It was about nine o'clock, and Remus and Peter were still awake—but come on, how could anyone have possibly expected Remus to go to sleep at eight-thirty? That was far too early for a twelve-year-old. Twelve was practically a grown-up, and grown-ups did not go to sleep at half eight.

Part of the reason that Remus was still awake was that he could still hear James and Sirius chatting in the guest room... but he doubted anyone else could. Then he realized that, now that his friends knew about him, he could ask them and know for sure. "Hey, Peter?" he whispered. "Do you hear James and Sirius talking?"

Peter scrunched his eyes shut. "Nope."

"Okay. Thanks." It was good to know that, if he needed to tell Peter something that he didn't want his parents to hear, they probably wouldn't be able to make it out. It was better still that Remus was now able to say just about anything he wanted without having to cover it up with secrecy and lies. Being open about his condition made him feel very exposed, yes, but it was also freeing. It was funny how that worked.

As Remus was relishing in his own rebelliousness—Madam Pomfrey had told him to go to bed at eight-thirty, but it was nine—he suddenly remembered that Madam Pomfrey had given him other instructions, too. Namely, there were two potions in his trunk that he hadn't taken yet. Fortunately, the fact that Peter knew made it a lot easier to take them without giving away a terrible secret. Without worrying about hiding, Remus plucked the Blood-Replenishing Potion from his trunk, made a face, and downed it in one gulp.

"What's that?" asked Peter.

"Er, Blood-Replenishing Potion."

"Did you lose that much... did you lose that much blood... two nights ago?"

"Not really. I mean, I'll live. This just... helps. Otherwise I feel kind of dizzy. And it works best before bed." He pulled out the second potion and drank it as well. "Pain-Relieving," he said before Peter could ask. He sort of liked explaining things. It took it off his chest, at least. "I'm not in pain, but Madam Pomfrey seems to think I am. It's mostly just preventative."

"Hm," said Peter. "Why is everyone so worried about you? Your mum? Madam Pomfrey? Don't you do this every month?"

"Yes! Exactly! I don't know why, either. Obviously I can deal with it by myself." Remus didn't really want to change into his pajamas, so he decided to sleep in his trousers and collared shirt instead of changing clothes entirely. He was tired, and he'd certainly slept in less comfortable circumstances besides. And, talking of being uncomfortable... "It's a little bit frustrating," he told Peter. "I only want to be Remus, you know? But I'm always Poor-Remus and Remus-Lie-Back-Down and Remus-Take-Your-Potions. It's bordering on ridiculous. I don't see why they can't just... let me deal with it myself. I know how I'm feeling better than they do, right?"

"I dunno, I'd like the attention if it were me," said Peter. "When I'm poorly, my mum tells me to stop being such a baby."

Remus kind of wished that his mother was like that sometimes. "That's what Professor Questus says to me," he said. "I prefer it, actually. I... being treated like I could break at any minute gets really old really quickly."

"I wish people would fuss over me," continued Peter, not seeming to have heard Remus. "I know you hate it, but it makes you special, doesn't it? The center of attention? I'm just about never the center of attention, 'cept when people laugh at me, so... being pitied sounds nice. Like people care."

"I... suppose," said Remus. "People do care, and I'm thankful. You know, if you want to be fussed over, I'm sure my mum will do it. She's a Muggle, and wizarding injuries are always worse than Muggle injuries. Apparently a broken bone is a really big deal in the Muggle world, but wizards can mend it in half a second."

"I've never broken a bone. What does it feel like?"

"You haven't?" Remus had kind of assumed that everybody had broken a bone at some point. "Er... it hurts. It's... I dunno. Inside. Deep. Kinda numb, depending, but... it still hurts. It just... sorry, Pete, I don't know how to explain it. It's a broken bone. You have to experience it to know."

"Sounds fun, but I think I'll pass," said Peter, and Remus laughed.

"Fair enough."

"It's late. Don't you need to sleep?"

"Well... Mum will never know if I stay up. And I feel fine."

Peter smiled even wider. "Brilliant. I know ghost stories. Sirius and James told a ton when I slept over at James' house last summer."

"Seriously?"

"Yeah! Wanna hear some?"

"Of course!"

