Remus knocked on the door to Dumbledore's office—he didn't even have to bother guessing the password, because Dumbledore opened it almost immediately. The man was wearing a nightcap with a rather large pom-pom, but Remus, in his terror and grief, couldn't even find it within himself to be amused.

"Ah, Remus," said Dumbledore; for once, his calm smile infuriated Remus. "What seems to be the problem? Are you perhaps at my office far past curfew for a mere midnight visit? In that case, I should be immeasurably glad to talk, of course. You are very lucky that everyone has the flu; no one is quite healthy enough to catch you wandering the corridors after curfew..."

"Professor," Remus interrupted. "I need to go home. Right now."

"I see." Dumbledore stared at Remus intently, and Remus didn't even care if he was using Legilimency. He knew he wasn't, somewhere underneath his layers of numbness and emotionlessness, because Legilimency came with certain type of sensation that Remus wasn't feeling right now... but none of that was quite coming to mind, because Remus' thoughts were about as twisty, knotted, and dangerous as the limbs of the Whomping Willow. "Well," continued Dumbledore, now frowning, "that is indeed cause for concern. Do come in."

Remus walked in, sat down, and set his trunk on the floor next to him. "I'm already packed, so there's nothing I need," he said, "and don't bother trying to convince me to stay."

"Taken into account, of course... but I would rather like to know what has inspired this sudden change of heart."

Here it was: the moment of truth, the moment of doom, the moment in which Remus would have to say it out loud. A lump rose in his throat, but he swallowed it with determination. "My dormmates. They found out the truth," he said, but the last word was more of a pitiful whisper than anything else.

Dumbledore's face was unreadable. "Are you quite sure?"

"Positive. They read one of my letters. Also, there's the matter of the small emotional breakdown that I had in the dormitory when they confronted me... so yeah. They know."

"Ah. Yes, that could do it."

"Apparently they've known since..." Remus trailed off, suddenly feeling quite ill. "The end of September."

"And how do they feel about it?"

"They said they don't care."

"Do help me understand, Remus. Why, then, are you leaving?"

"Because knowing a werewolf dooms them to a life that they shouldn't have to live."

"Remus, they are not doomed to anything," said Dumbledore gently. "They are not forced to remain friends with you should they feel uncomfortable. Friendship is not a lifetime commitment."

Remus laughed humorlessly. "It is for James Potter, sir. Couple months into our friendship and he already had secret knocks, a secret club name, stupid secret nicknames, and ten million in-jokes."

"Remus..."

"I asked you not to try to convince me to stay, Professor. I don't want to stay. I'm not trying to be noble or self-sacrificing or anything—I genuinely do not want to stay. This complicates everything. It's going to be horribly unpleasant, and I don't feel like dealing with it. I just... I want... to go home, Professor. I want to go home." Remus felt tears prickling at the back of his eyes, because there was just something about the phrase I want to go home that felt too vulnerable, too painful... but he pushed them away. He would not cry here. Not now. Not in front of the most powerful wizard in the world.

Dumbledore steepled his fingers underneath his chin and nodded slowly. "I understand, I think, and I shan't push you to stay—not more than I already have, of course. But I do want to know why. I want a proper reason, Remus, because this seems like a drastic negative reaction to a very pleasant event."

"Well," said Remus with a heavy sigh, "my dormmates are all-or-nothing types of people. Especially James. I suspect they accept me right now because the novelty of having a Dark beast for a friend excites them. I have no doubt that James Potter will force himself to be the most loyal, most annoying, most hovering-and-fussing friend ever. He already did that before he knew I was a werewolf. And Sirius will be insensitive and loud about it all, completely disregarding the negative, painful aspects of the situation, and Peter... well, I don't know about Peter, and not-knowing scares me.

"And once they stay my friends for a bit, then they'll see all this—" Remus gestured to his damaged body, obscured by robes that carefully covered every inch of him— "and how ill I get, and the prejudice, and then they'll push me for information and I'll get all emotional and they'll see that too, and then they just have to live like that—live like my parents live—trying not to pity me, walking on eggshells around me for fear of offending me, worrying about my health... they'll probably go through the researching phase—like my parents did—to see if there's anything they can do, and there's not. I can't watch people do that, not again, because it's so, so painful. And they'll have to keep my secret! It's tiring, it's lonely, and I can't condemn perpetual secret-keeping to that who's not getting paid for it. There's a reason that only adults know."

