Author's note: tw for panic attack and I know I've said this before but I will say it again. There are things thought regarding mental health that are not good (i.e. crazy being used so much) however I feel it would be in character and correct for the time period. So just a reminder/warning for that.

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On Tuesday afternoon Professor Prewett officially announced he'd be leaving at the end of the year. Remus realized that this meant only three more classes with him, and he was a little torn. He knew he'd really miss Professor Prewett, he was an amazing teacher and probably Remus's second favorite Professor at the school. However, that would also mean no more panicky feelings in class. Not that he'd keep having the panicky feelings, soon things would be better when he started liking girls, but…

I'm never going to see him again, Remus thought as Professor Prewett paced back and forth, his hands waving in the air as he gave his lecture. A thought slid into the back of his head and he sat back, chewing at his quill. I'm never going to see him again, he thought again.

What if…

What if he talked to Prewett on the last day? Or quickly on Saturday morning before he had to go to the train? Not about—not about the wrong feelings he got from Prewett but… I could ask him… what to do if I like someone I don't want to like.

Remus thought about this, barely taking any notes as he was very distracted. He was also a little dizzy. What if he did? What if he asked Professor Prewett that? Would it be wrong to ask for life advice from a teacher the morning everyone was leaving or…? He wouldn't want to bother Professor Prewett.

Then Remus grew extremely anxious as he realized what he had been thinking. What to do if I like someone I don't want to like? NO! I DON'T LIKE HIM LIKE THAT! I DON'T LIKE ANYONE LIKE THAT! What had he even been thinking?! That was absolutely the wrong way to say it! He didn't like any boy. At all. At All.

Disgusting. Don't, don't. It's wrong, it's wrong, and you're not like that. You can't be like that. You don't like a boy, any boy, you like girls, will like girls. You're NOT like that! How long would it take repeating it in his head until his body started agreeing with him? He'd do it as long as needed. Because I am NOT like that!

A note landed on his desk. u ok? - SB

That only caused Remus to feel sick. How did Sirius know something was going on?! After much thought he carefully sent back, Yes, why wouldn't I be?

you started breathing really fast and turned a funny grey color – SB

He glanced over at Sirius who was watching him. Remus shook his head and wrote back that he was fine. Sirius sent him back a drawing of Spinnet with crossed eyes and scratching his butt. Remus giggled, feeling a little better. He tucked the picture away to keep.

After Prewett dismissed everyone and they headed out into the hallway, Colgate made an announcement before everyone could scatter. "I think we should make him a goodbye card."

McNab clapped her hands. "Yes, I love it!"

"Ooh, Sirius can draw it!" Inkwood exclaimed, pouncing on Sirius, wrapping her arms around one of his. "He's such a good artist!"

Sirius tossed his hair back. "Yeah, I can do that. Just tell me what to draw."

"Yeah, if you leave it up to him it'll probably be wildly inappropriate," snickered James.

Sirius cracked a grin at that. "Hey, if I did that he'd definitely always remember us!"

"Don't be disgusting," Lily complained.

"He can't help it, it's his natural state of being," James said, far too proudly. Sirius responded to this by striking a pose.

They then began discussing what sort of thing Sirius should draw, and wound up being tied on whether to draw some of the creatures they had been learning about throughout the year or Professor Prewett himself. It was a six-six tie (Remus on the side of having it be Professor Prewett), with Peter the only one unable to make a decision. He admitted both were really good ideas, and that's when Remus quietly suggested why not both? Prewett at his desk with the creatures sort of in the air around him in speech bubbles to indicate he was teaching. Everyone jumped on board and Sirius said he could do that.

After that everyone split up except for the Marauders and Lily, Colgate, and Inkwood. The plan had been to work on Operation Overgrowth, but it seemed extremely awkward to tell Colgate and Inkwood to go away. The seven of them walked back to the Gryffindor tower, talking about the card. Remus shuffled along behind everyone, hoping they wouldn't want to do a group hangout. He really wasn't in the mood for that. Or rather, he didn't think he had the energy to do that. He hadn't slept well the night before from the nightmares he had had all night, of the four of them down in the cavern again. Plus the full moon was only two nights away and he could already feel that dragging him down.

