Something loud, something unexpected, something stupid, and something fun.

Madam Pomfrey had given Remus a small piece of paper along with some balm and bandages before he left the next day. "What's this?" he asked, turning it over in his hand.

"Your prescription, remember? I expect to hear stories when you come back for the next full moon."

"Oh. You were serious about that?"

"Deadly serious. And, since you stayed in the Hospital Wing for nearly two weeks this month, you don't have much time. I'd recommend starting from the top. Do something loud today, all right?"

"You said them in a different order when you were talking to me yesterday," said Remus. "You started with fun yesterday."

"I've changed it, because I recognize that fun is going to be the hardest one. The rest are easy enough, but fun must inspire a genuine positive emotion, which I know you're having trouble with right now. So start with loud. That's a mostly-objective descriptive word, not an emotion."

"Couldn't I just walk into the Great Hall for a meal and call it loud?"

"No. It can't be passive—you shouldn't merely experience something loud; you have to be the one doing the loud thing. Besides, it has to be out-of-the-ordinary. Do something that you don't do every day, all right?"

"I don't go to the Great Hall every day. I didn't go yesterday."

"You know what I mean. You do want interesting stories to tell me next full moon, don't you?"

"Not really, but if you want them, then I may be forced to comply." Remus stared at the list for a few moments, silent. "Madam Pomfrey?" he finally asked.

"Yes?"

"What if I can't?"

"Then we make up what you missed in the Hospital Wing, and I assure you: you won't enjoy that very much. I'll even manage to do the last one whilst torturing you. So I recommend you do your best, Remus Lupin."

Remus nodded, throat thick and painful. "Thank you," he choked out, gripping the paper with both hands. "Before I go, maybe you should check my leg one more time to make sure I'm able to walk on it…."

"No," said Madam Pomfrey sternly. "Out."

"Fine," said Remus, in the hopes that Madam Pomfrey would keep him there for another five minutes (just like she'd used to do whenever he spoke the Forbidden Word). But she didn't, so Remus left, satchel in hand and Bufo firmly on his shoulder.

Stepping into the open corridor felt like jumping into a very cold pool—a sensation that Remus knew very well nowadays after swimming all summer with his friends. At first, it felt impossible. Staring at the pool, knowing how cold it was, knowing that Remus would be shivery and shaky if he went in… it was a thought so unpleasant that Remus wondered if he'd ever be able to do it.

"What do you think?" he asked Bufo.

Bufo croaked.

"All right," said Remus.

Jumping in the pool was always a little bit less unpleasant than thinking about it, and after swimming around for a couple of seconds, Remus felt warmer under the water than he did above it. It was the same way with the corridor: difficult at first, but then it slowly became more bearable, and all of a sudden, Remus almost didn't want to go back to the Hospital Wing.

Remus walked to the dormitory, ever so slowly, to put his things away. Did he really dread seeing his friends as much as he thought he did, or was it merely another swimming pool?

He opened the door.

"Hello?" he said. "I'm back."

"YOU'RE BACK!" cried James, and before Remus knew it, he was being yanked fully into the dormitory. "Feeling all right? How's your leg? Do you need to rest?"

Ordinarily, Remus hated it when James smothered him like this, but it felt different today. He was almost okay with being waited on; relished in being pitied. He didn't want to do anything for himself today at all. "Yes," he said. "I need to rest."

"Need us to bring you some food from the Great Hall so you can eat here before classes?"

"I already ate breakfast in the Hospital Wing," Remus lied. "Just come back here and wake me up when it's time for classes to begin, all right?"

"Okay!" said James cheerfully.

As soon as his friends were gone, Remus settled under his covers, shoes still on, and closed his eyes.

He'd do "something loud" tomorrow.

His friends were back in the room fifteen minutes later, and they had soup.

"Just let me sleep," Remus groaned. "I'm exhausted. I had a pretty bad bout of insomnia before being admitted to the Hospital Wing this month, so…"

Remus heard Sirius cross his arms. "Yeah, you can't fool us," came Sirius' voice. "Poppy found us in the Great Hall and told us everything. She said you'd try to run away. That's what you usually do."

"I do not. I'm not running away. I'm just resting."

