To Sirius' great dismay, James skipped out on his daily Hexing First-Years Time to study with Remus and Peter. Sirius was forced to study along with them lest he be left to hex first-years by himself (and everyone knew that hexing first-years was no fun as a solo activity).

"Woah," said James. "My Muggle Studies teacher was talking about medical nonsense, and apparently Muggles cut people open to look inside. Gross."

"That's barbaric," said Sirius with a shudder. He was currently trying to see how many quills he could balance on top of each other, and he was failing miserably with a high score of zero. "If they're going to cut stuff open for fun, then why don't they just use house-elfs or something instead? They shouldn't be cutting people open."

"What?" said Remus. "No. They don't do it for fun. They do it because it helps people."

"How could cutting someone open possibly help people?" asked Peter, wrinkling his nose.

"It's called surgery! When something's gone wrong on the inside, Muggles have a way of opening them up and fixing them from the inside-out without permanently damaging the patient… well, usually. It's genius."

"It's not genius!" said Sirius. "Urgh, I think I'm gonna be sick."

Remus rolled his eyes. "Well, they can't very well use magic, Sirius. What else are they supposed to do?"

"Must be weird, not being able to use magic," mused James. "Wow. I wonder what it feels like to be cut open."

"Nothing," said Remus. "Doesn't it say that in your textbook? They put them under anesthesia—that's sort of like a Sleeping Draught—and numb them—that's sort of like a Pain-Reliving Potion, except stronger. When they wake up, it's all finished. They'll be a little sore afterwards, but it doesn't hurt more than a Quidditch injury."

"Oh, yeah," said James. "There is a bit about that, right here at the bottom of the page. How do you know all this stuff, Moony?"

"I've had a few," said Remus noncommittally, flipping a page of his Arithmancy textbook.

When he looked up, James was two inches away from his face, staring at him excitedly. "Really? You had a… a sur-ger-y? What did it feel like? Did you die?"

"Yes, I died," said Remus sarcastically. "I'm right here, mate. Of course I didn't die. And I just told you. It didn't feel like anything, because I was sleeping."

"But they cut you open?!"

"Yeah. That's how it works."

"Where?!"

"My head. And another on my chest."

"Why?!"

Remus sighed and shut his book. "Magical solutions weren't working for my lycanthropy. After Mum and Dad had searched for cures in the wizarding world and come up empty dozens of times, they thought that maybe they'd try a good old-fashioned Muggle solution. They took me to a Muggle doctor, but he had no idea what was wrong with me... I think he had the shock of his life, actually, because it's quite obvious I'm not human when one looks a little closer. My heartbeat is faster than a normal person's. My blood is thicker—you know, that way I can get worse injuries without bleeding out. My brain waves are a bit different, I think. And some other things: blood pressure, pain tolerance, et cetera. Anyway, the doctors tried to figure out what was wrong with me for ages. We already knew, of course, but we couldn't tell them."

"Did they find out?"

"No. Eventually, they said that I seemed to be functioning perfectly well; it was just a few odd deformations. They said there was nothing they could do."

"But what was it like?"

"I was sleeping, James! It was a lot better than some of the wizarding solutions that Mum and Dad looked at. And the doctors were all really nice, too. Muggles aren't prejudiced at all."

"Huh," said James. "Well, thanks. That'll help me write my essay, I think."

"Please don't write about my lycanthropy."

"I wasn't planning on it, obviously. I'm not an idiot. Oi... what are you doing, by the way? We didn't have Arithmancy homework."

Remus held up his textbook. "I'm starting on my project."

"What? Already?" said James. He turned to Sirius. "For reference, Padfoot, this project isn't due till the end of fifth year."

Sirius' mouth fell open. "That's a new low, Remus, even for you!"

"Well, it's going to be a very big project," said Remus, "and it'll probably get even closer to curing my lycanthropy than the Muggle surgeries did."

James jumped up, excited—and also a little disappointed, Remus thought, as he hastily shoved a book under his bed… but it must have been a trick of the light. "You're gonna cure it?" he yelped. "You're going to cure your lycanthropy with Arithmancy?"