"Okay, here goes! A long time ago, in a village by the woods, there was a little girl named Tabitha..."

Peter's ghost stories were not scary at all. In fact, they were downright hilarious. Remus found himself laughing so hard that he had to cover his mouth to avoid waking up his parents. Remus even made up a few of his own (his favorite being about a hornet and a hollow tree). He ended up falling asleep around half eleven in the middle of Peter's story about the haunted fishbowl; when he woke up the next morning, he heard his friends talking excitedly downstairs—apparently they were all already awake.

He locked himself in the bathroom and changed as quickly as he could before coming downstairs. His friends were all sitting at the breakfast table, eating cornflakes. James had a fork in his hair. "He lives!" exclaimed Sirius. "We tried to wait for you to eat breakfast, but you were taking too long."

Remus' mother hugged Remus tightly, which was a bit embarrassing. "Did you sleep it all off, love?" she whispered.

"Mum. I've been healthy since yesterday morning."

She sighed. "I know. I'm just not used to you looking so healthy so soon... after."

"How long does he usually take to recover from a full moon?" asked James, not following social cues as usual. Remus' mum whirled around to face him and did not respond.

"A week-ish," responded Remus, ignoring his mother's melodramatic reaction. "But at school I only need two days in the Hospital Wing afterwards. Why is there a fork in your hair, James?"

"Sirius put it there. Said that my hair was so wild that anything would stick in it. So far, he's right. There's also a spoon in there, but you can't really see it."

"It got sucked into the abyss," said Sirius solemnly. "Are you sure you're alive, Remus? You don't look alive."

"I'm actually not," said Remus. "I'm a vampire. Sorry I didn't mention it earlier."

"That explains a lot," said James.

"Like your pale complexion," said Sirius.

"And the fact that you always wear red and black."

"And how good you are at Defense Against the Dark Arts."

"And your strange aversion to certain plants."

"Don't forget the occasional fangs," quipped Sirius, and Remus started giggling.

His parents looked at him, horrified.

"Anyway," said Remus, trying to change the subject before his mum started crying or something, "is there a plan for today?"

"I was thinking that you boys could visit John Questus," said Remus' mum, jumping at the opportunity to switch topics. "He's been too ill to visit lately and I'm afraid he's rather lonely."

"Sure," said Remus. "I'll bet he'd be thrilled to see Sirius, Peter, and James again. Those three broke the record for detentions acquired in one year, I think."

"Actually, that honor belongs to Tracey Pebbleton of Hufflepuff," said James. "She managed to get a detention every single day in the 1951-1952 school year."

"How... how do you know that?"

"We've had to sort detention records a lot for detention. Fascinating, really. They were for the silliest things, too—she got one because she unscrewed the chandelier, which I think we should do someday. But a lot of them are also for fights with other students. Tracey was a feisty one, apparently."

"Fascinating. You can tell Professor Questus all about it. Maybe she became an Auror or something, if she was that good at fighting."

"I think I'll pass," said Sirius. "I don't really want to talk to John; he doesn't like me much. I'll stay here."

Remus shook his head. "He doesn't like anyone. You're not special."

"He did mention wanting to talk to you boys," said Remus' mum. "And I think he missed you, Remus."

"He didn't miss me," Remus scoffed. "Let's go over to his house around three o'clock."

"Be back for supper."

"I will, Mum."

"Three o'clock is ages away," complained Sirius. "What should we do in the meantime? Something more fun than talking to a teacher, I hope."

James perked up. "I want to go outdoors! I have my broom with me. There are no Muggles... except for you, Mrs. Lupin. I can fly around in the garden, can't I?"

"There's a Muggle town just at the bottom of the hill, James; we shouldn't risk it," said Remus' father. Remus knew that the people weren't likely to see James, but he also knew that the Ministry wouldn't go easy on Remus if they found him or his associates guilty of breaking the Statue of Secrecy. They couldn't risk it, as much as James wanted to fly around.

"We can go to the forest," said Remus, because the best way to distract James Potter from an idea was to present something new and exciting. "We'll just walk around for a bit... or we could go to the village if you brought Muggle clothes."

"Muggle clothes?" said Sirius, gagging. He was wearing a plain black robe. "Of course I don't own Muggle clothes."

