Remus woke up on boxing day soaked in sweat and shaking hard. He couldn't remember the nightmares, but could still feel the fear from them. Grumbling to himself, he crawled out from under his bed to get a shower and head down to breakfast. He expected to eat alone… though wasn't too surprised when Longbottom, Weasley, and O'Kelley (whose surname he found out the night before) joined him; he had the feeling this would be happening often over the holidays. He was surprised, though, when Weasley handed him some parchment. He stared at the homework for a few seconds before remembering he had told Weasley he'd help him the night before.

"You shouldn't encourage his stupidity," Longbottom said as Remus began going over the Astronomy essay, crossing things out.

"I d-don't mind," Remus replied a little absentmindedly as he scratched down a few notes on one of Weasley's dismal paragraphs. It was like if James and Peter had to write an essay together: loads of rambling thoughts, and most of it misspelled. And there was even a little bit of Sirius in there, to which he said out loud: "I, erm, don't think you—you—you c-can put the, erm, the… this… this word in an essay."

Weasley leaned over to look. "What, 'fuck'? I've done it before."

"And you get in trouble for it every time," O'Kelley said.

Weasley sniffled. "The teachers are prudish. If you can't say 'fuck' in an essay once in a while, what's the bloody point?"

"Once in a while?" Longbottom arched his eyebrows. "I don't think 'every other essay you write' should be considered 'once in a while'."

"All right, all right," Weasley grumbled, taking the essay from Remus and crossing out the word. "Can I say 'bollocks', though? I'm going to say bollocks."

Remus handed the essay back then returned to his breakfast, plotting out the day in his head and feeling strange withat all his free time. It was bizarre being at Hogwarts and not having anything to do. Part of him wanted to offer to look over all their homework, but kept that idea to himself.

After turning down the offer to go sledding with the three fourth years, Remus went back to his dorm to pen letters to the other Marauders. He put the Elton album on while he did, often flicking his wand to make Rocket Man repeat. He ended each letter with a 'Missing you very much', hoping that didn't seem too sappy. Their letter to him ended with an 'already missing you', so he figured it would be fine.

The owls were none too happy with him when he tied letters to their legs, sending them off. It wasn't until after all three birds disappeared that he remembered James was in America, and the letter wouldn't be able to reach him. Not unless he went to Hogsmeade and paid money for an overseas delivery which was A, too expensive and B, rather pointless.

Ah well, he thought as he left the owlery. Maybe I'll visit Sir Nicholas, or Myrtle… He licked his lips, wrapping his arms around himself as he shuffled along, deciding not to. He didn't want to visit with anyone. He wanted to be with the Marauders, and felt a gaping hole inside of him at their absence. It felt so different than when he was at home.

It's because this is where they are, he realized, looking down one of the corridors. Hogwarts meant the Marauders, and being at Hogwarts without them filled him with wrongness.

He stuck his hands in his pockets, ducking his head as he tried not to feel too lonely. He had thought he'd be able to handle it. Two weeks at Hogwarts without them. But it was only four days in and already he was bothered.

Maybe Longbottom and O'Kelley were right about being alone here for the holidays. He sat down on a bench to look out the window. It wasn't snowing anymore, but there was some on the grounds. It stretched out, an unbroken expanse of white. He put his fingertips against the glass knowing every inch of the grounds would be mucked up if the others were there. The three are out there somewhere, sledding. Most likely the other side, where the steeper hills were. At least they had each other.

Finally, he decided to visit Arthur's grave. He went to his dorm to put more layers on and then left the castle, making sure to erase his footprints as he went so nobody would see them going into the forest. As he neared the edge of the trees he felt a little dizzy at the prospect of going in alone. He had before, to meet the Marauders, but this was different. There'd be no one to meet him at Fort Dragon.

Shrugging, he took a step forward and—

"Lupin?"

He jumped, nearly slipping in the snow. "Mr. Ha—Hagrid!" He straightened up, trying not to blush.

The groundskeeper gave him a suspicious look. "Yeh weren't goin' into the forest, were yeh?"

