A/N: Essentially, what you recognize belongs to the goddess that is J.K. Rowling, and what you don't belongs to lil' ol' me.

~0~

Genevieve usually enjoyed all of her classes, even Potions, as she had a natural talent even Snape couldn't deny. But Defense Against the Dark Arts was becoming a fast favorite (Care of Magical Creatures had become incredibly dull since the incident, as Hagrid had been having them care for flobberworms ever since. With this content, the only chance Genevieve had of passing that O.W.L. was based on her own studying and Kettleburn's fast method of teaching. They'd been well ahead of the curriculum when he retired.).

Professor Lupin, despite his shabby appearance, was easily the best Defense teacher Geneveive'd ever had. She often talked to him after school about the more fascinating lessons. Because of this, she couldn't help but notice he became increasingly sickly once a month, and resolved to investigate further into this.

She was rereading through her Defense Against the Dark Arts book for extra studying, near the end, when she found it. Page 394. Werewolves.

She checked her calendar. Professor Lupin tended to get shabbier every month at the full moon. Of course. Why hadn't she realized this sooner?

Of course, this left Genevieve with something to think about: What was she to do with this information? Surely she wouldn't tell on him; he was, after all, a highly effective teacher. But werewolves were classified as dangerous creatures, so why was he teaching children at all? Did Dumbledore know? Did the teachers? Was this why Snape seemed to hate Professor Lupin so much? Should she confront him? Or stay silent?

Finally, Genevieve decided to talk to him about it rationally. If Dumbledore and the staff knew, then there was no reason to worry, and Professor Lupin would know that she would stand by his side anyway. Werewolves didn't get that kind of support often, she knew. And who's to say he was nothing but a vicious animal? Genevieve was friends with a half-giant and a ghost, after all.

•~0~•

After class one day, Genevieve stayed in her seat as she so often did, and Lupin smiled.

"Ah. One of my more ambitious students. Here to ask me more questions, I suppose?"

"Yes," she replied. "You know I enjoy reading ahead of the class."

He nodded.

"Well, I got to this one page, and I had a question about it. I was wondering if you could answer it?"

"I suppose I can."

"Good. It's page three hundred and ninety-four."

She watched with bated breath as Lupin flipped through his own copy of the book, arrived at the page, and froze. This confirmed it. He was a werewolf.

"Do Dumbledore and the staff know?"

Lupin gulped. "I'm sorry, Genevieve, I'm going to have to ask you to elaborate."

"Look, I'm not here to threaten you. I've noticed you get sick once a month, at the full moon, and I overheard some third years talking about how your boggart turned into a silvery orb. So, I just wanted to ask, do the professors know?"

"Yes." He still stood rigid.

"Fine, then you shall know that I will still support you. I won't tell any of the students; I'll keep your secret."

This surprised Lupin.

"Really? Why?"

Genevieve shrugged, unalarmed. "If Dumbledore knows and he trusts you, why shouldn't I?"

The professor visibly relaxed.

"Thank you, Genevieve."

"It is a bit ironic, though," she commented, smirking. "The Defense Against the Dark Arts professor being one of the so called 'Dark Arts' himself."

Lupin grinned. "Yes, I suppose it is."

Then something occurred to her. "Moony," she whispered. Once again, the teacher stiffened.

"What did you say?" He tried to ask conversationally.

"Er, I - just, when did you go to Hogwarts?"

"I started in . . . 1971. The Whomping Willow was planted the same year, to keep students away from me when Madame Pomfrey smuggled me out of the school to transform. Why?"

This fit with the timeline. Genevieve couldn't stop herself; she had to ask. "Nothing. Just, er, did you make any friends? It couldn't have been easy, keeping it a secret from them."

"Well, no, it wasn't. But like you, they figured it out. They knew, and they were my friends anyway."

"They seem like amazing people. Who were they?"

"Er - all right. You've promised to keep my secret, so I shall entrust you with another one. They were James Potter, Peter Pettigrew, and - and - "

"And Sirius Black," Genevieve finished for him. She marveled at this news. The Marauders were none other than Harry's father and his friends?

"Please do not think less of me, I had no idea one would lead to the death of two others. Though I don't know how you could still think highly of me anyway, being what I am."

"I don't blame you," she reassured him. "And having an illness doesn't make you a horrible person - you're a good person because you have a sickness and you don't let it consume who you are."

Lupin smiled weakly. "Thank you, Genevieve."