Remus was helping Peter with his homework in the common room—Peter had come to him telling him that he needed help with his DAD essay, and who was Remus to refuse? He'd been feeling a little distant from his friends ever since he'd lost his cool at the Whomping Willow, and he so desperately wanted everything to return to normal.

"Where are Sirius and James?" Remus asked, underlining a misspelled word in Peter's essay.

Peter scratched out the word and wrote the correct spelling. "Out and about," he said ambiguously.

Remus laughed, figuring that they were probably playing some sort of prank. "I don't like the sound of that. Which teacher are they hexing this time? And what happened to your finger?"

"They're not hexing anyone. And I cut it."

"Hm." Remus wasn't really sure he believed Peter on the topic of James and Sirius. "Hey, I think you have Vermillious and Verdimillious mixed up. Vermillious is red sparks; Verdimillious is green."

"I can't remember that!" groused Peter. "They're too close together."

"Well, Verdimillious has got a D in it, and it's green sparks... what green things start with D?"

"Er... dinosaurs?"

"Yeah! What about dill pickles? American dollar bills? Some varieties of dragons?"

"And dandelions... well, the green part."

"And a dead lizard."

"And a dead Slytherin!"

Remus laughed, even though he didn't find it all that funny. "Right, dead Slytherins. So that's how you can remember that Verdimillious is green."

Suddenly, Remus sensed James and Sirius coming near the door. The pair of them Knocked on the door overenthusiastically, and Remus rolled his eyes. "Come in," said Peter.

"Remus!" cried Sirius. "We know! We've solved it! We know what's wrong with you! It's werewolves!"

The world stopped.

Remus' heart stopped.

This was the end of the line, then.

Why was he still breathing? Why were they still looking at him? Remus suddenly realized that it wasn't over, not yet... he still had to function like a normal person, even if they knew what he was. And perhaps he could still deny it. "You... you have?" he stuttered. "What does that mean? I told you, my mum is ill..." He couldn't keep the panic out of his voice.

This was it. He was going to have to go home and never see his friends again. The magic of Hogwarts was going to be gone in a few short minutes. No more Hagrid. No more DAD. No more Questus or Dumbledore or Madam Pomfrey. No more friends. Just the monotony of his old life, interrupted only by trips to the Registry and painful transformations. No more classes. He felt tears rise to his eyes, but he resolved that he would not let them fall.

Now this was the end.

But why weren't his friends afraid? Why were they still standing in his presence? Why weren't they angry and hostile?

Perhaps... no. Remus didn't dare hope.

"Yeah, your mum's... ill," said James, curling his hands into finger-quotes around the word ill. "She's a werewolf, isn't she?"

The world stopped again. Remus managed to make a small squeaking noise before James started talking again.

"It makes sense. You look poorly and pale before a full moon because you're half-werewolf. You have to go home during the full moons because you're helping her through the transformations or something... maybe keeping her under control or helping her after or something. You don't talk about her much because you're afraid we'll find out. You're always ill because of lack of sleep. Professor Questus is trying to find a cure, but there's no known cure for lycanthropy, is there?"

"How... no!" said Remus. Curse his squeaky voice. "That's stupid! I... how would I help her through a transformation? Wouldn't she kill me?"

"Werewolves only attack humans," said James triumphantly. "But you're half-werewolf, not completely human, so your mum won't attack you. But you get scratches sometimes from her claws, don't you?"

Remus shook his head. It was a disgusting, horrible thought to imagine his mum as a werewolf, and Remus couldn't do it. He thought he might vomit.

"And that's why you act weird when we talk about werewolves," James continued. "And that's why you knew there wasn't a werewolf in the Shrieking Shack—because you know what a werewolf sounds like. And that's why Sirius' dad saw you and your family at the Werewolf Registry in January..."

It was over. It was all over.

Remus definitely couldn't recover from this.

He couldn't even comprehend the situation. He felt like he was underwater or watching from a distance. How was he supposed to bounce back?

No... he had to keep going. He had to remember how to speak English. He had to remember how to breathe. And he had to choose a logical course of action. He could do that, couldn't he?

Remus considered letting them believe that his mum was a werewolf, just for a split second. Half-werewolf was better than full-werewolf, wasn't it? Maybe they'd let him stay, or at least leave quietly.

But no. He couldn't let them believe that his mum was a monster. That wasn't right. That wasn't something he would wish on his worst enemy—and definitely not his mum. That was no way to repay her for years of patching him up and taking care of him. He could not out her as a werewolf in good conscience, even if it meant giving away his secret.

