Remus returned to Hogwarts with renewed vigor. Thanks to his late December transformation, he began his second term feeling refreshed, with no lingering symptoms of illness to prohibit him from attending his classes, reading his books, or making corrections to his map of the moving staircases. He was so pleased with his first tolerable month at Hogwarts that when the full moon arrived once more, he found himself in an unusually cheerful mood.

"Hey, boy! Don't you run so far ahead! Are you trying to escape or something?"

Remus checked his progress instantly. Madam Pomfrey had been called to tend to another patient at the last moment, and Filch was once again tasked with escorting Remus to the hidden passage. At the sound of the caretaker's irascible voice, Remus came to a halt, surprised to see how quickly he'd crossed the familiar path to the Whomping Willow.

"Something wrong with you?" Filch grumbled as his more sedate pace caught up to Remus, "Other than the obvious…"

Remus wasn't sure how to reply. He felt… odd. Usually, in the days leading up to his transformation, he felt sick and miserable. But tonight was different. Tonight he felt alive.

True, there were all the usual symptoms of discomfort. His senses were heightened, contributing to a kaleidoscope of sound and smell that always made him feel nauseous. At times his eyes were painfully sensitive to light. But in spite of the occasional sensory overload, he felt good. Maybe even stronger, somehow.

He did not bother trying to describe all this to Filch. If it had been Professor Corvus or Madam Pomfrey, perhaps he would have confided in them. They might have been interested. The caretaker, however, only posed questions in order to complain about his job or insult Remus further.

"I just don't want to be late," Remus said, settling on a generic reply, "It wouldn't be good if I were out here when the moon rises… For you or for me."

He added this last to urge Filch on faster, and wasn't disappointed. After giving a little shiver that had nothing to do with the cold, Filch quickened his pace and muttered, "I'm almost curious to see what happens to you on a night like this… But then I don't have a death wish…"

"What do you mean?" asked Remus, rising to the bait in spite of himself.

"You saying you don't know?" replied Filch with a sneer, "I thought beasts like you were supposed to keep track of this sort of thing?"

Remus remained silent now. Filch intended to goad him. He expected Remus to beg for whatever interesting tidbit of information he had at his disposal. He was not going to gratify him.

Sure enough, Filch's own impatience got the better of him, and he blurted, "There's an eclipse tonight!"

Remus remained silent, but inwardly he felt a wave of understanding wash over him. He had experienced lunar eclipses before, of course. He only wondered why he hadn't recognized the signs sooner. They were more bearable than his usual transformations, in that he never went on a rampage, as if the part of his mind that remained human kept him calm. Usually, he slept through the night without issues.

He did not share this information with Filch, however. The caretaker had proven himself a cruel and tyrannical man, always plaguing students with his never-ending rules and springing upon them if they were caught using magic in the corridors between classes. Remus didn't like him, and Filch's behavior assured him that the feeling was mutual.

They stopped at the Whomping Willow. Its branches were already thrashing at the darkening sky, as if it too had learned Remus's schedule, and was anticipating their arrival. Remus paused, then looked at Filch.

"Well, what're you waiting for?" Filch asked him irritably. "Get moving!"

"I left my wand in the hospital wing…" Remus admitted, taken aback by the demand. Usually Madam Pomfrey performed the spell to immobilize the tree. Remus never brought his wand with him, lest his canine form decided to make it a chew toy.

Filch stared at him, then uttered a curse. He turned to stare hard at the tree for several long seconds, as if his frown could frighten it into submission. But Remus didn't think a staring contest would get them very far, and the sky was growing darker by the minute. He could already see far-off stars winking in the indigo sky high above his head.

"Don't you think you should… cast a spell, or something…?" Remus suggested hesitantly, unsure of what Filch was waiting for.

Filch glared at him, spit on the ground, and finally reached into one of the pockets of his tattered brown jacket. He withdrew a rather short, stubby wand and pointed it uncertainly at the tree. Remus watched him with curiosity, suddenly aware that he had never seen Filch perform magic before.

Filch pointed his wand at the tree and muttered, "Immobilius…"

Nothing happened.

"Immobilius!" Filch repeated, a little louder this time.

But still nothing happened. The Whomping Willow's branches remained as active as ever, perhaps even a little wilder, as though it were mocking his attempts.

