Not long after Rocky had left, there was another sharp crack a little ways away from Remus, and Manard emerged from the trees. "What happened?" he asked, raising his eyebrows at Remus' red eyes and runny nose.

"Oh… nothing."

"Liar. You didn't cry this much after I used a damn Unforgivable on you. What happened, and why are you sitting down? Have you even walked at all?"

"I… yes. Greyback's not here. I don't think he's looking for me at all."

"How do you know? What about the messages he left you?"

Remus drew a deep, shuddery breath and stood up from the stump. "There was another werewolf in the forest," he admitted. "We found each other. The werewolf was part of Greyback's pack, and he said that the pack was somewhere else."

"Then he lied. Otherwise he wouldn't have been here at all."

"No, he told me that Greyback had sent him to scout out this area, because they're thinking of moving the pack here at some point far off in the future. He knew I was a werewolf, so he had no reason to lie to me."

"And he didn't tell you where Greyback was?"

"I told him I wasn't joining, so he didn't see it fit to tell me."

Manard's eyebrows slammed downward in an expression of anger. "Why on earth did you tell him you weren't joining?"

"Because I'm not!"

"Then you should have lied!"

"Professor, if he had taken me there, I never would have gotten back out! Greyback might've taken my word as vow!"

"So what? So you sacrifice yourself and save countless others. So you endure a little bit of unpleasantness for the sakes of many. Your life is destroyed as it is! What are you trying to save? You might as well prioritize those who still have hope!"

"I have plenty of hope! Things could always get better!"

"No," said Manard, stepping closer, "they can't. You're done for. Your life will be nothing but suffering, there's no escape, et cetera, and I don't understand why you choose to expose others to a life like that. You could have caught Greyback!"

"I still think he'll show up. He sent me those messages, after all."

"I think it's far too late for that. You got an opportunity, and you blew it. How do you know he didn't send that other werewolf to take you to him, unbeknownst to both of you? Maybe that was it."

"Oh." Remus' heart sank. "I guess, maybe."

"You guess, maybe," mocked Manard, his voice dripping with even more hatred than it usually did. "Come on, let's get you to that clinic. Maybe they can fix your head, too, so that you stop being so utterly idiotic."

Remus sighed and took Manard's arm. There was a crack and a whirling feeling in the pit of Remus' stomach, and then the scents of the forest faded as quickly as they'd appeared.

At the clinic, Remus and Manard were greeted by a kindly Welcome Witch (whose name was Laura, according to her nametag). She first greeted them in German, but upon hearing Manard's English greeting, switched to English flawlessly. "Are you here for the clinic?" she asked.

"We are indeed," replied Manard, smiling. "Is there a Healer free, or shall we wait?"

"Healer Wagner should be available right now. Have a seat on that bench, please. I'll fetch him for you."

Remus and Manard sat down, and Remus felt an immense weight off of his feet as he did so. "I never imagined sitting down could feel so good," he murmured.

Manard didn't respond.

"Professor?"

Silence.

Remus twiddled his thumbs.

About five minutes later, when Laura still had not returned, Manard turned to Remus and said, "I'm very cross with you."

"Yeah… I could tell."

"Stop it with the cheek. You had an opportunity, and you didn't take it—only to save your own skin. What kind of Gryffindor are you? That was a once-in-a-lifetime chance!"

"Sir, I…"

"Shut up."

Remus fell silent and stared out of a window.

It was a while until Laura came back with the Healer. He was a tall man with a beard, dark eyes, and a heavy accent. "Hello!" he said. "I'm Healer Fischer. Which one of you needs my assistance?"

Remus had always admired (and feared) Manard's ability to switch emotions and dispositions so quickly. He was smiling now, looking like nothing had ever gone wrong in his life, pretending to be a sane and well-adjusted person. "It's Robert here," he said, pointing to Remus. "I'm just accompanying."

Healer Fischer grinned. "Right, then! You two can follow me into a room. Can he walk?"

"Yes," said Remus, who thought he couldn't bear Manard answering for him again. They followed Fischer into a room, and Fischer shut the door behind them.

"So, Robert," he said, "what seems to be the problem?"

