In the morning it took Remus ages to get out of bed. He felt bone-tired, and his mind was very foggy as he struggled to get dressed. He thought he did decently but as he tried to leave Sirius stopped him to point out he was wearing his pajama pants. Remus disappeared behind his curtains to change those out then shuffled along to the Great Hall.

To his sleepy delight his parents sent an owl which gave him the perfect opportunity to lie as he wanted to use his mother as an excuse. He opened up the letter, pretended to read a bit, then folded it up, tucking it away. "Looks like it didn't work," he said.

"What didn't?" James asked.

"The, um, potion Mum and I took to hopefully help us," Remus explained carefully as he stirred his porridge. "Mum's gotten sick again, it's pretty bad. I—I think I might go after classes."

Sirius and James looked at each other in the sort of manner that meant something. Remus stiffened, clutching his spoon as he tried to figure out what was going on. Then there was a soft sort of sound from under the table and James very slightly, briefly flinched. Had Sirius kicked him? "I'm sorry to hear that," James finally said.

"What happened?" Peter asked. "Did the medicine make it worse?"

"I don't th—think so," Remus said, unnerved by James and Sirius, anxious about those expressions. What did they mean?

"Are you getting sick too?" Sirius inquired.

"M... me? No. Why?"

"You don't look too well." Sirius's eyes scanned him up and down then settled on his face again. "You look pretty awful, no offense."

Remus ducked his head, poking at the glop of food in his bowl. "I'm fine," he said uncomfortably. So that's what was with those looks, they thought he was going into a relapse.

"Yeah, you look super sick," Peter said, peering into Remus's face.

"You look like you should go to a healer too," agreed James.

"Are you sure—" Sirius started however Remus interrupted with a rather explosive, "I'm fine!" They all recoiled at Remus's tone who immediately regretted how he had spoken. "S—sorry, I'm just... really worried about my mum."

They all mumbled incoherently back then returned to their breakfasts. Remus poked at his, wondering if the reason Sirius was so overbearing about all this was because of that comment he made not long ago, about whether or not Remus's illness was fatal. He glanced surreptitiously towards his friend then back down. At least he knew Sirius didn't think that he was a werewolf; he had gone through a terrifying, horrifying, sickening period near the end of their first year when he thought Sirius suspected however Sirius told Remus he thought Remus was a good person. That plus the fact Sirius willingly did things like poke Remus or put an arm around him sorta proved he didn't suspect at all, because what twelve year old pureblood would ever do such things towards a monster?

Still... it seemed like Sirius's determination to pry into his illness had been going up since their second year started... he hoped Sirius wouldn't be like this all year...

Mondays and Fridays were the roughest days class-wise, so this Friday coupled with the moon coming up did not bode well. Starting with Potions didn't bode well either. He collapsed into his seat, feeling nauseated by the smells of the ingredients sitting out. Slughorn began pacing back and forth, patting his oversized stomach as he explained the potion they'd be working on. Remus sort of tuned in and out, fighting off the urge to constantly yawn. They were partnered up, allowed to choose their own partners. As usual, Remus ended up with Sirius who goofed off while Remus sleepily read out the instructions. He grew grouchy over the fact Sirius wasn't... well, being serious about this. He needed better grades. Just because Sirius didn't care...

"Could you please pay attention?" he finally asked.

"I am!" Sirius promised, cocking his head to one side. "Sorta."

Remus was too tired to argue and unsurprised when they received a P. They had Charms next which Remus struggled through, then he slept during lunch. He tried hard to stay wake but his entire body sang with absolute exhaustion.

"You sure—like, sure-sure—you're not getting sick again?" Peter asked when he woke up when the bell rang.

He shook his head. "Fine. I mean, no—I mean, yeah I'm sure. Just tired. And worried. About my mother."

They had a free period before History which was spent outside. Remus fell asleep again which meant he was able to somehow get through History then Transfiguration. Professor McGonagall certainly noticed Remus having difficulty performing his spells however also knew why, so she didn't draw attention to it.

After class his friends began begging him to go to the hospital wing. Remus kept assuring them he felt fine, temper slowly growing until he snapped. "I am FINE!" he yelled, hitching his satchel up higher on his shoulder. "Stop telling me how I must feel because I know how I feel, and I am not SICK!"

James snapped right back with, "You look ready to collapse at any second!"

"I don't give a flying jarvey how I look, I know how I feel and it isn't sick!" He shot glares at all three of them.

"So... are we not supposed to be concerned about you?" Peter asked, voice climbing a little with distress.

