"Lupin's a wonderful teacher, and a very nice man. But he has a failing, and his failing is that he does like to be liked – and that's where he slips up because he has been disliked so often that he's always so pleased to have friends. So he cuts them an awful lot of slack." – J. K. Rowling

Perilune

by Molly Raesly

"Happy-"

"Don't."

"Why not? It's your b-"

"I said don't, James."

"But, Moony, I don't understand. Why wouldn't you want to celebrate your b- er, today. Merlin, Moony, what's with the look?"

"What look?"

"That look that you're doing right now."

"It's just my face."

"It's that look Evans always gets whenever I ask her out."

"That's because you're a bleeding prat, James. This is just the way my face looks."

"So, basically you're saying that your face normally looks like it's been stomped on by a hippogriff."

"Yeah, or like you just found out you had to shag Snivellus."

"Not you too, Sirius."

"He has a point. You look like Slughorn on a date with me."

"Haha. Nice one, Wormtail!"

"Thanks, James!"

"Well, don't start writing up wedding invitations, Pete."

"Guys!" Remus interrupted Sirius irately as he threw back red sheets so that he could sit up in his bed. "Go away!" Hastily, he closed the curtains to his four-poster bed.

"Did he think closing the curtains would work?" Peter asked curiously as he gazed at the scarlet material and then at the faces of his two best friends.

James shrugged. "He's never been the sharpest quill in the stack. Don't know why we bother to keep him around."

"Yeah," Peter agreed eagerly. "Marauders have to be smart."

Sirius barked in laughter and clapped Peter on the shoulder. "Pete, mate, I wouldn't be setting standards like that. We'd have to disown you, too."

James quirked an eyebrow mischievously. "I heard disownment was in these days."

"Well, some of us can pull it off."

Sirius and James snickered together.

James threw off his Quidditch jersey and grabbed an only somewhat wrinkled white uniform shirt off the floor and started buttoning it up over his boxers. "You know," he mused aloud, "I don't reckon this behavior is very prefect-like of Moony."

"Not that we'd know anything about being an uptight, rule-following, ass-kissing swot prefect," Sirius added as he shimmied into a pair of black trousers.

"Oi!"

"Oh, bloody hell, James! Evans is the biggest swot of them all. She's got all the professors here wrapped around her little finger because she knows how to manipulate. Or are you just too plastered by her presence not to realize that she would lick Slughorn's toes if he gave up what she wanted?"

"Ugh, gross, Padfoot!" Peter complained as he grimaced at the image while lacing up his shoes.

Loosening his scarlet and gold tie so that it hung casually around his neck, Sirius shrugged thoughtlessly. "I just speak the truth." He looked over to see James trying to use his tie as a belt. "Wormtail, mate, you're closer," Sirius announced in a bored voice.

Rolling his eyes, Peter nodded, finished tying his shoe, walked over to James, and gave him a swift blow to the back of the head.

"Bloody hell!" James grunted as his glasses fell off his nose. He winced as he lifted a hand to the back of his head. "What was that for?"

"What's anything for, Prongs?" Sirius muttered as he rolled up the sleeves of his button-down. "I know she's a ruddy tease, but you're driving me mad. Find her, take her to the nearest broomcloset, and have at it already."

"Romantic, Sirius," James quipped, realizing his mistake and undoing his tie from around his waist.

"I don't hear any complaints, my friend."

"Yeah, because there haven't been any girls," murmured Peter, who started shoving books into his bag. He started laughing to himself but then quickly stopped as he ducked to avoid a shoe aimed at his head. "Oi!"

Sirius merely chuckled.

James picked up the shoe and tossed it back to Sirius. "Warranted, Wormtail."

Peter shook his head in defeat and then returned to the pile of books falling precariously out of his bag.

"There only haven't been any girls because they're such a sodding nuisance. Who wants some bint whining to you all the time? The whole lot of them are a ruddy bore. I'll get a girl eventually, all right?"

"Me too," insisted James. "Soon we'll all be snogging girl right and left."

Sirius grinned. "But for now, to hell with them! I just don't see the point of pining over them when they're all bloody annoying."

"Not all of them," Peter amended.

"Rosmerta," Sirius replied appreciatively.

"Not her!" Peter corrected with an askance glass in James's direction.

James headed into the bathroom. "I don't see why Evans won't just date me already," he lamented grumpily. "I'm fit, aren't I?" he asked in front of the mirror as he rumpled his already messy hair so that it looked more disheveled.

"The epitome of masculinity, mate," Sirius replied back in a saccharine voice as he joined James in front of the mirror. Sirius flipped his head down and then jerked it back up. All his dark hair fell exactly into place, a few strands falling casually into his eyes.

James narrowed his eyes in jealousy and stopped fiddling with his hair. "Berk," he muttered darkly as he started brushing his teeth. "Fi'm bamn pattractibe."

"Do you believe everything your mum tells you, Prongs?"

"Shut it," grumbled James, spitting into the sink and then wiping the back of his mouth. "Wanker," he added spitefully.

Sirius let out a bark of laughter, and James left the bathroom irately.

"I think you're good looking, James," Peter voiced hopefully as he joined Sirius in front of the mirror.

"At least I have one good mate," James thanked him.

"Merlin, Wormtail, when did you become such a pouf?" Sirius teased. "Maybe you and Prongs should be the ones looking for some alone time," he added with a snicker. "Bloody hell! What was that for?"

"Warranted!" James called as he tossed his textbooks into his handsome leather shoulder bag.

"Nothing we do is ruddy warranted, Prongs," Sirius murmured as he washed his face. "That's why we're us."

"We're also very modest," Peter interrupted in a deadpan voice.

"Modesty is only for those who can't perform," Sirius announced momentously as he strode out of the bathroom. "Luckily, I have no need for it."

"And we're back to this again," Peter sighed as he, too, entered the dorm. "No point in reminding him that there's no evidence of this and that the farthest he's ever gone is a peck on the cheek."

"Oi! I've snogged a girl once before. I just didn't tell you lot."

"Why am I finding that hard to believe?" James mused as he tossed an old pumpkin pasty wrapper over his shoulder and picked up his wand off his trunk.

"The part about him snogging a girl or about him not bragging to us afterwards?"

"Yes."

Laughing, Peter pulled on his black robes and then eyed the closed scarlet curtains on the other side of the room. "I reckon we've given him enough time by now."

"Concord, Pete," James agreed while securing his robes, brandishing his wand, and gesturing to the others to join him in front of the closed curtains of Remus's bed. "On the count of three then, gents? One…"

"Two…."

"Three!"

"EURGH!" Remus cried as his mattress flipped over, and he was flung onto the floor headfirst with a grand thud.

