Author's note: CW gore in reference to the leg thing

X

Remus decorated the little tree his friends had left him. There were loads of decorations under James's bed, including a small box marked 'tree topper'. He opened it to find a round picture frame with a photo of the four of them inside. He attached it to the top of the tree, grinning at their laughing faces, already missing his friends.

After a long nap, he took all his homework assignments down to the library to work on them, marveling at the utter silence. It was like when a Quidditch game was going on. Except this was going to last two weeks.

There were a few other students at the castle. Mostly older ones. Fifth years and seventh years especially, studying carefully for their O. and N.E. . But there were so few there that the four house tables had been removed from the Great Hall when he went in for supper; there was only the High Table and then one long table where students were already taking seats. He hesitated before taking his own seat by himself. It was silly to prepare four full tables when there weren't even enough students to fill one table, but it still seemed strange to him.

Other than a couple of first and second years, he was the youngest one remaining. Not a single fellow third year was staying back. He didn't know a soul in the castle…

Well, that wasn't entirely true. He knew souls: the ghosts. He'd have people to talk to, at least.

He went back to his dorm where he put one of James's records on, since his friend had left the player with explicit instructions to use it when he wanted to. He sat down on the floor and opened up Miss Fawley's parcel. He had only glimpsed through when it first arrived the previous morning and hadn't really seen much. But as he pulled the gifts out he knew Fawley had spent more money on them than he had given her. His stomach dropped a little, and he frowned. He'd write to her about this.

He sang along to the music as he wrapped the presents up, doing his best to write their names neatly on the little labels. Once that was done he stood up, not sure what to do now. He looked around the dorm, feeling so lost. At home he'd be in the cellar by this point… probably staring at Arthur's perch and feeling unhappy. Or his mother would be crying onto him.

He had gotten another letter from her a couple of days ago, a heart-wrenching missive with dark spots everywhere, indicating she had cried as she wrote to him yet again. The letter beseeched him one last time to come home for the holidays, stating she'd be happier with him than going on holiday. If his father hadn't been so demanding, Remus would have definitely given in. He replied he understood, but he really wanted her to have a special holiday, and he still wanted time 'to think'. He hoped she would have fun, or at least try to. If she cried about him the entire holiday, his father was going to be upset. But he was doing what his father wanted.

Sighing and pushing aside thoughts about his parents, he flopped into bed and began knitting his present for Miss Fawley. Originally it was going to be a shawl but… he needed something bigger now, to thank her. A shawl and perhaps a throw? A pillowcase?

He thought about using the night sky yarn James had given him forever ago, however while it looked very pretty it only felt like regular yarn, and he wanted to give her something that felt soft, that had a really pleasant texture to it. He had some soft yarn though not enough to make an entire shawl out of… so instead he used that to make a little round case for a small pillow. He'd have to figure something else out for the shawl.

Eventually he began yawning, which made him realize he didn't need to adhere to any schedule. He turned the player off, went to the lavatory to get ready for bed, and then… well, went to bed. It was early but he had two weeks of nothing to do. It didn't matter.

X

He kept hearing his father's voice telling him he was a monster. For being a werewolf and for abandoning his mother. He cried out, trying to say that Lyall had wanted him to stay for the holidays. Then suddenly his father was right there, strangling him. He grabbed his father's hands, trying to get free but his wolf strength had disappeared.

Monster, monster, monster, his father hissed, squeezing tighter and tighter, cutting off all airflow. Remus began clawing at his father to get him to stop. His nails turned into long wolf claws and Lyall screamed as Remus ripped into him, turning into a wolf as he did so. He shredded his father's body, biting into it and ripping off hunks of flesh and eating them. Eating his father.

MONSTER! his father screamed one last time as Remus reached down with a claw, ripping out his jugular and watching the blood spray everywhere.

There was blood on Remus's hands when he woke up screaming. He had clawed at himself, ripping the buttons off his top and tearing into his own chest. He sat upright in bed, panting as he stared at his hands. He was about to get up to wash off when he heard noises in the hallway. His head snapped up and he realized with horror he hadn't fully shut the door after he came back from the loo.

He managed to get his blanket wrapped around himself to hide the blood when there was a tap at the door, and it creaked open.

"Uh, hello?"

A boy poked his head in. Remus recognized him as the fourth year; Longbottom.

"We heard screaming."

Oh, Merlin, Remus thought miserably, shrinking back on his bed as Longbottom turned on the light and looked at him. There were two others behind him, peering over his shoulders.

