The red-haired boy who'd welcomed Remus to Gryffindor House surveyed the first-years lingering behind as the rest of the students left after the feast. Remus didn't know when he'd felt so full or so happy. He was sure he had the most ridiculous grin on his face -- his new housemates, especially Sirius, were highly entertaining companions.

"Only four Gryffindor boys this year, is it?" he said. "Ah well, suppose you'll be up to snuff! I'm Arthur Weasley. I'm a seventh-year prefect. Anytime you need advice, you get lost, you forget the password to the common room, or you need help with Muggle Studies, I'm your man." A sudden look of interest came over his face. "None of you are perchance Muggle-born, are you?" he asked keenly.

Peter burped, and Sirius began to snigger. The girls tittered. Remus, feeling foolish, raised his hand and said, "My mum's a Muggle." Three of the five Gryffindor girls, including Lily, raised their hands too.

Arthur looked over them. "Any of the rest of you? No?" He looked disappointed. "Oh well. Right then, follow me." He lead them out the Great Hall, up a huge marble staircase, and down a confusing set of hallways. Remus had no idea how any of them were supposed to find their way around come tomorrow morning. His head was fairly spinning before Arthur stopped in front of a very silly-looking portrait of a rotund woman in a pink dress.

Remus was sure few things could astonish him, after today -- but he actually fell over when the painting squinted at Arthur and demanded, "Password?"

Arthur turned to the first years and advised, "Remember this one, guys. It won't change until Christmas holidays, but it's pretty essential." He turned back to the portrait and answered, "Fata Morgana."

"Welcome back, Arthur," she said in a fruity voice as the portrait swung forward.

The new students gazed around at the room they found on the other side of the wall, but Arthur hurried them forward. "You need to get to bed, now!" he tutted. "You've got a big day ahead of you, and you've have a big one behind you as well. Dormitories are in the towers on either side of the common room." He pointed to two staircases at opposite ends of the room. "Boys on the left, girls on the right." He craned his neck. "Molly!" he called, and another redhead, a short, pleasantly round girl walked over. "Molly, d'you mind taking the girls up to their dorm?"

"Not at all," she said, and as she smiled her eyes shone kindly. "Follow me, then." The five girls parted company with the boys, and Arthur lead them up the left staircase.

After passing two levels (labeled 'Sixth years' and 'Seventh years'), they reached a landing whose door had a sign reading 'First years' on it. "There you are!" said Arthur cheerfully. "Your home away from home. Breakfast goes from dawn to 8:15, and your first class is 8:30. You'll be getting your schedules tomorrow morning. Sleep tight, then!" Arthur then shut the door, leaving the four boys to survey their room with wonder.

Four four-poster beds draped with deep red, velvet curtains were spaced evenly around the circular room. Their trunks lay beside each one. Remus noted that his was next to the large bay window opposite the door. Tired as he was, part of him was resentful and part grateful. This way he'd be able to keep a check on the moon without being too obvious. But he'd never escape it, either. He shook his head. You've got twenty-four days. Worry about it later. He smiled. He'd never been able to say that before.

Wearily, he opened his trunk and pulled out a pair of pajamas. His eyes watered a little when he saw that his mother had slipped in some flowers. He could feel the potion his father had given him wearing off quite suddenly -- all the pain and exhaustion from the previous full moon hit him again. He collapsed onto his bed. The last thing he heard was Sirius, whispering aloud to James.

"You know what this means, don't you?"

Yawn. "Wha wha means?"

"That portrait. The password. There must be loads of other secret passages around this school..."

If James replied, Remus didn't hear it.

* * *

Someone was shaking him awake and saying his name urgently. Remus moaned and rolled over.

"Remus! It's 8 o'clock! Our first lesson starts in half an hour!"

Remus shot up in the bed. He looked to see who had woken up him. It was Peter. "Why didn't you wake me earlier?" he snapped angrily.

Peter shrank a bit. "You looked kind of sick. I thought you needed it."

