The big dog, heart racing and stomach churning with apprehension and anticipation, wearily rounded the last uphill corner and stopped. He sat to look out over the small hidden valley with its gardens, pond and cottage tucked away under the dark eaves of Broceliande Forest.

There it was, Pont du Lac Farm.

Just as he remembered it from the magical days of the first year of his marriage.

A pretty place. A small stone farm cottage covered with climbing roses, surrounded by herb and flower gardens, exuding an air of peace and intimacy.

A place so old and so much a part of its landscape it gave an impression of timelessness.

A perfect setting and sanctuary for Remus.

The last place on earth he wished to be.

For a short time a year ago he would have come here gladly.

A year ago, for all his remorse over his mistakes with and about Remus, he'd had no doubts of Remus' welcome. Now, after nearly a year of avoiding any kind of communication with his former lover, he wasn't so sure.

Though Remus had stopped short of the truth that night in front of Harry, Ron and Hermione by declaring  only friendship for him, he'd known, simply by looking at him, that Remus, despite everything, still loved him and wanted him back. He'd known that Remus would not deny him,that if he wished to share Remus' bed, he could do so.

According to what he'd learned in Azkaban, though, Remus pretty much had no choice. It was Sirius for him, or no one. Of course, Dumbledore said that wasn't quite true, though he admitted the Para-Healer had gotten the gist of the matter. When Sirius asked for more information, Dumbledore told him he'd have to ask Remus.

Right.

Unfortunately, when he'd left Remus, unable to listen to any lies with which Remus might defend himself, he'd made it very clear to Remus  that he was leaving him because of Remus himself, because of what he was - a Dark Creature who was a creature of the Dark. Untrustworthy.

He was certain Remus had never forgotten that, and he knew he'd given Remus no reason to think he'd changed his mind. Add to that the fact that the last few minutes of their reunion had placed him in the position of having to defend the children from Remus in his werewolf form, well, he figured he had a lot of convincing to do.

Remus had never, not during their years together as students, not during the year they lived together after their marriage, allowed him to see him during his transformation. He was both too frightened he might hurt Sirius, even in dog form, and too afraid he'd disgust his lover.

It was looking more and more as if he had no hope of reconciling with Remus; not because of Remus, but because of his own inability to talk about feelings. As Dumbledore had told him, he reacted to situations without thought. He'd lead with his heart, and then his fists, leaving his mind somewhere behind. He was going to have to change that, if he wanted to get Remus back on proper terms.

When he'd told Remus he was leaving, his lover had gone into shock, becoming unresponsive. Sirius, thoroughly convinced his lover was cheating on him and betraying him and the others with Snape and Voldemort, hadn't cared, had hardly paid any attention. When Remus was able to talk, he'd listened with half an ear, concentrating on getting his things together and getting out of Remus' family home.

He knew now he'd been wrong, but at the time all he'd been able to do was marvel at the lies and acting ability of his lover. Remus had finally broken down in tears, begging to know what he'd done so he could fix it, apologizing and swearing he'd never do 'it' again, if only Sirius would tell him what 'it'was, or what he hadn't done so that he could do it.

That was when he'd told Remus the reason he couldn't stay with him was because Remus was a werewolf.

Remus had gotten quiet then, much as he had when Hermione told Ron and Harry about him. He'd simply sat and watched as Sirius finished packing; there'd been nothing he could say to that - they both knew there was no cure for lycanthropy.

He'd looked around the cottage, not noticing how bare it was - he'd packed everything he'd brought into the marriage, not wishing Snape to have the use of anything he'd owned - and left without another word.

All of those things combined made for a very big apology. He wasn't sure he was up to it, but he knew he had no choice. He'd hurt Remus badly. He'd had what he thought were good reasons, but ignorance and mistakes didn't change the fact that he'd hurt the person he loved most in the world.

He'd avoided Remus and his messages this past year because he was ashamed.

He'd not only left his lover, his mate, but he'd made sure he'd be left alone by their friends, too. He told  all of them about his suspicions of Remus' treachery, about the 'affair' with Snape.

None of their friends would have gone to Remus for the truth of the story simply because of the paranoia of the times and the fact that no one wanted Voldemort to know they knew about Snape and Remus.

