Author's note: I just wanted to have a huge shout out to Pip who has been such a dear, wonderful friend and so supportive.

-x-

"Miss Fawley!"

After Divination class, Remus wanted nothing more than to hide in his dorm for the rest of the night and even after a hearty supper, he still wanted to simply disappear. However his day wasn't over yet; he had to meet with Miss Fawley. Not that this was a bad thing, he was just really tired.

"Remus!"

Fawley held her arms out and Remus ran into them, hugging her tightly. The comforting, familiar scent of lavender washed over him and he resisted the urge to bury his face into her chest. One of her hands pressed against his back while the other stroked his hair. Her lips went against his forehead in a brief kiss before they pulled apart, sitting back on the squashy purple sofa that had been placed in the otherwise empty classroom for their lessons.

"How have you been? How was your summer? How are classes going?" she asked, crossing one leg over the other and leaning forward, eager to hear. Her pale eyes were focused on his general area.

"Summer was… summer," he said, slumping down on the sofa. "Boring. I'm very glad to be back."

"Boring?" she asked. "Nothing else?"

He shrugged, plucking at the cuff of his robes. Summer—or rather, home was not a good topic for the two of them to discuss. "Yeah. Lessons have been good. It's wonderful to be in class again. I'm really excited to see what all I get to learn this year."

"Something is wrong," she noted. "I can tell."

He bit his bottom lip, tugging at a loose string. "Divination," he finally admitted. "It was… hard."

"Professor Hawkwood is still the teacher, isn't he?" she asked and when he confirmed that, she said, "So you had tarot, then."

"Mm. Yes." He yanked the string away from his robes and began balling it up.

"What did you get?"

He let out a sigh, squashing the ball and watching it spring back apart, unraveling a bit. "Dave Struthers has a fantastic beasts tarot deck." He dropped the string with another sigh. "The moon card is a werewolf transforming."

"He pulled for you?" she asked softly.

"The moon was my past," he muttered.

Fawley nodded, tucking her hair back behind one ear. Her hair was in a long white sheet cascading past her shoulders and was, in Remus's opinion, very pretty. "That is, unfortunately, very fitting, if I remember what the moon represents. It's been a while since I've used tarot."

"Yeah, it is fitting." He ran his fingers along his thighs, not wanting to talk about this. Not wanting to tell her he was given a card that meant isolation for his future.

"And your other classes?"

He couldn't help but smile. "Oh, Ancient Runes is fascinating! I think I'm going to love that class. Magical Creatures is… um, well, I'm not sure yet, our first lesson was kinda weird. We held a dying ashwinder. And Arithmancy… I don't know, I guess it feels strange to give everything in the world numbers and use those to… find things. Decide things. I—I did like Divination," he admitted. "I think it's… it could be really interesting too. I did like… using the tarot desk and looking up the meanings and trying to figure out what they might mean…" He shook his head. "Muggle Studies is going to be a lot of fun. The others had a terrific time there. I think it's the first time they were given an assignment and were excited to do it."

"Oh?"

"We were given Muggle records—albums—and told to write a short essay on how the music makes us feel," he explained.

Fawley smiled. "I'm glad you're enjoying yourself. Do you think you'll continue Arithmancy?"

He was startled to hear the question even though it was something he himself had been wondering. "Yes," he finally said. "Yes. I want to continue. At least, as of right now I do. Even though it's not as interesting as the other classes, I still liked it well enough."

"Good. And your new Defense teacher? Do you think they are… going to be understanding?"

It felt like it had been a year since Remus and Professor Charlemagne spoke in the little room next to the Great Hall. "I think so. He said… he doesn't really… uh… he's afraid of werewolves. But that he wants to… do better. Er, his name is Charlemagne. Um Professor Sylvain Charlemagne. Do you know him?" he added when she raised an eyebrow.

"No," she said, a little slowly. "I thought I recognized the name but I don't think I do."

"His sister taught at Beauxbatons," Remus explained. "She taught my father. Professor Charlemagne—oh! Er, his nephew has come to the school too. I'm helping him since he doesn't know much English. I'm not completely sure why they chose me though, except Professor Charlemagne said he thought it was a happy coincidence that his sister taught my father and now I can help his nephew."

