I followed Remus through the silent corridors of Hogwarts, watching him turn his head nervously from side to side. He would creep like a thief through the darkened passages of Hogwarts, but when he came past a patrolling teacher, he would give a respectful nod, and they would return it. What he didn't see was the knot that would appear in their foreheads when he wasn't looking, the piteous glance they would cast over their shoulders. I didn't understand. Why was he acting nervous when he wasn't afraid of teachers? And why did they all look like that at him?

Remus headed right to the doors of Hogwarts, where he was met by Madam Pomfrey. She greeted him like an old friend with a smile and a small hug. Then, she pulled a vial out from one of her many pockets in her nightgown.

"Some of Slughorn's special stuff," she said, in a way that would have been patronising if it hadn't been said with so much warmth. Remus took it gratefully and downed it in one go, wincing at the taste. Then, they continued out the castle, and towards the Whomping Willow.

I held back, watching as Remus neared the plant cautiously, Madam Pomfrey at his side. The tree began to sway its branches, irritated. I flinched, but Remus stood his ground, still moving further towards it. With a kindness I had rarely seen from him, Remus pressed a comforting hand against one of the tree's knots, and it stilled. Then swung himself down a pit and was gone, Madam Pomfrey turning back and walking exhaustedly past where I stood. She paused for a moment, looking directly at me, and then shrugged and kept walking.

I ran towards the tree, confused. Where had he gone? Suddenly, I heard a crack and felt a twig scrape past my arm, the Willow having nearly hit me square in the face. I ducked another attack from the other side, and watched as again a branch above me began to descend at a frightening speed. I lunged forward but lost my footing and felt something like my ankle being pulled down into deep darkness. Air was ripped from my lungs as I plummeted downwards, hitting the ground with a dull thud.

A little way in front of me, Remus, wand lit, turned around. I froze, clapping a hand over my mouth so he couldn't hear me breathing. He flashed his wand over to where I stood but, seeing nothing, turned back around and carried on. I followed.

We walked for a short while when we began to ascend what seemed like a hill, and finally emerged into a dank, dusty room. Remus staggered through it, his joints clicking as he did, into the next room over. I followed a little way, and then bunched myself up in a corner where the wall and doorpost of the first room met, watching Remus from a distance.

The walk to this place had taken its toll on him. His walk, usually upright and proud, was hunched over, his shoulders constantly contorting. He snarled, a noise I had never heard a human make before, and tore his shirt from his body, followed by his trousers, as if they were obstructive. I gasped.

I realised that I had never, until that moment, seen Remus in anything but his robes, or trousers and a jumper before. The only skin I ever saw was on his face and hands, and even then he often kept his sleeves up to his knuckles. Now, I knew why.

The cold, white moonlight revealed the horrors that laid marked on his skin. Long, silver scars ran up and down his arms and legs, and his chest was completely bruised and scratched, even now I saw some pus still oozing from a particularly long gash on his back. What was this? What could have happened to my friend to cause him so much pain? I looked away, not wanting to see the savagery that stained his innocent flesh.

But I had to look back, because again the crack in his joints had grown louder, and he groaned as he threw himself back impossibly far, causing his spine to make the most horriffic noises I had ever heard. He cried out in pain, lunging forward and throwing himself to the floor, digging into the wood with his fingernails. He snarled again, through clenched teeth, and stood, reaching up into the air. As he did, his small body began to change. It morphed in a series of snaps and cracks that tore heartwrenching screams from his chest. I watched as tears cascaded down his pale face until his face was no longer pale.

What stood before me wasn't Remus any more.

The thing he had grown into was twice the size Remus was, somewhat like a wolf but with a tufty tail and a different snout. And his eyes. Remus' eyes were the only thing that made me sure I was looking at him, because they looked around with the same intelligent haughtiness and kindness that only he could quite pull off.

Wolf-Remus lunged forward towards me, and I rolled out of the way, just in time for him to land in the spot where I had just been. He looked around, disappointed, and began to sulk around the room, as if looking for prey. When he found nothing, he threw up his head and howled.

At first, all he did was howl, striding up and down the room howling and howling, lunging at anything that so much as fluttered because of the small disturbance he had made in the air passing it. When he found that there was nothing living to find, his attitude turned angry, and he clawed furiously at the ground and then, at himself.

I watched, flinching, as I finally understood why Remus' skin was so scarred. It was because of this. With nothing to scratch and claw at, he would scratch and claw himself, persistently dragging his claws through his chest, arms and legs, yelping at the pain, but ignoring it, fighting through it, inflicting more of it.

