Remus had a nightmare that night and woke up scratching at his arms as if to get rid of the fur that was there only a few seconds ago. When he woke up, he realized that the nightmare was partially true in the sense that his friends knew, and they were in danger, and it was his fault... for a while, Remus lied there, staring the ceiling and forcing his breathing to slow, reminding himself that Professor Questus was intellectually brilliant, never lied, and wouldn't tell Remus to go back to school if it wasn't safe.

Time passed. Then, out of the darkness, there emerged a voice that shouldn't have surprised Remus (but did anyway). "Remus?" came James' voice from the other bed. "All right there?"

"Fine," said Remus, breathing somewhat heavily. "Go back to sleep."

"You never told us... what the nightmares were about. Was that a nightmare of you getting bitten by that werewolf?"

Remus had been afraid that James would ask about this. "No, not this time. But I don't really want to talk about it."

"Okay," said James, shrugging, and he turned over to return to sleep. Remus listened to James' breathing slow to a steady sleeping rhythm, and he didn't close his eyes until he was certain that James was fast asleep.

And, despite the horrible nightmare that had just occurred, Remus fell asleep with a hint of a smile—because, if James Potter was willing to give up his own insatiable curiosity for Remus' comfort, then Remus had very good friends indeed.

The next day he woke up feeling... kind of okay, actually. He was expecting to be more tired, seeing as he hadn't slept much the night before. And he was definitely expecting to feel more nervous about all of his friends (who knew now!) being in the same room as him. But he was... kind of okay. Not all the way okay, but kind of okay. And definitely not great. Just... sort of okay, almost, but not quite.

Sirius yawned and hopped out of bed. "Morning, Remus!" he said in a very chipper voice. Too chipper. Annoyingly chipper. Suspiciously chipper.

"Morning," said Remus.

There was silence as James dragged Peter out of bed.

"It feels different," Remus whispered. "Everything feels different. More... awkward."

"You've always been awkward, mate," snorted James. "No offense."

"Yeah, I know. None taken. But it still feels... different."

"Is it a good different?" asked Sirius. "Maybe it's a good different. Now you don't have to handle everything all by yourself."

Remus shook his head. "It's a bad different. I feel like every time you look at me, you're seeing me as a werewolf and not your friend Remus."

"We're not!" said Sirius. "Look, it's a lot of information to take in, sure. But give us some time to get used to it. We're not looking at you any different."

"Differently," corrected Remus, smiling, even though he knew perfectly well that Sirius always made his grammatical errors on purpose. "And I know you're not. Or, at least, you're trying not to. But that doesn't stop me from feeling it, because I'm afraid my emotions aren't always logical."

Sirius snorted. "Darn right, they're not."

"Oi," said Remus; with that, he went to the lavatory to change (he wasn't comfortable changing in front of his friends, even though he knew that the scars weren't a giveaway anymore). Even though the lavatory was supposed to be a place of privacy, however, his friends kept talking to him through the door.

"You're not going to... leave again?" called Peter. "If you don't like us?"

"Professor Questus and I made a deal, remember?" Remus responded. "I told you last night. I'll stay here, no matter what, until holidays. Then I decide. But it won't be anything personal, I promise. I like you three no matter what, too—I really do. I just... don't know if I can do this. I spent the past year worrying about you finding out... it was my worst nightmare... and now that it's all out in the open... well, it's weird, that's all. Not your fault. Just not something I think I can handle."

"We don't think it's weird at all," said James.

"Okay," said Remus, tying his tie and emerging from the lavatory, "but that's you, not me. Hey, you know what? Let's just pretend that you don't know. Can we do that? Pretend that nothing ever changed? You can never ask me questions again, and you can ignore it when I go away for the transformation, and we'll still do everything that we used to. Just... pretend that I'm not a werewolf! Simple and easy."

"Not happening," said James.

"But you said that my backstory didn't matter," Remus argued desperately. "Oh... wait. That was a lie, wasn't it? Because... you already knew."

"Yeah, I already knew," admitted James, and Remus couldn't help feeling a bit disappointed—because that had given him so much hope, and now he knew that it had never, ever been true. Not for one second. To his friends, his backstory had always mattered, and it would continue to matter for the rest of his life.

"But we didn't lie to you more than you lied to us," said Sirius, and then Remus started to feel horribly guilty, too, because... well, yes, Remus had lied way more than that. Now he knew firsthand how awful lies—even necessary lies—could feel.

"I know," he said quietly, and then (because he had to confirm the horrible truth): "So... it was really a lie? My backstory really does matter to you?"

James nodded emphatically. "Oh, it was absolutely a lie. A huge lie. The biggest lie ever. Your backstory matters to us because you matter, yeah? We care about you, ergo we care about your backstory and every other part of you. But we don't think any less of you because of it, of course."