"Sounds to me like you are trying to be noble," said Dumbledore, smiling a little.

"I'm not! I'm being incredibly selfish. I'll feel bad that they'll feel bad that I feel bad. It'll be a whole mess of feeling bad, sir, and I don't want that."

"I see. Has anyone ever told you that you have a bit of a guilt complex?"

"Every day. All the time. Mostly Madam Pomfrey and Professor Questus."

"I see," said Dumbledore again. "Your mind is made up?"

"Yes, sir. But thank you for allowing me to attend, anyway. It's helped a great deal, even if I didn't get my O.W.L.s."

"It certainly has."

"It's just... good things have to end, don't they?"

"They certainly do."

"So I have to leave."

"If you think that's best." Dumbledore smiled at Remus again, twirling his beard. "I trust your judgement, Remus. You're a bright and empathetic young man, and you're fully capable of making your own decisions. While I cannot say I agree with you, I respect your choice and I wish you all the best."

"Thank you." There was a stiff silence. Remus wasn't sure what to do now, because he couldn't very well go home on his own. Would he use Dumbledore's Floo? Would he walk to Hogsmeade and get a Knight Bus? Would his parents come to pick him up somehow? He couldn't walk or fly a broomstick; Hogwarts was in Scotland, and Remus' parents were all the way in England.

As he contemplated this (the whole time, Dumbledore sat and examined Remus thoughtfully, as if he were a particularly interesting window during a particularly boring lesson), Remus heard footsteps coming from down the corridor. The ill feeling came back, and Remus' heart lurched violently, swooping down into the pit of his very stomach. "James and Sirius and Peter are coming down the corridor, I believe," he said timidly, holding his abdomen.

"I suspected they would."

"Any chance I can hide?"

"None."

"Any chance you can send them back to bed? I mean, they're out after curfew..."

"So are you, and I've always valued fairness."

Remus nodded slowly, arguments and spirit depleted, and waited for them to arrive in Dumbledore's office. He felt a bit like he was waiting in a cell for the executioner... which was certainly possible, if James and Sirius and Peter couldn't keep their mouths shut.

"Albus! Albus Percival Wulfric Brian! Let us in!" James was speaking. Dumbledore opened the door graciously with a flick of his wand, and Remus' dormmates barreled into the room. "Remus! Don't you dare leave, or we'll... we'll fill your bed with frogs..."

Remus grimaced. "Can't do that if I'm not here."

"Or turn your hair pink..." said Sirius.

"Can't do that, either."

"Or send you ten letters a day..." said Peter.

"I'll just ignore them."

"We know where you live!" said James.

"I'll have to move." Remus felt horrible as he thought about moving away from Professor Questus and the small town. It really was the perfect place to live as an ill child... cool air, healthy weather, not too much rain, strong cellar. But Remus was used to moving, and he could always write Professor Questus letters... and now he'd have someone to visit on special occasions. He'd never had that before.

"Remus, listen," said James harshly, "you're the only thing standing between Peter and failure..."

"Sirius and rudeness..." added Peter.

"...and James and arrogance," finished Sirius. "You need to stay."

Remus felt anger rising up inside his chest and running through his veins. No, of course he wasn't going to stay. He didn't want to. Why couldn't anyone respect that? Remus was already putting himself in danger by staying at Hogwarts, and this would increase the danger by tenfold. His closest friends—his only friends—were now aware of Remus' dark, shameful secret, and Remus was so embarrassed he could just die. Of course he didn't want to stay! He wanted to go home! Yet here everyone was, pushing him to stay in a place that would cause him nothing but uncomfortable pain, and Remus couldn't stand it. The anger twisted in the wound, wriggling like Bufo sometimes did after a bath.

Remus stood up abruptly.

Everyone stopped and stared.

"Er," he said. "I need some air." Then he left Dumbledore's office as briskly as possible, practically ran out of the school, wandered the grounds, and started pacing around the Black Lake. He didn't care that it was freezing. He didn't care that he was already exhausted from the Forbidden Forest excursion, which already felt like a lifetime ago. He didn't care that his feet hurt. The only thing that Remus cared about was that, for a moment, he had escaped that stuffy room, rife with emotions. For just a moment, Remus could take leave of his worries and walk. He could sort his thoughts. He could breathe out here. The bitter cold was a welcome distraction from the embarrassment that plagued Remus' mind and the anger that plagued his stomach, so Remus walked... and walked... and walked...

