The next evening, James, Sirius, and Peter were all in detention again, and Remus had the dormitory to himself. He considered doing his homework during his few brief moments of time alone, but then he realized that he had a much more pressing task at hand. He got out a few pieces of parchment, folded them a couple times, cut three of the edges off, and then used a Permanent Sticking Charm on the folded edge in order to create a small booklet. Then he opened it up to the first page and started writing.

Remus Lupin, son of Muggle Hope Lupin and wizard Lyall Lupin. Hope Lupin has a disease of some sort—none of the Muggle doctors know what it is, nor do the Healers, but it's probably fatal and makes her fall down the stairs. Remus has nightmares about her death and has to visit home often to help and be there for her.

Remus got into a car crash when he was young—crashed into a tree, windshield shattered. Scar on his shoulder. Used to own a dog named Dog; he was a brown mutt. Had to give him away to pay for experimental cures for Hope.

Remus' greatest fear is a crystal ball b/c of Oedipus—fear of the inevitable.

Staying at Hogwarts over Christmas break b/c Lyall wants him to spend at least 1 Christmas there and no one knows if Hope will ever be healthy around Christmas again. She's basically on the brink of death.

Remus stayed home a lot as a kid—afraid to leave the house for fear of Hope dying. Read a lot.

Remus wrote down every other lie that he could remember, and finished the booklet with:

This Remus Lupin is a Marauder and friends with James Potter, Peter Pettigrew, and Sirius. This Remus Lupin is a human who possesses human decency. This Remus Lupin is clever, witty, kind, and a good friend. This Remus Lupin NEVER lies and does not spend hours and hours every month in the Hospital Wing. This Remus Lupin is

Remus didn't know how to finish that thought, so he just put a period after 'is' and closed up the book. He resolved to read it every night before bed in order to remember his lies. He couldn't forget. He couldn't give anything away. He couldn't lose his friends. Not so early—he'd barely started his first year, and going home right now would be downright embarrassing.

He'd have to leave at some point. He knew that, logically, there was no way that he could keep his secret for all seven years. But he also knew that being here—surrounded by people his own age, mostly nice professors, and good medical care—made him happier than he'd ever been. He wanted to hang on to this happiness for as long as possible, even if it meant reading a booklet containing all of his lies before bed every night.

KNOCK-KNOCK-KNOCK!
KNOCK, KNOCK, KNOCK!
KNOCK-KNOCK-KNOCK!

Remus nearly fell out of his chair with surprise as Sirius knocked violently on the dormitory door. "Er, come in, Sirius!" he called, hurriedly flipping the booklet closed.

Sirius threw open the door, and it banged against the wall. Remus winced. "What's that?" asked Sirius. "Homework?"

Remus stuck the book in his pocket as quickly as possible. "Yeah, homework. Where are James and Peter?"

"Still in detention," said Sirius triumphantly. "I beat them. Finished cleaning the trophy case before they finished whatever they're doing. I might have used a bit of magic; don't tell anyone."

"I'll only tell McGonagall, don't worry," Remus deadpanned. "And Dumbledore if he asks. And Questus."

"Oh, you're too kind," laughed Sirius. "Speaking of Questus. Are you two related or something?"

"Related?" asked Remus, genuinely confused. "Why would we be related?"

"I have all sorts of relatives here. It's not that odd, you know. I'm related to nearly every Pureblood family in some way."

"Even James?" asked Remus. Their being related would make a lot of sense.

"Well, yeah, but it's not like we'd ever met or anything. My great-aunt married some distant relative of his, I think. We're barely related at all."

"Oh."

"It doesn't mean anything. Hardly any of my relatives even talk to me, even my first cousin Narcissa Black. It's because I'm a disappointment to the family—they mostly pretend like I don't exist. So I've never met a lot of them. But anyway. Are you related to Questus? He keeps keeping you after class and talking to you privately and giving you knowing looks."

"I don't think I am," said Remus faintly. Sirius was going to find out. Sirius was going to find out that Remus was a werewolf and then he was going to... well, Remus wasn't exactly sure what Sirius was going to do when he found out, but he didn't want to find out anytime soon. Sirius was starting to pick up on things... he had just recognized the teachers' odd treatment towards Remus... perhaps next, it would be the injuries... and then the moon phases... oh, it was over. Remus could see it all slipping out of his hands like sand, and he couldn't for the life of him figure out how to put it back where it was.

