Remus was feeling considerably better the next day, and his parents finally agreed that he could go back to school. Remus bade goodbye to Professor Questus, and then he and his father Apparated to Hogsmeade and sat in the bookshop while they waited, chatting and laughing. At exactly seven-thirty, there was a sharp cracking noise that made Remus spin around and catch his breath. "Professor Dumbledore!" he said. "Good morning. And thank you ever so much."

"It's no problem at all," said Dumbledore, examining the sky with a calm expression. "I do enjoy escaping the castle every once in a while. Being headmaster comes with a bit of cabin fever, I'm afraid. Now... I hear you had some troubles with a certain Veritaserum potion?"

"I'm fine, sir," said Remus. "It wasn't that bad. And it wore off. Not a big deal."

"Pretty obvious that it wore off, you liar," muttered Remus' father, and Remus hit him.

"Is there anything that you need from either me or Madam Pomfrey?" asked Dumbledore, observing their antics. Remus shook his head vehemently, and Dumbledore smiled. "I thought as much. Well, if you're ready."

Remus hugged his father one last time and then took Dumbledore's proffered arm—the world spun, his insides twisted, and then he was standing in Dumbledore's office. Remus fell over and caught himself on a wall. "Ow," he muttered.

"Remus?"

"Fine, sir. Just... still recovering. Discombobulated." He thought for sure he was going to faint. "I need to... sit down..." Where were the chairs? He couldn't see anything; there were stupid purple spots in front of his eyes, obscuring his vision. He shrugged and then sat on the floor, drawing his knees up to his chest and waiting for the spots to go away. For one horrifying moment, his vision started to go black... but then it cleared and he shook his head to rid himself of the dizziness. He glanced up at Professor Dumbledore and dragged himself into a standing position. "I'm okay now," he said.

Dumbledore was frowning through his beard. "Are you certain that you ought to go to classes today, Remus? It's perfectly all right if you need another day to recover."

"No, it's not, Professor. I don't want another day to recover. I want to go to classes," said Remus. He tried to keep the desperate tone out of his voice, but he sensed that he was failing miserably. "It's just... Apparating. It's a lot. I'm a little dizzy, and I was when Dad brought me to Hogsmeade, too... but I'm okay, I promise."

"I shall hold you to that," said Dumbledore. "Your first class is...?"

"Transfiguration."

"May I explain the situation to Professor McGonagall? It might help if she knows that you are a little out-of-sorts today."

"I would rather... I would rather you didn't, sir."

"Well, I know that. Here's the funny thing about being headmaster, Remus: I phrased that sentence in a question, but it was, in fact, a statement. Let me rephrase it for you... I am going to notify Professor McGonagall of your condition, and she is going to ensure that she doesn't draw attention to you while you're recovering—at least for your first class, so that you can ease back into the routine. Besides, I think that she, as your Head of House, will be concerned about you and should know that you are all right. How angry will you be with me, on a scale of one to ten?" Professor Dumbledore smiled. "You can see why I worded it as a question the first time. That was quite wordy."

"Yes, sir," said a very flummoxed Remus. "On a scale of one to ten...? Er... I suppose... zero? That's fine, sir. If you really think it will help."

"Oh, it will. Your friends, by the way, have been up to quite the shenanigans without you."

"What did they do?"

"They have hexed Severus Snape. He had to spend a day and a half in the Hospital Wing, I'm afraid."

Remus' mouth dropped open. "Really?! That's awful!"

"I'm glad to see that you hold the same sentiments towards bullying that I do. Perhaps you can explain it to them—they certainly didn't listen when I did."

For some reason, the word "bullying" made Remus feel even more queasy and dizzy. "Oh, I'm sure it wasn't bullying, sir," he said earnestly. "They... well, Snape doesn't like them either, so it's more of an innocent rivalry than anything else." For a second, Remus quailed under Dumbledore's scrutinizing gaze. "I'm sorry," he whispered. He wasn't sure what he'd done wrong, but...

"Don't be sorry, Remus; I trust your judgement," said Dumbledore serenely. "You might as well go to breakfast now. I'm sure they're worried about you."

"I hope not," said Remus. "I've been keeping them updated." He thought about the four charmed notebooks that they'd used over holidays and smiled. They really did like him. They really didn't care that he was a werewolf. Even after two months, he could not believe it one bit—it was positively surreal; positively magical. A terrible thing had just happened, yes, but Remus was going to be fine. He had constants now, after all, and Remus always felt steadier on his feet when his future was a little more steady and secure.

"Remus!" squealed Peter, moving in for a hug, but Remus pushed him away gently and shook his head, smiling to let Peter know that he appreciated the sentiment.

"Don't act like I've been gone for a long time, Pete. I'm hoping nobody noticed," said Remus.