"No, not cure. But maybe it'll help… if only just a bit. I just want to know which moons are going to be worse and exactly what time I'll transform to and fro, that's all. It'll be helpful; I know it will."

"Do you need help?" said James eagerly. "I can help you, you know! I can help you make the number chart and all that…."

Remus shook his head. "Not unless you can stay in a room without a transformed werewolf without getting hurt," he said.

"But I can," said James. "I can! I can figure it out!"

"NO!" Remus realized too late that he had sort of shouted. "No, James! Do you even hear yourself, you absolute idiot? No!" He took a deep breath: in through his nose, out through his mouth. "Besides, Craff doesn't think that I can do it by myself, and I want to prove her wrong. I'll get it… if it's possible. But it's magic, so it must be predictable. That's what Arithmancy is all about."

James frowned. "But… how are you going to… Moony, you realize that this is all based on experience and experimentation, yes?"

"Are you suggesting I don't have experience?"

"No, I'm suggesting that you need to be able to see the results. You'll need to know the exact time you transform every month. How are you going to do that? From what you've told us… it doesn't sound like you have the…"

"Presence of mind," supplied Remus. "No, I don't. I'm still thinking about that. My plan right now is to get a clock to put in the Shrieking Shack, and then I'll use the Pensieve to re-watch the full moon memories." Remus grimaced a bit. He really wasn't looking forward to doing that. He'd never seen a full moon memory—he'd never even seen a werewolf transform, really—and he wasn't keen to witness such a horrific event for the first time… though he supposed anything would be better than actually experiencing it. "I'll ask Dumbledore. Right now I'm making a list of all the potential factors. I can only run the experiment once a month, so two years gives me about twenty-four full moons. Though there is a blue moon in 1974, so that gives me an extra one… hm. Point is, I need to start as soon as possible, because getting data will be difficult with such a small amount of full moons to go off of."

"How are you going to measure how bad the full moons are?"

"Dunno. I'll figure that out, too."

"I think it's a good idea," said Peter. "I hope it'll help."

"It'll help," said Remus firmly. "I know it."

He didn't know it at all, actually—but if there was one thing James and Sirius had taught him, it was that a little bit of confidence could change the world.

Remus arrived at Dumbledore's office that very evening. He couldn't stop thinking about his project—there were so many possibilities, and Remus could scarcely begin to imagine the possible effects of a successful result. He could actually help people. He could get the number chart published, perhaps, and maybe it would create more awareness for werewolf rights. A werewolf arithmancer would certainly boost the werewolf public image, wouldn't it?

But alas, he knew that he oughtn't get too far ahead of himself. There was always the possibility that it wasn't possible to predict the severity and timing of werewolf transformations. After all, no one had done it before, and Remus wasn't anything special.

Well, he was quite special, he supposed, but only in the unpleasant sorts of ways.

Upon arriving at Dumbledore's office, Remus whispered the password to the gargoyles (fortunately, Dumbledore hadn't changed it from last time), and knocked on the door. There was a very long moment of silence, but Remus didn't dare knock again; after all, he heard the scritching of Dumbledore's quill pause from inside the office. Dumbledore had heard Remus.

Dumbledore's robes swished as he stood up, and then the door opened. "Ah, Remus Lupin," said Dumbledore. "I was wondering when I'd be seeing you. Come in."

Remus wondered if Craff had told him about Remus' project… or, even worse, about her argument with James. Remus wasn't feeling so well all of a sudden, even though he'd arrived at Dumbledore's office with a song in his heart and a spring in his step. "Yes, sir," he mumbled, but Dumbledore did not seem fazed at all by his apparent moodiness.

Remus took a seat. Even though Dumbledore had not been expecting his visit (or perhaps he had), the portraits were already covered. "Are those portraits still giving you a hard time about my attendance?" asked Remus, waving a hand towards the largest one.

Dumbledore laughed. "They tend to give me a hard time about most everything. Do you know, the other day Dilys criticized my pronunciation of the word 'avocado'? Very strange."

Remus took that to be a resounding yes, and he cringed slightly. "Why were you pronouncing the word 'avocado' in the first place, sir?"

