Disclaimer: I own nothing. Nada. Zip, zilch, zero.

A/N: I have a confession to make. I've been horribly lazy with my writing – and it's summer holidays, so there's not even a good excuse. This is the first HP fic I've posted in ages. I should be working on chapter 4 of "Before Broken Friendships", but I've got mind numbing writer's block – I'm stuck, completely. Soo – to pacify you all, sink your teeth into this little one shot. It can be read as a prequel to "Behind Closed Doors" and that series, or by itself. Whatever the case, enjoy!

Lost And Found

By: Moonlit Seductress

The tall, skinny man dropped the ratty old bag and tattered trunk onto the platform with a perfunctory plop. "We'll be back at the end of the year," he said brusquely, glaring with piercing eyes at his pale young son. "For Merlin's sake, try and stay out of trouble."

"Let's go, Christopher," the small woman urged, tugging on her husband's sleeve. She avoided her child's hopeful face, refusing to look at him. "Let's go," she repeated. Her husband followed, leaving the slender adolescent alone on the empty platform.

A train roared by, causing the boy's tawny hair to whip in the breeze. He screwed up his amber eyes against the rush of air and dust, throwing one small arm in front of his face as a buffer. After a few minutes, the train was gone, and the boy was seated on a cold bench, arms wrapped around his knees as he stared around at the deserted station. It was only seven in the morning, and while the rest of the place bustled with people and noise, he was alone at this particular platform. The train was not due for another four hours.

Then again, he was lucky to have even gotten a ride here. His parents had deposited him on their way to work, and it had taken a substantial amount of begging to get them to do even that. He would simply have to sit it out here, and pray that the time passed quickly.

To occupy himself, he reached into his decrepit old bag and pulled out the letter, scanning the beautifully scripted emerald words again. He still could not believe it.

Dear Mr. Lupin,

We are pleased to inform you that you have a place at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment.

Term begins on 1 September. We await your owl no later than 31 July.

Yours sincerely,

Minerva McGonagall

Deputy Headmistress

He was actually going to Hogwarts! His parents and Dumbledore has met and spoken about his condition earlier that week, but he did not know anything yet. It would be explained to him when he arrived.

Still, even talk of the precautions they would have to take could not shake him from his excited state. To be sure, his cauldron, robes, and the majority of his books had been his father's, but he had his own wand. Twelve and a half inches, made of cherry, and containing a dragon heartstring. His aunt had taken him down to Ollivander's and bought it for him, after learning that his parents were planning on giving him a wand they had found in the attic. "Heaven only knows where it's been, and what horrible spells it's performed," she'd cried. "His first wand should be one that is made just for him!" She'd then snapped the wand in half, tossed into the rubbish bin, and whisked him off to Diagon Alley.

And now, here he sat, on a frigid bench on the desolate Platform 9¾, waiting for the Hogwarts Express to take him to his new life.

It had been three hours, and there were signs of life emerging all around him. A few families had popped into existence through the ticket box, while some others, who looked much older, simply appeared out of nowhere. He watched silently, an unseen figure still curled on the bench. A group of about six people, all with flaming red hair, walked past him, all arguing loudly. He spotted a couple of them that looked school age, and he wondered if he would see any of them around at Hogwarts.

Voices quite close to him drew his attention. Just a few feet to his left, there was a pair, bickering at full volume. The girl, who was rather taller, had her hands on her hips, her dark eyes flashing menacingly as she shouted at the boy, who had his arms crossed over his chest, glaring defiantly. She would have been quite good looking – with her full lips and shining hair – if her face hadn't been twisted in annoyance.

