Christmas was quiet.

In the morning, Remus and his parents went to a Muggle shop and picked out gifts for each other (Remus' parents had given him thirty pounds to spend, and he'd picked a thermos for his father and a nice scarf for his mother). The best part was that they'd let him go off on his own to find a gift—they'd even let him pay for it all by himself so that Remus' gifts could remain a secret. He finished before them, and he waited on a bench by the door all by himself.

They were finally, finally making an honest attempt to be less overprotective, and Remus felt independent for the first time in ages. Life was good.

In the afternoon, Remus and his parents exchanged the gifts over dessert-for-lunch. Then they'd played a few card games. Remus entertained (or annoyed; he wasn't sure which) his parents with some more stories of Hogwarts. They were just about to have dessert-for-dinner when Remus' mother said the unthinkable.

"Hey, why don't we listen to one of those Adamson records Questus left us?"

Remus stared at her, eyes wide. "Do you know what's on those records?" he asked.

"Of course I do. We've listened to one before."

"You listened to the easy one. The rest are terribly gruesome."

"If you can handle it, I rather think I can, too."

"Let's try it," agreed Remus' father.

So they actually did it: they listened to an Adamson record (Remus had purposefully chosen one that wasn't too bad. It was about werewolf execution methods—which probably fit the definition of "bad", but at least it was something that Remus would probably never have to experience instead of something that he really did go through).

Remus' mother, just as Remus had assumed, could not get through it. She left about ten minutes in.

But they didn't let it ruin their evening. They laughed about it—teased her affectionately—and then opted to listen to some music instead (Remus' father had gotten Remus some Christmas music at the Muggle shop).

Overall, it was a pretty good Christmas.

Unfortunately, Remus' newfound perceived independence was dashed only a few days later.

"Ready to go, Remus?" asked Remus' mother, knocking on his door lightly. Remus was to stay at Madam Pomfrey's house today (which was horribly, horribly awkward), and he had to be awake and ready before his mother left for work.

Remus groaned. "Mum. No. It's six am."

"Yup. And I have to be ready to start work at seven, so you'd better get a move on. I want to be out the door in fifteen minutes."

Remus groaned again, dragged himself out of bed, and pulled on his typical collared shirt and jumper. "I don't understand why my friends can't come over again," he called. "We were fine last time."

"Because, although I agree that you need more independence, we need to do this slowly. You're ill, we're all traumatized several times over, and I would feel more comfortable if you stayed with Poppy today."

Remus grimaced and ran a wet comb through his hair. He forced on plain black socks. He brushed his teeth, and then he wandered into the sitting room. "Finished," he said.

"No, you're not. You haven't eaten breakfast."

"I'm not hungry."

"Yes, you are. You're eating at Madam Pomfrey's."

"Mum!"

"You're slowly getting to be a healthy weight, young man, and you are not throwing that away because you're lazy. I'm sure Poppy has something that you can eat."

"I wouldn't feel right imposing."

"Oh, quiet. We both know she'll be happy to help. LYALL! ARE YOU READY?"

"Not so loud, Mum," mumbled Remus, covering his twinging ears.

There was a crack like a whip, and then Remus' father was standing next to him, carrying a briefcase and wearing his work robes. "Time to go, then?" he asked briskly. "Fine. Grab my arm, Remus. Hope."

They did, and then the world spun into nothingness.

They stood in front of what Remus assumed was Madam Pomfrey's door, and Remus was terrified.

This was like visiting Professor Questus' house for the first time all over again. Remus did not belong at a teacher's house. Teachers were for school, not for babysitting Remus when his Mummy and Daddy weren't home. He wasn't a kid. He was a whole thirteen years old—that was ancient. He was learning Arithmancy, for Pete's sake. He wasn't a child at all.

Remus' mother rang the doorbell, and Madam Pomfrey arrived promptly, wearing a pink jumper and jeans.

Madam Pomfrey was wearing jeans?!

"Good morning," she said, hugging Remus' mother. "I hope you had a happy Christmas!"

"We did, actually!" said Remus' mother. "Thank you so much for doing this, Poppy. We're just not comfortable leaving him alone right now, and as much as we love his friends…."

Madam Pomfrey ended the embrace and then winked at Remus. "Yes, it's never a good idea to leave the Marauders alone for too long, is it?"

"Er, no," said Remus. He wasn't sure why he was being so awkward. "Never a good idea. We'd probably find a secret passageway, meet the ghosts of the Hogwarts Founders, and nearly die alone in the cold."