"I was craving an avocado and asked a house-elf to fetch me one. Nothing too exotic, I'm afraid." Dumbledore sat down and handed Remus a cup of tea, which seemed as if it had been made very recently. Remus wondered again if Dumbledore had genuinely been expecting him. He didn't think that Arithmancy help was a tea-drinking sort of conversation—after all, he only intended to be in there long enough to ask a few simple questions—but he didn't dare question the most powerful wizard in the world. "Now, why don't you tell me why you're here? Though I must confess that I already have an inkling," said Dumbledore.

"It's about my Arithmancy project, Professor. I have an idea for it, but I need some help, and I didn't know who else to come to." Remus thought about how much he would have liked to do the project with Professor Questus, but he didn't say that part aloud.

"Oh," said Dumbledore. He looked a bit surprised, though Remus couldn't think why. "That is… not what I was expecting."

"What were you expecting, sir?"

"Well, I… forgive me. I thought that you were going to ask me about the publicization of what happened last summer."

"The publicization?" repeated Remus, dreading the answer.

"Yes. I thought you might be a bit shocked to learn that the whole school, the teachers, and the town of Hogsmeade know the details."

"Well, it was in the Prophet… wasn't it? James got me a copy."

"Oh," said Dumbledore again. "I had not realized that you had seen it already. I had saved one for you." Then he smiled. "You have good friends."

Remus grinned. "Yes, I do. Is there anything else I need to know about the… publicization?"

"Not at all. Fortunately, all the buzz has mostly died down. I did have to make a public announcement at the end of last year, and there was one girl whose aunt and uncle had both died in the incident. She went home as well, just about the same time that you did. Since she was a popular seventh-year, rumors and speculation were rather common in the last month or so of school… and this, of course, is among the first publicized major massacres that the Prophet admits was committed by Death Eaters. There was some panic."

That did shock Remus a little bit, to tell the truth. Subconsciously, he had selfishly believed that the massacre had only affected him and his family, even though he knew that it was completely logical for another Hogwarts student to have been affected in a disaster with so many casualties. It was a little bit jarring to think about all the other people who had been affected… James and Sirius, he knew, had been shaken, but Remus had thought they'd been shaken for his own sake. He hadn't thought about the larger implications of a publicized Death Eater attack... and he certainly hadn't thought that anyone else had lost someone close in the massacre.

"You're not selfish," said Dumbledore.

"Were you… Legilimency…?"

"No. You're very easy to read, I'm afraid. You're not selfish for failing to consider the scope of a small-town massacre. Unfortunately, though, this attack does mean war—and not just the lead-up, which we've been experiencing for a while. Frequent attacks may be occurring from here on out, and students will not restrain themselves from discussing it. John Questus' popularity has increased tenfold now that the students are aware that he was one of the victims… however, I regret to inform you that your peers do not like him any more than they did two years ago."

Remus almost laughed. The word "victim" made him feel funny… Professor Questus, who was one of the best duellists in the world and was always so sure of himself, so snarky, so cool, so collected… a "victim" didn't sound right, even though Remus knew that there was no other word for it. "He always said that a war was brewing," remembered Remus.

"That he did. Unfortunately, he was entirely correct. At this point, after an entire town has been murdered, no one is denying it any longer… not even Madam Pomfrey."

Remus nodded. His throat felt a little thick, like it was coated in Hagrid's treacle fudge. "So, erm… my project."

"Ah, yes," said Dumbledore pleasantly. "A much more enjoyable topic, I am sure."

"Craff assigned us a project that we're to finish by O.W.L.s."

"Yes, I know all about that."

"I was thinking… well, I never know exactly what time I transform, nor do I know how bad the full moon is going to be… or what time I'll transform back… or what time symptoms start. I thought I might be able to predict that with arithmancy, though I'm not entirely sure if it's plausible. I have some questions, and I might need some help."

Dumbledore made a small humming noise. "Hm. That's a good idea."

"…Really?"

"There will be a few logistical issues, of course, but I think that it's a very good idea. Now, you realize that you are essentially doing four different projects?"

"I am?"

"Yes. Time symptoms start, time transforming, severity of the full moon, and time transforming back. That is four separate projects."

"Oh." Remus didn't know how he could possibly choose just one.