If Remus denied it all, then he would be placing them on the right track. If Remus denied it all, then he probably only had a few months left at most. If Remus denied it all, then they might even come to the correct conclusion right then and there. But Remus couldn't tell them that his mum was a werewolf... so he took a breath and carried out his own sentence.

He tried to laugh, and it came surprisingly naturally. "My mum's not a werewolf," he said, and his calm, even voice was a pleasant surprise. "That's ridiculous. I love her, remember?"

"Can't you love a werewolf?" said James.

Fiddlesticks. What was he supposed to say to that? "Of course not," he said, internally cringing as he did so. "They're terrifying—at least the pictures I've seen. We've all seen pictures, haven't we?" Remus pulled out a picture of his mum; he'd been saving this one for this moment. His mum had been tired from taking care of him all day. She'd been sleeping on the couch. Her face was pale from exhaustion and there were bags under her eyes. She looked very ill indeed, so it was the perfect proof. "Look, here she is. Does she look like a werewolf? Does she look like the pictures?"

"Well..." James' face grew pensive. "I suppose not. She looks too frail and nice. But Dad says they look like normal humans, most of the time."

"Maybe they do. But my mum's not a werewolf... I think I would know. Also, there's no such thing as a half-werewolf. Either you are or you're not."

"Then why were you at the Werewolf Registry?"

Remus attempted a casual eyeroll. "My dad works at the D.R.C.M.C., remember? He was stationed there, and I had to tag along because... well, I've been ill all my life, and my parents sort of baby me. They don't let me stay home alone very often." That was more to write in his novel... and it was also true. Remus had never been home alone before.

"And why are you always ill around the full moon?" James asked, nose wrinkled in confusion. "Sirius and I wrote down all the dates we could remember, and most of them aligned perfectly with the lunar cycle. Not all of them, but the vast majority of them did."

"Er..." Remus had been rehearsing this excuse. "Since my dad works at the D.R.C.M.C., he's always busier around full moons—you know, because of all the werewolf attacks—and I have to go home and take care of Mum for him sometimes. And there are some potions that brew better under a full moon that I have to help with." Remus shook his head. "I know I'm not the best friend ever, but I wouldn't lie to you like that for months on end. I trust you a little more than that."

His friends seemed to believe his blatant lie. "So your mum's not a werewolf?" said James. "Aw. I was hoping she was. That's kinda cool, isn't it?"

"Cool?" said Remus faintly. "It's not cool." He suddenly had a thought. "I bet you'd be pretty excited if she was."

"Oh, yeah!" said James. "I've never met a werewolf before."

"I bet you'd even... even want to meet her?"

"Absolutely."

Remus' heart fluttered.

"Not me," said Sirius flatly. "I'm personally very relieved. That would be awful. I don't think I could share a room with a half-werewolf, even though you're brilliant. I'm glad you're Remus, not half-werewolf-Remus. I like you just the way you are."

I like you just the way you are. Sirius' words were kind on the surface, and he was probably trying to be nice (which was, for Sirius, a rarity). Yet, despite Sirius' intentions, all of Remus' hope immediately evaporated. He came back to reality with a jolt so sharp that he was nearly knocked over by the force of it. "Yeah, I'd hate to be half-werewolf. Even though they don't exist," he said quietly. "Sorry to disappoint, James. I'm not that interesting, and neither is my mum. You know, I'm pretty tired now. Long day. I'm going to bed."

He drew his curtains shut, pulled the covers to his chin, and squeezed his eyes shut. It was only a matter of time.

They.

Were.

Going.

To.

Find.

Out.

It wasn't until ten minutes later that he heard it—just a small whisper coming from Peter's bed. "I'd be your friend, even if you were half-werewolf," said Peter softly.

The hope returned, but Remus pushed it down before it could blossom into delusion.

The next day was Saturday. He got up at seven am sharp and went to the DAD room immediately. The Merlin portrait was awake, so he gave it a polite nod and knocked on the door. "Professor? Professor Questus?" he called.

Professor Questus opened the door. He was wearing his spectacles, and it was obvious that he hadn't combed his hair yet. "Lupin? It's seven in the morning."

"Were... were you sleeping? Oh, I'm so sorry..."

"I wasn't sleeping. I was reading. What on earth is wrong?"

"I... they thought that my mum was... and then I... and now they...!"

"Oh, do calm down. Come in. Sit down. All that jazz. Do you need tea?"

