The next day, Questus made James, Sirius, and Peter stay after class. Remus waited out in the corridor and shamelessly eavesdropped on the conversation. He may have been superhuman in some areas, but he certainly wasn't that honorable.

"Professor McGonagall has approved my request," said Questus, and Remus figured that he was talking about the "creative" punishment that McGonagall had bid him to come up with. "Due to the nature and frequency of your infractions, we've decided on a more severe punishment than detention and House Points."

"So you're saying that we're actually getting an extra holiday?" asked James. He sounded thrilled.

"Not quite. I use 'holiday' in the sense that you'll be missing class, but you'll still go to school. I think that your problem is that you feel yourself to be superior to your classmates."

"The Slytherin ones, at least," said Sirius, and there was a sound akin to a high-five. Remus internally groaned at his friends' stupidity. High-fiving was not the thing to do when one was in trouble.

"Good. So you're going to be attending classes with the Slytherins for a few days."

Then there was dead silence, even to Remus' werewolf ears.

"What?" cried Sirius, and his voice cut through the quiet like a knife. "That's not fair! That's not a holiday at all!"

There was a sudden silence, a pleased little humming noise from James, and then Remus knew exactly what they were thinking. He dreaded to think of the pranks that they would play on the poor Slytherins... "Actually, that wouldn't be too bad," murmured Sirius, who had likely realized the same thing as Remus.

"Oh, you won't be with the Slytherin first-years," said Questus triumphantly. "You'll be with the Slytherin seventh-years."

There was another silence, but this one was entirely different.

"You can't," said James bluntly. "They'll... I dunno, beat us up or something."

"Hex you?" said Questus. "Like you've been doing to your classmates?"

"I... it's different! You can't!"

"I can, and I just did. I hope this teaches you—don't think I didn't notice what you did to the seats at the Slytherin tables this morning. You're lucky that I got up early to remove the charms; otherwise, the seventh-years would be even angrier."

"We won't know the curriculum!"

"Imagine being actually challenged in class. It'll do you good," said Questus, which was actually a rather good point. Peter would be lost and clueless, but Remus would catch him up on the homework he'd missed. And James and Sirius might actually get something out of doing work that was closer to their level than the easy first-year material.

James, however, was not having it. "What about Remus? He'll be lonely without us! He can't be alone!"

Oh, Remus couldn't stand that. He was sensitive, but he wasn't that sensitive. He stepped out from behind the corner. Questus probably already knew that he had been eavesdropping, anyway. He knew Remus plenty well for that, and he certainly wouldn't get Remus in trouble because of some simple eavesdropping: after all, Questus himself had done it whilst Disillusioned in front of the DAD class. "I'm not sensitive!" said Remus heatedly. "And I can be alone! What do you think I do every evening when you lot are in detention? What do you think I did over Christmas? I'm not some..."

"Fragile china doll?" James supplied, and Peter burst into giggles.

"No! I'm not!" said Remus.

"He's not," said Questus firmly. "But I'm sure it will be unpleasant for him to attend classes without his friends, as it would be for any of you. You should have thought of that before you broke the rules. How about the twenty-ninth of February? For three days?"

"Are you asking us, or telling us?" said James.

"Telling you. Twenty-ninth of February. Three days. And over the course of those three days—to ensure that you're not plotting anything—I'm going to make you sleep in spare dormitories. Apart. You're dismissed."

Remus smiled a little as he left.

The twenty-ninth of February was a full moon, and now he was guaranteed to make it through all but one day without his friends noticing that he was absent.

Leave it to Questus to buy him more time in a creative and productive way.

That Tuesday, he showed up to the DAD classroom again—and, this time, he had his wand in his hand. Questus noticed and nodded approvingly. "You're learning, at least," he said. "That's good. Try the Shield Charm."

Remus did, but nothing happened. "I could do it last time!" he said indignantly.

"I know. Try again."

Remus tried again, and this time he produced a fairly resilient Shield Charm.

"Okay. Now do it nonverbally."

Remus scrunched up his face and tried, but nothing happened. He tried again. And again. And again.

"Stop brandishing your wand; you'll take someone's eye out," said Questus. "Try more deliberately. You have to expect it to work—I can't stress that enough."