"No, of course not," Remus lied, trying to put a smile on his face. "I was… admiring the view."

Hagrid's beetle black eyes narrowed. "Mmm." He rubbed his beard as he eyed the ground and Remus's lack of footprints. "Would yeh like ter come o'er fer a cup o' tea?"

He didn't particularly want to, but felt bad at turning him down. "That'd be n-nice, thank you."

He followed Hagrid to his hut, unable to stop his grin as Hagrid's giant dog Rocky came bounding out. He tackled Remus and the two fell back in the snow, Rocky barking as he licked Remus's face, Remus laughing. Hagrid whistled and Rocky reluctantly got off the boy.

Hagrid's hut was very warm from the roaring fireplace, and Remus stripped off his hat, gloves, and winter cloak. Hagrid hung them up before bustling around the room, getting a cup of tea and a plate with very hard molasses toffee on it. Remus just dumped the piece in his tea, letting it melt and sweeten the drink.

"Bin strange seein' yeh without the others," Hagrid said after they both settled down. Rocky whined and put his head on Remus's leg. Remus set his hand on Rocky's head, scratching gently behind his ears. "Did yeh have a nice Christmas?"

"Yes," Remus said, looking down into Rocky's eyes. "The Great Hall looked beautiful. Did you pick out the—the trees?" he asked, knowing perfectly well Hagrid had. Hagrid nodded, beaming when Remus complimented their appearance.

They chatted for a while, Hagrid doing most of the talking while Rocky kept pushing his face into Remus's face and slobbering. Hagrid told Rocky to stop, but Remus didn't mind. He liked the feel of a dog cuddling up with him. He pressed his face into the top of Rocky's head, giggling as Rocky licked his neck.

After the tea and the words ran out, Hagrid stood up to take Remus back to the school. It had started snowing rather heavily during their time in the hut, so Hagrid grabbed what looked like a mile of knitted fabric and wound it around Remus's neck as a scarf.

"Don't know why yeh bin going out without a scarf 'n a hat," Hagrid complained, plopping a giant knitted hat on his head. It slid down over Remus's entire face and he shoved it back.

"I d-didn't realize it was supposed to get this cold," Remus admitted, adjusting the hat until it sat on his head without issue. "These are nice." He ran his fingers across the scarf. It was a whole medley of colors but the knit work was fantastic. "Did someone make—make—make this for you?"

"Made it meself," Hagrid said, pulling another giant scarf and hat out. They didn't seem so big on him.

Remus's eyes went wide. "You made them?"

"'Course." Hagrid opened the door and a blast of icy wind and snow came in. Rocky whined, and slithered over towards the fireplace. "Bin knittin' since I was… well, I'd say smaller than you but I don't think I was ever that small!" Hagrid boomed out some laughter at that joke as they left his hut.

"You knit?" Remus stared at him as he shut the door, locking it. "You?" he couldn't help but repeat.

"Yeh think I don't know how ta do sumthin like that?" Hagrid asked, sounding slightly hurt.

"No, no," he said quickly. "Not—not like—I didn't mean it like that. I only…" He trailed off, biting his bottom lip, feeling very stupid.

"Only?" Hagrid raised his bushy eyebrows, waiting for a response.

"I—I used to—I mean, my mother, she—and—" Remus swallowed, pressing his hands against his thighs to try to calm himself down. "My mother knits. And she taught me. B-but my father said… that… it wasn't something men don't… It wasn't a masculine sort of…" He trailed off, looking up at the enormous man, feeling ridiculous at saying such a thing.

"Hogwash," Hagrid grumbled. He put his arm out and slightly around Remus to help him since they were walking against the wind, and it was difficult for him. "It's a diff'rent sorta magic. Transfigguration. Yeh got yarn and yeh make it into something else. What's that got to do with bein' a man or a woman?"

