Starcross'd: part 2 (two): HALF

By: Fala Reflects The Madness Within Tzipori

Written: Summer, 2004
Fandom: Harry Potter
Rating: PG-13
Genre: Romance, Drama, Angst, Humour
Pairing(s): Sirius/Remus, James/Lily
Warnings: slash, strife, swearing, suggestive stuff, Scottish humour, Sirius and James being egregiously heterosexual, and other such things that begin with an
Plot: The slashmobile has been revved up and you-know-who is taking a ride (And I don't mean Voldemort, nerks :P). Secrets are out. Emotions are out. Remus is out.
Spoilers: None, I do not think . . .
Dedications/Thanks: HUGE thanks to Carlea, über-talented talented writer and grammar-Nazi extraordinaire for beta-ing all ninety seven pages of this shite. Thanks so much, love. You so totally rool.
Disclaimers: The characters in this story belong to J.K. Rowling. I'll return them before their warranty's spent.
Other comments/schtuff: n/a

Mr. Lupin, would you kindly pay attention.

Remus started in his seat when Professor Twideon rapped on the front of his desk with a heavy book. In a blink of realisation, he saw that he'd finally succeeded in levitating the tea cup he'd been given, but also his entire desk beneath it.

Feeling very sheepish as the class tittered, he gave his wand a short flick downward and lowered his desk the few inches to the floor, but in doing so, completely forgot about the hovering tea cup which simply fell out of the air and shattered when it hit the floorboards.

The class erupted in snickers. Fighting the colour that was rising in his face, Remus muttered an apology to Professor Twideon who simply swept the pieces of the cup into the bin with a flick of her wand.

Mr. Lupin, I have very little tolerance for those who see fit to trot off to La La Land in my class, Professor Twideon said reprovingly. However, seeing as you are the only one who actually managed to levitate anything at all today -- she cast a stern gaze round the room and the rows of desks topped with very stationary tea cups -- I will not take any points away for breaking your cup. Now then, I want everyone to write me a short essay on the importance of wrist control in performing this and other such charms. Half a roll of parchment, on my desk tomorrow. You are dismissed.

As the students shuffled out of the classroom, James clapped Remus round the shoulders. Good one, Rem! he said jovially, slinging his satchel over his shoulder and sweeping both of them out into the hallway. Remus did not feel remotely pleased with himself although he had, indeed, been the only one able to levitate in class. His mind had been on what he'd seen in the Mirror the previous night and it was proving to be quite a prevalent and rather annoying distraction. Earlier that day, on the way to Charms, he'd actually walked right into Severus Snape and leapt back with a high-pitched yelp. It had been a rather embarrassing thing to do in a hallway full of Slytherins, let alone fellow Gryffindors.

When he and James caught up with Sirius and Peter and headed to the Great Hall for lunch, Remus was lost in thought yet again. As he walked behind Sirius -- tall, handsome and confoundedly arrogant Sirius, even -- he felt as though his feet were in shackles and his heart made of glass.

By the time they were all sat at the table with their food in front of them, Remus had withdrawn so much into his own thoughts that he barely heard the conversation that was being tossed back and forth between Sirius and James.

Say, James, Sirius was saying as he reached across the table for the flagon of pumpkin juice. Did you happen to see that blonde bit of totty we passed in the hallway?

Hufflepuff girl? James inquired, not looking up from his sandwiches. Amelia Spaulding?

If you say so, Sirius said, his arm stretched out fully and his fingers grasping for the flagon which was still about a hand's length away. Anyway, did you see that look she was giving me?

James said offhandedly. Peter, however, was looking up from his lunch with interest, probably searching for an entrance into their conversation. Remus, who was sat between him and Sirius, seemed to have developed a sudden fascination with a spot on the rim of his solid gold plate.

Well, she was definitely Looking at me, Sirius said proudly, resigning his conquest of the pumpkin juice for the moment in favour of gesturing grandly. And that's Looking' with a capital L,' mate. He traced the letter in the air with his index fingertip. She fancies me, I can tell.

James had a mouth full of cucumber sandwich. He swallowed heavily. She's far out of your league. She could have any boy she wanted. And probably a few of the girls, too.

She fancies the pants off me, Sirius said insistantly, pounding the tabletop with his fist and not noticing how Remus had half-choked on his own glass of pumpkin juice. Remus set the glass back down with a bit more force than was neccessary.

I'd wager she'd skive off class and have a go with me in the greenhouse if I asked, Sirius said, not one to be defeated in any pursuit, be it a prospect or pumpkin juice. He reached across the table again.

James rolled his eyes. Right. Her and every other girl in Hogwarts. And again, probably a few of the b-



Sirius had fairly lunged across the tabletop for the flagon, his outstretched arm knocking Remus's glass right into his lap. Remus looked down at his soaked robes with dismay.

A great many of the students at the table had looked up from their lunches, Lily included. Oh for Merlin's sake, Black! she shouted across the table with a fair amount of disgust. All you had to do was to ask someone to pass it to you! Or are you above that?!

Sorry about that, mate, Sirius said to Remus, though he couldn't help but grin. Can't help myself sometimes!

Lily made a nondescript noise of disapproval and returned her attention to her food. James snorted into his sandwich and Peter gave Remus a sympathetic shrug. Remus dejectly picked up a serviette and went about drying himself as best he could.

A second or two later, Sirius nudged Remus, who looked up. Sirius was holding his wand under the table in one hand, and discreetly pointing to the next table over with the other. Snape, whose hair was still a violent shade of pink, was holding his hands up at shoulder-level and looking down at his robes with disgust. An overturned glass lay beside his plate.

Sirius snickered and patted Remus on the arm. Thanks for the idea.

Somehow, Remus managed a smile for him.

Lights out found Remus curled onto his side in his bed, but he was wide awake and listening for the sounds of sleep from the boys' dormitory. First came the coarse, even breathing of James, every once in a while tainted by the hint of a snore. Next, he heard the faintly shrill, quick inhalations of Peter, shortly followed by the typical night-breathing of Osgood Klee, the other boy in their dormitory. Finally, Remus detected the faint, rumbling snores that could only come from Sirius. His nocturnal breathing pattern sounded like a large, menacing dog trying to growl as softly and gently as possible. Hearing it from halfway across the dormitory stirred something in Remus's heart. The sensation was light and feathery, yet heavy and warm like a humid summer day. The feeling was not unlike that of yearning. Remus hastily pushed himself out of bed, carefully pulled James's invisibility cloak from under the mattress and crept out of the dormitory, trying not to look at Sirius's bed in passing.

It took him well over an hour of wandering round the castle to find it, but eventually, he came upon the door to the dusty class room once again. He made his way over to the mirror where he stood before it and looked. He was not certain why he had come, or what he was expecting, even hoping, to see. Again he saw the hand on his shoulder, the warm smile and the shimmering blue-grey eyes of Sirius Black. His breath caught in his throat as he watched the other boy tenderly kiss him again, and as he ran his fingers along the lines of Remus's neck. When that hand descended once again to the collar of his shirt, he swallowed heavily. His heart thundered in his chest as though riddled with panic, but he did not move. Some part of him rather wished to see how far this would go, and that curiosity stayed his feet on the floor and his rapt gaze at the mirror.