Remus expected, but nothing happened. He kept trying for another half an hour, with the occasional correction from Professor Questus, but the results were still absolutely nonexistent.

When Questus stopped him for a break, Remus was exhausted. "Have some water," Questus advised, and Remus drank the glass he was given gratefully. "Feeling okay?"

"Yes, sir."

"Good. Ready to duel?"

Remus finished the water and swallowed hard. "I guess."

And before he could even put the cup down, he'd been Disarmed.

The Pensieve, Remus found, worked well. Neither he nor Sirius had had any terrible nightmares, though Remus still found it a bit hard to sleep with the window looming over him—especially on clear nights, when the light from the moon spilled through the window and reminded him that the full moon was drawing nearer and nearer.

Every night, he'd let Sirius use it first (who found it absolutely fascinating), and sometimes James and Peter would try it as well (just because they were curious). Then, when they were in bed, he'd draw his curtains shut and remove as many thoughts as he could muster before changing into pajamas and burrowing under his covers, trying to cover the moon's mocking sneer burning into his arm.

He didn't revisit any memories, except when he really couldn't sleep. It was always relaxing to see his mum again, even though she couldn't see him. It made him feel far less homesick.

His next lesson with Professor Questus went as well as Remus could have expected. He lost the duel. He could not cast a nonverbal spell. Questus landed two surprise attacks (but Remus did manage to dodge two).

After a while, the next Quidditch game arrived, and Remus was pulled into a frenzy of James-chatter. He wore his Gryffindor jumper, and he let himself be pulled to the Quidditch stands, where Sirius took dozens of pictures and James looked unbearably happy. Remus didn't even pay that much attention the game—he was just so happy to be with his friends.

The weeks passed quickly. School was fun, Remus found, and he loved learning. He was even doing a bit better in Transfiguration, though he still could not be considered good at the subject. And his marks were not nearly as impressive as James' or Sirius' in any class but DAD. But still, he loved the frenzied rush of the mornings and teasing his friends over meals and the quiet evenings while they were in detention. What made it even better was that James and Sirius were too sore over Questus' punishment to hex any other classmates—Remus loved his friends, but watching them hex defenseless students always made him feel a bit squishy inside.

"I have a list of hexes I want to try out," grumbled James, "but I don't want him to extend the punishment."

"You don't know the half of it," said Sirius, who scowled every time someone mentioned it. "Malfoy's in seventh year! Malfoy! How could John do that to me?"

"Who's Malfoy?" asked Peter, his mouth full of bread.

"He's dating my cousin Narcissa," said Sirius. "She's in sixth year. Ugh, he hates me! And John knows that! It's not fair!"

"I know about the Malfoys," said James. "Ugly lot. They probably hate me, too."

"Definitely," said Sirius. "Every good Pureblood family hates yours, mate. Mum was talking about you just before I left the house to go to Hogwarts in September, actually." He raised his voice a few pitches to a stern voice with just a hint of screechiness. "Fleamont Potter's son is in first year, and if you so much as speak to him, you'll be in big trouble!" Sirius grinned. "So, naturally, I wanted to be your friend."

James laughed. "I didn't know that! That's why you found me on the train? Oh, that makes it even better!" He looked at Remus and Peter and grinned. "Sirius opened the door to my compartment, waltzed in without even asking permission, and said, 'Hey, new best friend.' It was hilarious."

"Aren't you Pureblood, James?" asked Peter. "Why do they hate you?"

"I'm Pureblood, but I'm not one of the Sacred Twenty-Eight. Never have been, even though there's not a Muggle in my family line. And everyone hates Dad, since he's so friendly with the lower classes."

"Lower classes?" asked Remus.

"Yeah. Muggles. Muggle-borns. Even half-breeds. Families like the Malfoys and Blacks think that I'm..." He looked at Sirius.

"Throwing pearls to swine," said Sirius wisely. "Making a mockery of your heritage. Spoiling the good name that your ancestors have made for you. Oh, and Mum thinks that maybe you're trying to get up an army of half-breeds and Muggles and Mud... Muggle-borns to take over the world. Sorry, Remus. And also that you don't understand the hierarchy of the world, you're threatening to overthrow it, and you could damage the very fabric of our society."

