The morning of the twenty-third dawned with a bit of a somber air.

It hadn't been Remus' dreams: he dreamt only of happy things. His brain was permeated with happy visions of his friends meandering around the party with him (the party had actually been sort of fun, to Remus' surprise, and Scamander had left the party right after talking to Remus. That was good; Remus didn't have the energy nor will to avoid him the whole time). That night, Remus didn't have a single nightmare.

But despite Remus' happy dreams... everyone in his dormitory was still in a foul mood the next morning.

It wasn't because Peter and James were particularly sad to be leaving. They both had wonderful families to go home to. Peter had been talking about meeting his cousins all week. James didn't talk about the holidays much, but he absolutely lit up from the inside-out whenever Christmas was mentioned. Remus couldn't even imagine a big Christmas celebration, surrounded by family and gifts and decorations in a large house, and without the fear of the impending moon hovering over him. It sounded amazing, and Remus could understand why James was eager to go. It was obvious, furthermore, that both Peter and James were slightly homesick. Yes, they were positively thrilled to be going home for the holidays.

Sirius, however, was furious, and his mood was contagious. Remus woke up the next morning to the sound of Sirius shouting at Peter to shut up about the Hogwarts Express.

"Wass'going on?" Remus mumbled. "You leaving already?"

"Oh, don't you start with me," Sirius fumed. "Just because you're staying doesn't mean that you can rub it in our faces. I'm going home to sit at an uncomfortable dinner table for hours and get yelled at because I'm in Gryffindor. My mum hasn't seen me in person since the day we left for Hogwarts—since then, I've been Sorted into Gryffindor, made friends with a Potter and a half-blood, and done loads of other stuff that my cousin's probably snitched on me for. And trust me, Mum's letters are not funny at all when they're vocal and when it's not James reading them. She's like a Banshee, but more deadly."

Remus rubbed his eyes and sat up wearily. "Want me to kidnap you or something? You could hide in my trunk."

"I don't see how you can joke at a time like this. You've got no idea. None of you. You have no idea what it's like, for your own family to hate you. And don't even say anything, Remus. Your family being gone because they don't like you isn't the same as being forced to spend time with said family that hates you."

"I wasn't going to say that," Remus mumbled.

"No one understands! And just because your life isn't Felix Felicis like James' is doesn't mean that you understand!"

"You're right," said Remus.

"Oh, shut up. Shut up! Just go back to sleep or something. I don't want to see any of your faces, especially not you. You get to stay here, wander the halls, do homework, read, and do other stupid things that you like to do for some reason. And you don't even have an awful family. You love them; they love you... There's not even a reason for you to stay at school, you're just doing it to annoy me..."

"Woah, mate," said James, chucking a pillow at Sirius. "Don't take it out on Remus. He's only been agreeing with you the whole time. Your life is awful. Yeah, we know. Now yell at me instead. I'll yell back, and then you'll feel better."

"WHAT DO YOU MEAN I'LL FEEL BETTER? YOU DON'T KNOW ANYTHING ABOUT ANYTHING, JAMES! YOU'RE PERFECT! YOU'VE GOT THE PERFECT FAMILY AND THE PERFECT FRIENDS AND THE PERFECT LIFE! YOU'RE GOOD AT MAGIC AND YOU'RE GOOD WITH PEOPLE AND NOTHING BAD EVER HAPPENS TO YOU! SHUT UP!"

"I'VE BEEN YOUR FRIEND FOR MONTHS AND THIS IS HOW YOU TREAT ME? WHY IS IT SO DIFFICULT TO BE NICE TO PEOPLE? IT'S NOT THAT HARD. JUST CALM DOWN AND STOP WHINGING!"

"YOU HAVE NO RIGHT!"

"I'M ALWAYS RIGHT!"

"THAT'S NOT WHAT I SAID, YOU ARROGANT GIT! DO YOU EVER EVEN LISTEN?"

"WHAT DID YOU SAY?"

"I SAID DO YOU EVER LISTEN."

"SORRY, WASN'T LISTENING!"

Suddenly, the both of them were laughing, and the tension was completely broken. "Thanks, that did make me feel better," said Sirius.

"No problem, mate. And I'll talk to you over the mirror. You can even just leave it on during dinner and I'll sit and be quiet with you."

"Would you? It's really long."

"Yep. I'll make faces, and then you'll laugh and get in trouble. And before you know it, we'll all be back on the seventh."

Remus was amazed. He couldn't imagine saying such hurtful things to a person in such a loud tone and immediately making up afterward. The friendship of James Potter and Sirius was a strange one, but it worked nonetheless.

