"So what you you rate it?" Remus mumbled, half-asleep, as Madam Pomfrey bandaged his right hand. "For my Arithmancy project. How bad was it, out of five?"

"A three. You'll be out day after tomorrow."

"Oh," said Remus. "I picked a two."

"I have a feeling that your number will always be lower than mine."

"And I'm the right one," said Remus sleepily. "I'm going to sleep now. Wake me up if my friends get here."

"No. You need your rest."

"I don't."

"Yes, you do. Now sleep."

Remus rolled over and yawned. He was asleep in two minutes.

Fortunately (or unfortunately), he woke up just as his friends knocked on the door to the main ward. He heard Madam Pomfrey greet them. "You'll have to come back later," she said. "He happens to be sleeping at the moment, and..."

"No, I'm not," said Remus loudly.

There was a pause.

"I suppose he's not sleeping," she said. "Come in, then."

Remus sat up (with some difficulty) and crossed his arms. His friends had been so close to the Shrieking Shack on the night of the full moon, knowing full well that Remus did not want them there, and Remus was still angry. He dreaded the confrontation, but was vaguely excited for it at the same time—because, although he hated being angry, he wanted to be angry right now. He wanted to shout at them and make them feel sorry for themselves. They had done something terrible.

No. Those weren't good feelings. In through his nose. Out through his mouth...

James came in first, and he was holding some sort of cake. "Look what we made for you!" he said. "It's a cake! It's banana-flavored."

The cake was, indeed, a violent shade of yellow. It was barely a cake at all—it looked more like pudding. It sagged so much that it was nearly falling off of the plate that contained it. James was trying to push up the sides: the cake seemed to be some sort of rubbery contraption, a little bit like gelatin... and, to top it all off, a browned banana peel was resting on the surface. Remus couldn't help it. Despite his anger, he started to laugh.

"What in the name of Merlin is that thing?" he giggled. "That's not a cake! That's a monster!"

"Oi," said James. "Monster isn't a very nice word. You should know that."

Remus laughed harder. "If I looked like that, then I'd let people call me a monster all they wanted. Holy mackerel. That thing is so incredibly ugly."

"It has a name, you know," sniffed Sirius.

"It has a name?!"

"Yeah. Charlie. Good name, eh?"

Remus' sides hurt, but he kept laughing. "No! That's not a good name at all! You should not name a cake! Why… why did you make a cake?"

"Well," said James, "basically, we figured that, since you stay up all night one night a month, then we should get to do the same."

"We also wanted to practice for the future," added Sirius.

"Practice… for the… you stayed up all night?!" Remus stopped laughing immediately. "What do you mean, practice for the future? And why…? Huh?"

"We wanted to stay up all night like you, so we made a cake," Peter summarized.

"Well, that's very…" Remus wasn't sure whether to be touched or indignant. He decided on a mixture of the two. "It's not a fun thing, staying up all night to transform into a… a murderous beast."

"We know. That's why we wanted to do it with you."

"Well, not the murderous beast part—"

"—but in general—"

"—really, it was just intended to be a sort of solidarity. And now you have a cake. It's perfect! Besides, Prongs wrote to your mum."

"Yeah. She was really nice. We asked if there was anything that we could do to help—"

"—about what you did at home, mostly—"

"—and she said that she made soup while you were in the cellar so that you'd have something to eat when you transformed back."

"But then we thought—"

"Soup is absolutely disgusting."

"Yeah. We're not fans of soup. So we made a cake."

"We tried to remember how you did it in first year when we were baking a cake for Wormtail, but Prongs wasn't paying attention, and we all know that he's the one with the memory—"

"—so it didn't really work. But it'll taste good, anyhow."

Remus pressed his lips together. "Okay," he said, "there's a lot to unpack there. Er… I don't really want you losing sleep over my condition. Wormtail looks as if he's about to collapse from exhaustion." And Peter was, indeed, swaying slightly on his feet. There were large bags under his eyes. James was more hyper than ever, and Sirius, from the looks of it, was going to be very grumpy later.

"We'll be fine!" said James. "You always are, after all. Eventually."

"But… I stay in the Hospital Wing for two full days after the full moon, and I'm sleeping nearly every second that you're not here."

"Oh, shut up, Moony. I brought a knife, and we're going to cut and eat this cake."