Remus nodded vehemently before entering the classroom and collapsing into a chair. Questus, who had already made himself some tea, poured Remus a mugful—but Remus was too distraught to drink anything, so the mug of tea was left ignored. "I was worrying all night and I can't think what to do but they're going to find out and all I can do is wait and I hate it!" Remus babbled, perfectly aware that he wasn't making any sense.

"Slow down. Start from the beginning."

Remus sighed and pulled the Booklet of Lies out of his pocket to show Questus. "I've been lying to my friends for a long time now, and it's started to get very complicated," he explained. "I started writing my lies down and reading them every night so that I don't contradict myself. Here, this is the rough bulleted summary." Remus thrust the Booklet towards Questus, who took it and started reading. He looked amused. That wasn't really the reaction Remus was hoping for... what reaction was he hoping for...? He didn't actually know.

"Very thorough," chuckled Questus finally. "What's the problem?"

"As you can see, I told them that my mum was ill."

"Right."

"They... er... came to a conclusion."

"They know you're a werewolf?" said Questus, his face immediately hardening. "They didn't treat you badly, did they? Did they say anything? Are you sure that they know?"

"They don't know," said Remus. "Not yet. They came to the wrong conclusion. They think that... er, they think that my mum is a werewolf."

Questus slowly looked over the bulleted list, and a smile spread across his face. Then he started to laugh. "Merlin's beard, that is priceless! It really does look like that. That's... oh, that's excellent."

"It's not excellent! They're only a little ways away from finding out!"

"No, this is good. You realize that this is a very, very solid excuse, right? It would explain everything on here—all the questions that they'd ever have. And your mum being a werewolf is a lot more acceptable than your being one. They could still be your friends. This is good."

"I... told them it wasn't true."

Questus froze. "You idiot," he said bluntly. "You absolute imbecile. I thought you were brighter than that. Have you taken leave of your senses entirely?"

That seemed harsh, even for Questus. "Er... no?"

"You realize that they just came up with an answer that would have explained everything away? Everything on this list. Everything. And you refuted it?" Questus shook his head in exasperation, and he looked more annoyed than Remus had seen him in a long time. "They're clever, and they know they're onto something. Their minds are going to be stuck on 'werewolf'... and now that you've told them it's not a family member... I'd say you have a few months, max."

"I know, but I couldn't let them think that Mum's a werewolf! I tried to explain it all away, but I'm not sure I did a very good job..."

"Of course you could have let them think that your mother is a werewolf! That's infinitely better than the alternative, and I'm sure your mother wouldn't mind! She's not even in the wizarding community, so a few rumors wouldn't hurt her even if it did get out. And you could have earned a pass to disappear on the full moon without raising questions, for them to treat the topic of werewolves with sensitivity, to have them get used to the idea of werewolves being people in case they do ever find you out. You even could have convinced them that you're half-werewolf or something, and that's why your senses are so good. You could have explained away every iota of it. What delusions of nobility possessed you to do such a thing?"

"I can't let them believe that! I know how it is; I know how people treat me! If they decided not to keep it a secret, and if it got out... especially to Orion Black!... then my mother's life would be completely ruined, even though she is a Muggle. She'd be a social outcast. I can't do that to her, not when it's me who deserves it. Why would I go off and spread false rumors about my mum being a literal monster? I couldn't!"

Questus raised an eyebrow. "Literal monster?"

"That's not what I meant."

"Hm." He shrugged and leaned back into his chair. "If you're looking to garner sympathy, I don't know why you came to me."

"I don't want sympathy, sir!"

"Then what do you want?"

"I want you to tell me what to do!"

"You already know what I want you to do. I think that you should let them believe that your mother is a werewolf. I think that your mother would be happy to sacrifice her own reputation for your happiness. And I think that all of your friends are good people and will keep it a secret, so you won't even have to worry about it. It's so simple, and it'll take a lot of stress off your plate."

"What should I do if I don't want to do that?"

Questus rolled his eyes. "What did you tell them? How did you explain away their suspicions?"

"I told them that I normally leave on or around the full moon because my father works at the D.R.C.M.C., so there are more werewolf attacks that he has to take care of and I have to care for my mum. And that some potions that she needs are best brewed under moonlight."

"Good. And the scratches and bruises?"

Remus tried to remember what he had said, but found that he could not. "I... don't think I said anything about that."

"I don't know what you could have said. Do you think they believed you?"

"Yeah, but... they're clever."

"Yes, they are. But your excuse was clever as well. Try to come up with more ways to explain things if they happen to ask. Other than that, the only thing you can do is wait. If you think they suspect, let me know."

"I'm afraid to talk to them again."

