-Scream-

Snap!

James winced as he heard another bone break.

Pow!

That was an even bigger bone giving out, like a femur or a humerus. A whimper escaped the figure on the floor and he clutched his arm—a humerus, then—but he wouldn't allow any greater noises to escape him.

James knelt down next to his suffering friend, unable to help himself, and reached for the other boy's hand, balled into a fist and pressing into the splintery wooden floor.

"Remus," James said.

Remus Lupin looked up and glared at him.

"James, back away," he gasped. "Back away or transform now."

"It can wait," James said quietly. "I'm safe for the next few minutes." He glanced out the window. The sun had already gone down on the far side of the Shrieking Shack and even as he looked, he saw that damned silvery-white orb peek over the edge of distant trees. Remus was again taken with another spasm, more snaps and cracks accompanying the seizure, as he pressed his forehead into the ground and bit his lip so hard he drew blood. Each of those bones had to break before they could regrow into the wolf's anatomy—a fact that James cursed every single month. Was there nothing that could make this easier for his friend?

Pow!

There was the femur.

"Remus, you can scream," James insisted. "Don't bottle it all up, mate."

"Oh, I'll be letting it all out momentarily," Remus said bitterly. "Just wait for that moon to rise all the way. Now will you hurry up and turn into Prongs?"

James adamantly ignored him, taking more permanent seated position on the floor. Remus groaned with frustration.

"Where's Peter when you need him?" he grumbled. "He could convince you to transform."

"I told you before, Peter's in detention with Sirius since the big idiot got them caught setting off Dungbombs. And the only reason Peter transforms so early is because he's a bloody coward."

"Gee thanks," Remus said drily, his right hand twitching as the wrist gave a sickening pop. "Good to know he's afraid of me."

"You know what I mean," said James briskly, his tone leaving his friend no room for self-deprecation. "The wolf is not you, it's something else, it's—"

"Quite the monster, yes, I know."

"Will you stop that!"

A resounding pop—probably a rib, from the way Remus flinched—was all that answered him. After a few seconds,

"James?"

"Yeah?"

"Thanks." Remus' voice caught and he ducked his head again, this time with embarrassment; James pretended not to have heard it.

"Remus, you can scream."

The other boy just shook his head. A shoulder popped out place as the transformation continued to wreak its havoc but only a whimper escaped.

"Remus, scream."

Another head shake, this one traveling down his spine in another spasm as thick, brown hair sprouted along his arms and multiple bones popped throughout his body.

"Remus, scream!" James shouted.

"No!" Remus shouted back. "Not yet! Not yet! You have to save it for the end!"

That took James aback for a moment as Remus arched his body and his spine gave off a series of nauseatingly high-pitched pops. Save the scream for the end?

"The wolf screams," Remus muttered, by way of explanation. "The wolf is the one who screams. Howling, always howling. You've got to save the screams for the animal. I am a man. I have a will power. And at the end, that's the only way I can exercise it. I won't scream, I won't break—I'll leave that for the thing I become."

"Remus," said James, still kneeling beside him. "I...Remus…"

But he trailed off because, really, what else was there to be said?

"Transform already, you know I won't hurt Prongs." Remus growled. "I can feel it. It's getting into my head now."

It's getting into my head now.

James swallowed. He knew that this was the worst part. Remus had once described it to them and none of the Marauders had ever asked again. Remus' thoughts, consciousness, instincts and desires, memories and abilities, everything that made him him would be violently and swiftly ripped from his mind, only to be replaced with a monster whose one thought was to hunt and one desire was to kill. In short, the transformation of the mind was far worse than whatever excruciating physical changes occurred (Snap!) and James wouldn't wish it on his worst enemy.

But as he watched Remus—good Remus, kind Remus, clever Remus, incredibly brave Remus—curled up on the ground, nails digging into the rough floorboards, blood dripping down his chin from where he'd bitten his lip so many times, James couldn't help but say quietly,

"I'd take it."

"Hm?" Remus grunted, turning his face to James. His nose was bleeding after it had broken and even as James watched, the familiar face was starting to elongate into a terrible snout, the teeth were sharp, and the forehead sloped. By now, only the warm, brown eyes remained the same.

"I'd take it," James said, his voice stronger now. "I'd take it for you, I'd go through the whole thing, every month, I'd switch our places if I could…" he trailed off in his rambling as he saw water gather under Remus' eyes, restrained tears of horrible pain and fierce gratitude. Remus opened his mouth, as if to comment or thank, but a feral growl came out instead.

"Remus…?"

The brown eyes darkened to near-black.

"I'd take it," James murmured again, stepping back away from the werewolf and guiltily transforming, pain-free, into Prongs.

He could only watch as the wolf raised its head, lifting his nose up high towards the rising moon, and howled; screaming out the frustrations of Remus Lupin.