"S-sorr—sor-s-sss-—sorry—" Remus managed to wheeze out. "N-n-nightm-mare." How come he hadn't shut the door all the way? Was that something he did often? He couldn't remember, never paid attention. He hadn't shut his curtains either, because he figured he didn't need to. The door had a spell on it… which didn't work because it had been very slightly cracked open and a bunch of boys had heard him screaming. "Did—didn—didn't—didn't—"

"It's all right," Longbottom said, glancing around the room. "Um. Are you alone?"

"It w-was—was a—a nightmare," he said again, assuming Longbottom was worried someone had hurt him.

Longbottom looked at him again, his deep brown eyes piercing into Remus. "No. I know. I meant. Um. Your—"

The redhead behind him—Weasley—tugged at his sleeve. "C'mon, Frank, let's go."

"Shh!" Longbottom slapped Weasley's hand away. "Your friends went home?" he asked Remus.

He clutched the blanket tighter around him, terrified they could see the blood. Smell it. "Yes."

"Come on," Weasley said again.

"I am sorry f-for—for w-waking—erm—waking you."

The fair-haired boy behind Longbottom, the one whose name Remus didn't know, grinned. "You didn't, we've been up playing cards." He had a very Irish accent.

"Which we should bloody get back to and let the little kid sleep," Weasley grumbled. "I had a damn good hand!"

Longbottom ran his fingers through his hair. "Right. Erm, hey, if you need anything we're just down the hall, two doors down. Feel free to uh, erm, knock or anything if—if you need anything, all right?"

Remus nodded, pretending he hadn't heard the entire conversation they just had. Pretending that he hadn't heard himself being called a little kid. "Th-thank you," he mumbled, since he didn't know what else to say in the situation, he just wanted them gone.

Longbottom gave him another smile before Weasley yanked him out of the room. The fair-haired boy gave Remus a look before disappearing, shutting the door behind him.

Remus breathed out, shoving the now-bloodied blanket away from him so he could inspect his chest. It had mostly healed up by that point, only a few pink scars were visible under the blood.

Blast it all. He got out of bed, shoving the bloodied blanket and his torn shirt into the laundry basket. After waiting several minutes to make sure the fourth years had gone to their dorm, he crept into his bathroom to clean off. After, in clean pajamas and no scars left at all, he curled back up with Gwyllgi. He had made sure the door was firmly shut, but kept his curtains open; he figured that would be fine. Plus this way he could look at the tree he decorated, and the other trees.

He hoped he wouldn't have another nightmare but he did, of his father again, and his mother sobbing. She cried through most of his dreams that night and when he woke up the next morning he could still hear it echoing in his head.

He wiped his eyes off, feeling strange as he got up. The room was so empty… he looked around at the beds. David and Spinnet had closed their curtains, but the Marauders had left theirs open. He started to go towards Sirius's bed then swerved, going to James's bed instead. He sat down, running his fingers across the bedspread and inhaling his friend's scent.

Two weeks, he thought as he got ready for the day, feeling achingly lonely. This is going to be harder than I thought.

X

Remus's first full day alone was even longer than Saturday. He kept changing what he was doing, unable to really focus on any one thing. He spent some time reading, doing homework, in the library, wandering the halls, talking to the ghosts, and napping. Eventually he wrote letters to his friends and also one to his mother which would make her hopefully feel better. When he went to the owlery, though, it took him a long time to wrangle four owls willing to come near enough to attach the letters. They all left as quickly as they could, not wanting to stay another second in his presence.

Missing Arthur now, he went down for supper. He sat by himself, as close to the door as he could get, head ducked down as he reread A Secret Garden, because of his feelings from the day before. He just got to the bit where she was meeting Martha for the first time (his favorite character) when someone sat down next to him. He glanced up, eyes wide to see Longbottom sitting next to him, and Weasley and the fair-haired boy across from him.

They had sat down as if it were the most normal thing in the world, and in fact Weasley was continuing some story while the other two filled their plates, passing the condiments back and forth. Then Longbottom looked at Remus and asked him to pass the butter. Remus reached out, nervously pushing the butter dish over.

"You don't mind if we sit here, do you?" Longbottom asked as he spread butter onto his potato jacket.

What was he supposed to say? They had already made themselves comfortable. "N-no," he whispered, shrinking a little, and wishing he had eaten in his dorm. He figured they had joined him out of pity. The poor little kid, all alone, no friends. Ugh. He wanted to tell them he was fine, he preferred being alone right now, but he kept his mouth shut.