Remus was on his fifth round around the Black Lake when he heard Professor Dumbledore walk up beside him. He stopped. "Yes, Professor?"

"Ah, hello, Remus. I merely wanted to check in. The full moon is in three days, if I'm not mistaken—it's not quite the best time for a midnight walk in freezing temperatures, especially considering the fact that curfew began hours ago."

"I'm fine, sir," said Remus shortly. He didn't feel like entertaining anyone's pity right now. "Where are my dormmates?"

"Back in bed, I believe." Dumbledore started walking, and Remus caught up and fell in stride beside him. It felt good to walk, no matter how tired he was. "It was actually quite a humorous visit. Your friends were very careful to keep your secret from me at first. They assumed that I didn't know."

"They're not my friends," said Remus.

"Very well. Your dormmates. They do want you to stay, even after I explained your reservations. And they gave your wand back—here it is."

Remus took his wand and shook his head vehemently. "They don't understand."

"Perhaps not. But they want to, and that means the world."

"Nothing you say can convince me to stay, Professor."

"There's no need to call me 'Professor', Remus," said Dumbledore, sounding slightly amused. "After all, you're no longer a student here, are you?"

Remus grinned at Dumbledore, looking at him for the first time. "Doesn't mean you're not a professor, Professor."

Dumbledore chuckled. "Very true. Now. Seeing as you are no longer a student, shall we walk to Hogsmeade? I hear it isn't often crowded this time of day, and I have changed out of my nightcap and slippers."

"All right," Remus agreed. "I didn't wake you, did I?"

"I suffer from what some like to call 'convenient insomnia'. I find myself unable to sleep at the most convenient times."

"Hm," said Remus, because he didn't quite know what else to say.

They walked for a bit until they reached Hogsmeade. The shops and pubs were closed this time of day, and the town was quiet (save for their footsteps, the rustling trees, and the hoots of a few persistent owls). Dumbledore began whistling under his breath, and Remus identified the song as some sort of wizarding rock tune that he'd once heard James singing. They walked on, and Remus stared determinedly at the lifeless buildings; he could not bear to meet Dumbledore's eyes.

Remus suddenly froze, remembering Dumbledore's charms on the Shack. "Erm, Professor Dumbledore? The Shrieking Shack isn't about to start making noises, is it?"

"No. Not tonight."

Remus breathed a sigh of relief. "Good. Er... does it... sound like me? Or...?"

"It's just generic spirit and ghost noises. I believe it sounds similar from a distance, but not exactly the same at all. The noises are faint enough, full moon or not, that people wouldn't be able to tell the difference anyway."

Remus shivered and pulled his robe more tightly around his shoulders. "Thank you, sir. I know you worked hard on it, and I'm sorry I couldn't use it longer."

"It's more my fault than yours, Remus. I, as the headmaster, was responsible for keeping you and your secret safe."

"No," said Remus. "It wasn't your fault. It was inevitable, I think, and it's mere luck that they took this long to figure it out."

"Are you certain?"

"Yes, sir."

"Then we are in agreement that it was no one's fault?"

"Of course."

"Not even yours?"

Remus looked at Dumbledore again, laughed, and shook his head. "I suppose not. You're very sly."

"It's what makes me such a good headmaster."

"Speaking of which... whom did you leave in charge?"

"Professor McGonagall. She's sleeping right now, so she doesn't know that she's in charge. All the same, I think that a sleeping Minerva McGonagall is a better headmistress than even I."

"Right," said Remus with a laugh. "And... Professor?"

"Yes?"

"What do you want me to do from here? Am I Flooing home? My parents are sleeping."

"I thought perhaps we could wait for morning. If we wake them now, they'll never go back to sleep, will they? Besides, I must selfishly confess that I wish for you to sleep on your decision."

"I'm not going to change my mind."

"I am perfectly aware, but I know I shall feel very guilty if I don't at least try. Sleep at the castle, Remus. Please. For my sake."

"I can't go back to my dormitory, and the Hospital Wing is crowded..."

"You can take my office for the night."

"Where will you sleep?"

"I am almost a century old, Remus. The only physical benefit of being so is that I can fall asleep anywhere."

