Remus was a nervous, if slightly less fully-blown panicked, mess by the time dinner came around. He was the first professor into the Great Hall, practically fleeing his last afternoon class to make sure he could keep an eye on Ron and Hermione. Minerva caught his eye as she entered around half six, giving him a loaded nod before taking her seat on the far side of the Headmaster.

Harry, Ron, and Hermione had all sat down for dinner around six, presumably to give Harry time to eat before quidditch practice (Oliver Wood, Remus noted, had not shown up yet; Remus worried for the boy's health). Finally, minutes before seven, Fred and George entered the Great Hall with a bang- quite literally, as Fred pushed the doors open with a flourish that sent the heavy wood reverberating against stone walls.

All eyes, not just Remus', followed the twins' ebullient strut to Gryffindor table. They openly flaunted their belligerence to play off the effort it took to wedge themselves onto the bench on either side of Ron, isolating him from Seamus on one side and Harry on the other. Remus was by no means seriously considering a prankster apprenticeship, but he did have to admit, Fred and George had both natural talent and style.

They served themselves carrots and peas, roasted chicken, and several more bread rolls than even their mother would have served them, with exaggerated nonchalance. Finally, Fred looked up to the staff table, caught Remus watching, and winked. Somehow, George, who had not looked at Fred nor Remus since the first piece of food touched his plate, knew instantly that the time for mischief was upon them. He turned to Harry and said something- Remus strained his slowly strengthening werewolf hearing but only caught "Firebolt"- and just like that, Harry was distracted.

Remus watched Fred nudge Ron, whisper something, and slip the note into Ron's lap. Ron made a face that clearly said he wasn't in the mood to be tricked into another one of his brothers' pranks, even though Remus couldn't hear the actual words he uttered. Hermione must have, though, because she looked up and her eyes darted accusingly between Fred, Ron, and George. Fred leaned in closer to his little brother and Remus saw his lips clearly form the word "Moony." Just as Remus started to worry that Harry would hear, he saw George lean even closer to Harry with his most conspiratorial expression; he swore he saw George's lips form the word "Slytherins."

His attention flicked back to Ron, who had looked up at the staff table. Remus caught his eye and nodded. Ron cast one more suspicious glare at Fred before he turned to the note in his lap and unfolded it. His eyes shot up in surprise; he looked back at Remus, then at the note, then Hermione.

Remus watched Hermione watching Ron and opening her mouth to say something. Before she could, Fred whispered something to her and she closed her mouth. After another strange look at Remus, Ron leaned his chest over the table. Hermione, too, leaned towards him, snaking a hand below the tabletop; when they sat back up, she glanced down at her lap. Remus watched her eyes flick back and forth so much that she probably read the note several times over, her frown deepening with each repetition. At least she had the good sense not to look at Remus again; instead, she shot a worried look at Ron, then Harry, but said nothing.

Inevitably, Fred started to poke and prod Ron; Remus saw "Moony" leave his lips several times, until finally, Ron's heated, "not now!" was loud enough for Remus to hear clearly.

Remus sighed to himself. He knew from experience that Fred and George would have pestered the information they wanted out of Ron by the end of the week. Well, he had a good run while it lasted.

Soon enough, Harry bid goodbye to his friends and joined the rest of the quidditch team, sans Oliver Wood, in trekking out of the Great Hall. Not long after, Ron and Hermione grabbed their bags and stood up, followed immediately by Minerva taking her leave from the staff table. Remus gave her a five minute head start, mindful that Dumbledore was still overseeing the goings-on in the Hall, then left his mostly-untouched dinner to slip away into a side corridor.

Remus found Ron and Hermione sitting nervously but quietly in Minerva's office and the deputy headmistress herself in the act of stowing away her tin of ginger newts. On her desk was a clean page of parchment, dated and titled Team Potter: Interview with Granger and Weasley. Remus allowed himself a triumphant grin at the heading, which he passed off as a greeting when Minerva looked up at him.

"Ah, Remus," she said, holding the tin out to him. "Biscuit?"

Remus smiled gratefully and accepted one. He conjured himself a chair slightly behind Minerva's and felt the children's eyes upon his as he sat down. He smiled and subtly scratched his nose. Ron flushed; Hermione, bless her, kept her cool.

Minerva folded her hands across her desk. "Mr. Weasley, Miss Granger, I'll cut to it. We want to ask you what you know about Mr. Potter's aunt and uncle."