Sirius's hand crept like a kitten over Remus's shirt and undid the top button, then trailed down to work on the next one. As Sirius slid that soft-looking hand into the Remus's shirt, the other arm snaked round his waist.

As he watched, Remus felt something rise within him, fiery and beautiful like the dawn. He could almost feel the warmth of Sirius's hand sliding down his neck, his collarbone, his chest. A tiny cry escaped him as he saw Sirius kiss his neck . . .

A distant whistling shattered his reverie. Remus jerked away from the mirror, suddenly quite alert, his breath caught in his throat. As the whistling drew slowly nearer, he heard a familiar set of mismatched footfalls and his heart froze. Remus knew the shuffling noises to be made by his Herbology teacher and head of Gryffindor House, Professor Arbroi, who had a clubfoot. With shaking hands, Remus hurriedly threw the cloak over himself and retreated to the corner of the room as the whistling and uneven footsteps came down the hall.

He held his breath as he watched the angular silhouette limp past the doorway. Only after the noises had long since faded out of earshot did Remus move from that spot. He left the room and slunk out into the hallway. He did not run back to the Tower as he had before, but rather crept gingerly along the walls, carefully peeking round corners lest he bump into someone who might be prowling the corridors.

When he had made it up the last flight of stairs to the Tower, Remus was met with a most unexpected sight. He froze on the top step as he watched Professor Arbroi, who was in the midst of accosting Sirius just outside the Portrait hole.

What in Merlin's name are you doing, Mr. Black?

Sirius looked for all the world as if Arbroi had just ripped his heart out and shown it to him. Er . . .

You had better have a very good reason to be fannying about at this hour because as far as I know, all students are to remain in their Houses after midnight, Arbroi was now leering at Sirius from her great height. No exceptions.

Remus somehow managed to notice that the Portrait had been left wide open and seized his chance. He carefully crept past Sirius and Arbroi and dissappeared into the Common Room. He hurried up the stairs, throwing off the cloak as he went and tiptoed into the dormitory, stopping only to stow the cloak under James's mattress before climbing into bed. Soon after, Sirius came shuffling up the stairs, his heavy steps revealing that his was in a bad disposition. Remus squirmed a bit and pulled his bedclothes tightly about him in the dark sanctuary of his four poster bed. He nearly cried out when he felt Sirius jump onto his mattress, hurriedly placing a hand over his mouth to quiet him.

Why'd you go out? he hissed savagely. Remus was faintly terrified as Sirius carefully withdrew his hand. The smell of rage hung round the other boy.

Y-you go out all the time, Remus whispered back when he'd recovered his power of speech.

But you never go out, Sirius shot back, his voice dangerously soft, I know you were out last night too.

Remus blinked against the darkness. He could only see the faintest outline of Sirius's face in the sea of black.

That's right. Heard you coming back in. And when you didn't come back for such a long time tonight, I thought you might be in trouble so I was going to go find you.

Remus felt a brief surge of gratitude toward his friend before the sentiment was savaged by Sirius roughly grabbing his shoulder. What'd you do, get attacked by the elves in the kitchen?

I wasn't in the kitchen! Remus gasped.

Then what're you doing arsing about with James's cloak at this hour?!

Remus opened his mouth, then closed it. What could he possibly tell Sirius? He couldn't.

Well, whatever it was, Sirius hissed angrily, it'd better be bloody well worth the twenty points I just lost us.

With that, he picked himself up from Remus's bed and stormed off to his own, no longer caring if he woke up half the dormitory.

Remus rolled over, suddenly swamped with guilt. Sirius had just lost them all twenty points for being a good friend. And even if the boy in the mirror had been loving, gentle and passionate, the real Sirius was angry with him. It was enough to make Remus want to curl into a tight ball till he dissappeared . . .

Yet, as Sirius's last words echoed in his mind, Remus couldn't help thinking that it had been more than worth it. Lifting his hand in the darkness, he touched his neck where he'd seen his reflection kissed. As he continued to feel the spot, his fingertips soon became a pair of warm lips moving sensuously over his skin. He felt a soft fringe of hair brushing his jaw and strong arms embracing him from behind. He heard his name as if from far away.



Sirius . . . He tried to roll over onto his side so that he might trap that lean, warm body in his arms and hold it captive. He did turn over successfully enough, however, before he could carry out the second part of his plan, the two strong hands seized him round the shoulders and held him tightly.



He arched into the warmth, sighing softly as fire raced up and down his frame. Caresses. Kisses. A sudden blow to the face.

Remus, WAKE UP, YOU DOLT!

Remus groaned as he threw his hands over his offended face. When he opened his eyes, he saw James standing over him, brandishing a pillow. Don't just lie there, gitface! Get dressed, we're late!

With that, James tossed his pillow back onto his bed and stalked off to the bathroom. Remus, only just awake enough to wonder fretfully whether he'd been talking in his sleep or not, yanked himself up and out of bed. When he'd put on his robes, he headed down to the bathroom where he found James trying to pacify his stupendous bed-hair with a comb. Remus almost laughed but a glance in the mirror told him he had some fairly stupendous bed-hair himself. I must have been tossing and turning,' he thought. As he brushed his teeth, he hoped that anyone who might have heard him thrashing about would have taken it for a mere nightmare rather than some wonderful, euphoric dream . . .

Budge up, mate, James said, bumping Remus to the side so that he could have part of the sink to lean over while he made use of his own toothbrush. Sho, wha'ishish Shirish telshmebout yegoinout?

Remus felt a rise of sarcasm and remarked, Oh, I didn't know you were Glaswegian.

James rolled his eyes. Fery funny, Remush. He spat white foam into the sink. I said, so what's this Sirius tells me about you going out? He looked up at Remus with a vaguely serious expression. He says you took my cloak and went out last night after everyone else was asleep. And don't bother trying to fob me off with the kitchen. He already told me that's not where you went.

Well, then I won't, because he's right and I didn't, Remus said with a little shrug. Somehow, he felt strangely comfortable talking with James. Perhaps it was because it wasn't James that Remus had seen in the mirror.

So where did you go? James asked almost casually, rinsing his toothbrush. I mean, it's not like I care that you're taking my cloak or anything. I do start caring, however, if you're losing us points. Between Sirius, Peter and me, we lose Gryffindor quite enough points without your help, thank you very much. He flashed Remus a mischievous grin. Besides, I'm nosy as anything and I'll find out eventually, so you might as well spill.

Remus's mind went blank. The answer to James's question would not come to him. He certainly couldn't tell James what he'd seen in the mirror, but at the same time, he couldn't think of anything else to tell him. Remus had never been very good at lying. It was all he could do to plan excuses for his monthly absences in advance. That had begun to worry him lately. According to the list he kept in the back of his notebook, he'd come up with almost twenty different reasons for going away, from having a dentist's appointment back home, to a relative being ill. He was starting to run out of ideas and no new ones were coming to him fast. It seemed that having friends had awakened his sense of trust and his already brittle powers of deception had begun to atrophy even further. I'd rather not say, he answered truthfully, looking down at his feet.