Alright, so he thought he was doing it for the best. Don't blame him, it's not his fault. "Well, thanks for waking me all the same then," he said, and hurried over to his trunk to pull out some clothes. Peter left, saying "Don't forget your robes. And you'd better bring your bag and your cauldron, our first lesson is Potions. We've got it with the Ravenclaws. Will you sit with me, Remus?"

"Of course I will," he muttered grumpily. "You go on ahead, I'll find you."

With that, he found himself alone in the room. His head pounding and his limbs weak and aching, he slid out of his pajamas. He paused, momentarily aware of how alone he was. And he was thankful. Before pulling on his tattered jeans, he bent over and examined the largest and oldest scar on his body: a puckered region on his right leg where the flesh had been torn and savaged when he was five years old. They cannot see this, he resolved, and pulled his pant leg on.

* * *

He hurried down to the Great Hall, getting there by following an equally late pair of fourth years. I wish I had a watch, he thought bitterly, or that there was a clock somewhere. The Gryffindor table was mostly empty, save for some straggling third year girls, and Arthur Weasley. And --

"Remus! There you are!"

James and Sirius waved him over. They were sitting close to the staff table. As Remus approached, he noticed Dumbledore shoot a meaningful glance at a sickly-looking man at the other end of the staff table. The man glanced at Remus, and then rose, and swept away. Remus was puzzled, but decided to say nothing. Instead, he asked where Peter was.

Sirius made a face. "Didn't want to be late. Somebody told him Professor Miasma is harsh on late students, so he didn't want to wait."

James pushed a plate of toast toward Remus. "It's pretty picked over, but lunch should be okay if we get there early enough."

"It's okay. Really," he protested. It's okay, I've been hungry before. But he didn't say it. "Thanks." He glanced around. "Look, I can eat this on the way. Why don't we go find Potions?"

"Okay."

They asked Arthur Weasley, and he pointed them toward an unpleasant passageway leading down to the dungeons. "I'd best hurry, though," he warned. "Miasma's not one for going lightly on late Gryffindors."

"Why--" But Remus felt Sirius jerk his arm and insist on leaving. They jogged through the corridors, and had to ask some older students directions several times, especially after a straight-faced Ravenclaw girl gave them misleading information, and they burst into a broom closet, apologizing. By now they were running full speed. Remus wasn't sure how long he would hold up: the pounding in his chest was now nearly as strong as that against his temples.

"It--should--be--huh--right up there!" Sirius gasped as they turned a corner. Somewhere, a bell tolled.

"Blood! That probably means we're late!" huffed James with an air of disappointment.

Remus stumbled, and had to ricochet off the stone walls to keep his balance. "Sorry -- was -- my fault --"

Sirius snorted, and managed to throw on a cavalier attitude as they hurtled toward the end of the hall. "Pish tosh, my boy!"

"Aahh!!" Remus tripped on his leaden feet, and found himself sprawled in front of an open door. James and Sirius didn't stop quickly enough, and the three boys were quickly tangled in each others' legs. A tall, hunched form suddenly filled the doorway.

"Well..." a sibilant male voice hissed. "Might these be my three miscreant first years?"

Remus scrambled futilely to pull himself up. James and Sirius were staring upward, expressions of horror on their faces. To everyone's surprise, the man towering above them lowered a hand and offered it to Remus. His face burning and his whole body aching worse than ever, he accepted the hand and shakily pulled himself to his feet. He looked up to see who had helped him, and recognized the man Dumbledore had whispered to at breakfast. With a glare, he swept into his room, leaving the three boys to follow. They sheepishly took seats at the back of the classroom -- well, Remus did, anyway. James had a nervous grin on his face, and Sirius looked positively delighted that he had made such a grand entrance. Peter kept trying to catch their eye, but Remus was too tired to do much more than listen to the teacher's voice.

"I believe strongly in first impressions," he was saying, "but I pray you'll not judge me by my taking ten points from Gryffindor for your spectacular arrival." Remus sighed. Not even a day here and I'm already disgracing myself. At this rate...

The teacher surveyed the twenty or so students watching him more or less attentively. "I am Professor Miasma, and I shall be instructing you in the subtle and precise art of potion making..."