Remus turned to Peter. "You let him bring a knife? You let James Potter pick up a knife? Oh, we're all going to die."

"Shut up," repeated James, chuckling. "You'll get the biggest piece, of course, since you didn't eat at all yesterday. And you can have the banana peel, too."

"Why is there a banana peel on the cake?"

"Added flavor."

"Typically, when one adds flavor, one adds good flavors."

"Oh, be quiet and eat your cake. We made it just for you, you know."

Remus watched James cut him a piece of cake (it was jiggling. Why was it jiggling?). He took the plate with the cake on it and then took a bite while the other Marauders watched eagerly.

"Wow," he said. "This cake…"

"Yes?" said James.

"This cake…"

"Yes?" said Sirius.

"This cake is…"

"Yes?" said Peter.

"Disgusting," finished Remus. "It tastes like banana peels and tea. Did you put tea in the cake? Why would you put tea in the cake?"

"Because you like tea."

"There are vegetables in the cake!"

"You like vegetables."

Remus laughed. "I don't know what to say."

"A 'thank you' would be nice."

"I'm not thanking you for that cake. It's a monstrosity." Despite his words, Remus took another bite. "I just… oh, fiddlesticks, this is disgusting. But I can't stop eating it. I just can't believe how bad it is."

"Finger-licking good," said Peter solemnly.

"No, it's really not," said Remus. "You lot need to taste it, too. I shan't suffer alone."

The next twenty minutes were spent laughing about how utterly awful the cake was. Even Sirius didn't like it, and he was used to "Pureblood delicacies" (his own words). "I once had to eat a raven eye with an completely straight face," he said, "but I can't eat this with a straight face. It's horrible. Where did we go wrong?"

"You can't just add things that taste good on their own and then hope that they'll taste good together."

"But why not? If they taste good apart, then why wouldn't they taste good together?"

"They just don't!"

James took another bite of the cake and grimaced. "Talking of tasting things," he said, "you have a really good sense of taste, right, Remus?"

"Er, yeah."

"So let's play a game. Let's see how many things you can guess that we put into the cake."

Remus groaned. He usually didn't like showing off his superior senses for any reason whatsoever. But hey… it could be fun. He took another bite and tried not to gag. "Tea," he said. "Lots of it. And… asparagus, I think. And broccoli. And carrots. And… lettuce?" Remus pulled a lettuce leaf out of his mouth that had gotten stuck in his teeth. "Gross."

"Anything else?" asked Peter.

"Chocolate Frogs. Bertie Bott's. Er… parchment?"

"We thought it would add to the taste," said Sirius, shrugging.

"Eggs, but there's still shell in it. I think there's an apple." Remus took another bite. "Cheese. Bread, I think. Lemon? Or lime, I can't tell. And… lots and lots of bananas."

"It was a lemon, not a lime," said Peter, "and there are four bananas."

"Seriously? Did you expect me to eat the peel?" Remus picked up the peel and tossed it at James. "You couldn't have honestly thought that I would eat it."

"Who knows how different the werewolf's diet is from our own," said James sagely. "There's one last big secret ingredient."

Remus sighed and took another bite. "This can't be good for me," he murmured. "Er… I think it's… oh, I know what it is."

"What is it?" asked Peter. "I can't remember."

"Where did you get this? Did you sneak out to Hogsmeade?" Remus thought about that. "Oh, right. We're third years. We don't need to sneak out to Hogsmeade anymore. It's Butterbeer, Wormtail. He put Butterbeer in a cake... and it's actually the least questionable ingredient in there. A Butterbeer cake might actually be nice. We should make one sometime—for real."

"I think that the Butterbeer compliments the bananas nicely," said Sirius seriously, taking another bite and holding back gags admirably.

"The texture could be better, but the eggshells add a sort of zing," said James.

"Overall," said Peter, "I would rate it a…"

"Negative four out of ten," deadpanned Remus. "Okay, get it out. It's bothering my nose."

Remus' friends took the cake out of the Hospital Wing, giggling all the while, and Remus could no longer remember why he'd been angry with them. They'd stayed up all night to bake him a cake. Of course they were good friends. And they hadn't even sneaked out to Hogsmeade to do it...

Oh, wait. They had sneaked out to Hogsmeade, though not for the Butterbeer.

