It was December first now, and Remus felt awful. "It's not even today," he mumbled into his pillow.

"What's not today?" asked James. Remus jumped. He'd been referring to the full moon, of course, but of course he couldn't tell James that.

"Sorry, James, I didn't know you were awake," he tried, hoping that James wouldn't press the matter... but no such luck.

"What's not today?" James asked again, propping his elbow against his pillow and staring at Remus rather intensely.

Remus blinked blearily and searched through his sleep-deprived, weary brain for a good lie. "Er. My mum. I have to visit her tomorrow, and I'm already worried."

"Oh," said James. "Sorry, mate. Hopefully tonight will get your mind off of things."

"Right." Remus wondered if it was too late to cop out. But no, he needed this. He needed his friends to see him on the "full moon". They'd never suspect after tonight.

"Are you sure you don't want to talk?" asked James. "Sometimes it helps."

"With all due respect, James, how would you know?" said Sirius, who was now also awake. "You have a perfect life."

"I don't want to talk," said Remus. He pulled himself into a sitting position with a slight groan and then went to the lavatory to brush his teeth. "And for the record," he called through the closed lavatory door, "I never will."

That night, Remus was feeling even worse. He stumbled back to the dormitory after classes and felt quite as if he could not breathe. His heart was pounding. His chest was tight. His head was splitting open. In all respects, it felt like the day of the full moon. He wanted to go to sleep and never wake up with all his heart.

James bounded into the dormitory. "Ready, Marauders?"

Sirius grinned. "This Marauder's ready!"

"And this one!" Peter said.

Remus grunted. "Yeah."

Remus' tone did not match the excitement of his friends at all, and Peter shot him a worried look. "Are you okay?" he asked, twiddling his thumbs nervously.

Remus sighed. "Fine. Tired. Stressed. Worried."

"Well, which one?"

"All of them."

"You can't quit now," said Sirius. "You agreed. We're going to find this werewolf!"

"Who do you think it is?" asked Peter.

"Maybe Fortescue?"

"No, they quoted him in the paper," Remus said, trying not to think of a terrified Florean Fortescue listening to his screams of anguish.

"Ollivander?"

Sirius made a face. "I hope not. I bought my wand from him."

"But he didn't attack you," said Remus fairly. "So maybe he's not all bad."

"Yeah, you're right. He can't be a werewolf; he was too nice."

That wasn't what Remus had meant at all, but he couldn't find it in his heart to correct Sirius. "Maybe," said Remus, "it's Madam Puddifoot."

James and Sirius howled with laughter, and Remus automatically felt better.

That night, the Marauders sat on the chilly ground, looking out at the Shrieking Shack. The moon was hanging over it, evidently full. James, Sirius, and Peter were positively quivering with excitement, and Remus was cold. It was freezing outside. And he felt so, so ill. He hoped that this particular full moon wouldn't be worse than all the rest, but it wasn't looking good so far.

"Remus, Peter. You two keep watch. James and I are going to explore Hogsmeade," Sirius ordered, and James threw the Cloak over himself and Sirius.

"Watch really carefully," said James, "and listen. You're good at that, Remus."

Remus nodded. Somehow, he didn't expect to hear anything.

Instead, Remus listened to his friends' voices as they ambled away under the Cloak. "Let's go to Honeydukes, now that Lupin isn't around to tell us off for nicking sweets," Sirius said. Remus felt a twinge of something—guilt, perhaps? Anger? Offense?—but pushed it down. He so wanted to be liked by his friends, but he didn't feel quite up to arguing right now.

"How are you holding up, Pete?" he asked Peter, and Peter beamed.

"This is so exciting, isn't it? We can go wherever we want! We're on a stakeout, looking for a dangerous creature! We're staying up past curfew! This is brilliant, don't you think?"

"I'm not sure," said Remus after a short pause. "Aren't you tired of detention?"

"But it's James Potter and Sirius Black. They're so popular—they've been flocked with admirers all week; haven't you noticed? It'd be stupid to throw away our chance of being their friends. They're so cool! James with his Quidditch knowledge and Sirius with his Pureblood family and the both of them with their magical skills. Remus, don't you think..." Peter trailed off.