Remus blinked back tears again. He just constantly felt like he was going to cry nowadays, but he wasn't sure if it was out of relief or disappointment or something else entirely. "Cheers," he said lamely. "Now... remember, you can't talk about any of this when we're in public. Not even when no one's listening. We have to be really, really careful..."

"Yeah, mate, we got it," said Sirius with a wave of his hand. "It's not that important anyway. We've got other things to talk about, haven't we? I've got a couple of letters from Mum that I want James to read aloud in a silly voice, anyhow."

"And I want to give you the play-by-play of every single Quidditch practice that I've had while you were away," said James.

"And I have some questions about Pensley's homework," said Peter.

Remus blinked back tears again, feeling like quite a bit of a crybaby. "Very well," he said.

And, true to their words, no one said anything about werewolves all through breakfast. James was just as animated as ever, Sirius was just as hysterical, Peter was just as smiley and happy, and it almost felt normal. Remus still felt a bit like they had X-ray vision and were staring at his skeleton, but it was better than it had been before. And laughing with his friends—who were still his friends!—made everything feel kind of okay.

Not okay, exactly. Not yet.

But almost.

"I can't believe we have History of Magic first thing in the morning today," complained James. "I couldn't stay awake last class. I swear, lads, there were weights on the ends of my eyelids."

"Better than DAD," Remus said.

"I miss first-year Flying class."

"You're a literal Quidditch player now, James," said Sirius. "How could you miss Flying class? You fly every day!"

"Right! I guess that's better. Talking of Quidditch, the game was postponed because of the flu, but it's back on for..."

"This Saturday," laughed Remus. "Yes, we know. You've told us. But, James... you're not even playing in it. It's Ravenclaw vs. Hufflepuff."

"Yeah, but this game affects our chances! I'd much rather play Hufflepuff than Ravenclaw this year. Ravenclaw has some great Chasers, so we're way more likely to do well against Hufflepuff."

They turned the corner and entered the History of Magic classroom—they took their respective seats, like normal, and class began. It was boring, like normal, but Remus took notes diligently... like normal. He imagined his friends' eyes burning into him as he wrote, but whenever he looked, they were either sleeping, doodling, or chatting with each other. Just like normal. Idly, Remus wondered how much of the awkwardness was real and how much was merely his imagination.

The rest of his classes that day were just as normal. Remus helped Peter learn a charm in Charms class, and Flitwick praised Remus for his "concise explanation of complex topics". Remus wondered if the teachers knew about what had happened. He wouldn't get that information from Professor Flitwick unless he asked, though (Flitwick was so good at treating Remus normally), and Remus definitely wasn't going to ask. He was clutching the almost-normality with both hands, and he didn't want to risk it slipping away in a moment of weakness.

They has Astronomy in the Great Hall because the charms to make the Astronomy tower's ceiling look like a planetarium were on the fritz. Professor Sidus didn't look at Remus, but that was normal. James told jokes into his ear the whole time, which was also normal. And Peter kept asking him to repeat Professor Sidus' instructions, which was so normal that it was almost painful.

Transfiguration was normal. Remus, no matter how hard he tried, could not turn the beetle into a button. Peter did manage the charm (although the button still had antennae), and Remus felt very jealous at first and then guilty for his envy. James, of course, got it on the first try. Sirius got it on the fifth.

They ate lunch as normal. They ate supper as normal. They meandered around the common room and the grounds as normal. But, no matter how normal it felt, there was still the not-normal lingering over Remus' head. His friends knew! They actually knew, and Remus had to talk about it or he'd burst. "Let's go to the dormitory," he muttered, and his friends gave him a concerned look and obeyed his request.

They Knocked on the door (like normal), entered (like normal), sat on their respective beds (like normal), and then Remus started to cry (which wasn't normal).

"Woah! What's wrong? Did we do something?" said James anxiously.

"No! I've just been... wanting to cry all day. I don't know why. I'm not sad. It's just..."

"Surreal," murmured Peter.

"Yes! Exactly! Surreal. It's like... like everything's different but so close to normal and I don't know how to make it better!"

"Are you always this emotional?" said Sirius, wrinkling his nose. "You were this emotional for a whole year? We didn't even see it that often, and you certainly didn't tell us."

"Well, I couldn't very well tell you everything," said Remus. "That's why it's surreal. Now I can. And it's weird."

"So what did you do last year?" said James. "Did you go and cry to Dumbledore? Alone in the dormitory while I was at Quidditch? Over tea with Moaning Myrtle?"

"No," said Remus, smiling a little. "Mostly Madam Pomfrey and Professor Questus. But Madam Pomfrey's resting—she didn't get much sleep over the last few weeks and the full moon didn't help matters—and Professor Questus is gone."

"Write him a letter if it'll make you feel better," suggested James.

