Remus re-entered the dormitory, and James immediately pushed him back out. "You forgot the Knock again."

Remus groaned, but knocked anyway. "Better?"

"Why, yes. Please enter, Mr. Lupin." Remus all but collapsed on his bed, completely exhausted from talking with Questus for so long about such sensitive subjects. He didn't know why he was physically exhausted from the detention (they'd only talked), but he very much was. He suspected that it was because he'd been so incredibly tense the whole time. Whatever it was, Remus felt as if he could sleep for a year and a half.

"I'm guessing detention didn't go well, then?" asked Peter.

"It was only lines," said Remus quickly. "But my hand hurts."

"Did you do the Ink-Reversing Charm?" asked Sirius.

"With Questus? Absolutely not," laughed Remus. "He was giving me the death glare the entire time. If looks could kill..."

"If looks could kill, mate, the rest of us would have died countless times at the hands of McGonagall," James quipped. "Looks can't kill. So you should have done it!"

"Next time," said Remus, but he had no intention of it whatsoever.

"Yeah, right. Anyway. I think we should start calling the teachers by their first names tomorrow."

Remus pumped his fist weakly. "Hurrah! You'll all get detentions and I'll have a quiet afternoon in! I'm so excited."

"Shush, you. You know all the teachers' names now, right, Peter?"

Peter nodded. "Er, I think."

"Thanks to Remus," Sirius drawled. "Thank goodness he has the patience for you, Pettigrew."

"I like Peter very much," protested Remus. "It's got nothing to do with patience." Remus turned to Peter. "Quick: what's Dumbledore's full name?"

"Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore," said Peter at warp speed.

"I reckon we're ready, then," said James with an almost feral smile. "Ready to make some mischief, Marauders?"

Herbology was first, and Professor Sprout, predictably, did not enjoy being called "Pomona".

"Oi, Pomona, mate! How are you?" called a very boisterous Sirius as they walked into class.

"My name is Professor Sprout," said Sprout.

James winked at her. "Got it, Pomona."

"Five points from Gryffindor if you say that one more time," said Sprout.

"If you say so, Pomona," said James, and Sprout made good on her promise.

Transfiguration wasn't much better. James waited until about halfway through class to make his move. "Does anyone have any questions?" McGonagall asked, and James raised his hand.

"Er, yeah, Minerva, I actually do."

McGonagall stopped. "What did you just call me, Potter?"

"Minerva. You know. Your name."

"It's Professor McGonagall to you."

"Alright-y, Minerva. I'll keep that in mind. Anyway, I was wondering when we're going to work on conjuring spells..."

"Detention, Potter."

Charms went rather well, actually. Peter took the initiative, squeaking out a "thank you, Filius," when Flitwick corrected his posture. Flitwick looked at him like he was mad.

"Did you just call me 'Filius'?"

"I think he did, Filius," Sirius cut in.

"Ten points from Gryffindor."

"Come on, Filius, mate," said James. "I thought you were our friend."

"What a traitor," Sirius agreed. "Filius the traitor."

"Detention. All three of you."

"It's a date, Filius," said James, and Sirius roared with laughter. Remus didn't think it was that funny, but he liked seeing his friends happy.

As a result, Remus had a lovely solitary evening that was spent reading, writing a letter to his father, and playing with Bufo.

Sometimes it was nice to have trouble-making friends.

The next day arrived, unfortunately, and Remus dreaded Defense Against the Dark Arts. He wasn't sure whether this was the class on werewolves (though Questus had seemed excited enough about it that he reckoned it probably was), but he very much did not want to face Questus again after all the information that Questus knew about him.

Although, Remus reasoned with a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach, Questus probably knew much more about Remus' anatomy than he let on. Remus had walked through the Dark creature section in the library the day prior (for the hundredth time; he just couldn't help himself), and had found far too many books on the likes of him. He didn't even want to know how many Questus had read. How much all the staff had read. Remus tried not to think about it.

He walked into the class with the other Marauders (who were still laughing about their antics in detention the day before) and read the writing on the blackboard. Treating Werewolf Bites. Remus wanted to smother himself with his Gryffindor scarf.

"Sit, you four," said Questus sharply, and the Marauders scrambled into their seats. Evans gave Remus a curt nod as he started to set up his supplies. Remus never would have admitted it, but being referred to as "you four" gave him a very fuzzy and happy feeling. He was part of a group! Remus had never been part of a group. "You're late," Questus pointed out, and the warm and fuzzy feeling disappeared.

"Encountered an Acromantula in the corridor," said James lightly. "Don't worry. We managed to tame it; but only after Sirius got a nasty bite."

"Somehow I highly doubt that, and not just because Black is entirely unscathed. Lupin? You're the most responsible of the bunch. Why, exactly, are you late?"

