Remus was snoozing quietly in his bed, and it was wonderfully comfortable. The pillow was cool, but the blankets were warm, and the pink blanket was draped over Remus in a comforting sort of way. It was still the scratchiest blanket that Remus had ever owned, but he had come to appreciate the scratchiness, as one appreciated broccoli in the middle of a famine.

He hadn't had any nightmares recently, and his friends had even taken a break in their project—whatever it was—to play Exploding Snap with him. They'd had Duelling Club the day before, and Remus had won every single duel. Indeed, Remus had healed from the full moon rather quickly, and he was feeling pretty well right about now. Everything was great, and Remus was very comfortable...

...until he realized that Sirius was standing directly next to his bed, staring at him.

Remus flinched in surprise, and then he groaned as the panic drained out of his body. "Sirius. I'd like to sleep. Please."

"You can't! The train leaves in ten minutes!"

"The train?"

"Home! For the holidays! And I'm staying at James'!" Sirius let out a mighty whoop and started bouncing on Remus' bed. "Come on, Moony! Hurry up! James promised to buy us infinite sweets on the train, so we don't need breakfast, but you'll feel pretty silly if you don't at least get changed out of your pajamas."

"Fine, fine," said Remus. He was grumbling, but he was so excited to go home that his heart was going to beat out of his chest. "Avert your eyes, please."

"No one cares about your scars," called James. "You've been changing out here since second year, mate."

"It's not because of the scars. It's because it's weird when you lot stare directly at me when I change. At least pretend like you're interested in something else."

"Point taken," said James, and then he immediately started reading one of Remus' mum's letters aloud in a funny voice. "Dear Remus, I'm so glad to hear that the last full moon went well, but you still need to be careful, dear… make sure your friends know that you shouldn't be overexerting yourself, even when on the train… and you need to take a two-hour nap when you get home; I shall settle for nothing less…."

"Give me that," said Remus, who had changed out of his pajamas at lightning speed. He snatched the letter from James and stuffed it in his trunk. "You're insufferable."

"And proud of it!"

Remus loved riding the train.

He and his friends were currently throwing a Chocolate Frog around the compartment. Bufo was croaking on Remus' shoulder, as if he was protesting the abuse of a fellow amphibious creature. Sirius was laughing, James was shouting, and the window was open, adding another level of perilousness to their game. The wind whipped around the compartment, tousling their hair and making James look even more wild than he already had.

The compartment door opened, and Sirius failed to catch the Frog. It flew out the window with a small squeak.

Snape was standing at the door, absolutely furious. He held out his wand and pointed it at James, who raised his eyebrows and grinned. "I don't know what you're looking so smug about, Potter," Snape hissed. "I warned you that if you laid another hand on Lily, I'd hex you within an inch of your life."

"When did you do that?" asked Remus, surprised. It had been an honest question, but Snape's lips curled: he thought that Remus was taunting him.

"Don't think I haven't noticed that you're mysteriously missing every time your friends have a go at me," he said. "Behind the scenes, are you? Keeping their image of Gryffindor golden boys. You're going for Prefect, aren't you? All part of the plan, I see. You'll have the power, and you'll all lord it over me cruelly."

"What? No." Remus glared at Sirius and James, who shrugged. "You've been hexing Snape behind my back?" he asked furiously.

"Still trying to keep up the act?" said Snape. "It's too late, Lupin. You can't fool me. You four are always working together." Snape's wand flicked from James to Sirius and back again. James was still grinning; he didn't even pull out his wand to defend himself. Remus wondered where this confidence had come from.

"You know," Snape spat, "they tell you to go to a teacher if you're having a problem like this. If four popular Gryffindor boys are ganging up on you, jumping at you from behind corners, hexing you, teasing you... but that would be admitting weakness, so I've never done anything of the sort. It wasn't until you snuck lizards into the girls' dormitory—on Lily's bed—that I went to do anything about it."

"They didn't do it," said Remus immediately. He was certain that he'd've seen a bunch of lizards in the dormitory, and besides, his friends couldn't even get into the girls' dormitory. Could they?