"I have. Every day when I was in the Hospital Wing. We started another game of dots and boxes, and I still think he's cheating." Remus sniffed and wiped his eyes. "But yeah, maybe that's a good idea. Will you... go somewhere else? I feel like you're staring at me all the time and I need to be alone."

"But we're not. We want to help!"

"But I feel like you are. Told you, it's got nothing to do with you. It's just me."

"Okay," said James. "Let me find my disguise. We're going to the library."

"The one with the pink hair or the long blonde wig?" asked Sirius.

"The long blonde wig. And the horn-rimmed spectacles. And the beanie. Mixing and matching keeps it fresh, you know?"

Remus watched them leave and then took out a piece of parchment and a quill, and then he spent one hour detailing how weird he felt, how he felt like they were all staring at him, how incredibly naïve they were about it all, James' pitying gazes, how tantalizingly close to normal it was, how anxious he was that he was ruining their childhoods, how afraid he was that they were going to find out something that they didn't like and leave him, and how scared he was that he didn't want that, which made him feel so selfish...

He ended his letter with a simple question: How do I fix it? Any help would be appreciated. Thanks, Professor!

Then he made his move in the game of dots and boxes (it wasn't a very good move, but he couldn't think of a better one), and walked up to the owlery by himself to send it.

After he was finished, though, he didn't go back to the dormitory; instead, he walked around the corridors a couple times, relishing the feeling of being alone and thinking without interruption... and, when he felt he was ready, went to the library to meet his friends. They were sitting at a table together, reading some thick book. Remus sat in the chair across from them, and they didn't even look up.

"Er, hey," he whispered as quietly as he could.

James' head jerked up and he fell out of his chair, pulling Peter and Sirius down with him. The crash rang through the library, and Madam Pince booted them out of the library before Remus could even see the title of the book in which they were so utterly absorbed.

"What was that?" said Remus to a very guilty James. "What on earth scared you so... oh." He stopped walking.

"Are you okay?" said James uncomfortably. He was still wearing his disguise, and he looked rather ridiculous.

"You're scared of me," Remus said. "It's okay. Just let me know and I'll stay away. I can even still stay at Hogwarts if you're okay with it... I'll just ask Professor Dumbledore to move my dormitory. I can sleep in a broom closet, I suppose. Or Myrtle's bathroom. None of the girls go in there, anyway..."

"We're not scared of you!" said James. "Blimey, Remus. We were... we just..." He sighed. "We didn't want you to see what we were reading."

"Oh," said Remus again. The four of them arrived back at the dormitory, executed the Marauder Knock, and shut the door behind them. "Werewolves?"

Peter sat on his bed and picked up Bufo—he'd been spending a lot more time with Remus' toad since Remus came back. Remus supposed they'd somehow bonded while he was away. "Yeah," said James. "We were curious... and you don't want to talk about it, so we thought we'd..."

Remus sighed. "I'll answer questions if you're curious. I was hoping that you wouldn't be curious at all, but you might as well get the right version from me if you are. Those books are mostly really wrong."

"Okay, cool," said Sirius. He flopped onto the floor and stretched his arms and legs out. "Ever bitten anyone?"

"No!" said Remus, horrified. "I take precautions! I'd never! I'm very safe!"

"Killed anyone?"

"Of course not!"

"Aw." Sirius made a motion on the ground sort of like he was trying to make a snow angel without any snow. "That's too bad. That would've been cool."

Cool? Cool?! COOL?! "No, it wouldn't've been cool!" said Remus harshly. "I'd feel guilty for the rest of my life! I'd never be able to sleep again! I couldn't live with that...!"

"Calm down," said James, and Remus immediately took a breath—in through his nose, out through his mouth—because the tone of James' voice suggested that he was overreacting, and he probably was. "It was only a joke, mate... but Sirius is sorry that he brought it up. Right, Sirius?"

Sirius sat up. "Well, I don't see the problem if you've never done it. Why does it bother you so much if it's never happened?"

Remus' mouth opened, and he shut it immediately. Then he opened it again, but changed his mind and shut it. Then he opened it again to speak, confident that he could actually get words out this time. "The prospect is so horrible that I don't want to think about it," he said carefully and slowly, not wishing to overreact a second time.

Sirius lied down again, apparently satisfied. "Oh, okay," he said.

"So you're pretty much invincible, eh?" said James. Remus was thankful for the subject change, but was still immensely uncomfortable. "If you can only be killed with a silver bullet. Do they even make silver bullets? Wizards don't even use guns."

"That's a myth. I can be killed by loads of things." He tried for a joke. "James' patter about Quidditch should do the trick."

James rolled his eyes. "Har, har. But what about when you're... you know, a wolf on the full moon. Even then?"