He hadn't told Dumbledore, of course, and he still didn't know why; perhaps he'd not had a chance back then, but he'd spent considerable time convincing James and Lily. They hadn't wanted to believe. For all he knew, they never truly did believe, however when it came to Harry's safety, they weren't willing to take any chances. They'd gone into hiding, so Remus hadn't thought it strange he didn't see them anymore;  he hadn't actually seen them all that much after graduation anyway.

Remus hadn't been allowed to work with them, of course. His illnesses, long recuperations, and need for a secure facility during the full moon made it imperative he stay at home, rather than attempt to follow his friends into the field. He had therefore, done exactly that. He'd pursued a course of research and study he'd said he hoped would both further the fight against Voldemort, and earn him the credentials he would need to one day teach at Hogwarts, or Beauxbaton, as his father before him had done.

Remus had already been isolated even before Sirius left him.

He hadn't realized until Azkaban just how dependent upon him Remus had been. Sirius had been friend, lover, and mate. He'd been the one to bring in financial support, with his job, and his inheritance. When he'd left, he'd taken personal, physical, emotional and financial support with him.

Of course, at the time, he'd thought his place would soon be filled by Snape.

During the course of the last year he'd had plenty of time to go over that night in Hogsmeade. He'd remembered what Remus looked like, and every word he'd said.

His mate had been much too thin, as if he'd far too often gone hungry. His clothes were threadbare, the fashion of decades before, and most likely his father's carefully preserved hand-me-downs.

He'd been totally surprised by Remus' words. Somehow, he hadn't thought of what Remus must have gone through.

Terrified, right from the start, that he would lose the only friends he'd ever had - which he had. His lover and mate from mistrust, James and Lily to death, Peter to betrayal.

Shunned by those around him - because of what he was.

Unable to get a paying job - because of what he was.

Losing his job at Hogwarts, the only job he'd ever held, one which he obviously had loved - because of what he was.

Sirius was ashamed of what he'd set in motion. Of what he'd failed to think about.

He'd sent Harry a Firebolt for Christmas. He'd never thought of all the times his lover and mate had gone without something he needed, if only the comfort of a caring friend.

Thank the Light for Albus Dumbledore and Hogwarts.

And that was another thing.

During his years at Hogwarts he'd had his share of interviews with his Head of House, old Aamon Buckminster. As bad as those interviews had been, he had, on several occasion as a student, and later as one of the network, ended up in Dumbledore's office.

He'd hated ending up in Dumbledore's office.

There was never any ranting, raving, anger or condemnation. Impatience, yes. Plain speaking , yes.

He'd ended up in Dumbledore's office several times this last year. He recieved instructions, yes, but he'd also heard a few plain truths.

Truths about his enmity for Snape, truths about his friendship with James, truths about his relationship with Remus.  He hadn't like hearing any of it.

He really didn't want to think about Snape. He wasn't too keen about thinking about James. He really didn't want, as Dumbledore had suggested, to think about Remus, but since it impacted on the meeting ahead, he had to.

Sirius had, up until he met James Potter, been used to being the best, the fastest, the smartest, the best looking. He had been used to admiration, to being sought out. When he met James, he'd had to share, but that had been all right. He and James were just enough alike, and just diffreent enough, to be best friends without conflict.

Remus, a totally different type of person, had been a later addition, during their third year, but a more familiar one. He'd seen Remus around the common room and in his classes, but he'd never really had time for him. He'd been taken up with James and school work and pranks.

One night James had been busy  tutoring Peter Pettigrew in the library, and Sirius, unable to put up with Peter's fawning, had gone back to the Gryffandor Common Room in self defense. He'd walked in to find the room empty. Most of the students were off in the library, like James and Peter, studying for mid-term exams, or off about some personal larks. Over by the fireplace however, one big armchair was occupied by one of his year mates, Remus Lupin. He didn't know him well, but he had plenty of time right then.

He'd walked over to the fire and asked the boy if he'd mind company. Remus had looked up at him with huge hazel eyes from beneath thick, thick lashes, and smiled tentatively at him, shaking his head. The two of them, thirteen and fourteen, on the brink of young manhood, sat the for several hours, talking, getting to know each other, in companionable conversation.

That had been the beginning. Sirius had felt something settle quietly  into place that  night, but he'd only in the last year realized what it was - the forging of a lifelong bond.

