The days gradually grew longer and warmer as February drifted into March. While other students took advantage of the sudden increase in sunny days to explore the school grounds or play about on their broomsticks, Remus spent his free time agonizing over what he had learned about Professor Corvus.

He both longed to talk to her and feared to mention the subject. The respect he held for the professor made him curious to know more about her condition, but Hagrid's words weighed heavily on his mind. It was her business, not his. And if she had wanted to share the information with him, she could have done so months ago. And yet Professor Corvus had been the one who first alluded to a similarity between them, hadn't she? And she already knew his secret. Wasn't it fair that he now knew hers?

He argued in circles with himself for weeks. The result was always the same. Even if he could overcome his own trepidation, how could he possibly approach the subject with the professor?

Finally, about the middle of the month, he settled on a plausible excuse for staying after class. He hung back while the rest of the students gathered their things, laughing with one anther about the way their hair was standing on end, emitting harmless green sparks as a side effect of the spell they had been practicing that day. Professor Corvus did not appear to notice him as she waved her wand through the air in a great arch, summoning the desks and chairs that had been swept away for the lesson.

Satisfied that her classroom was in order once more, she turned and observed Remus. Her raised eyebrows were the only indication of her surprise, for her tone remained pleasant and friendly as asked, "Yes, Remus? Did you have a question about the Verdimillious spell?"

Remus seized this opportunity. Crossing the room in a few quick strides, he placed a stack of books on the desk in front of Professor Corvus.

"I've finished them," Remus declared, "All of the books you brought to the hospital wing. I returned the rest to the library, but Madam Pince says these novels aren't from the school. I thought they must belong to you."

"Irma isn't fond of keeping novels in the Hogwarts collection. She says it's the school's job to provide knowledge and education, not entertainment. I can't say I care for her taste…" said Professor Corvus with a smile, selecting the topmost book from the stack and turning the cover over, "So? Which did you like best?"

"Definitely that one," Remus responded eagerly, referencing the volume in her hand, "I liked the description of Ilvermorny. It reminded me of Hogwarts, a little. I wonder if it's an accurate depiction of what school is like in America?"

"Not exactly," Professor Corvus remarked offhand, "Most American students can't afford to travel across the country and attend a private boarding school like Ilvermorny. Those that I've met attend day schools, or learn magic from their parents."

Remus's eyes grew wide. For a moment, he forgot all about his ulterior motives, and wanted only to discuss books and teaching with the professor.

"Have you been to America, then?"

"Oh yes," said Professor Corvus, "Many times. And not just there. I've been to Beauxbatons and Durmstrang, not to mention Mahoutokoro and Uagadou… I suppose the only major school I haven't visited has been Koldovstoretz..."

"I've never traveled anywhere…" Remus admitted, impressed by the professor's exploits. "The furthest I've ever gone from home has been Hogwarts, and I thought…"

He stopped himself, but Professor Corvus, interpreting his thoughts through his expression, gently suggested, "You didn't think traveling was an option for you?"

He nodded, though he had been thinking something slightly different. Traveling not only seemed impossible, he was deathly afraid of the idea. He had to keep track of the lunar cycle, always preparing for the next full moon. He couldn't imagine getting stuck in some far away place, without protective wards or enchanted chains to keep him away from people he might harm.

No, he told himself that he was satisfied with his books. In the pages of a good novel he could find plenty of adventure. He wanted nothing else.

Professor Corvus must have had a similar idea, for she suddenly plucked the stack of books off her desk, and returned them to Remus.

"Tell you what," she said, "Why don't you keep them? Read them again in a few years, and see how your feelings change as you get older."

Remus stared down at the books in his hands. In truth, he was delighted with the gift, but he sensed another purpose behind the professor's actions. She was not merely prompted by pity.

Sensing that his chance had arrived, he tentatively asked, "Professor… Are you giving these away because you want me to have them… or because you won't need them much longer?"

Professor Corvus raised her brows in surprise once more. For a brief moment, Remus feared he had overstepped, and that she would become angry with him. Instead, her expression settled into a sad smile.

"How long have you known?"

Remus had been prepared for this question. He hadn't wanted to get Hagrid in trouble for letting the truth slip, so he had rehearsed his answer several times.

"I overheard Madam Pomfrey talking to you in the hospital wing…" he said, "But I wasn't sure what it was about. Then I came across a term while I was researching in the library, and..."

"And you realized that I was a Maledictus," concluded Professor Corvus with a sigh. "It's alright, Remus. You don't have to avoid saying it. It's not exactly a secret."

"It's just... You never said anything about it," Remus mumbled, looking back down at the books so he could avoid her eye. "I thought maybe... You didn't want anyone to know..."

Professor Corvus ran a hand through her short-cropped hair. "Well, it's true that I'd rather not discuss it with my students, in general. You should be focused on your studies, not worrying about my..."