Remus clenched his teeth. "I... appreciate the concern. I really do. It's just frustrating being told how other people think I'm doing, especially when I've clearly communicated I feel perfectly fine." Sirius grabbed his arm, hauling him off. Remus gave a squawk of protest, then struggled to get free to no avail. Sirius just kept pulling him into a bathroom and in front of a mirror. He flinched at his own reflection. He did look ready to just keel over. He looked really bad. "Again, I don't care how I look. I'm fine. Why can't you just listen to me?"

James folded his arms. "Well, excuse me for being worried!"

"Why can't you just believe me?!" James jabbed his finger towards the mirror. Remus let out a sound of disgust. "Merlin. I am fine, I do not feel sick at all. My mum is sick, not me."

"You can be sick at the same time your mum is," Sirius pointed out.

"I—I'm not saying I can't be! I'm only saying—just—please, can we drop it?" He searched their faces, a sinking feeling that they wouldn't.

Sure enough... "Could you at least go see Pomfrey before you leave?" James asked, pushing his hair back. "Please?"

Remus scowled, anger building up, the wolf starting to pace, wanting to come out, wanting to lash out. "Why? To ease your minds since you don't believe me? No. I'm not sick."

James suddenly put a hand against Remus's forehead. "You might have a fever—"

Remus pushed his hand away, backing up, a little shocked at the sudden touch, a lot shocked at how insistent they were being. It was really grating against him and beginning to make him a bit panicked. "Just DROP IT!" He wished he had stated he was ill but now he couldn't go back. It was more of the fact they were infuriating him with their nosiness. He was sick with them trying to pressure him over all of this. It made him really edgy. "Please," he added.

"Right," James said a bit stiffly. "I'll just not be at all alarmed over the fact you look like you're so sick. It's not my business, is it?"

"James—"

"Not like friends aren't suppose to care about each other," he continued, ignoring Remus. "I mean, if I looked as bad off as you do—"

"You don't, though!" Remus cut him off now with a cry. James closed his mouth, eyes widening. "Okay? None of you know what I'm going through!" He felt his nose itch as he tried to find footing in the dark. Perhaps he should have just gone to Pomfrey, acquiesced to their demands, but their prying into his secrets had really set him off. "You just don't get it! I'm glad you care about me enough to worry but you need to bloody take into account what I am SAYING!" The worst part was how right they were, how horrible he felt, how physically dreadful, how much he just wanted to sleep until sundown. "My illness is my business. Not yours. Any of yours," he added, shooting a look towards Sirius who looked vaguely guilty. "I don't care if I look like I'm on death's door, about to drop dead... it's my affair!" His voice began shaking, threatening to break as he fought back tears.

James let out a sort of huffy, surprised sound then just stared stonily at him, trembling very slightly. He finally turned and left the bathroom without another word, slamming the door shut so hard it rattled the mirrors.

Nobody spoke for several seconds then Peter edged towards the door. "Um," he said in a nervous, fluttery sort of voice. "I—I think... he's just... I mean... he—he did just... lose his grandfather... Um, I mean, I think that's why he might be so worried... well, um, sorry—sorry." Then he scurried out after James.

Remus slumped back, having completely forgotten about James's grandfather. And he went and said that about death and... "Merlin," he moaned, putting his head in his hands. He completely screwed things up. How much more insensitive could he have been?! James's worries were annoying, but... seeing his grandfather... then... "You can go too," he mumbled, muffled from the palms of his hand covering his mouth.

Sirius shifted his weight so he stood closer to Remus. "I'm in both sides of the camp here, Remy. I'm worried about you but I do think he was pushing you too much." Then after a second, "I know I've pushed you in the past too. Didn't really realize how crappy it was of me until I saw someone else do it."

"I'm just going to go home to see my mother," Remus said softly, still covering his face, wishing Sirius would go so he could be alone. Sirius didn't budge. "You should... see if James is all right..."

"Yeah. All right. Be careful—er, I'll see you... in a couple days."

Sirius left the bathroom and when the door clicked shut behind him Remus dropped to his knees, wrapping his arms around his middle as he bent forward, tears dripping down. He felt so stupid. He shouldn't have said... of course, James had said things about dying since then but—well, that was probably different. Making jokes was one thing, coming from someone who looked as sick as Remus was another thing entirely. He knew he needed to apologize however didn't think he had to strength to go after James right now. Plus he'd probably just mess it up even more, with as thick as he was at being a human.

He staggered to his feet, wiping his face off on his sleeve before miserably heading to the hospital wing.

