing the fountain in the center of Hogsmeade when he heard Dumbledore's voice. "Remus, my boy. You should be resting."

Remus turned and suddenly Dumbledore was beside him, his old face appeared haggard and his eyes were brilliantly blue, sad and sunken with exhaustion.

"I had to talk to you," Remus said.

Dumbledore hesitated, then nodded, "I wanted to wait until later... considering everything that has happened now, perhaps it isn't the time to --"

"No, sir, please I have to apologize. I know you said you didn't think I needed to and all that rubbish you said about bravery but --" Remus's voice cracked, "But I'm sorry. I'm sorry and I ought to be. I --"

Dumbledore shook his head. "Come, Remus, walk with me back up to the castle and we shall talk out of the range of hearing ears."

Remus loathed the idea of walking, but he did it just the same, and after a few minutes time, Dumbledore paused. "I know, Mr. Lupin, that you are no longer a boy attending my school - but may I teach you something?"

"Sir?"

Dumbledore held up his wand, then said, "Baculum!" The wand exploded into a sturdy walking stick. He smiled and looked it over. "Wizards of the elder years used that charm quite a lot." He leaned against the staff for a moment, then looked at Remus, "It is how so many muggles came to believe all us wizards are old, wise, bearded, and carry a staff. When really, we simply have bad hips..." he looked at Remus's legs. "Or knees."

Remus flushed, but the took his wand and he shook it like Dumbledore had done. "Baculum!" he said and with a burst, his wand was a staff with a round orb at the top, just the shape of his wand.  As they continued on in a heavy silence, Remus had to admit that it was a lot easier walking with the stick to lean on and Remus murmured, "Thanks, sir."

Dumbledore nodded.

Dumbledore kept a slow pace, for which Remus was thankful for that. They were out of the city proper and on the road toward Hogwarts when Dumbledore finally glanced back over his shoulder and tapped the ground with the staff in his hand. Remus felt a sort of cool breeze wash over him.

"A Keep Quiet charm," Dumbledore said, seeing Remus look about them, trying to figure out what the sensation had been. "Very similar to the muffliato that you and your friends were rather fond of in detentions."

Remus flushed. 

"It silences the space around two people as well as keeps your own sound from carrying off."  Before Remus could comment, Dumbledore said, "It is vitally important that what we say here does not leave our presence, Mr. Lupin."

"It is?"

Dumbledore nodded, stopping walking. Remus held up and clung onto the staff carefully.

"Last night," Dumbledore began, "We all suffered an incredible loss. Irreplaceable, really. The Prewett Twins were among our best and brightest fighters in the Order, as well as in our hearts - our friends, our family." He hung his head shook head, shaking it mournfully, his eyes closing as he absorbed the pain of the words.

Remus felt his eyes go a bit blurry from emotion, but he took a deep breath and looked away, sweeping his palm over his face. He couldn't let himself cry fully yet or he'd never stop and he needed Sirius to be with him when that sort of emotion finally overtook him. They'd breakdown together later - soon - when he was home from this meeting, he was sure of it. But for now he had to stay strong and say what he had to say.

"Which is exactly why I was wrong for what I did last night, Dumbledore," Remus said. "You said not to apologize and all that rubbish about leadership qualities but if I was displaying true leadership qualities I would have recognized that a leader physically compromised has no right to go into battle."

Dumbledore stared at Remus. "My boy, you are taking too much upon your shoulders. You are not to blame for the outcome of the battle. Even in perfect health, leaders make mistakes, first of all, and secondly you managed yourself quite well in the battle, Mr. Lupin. I was speaking with Elphinstone Urquart just now and he was telling me that you leveled Fenrir Greyback not once but twice, and faced down Evan Rosier as well - both of whom have been long-time enemies to you."

Remus said, "I didn't manage to actually capture either one of them, sir."

"No but you taught them both a lesson they shall not forget - and, in the case of Fenrir Greyback, you've done something extremely important."

"What?"

"Ever since last year, when you faced Greyback at Fallengunder, he has slowly fallen from the graces of Voldemort," Dumbledore said boldly, "He has gone from one of the top Death Eaters among them to one whom has pulled a lot of grunt-work missions, things that are physically tolling without much pay-off. The demotion has put quite a dent in your old enemy's reputation."

Remus raised an eyebrow, "What, because I threw him against a wall and knocked him down a couple times?"

"Remus, how you talk down your own powerful displays!" Dumbledore scolded.

Remus shrugged.

Dumbledore said, "You know as well as anyone what it means when one werewolf defeats another in battle - even when you are not in your wolfish states of mind, there is a special connection between the biter and the bitten in werewolf lore, I need not remind you how the Alpha system works in wolves, however, and Fenrir Greyback has been defeated by one of his own." 

"Good, I'm glad he's been embarrassed, then," Remus said.

Dumbledore stared at Remus for a long moment, then reached out a palm and lay it on Remus's shoulder. "Because of the loss," Dumbledore murmured, "The werewolves created by Fenrir Greyback, who are many, have no pack leader... their Alpha was defeated, Remus, which means they've a new Alpha leader, by the rites of deep magic within their community... strict laws written in their blood."

