The weekend felt very long to Remus. Even on Saturday he was really tired, and on Sunday it was even worse. He slept in very late, waking up only when his friends shook him awake for lunch. As soon as he slithered out of bed he saw the concern on their faces. He dreaded what the mirror would show. Ugh, he thought, seeing how awful he looked. He doubted he'd be able to get away with the sick mum story this time around. He looked on the verge of death.

"We can bring you lunch," Peter said, practically hopping from foot to foot as he glanced between Remus and the other two.

Sirius stepped forward. "Yeah, mate, you stay in bed, we'll bring you something to eat."

"I'm f-fine," he mumbled. He opened up his dresser and just stared down at the clothes, feeling confused. Like he couldn't even remember what clothes were for. He hated four moon nights, and the pre-exhaustion just tore at his body. Then James was shutting the dresser drawer while Sirius guided Remus back to his bed. "No, I'm fine!" But he fell back into his covers without much other protest.

The three boys had a whispered discussion which Remus heard every word of, involving who would fetch the food, who would stay, and whether they should take Remus to Pomfrey. Then their voices faded into nothingness as Remus fell back into a fitful sleep. He managed to wake up enough to eat the food his friends brought him then agreed to be taken to the hospital wing. They left him alone to get dressed (as well as pack a bag) then led him through the school. Once in a hospital bed, he asked them to please let Lily know. Then Pomfrey kicked them all out.

"M-might as well just go," he said once they were alone, so she helped him bundle up and took him out to the Whomping Willow. Once in the house he just went right back to sleep, and slept until the moon pulled him out of his dreams, on the verge of rising. He fell off the couch and desperately began trying to get undressed. He should have brought something to set an alarm, to wake him up. He hadn't thought of this happening...

He let out a cry as the moon rose and his curse took over. He had managed to get his shirt off but his jeans were going to be ruined. He scrabbled with the top of his pants, trying to push them down through the pain, then his nails lengthened into claws, ripping through the denim, into his flesh. His body morphed and twisted, and he had one small thought of, At least they're old, crappy jeans, before the wolf took over.

()

In the morning Remus only had a few small injuries though his clothes had been ruined, and his bag which he had left out. He stared in dismay at the tattered fabric. At the shreds of paper from the books inside. He picked up a scrap of paper then dropped it, watching it fluttering to the floor, landing in a small puddle of blood. He had brought old paperbacks he had gotten from a used bookstore but still...

He got to his feet as he heard Pomfrey down the tunnel, and limped to the bathroom to clean himself off, glad he was able to. He wasn't sure what he'd do about lack of clothes, though; hopefully she'd be able to conjure up some hospital pajamas or something. When he left the bathroom he had a large towel wrapped around his body. Pomfrey had his ruined bag in her hand, trying her best to repair it. It mostly knitted itself back together however Pomfrey's ability definitely leaned more towards knitting flesh and bones back together, not fabric; you could still see claw marks. He'd have to write home and ask for a new bag...

"It doesn't seem to be so bad this time," she said as she put bandages on his wounds. They'd probably all be healed up before lunch.

I wonder why, he thought as she did indeed conjure up some pajamas. Because I slept so much? The last time it had been a four nights had been in June. It had been as violent as any other time. Had he slept a lot that day? He couldn't really remember. He did remember his mother fixing a nice steak dinner before, walking with him down to the cellar, sitting with him, stroking his hair, singing to him. She hated four nights, too. Her last letter to him had been bemoaning the fact he had to go through the ordeal two months in a row 'but at least the second one will be at home' which-well, he... needed to write to them...

They're gonna be mad. He went to the bathroom to put the pajamas on, sleepily staring at his pale, wane reflection. I want to stay here for the holidays. It'd be easier to go back. He knew this. Then he could pretend he and his mother were both healthy during the time away. However, he had heard older students saying the teachers usually gave a lot of homework assignments before the Easter holidays. He kinda wanted to stay near the Hogwarts library if he had a lot of homework to do. I'll write to them. No harm in trying.

()

He slept most of Monday, struggling to fight off the exhaustion he felt to his very bones. At one point he woke up hearing Pomfrey arguing loudly with James, Sirius, and Peter. When she came bustling into his room he sat up, suggesting she let them visit him a little bit to prove he's there. She pursed her lips, looking like she'd rather set fire to the hospital wing. But she agreed to let them come in the next day providing his injuries weren't too bad and easily hidden.

He woke up again in the late afternoon when McGonagall came into his little room. "I didn't mean to wake you," she said. "Poppy told me your bag was ruined and I thought I'd see if I can fix it. I'm a bit better at tailoring spells than she is." Unfortunately his bag was too far gone. She managed to make it look better than Pomfrey did, but it still looked like it had gotten tangled in a fight. He didn't want anyone seeing the marks so he'd definitely have to get a new one. McGonagall agreed to take a letter to the owlery for him, so he quickly wrote out a note to his parents, his handwriting worse than usual. He apologized multiple times in the small note, feeling sick they'd have to spend more money on him.

