The attentions of Evans and Snape, however unwelcome, were still preferable to Potter, Black, and Pettigrew. Despite Remus's repeated rejections, they were determined to make him join the Marauders, whatever that was. As adept as Remus was at ignoring them, he began to notice a strange pattern. There were times when he would dart down a corridor, on purpose to avoid the trio, only to have them reappear a moment later in exactly the opposite direction. He became convinced either Potter or Black had discovered some of the secret passages that snaked through the school, enabling them to move in clandestine ways.

As the ambushes became more frequent, Remus began to avoid common areas. It was bad enough sharing a dormitory with the trio, where only the sobering presence of Frank Longbottom offered any relief. Now even the library wasn't safe. Black had come sniffing around the bookshelves one afternoon, searching some of the more remote alcoves, though Remus was quite certain Black had never stepped foot in the library before. Gradually, he resorted to more unusual locations for respite, braving the harsh wind and snow to visit Hagrid's cabin, or climbing as high as the Owlry on finer days.

He was starting to worry that he was not merely a passing interest to the boys, after all. If they continued to pursue him much longer, he feared they would resort to more drastic measures to capture his attention.

Fortunately, the approaching winter holidays promised some relief from these worries. That is, until Potter caught up with him after Charms class just before the break.

"Lupin! Just the man I wanted to see," he exclaimed with a cheerful grin as he threw his arm over Remus's shoulder. It was an uncomfortable position. Remus, already taller than most of the boys in his class, was forced to stoop under the weight of Potter's arm. "What are your plans for the holiday?"

"I'm going home," Remus said forcefully, trying to slip out of Potter's grasp.

"Don't be like that!" insisted Potter, "You should stay at Hogwarts with us!"

It was the same dilemma as last year. Try as he might to ignore them, he couldn't help but overhear some of the trio's conversations as they chatted together in their dorm. In this way, he had learned that Black's relationship with his parents had not improved. If anything, the arrival of his younger brother, who had been dutifully sorted into Slytherin, had only driven the wedge between Black and his family much deeper. His position as the black sheep was now firmly secured. It was a role he seemed to relish. Each new detention summoned a howler from his mother that he seemed almost proud to open right in the middle of the Great Hall.

Nevertheless, the circumstances did not make him eager to return home over the holidays, and so Potter and Pettigrew vowed to spend another Christmas at the castle with their friend.

"I have plans," Remus stated. It wasn't entirely untrue. Even if he could have been persuaded to spend the holiday with a group of boys he barely knew, he had already charted the phases of the moon. His next transformation would occur over the break. Staying at Hogwarts was absolutely out of the question.

Of course, had he really wanted to stay, it was possible Dumbledore could make the necessary arrangements. There would still be members of the staff present to help ferry him to and from the Whomping Willow. He would be in no danger of missing classes if his symptoms were too severe. But he also knew that not many students chose to remain at the castle over the winter holidays, and that meant fewer distractions. The Marauders had already taken an interest in him. What would they say if he disappeared for a few days right before Christmas?

He managed to wriggle out of Potter's clutches and continued down the hall, determined to make his escape. But Potter was persistent. He remained at Remus's side, jogging slightly to keep up with the taller boy's longer stride.

"I don't think I've ever met someone as stubborn as you," said Potter without a hint of irony, "Even Regulus agreed to stay with us!"

Remus checked his rapid pace. In spite of himself, he found this piece of news interesting. Though Black had evidently no desire to reconcile with either of his parents, he had exhibited a vague interest in his younger brother. Remus often heard him speak in a half-joking tone of "liberating" Regulus from the toxic influence of their mother. The last Remus had heard, Regulus took an opposing position. He seemed to think that Sirius wasn't doing his duty as the eldest son to uphold the prestigious family name. It was surprising to hear that he had submitted to a request from his rebellious brother.

"That's good," Remus said without thinking, "That'll make Sirius happy."

Potter eyed him with an inscrutable expression before he asked, "Do you care what makes Sirius happy?"

Remus had merely been thinking of himself. As an only child, he had often longed for a sibling, someone he could confide in without fear of them learning his secret. He couldn't imagine what it would be like to be Sirius, with a little brother who in the natural course of things should be his closest friend, only to be estranged through some convoluted family rivalry. Remus had been speaking to his own feelings, and Potter's question embarrassed him.

"Not really," he replied, resuming his fast walk down the hall, heedless of Potter's efforts to keep up.

"Do you know what would make him really happy?" Potter continued, as though he hadn't heard Remus's retort. "If you stayed with us over the break…"

"Then he should learn to be disappointed," growled Remus before slipping into the library, where he finally managed to lose Potter among the crowded bookshelves.