"So why are you always staying after class and looking at him weirdly and things?" Sirius asked, clearly unconvinced.

Remus scrambled for a lie. The more he lied, the more he'd have to add to the booklet... but it was, unfortunately, inevitable. "He knew my dad, that's all," said Remus. "And he wants to help my mum. Because she's ill. But he's not helping much, to be honest."

"Well, that's a disappointment," said Sirius with a little sigh. "I'm related to him, I think. There's a Questus on my family tree somewhere down the line. I guess I was hoping that, if you two were related, then you and me are as well."

"Sorry to disappoint you," said Remus. He vaguely wondered how important family trees were to Sirius. "But blood's not important, is it?"

"No," said Sirius. "Obviously."

"Obviously," repeated Remus, thinking of the werewolf blood running through his own veins. "Are you related to Peter, then?"

"Ugh, I hope not," said Sirius, and then his eyes widened. "I mean, blood's not important, of course... But Peter... I mean..."

"You ought to be kinder to him," said Remus. "He likes you, you know. You and James. He only wants to be your friend, and he's brilliant."

"I know, I know. He's just really slow, and it's annoying to wait for him to catch up." Sirius ran his hand through his hair and looked just like James for a second. Now that Remus thought about it, they were all starting to adopt each others' quirks and mannerisms—Peter's smile was a little bit more like James', Sirius sometimes tapped his fingers on his knee like Remus, James had picked up Sirius' tone of voice on certain words, and Sirius was using more and more James-slang as time went on. Spending so much time with each other had certainly taken its toll, and Remus sort of liked the result.

But, even though they had spent so much time around each other—to the point that they had absorbed each others' personalities ever so slightly—Sirius still didn't seem to like Peter all that much.

"I'm not that quick, either," said Remus. "There's nothing wrong with Peter."

"But you've got book-smarts. You study a lot. You can keep up; in fact, sometimes we're the ones keeping up with you."

"Peter's trying his best. And he has a lot more emotional intelligence than you and James. He's kind, and he's good with people."

"Fine, fine." Sirius flopped backwards on his bed. "Don't turn my head into a pumpkin again, Lupin."

"Not planning on it."

"I don't understand how you can tell us off for hexing Slytherins and then turn around and hex me."

"First of all, it's a jinx," said Remus, who was actually feeling very guilty and hypocritical now. "Second, you were asking for it. Third, you knew it was me. Fourth, it was all in good fun."

"We only hex in good fun!" Sirius protested. "We've never hurt anyone! Or used Dark magic. I hate Dark magic, and so does James. We'd never."

"Hexes are Dark magic, Sirius!" Remus felt a panicky feeling in the pit of his stomach as Sirius described how much he hated Remus' kind. Wasn't Remus a Dark creature? Werewolves were Dark magic. Was Remus included in this sentiment? Probably.

Yeah, they were definitely going to murder him slowly and painfully when they found out.

"Not real Dark magic! Look, Remus, I don't want to fight with you. So just drop it and let James and I have fun!"

The panicky feeling got stronger. "I'm sorry!"

"Stop apologizing, it's fine! Forget it!"

Remus forced himself to breathe. In through his nose. Out through his mouth.

In through his nose.

Out through his mouth.

Remus realized that he was being a bit dramatic about the whole thing. He needed to be emotionless. In control. Just like Questus had told him to do. Sirius and Remus weren't really arguing; no, they were just talking. Everything would be fine once Remus broke the awkward silence surrounding the two of them, of course.

"James and me," said Remus softly after a moment's hesitation.

"James and you what?"

Remus breathed a few more times to still the rapid beating of his heart. "I'm correcting your grammar. 'Just drop it and let James and me have fun'."

Sirius smiled and held up his hands in an expression of surrender. "Fine. I will. Now, why don't you help me do my Herbology homework? I didn't listen in class at all; James and me were too busy throwing fertilizer at each other."

"James and I," said Remus, already taking out his Herbology notes. He was kind of surprised that Sirius was actually doing his homework. He seemed to get it done every once in a while, but Remus had never actually seen him do it. He figured that Sirius was just bright enough to do it quickly. "Now you're just doing it on purpose."