Monday night was pretty cloudy so he didn't transform until around midnight and he came to around three in the morning. He had a pretty nasty gash down his side but otherwise was about the same as the night before. He took a shower, bandaged himself up, and fell into nightmarish sleep on the couch until Pomfrey came and got him.

()

"REMUS!"

He stirred and poked his head out from under the blanket, blinking sleepily at the three figures bounding into the small room. He had already forgotten what Pomfrey said the day before about letting them in.

"Hey," he mumbled, forcing himself into a sitting position carefully.

Sirius, James, and Peter crowded around the bed, staring wide-eyed at the very obviously deathly ill boy before them. Even at his worse before and after the moon he never looked this bad.

Finally Sirius broke the silence. "If it's too much to have company, we can go."

"S'fine," Remus said. "It's n-not as bad as usual." Those words caused all three of them to flinch. Peter gave a gulp, staring disbelieving at Remus as if he couldn't imagine it being worse. Whatever 'it' was. He wondered what was going through their heads, what they were thinking. Perhaps it had been a bad idea for them to see him?

"So you're stuck in here all the time?" James asked, tearing his gaze from Remus to look around the room. "We didn't even know this room existed."

"R-rest helps the most," Remus said. "Keeping me fr-from the rest of the wing is the best way for me to rest. No-no noise."

"We should go," Sirius said firmly.

"No, stay for-for a moment. Please?"

Peter pulled a bunch of candy out of his bag, dumping it unceremoniously onto Remus's lap. "Can you eat sweets?"

"Yes." He smiled and began unwrapping a small chocolate bar. "Thank you."

The bed was small but somehow all four of them balanced on it, crowded close as they shared Pete's candy. James told Remus what he had missed the past couple days while Sirius mostly watched Remus with a wrinkled brow. It wasn't long before Remus's eyes began drooping. Sirius quietly ushered the other two out the door, all of them whispering they'd see him later and hoped he felt better soon. Remus was asleep before the door even shut.

()

The third night went pretty bad but the fourth was the worst. It didn't surprise Remus at all to come back into his human mind surrounded by blood and torn flesh. He cried out when he moved his arm, tried to move his hand. There were deep teeth marks around his wrist from where it seemed the wolf had tried chewing its paw off. He couldn't move his hand at all, it just sort of wobbled uselessly. He had to use just one arm to get himself to shaky legs, limping to the bathroom.

Any hopes of going to Potions in the afternoon were dashed as Remus zonked completely out, sleeping through lunch, the afternoon, only waking up when Pomfrey brought him some food, then he fell back asleep until well after the sun set. His body protested getting out of bed and putting on the clothes Pomfrey had somehow gotten him from his dorm.

It's nearly curfew, he thought as he got dressed. I'll have to rush. He somehow managed to get to the tower just as seven hit though hurrying had really taken it out of him. He yawned loudly, saying the password, then his mouth snapped shut when the Fat Lady refused to open.

"It's not the password anymore," she said, staring down her nose at him.

"Oh. But-b-but I am a Gryffindor-"

"Then you should know the password."

Remus shifted his weight to his other foot, trying to remember if anyone had something about a password change, what it might be. "C-c-could you go get someone from inside?"

"I'm busy."

He sank down onto the floor to wait miserably for someone to come by. Slowly... slowly... he drifted back into sleep then jerked awake when loud voices approached him. A couple of sixth years. He scrambled to his feet, ignoring their amused looks at being caught outside the tower like this.

"I d-d-didn't know the password," he admitted to the prefect who was giving him a particularly curious gaze, hoping she wouldn't take points off.

"Wellllll all right," she said. "This time. You need to make sure you keep up with the password! It was changed yesterday. How'd you even get in last night?" He didn't say anything, just jammed his hands in his pockets and waited. "Spider Eyes."

He gratefully clamored in after the students, intending to head straight for his dorm for more sleep but he was interrupted by Lily rushing over to him. "Remus! You're back! The others said you were really sick?" She spoke rapidly as she pulled him into an alcove. "Are you okay?"

"Um, m-mostly, still-still tired," he said, rubbing his eyes. Her green eyes roved up and down, taking in his entire being in a way he didn't like. "Is s-something wrong?"

"Just worried about you," Lily said softly. "You do look worse than usual. Should you be back?"

"Pomfrey said the-the danger was over."

"Danger?"

"Er, you know, the worst of it was-is-is over," he said quickly. He was too tired to try and think of lies, to try to remember what he had said before. "I really want to get to bed, though, I'm sorry."