The dormitory was empty now. There were no classes. The castle was so much quieter.

Remus stayed in the dormitory for a long time. It was just so quiet.

And there was nothing to do.

He did some reading for a couple of hours, and then he decided that he might as well go down for lunch. He could go anywhere. He wondered how many staff members were seeing their families for the holidays.

He placed Bufo on his shoulder and walked down the staircases. Alone. It was strange; Sirius and James and Peter had hardly left him alone at all since the moment they'd come.

There were a few more students in the corridors besides Remus. They were mostly talking with their friends—friends that Remus didn't have. They were all home.

Remus had never felt so alone.

The Great Hall was less than half of what it used to be. It was so quiet that the clinking of forks and spoons was louder than the chatter. A few of the teachers were gone, including Sidus and Slughorn. Remus didn't want to stand out by sitting alone, but he also didn't want to sit next to somebody whom he didn't know. He thought about skipping lunch, but Madam Pomfrey was watching him and he knew that he'd never hear the end of it.

He looked for Evans, but she wasn't there. He did, however, see Snape sitting all by himself.

Remus considered. On one hand, Snape was mean, and had tried to hex him earlier in the year. On the other hand, Remus kind of knew him. How awkward would it be to sit a few seats away? Not next to him or anything. And Remus had a book; it wasn't as if he would try to talk to him. Plus, there were hardly any other first-years: most had gone home to see their families. And Remus did feel kind of bad for his friends' actions. Maybe this would be seen as... well, maybe a peace offering of sorts? If they could sit near each other peacefully, perhaps they could talk civilly, too.

Remus took a seat at the table, sitting three seats away from the seat opposite Snape. Snape gave him a venomous look.

"I don't recall inviting you, Lupin," he said.

"I don't recall that event, either. Either you're being very rude or my memory is terrible."

"Probably the latter. You're completely daft in Transfiguration."

"So you did invite me? How lovely of you." Remus was aware that he was being rude, so he toned it down a bit. "Look, Snape, there aren't many first-years. And we know each other, to an extent. Seeing as there are no other completely empty tables, I'd like to sit here. I have a book. I won't bother you."

"You are bothering me. Your very existence bothers me."

"My existence bothers me as well," Remus said with a smile, "but you can't take up an entire table."

"I could hex you," Snape hissed.

"I could hex you, too. We can hex each other. End up in the Hospital Wing together."

"You belong in the Hospital Wing if you think that you can land a hex on me." Remus heard the rustling of robes as Snape pulled out his wand under the table, and Remus pulled out his too. To defend himself, of course. As if he would do anything different.

Well, he might.

Remus had spent hours practicing the Shield Charm, and he was pretty confident in his abilities. So when Snape cast a (nonverbal!) spell under the table, clearly expecting Remus to be none the wiser about his actions, Remus muttered "Protego," and Snape's spell did not land.

Snape looked surprised, and Remus nearly laughed. "You were saying?" he said pleasantly.

"You're so annoying," said Snape, and then he stood up to find another table. "I'm surprised you have any friends at all... although I suppose Black and Potter can't do any better."

Remus watched him go, determinedly ignoring the pounding of his heart. He glanced towards Madam Pomfrey, who was, thankfully, not watching him anymore. He felt oddly exposed being the only one at a table. Suddenly, he heard someone come up behind him and he whirled around.

It was Puttle, the Gryffindor Prefect. "Lupin, right?" said Puttle. He glanced at a table on the other side of the room and made a face. Remus guessed that he had been told to come over and comfort the poor lonely first-year.

"Puttle?"

"Yes. Suppose you know me well enough after all the time I spent chewing out your friends. Anyway. It's my job, as Prefect, to make sure that the first-years are doing well. Seeing as there aren't many first-years around, and you're sitting all alone... it's my responsibility to check in."

"I'm all right," said Remus. "I have a book. I'm not lonely. You can go back to your friends."

Puttle gave his friends a longing look. "No, they'll yell at me. Everyone thinks I'm a terrible Prefect. Leaving you all alone won't help matters."

"You can sit down if you'd like," said Remus, "but I don't need you if you don't want to be here." He looked over at Puttle's friends, who were giggling and staring. Remus suddenly felt very young and stupid. He was eleven, and Puttle was probably in fifth year. They were just treating him like a game, a toy; something to tease and make fun of and take care of. Remus felt that way sometimes in the Hospital Wing with Madam Pomfrey or with his parents. He wasn't a charity case, and he wasn't an infant... yet so many people seemed to forget that.