That's why Remus had been angry with them.

When his friends came back into the Hospital Wing, Remus was ready. "So. Why were you in Hogsmeade last night?" he asked, adopting a mock-pleasant tone of voice.

There was a moment of silence. Sirius and James looked at each other, and they almost looked guilty. "Er, Moony… haha. We weren't in Hogsmeade. Of course we weren't."

"Please don't lie to me. I was there. I was literally a wall away, and I could hear you."

James looked shocked for a second. "Did you hear what we were saying?"

"Er… no. I was a wolf at the time. Didn't understand English. Or didn't care to, at least."

"But you remember everything?"

"Yeah."

"Oh," said James. "I thought… I mean, you've mentioned it before, but I thought it was just… hazy, if at all. I thought you were exaggerating."

"I'm not exaggerating," said Remus. His calm demeanor was slipping. "Why would I exaggerate? It is me on the full moon, James. Me, okay? Remus Lupin. Memories carry over perfectly fine. I remember what I heard, and it was you three, traipsing around the Shrieking Shack like there wasn't a dangerous werewolf inside… did you hike all the way down there? That's so dangerous!"

"Calm down, Moony," said Sirius. "We were careful."

"I—don't—care! Why would you have to be there?"

"Research. Our project."

"You're researching me? Why would you be researching me? I don't want you down there! Please stay inside the castle on full moons, okay? That's the only time—the only time!—that it's important to do so. Never leave the castle on a full moon again. All right?"

"Fine, Mr. Prefect Moony," said James, rolling his eyes.

"What were you even researching? If it involved me, then I deserve to know."

Peter looked at the sky and twiddled his thumbs. "Didn't involve you at all. We were researching... buildings."

"Buildings?"

"Yeah. And the Shrieking Shack is a building, so we have to research it."

Remus shook his head slowly. "Look, I really need you lot to understand that I am dangerous on the full moon. I would murder you all without a second thought. I was thinking about it when you were walking around the Shrieking Shack, even. My morals totally disappear, and I was hoping that you would come in so that I could—" Remus drew a shuddery breath and started over. "You are not to come anywhere near me. Stay in the castle. Even better—don't break curfew on full moon nights. Only full moon nights. That's all I ask. Please."

Remus was quivering a little bit now (though he couldn't think why). He wiped his eyes with the pink blanket. "I'm not joking," he said. He figured he'd gotten his point across, but he wanted to keep going. After all, he'd thought that he'd gotten his point across months and months ago, but apparently he hadn't. "I'm not joking," he repeated, "not about this. This isn't a game. It's not… you're not only putting yourselves in danger. If I killed you, then it would absolutely destroy me… and I'd be executed… my parents would be miserable… and Dumbledore might get sacked… and then maybe Death Eaters would take over the school or something. Please, please, please."

"I understand," said James, placing a hand on Remus' knee awkwardly. "Now, about that cake…"

"No," interrupted Remus. He swatted James' hand away. "You have to swear on it. Do… Marauder's Honor or whatever."

James pursed his lips. He took the Marauders far too seriously, so he'd never break that. Besides, he was the ringleader—Remus knew that, if James promised, then Sirius and Peter would follow.

"Well, Marauder's Honor is a really strong phrase, mate," said James lightly. "I wouldn't solemnly swear anything like that."

"Do it."

"You never know what might happen."

"Do it."

"What exactly am I promising?"

"That you won't ever sneak out after dark on the night of a full moon."

"Hm," said James. "Tricky. Not many loopholes there."

"And why would you need a loophole?"

"Well, what if there's a mass murderer in the school and we have to go outside? What if there's a fire? We wouldn't be going inside the Shrieking Shack; only protecting ourselves from harm."

"Fine. Promise that you'll never sneak out after dark on the night of a full moon unless doing so will save your life."

"But what if they find a cure for lycanthropy and you're not a werewolf anymore? There's no reason to stay inside if you're not a werewolf."

"They won't find a cure for lycanthropy."

"They might."

"They won't."

"What if they do?"

"They won't, James."

"May I propose a revision?"

Remus let out a long-suffering sigh. "Fine."

"I, James Potter, solemnly swear—Marauder's Honor—that I shall never sneak near the Shrieking Shack on a full moon unless doing so will save my life… or unless Remus John Lupin gives us express permission."

