Remus Lupin made his way toward the front of the Hogwarts Express, nervously fingering the badge pinned to his sixth year Prefect's robes. He had just finished patrolling the cars, answering questions from first years returning from Christmas holiday and breaking up a scuffle between a Hufflepuff and a Slytherin. Now he would locate a car for the rest of the ride to Hogwarts, and there was one group of boys that he sought. He figured he might as well find Peter, James, and Sirius now, rather than wait until he saw them at the Gryffindor table in the Great Hall. Remus hadn't heard from his friends over the Christmas holiday, which was surprising in itself, since Sirius was now staying with the Potters. But it was particularly odd given the horrifying prank Sirius had attempted in December, just before school let out. Severus Snape had been lured to the Whomping Willow by Sirius, and he could have been bitten or killed if James had not intervened in time. Remus, who could remember nothing of the incident, was nevertheless tormented by it; during the last few weeks he had had recurrent nightmares of himself as a werewolf attacking the defenseless Severus.

Remus had been frankly appalled that Dumbledore had not punished anyone for the prank. He had fully expected to be expelled, but the headmaster had reminded Remus that it had not been his fault. James and Sirius were not punished, either, which made Remus's cheeks burn hotly whenever he thought of it. Dumbledore had said that the "chafing of their own consciences" would be punishment enough; but Remus knew that the headmaster wanted to protect him from parents who, in hearing about the offense, might have learned that there was a werewolf at Hogwarts. Many parents would have removed their children from the school, and certainly all would have called for Remus's expulsion.

As he passed a car full of Slytherins, he spotted Severus in a corner, not speaking to anyone, his hooked nose buried in a book. Remus's heart lurched and he continued walking toward the front of the train. Dumbledore had sworn all involved, including Severus, to silence; but Severus had refused to hear any of Remus's apologies last month, which only made his conscience ache all the more. Remus cursed and continued trudging along the aisle, his steps heavy and effortful. It was only two days since his last transformation; his skin still felt clammy and his body ached.

Eventually he found James, Sirius, and Peter sitting in uncharacteristic silence in a car near the front of the train. Remus slid open the door and removed his Prefect's robes, suddenly feeling a bit warm. Three pairs of eyes followed him as he stashed the robe above James's trunk, shut the door, and flopped down next to Peter. Across from him, James glanced at Sirius, then turned to stare at the passing scenery. Sirius lowered his head to stare at the fingers clasped in his lap, thumbs tapping together. Peter looked nervously from Remus to the others and back again. There was a full minute of silence as Remus waited for someone to speak. At last, Peter reached across to a paper sack that was sitting next to James. He rummaged though it and withdrew a wrapped sweet.

"Chocolate frog?" Peter offered to no one in particular. When there was no response, Peter cleared his throat, unwrapped the frog, and bit off the protesting head himself. He turned to gaze out the window as he chewed noisily with his mouth open.

Remus watched his friends squirm for a moment or two, then sighed and looked away. His immediate anger at them had worn off since last month; but, even so, a line had been crossed and he couldn't forget what Sirius had tried to do. He was filled with a strange, sickening sensation: he didn't know if things would ever be the same with his friends. He frowned and tried to busy himself with watching other students walking past the cabin door. Never before had such familiar sights seemed so foreign to him.

Finally, Sirius coughed, an abrupt bark that caused everyone in the car to jump. Peter stopped mid-chew and watched his friends, who were now staring at each other again.

"Erm," said Sirius, eyes still lowered.

Remus, remaining silent, watched Sirius carefully pick some lint off his jeans. James crossed his legs and stared out the window again, chewing on his lower lip. Remus could see the trees flitting by in the reflection of his glasses.

"Remus, I – I want to apologize to you," Sirius said quietly, still not meeting his friend's eyes. "What I did was … was irresponsible and wrong."

Remus said nothing.

"And … and I want you to know that I realize what could have happened. What you could have done to him."

Sirius finally met his friend's eyes and they watched each other cautiously for a while, neither one speaking. James turned to look at his friends. Sirius was not often one for apologizing; but he now held Remus's gaze, allowing himself to be scrutinized. Remus studied Sirius's dark grey eyes carefully and said, "Okay."

"I'm sorry, too, mate," James added softly. "I could have let it happen. Almost did. I was an idiot."

"Yeah, you were," Remus agreed.

James's eyes darted toward Sirius, then he said, "We've decided to leave Snivellus alone from now on."

"Unless he starts something with us – " Sirius clarified, glowering at the floor.

"Which is doubtful," James cut in.

The two were silent once more. Remus felt the tightness inside his chest ease a little. He reached across to the bag next to James and took a handful of Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans. Popping two into his mouth, he tasted the surprisingly pleasant combination of lemon and butterbeer.

"I'm sorry we didn't write you, or invite you for Christmas," James went on, taking a cauldron cake for himself. Remus hadn't wanted to ask about their omission, but he was glad when James brought it up.

"We each got an owl from Dumbledore two days after arriving home," Sirius said. "He, er, strongly suggested we volunteer some of our time over the holidays at St. Mungo's Hospital. He said he'd come by to help us."

"Why?" Remus asked, confused.

"He thought it would do us some good." Sirius paused and gruffly cleared his throat. Then, quietly, he added, "Two people were bitten by werewolves last month."

Remus was motionless. That brought last year's total to fourteen victims that he knew of. Registered werewolves, and the people who lived near them, were usually very careful; historically, in the last twenty years, there hadn't been more than four or five new victims per year in all of England. What was happening?

"Do you remember Tristan Kimball?" James asked. "He was a Beater. He graduated four years ahead of us."

"Not him?" Remus said, swallowing. Tristan was a tall, athletic fellow who always had a toothy smile and a kind word for everyone. In fact, he had even tried to help train Remus as a Keeper for the Gryffindor Quidditch tryouts, until finally they both had to admit that Remus's left shoulder was just too weak for that kind of broom flying.

"Yeah," Sirius muttered darkly. "He'd been working as a Healer in St. Mungo's. Everybody there is devastated, to say the least. He was walking home after a late shift last month when he was attacked in an alley."

"In London?" Remus gasped incredulously. Usually attacks happened in more secluded areas; and often the victims were killed, not merely bitten. The boys were silent for several moments.

"There was a little girl, too," James said after a moment, so quietly Remus almost didn't hear him. "Araminta Drury. She's eight. I spent some time with her, and her family – " James's voice caught and he suddenly stopped speaking, staring rigidly out the window again.

Remus felt as if someone had punched him in the throat. He leaned forward onto his elbows, glaring at the floor, blinking hard.

"Why so many?" Peter suddenly piped up. "What's going on?" His small eyes darted from one friend to another.

"I have a feeling I know what's happening," James said hoarsely.

"Voldemort," Remus spat.