James was completely furious all throughout the day. Remus could nearly taste the anger radiating off of him. "Ooh, that stupid, horrible, evil, Slytherin..."

"Woah, mate," said Sirius. "Slytherin? That's a bit much." Then he laughed. "Oh, wait. He is one."

"How would you feel if I teased you and Evans about being in love?" said Remus, hoping that he wasn't overstepping his boundaries. "He was angry."

"I know he was angry," said James furiously. "But if you think that being angry gives anyone an excuse to hex someone, your morals are all skewed."

Remus remembered the incident with Sirius and Peter. Remus had hexed Sirius, in exactly the same manner, with exactly the same hex! Skewed morals? First a lack of human decency, and now skewed morals? This was not promising at all. Even the people who didn't know that he was a werewolf stereotyped him.

"Oh, stop looking like I've insulted you," said James. "All I'm saying is that Snape was out of line. Don't you agree?"

Remus nodded, feeling sick to his stomach. Remus had been out of line. James must secretly hate Remus... after all, Remus was guilty of the same thing. "It's never okay to hex someone," he said, more to himself than to James.

James stopped. "Are you trying to teach us a lesson or something?" He turned to face Remus, and Remus cowered a little at the furious look on his friend's (were they still friends?) face. "It's different, what Sirius and I do with the Slytherins. It's very different. We don't have a reason, we aren't targeting anyone in particular. It's for fun. It's all in good fun! We've never hurt anybody, and it's all about intention." Remus' brain was melting of fear, but he managed to note that Sirius had said almost that exact same thing. "Furthermore," James continued, "you have absolutely no right to tell us what we can and can't do. Are you a Prefect? I don't think so. Are you a teacher? Absolutely not. You're only a first-year, like us, and a fair sight less talented. I didn't see you defending me from Snape, now did I? So just. Shut. Up."

James started walking more quickly, probably perfectly aware that Remus, who was slow and often injured (though James didn't know about that last part), could not keep up. Sirius gave Remus a slight apologetic look and ran after James, laughing and talking once he had caught up. Peter fell in step next to Remus, who was shaking.

"You're all small again," said Peter, and Remus tried to make eye contact. He couldn't, so he focused on Peter's tie.

"I'm not small."

"Well, kind of. But I mean you're acting small. Like before. Are you uncomfortable?"

"James just yelled at me," said Remus, trying not to cry. He didn't know why the lump in his throat was so big. He didn't care that much. No, it was just the fact that he'd been shouted at—Remus' parents never really shouted. He wasn't used to being shouted at by someone he cared about. "He shouted," added Remus miserably, as if that would clear it up further. "He's angry, isn't he?"

"He's stressed," said Peter. "He'll come around."

Peter was looking worried now, so Remus forced himself to cheer up and stop acting small. "I'm fine," he said. He dropped his shoulders, forced himself to look Peter in the eye, and then smiled tentatively, showing his teeth. It felt very odd. Peter's eyes widened.

"You've never smiled like that before," he said. "That smile looks super fake. You always smile with a closed mouth. And you cover your mouth with your hand when you're laughing."

"I do?" said Remus faintly. He didn't know that he always did that. He knew that he did it sometimes—after all, showing his teeth in public was never a good thing when people were afraid of him. But he didn't know that he never, ever smiled any other way.

"Yeah, now you look like you're baring your teeth at me or something."

The smile dropped from Remus' face and his face fell. He couldn't escape being wolfish. His parents always told him not to worry, that he was the furthest thing away from a great hulking wolf possible. Remus had stared at himself in the mirror for hours—his small, spindly frame, his pale skin and scarred hands, his hazel eyes, his oversized jumper—trying to look for a shadow of a wolf. He'd never seen it, but Peter did... Oh, now he was stressed and worrying about things that he didn't normally worry about. He needed to stop.

Peter had, evidently, noticed that something had bothered Remus. "I'm sorry, Remus!" he said. "I didn't mean to insult you or anything! It's just... different. You can smile like that if you want."

"No, I don't want to," Remus murmured. "I prefer my normal smile, thanks." He did not want to talk about this. "We have Defense next, right?"

"DAD," corrected Peter, and Remus smiled a little. James had been correcting them all week on the matter. James. He thought of James and felt tears threaten to fall, but he forced himself to think of something else.

