TITLE: Empty Canvas

AUTHOR: Willidan

PAIRING: RL/AD

RATING: PG

FEEDBACK: [email protected]

DISCLAIMER: I am not JKR and have no affiliation with anyone else who thinks they own a part of Harry Potter. I receive nothing from writing this except a little tingly feeling at the tips of my ears.

SUMMARY: Remus becomes addicted to a very strong sleeping potion and goes missing; a concerned Albus Dumbledore finds him and helps him recover from his addiction. Also includes a few critical scenes from throughout their relationship.

NOTES: Part of 'Howling At The Moon: The Remus J. Lupin Fuh-Q-Fest' 4.) After the deaths of Peter, James, and Lily, and Sirius's arrest, Remus sought comfort in the arms of someone very unexpected.5.) Who says that romantic relationships between a teacher and a student are wrong? Not Remus J. Lupin, that's for sure! 38.) After a lifetime of pain and anguish, Remus turns to drugs as a means of escape. After a near-fatal overdose, someone decides to step in and take matters into their own hands. (Els-chan) Many thanks to Rowan Payne, my patient beta, who provided wonderful feedback and bashed me over the head when she noticed several stupid mistakes I left in.

SPOILERS: Spoilers for book 5: Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix

ARCHIVING: 'Howling At The Moon: The Remus J. Lupin Fuh-Q-Fest'. Just ask after the fest is concluded.

Remus waited patiently in line at the apothecary. He should have known better than to come to Diagon Alley at this time of the year. It never failed but that the entire student body of Hogwarts crowded the streets three days before term started, irritating the regular patrons and making movement difficult. Remus gave a grimaced smile to the young lady who blushed and stammered an apology after stomping on his foot. He nodded and moved forward in the queue. His thoughts turned to the potion he was planning to make. For such a closely regulated potion it was appallingly easy to make. Most of the ingredients came ready to use, and the potion itself was listed in his seventh year textbook. All he had to do was visit a few different apothecaries around England and no one would know he was making it. It was almost too easy. He had been no genius when it came to potions, he would certainly never be a master, but it was easy enough to make a potion if you paid attention. The opportunity to attend Hogwarts had been a tremendous gift, and he had repaid the Headmaster by doing his very best in every subject. He shifted uneasily as his thoughts turned to Dumbledore, who would undoubtedly frown upon his actions. Remus hated to let him down, but this was something he needed to do. He had served Dumbledore faithfully; they all had. Or so he had thought. Thoughts of Sirius' - Black's - betrayal stiffened his resolve again.

He paid for his purchases, made small talk with the shopkeeper, and stepped around the milling students to reach the door. Wishing for a cloudy day, he squinted up at the mid-morning sun. He grimaced at the happy crowds, still celebrating the fall of Voldemort almost a year later. Remus made his way home to his small flat, a few blocks from Diagon Alley in Muggle London. He had moved here last winter, after�well, after. It was dark here. He liked it dark. In the dark he didn't have to worry over a new wrinkle lining his forehead, or the strand of gray hair that had appeared after the last full moon. In the dark he didn't have to notice that he was alone. He set to work creating his potion. 'Idle hands are the devil's play ground' his mother had always said. It was her favorite excuse for making her half human son do all of the chores around the house and in the garden. His father had never needed an excuse. Remus carefully emptied his mind of thoughts and turned his attention instead to the potion he was making. The familiar motions calmed him. Twenty minutes later he added the last ingredient and set the flame to simmer for a few hours. He could wait a few hours, but promised himself that he would never let his supplies get that low again. He sat quietly in the dark living room, leaving his mind carefully blank until the potion simmering in the other room was finished brewing so he could truly forget.

"I would never bother you sir, but you did refer him. He's been very reliable, except for the last few weeks when he was late a few days, but he was always willing to stay late, and even take extra shifts if we needed him to."

Albus Dumbledore knelt in front of the hearth in his office and smiled at the face within. "It's quite alright, I don't mind the interruption."

"He hasn't been in since last Friday, and we tried to contact him at the address he gave us when he started," the man continued, somewhat agitated, "but he's moved since then and we have no idea how to contact him; even the owls we've sent can't seem to find him. He's such a good worker. We hate to lose him, and we're a bit worried that something's happened to him. I know the dark times are over, but accidents do still happen, and..."

Dumbledore held a hand up to stall the flow of words. "It's quite all right, Quincy, I assure you I don't mind in the least, and I'm grateful you saw fit to contact me." Dumbledore smiled as Quincy visibly relaxed. "I will find Mr. Lupin and let you know what's happened. Let us hope that it's nothing serious."

"Thank you, Albus." Quincy nodded and disappeared as the flames in the fireplace returned to their normal hue.

Dumbledore rose to his feet and moved to his desk, his brow furrowed in concern. He had kept a close eye on Remus over the past year, but the boy - man, Dumbledore reminded himself firmly - had seemed well. A bit depressed, of course, but by no means suicidal as he had feared would be the case. Sighing deeply, he sat in his desk chair. He was not aware that Remus had moved either. He had placed careful wards around Remus' previous flat, which were still in place, and made a note to check who had moved in since and remove the wards. He had also placed a tracking charm on the man himself. It would alert him if he were in any immediate danger. No alarm had been sounded, and no reports of werewolf attacks had reached him. Dumbledore grimaced as his thoughts immediately turned to that aspect of Remus. He hated to think that he could be lumped into the mindless prejudice about werewolves that so many others exhibited. He knew Remus quite well he liked to think. Remus was quick-witted and extremely intelligent, and was also loyal to a fault, often refusing to see anything but positive things in others until it was too late. It was this trait that concerned Dumbledore so much. He feared that Remus would blame himself for missing the darkness in Sirius Black.

Dumbledore sat back and concentrated on the tracking charm he had placed on Remus.

Remus groaned and pulled a pillow over his head. It couldn't possibly be morning already. He felt like he had just taken the potion a few hours ago, but the bright sun filling the room seemed to contradict this belief. That thought seemed to penetrate the fuzziness in his brain; the sun was never this bright in his flat. Remus moved the pillow over his head away slightly and blinked tears away as the light assaulted his eyes. He pushed the pillow away completely and sat up, promptly collapsing back again as a wave of dizziness, accompanied by rolling nausea, hit him. He grit his teeth and breathed carefully through his nose until his stomach settled. A hand gripped his shoulder firmly and he opened his eyes enough to see a hand holding a goblet in front of him. He focused on the face behind the hand, recognized the beard, closed his eyes again and reached for the goblet. The hand gripping his shoulder pulled him up enough so that he could drink without choking. He swallowed the Pepper-Up Potion gratefully and lay back down, waiting for the potion to take affect. A few minutes later he opened his eyes again, grateful when the room didn't begin swimming again, and focused on Dumbledore's solemn gaze.

