Chapter 9: We All Know What We Know

James Potter pulled back the sash hanging at the floor to ceiling window of the Gryffindor Common Room, the same window that gave an almost panoramic view of the grounds, from the Quidditch pitch all the way out towards the Black Lake. The moonlight from the partially obscured celestial body danced upon the dark waters. Sirius always liked to claim, for a lark, that the Lake itself had gotten its name from his family – specifically some ancestor whose first name changed every time Sirius retold the story. His friends indulged the bragging, even though they and pretty every other Hogwarts students knew why the lake was really referred to as 'Black': all of the dark creatures that resided beneath its wakes, the most feared of all of them being the Giant Squid.

James glanced back to the neatly empty Common Room on this late night, and winced. Speaking of dark creatures….

Peter was getting nearly swallowed up by the cushions in one of the large easy chairs, passing his wand aimlessly from hand to hand. Sirius was pacing, the firelight casting lengthy shadows across his mangy features in the same way the partial moon was casting shadows about the grounds. James noticed how his best mate's curls would tousle as he frequently stole glances at the clock. About-face, pace off down the length of the Common Room again….

"Maybe it won't be tonight…" James murmured to what he thought was just himself. "Maybe the Express will be late coming back…"

"The train's due," Sirius rumbled gravely, glancing back up to the clock hanging over the backside of the Fat Lady portrait. "It's how he's always returned to the castle… and always the first night of a partial moon."

James winced. "You noticed a pattern there, too?" For the longest time, the more and more the puzzle pieces added up into a pattern, the more and more he had tried to deny that there was any pattern there. Finally, he had needed to face the truth that they had all worked out.

It wasn't as though James had sought to go snooping into one of his best mate's private lives. He had been blessed (though lately, it was looking more like cursed) with a bright intellect, and insatiable curiosity. The inquisitiveness didn't always extend to schoolwork, mind: James much preferred to solve problems that came at him naturally. After all, the best learning was by doing and exploring. And the reasons for why his best mate Remus Lupin kept leaving at all times of the school term had itched at him for the better part of two years now.

He did have to at least give the chap points for plausibility: the official story had always been that his mother had taken ill, and been battling an aggressive form of cancer for several years. As Remus's father was an important Ministry official currently working to contain the Dark Magic insurgency currently threatening the country, much of his wife's medical care and its burdens had been offloaded onto their only son who was not yet old enough to shave.

James had accepted this answer, at first, even sympathized with it – it had to be hard to grow up so soon and be the man of the house. To need to care for a sick parent, even harder. Less analytical students would have continued to believe this story with nary a second thought.

Except for one thing, a thing that Remus had perhaps never thought to try and explain away: why his visits to care for his mother occurred every single month.

Why they always occurred at a very specific time during the month.

James by now almost regretted going to his other mates with these nagging thoughts of his. He may be naturally inquisitive, but Sirius was downright excavational: once a riddle was presented to him, he was like a dog with a bone. Peter had tried to cope with his own uneasiness about the situation by making bawdy cracks about how Remus was off the rag, or really fancied himself a dame and was trying to arrange a sex change. They all knew that theory was far-fetched hogwash; Remus had been the first in their year to experience his voice change, and once it had, it had plummeted down into a melodious bass that made him sound like a man in his thirties.

The three had watched and waited for the better part of this, their second year, just to be certain. Sure enough, like clockwork, the pattern had appeared: Remus always seemed to be off-grounds whenever the full moon was arisen. He consistently was called away to his mother's sickbed a day, sometimes two, before the full moon appeared, and a couple of nights later, he would be back. Remus always said these were monthly visits, to see that his mother was taking her medicine.

James folded his arms queasily about his chest, almost hugging himself, and silently shook his head. He'd never met Mrs. Hope Lupin – by all her son's accounts, a lovely woman – so maybe there was some slight truth to the claim that she was ill. But he doubted it. Everything about Remus missing up to a week of school every month just seemed a little too…. timely.

If they were right, Remus was due back from his most recent…. wherever-he-really-went to do whatever-he-really-did…. as early as tonight. Tomorrow eve, at the latest. James dearly hoped it was the latter, if only to stave off for a day this very unpleasant conversation – intervention was the word Sirius had used.

"Do we really want to confront him like this?" James fretted to Sirius, deliberately stepping into the path of the other boy's pacing.

"Jamey, Jamey, Jamey…" Sirius patted him on the shoulder. "Confront is such a strong and naughty word. We're presenting the old boy with our findings. That's all." He shrugged. "For all we know, we could be wrong, and this could just be where we take the mickey out on him and we all have a laugh."

James wanted to believe that, but feared he was far past the point. "But what if we're right? He could clam up, or worse still, lash out."

"If we are right, how could he lash out? He wouldn't be in his…." But Sirius's voice choked off with something that might have been emotion.

James grimly shook his head. "A Remus with a wand can be just as dangerous as a Remus turned into…. something else. Don't you remember how we all met? Our entire friendship started because of a fight. I don't want our friendship to possibly end in a fight!"

