"How much is this duck?" asked James Potter, looking at the cashier inquisitively. His three best friends were standing behind him. Sirius had his arms crossed and was tapping his foot impatiently, as Peter and Remus shared some chocolate frogs they'd picked up at Honeydukes. James was holding a huge glass duck, and he set it on the counter.

"200 Galleons," the cashier replied.

James balked at the amount, and whispered to Sirius, "Have you got 60 Galleons on you, mate?"

"I'm not paying for your goddamn duck," said Sirius shortly. "Can we get out of here?"

"It's not my duck, it's Evans's duck!" James was indignant.

"Exactly, and buying her a duck is not going to help your chances with her saying yes when you ask her to prom." Sirius scowled. "There are plenty of girls who love you, why don't you go with one of them?"

"Because I don't love them," said James, his voice sounding almost whiny. "This is so unfair. The only girl who doesn't love me is the one I'm in love with."

"Look, I'll pay for it!" said Remus, shoving his hand into his schoolbag. They had been there forever, and he was starting to feel exhausted after walking around all day. Besides ten textbooks, and at least twenty chocolate frogs, he had his money in there too. Since chocolate and school supplies were just about the only things he spent money on, he had accumulated quite a bit of it, mostly because he took a job as a junior camp counselor over the summer, and he had his allowance too.

"Thanks," said James gratefully, taking the 60 Galleons from Remus, and pulling out 140 of his own. James had rich parents, but they had recently been reluctant to send him much money, mostly because he was always spending it on his crush, Lily Evans.

"You excited about prom, Remus?" Peter mumbled, his mouth full of chocolate.

"No," said Remus. "I'm only going because you three are going."

"I'm not going," said Peter. "None of the girls I asked want to go with me."

"I thought we were going as a group of friends," Sirius was heard saying. "Prom is in one week, you can't hang us out to dry now!"

"Too bad!" Peter swallowed his chocolate. "I'm not going!"

"I-I'll go," said Remus weakly. True, he didn't really like parties, but he didn't want to be cooped up in his dorm room while the rest of the school was down in the Great Hall having prom. First and second years were considered too young to go to prom, and Sirius and James always talked about going. Since they were finally third years, their excitement was mounting. It sounded almost fun to Remus, and besides, they'd probably have a chocolate fountain there so…what was the harm? After all, if James and Sirius didn't think he was "cool", they'd probably ditch him.

"Evans is going to say yes!" James said. "I'll have a date for prom!"

"Never gonna happen," said Sirius, as James paid for the big glass duck.

As they walked down the street, the other three started talking some more about prom, and Remus wanted to join in, but he was starting to feel a bit annoyed at them. Why couldn't James stop obsessing about Lily, and why was Remus too shy to ask a girl out himself? School was almost over (it was Saturday, March 31, 1974), and he liked school a lot. Things had been crazy with prom going on, but he'd still marked his calendar for the full moon, which was supposed to be in two weeks. After eight years of lycanthropy, he didn't even need to look it up anymore, all he did was count the number of weeks until the next month, and he was done with it.

It was strange, actually—he didn't usually get this cranky until the week before the full moon. But then again, his symptoms could come early if he was under stress, and the coming of prom had made everyone stressed out, especially James, who was plotting his "promposal" for Lily.

"So d'you think I should do it in front of the whole school?" he was asking Sirius. "I know! I could sit up in a tree, and one by one throw lilies onto her head—after I have tenderly embraced every single flower."

"Is this before or after you give her the glass duck?" said Sirius dryly.

James just glared, and so did Remus, because he was sick of this! Oh no—literally. There was now this nauseous feeling in the pit of his stomach again. If his symptoms were coming now, how bad would they be next week? Peter offered him a chocolate frog and his stomach lurched at the thought of eating. Unknowingly, he gripped onto James's arm, and his friend looked at him with concern.

"Do you want to sit down for a bit, mate?" he asked.

"I-I'm f-f…" Remus clapped his hands over his mouth, because if he talked, he'd vomit.

"C'mon," said Sirius, who was leading him to sit down on a bench, and he and James looked quickly at each other. "Are you sick again, Remus?"

"N-No," he mumbled.

"Don't worry, it'll be over before you know it," said James, and Remus wondered what he meant by that. Sirius sat down on the bench and put his arm around Remus, who was working hard at not throwing up. Even though the Healers at St. Mungo's told him not to "suppress the urge", he didn't want to empty his stomach in front of his three friends on the streets of Hogsmeade where everyone was watching. Stupid prom, stupid James chasing after Lily, stupid chocolate, stupid lycanthropy, stupid everything, he thought. Remus had promised his friends he'd go to prom with them, but wouldn't he just ruin it for them, having a severe headache, throwing up, perhaps having an emotional breakdown?

Prom would be horrible. It was scheduled exactly one week before the full moon, and except for the actual full moon day, that was the day he felt worst. That was the day he could hardly pull himself out of bed, and even though he took painkillers for his headaches, he'd vomit them all right up again sometimes. Then for the rest of the week the only thing he could eat without throwing up was chocolate, which tasted better than usual, and he was cranky all day. Then there was the full moon day, which was pretty much hell, and night, when he'd have to sneak out of his dorm room and down to the Shrieking Shack. Every so often, one of his roommates would wake up and ask where he was going, and he'd say he was just on his way to the bathroom, or getting a snack, or whatever else he could think of, but it was hard to explain why he wasn't back until morning.

When he was first bitten as a five-year-old, the Healers had told his distraught parents that he would lead an "almost normal" life, but that every full moon day would be horrible for him. Unfortunately he'd discovered that it was the whole week that bothered him, not just the day, and the whole thing had somehow gotten a lot worse since puberty hit (apparently this would even itself out at around eighteen). Being a werewolf stunk, and the fact that he had to hide it from his best friends was the worst part. No way would they ever hang out with him if they knew who he really was, what he really was.