Sirius Black never had been the nosy sort. Irritating, yes, prankster, yes, stubborn, bossy, inconsiderate at times, but never nosy. Unless a prank called for some spying upon the unsuspecting victim, Sirius generally kept to his own business. His closest friends could confide in him but when they had a secret it was their own.

Until recently. Everyone knew that Remus Lupin was the quiet one of the group. Timid, reserved, and extremely clever, he never spoke unless spoken to and generally preferred not to draw attention to himself, unlike his three other friends. Sirius and James had to be at the center of attention, while Peter tagged along for the ride. Remus remained in the background, always hidden but always there, the voice of reason in their dormitory, the homework-doer, the lagomorph-lover, the bed-maker, ever the perfect student. But Sirius had been doing some careful studying himself, and it wasn't out of a book.

Remus was a good friend, and despite Sirius's commitment to minding his own, it was becoming clearer and clearer that something was, indeed, very wrong with Remus. He would disappear for hours or even days at a time, though usually just overnight. Before and after these episodes he appeared dazed and weary, his sleep was troubled, and he ate little. Sometimes he appeared with scratches and bruises, other times not. Sirius was trying to make sense of this behavior. Obviously he was sick, but the injuries were harder to explain. Was he getting beaten up by the Slytherins regularly and not telling the others? Entirely possible; Remus wasn't one to stand up for himself. But when? He was nearly always within an arm's reach of the other three.

Sirius also couldn't completely explain why he hadn't realized all these things sooner. He'd been sharing a dorm with the other boy for nearly two years; as summer approached, bringing the end of term and still no solution, Sirius decided to say something about this puzzler to James, the head of their little group. James, like Sirius, had been born into money but never spoiled. He'd never been abused the way Sirius had, no, his parents coddled him, but he knew right from wrong. He would never be heard saying a word against Muggles, and even had his eye on a Muggle-born girl, Lily Evans.

Sirius waited outside the dorm for James to come back from Herbology one afternoon (Sirius had never cared for the subject and skipped as often as he could manage). He pulled his friend aside and suggested they go for a walk.

"I don't know if you've noticed," Sirius began as they headed out onto the grounds, "But I think there's something wrong with Remus."

James was quiet for a moment, his dark eyes focused on the twilight beyond the forest. "Remus has always been a bit unusual. He tries hard to blend in."

"Really wrong, Jamie. He's ill. He's been disappearing--"

"I know. I asked him about it last term." James sidestepped a large stone as they came upon the lake. The giant squid was lurking on the far side. "He said that his mum was ill and that his father had come that evening to take him to St. Mungo's to see her."

"Well, that's all well and good, but it's happened more than once. It's been happening for weeks."

"Months," James corrected. They sat down under a tree, wary of others overhearing. As dusk fell the other students wandered into the castle. "Since last year, maybe longer." Together they looked out across the lake. Hagrid's hut seemed miles away. "We should say something to him." James finally declared. Uncertainly.

"James. It took us nearly an entire term to get him to smile, and another half of one to get him to laugh out loud. I'm as worried as you are, but we can't do something to make him go back into his little shell." Sirius sighed. "I've been watching him. I've ruled out a lot of magical and Muggle illnesses. All that's left are curses."

James considered Sirius quietly. "We'd have known if he'd been cursed."

"There are a lot of curses that can last years, some that don't have a counter-curse. Seriously dark magic, I know, but it's possible."

"You probably know better than I do. We ought to do some research. And we should talk to Peter." James stood up quickly.

"What's Peter going to do, read up on food poisoning? Because I can tell you right now, this is no case of botulism."

James seemed not to hear him. "The thing that worries me most," the bespectacled boy began, "Is that he obviously thinks he can't tell us. For whatever reason."

"Well, he has a right to his privacy, James." Sirius sighed. "I know we try to make him feel comfortable, but for whatever reason, he doesn't. We all have our demons, but his are bugging me."

"Let's tell Peter about this and then we can decide what to do."

***

Peter, it turned out, had not noticed the strange disappearances but noted that Remus appeared to have been markedly fatigued the past few days. Having exhausted their brains, their textbooks and the library, they turned next to Madame Pomfrey, who perhaps could identify the illness by the symptoms.

"Look, you lot." She finally said, exasperated, after thirty minutes' interrogation.

"You're clever, but you're not outwitting me. Now, I'll admit to you that he's ill, but that's it. Final. No more discussion. His secrets belong to him and no one else!" And she had them removed from the hospital wing. Their next and last resort was to confront Remus himself.

"What are you on about?" he said distractedly as he pored over a volume of ancient text on Potions. They were sitting on James' bed at dawn the next morning, a Saturday, studying desperately for the upcoming exams. Well, Remus was, anyway.

"It's just that you've looked a bit off-color lately, and we were wondering if anything was… amiss." Sirius was treading carefully; he couldn't afford to make his friend nervous or uncomfortable.

"I don't know what you're talking about." Remus took a bite of a chocolate frog; "I'm no more tired than any of you lot ought to be; exams are only a month away. I fell asleep in the library just last week, trying to catch up on Ancient Runes. I don't remember why I asked for that class…" He flipped a page.

