Remus did not have any nightmares that night, and he felt very well-rested the next day. At four pm, he made his way to the Defense Against the Dark Arts room for his lesson, feeling a little apprehensive but mostly excited.

This was why Remus wanted to be a wizard. He wanted to duel like his dad, who was very good at curses and defensive magic. He wanted to defend himself and to prove that he wasn't a Dark wizard like everyone expected him to be. Ever since he was little, he'd had childish dreams of superhero witches and wizards fighting the Dark Arts and living happily ever after, and he supposed that he wasn't grown-up enough quite yet to let go of those dreams. It sounded like so much fun!

Even though Remus was technically part of the Dark Arts himself.

But that was the thing. Remus, as a wolf, was very good at fighting. That couldn't be denied. Remus hadn't gotten into any fights on the full moon, but he knew for a fact that, if he did, then he would probably come out victorious. It was instinct. On the full moon, however, Remus didn't get to choose what he fought for. But here he was, standing outside Questus' classroom, getting ready to learn how to fight—as a person—for something that he actually believed in. Remus would be able to fight for any side he wanted, and that meant the world. He would get to choose. Not on the full moon, no, but as a person, he could actually be helpful against the Dark Arts instead of contributing to them.

With the upcoming war, that was very important to Remus.

He knocked on the door lightly, and Questus opened it before he even finished knocking. "Sit down," he said, and Remus sat down immediately. Even after months of knowing the man, Questus was still mildly intimidating. Remus didn't know why—it was just something in his eyes and his voice. He suspected it was the former-Auror thing. "I assume you came prepared?" asked Questus.

Remus furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. "How... how so? I didn't bring anything but my wand and..."

"And that ridiculous toad on your shoulder. Yeah, I know. I mean it in a different sense." Before Remus even had a chance to respond, Questus shot some sparks at his arm.

Remus yelped a bit in surprise, rubbing his arm and shooting Questus a furious look. "Professor! What was that for? My wand is still in my pocket!"

"Oh, so you think that anybody who may try to attack you is going to wait until you have your wand?"

"No, but I didn't expect you to..."

"You think you're going to know exactly when they're about to attack you? You think they'll announce it beforehand?"

"No, but I hardly even know..."

"You think that they're going to ask you how many spells you know? How good your Shield Charm is? You think they'll go easy on you to give you a fighting chance?"

"...I don't expect it to be someone I trust!"

"For goodness' sake, Lupin, you sleep in the same room as a Black. Your friends could find out and turn on you any day now, you know that?"

Remus cast his eyes downward. Yes, he knew that. He thought about it constantly.

Questus's expression was as nonchalant as ever. "I don't mean to upset you," he said, even though it was obvious that he didn't really care either way. "It's only the truth. I don't want you to get rid of your friends. But I do want you to be prepared." Questus turned around, and Remus assumed that he was pacing or going to fetch something from his desk. Suddenly, he heard Questus breathe in sharply, as if he was about to cast a spell, and Remus ducked just in time.

"Okay, Professor, I've learned my lesson!" he said crossly.

"Evidently not, seeing as your wand is still in your pocket... and you weren't even looking at me." Questus cast a self-righteous grin in Remus' direction as Remus pulled out his wand hurriedly. "Good reflexes, though. Are you sure that it's not a werewolf thing?"

"Er, yeah," said Remus. "Not the reflexes. But..."

"Yes?"

Remus paused. "I don't know. Maybe."

"Elaborate."

"Well, right before a person... casts a spell, or does anything suddenly, really, I sometimes notice things."

"Like what?"

"Heartbeats speeding up. If they're preparing for a long time, that is. And you... you inhaled really sharply, right before casting it."

Questus looked a bit impressed. "Extremely useful. You're going to have a half-second head-start. That's one of the most valuable abilities that you could possibly have when it comes to duelling."

"I can only do it when it's quiet and when I'm paying attention."

"So why didn't you duck the first time I attacked you?"