Remus had to endure two more petitions to remain at Hogwarts, but soon he was back on the train, and shortly thereafter settled comfortably in the kitchen of his parents' home. Baking was the latest hobby his mother had picked up since sending her only child off to school, and Remus arrived to the smell of sugar wafting in the warm air. Hope quickly enlisted both her husband and their child in her mission to ice as much gingerbread as possible. Though there was far more than their small family could possibly eat in the few short weeks allotted to Remus for the break, she was already at working making a batch of shortbread biscuits, as well.

"This would go a lot faster if you would just let me use magic," Lyall observed dryly as he struggled to piece together the walls of a gingerbread house.

"Don't you dare," Hope cautioned, flicking a spoon in his direction and spattering him with specks of biscuit dough. "The fun is in doing it yourself!"

"Are you having fun?" Lyall asked his son in a dubious undertone.

While his father had been ordered to construct the house, it fell on Remus to decorate the gingerbread people who would be living within it. Without thinking, he had given one of the biscuits two green candy eyes and red frosting hair. It reminded him of Evans, and with a mischievous smile, he iced a small frown on her companion. The resemblance to Snape was uncanny.

"It could be worse," Remus replied to his father with a conspiratorial air, "Mum could have gotten into macramé. Then we'd both be drowning in yarn."

Lyall shuddered, "Muggles and their hobbies..."

"You know I can hear every word you're saying," Hope advised, though there was a smile on her lips.

Remus couldn't remember the last time he and his parents had passed an afternoon so comfortably. It wasn't merely his mother's baking or his father's playful teasing. Both of his parents seemed lighter since Remus began attending Hogwarts. Though it still pained him to think of how caring for him must have added to their stress over the years, their cheerful faces also served as a reminder of the good he was doing by submitting to a few awkward months away from home each year.

"Oh shoot," Hope muttered to herself. She had been searching among her pots and pans for another baking sheet, and emerged from the cupboard bearing a Bundt pan Remus had never seen before. "Forgot I borrowed this from Denise last week."

"Want me to go return it?" Lyall asked. He seemed eager for any excuse to get out of the current project.

"No, no. I'll just pop over and return it myself," Hope replied, already removing her apron with an alacrity that suggested she had other motives for paying this neighborly visit now. The pointed glance she directed at her husband added to this suspicion as she said, "You boys stay here and catch up. I'm sure you have a lot to talk about!"

With that, she had donned her coat and boots and was soon out the door.

"As far as excuses go, that was pretty weak," remarked Remus after a few seconds of silence.

"How do you mean?" asked Lyall.

Remus nodded toward the countertop. "She forgot the pan."

The Bundt pan remained on the counter, looking pristine and innocent.

Lyall chuckled and shook his head. "Your mother was never a good liar."

"So what did she want you and I to talk about?" asked Remus, pushing away his tray of gingerbread folk and eyeing his father with resignation.

Lyall, on the other hand, did not seem eager to begin what was sure to be an awkward conversation. He suddenly seemed quite engrossed in the gingerbread house, and for a moment or two didn't speak. Then, without warning, he abruptly stated, "Your mother and I are worried that you're struggling at school."

Remus had long been expecting something along these lines. His response was therefore quick. "But I am! You can ask any of my teachers. My marks are good, and I've been learning loads…"

"And we're thrilled that you're doing well, in that sense," Lyall interrupted in a gentle tone. "But there's more to school than academics, Remus, and I think you know that. If we had merely wanted you to be a good student, we could have hired a private tutor."

It suddenly became impossible to meet his father's eye. He glanced down into the green eyes of the ginger Evans instead.

"Remus, I don't want to pry. It's been a while since I was in school, but I still remember what it was like. I just want to know one thing… Tell me the truth, is anyone bullying you?"

For one wild moment, Remus considered telling him about Professor Squabs. But he knew it wasn't the faculty his father was worried about, it was the other students.

"No one's bullying me, dad," Remus lied.

For a moment, Lyall was silent. Remus, curious to see what brought on this sudden muteness, risked glancing up again. His father was watching him keenly, as though waiting for Remus to give something away. After holding his gaze for another moment, he sighed, and continued, "I won't force a confession from you if you're not ready to talk. Just know that your mother and I support you. If sending you to Hogwarts was the wrong decision…"

"It wasn't!" Remus insisted.

There must have been enough real emotion in his voice to convince his father of his sincerity, for the next moment, Lyall said, "Alright, alright! I understand. I'll tell your mother not to worry. Just… try to make some friends?"

Remus reluctantly nodded his head, though the gesture was wasted on his father, who at that exact moment managed to snap a wall of the gingerbread house in two.

"Oh, dragon pox!" Lyall cursed under his breath. Then, with a covert glance at Remus, he withdrew his wand and muttered, "Reparo."

The broken biscuit snapped back together, not a crumb out of place. Even better, the four walls were soon fixed neatly together, complete with a gingerbread roof and artful icing shingles.

Lyall gave his son a wink. "Don't tell your mother."