"Well, I don't think that talking about Quidditch would kill a werewolf on the full moon. But lots of things would. Any kind of bullet, probably, although werewolf skin on the full moon is pretty thick. A Choking Charm, but you'd have to do it for a while. Diffindo, perhaps. A fall from an immense height. Wolfsbane, if you could get the werewolf to eat it... or lock it in a room with enough of it for long enough, probably... but that would be difficult. Of course, you'd have to use a little more power to kill a werewolf magically on the full moon... a pretty powerful curse, and instigating pain won't help much. It doesn't care about pain. Not much will slow it down at all."

"What if someone used the Imperius Curse on you?" said Sirius. "That would stop you from attacking yourself!"

"That's Dark magic," said James sharply.

Sirius' face fell. "Oh. Oh. I'm sorry."

"That would be nice," Remus chuckled, noting Sirius' discomfort and trying to change the subject. "But the Unforgivables don't work on werewolves, unfortunately."

"So you're impervious to the Killing Curse?" said Peter. "Oh, that's so cool..."

"No. Not now. Only on the full moon."

"That's dumb," said James.

"I know."

"Can you touch silver, then?"

"Of course. The only thing that seals a werewolf bite or scratch is powdered silver and Dittany, so I sorta have to touch it. I have a bottle here in my pocket that I bring everywhere just in case I... you know, accidentally scratch myself." Remus pulled it out and held it up. "Other than that, silver doesn't affect me at all."

"I guessed that," Sirius said proudly. "Back in October. So... are all werewolves good? Like Greyback? Is he secretly good?"

"No! No. No. Absolutely not. Loads of werewolves are bad... that's why people are afraid of them. Very bad. Very, very dangerous."

"Like people," said Peter thoughtfully. "There are good and bad people, so there are good and bad werewolves."

Remus frowned. Like people?

"You idiot," said James. "Werewolves aren't like people. Werewolves are people."

"Are they?" said Sirius. "Are you a person, I mean, Remus. If you're not human."

Remus could feel his cheeks going red. It's a valid question, he reminded himself. Sirius doesn't mean anything by it. "Er, yeah," he said. "Of course I'm a... a person. Just not human." Remus tried to remember what his father had said to him all those years ago when he had asked that same question (after his father had finished looking guilty, like he always did when werewolves were mentioned). "Person is a state of being; human is a species."

"All right," said Sirius.

"That's enough questions, I think," said Peter. "Right, Remus?"

Remus looked at James and Sirius, who looked like they still had more questions. But... he was tired. He was too tired right now, and he was tired of talking about werewolves. He heard Madam Pomfrey's voice in his head telling him to be selfish... Professor Questus' voice telling him to stop being sensitive... Madam Pomfrey's voice telling him to avoid overexerting himself... Professor Questus' voice telling him that his friends deserved the truth... Madam Pomfrey's voice telling him to talk about it... Professor Questus' voice asking him where his sense of self-preservation was... oh, there were too many conflicting voices, and Remus was only one boy—only one young, confused, and thoroughly overwhelmed child.

A compromise. He'd find a compromise.

"I'll answer more tomorrow," he said quietly, "but I'm tired of talking about it right now. Can we do something else?"

"Sure," said James. "Let's play Exploding Snap in the common room with the first-years. I bet we can beat them to bits."

Remus let his friends go, and he stayed in the dormitory alone, staring out the window into the darkness until his eyes grew heavy and he fell asleep. He just needed some time to himself was all. He'd spend more time with his X-ray vision friends tomorrow.

Remus received a letter from Professor Questus the next morning during breakfast, and it consisted of only a few words.

Lupin—

Time.

And don't call me Professor.

—J. Questus

He'd also included the game of dots and boxes. Remus stared at it and scowled. Professor Questus had made a very good move, and Remus was about to lose again.

"That's John Questus, right?" asked Peter as he shoveled eggs into his mouth. "What did he say?"

"Yes. He told me 'time'."

"What does that mean?"

"I asked him how to fix the whole situation. He's telling me to wait. Also, I'm going to lose this game of dots and boxes again. This is our fifth game and I've never beaten him!"

"Yeah, that's a lost cause," said James, looking over Remus' shoulder as well. "But you can play with us if you want. To hone your skills and such. Ooh, we can play it in the notebooks in separate detentions, Sirius!"

"Cool!"

Remus finished his sandwich and joked and laughed with his friends for a very long time. James started a game of dots and boxes for them, and Remus lost miserably (the winner was James by a large margin, followed by Sirius, followed by Peter). They laughed the whole way through, telling stories and jokes, teasing each other, engaging in the light-hearted banter that Remus had missed so much... and they didn't even mention werewolves once.

Things were starting to feel kind of okay.

Almost.

AN: In case you don't already know (most do), "avocado" and "lawyer" are the same word in French.