Remus, too, arrived back at Hogwarts for his third year with a lot on his mind.

One day late in August, Remus had come downstairs from his room, where he was packing his school things into his trunk, to overhear his parents arguing in hushed tones in the kitchen.

"I don't see why this is necessary right now," Lyall was saying. "He hasn't mentioned a single girl from his school. We'd just be putting ideas into his head if we bring it up too early."

"But it isn't too early," Hope was insisting. "When I was growing up, girls got counseling from the school nurse at age eleven. Remus will be fourteen this year!"

"I dunno, I guess wizards don't really get counseling on this sort of stuff," his father said sheepishly. "We just kind of…learn on our own as things come up."

"As things come up?" his mum repeated incredulously, her voice strained. "Who knows what things come up at boarding school? Wouldn't you rather he's well-informed? It's for his own good!"

Both of his parents jumped when Remus appeared at the kitchen doorway. "What's for my own good?" he asked.

Lyall sighed and rubbed a hand over his face. "Well, your mother thinks it's time we had a talk." He shot an irked look at Hope. "About…man stuff. So, I suppose that the task will fall to me."

"Man stuff?"

"He means sexual education," Hope cut in, returning Lyall's glare. "There is no need to beat around the bush or call it names. This is a perfectly natural thing that every parent should discuss with their child. And there is no way I am leaving it all to your father if he is going to call it 'man stuff.' We can all talk about it together." She pulled out a chair for Remus at the kitchen table. "Sit, Remus, please."

"Right now?" his dad coughed.

"No time like the present," his mum responded tartly, pouring out three cups of tea.

"I already know about sex," Remus said, hoping that might end the conversation. He didn't know much, actually, but he also didn't really care to know more. And he definitely didn't want to talk about it with his parents.

"What do you know about it?" Hope asked kindly.

Remus rolled his eyes. "Seriously, Mum? Why do you need me to say it out loud?" There was a long pause where all three Lupins stared at each other across the table. Once Remus realized his mum wasn't giving up, he sighed and recited what he'd gathered over the years. "Sex is when men and women put their privates together to make a baby."

"Sometimes they also shag for fun," Lyall added, grinning.

Hope shot him another glare. "That's what we wanted to talk to you about, dear," she said to Remus. "You might hear about boys and girls at your school doing it for fun. You might, if you haven't already, feel some curiosity about doing it yourself."

"Not really," Remus said.

"You've always been such a serious boy," his mum said, putting a hand on his arm. "So mature for your age. But it's alright to be curious about sex. Your father and I only want to emphasize that it isn't something to do willy-nilly just because all your friends are doing it. We hope you'll wait until you're older, but if you really want to try it, we need to teach you to be responsible and safe."

"I don't want to try it," Remus said flatly. He fought the urge to roll his eyes again. This was yet another case of his parents making a mountain out of a molehill, worrying themselves over nothing.

"Maybe not yet, but pretty soon, the urge will be there," his dad said.

"You never know," his mum added, smiling. "Boys and girls get their first crushes around your age. You might think a girl is pretty and get the wriggles in your insides whenever you're alone with her, like your stomach is doing somersaults."

Lyall let out a short laugh. "Well, I suppose that's one version of what happens when you fancy someone," he said wryly.

Now Remus was paying attention. Remus had never wanted to shag anyone, as far as he knew, but he was definitely familiar with the wriggles. They'd happened the day Sirius first taught him how to fly. They'd happened the night he and Sirius built a sheet fort together. They happened pretty much whenever Remus saw Sirius truly happy, his guard down, flashing that brilliant wicked grin.

Remus had always brushed these feelings off. He assumed it was just excitement at finally having a friend, someone who made him feel cool and pushed him to take risks. Was it so wrong to like seeing Sirius happy, when Sirius deserved so much more than his rubbish home life? Was it so wrong to feel special when Sirius chose to spend rare time with him, rather than James? But even as Remus recited these reasons to himself now, he wasn't sure he believed them. A tiny tendril of dread snaked its way into his chest.

"Do you have any questions we can answer?" Hope asked, looking concerned at Remus's silence. "Even if you aren't ready to try it yet—which we're relieved to hear, honestly—I still want you to feel comfortable asking us anything, anytime."