"—better if I didn't sing which come on, I've got a lovely singing voice," Weasley said.

The fair-haired boy choked on nothing. "You sound like a toad that's been trodden on."

"Oh, shut up you sod!" Weasley gave him a shove. "So I told her I was only trying to brighten the mood and she said it's fucking detention, the mood doesn't need to be brightened. Twaddled beans if you ask me. If I'm going to clean the entire classroom, I can jolly well sing about it as I do."

"And what were you singing exactly?" Longbottom asked. Weasley began putting food on his plate, sniffling loudly. "Hmmm? Were you singing something nice or were you singing something rude."

"Something nice," Weasley protested. "A Muggle song, actually, which you know." He didn't elaborate on that.

Longbottom snorted, pointing his butter knife at the fair-haired boy. "Galleon says it was that Pussycat song."

He didn't even look up from his food. "I'm not taking that bet, I'd lose. It was definitely the pussycat song."

Weasley went red. "All right, it might've been the pussycat song but you know, McGonagall should be flattered." He turned to Remus without warning. "That was bloody hilarious by the way. Absolutely brilliant."

"Quin shares your friends' desire to make McGonagall angry," the fair-haired boy explained.

"Not angry!" Weasley argued. "It's a bloody compliment!"

Remus began eating again, wondering how quick he could make his escape. He considered simply picking his book back up to read but thought that'd be rude, so he didn't. Until Weasley motioned toward it, asking what it was.

"It's called a book, Quin," the fair-haired boy said slowly, as if to a child.

Remus choked on his food while Weasley punched the boy's shoulder. "Fuck off!"

Longbottom smacked Remus's back. "You all right?"

"Uhhh-hhhuhh," he drew out, coughing into a napkin now. "Yes." He seized his glass of water, carefully taking a few sips. Once he calmed down he said, "It's, erm, it's—it's—it's M-Muggle." He tried to find the right words to explain, but his tongue was thick and the words were caught in his throat. "Orphan g-girl moves—moves in with—with uncle and—th-there's this garden…" Suddenly he felt utterly stupid for reading a kid's book in the Great Hall. But the three of them were looking at him with interest, or at least feigned enough interest to appear actually interested. He explained the plot of the book loosely, hoping it didn't sound too childish.

"Sounds like your kind of book," the fair-haired one said to Longbottom. Then to Remus he said, "He's got a green thumb."

"Painted it myself," Longbottom joked, and Remus couldn't help but give a little giggle at that one.

"Everyone's got to be good at at least one thing," said Weasley as he sipped his drink. "Frank's so damned ugly he's got to have something to make up for it."

"Whereas you have absolutely nothing going for you," replied Longbottom easily.

"I'm bloody gorgeous," Weasley said, sounding so much like Sirius that Remus suddenly remembered they were somehow related, though he couldn't remember how exactly.

Longbottom snorted while the fair-haired boy said, "Debatable. Very debatable."

"Get rid of the 'eb' and you got it," said Weasley.

Both Longbottom and the other one looked confused at that. "No idea what you're going on about, mate," said Longbottom with a shake of his head.

"Date-able," Remus muttered and all three looked at him. He swallowed, feeling embarrassed about jumping into the conversation out of nowhere and wished he hadn't. "W-without the—the—without—without the 'eb' it wou—it would be d-date-able."

"Shorty's got it," Weasley said proudly.

"I am sorry," said the fair-haired boy (Remus really needed to learn his name). "I had no idea you knew enough about the English language other than swears to make that sort of joke. Ow!" he yelped when Weasley hit him again, but then dissolved into giggles.

The three of them continued on like that, sometimes sounding so much like the Marauders that Remus kept almost joining in; only he'd remember last second, and keep his opinions to himself. Besides, they were fourth years. They only sat with him out of pity, not because they were actually interested in anything he had to say.

When he finished his supper and stood to leave, Longbottom turned to him. "Want to play cards with us? We could use a fourth for Sphinx."

He nearly said yes. Pity, it's just pity, he reminded himself. "Th-thank you but no," he said. "But—but thank you."

He went to his dorm and locked the door behind him, because he wasn't sure how far they would go out of their pity. They'd hopefully forget about him the next day.