It had been so easy, sliding into friendship with Remus.

Remus, too frequently ill because of his curse,  couldn't play sports or keep up with their rough and tumble lifestyle. His forays into thier adventures were of a quieter sort, except for the nights of the full moon, so he placed few demands upon his new friend's time. In class, though undeniably intelligent, he was never at the top,  sincehe had too much work to make up due to his absences, so he never threatened Sirius' position.  Remus' friendship was simple and undemanding. He'd continued to spend most of his time with James, even when Lily came on the scene.

He knew  now he hadn't valued Remus' friendship enough. He'd had the best of two worlds between his two friends. Adventure and excitement with James, quiet and contentment with Remus. At the time, however, Remus'  only distinctions for him were his curse, and his undeniable beauty.

Even Remus' beauty, however, might not have been enough to get his attention if Snape hadn't taken to sniffing around Remus. It woke something in him, a possessiveness, that forced him to take a good look at himself. He'd realized Remus brought out an overwhelming lust in him, and a raging jealousy.

It had prompted him to seduce Remus into his bed.

What a revelation that had been.

Far from being a virgin himself, he'd thought their first time would be difficult. Remus was undeniably virginal, naive and inexperienced. What he hadn't counted on was the responsiveness and innovation of an honestly loving heart.

Remus had been dynamite in bed.

Even so, it had taken James and Lily - who had seen what he had not -  to get him to propose to Remus.

Remus, for his part, had been a bit confused. He'd considered them already married, and seemed surprised to find out Sirius hadn't. Giving his body to Sirius had, for him, signified a life bond. Sirius was his mate. He'd agreed to the handfasting, however, and happily given himself,before witnesses, over to his lover.

Sirius hadn't realized, until Dumbledore pointed it out to him, that he'd treated his lover like an old-fashioned Muggle wife, not a dearly cherished and beloved equal. Oh, granted, Remus had been at fault as well, but he'd had nothing by which to guide himself. He'd never visited friends houses, and only a few of the professors at school were married. He'd never seen a relationship beyond the schoolday romances at Hogwarts. That wasn't enough for him to understand a maturing marriage relationship.

Remus hadn't realized he could demand or ask anything of Sirius, he was far too used to being a second class citizen -  a werewolf, a non-human.  He'd simply accepted, joyously and gratefully, what he was given. Perhaps if he had, their relationship would not have taken the turns that it had. Perhaps Sirius would have realized sooner that he did love Remus. Perhaps, but that was in the past, never to return.

Sirius/Padfoot lay down, curling up in the shadow of a pine tree, and continued to view the farm. Even though he knew he had only to walk down the remaining few yards to see Remus, he hesitated, hoping for a first glimpse of him from a distance. A few more minutes might give him enough time to resolve his memories and get his conflicting emotions under control.

Remus had changed since he'd left him. In surviving and adapting to his circumstances, he'd changed. He'd become more assertive, more forceful, more mature.

Frightening thought that. His Remus had already been far more mature in far too many ways.

How else had he changed? He hadn't hesitated to take charge of the situation in the shack, or to attempt to restrain Sirius. In the past, in their life together, Remus had always deferred to Sirius and James. He'd been the gentle one, the voice of restraint. That night he'd been fully willing to help Sirius kill Peter, though he had been able to to allow Harry a voice in Peter's fate. He'd then backed up Harry's decision and forced Sirius to accept it.

He'd found he liked an assertive Remus. It was extremely attractive.

What a night that had been. Peter and Remus and the Dementors. Snape.

He didn't care what anyone, even Dumbledore, said. He'd work with Snape against Voldemort, but he would never trust him on a personal level. Not with himself, not with Harry, not with Remus. It would be a cold day in Hell before he let Snap near Remus again.

Snape had laid hands on his mate. Hurt him. Snape had been responsible for their separation and the loss of Peter. He would never, never forgive him.

He'd probably never forgive himself. Would Remus?

It was time to find out. Remus was his, and he was ready at last to admit he was Remus' in return - mind and soul and body. Now all he had to do was explain everything to his lover. Finding the words would be hard, or maybe not.

Long ago, at Hogwarts, Dumbledore had taught him some words that might do in this situation.

    I'm sorry.

    I was wrong.