James regarded his friend for a pensive and painfully silent moment, then all at once, devilry flickered in his eyes. Tell you what, Rem. I'll let you borrow my cloak again, whenever you want it, in fact, with one condition. Remus snapped to attention and James named his price. Tonight, I get to go with you.

By the time the two of them had crept into the classroom that night, Remus felt ready to collapse beneath the weight of the anxiety that was pressing in on him. James tugged the cloak off the both of them, bundling it up in his arms as unceremoniously as if it were perfectly acceptable to go creeping round the castle past lights-out. Remus then remembered that, according to James, it probably was perfectly acceptable to do that, among other things.

I've never been in here, he remarked, looking round the moon-swathed room. The staircase just randomly took you here last night?

That's right, Remus answered, trying to keep the worry out of his voice. I think it's an old classroom or something.

James -ed absentmindedly, then asked, So why d'you come here, anyway?

Swallowing hard and silently commanding his heart to not thrum so swiftly, he gestured toward the mirror at the back of the room. He opened his mouth to speak, but he still hadn't the slightest clue of anything he could say. Anything that wasn't incriminating, that is. Bracing himself, he followed James as the other boy made his way over to the mirror, curiosity making his stride brisk. As they neared it, Remus felt dread seize him in its thick coils, a hiss of foreboding sending a chill down his spine. When his friend saw why he was sneaking out, what he'd come here to see . . . He could not look at the glass and closed his eyes, steeling himself for James's appalled gasp.

Merlin's sake, I need a haircut.

Remus's eyes snapped open. In the mirror he saw himself and James exactly as they were, James scrutinising his reflection with disapproval. Remus's heart near dropped right out of him as he looked on. I- I don't understand . . .

James was still wrinkling his nose at his reflection and lifted a hand to his apparently too-long hair. Remus could only shake his head in disbelief. Where was . . . ?

What I don't understand, James said irritably, though Remus couldn't tell whether it was himself or James's hair that James was irritated at, is why you've been sneaking out here to see this. He gestured vaguely at the mirror with his free hand. It's just a mirror, like the ones we have in the boys' toilet.

But it's not! Remus argued, sounding a lot more desperate than he would have liked. While he was somewhat relieved that James could not see what Remus had though he'd see, Remus found himself dismayed at the thought that Sirius had gone from the mirror. If being able to relive his fantasy again meant revealing his dirty little secret to James, so be it. Without really thinking, Remus gave his friend an efficient, ungentle shove closer to the mirror and leapt away. Try looking at it that way. Now do you see?

James squinted at the mirror and Remus held his breath. Hang on . . . He looked over his shoulder, glancing round the room before turning back to the mirror. What's Madam Pegasus d- Blimey, she's giving me the Quidditch Cup!

Remus choked on his bewilderment. Quidditch . . . Cup . . . ?

James nodded rapidly, his mouth broadening into a grin. I've won us the Quidditch Cup! And there's McGonagall in background! She's hijacked Romola's broom and now she's chasing Snape all over the field, twatting him round the head with our Transfiguration textbook!

Even Remus had to grin at that.

Ha, you should see this, Rem. He's crying like a baby! And there's Evans- James trailed off and it was all Remus could do not to laugh at the colour that was rising in his friend's cheeks.

And there's Evans doing what? he teased.

Nevermind . . . James said pallidly, positively engrossed in whatever it was he was seeing.

Remus felt he had a fair inkling as to what it was. Oh, shall I leave you and the mirror alone for a moment? Remus said coyly. James nodded vigourously, not taking his eyes away from the mirror's shining surface. Remus chuckled to himself and picked up the invisibility cloak, then trooped off to the door. Very well, then, I'll just stand guard here, shall I? Make certain no one comes? It wasn't till he'd actually reached the doorway that he realised the little pun he'd unintentionally made. He snickered, then threw the cloak over himself and stepped out into the hall to give his friend some privacy. He was actually feeling no little bit light-hearted. He also felt an urge to smack himself for being so daft. Of course the mirror would only show a person's specific desires to that person. And James's reaction to his own vision was rather amusing, now that Remus could look back on it without the weight of that dread wrapped round him. Remus felt so happy, he actually danced a little jig beneath the cloak. His secret was still safe.

After what he guessed to be about ten minutes later, Remus poked his head inside the door. Are you decent?

James was, in fact, a picture almost perfect decency, sitting on the floor with his legs crossed and his chin resting on the back of his hand. The only thing that would have roused suspicion was the stupidly beatific grin smacked all over his face. Remus snickered. Was it good for you?

Ah shut your face, James said, throwing Remus a playfully filthy look. And it's best thing since they put the Fizzing in Whizbees, whatever it is.

Remus said, sitting beside James and watching as his reflection did likewise. That first word in the carving at the top of the frame is ERISED', which is spelled backwards, so I suppose this mirror shows you what you want most.

James smiled wryly. Or who you want most.

That too, Remus agreed, nodding and also smiling, though for his own reasons.

So how about you?

What about me?

Who's in it with you when you look? James queried, smirking and poking Remus in the ribs. I'd wager it's Romola, isn't it?

Remus saw his reflection go from blankly panicked to quizzical all in one second. Wha-?! No one-?! Who?!

James blinked at the scattered state of Remus's response. Romola Terrence? Ravenclaw Prefect? Brown hair? Brown eyes? Nice arse? Any of this ringing a bell?

Oh right, Remus said distractedly, looking away from the mirror as he toyed with a loose string on his clothing so he wouldn't have to see himself lying through his teeth. Right, that's her. I really like her. She's very pretty, isn't she? Not as pretty as Lily, of course, but pretty. Very pretty.

Silence hung between them and Remus felt very stupid. The lack of noise was such that he could almost hear the silence itself laughing at him.





You're utter crap at fibbing, did you know? He laughed. Now come on, who do you see? He pressed, getting up and pulling Remus to his feet as well, then stepping away. Remus watched with some trepidation as his friend's reflection vanished beyond the carved frame of the mirror. Even as he saw the pale, moon-washed hand of Sirius Black materialising on his shoulder, Remus smirked and said, I see you.

James's mouth dropped open and his eyes went wide with incredulity and something that looked like terror. Me? Me, as in James Potter me?

Remus laughed. That's right, I see James Potter. I see him stepping out for a bit to give Remus Lupin a go with the mirror as Remus was kind enough to do for him.

Har har har. James rolled his eyes and flipped Remus off before snatching up the Cloak and taking his leave as requested. As Remus watched him disappear under the cloak and the door swing open a bit, he began to wonder if he'd gone too far. Had it been a mistake to tell his friend that he'd seen himself with another boy in the mirror, even if he was only joking that it had been James? That could stir suspicion, especially after he'd dodged the question of who he did see and failed so embarrassingly at pretending it was a girl . . .

Remus's worries, however, fell by the wayside as he watched Sirius's expert fingers unbuttoning his shirt, sliding over his skin as they'd done before. His head tilted to the side of its own accord as his neck was kissed. Feeling surrender creeping up his knees, Remus lowered himself to a sitting position on the dusty floorboards, not taking his eyes off the mirror. Sirius had been guiding his reflection to the floor, with gentle but firm touches along his sides. Once he was sat, Sirius sank into a kneel and finished unbuttoning the shirt so as to fully explore the contours of Remus's torso, starting at his slender waist, then tracing each faintly visible rib till those animated fingers reached the sparcely muscled chest. Remus bit his lip to keep from moaning or sighing. He'd heard a few telltale noises from James while waiting in the hallway, but he wasn't about to do the same in return.