"Sirius?" James requested. "Will you do the honors?"

"It'd be an honor, Prongs," answered Sirius with a nod. "You did ask for this Moony," he announced to Remus before raising his wand. "Aguamenti!"

"ACK! Bloody hell!"

Leering, the three boys walked over to the soaking wet werewolf in striped pajamas on the floor and crouched before him.

Blearily, Remus wiped away his wet hair from his forehead and opened his eyes to look at their smirking faces. "I ruddy hate you all."

"Excellent!" James replied back cheerfully. "Now get up! Breakfast!"

"I really do hate you all."

Sirius groaned loudly through his mouthful of eggs. "Remus, mate, sing me another tune. This one is as old as Merlin's Troubadours. Bloody hell! Now, I have 'Just Get That Sword (Out of That Rock)' stuck in my head. Damn you, Remus!"

"Just eat your potatoes, Sirius," James advised. "You know how your brain can only process one activity at a time."

"Funny," Sirius grumbled as he nevertheless attacked his potatoes with his fork.

"Always," commented James lightly as he exchanged grins with Peter.

"Why do I put up with you all?" muttered Remus, looking up at the dismally gray sky depicted on the ceiling of the Great Hall.

"Because getting no friends is far too much effort," answered Peter. "How'd you rate his mood now?"

"Slightly different harmony, but still the same tune," James replied as he mused over his bacon. "We've got to change your perspective."

"Bollocks to perspective," interjected Sirius, washing down some potatoes with a mouthful of pumpkin juice. "What he really needs is a good shag – Oi!"

"Say it with me, Pete."

"Warranted," James and Peter sang together.

"Oh, shut it already," Remus demanded snappishly. "Can't today just be a sodding Thursday like all the rest?"

"I happen to like Thursdays," Peter said.

"Quidditch practice," James agreed chirpily.

"Only one day till Friday," added a smirking Sirius.

Remus groaned and hung his head over his empty plate. "You know what I ruddy mean. Stop making it such a production."

"But we always turn things into a production."

"We're Marauders."

"We maraud."

"Is that a verb?"

"It is now."

"Do you have the power to do that?"

"Please, I'm James Potter. I have the power to do anything."

"Except get a date with Evans."

"Thanks, Pete, I really needed to be reminded of that."

"Just trying to help!"

"Guys!" Remus snapped in exasperation.

"What?" asked Sirius.

"Can we please just have a quiet breakfast?" requested Remus beseechingly.

"I don't reckon I've ever been quiet before."

"Once when you were a baby, Sirius. It was nice," James quipped quickly.

"Eh, how do you like that?" Sirius snickered as he held up his pumpkin juice. "Cheers!"

"Cheers!" Peter and James repeated in unison as they, too, held up their goblets.

"Celebrating already?"

The boys stopped snickering and looked up to see the looming face of Lily Evans. Her uniform was meticulously proper – even if her skirt was a bit short – her long red hair was pulled carefully out of her eyes, and her green eyes were cautiously pleasant.

Remus groaned.

"Buck up there, Remus," said Sirius, clapping his friend on the shoulder. "You're griping already, and we haven't even told you about the party."

"Party?" Lily asked with polite interest. "And did McGonagall give permission? It is a Thursday, and all."

"I dunno," replied Sirius mockingly. "Does Slughorn give you permission to tinker with all his private ingredients, or do you just give him some crystallized pineapple and hope he turns the other cheek?"

Lily's haughtiness melted, and her face slowly began to redden.

Sirius barked in laughter and then hissed something to James, who laughed feebly. He then straightened up, slightly puffing out his chest, and mustered up a slight grin.

"All right, Evans?" the boy asked as he fiddled with the back of his hair.

Lily glanced at James dismissively before turning her attention back to Remus. "I'm not sure if a party would be the best idea, Remus. As prefects, we have an obligation – "

"To ruin everyone's fun?" Sirius finished for her.

"To ensure that people stay focused on their studies," Lily finished, as though she had not heard him.

"It won't be anything too extravagant," Peter assured her.

"Yeah," agreed Sirius. "Just your average drunken debauchery. We've planned snacks."

"And party hats."

"And fairies and sugarplums for ickle little Remus's sixteenth birth – "

"Don't worry, Lily, there won't be any parties," Remus assured her as he sent meaningful looks to his friends, especially Sirius.

Lily grinned and flipped her neatly combed hair over her shoulder. "Not that I dislike parties, of course," she continued. "I'm always up for some fun."

"Tease," Sirius coughed into his pumpkin juice.

Lily's smile turned saccharine and she pulled her wand out of the pocket of her robes. "Awful cough there, Sirius," she commented coolly as she examined her wand. "Want any help with that?"

Sirius smirked at her. "I'm fine, thanks."

"Lovely."

"Say, Lily, how'd you think that Charms – "

The girl ignored James's attempt at capturing her attention and focused her gaze back on Remus. "Now, I know that you asked me not to get you anything extravagant during our rounds the other night."

"Remus, I didn't know you and Evans were together," Sirius commented in a scandalized tone. "Is that why you two are always sneaking off at night?"

"Prefect duties, James," Remus said hurriedly as he saw the knuckles of his friend turn white and his jaw tighten. "Sirius is just being a prat."

"So basically he's being himself," Lily added with a tired sigh.

"Ahh, that was brilliant, Evans!" Sirius congratulated her. "You're so fit when you're vicious."

Lily rolled her eyes. "Anyway, Remus, I picked up something for you over the weekend. It's nothing big, so you don't have to fret. I just felt like I ought to get you at least a little something." She pulled out a small package wrapped in blue paper and handed it to him.

Remus smiled thankfully at her. "That was very kind of you, Lily." He unwrapped the paper to reveal a pack of waterproof fireworks.

"Wow! Thanks, Lily!" Remus breathed as he examined the kit with mischief in his eyes.

"Oi, Evans, is this actually a good present?"

Lily rolled her eyes. "I thought you could use a bit of a cheer, Remus. You've seemed a bit down lately. I thought the fireworks might help. Besides, I know you'll use discretion," she added with a mischievous wink of her own.

"Well, I'll be damned," Sirius commented in awe.

She smiled warmly at Remus and swooped down to give him a swift kiss on the cheek. "Happy – you know," she amended quickly as she gleamed the sour turn of his features. "Well, I'll see you at Transfiguration."

"And tomorrow night for patrolling."

"Right! Can't forget that. Yes, well, have a nice day!"

She turned slightly as she made to walk away, but James stood up suddenly to block her.

"So, Evans, I was wondering if you'd seen the latest news about the Quidditch – "

"Not now, Potter," Lily dismissed him brusquely. "Go practice speaking in front of the mirror some more." She pivoted to give Remus one last friendly wave before disappearing down the opposite end of the table.