    Please forgive me.

Of course, he could add a few of his own choosing.

    I love you. I never stopped.

They would be a start.

He got up from his lounging spot by the path and began his descent toward the cottage.

It had been a long detour - the separation, Azkaban, the last year - but the road now lead to the only place he wished to be. Remus, no matter where he was, would always be his home at the end of the road.

With any luck,  at the end of the day, at the end of his life, all of Sirius roads would lead back to Remus.

They weren't working this time. His thoughts plunged immediately back into the maelstrom, targeting on Sirius.

Sirius would be here, soon. Perhaps today, maybe tomorrow, but definately soon.

Dumbledore had said so.

What was he going to do? His hands were shaking, and he wasn't too sure his legs would continue to hold him up. This wouldn't do, it wouldn't do at all.

He had to get hold of himself. The control and composure he'd fought so hard to gain and practice surely souldn't desert him now, would they? Not when he needed them so desperately?

Why now? He hadn't broken down like this since, since...fifteen years ago, when he'd...begun living by himself again.

Sirius was coming here. Sirius would be staying with him.

It was nearly a full year since Remus had seen Sirius...a year of unanswered owls...a year unvisited by the one person in the entire world he wanted to see...a year...

...but Sirius must not have been avoiding him, because Dumbledore said Sirius had been living as Padfoot and keeping watch over Harry during the Tri - Wizard Tournament. Of course, his owls wouldn't have been answered. Of course Sirius wouldn't have been able to come to him.

What a terrible thing to have happened. The poor Diggory's. Cedric had been a fine and promising young man.

Stop dithering. Stop avoiding the main issue.

Sirius still loved him.

Sirius had always loved him.

Their separation had been a big mistake, and huge misunderstanding.

Sirius was coming to see him and he was going to stay with him. Maybe all summer.

Dumbledore said so.

What was he going to do?

He loved Sirius so incredibly much. He'd never stopped loving him.

What if he screwed up again?

He wasn't human. He hadn't been human since he was three years old.

He hadn't grown up the way everyone else had. He'd lived on the farm, rarely ever seeing anyone outside of his mother and father. He hadn't understood social conventions. He hadn't understood about friends. He certainly hadn't understood about relationships, or love ,or sex.

He was a were-wolf. A man-wolf.

Even if he didn't look like one on the outside. He knew very well what he looked liked on the outside.

On the outside he looked like a perfectly normal, scrawny, underfed, over-tired human male. On the inside - on the inside he was a conflicting labyrinth of human and wolfen instincts.

Because of what he was, he'd messed up the best thing in his life. He'd thought love and sex were the same. That where your mind and heart loved, your body followed. That sex was the natural and normal outcome of love. And so it was.

For wolves.

For wolves, love was forever, so when you gave your body, that love was forever.

Love was between life-mates; therefore, so was sex.

Having sex was only the final physical bonding begun by the heart and mind which began with the decision to love.

It was the wolf's way. Irrevocable and eternal.

He thought it was that way for humans. It had been for his parents. It certainly seemed that way for James and Lily.

He hadn't realized humans could have sex outside of love, or that they could have so many partners.

He'd been so foolish to be surprised when Sirius asked him to marry him. He'd honestly though they already were married when Sirius invited him into his bed. That hadn't stopped him from feeling joy at the request, however.

He'd belonged to Sirius, and Sirius had belonged to him. For a year. Then Sirius had told him he couldn't be with him anymore. He couldn't live with, or love, a creature of the Dark. he couldn't love a werewolf.

It had all been a misunderstanding, though. Sirius hadn't meant what he'd said. He'd simply chosen the one thing he knew Remus would believe.

Sirius still loved him; wanted to be with him again.

Dumbledore said so.

But...he wasn't the same man...wolf...the same Remus...Sirius had loved.

He was older, now, and harder. Despite this uncharacteristic panic attack, he was stronger, more assertive. Definitely more knowledgeable about the world. Maybe, just maybe, Sirius would love him this way.

Or maybe he wouldn't.

Maybe he only wantd a memory.

What was he going to do?

Oh no, oh no, oh no...

There he was, coming down the hill.

Padfoot.

He couldn't, he just couldn't...

Remus fled around the side of the gardens and into the forest.

He just couldn't...