At some point, I fell asleep, listening to the helpless howls of my mutant friend.

I awoke to sunlight at the window, muted by the dust. In the middle of the floor lay Remus, a naked, exhausted body covered in new lasserations. I crawled tentatively over to him, almost afraid that he might bite again. But he wasn't wolf-Remus any more. He was my friend again, just a twelve year old boy. He looked so small, lying curled up in a ball on the floor, breathing shaky breaths, practically convusling. I took off the cloak and the dressing gown I was wearing stiffly, and tenderly threw it over him, tucking it in under him. A hand snatched my wrist as I began to move away. He was awake.

"J-James?" he asked, suddenly aware of everything around him. He sat up, pulling my dressing gown around him. "James, what are you doing here? I could have hurt you!" He sounded angry

"I know... Remus, what was that?" I asked, rubbing my eyes and stretching. I hadn't moved from my position all night, and my muscles were protesting with every movement I made.

"It was..." Remus paused for a second, as if unsure if he should tell me.

"Remus, I just saw everything. If you don't tell me, it won't be hard to find out myself. Please?"

Remus nodded.

"What you just witnessed is lycanthropy. When a man turns into a wolf, or, a boy. Lycanthropy is an infection..."

"It can be given to you? How?" I asked, astonished. More importantly, who? Remus smiled a soft, ironic smile.

"My father's a lot like you, James. He always speaks his mind. Also like you, he rarely thinks about the consequences. No doubt you've heard of Fenrir Greyback?"

"Of course," I said, wanted posters with his face plastered on them dominated most of the Wizarding World, "he's one of the world's most notorious werewolves. He's the one who bites all those kids, right? Says he wants to teach them to hate wizards... Oh, Remus," I said, suddenly realising what I had said. Remus' eyes glistened with tears, but he continued with the same, sad smile.

"Yes, James, I am a werewolf. I was bitten by Fenrir Greyback when I was little. Now, I live like this, I come to this shack every full moon, and I deal with my transformations."

"Does it... hurt?" I asked, staring at his arms.

"This?" he asked, gesturing to his scars. "This hurts like hell. But it's not half as bad as the transformation is. It burns your whole insides, and it feels like it's breaking every bone in eight different places one by one. It's the kind of pain where every time, you think it will get better. You think you'll be able to handle it this time, but each time is as bad as the last." I tried not to pity him, I tried not to give him the same look passing teachers did, but I couldn't help but extend an arm to timidly pat his shoulder comfortingly.

"I suppose I'll just leave you alone now," he said, not looking at me.

"What?" I asked, confused.

"It's all right. I'm not used to having friends anyway. Just, promise not to tell everybody? Ok? Maybe even not the group?"

"Remus, I'm still going to be friends with you," I said, as if it were obvious. I smiled, but he looked unconvinced.

"James, you don't have to, it's Ok. People leave me all the time. Nobody wants to be friends with..." Remus mumbled, fiddling with a few loose threads on my dressing gown. He looked so sad, so small. I couldn't help it, looking at him and understanding why other people would leave him. And I hated myself for it. Nobody should have to live a life without friends, especially not a boy as special as Remus. And so, instead of accepting his offer and leaving, I spoke.

"Remus," I said, "Remus, look at me," he looked up, his weary eyes almost not allowing themselves to be hopeful. "Remus, you are my friend. You will always be my friend, as long as we live I swear to you that I will never reject you for something as unimportant as this furry little problem" He chuckled at the expression, and then pondered what I had said.

"People are going to think I have a deranged rabbit." he said. I laughed and clapped a hand on his shoulder. It wasn't enough for him, and he threw his arms around me in a brotherly hug, clutching my back. I hugged him back, feeling warm moisture begin to fall on my shoulder.

"Thank you, James," he said, choking back his sobs, "this is the first time I've ever felt like I'm not alone."

We parted and stood, Remus retrieving some clothes he had stashed away earlier. He stretched and checked his watch.

"It's nearly seven already!" he exclaimed, peering out the window to see the sun beginning to rise.

"No," I said, under my breath, remembering. "No, no, NO!"

"What is it, James?" asked Remus.

"The match! The first match of the season against Ravenclaw! It's today!" Hearing this, Remus grabbed my arm and we ran back to Hogwarts, where the rest of the school was awaking, ready to watch the first match of the season. Excited Gryffindors stretched and felt excitement course through their veins, ready to watch their star chaser win them the first match. But their star chaser could barely keep his eyes open