/\/\/\/\/\

Pomfrey took him all the way to the house this time, stomping along the tunnel. She didn't say much but radiated disapproval until they finally climbed up into the battered living room. She repeated everything McGonagall had already told him: that if he didn't send a message within an hour after sunrise she'd come and get him, he needed to leave a message before sundown, etc, etc. She also mentioned that the fridge would be well stocked, and they had all the linen and towels cleaned a few days ago. She gave a loud sniff as if to further show how much she disliked this, then pat his shoulder wishing him luck.

After she left Remus sunk down onto the couch. He was too depressed over what happened with James to do much of anything except hug a pillow and stare at the empty fireplace. He kept hearing himself saying it didn't matter if he dropped dead, then James's voice repeating some of the stuff he said in his letter over the summer, about his nightmares, about being buried with his grandfather. Part of why he had completely forgotten was James barely spoke about what happened over the summer. He acted perfectly fine. But Remus of all people should know the facade others put on to hide what was going on underneath. It could very well be James had been privately anguishing over the death of his grandfather all this time. Then Remus looks sick, James gets worried, and Remus said that about it not mattering if he looked about to die.

He rolled over, clinging tighter to the pillow. He didn't completely regret standing up for himself, because it wasn't their business at all. He didn't want them knowing much, asking questions, trying to slide themselves into what went on in the hospital wing. It'd be far too dangerous. He needed to keep them at a distance in that respect. Should keep them at a distance period, he thought. Maybe I should never told them I was sick.

He sat up now, rubbing his eyes. No. He knew he wouldn't be able to get away with that. Not with the way he tended to look around the full moon, it was quite obvious there was something chronic going on with him. I have to give it a name, he decided. That could get them off his back. He'd need to do research into Muggle blood diseases that passed on genetically that fit the symptoms he had. He'd need to find Muggle medical books. How? Fawley? Would Fawley be able to help him? He didn't want to rely on her too much, she had already done so much for him. Would Pomfrey know? Surely she had to have some Muggle medical books, in case of Muggleborns having Muggle diseases. Though he supposed it could be magical too. After all, even though his mum was Muggle nobody could know for sure her entire ancestral history, she could very well have had a magical ancestor.

I'll look into magical diseases first. The library would have plenty of medical books, right?

Although there was always the chance he couldn't find anything exactly right... or that giving more lies could turn on him. He was already lying so much, should he do more? Should he keep on like this, or build up more falsehoods? He regretted every mentioning the stupid cure thing but—it was all just so frustrating, and confusing! He wished things could be easier..

/\/\/\/\/\

Remus cried out in pain as his body twisted, the fur disappearing, his bones shrinking, his form going from giant wolf to small boy. He lay on the ground, panting softly for air as the initial pain of transforming back subsided and he could take note of what continued to hurt. His chest. His right leg. His shoulder, a little bit.

He closed his eyes, reaching out for some kind of cloth to cover himself, resting a little bit before he went to get cleaned up before Pomfrey got there. He was about to drift back into sleep when he remembered Pomfrey wasn't coming! He opened his eyes, sitting up then hissing in pain. I need to get to the bathroom! He looked down at his body. There were some deep scratches on his chest, awful teeth marks in his right thigh, and a gouge out of his right calf. He couldn't really see anything wrong with his shoulder but it kinda burned so maybe it was torn on the inside. He shifted, testing out how much his leg hurt before getting up. He nearly fell then forced himself into the bathroom, leaving a trail of blood.

He washed his hands then picked up the piece of chalk, about to write a message then he hesitated. I need to be honest, he thought. If he ever lied about his state of well being and they found out they'd probably never let him be alone. So he sat down on the toilet to again assess his body. The scratches and shoulder would be fine. The gouge in the leg was nasty but he thought it'd be manageable. The rest of the scratches were definitely nothing to be too concerned about. The bite mark, however, was pretty deep and bleeding pretty bad, and in his thigh. He tried to remember where the arteries were that could be dangerous if they were sliced into. He thought they were on the inner thigh, so the bite on the outside should be okay... right?

He got back up and wrote on the chalkboard.

I'm feeling okay. Bite on my thigh but it is outside of thigh so should be okay? Is that where the main artery is?

He stood back, waiting with a pounding heart. It took a moment but then Pomfrey's handwriting appeared. Femoral artery is on inner thigh. How deep is the bite mark?

