It was the morning of the full moon, and James Potter—for once in his life—wasn't exactly sure what to do.

He'd sat with a very ill-looking Remus in the Gryffindor common room. He'd helped him write a letter to John (he'd thought it might cheer Remus up). He'd tried to be peppy and kind and helpful and all that. He'd fetched things for Remus. He'd helped Remus all he could. He'd watched Remus stumble towards the Hospital Wing, a heavy stone forming in the pit of his stomach. And then—only after Remus was completely out of sight—James had stood up slowly and started walking back to his dormitory.

It was still early—too early. Remus didn't usually wake up this early on full moons, did he? It was always before five am, but not at three. James, who was a very light sleeper and always woke up when his friends did, knew this. So was something different this month? Was something wrong this month? And had Remus always looked this awful on the full moon? Had James really been so unobservant that he hadn't noticed?

Maybe that was it. Perhaps Remus always looked that awful on full moon days, but James had just never noticed—after all, Remus' health had been in steady decline over the past few days (James had been watching carefully), and gradual things were always more difficult to notice. And James had never before known about Remus on a full moon day, either, so perhaps that had something to do with it. He'd never, ever watched Remus as closely as he had that morning.

And, upon watching his friend more closely than a gardener watches a garden gnome, James had noticed that Remus looked ill. Really ill.

His handwriting had been shaky, his face had been dead pale, his hands had been trembling, and he'd looked like he was going to be sick the whole time. He'd been shivering from the fever, his eyes had been bloodshot, and he'd looked thinner than ever. If Remus had ever looked like that before, James hadn't noticed. He kept making excuses in his head—I've noticed it before, I've just never known why. He's never stuck around the day before a full moon before. It's always dark when I see him on full moon mornings. I've never spent this much time with him and him alone—but the truth was that James Potter, despite his extraordinary cleverness, just hadn't been paying much attention to anyone but himself, and that was sort of a git move on his part.

He opened the door to the dormitory (doing his Secret Marauder Knock very lightly, because that was just procedure) and flopped back onto his bed, staring at Remus' empty four-poster. Yeah, James felt pretty awful. And worried, too, which was a bit of a weird thing for a twelve-year-old Gryffindor to feel. But no matter. Everything was going to be fine. Everything always worked out for James Potter, so he had nothing to worry about.

Right?

"James?" came Sirius' half-asleep voice. "Did you just sneak out without me?"

"Yep," said James.

James heard rustling as Sirius got out of bed. "You prat! Did you see Peeves? Did you play a prank? What happened?"

"I..." James pulled back his curtains a bit more to see Sirius better. "I was with Remus, actually. He was feeling ill, so I... sat with him and talked for a bit, and then I helped him to the Hospital Wing."

Sirius' eyes went comically wide, even though James was certain he had no idea it was a full moon. Sirius didn't keep track of things like that. Why would he? He had no idea that Remus was a werewolf. "He was ill?" cried Sirius, his eyebrows practically higher than the Astronomy Tower. "You should have woken me!"

"I had it under control. I think less people was better for him."

"Then you should have let me do it instead of you!"

"Why? I think I understand far better than you do, mate. No offense, but you're a little... brash, sometimes."

"I sincerely doubt that you understand better than I do, James," said Sirius, his arms crossed.

James felt a little nauseous. What would happen when Sirius finally found out about Remus? James trusted Sirius with all of his heart, of course, but... what if? James liked the four of them together, and he didn't want anything to happen to their little club... all the more reason to keep Remus' secret, James supposed.

"Look, it's over and done with," said James with a heavy sigh. "He's resting now."

"We should go see him."

"Don't think he'd like that."

"We should anyway."

"Yeah, we should."

There was a long silence, and James felt the bedsprings creak as Sirius sat next to him. He sat up and drew his knees to his chest. Everything felt so somber today. He couldn't stop thinking about Remus... about Remus getting that ill every month... Merlin's beard. A life like that was pretty awful, and James couldn't imagine.

"He looked ill, too? How bad was it?" asked Sirius anxiously, breaking the silence. James was happy that Sirius seemed to care about Remus' well-being at the moment, but he still had doubts about that sympathy's longevity. Sirius wasn't a sympathetic person by nature, and he had no reason to trust a werewolf... how long would it be until the Marauders split up for good?

"It looked really bad," confessed James. "But he seemed well enough to hold off on the Hospital Wing for a bit. We wrote a letter to John Questus—a few loose sheets are probably in your notebook. Remus still had his sense of humor. Teasing me. Bantering. He just looked ill, and it kinda hurt just to watch him." To tell the truth, the fact that Remus could function so well, as ill as he was, made James feel worse. Remus really did go through that all the time. That was unthinkable.