"Yes?"

"Don't you think we're lucky? Like, really lucky?" Peter played with the hem of his robes. "You're amazing and all, but you're not... popularity material. And I'm nowhere near their level. The fact that they just... accepted us... is excellent. We're lucky, aren't we? We can't throw that away."

"Peter, you're good at magic..."

"You think so, but no one else does."

"You just learn differently."

"You keep saying that, but it's just another word for stupid!"

"No, it's not! You're just as good as them. It just takes you a bit longer, that's all. I'm the same way, you know. I can't memorize things as quickly as they can. It's not fair to compare yourself with them."

Peter deflated a bit. "It's okay, Remus. I'm okay with being stupid. It's just how I am. I'm thick. That's all there is to it, and you're just going to have to accept that."

Remus wasn't sure what to say. How could he make Peter believe him? Remus didn't even believe that sort of thing about himself. Just about the only one whom Remus fully, unquestioningly believed when he was given a compliment was... Professor Questus.

And why did Remus believe Professor Questus? Because Questus always said something rude, and then followed it up with something kind. And a man who said something that brutally honest wouldn't give out hollow compliments. Besides, Questus acknowledged Remus' concerns instead of dismissing them. He told Remus that they were legitimate and then explained how to overcome them. He led Remus to the correct answer instead of making him feel patronized and thought too highly of. An idea formed, and Remus took a few seconds to work on his wording in his head.

"May I say something harsh?" Remus said quietly, and Peter nodded. "You're slower than they are. You don't memorize things as quickly. You take some time to get things right. You have an awful memory, and you can't even repeat something after me sometimes. But I didn't lie, and it's insulting to insinuate that I did. You are not thick. You are not stupid. You are fantastic at practical application. You're quieter and not as showy, but you know most of the things that they do. You have more confidence than me in a lot of cases, and you understand other people loads more than they do."

"But..." said Peter, but Remus wasn't finished yet.

"There are different types of intelligence. Straight memorization is one type, and you don't have it. But you have other types. And... intelligence isn't all that. This sounds a bit platitudinous, but... kindness is a lot more important, and that's something that they seem to lack. And Peter..." Remus hesitated a little. "Don't tell James or Sirius I said this, but you're my favorite."

And it was true.

James was wonderful. He was the one who woke up in the middle of the night to comfort Remus, who went to Madam Pomfrey about him (even when Remus didn't want him to), who joked with Remus and made Sirius feel better when he was down. He had planned a party for Peter and bought a camera for Sirius. He was outstanding at cheering people up. Yes, Remus was very fond of James.

And Sirius was impatient, sure, but he was also kind in some ways. He made an honest effort, at least. And Sirius knew what it was like to be discriminated against based on blood. And he was hilarious and popular and supported James no matter what, even if it meant sitting outside watching Quidditch games and getting detentions. Remus was very fond of Sirius, too.

But... both of them hexed people for fun. Both of them teased Snape in a very mean-spirited fashion. Both of them said unkind things and weren't always nice to Peter. Remus often felt uncomfortable around James and Sirius. Hadn't they only just insulted Remus when his back was turned? Remus was sort of worried that they would turn on him at any moment—really turn on him—leave him alone and ostracized from his classmates as well as society for no reason. It was irrational, probably, but it was possible. Remus didn't feel all that safe around them; not like he did with Peter.

Peter was quieter; he was follower through-and-through (just like Remus). He would be the supporting character in a book, Remus thought (just like Remus). Never the protagonist, never the antagonist... he was the vanilla ice cream of wizards; the plain peanut-butter sandwich of humanity (just like Remus).

Remus liked vanilla ice cream and peanut-butter sandwiches.

Peter was the underdog, which Remus respected. Peter did not understand people as well as Remus, nor did he understand magic as well as James and Sirius. But he was kind, and he needed help—and Remus liked helping people. Besides, Peter would never do something that made Remus feel uncomfortable when it was just the two of them. Remus really did feel safe and understood around Peter.

