Teaching suited Remus Lupin. He had always secretly suspected he would make a good teacher, a hunch he had never been trusted to act on before. A werewolf was never anyone's first choice as an educator of children. But here at Hogwarts, his true nature once again whitewashed and concealed by Dumbledore's protection, Remus had found something at which he excelled. The students liked him, and his fellow professors respected him, and he had unexpectedly formed a rewarding mentorship relationship with the son of a long ago friend.

Returning to Hogwarts had stirred many feelings and memories in Remus; since taking his post at Hogwarts he had been quite a bit happier than he'd been in recent years—happier than he'd been since attending Hogwarts himself, as a matter of fact. But these pleasant emotions weren't unmixed; for although Dumbledore saw the best in Remus—always had—his unfailing trust in Remus had been eating away like a silent canker in Remus's heart. In spite of Remus's distinction of having belonged to the house of the big-hearted and brave, Remus was acting the part of great cowardice in choosing to maintain Dumbledore's good opinion of him by extending a deceit from his school days, instead of looking out for the safekeeping of one Harry Potter. He had spent many a sleepless night reassuring himself that Black must be using some very powerful dark magic to evade capture, and not simply his ability to transform into a very unobtrusive and unexceptional black dog.

Remus had assuaged some of his burden of guilt by taking it upon himself to better prepare Harry for some of the dangers out in the world. Harry was a keen and responsive student—at least in his class. It didn't concern Remus if the boy fell asleep in History of Magic or scrawled out his divination homework last minute on his thigh in the hallway before entering that class. And if anything he felt a certain quantity of pride when Severus Snape entered the professors' break room irate and hostile and spouting invective over the boy's incorrigible idiocy.

Remus enjoyed his private lessons with Harry. He liked this opportunity to do something for the boy of his old friend—the first one who had not withdrawn the hand of friendship when he had figured out the cause of Remus's cyclical absences from school. He sometimes wished to be more honest with Harry—by now he knew that Harry had no inkling of Remus's connection to his parents—but again Remus's cowardice trumped his good intentions. It was difficult to go out on a limb with anyone, when one carried the sort of secrets Remus did. But in spite of his general feelings of falling short, Remus very much liked being around Harry, and reflected so one January day at the end of a private lesson. Harry had thanked him for his time—Lily would have been pleased to have such a well-mannered son—and Remus had smiled and dismissed him, and yet Harry remained seated.

And now Harry sat, back straight but eyes contemplating his hands on the desk in front of him. Remus cleared his throat. "Harry?"

Harry raised his green eyes to meet his own, and as usual, Remus felt the slight feeling of upset in the pit of his stomach that he'd grown accustomed to experiencing every time he saw Lily's eyes peering out from behind those thick lenses.

"I just…I was reading ahead in the text book," Harry began. He fixed his gaze on his hands once more for a moment. Looking up, "The chapter on werewolves," he said.

Remus felt the feather-light fluttering of worry, like he always did, and banished it away, like always. He was Harry's teacher, and they were discussing course material.

"We will be studying that chapter in a few weeks."

"Yes," Harry nodded. "But I was wondering…I was wondering," Harry bit his lip. "Are werewolves really, you know, Dark?"

Lupin raised his eyebrows. "You mean, are they Dark Creatures?"

"Yes."

Lupin considered Harry for a moment. "They have been classified as Dark Creatures, which is why we'll be studying them in Defense Against the Dark Arts."

"Yes, but do you really think they're Dark? I mean, aren't they human most of the time?" Harry was peering at Lupin now, and it was making him most uncomfortable.

"I think," Lupin began. It was foreign, utterly foreign to be discussing werewolves with someone who had no idea that the man sitting across the room was one himself. He wondered if this was a rare opportunity to re-educate some one, to keep one person's mind a little more open.

"I think that they are quite dangerous, when transformed, of course. But the rest of the time, they are people like you or I. I should think." Lupin had tacked that last sentence on with a dry mouth.

"Just like you or I," Harry repeated, thoughtfully. He shifted slightly in his seat. "So why the bad rap?"

"Ignorance, I suppose. It's the popular notion, and it's always hard to challenge popular notions. Especially when the individuals who would overturn that notion are themselves marginalized."

Harry nodded. "You see, that's what I thought."

Lupin smiled at Harry, and turned to the stack of papers on his desk. It was difficult not to be charmed by his guilelessness. But after a minute, Harry, Lupin realized, had made no move to leave.

"Is there something else?" he queried.

Harry bit his lip and gave Lupin a long, hard look. "There's something I wanted to tell you," he said. "A secret."

Lupin was puzzled, not only by the idea of Harry sharing something personal with him, but that it should somehow relate to the previous conversation. His thoughts drifted back to an uncomfortable encounter with Minerva the day before. "Potter trusts you, Remus. I haven't seen that before. Please, make yourself available to him."

"Yes?"

"When I was sorted, the hat—it—it wanted to put me in Slytherin." Harry paused a beat for any reaction on Lupin's part, but Lupin was impassive. "It said I would do well in Slytherin. That I'd be a powerful wizard—very powerful."

"And?" Lupin asked.

"I told it I didn't want any of that, and I sort of begged it not to put me there. I really just wanted friends. And, I'd made a friend on the train ride, and I knew he was going to be sorted into Gryffindor. Ron," Harry added, unnecessarily.

Lupin stared at Harry. "You turned down the prospect of being a great wizard, for a chum you'd made on the ride over?" He wasn't shocked at Harry, not really. But the part about the hat wanting him in Slytherin… The thought of James and Lily's son being placed in Slytherin did strange things to his stomach.

"Yes," Harry said levelly, and with the faintest note of defiance.

Lupin chose his words carefully. "I'm not surprised. But I should think that that decision itself would prove that you belong in Gryffindor."

Harry was immediately placated. "That's what Dumbledore said. He said it's our decisions that show who we really are. And I thought, it's not as if anyone really makes the decision to become a werewolf, do they?"

Lupin shook his head, mutely.

"Only you and Dumbledore know about this," Harry said. "I don't like to think about what would happen if it got out. People would think that…that I was the next Voldemort or something."

"Why are you telling me this?"

Harry considered Lupin with an unfathomable expression. "I thought if I told you my biggest secret, you'd trust me with yours."

It was as if the bottom of Lupin's stomach had dropped out. "What?"

"That you're a werewolf," Harry said bluntly.

The room was silent except for the burbling from the aquarium on the window ledge. Remus felt the room rock around him.

"How—are you—"

"I won't tell anyone," Harry said quickly. "But, does Dumbledore know?"

Remus hesitated, and then nodded.

Harry visibly relaxed. "Oh. I guess it's okay then. That was the part I was worried about. I wouldn't want to not tell him the truth about something."

Remus's chest tightened at Harry's words.

Harry stooped for his bag. "Quidditch practice," he said simply, before ducking out the door.

Remus exhaled. He would have to tell Dumbledore about Sirius Black. But, not today.