"Why is it strange they chose you?" Fawley inquired.

"Jean-Marie is a fourth year," he explained. "And a Ravenclaw. I don't know why I was chosen at all, even with the distant connection. I mean, I don't know why McGonagall even offered me as a suggestion even if he had been in Gryffindor. I'm sure there are plenty of fourth years that can help."

"Do you not want to help?"

He wriggled a little. "I—it's not that I don't want to help. I like helping him—we met last night to see how things might go—it's… it's that it feels strange that they've got a third year helping." Fawley was smiling in a rather smug way. "What?"

"I think it's very obvious why Minerva chose you."

Remus sat up at that, narrowing his eyes. "Is it?"

"Yes." Now Fawley laughed. "You can't figure it out?"

He searched his brain for any thread of a clue and found nothing. "No. Other than the distant connection, which I don't think she even knew about until after she gave him my name."

"Hmm."

Irritation flared up. Hmm? That was it? "Why do you think she chose me?" he wanted to know.

"I'll let you try to figure it out yourself," she said, smoothing her skirt over one knee.

He gave a slight groan at that. He hated when people did things like that. "Hmph."

Fawley gave a slight giggle which made her seem so much younger. He wasn't quite sure of her age, only that he thought she was in her middle thirties. Around his mother's age.

"Now, how about we talk about your letter," she said and for a second he was confused. "You said there was a specific memory you wished to explore…? Something that has been giving you nightmares that your parents won't talk about?"

Suddenly everything disappeared inside of him except the sharp need to know. "Yes," he squeaked out. "Yes."

"Have you continued to have nightmares?"

"Yes," he said again. "They're not as bad as they were over the summer but they're still there." He dug his fingertips into his thighs, feeling a sort of dizzying sensation as he wondered if he was about to see when he was bitten. How would he react?

What exactly would he see?

"Right." Fawley shifted herself so both feet were on the ground and she was leaning closer to him. "How young were you?"

He swallowed, not sure if he should tell her. If he told her she might not agree. "I was… young."

"As I said in my letter, the younger you were the more difficult it might be to delve into the memory."

He sucked in a deep breath at that. "Four." She was silent. "I w-was… four."

"Remus—" She reached up, pinching the bridge of her nose. "Is this about what I think it is?"

"Yes," he whispered, hanging his head. "I want to know about my bite."

She stood up quickly. For a fearful second Remus thought she might simply leave. Instead she paced a few steps, arms folded across her chest, shoulders hunched. Then she whirled around, facing Remus's direction. "No."

He leapt to his feet. "Please! Miss—"

"You were four, it's going to be extremely difficult—"

"I need to know!" She went quiet, lips pressed tight together. "My parents won't tell me."

"At all?" she asked.

Remus grit his teeth. "No! They—they say it's too emotional for my mother. My father won't even talk about it with me. It's a forbidden, taboo subject, and—and I know nothing! Miss Fawley, I've had so many nightmares since—since I saw Twycross's boggart. Since I saw the wolf. I—I had these peculiar thoughts when I did. I thought they might be memories of—of when it happened but they can't be. All these things in my head can't be what actually happened and if I know what did happen maybe I'll stop!"

"Why can't they have happened?" she asked.

He curled his hands into fists. "The strongest ones are…" He stopped, his chest aching as the horrific, blurry images filled his head. "There's someone in my room. And then I fall out the window, into the wolf's jaws. It bites me then lets me go. It—it licks me. There's also laughter. Someone laughing. Someone shouting at my father. Then—then I think I'm in the kitchen and Mum is singing as she tries to save me and—" His nose began burning at this. "She's yelling at my father who doesn't help."

Miss Fawley didn't say anything.

"It's ridiculous," he spat out. "There wasn't anyone in my room, and there couldn't have been someone laughing about it, or shouting at my father that I was—"

"You were what?" she asked.

He didn't want to say the word. "I don't know," he lied. "I can't remember the words. I couldn't have fallen out my window. It's all so… wrong!"