"I… I think perhaps… you may be saying it wrong…" Remus suggested tentatively.

With another curse, Filch thrust his wand into Remus's hands, demanding as he did so, "Damnit! Why don't you do it then, if you're so smart!"

Remus didn't know what to say. Filch's wand was so different from his own. The woodgrain was darker, and he hardly knew what core it possessed. But still, they couldn't stand around all night. With a nervous flutter, he raised the wand at the tree, cleared his throat, and pronounced, "Immobulus."

At once, the branches came to a sudden halt. Remus wasted no time. Having used an unfamiliar wand, he wasn't sure how long the charm would last. Handing the wand back to Filch, he darted forward and pressed the hidden knot on the tree. At once, the passage opened, and he turned to see if Filch had followed.

But the caretaker had not budged. He was looking at the tree, then to his wand, back and forth. His jaw was clenched, and Remus could make out a vein bulging near his temple.

"Are you coming?" he asked.

Filch looked up at him, working his jaw as if chewing on a particularly hard piece of meat. "I've got you this far enough, haven't I?" he asked with undisguised loathing, "You oughta know how to lock yourself in by now. Push off! Someone will be along for you in the morning."

Before Remus could argue, Filch had shoved his wand back into his pocket, then turned on his heel and began stalking back toward the castle. Remus didn't stay to watch him go. Whatever was bothering Filch had nothing to do with him, and right now, he could feel his transformation drawing closer.

He scurried down the dark passageway, climbing the short ladder up into the old house. After placing a threadbare rug back over the trapdoor, he set about making his usual preparations. An as yet undefiled closet on the second floor housed his clothes, while a moth-eaten blanket wrapped around his shoulders served as a temporary covering until the transformation would begin.

He kept waiting for the inescapable misery of losing control as his body betrayed him. And yet he felt calm. The usual nausea never assailed him, while the bright, silvery light that streamed through the boarded windows showed that the time had come. The full moon was rising.

Then a familiar pain gripped his stomach. He had taken the precaution of sitting down, and it was good that he did. When his stomach clenched, he doubled over, and if he had been standing his legs would surely have given out beneath him. Instead, he crawled on all fours to the center of the room, watching in a detached sort of way as his fingers lengthened and his nails grew thick and black. Tendons snapped and bones cracked as his skeletal frame rearranged itself. The bones of his skull stretched forward, pulling at his skin as his tongue lolled over his newly sharpened teeth. Dark brown fur erupted over his body as he shook himself all over, settling into the canine form.

The transformation hurt, as it always did. But when it was over, as he panted and heaved himself onto his rear paws, his mind was as alert as ever.

Remus, or the wolf that was now Remus, looked over his paws in surprise, then turned to glance at a tarnished mirror hanging by the ruined bed. There he was, his lupine face staring back at him with bright yellow eyes. And yet there was no fear from the canine. None of the usual anger of a caged animal. He was himself, and yet he was the wolf, as well.

It had to be the effect of the eclipse. He could account for no other reason why he had managed to keep control. He hesitated only a moment before he judged it safe to remove one of the planks covering the window. The protective wards designed to keep him inside were sure to hold, even with one board removed. He grabbed the wood with his claws, easily removing one of the boards as if it were little more than tissue paper. Through the gap left behind, he saw the moon, bright and full. But a thin sliver of shadow marred the perfectly round silhouette, and it was slowly growing.

Remus wagged his tail. He had known that an eclipse kept him calm, but chained and locked away as he'd always been before, he had never tested his control over this form. So delighted was he by this discovery, he lifted his snout and howled. It sounded loud and close in the confines of the small house, but it did not bear the usual note of loneliness or sorrow.

He was still holding the plank. Setting it aside, he flexed the muscles of his forepaws. He did not know how long this effect would last. It could be just for the duration of the eclipse, or it could last the rest of the night. Either way, this was a rare opportunity to test the limits of this physical form while his mind remained human. He wanted to explore the sensation while it lasted.