"I'm his uncle," interrupted Manard before Remus could respond. "I took him out into the woods for a camping trip, and we were separated. I looked for him for ages, but couldn't find him. He can't Apparate or use magic on his own, so he walked for hours before we found each other. Pair that with his poor joints due to a recent car accident, and… well, he's not feeling very well."

"Oh, a car," said Fischer with a somber shake of his head. "Nasty contraptions, those. Muggles didn't quite get it right with that one. Well, what hurts most, Robert?"

"My legs," mumbled Remus.

"All right. I'm going to test you both for certain magical diseases and parasites that are commonly found in the Black Forest, and then I'm going to check your legs for sprains or fractures. All right?"

"Sure."

Remus sat and waited while Fischer performed several diagnostic charms on him. When he was finished, he smiled at Remus and said, "Everything seems to be just fine, except for one thing."

"What is it?"

"The lycanthropy, of course."

The room went dead silent. "What?" whispered Remus.

"I screened you for curses, just in case. You were positive for a curse, so I worked down the list."

"Oh."

"I assume you were aware of the lycanthropy previously?"

"Yes, sir."

"All right. Well, it's not my place to judge." Fischer shrugged, smiled and started writing a prescription for Remus on a small piece of paper. "As long as you're handling it properly, there's nothing I can do for you."

Manard let out a surprised laugh. "That's all you're going to say?"

"What else would I say?"

"Well, most people would be frightened, or…"

"I am not a coward, sir. I have a wand, so I see no reason why I should fear a polite little boy. If he is doing everything he can do to contain his curse, then I must respect him for suffering so for our benefits."

"Oh." Manard shook his head, nonplussed. "All right."

Fischer smiled again at Remus. "Thank you for coming in, Robert," he said. "You have some inflamed joints and skin, but I'm going to give you a potion that will bring that back to normal levels within twenty-four hours. Enjoy the rest of your day, and try not to separate from your uncle again."

"Thank you, sir," said Remus quietly, even though he wanted nothing more to separate from Manard once and for all.

"I'm hungry," announced Manard. "Let's go to the restaurant next to the Floo center before we go back, all right? There's a shop right next to it where we can pick up your medication."

"Fine."

"Fine?"

"Fine, sir."

"Good."

They walked in silence to the shop, where Manard bought the potion that Fischer had prescribed to Remus, and then they entered the restaurant—a small, cozy place with hardly any workers. Remus ordered a bowl of soup, which Manard begrudgingly paid for.

"I cannot believe you just wasted our entire trip," he grumbled as they were waiting for their meals.

"I didn't. I found out that Greyback isn't in the Black Forest. I even…." Remus trailed off guiltily. He couldn't believe he'd forgotten to tell Manard this, and he was terrified of what the information would bring.

"You what?"

"Well… I'm not sure how helpful this is, but I distinctively… caught the scent… of the Dering Woods. On that werewolf. My family lived fairly close to those woods for a while, so the scent is very familiar, and..."

Manard's face suddenly lit up. "I suppose we have plans for next week, then," he said with a grin. "How do you feel about another outing?"

"Not great," mumbled Remus. His soup had arrived, but he wasn't hungry anymore.

The Floo journey home was just as bad as the Floo journey to the forest in the first place, but in a different way.

When Remus had traveled to the Black Forest, he'd been afraid. He had feared the days to come, wandering through the forest with a man who hated him. He had been terrified of the future. He hadn't known what to expect.

But now, Remus knew what to expect, and that was almost worse.

Manard didn't only expect Remus to risk his life on this search for Greyback—no, he fully expected Remus to sacrifice himself for Manard's gain. And yes, there was other benefit in getting rid of Greyback, but… something just felt wrong about being asked to die to catch a man Remus hadn't even wanted to look for in the first place.

And Remus wasn't even being asked to die! He was being asked to give up his humanity—to live in horrible conditions for the rest of his life—to kill, even. It was worse than death, in Remus' opinion.

They walked in silence to Hogwarts, passing the Whomping Willow as they went. Remus tried to hold back tears. It really hurt that he had to do all this, and he didn't have a choice, and he never asked for this, but now it was so inescapable and terrifying that he was using far too many italics…

"This is where I leave you," said Manard once they reached Hogwarts. "Or, rather, where you leave me. Quickly, if you please. I'm getting to be quite tired of you."

The word "likewise" stuck in Remus' throat, and he left as quickly as possible.

He paused outside of the dormitory before entering.