"Good," said Sirius. "Well, not good. But all the same."

"Yeah."

"And you still think it's okay that he's lying to us?"

"Yeah, I do. I trust him. There must be a reason he didn't tell us, and I'm willing to respect that, hm?"

"Me too."

"Remus would never hurt us on purpose. Ever. He'd be all torn up about it if he hurt us on accident, even."

Sirius made a little noise of agreement.

"He's a better person than the lot of us," continued James.

"You have no idea," said Sirius, smiling.

But James did.

James went to the library straight after class ended, which was a horrific activity that he typically tried to avoid at all costs. But this was a last resort.

It was raining now, so he couldn't practice for Quidditch tryouts coming up. The only thing left to do, therefore, was research werewolves—and, now that Remus was gone, James could pick out a few new werewolf books without Remus getting all panicked.

James' Library Disguise (a disguise intended to keep people from seeing him in the library and getting the wrong impression, because James was not the bookish type) typically consisted of sunglasses, a floppy hat, and colored hair. But Remus knew about James' library disguise, and James was sort of afraid that Remus would pop out of nowhere and recognize James' flamboyant outfit immediately, because James had no idea how long Remus would be in the Hospital Wing. So, fueled by this logic, James switched out his Library Disguise for Library Disguise 2.0: a sombrero, a fake moustache, and a long, blond wig.

He made his way towards an open table, and he couldn't avoid a bit of a swagger—because Merlin's beard, this wig made him feel like a Veela—and, just as James was considering making the hair change permanent, he promptly caught sight of the last person that he expected to see. "Sirius?!" he cried.

"James?!" cried Sirius, and he sounded even more horrified than James was. "Why are you dressed like that? That's not your normal Library Disguise!"

"Well... it's important, trust me. I know what I'm doing. There's a reason. James Potter doesn't do anything without a reason."

"Except for the time when you tried to swallow a minnow and the time you threw Amelia Hashover's cat into the tree and the time you tried to balance all your things on your head as you walked to class and the time you insisted on giving Argus Filch a romantic ride on your broomstick and he declined, obviously, and then you got detention for a week..."

"There were reasons for all of those things, old friend. The reason was chaos. My point is, I need to be here."

"Wha...? Why? Are you doing a prank?"

"Yes," said James grandly. "A prank. Yes. A big prank." He looked to his left and saw Peter poring over a textbook. "Aw, man. All of us are here?"

"I suppose... all except Remus. Why are you planning a prank without me?"

"Why are you in the library?"

"What are you two doing here?" said Peter, lifting his head. "S'that you, James?"

"No!'

"Yes!"

"Maybe!"

"Shhhhhh!" said Madam Pince, and the three present Marauders immediately shut up. Madam Pince, however, did not. "Out of my library!" she hissed. "Potter! Black! You two are incapable of being quiet! Go somewhere else!"

James did a salute, grabbed Sirius' arm, and pulled him out of the library. Peter, who looked a bit sour at being completely ignored by both Madam Pince and his friends, followed.

It was the day of the full moon, and Sirius Black, like usual, had a lot of questions for James.

"Where are you taking me?" cried Sirius, wresting himself from James' grip. "Where are you going in a hurry? And why were you in the library?"

Sirius had been in the library because he'd wanted a book on werewolves, but he couldn't tell James that. He'd have to admit that James was right about the whole werewolf-thing... at least partially. What was worse, Sirius would also have to admit to wanting a book, which was definitely not an item that Sirius typically coveted. And also—as he constantly reminded himself—making Remus trust them was Sirius' responsibility. Not James'. Sirius had been the one to mess it all up—not James—so Sirius would be the one to fix it—not James—because Sirius was his own person—he wasn't James.

Sirius' question was answered when the three of them arrived in front of the dormitory. They did the Secret Marauder Knock before entering (as per protocol), and then Sirius tried to shut the door behind him... but he'd forgotten Peter was there and slammed it into Peter's nose. Peter yelped.

"Oops, sorry," said Sirius.

Peter made a little moaning noise and shut the door gently. "It's all right, Sirius. I think maybe it's bleeding, though."

"You'll be fine."

They sat on the carpet, and there was dead silence.

James was picking at his nails, Peter was holding his nose... and Sirius was staring at Remus' empty bed.

He knew it was his responsibility to keep Remus' secret, but he hated keeping secrets. He so desperately wanted to talk to James about it. He wanted to help Remus together, because group projects were always so much more fun than individual ones.