Dejected, James sat back down next to Peter. "Bollocks," he grumbled under his breath.

Opposite him, Remus enthusiastically began to inspect the fireworks. "There's one that takes the form of a dragon," he commented.

"Figures it's from Red," Sirius replied.

"You know," James said to himself as he eyed Lily, her skirt swaying a bit as she walked away. "I reckon she is a tease."

"And he finally sees reason!" Sirius muttered.

"Oi, Moony! What are you staring at?"

"Er, nothing," Remus said quickly as he tore his eyes away from the Ravenclaw table. "Sorry, I got distracted for a bit." He went back to examining the fireworks.

"He's just daydreaming about setting those off," Peter commented. "Can you imagine if they had one shaped like Dumbledore?"

"Or of Prongs's face when Evans just kissed Remus?"

"Do you think she'd go out with me if I got a tattoo? A lion maybe? Birds like that sort of thing, yeah?"

Remus chuckled to himself as he took a swig from his pumpkin juice.

"What's got you so cheerful?" James demanded sourly.

"Things have finally gotten back to normal," Remus answered.

Then, he, Sirius, and Peter broke out into guffaws.

James sighed, rolled his eyes, but then offered a few weak chuckles. "Warranted," he admitted.

"Why is it that you and your friends always tardy to my class, Mr. Lupin?" Professor McGonagall demanded briskly as Remus nudged his way into his seat next to James in the fourth row. He tried to keep his face innocent and wished James would do the same instead of trying to capture the attention of Lily, who was seated by a few other girls in the row in front of them. "Is there some meeting of which I am not aware that occurs before all of my O.W.L Transfiguration class?"

Remus opened his mouth to respond, but he was bypassed by the voice of his foolish friend.

"Nothing is more important than seeing your face every morning, Professor."

McGonagall's eyes narrowed as she pursed her lips. "Sit down, Mr. Black," she said tersely at the smirking boy. "There's no time for you when the rest of the class has O.W.L.s to prepare for."

"What about my preparations, Professor?" Sirius asked.

"We shall have to wait for you to take your lessons seriously before anyone worries about that, Mr. Black."

Remus could see a twinkle in Sirius's gray eye, so he promptly stomped on his friend's foot.

"Oi! Bloody hell!"

"Mr. Black!"

"Er, sorry, Professor," Sirius apologized quickly. "Won't happen again."

She sighed; her lips were getting thinner by the second. "Indeed."

"We're very sorry, Professor," added Remus.

"Isn't that always the case, Mr. Lupin? As a member and a prefect of my house, I hope that you could show more restraint, but you always seem to succumb to the idiotic schemes of Mr. Black. I would put you four in detention tonight – "

"Oh, please don't, Professor!" pleaded Peter. "It's Remus's – "

"Mr. Pettigrew!"

"C'mon! Please, Professor!" James insisted loudly as he stood up from his chair. "We've got Quidditch practice tonight. We've got to prepare if we're going to win the game!"

"If you'll let me finish, Mr. Potter," continued McGonagall, "I was about to see that detention doesn't seem to do any good. An essay on my desk next class about switching spells, please."

The boys nodded and sat down at their desks as McGonagall walked over to her desk. "And, Mr. Potter?" she called.

James's messy head shot up.

"Make sure we win. Professor Flitwick will not stop boasting about his keeper's new broom."

James grinned and fiddled with the back of his hair. "Just for you, Professor," he promised.

McGonagall took a deep breath and took her wand out of her robes. "Now, as I was saying before we were rudely interrupted, the important thing to remember when performing a switching spell is that concentration on the form is essential. The idea must be solidified in your mind in order for the spell to cast correctly. Now, who can explain what the key points to focus on are? Ahh, yes, Miss Cavanagh."

Remus quietly took out a roll of parchment and a quill from his bag as the blonde spouted off a textbook response to the question. He was jotting down a few notes when Sirius leaned over James and hissed in his ear.

"Got an extra quill, mate?"

Rolling his eyes, Remus reached back into his bag and fished out another quill.

"Thanks, mate. You're the best."

"Wish I could say the same for you."

With a secret smile, Remus ignored the melodramatic look of hurt on Sirius's face and focused back on what McGonagall was saying about wand movements.

"Merlin," Remus heard Sirius hiss to James. "What crawled up his ass?"

James shrugged. "I guess it's the whole birth – OW!"

Professor McGonagall stopped her lecture abruptly. "Mr. Potter?"

"Nothing, Professor. Sorry."

Quickly, Remus shifted his leg back underneath his desk and sat up a bit straighter.

Moony!

Aww, c'mon, Moonshine, write back.

My name is Remus John Lupin, and I'm incapable of returning a note properly. I also have a stick up my ass the size of

Sirius, now you're distracting me.

James, mate, it's ruddy History of Magic. Not even Urg the Unclean cares about the Goblin Wars anymore.

Yeah, I suppose that's true.

Moony! Moony! Moony! Moony! Moony! Moony! (sung to a catchy jazz beat not unlike Lancelot (He's Got Your Girl)).

You're very musical today.

What can I say? It's in my blood.

I thought your blood was filled with muggleborn hating haughtiness and a certain ardor for the decapitation of elves?

No. I think you have me confused with the impotency running through your veins. Perhaps I should tell Evans about your "condition."

Fine! Fine! Warranted. Merlin, you can't make a joke around here anymore. Also, Sirius, stop writing in color changing ink. All the flashing is giving me a headache.

(Apologize to McKinnons for me). Moony, mate! If you were really my friend, you'd reply (taste the peer pressure! It tastes like triumph – and Firewhiskey!).

I'll send a howler with the next one.

Oh, mate, sorry about your nose there. Don't worry. Parchment doesn't sting THAT much when it cuts.

He looks like he's crying. Am I the only one who sees tears?

No, Pete, I definitely spotted some too. Very manly and stoic tears. The tears of champions and five-year-old girls. Woah, Sirius! Ever heard of a thing called aim? That was pathetic. You nearly took out McKinnons with that last one. It's a good thing I won't let you on my Quidditch team.

Oi! Since when is it your Quidditch team (not that I want to be on it anyway because I have too much dignity for that)?

Ever notice how Sirius avoids things by just dismissing them?

Oh, Wormtail, you would say that. And Padfoot, the team will be mine next year. McGonagall's bound to make me captain. You heard her today in class. I wonder what else what we can get away with when the fate of the Gryffindor Quidditch team rests on my shoulders…

Okay, well good luck with the ickle second year try-outs then. Make sure you kiss their booboos and dry their tears like you're the ruddy mum. Bloody hell. What's with all my mates wanting positions of authority?