In through his nose.

Out through his mouth.

It felt so good to be alone—to be truly alone. Remus sometimes wondered if he had taken isolation for granted upon coming to Hogwarts. At home, he had been able to retreat to his room if he ever needed a good cry. Here, he was nearly always around people of some sort. Even though Remus was about to enter a room full of good people, he was still nervous for some strange reason.

Finally, he knocked, with his Marauder Secret Knock that he didn't think he'd used used since first year or so. James, Sirius, and Peter were at the door in an instant. "Moony!" said James. "How did it go? Are you cured?"

Oh. Remus had almost forgotten about that lie.

"Of course not," he said. "The cure didn't work. I knew it wouldn't."

They fell silent, and Remus walked inside and took his shoes off, sitting down on his bed slowly, trying to ignore the aches and pains radiating throughout his body. The potion was helping, but Remus still had a few hours' worth of recovery to go.

"What did they do?" asked Peter. "You look a little more… sad than you normally do."

"I told you, I hate cures. I get my hopes up, and then I get let down. I'm sick and tired of it. Going in for potential cures reminds me of how permanent and inescapable lycanthropy is, and I hate it."

More silence.

"You never answered us," said James. "What did they do to you?"

"Nothing too bad. A couple of potions, injected directly into my bloodstream. I had to lie in bed while they monitored me. Just the usual stuff. Made me drowsy, and made my skin all prickly… but it didn't do anything."

"It might have done something!" protested James. "You don't know! You haven't transformed yet, after all!"

Remus sighed heavily. "I don't know how many times I have to tell you this, Prongs. I'm a werewolf, and I'm a werewolf right now, as we speak. I can feel the lycanthropy coursing through my veins. I can hear your heartbeat. I can feel the moon tugging at my bones. I will transform this month—I know it just as much as one knows when one is about to sneeze. I can feel it everywhere."

"Well then, we'll just need to find a way to make those transformations more tolerable," said James. "The Mandrake leaves are still in our mouths, Moony. Next full moon will be the official start of Part Two, and you'll find full moons positively easy when we're there beside you the whole time."

"It doesn't work that way," murmured Remus. He pulled on his pajamas and crawled under his covers. "I wish the world would just… just stop for a moment. You know? There's too much happening, and every second leads me closer to another full moon, and I just want to stop worrying about everything. Why can't it stop for just one moment?"

"It doesn't work that way," said James, echoing Remus' earlier words. "Want to play Exploding Snap with us?"

Remus looked up from his view of the pillow, incredulous. "I'm terribly stressed, utterly exhausted, and I'm so upset I can hardly think. Do you think I want to play Exploding Snap with you?"

"Yes," said James, smiling winningly.

Remus sighed, and then he smiled, too. "You're right," he said. "Where are the cards?"

School drama was slightly annoying, especially since Remus had been through much worse. He couldn't help but look down on other people and their problems—after all, what was a teenage argument compared to death threats, painful transformations, and wandering around a dark forest with his least favorite professor and people who probably wanted to kill him?

Therefore, when his friends dragged him to breakfast the next morning and started a major argument with Snape, Remus couldn't bear to intervene (not that he usually did). He sat, stony, at the table while his friends bickered with Snape's gang across the room—things hadn't gotten physical yet, and Remus prayed they wouldn't.

He didn't even know what the argument was about. All he knew was that Snape and Evans had been chatting one minute, and then James had walked past them—Remus hadn't heard what the two were talking about, because his enhanced senses hadn't been able to cut through the overwhelming noise of the crowd in the Great Hall. It must have been pretty terrible, because James' face was bright red, and Sirius looked like he was ready to murder someone.

Remus watched, munching on toast. Eventually, he pulled out a book and began to read. He wasn't going to intervene. He hadn't started it. It wasn't his problem.

About ten minutes later, he couldn't help but steal a glance at Evans. Her face was bright red, either with embarrassment, anger, or both. She stormed away, letting the doors of the Great Hall fall behind her with a slam.

Now many of the students were watching the argument. Remus wasn't looking directly at them, but out of the corner of his eye, he saw Snape slowly draw his wand…

And James was too busy wallowing in his anger to see it.