"But I…" Remus interrupted, his head snapping up as he started to argue. But the words stuck in his throat. He wasn't sure what he wanted to say. He wanted to reassure the professor that her students cared about her, but he couldn't speak for them. It was Remus, and Remus alone, who felt a keen interest in her curse. He was invested because her condition seemed so similar to his own.

"I know," Professor Corvus said before Remus could properly gather his thoughts. "The truth is, the curse is progressing faster than I expected. Sooner or later, everyone will know."

There were so many things Remus wanted to ask. How much longer did she have until her permanent transformation? What sort of animal would she become? It felt rude to ask. And in that moment, there was only one question Remus really cared about.

"Are you scared?"

Professor Corvus didn't answer right away. A far-off look suffused her features. She seemed to be considering her words carefully before she replied, "A little, but mostly I just feel sad. I'm not ready to say goodbye to my friends. I don't know if I'll remember them when I fully transform, you see. But they'll remember me. It's a shame to leave them behind..."

Remus could tell, both from the tone of her voice and her expression, that she was telling the truth. These were her true feelings. She wasn't scared for herself, only concerned for others. He suddenly felt like crying, and was sorry he mentioned the subject, after all. But Professor Corvus was still able to smile at him. There were no tears standing in her dark eyes as she rested a comforting hand on his shoulder.

"You shouldn't worry about me, Remus. I've known for a long time what fate had in store for me. When the time does come, I'll be ready. Now then, take those books as a gift from me, and hurry along. You won't want to miss your next class."

Remus managed to utter a few words of thanks before turning to leave. He did not trust himself to say more. Rather than head to his afternoon classes, he took refuge in the nearest lavatory, locking himself an a stall where he could indulge in a few solitary tears. It had been a while since he'd allowed himself to cry, and though somewhat ashamed of his weakness, he felt a sense of relief when he was done. He remained in the bathroom a while longer, enjoying the silence and solitude. Only when he was sure he was calm again did he exit his stall. After splashing his face with cool water from the sink, he judged himself fit enough to be seen, provided no one looked too closely at his red and swollen eyes.

It was already late afternoon by the time he turned his steps toward Gryffindor tower, still in deep meditation over Professor Corvus and her curse. When he stepped into the common room, however, he was met with quite a different scene. James Potter sat in the middle of a cluster of first-years, loudly discussing his plans for his birthday while the group laughed or jeered, as his comments warranted.

"Do you really think McGonagall will let you host a party here? In the common room?" Frank Longbottom asked with undisguised skepticism.

"What McGonagall doesn't know won't hurt her," Potter said with confidence.

"And if you try to warn her, I'll hex you," Sirius Black remarked. He was sprawled across a sofa, his head resting in Potter's lap as if it were the most natural thing in the world. Potter laughed at his friend's casual threat, even as Longbottom scowled.

"What about snacks?" asked Rebecca Cohen, "You can't really expect to have a three-tier cake. Where would you even get it?"

"I have my ways," Potter replied cryptically.

"There will be butterbeer, too! Won't there, James?" Peter Pettigrew asked, his head swiveling back and forth, as though he were trying to gauge everyone's reaction to this news at once.

Longbottom scoffed, "Now I know you're joking! You can only get butterbeer in Hogsmeade, and first-years aren't allowed."

Potter shrugged his shoulders as if to say "we'll see about that." Before he could utter another word, however, his eyes fell on Remus.

"Lupin!" he called out, "You'll come to my party, won't you? Everyone's going to be there!"

"I'm busy," Remus said bluntly.

"I haven't even told you when it is yet!"

"Fine, when is your birthday?"

"The twenty-seventh."

"I'm busy."

Cohen and her friend, Barbara Oakwood, giggled coquettishly behind their hands. Evidently, they found his harsh refusal amusing. Their attention seemed likely to spur Potter on further. He sat forward in his seat, jostling Black, who scowled at the disruption and turned his critical eye toward Remus. But he was in no mood to entertain them. Ignoring Potter's continued petitions, he proceeded up the stairs to his dormitory.

He might have mentioned that today was actually his twelfth birthday, but he didn't dare. It would have been counterproductive to confide this fact to any of his peers, though admittedly, he had considered telling Hagrid. The groundskeeper was his only real companion at the school, and yet asking Hagrid to celebrate his birthday seemed too desperate. Remus didn't want to make him uncomfortable.

And so the morning of his birthday had passed without any fanfare. Remus had received a gift from his parents in the morning's post, which he opened in private in his room that evening. He couldn't help but reflect on the difference between him and James. While downstairs the planning for his birthday party grew louder and ever more extravagant in its promises, Remus remained alone in his dorm, penning a thank you letter to his mother and father.

He told himself it was for the best. Even if he had wanted to attend, the proximity of Potter's birthday to the full moon would prohibit him from participating. He would likely be in the hospital wing by then, or else locked up in the solitary house. And yet he could feel his resolve weakening with each passing day. Loneliness gnawed at him like hunger, and he wasn't sure he could resist another invitation, even if it came from James Potter.