Unfortunately, it seemed like they weren't going to be able to split apart (not without being very rude to Colgate and Inkwood) so everyone else decided to do something as a group.

I can't, Remus thought. He stopped in his tracks, trying to get the nerve to speak. "Erm," he began and everyone else stopped to look at him. "I—I think I'm g-going to go to the—the library."

"For what?" Inkwood asked. "We don't really have any assignments to do, it's the final days of school."

"I st-still have things I n—I need to do," he mumbled. "I'll c-catch up with you guys later." He turned and fled from them, feeling rather cowardly. It was just too much right now to have to act like a normal person in front of Colgate and Inkwood.

When he went into the library, he chose a few books and then disappeared under a table; one with a tablecloth for privacy. He didn't really read though; instead he thought a lot about things. Prewett, the cavern and passages, his upcoming third year, Sirius, Vinctums, his nightmares, Operation Overgrowth, what might have been behind the stone door… him almost killing his friends… everything swirled around his head and soon he set his book down, putting his head in his hands. It didn't take long before he felt overwhelmed and panicky. It grew a little difficult for him to breathe and his heart was pounding hard in his chest. He bent forward, hugging himself tightly as the panic intensified.

Calm down, calm down, calm down! he ordered, but his body wouldn't obey and before long it became a little too difficult for him to even think. He fell over on his side, curling into a ball as his body trembled. Part of him had enough sense to clench his teeth, to stop himself from crying out, until even that became too hard to focus on. He was afraid someone would hear him—would find him like this. Would see him like this.

No, no, no, whispered a distant voice in the back of his head that probably belonged to him.

His hands unlatched from where they had been clutching at his sides, since he wasn't sure he even had hands anymore. They felt numb. Or like they didn't belong to him. They were things on the ends of his arms he couldn't control.

Quiet, quiet, stay quiet, someone will see you, someone will see you!

The panic and fear expanded, consuming him wholly for what felt like an eternity. Everything around him was blurry and tipsy whenever he opened his eyes, so he kept his eyes shut though that didn't make the tipsy feeling go away. Actually, it made it worse. He felt like everything was spinning around him and he might go flying off into space.

I want the Marauders, he managed to think, curling up even more. Except no, he didn't, he definitely didn't want them to see this either. But Merlin, he wanted them, any of them, to sit with him and tell him it would be okay because it definitely didn't feel like it would be okay. It felt like this would never end.

Then slowly it began to subside. As he started coming back to reality (or something like reality) he realized his chest and jaw hurt. His jaw hurt from clenching his teeth, but he wasn't sure why his chest was aching. Feeling slowly came back into his fingers and the pain in his chest faded. All that was left were some gentle waves of panic lapping at his soul, a bit of lightheadedness, and utter exhaustion.

He lay limp on the floor, staring up at the bottom of the table for a long time, too worn out to move. There were some bits of gum stuck to various spots and someone had carved some words into a section. Belinda Flockton Smells Like Gnome Shit. He wondered what Belinda Flockton had done to deserve such a thing. Without even thinking he reached into his satchel, digging around until he remembered it was Tuesday and he hadn't had Potions. He didn't have his potions stuff with him. No potions knife. Frowning, he curled his fingers around a quill and then sat up. He had to get rid of this. Nobody deserved this.

Unless it was someone like Spinnet.

Remus began scratching it out, being careful so nobody could see the letters. Slowly Belinda Flockton disappeared and then he hesitated. Half of him wanted to just write in Morrander Spinnet. Or Severus Snape.

That was so mean.

They're both so mean.

Underneath the marked out Belinda Flockton Remus carefully scratched in Severus Snape. At least it didn't look like his own handwriting. This actually looked somewhat legible.

Also his quill was ruined, but it was a very old quill and wouldn't have lasted much longer anyway.

Why did I do that? he wondered, staring up at the words. What just happened?! He had completely… freaked out and then did this?! Is there something wrong with me? He looked down at his hands, carefully flexing his fingers. I am crazy.

Disgusted with himself, he scooted out from under the table, taking his stack of books to the front desk to check them out. He hoped nobody saw him leave from the table, hoped no one would see what was written and somehow know it was him. Especially since he wasn't even really sure why he did it, only that he had.