"That me am," said Sirius. "You caught I."

Remus rolled his eyes, smiled, and resolved to stop arguing with his friends about hexing Slytherins. It was all in good fun, wasn't it? And they couldn't be stopped, could they? And Remus, werewolf or no, could not bear to lose his only friends. It was a doomed relationship, yes, but even doomed relationships could be enjoyable... couldn't they?

Yes, of course they could.

Knock-KNOCK,
knock-KNOCK-knock,
knock-KNOCK,
knock.

"Hullo, James," said Sirius, and James entered the dormitory.

"Sirius! How'd you get here so fast?" he cried. His hair was mussed, and there were patches of dirt on the knees of his robes.

"I'm just that good," said Sirius.

"Magic," said Remus at the same time.

"Ah, I used magic too," laughed James. "Pettigrew hasn't, though. I think they set him to help clean up after Peeves."

Remus had heard of Peeves, and he had certainly heard Peeves yelling and gallivanting around the castle, but he rarely saw Peeves actually cause any trouble. Ghosts did not have a particular scent or heartbeat, and knowing so little about a person's emotions and whereabouts made Remus feel a little odd. So Remus tried to stay away when he heard Peeves—or any other ghost—come close. Fortunately, Peeves much preferred tricking staff members to students.

"Anyway," said James, "remember how we talked about having an early Christmas party for Sirius? Since he's going home for Christmas to his stupid family? Well, we need to do that soon. And we're going all out! Decorating our dormitory! Stealing food from the Kitchens! A Christmas feast in our dormitory! And decorations! And presents! Oh, this is going to be phenomenal!" James started pacing around the room as he gesticulated, and then accidentally stepped on Remus the Rock. "Oops. Sorry, Remus. Oh, and Remus: just let me know what you want to buy for all of us and I'll let you borrow my money."

"I couldn't possibly," said Remus uncomfortably.

"Nonsense. You too, Sirius. And Peter if he wants. Trust me, my pocket money will cover it. This is so good. So good! We need to plan. Sirius, get some parchment."

Sirius groaned. "James, do we really have to sit down and plan?"

"Yes! Yes, we do!"

And plan they did. Remus felt his smile grow more and more as he imagined the wonderful Christmas party with his friends. His friends. The word still gave him a rush of warmth. He had such good friends. It almost made up for the fact that he wasn't going to see his family this Christmas.

Almost!

James said that it would be suspicious to steal a bunch of food from the Kitchens at once, but Remus thought that he just wanted an excuse to sneak out more often. Whatever the reason, the Marauders snuck out under the Cloak to steal food four separate times, and then they used a Preserving Spell and a Concealment Spell in their dormitory. The smells bothered Remus, but the other Marauders swore that they couldn't smell a thing.

Fortunately, the house-elfs were mollified by Remus' lie that they were serving a detention. They didn't really talk to him much. Remus wondered if they had been told about his condition, since they were technically staff—or if they could sense it somehow, being non-human themselves.

But house-elfs, unlike werewolves, had a Being classification. Remus couldn't say he wasn't jealous.

When a house-elf made a slight squeaking noise as he passed, Remus figured that they did, in fact, know. He felt awful for scaring them. Half of them were tripping over themselves to get away from him. Remus, as a result, stayed very far away from them and was polite as possible. He used a few tactics that he often used around jumpy Registry staff: no sudden movements, mumbling so as not to show his teeth when he talked, looking down and shuffling his shoes a lot. It made him seem a lot less threatening.

"You're acting a little weird, Remus," said Peter, and Remus nearly jumped out of his skin. "All nervous and... small. You're acting small."

"How does one act small?" said Remus with a nervous laugh (still keeping his mouth closed). "You mean I'm acting younger or something? Rich coming from one of you; you three never act your age."

"No, you're acting small," said James. "I see it now, Peter. Look, you're crossing your arms. And you're hiding your hands. And you've barely talked. And your shoulders are drawn up and you're not looking anyone in the eye and your mouth looks like McGonagall when she's angry with us."

