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"Cedric just told us," Zacharias pushed the door to their classroom open. It was still early in the morning. The first subject on their schedule was Defense Against the Dark Arts. "We'll play Gryffindor next weekend. It's pretty short notice, but Malfoy, the sniveling coward says his arm hurts too much to play."

As he spoke, Zacharias stepped aside to let the other students pass before him. Kakashi used the opportunity to get into the room as well. Draco Malfoy was sitting against the edge of a table in the second row, glaring at the entering Hufflepuffs. Clearly, he heard Zacharias' insult.

"We all know, Flint just doesn't want to play in that weather," Wayne Hopkins said, as he entered after Kakashi. He retorted Draco's glare as if to dare him to deny it.

To Kakashi, it was a rather unnecessary game to get a rise out of the Slytherins that had Defense Against the Dark Arts with them.

"It's unfair," Zacharias nodded along. He yawned midsentence. "But what can you expect from Slytherin? They're snakes, after all."

"Five points from Hufflepuff, Mr. Smith," an unexpected voice snarled from behind Zacharias. The blonde boy—still standing in the door—froze. As he finally turned around, he had to crane his neck to see Professor Snape standing right behind him. "And if you don't move to your seat in an instant, I will take another five points."

Zacharias swallowed, but he didn't move. Instead, he squared his shoulders and Kakashi had the impression that he was preparing for a battle. "What are you doing here?" the boy growled. "Where's Professor Lupin?"

"Mr. Smith," Snape sighed as if he was reprimanding a child much younger than Zacharias. "Do I really need to take another five points before you will behave yourself?"

Before Zacharias could make it worse, Wayne pulled him at his sleeve and to their seats in the third row.

Kakashi stayed for a moment longer, curious, what Snape was doing here before he followed the other two boys.

While he pulled his schoolbook, quill, and ink from his bag, Snape went to the teachers' desk, and with a flick of his wand, the shutters in the room closed, making the place instantly as dark as Snape's normal classroom in the dungeons. Kakashi began to think, Snape had a dislike for the sun, even though it was barely up yet. The day had just started, and if Kakashi could look outside, he'd still see the moon big and round against the orange and blue of the morning sky.

It got very silent too. Even the Slytherins, who—from all he knew—weren't intimidated by Snape the same way the Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs were, with whom Kakashi had his Potions classes, sat without daring to ask what Snape was doing here.

Finally, it was Susan Bones who couldn't stay quiet any longer. "Professor?" she raised her hand and spoke as soon as Snape's black eyes landed on her. "Professor, where is Professor Lupin?"

"Sadly," Snape dragged the word as if it was his birthday and not sad at all, "sadly, Professor Lupin is indisposed." His beet-black eyes roamed the room daring them to complain. "I will be his substitute until he can return."

"Bloody hell," Zacharias muttered under his breath. "I'd prefer anybody else." To accentuate his anger, he smacked the book open so loudly, that Kakashi flinched from the noise.

Snape's eyes narrowed at the row of Hufflepuff boys, then they were all distracted when Draco snorted loudly. "Maybe Black got him," he said in mock pittance. "I haven't seen Lupin since Friday."

Thinking back on it, Draco was right. The last time Kakashi saw Lupin had been just before the Halloween feast. He hadn't been at the feast, nor at any of the meals in the Great Hall since then.

Snape's upper lip curled a little, finding some amusement in Draco's assumption, then he took a sharp turn to the chalkboard. "I can guarantee you, you'll have your Defense against the Dark Arts teacher back, soon," he said against the board, as he started to write. The chalk squeaked and creaked disgustingly against the hard surface. Kakashi was certain, Snape did it on purpose. The sound made his skin crawl. "Until then…"

Werewolves.

Kakashi stared at the single word that Snape scrawled all over the chalkboard. Last he knew, they were supposed to read the chapter on Hinkypunks in preparation for this class. Werewolves, he knew, were one of the last topics in their book. He knew because he'd read the whole book, trying to find something on Dementors, but clearly, the waif-like creatures weren't part of the third-year curriculum.

Zacharias next to him stared at the chapter about Hinkypunks that he had opened before. On the first page, a graphite sketch of the creature looked a lot more intimidating than it really was. Slowly, he flicked to the next page and the next, then to the end of the book, until he found 'The Vampire' and just after that: 'The Werewolf'.

"We were just supposed to start Hinkypunks, what the fuck?" Zacharias grumbled as he read the first few lines.