I don't want one, Sirius.

Be nice.

Wormtail, that's only because no one would be daft enough to give you one.

What part about nice do you not understand?

The "nice" part.

Did anyone catch what Binns just said about ancient armor? Oh, and did he say that Homer had a crystal ball or that he hosted a crystal ball?

I think he said that he had a magical fall. I don't really know, though. We should ask

MOONY! Answer me.

Moony!

Please!

Answer, and I'll stop chucking notes at you.

What do you want, Sirius? Besides a brain to fill up all the empty space in your skull.

Ahh, Moony, this is why I love you.

Thanks, and I love you all very dearly, but I think Binns might ACTUALLY be lecturing on something somewhat important today. We should probably pay attention.

Why? It's BINNS, Moony. He's the second most boring person on the planet.

Is that a veiled insult meaning that I am the most boring person on the planet?

See, Remus? All that notetaking really does make you smarter.

Thanks, James.

It's amazing how he can even make gratitude sound vicious on the page. Do you reckon sarcasm causes ink to run?

He's been "blessed" with a definite skill. My mum's got it too. Though, she could make bloody bunny rabbits evil.

Bunny rabbits? I highly doubt that.

I swear on Merlin's beard, Prongs. Floppy, fuzzy, furry bunnies….but evil.

That makes little to no sense.

Your face makes little to no sense.

Sirius, that was weak.

Agreed. Maybe if you stopped sending notes during all of your classes something would actually sink into that thick skull of yours. That is, if it hasn't already completely figured out how to rebound logical thinking. Oh, and, Peter, Professor Bins said that Homer made the first wizarding role call. You know, Hector, son of Priam, and negative Sirius's brain cells count amount of others.

Oh, thanks. I knew it was something like that.

No problem. Now, could you please stop chucking notes near the vicinity of my head? I've already had to apologize to Marlene about six times.

It's not my fault you've got a puny head. Maybe you should swap with Prongs. He's got no such problem.

Oi! That's completely – warranted. Damn. I keep having to go up a size in glasses.

I only speak the truth, mate.

He's like a sodding pensieve that keeps repeating the same memory over and over again. Only, no one asked to hear it the FIRST time.

I definitely didn't.

Feeling the love, mates. Maybe Remus will say something nice about me.

Stop tossing the note to me, you bloody wanker.

I'm not sure if I would really call it a note anymore. It's getting rather extensive, yeah?

Longer than most of the essays I've written.

That's just sad.

Are you kidding me? That's bloody brilliant! Who wouldn't want to get away with doing as little work as possible?

Have you ever considered that the work is here for us to learn something?

All I know is that whenever I put my all into something, I still seem to have bollocks for luck.

You know, the Great Lake is looking a little empty. Why don't you shed your tears into it?

Melodramatic.

Evans will come around, James (I'm going on a lark and presuming you're talking about Evans. If you're not, I'll buy you a case of Firewhiskey. But I think the odds are in my favor).

She's like my dream deferred.

…..?

I've read a poem. Try not to faint.

I'm actually a tad impressed, James.

Cheers, Moony!

Ugh. I'm so bored. There should be rules about ghosts teaching lessons. Rule #1: They can't be so ruddy boring that even just not paying attention is painful. Rule #2: Just don't do it.

Agreed.

Wormtail, NOW you make sense.

Rule #4: Only teach brilliant subjects like Advanced Sarcasm. Rule #5: Blow off lessons.

Oi, have you noticed that Binns can't actually turn pages? How do you think he reads? Or maybe he just spends his immortality memorizing this. Day 11,762 of being dead: I thought about eating a sandwich and realized I couldn't.

Could you really imagine it? You wake up one day, look down, go "Damn, I'm a transparent bloke!" and then keep teaching this sodding subject. That's when you know.

Know what, Prongs?

That you are in dire need of friends, mate. Dire need.

Couldn't agree more.

Still, the ghost thing is pretty cool. I'd definitely like to try it out for a little. What about you guys?

Oh, my turn? I was surprised it got sent to me seeing that Sirius has been ripping this thing out of everyone's hands. Well, I guess if I was a ghost, I'd probably choose something else to do with my time. There's loads I never get the chance to do because I'm too busy putting up with my "mates."

He says that like he disapproves or something.

He's just cranky because it's his…..oi! Remus! No need to try to scorch the parchment!

Bloody hell! I think he almost caught my hair.

And Merlin forbid that ever happen.

Jealously is not becoming on you, Prongs.

I believe we were discussing ghosts? (My way of getting you two berks to stop the pissing contest and segway back into a quasi-normal conversation).

Yeah! Can you imagine how many pranks we could pull off if we were ghosts?

Well, don't just run off and die, Prongs.

Please, Moony. You'd miss me too much. I'd have to constantly follow you around, or you'd just curl up in depression. I'd just scoot on close to you and whisper sweet nothings in your wolfy ear.

Yeah, man crush, but if we were ghosts, we couldn't eat food.

Damn. That's a definite setback. Treacle tart and oxygen are pretty important to me.

I would probably pull a Myrtle and end up haunting a girls' loo. Except, I wouldn't be the one –

There is nowhere that sentence could go where that would be good.

Moaning.

That was DEFINITELY warranted.

Yeah. But my left foot is never going to stop bleeding internally.

That's why you have two feet.

You know, I reckon if Sirius was a ghost, they'd have to find a way to off him twice just to get him to stop being such a sodding prat.

Not that they've found a way yet.

Truer words, my friend. Truer words.

Huh?

Just go with it, Wormtail.

Okay, then. Did he just start talking about the invention of the wheel? Merlin, I hope this class ends soon.

Maybe that's Binns's ultimate plan. He wants to kill us all with boredom so we can be his ghost students. Mwahahaha! (I'm doing an evil laugh).

No. He'd force us into an army of inferi. Creepy zombie students!

Nice, Moony! I'm so proud of the way your mind works. If only you used it for evil….

Yeah. Creepy zombie students who are still bored out of their ROTTING minds.

Finally! Why weren't you guys passing the note to me?

Because your aim is for shit.

Yeah. You're going to have to buy McKinnons something the next time we go to Hogsmeade.

Speaking of which, how about a trip Thursday? I have a hankering for a Sugar Quill.

You're just hoping that Evans sees you sucking on it and gets jealous.

And that is why we don't pass you the note, Padfoot.

After Professor Binns finally ceased his painfully droll lecture on wizards in Ancient Greece, the boys were free from lessons for the day. Even more fortunately for Remus, he had an appointment with Madame Pomfrey that afternoon, and the rest of the Marauders were actually going to leave him alone.

