James,

We have left you in the dark for two months now, and we're so, so, so, sorry, and we will explain everything, we promise. Terrible things have been happening here. Can you come home to us this Easter? Bring your friends, any friends you want, anyone from Hogwarts who wants to find out the truth. We're once again so, so sorry for not contacting you.

From Mum and Dad

James let out a long sigh of relief. I'd been reading over his shoulder, and after I'd finished, my eyes widened as big as tennis balls.

"Can I come?" I cried. "Please, please, please."

"Yeah, of course," James responded, looking blankly down at the letter. "Sirius? Peter?"

"I would, but my mum…" Peter didn't need to say more.

"Um, yeah," Sirius said, speaking for the first time that morning. "Look, I'm sorry for being dramatic last night… I understand you're just trying to help."

"Yeah, I'm sorry too, mate," James replied. "If you want, make the howler. Just be careful, alright?"

Sirius nodded. None of us could stay angry at each other for very long. Sirius and Peter then went back to poring over the red envelope and James just stood up and stretched.

"I'm going to ask around for people who want to come to mine at Easter," he said, clutching the letter from his parents close like it was a small child that might slip from his hands at any moment. God, he'd be a good parent.

"I'll come too," I said, standing up as well. I didn't fancy sitting around watching Sirius and Peter plotting their revenge.

James and I walked slowly up to the Gryffindor table asking people if they wanted to know what was happening with their parents. Most people graciously said yes, and very few declined.

"Shame Evans is muggle-born," James sighed. I just rolled my eyes as we moved onto the Ravenclaws and the Hufflepuffs. When we were done, I knew the Potter household was going to be very full over Easter, which James was just chuffed about. When we were done, we went back to the dormitory to get ready for class.

"Remus," James said suddenly, picking up a textbook, "there's something I need to tell you."

"Yeah?"

"Well… don't tell Sirius I told you, he reckons we shouldn't, but… but Professor McGonagall…" he sighed, "Professor McGonagall's forbidden us from becoming Animagus."

"Oh."

"She said a few months ago, and we didn't have the heart to tell you, Sirius especially thought you'd be so upset…" he looked at me, his hazel eyes sad, "I'm so sorry."

"It… it's alright," I said, shrugging it off. I'd just have to be careful and make sure I was always locked up on a full moon.

"She also said," James continued, "that she'd be there instead."

"What?"

"As a cat, she'd keep you from hurting yourself on the full moon," James told me. "Said she needed some time to research but should be ready after the Easter break."

"Oh, um, I dunno about that…" It would be embarrassing enough to transform in front of my friends, but in front of a teacher?! That would be a nightmare. "Yeah, nah… think I'm going to have to talk her out of that one."

James sighed. "It's better than nothing, Remus. You're going to end up killing yourself one day if you don't get help."

"Alright, let's just get to class." I started heading out of the dormitory, and James followed me, blabbering on, trying to convince me not to talk to McGonagall.

We had History of Magic first. History of Magic, then Transfiguration. I planned to stay back during lunch and talk to Professor McGonagall. I had no idea what I was to say, and Professor Binns's drawling wasn't helping much with coming up with a mini script.

Transfiguration was as normal, and when the bell finally rang, I told my friends I'd see them in a minute. James tried again to stop me, but he was dragged out of the classroom by the crowd.

"Mr Lupin." Professor McGonagall looked down at me when I approached her. She was only an inch taller than me now. "Can I help you?"

"Yes, I just wanted to speak to you about something James told me," I said, trying to sound mature, "he said you said that you wanted to join me in the… the Shrieking Shack in your cat form?"

"After the Easter holidays, yes," she said. "I still have some research to do."

"Right," I said, "well, I — I just wanted to say that you shouldn't feel the need to do that… I'm really doing quite fine on my own."

She closed her eyes for a second, then opened them again. "Mr. Lupin, in the past few months I've been thoroughly researching werewolves." She didn't flinch when she said the word, like so many others did. "You're coming to an age where you may start to notice your transformations getting stronger, or you may want to hurt others."

"Professor, I —"

"Your harming of yourself will only get worse," she said. "Unless you get someone in there with you… you could… you could end up killing yourself."

I let this sit for a bit. Professor McGonagall's eyes pierced me, and I had the itching feeling that she could read my mind and could also see all my scars under my clothes. We stood in silence for too long before she finally spoke.

"You cannot change my mind, Mr. Lupin. You should head to lunch now."

And I did, not being able to get her words out of my head. I felt like I should have said more, I didn't want her there… I didn't want her to see. It was a part of me I felt shouldn't be shared with anyone. I thought back to that time in my second year when Sirius had seen me transform, and I'd almost killed him. He'd seen me transform. Monifa had seen me transform. My parents too.

And of course, the other werewolves.

I tried to shake my worries away. Maybe she'd change her mind. I could only hope.

"What's the date?"

"Eleventh of February," I replied, finally taking my eyes off Sirius, who was sitting across from me, to speak to James, beside me. It was mid-afternoon in the Gryffindor common room, we were all doing homework, and I'd caught myself staring at Sirius more than once.

"What day do the Easter holidays start?" James said, fiddling with his glasses.

"The seventh of April," I told him. James threw his wand across the room in frustration. It landed near Mary Macdonald, who picked the wand up and threw it back to James.

"You alright there James?" she asked.

"He's just being impatient," Sirius responded.

I was feeling impatient as well, and so were a few others. We didn't want to wait two months to find out what had happened with our families. Why were the adults being so secretive? Did they not trust us?

February slowly flowed into March, and soon it was the week leading to my birthday.

"Fourteen's not that special!" I said to Sirius, who wanted to do something big for my birthday. "It's not like… tenth, where you're double digits, or thirteen, where you're a teenager, or seventeen, when you're of age, or twenty-one where… where… where… what's even special about the twenty-first birthday?"

"I dunno," Sirius said. "But on my fourteenth we exposed Snivellus, why don't we do something like that for yours, then?"

I sighed. "Look, how about a cake in the dormitory? Is that good enough for you? Do something big for James, his birthday's only a few weeks after mine."

"Oh, alright, Remus!" he said, then skipped ahead of me.

It turned out my cake wasn't in the dormitory. It was in the Great Hall. My fourteenth birthday was just two days after a full moon, so I still felt like crap, but that was replaced by pure embarrassment when my three best friends came marching into the Great Hall during dinner with a massive, tiered cake and began singing happy birthday. And they said my name. My full name.

Soon the entire school except the Slytherins were singing happy birthday, and I just put my reddening face in my hands, hating the attention.

Sirius put the cake in front of me, grinning, before shouting, "Who wants some cake!?"

"You arsehole, Sirius!" I cried, lying on my bed in the dormitory later that night, my stomach filled to the brim with cake. "I said cake in the dormitory! Just us four!"

"Oops, must have been a miscommunication, sorry about that," Sirius shrugged. He and James were wheezing. Peter was sitting in his bed, curtains drawn. He was still making the howler.

"Oh, Remus, it wasn't that bad," James said, choking on his own spit. "There are a lot worse things, like… like… missing a Quidditch game, or being called a little boy by a bunch of fourth-year girls!"

I burst into laughter from that one, then James threw a pillow at me, beginning a huge pillow fight.