But then he saw James' smug expression and realized that they had, somehow. They must have done it while Remus was in the Hospital Wing. How?

Remus looked back at Snape, who was shooting a very nasty look at Remus. "Sorry," Remus muttered.

"Don't apologize. We both know it's a farce." Snape's face was turning a very unpleasant shade of puce. "Anyway, I went to Professor Slughorn. He's my Head of House; he's supposed to help me. And I said that Lupin and his friends were tormenting Lily and me."

"Why Remus?" said Peter quietly. "He wasn't even there all week."

"Shut up!" shouted Snape explosively, and Peter flinched. "That's exactly why I said it! The rest of you were in class, but Lupin—Lupin could have done it. He was probably pretending to 'visit his ill mother' while all the while he was sneaking around, sabotaging the Slytherin dormitories…."

"Lily's in Gryffindor," said James.

"You shut up too, Potter!" Snape's face continued to turn red, and now his lips were quivering as if he was holding back a steady stream of swear words. Remus was afraid in spite of himself. "I told Professor Slughorn, and do you know—what—he—did?" Snape punctuated each word with a sharp jab of his wand toward James' face. "He laughed at me. Said that you wouldn't do that. Said that Lupin was too nice to do something like that. Said that you four were too talented to bother with such things."

"We are pretty talented," said Sirius.

"Shut up!"

"I wonder why people say that," said James conversationally. "Shut up, I mean. Wouldn't it suffice just to say 'shut'? Maybe it would be preferable if I shut down, actually, like electro-nicks do sometimes. I learned that in Muggle Studies," he informed Snape, the smug smile growing wider.

Snape ignored James completely, which was fair. James was being stupid. Even Remus thought so, and James was one of his best friends. "If the teachers weren't going to help, I was going to take things into my own hands," continued Snape. "So when you tried to turn Lily's hair to spiders…"

"She was annoying us," said Sirius with a shrug.

"…I came here. No teachers to help you now, Potter. Do you see any teachers? I don't."

"I'm sure we can talk about this," said Remus desperately.

"Absolutely not," said Snape. He set his jaw, inhaled sharply, spoke an unfamiliar incantation… and, before Remus had even had time to think, he'd pulled out his own wand and blocked the spell nonverbally.

His friends looked at him in astonishment, and Remus looked at his own wand in astonishment. Then he slowly looked up at Snape, who looked a bit like a feral bat.

"Er," said Remus. "I'm not trying to turn this into a duel or anything, but it's not fair to hex unarmed people, especially when there's no Hospital Wing nearby to help if they happen to get injured. That was... defensive, not offensive."

"Would you look at that. Remus Lupin, star of the Duelling Club. So sorry I didn't bow first," hissed Snape, and then he shot a nonverbal curse at Remus.

Remus blocked it again. "Seriously, Snape, we needn't fight. I'm sure my friends will stop hexing you after this."

"Your friends? You still refuse to take responsibility for your actions? That's rich." Snape scowled and cast another hex.

Remus blocked that one, too. He was very lucky that Professor Questus had trained him so well in terms of blocking unfriendly attacks. Well, with Questus, Remus supposed that they had been friendly attacks, but the point still stood. "Severus, I'm not…"

"We are not on first-name terms, and I'm sick and tired of your stupid good-boy act."

Snape continued to cast spells furiously, and Remus was finding it harder and harder to block them. He could think of at least four ways to disarm Snape, if only he could work up the courage to cast an offensive spell… but no. That would be fighting, and Remus didn't want to fight. He was a werewolf; he didn't have the luxury to break the rules like that. If Snape were to complain to the Ministry about the violent, dangerous werewolf, then Remus' life would be over (probably literally). Remus would continue to cast shields until someone came to rescue them, preferably a teacher.

Unfortunately, it was not a teacher. Remus' rescue came in the form of James and Sirius, who cast a dual Stupefy and sent Snape directly through the open door and crashing against the floor of the corridor.