The chances were good that Poppy had not forgotten Sirius's little debacle from last Thursday. Remus knew he probably should have prevented the incident, but he was just too curious to see whether or not Sirius could really pull off making all the bedpans regurgitate.

Thus, Remus found himself blissfully alone as he jaunted towards the Hospital Wing for a routine checkup.

Wanting to keep his lycanthropy a secret from the three students in the white beds with varying degrees of nauseated expressions, Madame Pomfrey escorted him into her office, and she pulled out his chart.

She used her wand to take his temperature and to find his pulse – both of which were in normal range.

"How are you feeling?" she asked him tersely after she waved her wand to ignite the candles. As she waited for him to reply, she dipped her quill into some black ink.

"Fine."

"A little more description, please, Mr. Lupin."

Wearily, Remus eyed the row of Skele-Grow bottles in a cabinet behind her desk. He pushed his hair back away from his eyes and ignored her piercing gaze, as though she was scanning his body for deformities. "A little tired, I suppose. That could just be from all the school work," he added to soften the symptom; unfortunately, nothing could hide the bags under his eyes. "Nothing too bad."

"Muscle soreness?"

"Not really. Everything is a bit tender, but I guess that's just the usual case with the full moon coming up." Remus crossed his arms over his chest and ignored the pain in his right shoulder from a recent injury that had yet to heal.

Madame Pomfrey nodded and continued filling out her chart.

"Any dietary concerns?"

"Not a one."

"No hankering for anything raw?"

"Not unless the house-elves serve a lot of ketchup with it."

"Any nausea?"

"Only when I'm around my friends."

The scratching stopped abruptly. "What was that?"

"Oh, er, nothing. No nausea."

"And what about the transformations themselves? Any difference from last year?"

Remus sighed tiredly and pinched the bridge of his nose. He took a deep breath and then began. "I suppose I'm fully grown now. Not that anyone's really in the position to measure. The transformations, well, they're more painful now than they've been before. The wolf, he's….I'm bigger, more powerful. I feel the bloodlust and the, uh, need to escape from the shack more. All the furniture's been completely shredded by now, so the wood on the floor's been getting pulled apart. I've been biting myself a great deal more. I get hungry, and I think my….fangs have developed completely."

Remus stopped talking and stared back at the bottles of Skele-Grow.

"Yes, that sounds about right. Usually at sixteen is when maturation hits. Any hair problems?"

Remus coughed. "Uh, no."

"Any odd urges?"

"Just the usual ones, I reckon," Remus answered as he looked down at his shoes and wished he was back listening to Professor Binns. "Seek and destroy and eat all the furry little bunnies." Remus forced his features into a grin.

"Okay, excellent. Well, Mr. Lupin, it appears that everything is in order."

"Brilliant," Remus replied as he got up from his chair.

"Don't forget to get here at 4PM sharp night week so that I can escort you to the Whomping Willow."

"I won't," the boy replied as he neared the door to her office. "Not exactly something you forget."

"Hold on a tic, Mr. Lupin. I have something for you."

Remus's Adam's apple lurched in his throat as she started rifling around in her cabinet drawers. Experience in the Hospital Wing had taught him surprises were never a good thing. They usually involved pain.

"Ah! Here we are!" Madame Pomfrey announced with her back turned as she pulled something out of the drawer. "For you."

Remus's jaw went slack as he grasped the slab of Honeydukes chocolate she offered him. "Oh, um, thank you."

"I figured since you were coming in for your annual checkup, I should get you something for your – "

"Thanks, but I'm not really in the mood to celebrate."

Madame Pomfrey nodded. "Yes, well, chocolate has excellent healing powers. It's a wonderful remedy for victims of a Dementor attack."

"I'll remember that. Thanks, Madame Pomfrey. I really appreciate it."

Madame Pomfrey nodded briskly as she stowed away his extensive chart. "Go on, boy. I have plenty of work to do. Be here at 4PM."

"Sharp," Remus replied with a nod. "Er, thanks again!"

She waved him away, and Remus briskly left the Hospital Wing.

Even after Remus finished his truly scrumptious chocolate bar, his stomach was still gurgling with hunger so he decided to make a quick trip to the kitchens to grab an early dinner.

He passed by a bunch of girls and passed them quietly as he diverted his gaze. He thought he saw dark hair, but as he craned his neck back to look, he ended up knocking into a suit of armor.

"Prat," Remus scolded himself as he wished that the clang had not been very audible. He gingerly massaged his twinging nose.

Suddenly, he heard the unwanted sound of cackling.

"Metal got your conk! Walked right into him you did!"

"Brilliant," Remus grumbled to himself as he shoved his hands in his pockets and grabbed his wand. "Evening, Peeves."

"Loony, loopy Lupin! Loony, loopy Lupin!" the poltergeist, whizzing around gleefully, sang back.

"Wonderful, we know my name, and that apparently I can't see what's right in front of me. May I help you?" asked Remus.

"Cranky panky, you'll get spanky."

Remus's fingers clenched around his wand. "Can we speed this up, mate?"

Peeves's eyes went wide, and he started to zoom around the corridor, knocking over suits of armor as he went.

"Oi! Stop!"

Peeves stuck out his tongue and knocked down another suit of armor so that it clanked loudly against the tiled floor. "Loony, loopy prefect Lupin!"

"Yeah, Peeves. I'm a prefect now. I'm not supposed to put up with your antics anymore."

Peeves blew a raspberry at him. "Dodgy, podgy, stuffy, and stodgy. Loopy's all prim, and now there's no party."

Sighing, Remus looked up at Peeves. He really shouldn't, but he didn't want to hurt Peeves, even if it was just Peeves. "Look, I'll make you a deal. Next time we prank something, we'll find you and you can join in, yeah? We've got plans for the Slytherins coming up. It's been too long since we've dyed their hair."

The poltergeist deliberated as he flew in circles around Remus in fast circles.

"I'll even tell Sirius, James, and Peter that you said 'hi.'"

Peeves grinned impishly before he, still hooting maniacally, zoomed down the corridor. "Loony, loopy Lupin!"

"Wicked. See you, petty, pervy Peeves!" Remus called out to him with a smile.

Shaking his head to himself, Remus continued to progress through the corridor and tickled the pear so that it giggled.

The house-elves were as eager as they always were. Remus was so stuffed with steak and potatoes that his trousers were beginning to feel a bit too tight. After graciously refusing several offers for another piece of treacle fudge, he left the kitchens with another piece wrapped up and resting in his bag between his rolls of parchment and his copy of Standard Book of Spells: Grade Five.