Sirius was still working away at Remus's neck, his tongue keen, pink and glistening against the silvered tableau of moonlit classroom, rumpled clothing and smooth skin. Remus felt that familiar heat rising within him and his breathing veered off course, becoming slightly staggered. He imagined he could feel the warmth in the pads of Sirius's fingertips and palms tracing a map of fire over his body. He told himself he could feel that hot mouth enslaving his neck. When Sirius's hands ventured lower, it was all Remus could do to keep his own hands from doing the same . . .

Another ten minutes later found the two back under the cloak and making their way down the corridor to the Common Room. About halfway there, James stopped, putting a hand on Remus's shoulder to stop him as well.

What is it? he whispered.

You've got dust all over your bum, James informed him.

Remus said, then went about swatting his hands across his trousers to get the fluffy grey bits off. He then remembered that James had been sitting on the floor as well and looked inquiringly at the seat of his friend's trousers.

I already brushed mine off. James said dismissively. Indeed, he was void of dust,
except for one little bit clinging to the fabric of his clothing.

You missed a spot. Remus said and went about brushing the remaining dust from James's trousers.

When he finished, he found his friend staring at him strangely. You're not a poof are you?

Remus's heart jolted violently. He forced calm into his nerves and looked at James as though he'd sprouted flowers out of his ears. Where did that come from?

James shrugged, I dunno, I've never seen you go for girls, you won't tell me who you see in the mirror and now you're hovering round my arse.

Remus frowned as though he'd been insulted, though it was all he could do to keep his knees from shaking. First of all, I've never really gone for anyone and second, you still had some dust on your trousers, I already told you that.

James eyed him suspiciously. What about the mirror?

In the mirror, Remus began, trying to make his speech sound as natural as possible, I'm getting my letter from Hogwarts, and there's a Prefect badge in it.

You want to be a Prefect? James queried, surprised.

Remus said, shrugging, It'd look good on my record in any case. And I'm holding a new puppy. I've always wanted a dog, Remus reasoned quickly, amazed at how fast the fibs were coming to him. And it's my fifth year and I've gotten top marks on my O.W.L.s. That's all. he finished. James still looked suspicious, but Remus was saved by the sound of footfalls coming down the hall. Making sure the Cloak was covering them completely, they darted to the side, pressing themselves as close to the wall as possible and waited.

Finally, Geoffrey Morgan, the heavyset blonde Hufflepuff Prefect rounded the corner and came striding pompously down the hall in the direction of his House. After he'd passed the Cloaked duo and dissappeared from view, Remus snickered softly.

What's he doing, prowling round the corridors in the dead of night? James hissed.

He's just come from the toilet, Remus whispered, smirking.

How can you tell?

He had toilet paper on his shoe.

James and Remus made it back to the Tower with no further talk of the Mirror or Remus's sexual orientation and for that, Remus was very glad. He had a feeling he wouldn't have been able to keep up his lies for much longer, the images were so vivid in his mind.

As he climbed into bed, Remus reflected on what he'd seen in the Mirror. James had dutifully given him a full ten minutes at least, and that had been enough. Sirius had taken him, right before his eyes. He had been gentle, but there was a quiet ferocity in the way he held Remus's trembling frame against him, stroking, tasting, thrusting. It was all Remus had been able do to keep quiet as he watched himself in the mirror, arching against the other boy, his mouth falling open in a silent howl of pleasure.

Even now, utterly alone in the dark space between the curtains of his four poster bed, Remus shivered to remember it all. Recollection sent pleasurable tingles scurrying along his body. In the wake of this sensation came a cool, soothing sort of freedom that glittered as it washed over him.

Remus wanted Sirius. He wanted Sirius to kiss him, touch him, take him. He wanted Sirius to want him.

. . . And finally being able to admit that to himself without the bitter aftertaste of shame was the best feeling in the world.

The next few weeks passed fairly uneventfully, except that James tried out for the House Quidditch team and was appointed Seeker for Gryffindor. After a celebration for him in the Common Room, life at Hogwarts went on as could be expected. Whenever they could, the four spent Saturday morning outside with Remus's football. During the academic week, they pretty much clung to their individual pasttimes and penchants. Peter struggled with his studies. James attended Quidditch practice and hexed Snape on an almost daily basis. Sirius flirted with every girl in sight. Remus watched Sirius flirt with every girl in sight. Of course it annoyed him, but he could hardly complain. The girls waved to Sirius and smiled at him, so why shouldn't Sirius do the same in return? Remus didn't act upon his newfound attraction, so Sirius didn't flirt with him. He knew it was not as simple as that, really, but Remus was always one for cold, hard logic, even if it didn't make him feel any better. Besides, he always had the mirror to fall back on if his own bitterness became too much for him. On nights when James and Sirius did not go out to sneak food from the kitchens, the Cloak was available to Remus and he always made use of it in the same way.

One evening, James was late in returning from Quidditch practice. Sirius was also missing from the Common Room, Remus noticed. He had actually managed to finish his assignments a bit earlier than he'd planned, so he'd settled down in an armchair with a Muggle novel and begun to read. Peter was on the other side of the Common Room, buried in a heap of homework.

Sooner or later, the Portrait Hole opened and in stepped Sirius and James. The latter was carrying two heavy textbooks in the crook of his arm.

Nicked these from the Restricted Section in the library with a little help from the cloak, James explained in a sidelong whisper to Remus. Me and Sirius and Pete are fancying the idea of becoming Animagi.

Think of all the skiving and marauding we could do if we could change into animals whenever we wanted, Sirius added thoughtfully.

It's just a hobby on the side. We haven't gotten any real results yet. I think I actually managed to grow a tail at some point, but I'm not sure, James said, carefully setting the two books on the table in the far corner of the Common Room. He turned to Sirius, You wanna go get Peter?

Sirius said and sidled off to the other side of the room where Peter was studying.

James grinned. We started working on it last year, and I only just got round to getting the books back this year. I don't think we'll actually be able to do it, but it's a fun idea anyway.

Remus said, only partially interested. He had other things on his mind. Er, James? If you're not going to be using your cloak any more tonight, could I borrow it?

James blinked, then nodded and retrieved the cloak from his satchel. Sure thing, Rem.

That night, Remus returned to the mirror again, ready to salve his pangs of longing by watching delicious procedure in the reflection and dreaming it all real . . .

Welcome back, Remus.

Remus felt as though he'd been plunged into ice-cold water. Rigid with dread, he turned toward the source of the voice, though he already knew to whom it belonged.

Professor Dumbledore, Remus breathed, standing and dusting himself off for the sake of having something to do. The headmaster was sat on the desk at the front of the classroom in the lotus position, his hands resting palms up upon his knees. The bottom of his beard rested in a curl in his lap, gleaming silver in the moonlight and he was surveying Remus with clear, placid blue eyes.