"Actually, Mum, can I ask Dad something in private?" Remus mumbled. His tongue felt thick and awkward.

This seemed to make his mum uneasy, but she nodded. "Of course." And she left and headed upstairs, out of earshot.

Remus thought carefully about the words he wanted to use, but they did not come readily. After a few moments of silence in which Lyall drummed his fingertips nervously on the kitchen table, Remus said, "I just want to know—to make sure of something—I want to know, what's your version? Of what happens when you fancy someone?"

His dad let out a small chuckle. "It's probably not the same for everyone, but you'll know it when you feel it." Seeing that Remus was dissatisfied with this, he clarified, "A good bet is when you feel something down there."

"Something like what?" Remus pressed.

Lyall blinked a couple times, and then replied, "Well, it could feel warm, and heavy, and—" He broke off and instead mimed with his hands. "I'm sure it already happens to you every now and then."

Remus knew the sensation his dad was describing. He was usually alone in bed when it happened, and he could often ease it away by rolling over onto his stomach. Still, he wasn't gaining any more clarity on the question of Sirius. "So, it sometimes happens for no reason? Like when you're sleeping?" he asked.

Lyall nodded. "But it also happens when you want to shag. There's no mistaking it. You'll know."

"Does it ever happen around people you don't want to shag? Like friends?"

Lyall smirked. "Well, if it happens around someone regularly, then you like her as more than a friend." He turned a shrewd eye toward his son. "Why? You think you might fancy anyone at school?"

Remus felt all the blood in his body rushing to his face. "I dunno," he muttered. "I was just wondering. Thanks, Dad."

It was all he could do to force the words out before he scraped his chair back from the table, darted upstairs into his room, and dove under his pillow to press his burning cheeks to the coolness there. It was hours before he was brave enough to go downstairs again and face his parents for supper. Thankfully, they showed no sign that they thought his behavior was abnormal and didn't bring it up again.

Even so, when Remus returned to Hogwarts, the question hung over him like a mist: Did he fancy Sirius? The wriggles hit him stronger than ever, now that Remus knew what they could mean. On the first day back, when he met up with his friends in a train compartment, Remus noticed immediately how his stomach flip-flopped when he saw Sirius. The other boy's previously long hair was cut shorter now, but he still looked as regal as ever. His hair fell over his forehead in something of a fringe, and the dark strands brought out the dark flecks in his grey eyes.

Sirius caught Remus staring, but mistook it for ridicule. "What, Remus, don't like my new haircut?" He laughed. "I was bored one day and did it myself, and I wasn't too careful. My mum, the rotten harpy, she nearly died when she saw it. This was the best she could do to fix it with her wand. But I guess that's what happens when you lock your son in his room for seven weeks."

"That ought to be illegal," James commented fiercely. "You're coming to stay with me next summer, I don't care what your parents say. It won't be any trouble at all—Mum likes you! She asked after you at least once a week this summer."

Remus felt a surge of jealousy at the thought of Sirius staying with James for a whole summer and dreamed, though he knew it was hopeless, that he could somehow convince Hope and Lyall to let Sirius stay with them instead. Stop it, he thought. James is only trying to help. There's no use making Sirius choose…he'd never choose you.

In an effort to relax, he leaned his forehead against the cold glass of the train window and closed his eyes. But his thoughts jumped almost immediately back to the hippogriff in the room, the tiny kernel of dread that he'd been worrying at for days. What did all this mean? Did it mean he fancied boys rather than girls? For some reason, it didn't feel as simple as this or that—boys or girls. Remus had never fancied anyone except, maybe now, Sirius. But did that mean Remus was…gay? Boys at Hogwarts sometimes joked around, calling each other poofs and such, but Remus didn't know a single actual gay person. A werewolf and gay—that would just be Remus's luck, wouldn't it? He'd definitely hold the record for the most secrets in one teenage boy. But didn't you have to shag other boys to be gay? Did he want to shag Sirius?

Remus's eyes popped open at that last thought. Did he? Remus longed for answers, for someone to ask, but he wouldn't know how to begin to describe his situation—it was strange enough just living it.

"Are you alright, Remus?" he heard Peter asking from what felt like a great distance away. "Are you sick again?"

He plastered on the most convincing smile he could manage and turned back to his friends. "No, I'm fine," he said. "Just thinking, that's all."