"Heart rates and breathing patterns change all the time. It could have been literally anything. Peter's heart rate speeds up whenever someone mentions Potions. James' breathing quickens when he even thinks about Quidditch. Sirius laughs a lot under his breath, so his breathing is always irregular."

"Hm." Questus tapped his fingers on his desk, considering. "Well, that's definitely going to be useful. I'd definitely focus on utilizing that as best as you can in the future. But first, I want to help you with your Shield Charm—that's top priority. How well can you cast it?"

"Quite well sometimes," said Remus. He'd been practicing a lot in the Hospital Wing—at least, when Madam Pomfrey allowed him to use magic. "But it's not very reliable."

"Try it."

Remus took a deep breath. "Protego," he said but nothing happened.

"Try it on the count of three," said Questus. He raised his wand. "One. Two. Three."

"Protego," said Remus as Questus shot more sparks at him. Remus felt the sparks hit his chest, and he flinched. "Why can't I do it?" he cried, frustrated. "I could do it a few days ago!"

"Oh, calm down. You need practice, that's all. And it's easier to cast spells when you're casting them for a reason. Helps with intention, which is a key concept in magic of most kinds. Try again. One, two, three."

"Protego!" This time, Remus managed to block about half of the sparks. He grinned. "Look, I did it!"

"No, you didn't. That's not how most spells work. If part of the spell hits you, you'll feel its effects just the same as if all of it did. You need to block all the sparks; otherwise you've failed. Try again."

Twenty minutes passed before Remus could finally cast the spell more reliably. "Wonderful," said Questus, and Remus beamed. "Now do it nonverbally."

Remus was no longer beaming. "What?!" he exclaimed; he dropped his wand and then scrambled to pick it up before Questus could sneak in another surprise attack. "Sir, that's a sixth-year skill. I could never." He was panicking a little now. It had been fine when Questus had been moving slowly, but now Remus felt in over his head. There was no way. Absolutely no way. Even Remus' father had trouble with nonverbal spells when he wasn't focusing properly—particularly Apparition in stressful situations. Remus could not do this. What if it just kept getting harder? How long would Questus try to help Remus before he realized that Remus was a hopeless case? "How long is this lesson going to last?" Remus asked, unintentional panic lacing his voice.

Questus frowned. "I was thinking an hour. Seeing as it's only been about half an hour, we've got some time. But if you're done..."

"No, sir, but I... I can barely cast the spell as it is, I couldn't possibly..."

"Nonverbal spells are a skill that you absolutely need to learn in order to be a decent duellist, Lupin. You can't duel well without them."

"But you're going too quickly!" Remus pleaded. "It's the first lesson! I'm a first-year!"

Questus was not, evidently, swayed by Remus' arguments. "Seeing as I've received years of training, I should think I know what I'm doing," he said acidly. "And they say there's a curse on the Defense Against the Dark Arts position. I don't believe it, personally—sounds a bit like a schoolyard rumor—but I may not be around to help next year. We're starting with the most important skill, not the easiest, and it's a very good idea to get into the habit of casting nonverbal spells at a young age."

"But..."

"I'm not asking you to achieve it today. I'm asking you to start trying today. And a little more respect, please—it may be a Saturday, but I am still your teacher."

"Yes, sir," Remus said dully, and then he raised his arm and did the proper movement. "It didn't work."

"That wasn't much of an attempt. Try again."

Remus did, but nothing happened. "It still didn't work!"

"This is very complicated magic. I'd be surprised if you got it this year at all."

"Then why are you asking me to do it, Professor?"

"We don't learn by trying things that are easy. If one meets all of one's goals, then one isn't really learning. Try again."

Remus did. Still nothing. "I'm telling you, sir, the spell still isn't reliable..."

"Stop making excuses. Try again."

Remus tried eight more times before Questus stopped him. "All right. Good attempts—thank you for trying. Now try a lower-level spell nonverbally. The Levitation Charm, perhaps? I assume you're more comfortable with that one."

"Sir, could you explain... how? I know the theory, but I... I'm not exactly sure how a nonverbal spell is cast in the first place."

