AN: Hey guys...*looks around nervously* Um, so I know it's been a while – okay, it's been a little over a year – but I can explain! Alright, no I can't. Not at all. I'm not sure why I stopped writing this. I just wasn't sure where this was going, but I was looking through all my old stuff and figured I'd give it another go. So, here's to second chances…right? Cheers!

James-

James lounged on the loveseat of the main room of the dorms and stared out the window. It was October twelfth and the year was already flying passed. There was a lightning storm that evening. To him, lightning was relaxing. He wasn't sure why. He loved the way it lit up the night sky. It was intriguing, a magic all its own, beautiful.

Beautiful. Lily. It'd been over a year since he last asked her out. He'd tried countless times to just get over her. There was no way to do so, however. Not that he wanted to anyways. If there was anyone in the entire world that he would say was made for him, it was Lily.

Just then, the portrait opened. 'Speak of the devil.' Lily looked out the window, her eyes wide and frantic. She looked quite disheveled. "Lily?" He was worried.

"James," she spoke in a soft whisper.

He got up from his spot on the couch and went to her. There was a bright flash of lightning. Her eyes, if possible, widened a little more, and she stiffened. 'Ohh, she's afraid of lightning.' James wrapped his arms protectively around Lily. "It's going to be okay, Lils. The lightning won't strike Hogwarts. There are too many protective charms around the castle." He brought her over to the couch and sat her down.

"I'm sorry, James. I've been scared of it since I was little," she whispered. "My mother, sister, and I were driving in a car when lightning struck the grass on the side of the road as we were passing. The sky lit up so bright, all you could see was white around you. I screamed and my mom swerved causing a very near accident. I guess it was traumatizing for a five-year-old."

Lily rarely talked about her life outside of Hogwarts, and this was the first time she'd ever talked about her days before. He liked having a bit of an insight into her life. "It's okay, Lily," he said, holding her a bit tighter. "I'll always protect you." This was said in a whisper, and he looked into her frightened emerald eyes. Beautiful.

Lily-

She stared back. Back into those hazel depths. Oh, how she could get lost in those orbs. In them, she saw that ever-present twinkle – that spark that showed how vibrant and full of life he was. She saw intensity, something that only came about in the most serious of moments. But most of all, she saw that gentle caring that was so endearing, and – dare she even think it? – love? No, that couldn't be right. Just a trick of the light, nothing more. Despite knowing this, she subconsciously found herself leaning forward.

Just then, with a timing that was so typical of him, she heard the muffled voice of Sirius in James's pocket. Lily was grateful. The interruption forced her to realize herself and what she was doing. She jerked herself out of his comforting arms. Something else showed in his eyes at that moment. Was it annoyance?

"Padfoot," he said brusquely.

"Prongs! Get your arse down here! Moony's waiting for us." James's face showed shock, while Lily was pretty sure hers showed confusion.

"Right. You blokes go ahead. I'll catch up."

"James?" she asked. There was no way Remus would be waiting for the others. He was currently hidden away somewhere for his transformation. "I thought Remus was off visiting his sick mother?" As far as any of the Marauders knew, she had no idea about Remus's 'fury little problem'.

"Of course he is. Remus invented a spell that allows instant correspondence through parchment. This is the time he uh designated for us to talk to him," he replied looking anywhere but at her. "I'll be sleeping with the guys tonight, so don't wait up." He smiled at her and gave a quick hug.

"Alright. Goodnight, James." She was terribly confused. James never lied to her. She wondered briefly if he realized what a horrible liar he actually was. That, of course, was beside the point. She tried to fit the pieces together, but there were still holes. Remus was currently enduring a very painful transformation. James, Sirius, and Peter were currently doing – what were they doing? That's what she wanted to find out. Whatever it was certainly it had nothing to do with Remus and his condition. Did it? She decided to push it to the side for now, but she'd be keeping an eye out for more suspicious behavior from the four of them. She curled up in an armchair by the fire and conjured up The Dark Tower: The Gunslinger by Stephen King.

Remus-

Every full moon was the same. He checks into the hospital wing and was then escorted by Madam Pomfrey to the Whomping Willow. She sends off a spell at the knot at the base of the tree, and the tree instantly stills. She gives him a sympathetic look and a wish of good luck. He heads down the tunnel as she turns away. The tunnel is long, short, and narrow, but he knows every turn, dip, rut, and the lowest parts. Once he reaches the shack, he heads straight for the farthest room.

He'd always thought that this must have been the master bedroom before the shack was abandoned. He looked around the room once more. No matter how many times he'd been there, it was always a tiny bit different each time he came. That, of course, was his fault. He studied the room for a brief moment. He never failed to be utterly repulsed by the damage. He remembered his first time in this very room. The furniture was whole, complete. Now, looking around, he saw the bed with the springs poking out. He saw scratches on the wall, broken chair, a shattered mirror, and a busted window, a window through which the moon finally came into view.

His transformations weren't like the muggle movies. Nothing happened individually. It all happened at once. It was a very slow and painful process. His hair grew thick and coarse throughout his body, all his bones shifted, his face elongated, his nose changed completely, and his nails grew into claws. Throughout this process, he thrashed about, trying desperately to cling to anything he could for support but finding he could only rip and tear at it. He was gone, and all that was left was Moony.

Moony smelled three animals. He didn't know, nor did he care if they were a threat or not. He simply waited so he could attack.