"All right." Remus, in all honesty, would have preferred to go home rather than imposing even more. But he was sapped of his strength, it seemed, and he didn't much want to argue. "May we go back now? I'm getting cold."

"Of course," said Dumbledore. Together, they began the long trek back to the castle. Remus breathed the whole way—in through his nose, out through his mouth—and, by the time they reached Dumbledore's office, he was already feeling a little bit better.

But only a little.

"My bedroom is just behind my desk. When you wake up tomorrow, we'll Apparate back to your house and explain things to your parents. Does that sound feasible to you, Remus?"

"Yes, sir. Thank you so much."

"Not an issue. It is, after all, my responsibility as the headmaster."

"But I'm not a student."

Dumbledore tugged on his beard thoughtfully. "Are you trying to convince me not to help you? If that's what you'd like, then I can certainly let you walk home. It might be a bit of a long walk, though, and you'll have to swim part of the way..."

"No, sir. Sorry. Thank you, sir."

"Of course."

Remus removed his shoes and lied down in the bed. It was very odd, to think that a man as powerful as Dumbledore actually slept. He didn't know why.

He fell asleep half an hour later to the scritching of Dumbledore's quill. He'd left the Pensieve with Sirius back in the dormitory (since he never had too many nightmares at home, he'd figured Sirius needed it more than him), but he still managed to sleep through what remained of the night without a single nightmare. Somehow, it was much easier to feel safe with the most powerful wizard in the world only a room away.

Remus didn't change his mind that night. In fact, after sleeping on the decision, he woke up even more certain that he wanted to go home—more than anything—more than life itself. Professor Dumbledore, as promised, Apparated him to his parents' house the next morning. Remus felt very, very ill, and Apparating on his queasy pre-moon stomach didn't help matters... but he managed to keep himself upright.

Dumbledore knocked on the door politely, and Remus' mum opened it. "Oh! Remus!" she said, her blue eyes seemingly lighting up from the inside. "It's good to see you, dear!"

"Good to see you, too, Mum," mumbled Remus.

"And, er, Albus Dumbledore, was it?"

"Of course, Hope," said Dumbledore with a slight bow. "May we come in?"

"Please do." Remus' mum let them in and called for her husband. Remus covered his ears. It was far too much noise for two days before the full moon, and his anxious thoughts were loud enough that he felt even more sensitive.

"Remus!" said Remus' father, hurrying down the stairs. "Albus Dumbledore... good day. Is Remus home because of the flu? For the break?"

"No," said Remus. "I'm here permanently."

There was dead silence for a few seconds (call it the calm before the storm) before Remus' father and mother simultaneously started talking rapidly.

"Is everything okay? Your friends found out? Did they... are they... are you...?"

"Are you hurt? What did they say? Did they hurt you?"

"Did they tell anyone? Do people know? Oh, Merlin's beard, if people know then I'll never forgive myself, this is all my fault..."

"Are you—?"

"Mum! Dad!" said Remus tiredly. "Everything's fine. They didn't try to hurt me. They seemed fine with it. They wanted to be my friends in spite of it all, actually, but that... wasn't possible. They won't tell anyone... will they, Professor?"

Professor Dumbledore smiled and shook his head. "I don't believe so. They're very trustworthy, and I plan to speak with them again later."

Remus nodded, smiled shakily, and swallowed. "I just... it's safer to leave, isn't it?"

"Of course it is, dear," said Remus' mum, swooping in and smothering Remus with a hug.

"And it's perfectly believable that I dropped out of Hogwarts during the flu epidemic. Just as believable as dropping out over the summer, I think, maybe even more," continued Remus, his voice muffled (as he was still being hugged rather tightly). "Everything's okay. I just need to stay home now."

"I want to assure you, Hope and Lyall, that Remus is not underplaying the events of yesterday evening," said Dumbledore. "You have a very responsible son, and everything is indeed fine. There's no need to worry."

"Yes, sir," said Remus' father. "Thank you so much for taking care of him."

"Oh, I find that your son can often take care of himself," Dumbledore said airily. "Now, I must get back to the school. I hope to see you again someday, Remus."

"Thanks for everything, sir," managed Remus, still being hugged by his mother so tightly that he felt his ribs were going to snap.