Remus tugged at his sleeve, feeling rather dizzy at those words. Hagrid was probably one of the most masculine sort of man that Remus could ever imagine. The wild mountain man sort of thing. He knitted, and was proud of it. And with everything else that happened with Lyall recently… Should I really let my father dictate my hobbies…? He liked knitting, he missed it. He was really enjoying knitting Fawley's present, and had been going a little slow to make it last as a sort of mental excuse but—did he really need an excuse? The Marauders never bat an eyelash at him knitting.

As if reading his mind, Hagrid said, "Yeh used ta knit a lot, didn't yeh? I know Sirius always went on 'n on 'bout that hat yeh made him."

"I… did…" Remus shook off the snow as he and Hagrid went into a courtyard, along one of the side passages. "Until my father… sort of… convinced me otherwise."

"Mm." Hagrid brushed the snow off himself, sending great showers of it down along the stone corridor. "I don't really know yer father, and I can't really say one way or another, but if yeh like ta knit then yeh should knit."

"But—" Remus stopped himself quickly, but Hagrid was looking at him. "It's… nothing, sir."

"Hagrid, not sir," Hagrid said warmly.

"Hagrid," Remus mumbled, toeing the ground. "Other kids already think I'm—I'm—that I'm strange and different." Poof, whispered Spinnet's voice, and he shuddered slightly, wrapping his arms around himself.

Hagrid's hand covered Remus's shoulder. "Yeh are different," he said and Remus looked up. "Nuthin' wrong with being different. I know it's hard, at your age. I was… the odd one out in school. So different that it's what got me expelled."

Remus knew the groundskeeper had been expelled, but never knew why. "What happened? If—if it's okay to ask."

Hagrid looked sad and his hand dropped away from Remus's shoulder. "Someone everyone thought was better'n me said I did something I didn't. He was popular. A Prefect. And I… was too… strange and different, so he was believed o'er me." Hagrid then smiled and began taking the hat and scarf off Remus, tucking them into his own pockets. "But I can't help bein' who I am, and yeh can't help bein' who yeh are."

"What if I don't want to be who I am?" Remus blurted out.

Hagrid looked down at him. "Then that'd be a sad thing, Lupin. Yer a wonnurful person. Might not know yeh as well as James and Sirius but they never shut up 'bout yeh. And I'd trust them over a million riddles any day."

What do riddles have to do with anything? Remus wondered, but didn't say anything because he felt too hot and squirmy at the thought of James and Sirius bragging so much about him.

"They like who yeh are," Hagrid said, opening one of the doors that led into the castle. "And don't yeh trust them?"

"I do."

"There yeh go. Have a good day, Lupin." Hagrid winked at him, and shut the door behind him, leaving him with a lot of things to think about.

X

Remus avoided the trio of fourth years as best he could for the rest of the day, and the next day. He spent most of his time either in the library or holed up in a secret passage… with homework, and with knitting. He was working on Fawley's present, and thinking a lot about what Hagrid said. With each click of the needle it felt like his brain (or heart) swung back and forth.

Click-click.

Hagrid is practically the epitome of masculinity and he knits, and isn't ashamed of knitting.

Click-click.

I'm like that though, and Dad says it isn't a masculine hobby. If I keep knitting will it make people think…?

Click-click.

If Hagrid can knit, why can't I?

Click-click.

I'm not big and manly like Hagrid. I'm small, pathetic, and… like that…

He finished Fawley's throw and ran his fingers across the soft fabric, pleased with how it felt. He would be meeting her that night for their Occlumency lesson, and was glad he was able to finish it in time.

She loved it, exclaiming happily over how it felt. She tucked it over her legs for their lesson, which lasted a very long time. The first half hour was spent talking, mostly about him knitting. He told her everything, and showed her the memory of his discussion with Hagrid. He also admitted that he was scared to knit, because he didn't want to seem feminine and didn't want anyone to think he was like that.

Fawley squeezed his hand, and told him that plenty of men knit. She knew several who did, and said that she was fairly sure there was a popular book about knitting that had been written by a man. A normal man (well, she said a man who was married to a woman, but Remus knew she meant normal, meant not like that).

"I don't have a wife though," Remus said, a little plaintively. "Erm, girlfriend, I suppose. I'm not like him. I'm not like Hagrid. I don't have any… any shields."

