Remus' friends came to his house on August twenty-fifth, about a week and a half after the August full moon (which was in the shed again—the cellar had been harder to fix than Remus' father had initially anticipated). Remus and his parents were doing significantly better; things were still a bit somber, but neither Remus' father nor his mother minded hosting three energetic boys all weekend. They even allowed James, Sirius, and Peter to spend the night on both Saturday and Sunday.

James, Sirius, and Peter were, predictably, overjoyed at the prospect of a new home. None of them had ever moved houses before, with the exception of Peter (who, having been adopted, had moved families). "You moved all your things?" James asked in awe. "All of them? Every single one?"

"Every single one," confirmed Remus.

"Woah. That must've taken tons of house-elfs."

"Er, we did it ourselves."

"Woah!"

Remus gave them the tour to the best of his ability. The Lupins had been a bit too lethargic to put everything away, so the four of them had to hop over boxes every so often, which James and Sirius did with far too much glee. "Here's my room," said Remus. "It's a bit smaller than my old one, but…."

"Merlin's beard, Moony, this is barely big enough to fit inside!" said Sirius. "Why didn't you take the guest room that you showed us earlier?"

"Because of the—" Remus lowered his voice, not wanting his parents to hear— "secret passageway, Sirius."

"Rubbish. There's no secret passageway. You'd've found it by now."

"You never know! Besides, it's a nice room. I like it."

Remus gazed at his small corner room. The window was large, yes, and it was sometimes difficult to sleep on clear gibbous-moon nights, but it provided plenty of natural reading light during the day. There were green curtains that matched the wall beautifully. His books hadn't been unpacked, so the only books on the bookshelf were the Marauder notebook, the Marauder photo album, his school textbooks, the poetry book that Peter had given him in first year, and a half-organized pile of letters from Professor Questus. Remus' bed was on the right side of the room looking in, just as it had been in his old room. The lap desk that he'd gotten for the previous Christmas was set up on the floor. Professor Questus' pink blanket was haphazardly thrown across Remus' bed; Remus was very ashamed to admit that he'd been sleeping with it every night.

"Hey, that's the book I gave you!" said Peter, pointing to the poetry book.

"Mm-hm. I just unpacked the box with all my Christmas presents from Hogwarts yesterday, actually. I found a set of phials that Dumbledore gave me for Christmas in first year—I still don't know why he gave them to me, but he's wise enough that I figure I should keep them around…."

"Albus gave you a present?" said James, incredulous. "Like, an actual Christmas present? Just for the heck of it?"

"Yeah. So did Professor McGonagall, Professor Questus, and Madam Pomfrey."

"Why didn't they give any of the other students Christmas presents?"

"They might've. I was alone that year, though—I had you lot, but you didn't know the truth. I could only really have meaningful, open conversations with the professors. It was odd. I was closer that year to my professors than any of you, I think. Also, that was the year that all of you were at home and I was spending Christmas alone at Hogwarts, because traveling would have been too difficult with the blue moons in December that year…."

"Oh, right."

"Yes. It was very kind of them to think of me. Anyway, I have no clue what the phials are for."

Peter picked them up and inspected them. "I went to a wizarding therapist once," he said. "Because of my dad dying, you know. Mum was worried about me, so she sent me to one to get evaluated."

"Er, that's nice, Peter," said James.

"What's that got to do with anything?" said Sirius.

"The therapist gave me phials just like this and told me to re-watch my memories in a Pensieve. She said that I should alternate bad ones and good ones whenever I felt lost. She said that looking back was the best way to get a sense of direction, and that the sense of direction would help me look forward. But that wasn't what the phials were for, necessarily—you can do that without phials by just dropping the memory directly into the Pensieve. The phials were because she said that showing memories to other people helped relieve the burden, and phials can store and transport memories to different people."

Remus snorted. "Ah, so I guess it's just Dumbledore worrying about my mental state again. That's lovely."

"We all worry about your mental state, Remus," said Peter.