"You lied," said James. "You told us you'd already eaten. She said you hadn't."

"Yeah, I lied. But is it really so bad if it hurts no one? It's a victimless crime. I'll be happier without food than with it, and it doesn't affect any of you whatsoever."

"Well, it does now that we know the truth. We brought you some soup. We know it's the easiest thing for you to stomach when you're nauseous."

Remus opened his eyes blearily. "I know you brought me soup. I have the senses of an animal, remember? I smelled it halfway down the corridor. It was in my dreams."

"We made sure it was plenty hot, just the way you like it."

"Thanks so much. You can leave it right there." Remus sat up and pointed.

"Where?"

"There."

"Looks like you're pointing to the rubbish bin, mate."

"Exactly!" With a sigh, Remus fell back onto his pillow and rubbed his face wearily. "Not right now. Later. I'll eat lunch, I promise. But right now I'm tired and nauseous, and I don't want to eat, please and thank you."

"Fine. But you're going to class."

"No, I'm not. Madam Pomfrey said I could spend the day in here."

"No, she didn't!"

"Worth a try."

"She told us everything, mate. Right down to that little checklist in your pocket, and we are going to complete every single one if it's the last thing we do. So up and at 'em, sunshine."

"Are you trying to torture me?"

"Yes," said Sirius.

"But not as much as you're trying to torture yourself," said James.

"Time for Charms," said Peter.

Remus pulled himself out of bed, even though his every molecule screamed in the process. "Time for Charms," he repeated.

A couple of people asked him where he'd been, which annoyed Remus immensely. "I was ill," he said a couple of times, a little less patiently every time the question was asked. Finally, when the fifth person asked, Remus could feel the ever-present frustration in the pit of his stomach threatening to make itself known. He was going to snap.

"Where were you?" asked the student again, but Remus wasn't answering (for fear of throwing the poor kid across the room with a Stunning Spell akin to the one he'd used on himself just twenty-four hours prior).

Peter placed a hand on Remus' in alarm, and James assumed his storytelling stance: a clear sign that he was about to get dramatic. "Imagine it," he said in a hushed voice that somehow commanded the attentions of tens of onlookers. "The Yeti prowled across the soft forest soil, hiding behind trees, picking off the villagers one by one. They lived in terror, those poor townspeople."

"Imagine it," repeated Sirius. "You're a poor villager—a seven-year-old girl with plaits in her hair and a pink frock. You skip through the forest next to your father, picking flowers and whatnot. You're adorable and innocent."

James put his hand over his heart. "Aw, thanks, Sirius. I didn't know you felt that way about me."

"Shut up," said Sirius. "Anyway. You're a little girl, just like James, and you see a beautiful leaf… you lean over to pluck it up and examine its colors, and then…"

"You look back at your father," continued James, "and he's gone. Nothing is left. He's just disappeared. You cry, but he's nowhere to be found. What could have happened to him?"

Sirius picked it back up. "I'll give you a hint: a Yeti happened to him! The Yeti hid in the trees and plucked your father right up, eating him wholly and silently. You cry harder, because you know you're next."

"And then," said James, "you hear a noise. It's the sound of…."

"A scrawny, whiny boy named Remus Lupin."

"Gee, thanks," said Remus.

James threw out his arms. "He jumps out of the trees with a sword, just like the kind that Muggles used to use in wars and whatnot! He shakes a tree with surprising, hidden strength, and a Yeti drops from the branches! He stabs the Yeti, directly in the heart, and blood flows out—a river of victory and triumph! He slashes the stomach of the Yeti, and your father crawls out, entirely unharmed! Your village is safe! Your father is free! Your future is preserved! All thanks to Remus Lupin: Yeti Killer!"

There was uproarious cheering, and Remus gave James a death glare.

"Oi, Lupin!" shouted a kid in the back row (because now, the small crowd had turned into quite a large one). "You fought a Yeti? That's where you were for the last couple of weeks?"

"No," said James. "He was ill. I didn't say he fought a Yeti. I said to imagine he fought a Yeti, because it's far more interesting than what really happened. And Yetis don't hide in trees, nor are they very silent. But if you all insist on being fun-sucking Dementors, then no. Of course he didn't fight a Yeti. Do you see how tiny and weak he is? He wouldn't last eight seconds with a Yeti!"