X

Remus had terrible nightmares all night. He screamed and thrashed about and got tangled up in his blankets. Finally he dragged his blankets, pillow, and Gwyllgi under his bed and slept there, a little more soundly. When morning came he left his nest there, figuring he might as well sleep under his bed for the rest of the holidays.

He got dressed in very warm clothing as well as his winter cloak, then swung by the kitchens for some food. He packed everything away in his satchel before sneaking to one of Filch's closets. It unlocked with a spell and he took a bucket of strong cleaning solution which he hid under his cloak as he went outside.

It was snowing but not quickly enough to cover his tracks so he used a spell to erase his footprints as he headed to the Whomping Willow. He kept glancing over his shoulders, hoping nobody was watching. He kept feeling like someone was, however that was probably the guilt of sneaking out.

He could smell the blood before he even opened the trapdoor, along with another smell which he knew immediately was his… leg. Taking in a deep breath, he shoved open the trapdoor and pulled himself up. He sat on the edge, clutching the bucket of cleaning solution while he stared in horror at his house.

There was blood everywhere. More than he could ever imagine. It painted the walls and coated the floor. There were drag marks, paw prints, and—

My leg.

He stared at the discarded wolf leg partially under the couch. His stomach churned as he pulled his own, human legs out of the trapdoor and shut it.

Oh Merlin, he thought as he crawled over, reaching with a trembling hand. He had once come to pick up a finger he had chewed off, but this was… so much worse.

He yelped when his fingers brushed against the blood-matted fur, then he grit his teeth as he grabbed the leg. It felt so heavy. And it looked so weird. He couldn't help but pull up his pant leg to look at his human leg compared to the wolf leg. It was huge. He knew he was enormous as a wolf but this was—this was something else.

He put the paw against his hand, wincing at the size. The claws were long, wicked-looking… deadly. He used one to scratch at the floor, digging a groove in. It could easily tear into someone's flesh and, curious, he pressed the claw against his own palm, crying out when it easily sliced through. He dropped his… leg… and sucked at the wound, expecting it to heal up immediately. He was confused when it kept bleeding, and he stared at the bright red blood dripping down.

It took several seconds for him to realize that it wasn't healing quickly because it was his wolf's claw. Dark magic. He watched the blood slide farther down his hand then slowly went to the bathroom to wash the blood off. He stared blankly at his reflection, brain buzzing almost out of control. He felt as though he might pop out of his own body any second.

Everything felt so wrong.

He turned off the tap and dried his hands off; there was still a cut on his finger but it wasn't bleeding anymore. Still, he wrapped it in a bandage before returning to the living room.

All right. He rolled his shoulders and stood up, taking off his cloak and his second jumper. He folded these up and put them in the kitchen where there wasn't much blood at all. He also wrapped the leg up in a towel and stuck it in the bathtub for the time being.

Should have brought a radio, he thought as he began cleaning. The potion did a decent job of getting up most of the blood, but even after a couple of hours of scrubbing there were still remnants of blood on the floors and walls. Not as bad as it had been, at least.

He took a long break, eating the food the house-elves had given him and reading one of the books he had brought with him. Once his exhaustion wore off he began cleaning again. By the time he used up the entire bucket of solution, almost all of the blood was gone. Some of the stains remained, but he was satisfied with his work.

Soaked in sweat and smelling of cleaning stuff, he returned to the castle with his towel-wrapped leg under his cloak. He erased his footprints going from the Willow back to the castle and, feeling even sicker than he did when he saw the house, he went to Slughorn's office.

X

Four galleons.

He had sold his two-week-old dead, blood-covered, severed leg to Slughorn for four galleons, which was probably a hundred galleons less than what he could have gotten… but… he really didn't want anything. He just wanted to be rid of the thing. He had considered burying it like he did with his finger, but he didn't like the idea of leaving a whole werewolf leg in the Forbidden Forest, even buried.

Slughorn's greed-filled eyes had shone with truth when he promised absolute discretion about the leg. Remus knew he would be. He probably wouldn't even give it to anyone else, he'd probably simply use it for himself in his own potions. Or maybe just… have as a trophy. Which was even more disgusting, but it wasn't his anymore.

"Please don't tell the other teachers, either," Remus had asked, and Slughorn promised nobody in the school would know. Only them.

Remus went to his dorms and went straight for a hot shower, scrubbing himself so many times his skin grew raw for a few seconds. He felt dirty and disgusting… absolutely vile and… loathsome. He wanted to run back to Slughorn and take his… leg… back… but what would he do with it? Nothing. He couldn't do anything with it, unless he buried it; which he already knew he didn't feel comfortable doing.