Fawley frowned, her forehead wrinkling as she thought about this. "What do you believe happened?"

"I don't know!" he cried out. "I don't know what happened! I—I'm guessing that I wandered outside! Maybe… maybe I dropped something out my window. Maybe that's why I think I fell. I could have dropped a toy or book and decided to go out to get it."

"Are you certain?" Fawley tilted her head to one side. "Are you absolutely certain you want to attempt to see this memory?"

"Yes."

She slowly nodded, returning to the couch. "Very well. I don't think we'll attempt this tonight. I don't think I'm ready today, to go into a memory like that on purpose." Remus sat back down on the couch too, heart pounding. I'm going to find out the truth. Eventually. Not tonight was all right with him, he was very tired. As long as they did it eventually. "One thing we did need to discuss is when we should meet up for your lessons. Do you still want to claim Wednesday nights until James finds out his practice schedule?"

"Yeah."

"And which day is best for you?"

Remus thought about his jammed timetable. "Dunno. All my days are… I—I suppose Thursday is the worst day, though not by much. I only have two free periods every day except for Thursday, I only have one on that, so I don't suppose it matters much."

"Very well, I'll inform Albus our chosen day is Wednesday and then after we get James's schedule we can change days. Did you want to try to meet tomorrow or wait till next—" Fawley stopped, realizing what she was about to say. "Wait until the nineteenth?"

He didn't want to wait that long but it made a lot of sense to do it this way. "By that point James will probably have his schedule. Try-outs start next week. That will give us one meeting on Wednesday, and then we can change it."

Fawley nodded. "Very well. The nineteenth it is. Do you want to attempt some tonight?"

No, he didn't, he felt tired and miserable. "Yeah, we can at least do a little bit," he said, trying not to sound as weary as he felt.

When she reached out for him, he had a brief thought to purposely think about the night he was bitten. The scraps of maybe-memories-maybe-not that were flitting around his head. But she didn't want to, so he instead focused on being a blank book. Empty white pages. No memories. Nothing.

Instead, the two of them saw Remus throwing up in his toilet at home before collapsing down to cry. Immediately Fawley pulled out since she never stayed in any memory where he was alone, and Remus withdrew, pressing his fingers against his temple. At least Fawley hadn't seen what Hope had been yelling right before that moment.

"What happened?" she asked softly.

"Nothing important. A fight with my mother," he said, tugging at his sleeves.

"Not your father?"

He clenched his teeth. "No."

Fawley paused, weighing this, then went back into his head. Despite trying all summer to be a blank book he was very out of practice. Fawley easily tore through anything he attempted to put up and it wasn't long before his head was aching. He pushed himself until Fawley noticed he wasn't doing well, and she cut their time together short.

After promising to be careful the following week—during the full moon—Remus hugged Fawley before trudging out of the room. His head pounded, feeling worse with each step until it finally started subsiding. It was an hour before curfew and normally he'd go to the library but tonight he couldn't, he just couldn't. He went straight to the Gryffindor tower, pausing briefly by the sofa where the other Marauders sat. Sirius was cross-legged, his long legs taking up most of the room on the couch. Peter perched in a corner, and James sat on the back of the couch behind him with his legs on either side of Peter, bent in close as he carefully picked at Pete's hair.

"Not my fault," James said as soon as he noticed Remus standing there. He wriggled his elbow in Sirius's direction. "His."

"Not mine!" Sirius protested. "I told Peter not to move—"

"You did no such thing!" Peter snapped. "You just laughed and went 'whoops' when it hit me!"

Sirius cracked a grin and gave a very 'oops' sort of shrug. "Maybe a bit."

Peter let out a loud 'hah'. "What? A bit? You said 'whoops' a bit?"

"A bit," Sirius giggled. "A bit of 'whoops'. Whoo."

"Shut up."

"Whoooo."

"When what hit you?" Remus inquired.

Peter turned his head to show tiny, wriggly things globbed up in his hair. "James's new invention," he grumbled. "Sticking solution and enchanted confetti."

James scrunched his face up. "We were trying to throw them at some Slytherins. Sirius's aim was off."

