DISCLAIMER: I do not own nor make any claims to anything Harry Potter related. This story is entirely my own creation and it is merely the nonsensical ramblings of an idle author.

October 22, 1971

7. Brotherhood

The nightmares always began at least one week before the full moon.

Not that anyone outside of his inner circle had ever linked the two events together, mind you, yet this particular timeline held much significance to Remus John Lupin. It meant a great deal because ever since Remus had been nearly five years old, he'd suffered identical spells of night terrors. Spells in which he'd wake up drenched in sweat, hysterical and reliving the fateful moment in which he'd encountered a one Mr. Fenrir Greyback.

Thankfully, by some grace the nightmares didn't come every single month - not even every other one, least not since his tenth birthday - but when they did, it was a sure sign that his transformation was destined to be exceptionally painful that upcoming cycle.

His father had once speculated that it likely had something to do with growth spurts, attempting to put a half-hearted diagnosis to his son's most troubling predicament. Not that it mattered to Remus, though, for once the dreams began he only spiraled further into self-loathing and confusion. As if being a pre-teen wasn't difficult enough, it went without saying that being a budding lycanthrope was exceptionally worse.

This round of nightmares, however, was even more troubling than usual.

For the first time in his brief life, Remus now had roommates: three unsuspecting innocents sleeping in disturbingly close proximity to the young werewolf and that prospect terrified him more than anything else had before. What if his transformation came early? What if something went horribly wrong and the boys awoke to find a deranged monster in their midst? These wizards were his friends, after all - the very first friends he'd ever made. Remus was hardly naive enough to believe they would still be quite so keen on him after he'd attempted to rip their throats out.

Last he checked, standard etiquette generally discouraged that sort of conduct.

More than anything, above all else his dreams were embarrassing. Last month, he had lied (a habit now rapidly becoming second nature) and blamed the change in his living situation as the cause for his screams in the night. This month he'd have to be more creative - Halloween jitters, maybe? A result of the late night ghost stories and ghoulish tales Sirius was so fond of reading, perhaps?

Yes, that would do… He knew it was about as believable as the lies he'd spun the month before but it would do - it would have to.

Two months down, only six and a half more years to go.

Every time one of the boys shook him awake, peering down at him with worried looks in the darkness, Remus only wanted to retreat further into himself. He was not an adult but he was also by no means a young bairn anymore. It was bad enough when his mum used to rush to his side every night, much less now James or Sirius. And yet, at the same time, he wanted nothing more than his mother's comfort some nights, wistfully recalling the familiarity and safety of his old bedroom. No one was bothered by how many times Remus awoke screaming in the Lupin's modest home; he wasn't an abnormality there.

The worst one of them all, though, was Peter, for after confirming that Remus was calm once again, he would merely just sit there, sometimes reading quietly or staring off into space until Lupin drifted off. He was stoic in his support, unflinching when it came to his friend's fits. Remus was inexplicably equal parts both grateful and enraged at Peter's kindness; he knew it was irrational to feel as such but he couldn't help himself.

That particular night was no exception.

Come just half past three in the early hours of the morning, Remus was found once again thrashing about in his bed, pulling savagely at the velvet curtains and screaming incoherently until his voice went hoarse. Across the room, James tumbled clumsily out of a tangle of bedsheets as he grappled for his glasses, blinking as his sleepy eyes adjusted to the dim light. He stepped cautiously in Remus's general direction, arms outstretched zombie-like as he blindly navigated the abandoned books and shoes littering the floor.

Tonight it was his turn to talk Remus down. Tonight, James would pat his friend's arm comfortingly until he too nodded off, collapsing in an exhausted heap over Remus's feet like a loyal pet. Tonight it was his turn and tomorrow, it would be Sirius's - the boys had an unspoken schedule and as such, James was on duty.

One day, in the distant future, Remus would later thank him for it. One day, after many moons had passed, Remus would even return the favor after the horrors of an Order raid gone horribly wrong but for now, tonight he was the one in need.

Tonight, Remus was the one hurting.