"Everyone noticed," said Sirius. "You're kind of popular, mate."

James nodded. "Yeah, you hang out with us, and we're the popular-est."

"...Right," said Remus. "Did anyone... ask...?"

"Yeah, that first-year came up to us. Ozzie. The one who had the flu. He asked where you were."

"Oh." Remus was surprised... and slightly touched. "Really? Oswald? What did you tell him?"

"Told him the truth."

Remus froze. "What?"

There was a pause as James tried to do something with his eyebrows (which only succeeded in making him look like a troll), and then he started to laugh. "Relax, mate. We told him that you were at the Ministry."

"James!" Remus hissed, panic flooding his chest. "You didn't!"

"You're right. I didn't. Sirius did."

"Yep," said Sirius proudly. "I told him that you robbed Gringotts, killed four people, outran five Aurors, kicked a goblin on your way out, and then accidentally ran off a cliff. Then I said that I swooped through the sky on a broomstick and caught you, and the two of us flew off into the sunset... but you're not very good on a broom, so you fell off and Peter caught you, and then the two of you ran and ran... but you're both slowpokes, so the Aurors caught you. Fortunately, Peter has the rare ability to turn invisible at will without a wand. The Aurors took you to the Ministry and you had a trial. We told him that you were probably going to lose and go to Azkaban, but..." Sirius grinned and waved his arms in the air, "here you are! It's a miracle!"

"You saved me on a broom and Peter turned invisible? Where was James during all this?" said Remus skeptically.

"I was watching," said James. "Taking photographs. Eating biscuits. Laughing, mostly."

"That sounds more like something Remus would do," said Sirius, "but I s'pose he was occupied with running from the Aurors. So how'd you escape, Remus? Did they let you off?"

Remus sighed. If it had been him, he would have told anyone who asked that his mother was ill again, because making up such an outlandish story sort of implied that he was hiding something. This certainly wasn't the safest excuse... but it was done and over with, so Remus might as well play along. Besides... it might be fun. "No, actually," he said. "I got life in Azkaban. But I made friends with one of the Dementors. I made a wager: if I could win against him in a game of chess, then he'd let me go free. I won, so I rode on his back out of Azkaban, cloak billowing behind him, and here I am."

Sirius laughed a bit hysterically (but Sirius' laugh always sounded a bit hysterical, so that was nothing new). "But you're terrible at chess!"

"Well, the Dementor was worse."

"Impossible. That can't be true."

"It was. I swear on every chess game I've ever won."

"So... zero?"

"One. Against the Dementor."

Sirius laughed again. "Ah, I see. What was his name? The Dementor, I mean."

"Erm... Joe."

"Good old Joe," said James wisely. "Where is he now?"

"Around, probably," said Remus. He turned around. "Ah, yes. There he is. He's disguised as Nearly Headless Nick. Cheers, Joe!" Nearly Headless Nick, who had somehow heard Remus, turned and gave him an odd look. Remus cringed. "Oops," he said, and his friends erupted into peals of laughter.

Times were good, and Remus was happy to be back at Hogwarts. There were still a couple of things to worry about, yes: Remus was still a little uncomfortable with Sirius telling something that was so close to the truth, for one, and he couldn't stop worrying about that. He had been asked by Dumbledore to talk to his friends about the incident with Snape, for another, and his stomach twisted up in knots whenever he considered that prospect. He wanted to know more about the incident, actually... he didn't even know if Snape was okay. That was Problem #3. And Problem #4 was that Remus was dreading telling his friends the full truth about the Werewolf Registry. He hadn't gone into much detail, but he knew that he needed to do that before they somehow found out for themselves (they were clever like that).

But he decided to forget about all his problems—and even the Registry itself, for now—and bask in the laughter and fast-paced jokes of his best and only friends. Indeed, it was good to be back.

McGonagall, predictably, held Remus after class. James, Sirius, and Peter stayed behind with him. She shook her head at them, lips pressed into a very thin line. "Potter, Black, Pettigrew... while I appreciate your loyalty, I'd like to speak to Remus alone," she said, crossing her arms.

"Remus has no secrets from us," said James.

"Er..." said Remus. He thought of Sirius' father and the Veritaserum. His friends hadn't noticed (or hadn't said anything about) his peakiness, but it was a long explanation and he was too tired to do it right then and there. Not with McGonagall in the room. "You're right, James... but there is something that I need to tell you later today. And I'd rather tell you later than... now."

"Why didn't you tell us earlier?" said Sirius. "If it's that important?"

Remus winced at the accusing tone in Sirius' voice. "I couldn't. We were surrounded by people. And it's... not that important. Not really. I promise I'll tell you later."

"That's what the notebooks are for, though," said Sirius. "You should have told us over holidays."

"It needed to be in person. Sirius, I... I promise, okay? I'll tell you everything."