"It's your decision," she said simply. "However, I want it to be yours, and yours alone. Not because your father—" (she said this with distaste), "—made a stupid, very sexist comment. Your friends are proud of it, aren't they? Sirius adores that hat you made him last year. I've seen it in almost every single cold outdoor memory between you, James, and Peter."

Remus felt himself blushing a little. That stupid hat. "He loves it because it's a Gryffindor hat."

"He has others. He loves it because you made it."

He squirmed a little, wondering how much Fawley suspected of his… wrong feelings towards—no, not… not wrong… no, yes. Yes, wrong. Not because of—because they were both… boys… (sort of) but because they were friends. Either way, he wondered how much she suspected. He hoped she didn't know he felt anything towards Sirius.

"James and Peter seem to love the gifts you've made them just as much," she continued, with no idea what she had just put him through. "I imagine Lily would love something if you made it for her. None of us think you are less masculine for knitting. And it never crossed my mind to think you were gay because of i—sorry," she added, when he flinched back; she could feel him withdraw. "Think you were… ahh…"

"L-like that," he squeaked quietly. The word still felt so wrong and painful, like a dull blade trying to cut into his heart.

"Like that because you knitted," she finished.

"Why did you suspect?" he asked. "You've never really said."

"It…" She trailed off and went quiet. "Is it important?" she finally asked.

His head jerked up. "I'd like to know. Especially if it's something I should… try to fix."

She gave a little sigh and began fussing with the blanket. "Very well. The thing I noticed the most was that you seemed to spend more time than I would think staring at Professor Prewett's… erm, backside."

Remus tried to think of a spell that would open up a hole in the floor and swallow him, though he supposed if he did that he wouldn't be any better than whoever made those pits on the third floor. Still, he wanted to disappear. Wanted to shrink into nothing. Wanted to run.

"Would you like to change the subje—"

"Yes, please," he wheezed out.

"Are you upset?"

He shook his head. "Embarrassed but n-not upset. After all, I did ask. I—I guess I thought you'd say something else. Like. Like what Spinnet said. My clothes. Or how I—" He stopped, thinking about how he cried a lot, or how shy and quiet he was. Were those feminine traits? He began to feel confused and a little unraveled. Suddenly he didn't want to have this conversation anymore. "I think maybe we should just get into the Occlumency, if that's okay."

Fawley nodded and put her fingers against his temple. For the next hour they worked, not needing to worry about any time constraints or a curfew since it was the afternoon. The only reason they stopped was because of his headache which grew worse and worse until he got sick in a nearby rubbish bin. He wanted to continue, but Fawley refused.

Need to figure this out, he thought as he returned to the Gryffindor tower, not feeling very hungry. Then he paused, trying to remember the last time he ate. He hadn't really eaten much since Christmas. Perhaps he should try to eat supper? He shook his head, not wanting to force himself when he didn't want to eat.

One floor up, and he ran into two older Ravenclaw boys who were bullying someone. Remus hesitated, staring at the smaller figure who was covered in some sort of green foamy stuff. The Ravenclaws were laughing and using spells to push the younger student down. The figure was flailing and sputtering, choking almost. A wand was laying a few feet away, meaning the kid didn't have any way to protect themself.

Remus swallowed, ignoring the throbbing pain in his temples as he reached for his wand. The Ravenclaws hadn't seen him. He tucked himself behind a statue and pointed. "Incendio," he whispered, and the hem of one of the Ravenclaw's jumpers caught fire. "Tarantella," he whispered and the other Ravenclaw began jerking around, legs kicking one way and then another as he began dancing.

"You're on fire!" he shouted as he tried to use the counter spell on his legs.

The other boy looked down and began screaming, running in circles until he threw himself in the green foam on the floor, rolling in it to put himself out. The dancing boy managed to get his legs under control as Remus used the leg locker curse on the boy on the ground. He shouted, rolling even more, demanding his friend help him. His friend aimed his wand but before he could, Remus made him start dancing again.