It was only a bit after seven o'clock, and Remus knew he had far too much work to do before he could call it a night if he was going to get all his work done without having to pull an all-nighter at some point; unfortunately, though they got just about the same marks, Remus had to put a great deal more effort into his lessons than Sirius and James.

Besides, it was likely that his friends were not back at the Gryffindor Tower yet. Despite the coldness of the March weather, James was probably still at Quidditch practice learning new drills for the upcoming match, and he was fairly certain that Peter and Sirius had been scheming about feeding all the owls in the owlery red and gold confetti for a surprise treat for everyone's heads tomorrow morning.

Thus, Remus decided to head off to the library.

It was fairly empty for this time of night. Remus assumed most people had skived off work for the night and were procrastinating until the weekend. He meandered through the mostly vacant tables until he found his favorite round table near the back.

Remus quietly pulled out the chair that faced the stacks of books and away from the central area of the library and draped his robes over his chair before he sat down. He pulled everything except the fudge out of his bag and spread it out in front of him on the table in neat piles. He looked at his textbooks and debated what he should do first. He had a Herbology essay due Monday, a Defense Against the Dark Arts assignment to look up and perform properly three new defensive jinxes for Tuesday, and he had to read the next chapter of Charms by tomorrow. Oh, and he had that bloody essay to write for McGonagall besides all of the other Transfiguration work she had assigned.

Sighing, he reached for a roll of parchment. He might as well get the switching spells out of the way. He rolled up the sleeves to his white uniform shirt, and, about twenty minutes later, he had an essay. It wasn't very well written because he mostly rambled on about everything he could recall her saying in class, but it would do for an extra assignment. Most likely, it would be better than the versions Sirius and James made of it after inevitably they "looked it over."

Deciding he had had enough of Transfiguration for the night, Remus slouched in his chair and grabbed his Charms textbook so that he could read the chapter on color changing charms. The primary example used was changing a rat from brown to yellow. It was scintillating stuff.

Remus ran a hand from the base of his chin, over his mouth and nose, and through his hair. He closed his eyes and counted out five beats before focusing back on the book.

The color changing charm has many useful purposes. While useful in concealment, it can also help to distinguish certain items from others. Additionally, proper mastering of the color changing charm can prove to be very helpful in human transfiguration because the basic form is the same. One must concentrate firmly on the separate parts until the sum of the whole becomes disparate from said parts. For example, in the case of the brown rat, to turn the creature yellow, one must….

Remus rolled his eyes and pictured what Peter would say if he asked his friend to aid him with his Charms homework. Of course, the fastest way to make rat Peter turn yellow would be to have Sirius bark at him.

Remus started chuckling to himself at the ridiculous image floating around in his mind.

"Something amusing?"

Remus quickly turned his head around to look at what he had thought had been his own secluded corner of the library until he saw a familiar face smiling at him from a square table a few meters away.

"Oh, nothing," said Remus, feeling very stupid as he tried to hide his embarrassment at getting caught laughing to himself in the library. "Just been in the library too long, is all," he added quickly.

"I know the feeling," the girl agreed as she held up what looked like a very dull, dusty book.

Not knowing quite what else to say, Remus pressed his lips together, nodded, and then turned his attention back to his book.

For example, in the case of the brown rat, to turn the creature yellow, one must concentrate on the individual…

Surreptitiously, Remus glanced over his shoulder back at the girl. Her name was Stella Jones. She was a year below him and in Ravenclaw. Sirius had mentioned her sometime before. It was probably because she was very pretty. Remus watched as her lips formed words as she was reading.

Shaking his head slightly, Remus forced his eyes back on his textbook.

For example, in the case of the brown rat, to turn the creature yellow, one must concentrate on the individual aspects of the rat: the paws, the nose, the stomach, the anterior, the….

Her dark hair had fallen into her eyes. Remus didn't understand how she could possibly read with all that hair blocking her vision. How could she possibly see the text? Her lips were still moving, but how could she be reading?

Remus froze as she reached out to brush back her hair and her blue gaze lifted to his eyes. He stared back at her for much too long before he realized what he had been caught doing and forced his eyes back on his book.

For example, in the case of the brown rat, to turn the creature yellow, one must concentrate on the individual aspects of the rat: the paws, the nose, the stomach, the anterior, the legs, the eyes. Once one has all these individual images in mind, one must forget that they exist as part of the essence of the rat. Instead, one must visualize the sum of the parts as being something different – in this case, something yellow…

This was getting completely absurd. Perhaps he should move tables. Remus growled in frustration and propped his book up with determination.

For example…

Stella was no longer sitting at her table. Where had she gone?

Remus looked up as he heard the light clicking of footsteps. He startled a bit when he saw Stella's face looming over him.

"I'd understand if you need to concentrate, but I always seem to work better around people. Would you mind if I joined you?"

Remus shook his head furiously. "No, uh, that would be fine, Stella."

She dropped her bag down onto the opposite side of the table and smiled as she sank down into the chair. "Thanks, Remus. I was going mad over there with Runes."

"Yeah. I never took it, but I've heard they can be pretty nasty."

Mentally, Remus berated himself for not having anything cleverer to say.

"Nasty is exactly the word," agreed Stella. As she reached out for her book, more dark hair fell into her eyes.

Remus wanted to reach across the table and push it back.

"Right?"

He blinked and tore his focus away from her hair and towards her lips. He shook his head. "Umm, what? Could you repeat that? Sorry."

"Oh, I was just saying how you probably have it ten times worse with O.W.L.s coming up."

"Yeah."

Stella bit her lip and forced her features into a dismissive sort of smile.

Grinding his teeth together in self-loathing, Remus turned back to his book.

For example, in the case of the brown rat…

He read the same sentence about six times, but as the words blurred by, he realized that he had not comprehended a syllable of their meaning. Her hair was in her eyes again. She was shivering, but her eyes seem focused on Remus's chair. Remus sat back against his cloak in confusion.

"Are you cold?"

She nodded. "The library can get very chilly at night. I think Pince purposefully stops the fires to try to get us to leave early."

"Here," Remus said as he picked up his cloak.

"Oh, thank – oh."

Remus finished waving his wand, which he had pulled out of his cloak pocket. "Heating charm?" he stated as he eyed the slight disappointment on her face.

Stella smiled primly. "Thanks, Remus."

He grinned and then went back to his book.

For example, in the case of the brown rat, to turn the creature yellow, one must concentrate on the individual aspects of the rat: the paws, the nose, the stomach, the anterior, the legs, the eyes. Once one has all these individual images in mind…

Remus peered up to look at Stella again. With the heating charm doing its job, she had removed her dark robes, and he could almost see white skin peeking out from under her collar.

"Oh, are you leaving?"

