Disclaimer: This story is mine, however, the world and characters it's based on belong to J.K Rowling.

Warnings: This story is slash and therefore focuses on a male/male love pairing (Remus and Sirius); there will also be detailed sexual scenes. This fic takes into account HBP, and has been edited accordingly (but doesn't really give anything away from the book).

Rating: R (M)

Summary: Remus Lupin has always kept secrets. It was necessary – any other alternative was inconceivable. But with the beginning of the fifth year of Hogwarts, Remus has acquired a new secret, one that is to change his whole life, again. Herein lies a Sirius/Remus slash romance that expands on the clichéd werewolf 'mating' situation. How will Remus cope when his wolf side keens for the one person who could never be his?

Betas: I give many thanks to Venny and Veronica who are my brilliant betas for this fic!

Authors Notes: I have made a few changes, the biggest one being that I've replaced Lucius with Evan Rosier, as it wasn't cannon to have Lucius in Hogwarts at that period of time (you'll have to excuse the Lily/James but that is needed for plot purposes) there was also the fact that Lucius didn't really fit well in the role. I'm sorry about this, as those of you who have read the story before may be a little confused, but I won't be messing with it any more, promise. Enjoy reading!

A Mate

Prologue

It was always the same.

First, the flesh would start to shiver as if the body lacked warmth – shuddering tremors of expectation. A flaming temperature burns the trembling form, and whimpers are drawn from the small body. Heat and pain then blend when the flesh twists, bones crack and muscles contort, as the change starts. Hair sprouts all over, and the face stretches into a snout that snorts in agony and panic. Feral golden eyes flash as desperate howls are wrenched from a place deep inside where only primitive instinct lies.

Then the pain stops as the new shape takes over, stretching and sniffing in the near dark; re-affirming the familiar prison.

Confusion first, then a rage so hot it can almost be seen through those wild gold eyes.

Anger at the cage, anger at the scent of unreachable freedom, and now a new anger - at the loneliness, and at the deep set knowledge that without that freedom, there would never be the one thing that was longed for more than anything else.

A mate.

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To be continued…