Madam Pomfrey raised an eyebrow. "That's oddly specific," she said.

"Well, it's not true," said Remus, and it wasn't. He hadn't met the ghosts of the Hogwarts Founders. He'd only met their portraits, and that was a huge difference.

Madam Pomfrey stared at him for a moment, and then she nodded slowly. "You have a bit of an odd sense of humor, did you know?"

"I've been told."

"I know you can't stay long, Hope, but if there's anything you want to tell me…."

"Oh, you know about as much about his health as I do," chuckled Remus' mother. "I should mention, however, that he hasn't eaten breakfast yet. I was hoping you might have something here that he could eat."

"Oh, of course! And please come in; it's freezing out there." Madam Pomfrey stepped aside, letting Remus and his parents enter. "I just made eggs and toast for my sister, and there's plenty of leftovers. I was hoping you might be hungry. Why don't you sit down?"

Remus was too busy looking around to do that. The house was completely different from what he had imagined. Then again, he hadn't really been able to imagine anything but the Hospital Wing, no matter how hard he'd tried.

But this place… this was definitely not the Hospital Wing. There were knitted things absolutely everywhere: the curtains were knitted, the couch covers were knitted, the tablecloth was knitted, and even Madam Pomfrey's jumper was knitted. There was color on every imaginable item, which was a stark contrast from the dull white of the Hospital Wing. There were no potions cabinets, and the smell of the place was entirely different.

Remus could certainly smell someone else in the area. He knew Madam Pomfrey had a sister, and he inferred she was upstairs. "Is your sister going to come downstairs?" he asked.

"Probably, but she usually sleeps until at least ten. Go on and sit down, Remus."

Remus nodded and took a seat on one of the chairs. It was covered with a pale yellow knitted spread. "Thanks," he mumbled as Madam Pomfrey set a plate of eggs and toast in front of him.

"Of course. Hope, we're going to be fine. Don't worry."

Remus' mother sighed. "I suppose if Remus was safe with his friends, he'll most certainly be safe with you," she admitted. Remus tried not to laugh. She had no idea about the passageway.

Remus' mother hugged him (which Remus didn't appreciate), Remus' father told her to stop smothering him (which Remus very much did appreciate), and then there was yet another crack like a whip and Remus' parents were gone.

He took a bite of the eggs.

"Thanks again," he said, but he said it more to break the unbearable awkward silence than he did because he was thankful.

"Well, I can't very well have you starve," sniffed Madam Pomfrey. "All my hard work healing you for years will be undone!"

"Yeah, I suppose."

"How are your holidays going so far?"

"They're good. Dad got me a record. It's Christmas music."

"Does that mean you'll stop listening to those horrid Adamson speeches?"

"No."

"That's what I thought."

Remus stared at the ceiling—it was the only thing separating him from Madam Pomfrey's sister, about whom he was still extremely apprehensive. "Tell me about your sister. Will she like me?"

Madam Pomfrey smiled. "I don't know how anyone wouldn't," she said.

Remus had to try very hard not to laugh at that. "Loads and loads of people don't," he said. "It comes with being a werewolf."

"But she doesn't know about that, Remus, and you mustn't tell her."

"Of course I won't tell her! Who do you think I am?"

"Fair point." Madam Pomfrey made a thinking noise before continuing. "Her name is Paige, and she's nearly four years younger than me. Her two great loves in life are knitting and goldfish, but she can't have a goldfish because she's allergic."

"She's allergic to goldfish?"

"Well, I don't think she is, but she does." Madam Pomfrey sighed. "Remus, the truth is that my sister—oddly enough, seeing as she's directly related to the matron of Hogwarts—is a hypochondriac. She's deathly afraid of getting ill. She makes up all sorts of illnesses for herself, and then she convinces herself that she feels worse than she actually does. It's all in her head, but the head can be a very powerful place indeed."

"Oh," said Remus, surprised. He found that a little funny, actually—a hypochondriac who was the sister of the Hogwarts matron—but he knew it would be downright rude to laugh about it. "Erm… that's too bad."

"It is. She has a rather severe anxiety disorder. For a while, she was too anxious to leave the house. We had to hire a nurse to run her errands while I was at Hogwarts. Fortunately, due to years of therapy and daily potions to soothe anxiety, her mental state is vastly improving."

While Remus was contemplating this, Madam Pomfrey pointed to his plate viciously. "Finish your food," she said.

He groaned. "Fine."

"Do you want me to go back to Hogwarts and fetch that jar?"

