Disclaimer: Much as I would like to claim I did, I did not come up with the idea for Harry Potter. J.K. Rowling deserves all the praise and credit we can give for creating such an amazing world. I take no profit from her characters.

Author's Note: Welcome, friends, to The Cottage in Hogsmeade! Enjoy and respect my story, and as always, please read and review! Today's chapter will focus entirely around your favourite werewolf and mine, Remus Lupin.

---

November 4th, 1981.

Looking down at the striking granite stones before him, it took all of his human strength not to howl his heartbreak into the sky.

James Vincent Potter, 1960-1981. Time, like a balm, eases the blow of loss.

Lily Maria Potter, 1960-1981. Love so transcends that, even in Death, I am with you.

The turned soil that had once topped the graves had been covered with fresh sod since the funeral. Had it truly only been three days? Time had never been so deceptive as it had in those past three days. Remus Lupin was certain that he had aged a hundred years or more.

"I'm leaving." He spoke softly to the headstones, hesitant to disturb the blanket-like quiet of the small cemetery. "Got to find a new job. They'd been looking for an excuse to fire me… not showing up for a few days was just the thing they were waiting for. And the rent's almost due, and I can't get ends to meet…" He sighed, trying to expel some of the cold that had slowly taken over his body since he heard the news. "Besides," he continued in a whisper, squeezing his eyes shut, trying to force down the pain. "I just can't stay around here. It's too hard…"

Sorrow threatened to overwhelm him. Two—no, three—of his best friends, dead. And one… one responsible for them all…

"Remus?"

If possible, he went colder, and turned sharply. In the deepening dusk he looked down at the woman who was all he had left in the world.

"Ani," he answered quietly. She moved closer and the fragments of his heart shattered further. A pure white arrangement of roses, moonflowers, gardenias and orchids foamed in her arms, dazzling against her staid, simple black mourning dress. Her eyes, once sparkling and incandescent, now looked shuttered and blank. His mind flashed. He hadn't seen her since he found out that James and Lily were dead… Not since that horrible night, the mere memory of which caused shame to smolder within him.

"What are you doing here?" she questioned, avoiding his gaze and stepping past him to lay the flowers on the graves.

"Saying goodbye," he confessed, and she turned her wide eyes to him in confusion. "I got fired. I have to leave to find work."

"Can't you find work here?" Ani asked him, a hitch in her voice.

He shook his head and had to turn away from the pain he could see in her face. "Even if I could, my rent's due, and I've been late for the past three months… they, too, are just waiting until they can boot me out."

The cogs in her mind seemed to be working furiously. "Well," she faltered, searching for an alternative, "if you wanted you could stay with me… I could help you out, just until you find your feet again…"

A pride that rarely surfaced bubbled up and he shook his head fiercely before she'd even finished. "I won't be a burden or in debt to you, Ani."

"For Merlin's sake, Remus, it's not a burden. I'm inviting you!"

"Even if I wanted to, Ani—which I don't—I wouldn't," he repeated.

"Why not?" The shutters behind her eyes had cracked open and he could see indignation and hurt forming there. For some reason the expression was almost as painful as the memory of the recently dead. He forced himself to ignore it.

"I just… I need to get away," he tried to explain. She took a step away from him, her eyes narrowing. "Being here, being constantly reminded of what's happened—God, it's bloody unbearable, I just can't deal with it, Ani." He couldn't meet her gaze.

"Remus," Ani tried, moving forward again. "Remus, we're friends. And after all that's happened, we need each other now more than ever. Please, let me help…" She reached out for him.

He pushed her hand away and tried to ignore the shock that blossomed over her face. "No," he said firmly. "I know what I need, Ani, and I can't get that by staying here with you. If I'm around you, I'll never stop thinking about—"

"Alright," she cut him off tartly. "You don't have to say anymore. I get it."

He forgot to avoid those remarkable eyes, and when he looked at her, they snapped at him from the darkness. "Well, I can't make you stay," Ani continued, her voice honed to a razor sharp edge. "And now I'm not even sure that I want to." Her voice started to shake, the anger rapidly becoming eclipsed by sadness. He had to turn away from it. "I just never thought that the one person I've got left to count on—the one person who understands what I'm going through—would abandon me, too."

Against his will, anguish gushed over him. "Ani," he murmured, turning back to face her. But as quickly as she had come, she was gone again: the night was blacker because of it. The flowers the only evidence of her presence, and even they looked less beautiful without her arms around them.

Remus was alone.

---

February 10th, 1982.

The stern looking account manager handed Remus his last pay-bag. "Your severance pay will be deposited to your account within four work days and an official statement will be Owled to your home," she droned through pursed lips. "Security personnel will escort your from the premises."

"I can find my own way out," Remus muttered, pocketing the very light bag of gold and turning on his heel.