Remus covered his ears. "La, la, la… I can't hear you… please don't pity me, lads. I'm fine, all right?"

James bit his lip and nodded. "Sure thing, Moony."

"That's a dumb nickname. Oh! Do you want to see the cellar? Dad's trying to fix it for full moons, but right now one of the walls is completely gone and it's just dirt. It's slowly collapsing."

The prospect of a collapsing underground cellar did wonders in pulling the Marauders' attention away from Remus' supposedly-fragile mental state. Remus silently thanked the few lucky stars he had that his friends had the attention spans of several toddlers.

"This is where you'll transform?" said James, gazing at the cellar. "It's… it's rather small, isn't it?"

"There's not enough room in here for four animals," mused Peter, and Sirius hit him.

"Er… what?" said Remus. "What do you mean, four animals? There's only one of me, so this cellar is plenty large."

"James read that one werewolf is about the size of four average-sized animals, that's all," said Peter, and Remus heard all three of his friends collectively exhale.

"What's the size of an 'average animal'?" asked Remus. "Doesn't it depend on the animal? Werewolves are really big, but they definitely aren't four times the size of an average wolf…"

"I dunno," said James. "Maybe it's a rabbit. There're lots of small animals, so they probably cancel all the big ones out."

"I don't know anything about rabbits, but I do know that a werewolf is much larger than four rabbits."

"You're probably right," said Sirius. "Maybe an 'average animal' is a dog, then."

"But dogs come in all shapes and sizes. Four Great Danes seems too big. Perhaps four golden retrievers. Maybe five." Remus had no idea how big a werewolf was relative to golden retrievers. He'd never seen a golden retriever; he only knew that they were smaller than a Great Dane (which he had also never seen). "It doesn't really matter, though."

"So how big are you, then?" asked Sirius curiously. "Are you, like…" He held a hand up to his neck. "Here? Or…" He moved the hand to his knee. "Here?"

"What? Why would I be the size of your knee?"

"Remus Lupin: small but deadly."

"Sirius!" Remus was laughing now, imagining a tiny raving werewolf. "I suppose I was that size at one point. I was little when I was five. Like… there." Remus prodded a spot near the bottom of the wall. "Very small. Easy to contain. And then I was… about here… when I was seven. And then when I was eleven I was… here. Right now, I think that I'm right around…." Remus stared at the wall and thought about full moons. He moved his hand a few inches up. "Here. Yeah, I think I'm here right now. But you never really know—it's not as if I stop ravaging the furniture to measure myself…."

"Wait," said James, holding up a hand and grinning in pure glee. "You were a baby werewolf?"

"Er… yes? It's not as if I just shot up to full size as a toddler, James. I wouldn't have survived that."

"You mean you were that tiny? Just a little adorable itty-bitty furball?"

"I was a dangerous furball. Coulda taken your head off."

James seemed to think that was hilarious, and so did Sirius. Peter, who always started laughing when one of his friends started laughing, began wheezing. Remus typically didn't like to think about how awful his transformations were at that age, but now he was laughing until his abdomen hurt at the image of a tiny furball with teeth tumbling about the Welsh cellar.

"Come on," he said after he managed to catch his breath, "let's go look for the secret passageway."

Sirius groaned. "Not this again! There is no secret passageway, Remus."

"There are tons of secret passageways in the school! What makes you think that there aren't any at my house?"

"The Black Manor at Grimmauld is huge and old as dirt, but there are no secret passageways. I've checked." Sirius' face twisted into a scowl. "It'd be no fair if you had one and I didn't."

"Ah, come off it," said James, swatting Sirius' arm. "Remus deserves a secret passageway or two to make up for his furry little problem, eh?"

Remus blinked. "Furry… little… problem?"

"Yeah. 'Cos of the furball thing. You admitted it, mate—you were once a tiny, fanged, dangerous furball. A little furry problem."

"But I'm not little anymore. And I'd say my problem is extremely big."