Remus looked down to see that he was standing. He was just as surprised as she was by the sudden change in position. "Er, no, I just – I need a book," he invented.

Stella's blue eyes blinked up at him as she seemingly assessed how mental he was. "Okay, then."

"Yeah, I'll be back."

Remus strode swiftly through the stacks until he found a secluded spot in the runes section. He shut his eyes tightly and rested his back against the many books.

His stomach had plummeted onto the floor, and his hands felt sweaty. There was a foreign tightness in his chest quite unlike anything he had ever experienced that strengthened when he pictured Stella Jones's pale skin, bright blue eyes, and dark, dark hair. He swallowed as he thought of her pink lips.

Remus would have been remiss to say that he had not noticed Stella before. He had not known her merely from Sirius's assessment. He'd seen her a few times in the past and had acknowledged that she was very pretty. Of course, there were several girls at Hogwarts who were also very pretty.

However, Remus had become acutely aware that there was something…special about Stella about two weeks ago when he had bumped into her at Honeydukes. She had been about to purchase a bar of dark chocolate when he had met her in line.

She had told him a joke about bowtruckles, and she had been wearing a red top.

Ever since, Remus seemed to see her more and more. He'd spy her writing essays at the library or feeding her owl at the owlery or at dinner in the Great Hall. Just yesterday, she had waved to him as he had left Potions class, and this morning, he had been staring at her during breakfast.

And suddenly, Remus recognized that he had been spending quite a bit of time as of late staring at Stella Jones.

"What are you doing in the Ancient Runes section? I thought you said you didn't take that class."

"Oh, er, you're right. I don't. I just…like books."

Remus wished that some omnipotent force would appear and swallow him whole.

Stella chortled and leaned closer to him to grab a book.

She smelled like hyacinths.

Stella held the book tightly against her chest. "I've noticed. I seem to see you here. I've been seeing you almost everywhere lately, actually."

Remus reached up to rub the back of his neck. Her voice was gentle and yet oppressive. "Yeah, well, small castle."

"Not really."

Remus backed up uncomfortably against the stacks. Now that she was standing so close, he noticed that she had to look up a bit to meet his eyeline. He swallowed nervously and grabbed the first book he saw and held it up. "Well," he offered lamely as he attempted to brush past her.

"Wait," she urged as he grabbed his hand.

Remus quickly slid his sweaty palm out of her grasp but ceased all other movement – even breathing. "Yes?"

"I don't think all these meetings lately have been accidents, Remus. It's just…haven't you noticed anything lately?" she asked with a slight smile playing at her lips. "I mean, something coming from me?"

Remus squirmed. "Like what?"

Stella sighed dejectedly, and her shoulders sank. "I dunno, any signs?"

"Signs? Erm, what exactly?"

She rolled her blue eyes and shook her head at him. Her annoyance turned to amusement, and suddenly she was pulling his face towards hers.

Remus had never kissed anyone before. He was startled for a moment, but then he slowly allowed himself to forget about anything but the feeling of her long, dark hair in his fingers and the soft pressure of her pink lips.

They pulled apart slowly.

Stella laughed lightly as she eyed him. "That was a sign," she told him.

"Oh, well, I – "

"It's okay if you don't feel the same. I just needed to see what it'd be like. Once, you know?"

Remus nodded. He really did.

Only, standing here and kissing Stella Jones wasn't something Remus Lupin was supposed to have – no matter how much he wanted it.

This was reserved for boys who didn't feel the call pulsing through their veins in the middle of the night.

Remus Lupin was a marked man.

Stella's smile faded. "Oh, God, sorry. I'm such an idiot. I'm just going to – "

"Stella, it's not that I don't – it's just, well, complicated. I'm complicated."

A crinkle formed between her eyebrows. Stella placed her hands on her hips defiantly as she waited however impatiently for him to elaborate.

Remus teetered back and forth as he debated how to explain things without actually explaining anything. "I like you, Stella, I really do. I think you've noticed that by now. Only – and please don't think I'm giving you a line – it's not you. You, well, you're perfect."

He chanced a glance again at her simple beauty. Remus wished he could have find out more about her. He had the nagging feeling that he could spend the rest of his life discovering things about Stella Jones.

"But I'm far from it," he compelled himself to continue. "I'm no good for you. I'm no good for anyone. I've got, well, a problem, and it's probably for the best that I never get involved with anyone."

Stella walked forward and reached out to place her hand on Remus's cheek. "You know, Remus, sometimes being happy requires the bravery to let people in."

He kissed her then. Softly and tenderly and in every way he wished he always could before he broke away and sealed his fate.

The tips of Remus's lips perked poignantly. He slid Stella's hand off of his face and held it between his own. "You wouldn't like the monster inside. Trust me."

Stella took a couple of steps backwards. "Seems kind of bizarre that you're ditching me before we even begin."

"I know." Remus hated himself. He was so desperate for people to accept him, and there he was turning a possible candidate away. could not handle that look from anyone ever again…especially from Stella.

"You should get back to your friends. They're probably waiting to start the festivities. Sixteen, right?"

"How'd you – "

"March 10, two years ago, remember? Sirius filled the sky in the Great Hall with all those balloons that released slime when they popped?"

"How could I forget?"

"Well, I didn't. Don't be cross with your friends. They see the good in you, just like I do – even if you don't."

Unable to say anything, Remus stayed as still as though someone had casted a permanent sticking charm on him.

Stella walked away from him; her dark hair bounced against her back with every step. She turned around once before she reached the end of the row of books. "See you around, Remus."

"Good bye, Stella."

And with a parting smile, she was gone.

The walk back to the Gryffindor Tower was quiet. Remus's thoughts were muddled. He was relieved when he made it to the Fat Lady's portrait.

"Ad quod damnum," Remus announced before she could say anything.

The portrait swung open, and he climbed into the Gryffindor common room. He passed by a few people lounging on arm chairs by the fire or talking with their friends.

"Remus, mate, fancy a game of Wizard's Chess?"

"No thanks, Frank. I think I'll just kip upstairs. I'm feeling kind of drained."

"Okay, night, then."

"Night, Frank."

Sluggishly, Remus climbed up the many stairs until he reached his dormitory. With a sigh, he opened the door and walked inside.

"No, I'm telling you, Sirius, Lestrange won't make a difference. Our keeper's too good. Oi, Remus! You're back!"

Remus removed his bag from his shoulder and placed it beside his trunk along with his cloak. "'Lo, mates." He sat down on his bed as he took off his shoes and looked around the dorm.

Apart from the fact that Peter had actually made his bed, it looked as normal as ever. "No grand party?" he asked feebly.

"We're waiting till next weekend. We're going to throw a huge bash for you and Prongs," Peter announced.