"Come to think of it, you act small around certain teachers, too," said Peter thoughtfully. "Sidus. Sprout. McGonagall at first—she was the worst, but not anymore. And sort of Questus, on the first day. Actually, most everybody but Flitwick on the first day."

"It makes you look like you're afraid of something," said James. "Loosen up, mate."

"How much do you lot watch me?" said Remus. He was still laughing, but he was also feeling more panicked by the second. "Look, I just withdraw sometimes when I'm not comfortable. And I'm not... comfortable around Sidus or Sprout."

"Why aren't you comfortable with us?" said Peter, and Remus nearly died from guilt when he heard the sadness in Peter's voice.

"I am! I am, Pete. Maybe I'm just worried that we're going to get caught!"

"We're not going to get caught," Sirius chimed in. "You have, like, superhuman hearing abilities."

Remus flinched. "No, I don't!" he snapped, making a house-elf jump four feet into the air.

Peter furrowed his eyebrows and stared at Remus. There was silence, and Remus could hear his heart beating in his ears. They were going to find out. He had messed up. He had made a mistake and gotten emotional and now he was going to lose his friends...

No! He needed to stop worrying. There was absolutely no cause to do so; not when it made him look even more suspicious. "Can we just... finish?" Remus mumbled. "Please? I'm tired, and my emotions are running a bit haywire. Er... sorry, Pete."

Peter brightened and nodded. "I'm glad you're not angry with me," he said.

"Yeah, I bet Angry Remus would be terrifying," agreed James. "Let's finish up."

Sirius, however, sulked a bit. "I don't want to go back to the dormitory. I want to stay here for a bit. See, the house-elfs don't care that we're out after curfew. They'd never tell; my family could get them sacked. They're terrified of me, dumb things."

Remus considered. Were the house-elfs scared of Sirius and not him? He looked over at the poor creatures; they were much closer to Sirius than Remus, and they kept looking at Remus nervously. No, they were definitely afraid of Remus. But it was good that he had a cover.

"Remus wants to go back," said James fairly. "We can go back now and come back another day. You and I can sneak out again later tonight."

Sirius pouted a bit, but it was obvious that he liked the prospect of having some time with James alone. Remus wondered if they were going to talk about things that Sirius would never dare tell Remus and Peter—his family, his nightmares, or whatever else he talked about with James. He felt envy bubble up, but he pushed it down. He had to control his emotions and instincts. He was not a wolf right now; he was a person. And the less close he was to his friends, the better. It was only for their safety. He shouldn't be selfish. In through his nose. Out through his mouth.

So the Marauders returned to their dormitory, and Remus finally felt almost human again now that a bunch of house-elfs weren't tripping over each other to get away from the Big Bad Wolf. It was nice, even though Remus later had a horrible nightmare of transforming into a wolf and devouring some innocent house-elfs. And James was still out with the Cloak and wasn't even around to tell him that he was only dreaming.

Remus had no idea what he was going to do without his friends when the time finally came to give them up.

But he was going to stop worrying, gosh darn it. He stuffed his pillow over his head in an attempt to curb the stupid anxious thoughts, and they partially subsided.

James sat next to Remus instead of Sirius during History of Magic on Thursday, which was a little odd. As soon as Binns started droning on and on, Remus taking notes dutifully, James poked him in the arm. "Marauder Christmas in four days," he said.

Soap Blizzard of 1378—led to economic collapse, wrote Remus. "Shush," he hissed. "I'm trying to take notes."

"It's all in the textbook!" said James. "Everyone knows that you read that religiously. And you're probably the only one who gets O's in this class."

"Lily Evans."

"Look behind you. She's sleeping." Remus glanced at Evans, who was indeed sleeping: her head was on her hands, her mouth was slightly open, and Snape was sitting beside her. He was smiling a bit, and her arm was on top of his. It looked like an uncomfortable position, but Snape didn't move—probably for fear of waking Evans up. It might have been a sweet picture if Snape weren't the biggest git on earth.

James snarled slightly, reminding Remus a bit of a wolf. He flinched. "That twat," said James, his voice just loud enough for Snape to hear. "If I didn't know better, I'd think he fancied Evans. But no girl will ever like him; he's far too greasy and ugly. He looks like a bat, and he's equally as batty."