"I don't think that's funny," said Remus.

"It's not funny," agreed Sirius. "It's hilarious. If Remus Lupin were to get into a fight with a flea, it would be a very unfair fight." He leaned forward, grinning. "Because the flea would have a massive advantage!"

There was more laughter, and Remus rolled his eyes. "You're right," he said. "A flea would be pretty hard to aim at. Fortunately for you, you're a very easy target. Flipendo!"

Sirius flew toward a wall. Just as he was about to hit it, Remus cast a quick nonverbal Freezing Spell, and Sirius was immobilized in midair. "Could a flea do that?" Remus said.

There was more uproarious cheering; Remus, though he didn't often like to be the center of attention, felt slightly rejuvenated. "I believe we have Charms next," he said calmly, and James and Peter, giggling, followed him to Flitwick's classroom.

They heard a thump behind them as the spell wore off and Sirius fell harmlessly to the ground. "You liar!" Sirius shouted. "You could fight a Yeti!"

Remus nearly smiled. "Not a Yeti, no, but I sure can fight a Sirius."

"Something loud," Remus whispered, chewing the end of his quill. "Did that count as 'something loud', do you think?"

Peter shook his head. "No. You weren't being very loud. Prongs and Padfoot were sometimes, but you weren't."

"How am I supposed to do 'something loud' without getting in trouble? I already have a detention with Professor Dumbledore day after tomorrow."

"You do? For what?"

"I, erm… it's a long story."

James leaned in, and Remus jumped. "Don't get caught," said James with a devilish grin. "Or do get caught, because detentions really aren't all that bad."

"Come on, Prongs, don't be so stupid—"

Flitwick cleared his throat, and Remus looked up in alarm. "Quiet down, please, Lupin," he said.

Remus felt his face heating up; despite the fire spreading through his cheeks, he managed to nod. "Yes, sir."

"Now, if you'd open your textbooks to page fifty-two…"

Remus looked at James, who was grinning broadly. "So much for not getting caught," Remus said. "Did that count as something loud? Professor Flitwick told me I was being too loud, after all."

"No," said James, and then Remus shut up.

Predictably, Professor Flitwick asked to see Remus alone after class. The classroom cleared out, and then Flitwick sat across from Remus with a smile.

"I know, Professor," said Remus. "You were worried about me, and you told Madam Pomfrey. You weren't the only one. There were three others."

Flitwick's smile disappeared. "I didn't realize she'd told you it was me."

"I asked. I'm fine, by the way—just a little bit tired, that's all. I'm working on it."

Flitwick sighed. "I'm not sure I believe you, but it's not my business."

At first, Remus was thankful; then, he was angry. The words rose to the surface before he could even stop them, like bubbles in the swimming pool. "If it's not your business," he said, "then why did you tell Madam Pomfrey that I was depressed?"

"I didn't," said Flitwick. "Her diagnosis is completely independent from the fact that I told her you weren't turning in your homework, weren't participating in class, and weren't talking to your friends. As your teacher, I was concerned. I did my duty and reported it, and I will not apologize for that."

There was a long silence.

"Okay," said Remus quietly. "I'm sorry."

"Whatever for?"

"For talking back, sir."

"I don't mind. I know this is terribly unpleasant for you, based on the way Madam Pomfrey is treating you."

"Yeah. I feel a little bit like a bug under a microscope right now. Feels like everyone is watching me."

"Well," said Flitwick, somewhat nervously, "if it makes you feel better, I didn't keep you back to talk about how you're feeling. I wanted to know if you were planning on joining the Duelling Club again this year."

Remus smiled—a genuine, excited smile—for the first time in a while. "You're starting it up again? I thought it would be disbanded when Professor Dilley… er… became incapacitated."

"Of course I'm starting it up again. As Dark activity rises, I think students need to know how to protect themselves, don't you?"

"Yeah, of course!"

"But I do need someone to help me run it. I asked Professor Manard, but his leg has been bothering him recently, and he doesn't think he'll be up to the physical exertion. So… how do you feel about helping me run it?"

"Seriously?"

"Seriously."

"But… I'm fourteen years old."

