Things began to settle down at Hogwarts, in the sense that Remus was finally able to catch up with the classes he'd missed. So far he'd tended to stay up till quite late finishing off essays, which inadvertently caused him to lose focus in class the next day, but all in all, he was managing to keep up with everyone else. So what if he lost a little bit of sleep? He could sleep after the full moon.

As for making friends, Remus was actually doing alright on that front. He talked to Peter between classes, and during lunch he spent a lot of time with Lily and Owain. They enjoyed each other's company, and Remus could relate to both of them in some way or another, whether it was Lily's muggle background, or Owain's familiar stories of growing up in the Welsh countryside, so they always had something to talk about.

Remus still hadn't conversed much with James and Sirius, as he frankly found them a little intimidating. They were already becoming quite popular among the first years, especially James, and especially after their first flying lesson, when James had shown off his skills for riding a broomstick. Unfortunately for Remus, their first flying lesson had happened on the day that he was stuck in the hospital wing, and he'd missed it, which disappointed him no end. But Madam Hooch came up to him a day later and said he could practice after school before the second lesson on Monday if he wanted.

"It's only the basics you need to go over," she explained. "Getting the broom in the air and hovering above the ground. I'll lend you one of the school brooms."

"Okay." There was a slight catch though, but it didn't turn out to be much of a bad one.

"I have my hands tied with Quidditch trials at the moment, so I'm afraid I can't supervise you," she said. "However, as long as you practice outside the Quidditch grounds, Professor McGonagall can watch you from her window, to make sure you don't get up to any funny business."

"I won't, Miss."

"Well, I wasn't really talking about you. Practice should only take you an evening and anything you don't pick up will be gone over in the next lesson. You might as well have someone to help you, though, so I was thinking perhaps that Mr. Potter could. I take it you know him?"

"Yes."

"So far he's excelled in flying, so he could help you go over the lessons. I could ask him if you want."

"Oh, um..." Would James want to do that? He didn't want to take up his time and then have James be pissed off at him for doing so. But then again, Remus would feel a bit of a twat practicing on his own, under the watchful eye of McGonagall. He decided to brave it. If worse came to worse, he could always tell James that Madam Hootch had forced them both to attend the practice session, and that he had had no choice in the matter.

"Alright," he agreed.

James, it turned out, was perfectly happy to help him, much to Remus's relief. It ended up being a nice opportunity to finally get to know him, and James was certainly very talkative. He also wasn't half bad at teaching either, though he was perhaps a little scatty, forgetting to finish a sentence before immediately starting a new one. Remus could hardly get a word in edgeways, but what was nice about James was that— despite his chattiness— he still asked questions. He didn't ignore Remus or go off on a one-way conversation. He was talkative, but he listened. Remus liked that.

"You sure you don't want to try out for the Quidditch team when you're older?" asked James. So far, over the course of the early evening lesson, Remus had shown a rather natural talent for flying. His broomstick had flown into his hand after only his second attempt at shouting 'up!' and he was perfectly steady as he sat hovering above the ground. James had asked if he played Quidditch, to which Remus had replied in the negative. Truth was, he had never played Quidditch before because he had grown up in an isolated muggle town, so there weren't many Quidditch playing opportunities. But that wasn't to say he had never watched Quidditch. His father took him to a match every month and Remus loved it, both the game and spending time with his dad. He'd never really entertained the idea of actually joining a Quidditch team, though. That wasn't really his thing. He'd be more suited to observing and commentating. He'd always liked the commentator, had always listened to what they were saying, wishing he had that kind of confidence. He sometimes pretended to be one in the bathroom mirror, until he had found out that his parents could hear every word he was saying; then he stopped out of embarrassment.

"Nah, there are way better people than me," he replied. He'd touched back down by now and the two were packing up, ready to go inside.

"Don't be hard on yourself. You've got a whole year to practice. You'll probably be even better than some people." Remus doubted that, but he appreciated the sentiment nonetheless.

"Will you be trying out?" He asked.

"Oh absolutely, I love Quidditch."

"Which position are you going for?"

"Chaser preferably, but I don't mind really. I might make a good seeker, but that needs a lot of focus, and I'm not great at that." It was getting dark, but the sun was creating a pink glow along the horizon, which melted into the blue-black sky above. It was a lovely evening, and Remus wouldn't mind staying outside for a while longer.

"McGonagall's still watching," whispered James in his ear. Remus looked up and sure enough, McGonagall was peering at them from over a book she was reading. James waved, grinning, and to their amusement, McGonagall waved back. "I don't think she quite trusts me," James continued. "Ever since I let off a dung bomb in class."

"You did what?" Bit ambitious, thought Remus, we've only been here a week.

"It was an accident, I swear! An older kid gave me some and I was going to let one off underneath that big tree near the lake, just to test it out, you know?"

"When was this?"

"Like a day ago. You weren't there."