Ron made a small choking noise. "Is this because of his accidental magic? Because Minister Fudge himself told Harry he wasn't in trouble! He said the Ministry deflated her no problem and-"

"Harry's not in trouble," Remus said kindly. "We actually want to help him. We're, well, we're working to report his aunt and uncle to the Ministry for child abuse and neglect."

Hermione's eyes widened; Ron's face paled considerably.

"Why aren't you talking to Harry?" asked Ron, confused. "Unless-" he whipped his head around to look at Hermione, "He would've told us, right?" He muttered. "I mean, we're his best friends…"

Hermione only shrugged helplessly in response.

"Harry, er, doesn't like to talk about it," said Remus. "I was hoping to spare him the trouble if he had already spoken to you two about it?" They both shook their heads. "Or if there's anything… out of the ordinary that you've noticed about his home life?"

Neither of them spoke but Hermione seemed to be staring into the distance with ever-increasing horror.

"I just… had a feeling," Remus raised his eyebrows meaningfully, "that at least one of you might know something useful."

Ron's face screwed up, then cleared. "Oh. Oh!" he muttered, eyes widening at Remus.

Minerva craned her neck to look at Remus, then Ron, then Remus again, trying to decipher Ron's reaction. Remus felt his chest tighten.

"Harry asked me about spells to preserve food!" Hermione blurted out, drawing Minerva's attention onto her. "In first year, about a month before we left for summer holidays. I think he was planning to smuggle food home in his trunk."

Minerva hurried to jot down this information, and Remus let himself breathe again.

"He's always so hungry at the start of term," Ron continued. "And skinny! When we rescued him before second year my mum went on about it forever but I thought she was just being… mum."

"And all of his muggle clothes are atrocious!" added Hermione. "For a while I thought it was just a dumb boy thing but now I'm not so sure."

"I thought it was a weird muggle fashion," Ron commented, looking bemusedly at Hermione.

"Honestly, Ron-"

"Hold on," Remus interjected. "What do you mean, you rescued Harry before second year?"

"Oh. Er," Ron's face turned beet red; Hermione rolled her eyes at him. "Me and Fred and George, sort of, stole dad's car and flew it to Harry's," he mumbled. "And we got to his house and the muggles had put bars on his window! We had to pull them off with a rope attached to the car. And then Fred and George went in to help Harry with his trunk and they had to pick a bunch of locks through the cat flap in the door just to get out of his bedroom!"

"The cat flap?" Hermione scoffed. "Those are only on outside doors; there wouldn't be one on the door to his bedroom."

"I dunno, that's what George told me. He also said Harry's trunk was locked up in some cupboard downstairs and they had to pick four more locks to get it out."

Remus, whose pulse had spiked spectacularly at 'bars on his window,' and even more painfully at the mention of a cupboard, leaned forward in his seat. "Did they say anything else about this cupboard?"

Ron shrugged. "I dunno, I don't remember. You can ask them, though." He sat back and smiled for the first time that night. "I reckon they'd love to tell you all about that night."

Minerva once again whipped around to glare at Remus. He shrugged apologetically at her.

"Fred and George have uncovered a few of my… schoolboy exploits," Remus muttered, doing his best to look down and frown convincingly.

Minerva sniffed at him. "You're no better at feigning contrition now than you were at fifteen."

Remus shot her a wry smile; Hermione stared at them both in shock.

Minerva turned back to Ron and Hermione. "Is there anything else you can tell us?"

"When he was telling us about blowing up his aunt he kept saying he should have run away ages ago," Ron offered.

Hermione frowned. "He was rather cavalier about not being allowed back into their home," she agreed. "And then there are all those comments he makes about how his aunt and uncle wouldn't care if he lives or dies."

"He said that?" Ron yelped. Remus barely heard him over the sudden ringing in his ears.

"Oh, you know; he's done it several times now. Every time he wakes up in the hospital wing and Madam Pomfrey asks if he wants her to write to his family, for starters."

"I don't- oh." Ron's eyes widened. "Oh, yeah. I always thought he was joking, though?"

"Well, it's a rather odd joke to make, don't you think? Especially repeatedly," Hermione responded primly.

"Can you give us an example?" asked Remus.

"First year, after we fought that troll, I was-"

"What do you mean you fought a troll?" Remus almost yelled. Ron flinched and Remus did his best to fight down the anger boiling in his chest. It was no good taking his frustration out on these children.

"Not now, Remus," Minerva chided. "Please continue, Mr. Weasley."