Remus gave her a dirty look. Madam Pomfrey's house looked nothing like the Hospital Wing, but it sure felt like it.

Remus and Madam Pomfrey amused themselves with a card game and talk of Hogwarts until about ten am—and, true to Madam Pomfrey's word, Paige Pomfrey arose at exactly ten-fourteen am and walked downstairs in a knitted robe. She looked a lot like Madam Pomfrey, except she was significantly taller, a bit skinnier, and had longer hair.

"Who's this?" Paige asked.

"This is Remus," said Madam Pomfrey, and her voice was as calm and unbothered as ever. "He's one of my frequent patients at the school. His parents are both working, so he's staying with us today."

"You didn't tell me he was coming," said Paige.

"You didn't tell her I was coming?" Remus whispered to Madam Pomfrey. He'd assumed that she had.

"I didn't tell you he was coming, Paige, because you'd've been panicking about it all night," said Madam Pomfrey patiently. "I'm sorry, but I can't stand another deep-sanitizing of the household."

Paige suddenly laughed—at least she had a sense of humor about the whole thing. "Fair," she said. "I'm rather glad you didn't tell me, actually. But… is he quite well?"

"What do you mean?"

"He's pale, he looks exhausted, and you said he's a frequent patient of yours. Does he have something? Is it catching?"

"No. He's chronically ill, but it's genetic. You can't catch it."

"Are you certain?"

"Perfectly. I've told you before, and I'll tell you again: I'm a professional Healer. I know what I'm talking about."

"Oh… okay." Now Paige looked directly at Remus and smiled. "It's nice to meet you… was it Remus?"

"Yes, Ms. Pomfrey."

She laughed again. "Very formal. Call me Paige. Are you really chronically ill?"

"Yes."

"With what, may I ask? And how does it feel?"

"Er…" Remus looked at Madam Pomfrey, who shrugged. "Er, it's rare enough that it doesn't really have a name. It mostly just makes me tired."

"I see. And is it possible that I have it? I think I've been rather tired recently."

"No," said Remus. "Not possible."

"Are you just saying that, or is…?"

Madam Pomfrey lobbed a knitted pillow at Paige's face. "Paige!" she said. "You're doing it again."

Paige blinked, and then she smiled. "So I am," she said ruefully. "Thanks, Poppy. I'm sorry, Remus—I get like this sometimes. Just... anxious. I don't mean to do it. I'm sorry."

"I understand," said Remus.

"Do you want to join the card game?" asked Madam Pomfrey. "Remus has beat me fourteen times already, so I think we need someone to break his streak."

"Oh… no," said Paige. "No. Playing cards are… I mean, everyone's touching them, and…" She sighed. "I'll play after I wash my hands, take a shower, eat breakfast, and brush my teeth. The fear is always worse in the morning, you know."

"Very well," said Madam Pomfrey. "We could do something else instead."

"I would prefer that, yes," said Paige. She was currently scooping some eggs onto her plate. "These look delicious, Poppy."

"Delicious? Yes. Cold? Also yes."

"As long as they're not raw. I don't need salmonella on top of everything else I have…" Madam Pomfrey gave Paige a look, and Paige deflated. "Right. I'm not ill. Stop talking about it. I can do that."

"Let's take a walk," decided Madam Pomfrey. "There's a shop about two miles away, and a restaurant right next to it. We'll walk down to the shop, take advantage of the post-Christmas discounts, and then eat lunch."

"It's pretty cold," said Remus.

"I'll cast a Warming Charm. Trust me, I won't let you freeze. Are you up to going outside today, Paige?"

Paige finished eating the rest of her eggs and nodded. "Of course. I've been meaning to buy more yarn, anyway."

Madam Pomfrey looked at Remus and rolled her eyes. "I'm drowning in yarn," she whispered, and Remus giggled.

"I heard that!" said Paige.

Paige kept asking Remus questions as they walked, and Remus wasn't sure how to answer some of them.

"So, you're thirteen?"

"Yeah."

"Why aren't you staying home alone then? Why do you need a babysitter? Poppy and I stayed home alone all the time when we were thirteen."

"I'm not babysitting," said Madam Pomfrey. "I'm keeping company."

"You're pretty much babysitting. 'Keeping company' is if he got to spend the time with friends his own age. 'Babysitting' is when he's spending it with a responsible adult."

She turned and stared at Remus inquisitively, and Remus squirmed. "It's… it's because of my illness," he said in a sudden burst of inspiration—after all, it was half true anyway. "Mum is always scared I'll have a surprise flare-up and need help or something."