When he met up with his friends, Remus was feeling worse than he was after Defense. Discomfort rippled across his skin from hearing their voices, and touch was, somehow, even worse. They needed to work on Operation Overgrowth but he knew he couldn't, not right now. Except he couldn't tell them no. He hated telling them no. They did so much for him, gave up so much, and he had almost killed them. It didn't matter how absolutely hellish he felt, he had to help.

Not… that he was able to help much. The meeting didn't go so well. He mostly sat there staring hazily at his paper, barely hearing the words they said, unable to add much input. After ten minutes James and Lily wound up in a loud argument and were too angry to continue to work together, thankfully breaking the meeting up.

Remus fled to his bed where he curled up with a cold, damp cloth over his eyes. He planned on staying in bed for the rest of Tuesday until he remembered he had Occlumency. Don't want to go, he thought, digging his fingers into the sheets. The thought of her touching him was the worst part of it. He considered sending a message to Dumbledore, asking him to contact Fawley, but reluctantly got out of bed about fifteen minutes before six to head to his lesson.

He remained exhausted until he got to the door which was when he realized that she needed to be informed of everything that happened on Saturday. That woke him up and excited him a little, as perhaps she'd know something more about Vinctums.

Plus it'd be a distraction from whatever the hell happened in the library.

"Miss Fawley!" he exclaimed as soon as he ran through the door.

"You're energetic today," she noted.

"Er." Energetic? Far from it, he felt ready to drop at any second. "Not—not um… see the—the thing is a lot has happened since we last spoke."

Fawley raised an eyebrow. "On Friday?"

That was only four days ago, he realized, feeling as though it had been so much longer. "Y-yes." He sank down into the couch. "Um. By a lot I mean… well… the thing is, you know—did you—er—"

"Goodness. What is going on?"

He took in a deep breath. "Did you read about Professor Young?"

Fawley's face fell a little. "Yes. I'll be going to her memorial this weekend."

"You will?"

"Yes, we knew one another. We met through friends and while we weren't close, we had some mutual interests which kept us in contact up until her disappearance."

Remus's throat closed up as he realized how awful it was going to be for her to see Professor Young's ghost. "Oh."

"Why?"

"Um." Bloody hell. He looked down at his lap, twisting the hem of his shirt around his finger. "I'm not… we're not supposed to tell anyone however since you are my occlumency teacher it—I—I mean there isn't much I can do from stopping you finding out."

"Finding out what?" she asked.

He couldn't answer. All he could think about was what if he was teaching someone twenty years down the road and they said they found, say, Colgate's missing body? He wasn't extremely close with Colgate but he knew it would still be painful. And awkward.

"Remus?" she asked softly, resting her hand on his arm. It felt like spikes going through his flesh, and it took a lot of effort not to pull away. "What is going on?"

Remus swallowed, unable to look at her even though she couldn't see his face. "We found her," he admitted in a tight whisper. "James, Sirius, Peter, and I. We—we're the ones who found her."

Fawley was absolutely silent for several long seconds, then, "What?!"

Miserably, he told her the story. About the whispering, the tunnels, and then finding her spirit and her skeleton. Fawley listened in silence, though she did pull her hand away from his so she could twist her skirt around in her hands. Her knuckles went white when he got to the part about the spirit and skeleton.

And I had been excited to find out if she knew anything about it, he thought after finishing that part up. He didn't continue with the cavern. Not yet.

Fawley let go of her skirt, one hand going to her cheek. "Oh, Remus," she breathed out. "I am so sorry you went through that." Then her arms were around him in an agonizing hug. "None of you should have experienced that." Despite the hug hurting his skin, he clung back, pressing his face into her shoulder. It was what he was supposed to do. Normal people accepted physical comfort for things like this. He needed to try to be more normal, so he forced himself to endure the hug, hoping she didn't realize how panicked and distressed he was getting. As long as he didn't go completely crazy like he did in the library it should be all right. "Are you doing all right?" she asked once she pulled back, stroking his hair gently. "How are the others? Are they all right?"

"Um, we—I don't know. I… guess we're… doing as good as we can be. We're… shaken up in our own ways. I think Peter's worst off though that's probably also from—" He stopped quickly, biting his tongue.

"From what?"

He let out a sigh. "There's—there's more."

"More?"