Snape heard him. "Does the topic not excite you, Mr. Smith? Maybe you already know all about it? What's the difference between a Werewolf and an Animagus?"

Zacharias looked up at the teacher. His eyes narrowed a bit, then he glanced back down to the book, trying to find the answer on the first page. Kakashi, who had read the whole book and committed most of its content to memory, raised his hand. Immediately he caught Snape's eyes glaring at him.

Slowly, the teacher walked between the tables, coming ever closer to the row where the Hufflepuff boys sat, until he stood right in front of Zacharias.

"Uhm," Zacharias said when the silence became too much, pressuring him to talk. "The Animagus… I mean the Werewolf only turns at the full moon?"

"Are you asking me?" Snape hissed back.

Zacharias blinked. "No…"

"What's the difference? Can I get a clear answer?"

Looking for help, Zacharias turned to Wayne, but his eyes snapped forward right away when Snape smacked the edge of the desk with his fat hand.

"Don't ask Mr. Hopkins," Snape warned. "You sounded so unhappy with the subject I chose, so I was sure you already knew and therefore deemed it unnecessary to pay attention."

Zacharias bit his lip, his jaw trembled slightly. It was rare to see Zacharias so shook. Normally, he was a confident boy, even arrogant and mean at times. "I'm sorry," he squeaked.

"I'm sure Professor McGonagall will be disappointed to know how little you pay attention in her class."

Kakashi had enough of this. All this time, he had still raised his hand, now he spoke even though, Snape hadn't asked him to. "Professor, I can—"

"Maybe instead, you can tell us how to differentiate a real wolf from a werewolf?"

"The snout of the werewolf," Kakashi started, before Zacharias had a chance to speak, "is shorter—"

"Nobody asked you, Mr. Major!" Kakashi didn't back down when Snape stared at him. "I want to hear it from Mr. Smith here, who appreciates my teachings so little."

"The…The snout," Zacharias started, glancing at Kakashi, "of a werewolf is a bit shorter than that of a real wolf."

"And?" Snape asked impatiently. "What are you? A parrot?"

He snatched Zacharias' book from his desk, flipped through the pages in a way that Kakashi couldn't see what he was searching for.

"I thought it's just Potions that you're useless at…" Some of the Slytherins in front of them snickered. "What did you say you were doing? Hinkypunks? Where can you commonly find Hinkypunks, Mr. Smith?"

Even though Zacharias probably knew the answer when he entered the room, it was all gone now. With huge eyes and a trembling jaw, he stared at the teacher, stuttering a quiet reply that was unintelligible even to Kakashi sitting right next to him.

"What was that?"

"That is enough," Kakashi said. If Snape weren't standing right in front of him, he would've snuck Zacharias the answers a long time ago. This way, however, he couldn't help.

"You have something to say—Major?" There was a small hesitation in Snape's voice, reminding Kakashi that he could expose his real name whenever he wanted, but Kakashi knew it was just an empty threat. Snape wouldn't go against Dumbledore's word. He was a relentless bully against his students, but he respected the headmaster.

"The Hinkypunk lives in bogs and wetlands. The Werewolf has a shorter snout than a real wolf, more human-like eyes, and a tufted tail. That is of course only on the full moon, at other days, they are indistinguishable from normal humans, though it happens that they are or appear sickly right before and after a full moon—"

He stopped there, realizing, that the full moon had just passed. That was the night of Halloween…And what had Draco Malfoy said? Nobody saw Lupin since before the feast.

The puzzle pieces quickly moved into place. Lupin had been pale at the beginning of the term too and then he had appeared unhealthy in late September again. Kakashi had already wondered about the cyclical development of Professor Lupin's health, and he had seen Snape bringing Lupin a potion just before the Halloween feast. He still remembered the way the disgusting taste and stench of Wolfsbane was described in the book.

It all made sense. Lupin's sickness, the potion, and the way he sometimes smelled of dog and predator. The realization came so suddenly, that he forgot to answer Snape's very first question.

Still, it was enough to annoy Snape. Kakashi saw the veins on his forehead bulge, and the way his jaw worked against his teeth. "Very well, Major," he forced the words through a tightly clenched jaw. "I see you're as much of a know-it-all as you are in Potions. Maybe you should lead the class then if you already know everything."

Kakashi smiled back evilly. "Maybe I should, since you're clearly not doing it, Professor."

Even a few of the Slytherins couldn't suppress their disbelieving laughter. Snape's very pale complexion darkened at least two shades, his Adam's apple popped as he swallowed down his anger.