The boy stood firm, chin raised rebelliously. "I don't want to sit with you and your damn gang of snobs, Bellatrix," he snapped. His face was not visible, but his body language clearly spoke of his contempt and disgust. "But Mother told me that your mother wanted you to stay with us. She wants you to stay away from the rabble – especially that horrible Potter boy," the girl, obviously named Bellatrix, returned. The boy threw his hands into the air, gesturing furiously. "Just leave me the hell alone!" he shouted. He swiveled, and with a whirl of longish, dark hair and a flash of icy blue eyes, he was gone, leaving the girl to storm away in the opposite direction.

Suddenly, the amber-eyed boy's view was obstructed by a body. Staring up at the other, he found a warm hazel gaze shining down on him. "Hullo," came a friendly voice. "Wotcha doin' here all alone? What's your name?"

The speaker was a tall boy, with a mop of wild black hair, wire rimmed glasses framing the grinning hazel eyes, and a mischievous grin. "Remus Lupin," the smaller youth replied, flushing slightly.

The boy stuck out his hand, which Remus accepted hesitantly. Most people he met avoided touching him, afraid that his condition was contagious. But this boy doesn't know about that, he reminded himself. Maybe that's how I'll make friends.

"I'm James Potter," the other continued. "You a first year too?" Remus nodded. "Exciting, isn't it. I was bouncing off the walls when I got my letter." He scanned the quickly forming crowd before turning back to Remus. "Where're your parents?" he asked. Remus flushed again.

"They, uh, had some errands to run..." He did not want to admit that his parents had left him here four hours ago without so much as a goodbye. "Right," James said distractedly, once again looking out over the heads of the multitude. With a shout, he fought his way through a sea of people, enthusiastically greeting another student. Remus recognized him as the boy he'd seen arguing with his relative, just before he'd met James.

With a jolt, he realized that James had disappeared with his friend, leaving him alone again. He sighed. "Bye, then," he said, to no one in particular.

A shrill whistle sounded, and Remus looked up to see a scarlet engine puffing along the tracks. Grabbing his bag, he slipped through the swarm of people and onto the train.

He arrived, puffing slightly, at the last compartment. Mercifully, it was empty, and he sank onto a seat with a grateful sigh, resting his head against the window and closing his eyes.

"...that was a great hex, you'll have to teach me that one." There were voices in the corridor, growing closer and closer. Remus shrank down in his seat. "Good, this one's empty," a loud voice declared, and three pairs of feet shuffled into the compartment. There was a quiet rush of air as the intruders sat down, but it was muffled by their fast talking voices.

"So, you met anyone from our year yet?" It was the dark haired boy whom James had greeted, back on the platform. Peering through the crack in the seats, Remus could see him, sitting directly opposite, and he couldn't help noticing that he was extremely handsome. His hair was rich and black, and a bit on the long side, a few strands brushing his shoulders. He had frosty blue eyes that sparkled with a roguish light, and his lips were curled into a grin, revealing perfect white teeth. He seemed to exude cockiness and attitude, but his eyes were alight and his smile was magnetic.

"Other than Peter here, not yet." That was James. But what was he talking about? He hadn't met anyone else? And who was Peter? "Oh, wait, yes I did," James exclaimed. "I forgot. Really bizarre kid, kinda scrawny. It was the weirdest thing – it may have just been the light, but I could swear he had gray hair. His name was...Remus, I think."

The object of discussion choked. James had thought him weird? He ran a hand through his gray streaked hair. It wasn't his fault – he'd been tinged with silver strands since he was little. Since he'd first acquired his condition...

"D'you think we'll include him in our club?" That was the last person, obviously the aforementioned Peter. Angling his head, Remus found him. He was a short, pudgy child, with watery blue eyes and limp blonde hair. It was clear that he was tagging along after the other two – the hero worship already in his eyes was testament to that. Why James and the other had chosen to befriend him was beyond Remus's comprehension.

"Our club?" the dark haired boy questioned, one eyebrow arching aristocratically. It was apparent that he did not wish to incorporate Peter into any clubs, and Remus realized that the friendship offered to the blonde was mostly from James. "Since when do we have a club?"