"Where am I?" Remus grimaced at the hoarseness of his voice. He cleared his throat. "How did I get here?"

"What is the last thing you remember?" Dumbledore asked.

Remus frowned at the question and sat up, pushing himself back to rest against the headboard. "I�the last thing I remember�I guess when I got home Friday night from work."

"Do you remember anything else?" Dumbledore's voice was disturbingly calm.

"I-I�" Remus swallowed. "I took a potion. To help me sleep." He looked away, looking around at the unfamiliar room. The windows let in too much sun and he turned his eyes away.

"Which potion did you take, Remus?"

He frowned at Dumbledore's voice. "Would you just tell me where I am? I have errands to run."

Dumbledore sighed and leaned forward slightly in his chair near the bed. "Do you know what day it is, Remus?"

Remus laughed lightly, trying to hide his confusion at the question. "It's Saturday." He glanced at Dumbledore, who continued to stare at him. "Is it Sunday?" He laughed again. "I used to be afraid that I would oversleep and miss a day sometimes. Did it actually happen?"

"It's Thursday, Remus."

Remus blinked. "Of course it's not. I couldn't possibly..."

"How much potion did you take?" Dumbledore interrupted.

"I-I don't know. I took some when I got home, and then�." Remus' voice trailed off in resignation.

"Then what, Remus?" Dumbledore's voice cut through Remus' painful introspection

"I woke up again, so I took some more." Remus buried his face in his hands. He looked up, horrified. "I don't remember how much I took." He bit his lip and looked away. "I'm always so careful." He glanced cautiously at Dumbledore and cringed at the worry etched on his face. "I've never done this before. I'm always careful. I always know exactly how much I've taken and when I took some last. Please believe me. I never meant for this to happen." Remus broke off suddenly, painfully aware of his desperate rambling.

"How long have you been taking it?" Dumbledore asked.

Remus' brow furrowed in concentration. "I guess�it's still September, isn't it?" He grimaced as the quip fell woefully short of his intention. He plucked helplessly at the comforter lying over him. "Since last spring." Dumbledore gasped and Remus glanced up briefly before turning his gaze back to the comforter. He remembered, uneasily, that Voldemort had always been afraid of him.

"Do you understand what you've done to yourself?" Dumbledore's voice was harsh, full of anger and confusion. "Did you take it consistently?"

Remus shook his head and refused to look at Dumbledore. "Not at first. Just a few times during the spring. But�. And then during the summer I took it on the weekends. And then later a few times a week."

"When did you begin taking it every day?"

"August," Remus whispered.

"There is a reason this potion is closely monitored," Dumbledore said. "You see for yourself how easy it is to become dependent on it." Remus nodded. "I'm sorry to tell you that your ordeal with the Draught of Living Death is not over yet." Remus looked up. "Your body has become dependent on it. You won't be able to sleep without it for some time to come."

"But, I have to work. I've missed so much�."

"I'm afraid you've lost your job, Remus," Dumbledore said abruptly. "I've had to report your dependence on the Draught. I've kept it as quiet as possible," Dumbledore continued at Remus' look of horror. "But I had to inform your employer as well as certain ministry officials. The usual sanctions have been applied, but I was able to keep you out of St. Mungo's with the understanding that you would remain here until you are deemed free of the Draught."

"What are the usual sanctions?" Remus asked.

"You will not be allowed to brew potions again. Indeed, you will not be able to enter any ministry-sanctioned apothecaries in Great Britain. You have lost your job and your addiction to Draught of Living Death will be recorded in your file with the ministry." Dumbledore recited these facts in a straightforward manner, watching Remus carefully.

Remus felt pole axed. He would not miss brewing potions; it had only ever been an expedient way of obtaining the Draught. But the loss of his job and the inclusion of his addiction on his permanent record hurt sorely, mostly because Dumbledore had helped him acquire this job. It was difficult enough to find a job without having a blemish such as this on his record. He gnawed on his lip and met Dumbledore's eyes.

"If today is Thursday then the full moon is next Monday. I suppose I'll be going to the shack, as usual?"

Dumbledore looked away, uncomfortable for the first time. "I'm afraid that won't be possible. By Monday you will be deep in withdrawal from the potion. It is uncertain what the effects will be on your wolf form and I cannot allow you to be in such a place alone."

"So what's the alternative?" Remus asked.

"I am very sorry, Remus," Dumbledore turned back to him. The uncertainty and embarrassment in his eyes made Remus' heart sink to the pit of his stomach. "I will have to conjure a cage for you, set with some very strong wards, to keep you in throughout the change."

"You're putting in a cage?" Remus whispered, scarcely able to believe his ears.

"My dear boy, I am sorry, but it is the only way," Dumbledore rushed to reassure him. "I cannot allow you to stay at the Shrieking Shack on your own, and I cannot stay with you, nor can I allow anyone else to stay with you. You must be kept someplace where I can keep an eye on you and this is the only solution available."

Remus blinked away the tears forming in his eyes. He knew that it was the only way. He understood what Dumbledore was telling him was the truth. But the thought of being locked in a cage while Dumbledore watched�. There were too many painful memories rising to the surface. He wanted nothing more than to lose himself to mindless sleep. But even that had been taken from him now. He lowered himself back to the pillows and stared blindly at the shocking purple canopy. He heard Dumbledore rise to his feet and turned to watch him leave the room. Remus hadn't seen the man look this dejected since he had brought Remus the news that Sirius had betrayed James and Lily before killing Peter. He turned onto his side and stared forlornly at the sunlight streaming through the sheer curtains.

The days right before the full moon were always painful for Remus. His temper shortened, but he could usually control it by burning off the burst of energy he seemed to get around then, too. His appetite was generally stronger, and he craved meat more than usual, often eating only meat for a meal or two in the days before the full moon.

This time it was wholly different.

