The full moon arrived with a fervor, and Remus felt awful.

Remus' mother came home on Thursday evening and spent the entirety of Friday on the couch with Remus, who didn't even manage two sips of tea. His lips were chapped beyond repair, his skin seemed to be on fire, and his limbs were trembling with the weight of the moon. It hurt to do anything, even lie down.

Even so, he desperately wanted to write back and forth with his friends in the notebook, because they never failed at cheering him up. Remus' mother, however, had banned all notebook-related activities (which Remus understood, seeing as he could hardly keep his eyes open).

She wasn't in great shape, either. She stared out the window, stroking Remus' hair absentmindedly, tears leaking down her cheeks every so often. Remus' father read on the armchair—he had taken a couple of days off from work, and he'd hardly budged from the chair since early morning. The three of them sat in absolute silence for most of the day, which gave Remus a lot of time to do his two favorite things: sleep and feel sorry for himself.

Their day was interrupted by an owl, which came right around noon. "It's James again!" Remus exclaimed, ignoring his scratchy voice.

"The owl?" said his mother.

"Yes, the owl. It's James, Sirius' owl."

James landed on the arm of the couch. He was carrying a small parcel, which Remus opened eagerly. "Is it more blank parchment?" asked Remus' father, sighing.

"No, it's... the mirror," said Remus in awe, looking at the flat piece of glass on his lap and stuffing a pillow over it in case his friends decided to show up. He didn't need them to see him like this—not without at least making himself presentable first. "Mum, it's the mirror. I told you about the mirror—this is the one that James and Sirius used last summer to talk to each other." He looked up at her, begging with his eyes as best he could. "Please, please, please may I get the notebook and ask them about it? I only just woke up. Everything should be fine. Writing is a nice and quiet activity; it's not as if I want to..." Remus trailed off. He'd almost said 'go down the hill and visit the town', and a statement like that wasn't likely to get him what he wanted. "It's quiet," he repeated.

She sighed. "Very well. But only twenty minutes, you hear? Dad and I are..."

"Worried, I know," said Remus. He picked up the notebook and flipped to the latest page—it seemed that his friends had been trying to get ahold of him for quite a while.

Sheep: What's the mirror for?
Red: Talking. Duh.
Nimbus: Everyone's gonna be at my house over the summer, so I might as well let you borrow the mirror.
Goldfish: Well, everyone but me, but I'll be fine.
Nimbus: Come on, Sheep! Pick up the mirror and say hello! We're eating lunch outside, so no one's around to see us.
Sheep: Maybe not right now. I'm not well at the moment.
Red: Which is exactly why we want to talk to you, obviously.
Nimbus: Come onnnn.

Remus looked at his mum. "They want to talk," he said. "On the mirror, I mean."

She sighed yet again and got up, making her way toward the kitchen. "I figured as much. If it's all right with you, then it's all right with me. I suppose your friends will be beneficial... as long as you take a nap right after."

"Thanks, Mum," rasped Remus, and he didn't waste any time in writing his friends back.

Sheep: Okay, sure... if you don't mind the fact that I'm still in my pajamas, haven't combed my hair, and look less alive than a thousand-year-old zombie.
Red: So like Nimbus all the time:
Nimbus: Oi! That's fine, mate. We're waiting.

After smoothing down his hair anxiously, Remus picked up the mirror, making sure to aim it towards his face and not the rumpled blankets around his torso. James, Sirius, and Peter were peering into the mirror excitedly. "Remus!" shouted James. "Wow. You really do look awful."

"Gee, thanks."

"Anytime."

"Can you be a bit quieter?" asked Remus, whose ears were sensitive at the moment. "Seriously. You don't have to shout. You might be outside, but I'm not, and there are no volume controls on this thing."

James lowered his voice with a massive eyeroll. "Fine, fine. You baby. Anyway. We just wanted to make sure that you were still alive, you know? You sounded fine over the notebook, but... well, we couldn't really tell, and..."

"I'm fine, James!"

"Good. We worry about you, mate. You look terrible."