Peter flushed, his skin blotchy. "Well, I dunno, I was thinking..." He trailed off. James frowned. "What Sirius is trying to say," he said kindly, elbowing his companion sharply, "is that we don't know if we'll all be in the same house."

The brunette – or Sirius, rather – huffed loudly and crossed his arms over his chest. "Thanks, James," he said sourly, fixing his gaze on the scenery rushing past. "Sorry, mate," James apologized, trying to smooth down his hair with one hand. "But listen, maybe things will be different, and you won't end up in Slytherin."

Sirius snorted. "Yeah. And maybe a cow will jump over the moon, and maybe your hair will lie flat – " he ignored the squawk of protest, "- and maybe my mum will pop on a halo and float up to heaven." The last suggestion was dripping with venom.

"I wonder what house I'll be in," Peter chirped, oblivious to the fact that this seemed to be a sensitive topic. "Maybe Hufflepuff." James laughed. "Well, I want to be in Gryffindor. That's the best one." He glanced at his friend. "How about you, Siri?"

"I wish I wasn't going," Sirius replied sullenly. James stared. "You'd rather stay at home with your family? Your mom and your dad and your brother and – "

"All right, I get it, shut up already," the other snapped. "I take it back. I'd rather be in Slytherin for seven years than back at 12 Grimmauld Place for seven minutes."

"Even with Malfoy and Snape and Bellatrix?"

"Yup."

Just then, the compartment door slid open, and a girl poked her dark red head in. "Has anyone seen a toad?" she asked, her bright green eyes scanning the floor. "Frank's lost his." She tugged a blushing, forlorn looking boy in after her. "Sorry, but no," James replied, glancing at the girl appraisingly. She shot him a look that spelled certain death, then turned on her heel, her red hair whirling out behind her. "She loves me," James bragged, a cocky air about him. From the corridor, a voice shouted, "Drop dead, James Potter!"

Sirius burst out laughing. "She sure does, mate," he choked between sniggers.

"Who was that?" Peter asked. James looked at him. "Her name's – oh, shut up, Sirius!" he shouted at the still laughing boy. "Her name's Lily Evans," he continued, aiming a kick at Sirius, who dodged easily. "And she's got a huge crush on me."

"She'd like to crush you with something huge," Sirius quipped, again evading the kick in his direction. "Like a rock."

"Oh, piss off. What d'you know?"

"Enough to see that she hates your guts!" They continued in this vein for sometime, pausing only as the train slowly slid to a halt. Sirius leapt off the floor, where James had thrown him only seconds earlier, and pressed his nose against the window. "Are we there?"

"Remus Lupin?" A hand came down to clamp on his shoulder, and Remus found himself staring up at a tall, austere woman. He nodded. "Please follow me," she said, leading him away from the rest of the first years, and into a carriage. Remus cringed when he saw the horse pulling it – it was black and skeletal, with blank eye sockets.

"My name is Professor McGonagall," the woman said as he followed her up the stone steps of the huge castle. "You'll be needing to speak with the Headmaster about your condition." She led the way to an imposing stone gargoyle. "Sugar quill," she said, rolling her eyes. The statue leapt aside, and they moved forward onto a stone staircase. It carried them upwards, stopping in front of a large wooden door. Professor McGonagall knocked three times before opening the door and ushering Remus inside. She pointed to a chair in front of a large desk, then turned and left him quite alone.

He looked around the large room, wondering at the strange spectacles. There were a series of moving portraits. The occupants waved at him, and he waved back, feeling foolish. A small pop made him turn back to the desk, but all he saw was a collection of silver instruments, whirring and spinning. There was a soft rustle, and he looked up to find a bird sitting on a golden perch. But it was no ordinary bird. It was the size of a swan, with scarlet and gold feathers, and he identified it as a phoenix. It opened its golden beak and a single, soaring note filled the room. It was strong and powerful, and Remus felt all his apprehension slip away. He stood and carefully approached the bird, moving slowly as not to frighten it. He extended a hand and gently stroked the smooth feathers of the great bird's wings. It cocked its head, looking at him steadily, and sang again, a lighter, happier note this time. Remus continued to stroke it, and it closed its bright eyes, occasionally emitting another note.