"Oh, of course. Thinking the word—hearing it, more like—in your mind should do the trick... but that's just a stepping stone. You can't focus on anything else if you're doing that, and half the point of nonverbal magic is to be able to focus on something else while casting spells. Think of it this way: the words are only the training wheels. You can take them off and perform the spell without the words, but it takes more concentration and a thorough understanding of the spell. You're essentially forcing the magic to do what you want—exercising complete control over it without explicitly telling it what to do."

"Er... all right," said Remus. It sounded good in theory, but he still didn't really understand.

"I'm guessing that you know your parents well enough to be able to tell what they're thinking, to a point, without their saying anything?" asked Questus, and Remus nodded. "It's like that. Not only does it take concentration, it takes an incredible amount of understanding. And willpower—that's the most important thing."

"That's interesting, sir," said Remus. He'd never heard it explained that way before. "Where did you read that?"

"Read it?" Questus chuckled. "Spoken like a true bookworm. No, some things come through experience."

"So it's your own theory?"

"I suppose you could say that. Here, try again."

Nothing happened.

"It's no use, Professor."

"Well, it's not if you think like that. Confidence is necessary for casting any type of spell. You have to expect it to work."

Remus expected. He expected so hard that he thought his eyes were going to pop out. But nothing happened. Questus snorted slightly. "What?" said Remus indignantly.

"You look a little like you're trying not to sneeze."

Remus scowled and tried four more times. Nothing happened.

"All right, take a break," said Questus, and Remus turned around to sit down; he suddenly felt a slight sting on his upper arm.

"You shot sparks at me again!"

"You didn't duck."

"I was turned around!"

"Explain the werewolf-sense thing to me again," said Questus. "I won't attack you again today, I promise."

"It... it doesn't give me too much of an advantage."

"Did you hear a change in breathing or heart rate that time?"

"Yes, a little, but... I told you, it happens all the time. I've sort of trained myself not to notice it a lot. And it's only a split-second; I don't have a lot of time to act."

"Well, I suppose we'll have to un-train you, then," said Questus. "That really is a useful skill. I can't say I don't envy you."

"It's not worth it, sir."

"True. But still. It's helpful. Here, have a cup of tea."

Remus accepted the tea gratefully. "Are we done?"

"No. That was only fifteen more minutes. We've still got a quarter of an hour. Finish your tea quickly."

Remus did, and then he dragged himself into a standing position. He was incredibly drained. "Okay, I'm finished," he said.

"Good. We're going to duel."

"What? I..."

"You're not expected to win."

"Will you..."

"Let you win? Absolutely not."

"Why..."

"Do you want more lessons, Lupin?" said Questus, raising an eyebrow. "Is this something you're interested in? I must warn you, it will only get more difficult. I'm not going to make this easy, because it's not."

Remus was exhausted. He was thirsty, despite having consumed an entire cup of tea in less than a minute. He felt completely useless, he could not do anything that Questus asked him to, and he hadn't been this uncertain about his own abilities ever before. But... all things considered... "Of course, sir; I haven't had this much fun since Christmas," he admitted.

Questus smiled. "I thought so. It's exhilarating, isn't it? Something to work on? A challenge?"

"Yes, sir."

"Good. Here's another challenge for you, then. This is what I did with some of the people who trained me to become an Auror. We duelled every day to close out the practice. Gives you some experience, even though you're guaranteed to lose." He raised his wand. "Ready?"

"Aren't we supposed to bow?"

"I don't have time for such formalities," said Questus. "No one does that in a real, life-or-death duel. Bowing is only for show—for formal, public duels—and that's not the kind of duel I'm training you for. You can start it off. Remember: focus."

Remus didn't have enough confidence in many spells. Proper duelling spells, he knew, were notoriously difficult to pull off. "Er, Melifors," he said, but Questus deflected it easily.

"Interesting choice," he said, Disarming Remus effortlessly at the same time.

Remus sighed and picked up his wand.

