Remus could avoid the Marauders, or whatever it was that Potter and his friends were calling themselves these days. The full moon, on the other hand, could not be ignored. Through the months of September and October, he did a fair job of managing his symptoms. He had paid daily visits to Hagrid's cabin, assisting the gamekeeper with tending his herd of thestrals and the pumpkins he had been growing for Halloween that year. The fresh air and exercise did wonders for both his physical and mental health, but as an early frost settled in and the number of homework assignments grew, Remus spent less time outdoors, and more hours bent over textbooks in the library.
By the time the full moon rose in late November, Remus was feeling so ill that he missed three full days of class. He had spent Monday and Tuesday morning languishing in the hospital wing, too sick to return to his dormitory. In the evenings, he was practically dragged to the Whomping Willow, where he had only a few tattered, moth-eaten blankets to comfort him through his transformation.
Though he was in no danger of transforming again on Wednesday night, he remained in the hospital wing, fighting the urge to vomit with every strange smell that chanced to waft down the ward. He found himself wishing he were back home, under the careful nursing of his own mother, rather than the well-meant, but tiresome attentions of Madam Pomfrey.
He was especially aggravated that he had missed two Defense Against the Dark Arts lessons. Though his other professors sent him assurances that he would be granted extensions on any missed assignments, Professor Squabs allowed him no such accommodations. If it were merely an essay, Remus wouldn't worry. He had prioritized the homework for that particular class, and was well ahead of schedule. But they'd had an exam that afternoon, and Remus dreaded the necessity of asking for a make-up test.
In this pitiable state, he remained in bed, awaiting Madam Pomfrey's permission to leave while mentally drafting a note to Professor Squabs that would be appropriately humble in its request. It was then that he had a visitor. Two of them, in fact.
"Ta da!" sang Lily Evans as she dropped a small stack of parchment on his lap, "I've copied my charms notes for you, Remus! No need to thank me, even though you did fail to write me a single letter over the summer, and it would have been quite easy for me to forget all about you, and you should be begging for my forgiveness. But, see? I've already gotten over it!"
Her tone was playful, but he could hear the note of censure in her voice. A part of him felt a little guilty for having thrown her note away, but he refrained from showing it as he replied carelessly, "Sorry, I lost your address."
He could tell from the smirk on her face that she didn't believe him, but she was willing to let it pass. Her companion, however, was less magnanimous. Severus Snape, lurking silently over Evans' shoulder, directed such a look of surprise and loathing at Remus, it occurred to him that he was hearing of Remus's neglect for the first time. He seemed jealous of the particular attention he had been paid, and was shocked that anyone so blessed could fail to write to Lily Evans.
Remus was careful to avoid his accusatory gaze. He did not want to pursue the painful subject any further. He thanked Evans for the notes she had brought him, hoping his sincerity would help to smooth over the awkward pause in conversation.
Unfortunately, Snape was not as willing to forgive as Evans. With both his ire and his suspicions aroused, he pointedly observed, "You get sick a lot, don't you?"
Remus blushed, but before he could respond, Evans rescued him with a sharp glance at Snape.
"That's rude, Sev!" she scolded, "You're making him uncomfortable!"
Though her tone had been harsh, when she turned back to Remus, there was a smile on her face. Her voice was reassuring as she said, "Just ignore him, Remus. He's still learning his manners. What he meant to say is that he hopes you feel better soon… Right, Severus?"
She directed another warning look at her companion, who was quick to agree, "Absolutely. I only meant… Well…"
"You were worried about me?" Remus suggested helpfully.
He was being cruel. He was certain Snape didn't give a damn about him, just as he was sure Snape would resent the implication that he cared about anyone other than Evans. Still, he wanted to look good in front of his friend, and though he screwed up his face with indignation, he silently nodded his head.
It was a poor performance, but Evans was satisfied. And yet this was nothing compared to her delight when Snape handed Remus a stack of notes he had taken during Defense Against the Dark Arts.
"I can't tell you the answers for the exam, obviously," said Snape. "But if you like, I can tutor you. It might help to know what subjects to focus on."
Remus had always been an excellent student, but his performance in Defense Against the Dark Arts was suffering under Professor Squab's tutelage. No matter how hard he tried, his essays were always graded unfavorably by the professor, who seemed to set higher expectations for him over any other student. Snape, on the other hand, was becoming something of a teacher's pet. Evans was right when she described him as intelligent, and it was clear he excelled in this particular subject.
Though the offer surprised him, Remus was grateful. He intended to benefit from this rare display of kindness, even though he was sure Snape was motivated only by a desire to impress Evans.
Despite this conviction, he had to reassess his assumptions when Evans announced that she couldn't stay for the study session. She had agreed to meet with a few of her Gryffindor friends that afternoon.
"Sorry to run off so soon," she said, "But I promised Rebecca and Min that we'd go over that last potions lesson together. Do you want to join us, Sev? Slughorn's always saying you're his most talented student…"
"In second year, maybe," Snape replied, sounding almost bitter, "Not that it matters… I'd rather keep studying with Lupin."
Evans seemed shocked that he had declined her invitation, though she could not disguise how much she approved of the scheme. She even seemed to regret that she couldn't stay with them, if only to superintend Snape's efforts to forming a new friend.
Remus suspected an ulterior motive. Though he had refrained from any further mention of Remus's illness in Evans' presence, he had no doubt that Snape was still suspicious. His fears were confirmed when Snape, only a few minutes after Evans had left them alone, abruptly stated, "Is it a curse of some kind? This illness of yours?"
"I have a weak constitution," Remus said blandly. He had been prepared for some line of questioning, and had his answer ready.
"Do you?" said Snape, his eyes carefully trained on the page before him, on which he was checking over Remus's description of a banshee. "But you seem fine most of the time. Except when you miss random days of class. Seems to happen about once a month…"
Remus's face turned red again. Snape's tone was calm, but there was understanding behind him. He sensed that Snape, clever and secretive himself, had already guessed the truth.
Remus braced himself for what would come next. Perhaps Snape would threaten him. Tell him to stay away from Evans, or else he would spread the knowledge of what he was around the entire school, maybe even get him expelled…
Instead, Snape merely handed the parchment back to him and said, "That looks, alright. The bit comparing the banshee cry to that of a mandrake was good, but remember that banshees are closer to the fae than ghosts."
Remus accepted the paper with a murmur of thanks, wondering what Snape's motive could have been, if not to threaten him with exposure. Was he overreacting? Had Snape not guessed the truth, after all?
Madam Pomfrey arrived moments later, warning Snape that she needed to look over her patient again. While she hurried off toward her office, Snape began to pack up his notes and books. He paused, drawing the strap of his bookbag over his shoulder while he looked at Remus with a strange expression, as though he were working himself up to saying something important.
"You know," he said after some consideration. "I think of all of Lily's friends, I find you the most tolerable."
This was high praise, indeed. Remus was trying to think of something suitably complementary to say to Snape in turn when Madam Pomfrey came bustling toward them again, a few healing potions in hand, demanding that Snape be on his way.
Snape obeyed without a backward glance, leaving Remus uncertain how he felt about the interaction. Madam Pomfrey seemed to find nothing but what pleased her.
"It's nice to see you making friends," she commented.
Remus wasn't sure he considered being tolerated the same as friendship. He was equally uncertain if it was the sort of attention he wanted from Severus Snape.