First, he tried racing down the longest stretch of hall that the small house offered. The passage that ran down the length of empty bedrooms was not ideal. He was able to cross its length in only a few loping strides. He wanted more space, where he could really sprint. But this was impossible inside. He whined. In this powerful form, he longed to roam free. For the first time, he began to understand why he so often scratched at himself when he was forced to be confined. He was bored. He itched to be outdoors, to feel the night breeze ruffle his fur…

To take his mind off his dissatisfaction, he tried other ways of testing his strength. He dug his claws into the brittle wood and mortar of the house's interior walls, climbing up as far as he could before his own weight brought him sliding back down, leaving long claw marks and curling strips of old wallpaper. Then he tried lifting several of the heavier pieces of furniture. In his wolf form, he had clawed and smashed many items in frustration. But now he merely lifted things, pressing them above his head as he had seen some Muggle bodybuilders do on TV before setting it carefully down in place again.

Much time had passed once these experiments were complete, and yet he was dissatisfied. He was still himself, though perhaps with some of the wolf's daring. Creeping toward a different window, this time on the ground floor, he peered through a small crack between the wooden planks. The moon was suspended in the sky, still full and glowing, and not a shadow in sight.

His tail wagged with excitement again. The eclipse was already over, and he could still think like himself! If only he could go outside, beyond the wards. He was no danger to anyone while he was in control. And it would be such a relief to be in the fresh air, expending his energy with a long run...

Then he remembered. The hidden passage beneath the house would be cramped in this form, but it was long and straight. Surely if he ran on all fours, he could test his speed more fully there?

Remus hesitated. In his human form, he would have recoiled from even considering such an idea. There were too many risks involved. It was irresponsible. Even now, there was a part of him that simply wanted to find an unbroken bed upstairs and sleep the rest of the night away. Perhaps his wolf form made him more reckless, for he crept steadily toward where he knew the trapdoor was hidden.

There was no indication that the door existed on this side of the floor, but his long, black claws fit easily between the seam of the doorway, and he lifted it without effort. The dark passageway yawned beneath him. By daylight, Remus would have stopped here. He would have been too scared to venture further. But the wolf could smell the damp earth and the musty scent of root and rot and fungi. It excited him.

Hardly knowing when an opportunity like this would present itself again, he leapt down into the opening, landing softly on his large padded paws.

Even with the wolf's keen eyesight, the end of the tunnel was lost in shadow. Remus didn't care. He knew the path. He'd walked it several times. It was a straight shot all the way back to the Whomping Willow. He crouched down on all fours, taking a runner's stance as if he were about to begin a race.

He would just run to the end of the tunnel, he told himself. Just to the end, then he'd turn back, and sprint to the house again. He'd tire himself out that way, running back and forth along the passage until he was calm enough to sleep through the rest of the night...

When he opened his eyes, the first thing he saw was the light blue of a January sky. He shivered, feeling the soft crackle of dead leaves beneath his back while he watched a breeze disturb the bare branches high above his head. He lay still for a moment longer, taking in the sights and smells of the forest around him. Then he sat bolt upright.

It was morning. He was human again. And he was naked in the woods.

Though elsewhere there was still snow on the ground, the trees that surrounded him grew so close that the forest floor was mostly dry. Remus was thankful for this small blessing as he stumbled across the ground on his bare feet. Shambling forward, he searched for the sun through the branches of the trees. He couldn't tell what time it was. He prayed that it was still early.

He tried not to think of what Filch would say if he returned to the house to find it empty. He'd report him to Dumbledore, that much was certain. Would they expel him? There was a time when Remus would have accepted such an outcome willingly. But the memory of his last transformation was too fresh in his mind. He'd tasted just a bit of freedom the night before. Did he really want to go home, back to a life of shackles and chains?

Remus had been so desperate to make his way back, he hadn't been paying attention to the direction in which he roamed. He froze, taking in his surroundings. He had no idea where he was.

Biting back the feeling of panic rising in his chest, Remus tried to gather his thoughts. He shivered again. He was cold. Freezing, in fact. And he was lost. Suddenly, he was no longer concerned about expulsion. If he didn't find his way back to civilization soon, he was going to freeze to death.

Remus closed his eyes, willing the pounding of his heart to slow. But all he managed to do was squeeze out two fat tears, which streamed down his frigid cheeks. The sensation acted as a catalyst, and a sob escaped his throat. His hand flew to his mouth to stifle the sound, but his shoulders shook with fear and cold.

