This is probably one of the best written fan fics I have ever read. I really liked the story and hope you continue to write more like this one.

Well ... this was ... refresheningly new and almost impossibly deep, especially going into what Remus smells, the way he describes the Marauders as immortal and forever seventeen, that was something beautiful; then there was the way he thinks of Harry and the way he looks at Harry and what he smells like, and how much he loves him and everything else all thrown in together like an inctricate and awfully simple tapestry that can only be understood at the very end and yet is understandable still as you go through it.
Absolutely wonderful and I hope you will update soon.

This chapter did a magnificent job of portraying universal human moments--the anxiety of a father-to-be, the sweetness of chocolate melting on the tongue in childhood...even the gathering fear and paranoia that comes with war. I had such a clear picture of James, pacing in the antiseptic white hospital corridor, trying to cope not only with the acute fears of a new father, but also with the thought that his child would be the one of which the prophecy spoke--wishing for a late birth, or even for a daughter instead of a son (very apt, by the way--underscoring the idea that already he would give anything at all so the baby would be safe). I can _feel_ his worry, for his son and for Lily. Sirius is Sirius to the end--doing his best to be supportive, but still the laughing, impatient, perpetually energetic, devil-may-care bachelor, not _quite_ able to empathize with James' pre-birth jitters. Just the way I imagine him pre-Azkaban--and his comment that he'd rather deal with Death Eaters than be still and wait so long (the frightening thing is that he honestly means it!) was perfectly in-character: your use of humor added to the realism of the moment without diminishing its gravity. I also love the way you've drawn Remus here--steady, dependable, the balancing calming influence...and always, always the teacher, stepping in to remind the others that this same scene has been played out billions of times over the centuries and there is really nothing to worry about (the "Shut up, Moony" afterward was a nice touch, reminding us that in times of acute distress, we don't want logic). You write the complexities of human nature with apparent ease, which, I assure you, never ceases to impress me. And the description following the birth, the infinite possibilities of a new life and the world bearing witness: surely everything must stand still in deference to the miracle of birth. And then the Marauders' "reverent silence"...perfect. All of this together captured the very essence of the momentuous occasion. (And may I just say I cannot _wait_ for the moment Remus holds Harry for the first time? From hearing his description of the moment in "I Know the Truth Now", I have a feeling it will shed even more light on the nature of his bond with Harry in the present.) And...oh, one more thing to address before I switch to the present: your analogy between the Marauders and atomic structure was facinating. It underscored the image of the four (or five, counting Lily) as a close-knit group and illustrated the destructive barrage of outside forces. The invasion of fear and the resulting burden...and then the emotional effects of war, the ruthless drive of self-preservation, all of this looming chillingly on the horizon. Through this analogy, through the use of such detached, clinical terms, you manage to impart the cruelty of wartime: it devours, consumes, unthinking and unfeeling, leaving death and destruction in its wake. This is conveyed, further, on a large scale, comparing the Marauders in themselves as a small and complex universe. Artfully done! (And that last line put me in mind of T. S. Eliot's "Not with a bang, but with a whimper"--that same sort of feeling.) And now to the present...oh, yes. The communal experience of eating chocolate--beautifully described, such a simple thing, and yet made to sound so poignant (and now I'm craving the stuff). I especially love that last line, about private vs. commumal associations--taken in a larger sense, this is yet another of your simple truths (of which I am so fond), the idea of the individual vs. the universal. And I laughed _so_ hard at the mental image of little Remus, wielding his chocolate bar like a weapon (one moment, please, while I compose myself). A classic example of misapplied advice. And always after that, the association drawn for him between chocolate and that feeling of personal victory--very, very nice. I think it is ironic, in a way, that Harry smells of chocolate...the sweet once kept Remus' soul safe from Dementors (well, in his mind, at least), and now here is Harry, who has such a claim on his soul, this unique draw for him that nothing else can replicate, as Harry is his last opportunity for the security of the pack, or even for the simpler security of human companionship and familial love. Harry has Remus' soul...and I think they both know it, too. Oh, and the "ommiting moral" bit...lovely, Remus-as-teacher again, guiding without ever giving the answer outright. Some people are simply natural teachers, and I believe he