Padfoot saw Remus become aware of his approach. He'd barely had time to panic about the upcoming meeting with Remus, and the confession he'd need to make when he came face to face with his lover, when he saw Remus flee through the gardens, around the side of the cottage, and into the forest.

Padfoot took off in immediate pursuit.

Tearing down the hilside path, heart pounding, lungs heaving, Padfoot, in a moment of perfect clarity, cut across the edge of the back gardens and plunged into the forest mere yards behind his prey.

He wasn't going to let Remus get away from him now. Not when he'd come so far, and through so much.

Not no way.

Crashing gracelessly through brush and bushes, Remus ran blindly deeper into the forest. All too soon he heard Padfoot's pursuit. He put on a momentary burst of speed which put him slightly ahead of Sirius, and found himself trapped.

Not paying attention to his direction, he'd run in the worst possible direction. He was on The Lady's Finger, a small peninsula of land jutting out into  the cold windswept waters of Lady's Lake. Unless he wished to swim for it, he had no where to go. He was caught.

Cornered, at bay, unwilling yet to yield, and  looking very much the wolf, Remus turned to look at his lover standing between him and escape into the forest.

One moment it Padfoot standing before him, panting, the next a rather too thin, but still muscular, black-haired man stood in the dog's place.

Remus heart gave a great jump, then calmed before going into overdrive - this time out of excitement, not fear.

This was Sirius, his lover and mate, not some unthinking, glory-hunting wizard, against whom he dared not defend himself, attempting to free the area of its local werewolf. This was Sirius, come back to him at last. Tired, older, careworn, travel-stained and in undeniable need of a bath, but Sirius, for all that.

His Sirius, whom he had not touched, other than that quick brotherly hug in Hogsmeade a year ago, in fifteen years.

His Sirius, looking at him with such love and longing he thought his heart would break.

Remus began to walk forward and found his clever feet speeding up until he was running toward Sirius and Sirius was lifting his arms and gathering Remus up close and there was Sirius' mouth, his wonderful, wonderful mouth, fitting his lips to Remus' lips, and Sirius' tongue checking everyone of Remus' teeth, and Sirius' body, Sirius' warm, wonderful body, molding itself to Remus' body, and...

Two bodies - one tall, dark and strongly built for all it could use a few good meals; and one shorter, drawn in soft shades of golden brown and steel strong for all its apparently frail build - melted together.

Clothes were flung aside and hands roamed freely, sliding over slick skin,relearning familiar territory, storing away new information, noting the changes.

Two bodies slowly and gently sank to the ground together, lying on the clothes strewn on the thick, rich grass, the larger covering the smaller.

No one was there to listen, so only the forest heard, and was glad to hear, for it loved its youngest child, the low murmurs.

I love you, I love you.

Mmm. I love you,too.  I always have.

I was wrong love. Forgive me?

Of course I do. There, yes, there. I love you. Mmmm...

I want you love.

I'm yours, (sigh) I always have been.

As I'm yours. Only yours. I'm  so sorry it took me so long to realize...

Hush. Shut up. Come here. I thought you wanted me...

I do, love, I do, but we don't have...

Cottage. Bed. Now.

And there were no more murmurs, no bodies intertwined, only discarded clothing and empty space where a second before two long parted lovers had been rejoined.

In a bed not too far away a drowsy voice whispered.

"I love you, Remus."

When there was no reply Sirius raised his head to look at his lover lying beneath him.

Shaggy brown hair with flecks of gray and gold. Gorgeous hazel eyes closed in sleep. A youthful face, peaceful in repose. Well loved lips, swollen with kisses, curved in a slight smile.

Sirius smoothed his knuckles softly across one high cheekbone, marveling that he was here, in this bed, and could freely touch his lover.

His mate.

This was no Dementor  induced dream. He would not awake to despair and an empty pallet. Remus was here, with him, in life.

He'd been forgiven. He'd been welcomed. He was loved.

He had loved this body, his lover's perfect body. He'd fitted himself to it, entered it and made it his. In doing so he'd given himself. Soon, he would, for the first time, take his lover's body to himself.

Change. Everything, and nothing ,had changed, was changing, and it was good.

Remus loved him and belonged to him.

He loved Remus and belonged to him.

He'd come to the end of his roads.

He was home.