"And Pince didn't find you and toss you out?"

"Nope. What a miracle, eh?"

Remus did not look up from his book during this entire exchange. Sirius looked at James. James looked at Sirius. Sirius looked at Peter, who looked to James and then back to the pile of sweets.

"Are you sure there's nothing wrong?" James implored, "Because you know we'd do anything to help."

"Positive." Remus flipped another page, an edge creeping into his voice, and leaned to the left and pulled a dictionary toward himself. "You're just paranoid."

And that was the end of that.

***

Another month. Another disappearance, around the same time, and James suddenly realized something that he felt he should have long ago. But it didn't matter. Exams were this week and what was important was keeping Remus awake for them. His eyes were bloodshot slits, his skin was pale, his movements shaky and feeble. Sirius had even caught him vomiting in the boys' toilet after Potions, but Remus insisted it was only the smells in the dungeon that had gotten to him. He'd been sitting on his bed with one side of the curtains drawn, fully clothed, at midnight, totally engrossed in his Ancient Runes. James and Sirius were on Sirius' bed studying Herbology terms when Peter decided to sneak down to the kitchens around one thirty. Remus was lying on his side facing the curtain on the other side of him. It was painfully obvious that he was ill. They saw that every few minutes he would lay his head down on his arm, then raise up again, take a deep breath, and keep on reading. The third time, Sirius got up, crossed the room, and leaned across Remus' bed.

"Hey—" Remus protested but before he knew what had happened, Sirius had seized his Runes book, his quill and parchment, and was headed back to his bed. "Sirius, what the hell?" Remus was on his way—rather slowly—to where Sirius was setting up an ink well on the nightstand.

"Remus, no offense mate, but you look like you're about to pass out where you stand. You're ill, we all know it, and your exam on this is tomorrow afternoon." He held up the parchment that Remus had been taking notes on. "Look at your handwriting, it's abominable, how are you even going to read these to study?"

James handed Sirius a fresh scroll as he tossed the old one aside. Remus looked bewildered. "I am going to read this book, take notes for you, and you can study them in the morning. Go to sleep."

"I'm just tired, not ill, and my hand—"

"Don't lie to us." James said softly, and Remus stopped. "We'll take care of your runes; obviously, we're not as bright as you but I think we can read well enough. Now go to bed. It's nearly two." He did not look at Remus, just continued on down his page. Remus looked a bit hurt and guilty, but after a moment he wandered over to his bed and lied down. He did not, however, pull his curtains, but instead pulled out another book.

Sirius then reached his breaking point. He got up, stormed over to Remus' bed, and jerked the book away. Remus looked a bit terrified as Sirius pulled all the books off the shelf over the headboard, off the nightstands, off the top of the trunk. He threw them all over onto his own bed.

"Now," he said fiercely to Remus, "We will do them all. You GO TO SLEEP." A flick of his wrist fanned the lantern at Remus' bedside out of existence and he yanked the curtain shut.

"That was a bit harsh, mate," James criticized as Sirius plopped angrily down onto the side of the bed again. "He was just—"

"Shut it, Jamie."

"Sirius."

Sirius looked up at this. It was a voice he'd not heard from James in years. He'd known James since they were four years old; they were distant cousins, and at a pureblood family gathering that year they had become the best of friends. As he looked at James he saw that he was pulling out of his bag a very old and battered book, the kind out of the restricted section. He must've looked curious, for James slid it silently across to him.

The Hunger Moon by Vladimir Iokaste.

Werewolves.

Suddenly everything clicked into place and with a sharp breath he looked back up at James, eyes wide. James quietly gaze met his, and he pressed a finger to his lips in a gesture commanding silence. Sirius looked back down at the book. James had worried about this; Sirius came from a long line of dark magic and evil wizards. Despite his desperate desire to do everything in his power to displease them, he'd had a knowledge and prejudice of dark creatures drilled into him since the day he had been born.

No wonder Remus was reluctant to talk about it. Dumbledore probably knew and Madame Pomfrey obviously had, but probably it was a secret. A big secret. A really, really big secret. And how Sirius had just treated him… Suddenly he sprang to his feet again. James, wary of Sirius' reaction to this, got up uneasily and followed him. Remus' pet rabbit thumped in alarm as Sirius rushed around his own bed and pulled off of the other nightstand a set of silver scales handed down to him by his Uncle Ovaard. A swish of his wand and they were banished. James, seeing what his friend was doing, looked around the room for silver as well. There were a few items, easily banished.

"He'll be suspicious," James whispered harshly.

"Suspicious of what?" came Peter's voice curiously and loudly from the doorway, his arms full of cakes and fizzy drinks.

James and Sirius looked at each other again.

"Nothing, Pete. We'll tell you in the morning." James headed back for their work. "We're doing Remus' homework, he's a little ill."

"About time. He hasn't slept in days, I don't think."

And together the three of them flopped back down onto James's bed and settled in for an all-nighter.