"You can stop saying that now. I really am fine. So... what's been happening?"

"We lost a hundred points for Gryffindor."

"What?!" Remus would have dropped the mirror if he hadn't been too shocked to move. "How did you... what? Did... I mean..."

Sirius tapped on the glass and sighed. "You broke him, James."

"I'm not... a hundred points? How do you even do that?!"

"Hey, don't yell at us. You lost thirty that one time you snuck out to the Forbidden Forest, remember?"

"Shhh!" said Remus desperately. "My parents are here..."

"What?" said Remus' mother. "You know... never mind. I don't really want to know, do I?"

"No," said Remus instantly. "Look... I broke a school rule and could have gotten myself killed, and I only lost thirty points, so how on earth did you..."

"Killed?" echoed Remus' mother, even more horrified.

"Mum! It doesn't matter. How did you lose a hundred points?"

"Well," said Peter, "it all started on a pleasant evening in the Slytherin common room."

"Let me tell it, Peter," said James. "It all started on a pleasant evening in the Slytherin common room."

"How did you...?"

"Shh, Remus, just listen. So we were in the Slytherin common room, when all of a sudden..."

"But why were you in the...?"

"Long story. It involves cake, Pensley, and a flock of house-elfs. Anyway, we were the Slytherin common room, casually spying on the students, when we overheard something about the Quidditch team. Apparently they'd gotten a whole fleet of new brooms."

Remus sighed. "Oh, no. Don't tell me you stole them."

"What do you take us for?" said James.

"We're not completely barbaric," said Sirius.

"Of course we stole them," said Peter.

Remus groaned.

"And then," said James, "we handed them out to all the Gryffindor first-years and gave them a nice little flying tour of Hogsmeade."

"You... you stole... and then... first-years... Hogsmeade...? James—"

"Yep, he's broken," confirmed Sirius sadly.

"This is the third time you've put first-years in danger by giving them broomsticks!"

"What?" said Sirius. "Really?"

"Yes! When you coaxed them into flying to Hogwarts on brooms instead of taking the train... when you made them fly around the school in bird costumes on Halloween... it's the third time you've given first-years broomsticks and endangered the school!"

"Not true," said James. "The first and second times we did it, they had their own broomsticks. Completely different."

"But... that was it? McGonagall didn't kick you off the team?"

"Minerva would die if she had to kick me off the team," said James proudly. "No, it was only the points. And also two detentions a day until the end of the year, since one stupid firstie fell off his broom and broke his arm... oh, and because half of the brooms were destroyed upon arriving back to Hogwarts."

"I... you... this is a joke, right?"

"Not a joke at all!"

"I'm going to go into shock, I think. If everything that's already happened didn't do it, then this definitely will..."

"Remus!" said Remus' mum, shocked.

"Ah... er, sorry, Mum. Too soon."

Suddenly, there was a knock at the door. "Did you hear that?" Remus asked his father.

He grinned. "I may not have your senses, Remus, but I'm not deaf. Who is it?"

"Madam Pomfrey. But she wasn't supposed to come till tomorrow, right?"

Two seconds later, both Remus' mother and father were at the door. Remus could hear his mother and Madam Pomfrey chattering excitedly. "Dumbledore wanted her to come and check on me just this once," he said to his friends. "I should probably go."

"Ooh, so there's no matron at Hogwarts right now?" asked James, glee spreading across his face. "Now's the perfect time to hex Snivelly! Come on, lads, let's go!"

Now, the mirror seemed to be tucked into someone's pocket: Remus could only see the swishing of dark fabric. "Wait," he cried desperately, wondering if they could still hear him. "That's not very nice."

No one responded, and Remus didn't try any harder than that. After all, there was no stopping the Marauders, right?

Remus sighed and turned the mirror upside-down on the floor just as Madam Pomfrey walked into the sitting room. "Afternoon, Remus," she said, setting her bag on the floor. Remus smelled potions within in, and he could identify each one. He'd tasted them enough times to know exactly what they smelled like.

"Afternoon," he replied.

"How are you feeling?"

"Fine."