And Peter looked up to Remus. He needed Remus' help. Remus was Peter's mentor, and that was something that he had never experienced before; something that he liked very much. Remus had only ever been the youngest in his small family of three, and now he was on even footing with his peers. He'd never been on even footing with anyone before. And Peter looked up to him. It was surreal.

And that's how it was in the Marauders, Remus realized. It was the four of them: the four of them, all the time. But there was a special relationship between James and Sirius that Remus' company could never measure up to, and there was a relationship between Remus and Peter that James and Sirius would never even try to achieve. There was the four of them, but then there was the two of them. Remus and Peter were Tier Two. James and Sirius were Tier One.

Now that Remus thought about it, the playing field was not even... but that's what made it interesting. They were all so different. A Gryffindor among Slytherins, who still had some Slytherin tendencies—that was Sirius. A Gryffindor through-and-through, who was wealthy and pampered—that was James (and sort of Sirius, too). An underdog who often felt that he wasn't worthy of the attention that he was given—that was Peter. And... a werewolf who was somehow accepted by the rest of them, though Remus couldn't think why—that was McGonagall.

Just kidding, that was Remus.

At the sight of Peter's sappy smile, Remus rather felt like bolting again... but he forced himself to sit still. "I am? I'm your favorite?" asked Peter.

"Well, I'm very fond of James and Sirius, of course. I s'pose what I'm trying to say is... if I had to pick one of you to spend a whole day with, it'd be you. Us underdogs have to stick together, you know."

Peter's smile got even more sappy. "Wow, Remus. That's amazing. So it's James and Sirius and then you and me! Wow. Wow."

Remus smiled, too, albeit uncomfortably.

"You're my favorite, too," Peter confessed. "To spend time with, I mean. I like James' and Sirius' reputation and all, but you're much nicer to me."

The smile left Remus' face. What was he doing to Peter? How would Peter feel when he found out? Remus took a deep breath and forced himself to remember Questus' words. What were they again? Ah, yes: Remus would one day be poor and alone and probably homeless, and so he should take whatever scraps of kindness were offered to him while he still could. A bleak thought, to be sure, but it helped.

"Thanks, Peter," Remus said. "Truly, the highest honor one can achieve."

Peter giggled. "To be Remus Lupin's favorite is something that most men only dream about."

"And to be Peter Pettigrew's favorite is a rare joy in the dreary halls of Hogwarts." Remus flopped onto his back and stared at the sky, and Peter imitated him a second later. "I'm really tired," Remus confided. "You think James and Sirius will be angry if I take a nap for a bit?"

"Here, I'll stay awake for you." Peter sat up and set his gaze on the Shrieking Shack in a determined sort of way. "Least I can do after all the schoolwork you've helped me with."

Remus did not want Peter to feel like he owed Remus anything. But the spirit was willing and the flesh was weak: Remus was asleep before he could even explain that helping Peter with his schoolwork was not a favor or a charity, but something that he genuinely enjoyed doing for his friend...

Remus woke up to someone gently shaking him. He instinctively jerked—werewolf?—but the scent of James Potter filled his nostrils and he calmed down considerably. "Hey, James," he mumbled. "What time 'sit?"

James laughed. "Merlin's beard, Remus. You're always so jumpy when we wake you up. It's a little after five am. Sun should be rising in a bit, and then we'll have to be back at the castle."

Remus sat up. Today was the day of the full moon. He'd never slept this long before on the day of the full moon! He always, always woke up before five am.

His muscles ached awfully. He felt ill. He wondered if he was going to vomit. And Madam Pomfrey was expecting him early today, besides. "I have to go," he said quickly, hoping that words spoken at lightning speed would convey urgency. "I have to visit my mum today. I'm expected early."

"But what if the werewolf's coming out now?"

The werewolf has been out for hours, Remus thought dryly. "I didn't hear anything last night. Did you?"

"No, but..."

"So there's no werewolf. Look, James, they're ghosts. I guarantee your dad doesn't know what a werewolf sounds like; most people don't hear one and live to tell the tale. And ghosts frequently meet on the full moon, but not every month—that would explain why we didn't hear any last night. And Dumbledore wouldn't cover up a werewolf. I know he wouldn't. What reason would he have to..."