"I see you have met Fawkes." The voice was quiet and gentle, but it seemed to fill the entire room. Remus jumped and the phoenix sang again, calming him. The speaker was a tall man with long white hair and beard. He wore intricately embroidered robes of forest green, and a matching pointed hat. His eyes, from behind half moon glasses, were light blue, and they sparkled with some unknown emotion.

"I'm sorry," Remus gasped out. "I didn't mean to touch anything." The man chuckled. "Don't worry," he said. "If you were not meant to touch Fawkes, you would not have been able to. In fact, I have never seen him so responsive before." The phoenix sang again, as though it knew they were speaking of it. "Please, sit down," the man offered, seating himself behind his desk. Remus sat on the edge of his chair, his hands twisting nervously in his lap.

"Now then, Remus, I am Professor Dumbledore. You know why you are here, do you not?"

Remus nodded. "Yes." Dumbledore smiled. "Good. I know that it must be hard for you, to find yourself in such a situation, but it can be worked around. Every month, you will be escorted to the Whomping Willow." He raised one thin hand and pointed out the window to a large tree. Remus stared. The tree's branches were whipping at high speeds, and it generally looked like it was having a fit. "Under the tree, there is a passage. It will lead you into the village of Hogsmeade, but more specifically, to an abandoned house. The house is protected with wards and spells to keep anyone from entering – or you from leaving. You will be collected in the morning, and taken to the hospital wing, if necessary. Is that to be expected?"

Remus bowed his head. "Usually. I'm...normally in bad shape the morning after." Dumbledore nodded gravely. "Very well. We have an excellent matron, Madam Pomfrey, and she will take good care of you." He steepled his long, thin fingers and stared intently at Remus. "You realize that this must be kept a careful secret. If someone is to find out about your condition, it will likely result in your removal from the school. I believe that we can work with this, and that you will have a wonderful time here at Hogwarts, but I must know that you understand the seriousness of this undertaking."

"Yes sir, I understand." Just like at home. Keep your mouth shut, and keep to yourself.

"Very well, then." Dumbledore rose. "Now, it is time for the Sorting. Come, we must go to the Great Hall."

Now you might think I'm just a hat

Without a brain at all

But I'll tell you where it is you'll go

In the end, it is my call

You could belong in Hufflepuff

Where truth and loyalty

Are the things that you think

May be your specialty

Or maybe it's with Gryffindor

That you'll find your home

Your bravery will follow you

Wherever you might roam

Perhaps it might be Slytherin

Where you will find your kind

You'll need power, wits by any means

And a cunning mind

Or finally, in Ravenclaw

If learning is your strength

Intelligence and aptitude

You have to great extent

So try me on, don't be afraid

I've not been wrong before

And I give my word, my guarantee

I'll keep that perfect score!

The Hat bowed to each of the tables, then grew quite still. The first student stumbled forwards, but Remus's mind was far away...

It returned with a clunk as the name "Black, Sirius" hit his ears. He looked up to see the handsome young man drop the hat over his eyes. After a moment..."GRYFFINDOR!"

Remus could see that Sirius was in shock. His arctic eyes were wide, and his mouth was open. A glance over to the Slytherin table showed the same expression from his relatives. Clearly they, like Sirius, were thinking that he'd be with them in Slytherin. Sirius joined the Gryffindor table to a tumult of cheers and whistles, and Remus zoned out again...

"Lapis, Irene!"

A frightened blonde girl stepped forward, sat on the stool, and Professor McGonagall placed the Sorting Hat on her head. "RAVENCLAW!" it shouted, and the girl tugged it off and ran to join the others at the table second from the left.