Sirius Black had been alone all his life. He'd never had anyone to talk to... and here James was! Why was he keeping this a secret, again?! That made him no better than Remus—it made him worse than Remus, actually, because Remus had a reason to keep his secret. Sirius had no reason not to trust James. He just didn't want the group to split up... he didn't want James to yell at him for saying mean things about werewolves in the past... and he wanted to fix this on his own. But, all the same... he trusted James, didn't he? And something had to be done. Something had to change. For all of their sakes.

"James," said Sirius in a low voice, hardly daring to believe that he was actually saying it out loud. So much for his undercover superhero mission. "I think I know what's wrong with Remus."

He watched James' face carefully, but James didn't really react much—he just sort of sagged, sighed, and looked at the ground. "Yeah, me too," said James. "Was wondering when you'd finally figure it out. Your behavior's been kinda weird lately, so I figured you were on the right track."

Sirius had not been expecting that at all. "What?"

"I've known for a while." James looked up at Sirius again and gave him a sort of apologetic shrug. "I didn't know how you'd react—not exactly, anyhow. And I was afraid to ruin things. I have friends at home, but you... I mean, the Marauders are what I've been dreaming about. I've always wanted to go to Hogwarts and be popular and play Quidditch and be in a secret club, and this is everything I ever wanted. I didn't want it to end just because Remus was lying sometimes."

Lying sometimes was an understatement, but Sirius' head was still reeling too much from the information to argue. "You've known... for a while?"

"Mm-hm. That's why I always wanted to be the one to help him when he was distressed. And he's distressed a lot, that oversensitive... well, I guess he's not oversensitive. He's going through a lot, I'm sure. But I knew what was wrong with him—or at least I could guess. You're okay with it, right?"

"What? Of course I'm okay with it! I actually—"

"Good. It's not that I didn't trust you, but... oh, Merlin's beard, it kind of was. Not not-trust, exactly, but... I'm sorry! I shouldn't have kept it from you, because I do trust you... but I was so scared. I'm sorry. You don't have to forgive me..."

It was a little disturbing to see James so distraught and guilty; he was usually as cool as a cucumber. Sirius held up a hand and sighed—Remus' secret seemed to be having a negative effect on all of them. "James. I've known for a while, too, and I was keeping it from you."

They stared at each other in silence for a bit.

"So... both of us thought that we were the only ones who knew?" said James. "Both of us felt that with the burden of information came the responsibility of helping... and both of us were trying to keep the revelation away from the other... and both of us were lying to each other to protect Remus?"

"That about sums it up," said Sirius.

Peter shifted from his spot on the floor. Sirius had forgotten he was there again, but it wasn't his fault that Peter was relatively uninteresting and forgettable. "Er... what's wrong with Remus? Must have missed it," Peter said.

And then James and Sirius erupted into peals of laughter.

"He's... rubbing off... on us!" James gasped. "All this... lying... and secret-keeping... and things!"

"It's contagious!" said Sirius. "I thought for... for sure you didn't know yet!"

"Me too!" said James. "Were we really... this whole time...!" He wiped his eyes fervently. "I've known since the day we went to the Forbidden Forest. When we were talking in the corridor—that's when I found out."

"I found out that day I was being mean to Remus," said Sirius. "Found that book in our trunk, and then it all came together."

"Ha! I found out first! I knew I would!"

"Ugh."

"Hey!" said Peter. "What's going on?"

"Shall we say it together?" said James. "Maybe we're both thinking different things. But I know I'm right; I'm always right."

"I know I'm right, too," said Sirius. "Count of three. One... two..."

"Remus is a werewolf!"

"I only counted to two, mate."

"I know, but I wanted to be the one to say it."

"Git."

Peter's eyes were wide—almost too wide. "What? Like... Remus? Our Remus? A werewolf? An actual werewolf? Not his mum?"

"Six questions in a row," said James. "That's a lot, but I think I've got this one. The answers are as follows: Remus is a werewolf, yes, yes, yes, yes, and apparently not."

"I... don't think so," said Peter, and Sirius rolled his eyes.

"Are you daft? The signs are all there. He gets ill around the full moon. Scars. Nightmares. Hearing. Panics when we mention werewolves. It all fits."

"But he's just Remus. He's not all... big and muscular and toothy. He's nice. He's patient. He reads. He's quiet. So he couldn't possibly be a werewolf, because he's so nice and perfect..."

"Werewolves can do all that," said James. "Dad says that werewolves are just like us, except on the full moon. It's like a disease rather than personality trait."

"But..."