is one. (It's always struck me as amusing that in Native American culture, the wolf is always cast as "teacher".) Then this in-depth analysis of Harry's scent...very good, the sort of detail that only lupine olfaction could detect. (And that comment "teenagers have too many hormones"--priceless. Such a dry observation, and yet all too true.) Then the coming-together of all these seperate components into a single whole, this strong positive association...I believe Remus finds it, and Harry, almost intoxicating (and seeing the complete sensory immersion he is capable of, that is perfectly understandable). The following moment, Harry's childlike suppositions, Remus' smiling...in spite of the somewhat morbid subject matter, it is a warm moment--a momentary respite, as we are reminded. This sense of childhood will be destroyed, as it must be, by war. The first victim of war is innocence. Then...oh, this has to be a favorite moment. One instant, the scholar, the professor--then Harry's question (deliberate temptation) flips a switch. Duality stressed again, wolf dominant, spinning away of reason and logic and hanging onto control by a thread taut and _so close_ to snapping--then abrupt reversal again, a snapback effect. Again human throughts, human memories--very telling, this longing to merge past and present. And I love the description of James and Lily as a "music box couple", the image of frozen perfection, the preservation of memory as though it were tangible as either music box or photograph; touching on the importance of reconnecting associations so that these memories do not fade. Then again--teacher-Remus, and the drawing of parallels. In the summation of the conflict between Ralph and Jack, one sees foreshadowing of the conflicts of war, the same clash between logic and fear in pursuit of safety that brought down the Marauders. Then of course, the idea of differing "monsters", differing fears...the nature of fear being universal; the content of fear being individual. Next scene, night--Remus' first impression on waking. I love the "spark and extinguish" line--not only is fire typically portrayed as a symbol of life and spirit, but I have seen Sirius that way. Then the "burn of mortality": another fire connection. Fire can warm or consume, support life or bring death. But the contrast between Sirius' reaction to death and Peter's highlights the difference between them--Sirius' reckless courage vs. Peter's fear. Then Harry's nightmare, the parallel between past and present drawn again as Remus notes his reaction to Harry's fears...and the allusions to the cave in HBP, the Inferi's web-fogged eyes, the eldrich glow of that potion...it makes them seem justified. Harry's own reaction to Remus immediately afterward is eerie in itself, the momentary inability to distinguish between reality and dream--and then Remus' all-too-realistic fear of losing Harry, Harry's fear of losing Remus (reminding us again of the bond between them, the growing connection) Remus' comment (_there's_ a foot-in-mouth moment), his helplessness to explain to Harry that it was the monster of war that killed Sirius (haunting imagery there, by the way). Oh--and Remus' observation of the Marauders' unique immortality was wonderful...somehow, vitality like theirs is immune to such things as death. Their memory will live on forever "on the edge of sight and touch" (wonderful description, evoking a Peter Pan quality, the immortality of youth and mischief and the pretense of invulnerability...perfect). It captures their essential nature, as with Sirius' "seventeen forever". Then this wonderful moment between the two--I get the sense of a kind of symbiosis, each reassuring the other and being reassured in so doing. Harry's moment of vulnerability, Remus' acknowledgement of that vulnerability--it lowes boundaries, creates a connection between them, this essential silent communication, this understanding--and this is what drives Harry to initiate contact, to begin reciprocating Remus' devotion to him in a way necessary to both. I love Remus' description of the truth of himself, the many facets of his character--wolf, human, professor, individual, Marauder--all creating a unified whole that is beyond his explanation, at the edge of his understanding. The longing he professes for human contact, the definition of humanity by "nearness of others"--perhaps another reason he needs Harry is because Harry helps him reinforce his human identity, as well as the need for connection that is so essential to him? (Which would be ironic, considering what it is Harry wants to become...I'm eagerly waiting to find out what happens there.) His description of Harry was beautiful...poignant, encompassing his role in Remus' life. And that gap between what is and should be--I think Harry is beginning to cross it, or at least that it can be bridged between the two of them. And finally an end, a "pocket of warmth" (I found that particularly sweet) and another connection between present and past as they find solace together. As usual, wonderful, poetic, thought-provoking work, and _so_ well-worth the hour and forty minutes spent on this review. I hope to see another chapter soon!
Wishing you Inspiration,
LiteraryLuminary (formerly Amity)