Remus found his ears to be uncooperative again. This was all so new, trying to force himself to be alert and attentive after a full moon. Usually, he slept for most of three or four days after it. The room was blurring around the edges. He fought to keep himself focused. His reflexes were several beats behind everyone else's -- for instance, he only began to remove his quill and parchment when the rest of the class were already scratching away with their first notes.

After the notes differentiating among the three simplest types of potions (mixtures, concoctions, and solutions), they were paired and Professor Miasma instructed them to blend a Colorfast Concoction. "Be careful with the finished product, as it will stain your clothes by preventing fading," he warned. Remus found Peter catching his eye meaningfully, and so slid a little closer so they could share a cauldron. "Right. The first ingredient is the moth feelers, as you should recall. It is important to blend all the dry elements of the Concoction first, as the liquid component is what makes it active..."

Remus put a great deal of effort into helping Peter (who had even less of an idea how to make the Concoction than he did), but he simply couldn't seem to manage it. Upon adding the mixed rosewater and bat plasma, the Concoction suddenly hissed, then dramatically congealed at the bottom of the cauldron with a moody thwunkp. Professor Miasma hurried over to examine the cause of the noise. He peered in, and announced that the two had instead created a very primitive boggart repellant.

"What's a boggart?" Remus asked thickly.

With a small sniff, the teacher answered, "I daresay you shall find out in Defense Against the Dark Arts." He then continued on to another table.

In the end, two Ravenclaw partners as well as Delia Prewitt and Stella Kale-Mickford successfully produced the Colorfast Concoction. Professor Miasma then instructed the first years to go over pages thirteen and fourteen of Elementary Potions Explained, and to pay special attention to the Scintillation Solution, which would create the illusion of tiny sparkling lights on whatever it was painted on. He looked around the room one more time and then said, "You are dismissed." Remus sighed with relief. He bent down to collect his bag, feeling an almost audible ache in his back as he did so.

He noticed Sirius, James, and Peter lingering, waiting for him. Most of the rest of the class was gone, and Professor Miasma was stirring something in a small cauldron next to his desk. Remus straightened up, still numbly stuffing things into his bag . "I won't be long, just be a second, really--"

"Mister Lupin, I want to speak with you. I will write a note for your next teacher." The four Gryffindor boys stared. Remus gulped, and answered,

"Al-alright."

Sirius's eyes darted from the back to the front of the room, then to Remus again. "We'll wait outside the door."

Professor Miasma looked up. "You will not," he said sternly. "You will continue to your next class. Charms, isn't it, for you Gryffindors? I should hurry -- it's quite far off."

The other three looked to Remus for approval. Remus frowned, and said, "Right then, you go on ahead. Don't worry about me, please."

"See you, then," Sirius said warily, and they departed. When the room was empty, Professor Miasma summoned Remus to his desk.

"Don't worry about your things, you can collect them in a minute." Remus obeyed, and silently approached the teacher's desk. He studied the potion Professor Miasma was boiling next to his desk. Something was familiar about it, something about the way it smelled...

Miasma was pulling on a pair of leather gloves. He spoke very quietly. "Professor Dumbledore has explained your situation to me, and I am glad to try and aid you." Remus couldn't help stiffening, but he forced himself to nod, and to continue to listen. Miasma lifted the cauldron by the handle, and tipped the contents into a large goblet sitting on his desk. "This is an Exhaustion Elixir. It delays the healing sleep you need to recover, gives you energy and numbs whatever pain you suffer after the full moon. It wears off at night, so your recovery can come along bit by bit during the school week. You will stop taking it on the weekend, when you are free to sleep off the effects of your transformation. You are only to take it if the moon occurs during the week, and you are to only accept it from myself." He touched the side of the goblet, and commented, "It ought to be cool enough. It is effective taken cold, but I have found that warmth intensifies the strength. Go on, drink it."

Hesitantly, Remus accepted the goblet. If Dumbledore trusts this man, he thought, then so can I. He sipped it, and instantly felt as though a wash of adrenaline had coursed through his body. He took some gulps, more confident than before. After draining the goblet, he felt as good as he did during a new moon, after a full night's sleep and a good breakfast. He smiled, and said a grateful thank you.