Remus' brain wobbled perilously inside his head. Everything hurt. James' face went in and out of focus. Remus looked at Peter and Sirius; he had just enough time to make out the worried look on Peter's blurry face before the colorful spots dancing around in the air clouded his vision completely and the weird zebra stripes took over his mind and body and everything was black.

He woke up in the Hospital Wing. "Oh, good, you're awake. How are you feeling?" Madam Pomfrey asked.

"Fine," said Remus, utterly confused, and Madam Pomfrey pointed to a piece of parchment on the wall and a small jar that wasn't there before.

"I'm starting the thing we talked about earlier. Every time you use that word, I'm going to put a bottle cap in this jar. I have hundreds—I keep them all after I finish the last of a potions bottle on a patient. For each cap, I'm going to add five minutes to your infirmary stay."

Remus still wasn't fully awake, but even his half-conscious state didn't like that idea. "What's the piece of parchment for, Madam Pomfrey?"

"I know you quite well, Lupin, and I'm sure that you're going to find loopholes. So every time you do, I'm going to write it on this parchment and ban that word—or phrase—as well."

Remus didn't like the sound of that, either, but there were more pressing matters at hand. "What happened?"

"You fainted. Your friends brought you here."

Remus groaned. He would need more details than that, of course, but he was too weary to comprehend them at the moment. "Give me a few seconds while I wake up."

"Here, I'll give you a Wideye Potion... Ah, I can't. Wolfsbane."

Remus groaned again and tried to wait until the spots cleared from his eyes. Alas, they were not clearing—not one bit. "I still feel like I'm going to faint," he said.

"That's odd. How so?"

"Spots in my eyes. They're... a funny purple color, haha. And I just feel..."

"Lupin? You've been out for three hours. I'm sorry, I need you wake up now so that I can check your vitals."

Remus opened his eyes and sat up, but he realized that he was still dreaming when a disgruntled Doxy started yanking at his hair and James was a Hippogriff and Peter was an owl and Sirius was a Slytherin. That last one was just ridiculous.

Madam Pomfrey—the real one this time, Remus hoped—zapped him in the chest with some sort of spell. "Up, Remus."

Remus sat up for real. "Why do I still feel like I'm going to faint?"

"Don't you dare." Madam Pomfrey pinched his arm.

Remus rolled his eyes. "You're going to have to do better than that. I have a wicked high pain tolerance, as I'm sure you've noticed..."

Madam Pomfrey doused him with a well-placed Aguamenti. "Better?"

"Much." Remus blinked and rubbed his eyes. "This isn't normal. I'm not sure what's wrong."

"You friend Mr. Potter told me that you didn't sleep well last night," said Madam Pomfrey while she took Remus' pulse. "Your heart is racing."

Remus' remembered the morning's events with a jolt. "How did I get back here?"

"You're lucky that your friends are so good with the Levitation charm. Even Conjured a stretcher, which is highly advanced magic. Highly advanced magic. Levitated you here from your dormitory and only bumped you into something three times. They should have fetched me, of course, but Black said that he was panicked and couldn't think properly."

So they had levitated him all the way from Hogsmeade, up the passageway, and to the Hospital Wing... without getting caught? Remus didn't like the idea of being helplessly levitated, but he had to admit that it was impressive.

The purple spots returned, but Remus ignored them. He knew that Madam Pomfrey would not be happy if he fainted again. "Madam Pomfrey will kill me," he told the spots sharply. Madam Pomfrey stopped.

"I have no plans to murder you today, Lupin," she said, clearly confused.

"They're back," he whispered in an attempt to explain himself. "They're all around me. They're everywhere. To the right and left and behind and... cannon to right of them, cannon to left of them, cannon behind them, volleyed and thundered..."

Madam Pomfrey did not seem impressed at Remus' impromptu quotation of Tennyson's "Charge of the Light Brigade", but Remus didn't really care much.

He woke again to voices.

"...Not sure what to do... transfer him to St. Mungo's?"

"...Absolutely not, Poppy..."