"Again," said Questus.

"Melifors," said Remus; he was so flustered that he was not able to think of anything else. Questus blocked it and sent another Disarming Spell towards Remus. Remus saw it coming this time and moved to the left.

"There, you're learning," said Questus, wordlessly casting another spell.

Remus fell to the ground, petrified. He almost protested that Questus had cast two spells in a row, and that wasn't fair—but then he realized that taking turns was not something that one typically did when duelling. Besides, he couldn't speak if he wanted to. He was still frozen on the ground.

Questus plucked Remus' wand from his hand and then lifted the spell. "That's an example of a more creative way to disarm a person," he said. "Using unexpected methods is often useful. Go again."

Remus stood up, but Questus Disarmed him while he was still brushing off. "I wasn't ready!"

"The Dark Arts won't wait until you're ready, as I'm sure you already know. Your past has proven it over and over again, has it not?"

Remus squinched his eyes shut at the memory of the giant wolf, of the Durmstrang boys, of the Ministry's reproachful eyes, of his uncle's death stare, of the pictures in schoolbooks of werewolves, of the Shrieking Shack...

Suddenly, he heard Questus inhale a little more sharply than normal—he immediately ducked. Questus snorted a bit. "What was that for?" he asked.

"You breathed differently, Professor. Sorry."

"Oh. I was actually getting ready to sigh at the sight of you standing still, with your eyes shut, in the middle of a duel."

"We're not in the middle of a duel...?"

"We're always in the middle of a duel," said Questus, Disarming Remus yet again.

Remus picked up his wand. "Okay. I'm ready. Try again."

Questus smiled a bit and cast another Disarming Charm, and Remus said "Protego!" as firmly as he could... but he was too late. He groaned. "How do you do it that quickly?"

"Nonverbal spells, Lupin. Speaking won't get you the speed that you need to block a spell."

"How did I do it with Snape, then?"

"Snape is significantly slower than I am, seeing as I'm a trained Auror and he's a first-year. He is good at nonverbal magic though—proof that it is possible for a first-year, albeit a talented one, to learn. And you're talented plenty. Also, I'm guessing that, since you had something to prove and nothing to lose, you were much more confident. Confidence helps a lot. Are we finished? You look tired."

"No, sir, not yet," said Remus, who was indeed very tired but wanted to block at least one spell. "Once more, please?"

"Of course. Ready?" Questus cast another spell, and Remus tried to block it—confidently!—but he could not, and the spell hit him directly in the chest. It felt very tingly, but Remus couldn't quite place it. It faded after a few seconds with no obvious effects, and Remus looked at Questus quizzically.

"What kind of hex was that supposed to be, sir?" he said, feeling around his head for horns or antennae or something of the sort.

"Tickling Charm."

"Oh. I'm not ticklish."

"I surmised as much. Comes with the high pain tolerance, I suppose? I was only curious."

"Professor..." Remus did not like being treated like an experimental subject at all. But was it really worth it to argue? "Never mind. Can we go one more time? I want to block something, at least."

Remus heard Questus inhale, as if to speak, and he immediately said "Protego!" at the same time as Questus spoke the incantation to Disarm him. Sure enough, a shield materialized: Remus had effectively deflected the spell. He was overjoyed. "Did you see that, Professor? I did it; I actually did it—"

Suddenly, his wand flew out of his hand. "That's another strategy," said Questus. "Switching between nonverbal and verbal. Your opponent won't know what to expect. And also... don't stop to celebrate."

"Yes, sir," said Remus, picking up his wand. "But... I blocked something!"

"If you're ever attacked, Lupin, your attacker is not going to stop to applaud you when you block a spell. But yes," he conceded, "very well done, for a beginner. Now you should probably get back to the common room and finish that essay I assigned on the Verdimillious Charm. It can be used offensively in a duel, so next time you can—I'm assuming you want to come again?"

"Yes, sir!"

"How about Tuesdays and Thursdays?"

"Yes, please, sir. Thank you, Professor."

