April 3rd 1972

"I wonder, Remus, how thick do you think we are?"

James question was followed by a heavy silence. They had been sitting under a tree near the lake, enjoying the first rays of sun of the season and catching up on what everybody had done during the Easter Holidays. Sirius and Peter had been discussing Quidditch right when James had spoken out of the blue.

"Huh?" Remus asked, blankly.

"It's sort of insulting, you know?" James was carrying on, conversationally.

Remus turned to see if the other two knew what this was all about. Peter was staring at the grass surrounding him, as if he intended to count every blade. Sirius was looking at both of them intently.

"No, I don't know," Remus said slowly.

Easter Holidays had been entirely too short and yet Remus was bursting with excitement at the perspective of going back to school. It had been great that his transformation had been right in the middle of the Holidays too. In other circumstances he would not have liked that free time to be interrupted by the full moon but now he was glad it would be one month less in which he would have to lie to everybody about where he had been.

His last transformation at school had been the worse, not because of the transformation, but because of the flow of questions he had had to answer afterwards. James, Sirius and Peter seemed to not want to give it a rest, asking nonstop about his latest wounds and about his mother's health. Remus much feared they were growing suspicious.

And now… was it possible that James had figured it out. How? No, it had to be something else entirely.

"You see, mate," Sirius spoke in a very unusual calm voice, "James has a point there. We're not stupid… well, most of the time."

Peter gave a small chortle but no one paid attention to him.

"It… it would be better," Remus' voice was hoarse and he had to make an extra effort for it not to shake, "if you'd tell me exactly what are you talking about?"

But he knew. They knew. But no, it could not be. How on earth would they still be there if they knew what he really was?

James sighed.

"How's your mum?"

"Good," he answered, "better."

"Aha," Sirius said.

"Right," James agreed.

They looked at each other as if Remus' answer had been exactly what they had expected to hear him say. Still, none of them seemed convinced.

"We know, Remus," Peter said in an almost inaudible whisper.

"What do you know?" his voice was not shaky anymore.

A calm fear was taking over him and, for some strange reason, it felt a lot like fury.

James leaned forward; his face was mere centimetre from Remus'.

"You're a werewolf," he whispered, his bright eyes never leaving his.

It was as if the blood inside his veins had frozen, as if thousands of invisible fists were hitting him from all directions, and yet, he had to remain calm, he just had to convince them he was not… too bad he had no idea how should he do that.

"I'm not," he said, but his voice was shaky.

"Here we go," Sirius rolled his eyes.

"See?" James told him, "he thinks we're thick!"

"I don't think you're-"

"Listen," Sirius said, bending over as well, with a voice barely audible. "First," he raised his right hand index, "your scars. We don't know anybody so prone to accidents and funnily enough, they all happen only when you're away."

"But it's just-"

"Second," Sirius interrupted, raising another finger in front of his eyes, "you're always sort of ill at the same time every month. You look thin, you have headaches, you don't sleep well…"

"And third," James cut in, "funnily enough it all happens right before you get mysteriously summoned to your mum's…"

"Because she's ill!" Remus protested, even though he knew there would be no convincing them.

James and Sirius rolled their eyes. They seemed to have done their homework thoroughly.

The only question remained, why were they still there? Would not they want to go away from him?

"Yeah, right," Sirius spoke, "she's ill only when there's a full moon. Either she had lycanthropy or you have. And since it would not make any sense for you to go there if she was the… the sick one, the only possible explanation is this: you are a werewolf."

For the first time Peter looked up at them and Remus could see fear in his eyes. And still he had the strange impression he was not scare of his being a werewolf but mere of the event that might follow Sirius' statement.

Remus lowered his head. Nobody said anything for a long moment. What should he do now?

It was obvious.

With a swift movement, he stood up and before any of them could stop him, he was running up the slope towards the castle, tears burning into his eyes. He heard voices, but he could not distinguish what they were saying; the only thing he could do was hope they were not screaming "werewolf" and pointing at him for the whole school to know.

Suddenly something heavy got caught of his ankles and he felt face down to earth.

"What are you doing?" Sirius said angrily, but not letting go of his legs.

He had tackled him from behind. Where they going to hit him? Remus had never been in a fight before and wondered how it would be to have to defend himself from three people at the same time.

"Don't let him go," James voice came.

"I got it!" Sirius announced. "He's not going anywhere."

Remus started moving, trying his best to free himself from his grip but he was not yielding. A second later James was at his side.

"Where do you think you're going?" he asked Remus, while Peter, slightly breathless, caught up with them.

"Let me go!" Remus said, still trying to free himself from Sirius' grip.

"Won't!"

"Hey!" he roared. He did not know where it was coming from, but there was this cold fury burning him from the inside. James and Peter stood still, looking down at him, while Sirius' grip receded somewhat. Remus lowered his voice to an almost inaudible whisper.

"So, you know," his voice was trembling but the tears were gone. "Now let me go. I won't be in your way, so you stay away from mine."

Sirius and James exchanged a confused look.

"What are you talking about, mate?" the latter asked.

"We don't want you to go," Sirius said.