A twig snapped behind him. Remus, frightened and embarrassed, turned his head in the direction of the sound. He was confronted by a strange sight. From the waist up, he was gazing at another boy. Like Remus, he was shirtless, though he wore a sort of crude fur cape. From the waist down, he had the body of a horse. A blanket of the same patchwork design laid across his flanks. His arms were thrown back, exposing his bare chest, while he aimed a bow and arrow at Remus's heart.

"You should not be here," said the centaur. His voice was hushed and soft, contradicting his rather hostile pose. Remus judged him to be a teenager, only a few years older than himself. Yet he sounded far more mature than his youthful face would have suggested.

Remus didn't know what to do. He had heard rumors that a herd of centaurs roamed the Forbidden Forest near the school, but had never seen one in person. Ashamed of his appearance, his hands moved to cover himself, but the centaur did not seem disturbed by his nakedness.

"Were you the beast that was stalking these woods last night?" he asked in the same soft, measured tone.

Remus, heedless of the arrow still pointed at his chest, wrapped his arms around his shivering frame and took a hesitant step forward.

"I-I'm s-sorry… I d-didn't mean t-t-t…. P-Please, I need help…" he stammered, the cold and his own panic overwhelming him.

The centaur pulled the string of his bow taught, and Remus stopped in his tracks. It was his fault that he was in this situation. He should have never ventured into the passage. He shouldn't have broken the rules. Once again, tears began to stream down his face, blurring his vision before he hastily dashed them away.

The centaur watched him in silence a moment longer, then sighed, and lowered his bow.

"You are a student of Hogwarts, are you not?" he asked, "Come, I will not harm you."

Remus, sniffling still, stumbled forward. Without warning, the centaur removed the blanket covering his horses' back, then wrapped it around Remus's thin shoulders.

"Cover yourself. It is a long walk to the school."

"What about you?" Remus asked shakily. "Won't you be cold?"

Though his human appearance was young, his horse's body was already about fifteen hands high. He looked down at Remus from his superior height. Though his face remained cool and impassive, Remus thought he saw something like amusement glimmering in his eyes.

"I will be fine, human," he replied, "Our bodies are warmer than yours."

If Remus hadn't been so shy, he might have asked his companion about the other centaurs. But as his salvation seemed assured, he was forced to reconsider his now certain expulsion. He followed the centaur with his head bowed, the blanket he had loaned him wrapped tightly around his shoulders, providing some measure of warmth and preserving what little modesty he had left.

The centaur was not very talkative. Other than a few murmured warnings to watch his step and make haste, he said not a word. Remus found himself wondering if all centaurs were like this, though he thought it might be rude to ask.

"Almost there, now," he said at last. They had come to a smooth, dirt path that twisted its way through the trees. Further down, Remus could see golden shafts of sunlight slicing through the blue-grey shadows of the forest. Just as Remus was about to ask how much farther they needed to go, he saw a familiar structure taking shape at the end of their path. It was the groundskeeper's cabin.

A large hound heralded their approach with his booming barks. The dog was young, still a puppy, but it was massive. And like him, his master was big. The goundskeeper stood about 8 feet tall, and was twice as wide as most men. Remus recognized Hagrid from his first night at Hogwarts, though he had never exchanged a word with the man since then. Despite his size, he was not intimidating. It was hard to tell his age underneath his bushy brown beard, but his voice had a friendly, youthful quality as he raised a hand in greeting.

"That you, Magorian? I don' normally see yeh this close ter the school. What brings yeh?"

"I have brought you a lost foal," replied the centaur, stepping aside so that Remus could be seen.

"A lost what now?" Hagrid asked. Then his eyes fell on Remus, widening to the size of tea saucers as he exclaimed, "Merlin's Beard! Remus? What 'appened ter yeh!?"

"This is where I leave you," Magorian said, ignoring Hagrid's outburst and addressing Remus. "Hagrid will care for you. I advise you not to go wandering in our woods again."

"Thank you," Remus mumbled. His hands tightened on the blanket. He would be embarrassed to be seen naked again, but it didn't seem right to keep the blanket any longer. As he started to remove it, Magorian stopped him. For the first time, Remus saw him smile.