Remus sighed, stood up, and pointed his wand at Snape. "Expelliarmus," he said calmly, and Snape's wand flew out of his hand, across the Hall, and into Remus'. Some of the students in the Great Hall began to clap. Snape looked infuriated. There was a slight screeching as of a chair being pushed back, and Remus saw Dumbledore rise to his feet, noticeable in his brilliant purple robes.

"The five of you," he said. Somehow, his quiet voice carried across the Great Hall like thunder. "Come with me, please."

Remus sighed and pocketed both his own wand and Snape's, and then he followed Dumbledore, James, Peter, Sirius, and Snape to Dumbledore's office.

So much for staying out of it.

"Duelling in the Great Hall, unauthorized, is a very serious offense," said Dumbledore. He looked at all five of them, one by one, his clear blue eyes scraping over each of their faces. "Severus, would you kindly tell me exactly what has happened?"

"But that's not fair!" protested James. "He's only going to lie, and—"

"James." Dumbledore stared at him gently, and James slowly sagged, defeated. "I will hear your side of the story directly afterwards. I promise. Now, Severus—please begin."

"Lily and I were just discussing Adamson," said Snape, a little desperately. "We talk about all sorts of things. We didn't say anything bad—it was just a discussion. Then James came up and started disagreeing loudly with everything I said, just to make me look bad in front of Lily!"

Remus felt waves of realization wash over him, and his head started to feel light. Heat dripped down his spine as anger and embarrassment took hold of his body. This was all because of Remus. Remus had tried so very hard to stay out of it, but he hadn't been able to, because the argument had been centered around him the whole time.

Through the ocean in his ears, he vaguely heard Snape and James arguing some more—then Dumbledore dismissed them, assuring Snape that he would punish James properly.

Snape left. After a while, so did James.

"Remus," said Dumbledore softly, his quiet voice somehow cutting through the swamp in Remus' ears. "I understand your concerns, but I assure you that this had nothing to do with you."

The shock dissolved as quickly as it had appeared. "What? Of course it did! They were discussing Adamson, and Snape said something James didn't like—of course it had to do with me!"

"No, Remus, it did not. You stopped listening at a crucial point. James did not argue with Snape for insulting you—he began to argue with him because he insulted Lily."

Remus was dumbstruck. "Lily… Evans?"

"Indeed. Snape said something about Hogwarts' political landscape. He said that it was like getting a… well, I shan't repeat the word he used, but a Muggle-born advocate to speak at Hogwarts. He clarified later that he just didn't support Hogwarts taking on political beliefs like that in a time of war, and that Hogwarts should be open to all without demonizing their personal beliefs. James snapped, though, and he hadn't even heard the werewolf comment. He didn't even know the conversation had begun with Adamson."

"Then why…? He doesn't even like Evans!"

"He dislikes injustice, and he speaks out sometimes against his better judgement. He does this with everybody, Remus, not just you."

"Oh." Remus' cheeks were bright red now, and he tried not to cry. "I overreacted, didn't I?"

"A bit," said Dumbledore airily, "but I say this not to shame you. I only say this to point out that if you, a calm and rational person, get so emotional about an instance such as that… well, then I might begin to suspect something else at play. Are you okay, Remus?"

It was then that Remus found out that the word "no" could be said in many different ways. There was the type of "no" that was true, with no secondary intent behind it, and then there was the type of "no" that was filled with "yes" like an eclair was filled with cream. It was the type of "no" that hinted at a deeper longing, a craving for something that was just out of reach. It was a tantalizing "no", because there was only a thin layer between this "no" and the resounding "yes" underneath… a "yes" struggling to win, a "yes" promising a future that Remus couldn't quite fathom…

A future of only pain and misery, no doubt, if Manard was involved (which he most certainly was. He always was).

Remus wanted more than anything to say "yes", to tell Dumbledore everything, to remove himself from this situation… but his secret was at stake, so Remus decided to wait and let the D.A.D.A. curse take care of Manard at the end of the year. Surely it would. It had to. If it had gotten Professor Questus, who was a good person very deep down; Pensley, who was infuriating but only wanted the best for her students; Dilley, who certainly had the know-how to get rid of it had it been possible… then surely, surely Manard would not be able to escape it. He would be gone with the passing of the year; Remus was certain of it. All he had to do was wait.

"No," said Remus, the cream nearly spilling out of the eclair, and Dumbledore dismissed him.