"It wasn't an Acromantula," said Remus, and James called him a traitor under his breath. Remus ignored him. "That's absolutely ridiculous and I have no idea how James came up with it. It was a Swedish Shortsnout and a particularly disagreeable Doxy." Remus was drunk on camaraderie again.

"Not you, too," said Questus, as the class started giggling. "I'll take off four points—one for each of you. Now. It's funny you should mention Black being bitten by a Dark and dangerous creature, because Dark and dangerous creature bites are exactly what we are going to be discussing today. If you all would open to page three-hundred-ninety-four—I put third-year textbooks in your desks—there's a color photograph of the subject matter."

Remus opened his book and came face-to-face with a werewolf. He tried to still the beating of his heart and examine it with academic curiosity. It was large and furry. Remus could have told anyone that much. He had seen pictures of werewolves before, of course, in some of the books that he had read (though photos were rare, seeing as hardly anyone was stupid enough to stick around and take a picture). Remus' father's Boggart was a werewolf, too, so Remus had seen plenty of them from an outside perspective. But it still shocked him every time—long, crooked fangs, jagged claws the size of Remus' finger, huge beyond belief, matted fur, yellow eyes, drool dripping from its jaws... Remus cringed and tore his gaze from the photograph. It was hard to believe that he was going to look just like that in a few weeks.

"Werewolves," Questus continued, "will be taught more thoroughly in your third year. However, treating a bite is frequently taught in first year, seeing as it could potentially happen to anyone—no matter his or her age. This is even more important now, given recent exploits of one Fenrir Greyback and his targeted attacks on children." Remus cringed. "I want to give you a bit of background information on the subject—knowing what you are dealing with will be very important in the upcoming war, and werewolves could become a significant threat on the opposing side."

Remus, who was still stuck on the phrase Fenrir Greyback, was finding it increasingly difficult to pay attention. No matter. He didn't need to; he already knew this. He had taught it to Questus, for goodness' sake.

Suddenly, Questus' gaze—which normally scanned the classroom quite evenly—snapped to Remus. Questus flicked his eyebrows upward and then looked at the opposite side of the room so as not to create suspicion. "I expect you all to pay attention," he said, and Remus repented immediately. He would pay attention. He could. He was a Gryffindor, after all.

"Werewolves are a disputed subject for many reasons," said Questus. "Currently, they are considered neither Beings nor Beasts, but I expect the classification to change now that werewolf attacks are going up in number. It gets changed every ten to fifteen years or so; the Ministry can't seem to make up its mind. Some, like Emerett Picardy, say that werewolves abandoned their moral sense when they were bitten. They say that werewolves are simply masquerading as humans, drawing people close to them and pretending to be their friends, and then, when the time is right, attacking them or their children."

Remus tapped his finger nervously on his desk. He really did hate hearing those words come out of his favorite teacher's mouth.

Favorite teacher? Remus had never considered Questus to be his favorite teacher before, even in his thoughts. Was he really?

Remus thought it over.

Yes, he was, but Remus didn't know why.

"Another view professes that werewolves have human emotions and moral senses during the day and twenty-nine nights a month. It claims that they only lose human morals one night a month—and not by choice. You may choose whichever you would like to believe, but please know that there's substantial evidence for both sides of the argument."

Remus wondered what substantial evidence existed for the other side, and then remembered Greyback. He swallowed hard in an effort to prevent himself from vomiting.

"Hey, John, I have a question," said James, waving his hand in the air haphazardly and accidentally smacking Sirius in the cheek.

"Yes, Potter?" Questus, to Remus' surprise, did not even react to being called by his first name. A clever thing to do, since James was only looking for attention. Remus smiled slightly. James looked confused, but barreled on anyway.

"Have you ever met a werewolf, John? You said you were an Auror before, so..."

"I have. Many of them, in fact, in both forms."

"So, John... what were they like, then?"

Questus still didn't react. "Some were quite normal. Some were downright horrible. Some locked themselves up on the night of the full moon to avoid hurting others and some executed premeditated attacks." He paused and let the class consider. Remus stole a glance at Evans, whose eyebrows were slightly furrowed. He remembered her previous comment from weeks and weeks ago. Silly. Werewolves are dangerous all the time... He wondered if she would change her mind.

"Anyway. I think that's enough background info—until third year, at least. All you need to know is that werewolves look just like us every night of the month but one. In order to avoid werewolf attacks, keep your doors locked firmly and don't go on midnight walks on a full moon. Always check the lunar charts before you go out at night, and keep your wand on you at all times. A Killing Curse will not work on a transformed werewolf, although it is legal since werewolves are not considered humans. Most other magic, however, is fair game—but it does take a bit more power. I'd recommend a strong curse. Usually worked for me. I didn't get put on werewolf assignments often when I was an Auror, but again, werewolf attacks are on the rise. And, for this reason, we are going to discuss what you should do should you ever be attacked yourselves."