"Of course not," Sirius's dark eyes had grown huge at the very thought. "Which is why when we approach him, we have to do it carefully."

"I quite agree!" Peter piped up from his perch on the easy chair, his stubby little feet dangling. "We should beat around the bush and get him comfortable before we spring the trap!"

"Must you choose your words so carelessly, Pettigrew?" Sirius huffed. "'Spring the trap' implies we're going to hurt the poor fellow. We don't want to hurt him! We want to understand him. We present what we think is the truth and leave it to him to confirm it or not."

James went pale. "Maybe we should have rehearsed through what we're gonna say…" he mumbled. "Role-play or something…"

"… and what good would that do?" Sirius demanded. "You wanna tip off the whole bloody castle?"

"Well, the teachers can't know! And if they don't, what if they should?"

"What if they already do know, and it's just us students in the dark?" Sirius postulated. "The teachers could be hoping no one is mad enough to snoop about like us. They could be trying to protect us."

James's eyes nearly popped. "Protect us from who? From Remus? Poppycock! He's not dangerous! He's… he's…."

Sirius now laid and kept his hand on James's shoulder. "….. quite possibly in a lot of pain," he finished for him gently. "What we have to let Remus know is that he shouldn't have to feel he needs to protect us, or protect himself from us. We have to make it clear that we want to protect him from himself."

James nodded. "What if he runs? What if he hides, or…"

"What if? What if?" Peter hopped down from his easy chair perch. "What if he transforms even without the full moon and comes for us? The bloke could do any number of things, but regardless of what he does, we chase him back down and make it clear we're not going anywhere."

Suddenly, from the outside, they could hear the Fat Lady portrait speaking to someone in the moment before her canvas swung open.

"Ssssh! Here he comes!"

The Fat Lady portrait opened onto the seventh floor landing, heralding a weary but relieved Remus Lupin.

"Halloo, chaps!" he attempted to give his best smile. "You gents jolly didn't have to wait up for me…."

"And here's our boy-o!" Sirius called, a little too exuberantly and a little too loudly, even for him. "Give us a kiss, Remus, old lad!" He darted up to embrace Remus in a manly hug and even made a show of going for the bloke's lips, which Remus ducked before shoving him away.

"Sod off, you tosser!" Grin still tired, Remus patted Peter on the head when the other boy toddled up to him with a hug around the waist. He finally glanced up with his deep brown eyes to lock onto James, who still hadn't moved from where he was leaning against the window.

"What's with the face, mate? Did Evans rebuff you again?"

"Threatened to hex him if he ever whistled at her again, she did!" Sirius chortled, but the sound was too forced, his smile too strained.

As casually as he dared, James drew back the sash to let in a clear view of the night sky. "You picked a fine evening to waltz back in."

"I suppose," Remus shrugged, tossing off his scarf. "I do love this time of year: October's never too hot, and never too cold! Nice and crispy and just right…."

James's lips quirked a little. "Yeah. Funny thing it's happening at this time of year…."

"That what's happening?" Remus lifted his head from where he was setting his bags on the fireplace couch. "Halloween?"

"That's not till the end of the month!" James dismissed. "But I'm wondering, old friend: you say you enjoy this time of the year. Do you enjoy this time of the month?"

In his periphery, James sensed Sirius and Peter share a look. For his part, Remus appeared bemused. "I'm sorry? I'm afraid I don't follow, James…"

But James was already turning away, staring out the window. "Pretty sight, isn't it? The moon."

Remus craned his neck to follow James's gaze. "Divine," the just-returned boy quipped. He gave a kind of nervous twitter. "What's this all about, mate?"

Behind Remus, Sirius was surreptitiously shifting his weight closer to the portrait hole to block it. Peter circled back towards the fireplace while James strolled directly up to their friend. Slowly but surely, the fourth member of their friend group was being boxed in by the other three.

"It's just…. don't you think it's curious? How you always seem to get called home to your mother's side the same time every month?"

Remus's eyes were starting to shift; even in the light from the fireplace, his skin was starting to pale. "I, um…. her medicine has to be taken at very specific intervals…."

It was a nimble bit of improvisation, one that James was expecting. Even so, he pretended to take it in. "Ah. I see. So she always has to take her medicine…." He took a breath and went for it. "…. Near, at or during the full moon?"

The bespectacled boy watched closely for liar's signs, observing how Remus visibly gulped. For the first time, he seemed to become aware of his surroundings, and how his friends had encircled him.

James's heart broke at how Remus was now trembling, and from the way the man was pursing his lips, everyone present knew, and more importantly, he himself knew it: he was caught.

Remus started to hang his head, but then seemed to think better of it. Never had any of the boys heard someone sound so defeated as he asked: "Are you going to jump me?"

"No," Sirius called from his back. "We're trying to make sure you don't run."

"…. So you can hurt me," Remus finished in a guess.

"We don't want to hurt you, old boy!" Peter yipped from his position near the couch. "We want to help you!"