"Oh. Right." Great. So Remus had already missed some big event that people would probably all be talking about. Though he was surprised that Lily hadn't mentioned it.

"Where were you anyway? I've hardly seen you at all since the first day."

"Oh, I've been ill. I was in the hospital wing." He decided that that would be his answer to every question from now on regarding his absences. Let people believe he was just a sickly child or something.

"Sorry to hear that. You're alright now though?"

"Yeah, yeah I'm fine." James dropped off the broomsticks, giving them back to Madam Hooch. She was in the changing rooms near the pitch, and a couple of older students were packing up to leave. Trials must have finished for the day, and Remus could see by the looks on people's faces who had done well and who hadn't. A particularly surly Gryffindor, who looked to be around fifth or sixth year, pushed past Remus with a scowl on his face nearly reaching to the floor.

"How did it go, boys?" asked Hooch, when James handed back the brooms.

"Great!" replied James. "This guy's a natural." He pointed at Remus, who looked awkwardly at his feet at the compliment.

"Oh, a future Quidditch player, perhaps?"

"That's what I said."

"Thanks but, Quidditch isn't really my thing." Which again, wasn't strictly true, but it was the easiest response.

"Ah, that's a shame. Maybe by second year you'll grow to love it." Madam Hooch sent them on their way, and the two headed to the dorm room.

"I'll introduce you to Sirius," said James. "You'll like him. He's a laugh."

"You're not gonna ditch us for them, are you?" asked Owain lightheartedly. It was the following day, and James had kept his promise of properly introducing Remus to Sirius, and it had gone well. The three of them had played exploding snap together for the rest of the evening, and Sirius had been just as interested in him as James had been. He asked him questions about his family and asked what it was like having a muggle mother, to which Remus said it was no different to having any mother, she just couldn't do any magic around the house. As a result, his father did most of the housework, thinking it unfair for Hope to spend ages on something that Lyall could do in a second.

"You don't have a house elf to help you?" asked Sirius.

"No, definitely not. My dad thinks enslaving house elves is too old fashioned, and mam was horrified when she found out about them."

"Really? My family has a house elf. He's awful though, can't stand him. But it's alright, cos he hates me too."

"Really?" Remus thought the statement was slightly comical, although he imagined it probably wasn't realistically. He'd just never heard of a rivalry between a wizard and a house elf before.

"Yeah, cos he's devoted to my mum and he thinks I'm not enough like her or something." He then immediately launched into a conversation about flying, and Remus didn't have time to contemplate the abrupt change of subject before all three of them were talking over each other about Quidditch.

Remus had struck up a conversation with both of them again the next day, which hadn't gone unnoticed by his other friends.

At lunch, he, Lily, Peter and Owain had bagged the prime spot underneath the large oak tree near the lake. It was weirdly hot this afternoon, too nice to stay stuck indoors, so they'd brought out their homework underneath the shaded branches, which mostly lay discarded. They were too distracted by each other and the hot sun that was making them rather sleepy to focus on their schoolwork.

"Of course not," replied Remus. "Though I don't see why we can't all just become one big friend group. We're all in Gryffindor after all. We'd have a laugh."

"I have enough friend groups, thanks," said Lily, her arm covering her eyes from the glare of the sun. "I already spend half my time with Severus, half my time with you lot, and another half with Mary MacDonald and Marlene McKinnon."

"You can't have three halves," Owain pointed out lazily. He was lying down, absent-mindedly picking at the grass, his eyes half closed.

"Exactly. That's how stretched for time I am. Besides, James and Sirius aren't really my type of people I don't think."

"Really? I think they're great," defended Remus.

"I'm sure they are, but they're too loud. And that stunt James pulled with the dung bomb wasn't exactly impressing anyone."

"He said it was an accident."

"Of course he'd say that."

"Settle down, lads," interjected Owain. "It's too hot to argue." He sat up on his elbows, flicking his head to the side to shake off his curly fringe from his eyes. "What about you, Pete?" He asked. Peter looked up from a textbook he was reading.

"What about me what?"

"Are we your main friend group?"

"Yeah I guess. Why?"

"Remus wants us all to join forces with Black and Potter."

"It was just a suggestion," reminded Remus.

"They seem nice, I s'pose," replied Peter. "But they don't seem like the type to wanna hang out with someone like me."

"Don't be so hard on yourself, mate," said Owain. "You're friends with us, aren't you?" Peter smiled in response.

"I'm too hot," exclaimed Lily, out of the blue. "I'm going inside." She stood up, gathering up various textbooks and her wand, said goodbye, and left the three boys struggling to stay awake on the shaded lawn.

Despite their conversation under the tree, Remus was still keen to try and strike up a friendship with James and Sirius. James was nice to him, and Sirius made him laugh. It'd be a shame, he thought, to not try and build on that. Perhaps then he could introduce them to Peter, and Owain, and Lily, and eventually they really could all be one big friend group. Then again, he was probably getting a little ahead of himself, but after ten years of having no friends, the prospect of five whole friends at once was exciting to say the least.