"Ten points from Hufflepuff, and see me after class, Major, so I can give you your detention."

It was immediately worth it, when Snape turned, and Zacharias' shoulders dropped just a little bit in relief, though the tension didn't leave completely. Even less so when Malfoy cackled: "Is he crying? Damn, I was rooting for Hufflepuff in the upcoming game, but if all of them are such wimps, Gryffindor will wipe the floor with the whole team."

Remus was restless all night. He was supposed to find sleep and peace after his tumultuous shift on Halloween night. Despite the Wolfsbane, the werewolf had been especially restless, as if it instinctively knew of the presence of an old friend. Of course, Lupin only found out about that much later, and he wondered if that was the reason for the wolf's behavior. In any case, after the full moon, he woke up aching and tired, and with the news that Black had snuck into the castle and was just a portrait and a badly chosen date away from killing Harry while Lupin was uselessly locked into his own room, sleep hadn't come easy.

That morning, he didn't want to miss his classes, determined not to let his condition ruin this new job, but he just felt too exhausted. His body ached as if he'd been run over by a horde of hippogriffs, and he was so tired, his eyes threatened to fall shut any moment.

And yet, he could not sleep.

Black was out there, waiting for an opportune moment. He already made it into the castle once, and although he hadn't found Harry that time, knowing that he could make it in and out of the castle undetected would only give him more confidence, Lupin feared.

How could he still lie around lazily, not doing anything, while his best friend's son was in such peril? It was impossible for him to reconcile his heart's need for action with his body's desire for rest. An impossible conundrum, that left him unable to do either, which made everything so much worse.

Normally, he'd be up and running a day after a full moon, now it had already been two days and all he wanted to do was to sneak past Dumbledore so the headmaster wouldn't see the rings under his eyes and the pallor of his skin, so he could start teaching again, and distract himself with his job. But he was too tired for that.

He should help in the search for Sirius Black, at least. He should tell them about Black's Animagus form. Years ago, he told himself, that there was no need to tell anybody, as long as Black was safely locked away. Then he had fled, and Remus thought it was his fault, that he hadn't told anybody, yet he still remained quiet, thinking it would throw a bad light on him, that he had kept silent so long.

He would tell them, he told himself, if Black ever became a real danger to Harry.

It was time. He couldn't keep these secrets any longer, not if exposing Black would mean Harry was safe from his parent's false friend. The secrets, all the little things he knew about Sirius Black, didn't begin nor end with the precise description of the man's Animagus form.

Black knew the secret passages through the castle. Maybe he even had possession of the Marauder's Map. Last Remus saw it, Filch had confiscated the map from them, but there was no guarantee, that Black hadn't gone back to steal it for himself. It was definitely possible. Who knew how long Black's pretense had lasted, whether his lies reached as far back as their Hogwarts years? Those secret passageways would explain how he entered the castle and how he left unseen.

If only, it hadn't been a full moon. While the staff and the Dementors failed to find the intruder, Lupin would've known where to look. But of course, time was against him. Lupin was angry at himself. His condition had put enough of a strain on his life, now it also kept him from keeping his students safe.

Had Sirius known? Was there a chance he knew that Remus was in Hogwarts, and had chosen the day when the only teacher who knew his true form, would be sick and uselessly locked in his room?

Remus shook his head. How would Sirius have known? Remus wasn't like Gilderoy Lockhart, and the Daily Prophet didn't deem it necessary to print an article about him teaching in Hogwarts this year. Never mind, if Black had paid attention to the date, surely, he wouldn't have chosen Halloween night, when most students weren't even in their dorms.

He ended up making a list. Instead of sleeping, the way Madame Pomfrey told him to, he lit a fire in his chimney and sat at the desk to write down everything he knew. He had shared a dorm with Sirius Black for seven years after all. They'd spent almost every full moon, and many other nights roaming the castle together. After graduation, they fought side by side. Even if Black had fooled them, not all of it could've been a lie. Nobody was such a good liar that he could keep a perfect lie going for so many years if there wasn't at least some truth to make the falsehoods believable.

So, Remus knew Sirius. Clearly, he had never really known who his friend truly was, but still…he knew him well enough. He knew him enough, so he could think back and try to remember.

What would Sirius do?