"Longbottom, Frank!"

The short, pudgy boy from the train tripped on his way up to the stool, and after the Hat had proclaimed him a Gryffindor, he ran towards the table with it still on his head. He doubled back to hand it to...

"Lupin, Remus!"

Remus swallowed the large lump in his throat as the Hat fell over his eyes. "So, Mr. Lupin, where do I put you?" a small voice asked. It was almost like it was inside his head. Not Slytherin, Remus thought desperately. I'm not a dark creature, I'm not. "Well, I can see that," the Hat said. "Hmm...you're brave. Very, very brave. And you've got quite the mind. Perhaps Ravenclaw...but no, that chivalry definitely puts you...in...GRYFFINDOR!" He heard the Hat shout the last word to the Hall, and he placed it back on the stool before walking quickly to the table on the far left.

He sat at the far end of the table, his hands shaking like mad. How he had made it into Gryffindor, he had no idea, but he wasn't complaining. He watched as four more first years became his housemates, including James and the chubby blonde, Peter Pettigrew. The two joined Sirius, who had conveniently placed himself near Lily Evans, also a new Gryffindor. This caused James to act like a total idiot, disgusting Lily and causing her to storm down to the other end of the table.

She sat down with a huff across from Remus, who tried to make himself invisible. But it must not have worked, because Lily smiled brightly at him. "Hi, I'm Lily," she said. "And I know your name – Remus, right? That's a really cool name; does it have anything to do with the Roman legend? Do you have a brother? If you did, that would be so cool, 'cause you could name him Romulus and then you'd be Remus and Romulus." She said this entire speech in one breath. Remus stared, impressed that someone could talk that long without inhaling once.

"I'm glad you think my name is cool, yes, it does come from the legend, and no, I don't have a brother," Remus replied slowly, amused by this redheaded girl. She beamed at him. "I talk too much, don't I?" He nodded. "I don't mean to be rude, but you do." She laughed, tossing her dark hair. "Oh, that's fine. Everyone tells me that. It must be true." She gazed closely at him, her eyes so intense that it made him blush, and turn away in embarrassment. "Oh, I'm sorry," she said softly. "It's just...you have the most beautiful eyes I've ever seen! They're such a neat colour!"

Remus cringed. He hated his eyes – they were just another reminder of how much had changed because of his condition. His eyes had once been blue – not icy, like Sirius's, or warm and fresh, like Dumbledore's. No, his eyes had been as blue as the ocean – a bright, vivid, almost turquoise blue. But after the "incident", they had slowly bled into the smoky amber they were now. "Wolf's eyes," his mother had deemed them scornfully. She hated them too – hated everything he had become. She hated his hair, darkened from the golden blonde of childhood, and streaked with silver. She hated his pale, clammy skin, when he had been so tan and healthy. She hated the scars that adorned his body, the quiet, reverted child he'd transformed into. But most of all, she hated that he was different. "Why couldn't my baby be normal?" she would scream. "Why does he have to be a freak?!" She turned her back on him, and slowly grew to hate him.

At least, he thought sourly, it was different with my father. At least he hated me from the beginning.

His father had not wanted him – or any other children. It was evident in the way he glared at his son, with anger in his eyes and a scowl on his lips. Every harsh word, every savage blow...it was all a testament to how much he disliked children.

He realized with a jolt that Lily was still gazing at him. He waved a hand in front of her eyes, and she jumped. "Whoops," she said, grinning. "There I go again. I'm such a space cadet." She looked around at the Hall. Everyone was moving, getting ready to retire for the night. He caught sight of James and Sirius – and did a double take.

They were glaring at him, James red with indignation, while Sirius looked as though he had iced over. Lily followed his gaze, and stuck her tongue out at the two boys. Caught, they flushed, and turned away quickly. She laughed. "They're jealous. How ridiculous! Anyways..." She flashed him a smile. "I guess I'll see you tomorrow!"