Ron gulped. "Right. Er, so, after we fought the troll, I was worried that," he scratched nervously at his left ear, "that you were going to write home to our parents and tell them what happened. So I was, er, hypothesizing about my mum's reaction, and Harry said his aunt and uncle would be more upset the troll didn't finish him off." Ron glanced at Hermione for confirmation; she nodded.

Remus was going to kill Petunia and Vernon Dursley. He was going to catch Peter, free Sirius, and then go on his own murder spree and then unlike Padfoot, he would never escape from Azkaban and he would die there, and in the meantime he would probably set werewolf rights back several decades but it was just something he had to do. He was going to kill them.

The ringing in his ears had increased to a strange rushing sound, and a stinging sensation in his palms told him his fingernails were breaking skin. He needed a distraction. "The three of you fought a troll in your first year?!" He blurted. "How? When?!"

Ron blushed and, strangely, looked to Hermione to proceed. Hermione's brows furrowed pensively. "Halloween," she whispered. Everyone, even Remus, watched her patiently as she sorted through whatever idea was occurring to her. "You know," she finally added, "I don't think Harry knows that's when his parents died."

Minerva stared at her in shock; Ron tilted his head thoughtfully. Remus' head started to swim with some unidentifiable emotion.

"You know, I think you're right," added Ron. "He is always weirdly cheerful on Halloween, given the occasion. You weren't friends with us yet, but that first Halloween he was actually really excited about finally being able to celebrate it."

"And do you remember last year, he was invited to Nearly Headless Nick's Deathday Party?"

"And both of us were waiting for Harry to say something about his own parents' deathday? Yeah.

Hermione nodded. "It's not just that, either. I sometimes feel like I know more about Harry's parents than he does."

Remus realized that the strange sensation blurring his vision and sinking down to drown his lungs was a grief so strong he hadn't felt the likes of it for twelve years.

He couldn't make out the features of anyone else in the room, but Ron was talking now, his voice muffled oddly, as if he were calling through a thick fog.

"Remember when he made the quidditch team and you had to tell him his own dad was team captain?"

Hermione hummed sadly. "And then he asked if there was anything in the trophy room about his mum."

There were more muffled voices after that but Remus couldn't make out words. Minerva must have eventually noticed something was wrong because he felt a warm, slightly wrinkled hand on his arm.

"Remus?" she was saying. "Remus, are you alright?" The tone of her voice sounded deeper, as if it should be louder, but it met his ears faintly, as if from very far away.

Remus opened his mouth to speak but no sound came out. An indefinable amount of time later, the lip of a small vial was pushed between his teeth. Remus swallowed automatically and felt the fog start to lift. It suddenly felt much easier to breathe.

Minerva was crouched in front of him, one hand still on his arm and the other hand grasping an empty vial.

"Remus?" she said again.

"Yes," he rasped out. His vision was clearing up and he saw Ron and Hermione, just visible behind Minerva, peering at him anxiously. "Oh. I'm sorry." Remus suddenly noticed that his face felt strange; he lifted a hand to one cheek and his fingers came away wet. "Oh, dear," he murmured.

"Remus, do you need to leave?" Minerva asked. "I can call for Poppy to escort you-"

"No!" Remus's voice came out somewhat stronger than he intended. "No, I-" Wait, why did he need to be here? "Harry. I'm here for Harry."

"If you're upset, Remus, you should leave," Minerva repeated in her most soothing voice, which was, unfortunately, not terribly soothing.

"No, no, I'm starting to feel better now." He licked his lips and caught the lingering taste of potion. "Calming Draught, yes?" Minerva nodded. "It's working. Thank you."

Minerva still looked unsure, so Remus ignored her concern and did his best to project confidence and maturity. "Ron, Hermione, do forgive me for that. I knew Harry's parents quite well." If neither of them reacted to that explanation with the appropriate amount of surprise, fortunately, Minerva seemed too worried about Remus to notice. "They were- I've never met- they were-" he could find no words, suddenly, that were good enough to describe James and Lily. "It's a shame that Harry never got to know them."

"Well, at least now he's got- Argh!" Ron shot a wounded glare at Hermione, who glared back at him. Ron blanched. "At least now he's got you, Professor Lupin," he amended. "You can tell him about his parents then, right? If you knew them?"

Remus couldn't tell whether Minerva was now looking suspicious again because of Ron's obvious cover-up or because she feared Remus would corrupt Harry by telling him about the Marauders' exploits. Although, Remus strongly suspected that if he ever got someone to explain this troll situation to him, he could probably argue that Harry has been getting himself into trouble just fine without Moony's influence, thank you very much.