Snape recoiled and jerked away from Evans—sure enough, she awoke with a start. "What is it, Sev?" she mumbled, and Snape shot a quick smile at her before whispering "Melifors" and waving his wand under the table.

James' head was suddenly a pumpkin, and the class was in an uproar.

James was making some noises from inside the pumpkin, but they were muffled and Remus couldn't quite make them out, even with his werewolf hearing. He figured that it was probably very colorful language. Binns kept teaching, half-asleep and oblivious to the chaos.

Remus pointed his wand at James' head. "Finite Incantatem," he said softly, and the pumpkin disappeared. It was much cleaner than James' Bombarda had been—the pumpkin, including all of its innards, was completely gone. Remus felt his chest warm up with pride, but it all disappeared as soon as he saw James' face.

"You—awful—horrible—Remus, I need an insult."

Remus didn't respond. He'd thought for a few seconds that James had been talking to him—insulting him—and he was still a little shaken up.

"Come on, Remus!" repeated James. "You know more words than I do!"

Remus shrugged helplessly. He didn't want James to be angry with him. He didn't want Evans to yell at him. Human decency, he reminded himself.

"Do you know any insulting poems, then?" asked James. "You always have a poem."

"Er... Toasted-Cheese."

"What?" James was staring at Remus now incredulously, which was fair. Even Remus didn't know what he was talking about.

"Lewis Carroll's 'Hunting of the Snark'. While, for those who preferred a more forcible word, he had different names from these: his intimate friends called him Candle-Ends, and his enemies Toasted-Cheese."

"Er, Remus...?"

"I know it's stupid. I can't think of anything else."

James wrinkled his nose and used the insult anyway. 'You, Snivellus Snape, are the most Toasted-Cheese to ever cheese. The cheesiest toast to ever toast. I hate you more than words can describe..."

"Please don't disrupt my class, Mr. Pattering," Professor Binns droned, but James paid him no mind.

"Rictusempra!" James suddenly cried, brandishing his wand at Snape, but Snape deflected the spell easily. "Rictusempra!" he said again—this time, it hit Snape, and Snape started giggling until he couldn't breathe—Evans started tapping him on the shoulder but he wasn't responding—Remus didn't know what to do, it was all happening so fast—Sirius laughed in the corner with Peter—and then Snape managed to squeak out the incantation for the Tail-Growing Hex and James sprouted a long, furry tail. Remus tried not to think of tufted tails and moonlight and teeth and claws and fangs. James responded with a very forceful "Expelliarmus!" but Snape cast a shield and then...

"Finite Incantatem!" shouted Evans, and Snape stopped laughing. The room went quiet. She stood up and walked over to James, poking him in the chest with her wand after every word. "You—James—Potter—are—the—worst! I don't know why Severus hexed you but I hope you DIE!" She huffed one last time, crossed her arms over her chest, and left the room.

"Thank you, Miss Evanesco," said Binns; he continued his lesson, totally oblivious to the fact that she was no longer in class.

James fumed silently for the rest of class, a tail still firmly attached to his lower back, and Remus thought of sheep.

AN: If any of you want to know what The Hunting of the Snark is about, I shall do my best to summarize.

First, you have to understand that it was written by the same man who wrote Alice in Wonderland. It falls under the genre of "literary nonsense", which is exactly what it sounds like.

Basically, the poem is about a motley crew of people (and a beaver) united by one purpose: to find a Snark. What are Snarks, you ask? Well, no one knows, but we do know that they taste hollow and crisp, like to sleep in, hate puns, like bathtubs, and are a very diverse species. On the journey to find the fabled Snark, the crew encounter many obstacles. A giant bird, for instance; a difficulty in counting to three; a fever dream about the Snark, a pig, and a very long court case; and finally, the Snark itself. Unfortunately [spoiler alert], the Snark turns out to be a Boojum (whatever that is), and one member of the crew meets an untimely end.

Carroll's poem, upon publication, was met with instant popularity—particularly among those who liked to analyze nonsensical poems. They supposed it to mean many different things (politics, mental illness, desire, etc.), and they wrote Carroll a couple of letters asking for the true meaning of the poem. His response? "I don't know."

I think that my portrayal of Remus Lupin would like that poem a lot :) It's worth a read if you don't mind reading loosely strung-together stanzas of utter nonsense!