On the following day, Remus had to stay up late to finish off a potions essay he'd completely forgotten about, and since potions was quickly becoming his least favourite subject, Remus was already more than a little fed up. He was sitting just beyond the sofa, to the back of it, at a small table near the corner of the room. The sofa itself was taken up by James and Sirius. Remus wasn't in the mood to go up to them; he just wanted to finish his essay and go to bed. Besides, he was sure they hadn't even noticed him in the first place, engrossed as they were in a particularly fierce game of Wizard's Chess, which had been going on for a while. They seemed to be oblivious to the fact that everyone else had left half an hour ago to head for their dorm rooms. Needless to say though, Remus could hear everything they were were saying, which disrupted his focus and did nothing to help his frustration.

Especially when their conversation somehow moved on to blood status.

It hadn't started out that way. The conversation at first had just been about girls, and James had mentioned a girl in third year called Meryl Oakes, whom he thought was particularly attractive.

"She's a Hufflepuff," he explained further.

"Yeah I know, but she's not gonna go out with an eleven year old."

"I'm nearly twelve."

"No you're not!" Sirius laughed. "Besides, lots of people meet at Hogwarts and end up getting married. You don't want that to happen with Meryl."

"Why not? Cos when I'm twenty and she's twenty two, there's hardly an age gap."

"I know, I'm not talking about that. I mean, she's a muggleborn." Remus' ears pricked up at that, and he noticed James not responding straight away.

"So what?" James eventually asked.

"You're part of the sacred twenty-eight. You have to marry a pureblood otherwise you won't be anymore." Remus's heart was beating loudly in his chest. Where the hell was this coming from? He thought that Sirius didn't hold any blood purist views. He'd sure been acting like he didn't.

"What on Earth are you on about?" James sounded as shocked as Remus felt.

"Don't look like that. I'm not saying I don't like muggleborns or halfbloods or anything, I'm just talking about the twenty-eight. They're important, they need to stay pureblood."

"Bollocks." Sirius and James both jumped and looked in the direction of the voice. They spotted Remus, and Sirius noticeably flushed red. Remus hadn't intended to say anything at all, but a mix of frustration from his potions essay and from what Sirius was saying left him feeling as if his only option was to swear at them.

"Remus... I didn't know you were sitting there," said Sirius awkwardly.

"You're no better than me just because you're part of that stupid family."

"Oi, they're not stupid!"

"Yeah they are, if they think they're royalty just because they all slept with their bloody cousins." James stifled a giggle at that, but Sirius went even redder.

"Shut up, you don't know what you're talking about. There's nothing wrong with muggles or anything, I'm not like my family in that respect. I just think it'd be a shame if the current purebloods all died out because they married muggles, or muggleborns."

"Shit, Sirius, you're really not making this any better for yourself," muttered James, looking even angrier than Remus was, which wasn't surprising. Sirius was his best friend after all, so this entire conversation— as sudden as it was— was a bit hard to swallow.

"You're not getting what I'm saying!"

"No, we're getting you perfectly," snapped Remus, gathering up his books and parchment. There's no way he'd be able to finish his potions essay now; he might as well just go to bed. "You're no better than your family," was the last thing he said before heading up the stairs to the boys' dorm, leaving Sirius to face James.

Upstairs, Remus quietly put his things away and got undressed, trying not to wake anyone, but he'd clearly been louder than he'd realised as the curtains to Peter's four poster were drawn open, and Peter— who was in the bed next to Remus's— popped his head out.

"What's up?" He whispered. "You look angry."

"Nothing. Just go back to sleep." Remus wasn't in the mood to spread gossip around. He was tired. It was late. Peter hesitated before shrugging and drawing the curtains closed again. Remus heard him turn over in bed, his sheets rustling before growing still. Remus buttoned up his pyjama shirt, jumped up into his own bed and pulled the covers up to his chin. He lay there, staring at the ceiling, going over the last ten minutes or so in his head.

He wasn't exactly surprised by Sirius's views. It was rather optimistic to assume that an eleven year old who'd spent his whole life surrounded by a family like the Blacks would be completely without prejudice just on his own volition, but if his views never changed, if they got worse perhaps, what did that mean for Remus? It meant that keeping his werewolf identity, and his transgender identity, was even more crucial, and while he knew there were plenty of other students at Hogwarts who wouldn't accept him, he was more vulnerable with Sirius. They shared the same house, the same year, the same dorm room. There was no protection between the two of them.

Remus rolled over, his eyes finally closing, his thoughts getting jumbled up with other unrelated thoughts until he could feel himself drifting off to sleep.

The last clear thought he had before his mind went dark, the last thing he could safely say to himself was: Sirius was a threat to him. And he was scared.