"It is the policy of the Daily Prophet bookkeeping staff that upon dismissal you are escorted by security," the woman replied shrilly. Remus waved his hand in exasperated acceptance and no sooner had he reached the accounting office door did a guard appeared.

The square-jawed guard (who really couldn't have been more than two years out of Hogwarts, making Remus feel ridiculously old) stayed stoic and silent and for that Remus was grateful. He had already had enough of the stares and behind-the-hands whispers that were now following him out the door.

I can't believe they hired one of his kind!

He resisted the urge to snarl under his breath, schooling his temper down to an icy silence. He would rage in private.

Finally, after ages of walking, they reached the exit—the public exit, Remus noticed, no longer the staff exit. The young guard opened the door and nodded toward it curtly. Remus wanted nothing better than to lay a fist to that smug, set jaw but decided against it. Instead he swept a mocking, sketching bow and strode out of the door.

It snapped shut behind him and Remus narrowly avoided kicking a dustbin nearby in his frustration. "That's the second bleeding job in three months," he muttered, jamming his hands into his pockets as he stalked down the street. "At this rate, I'm going to wind up a dishwasher at some Muggle pub!"

He stopped in a shop doorway, forcing himself to take deep, calming breaths. If he thought about it rationally, now was probably the best time of the month to be fired. The full moon was rapidly approaching, so he could hide in his flat and transform without having to worry about missing work. Yet… on the other hand… Remus sighed. As usual, late rent was nipping at his heels, and the stringy, creeping landlord of the flat where he now stayed had taken to haunting the hall outside Remus' flat whenever he came home. Thank God for Apparating, Remus thought.

An uncharacteristic sense of panic started to overwhelm him. He could not deny that things were falling rapidly apart and that the walls were steadily closing in on him. It had been months since he'd felt relaxed or at ease. This lifestyle was affecting his sleep—he was lucky to get three solid hours most nights. This could not go on much longer, or he would surely go mad.

What you need, a voice whispered in his mind, is someone to talk to, before you go mad. Someone who can help you through this.

Without another thought, Remus furtively looked around him and, seeing no one else, focused the particles of his mind on where he most wanted to be.

Crack!

He landed, quicker than a blink, with a thud in a quiet hallway. The building just on the outskirts of London where Ani Hellsing lived was always clean and brightly lit, as opposed to the past few places that he, Remus, had occupied. The number 111 gleamed against the freshly painted green door and the carpet beneath his feet had yet to be worn through. It was, Remus had decided long ago, a welcoming place. He only hoped he would still receive a welcome from the woman within. Though, if she slammed the door in his face, he wouldn't be at all surprised.

Absently he ran a hand over his hair, growing ever more aware at the threads of grey that were beginning to shoot through the strands. He hadn't seen or heard from Ani since November, though he'd been tempted to contact her almost daily. His behavior after James and Lily's deaths still made him slightly queasy to think about—he knew that he'd been dreadful to Ani, that he had not handled the situation well at all. These things had kept him away: but now, more than ever, he needed to lay aside the past and speak to his best friend again. Almost four months apart was far, far too much.

He conjured up a daisy (It's got a kind of school boy charm, he rationed to himself) and clutched it in his hand as he knocked timidly on the door of the flat. Footfalls were heard, and a moment later the door swung slowly inward.

Remus blinked hard. The tall, buxom black witch behind the door smiled politely. "May I help you?" she asked. Her eyes flicked from the daisy in his hand to his slightly tattered robes, then focused with mild curiosity back on his face.

"I'm terribly sorry," he stammered when he found his tongue. "I was looking for Ani Hellsing…she lives in this flat. Or, at least, she used to." He peered around her as unobtrusively as possible. Not even Ani's elegant, simple furniture remained. The décor of the flat was now slick and ultramodern.

"No, I'm sorry: I've been here for about three months now," the woman informed him, causing Remus' head to swim ever faster.

Three months! What's happening? he thought desperately. Where has Ani gone?

"Mr. Lupin?"

He whirled around. Carolyn Dean, Ani's landlady with whom she was very friendly and to whom Remus had been introduced on numerous occasions, stood in the doorway to the flat she occupied just several doors down. "I thought I heard your voice," the elderly witch said, her cloud grey eyes warm behind thick spectacles. "What are you doing here?"

Remus turned back to the occupant of number 111. "I'm terribly sorry for disturbing you," he said quietly. He turned away and walked quickly over to Mrs. Dean, taking her outstretched hand in greeting. "I was looking for Ani… it seems she's moved. We haven't spoken in awhile, obviously—would you be so kind as to tell me where I might find her?"

To his immediate distress, Mrs. Dean shook her closely cropped silver hair. "I wish I could, m'dear," she said sadly. She caught Remus' look of shock and said gently, "Come inside, love, and have a cuppa. We'll talk there."

