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Remus had never attended school before, and therefore had never had homework before. To him, homework was a part of being at Hogwarts, and like everything else about Hogwarts, he considered it to be a bit of an honor and a privilege. Knowing that his magical education could be cut short at any moment, he wanted to take advantage of any opportunity to learn and practice.

His friends were completely baffled by this attitude. James and Peter had actually spent a couple of years at muggle school when they were younger, and Sirius had had private tutors for most of his life. They, and everyone else at Hogwarts, considered homework to be a terrible nuisance, interfering with quality social time. As November brought in the first snow storm of the season, it also interfered with Sirius, James and Peter's plans to have snowball fights, to hide behind the greenhouses and hit Slytherins with snowballs, and to sneak up behind girls and stuff snowballs down the backs of their robes.

"What happened to you?" Remus asked one evening as Sirius plopped down beside him at a table in the common room. His head was soaked, and bits of snow and ice clung to his eyebrows and hair. "And move over, you're dripping on my essay."

"I got Susan Bagshot from behind with a snowball."

"And she chased him down and stuffed his face in a snow bank," Peter said as he and James joined them at the table, laughing.

"I think she's had too much experience getting attacked by the Slytherins," James snorted. "She can take care of herself."

"What are you working on?" Sirius asked, trying very hard to look dignified and ignore Peter and James. It was hard to do with his hair sticking out all different directions.

"The essay about levitation charms," Remus said. "Can you hand me that book?"

"Remus!" James cried, looking horrified. "That essay isn't due for four more days!"

"I just want to get it over with," Remus said. "That way I'll have the weekend free." He reached over Sirius and grabbed the book. "You guys should consider starting on yours too."

Peter laughed at the look on James's face. He actually looked confused at the thought. "What? Now?"

"Yes, now." Remus rolled his eyes.

"But it's Thursday! That's the day before the weekend! You can't do homework on the day before the weekend!"

Remus tried not to feel too annoyed when James and Sirius both managed to get their essays completed on Sunday night, and what made it worse was that he knew they would get good grades. He had spent Sunday evening helping Peter with his. James and Sirius might be able to get away with leaving their work until the last minute, but Peter, like Remus, had to work a little bit harder.

"Hey," Remus muttered as they headed up the stairs to their dorm Sunday night. "Next time, start a little earlier, all right?"

Peter nodded, his face pink. He wouldn't have been able to finish the essay without Remus's help, and Remus knew he was embarrassed. James and Sirius treated them as equals, and he knew it had been a rude awakening for Peter that night to realize that he could not get away with irresponsibility the way that his friends could.

"Thanks for helping me," he muttered, and Remus nodded.

When they got their papers back the following week, he didn't ask the others how they had done. He had done extremely well, but he was still afraid that they might have gotten better marks than him, and he thought he might have to hit something if they had. Unfortunately, the others did not suffer from any such insecurity.

"So how'd you do?" Sirius asked as they left class.

"Seventeen out of twenty," Peter answered promptly, shooting Remus a grateful look.

"Nineteen out of twenty," James said. "He counted off a point because he said that it was obvious that I was just trying to fill up space at the end."

"Were you?" Sirius asked.

"Of course. And you?"

"Eighteen out of twenty," Sirius said. "How about you, Remus?"

He tried not to look too smug. "Twenty one."

"Out of twenty?" Sirius demanded. "How did you pull that off?"

"He said that I exhibited a knowledge of the theory that was more sophisticated than a first year would normally-"

"You're really smart, blah, blah, blah," James brushed him off. "Good job."

"Yeah, well done," Sirius echoed.

He had to admit, he felt slightly vindicated. Granted, his friends had all received high marks, but he had received the highest. And any annoyance that he'd felt at their lack of effort had faded with their comments. At least they recognized that he had done well, and were able to appreciate his effort.

"We don't have any homework due tomorrow," Sirius said, looking out the window. A heavy snow was falling, obscuring the view of the grounds. " Right, Remus?"

"Right," Remus said slowly, unsure where Sirius was heading with this.

"So what do you say?"

"What do I say to what?"

"Taking the afternoon off! Having some fun!" Sirius grinned, and Remus recognized the evil glint in his eye.