"An army!" James scoffed. "As if Dad would start up an army. I can just see him now, commanding an army of Pixies and werewolves and vampires and Giants! That's ridiculous."

Remus hugged his middle. He didn't like talking about this.

"Yeah, you're right," chuckled Sirius. "She's an idiot. All of my relatives are horrid. I mean... Alphard seemed cool last time I met him, but we didn't really talk much. And Andromeda's not too bad—even though she was never nice to me, either. She graduated Hogwarts a year ago; ran off and married a Mud... Muggle-born. Sorry, Remus, that's just the name by which Mum calls him. Tonks, I think his name was. She's cut all contact with our family. Downright brilliant. I plan to do that someday." Sirius frowned. "Well, run away, I mean—not marry Tonks; he's already taken."

"You haven't seen her since then?" asked James. "That's sad."

"Do I look like I care? She wasn't the worst of the lot, and she didn't care about blood purity and all that, but she was still a Slytherin. Used to tease me as a kid. Just 'cos she thought a Muggle-born was attractive doesn't mean I miss her." Sirius let out a frustrated sigh. "You don't understand, James. Everyone's horrid. These are going to be the worst three days ever."

"Oh, I understand perfectly," said James, buttering a crumpet grimly. "Trust me, I don't like it any more than you do. What are the chances he'll cancel the punishment, Remus?"

"None," said Remus. "He's too stubborn for that."

"Ugh." James slid his crumpet over to Remus. "Here, I'm not hungry. And you like crumpets. Don't bother trying to give it back; my stomach's all twisty and ill now that I'm thinking about Slytherins."

Before Remus could even blink, it was the thirtieth of January: the full moon. He groaned and checked his watch. Four am. He felt awful.

He stuffed his robes in his bag and placed Bufo on his shoulder. James woke up, predictably, and muttered, "You didn't have another nightmare? I thought you'd fixed that."

"I did. I just woke up early. Going to get changed and then spend the day in the library." He knew that James wouldn't look for him there; for some reason, James thought it was embarrassing to be seen in the library. "I might skip meals. I'm feeling ill today."

James was suddenly wide awake. "You are? You're not coming down with something? Is it your... your illness?"

Remus thought fast. "Probably just a cold. Weak immune system, remember? I bet I'll be fine tomorrow."

"Okay. Feel better soon."

James flopped back on his pillow, and Remus tiptoed out of the dormitory and into the lavatory to get changed into his robes. His muscles were killing him and his head felt as if it was going to split in two, but otherwise, he felt as if it was going to be a fairly good moon.

But he wasn't always right, of course, so he tried not to get his hopes up.

"Mr. Lupin!" said Madam Pomfrey. "Come in. It's a little earlier than last time, isn't it?"

Remus made a small noise and collapsed into his bed.

"Not good, I expect?"

"No, it's better than last time, I think. But I feel like rubbish."

"Would you like me to pick up a book for you at the library?"

"No, thank you. I'm going to..." Remus paused. "Actually, can I walk around?"

"Walk around where?"

"Just... around. You know. Back and forth."

"You want to pace?"

"Yeah."

"Does that help?"

"It helps clear my head a bit."

"I'm not sure that's good for you right now..."

"It'll be fine. Please, Madam..."

"All right... if you think it will help. I'll just be..." Remus suddenly heard a knock at the door. "Oh, bother," said Madam Pomfrey. "Four in the morning? I don't dare imagine who that could be."

"It's Professor Questus," said Remus, befuddled.

Madam Pomfrey practically rolled her eyes into her skull, and Remus almost laughed. "Well, this is going to be awful," she muttered. "Wish me luck."

"Good luck," Remus whispered, and watched as she left her office and shut the door.

He knew that it wasn't very nice to eavesdrop, but he couldn't help it as he paced rounds around the room. His head was pounding, and he just didn't have the energy to try to block anything out.

"Is Lupin here?" asked Questus.

"Of course. Obviously. Where else would he be?"

Remus cringed a little and simultaneously smiled at Madam Pomfrey's very clear hatred for Questus. It was a bit humorous, if not very uncomfortable.

"May I speak with him?"

"Seeing as it's four in the morning and he's ill, I'm inclined to say no."