Unable to sleep for more than a few minutes at a time, Remus' temper was shot. Dumbledore had confiscated his wand sometime during the second day, so at least he hadn't been able to hex the man who refused to let him out of his guestroom. He constantly paced the perimeter of the room, his hands twisted in his robes, occasionally reaching out to brush against the wall or the bookshelves nearby. Dumbledore had provided books on every subject, save potions, but nothing seemed to spark his interest. Having spent most of the last year in the dark, he was drawn to the windows and the view of the grounds beyond. He stood there, eyes closed, and basked in the warmth of the sun, wanting nothing more than to be outside. He had tried opening the windows, had even tried breaking them, but they refused to budge. He opened his eyes and stepped up to the windows leaning his forehead on the warm glass, gazing down at the students enjoying the last of the summer sun. It was nearly October and it was rare for such a warm, sunny day to occur this late in the year in Scotland. He watched the students throw bits of bread to the Giant Squid, heard them laughing even from this high up, and hit the window, wincing at the pain that shot up his arm.

"I daresay that taking your frustration out on the window will only injure your hand."

Remus turned and glared at Dumbledore who gazed calmly back at him while waving his wand at a tea set hovering in front of him. Dumbledore stood waiting patiently for Remus to join him at the tea table he had conjured in front of the fireplace. He threw himself into the chair opposite and crossed his arms and legs.

"Your pout is very unbecoming, Remus." Dumbledore poured the tea, waiting patiently for Remus to tell him how he took it, and set a plate of biscuits and cakes in front of him. Remus transferred his glare to the plate of sweets. "You should eat something; you'll need your strength later."

Remus turned his glare to the fire burning merrily in the hearth. "I'm not hungry."

"Nonsense," Dumbledore remarked. "Of course you are." Remus grit his teeth to keep from lashing out at the cheerful man. "But of course, you'd rather not have something sweet now, would you?" Dumbledore knelt in front of the fire and gave a new order to the house elves. He reclaimed his chair and sat twinkling merrily at Remus, who had the sudden urge to grab the fork by his plate and stab it into those blue eyes. Judging from the gleam in said eyes, Dumbledore knew exactly how Remus was feeling. With a crack, a house elf appeared beside the table. Dumbledore thanked him politely and traded Remus' plate of cookies for a plate of rare steak and bacon. Remus' stomach growled at the scent.

"Bacon and steak?" he asked in an attempt to keep from devouring the meat on his plate.

"I thought you might like some variety. It was the best I could come up with," Dumbledore replied. "Eat up now." Dumbledore helped himself to more tea and slid Remus' cakes onto his own plate.

Remus gave up all pretense of acting like a civilized human being and cut into the steak with gusto. He was aware of Dumbledore's scrutiny, but ignored it as best he could in favor of eating as quickly as possible without choking. He finished quickly and sat back with a sigh before finally meeting Dumbledore's eyes.

"Where is my cage going to be tonight?" Remus asked.

"I will transfigure your bed into a cage." Dumbledore looked at the piece of furniture in question briefly. "I am more sorry than I can say that it must be this way."

"I know," Remus interrupted. "You've said already how sorry you are. It doesn't change anything."

"No, it doesn't." Dumbledore cut into a cake. "Are you certain that you do not want any of these cakes? They're quite tasty."

Remus shook his head and swallowed the snarl that sprang to his lips. Dumbledore sat back and smoothed his beard down over his chest. "Well now, I have noticed that you haven't done much reading of the books I've provided. Is there anything in particular that you would like me to bring for you to read?"

Remus appeared to consider the question. "Hm, how about Potions Quarterly?"

Dumbledore stared back at him. "How about Quidditch Weekly, instead? Or perhaps the new charms primer that Professor Flitwick recently had published? I seem to recall that you did quite well in charms."

Remus flushed slightly and looked away. "I'm sorry. Maybe Flitwick's - Professor Flitwick's - book."

"No need to apologize, my boy," Dumbledore remarked, his cheerfulness returning, causing Remus' ire to rise again. "I'm sure that Professor Flitwick would be more than happy to have your comments on his book. Perhaps you'd like to help me with a bit of research as well?"

Remus nodded and kept his gaze on the empty plate in front of him.

"What would you like for dinner? I don't believe that the moon rises until after nine tonight."

"I-I�whatever you want to bring will be fine."

"Well then, how about another large, rare steak?"

Remus met Dumbledore's gaze and grinned sheepishly. "Thank you. And I really am sorry."

Dumbledore smiled. "My dear boy, there is no need for you to apologize. And if you persist in doing so I will be sorely vexed."

Remus laughed lightly and felt slightly better.

Halloween came. Remus grimaced at the muffled shouts of laughter from the hallways below. Halloween: the time for pranks, and laughter, and feasting. The time when his world had been virtually destroyed. This time last year he could rest in the knowledge that his friends were safe, that their child would grow up in a loving family. That he could be a part of that family. He could recover from the recent full moon and not worry about them.

Remus rubbed his forehead against the cool glass and stared out over the lake where the waning moon was spreading its light across the surface. He was alone tonight, as he had been all day. Dumbledore would come by after the feast, make sure he had eaten and then put him into an enchanted sleep for a few hours. He had not slept in several days, asking Dumbledore to wait until tonight so that the memories wouldn't overwhelm him. He glanced behind him at the miniature feast spread across the table in front of the fire, but he wasn't hungry, hadn't been hungry for weeks. He had forced food into his mouth when Dumbledore stood over him while waiting for the moon to rise a few days ago. He remembered the rush of hunger overwhelming him as he felt the pull of it. He also remembered Dumbledore watching him disrobe before locking him in the transfigured cage. There was a vague memory of smelling him, hearing his voice, and wanting nothing more than to attack him, wishing for his wand so that he could get out of the cage. And then nothing more until morning and Dumbledore gently cleaning and healing his wounds before tucking him into the retransfigured bed. He walked over to the table, grimacing at the smell of the food there. Early in his imprisonment he had tried hiding the food, he had even tried throwing the food into the fire. But Dumbledore was always able to tell when he had eaten or not and had simply turned a stern eye on him and summoned more food from the kitchens. Even Remus' favorite foods could not tempt him anymore. He looked up sharply at the sound of a door opening and closing in the room beyond. He turned back to the table and quickly piled bread and some vegetables on his plate, sneering briefly at the different types of meat offered; he usually had little appetite for meat directly after the full moon, something he had expected Dumbledore to know.