"No," Remus declined instantly, his thoughts whirling. His breath was coming out strangely shallow. "No, thank you, Mrs. Dean. Please… you don't know anything about where Ani's gone? Surely she's just moved to another building in town. Perhaps someplace closer to St. Mungo's, so she can be on call? She is the head resident, after all."

"Your guess is as good as mine, Mr. Lupin. About three months ago she showed up at my door, paid her last rent in full and turned in her key." The elderly woman shook her head. "I wouldn't have thought anything about it I hadn't been watching her and seen the taxi."

"What's so unusual about a taxicab?" Remus asked, bewildered.

"'Tweren't any wizard taxicab, Mr. Lupin," Mrs. Dean said earnestly. She lowered her voice and said, "It was one of them Muggle taxis. Strangest thing I ever saw in my life, coo! Filthy dirty and small—I never saw a wizard car so squashed on the inside. Anyway, I know it was a Muggle taxi because the driver was about as thick as a toadstool, carrying Ani's boxes in by hand, Ani not raising a wand to help. I watched as she gave him directions and then, next thing I knew, they were gone." She sighed sympathetically at Remus' blank, stunned expression and patted his arm. "I'm sure she's not far away, Mr. Lupin… perhaps you ought to call her people or St. Mungo's, see if they know where she's gone. I wish I could have been more help to you."

"No," Remus heard himself say, "no, you've been quite helpful. And yes, I think I'll speak with Ani's family." He put out his hand and shook hers, barely knowing what he did. "Thank you very much, Mrs. Dean. Might I use your Floo?"

"Of course, dear."

Heart pounding, hands shaking, Remus followed her into her flat, which smelled of ammonia and cats. She held out a tiny purple jar and removed the lid. Remus took a pinch and set a fire in the grate with his wand. Without another word he tossed the powder into the flames, which turned bright green and leapt into the air. He stepped into them and said dully, "21 Smythwick Circle."

With a whirl and a roar, he was gone. The daisy fell lifelessly into the ashes of the fireplace.

---

Remus felt certain he was going to be sick.

"I wish I knew what to tell you, lad." Bearded, white-haired Cephas Hellsing carefully set his teacup down on the table. "Her mother's nearly sick with worry, and poor Ghost is beside himself…" He looked at the peg on the other side of the kitchen where Ani's old, yet still handsome, barn owl sat perched, quietly dozing. "When she sent him to us she told me to make sure he stayed here; he misses her greatly."

"She didn't even hint as to where she was going?" Remus tried desperately, clutching the parchment with the green ink in his hand. "You're her father, you must know something. I understand if she asked you not to tell me, but this is important."

But Ani's father shook his head. "I'd tell you if I knew. All I've got is the letter she sent—and I've shown you that," he said wearily. "She just said she was leaving, that she would try to stay in touch, and not to worry."

He tried again. "But what about her job?" Remus asked. "Ani's always wanted to work at St. Mungo's; she's their top resident. Surely she just wouldn't leave?"

"I thought that too," Mr. Hellsing answered. "I even went down there one day, talked to the chief of staff. Apparently she handed in her notice, wrapped up whatever cases she'd been seeing to, and left. At first I thought maybe she would have transferred to another location, one of the smaller country hospitals… but nothing."

He sighed and suddenly seemed very, very old. "I knew that losing Lily and James would be hard for her, but I had no idea it would come to this," remarked Mr. Hellsing quietly. "But between that and what he did to her… I suppose I should have seen it coming." He shook his head darkly and leveled a serious look with Remus. "And, you'll forgive me for saying so, but I know that she took it hard when you left too, Remus."

Sick, hot shame filled his stomach as Mr. Hellsing went on. "She thinks the world of you, Ani does… I went to visit her a few days after Lily and James' funeral and she just looked like someone lost. It breaks a father's heart to see his daughter that way." He traced one long finger around the rim of his teacup. "I only wish I knew where she'd gone to," he finished sadly.

Remus stood, his knees shaking slightly, Mr. Hellsing following suit. "Thank you," he said automatically, sticking out a hand to shake. "You'll let me know if you hear anything, won't you?"

"Of course, Remus," Mr. Hellsing said, clapping a hand on the younger man's shoulder. "Come by some other time when Cassie's home… I'm sure she'd love to see you."

"I'll do that," Remus lied.

As he bid Mr. Hellsing goodbye a few minutes later, the nausea still had not left Remus' body. He climbed into the Floo and spoke his address wearily. When he arrived at home he stumbled through the flat, collapsing on the dilapidated couch that sat in the middle of the bare room. He threw an arm over his eyes, forced himself to take slow, calming breaths. He could not believe this.

Ani—Ani, his only friend left in the world—was gone. She was gone. Guilt threatened to choke him. It was his fault! It was all his fault!

"I walked out on her," he said aloud to the blank walls. "I left her when she needed me most. And now… now that I need her… she's gone too."

A howl of misery clawed at his throat and for the first time in many months, Remus broke down and bitterly wept.