I didn't even notice you there, Remus remarked, bewildered as he approached the desk. Dumbledore smiled gently. When meditating, the goal is to become one with your surroundings. Don't just feel the world round you. Become a part of it. Lose yourself in it. Bid the material realm farewell and . . . Disappear. He raised an eyebrow, looking directly at the cloak in Remus's arms.

A shock of dread arched in the pit of Remus's stomach. James had warned him not to be caught with the cloak. Now, he was facing Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts, having taken the cloak out for a bimble round the school when he should rightly be asleep. The cloak would be confiscated for sure. When he returned to James empty-handed . . . And the mirror . . . Dumbledore knew he'd come here before. Had he seen . . . ? It was all Remus could do to remain standing.

I see you've discovered the Mirror of Erised and the splendid sights therein, Dumbledore commented mildly, unfolding his legs and rising from the desk. However, I must tell you, Remus, that splendid sights are sights nonetheless and should not be regarded as anything more.

I-I beg your pardon, sir, Remus stammered, but what do you mean?

I mean only this, Dumbledore explained, pointing to the mirror, What you see in this mirror is an illusion and nothing more. It is beautiful to look at, but making a habit of simply looking just will not do. Life is not a spectator sport, Remus. He placed a hand on the boy's shoulder. It is like any other sport; the only way to achieve your goal is to pursue it and take a shot. You of all people should know this, Dumbledore said quietly, dropping a wink. Speaking of which, I might recommend you use a drying Charm on the grass before you start to play on it. That way, you might not slip and fall so much. He smiled.

Remus could not help smiling back. Th-thank you, sir.

Dumbledore nodded. Very well, then. Now, why don't you and that remarkable cloak head back up to your dormitory?

Remus's mouth fell open. You mean-?

No, Remus, I am not going to confiscate it, Dumbledore confirmed, And I must ask you to not plan on using it to visit this place again. I will be moving the Mirror to a new location tomorrow and I must request that you honour what I have said about the importance of pursuit in life and not go looking for it. Please believe me when I say you won't be needing it if you take my words to heart.

I understand, sir, Remus said, nodding once.

Dumbledore added, a small twinkle in his eye, Mr. Black and Mr. Potter have already discovered that this Cloak can be put toward much more tasteful purposes. Good-night Remus.

Remus grinned. Thank you, Headmaster. Good-night. He threw the cloak over himself and quietly left the classroom.

Their first class the next day was Defence Against the Dark Arts, and James and Remus were walking the fine line between punctual and tardy. They found their seats barely half a second before Professor Ayne came sweeping into the room. He was a fairly average man to look at with floppy, boyish auburn hair and pale green eyes behind round glasses, but he had a certain flair to him that made him the subject of a lot of gossip and sniggering amongst the student populace.

Simmer, simmer, Professor Ayne chirped as he strode briskly up the gap between the desks to the front of the classroom. When he reached his desk, he turned to face them, his robes sweeping magnificently behind him as he did. he began with a broad smile, Yesterday, we left off with fire manipulation and how to detect an oncoming pyro-attack, I believe . . .

As he flipped through a textbook, Remus heard a few students behind him whispering to each other, making various puns on the subject of Fire Magic. He heard the word drifting amongst them, and felt something cold lurch inside him. He glanced over at the other side of the room where Sirius was sat, sneering at Ayne and occasionally whispering to the girl next to him. She giggled and blushed every time he did.

Ah, yes, Professor Ayne said suddenly, tapping the page his book was now open to, Now that we know what a Flame Hex is, we'd better learn how to counter it, hm? Page one hundred eighty-four, if you please.

When the lesson was over, the students surged out of the classroom, lighthearted and wrought with giggling as they usually were after almost every class with Professor Ayne.

That Ayne is such a bloody ponce, James was saying to Sirius as they, along with Remus and Peter were making their way back to the Great Hall for dinner. Makes you wonder what he does in his spare time, James smirked and added as an afterthought, Or who he does.

Peter sniggered and Sirius laughed that crisp, barklike laugh of his that Remus would have loved to hear any other day. Remus tried to laugh along with them, but found it was all he could do not to give Sirius a good kick in the trousers.

Sirius agreed, mirth colouring his words, I'd wager it's Snivellus. How else is he getting top marks in the class?

As the other three erupted with laughter, Remus looked down at his feet so they wouldn't see him scowling.

James pulled a mocking tone into his voice as he pretended to be Snape, Oh, Professor Ayne, I just love your class! I love the Dark Arts!

Sirius cottoned on and made a sweeping gesture of flattery, Why thank you, my boy! Why don't you pop by after supper and we can discuss all of the things you love? He fingered his wand suggestively, then dropped it. Ooo bugger, my wand! Speaking of which, tell me, dear boy, what rhymes with

They burst into hysterics, all except Remus, who had had enough.

Peter gave a startled yelp as he was jostled by Remus, who stormed ahead of them at a swift, jerky clip. For a few thick seconds, the three just stared, thunderstruck, as Remus left them in his wake and dissappeared amongst the the crowd of fellow students. They continued to walk and chatter amongst themselves as if nothing had happened, as if they hadn't even noticed the state Remus was in as he passed. Then again, hardly anyone noticed Remus . . .

What's eating him? Peter mused out loud. As if in response, Sirius charged after Remus, forgetting the other two entirely. After a moment's search that passed in a blur, he found his target at the bottom of the staircase to Gryffindor Tower. Oi, Remus! he called. Wait up!

Remus did stop, then rounded on Sirius. What do you want?

Sirius scowled right back, mirroring Remus's own insolent expression, What's your problem?

My problem?! Remus spat heatedly, unable to believe that Sirius could possibly be angry with him after what he'd heard. How dare he?!

You heard me! Sirius yelled. You're all tetchy, snapping at everyone, sneaking out at night! He stopped abruptly when he realised that they were being stared at. He whipped round and yelled, What?! Does this look like it involves you?! Sod off! The little cluster of first and second years was duly scattered.

He turned back to Remus. Having expelled some heat in that last outburst, he was able to quiet his voice a bit. Remus, something's going on.

Remus snorted. All that's going on is you're being a pig-headed toerag. Just because someone makes a few gestures here and there that doesn't mean he's buggering his students.

Sirius's mouth fell open. That stuff we were saying about Ayne and Snape? Come on, it was a joke!

Not a very funny one, Remus snarled.

Why are you getting so worked up over it?

Remus's heart twisted and he turned away from Sirius, I have my reasons. He started up the staircase.

Sirius lunged after him, clearing the first three steps in a single leap. Don't you turn your back on me when I'm talking to you! He seized Remus by the forearm. Remus tried to yank himself free and yelled Let go! Sirius yanked back. What're you hiding?! When Remus only continued to struggle against his grip, he gave an exceptionally hard tug. Before he could really comprehend what he'd done, Remus was falling against him, sending the two of them reeling backwards. They found the hall floor with a dull thud. Remus's head swam, but he felt no pain upon impact. A groan from Sirius brought him back to himself and he looked up sharply. His heart skipped a beat as he realised that the soft surface he'd lifted his head from was Sirius's chest and he found himself staring into a pair of pale, grey-blue eyes, narrowed in pain. It only vaguely occurred to him that he was lying on top of Sirius, he was so lost in that stare.

