AN: This is going to be a set of 4 drabbles that I hope to release daily this week leading up to Halloween. I know these are centered around all of the Marauders, but still, consider this my contribution to Jily October!

I. 2nd Year

The bed was shaking; that was new. Remus kept his eyes shut tight, refusing to let anything disturb him after the very long night he had suffered.

He was about to sink back into a comfortable sleep, shaking be damned, when he heard a voice abnormally deep for a thirteen-year-old whisper, "You reckon he's in a coma?"

"Nah," whispered a gravelly voice. "I think he's just really tired."

He knew those voices. They belonged to two of his three roommates: James Potter and Sirius Black.

But how on earth did they find me here? Remus wondered.

Every since he had chanced upon this room—the magic room, as he thought of it—in the middle of his first year, he'd been using it to hide out during the mornings after particularly bad transformations.

The shaking of the bed intensified and Remus realized that one of the boys had climbed on and was now jumping on the bed.

"Oi, Lupin! Get up!" yelled Sirius.

"Don't do that, Sirius," James said.

To Remus' shock, Sirius actually stopped.

Remus opened his eyes just enough to glare at the two of them, who he saw were sitting on chairs they must have wished into existence.

James wore a look of extreme concern, but Sirius looked positively giddy.

"Nice set-up in here," Sirius said, looking around.

"It looks just like my room at home." Remus said groggily. "What are you doing here?"

"You've been asleep for twenty-four hours. It's Monday night. You missed all your classed and McGonagall's furious," Sirius said.

"What? Really?" Remus' first impulse was to get up, but he had only pulled himself halfway there before a pain in his side hit him and he fell back.

"No, not really," said James. "But you've—er—you're bleeding a bit on the bed."

Remus looked down and saw that there was indeed a dark spot on his light blue bedspread by his left side. He had gotten a particularly nasty gash that extended from his collarbone to his hip and through Madame Pomfrey had tried to heal it, she had apparently been unsuccessful.

He could feel his face heat up and his pulse quicken as he grasped to find an excuse.

"Oh, well, I, erm—" he tried again to sit up, but James gently pushed him back down.

"No, no, it's alright," James said, handing him a bottle of dittany and a towel.

Remus accepted the items and set to work applying the dittany on himself.

"Really, I've no idea how that happened," he said, "I mean, I go to visit my ill mother and I come back with this?" His voice shook and his attempt at laughter was pitiful.

"Are you even trying anymore, mate?" Sirius asked. "There's a giant bloody gash in your side, you've been passed out for hours, and your best excuse is that you don't know how it happened? We're not that thick."

"What do you mean?" Remus asked.

Sirius grinned and leaned in. "It means we know you're a were—"

"Sirius," James groaned, "I thought we were going to break it to him slowly."

"No point in that. He knows what he is."

"What are you talking about?" Remus asked, deciding that playing dumb was his only option.

"We don't care, honestly," James said.

"Quite right," Sirius added. "So you can stop looking like you're about to cry now."

Remus let out a breath he hadn't known he was holding, but his body remained tense. "I—"

"We figured it out right before Christmas, but we didn't know how long to keep it a secret from you," James said.

"Is it fun? Turning into a werewolf, I mean. It must be wicked. How'd you get that cut? Were you in a death match with something in the forbidden forest?" Sirius asked.

James glared at Sirius and then turned back to Remus. "We weren't going to tell you yet, but when you didn't come back after a day, we got worried."

"But how did you find me in the magic room?" Remus asked.

"Mate, we live in a castle for wizards. Every room is a magic room," Sirius deadpanned.

Remus stared at the other two, wishing desperately that he was a Legilimens.

"If this is some kind of a trick," he said, finally, "don't bother reporting me to Dumbledore, because he already knows and—"

"It's not a trick, we promise," James said.

"Promise?"

"We solemnly swear," said Sirius, raising his right hand. "Besides, do you really think we'd ever be the types to rat out a friend?" Sirius added.

"But I'm a werewolf."

Sirius shrugged. "You're still our friend."