"Was not," Sirius said, running his fingers through his own hair. "My aim was perfectly fine. Peter put his head in the way. We did get Urswick good though."

"You threw them at girls?" Remus asked.

"We did after she hit Petey with a gagging hex," James said, pausing in his work to push his glasses back up his nose.

Sirius finally unfolded his legs and scrunched up against the end of the couch, patting the cushion between him and Peter. "Come on, sit down, tell us about how Fawley's doing. What's the plan?"

Remus glanced around the common room nervously. There were a lot of Gryffindors milling about. "Later. I'm going to lay down. Look, the slime spell should help dissolve some of the sticking solution, those two don't go well together." He flicked the spell at Peter's hair. Peter let out a loud YURRRCKK and there was a lot of laughter as green slime glooped down off his ears, all over his uniform. "Whoops, bit more than I meant, sorry I—"

"FIRST SIRIUS, NOW YOU TOO!" Peter shrieked, diving for Remus who bolted for the stairs, shouting apologies over his shoulder. He made it to the dorm safely and locked the door behind him, ignoring Peter pounding at the wood, demanding to be let in. Finally, Peter stormed off after giving him a few threats.

Remus unlocked the door before going to his bed, collapsing down among the comfortable blanket and cool pillow. He lay there, face down, for quite some time before forcing himself to get back up and start working on some of the assignments he already had.

-x-

Wednesday was another long day for Remus, made even longer when he woke up and realized that his skin felt uncomfortable. By the time he got to breakfast he knew it was one of those days where he couldn't stand touch. Anytime one of the others bumped against him he felt a flare of disgust and discomfort. When James grabbed his shoulders on the way to Potions, Remus jerked away so hard he banged into a statue. He claimed he had been startled by the grabbing, and thankfully his friends believed him. None of them knew that sometimes touch was agonizing for him and he intended on keeping it that way.

After two hours sweating over making a potion that turned into a disaster anyway, earning him barely an A for his efforts, Remus was glad when Potions let out. To his surprise, even though the Marauders sprang out from the classroom, James stopped in the hallway. He stood there with his arms folded, watching the other students coming out, not answering any questions from the others about why he was doing this.

"Ah!" He skipped over, seizing Aegis by the arm. "Silverlocke!" He yanked Aegis back over to the Marauders, Aegis looking slightly dazed, as if he had been hit by a train. "We were going to go listen to our records. Do you have a free period next?"

"N-no." Aegis shifted, his posture stiff until James let go of his arm; at that, his shoulders marginally relaxed. "I have Herbology. I do have a free period at eleven…"

"We've got Defense," James sighed. "Hey, how about lunch? We could eat lunch outside and listen to our albums. If you want."

Aegis glanced at Remus who gave a slight shrug. It wasn't his decision. "Erm. I—I suppose that—yes."

James clapped his hands. "Excellent! Meet us in the entrance hall at noon? Righty-o, see you then!"

After Defense (which was mostly just a lecture and Charlemagne asking tons of questions), James and Peter went to the dorms to get the record player while Sirius and Remus raided the kitchen for food. The house-elves weren't too fond of Sirius, but they loved Remus at least. They happily put together a large hamper full of food, more than enough for five growing, starving teenage boys. Sirius was quiet during most of this, not saying much of anything while they waited in the entrance hall.

Aegis showed up before James and Peter returned, hesitating slightly. "The others are on their way back from the dorm," Remus explained.

"Ah." Aegis ran his finger up and down the inside of his satchel's strap, trying not to look at Sirius. "If… I—I…" He trailed off, giving up.

"How was Herbology?" Remus asked, trying to fill the awkward silence. Sirius wasn't helping anything by standing a few feet away, looking visibly impatient. He wanted to shake Sirius by the shoulders and demand he be more respectful. Even if Sirius didn't like Aegis, he could be a little bit nicer!

A moment later James and Peter dashed down the stairs, James crashing into a group of sixth year Ravenclaws on the way. The sixth years shouted at him to be more careful and James gave them the two finger salute without looking back.

"Does he not watch where he is going?" Aegis asked.

"Not really, and when he does he simply doesn't care," Remus replied.