Remus replied it wasn't that deep, and that it was his worst wound. He promised he'd be fine, and thanked her, then got into the shower. It hurt a lot to clean himself off then he staggered out, pulling bandages out of the medicine cabinet. He wrapped them around his lower and upper leg, then plastered bandages on his chest, wrapping gauze around to keep them in place without a spell. They didn't look the best, but they'd do.

He limped upstairs, pulling himself along the handrail, whimpering every time he put weight on his right leg. Finally he reached the bedroom then stared in horror. The wardrobe was mostly intact but he had tried to break into it sometime during the night. There were splintered bits on the floor, and a very tiny, narrow, vertical hole in one door. He knew the previous year he had tried to get into the wardrobe before but it had never been this bad.

Will it hold up till Monday? he wondered, unlocking the door so he could get to his clothes. He had at least remembered to bring gentle clothes with him. Baggy sweatpants and an enormous t-shirt that swallowed him. He decided not to bother with the underwear, not wanting to try to get them over his leg wounds. Then he pulled on socks, crawled into the bed, and fell asleep.

/\/\/\/\/\

Remus woke up sometime in the afternoon, not sure what time it was. He made his way downstairs, going to the bathroom real quick before scrounging around in the fridge. He didn't have the energy to do much, just slap together a sandwich. He missed the chocolate shakes Pomfrey had been making for him towards the end of his first year. Would it be too awful to ask if the house-elves could supply a few in the fridge?

Now what? Normally he slept most the day but he felt far too aware of his surroundings to do so. He tried reading, but every little noise made him jump. It made him feel smaller... being in the house during the day—despite the fact no daylight penetrated into the house—was a little scary. Just the knowledge that it was day outside, that people were going about their business in Hogsmeade...

He got up, going over to the front door. Maybe someone's out there now, he thought with a shiver. James and Sirius had sorta described the area. There was a hill, and a fence. Someone could be at that fence right now staring at the house. He backed away from the door, rubbing his arms, uncomfortable. He paced around for a while then got out cleaning supplies to try and get rid of some of the blood. Except kneeling on the floor hurt his leg too much so he quickly gave up on that idea, opting to try and read again until he snapped the book shut, put everything away, ate another sandwich, then went to bed once more, hoping that he'd soon feel more comfortable.

/\/\/\/\/\

He woke up to a very faint thudding sound. What in Merlin's name!?

Another thud.

He scrambled out of bed, breathing heavily, absolutely beyond terrified. Something was going on. Something had... knocked against the side of the house? He tiptoed downstairs, nearly falling as the thudding happened again. It was coming from the living room, against one of the windows. Remus went over, legs trembling. Thud. He jerked back, nearly vomiting as he realized it was the sound of someone trying to get in, trying to knock through the slats. Not that they could get through. Could they? He could hear muffled voices, but the intense spells on the house was making it hard for even his hearing to penetrate the walls. At least on its own...

Remus hurried to the kitchen to grab a glass then went back out, pressing it against the wall to try to hear what was on the other side. Voices. He still couldn't make them out too well and had to strain to listen, then nearly dropped the glass when he realized it was the Marauders. At least Sirius, talking about trying to break in—or so he got from the garbled words he managed to hear.

No. He backed away from the wall. No, no, no, no. They had snuck into Hogsmeade and were trying to break in.

Remus fell to his butt, trying not to cry out. They were only a few feet away, just on the other side of the wall! He felt like he might vomit. Another thud. He crawled over, ignoring the pain flaring up in his legs, feeling some of the wounds breaking again, then sat next to the wall. James was talking now. At least he was feeling well enough to go sneaking off. Then Sirius said something, sounding right on the other side, as if he were up against the wall. Something about getting in.

Remus got up, panicking. They couldn't get in, right? No. No way could some twelve year olds could do that! Still...

He looked down at the glass in his hand then without even thinking threw it at the wall. The glass shattered, and he heard a frightened yelp that was probably Peter. Then silence. He ran over, pressing his ear. He thought he heard something about ghosts, then it went quiet and remained quiet. He listened in for a good long while then figured they had left.

Remus hurried to the bathroom to relieve himself, as his bladder had nearly emptied itself during that! Then he returned to the living room to clean up the shards of glass with very shaky hands, noticing a new bloodstain on the floor and on his sweatpants where the wound on his calf had reopened. He couldn't tell anyone because he didn't want to get them in trouble but... what if they tried again? Why were they even there?

James wanted to come during a full moon, what if they return tonight? Then an even worse thought, What if they were outside last night? He dumped the glass in the trash, hoping the wolf wouldn't claw into it. Probably would.

Then he sat on the couch, too shaken up to do much besides freak out until sleep overcame him once more.