The redhead waved a quick goodbye before bounding after her girlfriends. He stared at her retreating form with confusion. Had he just made a friend?

Remus opened the door that read First Years, and stepped inside to find his dormates already there. Frank Longbottom was sitting on the bed closest to the door. Peter occupied the next one, and James the middle. Sirius was sprawled out across the next one, leaving the bed closest to the window for Remus. He walked quickly across the room and climbed onto it, relishing the feel of the warmed covers and sheets.

"So." James broke the oppressive silence. "Here we are. Now what?"

In answer to his question, a pillow flew from beside him, catching him in the face with a soft sounding "PLUMP!"

"Pillow fight!" Sirius shouted gleefully, darting towards James and retrieving his makeshift missile. "You're on," James declared, grabbing his own pillow and winding up to hit his attacker. But the force of his backwards fling was too great, and he toppled off the bed with a grunt of surprise, sending the pillow flying through the air to bounce off Frank Longbottom's head. "Oi!" he exclaimed, scooping up the pillow and hurling it at James, who had just stood again. He miscalculated, though, and the fluffy pillow struck Peter in the back of the head.

In mere minutes, there was a great deal of shouting and feathers flying everywhere. All four boys were covered, head to toe, in the white fluff, and were hoarse from their battle cries. Only one remained unscathed. Remus was sitting on the window seat, a book in his hand. He hadn't looked up from the pages throughout the entire skirmish, pausing now and then to flip back and reread something. Feeling slightly malicious, James launched a pillow in his direction, ready to claim that he had misfired.

But the chance never came. The object flew through the air, heading straight for the other boy's head. At the last possible second, Remus lifted his hand, catching it mere inches from his face. Still absorbed in his reading, he flipped the pillow onto the middle bed with deadly accuracy.

Oblivious to the astounded looks of his dormates, Remus closed his book, drew on his pajamas, and crawled into bed, closing the scarlet curtains, as James exchanged a meaningful glance with Sirius. "What was that?" he mouthed. The other boy shrugged, turning his blue gaze onto the enclosed bed.

Inside his crimson cocoon, Remus stared down at his hands. Why do they hate me?

The next morning brought rain and thunder to the castle, and Remus felt a resemblance to nature. He, too, was feeling dark and stormy. Last night's events had sapped his energy, but even so, he hadn't slept well. Tormented by dreams most of the night, he and tossed and turned, waking multiple times and biting back screams.

As he moved down the stone steps to the Common Room, he was suddenly forced to the side as three figures hurtled down the stairs, shouting and laughing. He watched sadly as Sirius chased James, shouting curses and jinxes that most probably never existed, demanding the return of his wand. "Give it back, you slimy git!"

"Enough!" roared Arthur Weasley, the Head Boy. He had bright red hair and an rather easygoing temperament, but he had just had a row with Molly George, his girlfriend, and he was in no mood for nonsense. He grabbed both boys by their ears in one swift motion. "Shut up, you rotters." Cowed, both squirmed away and left the Common Room in silence, Sirius sending death glares after his best friend.

Remus inched down the stairs and followed the blonde Peter out into the hallway and down to breakfast. He sat at the end of the table, removed from the midst of the chatter, and listened to the conversations. James, Sirius, and Peter were discussing Quidditch.

"I hope I get on the team – be good to be a Seeker, wouldn't it?" James asked, flipping his bun into the air and catching it again, while Peter watched in awe. Sirius shrugged. "Dunno. I'd rather be a Beater or something, something with a little more danger." He grinned, and Remus couldn't help noticing the bright sparkle in his frosty blue eyes. Their voices droned on, and sooner than expected, the bell rang to tell them it was time for their first class.

Sitting down in the Transfiguration classroom, Remus watched as his classmates filed in, talking loudly. The austere looking woman from the previous evening, Professor McGonagall, swept in, calling for silence. School had begun.