"Do them all," said Dumbledore, seemingly reading Remus' thoughts again, "and turn in the ones that you complete. Some of them will be harder than others... but yes, I do believe you could do them all. How do you plan to measure these things?"

"I would have to re-watch my full moon memories, unfortunately. Could we put a clock on the wall for my convenience? If it's high up enough, then I shouldn't be able to reach it."

"Hm," said Dumbledore again. "Yes, I think that is a very good plan, if you're up to it."

"It should be okay," said Remus, suddenly much more confident. "And if it works, then it could help the D.R.C.M.C. and the Aurors and… and the W.C.U.… and werewolves in general."

"Well, there is one problem in that the full moon effects may be partially individual-specific. Sometimes, the individual himself is a factor in itself that must be considered. It is entirely possible that the charts you create will only work for you."

"Oh," said Remus. He hadn't thought of that.

"But anything is possible, and it may be helpful even if it does only work for you."

"Yes," said Remus vehemently. "It will. I want to do it."

Dumbledore smiled and folded his hands in front of him. "I think I can help you with the clock, and I'll be happy to help you in any further way that I can. It is, after all, a marvelous idea. Very clever, Remus. I shall wait with bated breath for the results. But I do wonder… why not go to Professor Craff with these questions? Forgive me for saying so, but your plan had a few aspects that you had not considered, which tells me that you haven't yet asked for her input. She is your Arithmancy professor, not me."

"Ah… er, yeah, I did ask for her input, actually. But she didn't think it was possible… and I'm sort of… I mean, I don't think she wants me to… come to her with many questions." Remus sighed. "You already know, Professor. She doesn't like me."

Dumbledore frowned. "Funny. I thought I had resolved that little issue with her. I shall talk to her about it immediately. Was there an argument of any sort? Insults, thinly-veiled or otherwise?"

"James argued with her a bit—you know James. I tried to get him to stop, but there's no stopping him when he's riled up. To be completely honest, she's not that awful, and..." Remus stopped. He would have defended Craff any other day, but he remembered how she had insulted Professor Questus and gave up. He didn't like her at all anymore. "She… isn't that great," he finally confessed.

"I see," said Dumbledore. "I shall be having another chat with her, then."

"Nothing's going to help, sir. You can't change her mind."

"I changed John Questus' mind," said Dumbledore, smiling sadly. "Or rather, you did. But you're right. Some people are simply too determined to believe certain things, yes?"

"Yeah."

"Now, on to the next order of business…"

"There's another one?"

"Of course. I seem to have a distinct memory of you agreeing to tutor a first-year. I've put together a timetable for you—don't worry, I've already given it to the first-year as well, and it shouldn't be too overwhelming for either of you. Here you are."

Remus took the sheet of paper in surprise. "Thank you, sir."

"Of course. Is there anything else that you wanted to discuss with me?"

"No, sir."

"Wonderful. Many congratulations on getting that Bowtruckle to tolerate your presence. And Remus… your Arithmancy project idea is excellent. My guess is that you will readily succeed, and my guesses have always been rather good."

"Thank you, sir."

Remus left Dumbledore's office with a song in his heart once again, and this time it was playing at full volume.

He returned to the common room, where James was already sleeping. His head was resting on his folded arms, and his arms were resting on… a Muggle Studies book. James had fallen asleep while revising. James. James Potter?! Remus couldn't help laughing a bit.

Peter was sleeping, too, just opposite James, but Sirius was wide awake and staring at Remus with questions in his eyes.

"All right, Padfoot?" said Remus, packing away his things and changing into his pajamas.

"All right, Moony. Where were you?"

"Talking to Dumbledore."

"About what?"

"Er… a couple things, actually. My project, for one. And my tutoring. We also briefly discussed Professor Questus and what happened last summer."

Sirius crossed his arms and scowled. "You can talk to us, you know. We're your friends, and that's what we're here for."

"Oh." Remus hadn't expected that from Sirius, and he was touched. "But… Sirius. Somehow, I often get the impression that you... don't want to talk about me and my problems. You get bored and frustrated rather easily."

"I love hearing about your problems. Remember our club back in first year?"