Voices came to him from outside. Remus frowned and crept to the door. He had often tried the door, but it was always unwilling to open at his touch. He pressed his ear to the door and listened carefully. He recognized the voices, certain that McGonagall was out there, and another voice that seemed familiar that he could not quite place. He couldn't make out what they were saying, but McGonagall sounded a bit upset. But then she usually did sound upset. This was the first time he was aware of Dumbledore allowing anyone into his rooms since Remus had been brought here. Perhaps the wards had weakened a bit. He tried the door, but it didn't budge.

He sighed and returned to the table. If he didn't eat something Dumbledore would only sit and stare at him until he did. He'd done it before and Remus wanted to sleep tonight, needed to be put to sleep tonight of all nights. He grimaced and shoved a forkful of lettuce into his mouth; he chewed stolidly and swallowed with some difficulty. Nausea roiled up in him and he lurched away from the table, vomiting violently onto the hearth. He gasped and clutched his stomach as dry heaves continued to rack his body. Cool hands stroked his brow before wrapping around his shoulders and pulling him upright. He was dimly aware of a potion being poured down his throat and shuddered as it warred briefly with his stomach, before it quelled the nausea completely. He leaned back into the body still kneeling behind him.

"Feeling better?"

Remus nodded shakily and pushed himself away, only to fall forward onto the hearth; narrowly missing the puddle of vomit. Dumbledore twitched his wand at the mess and Remus grimaced as it disappeared. He groaned as he was grasped firmly and helped back into his chair, wrinkling his brow at the food still laid out before him. Dumbledore waved his wand again and most of the food disappeared, only a dinner roll and a bowl of thin soup remaining. He stared at Dumbledore, who stared calmly back at him and lifted the spoon.

Twenty minutes later, after finishing the soup, the roll, and the cookies that Dumbledore had slid his way, Remus sat back and swallowed against the bile that was attempting to rise again. Dumbledore waited patiently and quietly.

"Why can't you use the Enchanted Sleep charm more often?" Remus asked the question that had plagued him for the past month.

"Surely you must realize that would simply allow you to become dependent on a charm rather than a potion for sleep," Dumbledore answered. "Your body must learn to sleep on its own again."

Remus nodded. He had realized that, of course, but he had wanted to hear Dumbledore say it.

"I heard voices earlier," Remus said cautiously. "I recognized Professor McGonagall, but who was the other one?"

"An old school mate of yours," Dumbledore answered just as carefully. "Severus Snape returned earlier this year as Potions Master."

Remus masked any hint of emotion he may have felt at that news. He felt Dumbledore's gaze on him but stubbornly refused to acknowledge it, nodding instead. "I'd like to sleep now. Would you mind performing the charm?"

He heard Dumbledore sigh and rose from his chair, still refusing to look at him. He moved toward the bed but stopped when Dumbledore placed a hand on his arm. "Perhaps it would be better if we talked for a while before you fell asleep."

Remus pulled his arm from Dumbledore's grasp and shook his head. "I can't. Not tonight. Please, just put me to sleep."

Dumbledore rested a hand on his back a moment before stepping away. Remus relaxed slightly and crawled into bed. Dumbledore sat beside him, surprising Remus. He had never done that before, only ever casting the charm from the foot of the bed.

Dumbledore brushed his fingertips across Remus' forehead. "My dear boy, I am sorry for the pain you feel. I would give anything to be able to take it away forever. I will see you tomorrow afternoon. And perhaps we can talk for a while."

Remus closed his eyes and turned his face away, listening for the murmured words that would end the restless images fighting for dominance in his mind.

Remus awoke the next afternoon completely relaxed and at peace. A cold rain lashed against the windowpanes and Remus snuggled deeper into the warm cocoon of blankets and pillows that surrounded him. Memory returned in a rush as a throat gently cleared itself from nearby. Dumbledore wanted to talk. He rolled over and sat up to face the other man sitting in the chair nearby.

"I trust your rest was peaceful." Dumbledore waved a tray of tea and biscuits over to rest on Remus' lap. Remus glared at the tray for a moment. "Just eat as much as you can, but do try and drink the tea."

Remus sighed and took a sip of the scalding tea before beginning to eat the cookies on the tray. They were surprisingly unsweet, considering who had delivered them. And they did not set his stomach to rolling, like so much of the food pushed on him had been doing lately.

"Now," Dumbledore began after watching Remus eat a few cookies and finish his first cup of tea, "can you tell me how you've felt lately?"

Remus nibbled on another cookie while he considered the question. "Mostly I feel frustrated, angry. Trapped."

"You have no appetite to speak of," Dumbledore remarked.

Remus shook his head. "It's not so much that I don't have an appetite, it's just that I can't eat. The thought of food makes me hungry, but when it actually comes to eating�."

Dumbledore nodded. "You feel trapped." He waited for Remus' nod. "Do you feel resentful of me, or anyone else?"

Remus thought for a moment then shook his head. "No, it's more that�I don't resent you keeping me here. I'm grateful. You've done so much. I know it's for my own good. It's just that�I don't�it's hard being here. It's too bright. Too happy. I see the children outside, and I hear them laughing and�they shouldn't be. Why should they be happy?" Remus blinked at the anger in his voice.

"You're angry," Dumbledore said unnecessarily.

Remus nodded. "No, I'm not. But I am," he growled. He scrubbed his face with his hands and set the tea tray aside. "I don't know."

Dumbledore nodded as if every question he had asked had just been answered to his satisfaction. "And how do you feel emotionally?"

Remus smiled sadly. "Tired. I'm tired of thinking. Of remembering. It's why I started taking the Draught so often." He blushed and looked away. "I just want to forget everything."

"Do you want to live?" Dumbledore asked.

Remus shrugged, "Sometimes." He looked out the window at the rain swept grounds. "But then I remember how much�." He trailed off miserably. "You've done so much for me. Gave me more opportunities then I deserved. And Lily and James. And Harry. They never got a chance to see him grow up. They�they let me be a part of their family. I owe it to them to be there when Harry needs someone."

"And he will need someone, Remus." Dumbledore shifted to sit beside him on the bed, resting a hand on his shoulder. "There is much he needs to learn, and there are few that he will be able to turn to. You know as well as I do that Voldemort will return and his first focus will be to destroy Harry." He watched as Remus bit his lip and nodded. "Who are you angry at?"

