"It's that one," said Remus, pointing to a knot at the base of the Willow's trunk. He and his roommates were hidden under James's Invisibility Cloak, but the long stick Sirius had picked up was not; Remus imagined it seemingly floating towards the Willow of its own accord. Oh, well; he'd seen plenty of weirder things at Hogwarts.

Sirius prodded the knot, and the angry branches of the Willow went suddenly still, frozen in place like a normal tree's. Peter let out a sigh of relief.

A hole opened up in the ground between a tangle of roots, and the four of them headed for it as quickly as they could, not wanting to be stuck beside the tree when it came back to life. They slid into the hole one at a time, finding themselves in the low, dark tunnel that led up to Remus's shack.

James put away his cloak as the hole closed up behind them, leaving them in total darkness. "Lumos," Remus murmured, lighting up his wand; the rest of them did the same.

"This is so cool, Re," Sirius breathed. "Your own secret passageway." Remus didn't think there was anything cool about the entire situation, but he nodded anyway.

"Come on." He led them down the tunnel, all of them but Peter having to hunch over so their heads didn't scrape the rock above them. The tunnel twisted and turned, going on and on and on, until finally Remus could make out a faint light the marked the end of it.

They climbed out and found themselves on the creaky floorboards of Remus's transformation shack. It was the first time Remus had been in the shack during the day; the small amount of sunlight that made it through the boarded-up windows highlighted the deep claw marks on the walls and the spots of blood on the floor and furniture.

Remus watched his friends uncertainly as they took it all in. It was only one day after they'd told him they had figured out his secret, and Remus was still half-waiting for the reality of his situation to hit them. But as they peered around at all the damage his wolfish self had caused, their expressions showed fascination, not fear. James picked up a chair leg the wolf had ripped clean off its frame and gaped at the toothmarks embedded in it.

"Merlin, you're strong, Re," he said.

"The wolf's very strong," Remus agreed. "Stronger than any normal wolf. Dumbledore had all sorts of enchantments put on this place so it can't tear through the walls."

Sirius was looking through the cracks in the windows, trying to discern their surroundings. "You said we're somewhere in Hogsmeade?" he asked Remus.

"That's what Madam Pomfrey said," Remus replied. "Right outside the village."

"I think this might be the Shrieking Shack," Peter murmured.

Remus turned to him. "The what?"

"I heard some of the older students talking about it in the common room once," Peter said. "A boarded-up shack in Hogsmeade that the villagers hear shrieks and howls coming from at night. They think it's haunted."

"Oh." Remus's cheeks went red. He'd never thought about that, the fact that there might be people hearing his howls and cries of pain on full moon nights. He'd definitely never thought about anyone giving his shack a name. "Yes, well, this is probably it, then."

"That's amazing," Sirius said. "The Shrieking Shack. You have your own secret passageway and haunted house, Re."

"Well, I am the one haunting it," Remus pointed out. "Do you want to see upstairs?"

He gave his roommates the same tour of the shack that Madam Pomfrey had given him when he'd first arrived at Hogwarts. It was in considerably worse shape now than it had been then—the paint had been ripped off of most of the walls, and the doors and furniture were covered in scars made by teeth and claws. The bed on the top floor had been completely torn up, with down feathers and bits of fabric scattered all around.

"Remus," James said, "that wolf has some serious anger issues."

Remus snorted. "Yes, well, that's what happens when you keep a werewolf from attacking anyone but himself."

"When were you attacked, Remus?" Peter asked abruptly. "And who did it?"

James shoved him. "Don't ask him that, Petey."

"It's all right," Remus said. "I was bitten when I was four years old. I don't know who did it; some random werewolf, I guess. He broke through my bedroom window and attacked me while I was asleep." Though Remus had been very young, he still remembered that night: waking up to unbearable pain, screaming and crying as his father drove out the wolf and his mother collapsed with horror. It was his earliest memory; he remembered nothing of what his life had been like before the bite.

Peter shivered. "That's horrible," he said quietly. James and Sirius, who were unfazed by pretty much everything, had both gone pale. They all looked a whole lot more serious than they had before.

"My dad got rid of him before he could do too much damage," said Remus; "but he managed to get a good bite in first." Remus rolled up his left robe sleeve to show them the bite that had changed his life, still etched deep into his skin—a full set of werewolf fangs wrapped around his biceps. His roommates gathered around to get a good look at it.

"Bloody hell, mate," said James. "Ouch."

"Ouch doesn't begin to cover it," Remus muttered, pulling his sleeve back down. He spread his arms, indicating the damage around the room. "That bite's what made all of this happen."

Sirius swallowed. "I'm sorry, Re. We had no idea." He put a hand to his forehead.

James nodded. "Is there anything we could do to help? Maybe cushion the walls in here or something?"

Remus shook his head. "The wolf needs the pain; it's the only thing that keeps him from biting and scratching himself. He does plenty of that too, of course, but he'd do more of it if he didn't have any other ways to hurt himself."

"Damn," Sirius murmured. "That sounds rough."

"Well, we'll figure something else out, then," James said determinedly. "The three of us aren't gonna let you keep tearing yourself up every month. We're smart; we'll think of something." Peter and Sirius nodded their agreement.

Remus nodded back at them, feeling tears pricking his eyes. He knew his friends wouldn't be able to do anything to help with his condition, but the fact that they were so willing to try meant more to him than he could say. He led them out of the shack and back down the tunnel, feeling less alone than he ever had before.