"Say that one more time and I start adding time to your September hospital stay. Truthfully, Remus: how do you feel?"

Remus shrugged. "Kind of awful, I think."

"Oh dear." Madam Pomfrey took some sort of shoe out of her bag, but Remus didn't know why. "Yes, I'm not surprised. Your mother has been writing to me continuously, and I hear things have been difficult around here lately. I'm very sorry."

"You didn't even like him," mumbled Remus.

Madam Pomfrey smiled sadly. "That doesn't mean I wanted him to die, Remus, and that certainly doesn't mean that I wanted a whole village to be targeted and destroyed by evil forces."

"Right," said Remus, watching his mother's eyes well up with tears.

"And it's not that I disliked him. It's simply that... there was something that I wanted him to tell you, and he never got around to doing it. It was selfish and hypocritical of him. But it doesn't matter anymore, and I know I'm not supposed to speak ill of the dead."

Remus flinched. "Right," he said again, "though I don't think he'd care about that."

"He probably wouldn't," agreed Madam Pomfrey. "Now, Hope: I want you and Lyall to take hold of this shoe right here..."

"Why?" asked Remus' mum.

"It's a Portkey. It'll take you to London."

"London?" asked Remus' father. "Why do we need to go to London, exactly?"

"You and your wife are going out for the night, and you'd better not be back before midnight."

Remus' mum's mouth fell open. "But... Remus...!"

"Is perfectly safe with me. You trust me, don't you?"

"The charms on the cellar..." said Remus' father.

"Give me a list and I'll perform them myself. I graduated Hogwarts, you know. I assure you that I can do some simple spells."

"But...!"

"But nothing. You've been stressed to the bone. And Hope: you are not going to spend the whole night sulking in here—and yes, I know for a fact that that's what you usually do. You sulk and write me letters. I can see your sulking through your handwriting. Now go to some restaurant with Lyall and walk around town for a bit. I'll bet you haven't been to the city in a long time. I have money if you need it."

"No... no, I... we have money." Remus' mum looked at Madam Pomfrey intensely—she was wearing an expression that Remus could not quite place. "I don't want to leave him," she said quietly. "It's the full moon. We have to be here."

"You will. Just not until midnight."

"But..."

"You haven't been there for plenty of full moons—it's not the first time. Remus has been doing just fine with only me to watch him before and afterwards. I know what I'm doing. Now grab hold of this shoe before it leaves without you."

"Remus, do you... I mean, are you okay..."

"I'll be fi—" Remus trailed off at Madam Pomfrey's look of warning. "I mean... you can go."

Remus' father, who had been writing busily, handed Madam Pomfrey a list of spells. "These are the charms that I use on the cellar before every full moon. Remus knows them, too, if you end up losing the list. Right, Remus?"

Remus nodded mutely. He'd painstakingly memorized each of them at the age of seven, just in case he found himself with someone who wasn't his father on a full moon.

"Good," said his father, patting Remus' head awkwardly. "Er... bye."

"Have fun," said Remus, knowing full well that the same wish could not be applied to himself.

After his parents had gone, Remus looked at Madam Pomfrey suspiciously. "So, what's this really about?" he said. "There's got to be another reason. That was a pretty shoddy excuse for getting them out of the house."

She laughed. "I meant it. They need to do something besides sit around, sulk, and worry."

"But there's another reason. I can see it in your eyes."

"Well, I want to talk, and I thought that it would be easier without them here." She fluffed his pillow slightly and sat on the armchair across from him. "Seriously, Remus, I'm a licensed Healer who has plenty of experience with both mental and physical illness. So tell me truthfully: how are you doing?"

Remus crinkled his nose. "I'm... confused."

"I see."

"I... I don't feel much at all. Dad said that it's all gonna come at once at some point, but I... it's not registering, you know?"

"It's too much. Indeed. Is that why you haven't been eating?"

"I have been eating, Madam Pomfrey..."

"Lupin, I've known you for two and a half years. I know what you look like when you're not eating, and I'd wager you're getting half a meal a day. I wasn't going to send both your parents away, originally—only your mother, who I assume has been on the couch with you all day and desperately needs a break. But you are looking very, very ill, and we need to talk."

