There were several misconceptions people had about werewolves. Remus knew this. While it bothered him that often what they were taught in class was far from the reality, he had learned to live with it. Unfortunately, his friends didn't know about these misconceptions. They'd had the best intentions when they'd taken to reading every book they could possibly find on werewolves. What they didn't know was that the books - and their Defence Professor - weren't always entirely accurate.
There had been more than a few times that Remus had had to correct his friends on what they thought they knew about werewolves, but the one that stuck out in his mind - if only because the very notion seemed utterly ridiculous to Remus - was an incident that had occurred on his sixteenth birthday.
Remus had been in the common room unwrapping a present from Lily when said incident happened. One minute he'd been looking down at a lovely silver-tipped quill, the next he'd had it knocked out of his hand by Sirius. The quill had gone flying and it was, quite frankly, a miracle that nobody's eye had been taken out.
While Lily had glared daggers at Sirius Remus had remained calm, saying in a voice reminiscent of a teacher, "Sirius, what are you doing?"
Sirius looked baffled as he replied, "I was saving your life."
"You were saving my life," Remus repeated with the same teacher-like tone.
"Yes! The quill, it was silver." Sirius's head comically swung from side to side, his gaze alternating between the blank look of Remus and the daggers of Lily, and he dearly wished he had James or Peter to back him up.
"I can see that, Sirius, but what I don't see is how that poses a threat to my life."
Sirius looked at him as though he was an idiot. "You're, you know, allergic to silver." It came out almost as a whisper, and Sirius side-eyed Lily as he spoke.
Then it clicked with Remus and he almost burst out laughing. He thought Sirius would be the last person to be taken in by Muggle myths concerning the magical world, especially since he spent half his time wondering how Muggles could believe this about dragons or that about mermaids. "Sirius," Remus said, his amusement clearly written on his face, "I'm not allergic to silver."
"You're not?" Sirius's face fell slightly.
"No."
"Oh." Sirius flushed slightly as he realised they'd garnered a bit of an audience and he went to retrieve the quill from where it had landed across the room.
As Remus carried on opening his presents, he made a mental note to find an accurate book on werewolves for his friends to read.