Immediately, he found himself at an impasse. Because the Sirius Black he remembered, was too smart to forget the date. The Sirius Black he knew, if he wanted to kill a student in the dorms, wouldn't have chosen Halloween to attack. And even if he had temporarily forgotten the date, even if Azkaban truly left him so mad and out of his mind, that he didn't know that it was Halloween, he would've noticed the moment he entered Hogwarts grounds. The decoration wasn't exactly subtle. Hagrid's huge pumpkins standing to both sides of the main gate were just the beginning of a very thorough and very tacky Halloween decoration that permeated the entire castle.

Remus knew that Filch had found and closed some of the passages. Black wouldn't know which, so, mapping out the path in his mind, Remus realized, that Black likely passed the Great Hall on his way. Did he not hear the feast going on in the Great Hall, or see the huge pumpkins everywhere?

It made no sense.

To miss something so obvious… It meant, he wasn't acting rationally, and a Sirius Black who couldn't act rationally… Remus had no idea what he would do.

He put the quill aside and went to his window. It had started to rain early in the afternoon, and a thick carpet of dark clouds hung over the sky, barely allowing any sunlight to breach through. The weather promised to be bad all week. Further down, through the veil of rain drumming against the castle walls, Remus saw the Whomping Willow. The Sirius he knew would seek refuge there.

Or maybe not. Maybe, the Sirius he knew, was too afraid that Dumbledore would search there, after all, Dumbledore knew…Dumbledore had to have known. All their strolls through school grounds—back then, they thought they could sneak past the teachers, but as an adult, Lupin was certain, that surely, Dumbledore had known about their nightly activities.

He flinched and shrieked back when a dementor passed his window just a bit too closely. They were everywhere now. Ever since he woke up from his shift, the Dementors had been too close for comfort. When before they stuck to the outer rim of the school grounds, now they hovered dangerously close to the castle, from the quidditch pitch to Hagrid's hut, from the lake all the way to the greenhouses.

A group of students made their way from Hagrid's Care for Magical Creatures class—it was the last class of the day for them. At least, the Dementors had the decency to keep some distance, yet they were close enough to be seen, close enough to be felt, Remus was sure.

He shuddered.

The Dementor's kiss… Did Black really deserve that? Death, surely, but the kiss?

If anybody deserves it, it's him!

And yet, he couldn't bring himself to truly believe it. Just thinking about it, made him feel sick. Despite what Black did to the Potters, to Peter—to Remus, all of them, that he betrayed—when Remus tried to imagine Black receiving the Dementor's kiss, he couldn't imagine him as anyone other than the friend he shared his meals with.

The death eater, the murderer, the traitor… That Sirius Black was a stranger to him. No matter how much he tried to picture the face he saw almost daily on the wanted posters, in his heart, even twelve years later, Sirius was just the boy he spent his childhood with, one of his best friends.

To imagine that boy without his soul…

He couldn't do it. Death! Death was one thing. Maybe, if Black died, Remus could finally find peace. But to lose his soul? It was too cruel. He couldn't bring himself to have a hand in it.

He never even hesitated before he crumpled the piece of parchment in his hand. He couldn't do it. It was not a matter of reason or rationality, nor a matter of fairness, really. Black had betrayed them, surely it was only fair to betray him back. Black had killed his friends, surely it was only fair if Remus destroyed him in turn… And yet, he just couldn't. He wasn't like that.

The absurdity brought a snort to lips. His throat was so dehydrated, it hurt.

"Sirius Black," he whispered against the window of his room, "from the oh so noble house of Black." On paper, Remus—the werewolf, the beast in a man's shape—should be the monster. By all rights, stereotypically, he ought to be the cruel and violent one and yet, he couldn't bring himself to do to Black, what Black would undoubtedly do to him.

The irony of it made him almost angry, yet he was too tired to truly rage against it. Sometimes, he wondered, if Black had been betting on these stereotypes. When the Potters decided to make Black their secret keeper how big of a role had Remus' condition played? Was that the reason, they hadn't trusted him with the job. And surely Peter, shy and quiet Peter, who would've burdened him with such responsibility?

He was brought out of his wandering thought when he saw a figure hurry through the rain. It was a student, he thought, though the darkness under the clouds made it hard to see. The cloak, Remus thought, was part of the school uniform. However, he couldn't recognize who he was, nor even his house.

It was a boy, from the way the figure moved, but he couldn't be certain. At first, he assumed, the kid had a big belly, as the cloak was oddly protruding, then he realized, they were carrying something under their cloak. Suddenly, the figure stopped. They were halfway from the main gate to the Whomping Willow, standing in the pouring rain.

Curious, Remus leaned forward, feeling the cold glass of the window.