During all of this the foam-covered figure got away, pouncing on their wand. The kid said something in a familiar voice, however his words were unfamiliar. The boy dancing began yelping as the one on the ground got his legs unstuck. He got his friend to stop dancing and he fell to the ground, ripping his shoes off. Long, claw-like toenails were poking out of his socks, growing before Remus's eyes. Before the previously-on-fire Ravenclaw could do anything, the figure then used a spell Remus did recognize.

"Langlock!"

The Ravenclaw's shouts became garbled and strange, as if…

Oh shit, Remus thought, and wanted to get out of there; however, the Ravenclaw boys were running down the corridor. Remus pushed himself farther behind the statue, praying that neither the Ravenclaws or Snape would see him.

What's he doing here? Remus thought, clenching his teeth. He hadn't seen Snape at all during the holidays! Not even during the Christmas feast! Had he come back early or—

"Levicorpus," snarled Snape, or at least that's what Remus thought he heard.

He yelped as it felt like something grabbed him by the ankle and hoisted him up in the air. His body banged painfully against the statue as he went but was soon dangling near the ceiling, in full view.

Snape, upside down to Remus, approached with a sneer. "I wondered why whoever attacked them remained hidden," he growled, eyes narrowed as he wiped some of the foam off.

The blood was rushing to Remus's head, making his headache continue. His jumper was riding up—er, down on him as was the t-shirt he wore under. He knew Snape could see his belly and for some reason that made him feel more ashamed than anything else.

Snape lowered him until their eyes were at the same level. "P-put me down pl—please," Remus said, trying not to wriggle because he didn't want his jumper sliding more, revealing more skin.

Snape tilted his head. "What were you doing? I'm surprised you weren't helping them. Or… did you not realize who they were attacking?"

Remus was starting to have trouble breathing. "I knew," he lied. His body was hurting. Being suspended by one ankle was quite painful.

Snape snorted. "Liar." He reached out, grabbing Remus's hair and twisting. He had dropped his wand when he had first been yanked up, and had no way of defending himself. "I know damn well you would have been helping if it were you idiot friends doing that. You wouldn't have rescued me. If you knew it was me, you would have kept going."

Remus tried to hide the guilt in his face but it was difficult in his position. "All right," he confessed. "Fine, yes, I d-didn't know it was you now please put—put—put me down!"

But Snape began grinning. "Imagine that. Loopy Lupin begging me for something." He shoved forward, letting Remus's hair go so Remus would swing. He cried out, arms and free leg flailing again, his jumper sliding even more. It was bunching up around his chest and armpits. "I don't know. This is quite entertaining." He flicked his wand and Remus was yanked higher again.

"Please! I—I helped you—"

"Only because you didn't know it was me. Perfect example of a Gryffindor. Only wanting to help those they actually care about, or deem good enough."

There was hardly anyone in the castle, no chance of them being stumbled on even though they were in one of the main corridors. That's probably why the Ravenclaws hadn't taken him somewhere else. The chances of anyone else coming down the corridor—especially when supper was being served—was improbable.

"Say please."

"I did!"

Snape tutted. "Say it again. Nicely."

Remus grit his teeth, feeling like he might be sick again. "Please."

"Please what?"

"Please put me down."

He smirked. "No. 'Please, Snape'."

Oh Merlin. "Please, Snape."

"And admit I am better than you," Snape added with a wicked grin.

Remus tried not to roll his eyes. "You're better than me," he said, knowing that Snape wanted him to argue. To protest. James and Sirius would have, refusing to utter those words. But Remus didn't care; saying it didn't mean it was true.

Snape pursed his lips, obviously annoyed at how 'easy' Remus gave him. "You are pathetic, Loopy. Liberacorpus."

Remus felt whatever was holding his ankle disappear, and suddenly he was falling right to the stone floor. He wailed in pain as he slammed head-first into the stone and crumpled into a heap, panting for air as more pain shot through his head. Everything went black for a moment and when he opened his eyes again, he could see stars. Slowly he pushed himself up, looking at the blood on the floor. He reached up to touch his head and soon realized most of the blood was on his face. He hadn't cracked open his head, thankfully. Not that it really mattered. He'd heal. But if Snape saw him be perfectly fine after something like that, it'd be—

Snape.