A chill ran down Remus's spine.

Dumbledore studied Remus's face for a long moment. "The lack of a leader is what's led to the attacks in Blackburn..."

Remus raised his eyebrow.

"The result is that the large community of werewolves which Greyback lead have fractured into smaller packs that war against one another. While this in some ways helps us - un-united themselves, Voldemort struggles to bring the werewolves under his banner now as each pack chooses for itself it's alliances  - however. There are packs with stronger leaders than others and some of the packs have simply begun to run amok - like the pack in Blackburn. We have seen, however, how strong they are when united under one leader. Under Greyback, they fought for Voldemort but without Greyback to unite them they are weakened. But we know that they do not have personal alliances with Voldemort, necessarily, for the packs which Ned lead at Fallengunder were --"

"Ned was a pack leader?" Remus interrupted.

"My boy, all those werewolves at Fallengunder were under his command."

Remus felt tears well up in his eyes.

Dumbledore waited for Remus to regain his composure, a beat of maybe ten seconds, and then he said, "Imagine if all the packs were united under one leader again - a leader devoted to our cause... to stopping Voldemort, rather than helping him."

Remus met Dumbledore's eyes.

"Remus," Dumbledore said quietly, "You're the only one who could rightfully make that happen."

Remus shook his head, "I couldn't. You're mad."

"Remus." Dumbledore's hand, still on Remus's shoulder, tightened in grip. "They are a community with a defeated Alpha and you are the one who has defeated Greyback. By the deepest sorts of magic the earth posesses you are the rightful heir of Greyback's bitten. By all accounts, you need merely walk in and take your position."

Remus 's head was still shaking, "I - I - I - That's - you're - that's absurd, absurd, Dumbledore. Especially after what happened tonight, after --"

"You proved yourself, Remus, tonight. Three times defeated - there's magic in numbers and repetitions of threes. The earth itself recognizes you as their leader and any other will struggle to prove themselves without defeating you themselves. I have managed to keep quiet your identity, but with two more instances of defeat int he heat of battle - there's no telling which of the Death Eaters at Ovington Square saw what you'd done, which of them are assigned working among werewolves - and what they might say. You'll become a target of the werewolves vying for the leadership role - do you see? Unless you take it yourself."

Remus stared, unseeing, at the line of trees beyond Dumbledore, dizzied by the information. He felt like he was swimming - drowning, rather.

"I have a proposal to make to you, Remus, and I do not expect your answer now but I fully expect you to go home and have a talk with your husband and your friends of course."

Remus's eyes met Dumbledore's.

"I once made this same proposition to Ned Veigler," he added, "And Ned agreed to help us."

Remus looked away, panic filling him, knowing already what Dumbledore was about to say.

"If you were to step into the role which natural, deep magic has handed to you... you could be the liaison for the Order amongst the werewolves. And strong is the army which you would command. You could put the werewolves squarely onto our side, protect them against the attacks of Voldemort. Protect them against the hatred of the Ministry for Magic. They have no alliances currently, but as the individual packs form, they are choosing for themselves, and they are prone to choose wrong because of the Ministry's treatment of Werewolves. They repeatedly fall prey to the promises of Voldemort. You, Remus, could unite them and bring them into the Order."

Remus tucked his hands into the sleeves of his jumper, suddenly very cold. He gripped the staff that was his wand very tightly and closed his eyes. 

Suddenly the weight of the world felt as though it had been placed upon his shoulders.

And he wished more than anything else on the entire planet that he could have just ten minutes time to talk to Ned Veigler.

"Think it over, my boy," Dumbledore said quietly. "And let me know what you decide to do."

Sirius went for a drink at the Leaky Cauldron. He couldn't just sit in the Potter's living room all alone with Roger, who had decided to impose himself on Sirius after Peter had left. The cat's weight on Sirius's chest as he lay on the couch had reminded him too much of the anxiety he'd felt when the love magic had worked on Peter and he had gotten up and popped through the floo to get away from the feeling.

"It's not even noon yet," Tom the bartender had grumbled when Sirius ordered the drink.

"Tom, do I look like I give a damn what time it is? I've been up all night and my brain's about to explode, c'mon and cut a guy a break."

The first glass slid across the counter.

He drank two short glasses of firewhiskey, which was only enough really to lower his inhibitions rather than set him drunk at all. He decided then that he needed some air and he stepped out of the Cauldron and into Diagon Alley.

Given the trauma that they'd all gone through overnight, the hub-bub and bustle of Diagon Alley was jarring and Sirius stared around at how everything just kept on going on all around him, even as he felt as though the sky was cracked open. Where was the rain and the lonely music that ought to accompany this sort of event? he wondered.

He walked squarely into Jasper Odair before he saw him, he was so deep in thought.

"Bloody hell Sirius," Jasper said, laughing, "What --" he stopped, taking Sirius's state in, and asked, a bit more worried, "Sirius, what happened?"