Sirius sighed. "Peter, James and I are way brighter than you are. Remus is a werewolf. One hundred percent. Just trust us, okay? Ruminate on it in your tiny brain for the next few days. You'll see."

"Have you been having those tiny revelations, too, Sirius?" said James. "Every so often I'll remember something and think... oh! That's why he does that!"

"All the time! That bottle he keeps... silver and Dittany. For when he scratches himself accidentally, since werewolf wounds don't heal..."

"Oh, yeah! And John Questus must be one too, or at least an Animagus. That's why they were so close last year, and that's why John moved near Remus' house after he quit teaching! Keeping him under control and all that."

"That makes sense... and you know how Remus always covers his mouth when he smiles? He's probably hiding fangs or something."

"Ooh, that's cool. I'm pretty sure he doesn't feel pain around the full moon."

"Hm. You know, being a werewolf explains his overprotective parents."

"And how he... what was that phrase Pete used back in first year?... acts small. He seems uncomfortable a lot, you know? He's scared of us, I think. Scared of being found out, I reckon."

"Yeah, all my family hate werewolves." Sirius frowned. "I thought you'd be angry with me. Back before I knew, I said some terrible things about werewolves to Remus' face. That's why I didn't tell you earlier; I thought it was my responsibility to sort it all out."

James pursed his lips. "You kind of did say some terrible things, mate. But we can fix it. Now you've got me."

"And me," said Peter, who was still wide-eyed.

"You probably don't even know what's going on, Pettigrew." Sirius said, but then he quailed under James' look. "Right. I should be nice. Sorry."

"So..." said James, ruffling his hair nervously. "What now? Do we tell him?"

"I suppose," said Sirius. "Maybe after he gets back from the Hospital Wing?"

"I'm kinda scared to do it," confessed James. "I'm worried he'll get spooked. He's panicked about it all the time."

"Only because he thinks we won't like him," said Sirius.

"True, but... I think we need to plan it out carefully."

Sirius groaned. "Of course you'd say that."

"I like planning!"

"I knowww. But he needs someone to talk to, and I want to help him. I've been trying to drop hints, you know, really subtly, but..."

"You were not subtle, mate."

"Shut it, you."

"Let's wait until after Quidditch tryouts. I don't want that hanging over my head; I'll need to focus."

"Yeah, okay."

"Are you all right, Pete?" asked James. Peter's face was an odd shade of grey.

"Y-yeah."

"It's still Remus. He hasn't changed."

"I know. Just... just trying to figure out if you're pranking me, because this would be an excellent prank. You are, aren't you? And Remus is in on it? If you are, it's very elaborate, so well done..."

James sighed impatiently. "No! Remus is a werewolf! It makes sense!"

"Yeah, kind of... but he's Remus!"

"Uh-huh, exactly. Remus Lupin. Remus. Lupin. Both his first name and surname have things to do with wolves. Duh, Peter."

"I... suppose. You don't think he's dangerous?"

"Dangerous? Remus?" James stood up and crossed his arms. "Peter Pettigrew, you have known him for more than a year. He adores you. You idolize him. He helps you do homework and sits with you outside and talks to you. He defends you from me and Sirius when we get impatient. He likes you. How dare you even question him? He's REMUS!"

"Okay, okay!" After a quick pause, Peter held up his hands. "If you two trust him... then so do I. You're right. He's Remus."

"Good," said James. "Don't ever think anything else. He's a good friend."

Sirius nodded his agreement. He was glad that he wasn't bearing the weight of Remus' secret by himself anymore. Remus bore the weight of his secret all alone all the time—that was sad. For the first time ever, Sirius knew what it was like to have a horrible, terrible, ginormous secret... and he didn't like it one bit.

He couldn't wait until after Quidditch tryouts!

(And, at the same time, he was terrified. But Sirius wouldn't admit that to anyone, not even himself.)

No one asked Peter how he felt about it.

It was ages before anyone asked Peter. Peter's world had just been turned upside-down, but no one asked Peter. Peter's best friend was a... werewolf, and no one asked Peter what he thought about the whole fiasco. A werewolf? Really? Remus? It was such a big deal, but no one cared how Peter felt about it!

How did Peter feel, actually? He didn't know. Mostly just... weird. That was the only word for it. Weird, wrong, and left-out.

Sirius and James had known forever, and they didn't care at all. Did Peter care? He didn't know. He was frozen.

Werewolves were big and hulking and muscular, and Remus wasn't. Werewolves were bloodthirsty and mean and evil, and Remus wasn't. Werewolves would kill without a second thought, and Remus wouldn't. Remus was more kind, more patient, more helpful, and more human than anyone else that Peter knew. And they were saying that Remus was a werewolf anyway? Madness, that was what it was. Pure madness.