Questus sighed, and Remus heard the rustling noises of parchment. "Missed opportunity to say I'm inclined to decline," Questus muttered, and Remus giggled a little. The parchment rustled a bit more, and Remus supposed that he was handing the parchment—whatever it was—to Madam Pomfrey. There was a moment of silence, and then Questus said: "I was sent by Dumbledore to speak with him. Dumbledore is currently busy trying to get it repealed."

Remus heard Madam Pomfrey inhale sharply, and his heart dropped. Repealed? A law? Probably something about werewolves. "Are you sure you're the best person to do that?" she asked.

"Speak to him, you mean? Seeing as I know the Ministry like the back of my hand, and seeing as I've spent hours upon hours teaching him to duel, I believe I am." Questus' tone was a little frosty.

"John! You can't just spring that on him the day of the full moon! It'll be worse if he's stressed!"

"You'd rather he worry about it all day and not know what it is? I have no doubt that he can hear us speaking." There was a pause. Remus tried to look innocent, even though no one else was in the room to admire his act. "Furthermore," continued Questus, "I have faith in his abilities to control his emotions."

Remus almost laughed. That was quite possibly the most inaccurate statement he had ever heard in his life.

"Fine," said Madam Pomfrey. "Remus, is that okay?"

Remus ceased his pacing and sat down on his bed. "I suppose I can make room in my schedule, Madam Pomfrey," he called, and he heard Questus snort a bit in amusement from the other room.

A moment later, Professor Questus opened the door and raised his eyebrows. "You look awful."

"Blame my parents. It's genetics."

"Mind your cheek. I'll excuse it, seeing as I bring bad news that you're definitely not going to like. That's punishment enough."

"Another law?" said Remus tentatively.

"Yes." He pulled a chair over to the bed. It was a lot less awkward talking to someone, Remus noted, when he was sitting sideways with his legs swung over the side of the bed rather than under the covers. "The attack last month led the Ministry to take more precautions. Here." He handed Remus a piece of official-looking parchment. "This owl came from the Ministry for you, but Dumbledore was expecting it and read it first to get the details. Right now he's at the Ministry arguing your side."

Remus was trying to read and listen to Professor Questus at the same time, and it wasn't really working. So he stopped listening.

Remus John Lupin,

Due to the recent werewolf attack, the Ministry of Magic sees it prudent to take more precautions regarding lycanthropic individuals. Starting today, more guidelines will be imposed that such individuals must follow:
a) young werewolves must be homeschooled in order to prevent the infection of humans,
b) werewolves may not leave the country without express Ministry of Magic approval,
c) romantic relationships involving werewolves are strictly prohibited,
and d) the frequency of Registry check-ins will be increased to three times a year.
The danger that your species poses to the human race makes it absolutely paramount to control the number of humans with whom you come into contact. Please owl us if you have any questions pertaining to these guidelines.

Sincerely,

Eugenia Jenkins

Minister for Magic

Remus blinked and re-read it. "They can't be serious."

"Unfortunately, they are. Jenkins doesn't know what to do with Dark magic. Terrible Minister, if you ask me."

"It... it says that it starts today. Do I have to go home right now?"

Questus shook his head. "Don't worry about it. Dumbledore's sorting it out."

Remus felt tears build up in his eyes, but he refused to let them fall. "That first one is targeted towards me! I'm the only werewolf in Britain who goes to school!"

"What about primary schools?"

"Primary schools aren't... safe. Young ones can't deal with it properly."

"Hm. Because of the nature of... that's interesting. You'll have to tell me more about that later..."

"Absolutely not," cut in Madam Pomfrey. "Remus, don't panic. Professor Dumbledore can fix most anything."

"What if..."

"None of that, now," said Madam Pomfrey sternly. "He will."

"Technically, you don't know that," said Questus. "The Ministry might refuse to change their mind. Lupin could have to go home." He checked the letter again. "If that happens, I'd be glad to continue your lessons over the summer. Maybe even weekends during the school year."

"You would?" Remus grinned. "That's..."

"Dumbledore will sort it out," said Madam Pomfrey again. "And it's not very nice of Professor Questus to say otherwise."

"It's true," said Questus. "I'm not very nice at all. Here, let me see that letter again."