"Uh, Sirius? We might not have homework to do this afternoon, but we do still have Herbology." How on earth could Sirius have forgotten about a class? But then Remus realized from the grin on his friend's face that Sirius hadn't forgotten at all. Remus looked around at the others. James looked uncertain, and Peter seemed to be waiting for James's reaction before deciding what his own would be.

"Absolutely not," Remus said instantly.

"Come on! Why not?" Sirius gestured to the snow outside. "I mean, do you really want to walk to the greenhouses in this?"

"No," said Remus, "but I'm going to." Sirius turned to James for support.

"I don't know," James said finally. "Maybe it's not such a good idea."

Sirius sulked all the way to the greenhouse. Remus thought about trying to talk to him, but there was simply no way to explain. Remus already knew that he was going to have to miss more class than the average student; the next full moon was on a Sunday night. He was determined to make it to his afternoon classes on Monday, but he knew that morning classes were completely out of the question.

Like homework, Remus felt that classes were something special. Sirius didn't get that. As he watched Sirius pouting, he had to resist the urge to fling a lovage root at his head when he wasn't looking.

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His friends had hardly noticed the first time he had gone missing. The second time, their questions had been more skeptical and probing. Remus figured that this time, he had better give them some warning. Since he had used the sick grandmother story before, he thought he might use it again. After all, it was more likely that his grandmother was frequently sick than a different member of his family was sick every month.

He would tell them he had gotten an owl, he decided, and that he had to leave that evening to go home. It was at dinner, when he had planned to tell them, that he realized the problem with the plan. He had been with his friends all day, and they knew that he had not received an owl. He was trying to figure out a way around this when a fourth year bumped into James, accidentally knocking James into his plate of food and spilling his drink. As the fourth year was apologizing and Sirius and Peter were trying to help mop up the drink, it was almost too easy to slip away unnoticed.

As he sat naked and shivering in the shack that night, he knew that he had only made things worse. Not only had he not forewarned them of his absence, but he had disappeared right in the middle of dinner, right under their noses. On top of that, he was going to miss class, something he had absolutely refused to do once since the beginning of school. There was no way he was going to be able to avoid their questions the next day.

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Unfortunately, the next day was not an easy one. He slept through the morning, but, just like he had promised himself, he pulled himself out of bed for his afternoon classes. Perhaps because of his anxiety about his friends, he had been more brutal than usual the night before. Madame Pomfrey had done her best when she had fetched him early that morning, but his entire left arm still looked like it had been gnawed upon by a wild beast, and he had a bright bruise the size of an apple on his right temple.

He trudged into Charms with his hair in his face, trying not to make eye contact with anyone. To his surprise, his friends didn't ask him any questions at all. They just looked at him inquisitively as he sat down.

"Grandmother was sick again," he muttered. He didn't look up to see their reactions, but just focused on getting his books out.

As it turned out, he really might not have bothered coming to class at all. He felt like he was in a fog, and he kept forgetting to take notes. Strangely, he saw from the corner of his eye that Sirius was taking notes, something that Sirius generally objected to on principle.

Remus considered not going to Herbology, but he was afraid of demonstrating any more strange behavior. He trudged, rather slower than usual, to the greenhouse. His friends walked with him, their joking and teasing subdued. They were nearly to the greenhouse when Remus stumbled, almost falling face first in the snow, and Peter caught him by the back of his robes.

"You all right?" James asked, and Remus nodded. He was too tired to make up an excuse about tripping over something, or to joke about being clumsy. He just wanted to go to bed. They made the rest of the walk in silence.

Had he been paying attention during class, Remus might have noticed that once again, Sirius was being unusually attentive and studious, as were James and Peter. As it was, all he noticed was that his left arm wasn't capable of repotting anything, and he was afraid that if he kept trying, he might tear open the wounds again. He felt guilty as he stood there in a stupor, watching his friends work, but he couldn't seem to force his body to help them.

"Where are we going?" he mumbled as they walked past the entrance into the Great Hall after class. "Aren't we going to eat dinner?"

"We'll bring you dinner," James said tersely. Remus became vaguely aware that someone was holding onto his arm, holding him up, though he wasn't sure who. He was grateful that they had his right arm, and not his left, which was throbbing.

They marched him, albeit rather slowly, straight up to Gryffindor tower, and into their dormitory.

