First HP fic. Unedited.

He meets them on a cold, bitter night in December, while he's wandering through the darkened castle wishing he could just lay down and sleep and never wake up, because even though it's been two months since the Sorting Hat shouted out 'Gryffindor!' he's never been so scared. The moonlight soaks into the hard stone floors, casting shadows that flitter like ghosts at the edge of his vision; so he sinks down and closes his eyes and doesn't think at all, letting the blankness (white, like a fresh piece of paper) overwhelm him and drown out the pounding of his heartbeat.

He is just beginning to succumb to the fuzzy blackness of sleep when he hears the sounds. There. Footsteps, and a small noise like the rustling of a cloak.

A wave of icy-cold fear washes over him and he surges to his feet, a ragged breath the first sound to issue from his lips in what feels like years (but is really only minutes) and why oh why didn't he think to bring his wand. If it is Dumbledore, or even just a teacher, it will be his undoing. He promised to be on his best behavior, sacrificed his freedom in exchange for a place at a school with no room for monsters.

"All right, there, mate?"

He turns so fast his neck cricks. The pale, scruffy-haired boy's eyes gleam out at him from the shadows, his mouth a slash of color across a face painted white by the light of the moon.

After a moment, he finds his voice. "'Course I'm all right."

A grin spreads across the boy's face, one that looks as natural on him as breathing; like the last piece going into the puzzle, like he's always been that way, grinning. His eyes are startlingly green. Behind him, another figure melts from the shadows, a little taller, a little lankier, a little darker, with eyes that are as black as coal. A smirk plays on his lips, a secret smile meant only for him and the select few who are in on the joke.

"What's your name?"

The twinkle in the dark boy's eyes draws him in, gently coaxes him into loosening his frozen tongue. "R-Remus," he says, and is rewarded as the smirk on the boy's face fades into a real smile, dark and full of mischief.

"I've seen you around here before, you know," the one with the messy black hair says slowly, knowingly. "S'awful lonely out here, all by yourself." The green eyes invite him in, winking at him, seeming to plead with him: Come on. Come have fun with us, come sneak around with us. Loosen up a little. Trust us. Come on. And looking at them, he feels alive in a way he's never felt before—electrifying, thrilling, drunk off the thrill of adventure and the light from the stars. He feels like he's drowning, or maybe he's just spinning; maybe they're all spinning, whirling around and around and around and no one's even noticing it but him. He wants to be like them, wants bathe forever in the thrill of this moment, like every nerve ending is on fire.

A moment passes, ticking with his own rapid heartbeat.

"Wanna come with us?" the first boy asks suddenly, the spark in his eyes waking something that is long-buried inside Remus, and then somewhere in between the question and the seconds that follow he is nodding, the words frozen in his throat and why did he pick now to go mute?

But he doesn't need to use the words, because the boy is beaming at him bright-eyed like he's actually happy that Remus said yes, like he wants to be around him, and all of a sudden Remus feels like the sun is shining despite the pitch-black sky.

"Good. I'm James," the boy says, then jerks a hand towards his friend, "and that's Sirius. Dunno really where we're going…we mostly just snuck out because we could."

But that's all right with Remus, because he doesn't care where they're going or what they're doing or even who catches them, as long as he can drink in the sight of the green-eyed boy and the one with the secret smile. The sight of freedom. In that moment everything clicks, everything falls into place.

And somehow he can't shake the feeling that he's found it. Whatever it is, whatever he was looking for when he came to Hogwarts (and someone must know, because he sure doesn't).

"Well, come on," James says impatiently, grabbing Remus's shirtsleeve and dragging him forward. He takes something large and shiny and cloaklike out from under his jacket, and Remus clamps down on the noise that threatens to come out. It's an Invisibility Cloak, and the real thing, not just a cheap Hogsmeade knock-off.

"After all," James muses, "this is our new home. Might as well get to know it, right?"

Home.

Remus looks up. Sirius, the black-eyed boy, meets his eyes, throwing him a casual grin. Like he's part of the group. Like he's always been there, like they've known each other for years; and all at once, he realizes two things. The first is what he was looking for. Home.

Second is that he's found it.