"DAD," Remus amended. "What do you think we're learning today?"

"I hope it's nothing scary," said Peter. "I know that James and Sirius aren't scared of anything, but... well, don't tell them... I think that DAD's really... frightening."

"Mine isn't," offered Remus, and Peter gave him a confused look. "Sorry. Joke. You said that DAD's scary, so I said that mine wasn't. My dad, I mean. It wasn't very good; I should have been more clear."

Peter gave a sort of weak laugh after the joke was explained, even though it hadn't been funny. Honestly, Remus had just been scrambling for something to lighten the mood. "You're really funny," Peter said, which was generous. "James thinks so, too. He always laughs at your jokes." Merlin's beard. Could Peter stop talking about James for one second? "And the thing with the toasted-cheese was funny, too. What was the line, again?"

"His intimate friends called him Candle-Ends and his enemies Toasted-Cheese," quoted Remus. He didn't really want to remember the events of History of Magic. James' face. Evans' voice. Snape's expression. The magic, the noise, Evans storming out of the classroom...

"Can I call you Candle-Ends, then?" asked Peter.

"Sure thing, Candle-Ends," he said, and Peter smiled.

At least he still had Peter.

For now.

James was still angry in Defense that day. Evans still wasn't there, and Remus was beginning to get worried. "Do you want to sit next to me, Peter?" Remus asked, a little afraid to sit by himself. He didn't fancy being lonely; he wanted to treasure every moment before James finally stopped being his friend... which was bound to happen, wasn't it? Maybe it already had.

James' voice floated from the back of the room. "Hey, Peter. Me or Lupin? Take your pick."

Remus remembered Peter telling him that he was his favorite. Remus remembered the hours he had spent towards making sure that Peter got good marks. Remus remembered how Peter had offered to keep watch for Remus while he slept... Peter wouldn't truly pick James over Remus, right? It was James-and-Sirius, and then Remus-and-Peter. Remus had to have one person! One friend! At least one, just for one more class. It couldn't be James-and-Sirius-and-Peter, and also Remus. That wasn't fair. Wasn't his life unfair enough?

Peter gave Remus an apologetic look and his shoulder a slight squeeze (the right one, thank goodness). "Sorry, Candle-Ends. Next time, okay? I'm... really sorry..."

"Peter, get over here!"

"I'm sorry, Remus," said Peter again, already hurrying over to James.

Remus smiled and nodded.

He was being selfish. Peter was going to leave him anyway when he found out. Yes, Remus was going to be alone no matter what—why not start early? Peter should have better friends than Remus, whom he was just going to lose anyway. Why would Remus force him to unwittingly be best mates with a monster, only to scramble to find new friends and be scarred for life once he finally found out? Now that was monstrous.

But it was still so unfair.

Remus plopped his bag down beside him and took out some parchment to take notes, his right side feeling empty without Evans there and his chest feeling full—full of sadness and betrayal and guilt and... anger. Remus forced himself to breathe—in through his nose, out through his mouth—and thought of sheep. He liked sheep. He couldn't get angry. He wasn't allowed to get angry. Nope, that was for full moons.

He leaned back in his chair, inconspicuously wiped his eyes, and lost himself in the lesson. Meanwhile, James and Peter and Sirius were whispering in the back of the class the whole time, and Remus heard every single word.

"I think you really hurt his feelings, James. He was really worried," Peter said.

"He should be. It'll serve him right."

"What did he even do?" asked Sirius. "I didn't hear all of it."

"He..." James trailed off. "I guess I was a little harsh on him. But it's only Remus."

"He's super sensitive," said Sirius. "He'll come 'round. He's probably just overreacting again."

"He worries," said Peter, and Remus felt a jolt of gratefulness that Peter, even now, was defending him. "He worries all the time that you lot are going to leave him."

"That's dumb," said James. "Friends are allowed to fight without breaking it off forever. What does he think friendship is, marriage?"

"Even married people fight," said Sirius. "My mum and dad fight."

"Mine, too, sometimes," said James. "I guess I should just talk to him after class." Remus heard ruffling as James ran a hand through his hair. "I was being really petty, wasn't I?"

"A little," admitted Peter quietly.

"But it's kinda hard, isn't it? He's just so sensitive. He really is like a little fragile china doll."