"You're very different from your friends, you know," Puttle was saying. "Why do you spend so much time with them? Seems to me you'd be better off with people more your speed." Puttle sat down—directly next to Remus!—and grabbed a bowl of soup.

"They're brilliant," Remus said. "And they're in my dormitory. And they like me."

"Plenty of people would like you if you only talked to them," said Puttle. "You're kind of odd. It's like no one exists to you but those three."

That was because Remus couldn't get close to anybody. He wasn't even supposed to be this close to his friends. If they found out, his life would be ruined. If they told people, it would get out in the papers. He had read enough of the newspapers to know that "Werewolf at Hogwarts!" would be a front-page story. He would be recognized and shunned for the rest of his life, never get a job, and never have any friends ever again. The less people that Remus spent time with, the better.

All in all, Remus wasn't sure how to respond to Puttle's statement. What would James do? Oh, right: he'd probably make a self-absorbed kind of joke. Remus could do that. "I talk to people who are worth my time," he said, grinning. "Not my fault that half the student population doesn't meet my standards."

Puttle raised his eyebrows. "Woah. I guess you really are a little like them."

"I'm a lot like them. We have loads in common."

"Then should I give you detention? That's what I would do if I saw them around."

Remus smiled. "But I'm nothing like them. We have nothing in common."

Puttle laughed and shook his head, clearly amused. Remus exhaled slightly. Crisis averted. "How are you getting on with your classes and all that?"

"Fine," said Remus. "I've been working hard."

"I know. Professor Questus keeps bragging about you."

"He does?" Remus said. He didn't know how to feel.

"Yes." Puttle lowered his voice in a passable imitation of Questus, though not nearly as good as Sirius'. "I don't know why you can't recognize Limbo Mist. I have a first-year student who can recognize a Disillusioned person. Use your logic, for goodness' sake. One of my first-years recognized a hexed book and worked his way around it. Stay calm! I know a first-year who can do that better than you."

Remus almost laughed. Questus did not think that Remus' abilities to "stay calm" were well-honed at all, so he couldn't be talking about Remus... though the others were indeed probably about him. "I don't think he could be talking about me," said Remus.

"Some people think it's just a hypothetical first-year that he made up to make us feel bad, but we overhear first-years talking about it. From what I can gather, most of Questus' stories are about—or at least based off of—a certain Remus Lupin."

Remus was feeling a lot of things, but at the root of his emotions... he felt a little betrayed, to be honest. Didn't Questus know that Remus wanted to stay under the radar? Couldn't Questus guess that it was dangerous for people to find out about Remus? Remus didn't want to become some sort of legendary first-year prodigy amongst the fifth-years. He just wanted to be invisible. He resolved to talk to Questus about this later.

"I'm finished eating," said Remus. "I'm going to go to the library. Anything else you need to tell the defenseless first-year so that your friends don't think you're a bad Prefect?"

Puttle looked like he was thinking. "Want some advice?"

"Of course, oh Older and Wiser All-Knowing Fifth-Year." Remus winced internally. He really needed to lay off the sarcasm.

Puttle didn't bat an eye. "Go out for Prefect when you're older. You could make it. You're clever enough, and pretty friendly. But you need to talk to more people."

"Taken into consideration," said Remus. But there was no way he wanted to become Prefect, and the thought was almost laughable. "May I give you some advice as well?"

"What advice could you possibly have for me?" scoffed Puttle. "You're only a first-year."

"Maybe get rid of the spider on your arm?" Remus suggested. Puttle looked down. Sure enough, there was a large spider crawling up his arm. He let out a small shriek and brushed it off, nearly jumping out of his chair. And, when Puttle looked up, Remus was already walking out the door on his way to the library.

Making fun of Prefects was kind of fun, he decided. Maybe James and Sirius had the right idea after all.

Dear Mum and Dad,

Firstly, I'd like to apologize again for staying at Hogwarts over the holidays. I know you must be lonely without me, and I'm lonely without you or my friends. Hogwarts alone is very boring so far... but you know me: I like boring. I've been in the library now for an hour and a half. I love my friends dearly, but they are—quite frankly—annoying. They're also very loud. It's a miracle I was able to get any homework done, what with their pillow fights and rambling and running amok.

That was a lie—Remus actually preferred doing schoolwork when his friends were distracting him. He didn't know why. He supposed he just liked their company.

And yes, I am being careful and staying out of trouble. Couldn't get into any trouble anyway—all the professors know my name, year, and species.

Remus frowned and started the letter over, omitting the last sentence. Mentioning werewolves to his parents was never a good idea: his father only got guilty and his mother got weepy and then the whole day would be spoiled.