But he had sold it.

Merlin, what had he done? Why hadn't he thought through the situation? What was wrong with him?!

He scrubbed himself off again, threw up in the shower, cleaned that up, and then, after getting dressed, penned a letter to Miss Fawley telling her everything and asking for her advice. He also apologized for sending this sort of letter at Christmastime, which reminded him that it was, in fact, Christmas Eve that day.

My first Christmas without my parents, he thought as he headed to the owlery. He felt strange. Sort of distant. Not himself. A little part of him regretted agreeing with his father, and suddenly he wanted his mother. He clutched the letter tightly, a tear dripping down his cheek as he thought of his mother… wherever she was. He didn't know when they were going on their holiday, so he wasn't sure if she was at home or somewhere else. Still, he missed her deeply even with everything that happened. If only there had been a way to spend Christmas with her.

Just them, and not his father.

X

The trio of Gryffindors sat with him at supper again. It felt rather awkward, even though they were casual about it and didn't drag him into any conversation; it was as if they simply decided to sit around him. Still, as soon as he finished his supper he turned down their offer of cards, and ran to the library. He spent the rest of the evening there, checked out several books, and then tottered up to the Gryffindor tower trying to keep hold of the stack of books while regretting not bringing his satchel.

After a couple hours of studying and working on homework, Remus tried to go to sleep in his bed again. Like the night before, he had vicious nightmares that woke him up, screaming and panting and begging for the figures in his nightmares to stop. He crawled back under his bed where he had more nightmares until, feeling weak, he stole a pillow each from his friends' beds and surrounded himself with their scents.

His nightmares subsided after that, and he woke up on Christmas morning feeling a little more rested than he expected. Something else he didn't expect were the presents at the foot of his bed, after he pulled himself out from under it. Huh? The Marauders were exchanging their presents after the holidays, and he wasn't supposed to have anything from his parents.

There were four parcels. One book-shaped one from Lily (of course), one from Aegis (of course), one from his mother which made him frown (they weren't doing presents this year!), and one from FQC which confused the hell out of him. Fancy… Quality… Cows? Forgotten… Questions… C… a… ts? What did it mean?

He set that one aside for last and opened up the other three. The one from Lily was A Wind In The Door by the same author who had written A Wrinkle In Time, and he grew excited when he read it was a sequel! From Aegis, a candle. He turned it over and over in his hands before reading the note.

This is a candle that has focusing ingredients mixed in. When you burn it, it helps you stay on your task. I do not know how easily distracted you are while doing homework, I assume much less than I am, however I was not sure what sort of book to get you. I hope you like this.

Remus smiled and set it aside, not sure how he felt. It would really depend on the scent… but he was very grateful nonetheless.

His mother had knitted him a little throw. Included was a letter which said she knew they weren't 'doing presents', but she couldn't not get him anything. He was her baby boy, she needed to do something.

Now for you. He picked the FQC present up and immediately knew it was a box of every flavor beans. He ripped open the wrapping, trying to find a note and not being able to. He stared at the beans as if they could answer his question for him. Who? What? Why? Maybe it was someone who hated him and sent him a box of disgusting flavors…? Except no, it was a regular box. He opened it up and gave a cautious sniff. They smelled like a regular box of every flavor beans…

Taptaptap!

He jumped at the sudden sound, dropping the box which sent several beans rolling around. He swore, quickly brushing them back into the box before going over to the window where Godric was waiting, shivering as snow fell on him.

"Hallo," Remus said as he opened the window. Godric eyed him carefully as he stuck his leg out. Remus took the letter and Godric flew into James's bed, perching on the headboard and cleaning the wet from his feathers. Inside the envelope was a very long letter from all three Marauders, written on the train. It was full of jokes and plans and 'we miss you's even though they hadn't been apart very long at that point.

He read through the letter, carefully drinking in every word before he realized he had left the window open. Now he was shivering. He folded the letter up to put in his desk, shut the window, and went to get dressed for the day. Except his plans to have a quick brunch and return to his dorm were quickly shoved aside when he went into the common room and was waylaid by a Prefect who told him McGonagall needed to see him.

"Can't believe I have to do this on Christmas," the Prefect complained before storming off.

What, wait a little bit for me? Remus wondered as he left, trying not to let the bitterness in the Prefect's voice get to him. What does McGonagall need? Did something happen? I wasn't out past curfew… oh, did she somehow find out I went to the house in Hogsmeade? Only Slughorn knows, and he wouldn't say anything—not with the fact he… bought… my dead leg.