"Oh!" he exclaimed, realizing something. "My da gave me some of this yesterday!"

A thin smile crossed Professor Miasma's sallow face. "A wise Potions Master your father must be, then, for this not an easy brew to make." He then hunched down over his desk and dipped a new, raven feather quill into a pot of green ink. "Give this to Professor Flitwick when you arrive in his class. Dumbledore has already explained that you might be a little late."

Remus thanked Professor Miasma again, and then asked, "Sir? How... how do you reach Professor Flitwick's room?"

The professor gave him directions, and Remus finally left the dungeon. He found Sirius waiting for him at the top of the marble staircase. "Hi!" Remus said brightly.

"What happened?" Sirius inquired, concern in his voice.

"Oh, nothing. I'm fine! I've had a route explained by Professor Miasma -- we should get there in time if we hurry."

* * *

Remus discovered that with his strength and concentration with him, his classes went extremely well. He hadn't received a schedule yet, but by following his roommates, he learned the Gryffindor routine rather quickly. He sorted out the jumble of Potions, Charms, Herbology, Astronomy, Transfiguration, History of Magic, and Defense Against the Dark Arts by the end of the first week, and even learned a few handy shortcuts from Professor Miasma as he took his Exhaustion Elixir before his first class of the day.

Before his Defense Against the Dark Arts lesson on Thursday afternoon, Remus was convinced that no other classes could be more interesting than Charms and Transfiguration. Professor Flitwick had introduced them to the levitation charm Mr. Pettigrew had used on Remus's luggage. Sirius began a heated competition with Lily Evans, trying to make his feather hit the ceiling with enough force for a good loud smack. While he repeated the charm louder and more vehemently, the feather hung stubbornly above his head until it burst into purple flames. And that morning in Transfiguration, James had amazed Professor McGonagall by accidentally and quite spontaneously changing a nearby paperweight into a hummingbird. The head of Gryffindor House had been so taken aback she took away five points, and later gave him ten.

Defense Against the Dark Arts was the only class the Gryffindors had with the Slytherins, and Remus secretly dreaded spending ninety minutes in the same room as Severus Snape, who had quickly formed a small but vicious gang comprising Gregor Lestrange, Tim Islington, Paul Steward, and Ursinus Wilkes. Sheile Donnegan and Janina Woyczek were the unspoken leaders of the female counterpart: they would walk four abreast with Melinda Tanner and Hyacinth Pillager, as Hortense Bulstrode lurked behind.

He confessed his fears to the other Gryffindor boys as they waited outside the classroom. James shook his head. "Look, just don't listen to them if they're asses. Ignore them."

"What?!" Sirius squawked. "Ignore them?"

"Yes," said James reasonably. "There's nothing to be gained from fighting with them."

A glint entered Sirius's eye. "Ah, but there is everything to be gained from revenge, my dear Jamesie."

"Revenge?" Peter squeaked. Before Sirius could elaborate, however, the two Slytherin gangs arrived in the corridor. The Gryffindors and the Slytherins eyed each other, each with varying degrees of dislike upon their faces. Snape, however, made the first move as he spotted Remus.

"Why, hello, Remus Lupin from all over," he sneered softly.

He gave a stiff reply. "Good afternoon, Severus."

Snape smirked. "Had plenty of things to write home about? I suspect you would, seeing as none of your family has ever come here before."

"That's not true," Remus said quietly. "Callum Lupin graduated from Hogwarts in 1657. He was Head Boy and he later discovered the Eight Greatest Uses for the Patronus Charm."

Snape raised an eyebrow. "Are you making that up? Do you know anything about what you've just proclaimed?" Behind Snape, the other Slytherins were exchanging sniggers and incredulous mutterings.

Remus felt his face reddening. "It's true," he stated. "I found it in the library Monday night." That was a lie. James had discovered it as he'd flipped randomly through A History of Magic Wednesday evening.