For one beautiful, pain-riddled moment, the two of them stayed like that, Remus impaled upon the silvered gaze of his friend as Sirius lay gasping beneath him, his hair splayed round his head like black tongues of flame.

Only when James and Peter came running onto the scene did Remus break out of his reverie. At Peter's startled cry, Remus jerked himself up and off of Sirius as if he'd been scalded. Sputtering apologies and trying not to look at his other friends' bewildered faces, he hastily held out his hand for Sirius to help him to his feet. Sirius, having come back to himself but still wincing, grasped Remus's hand, only to pause, staring at it strangely. The sleeve of his robes had been pulled up a bit in the scuffle, baring half his forearm. Sirius pulled his hand toward him for a closer look, but Remus, realising what Sirius was looking at, jerked out of his grasp. Leaving Sirius in a confused heap on the floor, he fled up the stairs without a word and dissappeared from view.

James and Peter ran to Sirius's side and helped him up themselves.

What was that all about? Peter queried, sounding for all the world like he's just watched a boa constrictor crush a puppy to death.

I . . . don't know, Sirius answered truthfully. But something's going on.

How do you mean? James asked, only to jump in disgust, Ugh, man, you're bleeding! He pointed to the floor. A smear of red glistened on the spot where Sirius's head had hit. Sirius instinctively lifted a hand to the back of his head. His fingers came back red.

Let's go the hospital wing, James suggested, though he actually grabbed Sirius's arm and pushed him in the direction in a way that said it was an intention, not a suggestion. We'll talk there.

Peter, still no little bit gobsmacked by it all, toddled mutely behind them.

After Madam Pomfrey had patched Sirius up, the three were sat on the bed farthest to the back of the hospital wing, talking quietly.

Has anyone else noticed Remus is acting really odd lately? Sirius asked, touching the bandage on the back of his head for the sake of busying his hands.

Peter nodded diminutively, his eyes dark with thought. He's been really uptight. When I asked him to help me with my Divination Homework, he acted like he didn't hear me. It was like he was off in his own little world or something. Maybe it has something to do with him going out at night.

Hm, that could have something to do with it, Sirius agreed, turning to James. Did you ever find out why he goes out?

Not yet, James lied. He didn't want to have to tell Sirius about the mirror. If he did, there would be questions and he didn't really want to share what he'd seen reflected in the glass.

Well, I think Remus is hiding something from us, Sirius said decisively. And I think he needs our help.

James frowned quizzically. Help? What for?

When he went to help me up back there, Sirius said gravely, I saw his wrist and it's covered with scars.

Peter made a small, choking noise and his eyes widened. James said, unbelieving. So you think he's-

I dunno, Sirius said, his eyes a grim, glass-grey colour in the waning daylight. But if he's hurting himself, I want to know why.

It could have been an accident, Peter offered tentatively, twisting his fingers into each other, He could've been careless with the kitchen knife, or some-

Careless with the kitchen knife . . . James mused quietly to himself as recollection began to unravel the veil over his mind.

Sirius made an incredulous noise, Peter, this wasn't just one scar. His wrist looked like he attacked it with one of those Muggle chain saws. It didn't stop at his wrist either. From what I saw, I'd wager he's got scars all up his arms. It's happened more than once and it wasn't an accident.

Peter flinched at Sirius's tone, but James was already on his feet.

Where're you - ?

I've gotta go talk to Remus, see you back at the Common Room! James gushed in one breath as he took off, leaving Peter and Sirius staring blankly after him.

When he arrived back at the common room, James was relieved to find it empty, save for Remus. He then remembered that everyone was down at the Great Hall having dinner and James realised that he had quite forgotten that he was missing his evening meal. However, he pushed any newly-awakened hunger off to the side. He might not have another chance to talk with Remus alone in the common room like this any time soon.

The other boy was sat in a comfortable armchair by the fire. He had his Charms textbook open in his lap and was reading with his brow set in an industrious furrow. James took a deep breath and approached him.

Oi, Rem, James said, waving his hand in front of his friend's eyes. I wanna talk to you about something.

You can brag about whatever hex you put on Snape later, Remus said tartly, pushing James's hand away and not taking his eyes of his book. I've put off this reading too long as it is.

You'll want to hear this, James insisted firmly, a bit more serious.

Not right now, I don't, said Remus, annoyed.

Remus, listen to me.

James, for last t-

I know your secret.

Remus froze, save for his hands which trembled upon the pages of his book. Heat rose in his face and with it, anger and humiliation. His mind raced. How had James found out? He hadn't told anyone! Had he said too much at the mirror that night? Had James seen him staring intently at Sirius? Had he talked in his sleep? Remus wanted to speak, but his words were stunted by his horror.

James said quickly, though his voice was jagged with haste and trifling irritation. I know everything. Why didn't you tell me? How can you expect any of us to be your friends if you don't trust us? Sirius is really worried about you, and Peter-

Remus snapped acidly, feeling all his carefully-guarded self-control crumbling away as he jerked round to face James. James felt trepidation crawl through his insides as he saw the wild sheen of anger in Remus's widened eyes. This boy, whom he had always seen as frail, softspoken and passive now looked ready to tear James's throat out right then and there. Is he?! Remus cried out, enraged. Well, you can tell Sirius that yes, I am a poof and yes, I fancy him, and yes, I was staring at his arse yesterday. You can tell him that I snuck out under your cloak so I could look at some stupid mirror and watch him fuck me into the floor! That's right, when I look at the Mirror, I see him! And you can tell him to go fuck half the first years for all I care when you two tell the whole school Backs to the wall! Lupin's queer!'!

James had fallen back against another armchair, his jaw slack and his eyes wide with terror. Silence exploded painfully between the two and all round them, the air reeked of catharsis. Remus shrank back against the chair as if beseeching it swallow him. His book fell, forlorn and open to the floor. The stark, white pages glared up at the two boys.



Go away, Remus growled coldly. Leave me alone.

James stood his ground. Remus, I was talking about your lycanthropy.

Remus rounded on James as if to yell at him again, but the only sound that escaped him was a tiny, quizzical, W-! . . . Huh?

When I said I knew your secret, I meant that I know why you keep disappearing, James said evenly, though a residue of shock still clung to his voice. I know you're a werewolf.

Remus felt leaden, as though even his voice was too heavy to raise. After a few moments of silent straining, he managed to utter, H-how did you find out?

James shrugged, Actually Peter just said something that made me remember something from before I came to Hogwarts and I made the connection. And, it's a bit too convenient that you're allergic' to silver and your gran's ill on the night of the full moon.

I suppose, Remus said a little balefully, averting his eyes.

Hey, it's all right, James said quickly, touching his friend's shoulder and making Remus look up suddenly. What, did you think we'd hate you or be afraid of you if we knew?

Remus said flatly.

Well, I don't think you're giving us much credit. James laughed a bit. It was a shimmering, colourless sound. I mean come on, we're not that small in the head. Not even Peter, and that's saying something. You know, I had a neighbour who was a werewolf. She was really nice. Made really good cookies, too.

Remus blinked. So, you don't care-?

James gestured dismissively, Course not. Friends are friends. Besides, werewolves are people too. He stopped and considered what he just said. Er, except on that one night each month, of course.

Remus said quietly, studying the fibres in the carpet.

