Remus is standing on rolling green hills, which is a relief. And he’s in men’s clothes – old-fashioned, but they’ll do. Now just to find out which bloody book-
“Are you following me, Clare?” A drawling voice, familiar but not. Remus turns. Sirius, infuriatingly dapper, sits his horse easily, a brow cocked at Remus. “You left the wench. Not pure enough, was she? Defiled?” He rakes Remus with his gaze slowly, offensively. “Don’t look so pure yourself.”
Recognition blossoms, along with affront. “Alec D’Urberville?”
That gleaming, dark smile. “If you say so. Come here, Angel, and face defilement. I dare you.”