It's really quiet. Lots of the older students are staying, but some of them like to sleep in until three in the afternoon, or just stay in the dormitories or run outside with their friends. It's too cold for me. I shall never understand why some people like the cold better than warm weather (I'm looking at you, Dad).

In your last letter, you asked me a plethora of questions about the last full moon, and I told you that I didn't feel up to answering them. I was sort of trying to enjoy my non-full-moon time, but now that the next one is coming up I suppose I should talk about it a bit. I'm sure that Madam Pomfrey and Professor Questus already answered some of your questions, but you never know with those two.

They'd asked, so Remus could mention werewolves here—he just had to be very careful to stay academic and neutral. He could do that.

I'm fine. I'm absolutely and completely fine. Had an infection of sorts, but it's fine now. Hardly hurts at all. It's sort of above my left elbow, which means I can cover it up easily, too. I am fine.

Professor Questus, as I already mentioned, is wonderful. He's not mean to me at all. In fact, he even once invited me over for tea. And he asked me before our werewolf lesson if his information was accurate. It mostly was, of course. He knows his stuff. And Madam Pomfrey is brilliant.

There. That was plenty about werewolves to last Remus a month. At least until the next full moon, which was... as Remus remembered with a sickening swoop in the pit of his stomach... mere days away.

My other answers to your questions are yes, no, no, yes, and yes, respectively. And the answer to the last one is "badger".

Christmas at Hogwarts will be frightfully dull without you. I don't know what I shall do without Dad chasing me around, trying to put ribbons in my hair. (Dad: feel free to do that to Mum. You know how she gets when you muss her hair. It'll be hilarious.) I tried to talk to another first-year staying here (I think that there are only four), but he didn't talk back much. It's okay, though, the Hogwarts library is more than friends enough—although Madam Pince does not enjoy my company. She looks ancient. Dad: was she the librarian when you were at Hogwarts?

I think I'll stop by Hagrid's later today. He's incredible. He's a half-giant, and tells the best stories (although I think I've already mentioned that. Once. Twice. Three times. Maybe seven). He told me one about finding a Unicorn in the forest. He snuck up behind it as quietly as he could, and the Unicorn didn't see him—it was busy grazing, as Unicorns do. And then he whispered a greeting... as softly as he could so as not to startle it... and the Unicorn jumped FIVE FEET INTO THE AIR, landed on its back, and then took off like a Dementor confronted with a Patronus. He said it looked like an overturned turtle. He told it better; I was laughing so much I could barely breathe—even though it's not really that funny now that I think about it. His "rock cakes", however, are terrible. Don't tell him I said that.

Professor Dumbledore gets more festive every day. First his socks were green and red. Then they had reindeer on them. Then the hem of his robes had holly (real holly!), and now it's slowly moving up his robes. Right now, everything's decorated with presents, trees, holly, berries, reindeer, etc. up to his waist! I can't wait until Christmas day. I reckon he'll be the very image of Christmas.

I can't get over how quiet it is. I'm going to have so much time to write letters to you. Don't forget to write back. I want to hear all about Garrison. He's my favorite; I miss him so much. Oh, and you two, I suppose. You come after Garrison.

There was nothing else to write, even though Remus had too much time on his hands and nothing to do besides write to his parents. He tapped the quill against his lips for a few moments, trying to think of something else to tell his mother and father, but Hogwarts was simply too uneventful without his friends. He sort of wanted to tell them more about Madam Pomfrey, and Professor Questus, and the cursed book, and his trepidations about being the center of attention. He wanted to tell them about the teachers' prejudice. He wanted to tell them about how uncomfortable he felt sometimes—how hard it was to lie all the time—how exhausting it was when his life was constantly on the line.

But it would only upset them, so he didn't.

Don't get too bored without me!
Remus.

With that, Remus folded up the letter and took it to the Owlery. Then he went back to bed, curled up under the covers, and read a book. There was nothing else to do, really.

AN: Got a review that I'd like to reply to real quick!

Currently, I am writing mid third-year, so I'll cover at least up to that (the goal is all the way through Hogwarts and maybe beyond, though that's a lot of writing and I'm not sure I can do it yet!). First year is 99 chapters. It will be a series—after all, it's gonna be super long and I want people to be able to read only the years that interest them. The series does not end with the Marauders discovering Remus' secret—I've already written that and the story is still going strong :)

In terms of replying to all the other reviews: all of you are absolutely amazing and I swear I smile like an idiot every time I get a review. Thank you all so much!