There was a crack like a whip as Dumbledore Apparated away, and then Remus was home, alone with his parents.

Just like he would be for the rest of his life, probably.

"Do you need anything, Remus?" said Remus' father. Remus was sitting on the couch reading a book. "More tea? Another book?"

"No, thank you."

"Do you want to talk now?"

"Not quite ready yet."

Remus' father sat beside him and wrapped his arm around Remus' good shoulder. "I know that was hard to do, Remus."

"Had to be done."

"Perhaps, but that doesn't make it any easier. And I'm very glad that you got to go to Hogwarts for a full year and another few months. That's huge. You've improved a lot since then."

"And I'm officially the first werewolf in history to go, even though I won't be the first to graduate."

"That, too."

"But Professor Dumbledore says that he might consider inviting another someday if they fit the requirements. So I've helped clear the way, haven't I?"

"Of course."

"I'm all right with clearing the way. I feel as if I've been helpful, at least."

"You've been very helpful."

They sat in amicable silence. Remus flipped a page of his book. He wasn't finished reading said page yet, but he felt like he had to do something to keep it from being unbearably awkward.

"We've received thirty-seven owls from your friends," Remus' dad said suddenly.

Remus dropped the book on top of his foot. "Ow. What?"

"Thirty-seven owls. All school-owned, save for two. Letters everywhere."

"Really?"

"Yes. And your mum and I have read a couple—we figured you wouldn't mind—and they're good friends."

Remus wasn't actually super comfortable with his parents reading his letters, but he didn't say anything. "They're not my friends."

"They think they are."

Suddenly, Remus caught the implications of his father's tone. "Dad," he said in a quiet voice. "You're not. You aren't. You... aren't trying to convince me to go back, are you?"

"Hm... I might be."

Remus sat up and stared his father down. "Dad. You can't be serious. That's insanely dangerous, not to mention thoroughly unpleasant. I came home for a reason!"

"At least write them letters, Remus. They miss you. And... you've managed to convince two boys from world-renowned Pureblood families that... werewolves... aren't all that society makes them out to be. You could change the world."

"Oh, so you think I should use them for my own agenda?"

"That's not what I'm suggesting." Remus' father sighed. "You look so much healthier than when we saw you last, and that was only a few months ago."

"That's because I've spent half of my time back in the Hospital Wing."

"Hogwarts is good for you, Remus, and I only wish to make it last a little longer. As long as it can. It's so, so, so good for you."

"Change of heart from last August, hm?"

"Yes, actually. A very big change of heart. Questus has told us stories about how talented you are, you know—won't shut up about duelling and all that nonsense. You deserve to go to school... to have friends... to have good medical care. You deserve those things, Remus. You really do."

"Life isn't fair."

"Obviously. But we can make it more so; that's all we ever strive to do."

"Dad," said Remus, and he allowed his tone to harden, brushing past the boundaries of anger. "This is my life, and therefore it is my decision. I will not be going to school with three boys my age who know that I am a werewolf. Think of the questions. Think of the tasteless jokes. Think of the staring. Think of the stress I'll feel as I watch my secret being poorly guarded by the most talkative and popular students in my year. I don't want that."

Remus' father sighed. "You're right, and it is your decision. I just want to... to fix this. It's my fault, and I want to help."

"It's not your fault, and you can't fix it. I don't want any more false hope. I'm not normal, I'm not human, I'm not a Hogwarts student, and pretending otherwise won't make it true."

"Remus..."

"No. We talked about this when I turned eleven, remember? I don't want more potential cures. I just want to be me. I can't cure it, so I have to learn to live with it. False hope makes that harder and more emotionally damaging." He paused. "It's not all bad, Dad. There's a little bit of hope, at least, and I don't think this type is false. My dormmates know and they like me anyway... so what's stopping future employers or potential friends from doing the same? Not everybody blindly hates werewolves, and my dormmates are proof. It makes me feel significantly better whenever I think of it like that."

"Perhaps, but..."

"It's sort of nice not to worry about it anymore. It was tiring to lie all the time. I'm glad I'm home."

"Yes, but Remus..."

Remus laughed. "Do shut up and let me find the bright side, Dad."

"Okay."

Remus picked his book back up and resumed reading, and his dad held him more tightly and read over his shoulder.

AN: Oranges are the best fruit, followed by kiwis, followed by grapes. This is not up for debate.