Remus smiled. "Yeah. Our Tragic Backstory Club, we called it. We'd listen to each other complain, because Peter and James seemed to have perfect lives."

"Yeah. We used to talk a lot, before you got all busy with stuff. I don't mind hearing you talk about yourself... I just get sick of it sometimes. It's always about you and no one else. Friends are supposed to trade."

Remus felt a little ill. "Then… then do you have something you want to talk about?"

"Yeah," said Sirius, leaning back against the wall with a sigh. "Let's go to the common room. James is a light sleeper, and I'm pretty sure he's already awake."

"I absolutely am," James grumped from his bed.

Remus smiled and followed Sirius to the common room, where they found comfortable seats, and Sirius began talking almost immediately. "Look, Moony," he said seriously. "James has friends besides us."

"Yeah, that makes sense."

"He has Quidditch friends, he has friends with whom he eats meals sometimes... he even abandoned us at Hogsmeade last Saturday to eat lunch with someone else, remember?"

"Yeah, but it was only for a few minutes."

"James picks other people! Over me! Do you see what's happening? This is a disaster!"

"It's not a disaster," chuckled Remus, but he froze at the sight of Sirius' livid face.

"See? This is exactly what I'm talking about! Just because it's not a torturous transformation or ridiculous prejudice doesn't mean that it's not a problem! But just because you have it worse, you always write everyone off! I can see you doing it in your head, even if you don't say it out loud."

"I… I don't mean to," stammered Remus. "I just… Sirius, I only mean to say that James is a popular, interesting bloke. It makes sense that he wants to have a large circle of friends. He's just that kind of person."

"But I want to be his only friend. He's my only friend."

"I'm your friend."

"Well, obviously. You're my mate, too. But you and Peter… I mean, James… you're all different."

Remus nodded. "I get it. You and James are best mates, and that's fine. I'm sure James feels the same way. He likes everyone else, sure… but you're his only best mate."

Sirius nodded slowly. "That makes sense," he said.

"Go find yourself some more friends, Sirius—you're certainly popular enough. Then you'll have something to do when I'm at tutoring, James is in Muggle Studies and Divination, and Peter is revising…"

"Or writing to Pensley," grumbled Sirius. "He's insufferable these days. Won't shut up about his stupid poetry book he's writing."

Remus laughed to mask the bitterness that he was sure would be in his voice if he started speaking right away. "It's nice, having someone to write letters to," he said.

"And… what do you mean, tutoring?"

"Oh!" said Remus. "I forgot to tell you! Dumbledore asked me to tutor a younger student. He gave me a timetable and everything. It'll look good on a job application, he says. See, I have… er, Miles. Miles Rosenblum. D'you suppose it's the same Miles that we saw on the train?" Remus thought of the mysterious Miles and his pet toad. "I'm pretty sure he's afraid of me."

"Well, now you can find out why," said Sirius, who looked grumpy again. "You mean to say that you're abandoning me while James is at Muggle Studies? You're leaving me with Peter?"

"No," said Remus defensively. He was not going to give up tutoring, even for Sirius. He was very excited about it. "No, I'm leaving you to make new friends. Find a couple mates that you can spend time with when James and I are gone... or you can do things with Peter. You're a bit snappish with him sometimes, between the two of us."

"Rich of you to call me snappish," muttered Sirius, and Remus laughed. "Fine. I'll try to find another friend." There was a long silence, and then, "Thanks, Moony."

"No problem, Padfoot."

"So... now it's your turn to complain. Doesn't it annoy you sometimes, the fact that you only have the three of us?"

"No. I never thought I'd have friends to begin with, so you three exceeded my expectations by miles."

"Oh," said Sirius.

"I do often worry that you'll abandon me."

"We won't," said Sirius. "Trust me. James can't stop talking about you and your problems."

"Comforting to know that my only friends pity me," said Remus acidly.

"Well, sometimes you act like that's exactly what you want."

"I'm working on it." Another pause, and then, "Thanks, Padfoot."

"No problem, Moony."

Tensions fell a bit after that, and Remus thought that maybe it was okay to argue with his friends every once in a while.

AN: I highly recommend Postmodern Jukebox's "Jazz Variations on the Harry Potter Theme"!