The first month was over, and it was a quiet Sunday. Remus had intended to spend the free day working on the homework they had gotten. Unfortunately, the noisy chess match taking place in the first year dormitory had ruined his plans. How they could be so loud playing chess, Remus couldn't begin to fathom. He had been forced from the room with withering glances and meaningful coughs, and there had been a smattering of applause when the door had shut behind him.

Restraining the urge to hurl his books in the fireplace, Remus sat at a table in the empty Common Room and began the Potions essay they had been set. He carefully wrote the title, Wolfsbane and Its Uses, and threw down his quill in disgust. Of course he had to write about that. As if there wasn't enough in his life that was horrible.

His relationship with his dormates had reached an all time low. Frustrated with their rudeness, Remus stopped trying to be friendly, and had resulted to ignoring them. They were particularly annoyed with his intelligence. All of his teachers had praised his knowledge and concentration, and the other first years were infuriated about it. Remus had woken on last Wednesday morning to find his Astrology notebook torn to shreds, the few pages that remained whole dripping with huge blots of ink.

He sighed, raking a hand through his silver streaked hair. He wanted nothing more than to be friends with the others. He had never had friends for very long, and those who had stuck around had been out of pity. Now, he had the chance to interact with children of his own age, who had no idea about his condition, and he was still alone.

Not completely, though. Lily Evans often stopped to talk with him, which only intensified James' dislike of him. A fat lot of good that did...

With a groan, he realized the notes he needed for this essay were still upstairs...and Merlin only knew what condition they were in. Sighing, he ran lightly up the stairs and opened the door, only to be confronted with utter chaos.

Sirius and James were perched on his bed, shaking the contents of his bedside table onto the cover. Peter was pawing gleefully through the chocolates that had fallen from the drawers, and there were already many brightly coloured wrappers on the floor around him. Remus growled, pulling out his wand and aiming it at the two brunettes, hissing, "Expelliarmus!"

The drawer shot out of their hands, flying across the room to smash into the stone wall, and fall to the floor. The dull "clunk" of wood hitting carpet was the only sound in the small circular room. Until - "What d'you think you're doing?" Remus snarled, temper getting the best of him as he stalked across the empty space of floor. "What do you think you're doing?!" The wand gripped in his hand shot out a series of green sparks, and Peter winced. But Remus didn't see – his eyes were fixated on the other two, who were staring at him, flickers of regret and guilt and fear crossing their young faces. Not expecting an answer and at a loss for words, Remus gestured angrily. This was a grave mistake, as he found out.

Thinking he was going to attack, both Sirius and James whipped out their wands, each shouting a different hex, and Remus barely managed to put up the Shield Charm they had learned last week. The spells rebounded off the shimmering golden barrier in a shower of blue and purple sparks.

"Why are you touching my things?" Remus demanded again, safe inside his bright shield. But instead of answering, James bolted for the open door, followed closely by Sirius. Remus took off after them, all three clattering down the stairs at full volume. Arthur Weasley stood at the bottom, wand in hand. He shouted something they could not hear – something that made the steps turn into a smooth slide. Three angry adolescents slid to the feet of an equally put out Head Boy.

"20 points from Gryffindor!" he hollered. "I will not tolerate fighting. You are supposed to be mates, and if you're not going to be, then you'd better pretend you are! One more incident, and I'm going straight to McGonagall!" Finished his rant, Arthur turned and stormed away.

Still tangled in a heap with James and Sirius, his Shield Charm dissolved in the melee, Remus cringed. This was the third time he'd been told off for fighting with his dormates. He had never fought with anyone before – at least not physically – but there was something in the others that brought out the worst in his personality. He was irrational. He made stupid decisions that he was certain he would have rethought in other situations, and he acted without thinking in the first place. But I'm not gonna just sit here and take it...