"I'll tell him all about his parents when I'm no longer his professor," said Remus, but he smiled at Ron encouragingly. "I… It sounds like I have a lot of catching up to do." He ushered Minerva back into her own chair before he continued.

"I really am sorry for my reaction just now. Please don't let that discourage you. If there's anything else you noticed about Harry's home life, please, do go on."

Ron and Hermione glanced dubiously at each other, then turned back to their professors. They were silent for a minute, thinking, before Ron spoke up.

"He was honestly shocked to receive Christmas presents first year," he said.

"He didn't expect his aunt and uncle to send him anything?" Minerva clarified.

"I mean, yeah, but he was really surprised he got anything at all- my mum sent him a present, obviously, and then Hagrid, and I think Dumbledore too."

Minerva's eyebrows strained to join her hairline. "The headmaster sent him a Christmas present?"

Hermione quite openly elbowed Ron in the side. "He just passed along something that Harry's dad had lent him before he died."

Ron nodded quickly. "Family heirloom. Pretty boring, really."

"But of course Harry was really excited about it," added Hermione.

Ron gave himself away by glancing curiously and somewhat guiltily at Remus. Suddenly the nature of the "family heirloom" made a lot more sense. Remus groaned to himself; if Harry had James' invisibility cloak, there was no doubt he was up to more mischief than even Minerva knew about.

"But his aunt and uncle sent him a present, too?" Remus hurried to ask before Minerva followed up on the heirloom.

"Yeah, some muggle money," Ron replied. "Fifty pince. He let me keep it and everything; dad loved it."

"Fifty pence?" Remus clarified. "That's- that's barely a fraction of a knut."

Hermione scoffed and crossed her arms, then immediately uncrossed them to throw them up in anger. "Last Christmas they gave him a toothpick!"

Remus' jaw dropped. "A toothpick?"

Hermione pursed her lips and nodded. Ron and Minerva looked between them in confusion.

"What's-?" Ron began.

Hermione rolled her eyes even as she began talking. "It's a little wooden stick muggles use to clean bits of food out of their teeth after meals."

"Oh, that's what that little mini wand thingy was for?"

"It was definitely not a wand, Ronald."

"Well it could still be useful, though! Don't your parents make a whole living cleaning teeth?"

"Ugh, now is not the time to try to explain muggle dentistry to you!"

"Miss Granger, Mr. Weasley." That was all Minerva needed to say to have both children silent and abashed. "Is there anything else you would like to add, aside from… questionable Christmas presents?"

Remus promised himself that he would find time later to impress upon Minerva the utter disdain required to gift anyone at all a single toothpick.

There was another thoughtful pause from the children, and then Ron said, "He had to ask my mum for help getting onto Platform 9¾; he was all alone, even as a first year. No aunt and uncle in sight. I didn't think that was weird, for muggles, until I saw Dean on the platform with his parents this year."

Minerva finished noting that and back at the children. Ron's face was scrunched up in concentration, as if he was trying very hard to remember anything else. Hermione, too, looked pensive, but also extremely sad. She finally looked up to see Remus and Minerva watching her expectantly.

Hermione sighed, looked back down at her hands, and whispered, "I don't think they ever hugged him."

After a beat, during which Remus deliberated between a dozen different methods of homicide, Minerva asked, "Did he tell you that?"

Hermione looked back up. "No, and I don't think I can prove it; it's just a feeling I have. I hugged him for the first time towards the end of first year," Remus graciously ignored the blush staining Hermione's cheeks, "And he flinched a little at first, then kind of- kind of froze up, and just stood there and didn't hug me back. So I pulled away and he sort of stared at me, then he just said, 'oh,' and then 'thanks,' and then he walked away."

In the silence that followed, Remus tried to imagine Harry locked in a cupboard for ten years and receiving the first hug he could remember at almost twelve years old. He imagined Lily and James, watching their child be locked in a cupboard for a decade, denied food and physical affection. Remus' eyes began to prickle and his vision began to blur. He hid his face in his hands. The silence continued and Remus hoped desperately that the others weren't staring at him again.

"Well, thank you for sharing this information with us," came Minerva's voice. "If anything else occurs to you later, please come share it with me or Professor Lupin."

"Professor?" asked Hermione. "Can we tell Harry about this?"

Remus raised his head from his palms to meet Minerva's questioning glance.