It's really well written, but frankly, it's boring.

First of all, thank you... thank you... thank you! I was so sure that you most have fallen off the face of the Earth and this delightful sequel would be no more. But you have risen from your slumber and are better than ever. I enjoyed your French verb lesson very much. Even though I am fluent in French I don't think I have ever looked at the verbs in that manner. Quite an unique outlook you have in your head. I simply cannot wait to read the next chapter. I hope your prose flows eagerly from your head to pen once again.

I have an account of my own now (my pen-name's LiteraryLuminary), but I thought I'd use the name you know to review this sequel. You're in top form with just the first few sentences--the dark allure of a stalking werewolf, a description of the bite I can only call seductive...you haven't lost your knack for description, which is what drew me to your work in the first place--you manage to evoke not only images, but sensations--sounds, scents, tastes and textures. The familiar flashback sequence...oh, that brings back memories! I love the way you've captured the Marauder's unique and complex dynamic, preserved this single, beautiful moment forever. James and Sirius, all the arrogance and assumed immortality of youth--Lily, maternal, regal, bright-spirited, full of mischief, somehow already the crux of the group, a sun for the others to orbit around--I love the contrast between her scent at seventeen and as a mother, and yet both are hers, uniquely Lily, Remus...oh, to see Remus like this, complete, smiling, joking, cheerful--and Peter...benign, unassuming without being inept, reaching for the reflected glory just beyond his grasp. I just have to add that you really have Sirius encapsulated in that one paragraph--"Seventeen forever"...he never lost that Peter Pan quality, that eternal childhood fire, burning and consuming at once. And now the present...back to the lovely mingling of pain and longing. So like Remus, to cry for that memory, for the ghost of a lost friend. And this description of death--the unnatural, sickly stasis, all the images and sensations that scream lack of life. And...oh, my. Only you could make a suicide attempt poetic, make blood on porcelain tiles and faces frozen in death-masks and the slowing beat of a heart beautiful. It is almost frightening, the emotions you can evoke. Frightening and intoxicating at once. And now to have him remember Harry, Harry who wants so badly the terrible freedom that is so easy, save for the few threads of rationality that hold him back, for him to give. The bond between them is stronger still now. I love the paradox of lycanthropic existence painted here--the prospect of virtual immortality only a myth, the reality making the curse a consuming flame. "Creatures of slow suicide..." Chilling. Chilling and beautiful and apt. And this longing in Remus for possession of Harry...not entirely the wolf's, either. The lycanthropy complicates it, but what he really hungers for is the perfect security of unconditional love, of an unbreakable bond--a very basic, ironically human need. Remus' home in Shadow Wood is appropriate--without, surrounded by the trappings of darkness; within, filled with the trappings of a simple human life. Even his home is a testimony to his duality. And the description of the place itself is haunting--"cursed-bloods", an interesting term--crying out, broken just as Remus is broken, because they too are divided, tormented by the existence they are forced to lead because they belong nowhere. Remus' decription of himself as one needing a pack, of one part of a whole--I, too, see him that way. And then the casual-bitter listing of controlling factors...personality, society, genetics--and that description of the curse itself is glorious, "rivulets of curse-magic..." Amazing. I can feel Remus' hunger for progeny in this next passage, feel his bitterness at what he cannot have. This second description, this reflection on himself--such contrast between the mild-mannered professor Harry sees and this man, this contradictiory, beautifully passionate creature who needs, who feels, so strongly! And now this resolve to have Harry truly know him, the essence of himself, before it withers--an appropriate wish--to have them know each other before the last vestige of childhood leaves Harry, too. And I love the Irving quote--you're right about that! And to give Harry the Lord of the Flies...interesting parallel to draw, in light of the tumultuous hold morality is currently keeping on Remus. Without the constraints of society, without any witnessing eyes...will Remus, too, succumb to temptation? And drawing the Lord with the features of their own personal demons...very, very nice touch. Remus' gentle indulgence of Harry's slight naivete is very in-character, and again, I must enjoy the parallel between the LoF and their current situation--war, predjudice, paranoia, twist and distort judgement...much as I imagine it did with the Marauders prior to that fateful Halloween. I hope fervently that you continue this--I will continue to review it, I promise. It is, I assure you, shaping up to be every bit as enjoyable as its predecessor. Your "knack for voicing simple truths" has not diminished.

I LOVE this story! Beautifully written, go on write some more , pleasee:-))

This is good, so's the previous one. Keep going!!

I just read the prequel to this and enjoyed how you were portraying the marauders as a pack. It was an interesting story so I'll be looking forward to finding out more.

Remus and Harry are my favorite characters too. I loved your story of Harry's point of view. It was very enlightening. I hope you continue this story soon. I can't wait til I see where you will take this story. ;)

Very good writing. I like the last line about being seventeen and living forever, I know that is how I felt when I was seventeen! I also love french and I love how you mentioned what "au revoir" means and its significance. Also what I like about French is another good-bye phrase "adieu" which translates "to God" a lot of people think you say adieu as a nice way to say good-bye but if you say adieu you're basically saying you'll never see the person in this world again. French is such an interesting language.