Questus went on to explain powdered silver and Dittany and how to properly clean a werewolf wound, and Remus noted that he sometimes nearly quoted Remus directly, which made Remus feel a little odd. Remus focused on keeping his expression neutral. It was stressful, and he couldn't help wondering if he looked too knowing... or too ignorant... or too interested... or not interested enough... Why was it so difficult to just look normal? Questus was good at this: he didn't look at Remus too much, but he didn't avoid his gaze either. Why didn't Remus have these skills?

"However," Questus finished, erasing the blackboard (manually, without magic), "some prefer to die rather than be saved after a werewolf attack. Anyone know why that is? Evans?"

"Because they don't want to lose their morals?"

"True. Also, the life of a werewolf is a difficult one—morals or no morals. Discrimination, painful transformations, and all that. I'm curious: how many of you would choose to live on as a werewolf? Raise your hands."

Remus panicked. He looked around the room and saw that about half the hands were raised, so he figured that he wouldn't stand out too much if he kept his down. He didn't want to make any sort of movement that might call attention to himself.

Questus surveyed the room. His eyes lingered a bit on Remus, but not uncomfortably so. "Ah. Interesting. I notice that Black, Potter, and Pettigrew would. Why is that?"

"My enemies would fear me," said Sirius.

"'Cos it's cool," said James. "Don't you think, John?"

"If they're werewolves, then I want to be one too," said Pettigrew.

Remus smiled at their non-murderous views towards werewolves. If they were to discover his secret... well, maybe they'd let him leave quietly after all.

"Lupin. I hardly see you without their presence. Why, pray tell, would you choose the opposite?"

Remus jumped. He didn't want to be put on the spot like that. Why would Questus do that to him? His defense mechanism kicked in. "Professor, I'm going to assume that they were bitten first, since I'm not stupid enough to be the first one to be bitten by a werewolf," Remus said, and Questus covered his mouth, presumably to hide a smile (though Remus couldn't really tell). "And I don't want to live in a world in which those three are werewolves." He turned to Peter. "But I do want Peter to avenge my death."

"Who shall I kill, then?" asked Peter, trying to deadpan but failing miserably.

"James," said Remus. "He'd be the one to drag me into this mess."

"If you kill James, then I'm killing you," said Sirius to Peter in a very threatening sort of manner, and Peter jumped slightly.

"If I'm still alive at this point," cut in Remus, "then I'll avenge Peter and kill you."

"I'll become a werewolf hunter and kill all three of you," said Evans suddenly, and then the class descended into chaos.

"Quiet, quiet!" said Questus, and the class was quiet. "Thank you for your insight, Lupin, though I'd prefer it if you didn't make comments like that in my classroom. There will be no killing of people in Defense Against the Dark Arts. Please save that for after class."

"Yes, sir," said Remus, holding back a giggle.

"Now, I want one foot of parchment on the best way to avoid being bitten by a werewolf—and what to do if you are. Due next class. It shouldn't be hard; you're just regurgitating what I said in class. Even trolls can do that..."

As Remus was leaving class, Questus inconspicuously slipped him a note; he somehow managed to do so without the other Marauders noticing. This was a welcome alternative, Remus thought, to keeping him after class. The frequency with which Remus' teachers did that was bound to be noticed at some point.

Lupin: I know that you didn't want to be put on the spot, but I don't really care. Just thought that you could use some loosening up. Not as bad as I thought you'd be, though you still have a long ways to go.

Scribbled on the back in hasty handwriting was another note: Watch out for Swedish Shortsnouts and particularly disgruntled Doxies.

Remus smiled. He liked Professor Questus.

"I can't believe that John didn't mind me calling him by his first name," complained James.

"Isn't that a good thing?" Remus asked. "You got to do what you wanted without any serious repercussions."

Sirius and James swiveled their heads to stare at him at exactly the same time. "First off," Sirius lectured, "eleven-year-olds do not use the word 'repercussions'. That sounds like a word my mum would use in that horrible Banshee voice of hers."

"Secondly," said James. "We didn't want to call John by his first name. I could care less."

"I couldn't care less," Remus corrected.

"Exactly, and neither could we. What we wanted to do was make a scene!"

"We're troublemakers!" said Sirius.

"Fun-loving maniacs!" said James.

"Marauders!" summarized Peter, and James gave him a high-five.

"I see. Well. You trouble-making, fun-loving maniacs have a detention tonight, and this rule-abiding Marauder gets another quiet evening in!" Remus grinned. "Have fun in detention."