"What else is new?" James quipped. "I swear, one day, I'm going to commission someone to make a statue of Remus and name it…"—he paused for dramatic effect— "…the Over-Thinker." He leaned forward and propped his chin on his fist in an exaggerated imitation of the famous statue.

"Since when do you know about art?" Remus demanded.

James shrugged. "Well, Mum and Dad took me to Paris this summer. I came back a changed man."

"Don't be daft," Sirius said, elbowing him in the ribs. "You'll never be anything but an uncultured swine. Now, my summer break was way more interesting."

"But weren't you locked away the whole time?" Peter pointed out.

"Yeah, how come you never mentioned anything? We talked like every day," James added. Remus felt another stab of jealousy rising in his throat and worked his jaws to swallow it down. "Well, except—"

"Except for that one week or so," Sirius finished for him, a stormy look crossing his face. "Right, well, there was a reason I couldn't say anything. You're not gonna believe what was going on at my house."

As Sirius launched into his story, Remus was happy for the momentary distraction from his own thoughts, and for the excuse to watch Sirius's lips move.

The next day, the Gryffindor third-years queued up alphabetically outside of Professor McGonagall's office so she could collect their Hogsmeade forms and give them a bit of counseling to make sure their elective choices were on track before lessons began.

Peter and James, several spots behind Remus in line, were elbowing and wrestling with one another as usual, unperturbed. But Remus felt anxious. He knew that his elective choices now would dictate which O.W.L. exams he sat for, which would then determine his N.E.W.T.s and the rest of his life. Remus always thought like this, leaping several steps ahead while his peers seemed completely oblivious.

Ahead, the door to Professor McGonagall's office flung open and Sirius burst out, scowling.

"What's the matter?" asked Remus, catching him by the arm as he made to storm away.

Sirius grunted. "I asked Minnie what it takes to become an Auror. I want to catch dark wizards and give them what they deserve."

Remus thought privately that this was probably the only job in the world that might keep Sirius's interest for very long. "And?"

"She said I had the marks, especially in Defense, but that I had to stop getting detentions or nobody would recommend me to the Ministry when I graduate. Apparently, I have 'poor impulse control'."

Remus clapped a hand hurriedly over his mouth to cover up his smile. He furrowed his brow, attempting to look concerned.

Sirius leaned against the wall, glaring at the other Gryffindors as they came and went from the office. "Well, what does Minnie know, anyway?" he finally grumbled. "MacDougal saw what I can do in Dueling Club—I'll just have to write him at Durmstrang and ask him for a recommendation."

Just as James had predicted, last year's Defense professor had once again abandoned them after only a single year in the post, to accept a Deputy Headmaster position at another wizarding school.

"I'm sure you'll also impress Professor Wrightwood," Remus assured Sirius, referring to their newest Defense professor. "Dumbledore said she came here from the Auror's Office, so her recommendation will mean a lot."

"Yeah, but she's here on leave from the Auror's Office," Sirius argued. "Don't you think that's suspicious?"

Remus shrugged. "Not necessarily. Maybe Dumbledore couldn't find anyone else and asked her to leave so she could come fill in."

"Apparently, though, it's involuntarily leave," the girl standing behind Remus, Mary Macdonald, piped up. "Lily told me Slughorn let it slip at the Slug Club meeting on the train."

Sirius raised his eyebrows. "See, I told you! Suspicious."

"Slughorn is supposed to have tons of connections in the Auror Office, Sirius," Mary offered, smiling at him. "You could ask him for a recommendation. I think you'd make a great Auror. You're the best in our year at Defense and everyone knows it."

Sirius grinned at her, his scowl finally clearing, and Remus turned away from them, feeling irritated. Luckily, it was only a few moments before Samantha Jordan exited the office and held the door open for Remus, who was next. "See you later," he mumbled to Sirius, who was now eagerly telling Mary about how Slughorn once invited him to the Slug Club but revoked the invitation after he beat up a Slytherin the Muggle way.

"I was defending my honor," he heard Sirius boasting as the door slammed shut. He rubbed his face and sighed.

Professor McGonagall, sitting at her desk, peered at him over the tops of her glasses. "Are you alright, Mr. Lupin? You look a bit grey." She paused. "It isn't—you know—that time for you…"

"No," Remus said firmly, handing her the signed Hogsmeade form clutched in his fist. "I'm fine, Professor."