The door to the classroom opened. The Gryffindor girls walked in first. Then the Slytherins pushed their way past. When Snape reached Remus, he stopped, and whispered maliciously, "I don't believe you."

Remus felt tears springing unbidden into his eyes. He watched Snape's greasy head pass into the room, and clenched his fists. Don't let him get you, a voice whispered. Don't give him that satisfaction.

I know, I know, but he's awful!

"He'll pay," another voice whispered grimly in his ear. Sirius was watching Snape darkly. "Don't you worry about that. It'll just be a matter of time... Come on, let's go in."

The DADA classroom was a sparse affair, with none of the bookshelves or cabinets the other teachers had. Apart from desks for the students and the professor, the spacious room was empty. The Slytherins seemed to have claimed the seats on the right side of the room, and they sat, looking vastly underwhelmed by their surroundings.

"I'll have none of that!" a voice said from the front of them room. A thickset, grizzled wizard with a stiff leg was shuffling toward the Slytherins, who were looking indignant and confused. "I'll have none of this self-segregation! Houses are not meant to be used as 'the other' against which you must battle. I'll be assigning you seats alphabetically, so I'll ask you not to get comfortable where you're sitting."

The man turned, and addressed the whole room. "I am Professor McKinnon. I am Head of Hufflepuff House, and a decorated veteran of the war against Grindelwald. I shall be introducing you this year to Dark creatures. Hopefully you will be able to apply what you learn to other areas of Defense Against the Dark Arts, such as curse and hex deflection, dueling, and, when are you seventh years, the breaking of spell circles."

Professor McKinnon cleared his throat, and drew a pair of slim glasses from a pocket in his robes. He picked up his class list and scanned it for a few moments. All the first years watched him apprehensively: neither of the two Houses were looking forward to mixing. Finally he began reading off names and pointing students to their chairs. Sirius was in the far left corner, and both he and Jeremy Cain sat shooting mutinous looks at the teacher. Remus found himself sitting between Gregor Lestrange and Peter. James was close to Sirius in the row behind, with Delia Prewitt and Hycainth Pillager for company. Unpleasantly, a trick of fate had Severus Snape sitting right behind Remus. He shuttered. This was not going to be a fun class.

But his opinion of the class changed very swiftly with Professor McKinnon lifted a cage from under his desk, pulled off the cover, and revealed the most violently red-orange bird Remus had ever seen. It glared around the classroom, occasionally making a low "Fwerrrp, fwerrrp" sound and then a raucous trill. It then began to sing, in a high, warbling voice that seemed to pierce Remus's very skull.

It's not such a bad sound, he thought appreciatively. How can this be a dark creature?

He then remembered that, technically, he was a dark creature, and he sobered very quickly. He looked around at the others. Gregor Lestrange was wincing, and he could hear Snape muttering "Shut the damn thing up!" On the other side of the room, Sirius was giving the bird an intense look, and James had slunk back in his chair, and was rubbing his arms furiously.

"Tradete vox!" the professor cried, and the bird instantly became mute, though it continued moving its beak and was shaking its feathers angrily. McKinnon gave them all a meaningful look. "This bird is called a Fwooper. It is native to Eastern Africa, Burkina Faso and Nigeria in particular. As you see, it is a beautiful creature, with a song that is very pleasant at first; but prolonged exposure will drive the listener mad. African wizards have always had a terrible time trying to keep Muggle pet shops from selling them."

After half an hour of dense notes about the effects of the Fwooper's voice, and the ways of staving off insanity, Professor McKinnon urged them to put their parchments away and take out their wands. They spent the remainder of the lesson taking turns silencing the bird, and they were not dismissed until everyone succeeded.

"How cool was that?" James gushed as they left the corridor and headed back to Gryffindor Tower. "I'd love to send one of those to my Aunt Berle, she's nutters already -- bet she'd love the company!"

"And how neat is McKinnon?" agreed Sirius. "I didn't think Hufflepuffs were like that. I thought they were all duffers!"