"That wasn't fair," said Remus. "It was three against one!" Then he dashed into the corridor towards Snape, who seemed to be unconscious. "James! Sirius! Go get someone to help!"

"Why?" said James. "It's what he wanted to do to us. Someone'll find him eventually."

"You don't know that!" Remus heard Snape's heartbeat, and that was comforting—what if his friends had killed someone? And he'd taken part? It was a terrible thought, too terrible to ruminate on properly.

"He's fine," said Sirius dismissively.

Suddenly, Lily Evans came skidding down the corridor. "What did you do?" she shrieked at Remus.

"Wait a second. He didn't do anything," said James. "He's trying to help, so don't bite his head off. No, that was Sirius and me."

She turned on them, her face blazing. "What did you do?" she repeated, even more loudly than before. Her screechy voice made Remus' sensitive ears hurt a bit, but he didn't complain. She had a right to be as screechy as she wanted in this particular situation.

"Snape wanted to fight us. We fought back in self-defense," said Sirius. "It was his fault, really."

Evans opened her mouth to retort, but then closed it, apparently deciding against it. "That does sound like something he would do," she said. "But still! You didn't have to blast him into the corridor! And it was four against one, you gits!"

"Three against one, actually," said James. "Peter didn't do a thing. Sat there like a useless lump."

"You didn't need my help," said Peter timidly.

James nodded in agreement. "And Remus was only playing defense. Besides. Did you expect us to cater to his silly urges and do a formal duel? Did you expect us to let him win? What were we meant to do? We only wanted to have a pleasant ride home, Evans."

Evans shot James a Look, and being in the mere general vicinity of the Look nearly made Remus cry. He didn't understand how James could possibly be enduring the full brunt of it.

"Is he okay?" Evans asked Remus, who was still on his knees next to Snape.

"Er, yeah," said Remus. "I think. He doesn't… I mean, he's breathing. And there's no blood. His finger got bent backwards when he landed, and it's sort of swollen, but…" Remus knew far too much about medical care. "It's not broken," he said. He knew what broken fingers typically looked like. "I've some Pain-Relieving Potion in my bag, Evans. You can give some to him when he wakes up—I don't think he'll take it from me."

He handed her the bottle that Madam Pomfrey had made him pack, and she took it. "How do you know there's no blood?" she asked. "There might be. Maybe you just can't see it."

Remus, who was very familiar with the scent of blood, was pretty certain that there was none. But Evans couldn't know that. "Maybe," he allowed.

"We should get a teacher."

"Yeah, we should. I could get one, if you'd like…."

Unfortunately, Snape chose that moment to wake up. He stared at Remus, who was kneeling beside him, and sat up. Then he shoved Remus hard.

It was a well-known fact that Remus Lupin did not weigh much, so he promptly toppled over and hit his head against the wall. All of a sudden, James and Sirius were propelling themselves at Snape, shouting, and Snape was shouting back, and Evans was shouting, too….

Remus stood up, trying to decide what to do. Should he help Snape, who was probably still very sore? Should he shout with them? Ask them all to stop? Ask his friends to calm down? Sit and wait? Get a teacher?

After a moment's thought, he went to sit with Basil and Valencia. His friends would work it out on their own, wouldn't they? They didn't need Remus' help, and his head was starting to hurt from all the noise.

Remus hated riding the train.

Remus quickly bade goodbye to Basil and Valencia and dashed off the train as quickly as his legs could carry him. "Dad!" he called.

And there Remus' father was, standing in a secluded corner with a big smile on his face. "Remus!"

Remus hugged his father fiercely and pointed towards the train. "I have to go get my things," he said breathlessly, and then he ran to the train, grabbed his trunk, and ran back. "There," he panted. "Now I'm ready. Is Mum at home?"

"She sure is," said his father fondly, ruffling his hair. "Do you want to say goodbye to anyone?"

Remus glanced over at James, Sirius, and Peter, who were walking off the train with huge grins on their faces. "Yeah," he said, and then he dashed over to his friends (even though he was breathing heavily at this point from all the running around. Remus wasn't much of a runner).