"There was a battle last night," Sirius said. "A mission turned bad out in Knightbridge."

"I didn't get any patronus calling us in."

"Dumbledore didn't summons everyone, only a partial call." Sirius hesitated, then said, "Jaz, the Prewett twins are --"

Jasper's eyes widened. "No," he said, shaking his head, "That's got to be a mistake."

Sirius frowned, "I wish it was, but it isn't - everyone saw it. I didn't see it happen - I was stunned - but I saw them when I was rennervated and -- It's true."

Jasper's hand covered his mouth, as though he wanted to scream in reaction.

"James is in shambles," Sirius muttered, "His last talk with Gid was a fight last night. He's blaming himself. But yet I'm the one that got Gideon and James fighting - me - being a wanker on my motorbike and all. But they had a real shouting match at the Ministry and now James is just... he's letting it settle on him so heavy. He's already got so much going on and it's just another log on the fire."

"Bleeding hell," Jasper muttered, remembering James's speech that night at the church when he'd walked to the podium and declared himself inadequate. 

Sirius sighed heavily, "Anyways, I just fancied a walk to clear my head and here I am."

Jasper nodded. "Walks are good. Fresh air. You ought to have brought James along with you."

"He had to pop over to Mungo's. His mum's been there - Dragon Pox symptoms."

Jasper frowned.

"Anyways Jaz, I gotta --" Sirius wagged his thumb indicating he had to go. Antsy, he couldn't keep still and he just wanted to walk and walk.

"Right. Yeah. I understand. Hey stop back by the ice cream parlor if you're hungry, alright? Whatever you like. It's on me."

Sirius stared at Jasper. "You know if I wasn't extremely depressed that I would make a very dirty joke about now, don't you?"

"I've never felt more spared of something in my life," Jasper said.

Sirius laughed softly, barely a breath. Then, "Anyway. I got to go. See you about."

Jasper waved. He stood still and watched Sirius wander off until he'd disappeared among the crowded streets. Then he hurried back to the Ice Cream Parlor. He had to tell Meg what had happened...

Meanwhile, Sirius went on through Diagon Alley and came to the square, and he found himself, without really thinking about it much, at the steps of Gringott's Bank. He climbed them slowly, reaching into his pocket and withdrawing the funny coin - the cog - that had been given to him by his Uncle Alphard all those years ago.

Inside, goblins sat at their desks, lining the long entry hallway and Sirius looked about at the grandeur - the chandeliers and wood paneling and bankers lamps on each of the tall desks that loomed high over his head as he walked down the center of the aisle toward the reception desk of the bank, where the goblin which checked guests into the bank sat, looking over his books with a long quill in his palm.

Last time Sirius had been in Gringott's, he'd gone to the Black Family vault and only just barely got back out of it. But this time there was no deception, no trickery being done. He wouldn't end up locked in the vault, he told himself repeatedly.

The goblin looked up from his books. "May we help you?" he asked.

Sirius nodded.

The goblin lowered his quill. "And how may I help you?" he demanded.

Sirius held up the cog. "I'd like to visit my vault."

The goblin reached into a pocket of his vest, removed a tiny pair of glasses, which he peered through as he plucked the cog out of Sirius's palm and turned it over in his own. "Let me see... let me see... hmmm. This key is very old. Let me see here - the number's been scraped off...." he paused and turned his lamp to a different book, a thick volume with line upon line upon line upon line of hand-written records - a list of every vault in the bank along with the name of the owner. His fingertip slid across the page until he came to the one he was looking for. "Vault 157," he said finally, looking up, over the frame of his glasses at Sirius. "Unregistered." He paused, then nodded, and slid off his chair. "Very well, sir, come with me."

Sirius followed him out of the entry hall to the platform beside the mine carts which were used to get about in Gringott's. The head goblin motioned for the escort to come over and as he pressed the cogn into the escort's hand, he said, "It is an unregistered vault. Top privacy and discretion, sir."

"Yes sir." The escorting goblin turned to Sirius, "Come with me and be sure to buckle in. We're going a long way down."

Sirius nodded as he climbed into the cart.

And down they went.

Down, down, down, through the dark and past so many vaults Sirius could never have kept count, even if he had a hundred hours to try at it.

The cart ride seemed to last forever before finally they pulled up in front of what looked like a dark alley. The goblin climbed off the cart and Sirius followed. As they walked, the goblin used a torch to light other torrches along the way until they reached a door at the very end.

The door had a big round mechanical looking apparatus secured in the very center - all very still and impossible looking. 

The goblin reached out and dropped Sirius's cog onto a spindle and he pulled a crank handle.

The cogs and wheels on the door came to life, spinning and large bolts of iron clunked as they drew back and soon they were all undone and the goblin stepped forward and cranked a large wheel that had been uncovered. He turned the wheel, cranking it. It was hard work, the machinery hadn't moved in years and years... and finally the door gave way, swinging open.

Sirius hesitated, even as the goblin waved for him to go inside.

Sirius stepped into the vault.