Peter was terrified of werewolves. But he wasn't terrified of Remus.

Couldn't Peter die, though? If Remus was a werewolf—sly and conniving and tricky—then he could strangle Peter in his sleep... or lead him somewhere quiet on a full moon... perhaps this was all an act! Peter couldn't blindly trust Remus like Sirius and James did. He wasn't brave! He wasn't clever like they were! He wouldn't stake his life on plain intuition, because he couldn't trust his intuition! Peter hated making decisions, and this was the biggest one he'd ever had to make.

Remus was lying the whole time? Weren't they best friends? Peter didn't understand it. Did the Remus that Peter knew and loved even exist? What was going on? What should he do? James and Sirius said that Remus was a good person, but the whole of society didn't... so who was right? James and Peter or the whole of society and numerous experts?

The only thing that Peter knew for certain was that James Potter and Sirius Black were unfathomably intelligent... so if they believed Remus, then so did Peter. Peter didn't have to make the decision—James and Sirius had already made it. And James Potter was always right.

But what if he was wrong?

No. James was always right. (Except for that time he thought Remus' mum was the werewolf, and that time he thought Remus was dying.) Remus was a werewolf, but he was a good werewolf. James was always right. And when James and Sirius (both very clever people) agreed, then Peter could be sure that it was the right thing to do.

If Remus left their group, then Peter would be a third wheel. He'd be alone and teased and yelled at. Peter was often jealous of all the attention that Sirius and James were giving Remus (even though Peter spent more time with them—Peter deserved it, not Remus!), but Remus held Peter to the group. Peter would be nothing without Remus. Peter was afraid of losing his friends—even Remus. Especially Remus.

"Are you all right, Pete?" Peter heard James say. Now they were asking him. Finally!

Peter took a deep breath and voiced his concerns (they were his friends, after all. They'd listen), and then James blew up. He started shouting and yelling and Peter thought he was going to cry, and he felt so bad and just wanted James to like him, and he shouldn't ever have doubted Remus at all. "Okay, okay!" said Peter. "If you trust him, so do I... you're right; he's Remus."

And Peter did trust Remus.

Now that Peter thought about it, he actually wasn't afraid. He didn't care at all. Remus was the one who helped him with homework, who pushed James and Sirius to include him more, who said that he wasn't stupid. He liked Remus. Remus would never hurt him... probably. And James was always right... usually. And Dumbledore would protect him... most likely.

Peter's brain hurt.

Remus always said that Peter wasn't stupid. He always said that Peter was just good at other things—memorization wasn't it. Apparently, deductive reasoning wasn't, either. But honestly? Peter didn't mind the fact that he hadn't found his niche yet. The thing that made Peter so frustrated all the time was that he liked being slow, and it often felt that he was the only slow-moving person in a fast-paced world.

Peter loved slow things. He liked to stop, think, and wait until ideas fully permeated throughout his brain. He liked to smell the roses and get distracted without guilt. He liked to read slowly, move slowly, and walk slowly. But moving slowly with James and Sirius? That wasn't an option, and Peter always felt so dreadfully behind when he was with them. Remus could keep up, but Peter couldn't—and he'd tried, sure, but he just didn't match with the rest of them. That scared him sometimes. Perhaps he wasn't cut out to be a Marauder after all. Perhaps there was a friend group out there that was a better match for Peter... but James and Sirius were so cool, and Peter couldn't bear to leave them.

Still, now Peter had to deal with this. This was a huge chunk of information—the sort that almost made him regret becoming a Marauder in the first place. Things would have been so much easier if Peter had just stopped spending time with James and Sirius early on and started spending time with people who were more his speed.

Sometimes, James and Sirius had light-hearted competitions over meals. They would each take a sandwich, and then they'd try to take the biggest bite possible—ten points if they swallowed without chewing, zero points if they had to spit it out, and twenty points if they made one of the girls say "ew!". It was gross, but extremely entertaining to watch.

But Peter never participated in those competitions. No, Peter wasn't interested in literally biting off more than he could chew. But that was what this felt like—it was going too fast, it was too much, and Peter just wanted time to think about it, but he couldn't, and he couldn't even talk about his feelings because, even though he was still chewing his sandwich, his friends had all swallowed the whole thing a very long time ago...

Peter liked Remus, sure. But he didn't much like sandwiches anymore.

AN: Pivotal chapter here (and the Peter perspective you've all been asking for!). Happy early Christmas!