"My pleasure." He grinned slightly. "It's rare to find a young person who actually enjoys learning. And rarer still that said young person has a natural talent for Defense Against the Dark Arts. You're going to—" Questus suddenly stopped.

"Yes?"

"I was going to say 'do great things', but that's unlikely, isn't it? Everyone hates you, and life's not going to be easy in the first place. But never mind. If a werewolf ever was destined for great things, it would be you. Off to the common room, now. You're going to be exhausted for a bit, I'm afraid."

Remus was indeed exhausted, but in the best way possible.

He liked Professor Questus.

"What were you doing?" said Sirius, standing in front of Remus with his arms crossed. "We needed you!"

"What? Why?" asked Remus, promptly blotting the ink on his essay. "Ah, fiddlesticks."

"Number one. No one uses 'fiddlesticks' as a swear word. It makes you sound stupid. Number two. We sort of kind of got in trouble for hexing another first-year, and you're good at talking us out of trouble! And we already have detention until Easter hols! And Minerva said that losing House Points clearly doesn't work for us, so she can't do that either..."

"I think she just wants to win the House Cup," said Peter, and Remus snorted.

"No chance of that," he said.

"You have to have faith," said James wisely. "Anything can happen with a little faith."

"Except—" the cure for lycanthropy— "winning the House Cup," said Remus slowly. He knew firsthand that faith did not solve life's problems. Not one bit. Not ever.

"Anyway," said Sirius, "since you weren't here to talk us out of trouble, old Minerva was pretty angry."

"So what did she say?"

"She said she's going to ask John for a creative punishment," James groaned.

"John?"

"Yeah, John Questus. Hey, we should learn his middle name. Do you know his middle name, Loopy? You were with him today."

"...No, I don't."

"Wait. Why were you with him?" asked Sirius, his eyes narrowed. "I thought you said you weren't related."

"We're not! He just..." Suddenly, Remus sensed Professor Questus coming down the corridor. Please let him have a good excuse, Remus prayed, and then he stalled until Questus entered the common room. "Professor," he said desperately. "Tell them why I was with you today."

Questus looked at Remus sharply; Remus heard him mutter, very quietly so that no one but Remus could hear, "That's extremely suspicious, Lupin. You really can't think of anything?"

Remus shook his head almost imperceptibly.

Now Questus rolled his eyes dramatically and turned back to Remus' friends. "Don't know why he can't tell you himself," he told them. "He's probably merely being annoyingly humble about it, but he has the top marks in my class. I'm giving him extra lessons. Surprised you didn't tell them earlier, Lupin—it's definitely something to be proud of."

"Oh, that makes sense," said Sirius thoughtfully. And then: "Wait! You can't be in the Gryffindor common room! You're a Slytherin!"

"Not anymore, Black. Now I'm a teacher. And if you don't want your family biased against you because of your House, you should not do the same to others. I'm here because I was just asked to come up with a punishment for you that does not involve House Points or detention. Any ideas?"

"A lifetime supply of Chocolate Frogs," said James somberly. "I'm terrified of those things."

"Force us to drink a whole vat of Felix Felicis," said Sirius. "That sounds unpleasant."

"Or you could just let us off with a warning," said Peter with a small shiver. "Warnings are scary."

"Actually, I have an idea," said Questus thoughtfully. "I'll have to ask if you can take a short holiday from school."

"What?" said James. "That's not a punishment!" Sirius kicked him. "I mean, I especially hate the beach," he amended. "That sounds like an awful punishment."

"Oh, believe me. It will be. Come find me tomorrow in Defense."

With that, Questus turned around and left the common room with a small swish of his plain brown robes.

And, as soon as he was gone, James grinned. "In celebration of getting rewarded for troublemaking, I say we sneak down to the Great Hall and put Sticking Charms on the seats by the Slytherin tables," he proposed.

Remus rolled his eyes. They'd never learn.

But he liked them anyway.

AN: Shout-out to Pellucidityfan, who has the best username I've ever seen XD