Sirius agreed, and Remus felt a little ill. "He's pretty high-maintenance. It's right tiring, hanging around him. He's nervous and jumpy and sensitive and looks ill half the time. It's horrible of me, I know, but sometimes I like it when he goes home. So that I can have a break."

Remus heard Peter make a small sound of agreement, and his heart nearly tore in two.

"I worry about him, though," said James. "He says his mum's ill, but he's the one who looks ill. His hands are all scratched up. He's all pale. His nightmares are awful, I bet. I just... I get the feeling there's something he's not telling us, sometimes. And I hate worrying about people. Ugh. This is dumb. He's brilliant; I like him—stupid poetry and books and endless revising and all. But it's dumb."

"Agreed, mate," said Sirius.

Remus rather wanted to jump into a lake of fire. Maybe that would get rid of the persistent coldness that was rising up inside his chest.

James tried to approach Remus after class, but Remus could not handle talking to him. He fled—down the corridor and straight to Moaning Myrtle's loo where he knew that no one would ever go. He'd much rather deal with a flirty ghost than James Potter, who thought that he was... sensitive and fragile and tiring and...

And Sirius! Sirius was glad when he went home. Sirius didn't really want him around. Did anyone?

And Peter. Had it all been a lie, the talk that they'd had in front of the Shrieking Shack? If Remus' was Peter's favorite—his best friend!—then why would Peter pick James and Sirius over him?

And why was Remus wasting his time around them? He was just going to have to leave anyway.

Oh, that's right. He was wasting his time because of that one comment that Questus had made at the beginning of the year. He'd said that Remus might as well enjoy it all while he still had it.

But really, what did Questus know? Remus wasn't enjoying this. Not at all. It was stressful and scary and awful. He wasn't sure he liked having friends.

As Remus entered the girls' loo, a familiar scent filled his nostrils and he stopped in his tracks. Evans was in there. Remus felt wet tear tracks on his face and inhaled again. He heard James' boisterous voice down the corridor, coming his way. Either Evans was going to see him crying or James was. Remus didn't want anyone to see him crying—after all, he was eleven years old, basically a grown-up... but it was inevitable.

Evans wasn't his friend, but Remus entered the loo anyway. Perhaps James Potter wasn't his friend, either—Remus didn't know anymore. Nothing was certain anymore—well, except, unfortunately, for the fact that Remus was definitely a werewolf. That wasn't up for debate, no matter how often Remus wished it were.

"Lupin?" said Evans. "That you? Why are you crying?"

She'd been crying, too—her face was splotchy and a deep red color. She was actually very pretty after crying—not an ugly crier like Remus was. Her lips were all red and her eyes were even more of a vibrant green. Remus felt like an idiot standing next to her, which made him cry more. At least he wasn't the only one crying. "I... James... I don't know what to do and I don't have any friends and I... I want to go home, sort of."

"You do have friends!" said Evans. "Here. Sit. I want to hear about your problems; I've been thinking too much of mine."

Remus gulped and sat down next to her. "Where's Myrtle?" he asked.

"Peeves came in and splashed water on her; she got angry and left. Now. What is it?"

Remus swallowed again. "I... I'm ill a lot. Bad immune system. And my mum's ill, too. And I'm sensitive and... fragile... and all that... And I heard James and Sirius and Peter talking and all of them think that I'm too high-maintenance and that I'm tiring! Sirius said... he said that he was sort of happy when I went home to visit Mum. Relieved, he says. Because I'm fragile and annoying and they hate me. Among other things, I'm sure."

Evans put her hand on Remus' left shoulder, and he flinched. Wrong shoulder. "That's awful," she said.

Remus sniffed a bit and wiped his eyes, trying to shrug Evans off in the least obvious way possible. "I'll be okay."

"For what it's worth, I don't think you're fragile and annoying."

Remus hiccoughed. "Well, you're also not my friend."

"I wish I could be. It's just... Severus..."

"You're loyal. Yeah, I know."

"I'm telling you, Lupin: Potter is not a good friend, and neither is Black. Pettigrew seems all right, but not best-mate material. Just be friends with Sev and me; we'll treat you like you deserve..."

"James and Sirius and Peter are brilliant," said Remus, surprising himself. "We only... had a fight. Even married people fight, sometimes. And Peter is definitely best-mate material." Remus suddenly had a thought and smiled. "I suppose that the fact that they think I'm annoying and tiring is good."