"Details," said James with a dismissive wave of his hand. "It's no big deal. You're just like the rest of us, 'cept one night a month. Now come on, let's go find that secret passageway!"

They wandered Remus' room for a very long time, looking for any sort of hint. Well, Peter, James, and Remus looked for hints. Sirius disdainfully watched from the corner of Remus' room and teased James, whose hair got more and more out-of-control as he searched. "There's got to be a way to enter the passageway," said Remus. "Maybe it's a secret knocking pattern? Or a password?"

"Don't be silly," scoffed Sirius. "There's got to be a portrait or something to let you in if it's a password."

Remus drew his hand across the wall and listened. "Shh," he said.

There was silence. Remus listened to the sounds that the wall was making as his hand brushed against the paint.

"Do you need us to stop breathing?" asked James.

"Shh," said Sirius, "he's using his super-secret werewolf powers."

Remus started laughing. "Shut up. Oi, Pete, hand me the quill on my desk over there. Dip it in the ink first."

Peter did so, and Remus made four small marks on the wall. "What are you doing?" cried Peter. "My mum would kill me if I drew on my wall!"

"I destroy the cellar every single month. Or the shed right now… since the cellar is under construction. My parents will be fine if I make some marks on the wall. Besides, they'll wash right off." Remus grinned, feeling very proud of himself for being so flippant about his condition. He rarely felt the freedom to be so candid around his parents, no matter how much they told him that they were okay with him talking about it. "Anyway… Sirius said that there's a portrait or something that needs to let us in…."

"No, I said there would need to be a portrait or something. But there isn't, because there's no secret passageway…."

"But maybe there is," said Remus. "There's something behind the wall right here. The paint sounds different… and it smells a bit different, too… I think it's newer. And whatever's behind the wall is rectangular and a little bit thicker on the edges… it's right there, where I've marked it with the ink. See? It's got to be a portrait."

James was practically bouncing. "So do we need to take down the wall?"

"Gosh, no. Mum might be okay if I make tiny ink marks on the wall, but she'll never allow me to do that, werewolf or no. I think… maybe it's on the outside of the house?"

The Marauders dashed outside, nearly knocking over Remus' father on their way. "What are you boys up to?" he said, crossing his arms. "You should play outside—Remus' room isn't nearly big enough to do anything fun. Besides, it's a very nice day—"

"That's what we're doing right now, Dad!" said Remus. "Playing outside! See you in a bit!"

"Don't forget to drink water! And rest if you need to, Remus! Don't run around too much! Be careful with your leg! And…."

"Will do, Dad!" Remus rolled his eyes and dashed to the outside of his room. "Look! James, Peter, Sirius! There's a giant plant covering up the outside! Something's got to be behind it!"

And there was, indeed, a giant plant wrapped around the exterior of the house, effectively covering up the outside of Remus' room: exactly where he'd drawn the ink. "Did we learn about that plant in Herbology?" Remus asked. It wasn't any sort of plant he'd ever seen before, but it was pulsating slightly—a clear sign that it was magical. On further inspection, it had a sort of green, shimmering light surrounding it. Remus put a hand in front of Peter's chest to stop him from making contact with the glimmering light.

"I think those are Visionvines," said James thoughtfully. "We didn't learn about them in Herbology, but we talked about them in History of Magic, remember?"

"No," said Sirius.

"No," said Peter.

"Er, no," said Remus, "and how do you remember? You never pay any attention. You're always either sleeping or drawing mean pictures of Snape dying in gruesome ways."

James laughed. "That's the magical memory of James Potter: Manly Quidditch Star and Scholar Extraordinaire…."

"Scholar Extraordinaire? You never turned in an ounce of homework in your life."

"Right. Well, anyway. Cuthbert mentioned them sort of as a footnote. I think you were gone 'visiting your mother', Remus… this was first year, so we didn't know about your furry little problem yet. Visionvines are native to Ireland, I think, and once a bloke accidentally wandered into a thicket of them and didn't emerge for twenty years."