"...All right, then... gave him potions and things... can't give him Wideye."

Remus' vision was going blurry again. He crossed his eyes and uncrossed them, but nothing helped.

"I'm awake," Remus declared, opening his eyes. "I'm actually awake this time. No spots."

"About time," said Madam Pomfrey. "This has never happened before?"

"Never."

"Hm. I assume I don't have much to look forward to tomorrow morning, then."

Remus suddenly felt very guilty. "Oh... I'm so sorry. I don't mean to..."

"Don't even start. I'm getting paid for this, remember? Now, how are you feeling?"

"Mostly fine," said Remus, before slapping his forehead in annoyance.

Madam Pomfrey pulled a bottle-cap from her apron and dropped it in the jar. "That's two, which is an extra ten minutes in the Hospital Wing. Tacking a 'mostly' in front of it will not help, young man."

"I'll be okay."

Madam Pomfrey added that to the parchment. "While I'm at it, I'm also adding Apologies of Any Kind. As of right now, they're banned as well. Now. How are you feeling?"

Remus did not have the heart to try to find more loopholes. "I feel awful," he said, tears prickling in his eyes. "I'm fatigued and everything hurts and my head is going to split open and everything is blurry." A tear snaked down his cheek; he swiped it away, frustrated. "And I was so happy this month! I went to a Quidditch game and I talked to Peter and my friends were nice to me! I hardly had any nightmares! Everything was getting better and now tonight is going to be horrible and there's nothing I can do about it!"

"Oh... Oh, Remus, I'm sorry."

"No. Don't pity me. It's annoying." Remus wiped his face again, very embarrassed to be crying. "Please. Madam Pomfrey. I'm fi—" He stopped.

Madam Pomfrey smiled. "You're improving."

"But saying... the word... helps! It's either that or this!" Remus gestured to his puffy eyes.

"You're allowed to say it anywhere but here," said Madam Pomfrey. "But, quite frankly, saying it here makes my job a lot harder. I need to know what's wrong with you in order to help you."

"I'm sorry, but—"

Remus was interrupted by a clinking noise as Madam Pomfrey dropped a cap in the jar. "No apologies of any kind."

This was going to be harder than Remus thought. "What time is it?" he asked in an attempt to change the subject.

"Five-ten."

"Can we go now? Please? It's going to be worse this month."

Madam Pomfrey sighed. "Yes, if it will make you feel better. Go change. Your friend Pettigrew brought your bag and your toad. Your friends all convinced—somehow—that you're only worried about your mum." Remus pulled his transformation robes out of his bag. "Oh, and change in bed today. I don't want you getting up any more than you have to to walk to the building."

"The Shrieking Shack," Remus corrected. "I've been trying to call it that. It's not as if it's changing anytime soon."

Madam Pomfrey looked a bit surprised. "Fine. The Shrieking Shack. But..." She trailed off when she saw Remus' triumphant grin. "What?"

"You said fine," he gloated. Madam Pomfrey dropped another cap into the jar, and the smile left Remus' face. "Hey!"

"You said it, too," she retorted. "And I, unlike you, don't say it compulsively. Now get changed."

"Could you...?"

"I've seen everything, Lupin, believe me. I've been healing you for months. And I want to make sure you don't fall out of bed. I won't be watching; I have potions to prepare."

Remus changed into his transformation robes reluctantly, trying very hard not to fall off the bed. He managed to succeed, and Madam Pomfrey, true to her word, did not look.

She led him down to the Shrieking Shack. Walking proved to be much harder than it had ever been before, even on his first full moon at Hogwarts. He nearly fell multiple times, and Madam Pomfrey was all but carrying him. It was humiliating.

He tried not to stress as he watched the full moon rise in the sky, and he tried very hard not to make any noise... but it proved impossible as he felt his sanity leave him.

It was a good thing that his friends weren't on a werewolf stakeout tonight.

AN: I went on a stakeout with a couple friends once, but we forgot to decide what we were looking for first. We didn't find anything, sure, but we didn't fail because we had no goal to begin with. The moral of the story is: don't set goals and you won't fail. Never mind, that's terrible advice.