Remus leaned toward Dumbledore slightly. "Myself," he whispered. Then his voice hardened. "And Sirius."

"Why are you angry with yourself?"

"I should have known. I should have seen what he was," Remus continued harshly. "He stole everything from me. Everything I always wanted and was afraid that I would never have."

Remus panted in frustration a few moments, striving to ease the rage out of him. He caught his breath eventually and leaned back to look into Dumbledore's face. "Why didn't you see what he was?"

Dumbledore looked taken aback at the question, but Remus continued before he could answer. "He tried to kill Snape when we were children. He used me as the weapon. Why didn't you see what he was? Why did you let him protect James and Lily and Harry?"

"My dear boy," Dumbledore laid a hand on Remus' check, but pulled it away when Remus flinched at the touch. "I wanted to be their secret keeper. I offered and they refused. I wish that I had forced the issue. I wish that I could go back and change my actions, but what's done is done and all we can do is go forward from here."

Remus stared at the lined face, read the pain that still lingered in his eyes a year later, and felt his own eyes fill with tears. He moved willingly into the arms that closed around him and buried his face in the scratchy beard, nuzzling into Dumbledore's neck. Dumbledore held him while he cried out all of the pain and heartbreak that he had allowed to rule him over the past year. He was certain that he felt tears against his neck as well.

Christmas came, as it did every year. Since All Hallows' Day Dumbledore had allowed Remus into his sitting room, and occasionally into his office and library when he was there. Dumbledore had given him a task and Remus basked in the knowledge that Dumbledore trusted him to help him conduct his research. He was not allowed his wand, and he was still confined to a cage during the full moon, but his frustration at being forced to remain here had eased in his limited freedom. He still couldn't sleep for long periods, and Dumbledore still placed him in an enchanted sleep when his temper reached the breaking point, but this was coming less and less frequent as his body reacquainted itself with the normal cycle of work and rest. Occasionally Dumbledore would join him for dinner and they would talk about anything and everything. Those were the times that Remus waited for. Those and the times when Dumbledore would wake him from an enchanted sleep with a tea tray and a smile.

Remus spent most of Christmas day alone. He had awoken that morning to a small pile of presents at the foot of his bed. One from Dumbledore: a bag of sweets and a book on magical creatures that made him smile; a small box of ginger newts from Professor McGonagall, which surprised him; and a long thin package which Remus opened cautiously. Tears sprang to his eyes as his wand fell into his hands. He grinned and swished it through the air experimentally, levitating the bedside table and transfiguring a vase of flowers.

Remus dressed carefully for the day. He knew that Dumbledore would have to spend Christmas dinner in the hall for the professors remaining, as well as for the few children who didn't have a home to go to for the festive season. Remus spared a brief thought for the orphans of the war, and sent a special wish for a happy Christmas for Harry.

Remus smoothed his hands down the front of his jumper and inspected himself in the mirror in the corner. He grimaced at what he saw: he was too thin, had too much gray hair for his age, and too many wrinkles around his eyes. He sighed and turned away from the mirror, retrieved the book Dumbledore had given him and moved toward the chair by the hearth. His eyes fell on his wand lying on the table where he had left it as he dressed. His eyes strayed to the door. He grabbed his wand and left the bedroom. The sitting room had been decorated earlier that month for Christmas. It was a bit overdone in Remus' opinion, but no one could deny that Dumbledore loved the holidays.

He surveyed the room, searching for any hint of an observation device. Finding none, he lifted his wand and searched again. Remus gave a little sigh of relief and moved toward the door. He laid his palm flat on the wooden surface, listening for any sound from the office beyond and then surveyed the door with his wand. The wards set in place were strong and set against him, but Remus had overcome such difficulties in the past. He had to at least try.

Dumbledore hummed as he rode the staircase to his office. It had been a lovely Christmas feast. He had been a bit worried as to how Minerva and Severus would interact, but had been pleasantly surprised when they were quite courteous to each other. Perhaps Minerva was finally opening up to the young man. And the students who remained had been a bit intimidated at first at the thought of dining with their Professors, but he believed a good time had been had by all.

His gaze turned immediately to the door that led to his private quarters as he entered the room. He sighed as he realized that Remus had tried to get past the wards. The boy had done very well in his Defense courses, and had been a reliable member of the Order, smart and powerful, but he had not been able to get past the wards that Dumbledore had set over the rooms. He had hoped that giving his wand back would help him, calm him a bit at least, but the attempt to get out of his private rooms worried him and he braced himself for what he would find on the other side.

He pushed the door open and stopped abruptly, staring around him in disbelief. The furnishings themselves were intact, though most were overturned and the cushions and pillows had been attacked most viciously. The Christmas decorations that he had so enjoyed putting up a few weeks ago were heaped in a corner, broken and tangled together. Dumbledore glanced around and spied Remus curled up against the wall near the door to the guest room. His face was turned toward the wall, but Dumbledore could see scratches that were still bleeding slightly. He waved his wand and everything went back to as it had been before he moved toward the shivering man on the floor.

"Remus?"

Remus shifted slightly but refused to look at Dumbledore.

"Come now, Remus," Dumbledore laid a hand on Remus' shoulder. "I thought we'd have Christmas tea, if you're hungry."

Remus shook his head, but still wouldn't turn to Dumbledore. "Remus, it's quite alright. No harm has been done." When Remus didn't respond, Dumbledore sighed and rose to his feet. He turned toward the fireplace, called the kitchen and ordered a large Christmas tea. He was fairly certain that Remus hadn't eaten yet; he only hoped that this setback would be a minor one. He wandered about the room, adjusting things here and there and kept up a mindless chatter about the students who had stayed for the Christmas holidays. He watched out of the corner of his eye as Remus relaxed slightly and turned his head a bit to hear Dumbledore clearly.

The tea arrived and he set it up on the low table in front of the sofa. He turned to Remus. "Come along, Remus. The tea is here and I'm sure you must be hungry." Remus didn't move and Dumbledore felt his frustration rise. "Now that is enough, Mr. Lupin." Remus jumped at the harsh tone. He turned his head slowly to face Dumbledore. He sighed as he caught sight of Remus' face and held out his hand. Relief washed through him as Remus grasped his hand and allowed himself to be pulled to his feet. "Now, let us have a nice Christmas tea." Dumbledore waved his wand and healed the scratches on Remus' arms and face before he led him to the sofa. Dumbledore perched beside him and poured the tea, resuming his mindless chatter to fill the silence.