Remus ran his fingers through his hair so much that it stuck out at all angles by the time he reached her office. When he knocked, it wasn't McGonagall's voice that told him to come in, and he flung the door open with a big smile.

"Miss Fawley!"

She stood up, turning to face him, a smile on her own face. "Remus, dear. Happy Christmas."

"Happy Christmas!" He ran over and hugged her tightly. "I—we—we weren't meeting today, were we?" It was a Tuesday, but they were meeting on Thursdays during the holidays.

Miss Fawley laughed. "No, this is supposed to be a surprise. Here." She produced a package from her robes pocket, wrapped in scarlet and gold paper.

Remus took it, face warming. "I—I'm not—your present isn't—"

"It's all right, I wasn't expecting anything from you."

"No, there—I do have something. It's just not quite done."

Her smile grew. "I'm very excited to get it. Now, go on. Open it."

Remus sat down and opened it, not sure what to expect. It didn't feel like a book, however she had gifted him a book before that was shrunken down until he opened it. But this was large and square. It almost felt like an album…

And it was.

Remus stared as he pulled out a tannish album with a sepia-toned photo on the front he recognized immediately: it was Elton John's Honky Château.

"That is the one from your memory, isn't it?" she asked a little nervously.

One of the memories that popped up frequently during his sessions was when he had borrowed the album from Lily and listened to Rocket Man. He had told her the song meant a lot to him. And now he had his own copy.

"Yes." He knew his voice quavered a little, but he didn't care; he had cried around Fawley plenty. He put his arms back around her and they exchanged another tight hug. "Thank you. Th—thank you so much. This is—this—I—thank you." He wished he had got on with her knitting, that he had finished her present.

"I spoke with Minerva," she started and Remus's head jerked up.

"I didn't do anything!"

Miss Fawley's forehead scrunched a little. "All right, James," she said, which made him give a nervous giggle. "As I was saying. I spoke with Minerva and she has given me permission to take you into Hogsmeade for lunch. If you like."

His eyes widened at the thought. "Yes please."

"Only if you tell me what you didn't do," she added sternly.

He hunkered down. "I… I—er, wrote you a letter. I sent it yesterday…" He then told her what he did because he didn't know what else to do with the leg. "I didn't want to burn it, because there would still be bones, and I don't know how to—to get rid of bones." He twisted his fingers into the hem of his jumper. "I suppose I could have burnt it and then dismantled the bones and scattered them through the Forbidden Forest…"

Miss Fawley reached out to place a cool hand against his cheek. "I'm sorry you had to go through that. I never thought about…" She trailed off and sighed, straightening up. "Morrigan had a few similar incidents. I did use decomposition spells, and destroyed the bones. It is difficult to do. If this happens… again…" she said that bit through gritted teeth, "then you let me know and I shall come and help you."

"I shouldn't have given it to Slughorn," he muttered.

"No," she agreed gently. "Although it isn't the worst thing that could have happened. Professor Slughorn can be greedy, however he is smart. He will not do anything to put you in harms way, such as trying to sell the leg to make a profit or some such. No, he'll use it for himself."

Remus shuddered, feeling ill. "It was still dumb."

Her fingers stroked his hair. "It's done with, don't dwell on it. What have I told you before? We all make mistakes, it's part of what makes us human. Now." She stood up, offering her arm out. "It's Christmas. Shall we go celebrate?"

X

They went into Hogsmeade, to the Three Broomsticks. Madame Rosmerta wasn't there, however a cousin of hers was manning the pub. He ranted about how decent witches and wizards shouldn't succumb to Muggle religion and holidays. He told Fawley that any self-respecting witch or wizard shouldn't believe or celebrate a Muggle God, and then he went on about evolution for a bit which confused Remus.

"Isn't evolution a Muggle thing too?" he asked Fawley after they sat down. "Charles Darwin and all that? He was a Muggle, he's the one that discovered that sort of thing… isn't he? So isn't he simply rejecting one Muggle idea for another?"

Miss Fawley nudged Remus, smiling. "Shh," she snickered. "Yes, but don't say that so loud. Wizards like that are…"

"Are what?"

"Never you mind."

Remus glanced at the closed doors to the kitchen area where the wizard had disappeared to. "Like the ones that attacked Finch and Wildwand's shop?"