"Fine." Sirius flounced out of the room, and James (who was also looking a bit annoyed) followed him. Peter gave Remus an apologetic look and then ran after his other friends.

Professor McGonagall cleared her throat. Remus had almost forgotten that she was there. "Yes, Professor?" he said.

"Have a seat."

"Er... will this take a long time? Because I really need to get to Potions..."

"I'm afraid it will. In fact, I plan to keep you all the way until History of Magic."

"What? Seriously? Why?"

"Professor Slughorn, against our wishes, has scheduled the Hair-Raising Potion for today, which, as you probably know..."

"Contains aconite," said Remus. All of a sudden, his good mood was being sapped from his body, and his problems were returning to the front of his mind in full force. "Oh."

"I do not believe that attending that class would be safe at any time, especially not now... when you are already under the influences."

"Yes, Professor. I understand."

"I trust you already know the theory behind brewing a Hair-Raising Potion?"

"Like the back of my hand, Professor."

"I thought as much. Would you be willing to—" McGonagall pursed her lips. "This might be... uncomfortable... and I don't want you to feel obliged, but... werewolves are part of the Transfiguration curriculum. Not until seventh year, of course, but this is around the time that I have to teach it to my seventh-years. Last year, I realized that there was some biased information in my curriculum—information that made me a bit uncomfortable to teach, since I didn't know exactly what was true and what was a myth. Would you be willing to answer some questions? Perhaps review what I have?"

Remus hesitated, and then he smiled. "Depends. How many points toward the Competition will it get me?" he asked, referring to the lighthearted "Competition" that he and Professor McGonagall had devised in Remus' first year.

Professor McGonagall paused, and then shook her head. She wasn't laughing, exactly, but Remus could tell that she wanted to. "It doesn't matter, Mr. Lupin. You're playing a losing game."

"How many points will it get me?" Remus repeated. "I'd say about a hundred."

"That's highway robbery. Three."

"Three? No way! It's worth at least twenty."

"Seven."

"Ten?"

"Seven-point-five."

"Deal." Remus smiled and leaned back in his chair. "I was a little uncomfortable with the subject in my first year, but I don't hate talking about werewolves—not all the time, not anymore. I like to know that people have the right information. Professor Questus did this, too, you know. He had to teach us about treating werewolf bites, and I think that was also around the time he taught werewolves to his... is it third year?"

"Yes. He told us that you were very patient about the whole thing."

Remus laughed. "Did he? I didn't think he thought so. He mostly looked annoyed, but now I know that it's his normal expression. He took notes, I remember, which was extremely awkward."

"I don't plan on taking notes, if that is all right with you."

"Please don't."

"Although I hear from Professor Flitwick that you're quite the gifted teacher when it comes to helping your friend Peter Pettigrew master spells..."

Remus idly wondered how much the teachers discussed their students with one another. "No, not really. Peter's always already close."

"Hmm. If you say so. Anyway, I would like to begin by asking you about my definition of Dark transfigurations back in your first year. I said, if you'll remember, that a Dark transfiguration is typically akin to forcing the victim to transform without magic. Would you say that this applies to a werewolf transformation?"

"Absolutely, although it's still very clearly magical, if that makes sense..."

Remus managed to talk the entire time without even pausing much, and Professor McGonagall was much more sensitive and careful about the topic than Professor Questus had been. Remus found it nice, although he sort of missed how Questus acted like it was no issue at all—that it shouldn't bother him whatsoever—that it was just a fact of life. Professor McGonagall was much more prone to asking Remus if he was all right, asking him if a certain topic made him anxious, and moving away from a topic if Remus hesitated, even slightly... it felt like a waste of time, nearly patronizing, even though Remus was very thankful that she was trying to make him comfortable.

Also, Remus had known that Professor McGonagall was intelligent, but he didn't know that she was that intelligent. She asked questions that to which Remus himself didn't even know the answer—but she was never bitter about it when he didn't know; she simply nodded, said that she would look it up later, and promised to let him know if she found anything. Remus asked her a few questions of his own, and he ended up learning more about his own transformations (and about Transfiguration in general) than he'd learned in the past couple of months combined. McGonagall told him that she was "impressed with his eloquence and intelligence", and she ended up giving Gryffindor eight points in addition to the promised seven-point-five towards the Competition.

Remus reluctantly gave her five points. She chuckled. "You needn't do that, Lupin."

"No, it's fair. You talked about it just as much as I did."

"But the subject isn't nearly as sensitive for me as it is for you."

"Which is why I gave you two and a half less than you gave me. It's no big deal, anyway. I'm winning by enough that five points won't get you anywhere."

"For such a good student, you have no idea what you are talking about."

Remus held up his hands. "Hey, I'm still recovering from a large dose of Veritaserum. I don't lie."