The firelight now accentuated how there were tears glistening in Remus's chocolate eyes. "How? Nothing any of you say or do can change who I…." he faltered, amended. "…. what I am."

"And what is it that you are, Remus?" James drifted closer, communicating as hard as he could with his eyes and making sure his best mate only saw kindness there. "Go on. Say it."

Remus whimpered before finally letting out in a whisper. "I'm a werewolf."

James breathed in and out deeply through his nose, nodding slowly. "We thought so."

Remus stared at each of the only friends he had ever had – friends he was still quite certain he was about to lose – in wonder. "How long have…?"

"A bit. Though it took us a while to work out the truth," James clipped across him. He lifted a hand, and his heart cried out at how Remus flinched. "Easy there, tiger…" And he carefully lay a friendly hand on Remus's shoulder. "We mean it, mate. We want to help you. Don't we, lads?" Sirius and Peter nodded vigorously.

"You can't help me in this," Remus shook his head sadly. "This is a problem you can't solve."

"If by solve, you really mean cure, then no: we can't," Sirius agreed. "Except we're not looking to solve the problem, are we? At least, not in the way you're thinking. But we do want to help you. And the first step to getting help, Remus, is admitting that you have a problem." He held up a hand at how Peter, James and Remus were all looking at him. "That's not to suggest that in having a problem, there is necessarily anything wrong with you. We happen to believe there isn't. If this was something that made us want to try and fix you, then you wouldn't be you. And whatever you damn well are, old chap, you, Remus John Lupin, are a pretty bloody interesting fellow."

James was smiling at Sirius with relief and pride. He couldn't have said it better himself. Remus appeared incredibly moved, wiping at his eyes. Peter patted him on the arm.

"You…. you really want to help me?"

"Of course we bloody do!" James slung an arm around him.

"You still want to be my friends…" Here, Remus seemed to speak the words in almost disbelief.

"Remus:" Sirius sent him a frolicking grin. "I would think you should know by now: one for all, and all for one. Remember? If there's a way we can help you cope with this, we'll find it, and we'll do it. Whatever it takes."

"Starting with a little late-night excursion to the library…" James's blue eyes gleamed as he now gripped his Invisibility Cloak in his fist.

The quartet broke into the library and raided the shelves for every single book on lycanthropy they could get their hands on. James and his friends well understood that they weren't looking for a cure. Rather, they were looking for a way for Remus to cope with his affliction, and for a way that might allow the other boys to help him in the coping.

"Do you actually go and see you mum, then?" James asked, even as he figured this had to be at least a partial lie. A Remus in werewolf form wouldn't want to be anywhere near his mother and put her in even more danger, even and especially if she truly was ill.

Remus grinned sheepishly. "Actually, whenever I've gone on my little trips, I've never left the grounds."

James sat up sharply from where he'd been leaning his chair back on two legs. "You what?"

Remus dipped his voice even lower. "There's a tunnel, under the Whomping Willow. It leads to the Shrieking Shack – you know, that haunted place at the edge of Hogsmeade Village? The one all the third years talk about?" Three sets of heads nodded. "That's where I go to ride out the full moon."

Peter was gnawing on his bottom lip. "If there's a place all ready for you to go hide… Then the teachers must know about it." He lifted his round head to gaze at Remus in awe. "Know about you."

Remus nodded meekly. "Dumbledore. McGonagall and Madame Pomfrey."

"Why Madame Pomfrey?" Sirius wanted to know. "Is it because you get hurt as…?"

James's eyes bulged as he understood Sirius's meaning. "Hurt? By other animals?"

"Sometimes," Remus flushed. "But mostly, the injuries come because I've been hurting myself, in my….. other form."

James threw up his hands frustratingly. "Peachy. The only way I see us helping Remus from not becoming a danger to himself, never mind others, and from making sure other animals don't hurt him, is if we protected him!"

Sirius's mind was beginning to whirl as he listened to his best mate rant. "Other animals…. Protected…." He slapped a hand on the table. "That's it, Potter! THAT'S IT! You're a blooming genius!"

"Huh?" Peter blinked, not following. Remus and James appeared just as lost.

"What if we transformed like Remus does?"

At Sirius's suggestion, Remus turned the color of the Bloody Baron. "You mean…. into werewolves? No. I won't bite any of you and make you look like me. I refuse!"

"We're not asking you to, prat!" Sirius was beaming.

"You just wondered about turning into werewolves!"

"Not werewolves," Sirius's eyes twinkled. "Other animals. Preferably, animals as large as you when you get all…. ahem – hairy." Peter held in a snort.

His own irises now as big as moons, James scrambled out of his seat and was now scanning frantically along one bookshelf. Selecting a tome, he rushed it back to the table and flopped it open onto a page depicting an illustration in which a wizard gradually transformed into a falcon. His name was Falco Aesalon, the first magical being of his kind.

The name of that kind was now printed across the top of the chapter in large block letters:

ANIMAGUS.