"Hi," he said. "Just wanted to say goodbye."

"You're not angry with us?" said Peter.

"Er… no. No, I'm not. I just needed some time away. Arguing stresses me out."

"What a china doll," scoffed Sirius, but he was looking a bit guilty. "Well… erm, enjoy your summer."

"We'll have to meet up sometime," said Remus. Then a sly smile spread across his face as he said, "After I find the secret passage in my room, that is."

"There is NO SECRET PASSAGE!" roared Sirius, and Remus ran off, laughing. Then he grasped his father's arm, and they Apparated home.

Remus loved his friends, but sometimes he just needed a break from the drama.

It was six o'clock, and Remus was cooking dinner with his father. Usually, his mother did the cooking, but Remus had been informed that she was often too tired after wrangling small children all day for her new job. Remus' father had taken up a few small household chores, and they'd been sharing the load. It was a bit strange, really—Remus was so used to seeing his mum as a full-time homemaker that seeing his father do actual chores regularly was downright weird.

"Remus, pass me that knife."

Remus took a break from peeling potatoes to hand his father a knife. "What time is Mum coming home?"

"She should have been home a while ago. Traffic is probably held up."

"I thought you were Apparating her there and back."

"I was, but she was insistent on driving today."

"Why?"

Remus' father sighed and put down the knife. "She needs some time to herself."

"I thought she would have been excited to come home and see me."

"She is, Remus. I'm sure she is. But she's…." He sighed again. "She's not doing very well at the moment."

"She's not?"

"You have to understand that she's a Muggle. We've been conditioned to accept the supernatural all our lives, but for her… it's frightening. Supernatural entities controlling the universe, her town, her son…? She can't do magic herself, so it's right terrifying for her."

"Oh," said Remus. He finished peeling a potato and tossed it in a bowl. "Has she been like that the whole time?"

"Comes and goes. And it's not too bad… she's just a bit stressed sometimes. A world of magic is a bleak, scary, and dangerous place when she can't use it to defend herself. Not to mention she's only ever seen the darker side of it—she's never attended Hogwarts, played Exploding Snap, or played Quidditch. She's only ever seen the effects of Fiendfyre… werewolves… Boggarts. She's downright afraid of magic somewhere deep down, I think, and the impending war is scaring her a bit." He patted Remus' back and smiled. "She's be fine, though. Why don't you go wash your hands and set the table? I'll finish the rest of supper."

Remus did, and all the while, he could not stop thinking about how he probably shouldn't tell his mother that there was a possible secret passageway in his room.

Remus' mother arrived just in time for supper. "I'm home!" she said cheerfully, hanging up her coat and hat. "Remus! Are you here?!"

Remus dashed to the doorway and hugged his mother tightly. "I've missed you," he said.

"I've missed you too, honey."

"Do you want to hear about Hogwarts?" he asked, dying to tell her all about it… but, at the same time, wondering if she even wanted to hear.

"Of course I do," she said with a warm smile, and then they talked all throughout supper: about Duelling Club, about Remus' friends, about Professor Dilley, about Max and Francine, about Professor Kettleburn, and about magic.

The only things they didn't talk about, it seemed, were Professor Craff's death and Ragfarn's surprise visit. Remus didn't think it necessary to mention those.

"So, Remus," said Remus' father as they were cleaning up supper, "We should talk about who you're going to stay with when we're gone. Madam Pomfrey offered to..."

"Yeah, she told me. You know, I could stay home. I'll probably be okay. Last time was a special case, obviously, and—"

Remus was cut off by a plate clattering to the floor. He looked over at his mother, whose hands were shaking nearly imperceptibly. "Heavens," she exclaimed. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to drop that."

"It's okay."

"It's just..." Remus' mother sighed as she swept the broken pieces into the bin. "I don't think that's a good idea, dear."

Oh, so Remus himself wasn't the problem with staying home alone. His mother was. Never mind; Remus could respect that.

"May I write to my friends?" he asked. "I know Sirius and Peter are staying with James, so maybe I could, too."