That had been a bit rude, Remus thought, especially in front of Remus' mother... but he supposed Sirius didn't know any better, and no one saw it fit to chide him. "Can we borrow some of yours, Remus?" asked James, giving Sirius a dirty look but not saying anything this time around.

"Sure."

Remus' mother didn't look ecstatic about the idea, judging by the deep worry lines in her forehead. "Remus, dear, are you sure that you can walk that far? It's about a mile there and another mile back..."

Remus rolled his eyes and smiled. "I'll be fine, Mum. Really."

"I'm a fast runner," offered James. "I'll come back here and let you know if Remus spontaneously collapses!"

Remus' mum knit her eyebrows. "Oh dear. Has he done that before?"

Remus had done that, actually, back in first year when he'd snuck into Hogsmeade with his friends on the night before the full moon. He'd also done it a year ago (had it already been a year?) when Questus was looking after him. And he'd passed out a few times with Madam Pomfrey due to fatigue or pain.

"Er, not often," he said, but his mother didn't seem to be satisfied. "Only when it was within twenty-four hours of the full moon," he corrected. She gave him an odd look, and Remus internally chastised himself for mentioning the full moon in front of his mother. "I'll be okay, Mum."

"He'll be okay, Hope," said Remus' father, and Remus gave him a grateful look. "I suppose I'll see you boys later. Have fun. You can take a picnic and stay outdoors all the way until three if you'd like. Explore the shops at the town when you get cold. It's quite warm for December, so you'll be okay for a while."

Remus' mother still didn't look sold. "Isn't there some sort of warming spell that you can...?"

"He's twelve. Twelve-year-old boys are invincible. Bryson and I trekked about in short sleeves in negative-degree weather as kids."

Remus spoke before his mother could respond. "Thanks, Dad! I'll go upstairs and try to find Muggle clothes for Sirius... did the rest of you bring any?"

"I did," said Peter.

James pulled out an oversized beach hat and sunglasses (they had been under his chair. Why had they been under his chair?) and waggled his eyebrows. "Sure did," he said.

"That's your library disguise, James."

"Yeah. Muggle clothes, right? I'll blend right in."

"Not... really." Remus shook his head. "I guess it doesn't really matter. You can go in that if you'd like, but no one else will be wearing it."

"Come on, I see famous Muggles in the magazines wearing nonsense all the time. Maybe I'll start a trend. Ooh, I have pink trousers, too! And look, it's a shirt with picture of a canary on it."

Remus giggled. "Yeah, mate, maybe you'll start a trend. Sirius, you can come upstairs with me to find..."

"Now, just a minute," said Remus' mum. "You're eating breakfast first. That's not optional. The rest of you can help Remus' father pack a lunch."

"Cool!" said Sirius. "The cooking? Really? Us?" Sirius didn't always seem to like things that he considered beneath him (like Muggle clothes, apparently), but there was just something about being allowed to cook that put him in a bright mood. Remus figured it was solely because of the fact that food was often messy, and Sirius Black was chaos incarnate.

"Of course," said Remus' mother, and Sirius immediately proceeded to drop the bread on the floor.

Remus sighed and ate his cornflakes as quickly as possible. It was going to be a long, long day.

It was indeed uncommonly warm for December twenty-third... but it was still cold. Remus, who was wearing an overcoat and two jumpers, was still shivering. James and Peter seemed to be fine, but Sirius' teeth were chattering slightly. "I have to admit, this jumper is pretty warm," Sirius conceded, "compared to robes. Thanks for not making me wear the green one, though. Too Slytherin."

"I w-wanted to," joked Remus. "You'd look g-great in green. How long have we b-been walking?"

"Around twenty minutes," said James. "Do you need to rest?"

"No, James. I'm f-fine. Please don't d-do that, my m-mum fusses over me e-enough."

"Fine. It's only because you're so tiny and innocent. Looks like a strong breeze could knock you clean over."

"S-says the skinny boy w-with spectacles to the Dark c-creature."

James laughed. "Some Dark creature you are. You're shaking more than Pete does when he's confronted with a Bludger."