Slowly, he told her about Peter running off and falling into the pipe, and they all fell too. He told her about nearly drowning, James saving him, then them being lost in the passages for hours. He told her about the stone door and the bad feeling he got. Then he told her about their escape, and the tunnel collapsing down just as they got James out.

Fawley hugged him again, practically crushing him against her chest. "Remus. Oh, my dear, oh Remus, oh." It was all she seemed to be able to say. Then she was cupping his face in her hands, resting her forehead against the top of his head. He clenched his teeth, trying to keep his breathing under control. Hopefully if she noticed how freaked out he was getting she'd assume it was because of their discussion and not the physical contact. "I'm so sorry. I am so, so sorry. I don't—I can't even imagine how—"

Then with a shock he realized there were tears dripping on his head. "Miss Fawley?"

She was crying, and once more put her arms around him. "I'm so glad you're safe, you're all safe. Merlin, I wish they were here so I could hug them too."

"I d-didn't mean to make you cry!"

She didn't answer, she simply held him. And despite it hurting so bad, it also felt so good. Like curling up in bed with the Marauders. He felt warm, safe, protected, and good. He tucked his head down into her neck, leaning into her embrace, forcing himself to focus only on the safe, protected feelings and not the pain pulsating through his entire body. Except the bad feelings vibrated more and more, making it harder to feel safe, until it took everything inside of him not to scream. It felt more like he was forcing himself to endure someone raking sharp nails across his entire body, not someone comforting him! It ballooned in his chest and throat, pushing, shoving, hurting. All his muscles were clenched and the wolf inside him was reacting, getting worked up over him being so worked up.

Thank Merlin when she released him again, pulling a handkerchief out of her pocket to wipe her face off.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have started crying…"

"I cried a lot too," he said, sliding away from her, feeling immense relief at not being touched anymore. As well as immense disgust with himself for feeling so relieved he wasn't being touched anymore. Immense hate at himself for being so bloody abnormal and wrong and freakish.

Fawley gave a slight smile. "You went up the pipe?"

"You can… see if you like…"

"Oh."

"I mean, if you don't that is fine. Though I suspect it will be prevalent in my memories tonight," he said. "I… also wanted to talk about something else but as it involves Professor Young, I don't know how you feel about it."

Fawley tucked her damp handkerchief back in her pocket. "What is it?"

He chewed at his bottom lip, trying to figure out the best way to explain. "Her… spirit. It didn't look like a normal ghost. I—I think she was a Vinctum Spiritus." He waited, studying her face. Her forehead wrinkled a little as she frowned. "Professor Dumbledore says they're myths and—and I know they… are. Or were. Or, or, I—well, whatever they are, I think she was one. She said something about her… death being used. And she said—she said she was free now that she was found. That—that's when she disappeared." Fawley was silent even after he finished speaking and he worried he had upset her. "Um. I—I could be wrong—"

"Perhaps you should show me."

"P-Professor Young?"

"Yes," she said hesitantly then placed her hand on his cheek.

They were back in the tunnel, going around the U-shaped bend and coming across the whispering spirit. Her voice was even eerier hearing it in his own memory. Then she raised her arms and disappeared. Fawley and Remus exited the memory just as Peter took off running. Fawley let out a long breath as she pulled a slightly shaky hand from his face.

"Are you okay, Miss Fawley?"

"I'll be okay," she said. "That was Mildritha. I am not sure what to say." She adjusted her position, sitting a little more upright. "That was not… a ghost. Whatever it was."

Whatever it was, he echoed in his head. "W—do—do you think it could have been a Vinctum?"

"It can't be. Vinctums are…" She trailed off. "They're myths."

His eyes widened a little. "She—that—that was not a normal ghost."

"No," she agreed, tugging at part of her skirt. "I have no idea what that meant."

Why do adults refuse what is so obvious!? he thought, trying not to groan. "Everything about it goes with what we know of Vinctums, myth or not," he said, probably a little too bitterly.

Fawley reached out to hold his hands and without thinking he moved back, away from her; her hands fell into her lap, and he hated himself even more. "Remus…" Whatever she was going to say, he could tell he wasn't going to like it. "My dear. It had to have been an illusion."

He stared blankly up at her. "An… illusion."

"Perhaps whoever killed her set it up, an illusion to be triggered when someone found her body. To make it seem… worse than it was. That is very doable."