"You know," James said, "he's the thick one."

Peter nodded.

Remus looked at them, puzzled. He was searching for that look, that finny light in their eyes, that fear he had learn to identify. There was none. And just as suddenly as it had come, his fury was gone.

James crouched at his side and for an instant Remus thought he was going to hit him. He flinched.

"We don't want you to go," he said simply. "Why would we? I mean, it's not as if you'll transform and bite us in the middle of the night, right? You go… away, wherever it is… don't you?"

Remus nodded.

"Listen, mate," Sirius spoke, finally letting go of his legs, "we don't care."

"You don't…?" he sat up, levelling with James and Sirius.

"Why should we? I think it's kinda cool."

"Yeah right."

That must be a lie if there ever had been one. How could anybody think lycanthropy was cool?

"Sirius-ly. I mean, how many people can honestly say they have a werewolf as a friend?"

Remus thought for an instant.

"The question is," he said slowly, "how many people would honestly want to have a werewolf as a friend."

James gave him a pat on the back of his head.

"At least three I know of."

Remus was positively gawping now.

"Why didn't you tell us before, though?" Peter asked.

He looked at them for a long moment. All the emotions he had recently had, fear, anger, sadness, were being replaced by that very same warm thing filling his insides.

"Never mind that," James spoke, "now tell us, how does it feel?"


He had never been in the Headmaster's office before and he had to ask several portraits for directions before finding the right place. A gargoyle was blocking the entrance; Remus did not have a password, but he guessed he could wait there, in the hallway, until Professor Dumbledore showed up. Either in or out, he would have to cross that gargoyle eventually.

It did not take that long though, before the gargoyle moved and Professor MacGonagall came out and revolving spiral staircase.

"Lupin, what are you doing here?"

"I… I need to talk to Professor Dumbledore, Professor."

She eyed him suspiciously.

"Is everything all right?"

"Yeah, it's just… it won't take long."

She moved to her side, leaving the pass free.

"Off you go, then,"

After climbing a set of moving spiral stairs, he found a heavy wooden door.

"Come in," a voice inside spoke before he could even knock.

The Headmaster was sitting behind a large table, with several rolls of parchment opened in front of him. The walls were covered with portraits of sever looking wizards and witches. There were so many objects perched on small tables and on shelves Remus wished he would have some time to check it all around.

"Remus, how do you do?"

He had to focus on Professor Dumbledore; it was a difficult feature.

"I'm fine sir."

"Did you need to tell me something?"

Remus did not know how to start. They had agreed he would not tell anybody about his condition, but nothing had been said about others finding out from themselves. He was not sure if he had done wrong.

"I…" he cleared his throat. "It was not my fault, Sir, I think. Or maybe, I should have lied better. Anyway, I don't know how I could prevent this…"

Professor Dumbledore was looking at him calmly, his eyebrows raised.

"My friends found out what I am," Remus finally said with a loud sigh.

"Did they, now?"

"Yeah… you know… James Potter, Sirius Black and Peter Pettigrew. We… we get along very well, and they noticed how I'm always away in a full moon. Today they told me they know I'm a werewolf. I tried to convince them I'm not, but they had watched me a lot and they… I think they did some research because they told me I had all the symptoms."

The Headmaster was looking at him intently, as if he could read inside his mind.

"I don't think they'll tell anybody… They told me they wouldn't. But still," Remus squared his shoulders. "I don't know, Sir. Maybe… maybe this is a mistake. What if somebody else finds out?"

The headmaster was now frowning slightly.

"What was your friends' reaction after finding out? Did they run away from you?"

Remus smiled slightly.

"Not really, Professor. I was the one who ran away actually."

"I see."

"I didn't want to be there if they did not want me to."

Professor Dumbledore leaned forward a little.

"And do they want you to leave?"

Remus' smile broadened.

"No, Sir, they don't."

The Headmaster leaned back again.

"I don't know why," Remus continued. "I've met plenty of people who wanted to heal me, and who approached me but… they all looked disgusted, or afraid, you see? Relieved when they had to go. I'm sort of used to that. Why haven't James and the others?"

"Funny think friendship," Professor Dumbledore spoke calmly. "People doesn't seem to realise how rare it is and what a treasure true friends are. No, Remus, I don't think you are in danger of more people finding out. That is, if you continue to be careful."

He nodded but did not say a thing.

"Take care of them, Remus,"

"I'm not going to hurt them."

"That's not what I meant," the Headmaster said smiling. "I know you wouldn't. What I am saying is, you ought to take care of that friendship. You are a lucky person."

Remus stared at him for a long moment. Who on earth would possibly think that a werewolf was a lucky person?

"They have looked beyond the fur or the claws," the old man continued. "You should do the same. You should learn to look pass your own problems."

He had no idea how to respond to this and both stayed silent for a while.

"I think you should go back to your Common Room."

"Yes, Sir."

Remus had the feeling Professor Dumbledore had said something really important he had not been able to understand. Would he ever? Still, it could not be that important. There were three people down there, people his own age, who knew exactly what he was and were not afraid of it. He wanted to enjoy the feeling for as long as possible.