Evans scrunched her brows up. "Good? You're mad."

"No, it is. Because if they really think I'm so annoying, but still spend time with me... well, that just makes them better friends." Remus frowned. "Although I don't want to be a bother."

Evans shook her head. "You're too good for them." Now she stood up and dusted off her robes. "Here, I'll wash my face and you can tell me when I look normal. I don't want Sev to know I've been crying; he'll only get even more angry at Potter than he already is. And Severus is sometimes a bit scary when he's angry. Don't tell him I said that."

Remus nodded and watched her splash water on her face. "I'm sorry for calling him names," he said uncomfortably.

"No, you're not. You'd do it again, just to make Potter happy."

"Well... unlike Snape, James has been very kind to me. I'd rather do things to make him happy than do things to make Snape happy. I can't do both, Evans, and this odd not-friends acquaintanceship has put me into a very difficult position. I don't want to disappoint anyone... but sometimes I have to, and I'd rather disappoint my not-friends than my friends."

"It doesn't matter if someone is your friend or not," snapped Evans. "It's like what I said before. Human decency. We're all human, aren't we? Just be kind; it's not that hard."

Remus took a deep breath in through his nose. It didn't help. "Well, you're not being very kind right now," he said.

Evans slammed her hand down on the sink. "You're a git, Remus Lupin."

"Feeling's mutual."

"It wasn't a feeling, it was a fact!"

Evans left in a huff, now that she'd had the last word, and Remus felt sort of awful.

Remus truly, honestly, painfully wanted to go home.

Also, he didn't.

What was wrong with him?

He spent the rest of the day in the library, poring over essays and notes. He wanted to punish himself for his fight with Evans, so he decided to browse the Dark creature section. He removed a book on werewolves that didn't look familiar and flipped through it. And there it was—the full-color photograph—probably the one that Questus had described. Remus only saw it for a second, but a second was enough to glimpse the shifting bones—the horrified, pained expression—the mouth open in a silent scream—the eyes vacant and the fingers curling...

Remus dropped the book, and Madam Pince shushed him loudly. Remus apologized under his breath and returned the book to the shelf. Why did they have something so graphic in the Hogwarts library? Shouldn't that be in the Restricted Section? He removed the book again in a moment of courage and flipped to the page with the photograph, staring at it bravely.

It wasn't that bad, actually. It didn't show the actual transformation, just the moment before—the moment in between transformed and untransformed. The bones were moving a little under the skin, which was freaky, but nothing worse than that. Only the gut-wrenching, pained facial features. It had only seemed worse because Remus knew what came next.

He looked at the caption. A werewolf shedding its human appearance to don its true nature. Remus dropped the book again.

"Out!" hissed Madam Pince, and Remus hurriedly put the book back and obeyed, but the picture stayed inside his mind. It stayed while he packed up his things. It stayed while he walked down the corridor. It stayed while he accidentally collided with James Potter and dropped his bag. Ink went everywhere, and it was only then that the picture disappeared.

"Aha! You were in the library!" said James, not even bothering to apologize. Remus felt anger rise up inside of him, and he froze. In through his nose. Out through his mouth. "I knew it. Expected you to have a sleepover in there, to be honest." How could he? How could James be so casual? After what he had said?

In through his nose. Out through his mouth.

"You're doing the weird breathing thing again," said James. He started to pick up Remus' things. "Ew, there's ink all over your books. S'alright, I'll Vanish it when we get back to the dormitory."

"I can manage," said Remus coldly. "Even though you're a fair sight more talented than I am. Isn't that what you said this morning?"

Awkward silence.

James shuffled his feet. "I suppose we need to talk, don't we?"

In through his nose. Out through his mouth. "That would be nice, thank you. I'm sorry."

"Why are you apologizing? Come on, I'll carry your stuff back to the dorm. Least I can do, mate."

Remus did the weird breathing thing all the way back to the dormitories, and was feeling quite relaxed when they finally arrived.

Although it was hard with everything bouncing around in his head. We're all human. Human decency. A werewolf shedding its human appearance to don its true nature. Sometimes I'm happy when he goes to visit his mum.

Remus really was sensitive, wasn't he?

AN: "Sensible" and "sensibility" are polar opposites, and I don't like it.