Speaking of which, James added, pointing out the window, the sun's going down. You'd better go find Madam Pomfrey soon.

Oh, right, Remus muttered, getting to his feet with some difficulty. He'd been so preoccupied with thoughts of Sirius and the Mirror for the past few days that he'd all but forgotten that the full moon was at hand.

As he made his way to the Portrait Hole, he stopped and turned back to his friend. Uh, James? About that stuff I told you . . .

James shrugged and crossed his mouth with a finger. Your secret's safe with me.

Remus nodded his thanks and left, feeling just a bit lighter than before.

The next morning, Remus was sat up in bed in the hospital wing, rubbing sleep out his
eyes with one heavily bandaged wrist. He wished Madam Pomfrey could heal his wounds the way she could others, but there is powerful magic in a werewolf's bite that makes the symptoms uncurable. Even the wound itself could not be healed by magic, and had to be treated the Muggle way. Likewise, the resulting scars were permanent and could not be removed by any magical means, hence Remus's long-standing friendship with long sleeves.

Remus held his arm up and made a face at what he saw. At this point in his life, he was well-practiced at nursing his own wounds the morning after his transformation. He could usually bandage his arms himself, put on long sleeves and then go about his life as usual. However, it had been a rough night. Not as rough as it could have been, but he'd done some considerable damage to himself and Madam Pomfrey was of the opinion that he should have a bit of rest before he rejoined the world at large. He looked at the red-stained bandages pensively, picturing what the wounds had looked like before they'd been covered. He knew that a werewolf did not keep his human mind when he changed, but Remus had often wondered if any emotional turmoil he had prior to the full moon effected the mind of the wolf during it.

Yawning, Remus extended a bandage-encased arm toward the table, reaching for the pitcher of water that Madam Pomfrey always left.

There was something else there. Remus frowned, puzzled, as he lifted what looked like a greeting card from the table. It was completely blank inside and all over, little more than a folded piece of parchment. He nearly jumped clear out of bed when familiar, messy writing began to scrawl across the card of its own accord.

Morning, Rem! It's James. Pretty neat, eh? I found this spell in our Charms textbook that lets me write stuff on one piece of parchment and it automatically gets written on another. I Charmed yours last night while everyone else was asleep and slipped it to you early this morning with the help from our friend, The Cloak. Would have left you a regular old note, but none of the students are supposed to know you're a werewolf and I didn't want Pomfrey to find evidence in writing that you'd told anyone. Hope I did the spell right. If not, you're not reading this anyway and I'm sitting in Transfiguration writing pointlessly like a sleep-deprived dolt when I should be trying to turn this spadger into a badger like a sleep-deprived dolt.

Remus smiled, both from amusement and gratitude.

Anyway, I wanted to tell you I meant what I said last night. Sirius and Peter are really worried about you. Especially Sirius. I probably shouldn't tell you this, but Sirius told me the day before yesterday that he saw the scars on your arms. He thinks you're cutting yourself.

The smile dropped and Remus's heart thumped heavily. Sirius thought he was . . . ? The writing resumed its course and he followed it avidly with his eyes.

I'll let you tell them yourself. And if you don't want Sirius to have you committed, I'd do it soon if I were you. They both deserve to know. Besides, if Sirius is a good enough friend to be that concerned about you, he's a good enough friend to know the truth.

Remus exhaled heavily and tried to tell himself that he was not sighing. You sound like my mum,' he thought thickly.

And now that I look at those last few lines, I realise I must sound like your mum, James continued, making Remus blink in surprise. All lecturing aside, I think you should tell them. They'll be all right with it. As for that other thing you told me . . .

This time, Remus inhaled. Sharply.

. . . I'm all right with it, I guess. Better Sirius's arse than mine, anyway.

Remus wasn't sure whether he wanted to laugh at that or not.

As long as you keep your hands to yourself around me and don't talk too much about it, then it's fine. But I think you shouldn't tell Sirius that particular secret until you're sure he'll be all right with it. He's got a lot of attention of the female persuasion and he doesn't seem too unhappy about it.

Don't I know it, Remus muttered bitterly.

He could have any girl he wanted - but if he came near Evans, I'd trample him into the dirt. Or headbutt him in the groin. Or both . . .

He felt his smile contemplating its return.

Well, you get it. But who knows? Maybe he does swing that way. Like I said, he could have any girl he wanted, but he hasn't actually picked one yet, has he?

Remus did smile as he read that, a new hope burst into fluttering life in his heart.

In any case, be really careful about that half of your secret. And don't tell Peter because he might blow your cover. To tell you the truth, after seeing how nasty you got over the whole thing last night, I've got to say I hope you do land him. I'm rooting for you. . . . Ack, gotta go. The lesson ended three minutes ago and I'm still sitting here!

As James ended the letter with a very foul swearword and a hasty good-bye, Remus could not remember a time when he'd felt more happy. He'd always been afraid of hope because he knew it could very well let him down in the end, but this hope was too great and too sweet not to indulge in. James had a point. Sirius was constantly on the receiving end of many an adoring stare from girls as he walked from class to class. However, he'd done little more than flash a winning smile in return. Remus also felt overwhelming joy and gratitude. Not only had James accepted him for who and what he was, but the was rooting for his friend, hoping that he would tell Sirius how he felt and win him over. Remus smiled more brightly and broadly than he'd ever thought possible. At last, he had a true friend.

He was so intent on staring at that impossibly uplifting, I'm rooting for you, that he didn't even realise that Madam Pomfrey had arrived at his bedside till she spoke.

What is that?

Remus started, making the mattress springs creak. Oh! I . . . Sorry. All at once, he threw himself out of bed. The bloody bandages flickered briefly into view when the sleeves of his hospital gown rode up his arms as he flung them outward for momentum. Madam Pomfrey cried out at this sudden display of energy, Mr. Lupin, what-?!

I'd like to go to class now, Madam Pomfrey, Remus said, his voice and expression limned with enthusiasm and eagerness. He picked up his clothes where she'd set them on the bedside table and slipped the parchment into one of the pockets of his robes. I feel much better!

That afternoon, during lunch, the four friends met at Remus's behest under the oak tree by the lake.

So, what's this all about? Sirius asked as he had a seat on the grass, propping himself up with his hands behind his back and stretching his legs out in front.

Peter nodded, a trifle sore over being hurried outside before he could grab a treacle tart. Yeah, what's so important it couldn't wait till after dessert? After a few seconds of touching the ground experimentally, he finally sat. Peter had an odd habit of inspecting places before he sat on them, carefully eying them and brushing or poking them lightly with a fingertip as if to make sure the surface wouldn't scald him. Only after he'd done all that would he gingerly lower himself onto the chair, the carpet, the ground, or whatever was available at the time. It was a sight that never failed to quietly amuse Remus.

The other two settled down on the grass as well and James turned to Remus, offering a wink and an almost conspiratorial smile. Well Remus, we're waiting with baited breath to hear this news of yours, so spill already.

Remus smiled. Beneath the bandages on his chest, his heart was thrumming, making him lightheaded with excitement. It was then that he realised that he hadn't even thought about how he was going to tell them. How to begin . . . ? A yellow feather of anxiety tickled at his determination, but he did not falter.