"I'm sorry," Remus whispered when Dumbledore paused to sip his cooled tea.

"I am growing quite tired of your apologizes, Remus," Dumbledore remarked. "I have told you that I do not blame you for what you've done, and I shan't condemn you for what you do here." Dumbledore smiled suddenly. "Though I am happy to see that you are still able to use your wand to great effect."

Remus stared a moment before he burst into uncontrolled laughter. Dumbledore laughed with him, until he noticed that the younger man had begun crying, as well. Dumbledore pulled him gently into his arms, pushing his head down to his chest where Remus snuggled into his beard, a position that was becoming quite familiar. He smoothed his hands down Remus' back and wrapped his arms firmly around the trembling man. He knew setbacks like these happened, and would continue to happen. But he took comfort in the thought that Remus was much improved. His temper was better, and he no longer chaffed at the thought of staying in his rooms, though judging from today's actions, if given the opportunity, Remus would try and get out. It must be terrible to be so confined. Dumbledore rested his cheek against the graying hair and hugged Remus a bit closer. He wouldn't fail this boy, as he had failed so many others.

Remus shifted closer to Dumbledore, relaxing in the warm embrace. He always felt safe with Dumbledore. He loved feeling the wiry arms wrap around him, loved to inhale the power and affection that radiated from him. He even liked feeling the long beard scratch against his face. He turned his face slightly and pressed a gentle kiss against the pulse beating in Dumbledore's neck. He closed his eyes and sighed deeply, wrapping his own arms around Dumbledore's waist. Then froze as he realized what he had just done. Dumbledore was unnaturally still beside him and he pulled away slowly. He bit his lip and lifted his gaze to Dumbledore's.

Dumbledore gazed back at him calmly, a hint of pity shining in his eyes. "Remus�."

"Don't," Remus hissed. He rose shakily to his feet. "I'm sorry. I don't�. I'm just one big disappointment after another, aren't I?" he laughed shakily.

"Of course, not," Dumbledore stood beside Remus and stretched his hand toward him. Remus jerked away and Dumbledore let his hand drop back to his side. "Remus, please sit down." Dumbledore frowned when Remus chose a chair adjacent to the sofa rather than the sofa itself. "I am flattered, my dear boy�." Dumbledore paused as Remus groaned helplessly and covered his face with his hands, "But I fear that the situation may be misconstrued."

Remus chuckled. Dumbledore knelt beside his chair and pulled Remus' hands away from his face. "Remus, you must understand. I am caring for you during a very vulnerable time in your life. It would not be proper for any sort of intimate relationship to exist between us."

"Do you think I care about that?" Remus gazed intently into Dumbledore's eyes. He shifted to the floor and knelt beside Dumbledore. "I'm a werewolf. In addition to that I'm a drug addict. Do you really think I care what people think? I'm not.... If it's a matter of your position in society...well, no one has to know. Right? We don't... Please, I just need..." He looked away and wished the tears in his eyes would go away.

Dumbledore released his hands and grasped his shoulders. "Remus, it is not myself that I am thinking of, but you. You are so young; you have your entire life ahead of you. And I am a foolish old man. You should choose a much more worthy target for your affections."

Remus sobbed tiredly and fell to the floor. "I'm so tired. I'm tired of being alone." He looked into Dumbledore's eyes. "Please. Don't push me away."

Dumbledore sighed and sat beside Remus, pulling him into his arms again. He rubbed circles into Remus' back, crooning softly into his ear, as he sobbed tiredly in his arms. Remus eventually quieted and became still in his embrace. Dumbledore shifted the man and smiled as he realized that Remus had fallen asleep. He shifted Remus again and levitated him to the guest room, settling in a chair near the bed with a cup of tea and a book, watching him sleep deeply and naturally for the first time in months.

Dumbledore woke the next morning at a gentle prod on his shoulder. He stretched, wincing as his neck and back popped painfully. He looked up and found Remus hovering anxiously over him.

"You shouldn't sleep in chairs, Albus," Remus teased. "It can't be good for you."

Dumbledore chuckled. "No, I daresay it is not." He glanced around, frowning slightly at the sunlight streaming in the windows.

Remus followed his gaze. "It's about 7:00." He turned and smiled at Dumbledore. "I slept all night. I haven't done that without a potion or a spell for over a year."

Dumbledore returned the smile. "I'm very happy to hear that, my dear boy."

Remus' _expression sobered as he sat carefully on the edge of the bed. "I'm sorry about yesterday. I'm sorry I attacked your sitting room. And I'm sorry about..." Remus trailed off helplessly.

Dumbledore settled beside him and placed a comforting arm around his shoulders. "Please stop apologizing. You make me feel very guilty every time you do." Remus laughed and leaned into the embrace. "And as for your proposition," Dumbledore grasped his chin and turned him to face him fully, "I am very flattered. If I were younger, or if the situation were different, I would jump at the opportunity you gave me."

Remus smiled and turned away. "I'll try to stop apologizing all the time. But, would you...I mean...I feel better when I'm not alone. Remus trailed off helplessly.

"Would I what?" Dumbledore asked. "Feel free to ask me for anything, Remus. I have told you that I will do everything possible to help you. All you need do is ask."

Remus nodded and swallowed painfully. "I just wish you could stay with me more. I know how busy you are, but I feel better when you're here. Like my brain isn't trying to crawl out of my head."

Dumbledore smiled and ran a gentle hand through Remus' hair. "I will do what I can."

Remus opened the door slowly and peered around the edge. The door did not squeak, had not since the first time he had snuck into this room nearly two months ago, and he suspected that Dumbledore had oiled the hinges after that first night. He slipped into the room, securing the door behind him and padded over to the chair placed just so in front of the window, but near enough to the bed that he could clearly see the sleeping occupant, though he suspected he wasn't sleeping at all. Remus settled into the chair, pulling the afghan from its back around his shoulders. It was easier sitting here than trying to sleep alone in his bed. His thoughts were too crowded when he was alone. He could sleep a bit without a spell if he could keep his thoughts simple. Remus always began in his own room, but sometime during the early morning hours he would abandon his efforts and creep into Dumbledore's room, usually falling asleep in the chair, but always waking in the headmaster's bed.