They just stood there, still as a statue. The rain made it hard to see. For a moment, he wondered, if he saw right at all, or maybe it was just an optical illusion in the rain. Then the figure turned. Hurrying, they ran down the path to Hagrid's hut.

Just before they reached the fence of Hagrid's garden where until recently fat pumpkins had grown, there was a crack of thunder.

It was a right spectacle. White and blue lightning zapped along the dark clouds like a spark of fire. It lit up the sky and the world underneath, throwing chaotic shadows across the grounds. The light reflected off the water on Remus' window and for the smallest fraction of a moment, he was entirely blinded by it.

The whole thing was over before he could hear the thunder boom so loud, that it rattled the inkpot on his desk. Blinking, he looked back down to Hagrid's hut, but the figure was gone. It had merged with the black shape of the building, and even as Remus searched for it, he couldn't find the kid anywhere.

He never thought much of it. Mildly curious he wondered who would visit Hagrid at such a time, with the rain pouring down. He filed the question away for later, yet after throwing his list of information on Sirius Black into the chimney, and then going back to bed, he forgot all about it.

Sleep still wouldn't come easy, and when it came, it was wrecked by nightmares, that when he woke up the next morning feeling more miserable than before, he thought the boy in the rain had just been a part of his dreams.

Maybe, he wondered, Snape had done what Harry had warned him of, after all, and somehow poisoned his Wolfsbane. It wasn't normal for him to feel quite so miserable after a full moon.

Kakashi cowered between the roots of the Whomping Willow, waiting for the figure to leave. He had been right. His senses weren't easy to fool, so when he felt watched, he knew not to continue his path to the tree. The thunder had come as a godsend, allowing him a chance to get away.

Water was dripping from his hair into his eyes. And then down his cheek to the thick cloth of his cloak. The fabric was soaked and heavy on his shoulders. Minutely, he regretted not being able to do magic. There were so many nifty spells that could protect him from the rain. Of course, he'd lived through much worse on his missions, but normally, he wore clothes that didn't absorb so much of the rain.

At least, the package managed to stay dry under his cloak. Not wanting to shock Sirius into fleeing his hideout, Kakashi left the food neatly packed in the entrance to the secret tunnel. It was a long corridor, one he hadn't found on his nightly tours through the castle, yet. From the direction, and from how long it seemed, he assumed that it led out of school grounds, and possibly all the way to Hogsmeade. If Sirius knew such pathways, it would make helping him a lot easier. At least, Sirius would be able to move through the castle undetected.

He sighed. Really, he didn't plan this right. At best, when Sirius arrived, Kakashi had hoped that he could already present him with a captured rat, instead, everything moved much slower. He had gotten distracted with classes, with the people he met, with keeping his secrets, and with finding things to appease the Konoha elders. Now, truly, he didn't feel any closer to capturing be rat than he did the day he first met Ron and his false pet.

Christmas and the holidays couldn't come soon enough. As soon as he knew all the evidence against Sirius, he could formulate a plan and put it into motion.

Kakashi didn't want to linger. There was always a chance that Sirius would use the bad weather to come out and search the rat, and Kakashi wasn't certain that he was ready to meet Sirius and face his condemnation. Making sure it was safe to go, he looked back up at the castle.

Counting the windows and stories, he quickly found the right window. With the fire of the chimney framing the figure, it had been easy for him to find out, who was watching him. They were gone now. Where before, the dark figure had formed a stark contrast against the light, Kakashi only saw the flickering orange light of the chimney.

Remus Lupin. Kakashi knew the castle well enough, that he could sort the windows to the right rooms, and although he hadn't been able to recognize the watcher as more than a black silhouette, he knew that the window belonged to Professor Lupin's room.

Sick, and yet clearly, he was awake and able to stand at his window to watch the rain, yet not in a condition to teach or even attend meals for two days. Tonight, unlike last night, the moon would be covered by a blanket of clouds, but it would still be round and almost full, only slowly waning.

A werewolf. He was sure of it.

In fact, he was certain, that the only reason, Snape covered the subject was so some of the students could figure it out. From what little he had learned about the condition most parents probably wouldn't want their children to be taught by werewolves. As for him, he didn't mind it, so he filed the information away, not knowing if it could be useful later.

Thinking about Snape, he checked the time. He shouldn't be late for his detention, he gathered. After all, bedpans didn't clean themselves. Or maybe they did, in a magic castle, just not this week—this week, that was Kakashi's job.

And Ron's, it turned out, as he entered the hospital wing right on time, finding Harry's best friend already there.