Remus got to his feet too fast, dizziness slamming into him and causing him to sink back down. From the floor he lifted his chin, looking around. Snape was nowhere to be seen, but there was a trail of green foam going off.

Moaning, Remus crawled to the statue to pick up his wand, glad at least Snape hadn't stuck around to see anything heal.

X

He had nightmares that night. Snape lifting him in the air, taunting him, as the sun started going down. The sun set, the moon rose, and Remus's werewolf burst out of him. He pounced through the air, onto Snape's shocked face, and began ripping into him—

And woke up sobbing. "No, no, no!" He clutched his blankets, panting heavily as his eyes adjusted. He slept with all the Christmas lights on, so he wasn't completely in the dark, and that made it easier to calm down.

What didn't make it easier was knocking at the door, then the door opening. "Lupin?" Remus stared in horror as Longbottom poked his head through the crack. "Lupin, are you all right? I heard…"

"Fine," he managed to say, sliding out of bed quickly. At least this time he wasn't covered in blood. Except when Longbottom's eyes slid to the floor, Remus realized he had left his blood-covered jumper there.

"What happened?"

"N-nothing. What did you hear? You—" He stopped himself from saying Longbottom shouldn't have heard anything through the door. If he had been screaming, perhaps that muffled, but not crying.

Longbottom looked back up at him. "I heard that you were hurt earlier?"

Remus clenched his hands into fists, pressing them to his thighs as Longbottom opened the door a little more. He expected to see Weasley and O'Kelley there, but Longbottom was alone. "How did you hear that?"

"My great-great grandmother."

"Eh?" Remus was utterly baffled.

Longbottom gave a slight smile. "Her portrait, I should say. It's on the fifth floor. Me 'n Quin 'n Cath came across a bunch of weird bubbly stuff and blood. My ancestor's portrait was nearby and I asked her." He ran his fingers through his hair. "She said two older boys attacked a younger boy, and then they were attacked and ran off, and then he promptly attacked his rescuer. She described you. That's how I knew."

"Oh."

"There was quite a bit of blood on the floor." Longbottom was looking at the jumper again.

"I'm f-fine." Remus took a few steps and picked the jumper up, tossing it in the laundry basket. "My—my nose. It bled a lot, that's all. Nothing—nothing serious." He finally glanced at the clock since he was about to ask why Longbottom was bothering him in the middle of the night then realized it was only nine. He had fallen asleep while reading. "Thank you."

Longbottom hesitated then stepped into the room. "Who was it?"

"Who was… who?"

A smile. "The boy who hurt you." Remus shrugged, not wanting to snitch on Snape because it would only cause more problems. "Is someone bullying you?"

It took him back to all the times the other Marauders got protective of him. "It w-was an incident, that's all." He began tugging at his sleeve, wishing the older boy would leave. "I'm fine."

"All right." Longbottom sounded rather dubious but at least he was inching back, out of the room. Then he stopped. "If—if you ever need to talk or anything, my ear's free. Er, not because of, erm, pity or—or anything," he added quickly, looking sheepish. "I mean, I know you—and we—about the other day… it was… you know, pity, a little, but… Cath is right, we know what it's like to be alone here. So. Erm, yeah. And if anyone's bothering you, let me know. Let any of us know."

"Why?" Remus couldn't help but ask.

Longbottom looked surprised. "You're one of us."

Remus furrowed his brow, confused by that. "One of…? Oh you—you mean—you mean a Gryffindor?"

"Yeah," Longbottom said. "And, you know, you're a pretty neat kid." He rubbed the back of his head with one hand and put his other hand on the doorknob. "Anyway, yeah, glad you're okay. Again, if you need anything… we're here for you."

He left, and Remus stared at the closed door for several minutes before climbing back into bed, too focused on what Longbottom called him to go back to sleep anytime soon.