I'm an avid reader of yours, if not much of a reviewer, but this chapter prompted me to drop you a line for a change. Like you, I've gotten rather caught up in the Remus sidestory, so that's what I'll ramble about.

"There's no one as would require this of you," he said quietly. "Not me nor anyone else thinks you're anything like a coward, Lupin."

Except himself. Which is the way it always goes, really. Things we couldn't forgive ourselves for if we turned away. And at the threshold, too. It's an issue of responsibility - particularly interesting in this case, as Remus shirked quite a bit of said responsibility in PoA, but then again, I'd say a conscientious person can become more conscientious when they fail in their duty. Because they know what it's like not to. And it doesn't help all the time, but it can... as it does here.

But really, I wonder why anyone thinks that line does any good.

I do love Remus here - strong enough to topple his fears even when he can't suppress them, but not quite strong enough to ride over them. His interaction with Fenrir is... odd... almost stunted, really, although I'm not sure what I expected, given two people on entirely different pages with a glass wall between them. Then again. Fenrir thinks that literacy is stupid, that thought is stupid - a philosophy, if you will - but he's rather surprisingly eloquent, and retains a rough sort of grace right until the minute he jumps at the glass.

Like he doesn't want to be human but can't help it, really.

I also enjoyed the main thread of the story, even if I'm not going to ramble about it, too. =P