Peter flinched, but didn't say anything. Remus suddenly remembered that both his parents were Hufflepuffs. "Each House has its merits, you know," he said quietly. "There are worse things on earth than being a Hufflepuff." Yes, like being--

"Yeah, like being a Slytherin!" snorted James. "I was watching Snape -- what a twit! Did any of you notice how he spent half the lesson complaining about how useless it was?"

"How could we not hear it?" Peter agreed. He paused. "Or smell him. He needs to learn that baths do have a purpose."

Sirius chuckled. "That's something, coming from an eleven year-old!"

* * *

The winter had already passed, and Defense Against the Dark Arts was moving into more serious territory concerning dark creatures. Professor McKinnon paced the front of the classroom and examined all his students carefully.

"Werewolves," he said finally. "Werewolves. They are among the most feared and most dangerous of all the creatures we are going to study this year. They are primarily a threat because of their almost human intelligence -- for, were they not human once themselves? Werewolves are monsters in our midst, and their daily treacheries of luring us into friendships or trust are only to serve their own lust for human blood."

That's not true! Remus tried to shout. Nobody asks to be bitten! We hate it just as much as you do!

"Mr. Lupin!" Professor McKinnon's voice seemed to echo from a long way away. "Will you please come up to the front of the room?"

Remus's feet moved without his permission. Slowly he rose and walked around the desks and stopped at the front of the classroom, where everyone could see every inch of him. Professor McKinnon began circling him, pointing prodding at various places on his body. "As humans, werewolves are identifiable by several key features. First, note the characteristics of the eyes. The pupils have inordinate amounts of pigment in them, and can grow extremely large at night for good vision in the dark."

My mother always loved my eyes, he whimpered. She says they're good Welsh eyes! It's not because--

"Secondly, observe the teeth." He forced Remus's mouth open, and yanked his jaw downward. Remus yelped with pain, but no one took any notice of him. James and Sirius, he realized with a feeling of despair, were calmly taking notes and examining him the same way they had looked at the grindylow. "Note the unusual sharpness, the keen tearing canines that linger in this shape."

You're lying! he shrieked. There's nothing different about my teeth...!

"And of course," Professor McKinnon was saying, the volume of his voice escalating, "there is the incontrovertible evidence of SCARS!" Before he knew what was happening, Remus felt his pants fall to his feet, and he was left standing there in only his robes, shirt, and boxers. He began to cry. Somewhere in front of him, Severus Snape was laughing softly.

"The location of the original bite is a very useful spot to know, as with the proper spell you can force the werewolf to reveal himself." McKinnon raised his wand and circled around Remus. He addressed the class at his back. "Go to the back of the room and be ready to evacuate if I see it necessary." He pointed his wand at Remus, who began to plead with him.

No, please don't!

"Be ready, students!" McKinnon cried.

Remus screamed. No!!

"Luna dixit: venio lupus!"

And he began to change in front of the entire class.

"Remus! Remus! Wake up! Remus! What's wrong?!"

He found himself knotted in the sheets of his bed, soaked with sweat, and being shaken by two sets of hands. Sirius was staring at him with a frightened expression on his face. James was squinting, as he didn't have his glasses on. Remus looked from one face to the other, terrified and mute. Then, finally, he choked, "I -- I must have had a nightmare."

Sirius furrowed his brow with concern. "Are you alright?"

Remus disentangled himself and sat up. "Yes, yes I'm fine! Thank you." He cleared his throat, and then sat there panting for a few moments. James watched him.

"Are you sure you're okay?"

Remus smiled weakly. "I will be. Really, it's alright, I'll be fine in a few minutes. Go back to bed."

Their faces mixtures of concern and sleepiness, James and Sirius muttered good night and crawled back into their beds. Remus, however, lay wide awake, staring out the window through his curtains. Thursday night -- two days from now -- the moon would round out, and he had no idea where he was going to go.

* * *



Hi there! I've finished this chapter since ff.net has been down, so I don't know if anyone else has reviewed... so *hoping!* if anyone new has, then thankee much! Tune in next time for: The Adventures of Eluding Three Of Your New Best Friends; or, Making Up Plausible Excuses in Deference To Telling The Truth