"What?" said Remus. "I'll never give you permission."

"But you might."

"I won't."

"Remus, you never know. You never thought you'd be going to Hogwarts, yet here you are. You never thought you'd have friends, yet here we are. You never thought we'd accept you, yet… here we are. You're wrong sometimes, mate."

Remus rolled his eyes, but he figured he'd humor James. After all, he'd never, ever, ever give his permission. "One more thing," he said, trying to eliminate any loopholes. "The 'permission' that you speak of cannot be given against my own, perfectly-sane, not-drunk-or-drugged-or-Imperiused-or-whatever, not-accidental free will. Got it?"

"Who do you think we are?" asked James, wrinkling his nose. "But fine. Marauder's Honor."

"Marauder's Honor," chorused James and Peter.

"It'll never happen again," said Sirius.

"Never, ever," affirmed Peter.

"Not in a billion years," said James.

"Good," said Remus. "I just don't want you lot to get hurt, no matter how bent you are on being totally self-destructive."

"Says the werewolf who just clawed himself nearly to death last night," said James, clapping Remus on the back.

Remus winced, surprised, but laughed all the same. "Fair point, Prongs."

November 11, 1973

Professor Craff says that the golden rule of Arithmancy is Write Everything Down, so I'm writing down how I feel. I already wrote down all of my symptoms yesterday before the full moon, so I suppose this is the only thing left to document.

I'm fine. My throat hurts. I have the regular assortment of scratches and bruises. I ended up splitting my lip, so I'm going to have a fun time explaining that away. James wants me to say that I got blown up by a grenade. He's learning about grenades in Muggle Studies right now. He keeps asking me things like, "Hey, Remus, did you know that Muggles have these things called microwaves that heat up food?" and I keep answering, "Yes, James, I knew that. I've lived in Muggle homes for most of my life. I am part Muggle. I know," and then James always replies, "I just can't believe that you knew all this stuff and didn't tell us about any of it," and then I always reply, "Oh, boy, James, let me tell you about calculators," and he always listens with rapt attention.

He used to be so impatient with Muggle things in the past, but it appears as if he's really trying to be appreciative of the culture and technology behind it. Sirius still doesn't care. "Why don't they just heat it up?" he says. "Surely fires are good enough."

"That takes longer," I say.

"It's their own fault for not being magic," he says, and I think he's joking, but I hate hearing him say that nonetheless.

"My mum is brilliant," I say.

Then Sirius always looks a little sheepish and says, "Sorry, Moony, I keep forgetting. It's the way that I was brought up, you know? We made fun of them all the time over supper." Then he repeats "Muggles are just as good," over and over again in a whisper until I tell him that he's being annoying and he needs to stop.

He still doesn't really believe it, I don't think, but I suppose he's trying. Either that, or he's just trying to tease me. Either is plausible. One never can tell with Sirius.

But I've gotten off-topic. The point is, I'm doing very well. My head hurts. My feet hurt. I'm exhausted. But other than that, I'm all right. I didn't break a single bone, which is brilliant. They always get really weak right after a transformation, and sometimes wolf-Remus isn't quite careful enough.

I worry that the results are skewed because of my friends' impromptu visit, but there's nothing that I can do about that.

Madam Pomfrey says that I should be out day after tomorrow. I should write that down, too: this is a TWO-DAY Hospital Wing stay. I'll put that at the top for easy reference. Now, it SHOULD be a one-day Hospital Wing stay—I'll be fine by tomorrow—but Madam Pomfrey always insists on a little extra lie-in. I try to be grateful.

My friends are visiting this month. They didn't visit much last month, even though I was in the Hospital Wing for what seemed like FOREVER, but they've showed up during mealtimes and eaten lunch in here with me. In fact, they're in Madam Pomfrey's office with me right now. We've only just eaten dinner, and they all fell asleep right after. They're currently sleeping. Sirius is on the chair, and James and Peter are lying flat on their backs on the floor. Peter's snoring.

I still don't know why they wanted to stay up all night with me. It's sweet, I suppose, but it's also rather stupid and annoying.

I suspect they're still working on their "project" when they're not in here with me, though. I can't imagine what it could possibly be.

Oh, Peter's waking up now. I wasn't very productive, but I wrote down what I needed to, I think.