"You were trained by one of the best duellists in the world in your first year, and you've practiced every chance you could get since then. You're well qualified to be on the national duelling team, as we proved last year."

Remus grimaced. Flitwick had scheduled him for a tryout, and the examiner had been completely ready to let him proceed in the audition process… until he'd learned that Remus was a werewolf, after which the whole thing had fallen apart.

"I'm not as qualified as some of the other professors, sir."

"First of all, they're busy. Second of all… I believe you are well qualified, actually. A couple of them would have a very hard time beating you in a duel."

"That can't be true."

"I'm not lying. Now, the ones who specialize in duelling—sure, you wouldn't stand a chance. But Professor Sprout? Sidus? Slughorn? You could absolutely win. Remus, I've sometimes found it difficult to beat you, and I'm a national champion. You have a gift, and I hear you're a good teacher."

Remus couldn't help but smile. He wasn't used to being complimented in such a way, and the idea that he could beat some professors in a duel was absurdly wonderful. It wasn't something he'd even considered before. He cleared his throat and asked, "What would I need to do?"

"Demonstrate techniques with me at the beginning of the meeting, step in if someone's about to get hurt, help plan lessons, and give advice to people while they're duelling. And of course I'll spar with you whenever you want to keep your own skills sharp!"

"Wow, I… but… I'm not free all the time."

"I am perfectly capable of scheduling meetings around the full moon, so long as you don't end up spending nearly two weeks in hospital after every one."

"Yeah… wow. Thank you, Professor."

"So what do you say?"

"Yes, sir. Sure. That would be great."

"Wonderful. Now, you need to get to your next class—Ancient Runes, if I'm not mistaken—here, I'll write you a pass. How would you feel about meeting me sometime after the next full moon to work out the details about the first club meeting?"

"That would be excellent. Thank you."

They stood up, and Flitwick shook Remus' hand (no matter that Remus had to bend down significantly to reach it). "I'm sure it'll be a pleasure to work with you," said Flitwick. "Now go to class."

As Remus sat in Ancient Runes that day, translating a long fairy story about dragons and pygmy puffs, he realized that he felt excited about something for the first time in weeks. Not terribly excited—it still felt a bit like a chore—but he could see the good in it as clear as day.

It was a little like fuel in a car, he decided. Something good—something big—something prospective and wonderful had happened, and now Remus had enough fuel to get himself through the day without feeling utterly empty inside. Perhaps that was what Madam Pomfrey was trying to do. She was trying to give Remus a purpose, give him something to look forward to, give him a challenge… all in the hopes that he would have enough fuel to stop feeling like there was nothing in the world to look forward to.

Madam Pomfrey had been right. Now that Remus had gotten started on the path to recovery, he suddenly felt more motivated to get himself all fixed and healthy.

Things were going to be all right… at least until he ran out of fuel.

"Something loud," declared James that evening. "Oh, Moony, I have just the thing."

"What is it?" asked Remus.

James grinned. "So, there I was, sitting alone in Muggle Studies, flipping through the textbook. You know, I told Sirius to pick up that class last summer so I wouldn't be the only one taking it, but that utter prat refused. Anyway, I was flipping through the textbook, and I came a picture of Mozart."

"Mozart?"

"Yeah, Mozart. He wrote Moonlight Sonata, which is that piece on the piano that you can play really well, right, Moony?"

"Erm. No, that was Beethoven. I wouldn't say really well, Prongs. I can play a simplified version of the first movement."

"Okay, fine. That's not the point. The point is that, if we get here early enough tomorrow, then I'm sure we can move a piano into the Hall before anyone comes in… and then you have yourself a little concert hall!"

"What?!" Remus felt his eyes nearly bug out of his head. "No, James! I'm not even that good at piano!"

"Nonsense," said Sirius. "I've been helping you all summer. You're not bad at all. Not as good as me, granted, but…"

"The teachers will stop me before I get one note out."

James was shaking his head. "Incorrect. You're depressed, Moony-mine, and the suicide rate amongst werewolves is disturbingly high. They'll let you do whatever you want!"

Remus' eyebrows nearly shot off his forehead. "What? Prongs, that's not something to joke about."