"Yeah, Remus, and you're skinnier than James is," Sirius pointed out. "Honestly, though, it's cold. How much longer have we got?"

"We're about halfway there."

"Good. Are there lots of warm shops to go inside, Remus?"

"There's a ch-china shop, b-but we probably shouldn't g-go in there—it's n-not a very Marauder-friendly p-place. And there's..."

Sirius took his wand out of his pocket and pointed it at Remus. Remus took a step back and yelped. "Calm down, mate!" said Sirius. "I'm doing a Warming Charm."

"You c-can't. W-we're too close to the v-village."

Sirius sighed and put his wand back. "Fine. I didn't know why you're so jumpy; I wasn't going to hurt you. Borrow Pete's hat, at least. He's not cold." Peter gave Remus his hat without question, and Remus accepted it gratefully. He made a valiant effort to stop shivering, and it kind of worked. "What other shops are there?" asked Sirius.

"I don't go down there much, so I don't know for sure. I think there's a clothing store. Maybe a pub. I've been to the bookstore a couple of times."

"Of course you have," said James, rolling his eyes. "Good thing I'm wearing one of my library disguises."

"You look ridiculous."

"Perhaps, but this hat blocks the sun better than a Shade Charm does. You haven't dropped the picnic food yet, right, Peter?"

"Of course I haven't! It's right here."

They walked and laughed for a bit longer until they reached the town. Sirius was rubbing his hands together. "Blimey, Remus, I'm freezing. Let's go in somewhere."

"Bookshop," said Remus, ignoring his friends' groans of protest. "That's the closest. It's called Mitchell's." He pulled them into the familiar shop. He'd only been there a couple times before, but it was one of his father's favorite places to go whenever he needed to get out of the house. Mr. Mitchell (the owner of the shop) knew the Lupins quite well and had shaken Remus' hand and treated him like a proper adult last time he'd come. "Morning, Mr. Mitchell," Remus said; he heard the bell ring as he opened the door, and it lifted his spirits immensely for reasons unknown.

"Is it Remus Lupin? My, my! I haven't seen you in months!" Mr. Mitchell had shorter hair than the last time Remus had seen him, and he was sporting a small moustache. He was tall and lanky—in fact, his frame was similar to James'. "Your father was just by here a few weeks ago. Your mother came too—she doesn't usually come, but she's been by a lot more since you started going to that boarding school. What was it? Blackford?"

"Yes, sir," said Remus. He'd never heard that word in his life, but it was less suspicious than "Hogwarts", so he figured his parents had chosen it.

"How are you feeling these days? Lyall said that you were doing much better."

"I am, sir. Blackford's been good for me. Fresh air, you know." Remus turned to his friends, who were standing awkwardly in the doorway. Sirius was still blowing on his hands. "Mr. Mitchell knows about my... chronic illness."

"Your chronic illness," said James, winking. "Ah, I see." Remus rolled his eyes. Could his friends be any more suspicious?

"These are my friends, Mr. Mitchell," said Remus. "They go to school with me. That's Peter, that's James, and that's..." He realized that Sirius' name was a little too odd to be using in front of Muggles. "That's Max."

Sirius looked up and furrowed his eyebrows. "No, I'm..."

"Well, he's actually Maximus," said Remus, cutting Sirius off, "but he prefers Max, don't you?"

"Er... yeah," said Sirius.

"Quite the getup you've got going on there, James," chuckled Mr. Mitchell. "You're dressed for the middle of summer."

"He likes to embarrass me," said Remus, "and himself. May we stay here for a bit? We've just walked here from my house, and it's a bit chilly outside."

"Of course! Have a seat. Got new armchairs early summer last year. You haven't been to see me for more than a year now, haven't you? How many times have you come?"

"Twice, I think."

"Yes, back when you were nine, and then once when you were ten. You're a lot bigger now. Healthier-looking. What are they feeding you?"

"Sandwiches, mostly." Remus fished out a few spare coins that he'd been saving. "I'm looking for fictional... supernatural... books?"

"Right to your left, third down. Can I find anything for you boys?"

"Yeah, do you have any books on werewolves?" said Sirius. Remus shot him a look, and Sirius grinned and shrugged.