Professor McGonagall chuckled again, which Remus supposed was the closest that she was going to get to a laugh. "May I ask... what happened at the Ministry? How you fared?"

"You mean the effects of the Veritaserum?"

"Yes, I suppose."

"Coughed a lot. Couldn't breathe all that well. Dizzy. Passed out in the car on the way home, I think. Might have passed out while being interrogated, but it's all kind of a blur."

"Interrogated? How intense was it?"

"I... dunno. It was just a lot of questions. And some yelling."

"Yelling?"

"Well... there's nothing incriminating about me, Professor. There was nothing to say, and they were a little bit angry. It would have been a lot easier for them if I'd been guilty of breaking a law, so they weren't happy that I was totally innocent. But it didn't go beyond raised voices and annoyed tones, if that's what you mean. And it was only for thirty minutes."

"Thirty minutes?"

"Well, maybe forty-five, but I don't think it was that long."

"Typical interrogations under Veritaserum don't last more than twenty."

"Well, I'm not typical, am I? I'm a werewolf. I'm the first werewolf to go to Hogwarts, and possibly the first to go to school at all. It's brand-new, it's never been done before, and I think they have reason to be apprehensive." He didn't, not really. But if he said it enough, then he knew that he'd start to believe it. Words were powerful.

McGonagall still looked disturbed. "They shouldn't have done that."

"You're right; they shouldn't have. I'm not saying they have an excuse; I'm just saying that they have a reason."

Professor McGonagall shook her head again and stood up. Remus followed, taking that as a dismissal. "Why anyone could think that you're evil I shall never understand," she said. "Best leave now to go to lunch, Lupin."

"Thank you ever so much, Professor."

"It was my pleasure, and I mean that sincerely."

Remus really did feel lighter after talking about things, and now he felt like the Muggle hot-air balloons that his mum sometimes talked about—lighter than a cloud and capable of soaring.

Remus took notes diligently during History of Magic, but it still seemed to pass incredibly slowly. He couldn't stop glancing at his friends, who weren't looking at him at all. He clenched his teeth a bit and started tapping his foot nervously.

He glanced back at his friends again, only to catch the furious look that Lily Evans was giving him. "Shush," she hissed, and it took Remus a minute to realize that she was talking about his tapping foot. He'd heard the tapping as clear as day, of course, but he hadn't thought that human ears could. He stopped tapping his foot and colored a bit, embarrassed that he'd disturbed the class, and he turned back to his notes and tried to listen to Binns.

Class ended, and Remus expected his friends to leave the classroom without him (as they usually did when they were annoyed at him). But they didn't—they lingered behind, laughing and smiling, waiting for Remus to catch up. "Hey, Remus!" said James. "Blimey, mate. You look like you've seen a Dementor. Is it Joe?"

"Er... what?"

"Joe. Your friend Dementor. Have you already forgotten?" When Remus didn't respond, James tapped him on the shoulder haphazardly. Remus winced; it was the wrong shoulder. Someday he'd have to tell his friends about the location of the bite, because Remus still tended to panic when someone touched it unexpectedly. "What's wrong?" asked James, already turning to leave the classroom.

"I thought you were angry with me, that's all," said Remus in a low voice, and James swiveled around to give him an incredulous look.

"Why would we be angry with you?"

"I kept a secret, didn't I?"

James sighed. "Look, Loopy, there's a difference between being miffed and being angry. You don't have to tell us everything right away. That would take forever and a day."

"Ah... okay. Do you still want to know, then?"

"Of course we still want to know," said Sirius. "We're curious!"

"Okay," said Remus slowly. "This evening?"

"Sounds good," said Peter. He threaded his arm through Remus', and Remus looked at him happily. He was getting much more comfortable with Peter's constant, unexpected physical contact (as long as it wasn't on his left shoulder)—and he had to admit, it was nice after so many hours at the Registry, where everybody but his parents and Susi avoided him like the plague. "I didn't realize you were going to miss Potions class completely," whispered Peter. "I would have taken notes for you if I'd known."

Peter had taken notes in the notebook the day prior, which meant that Remus had been able to watch Peter's nearly-illegible handwriting appear on the page as he'd sat at the Registry and waited. It had been even better than being in class, since James and Sirius kept writing snarky comments all over Peter's notes. "It's all right, Peter," said Remus. "I'm perfectly capable of catching up on my own. We've got Charms next, right?"

"Yep, Charms," said James, and the four of them walked together, laughing and chatting, as if nothing had ever happened at all.

And Remus supposed that nothing had happened, after all—because no matter what happened, they liked him anyway. The hot-air balloon feeling came back, and Remus clutched Peter's arm even tighter for fear of floating away.

AN: I just found a ton of post-it notes that I'd lost! Wow, I'm excited—I love post-it notes.