Her face fell slightly. "Yes. Unfortunately, being violently anti-Muggle seems to be a growing sentiment."

Remus looked at his tankard of butterbeer and began twisting it around. "Is something going on?" he asked.

Miss Fawley swallowed, her head turning one way and then another as if listening to know if anyone else was around. There were two old ladies in one corner who looked suspiciously like hags, and a heavily bearded man already deep in his cups. None were close enough to really hear, and Remus told her. "I don't know," she replied very quietly, reaching out to put her fingers against his sleeve. "If you ask me, yes. Some wish to act as if everything is fine. Actually, the Minister is supposed to make a speech today. After the Queen's speech. I believe it's to do with… the…"

"Growing sentiment?" Remus offered, and Fawley nodded. They both fell silent as Rosmerta's cousin came out of the kitchens with their food. Remus tried not to stare at him too much, wondering if he believed what happened to Finch and Wildwand was right. If he was the sort to actually do that sort of thing.

Fawley changed the subject, and the mood grew merrier. He told her about the Marauders decorating the dorm room, and that he was excited to see the Great Hall for supper. She told him about past Christmases at Hogwarts and, when they finished their food, she produced a large Christmas cracker for them to pull. The pop made the bearded man jump and spill his drink, but then he laughed and raised his nearly-empty goblet towards them before chugging the rest down.

Remus got the bigger side of the cracker but he let her have things since there would be crackers at Hogwarts. He helped affix the Father Christmas hat on her head and gave her the chocolate frogs.

"I don't really like those," he said when she tried giving them back. "I don't like eating things that act alive. It makes me… think of… well, you know."

"I understand," she said, tucking them into her pockets. "Do you collect the cards?"

"Not really. I'll take the jelly slug, though." He ripped open the little packet, glad the creature-like sweet didn't ooze about like a real slug. There was also a hand fan that wafted a lovely fruity sort of scent when one fanned themselves, and Remus gave it to Fawley. He claimed the scent was a little too strong for him but in reality he wanted to give her everything he could.

After they shared a mince pie, Fawley paid the grumbling wizard who told her and her son to have a nice day. Remus flushed, feeling uncomfortably happy at the thought of being mistaken for Fawley's son. As they walked down the main street, he kept shooting her glances, wondering if anyone else thought he was her son. They didn't really look alike, but then again not everyone looked exactly like their parents.

I wish she was my—

No! He thought, quickly banishing that thought before it could finish. He felt ill again, and very guilty.

A group of carolers stopped them and Remus stood in the light snow, the guilt dissipating and happiness returning as he listened to a song about how Merlin saved Christmas. He and Fawley clapped and wished them all a happy Christmas before moving on. Of course no where was open, but they strolled through the snow and chatted about various things until it got too cold and they returned to the castle.

"Thank you," he said when they reached Dumbledore's office for her to leave. "I've had a terrific Christmas, thanks to you."

She hugged him tightly. "I'm glad. If you need anything at all, let me know." She planted a kiss on the top of his head and then went up the staircase. Remus waited until the gargoyle moved back in place, and then he went to his dorm to take a nap.

X

The Great Hall was all decked out. There were four trees all heavily decorated in house colors; tinsel, popcorn string, and fairy lights were strung everywhere. Fake snow floated through the air alongside pretty ornaments, and the entire room smelled a little like peppermint.

Remus crept to a corner of the table, feeling rather lonely and wishing Fawley had stayed for the whole day. A grand supper appeared across the table and Dumbledore made a nice little speech before everyone began eating and pulling crackers. Even the teachers pulled crackers, and Dumbledore ended up with a large, glittery unicorn horn on his head. Even McGonagall put one of the paper hats on. Hers was a pirate hat, and Remus ached to have a camera to show the Marauders.

"Happy Christmas."

Someone stuck the end of a purple cracker in his face and he jumped, startled.

"Oh, sorry," said the fair-haired boy, with Longbottom and Weasley flanking him. Longbottom and Weasley were practically playing tug-of-war with one that refused to break.

Remus took the other end of the purple one and tugged. Theirs popped open easily, the fair-haired boy getting the lion's share. He placed the bejeweled tiara on his head, cheeks flushed a little pink.

"Fucking PULL!" Weasley shrieked.

"I am, you wanker," Longbottom snapped, both of them still pulling.

"I gave them a fake one," the fair-haired boy whispered in Remus's ear before offering him another cracker. He also got the bigger side but he gave Remus all the prizes inside and Remus put on a pair of Quidditch goggles on his forehead.