Remus handed the letter to him and watched him read it, while Madam Pomfrey did so over his shoulder. Her mouth tightened into a thinner and thinner line, but Professor Questus' expression remained unchanged.

"They shouldn't say things like that," said Madam Pomfrey. "The second-to-last sentence—they can't say that to a child. To anyone."

"They're the Ministry, they can do whatever they want," Questus scoffed. "And I'm sure Lupin's used to it. Hey, if you changed Hogwarts to your current place of residence, then you'd technically be homeschooling. I'm sure Dumbledore would allow it."

"I couldn't do that to my parents, sir."

"No, I suppose not. You're not in a romantic relationship, are you?"

"...No."

"Makes sense. You're eleven."

"They're horrid laws," said Madam Pomfrey. "That can't be allowed!"

Questus sighed and turned to face her. "The Ministry is powerful, Pomfrey. The Ministry can do whatever it wants. Even though the laws are cruel and useless, the fact remains that they are allowed to pass them—without pushback from the public, even, since most everybody hates werewolves."

"How? How would anyone think that's okay?"

"Wouldn't you have thought that it was reasonable before you met Lupin? Or given it much thought at all? You know, I would have been all for it last summer. Werewolves are a right nuisance as an Auror."

Madam Pomfrey did not respond to that, and Remus wondered if she really would have supported the law before she'd met Remus. Probably. Remus couldn't blame her. "Still," said Madam Pomfrey, which was a word that very much implied an affirmative answer. "It's terrible."

"There was a werewolf attack," said Questus in a tone that suggested he thought Madam Pomfrey was very stupid. "People died. And the Ministry wants to convince people that they're doing something about it. But it's not beneficial whatsoever, is it, Lupin? The problem is the Unregistered werewolves; imposing more laws on the Registered ones is just nonsense."

Remus nodded. "Yeah. But it's not the first time. They've passed laws like that before, but most werewolf-related laws don't even last a month. The Ministry is pretty light in terms of werewolf laws, because they're... afraid of protests from werewolves."

Questus snorted. "Yeah, that sums it up. All the werewolves would have to do would be to position themselves near a Ministry worker on the full moon, and..."

Remus felt a little ill, seeing as that was exactly what Greyback had done to Remus' father, a Ministry worker, nearly seven years ago.

"Stop it!" snapped Madam Pomfrey. "They shouldn't be doing this!"

"Don't get me wrong; I agree," said Questus. "I'm not arguing their case. But technically, their job is to protect humans, not..."

Before Remus could even blink, Madam Pomfrey had pulled out her wand. Questus had pulled out his a millisecond later, and Remus noted that his reaction time was very impressive. Remus had never be able to do that. "Remus is my patient, and if you're going to keep upsetting him, you can leave," Madam Pomfrey hissed.

"I'm fine, Madam Pomfrey!" said Remus. Madam Pomfrey, it looked like, didn't even have the presence of mind to drop a cap in the jar—in fact, she acted as if she had not heard him at all. Perhaps she hadn't. She just stood there, eyes and wand trained on Questus, who stared back in a bit of a bored manner as if he hadn't a care in the world.

"We are in the middle of a war," said Questus coolly. "Young and innocent children do not remain so, and the Dark Arts don't wait..."

"For anyone, yes, I know! But we're not in the middle of a war!"

"We are. Voldemort is..."

"You-Know-Who is a passing fad. Wait two years; it'll die!"

"It will not. He's..."

"Look, just..." Madam Pomfrey spluttered. "Just leave. Remus needs sleep."

"All right." Professor Questus tucked his wand back into his robes, and Remus was relieved. He really didn't want to witness a duel in the Hospital Wing, especially not between two people that he liked. He wouldn't even know who to support.

Questus turned to Remus and shrugged. "Sorry about the whole mess with the Ministry," he said. "You'll be alerted as soon as there are any updates."

Then he left, slamming the door slightly.

Madam Pomfrey fumed for twenty minutes.

AN: Terribly sorry to do this on a bit of a cliffhanger, but I'm afraid I won't be able to update for a couple of weeks—two or three, perhaps, but maybe a bit sooner, depending. I'm in England visiting family right now and trying to make the most of the visit before I have to go home! So... see you in a few weeks! I promise I'll be back!