Signed,
R.J. Lupin

Remus woke up in the middle of the night when the Pain-Relieving Potion wore off, but it wasn't that bad. He didn't even cry: he simply opened his eyes, greeted Madam Pomfrey, and then rolled over and went back to sleep.

The next morning, his friends came over before classes. They brought four helpings of breakfast, the Daily Prophet, and a few letters from Remus' parents. "Thanks," said Remus.

"No problem," said James.

There was a moment of silence while they ate.

"You know," said James, "I was thinking. Wondering, more like."

"Wondering about what?" asked Remus.

"About you. What cures have you tried? For the lycanthropy, I mean."

Remus laughed nervously and put down the bite of beans that he was about to take. "Some of them are rather gruesome," he warned. "Sirius, if you'd like to step out…"

"No," said Sirius. "Gotta get used to this. For the project."

"Your project is… about buildings… but also about gruesome topics?"

"Yes," said James. "Buildings can be ruthless. Come on, Moony, just tell us about some of them."

"All right," said Remus slowly. "Well, loads of them made me vomit rather violently. Some people tried exorcism…."

"What's that?" asked Peter.

"Like… a magical means of removing an evil spirit. People shouted at me and things. There were magical spells involved. And herbs or something. I was young, so I really don't remember much of it. Er… some made me drink weird potions. One of them was just vinegar. And then you all know the silver bullet thing."

"The what? Don't those kill werewolves?"

"Well… not exclusively. Potentially, yeah, but it wouldn't hurt any more than a normal bullet. But anyway, Mum and Dad met a bloke who said that a silver bullet would cure me, and that he could do it without killing me… so he shot me, right here on the arm."

"What's shooting?" said Sirius.

"Like a… like a wand, I guess… except instead of a spell, it's a small metal thing, and it goes really fast… and it went right into my arm. Right here. Well, it didn't stay there, it kinda went through…."

"What?" yelped Sirius. "Oh, gross!"

"Wasn't that bad. Just a graze, sort of—didn't even hit bone. They healed me right afterwards. Still… it didn't help anything. Oh, and I was also drugged… ended up pretty loopy at one point… and put into hot water that burned me all over… and people tried to hypnotize me… and lots of herbs and lotions. Seriously. Some of them gave me rashes."

"Was there anything that did help?" asked James. "Anything? Even if it only helped a little bit?"

"Nope."

"But… there has to be something. Even just something to make you less violent on the full moon. Did any of them have any sort of effect?"

"No."

"Even a little one?"

"Nope."

"Was there a super expensive one that you couldn't try because you didn't have the money? Because my family will help pay."

"No. Tried them all."

"But there must be a cure, right?"

"There is a cure, actually," said Remus.

James brightened immediately. "Really?" he said. "What is it? I'll get it for you, no matter what it is. I promise."

"Erm... no thanks. Death, James. That's the only cure."

"Oh." James deflated once more. "That's not fair."

"You're right. But it really is a cure. When I die, all my internal functions will slowly return to human—blood consistency, heightened senses, heart shape and all that—and I won't transform on full moons." Alexander Adamson had given a speech about this particular topic, and Remus rather liked the idea of it. "After about twenty-four hours, my body would be completely indistinguishable from a human one. That's kind of cool."

Sirius, who was looking rather green, did not seem to agree.

"That's not fair," said James again.

"Life isn't fair. But I'm fine. I don't need a cure anymore—not as much as I did. I still want one, of course, more than anything else in the world… but it's not as bad as it was, being a werewolf. At least I have friends."

"Yeah," said James. "Yeah, having friends nearby helps. More than you think." He glanced over at Sirius and Peter and winked.

"What was that wink?" said Remus, horrified. "What was that wink, James?"

"Nothing," said James, and he winked again. Then Remus' friends nearly skipped out of the Hospital Wing, leaving Remus to his thoughts.

He put in an Alexander Adamson record and tried to nap. He wouldn't think about it right now. After all, they had made a solemn promise that they wouldn't come find him on a full moon... so it couldn't be anything dangerous and related to the full moon, right?

Of course it wasn't.

It couldn't be.

AN: I'm thinking about changing the update schedule to Tuesday and Friday. Or not. Either way, I'll definitely keep getting out two a week :)