Remus scowled. "When someone found her body down in a tunnel nobody knew about?"

"If whoever killed her found the tunnels, it stands to reason someone else would," she said gently, almost patronizingly. "And they did, less than a decade later. Perhaps whoever it was wanted people to think it was a Vinctum Spiritus. To make themselves seem even more powerful."

His mouth opened and closed, then his face turned bright red at that logic. It… it made sense. A lot of sense. Was that what Dumbledore thought? "That… is… very… logical…" he reluctantly admitted, rubbing the back of his neck. It was. It really was. Of course. It was an easy spell to do too, it's something Remus thought he could manage himself in a few years.

Dumbledore probably did look into my memory, saw the… the 'spirit' and came to the same conclusion, he thought miserably, and didn't want to argue with me about it.

"Do you want to show me the stone door?" she asked, not pressing the issue of her reasoning. She knew she had won.

It was hellish to go back into the passages. To that stone door. It was so bizarre to watch himself panic, but it was harder to see how awful they all looked. James and Peter had bruises and grime on them, Sirius covered in blood, Remus obviously having gone through the wringer plus his missing shoe made him look more pathetic. All four looked beyond exhausted. No wonder his friends had gotten so mad at Remus refusing to go through what seemed to be the only escape.

"I've never heard of a maze like that," Fawley said once they were back on the couch. "It is under the school? How odd. May I see the cavern? I don't think I want to see you… almost drowning… but show me the cavern?"

But the cavern mystified her too. She had zero knowledge about any of it, though she pointed out she wasn't exactly an expert on the school. Remus told her about offering to let Dumbledore in his memories, and Dumbledore possibly ignoring him, as well as seemingly not believing the boys about the cavern and passages.

"If it is an unsafe location in the school, perhaps Albus thought it best to not talk about it with you," she said, though she didn't sound too sure about that. "I could talk to him about this. Tell him I saw the cave and the passages in your memory."

"A—all right…"

Fawley rummaged around in her handbag and produced a bar of chocolate. "Would you like this? It probably was a bit of a shock to your system to go through that again."

Remus took it and broke it, offering her half which she accepted. As they ate she asked if he wanted to continue with his lesson. He let the chocolate melt on his tongue as he thought about this. Yes. No. Maybe. Finally, after he finished his half of the bar, he told her that yes, at least start it. If it got too difficult for him then he'd be okay if they ended the lesson early.

Which they had to. After ten minutes of reliving himself almost drowning (which was very strange to watch from the water, swimming without getting wet), of them being lost, of his ascending the pipe, and of James almost being buried under rubble (and Sirius, really)… he could not take it another second longer.

Fawley held him as he cried again, promising him it wasn't his fault since that's what he started blubbering out. She told him essentially what the others had said: accidents happen. The only person to blame was whoever exposed the pipe and didn't cover it up or put something around it to prevent someone from falling in.

It didn't take long before the combination of crying and being touched was too much and he wriggled away, whimpering about being too hot as an excuse. Unfortunately she put her hand on his back then frowned when he jerked away, unable to take another second of contact.

"It's okay to accept comfort," she said hesitantly, suspecting that was what was wrong. "It isn't your fault."

He simply curled up, pressing his face in the arm of the sofa, wishing to Merlin he wasn't so damned broken, that he could accept someone's hand on his back. Finally he sat up, trying to wipe his face off again. Miss Fawley used a spell to make her sleeve damp and wiped his face off for him, ignoring his protests about snot. He felt like a little kid but not in the same way that his parents made him feel; this felt more comforting. Safe. The touch wasn't even that horrible since it felt so… quick and needed.

"If you need anything," she whispered in his ear as they hugged again, "do not hesitate to contact me. Don't be ashamed to ask James to borrow Godric, he's faster than Cocoa."

Fili was the fastest owl out of all of them, but no way would he ever use Fili and they both knew it.

"Okay," he sniffled. "Um."

She reached out as if to stroke his hair and he ducked away, making a noisy act of drying his face off on his own sleeves to avoid the contact. "I hope your moon goes well. I'll see you in a week, unless you need me before that."

"Thank you, Miss Fawley."

He left the room but didn't get too far until he went into a back stairwell where he collapsed down, exhausted from such a long, strange day.