"Keep it," he said, "Perhaps one day you will return the favor."

"Thank you," Remus said again. He then added, "I'm sorry."

Hagrid had stepped forward, resting one of his massive hands on Remus's shoulder and nodding to Magorian respectfully, "Thanks fer lookin' after him. Give my best ter yer father, will ya?"

Magorian did not say whether or not he would pass along Hagrid's respects, though he did reach under his cloak, and withdraw a small bundle of dead rabbits, tied together by their feet. Evidently, he had been hunting when he found Remus stranded in the woods.

"For the thestrals," Magorian said smoothly, passing this macabre parcel to Hagrid. Then, without another word, he turned and cantered back into the trees.

Hagrid glanced down at Remus, whose knees shook so badly they were knocking against each other. He just needed his teeth to chatter, then he would be a perfect caricature of shivering misery. Hagrid rubbed his thick, wooly beard and sighed.

"Come on, then. Let's get you warmed up."

Remus expected to be led directly to the castle, where he would face the wrath of Dumbledore. Instead, Hagrid brought him inside his own small cabin, where a roaring fire offered immediate relief from the bitter cold. Hagrid placed him on a long bench directly in front of the hearth, where his fur blanket was soon replaced by a thick, hand-sewn quilt, big enough to act as a tent for a family of four. Hagrid then set about preparing a kettle of boiling milk, intent on giving him a mug of chocolate.

After his harrowing adventure in the forest, Remus was almost overpowered by these simple acts of kindness. He continued sniffling long after the chocolate was placed in his hands. Hagrid must have guessed what was on his mind, for he said, "You wan' ter tell me what happened?"

He confessed everything. From the effects of the lunar eclipse to his experiments in the house to the irresistible draw of the hidden passage. He told Hagrid that he hadn't meant to escape past the wards, but this wasn't entirely true. His human mind had been in control. He could have stopped himself before venturing beyond the Willow's roots and into the Forbidden Forest. But he hadn't wanted to. For once in his life, he had enjoyed his transformation. He hadn't wanted that feeling to end. He had wanted to run farther, to sniff among the dried bracken, to roll in a pile of leaves…

Hagrid was silent for a few moments after Remus had finished, then he sighed again, twisting his fingers in his beard as he settled heavily back in his own massive armchair.

"Well, I don' need ter tell yeh it was a foolhardy thing ter do," he said at last, "An' yeh shouldn've taken such a risk. But I suppose yeh've been punished enough. We'll wait till mornin' classes 'ave started, then I'll see to it yeh get up ter the hospital wing. We can tell everyone yeh weren' feelin' well."

Remus couldn't believe what he was hearing. Wasn't he going to be expelled?

"But… But I broke the rules! What if I'd been seen? Or hurt someone?"

"Wha'd'ya mean? Didn' yeh say you were in control last night?"

"But… But I…"

"Ah, Remus. We all do stupid things when we're kids," Hagrid said with am indulgent smile, "An' I'm not goin' ter judge a boy fer wantin' ter play outside."

"But Filch is coming to get me and when I'm not there…"

"Aye, yeh just let me handle Filch," said Hagrid with a knowing look. "I'll tell 'em I thought it was my turn ter go and fetch yeh. Simple mistake."

"And… And Dumbledore?"

"Right…" Hagrid mumbled with a more troubled look. He seemed to be weighing his options, before he finally stated, "Well… How's abou' jus' this once, we keep this between you an' me, eh? Mind, if I catch yeh doin' it again, I'll 'ave to report it. But if yeh've really learned yer lesson…"

"I have!" Remus said eagerly, "It won't happen again! I swear!"

Hagrid surveyed him critically once more, running his large hand over his beard in contemplation. He must have been satisfied with the conviction he saw on Remus's face, for he nodded his head and replied, "Alrigh'. Once yeh've finished yer cocoa, I'll escort yeh back to the castle. And we won' say another word abou' this. But I haf'ta warn yeh again, you better stay outta the forest! It's not jus' centaurs that roam those woods, yeh know..."

"What could be more dangerous than a werewolf?" Remus mumbled miserably.

"Never you mind!" Hagrid said with a bit of unease. "Jus' remember what I said, an' stick to the shack!"