"Both of you fans of paranormal, then?" chuckled Mr. Mitchell. Remus winced. Paranormal. He didn't like that word. "Right where Remus is looking, Max. Supernatural fiction. Let me know if you need recommendations."

"Of course, Mr. Mitchell," said Remus. He was looking for a book about ghosts—poltergeists, specifically, because he thought a ridiculously inaccurate Muggle book would be a funny Christmas gift for his father. Mitchell's was a used bookshop, so all of the books were very cheap.

As he was sifting through the novels, Remus heard Sirius make a small noise of approval and pull out a book, and Remus squinted at the cover. The Werewolf of the West. Remus cringed. It looked like a stupid fictional werewolf novel with no real truth to it.

Remus and his friends spent about an hour chatting with Mr. Mitchell and looking through the books (James, for no real reason, ended up purchasing a book about clocks), and then they left the shop to explore the town more. "Goodbye, Mr. Mitchell," called Remus. "Have a wonderful afternoon."

"You as well! Don't get too chilly!"

As soon as they stepped out of Mitchell's, Sirius leaned closer to Remus. "Why did you say my name was Max?" he hissed.

"Sirius isn't exactly a common name. You're probably the only Sirius in Britain. If he hears the name again, he'll know who you are and put the pieces together."

"You're way too cautious," said James. "He wasn't about to hear Sirius' name and think, 'Wow, that kid has a strange name! Wizards must exist!' Besides, it's not like your own name is common, either, but you didn't tell him that your name was Henry or whatever."

"He already knows my name, so there's no going back now. And the fact that I'm overly cautious is what makes me such a good liar."

"That's true," said Peter. "You're better than the rest of us, anyhow. Hey, let's go into that store!"

"That's not a store; that's someone's house."

The Marauders continued to walk around the town for a bit, and then they walked back up the hill to the cluster of trees next to Remus' and Professor Questus' house. Remus was shivering and sort of wanted to go indoors, but his friends still had plenty of energy. For the next forty-five minutes, they ran around the hill and chased each other with sticks. Remus watched amusedly as James picked up a pinecone and shrieked as a giant spider climbed out. James watched it crawl away, horror still on his face, and then he suddenly laughed and picked it up.

"Ew ew ew ew ew!" cried Peter. "Put it down, James!"

"S'only a spider," said James. "I thought it was a cockroach or something, and I'm terrified of those. But I like spiders. I'm going to name this one... Max!"

"I can't believe you went straight for the name that Pensley calls me, Remus," Sirius grumbled. "Such a dumb name."

James shrugged. "No more dumb than Leonardo, Griffin, and Henry. You know, I actually like the name that Pensley calls me."

"Henry is a perfectly respectable name," said Remus. "Actually, they all are... maybe with the exception of 'Griffin'. I just wish that she would call us by our real names. I used to hate my name, you know, but I suppose absence makes the heart grow fonder... also, now I know there are worse things to be called. Like Griffin."

"What's wrong with Griffin, you traitor?" James extended his hand towards Remus, threatening to drop the spider on his lap.

"Go right ahead, I dare you," said Remus. "I'm not scared of spiders."

"But it could bite you," said James, leering.

Remus didn't even have time to think about it before the words came out, unbidden and involuntary. "I've been bitten by worse things," he said.

There was a short horror-filled moment of silence... and then James laughed. "That was funny!" he said. "I would drop the spider on you anyway, but I'm hungry. You still have the food, right, Peter?"

"Yes, of course, it's been in my hand all day." Peter had been a little miffed that James and Sirius had made him carry the basket for so long—Remus had offered to take over, but James hadn't let him (probably because of his health, which made Remus very frustrated).

No matter, though; Remus decided to ignore everything negative for fear of spoiling a good time. Together, the Marauders ate a hearty lunch, played catch with a pinecone for a bit, and then went inside, where Remus' mum had scraped together just enough ingredients to make four steaming mugs of hot chocolate. "Thanks, Mum," said Remus, and she kissed his forehead.

She looked like she wanted to fuss or take his temperature, but instead she just smiled. "You're welcome. I'm glad you had fun," she said, and Remus most certainly had.

AN: Fun fact—James still had the forks in his hair underneath the hat. They stayed in the whole day long.