"Ugh, not this again. Look at me." Remus looked up and met Questus' eyes. "You're a werewolf. People—and yourself as well, apparently—view you as a 'literal monster'. You're not going to have many friends, I'm afraid. So there is no point—I'll repeat that: no point!—in throwing away the small number of friends that you'll only have for a few months. Maybe a year or two if you're lucky. Children your age need friends—it's important for psychological development. Don't worry about keeping them forever; just stretch it out as long as you can."

"I have friends besides them. I have Hagrid. I have my mum. And my dad. You're kind of my friend."

Questus snorted. "I am not your friend," he said. "Sorry to disappoint. I am your teacher. Definitely not a proper friend. And your parents are your parents—good ones, I hope, but also not proper friends. And Hagrid is Hagrid. He's only friends with the animals."

Remus, who was technically and socially an animal, crossed his arms.

"Oh, that seemed terribly insensitive, didn't it? Ah, I don't care. We both know that I didn't mean it like that. My point is, this is your chance to be around people your age, and you're squandering it out of fear. Fear is stupid. Now get out of my classroom and find your friends. The less time you spend with them, the more aloof and mysterious you seem. You've been spending far too much time with adults and you're starting to act like one. Out."

Remus stood up to leave. "Thank you, sir," he said reluctantly.

"You're welcome. I'm just a fountain of wisdom, aren't I? And don't let your friends forget that they have detention with me on the twenty-ninth."

"They won't forget, Professor."

"And you have lessons with me on Tuesday."

"Yes, sir."

"One more thing. Expelliarmus."

"Protego!"

Remus looked at his wand in awe, which was still in his hand. That was the first time he'd ever been able to block an honest-to-goodness surprise attack with a fully-formed Protego.

"Very well done," said Questus. "Expelliarmus."

Remus did not act quickly enough this time, and the wand clattered out of his hand. "What was that for?" he asked. "I'd already blocked it once!"

"I don't like to lose. Now go be an eleven-year-old child while you still can or I'll tell Madam Pomfrey that you're too stressed and you need a Calming Draught."

Remus left as quickly as possible.

"Quidditch game today!" crowed James. "Oi, Remus, where were you? It's time to don your Quidditch apparel so that we can watch Gryffindor vs. Slytherin: the best game of the year! There's gonna be a wild party in the common room when we win, but..." He stopped and glanced at Remus. "I was thinking we could do something else."

"Instead of watching the game?"

"Absolutely not. Nice try. I mean instead of the party. I had an idea the other day."

Remus crossed his arms. "Is it like your Whomping Willow idea? I told you: you pull that one more time and I'm going to Dumbledore."

"Nah. It'll be fun."

"What if we lose?"

"We won't lose. It's Slytherin. Come on, get changed!"

Remus retreated behind his curtains and pulled his Gryffindor jumper over his head. By now, all the other Marauders had matching ones (courtesy of James' mother). There was something wonderful about wearing matching clothes with all of his friends—almost like he was automatically accepted just because of what he was wearing.

The game was brilliant, as expected (in spite of the cold weather). Sirius managed to get a picture of James leaning so far over the side of the stands that he was nearly falling out of them. This resulted in a tussling match between the two of them, of which Peter managed to snap a picture when Sirius wasn't looking. Remus and Peter giggled at their friends' antics, which were far more interesting than watching a red ball get knocked around a field.

Suddenly, there was a sudden influx of high-pitched screaming. Remus slapped his hands over his ears, afraid that his brain would burst from the noise. "James! What's going on?"

James said something that Remus didn't understand. "What?"

James looked annoyed, made a shushing motion, and then continued to scream. Remus plugged his ears with his fingers as best he could and tried to ignore the splitting headache that was forming.

Suddenly, there came an earsplitting cry from the Slytherin stands. "Did they win?" said Remus cautiously.

"Yeah." James kicked a rock. Then his face brightened. "But that's four years in a row that Gryffindor has lost! Now I can pull the team out of a losing streak when I finally join the team! Instant fame and glory, here I come!"

"So are we still doing the thing?" Sirius asked.

"What thing...? Oh, that thing. Absolutely! Let's go!"

Remus grinned and let his friends pull him away from the screaming mass of Slytherins and towards whatever stupid idea James had now. They had dropped the issue of Remus' mother completely.

For how long Remus did not know, but he would do what Professor Questus had suggested and stretch out the present for as long as possible.

AN: Shoutout to one of my AO3 reviewers, Fishing94, who totally guessed the "wrong conclusion" that Remus' friends came up with :)