Remus closed his eyes and leaned his head against the back of the chair. The full moon had been last week and he still felt the effects of the change. He usually recovered quicker, but then he was usually able to sleep easier as well. He had asked Dumbledore not to put him into an enchanted sleep last week, wanting to at least try and sleep on his own, and hoping that the weariness that accompanied the change would enable him to sleep. Instead he had lain awake all night, his thoughts a jumble of memories of the Marauders cavorting in the woods. He jumped as a voice broke through his thoughts.

"Perhaps it would be best if you began your night lying down rather than huddled uncomfortably in the chair."

Remus looked over. Dumbledore was staring at him. He blushed and looked away. "I don't mean to bother you."

"Well then perhaps you should come here. It hurts my back watching you sleep in that chair."

Remus blushed again, but crawled under the blankets beside Dumbledore. "Are you sure you don't mind?"

Dumbledore chuckled and pulled the blankets up around Remus' shoulders. "My dear boy, if I had minded I would have told you so the first time I found you sleeping in my chair."

Remus sighed and snuggled into the pillows piled around him. It wasn't long until he was sleeping peacefully.

Remus woke the next morning and unconsciously rubbed his cheek against the shoulder his head was pillowed on.

"Finally awake?" A voice near his ear asked softly. He turned his head to find Dumbledore gazing at him with a fond _expression on his face.

"Is it very late?" He asked and closed his eyes again.

Dumbledore chuckled, and he grinned at the vibrations that ran through his own chest at the sound. "Not at all. Although it is time that I began my day." Dumbledore paused significantly. "If you wouldn't mind unwinding your hands from my hair�."

Remus moved away, uncurling his fingers which clutched tightly in Dumbledore's long hair and beard. "Sorry. I hadn't realized�."

"It's quite alright." Dumbledore sat up and swung his legs over the side of the bed, but turned back before he stood. "How did you sleep?"

Remus considered the question. "Good." He smiled. "I even had good dreams."

"Excellent!" Dumbledore exclaimed and sprang from the bed to prepare for the day ahead. Remus settled into the pillows once more and listened to the Headmaster humming to himself as he wandered about the room. He fell asleep again with a smile on his face.

Remus poured the tea and waited for Dumbledore to finish arranging the cakes on his plate. His hands shook slightly as he handed the cup to Dumbledore and he clenched them tightly in his lap after he set his own cup in front of him. His heart had jumped into his throat when Dumbledore had formally requested Remus join him for tea that afternoon, and had been there ever since. He was certain he knew what this was about, and he was just as certain that it was the last thing he wanted to hear. He looked up and cringed at the benevolent smile on Dumbledore's face.

"Now, Remus, there is no need to be upset," Dumbledore remarked. "You knew this day was coming."

Remus nodded and turned his attention to the chocolate biscuit on his plate. "I guess it doesn't make any difference that I don't want to go."

"I'm afraid it doesn't," Dumbledore answered sadly. "However, it would please me greatly if you would do something for me."

Remus looked up from the chocolate biscuit he was crumbling on his plate. "You know I'd do anything for you."

Dumbledore smiled. "I do know that, which is why I won't hesitate to ask it of you. I own a small cottage not far from Hastings. I try and spend a week or two there every year, but I've found that I spend a great deal of my time repairing the cottage rather than relaxing. I wonder if you would be willing to stay there, keep the cottage in repair, and keep me company when I do make it there."

Remus frowned. "I don't appreciate pity, Albus."

Dumbledore held up a hand. "And this is not pity, my dear boy. I also know of a wizard bookseller in the area who needs assistance, and would be willing to pay you for your time, though not enough to allow you a decent place to live. And you would be doing me a great service by living there and keeping animals and other sundry creatures away from the cottage." Dumbledore paused a moment. "And it would give me the opportunity to visit you upon occasion. I have become quite fond of you over the past several months, as you must know. And I hate to think of you on your own with no one to turn to. There is a small patch of woods nearby, and a sturdy cellar under the house for the full moon, and the bookseller is aware of your affliction."

Remus gazed at Dumbledore, searching for any hint of sympathy, but found none. Finally he nodded. Dumbledore reached across the table and gripped his hand tightly. "Thank you, my boy. You've no idea how happy this makes me."

Remus smiled and drank his tea.

Remus arranged the last plant in front of the window and stepped back to gaze at the mini jungle he had created in the 'cottage' that Dumbledore had asked him to keep. It was less a cottage and more a large house, one step down from a mansion. Four large bedrooms comprised the second floor, while a parlor, a dining room and a library took up most of the first floor. The ground floor housed the kitchen and cold keep. And the cellar Dumbledore spoke of was actually a wine cellar, potions laboratory, and a storage area that had easily been transformed into a cage that Remus could lock himself into before the change and let himself out of after. He smiled as he remembered the first summer that Dumbledore had stayed here. He had only stayed a few weeks, but they had been a wonderful few weeks, filled with laughter and quiet talks. And Dumbledore hadn't batted an eye when Remus had crawled into bed with him the first night he had stayed. Despite his repeated requests, the man refused to let their relationship move into a physical one and Remus was oddly satisfied with the arrangement.

He expected Dumbledore himself any moment now. He had sent an owl earlier in the week indicating that he would be down to visit soon. Even as the thought crossed his mind, he heard the door to the study open quietly behind him and turned to bestow a bright smile on Dumbledore as he entered. The smile quickly turned to a frown as he noticed the worried _expression on his face.

"Has something happened?" Remus asked. He didn't receive the Daily Prophet regularly, but he was certain that Mr. Marsters, the bookseller, would have told him if anything terribly important had happened.

"No, no, not at all," Dumbledore smiled and stepped forward to wrap Remus in a warm hug. "I'm terribly happy to be here, and I apologize for arriving so late in the season."

"Don't be ridiculous," Remus scolded lightly and led Dumbledore to the sofa, pushing him down on it and warming the tea he had prepared earlier. "You know that I'm happy to see you whenever you can come down."

Dumbledore sighed and accepted the steaming cup that Remus pressed into his hand. "Harry Potter begins Hogwarts this September," Dumbledore said as he relaxed into the cushions behind him. "We had a bit of trouble getting his letter delivered to him and I finally had to send Hagrid to deliver the letter in person and escort him to Diagon Alley."

Remus stared incredulously. "Why would his letter have trouble being delivered?"

Dumbledore sighed. "I never wanted to tell you about the Muggles I placed Harry with. I knew how badly you would react to the news�."

"You'd better explain now," Remus interrupted.