"Oh," said Paige. "Yes, that makes sense."

Remus didn't miss how she scooted away from him slightly, as if she still thought he was contagious.

Over time, the conversation became progressively more pleasant. Paige asked Remus about his friends, and Remus happily responded with stories of their antics. She asked about his House. She asked about his hobbies, and she didn't laugh at Remus when he told her that his primary hobby was doing homework.

"I just got into Arithmancy," he said. "Professor Dumbledore is helping me with a project. I've been working on it for ages."

"He's always doing equations in the Hospital Wing while I'm trying to get him to sleep," said Madam Pomfrey with a massive eyeroll. "It's quite annoying."

Paige laughed. "Why don't you rest, Remus? If it were me and I was ill, I'd be doing everything the matron told me to do in earnest."

"That's the difference between you and Remus," said Madam Pomfrey before Remus could respond. "You think you're not okay when you actually are. Remus thinks he's okay when he's actually not. The two of you polar opposites: you have hypochondria and Remus has intense denial."

"I'm not in denial," said Remus. "I know perfectly well that I'm not okay. It's not denial at all."

"Then what is it?"

Remus turned up his nose. "Good old-fashioned disobedience," he said, and Madam Pomfrey laughed.

Shopping was rather fun, actually: Remus laughed at Paige's attempts to buy the whole yarn section, helped Madam Pomfrey pick out a new hat, and even found a Sickle on the ground next to the clothing aisle (it was a Muggle shop, so that was a rarity indeed).

As they were walking around in the aisle that contained discounted Christmas decorations, a frazzled young mother tapped Paige on the shoulder. "Paige!" she said.

"Heather!" Paige turned around and granted the woman a bright smile. "How are you?"

"Tired." She gestured to the three small toddlers holding onto her shirt. One was shrieking, one was rummaging around in her purse, and another was trying to run off. "Look, I need to get some shopping done. Do you mind watching my kids for a moment if you're in no rush? I'll be quick. They just won't let me get anything done today."

"Of course I don't mind," said Paige. "Poppy will help me—won't you, Poppy?"

"Of course."

"Thank you," said Heather; with that, she practically ran away, leaving Madam Pomfrey, Paige, and Remus with three insane children.

"She's my coworker," Paige explained. "I don't like children much—they spit too much—but Poppy and I have watched her children before. Do you have experience with children, Remus?"

"Absolutely none," said Remus.

And he really didn't; he didn't even remember being that age himself. One of them looked to be two, one of them looked to be four, and one of them looked to be six. Remus had been bitten by a werewolf at age four, and he hadn't really been much of a child anymore at six. His memories before the bite were completely nonexistent.

"Perfectly all right," said Madam Pomfrey. "All you have to do is make sure they don't run off." She scooped up the two-year-old in her arms and ruffled his hair. The kid laughed. "See? Easy."

Paige took the four-year-old, leaving the six-year-old with Remus. The kid was staring at Remus with wide eyes. Remus wasn't sure what to do, so he squatted and said, "Hi, what's your name?"

"Michael."

"I'm Remus."

"I've never heard that name."

"Really? It's just about the most common name in the world."

Michael looked confused, and Madam Pomfrey called, "Remus? No sarcasm with children, okay?"

"Oh," said Remus. "Sorry. Er… how old are you?"

"Six. And—and do you like dinosaurs?"

Remus was a bit taken aback by the sudden change in subject. "Dinosaurs? I guess."

"Why?"

Why? That didn't make any sense. The kid had been the one to ask in the first place, hadn't he? "Er. They're big, aren't they? And they have… teeth and claws and things." Remus couldn't quite resist adding, "I know all about teeth and claws."

Madam Pomfrey snorted.

"Oh," said Michael wisely. "You know, I like dinosaurs a lot. Some of them eat trees. They just gobble them up whole, like… CHOMP. I wish I could eat a tree."

"I imagine it would taste like salad."

"You think?" Michael looked at Remus, eyes even wider, and Remus remembered that Madam Pomfrey had told him not to use sarcasm.

"Without the dressing or vegetables," Remus added hastily.

"Oh. Dressing is my most favoritest part of salad. I like dipping my fingers in it and licking my fingers. Do you like doing that?"

"Can't say I've ever tried it."

"When I grow up, I want to be the Queen. Do you know why?"

"Nope."

"She lives in a castle. I want to live in a castle. There are moats around castles, and there are also dragons. I like dragons. They're like dinosaurs. Do you like dinosaurs?"

Remus wondered if Michael suffered from short-term memory. "Sure."