Peter looked frightened, and he grabbed Remus' gloved hand. "Should we let Mr. Lupin deal with them, then?"

"Nah, we're much better wizards than old May over there," said James. "It'll be fun!"

"Wait!" said Remus. "What do they even do?"

"Well, duh. They're called Visionvines. They show you some sort of vision. I don't know what sort, but it's gotta be pretty awesome if the Irish bloke spent twenty years in it."

"Or maybe it just doesn't let you leave," said Peter. "Maybe it convinces you that it's reality, so you don't even know that there is an escape. Maybe the exit closes behind you and you can't get back out!"

"But there must be a way to get back out, because the Irish bloke did get out!"

"Maybe we should do some more research first," said Remus. "I… can't get stuck for twenty years, James. I need to be in an enclosed location by the twelfth of September."

"Don't be ridiculous!" James said. "Aren't you excited to find out what's in there? Aren't you excited to get into the secret passage?"

"I am!" protested Remus. He'd been feeling very fun-loving and bouncy lately, but now he sobered immediately. "I am excited. I just need to be responsible. I can't risk being in there for a couple of weeks and then hurting someone. I'm a werewolf, James. I need to be responsible... that's my job."

James opened his mouth and put a hand on Remus' right shoulder as if he was going to say something comforting, but then Sirius grabbed James' arm and pulled him away. "Well, you can stay here, but I'm going. Seems fun. Come on, James!"

James took one last look at Remus, grinned, and then gripped Sirius' hand. Together, the two of them jumped into the shimmering green light… and promptly disappeared.

"JAMES!" cried Peter. "SIRIUS!"

Remus' mouth fell open. "Those idiots!" he said. "I didn't think they would actually do it! They just risked their lives over a plant!"

"You think they'll die?" said Peter, who was sort of hyperventilating.

"I… I don't know! That was insanely stupid!" Remus stared at the shimmery light and counted to thirty in his head. Nothing happened. "It's not even… I mean, they're completely gone. Their scents are gone. Their breathing is gone. Everything's completely gone, Peter…."

"Did it transport them somewhere?"

"I don't know! I know as much as you do!" Remus didn't think that he was about to truly panic like he did before a full moon, but he held his breath like Professor Questus had instructed anyway. About a minute passed, and then he let it out, feeling dizzy. "I'm going in," he said confidently.

"No, Remus! Let's get your parents!"

"And let them risk their lives because I wasn't quick enough to stop my friends? No way!" Remus took a deep breath and stepped forward—not enough to touch the shimmery light, but enough to be nose-to-nose with it. He let go of Peter's hand. "You can have my things if I die," he told Peter helpfully; after all, Professor Questus' will had just about doubled the Lupins' money supply.

"Remus, don't!" Peter begged.

"I'll be fine. I've survived worse than a silly plant." Remus tried not to think about Professor Questus' sister, murdered by a Devil's Snare… and then he took four steps forward into the light.

Nothing happened.

"Can you still see me, Peter?" he said from the other side. "I feel the same."

Peter didn't respond; he was still standing there, tears streaming down his cheeks and frozen in place.

"Peter?" said Remus again. "Can you see me? Just nod or shake your head, mate."

No response.

Remus, experimentally, stepped out of the light. "Peter? Hello?" he said, but Peter still did not respond. "Well, that's interesting," said Remus softly. He wandered around the exterior of the house: it all looked the same, but something felt off. Perhaps it was the fact that he couldn't smell nor hear his parents inside, but there was something else… another scent… a familiar one….

Remus dashed to the front door, turned the doorknob so hard that it nearly broke, and ran into the sitting room (not even bothering to close the door behind him).

There, in the sitting room, was someone that Remus had never expected to see ever again.

"Where were you going so quickly? You look as if you were being chased by a werewolf or something," chuckled Professor Questus.

AN: Hold on to your hats ;)