James couldn't believe it. He checked over his notes, then checked them again. He glanced over at his best friend, who was scribbling away on his Potions essay. How… Maybe it was just a coincidence. Just because he was away every night of the full moon didn't necessarily mean what he thought it was. Maybe his mother really did have a bad case of dragon pox. And it probably meant nothing that his boggart was a moon. Who knew? Maybe he had a bad case of selenophobia or something. Or maybe…

He rubbed his head in annoyance. All this speculating about his friend was making him prickly. And he hated keeping anything from them. Secrets were all but non-existent in their little group. Remus probably wasn't anything special. Still, it wouldn't hurt to check, just to be sure.

"Oi, Remus." He prodded the sandy-haired boy with his quill. "Are you a werewolf?"

The ink bottle next to him dropped to the ground and splashed open. Remus, his face white, turned his head frantically from left to right, checking if anyone was listening, then waved his wand. The ink bottle and its contents flew back into its regular place on the table. "Wh-what did you say?"

"Oh, come on." A stone had sunk in his stomach at his friend's reaction, but he grabbed his friend's shoulders and dragged him out of the library, down the corridor and into the tapestry, behind which lay a secret passageway. James had found so many like this one he'd forgotten which one it was and where it lead to, but at the moment he didn't care.

"Are you a werewolf or not?"

Remus was staring dejectedly at the ground, his face pale and panicked, the expression of an animal caught in the headlights of a car. He sighed, then whispered, "Yeah, I am."

Remus turned away from James miserably. "So…I bet you won't—won't want me around anymore…"

James barely heard his last words. Being raised in a wizarding community, all he'd known about werewolves were bristling fur and bared teeth, razor-sharp claws that glinted in the light of the full-moon. Ear-splitting howls that sent shivers down your spine, and the gleam of red eyes that were the last things you ever saw. At least, those were the stories his mum had told him. Terrifying and dangerous beasts, they were not something James ever wanted to run into.

But Remus, with his shabby robes and pale, innocent face, a werewolf? His light brown hair was soft and silky, unlike the coarse fur James had always expected werewolves to have for hair. His pale green eyes were wide and clear, not narrowed in hatred. And his teeth were definitely not fangs. Remus was changing his view of werewolves completely, and James realized that he rather liked this new kind of werewolf. The only problem—the werewolf in person was getting farther and farther away.

"Oi, Remus! Remus!" He ran after his best friend, who was nearing the other end of the passageway. "Where're you going off to?"

Remus stared at him as James gasped for breath beside him. "I thought you hated me. For being… being a—"

James sighed exasperatedly. "Look, I don't bloody care if you're a werewolf or not—"

"You mean, we don't care." At the other end of the secret tunnel, the tapestry flapped as two familiar figures walked in.

"Sirius? Peter?" Remus covered his face with his hands. "It was bad enough that only one of you—"

"Knew?" Sirius grinned. "Remus, didn't you just hear us? We don't care if you have a furry little problem or not."

"You don't?" Remus's face, which had been as pale as the Hogwarts ghosts, suddenly flooded with color. "Y-You don't? Really?"

"'Course." Sirius slapped him on the shoulder. "Why would we?"

"Because I'm dangerous!" Remus burst out. "I could kill you every month if I forgot to go to the Shrieking Shack—"

"You've been going into Hogsmead every month?" James interrupted. "That's so unfair; we have to wait until next year—"

"That's not the point!" Remus protested. "I—I could hurt you."

Sirius groaned. "Remus, how many times do I have to prove to you that we're not afraid of danger?"

"Yeah," Peter spoke up. "We don't care if you're a werewolf. We're fine with it. Honestly."

"Truly?"

James bumped him. "Mate, have we ever lied to you? Trust me, it's fine with us."

"Oh." Remus was at a loss for words, but James could see the smile slowly creeping up his face. "Oh…well, then that's it, I suppose."

James laughed, but then a thought occurred to him. "But what I don't understand—" He jabbed his finger at Lupin. "is why it took you so long to tell us."

"I—I thought—" He looked away, a blush blooming on his exposed cheek.

"That we'd run away?" Sirius mimed a horrified face. "'Help, there's a werewolf in the castle!'?"

Remus sighed, then looked back at his friends with a shamed smile. "Yeah, something like that."

James ruffled his hair with affection. His best friend was a werewolf, so what? He was still Remus, the awkward, shy boy who had been with James ever since his first train ride on the Hogwarts express. A furry little problem didn't change that.

"We're never going to desert you, okay? So get that idea out of your head."

"'Kay." Remus whispered. "Promise?"

"Promise." James grinned.

Together, arm in arm, they continued on their way.