"Harry knows this is something I'm working on," he said, "and I don't think he will be surprised that I spoke with you. I have noticed this is something he doesn't like to talk to me about, but it might be different with his friends. Whatever you two think is best, I trust your judgement."

Hermione nodded and rose from her seat; Ron hurried to follow her lead, but she made no further move to leave. "Thank you for doing this," she said, looking meaningfully at both Minerva and Remus. "Thank you for looking out for Harry."

Her words lit a blaze of guilt inside Remus, which Hermione, too wise for her own good, must have seen. "Nobody would have given you custody, Professor," she said. "It's not your fault."

Every muscle in Remus' body tensed. Sure, Harry must have told her about the origins of Moony, but since when were the custody rights of werewolves anywhere in the Hogwarts third-year curriculum? "How…?"

"Brightest witch of her age, Remus," Minerva murmured to him.

Hermione smiled. "I hope you can be a part of his life after this year. God knows he could use some decent family." And just like that, she grabbed Ron's arm and pulled him out of the office.

Unaffected by the stunned silence Remus was left in, Minerva set to making tea. She shot Remus a bemused look as the water boiled. "Well, if you are hoping to stay in touch with Mr. Potter, I daresay Miss Granger's blessing is as good a place as any to start."

Remus stared at his hands until she pushed a gently steaming mug between them. Remus took a sip and- was that a hint of firewhisky?

"How are you feeling?" Minerva asked him. Remus looked up and met concerned eyes.

"I…" his throat closed up around the rest of his words.

"Mmhmm."

"I should have- I can't believe- How could-" He took a deep breath and blew it out slowly. "If Lily-" His voice cracked horribly. Damn.

"Have a biscuit, Remus." Minerva held the tin of ginger newts back out to him.

"I already had one."

"Have another."

Remus took a biscuit. He didn't eat it.

"We're going to have to talk to Fred and George, too, aren't we?"

"Oh, let me do that," Minerva said. "I've come up with no better ideas for their detention tomorrow anyway."

Remus shifted nervously in his seat. He wanted to bear witness to these stories, for Lily and James' sake, but-

"You'll do no good to anyone if you can't handle what they tell us," Minerva insisted, not unkindly. "And frankly, I'd prefer you not be there to egg on their storytelling about car theft and lockpicking."

Remus felt a tentative smile tug at his lips. "Yes, alright. Wait, speaking of troublemakers-" he took another deep breath, "They fought a troll during their first term?"

"Oh, Remus," said Minerva. "That boy couldn't stay out of trouble if his life depended on it- and that is by no means just a figure of speech."

"How did a troll even get into the castle?!"

Minerva's eyes darkened and she brooded in the direction of her tea for a moment. "Maybe we shouldn't do this now," she said, too lightly. "You've had a rough night. Poppy would kill me for upsetting you further when you clearly need rest."

"Minerva," Remus warned.

She sighed. "Not tonight, alright? Come see me again tomorrow and I'll fill you in."

Remus nodded, then remembered the deal he cut with Fred and George. "I can't tomorrow night; I've... also given the twins detention. Wednesday?"

"Yes, alright. I was planning to call another meeting Wednesday evening; I'll tell you about the troll after."

"He also mentioned several quidditch injuries that, er-"

"Ah, the rogue bludger?"

"And somebody jinxed his broom?"

Minerva glowered at her again. "The same person who let in the troll."

"WHO-?"

"Later, Remus." Minerva's tone was final. Remus let out a defeated sigh and threw back the last of his tea.

"Thank you."

"Take care of yourself," Minerva said in farewell.

Remus nodded. "Have a good night."

He left Minerva's office and his feet carried him almost without thinking to the kitchens. Tippy must have seen something in his face because she presented him with a basket blessedly devoid of candles and a bar of chocolate pressed directly into his palm. Remus smiled at her and headed straight for the Willow.

It was refreshing to walk outside in the February chill, especially as his body temperature rose the closer he got to the Full. But his thoughts were still a sad, jumbled mess. Remus hadn't said a word to Sirius since his accidental encounter with Padfoot, but suddenly, he was the only person Remus wanted to talk to. He walked through the passage hoping desperately to find Padfoot there. He didn't care how long it would take to coax him out; he would do whatever it took to talk to his best friend again.

The shack was empty when he arrived. Remus set down the basket of food and sniffed his way through all of the rooms, but Padfoot was nowhere to be found. He shoved Tippy's chocolate into his mouth and sulked the entire way back to his rooms.