"It's really not that bad," said James. "Sirius and Peter and I have fun, sometimes—when the teachers aren't bright enough to split us up."

"I can guarantee you that McGonagall is indeed bright enough," said Remus as the Marauders arrived at Astronomy class and took their places.

"Hi, Leo," said Peter, and Sidus gave Remus an odd look.

"Is that why you asked me for my first name, Lupin?"

Remus shrugged. "I told you, Professor Sidus: they were curious. I didn't tell them to do that."

"Well. I'll ask you, Pettigrew, to avoid using my first name."

"Righty-o, Leo!" said Sirius.

"Ten points from Gryffindor."

Remus marveled at the fact that the other Gryffindor students still admired James and Sirius, even though they had lost so many points for their House. It was one of the great mysteries of the world, he supposed.

The whole school was buzzing about the Marauders at supper that evening. Remus heard snippets of conversation from every House and year, and the other Marauders managed to hear plenty as well—even without werewolf hearing.

"I heard Questus and Binns didn't care at all..."

"I could never do that; I'm not brave enough..."

"I heard the short one joined in, too..."

"What about the one with the brown hair?"

"I don't know, but he was pretty funny in Defense Against the Dark Arts..."

Remus beamed. "Did you hear that?" he whispered to Peter.

"No, hear what?"

"Someone thinks I was funny in Defense."

"You are funny. Wasn't that what you were trying to do? Be funny?"

"I guess. I'm just surprised it worked, that's all." The truth was, quips like that made Remus feel more comfortable; they made him feel at home. His parents were always saying things like that (although their jokes did not pertain to werewolves), and Remus often slipped into a joking mood when he was uncomfortable. He'd never thought that other people weren't funny. He'd thought that it was just something that everybody could do, and he was now finding that some people found it very hard to be funny—which made him feel very talented indeed.

James and Sirius were absolutely flocked with admirers. James was running his hand through his hair with a smug look on his face, and Sirius was positively glowing. A few stray admirers found their way to Peter, and Remus had never seen him smile so much.

A couple of Hufflepuffs started walking towards Remus, and it was then that Remus realized something.

He had made a horrible mistake.

He was supposed to stay under the radar. He wasn't supposed to call attention to himself. The more popular he became, the more likely people were to pay attention to him—to watch him—to become curious about his injuries and disappearances—to find out where he went on the full moons!

"Are you Remus Lupin?" asked one of the Hufflepuffs. "Heard about what your friends did in Defense. Absolutely brilliant. I'm Carla..."

Remus interrupted her rather rudely. "It's nice to meet you, but I can't talk right now. Have to revise for the Defense test. Have a nice day." He all but ran out of the Great Hall and made a beeline for a dark corner somewhere.

He did hope that Madam Pomfrey, who had been sitting at the staff table, had not noticed that he was skipping supper.

"What was that, mate?" asked James as he was changing into his pajamas that night. Remus didn't want to have to escape to the lavatory, so he decided to sleep in his regular clothes that night. "That Hufflepuff wanted to talk to you! You could be popular!"

"I told you," said Remus as calmly as possible. "I am not interested in being popular."

"You should prob'ly stop hanging with us, then," said Sirius, "because we plan on being as popular as possible. And if you didn't want people to notice you, then what was that in Defense? It was hilarious."

"It's a defense mechanism. Humor. My parents joke around all the time."

"I don't understand, Remus!" James sounded more exasperated by the second. "You were amazing! You started a scene! You got John Questus to make a joke! He almost never jokes! You could be as popular as Sirius and I if you stopped reading all the time and loosened up a little!"

"Sirius and me," corrected Remus, not knowing what else to say.

"Are you sure?" said Peter. "I thought it was Sirius and I."

"No, it's only Sirius and I if they're the subject of the sentence, but it's Sirius and me if they're the object..."

James rolled his eyes. "Would you stop stalling already! Just let yourself be popular and talk to people!"

"No," said Remus. "The more people that notice me, the more people that ask me questions. And you know I don't like to tell people about my mum. It's a sensitive subject."

Bringing up his ill mum was a surefire way to get his friends off his case. Just like always, James looked like he was trying to sympathize, but he obviously didn't understand. There was a silence as James, Peter, and Sirius finished putting on their pajamas.

"So how was detention?" asked Remus, trying to change the subject before James came up with a retort.

It worked. The next half-hour was spent in a frenzied explanation of how brilliant Sirius, James, and Peter were in their attempts to thwart the professors. Remus listened passively, wondering how on earth he was going to get himself out of the mess that was popularity.

AN: Speaking of humor—Jerome K. Jerome once famously wrote: "That's my luck again. When I make serious observations people chuckle; when I attempt a joke nobody sees it." I relate heavily.