He spoke smoothly. How would you all describe me?

Everyone looked a bit surprised at Remus's inquiry. Even James looked as though he had not expected that. Come on, then. Don't try to flatter me, Remus urged. It's important. What do you three think of me?

Sirius finally spoke. Well, you're kind of . . . withdrawn, he said guardedly. Remus tried not to grin when he noticed Sirius glance at his sleeves as if trying to see through them. You're a bit shy, I mean, he amended hastily.

Peter offered timidly, toying with a bit of grass. And you read a lot.

A trifle queer, I'd say.

Remus started at that remark and fixed James with an alarmed and betrayed glare. James shrugged innocently. Well, you have to admit, you are a bit on the odd side.

He shot a sidelong glance at James as if to say, You promised! Don't push it!' and quickly glanced from Sirius to Peter, assessing them. From what he could see, the insinuation had been lost on the two. Relief swept away his panic and he promptly got back on-topic. So, if people asked about me as a person, you'd tell them I'm withdrawn, shy, quiet, studious, and odd. He chanced a meaningful look at James who simply straightened his tie and pretended to be fascinated with a knot on one of the tree's roots.

What're you getting at, Remus? Sirius muttered through a sigh as he ran his hand through his hair.

Would you say I was dangerous? Not to be trusted? Monstrous? Remus inquired benignly. Do you think that I'm not the sort of person you'd want to meet alone at night? He could almost feel James's smirk beside him as he cast a discreet glance at Sirius who shrugged.

I wouldn't say so, Peter volunteered.

Me, neither, Sirius agreed, though the slant in his voice betrayed an edge of suspicion. You seem pretty tame to me. Why?

Well, I'm glad you all think as much, Remus said simply, gathering his courage. Because there's something else you should know about me.

And what's that? James cajoled, nudging Remus's arm. Remus cottoned on and edged closer to Sirius. He looked meaningfully at the boy in front of him and rolled up his sleeves.

Peter yelped in shock at the sight of the bloodied bandages and nearly fell backward. Sirius said nothing, but his breathing grew taut and his jaw clenched. His eyes were hard and unreadable like smooth marble. Remus considered toying with him for a bit longer, but that would mean subjecting himself to the possibility of another near miss from James. He said, There's more.

Sirius watched silently as Remus peeled back one of the bandages, wincing at the pain as he bared his savaged wrist. Sirius leaned in for a closer look and frowned. Are those bitemarks?

Remus nodded. Sirius looked at up to face him, concern warring with pride in his eyes. Did you get attacked by a dog last night?

I got attacked by myself, Remus said quietly.

Peter was whimpering and scooted closer to James. Sirius did not take his eyes off of Remus. I don't under-

I'm a werewolf.

If Sirius hadn't been stock still from shock before, he was rigid now. Dismay blossomed blackly inside Remus, making his heart sink. Things were not going as well as he had thought. The way James had written, he'd expected the others to take to this news like a weather forecast. He saw at once that he was wrong. Even after the slow lead-up, they were shocked. Frightened, even. Remus averted his eyes. Looking into Sirius's own alarmed ones was like looking into the glare of the sun. It hurt too much. Even looking at his wounded arm did not hurt so much as he let his gaze drift downward.

A dull thudding noise to the side broke the spell and both boys looked up sharply.

W-what happened? Sirius stammered. James was leaning over the reclined form of Peter, bewilderment and amusement colouring his expression. He fainted!So that's why you get peaky as the moon gets fuller, James commented with realisation. Peter, who had not yet said a word on the subject, reached for the pitcher on the bedside table and poured himself a glass of water. His hands trembled, but only slightly and Remus was relieved to see as much. Peter was still shaken by the news, but the initial shock was steadily ebbing away.

That's right. The bigger the moon gets, the more I feel it inside me, building momentum for the transformation. Remus nodded, running his fingers through his hair which had adopted a pale, metallic sheen in the brilliant afternoon sunshine that streamed in through the windows of the hospital wing. Almost an hour had passed since their palaver outside. After Peter had fainted, they'd taken him to the hospital wing, somehow managing to fob Madam Pomfrey off by telling her that he'd been done for by the heat and too much time in the sun. He'd come to a short while later and was now sat up in his bed with the others gathered round. The hospital wing was otherwise empty and offered some much-needed privacy for the three to glean further gory details about Remus's condition.

Right, well, that explains your disappearing but you still haven't told us exactly why you hurt yourself like that, Sirius said darkly as he leaned against the wall, arms crossed over his chest.

I'm locked up and there's no one else to bite, so I don't really have much choice. I don't keep my mind when I change and the wolf I become is very aggressive and vicious. All it knows is that it wants to, even has to, bite someone, even if that someone is itself. My arms are the easiest things to reach, so they get the worst of it, Remus explained. He was sat at the foot of the bed with his hands folded in his lap. James was stood at the head, leaning on the bedside table. I remember the werewolf in my old neighbourhood used to lock herself in her house every full moon, he mused aloud, She had iron bars put into the windows and everything. We always used to hear her screaming and howling. Never knew it was because she was biting herself. When I asked how she'd hurt herself one time, she said she'd been careless with her kitchen knife. He winked at Peter.

Remus nodded knowingly. It's a good job we didn't have any neighbours to hear me.

James asked, What did you do before you came here?

Remus traced a wrinkle in the bedclothes with a fingertip. We live on an old farm in rural Yorkshire. It belonged to some second cousin of ours or something. We don't raise livestock or plant crops anymore. Just live in the farmhouse, mostly. Anyway, there's a big barn on the far side of the property. My dad fitted some iron bars to one of the stables and made it into a cage. They locked me in there every full moon.

Sirius uncrossed his arms as if to push off from the wall, but decided against it and simply thrust his hands brusquely into his pockets. And they just left you there in the dark? All by yourself?

It was pretty good arrangement actually, Remus said, shrugging. The barn was far enough away from the farmhouse that they could turn on the radio and not be able to hear me screaming.

Sirius only glared as silence fell over the four, cloaking them in heavy, invisible folds. The quiet was terrible, thick and cloying, like wet wool. Remus felt as though he were being crushed between the choked absence of sound and Sirius's stony gaze. Finally, for the first time since the conversation had been loosed, Peter spoke up.

When you change . . . he began quietly over the rim of his glass which he gripped with white fingers, . . . does it hurt?

The simple, softly spoken inquiry whispered over Remus like frost and he shuddered. He looked down at his bandaged arms, testaments to the particular cross he was doomed to bear. His Muggle father had once told him about religion, church and dogma in the non-magic world. He'd said that some Muggles believed that the monstrosities of the world were the work of a figure of the greatest possible evil who reigned in a fiery chasm of torment. Even now, the bandage Remus had lifted lay open before his eyes, the wound beneath it gaping livid red like a keyhole in the doorway to Hell. It's like being burnt alive from the inside.

The silence fell over them again. Peter shifted uneasily beneath the bedclothes with a near inaudible whisper of fabric on fabric.

So . . . what do you do now? When the full moon's out, I mean, James asked, his voice almost tentative, as though he were afraid to break the silence.

Remus smiled grimly. Meet me in the common room with your cloak at midnight and I'll show you.