"You know, to take the edge off. Merlin forbid you be the center of attention," Sirius drawled.

"Sirius reckons we should actually buy you a rabbit to cheer you up."

Remus laughed and shook his head at Peter. "I'm allergic."

Still wearing his Quidditch gear, James pivoted the wooden chair he was straddling in Remus's direction. "Where've you been, Moony?"

"Library."

"Ugh, did you remember an extra jumper?" asked Sirius, who was lounging upside down on James's bed. "I swear that woman turns off all the fires. Part of the reason why I have the sense to avoid such places. Pince keeps it as frigid as she is."

Remus chuckled quietly. "I've heard that before."

Disgruntled from the loss of originality, Sirius flipped over onto his stomach. "Yeah, from who?"

"Uh, Stella Jones," answered Remus as he undid his tie and threw it onto of his trunk.

"The little sister of Hestia Jones?" Sirius pressed. "Damn, Prongs, do you remember Hestia? Merlin, she was fit."

"The Prewett twins thought she was too," James added with a snicker.

Sirius sighed. "She had to be three years older."

"You mean you had to be three years younger," Peter corrected him with a smile as he winked at James.

"She kissed me."

"Yeah, right," Sirius scoffed. "If she'd have kissed anyone, it would've been me."

"Not Hestia," Remus rebuked as he leaned forward on his knees and rested his face on his hand. "Stella."

"Really?" James asked as he rocked his chair forward.

"Really."

"Well, how was it?" demanded Sirius, now sitting upright on the bed. "Merlin, I can't believe you're the first one of us to snog a bird."

"Aha! You admit it! You haven't snogged anyone!"

"Stuff it, James. Moony's talking."

"It was….great. Really great, actually. It was rather wonderful."

"So are you going with her to Hogsmeade now?" Peter inquired.

"Yeah," added Sirius. "You should show her the passage with the witch's hump. I reckon nobody else knows about it."

"You did ask her out, right, Remus?" asked James.

Remus sighed and flopped backwards onto his bed. "No."

"No?"

"So what, she'd ask you out?"

"No."

"I'm confused."

"Right there with you, Pete."

"Remus, mate," said James gently. "Don't you like her? I mean, I've reckon I've heard you talk about her a couple of times before."

"Sure I like her," replied Remus, muffled by the fact that his face was pressed into his pillow. "Doesn't change anything, though."

"Does she like the Chudley Cannons?" James asked knowingly with pity.

Remus chuckled and sat up. "No, James. She just deserves someone who doesn't want to slit everyone's throats twelve times a year."

"Remus!"

"No, it's fine. I'm just going to go take a shower."

Remus let the water fall until it became so cold that it hurt as it pelted against his back. He wrapped a towel around his waist and then walked towards the sink. He smeared the fog on the mirror and stared at his reflection for a while.

He saw a teenage boy of sixteen with sandy hair, thin lips, and blue eyes with purplish bags under them. He sighed as he eyed the light scars decorating his face and then tore his eyes away from his image.

He shimmied into his striped pajamas and then walked back into the dorm.

His three friends were waiting for him in front of his bed.

"Sirius, what are you doing with sparklers?"

Sirius waved the igniting wands around, and they changed colors from red to gold to purple and then to blue. "Decorations, mate. I found them in the kit Evans gave you this morning."

James stepped forward and presented Remus with a box wrapped very shoddily in used parchment. "We know you have a strict no presents policy, but we had to get you something anyway."

"It's from all of us," added Peter. "That way you won't have to suffer through three individual openings – the horror."

Remus rolled his eyes but nonetheless took the package from James. He walked over to his bed, sat down, and carefully began to unwrap it. "It's a box," he announced as he flashed the revealed small black object.

"There's something inside the box obviously," whined Peter.

"Huh," Remus commented with feigned surprise. "How thrilling." He opened the box and saw the four figures that were inside.

First, he grabbed the small rat with a tail that wiggled back and forth. "Pete." Next to it, he placed another figure of a shaggy black dog that kept trying to lick Remus's fingers. "This miscreant must be Sirius." The third figure was a miniature stag that kicked its back hooves in excitement and inclined its head and antlers into a sort of bow of acknowledgement. "Aww, a bonny deer."

"Stag!"

Finally, Remus reached in for the last figure. It was a wolf, gray and hairy. Remus turned it around in his hands and watched in fascination as it opens it jaws and howled. It wore a blue collar that had the word "Moony" printed on it.

"See, Moony, it's you!" Sirius said. "We got you all of us!"

Remus snorted quietly. "I guess you did." He cradled the small wolf in his hand and watched it for a few moments. He cleared his throat, and when he finally spoke, it was in a quiet, slow voice. "You know, when I was five, my parents told me I was a werewolf for the first time. My mom was crying too hard, so my dad had to tell me. She ruined her slice of cake."

"The occasion called for cake?" Peter asked.

"It was my birthday."

Remus looked away as he remembered the night. He had been wearing footie pajamas and complaining that Charlie Stevens down the street didn't have a "secret, special room" like he had and wanted to see – only Remus wasn't allowed to show anybody the "secret, special room" so Charlie didn't believe him.

At that point, Remus's mother sat him down at the kitchen table and tried to explain why it was that he needed to have a "secret, special room." She made it as far as saying the word "bit," and then he remembered tears streaming down her face – and his.

Then, his father's voice began to echo inside his head. It sounded just as hollow and dead as it had eleven years ago.

Remus could still hear the accusing voice of his mother ringing in his ears. "It's your fault he did it, John. You're the one who offended him! You should have just let him insult you. Who cares if he knows you're a muggle? But no! You had to strike back. You had to act like a bloody hero, and look where it's gotten us! You're the reason why he destroyed our son!"

Remus remembered wondering when he had been destroyed.

His father had explained to him that they were going to do everything they possibly could to find a cure.

Only, there wasn't a cure, and there probably never would be.

The boys sat awkwardly in silence. Finally, James walked over to Remus and clapped him on the shoulder. "Happy birthday, Remus."

Remus smiled weakly. "Warranted."

James beamed.

The four boys spent the rest of the night telling jokes and setting off the rest of Remus's fireworks. Eventually, only after all of their candles had gone out, Remus wormed his way onto his warm, soft bed.

He placed his four figures by his headboard and watched as they all huddled next to each other in their sleep. The rat was cradled against the stag's hooves as the dog rested on its belly nearby. The wolf was curled up near them all; it seemed, even in sleep, as though it was happy just to have been included.

As Remus snuggled into his covers, he could hear the slight snoring of his three best friends. Smiling, Remus closed his eyes as he prepared for sleep – happy, for once, that it was his birthday.