She shot him another concerned look. "Take a seat, and have a biscuit, will you?" She pushed a tin of biscuits toward him while Remus settled into a small armchair across from her. "I presume you are aware that your career discussions will be different than the other students'. Given the Ministry regulations for your condition, I'm afraid your options are rather limited."

Remus knew this in theory, of course, which was partly why he pushed so hard to get high marks. He figured that, werewolf or not, being near the top of the class in every subject would mean something. But hearing it in Professor McGonagall's no-nonsense tone made it seem like a much more dire prognosis. He felt a lump rising in his throat and coughed to clear it. "How limited, exactly?"

She must have noticed his face fall because her voice softened. "Any work with the Ministry, or Ministry-subsidized entities like St. Mungo's or Gringotts, is unlikely. You'll have to find a private employer, one sympathetic to werewolves, and a position that does not interface with children or the public. So, childcare, education, hospitality, and retail are most likely not possibilities either."

"So, what does that leave me with, then?"

Professor McGonagall wrote a few things down and then handed him the sheet of parchment. Her handwriting, like the rest of her, was clean, neat, and no-nonsense. "I don't usually suggest specific careers to my students," she said. "I'd rather let them follow their natural aptitudes and curiosities. But in your special case, Mr. Lupin, I feel it is in your best interest if I do, to allow you to acquire the relevant skills."

Remus looked down at the first few lines. Wild plant harvester, it read. Wand core scavenger. Night-shift caretaker.

"Relevant skills?" he whispered.

"Well, for example, you'll want to pay extra close attention in Herbology, if you plan to harvest wild plants and sell them to Potions Masters and apothecaries," Professor McGonagall said kindly. "With a few steady clients, you can make quite a good living. I know Professor Slughorn, for one, does not brave the wilderness to collect his own ingredients." She gave him a thin-lipped smile. "He likes his creature comforts, that man."

Remus could not bring himself to smile back.

"Perhaps you ought to make a point of partnering with Mr. Pettigrew in Herbology from now on," she continued. "Professor Sprout tells me he's quite gifted in her subject." A muscle in the professor's cheek twitched as she, most likely, stopped herself from adding a sharp comment about Peter's ghastly Transfiguration skills.

Remus nodded absently. "But what about Arithmancy?" he asked hopefully. "It sounds so interesting—I've already signed up—"

Her cheek twitched again, this time in what looked like regret. "Arithmancy is most often used for advanced magical research. Exploring the fundamental properties of magic for the Department of Mysteries, breaking curses for Gringotts, et cetera. I encourage you to pursue your interest in it while at Hogwarts, of course, but you may never use the knowledge, unless you'd like to try inventing new spells. You never know, with the fads around spells—one might just catch on."

The professor was trying to be upbeat, but Remus could read between the lines. He turned back to the list. "Alright, well, what about being a scavenger?" he asked, his lips numb.

"For wandmakers," Professor McGonagall said. "Unicorn hairs, phoenix feathers. You're starting Care of Magical Creatures this year?" Remus nodded, and she looked pleased. "Good. Perhaps you should also consider spending one day a week apprenticing with our gamekeeper, Hagrid."

Remus fought hard to keep his eyes from filling with tears as he mumbled, "And if I want to be a night-time caretaker, should I apprentice with Filch?"

"Filch?" Professor McGonagall repeated, her stern face growing even softer. She seemed to realize that Remus was picturing the pathetic Hogwarts caretaker, limping around the vast castle with a mop, a bucket, and no wand. "Of course not. Most caretakers use magic. For that, you'll just need to keep up your high marks in Charms. Are you planning to stay on in Charms Club this year?"

Remus nodded.

"Excellent," she said. "Rising to club leader in the next few years will do you good. Any other questions?"

Remus couldn't think of a single thing to say. He shook his head.

"Then enjoy your afternoon, Mr. Lupin. I'll see you in my classroom tomorrow."

He rose from the armchair, his heart heavy. Usually he looked forward to Transfiguration, but now that he'd seen his future, was there really any point?

Author's Note: Agh, poor Remus :( I remember going through puberty and questioning sexuality, all while being a shy kid and a chronic over-thinker. Not fun!

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