Dumbledore sat his cup aside and took Remus' hand in his own. "I've kept a close eye on Harry over the years. Perhaps not as closely as I should have, but I've been aware for sometime of the conditions he has lived in." He held up a hand as Remus opened his mouth to interrupt again. "It was the safest place for him. Surely you must realize that. And if I could have, I would have taken him from there and allowed you to raise him as soon as he was able to care for himself when you were not available."

"What type of conditions was he raised in?" Remus asked through clenched teeth.

"Please, stay calm," Dumbledore beseeched him. "They kept him in a cupboard under the stairs, until he received his first letter, after which they moved him into a small bedroom upstairs."

"I suppose that's not the worst of it?"

Dumbledore squeezed Remus' hand, which was gripping his tightly. "They also punished him severely for every little offense they could, treating him like a servant as well."

Remus released Dumbledore's hand and stalked to the window, cursing loudly. "How could we just leave him there?" Remus asked, turning back to Dumbledore angrily. "I understand that it's the safest place for him, but�. How could anyone treat a child that way?"

"I understand why you're so angry, and I have been angry many times over the years," Dumbledore moved toward Remus and wrapped an arm around his shoulders, holding him tightly when Remus turned to him and tucked his face into Dumbledore's beard. "I wish there had been something we could have done for Harry, and I wish with all my heart that it won't be necessary to return him there at the end of the school year, but there is truly no way we can keep him ourselves."

Remus nodded against Dumbledore's shoulders and wrapped his arms around his waist. "Thank you for telling me."

"Of course, my dear boy," Dumbledore said, pressing a kiss to Remus' hair. "I'm sure he'll settle into Hogwarts just fine. And I'll tell you all about his first year there next summer."

"I'm sorry," Remus said, his eyes on his fingers twisted into the folds of his robe in his lap. "I know I should have told you." He smiled painfully. "I tired to tell you several times over the year, but I�."

"You could never bring yourself to betray their friendship," Dumbledore said and laid a hand over Remus'. "It's quite alright. Everything turned out well in the end."

Remus met Dumbledore's gaze for the first time since meeting with him to tender his resignation. "But what if Sirius had been guilty? What if he actually had been after Harry? He could have killed Harry and where would we be then?" he asked.

"Do you honestly think I blame you for keeping this secret?" Dumbledore asked. "Those boys were your first friends; they provided the first compassion that you had ever experienced in your life. And they did this marvelous thing for you." Dumbledore brushed the hair out of Remus' eyes and cupped his cheek. "I would never blame you for wanting to hold on to those happy memories. Please stop worrying over this. You have done nothing to feel guilty about."

Remus nodded and turned his head to press a kiss into Dumbledore's palm. "Thank you, Albus."

"You mustn't let this concern you any longer, my dear boy," Dumbledore said. "The dark times are returning, and more quickly than we had imagined. I will have need of you again soon. You must direct your energies toward fighting the Dark and not blaming yourself for things that are beyond your control."

Remus nodded again. "Are you going to be able to stay at the cottage this summer?"

Dumbledore chuckled and pulled Remus' head to his shoulder. "My dear boy, I would not miss spending the summer with you for anything in the world."

Remus entered the Headmasters office, carefully balancing the tea tray with one hand. He grimaced as he caught sight of Dumbledore absently stroking Fawkes. The baby phoenix preened on his perch under the attention. He placed the tea tray on the table and moved to stand behind him.

"I am more sorry than I can say, Remus."

Remus flinched at the pain that tinted the usually dignified voice. He took the hand that was gently stroking the phoenix and led Dumbledore to the armchairs before the hearth. He poured a cup of tea and pushed it into his hand.

"As you so often tell me, there is no reason to apologize," Remus remarked.

Dumbledore smiled and gazed into his cup of tea. "I told Harry of the prophecy yesterday."

Remus nodded. "I know."

"Following so quickly on the heels of Sirius' death." Dumbledore looked up. Remus swallowed a gasp at the haunted look in his eyes. "I could have waited for another day." Dumbledore looked down at his cup again. "I should have waited for another day."

Remus set his own cup of tea aside and moved to kneel beside Dumbledore's chair. "That's exactly what you've said each summer. How long were you going to keep it from him?"

Dumbledore rested a hand on Remus' shoulder. "I could have waited until the grief wasn't so new."

"That wouldn't have made the telling any easier," Remus remarked. "He needed to know and he deserved to know." Remus removed the hand from his shoulder and pressed a kiss to the palm before gripping it tightly. "When would you have told him? Next year? The year after?" Remus gazed into the blue eyes that were finally meeting his own. "There was no good time to tell Harry about his destiny."

"And what of Sirius' death?" Dumbledore looked away resolutely. "He blames me for his death. And he is right"

"No, he's not right," Remus remarked with a bit of exasperation. "It wasn't your fault."

"If not my fault, then who's?" Dumbledore asked.

"Sirius'" Remus breath caught briefly. "It is no one's fault, save his. He knew better than to leave. He rushed out and risked his life when he would have been better served staying at Grimmauld Place and waiting for us to return." Remus bit his lip and looked away. "It's my fault for not stopping him." Remus brushed the hand away that sought to caress his cheek. "It's Kingsley's fault, and Tonk's and Mad-eye's and Severus' and Harry's." Remus turned back to the dimmed blue-eyed gaze. "It's everyone's fault. And it's no one's fault but Sirius'. We all knew the risk when we chose to support you." Remus shifted closer and laid his hand over Dumbledore's heart. "You're fighting the good fight, Albus. We follow you because we know that you are right and we don't want to live under Voldemort's rule. We all understand that not everyone will survive. We know the risks. We would never blame you. And you mustn't blame yourself."

Dumbledore's eyes filled with tears. "My dear boy."

Remus returned the watery smile and stood, pulling Dumbledore to his feet as well. "Let's get you packed for the summer. The cottage isn't far from London and will be convenient for meeting with the Order and the Ministry." He turned a critical gaze on the slightly stooped figure. "I think a bit of sea air will do both of us some good."

Remus turned to lead Dumbledore toward his private quarters but turned back at a hand on his shoulder. Dumbledore pulled him into his arms and Remus wrapped his own around his waist.

"Whatever would I do without you?" Dumbledore mumbled into his hair.

Remus inhaled the familiar scents that clung to Dumbledore's clothes and beard. And smiled.