Her hand rested against his arm then suddenly she pulled him in for a hug. "Okay," she said in his ear. "I'm just glad you're better." She released him, stepping back, a big smile on her face.

Remus hesitated then nervously walked away from her, wondering what that had been all about. It seemed... unusual. Off. He stopped then turned, going back to her. "Are you okay?" he asked, thinking perhaps something had happened. Maybe with her sister?

"It's just been a weird week," she replied with a shrug. "I guess it just felt like you've been gone for longer than you have. Know what I mean?"

"Yeah. Th-thanks. I'll s-see you tomorrow." He went up to his dorm, figuring it was his tiredness that made him more confused than he probably should have been. He had to deal with his male friends greeting him then finally collapsed into bed, yanking the covers up, and going to sleep fully dressed.

()

He had had a couple nightmares since winter term started that woke him up with screams or cries, and every time Sirius would come over to check on him. Nobody else would wake up, thankfully, but Remus still felt guilty that Sirius was awakened, even if it was voluntarily. That night after the four moons Remus woke up screaming-a nightmare where the moon stayed full, wouldn't shrink, wouldn't diminish, and wouldn't set.

His curtains were pushed aside, revealing silvery grey eyes glinting in the darkness. "Fine," Remus mumbled, trying to get untangled from his sheets. "I'm fine."

"You were crying a lot."

Remus bit his tongue to stop from snapping. "I'm fine." He looked down at his clothes then slithered out of bed. "Thank you, though, for-for checking up on me. You d-don't need to."

"I know I don't," he replied as Remus got out a pair of pajamas. "Did you have nightmares at home, too?"

"Um. Y-yeah." He felt Sirius getting closer but he still jumped when he turned around and found the other boy only inches away. "You c-can go back to sleep, I'm okay now."

"Okay." Sirius stayed where he was. Remus didn't know what to say or even do. "What are your nightmares about?"

Why the questions?! Remus stepped back, knocking into the dresser. "D-doesn't matter. I don't really remem-member much about them anyway," he lied, "just how they make me feel."

"Yeah." Sirius finally moved aside so Remus could go. "I always-well, er, I mean, that is to say, it's probably good. That you don't remember them, if they're-affecting you that strongly." He sounded awkward now, like he confessed something he hadn't meant to. He nearly had.

Always what? Remus frowned, recalling Sirius telling McGonagall he used to have nightmares too. Were you going to say you always remember your nightmares? What are your nightmares about? He had an idea, knowing a little bit about the Black family. Fawley's sister's execution? Did you see that? Did you have nightmares? Or other things? How bad was the Black family? Suddenly Remus realized Sirius seemed a little paler than normal and there were dark smudges under puffy eyes, mirroring Remus (not as bad). His wolf senses kicked in: Sirius had been crying too, very recently. Within the past hour. He had already been awake, when Remus had his nightmare.

The silence stretched on then Sirius flashed a smile. "Well, goodnight then!" It was sort of strangled, and Remus realized how long he had spent just staring at Sirius with a frown, realizing how bloody strange it had probably been.

"Oh so-sorry, yeah, uh, g-goodnight, and uh, um, thanks again."

Remus left the dorm to change, and lingered outside the door, listening in. He heard Sirius swearing very softly then the sound of something soft being punched (probably his pillow?). What's wrong? Remus stared at the wooden door, wishing he could go back in to ask. Why were you crying?

He went into the bathroom then froze, smelling the lingering scent of smoke. What? He turned on the light, eyes scanning the room. He could smell the smoke but didn't see anything. The smoke was sort of faded, like something had been burnt not too long ago then was put out. He went in farther, looking for evidence of a potion being made except he'd have smelled the potion too. No, this was just like something was burnt.

He followed the scent to a sink. Most the evidence was gone but he saw some ashes clinging to the edges of the sink. Someone had burnt something in the sink then washed the ashes down. Recently, too. Within the past... hour? Like Sirius crying? Was it Sirius? All the other beds seemed undisturbed, the other boys sound asleep. Sirius? Remus reached down, wiping his finger along the sink, staring at the ashes. His head began hurting so he just turned the faucet on, rinsing the sink-and his finger-off.

He quickly changed into his pajamas then returned to the dorm. No sounds from Sirius's bed except for breathing but Remus could tell his friend was still awake. The breathing wasn't right for sleeping even if he was trying to make it sound right. It was far too deliberate, steady, a little too deep for how Sirius normally breathed while he slept (it felt odd to Remus that he knew exactly how the other boys sounded while asleep, a little too intimate).

Remus walked past Sirius's bed, resisting the urge to knock on the post, to see what was wrong, to try and help. Because he didn't know how to help. He was out of his depth with that even if he had somehow helped Lily a few times.

I'm sorry. Whatever is going on. I'm sorry... He tossed his clothes into the hamper then went back to an uneasy sleep.