"I wouldn't feel quite comfortable with you staying at the Potters'." Remus' mother was still trembling slightly. "I'd much rather you stay with an adult who knows about you already. You… you never know what will happen."

Remus nodded. The unspoken possibilities hung in the air, ready to fly away like a flock of confused bats.

"But Madam Pomfrey lives with her sister, and Madam Pomfrey's sister doesn't know about me," said Remus.

"Yes, love, but we trust Madam Pomfrey."

"And we don't trust the Potters?"

"We've hardly met the Potters!"

"What if we compromise?" said Remus' father cheerfully. "Remus' friends can come here, and they can stay home together until we come back. I hear your friends are very talented at magic, Remus—and so are you, based on what you've told us of Duelling Club—so I'm sure the four of you will be just fine."

"But they're children," Remus' mother insisted.

"Exactly. They're children, not moving targets nor porcelain dolls." Remus' father looked at his wife with a scrutinizing, searching gaze. "Remus will stay with Madam Pomfrey some days," he allowed, "and we'll be home some days. But we're on Christmas holidays. He deserves to have a little fun with his friends, doesn't he? If only for one day?"

Remus' mother sighed. "I suppose," she said.

Remus heard his parents talking that night. In the new house, he was even closer to the sitting room than he had been, for this house was only one story. Remus could hear everything, and his parents knew it.

Well, actually, they didn't. Not right now, because they thought that Remus was asleep.

He wasn't.

"We can't suffocate him," said Remus' father. "He's growing up. He'll be fourteen in March. Fourteen! That's three years away from being of age."

"It's been nine years," Remus' mother mourned, and no one had to ask what she meant by that.

There was silence.

Then Remus' father replied, "He's a talented wizard. He can do nonverbal magic, and he's only in second year. He's getting fantastic marks. He's taking three electives and excelling in each one, and I imagine he's read half the Hogwarts library by now."

"John Questus was a talented wizard. John Questus could do nonverbal magic. John Questus got fantastic marks and took three electives—actually, he took four, remember? He also read half the Hogwarts library… and look what all that did for him!"

"It couldn't have been prevented."

"Exactly!"

"Being there for Remus won't prevent something like that from happening, as I'm sure you very well remember from nearly nine years ago."

Remus' parents voices were getting colder, and Remus could sense an honest-to-goodness argument coming on. His parents rarely argued, but it was terrifying every time.

"You took him to St. Mungo's, Lyall! If we hadn't been there, if we hadn't taken him to hospital, he'd've died… if something like that happens again, he will die!"

"Nothing like that could possibly happen again! It's literally impossible! Besides, we took the Knight Bus that day, remember? Remus knows how to use the Knight Bus."

"It's not about saving his life! Well, it is, but it's also about being there for him… because we can't do that very often! We can't be there for him when he's in the cellar, we weren't there when he was bitten, we can't be there on the days before and after full moons anymore, and I want to be there for him if something else horrible happens!"

"I daresay he's used to going it alone, just like he does every month! He'll be fine!"

"No, he won't!"

"Hope, listen to me," said Remus' father gently, and Remus' mother fell silent. "We can't stop this war, and being at home all the time to watch our perfectly-capable son will not help. I need to be at the Ministry keeping Boggarts under control, and you need to be at the daycare watching children who need help far more than Remus does."

"I know, but…"

"Let his friends come over."

"But…"

"You remember how large of a risk it was to send Remus, a young werewolf in the middle of the war, to Hogwarts? You remember that, yes?"

"…Yes."

"And you know that's been good for him. Let him live, Hope. We aren't doing him any favors by suffocating him."

Remus' mother sighed. "Of course, Lyall. You're right. I'll… I'll write to the Potters."

"No, I will," said Remus' father. "You should get some sleep. Remember that we have all weekend with Remus. Enjoy it, and try not to worry too much."

"Right."

"I love you, Hope."

"Love you, too."

The sheets rustled as Remus brought the blankets to his chin. He lay in bed for the next hour, staring at the ceiling and unable to sleep, feeling irrationally guilty for existing.