"I like dinosaurs. I also like ice-cream, but Mummy says it's not health-ely."

"All right."

"Will you read me a story?" Michael pulled a juice-stained picture book about dinosaurs from the inside of his jacket. "Here. Read."

"Erm…"

"You said you would! You promised!"

Remus hadn't remembered promising any such thing, but he took the book from Michael anyway. He was good at reading. He could do this.

Michael climbed onto Remus' lap, and Remus flinched. He couldn't do this.

Madam Pomfrey laughed, and Michael jabbed a sticky finger at the book. "Read," he demanded.

"Fine, okay," said Remus. "The… the Happy Dinosaur. By Scott Mudge."

Remus got through a couple of pages, but then Michael stopped him. "You're not giving me enough time to look at the pictures," he accused. "You need to give me time."

Remus flipped back a page. "Let me know when you're finished looking," he said.

Michael looked. After a few moments, he said, "Done," and allowed Remus to keep reading.

As Remus read, he realized that this was the kind of book with sound effects. He wasn't very good at sound effects. "Er… roar," he said.

"No, louder."

"I don't want to get too loud. Someone might think there's a real dinosaur in the shop and panic," Remus lied.

Michael seemed to be satisfied with that… until Remus got to the growling part and said the word "growl" instead of actually growling.

"No! You have to growl!"

"I can't growl."

"Yes, you can! Mummy can!"

"No, I'm not very good at growling." Remus thought back to the full moon nights, when there had been a constant rumble in his throat that got progressively louder whenever he was frustrated. He was actually very good at growling, though he'd never tried it in human form. And he didn't particularly want to. "I have a very serious disease called Can't-Growl-Itis," he said. "I haven't ever been able to growl. It's a curse."

Madam Pomfrey was openly laughing now, and Remus shot her a disapproving glance.

"It's okay," said Michael. "I can growl for you." Then he let out such a realistic growl that Remus nearly toppled over. "Did I scare you?"

"Yeah," said Remus. "Yeah, definitely. I'm gonna keep reading now."

Michael giggled. "Okay."

Remus' parents came to pick him up right on time. "How did it go?" asked Remus' mother anxiously. "No problems?"

"None at all," Madam Pomfrey assured her. "We played cards, took a walk, went shopping, and then went out for lunch. I managed to get him to eat a full meal."

"Oh, good," said Remus' mother.

"He also babysat a six-year-old for about twenty minutes in the shop," said Madam Pomfrey, her eyes twinkling. "He was very reluctant to do the sound effects in the book they were reading."

Remus groaned. "Are all children so annoying?" he asked. "I swear he was trying to get on my nerves."

"All children are annoying," confirmed Remus' mother with a smile.

"Well, I wasn't that annoying, I can tell you that."

Remus wasn't quite sure what he'd expected, but he certainly hadn't expected his parents to burst into hysterical laughter.

"Remus John Lupin," said Remus' mother, and a few tears escaping her eyes. "You were the most annoying child to walk the planet."

"You mentioned I was a bit wild before, but I can't imagine it. I always thought you were exaggerating."

"Exaggerating, maybe," said Remus' father, "but we were exaggerating in the other direction. 'A bit wild' is a massive understatement. You broke windows. You made your mother recite that stupid walrus poem ten times a day. You threw the most intense tantrums. You woke us up in the middle of the night."

"Not only that," said Remus' mother, "but you did that by hiding under our bed and jumping out when we least expected it. And you could do magic. That was the worst part. You changed everything in the house to a different color, you stole my necklace more times than I could count, you opened the door to Garrison's cabinet, and you shot sparks at me all the time."

"Yes, well, I wasn't annoying after I—" he glanced at Paige— "after I got ill, was I?"

"You were just as annoying," said Remus' father. Talking about it the other night had successfully broken the tension, and Remus was so happy that he could finally make offhand remarks about the painful time following the bite. "You made me read all the Maxwell Melephant books. Twice."

"At least I didn't make you do sound effects."

"You wouldn't even let him read half the time because you wanted me to do the funny voices," said Remus' mum.

"Oh. Well, then, maybe I was an annoying child. But I'm not annoying now."

"Debatable," said Remus' father as he ruffled Remus' hair.

Remus made a face. Then the three of them thanked the Pomfreys, Apparated home, and listened to more Christmas music (even though Christmas was over).

Overall, it hadn't been as awkward as Remus had thought it would be.

AN: Just hit 1,000,000 words across all of my fics! This is a very exciting day indeed!