He felt a vicious shove from underneath, and a hissed, "Get off!" He climbed to his feet gracelessly, still glaring at the other boys. "Stay. Out. Of. My. Things," he said slowly, accentuating each word. Then he whirled, climbed the reformed steps, and locked himself in the bathroom.

And so it went. Heated whispers, baleful glances. A foot stuck out around a corner. A muttered hex in the corridor, raucous laughter at the Gryffindor table, a push on the stairs. True to his word, Remus gave as good as he got, and James and Sirius soon found that he knew more hexes and jinxes than the two of them put together.

But he was tiring of this charade, tiring of always having to stay alert and watchful. He wanted to be friends, not enemies. How he wanted to join in with their laughter, not be the cause of it. How he wanted to band together with them, using his curses on those who attacked them as a whole. How he wanted to belong...

It had been a month since that latest clash, and the moon was waxing. This cycle seemed, for some reason, particularly vicious, and Remus could feel himself growing weaker and weaker. One day, he collapsed in the dormitory – in front of the other boys, to his dismay.

"Hey, Lupin, what's wrong with your face?" James snapped unkindly. "It's gray – just like your hair!" He and Peter laughed, elbowing each other, but Sirius huffed at them. "Shut up," he said. "He really doesn't look well." He knelt beside Remus, who was clutching his chest, gasping for breath. "You okay, Lupin?" he asked, somewhat gentler than usual. Remus shook his head. "F-fine," he wheezed. "Just got...bad news from...home, that's all..."

"Bad news?" Sirius repeated, face shining with suspicion. "Yeah," the other boy managed, sitting up shakily. "My mum's in the hospital...she's really sick."

Sirius shook his head sympathetically, and James and Peter looked mildly concerned. "Sorry to hear that," James said awkwardly. He bounded off the bed, motioning to the other two. "C'mon."

Climbing to their feet, they followed him from the dorm. But –

"Black?"

Sirius turned to find Remus on his feet, a shy smile on his young face. "What?"

"Thanks."

Sirius shrugged, then threw the other a slight grin. "S'ok. Hope your mum feels better."

He left, and Remus fairly danced for joy. Maybe things would get better. And for some reason, the warm feeling that Sirius's grin gave him did not disappear for days.

Things did get better. Instead of trading insults in the halls, the boys traded greetings. Remus was slowly drawn into conversations. The battle was waning, and none was more relived and ecstatic than the young werewolf. Finally – after so many years – he was almost feeling like he belonged.

The clincher came one day, half way through the year. After a brutally difficult Transfiguration lesson, the class was ordered to form groups of four and work on the homework together. James and Sirius linked arms, and Peter tagged along. They searched for Frank, but he was already part of another group. James was staring about for Lily, calling out, "Hey Evans! Wanna be my partner?"

"Go play in a blender!" came the reply.

"Woo, guess not, Potter," Sirius teased. "Wait, what's a blender?"

James shrugged. "Well, we still need a fourth person."

"Hey, Lupin! Come be in our group!"

James stared at his best friend. "Him?" he asked dubiously, watching as the slight boy approached rather warily. "Sure," Sirius said lightly. "You know how good he is at stuff like this – bet he already knows how to do it. Hullo." The last word was aimed at Remus, who stood, staring apprehensively. "Okay, let's go. Wingardium Leviosa!"

The feather twitched once, twice – then turned into a large banana. Remus laughed quietly, while James and Peter howled, and Sirius glared at them, turning back to his banana. "Why didn't it work?" he demanded. Remus giggled, then turned the banana back into a feather. "Well, your movements were slightly off – try to swish your wand a little less."

"Remus. Oi, Remus!"

The sixteen year old turned to face Sirius. "What's wrong with you?" the brunette asked, falling to the ground at the other's feet and staring up. "You looked...lost."

Remus smiled. "I'm not lost, Sirius." He stared out the window, then back at his friend. "I'm found."

A/N: Tada! Please review!