"But I..."

"Tell me the truth, Remus: when was the last time you ate?"

"Ah... yesterday. I had dinner."

"Lunch?"

"No."

"Breakfast?"

"No."

"How much dinner? Did it even count as a meal?"

Remus thought about that. "Er... no. But it was only because I forgot."

"And your eating habits have been similar the whole time you've been home, yes?"

"...Yes."

Madam Pomfrey sighed. "You have wonderful parents, Remus, but they're also very sad right now. You need to take care of yourself so that they don't have to, all right? I'm not going to make you eat anything today, but tomorrow you're going to have at least six meals, yes?"

Remus rolled his eyes and smiled. "Fine, fine. Oh, and I was wondering: who's in charge of the Hospital Wing?"

"Professor Rosemarie."

Remus' mouth fell open. "You're joking! You can't put her in charge! She's nuts!"

"Remus, be nice."

"But she really is! She's awful! No one's going to heal under her care..."

"She knows enough that no one will die. Would you rather she come here and watch you while I heal the students at Hogwarts?"

Remus clamped his mouth shut.

"Yes, that's what I thought. Now close your eyes. I want you to sleep at least another hour today, all right?"

"Yes, Madam Pomfrey."

Remus obediently closed his eyes, trying his best to ignore the pains in his body that were eclipsed only by the pains in his heart.

The night was rough, and it wasn't only because Remus was irrationally worrying that Madam Pomfrey had done the spells wrong.

He woke up the next morning on the couch, which was worrisome enough. "Did I... I mean, I was... I don't remember...?" he babbled incoherently.

"You were unconscious," said Madam Pomfrey. "It's all right. Nothing's permanently damaged. You're going to have to take a lot of Skele-Gro tonight, I'm afraid, but it's nothing that you're not used to."

"But... that's it? No lasting damage?"

"Not a bit."

Remus looked at his parents, who were eating breakfast in the kitchen. "Morning," said his mother. "Would you like some porridge?"

Remus didn't really want any porridge. He didn't like porridge. But, at Madam Pomfrey's look of warning, he nodded and ate as much as was physically possible in his current state.

"I'm not going to lie to you," said Madam Pomfrey, "it's going to be a long week. But the worst is over now, and things will be a little bit easier going forward. Yes?"

"If you say so," slurred Remus, already half asleep.

Nimbus: Gryffindor won the House Cup!
Sheep: You're joking.
Nimbus: Yeah. We came in last.
Sheep: I'm almost afraid to ask, but how many points did we have?
Red: Thirty. It's a new all-time low!
Sheep: Quite impressive since we won the Quidditch Cup.
Nimbus: That's what I said!
Sheep: Sorry, did I say 'impressive'? I meant 'pitiful'.
Nimbus: You're extraordinarily pessimistic, my friend. How was the full moon?
Sheep: Not great. Madam Pomfrey says I'll be bedridden for at least another week, and that's with her assistance.
Goldfish: Must be weird having Poppy at your house.
Sheep: Yeah, a little. She's going home during the night, though, so it's not as awkward as it could be. I slept at Professor Questus' house once and THAT was awkward.
Nimbus: What? I think we need to hear this story.
Sheep: There's not much to tell. My parents were away and I heard some weird noises and slept there. Anyway. Are you on the train right now?
Goldfish: Yeah, and Sirius is trying to see how many Chocolate Frogs he can chuck out the window before anyone notices.
Red: It's so funny! Their little legs sway in the breeze and they just go WHOOSH right out the window!
Nimbus: Uh-oh, someone's noticed. Er... see you later, Remus! We're about to be chewed out for throwing nineteen Chocolate Frogs out the window of a moving train.
Sheep: NINETEEN?

Remus stared at the pages of the notebook, waiting for his friends to write something else once they were finished getting yelled at—but nothing ever came, and Remus fell asleep holding the notebook tightly to his chest.

Remus had never known that the absence of something could be so harrowing.