At least having a picnic outside meant they could sprawl out. Remus didn't need to worry about sitting too close to any of his friends and accidentally bumping against them. He was able to sit a few feet away from everyone else, having plenty of space around him.

The first album they listened to was Aegis's. The music seemed as… flowery as the album cover looked. The first song that played was very delicate and whimsical. It was called Scarborough Fair/Canticle and it made Remus feel like they should be sitting in a flower-filled meadow. He personally liked the music and could tell Peter did too. James quietly ate his food, not reacting. Sirius, on the other hand, kept snorting and rolling his eyes as he read a magazine. The next song—Patterns—wasn't quite as airy and this time James drummed his hand against his thigh to the tune.

Up a narrow flight of stairs, in a narrow little room, as I lie upon my bed in the early evening gloom. Impaled on my walls my eyes can dimly see the pattern of my life and the puzzle that is me.

The lyric seized hold of Remus's chest, making him feel things. He tried to sort these feelings out, wondering how on earth he could explain what was going on inside of him until he realized this wasn't his album to write an essay about. This was Aegis's. That was a bit of a relief, but also he wanted to hear the song again. They didn't play it again, of course; they kept playing the album until it reached a song called Flowers Never Bend With The Rainfall. As soon as it ended Remus knew that was the song Aegis was going to write about. He could see it clearly on Aegis's face.

"Could you play that one again, if it is not too much trouble?" he asked.

James sat up, moving the needle back.

Through the corridors of sleep past shadows dark and deep, my mind dances and leaps in confusion. I don't know what is real, I can't touch what I feel, and I hide behind the shield of my illusion.

It was a very good song too, though Remus thought he preferred Patterns. Aegis sat up, staring at the record as the song played, and quietly asked if they could play it one more time. This time he pulled paper and a quill out, writing furiously as the song played.

"You can turn it off," Aegis said when the song finished. "I have what I need. Er, we did only need one song, didn't we?"

"Yeah, that's what I got from it," Peter answered.

Aegis nodded, reaching up to tuck a loose strand of hair behind his ear. He had ink on his fingers and left a streak near his ear. "Thank you so much, Mr. Potter. I really appreciate you allowing me the use of your record player."

"Please. James. Mr. Potter is my father. Actually, Monty is my father, he hates Mr. Potter too." James was on his back, arms stretched up above him. "I don't suppose Aegy works, does it?" Then he laughed when Aegis blanched. "JOKING! I'm joking. I won't call you that."

"And you can call me Peter," Pete said happily.

Aegis looked at the two of them, a faint smile on his face. "Thank you." He finished off his food, took his album, thanked them again, and left.

They watched him cross the grounds to the castle and as soon as he was out of earshot James said, "Could have been a bit subtler, Siri-wiri."

"What did I do?!" Sirius demanded hotly. "Jimsy-wimsy."

"Sat there with a face like you were eating a lemon," James retorted. "You didn't even say a single word to him. I know you hate him—"

"I don't hate him!" Sirius argued, obviously uncomfortable. "He's—it's—the thing is…" He trailed off, blanching slightly. "It's hard, all right? Trusting a Slytherin. I know there are exceptions." He shifted his gaze to Remus who had a strange feeling that Sirius was now lying to him about why he didn't like Aegis. "I know he's your friend. I know you trust him. I know he's not… bad… it's just—it's hard. For me. All my life almost every single Slytherin in my life has been absolute shit except for," he began ticking off his fingers, "Andromeda and Uncle Alphard, and now Regulus. That's about it. It's not a good track record." He pushed his hair back, letting out a sigh. "I am trying. I guess I need to try harder."

Remus wasn't sure what to say to that. Finally he settled on, "I'm glad you at least want to try." Sirius gave him a strange look and he was worried he had said the wrong thing. "But," he added quickly, "if you really don't want to be around him you don't have to be. It's all right. I understand."

Sirius rubbed the edge of his nose, closing his eyes. "I want to try. Ugh," he moaned, grabbing his satchel. "I need to use the loo before Herbology starts. I'll see you there." His long legs made quick work of the distance between them and the castle before any of them could figure out if they needed to go too.