"I'm not joking. I'm serious. They really will let you do whatever you want, and I'll bet Poppy has told half of them about that little list of yours. Come on, Moony! It'll cause such a delightful ruckus."

"You're an attention addict."

"And you're a misery addict. Look at the four of us, balancing each other out so perfectly. You can play whatever you want, Moony. The rest of us will even join in if it'll make you more comfortable… just like those music pranks we pulled in first and second year!"

"Let's play a duet," said Sirius. "You can play the melody on the right end, and I'll play chords and bass on the left end. We'll play Hippo Hop, by Dave Hippo. It's plenty loud."

"We've never played Hippo Hop."

"We'll improvise. We're good at that."

"You're good at that. I'm not."

"I'll pull out my magical electric guitar!" cheered James. "Still have that recorder, Wormtail?"

"Absolutely," said Peter, beaming.

Remus shook his head. "We're actually doing this, aren't we?" he asked.

"But of course, Moony," said James with a grin. "If anything will make you happy again, it's Dave Hippo's Hippo Hop!"

Remus did three things the next day that he had never done before and did not have any desire to do again.

First, he found himself helping his friends levitate a piano into the Great Hall at three in the morning. James and Sirius were doing the actual levitating (such a heavy object took two of them), Remus was giving them directions and making sure they didn't bump into anything, and Peter was following ahead and clearing things out of the way.

"Oh, no," Remus whispered.

James nearly dropped the piano. "What is it?"

"Mrs. Norris is coming down the corridor, and Filch isn't far behind."

"What are we going to do?!" whispered Peter.

"Er… Reducio on three, Prongs. One, two… Reducio!"

Immediately, the piano shrunk to the size of a mouse. Sirius picked it up and put it in his pocket while James pulled the Cloak out of his pocket and threw it over all four of them, leaning against the wall to cover their back (which wasn't completely covered by the Cloak).

Filch came by half a moment later. "There's no one here, Mrs. Norris," he said sleepily. "Your nose has failed you yet again. Let's go back to my office and have a little nap."

They left.

Two minutes passed.

"Okay, they're gone," said Remus. "Whew. That was a close one."

"Does anyone care to explain to me," said James loudly, "why none of us thought to shrink the piano in the first place?!"

They stared at the mouse-sized bulge in Sirius' pocket. "Erm," said Remus. "At least we've thought of it now?"

Needless to say, the rest of the way to the Great Hall wasn't nearly as complicated.

The second thing that Remus had never imagined himself doing was the midnight practice session he had with James in the Great Hall. They made sure to magically Soundproof the whole Hall well, and then James put on the Dave Hippo record and found Hippo Hop. Remus and Sirius listened intently.

"You hear that chord?" Sirius said. "Right there. I think it'll sound great if we both play it. You can play it in the higher octave… except add an A, okay? And play it with both right and left hand. It'll sound amazing."

Sirius kept jumping in with "pedal here" and "add a lick there" and "switch here and let me do the upper part; I have the best idea!". Remus didn't think he would be able to remember everything, but it was nice seeing Sirius so happy.

For the next hour and a half, Remus and Sirius sat at the piano and worked out the best arrangement of Hippo Hop that Remus had ever heard (well, it was mostly Sirius who worked out the arrangement, but Remus suggested a harmony that Sirius really liked). They played it again and again, perfecting it, and James and Peter even worked out some choreography.

"This is going to be so much fun!" James shouted over the heavy piano chords.

Remus stopped playing. "No," he said with a smile, "it's going to be loud. Fun isn't till last."

The thought comforted him somehow, and he found the strength to do one more run with Sirius before going to bed.

The third thing that Remus never thought he'd do was Disillusion a piano, bring it back to its typical opaqueness in the middle of a meal, and play Hippo Hop for the entire school.

Unsurprisingly, no one stopped them. Dumbledore even stood up and led the school in a sing-along, which was fairly characteristic of Dumbledore, and then he awarded ten points to Gryffindor (vexing Remus' friends, who very much wanted to be in negative points by the end of the year).

It was still a chore. It was still exhausting. It didn't make Remus happy, necessarily, even though it was much easier to pretend than it had used to be. It was tiring, just like everything else was, and it was clear that Remus was not completely healed.

But at least it was loud.