Disclaimer: J K Rowling and her various publishers own Harry Potter, and I, alas, am none of them

Rating: T

Summary: Remus tries to cope with his friends' reactions

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Charms was usually one of Remus' best subjects, but he had spent most of last night wandering the castle until he had been too tired to walk in a straight line and he had been sure James, Sirius and Peter would have given up waiting for him and gone to bed. Struggling with tiredness and with yesterday's worries still preying on his mind, Professor Flitwick's voice kept fading into a meaningless buzz while he tried to take notes on Heating and Cooling Charms.

"Are you all right?" He sat with Lily Evans in Charms, a mistake from their first lesson of the year that neither of them saw any reason to correct, as much as Sirius teased him for it. James did not tease; Remus suspected that he was slightly jealous.

"Fine," he replied shortly, feeling a little ashamed with himself. Lily had always been kind to him, and there was no reason for him to start snapping at her because he was having problems with his friends. But he could feel James' eyes boring into the back of his head, and could just imagine the conversation James would have with Lily later.

"Are you sure?" she persisted, taking no offence at his abrupt tone. "You don't look at all well."

"Don't worry about him, Evans," said James in a low voice. "Wrong time of the month." Remus couldn't help himself, he turned in his chair to stare at James in alarm. His friend – former friend, Remus suspected – gave him an evil grin and turned back to a game of hangman he was playing with Sirius. Lily seemed nonplussed – she at least had not yet learned his secret – and Remus forced himself to shrug expansively as if it was just some weird joke of James'. His hands were shaking so badly that his quill dripped ink all over his parchment; he tried to clear it up with an Erasing Charm that should have been simple for him and only succeeded in blurring it further. He dropped his quill onto the desk before he could do any more damage, and sat there shaking. Lily took pity on him and cleared up his notes with a quick wave of her own wand.

"I don't know why you don't just go to the hospital wing," she whispered, "but if you insist on staying here don't worry about taking notes. I'll copy mine for you later." He stammered vague thanks, which she waved away, her attention back on Flitwick. Maybe now that James and Sirius had turned against him he could be Lily's friend? But they would never allow that; they would tell her his terrible secret and then he would be back to square one again. Better to cut himself off from everyone so that when the inevitable summons came from Dumbledore, when he was told that he had to go home and leave Hogwarts and his friends, it would not hurt so much.

Potions was worse. It was his worse subject anyway, even worse than Defence Against the Dark Arts with Professor Salbre breathing down his neck at every opportunity. And there was no concerned Lily in this class; she was over the other side of the classroom with Madeline Pincey and Briony Westburrow. Remus, as usual, was between James and Peter. Peter had never managed to understand that Remus, who was so unfailingly helpful in every other class, had enough of a struggle just keeping up in Potions without tutoring him.

Bad enough were the sneaking, sideways glances he was getting from Sirius and James. Bad enough that Peter stared at him, an expression of great discomfort on his round face, whenever he thought Remus was not looking. Bad enough that his hands were still shaking bad enough to spill ingredients that really ought not to be spilt. Professor Dillywood was much more sympathetic than many others would have been; merely sighing expressively when a potent mixture burnt a hole in the desk and yet another potion went drastically wrong. He repaired the damage to the desk with a single wave of his wand, emptied away the potion, provided Remus and Peter with half of James and Sirius' and asked them to continue from that point.

"Burning the candle at both ends, Lupin?" suggested Professor Dillywood, not unkindly. "Perhaps the class would go easier if you weren't half asleep."

"No need for candles, eh, Loopy?" muttered Sirius when Professor Dillywood had left again. "Moon's plenty bright enough." Remus flinched and another flask dropped from his hand, although this time Peter managed to catch it before it shattered, and only a few drops escaped to sizzle on the desk and the floor.

Remus doubted that the potion they eventually handed in would be any use, unless someone wanted to burn holes in the furniture. But it did at least superficially resemble the potions handed in by James and Sirius and Lily and Madeline, who were the best in this class as they were in almost everything else. They would at least get some marks.

Friday was half day, which meant that after lunch James and Sirius would have a whole afternoon of leisure to torment him. He was not sure which was worse; they seemed to prefer tormenting him to making his secret public knowledge, at least at the moment. The sharp, pointed remarks were becoming almost unbearable, but when they got bored of that – bored of knowing more than everyone else and making him suffer for it – the only course of action open to them was to tell someone. And that was when he would find himself in real trouble.

He was a nervous wreck, but he did not feel sick any more, and after a couple of days with very little food, he practically inhaled his lunch. He barely noticed what he was eating.

"This steak is overdone," remarked Sirius, dissecting it and wrinkling his nose at the plate. "Have you been upsetting the house elves again, James?"

"Don't know what you mean. Anyway, I like them like this; I can't understand how you eat them when they're practically still bleeding. It's probably too well done for Loopy, though. I expect you like your meat raw... sorry, rare, don't you?" Remus blanched and pushed away his plate, suddenly feeling ill again; the memory of the wolf's craving for flesh still far too near.

After lunch they retreated to the common room, but it seemed to Remus that every time he turned around James or Sirius were making pointed comments.

"Oh, I like something I can really get my teeth into..."

"Can I borrow your Astronomy notes, Loopy? The ones on the phases of the moon..."

"You'd have to be howling mad..."

"Stop mooning around..."

Before an hour had passed he was a nervous wreck. When Sirius suggested they go outside, James and Peter agreed instantly, but Remus seized on his chance to get away from their company.

"I still don't feel so great... I don't fancy going into the cold."

"What you need is a fur coat," said Sirius, all wide-eyed innocence. "I bet you don't feel the cold in that."

"No, you stay in, if you don't feel well," said James in apparent sympathy. "Save your energy for tonight; we'll be out in the moonlight with my Cloak." With that parting shot they left, James and Sirius chuckling to themselves. For a few moments Remus sat where he was, staring blankly into the fire. There was no longer any possibility of coincidence; James, Sirius and Peter knew, and they were making him suffer for it even more than he suffered already.

After a year in their company, he understood them well enough to know how it would go. He could not take much more of this, but he would not have to. Give it the rest of today, maybe, and they would have exhausted the amusement this torture could afford them. That would be when his secret spread to the rest of the school, when he was told he could no longer stay here. He would go back home, doomed to a life alone, with no friends, no prospects and nothing to look forward to beyond the next night spent chained in his parent's cellar. And when his parents died? Well, the Ministry had places for werewolves who could not look after themselves.