"Fuck this!" Weasley let go and Longbottom fell on his bum. The fair-haired boy began laughing wildly and Weasley whipped his head around. "You little shite!"

Longbottom smacked the cracker against the floor and it bounced. He laughed, though. "Good one, Cath."

Cath, Remus committed to memory, wishing he had a surname instead. Then he remembered Longbottom's first name was Frank and… wait. F and C and he knew Weasley was Quin, so… "Are—did—did you g-get me—get—get—um, present…?" FQC.

"You do like every flavor beans, right?" Longbottom asked as he sat down and got another cracker to pull with Weasley. "I thought I've seen you and your friends with them before."

"Yes, th—thank you, but—" He didn't know what to say. They had gotten him a gift? He didn't even know them! They didn't know him! All because he was screaming the first night? Was it all pity? It had to be pity.

"But?" Longbottom asked.

Remus squirmed uncomfortably. "I—I appreciate it, I d-do, but you—it's not—you d-don't need to…" He took a deep breath, trying to steady himself. "I d-don't need… pity…"

There was a loud bang as the cracker went off in Weasley's face, causing Remus to jump. "It's not," said Longbottom, waving the smoke away from his face. Remus looked down, remaining silent. "Erm. All right, I suppose it is a little but not completely."

"You f-feel—feel—feel sorry for me," Remus said.

All three were quiet. Then the fair-haired one, Cath, said, "No, not sorry for you. Just… we all know what it's like to be alone during Christmas. Except Quin. Our second year, I stayed behind and was by myself, and last year Frank stayed back and was alone."

"It's ruddy rotten," Frank said. "Put that on."

"No," Weasley complained.

"You have to. It's a Christmas rule."

Weasley groaned as he put a Slytherin hat on. "Disgusting."

"You s-sound like James and Sirius," Remus remarked.

"I'm a Weasley, we're all Gryffindors through and through," Weasley said proudly.

"Your mum was a Slytherin," Cath pointed out.

Weasley shrugged. "Mum's a Black, they're all bloody Slytherins. Thankfully we took the Weasley name, and Gryffindor blood." He picked up a licorice wand and began chewing. "Plus she got disinherited, so she's not a damned Black anymore anyway."

"All Blacks except one," Longbottom said and Weasley looked up at him then at Remus.

"Ah, right, Sirius. I'm surprised he hasn't been disinherited yet, for being a Gryffindor—oof!" he yelped as either Longbottom or Cath kicked him. "What? I'm only speaking the truth. Blacks are fucking insane and disinherit at the slightest thing. 'Oh'," he said in a creepy voice, "'you gazed upon a Muggle, you are DISSSINNNNHHERRRITEDD!'" He threw his arms up in the air and brought them down with a loud crash against the table.

"How—how are you re-related to Sirius?" Remus asked, curious.

Weasley swallowed the last of the wand. "Let's see… my grandfather, Arcturus—what a bloody name that is, eh?—his brother is, I believe, Sirius's great-grandfather. Course his brother—Arcturus's brother—is also named Sirius, then his son was named Arcturus, and he had Orion who had Sirius. The Blacks are very original with their names, don't you think?"

"Your name means fifth and you're the fifth son," Cath said flatly.

Weasley went red. "Still bloody better than fifty Arcturuseses! Anyway, my mother and Sirius's grandfather are cousins, so that makes us… second cousins once removed? Or something like that. Watch this." He picked up a roasted chestnut and flipped it in the air, catching it in his mouth then doing a ta-da motion with his hands.

"That's where he expects you to applaud," Longbottom told Remus.

"As if a million others can't do the same thing," added Cath, smiling sweetly when Weasley gave him the middle finger.

"Anyway." Longbottom looked at Remus again. "As Cath said, we know what it's like to be alone during the holidays, so if you want to… you know, do something with us let us know."

"Plus we do really like playing Sphinx," Weasley said. "And you need four people for that."

Remus still felt a little miserable over being pitied… but he did suppose they were trying to be nice, so after they left the Great Hall, he agreed to play a few rounds of Sphinx with them. They sat in the common room near the fire, nibbling on Christmas sweets as they played, Remus not sure how he felt; awkward, yes, but also it wasn't very bad. He had a decent time, and by the time he headed up to bed he realized this was his first truly happy Christmas in a long time.

He rather hoped to be able to stay at Hogwarts the rest of the Christmases.