"Get some rest," Peter said as they helped him onto his bed. He collapsed back, welcoming sleep.

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It was several hours later when he awoke. He still felt a little fuzzy, but not nearly as bad as he had. Now that his brain was working a little more clearly, he felt incredibly stupid for forcing himself to go to classes that afternoon. He knew how drained he always was the day after, how exhausted and pained he always was.

Well actually, he admitted to himself, I didn't really know. The truth was, he had never tried to make himself do more than climb out of bed for lunch and dinner. He now knew that there was no chance of him making it to classes at all during the day following the full moon each month.

"Hey, he's awake," he heard James say. The curtains to his bed were still open, and he was lying stiffly on top of the covers, still fully clothed.

"You all right?" Peter asked as the three of them congregated around his bed. Remus nodded, not looking at them.

"We brought you some dinner." A stack of sandwiches sat on a napkin on the table next to the water pitcher.

"Thank you," he mumbled, sitting up as Peter brought them over.

"And your notes are by your bag," Sirius added, pointing to a stack of parchment.

"My notes?" Remus asked around a mouthful of sandwich, still trying to avoid his friends' eyes without appearing rude.

"Yeah," James said. "Notes. We knew you'd go mental if you missed a whole day of notes in class."

For a moment, he felt an overwhelming wave of guilt. He was lying to his friends, and they were bringing him food and taking notes for him. He had a strange desire to tell them the truth. This was quickly followed by that solid, sickening knowledge that he could do no such thing.

"So does your grandmother beat you?" He jumped slightly as James startled him out of his thoughts.

"What?" he asked, confused. James gestured to the bruise on his face. "What? No," he said. "It's nothing. Look, I'm just going to go to bed, all right?" he said, cramming the rest of his sandwich into his mouth, and turning his back on them as he pulled his pajamas out of his trunk.

"Yeah, sure," James said, and Remus felt rather than saw the expressions they all exchanged behind his back. He wondered if the expressions were angry or confused or hurt, but he felt too tired to worry about it just then. I'll deal with it tomorrow, after I've slept this off, he thought to himself as he pulled off his robes.

He realized his mistake an instant before he heard their collective gasp. He threw his pajama top on as quickly as possible, not even caring that it was backwards and inside out, but he hadn't even gotten his right arm into the sleeve before Sirius had closed the gap between them.

"Arm," he said sharply, his voice a few notes higher than usual. "Now."

Even though he knew it was a futile effort, Remus tried shoving his right arm through the sleeve and holding it out.

"Other arm, Remus," Sirius said. He sounded angry.

Resigned, he pushed up his left sleeve. "It's nothing," he said, echoing his previous statement. James and Peter had joined Sirius, gaping at his bloody arm.

"What the hell happened to you?" James exclaimed in horror.

"It was just a stupid accident. I mean, I wasn't feeling well, I think I caught whatever my grandmother had. Anyway, you saw me today, I could barely walk straight. Well, I had a clumsy moment before I left this morning, and I hurt myself. My mum looked at it, and I'll be fine." Remus said it all in a rush, frantically making up the story as he went.

"Your mum looked at it?" Peter echoed.

"Yeah, before I left our house this morning. She's good with this kind of stuff." That much was true. His mother had years of experience dealing with his wounds.

"I thought you were at your grandmother's," Sirius said.

"No, I was at our house. I mean, that's where my grandmother was. Is. Because she's sick."

For the first time all day, Remus actually looked up at his friends. They were glaring at him, and he knew they didn't believe his story for an instant.

"Does it hurt?" Sirius asked finally, looking back down at his arm.

"Nah," Remus said. "I've had worse." He regretted saying it instantly, despite it being true. The suspicious look in each of their eyes had sharpened at the words.

"Look, I'm tired," Remus said, and he couldn't keep the pleading note out of his voice. "And I can't miss another day of classes."

They stared at him for another moment, then James nodded curtly. "Fine. Right. Get some sleep. You look like crap." Strangely, the last sentence was said with the least amount of malice.

If he hadn't been so tired, he would have stayed up all night worrying. As it was, he just had enough energy to register that his friends were all whispering together on the other side of the room, and to realize that they were almost certainly talking about him. Then sleep came again.