"James is gone," announced Remus as he returned to the dormitory. "I tricked him into taking me to the Hospital Wing, but really I was the one taking him there. I lingered outside the door for a bit, and I heard Madam Pomfrey say that he's extremely sleep-deprived and is going to have to spend the night. He won't be back until tomorrow morning, lads."

"Thank goodness!" cried Sirius. "Do you know what this means?"

"That we can sleep in peace without hearing him read the entire History of Magic textbook tonight?"

"No! Well, yes, but also no. This means that we have the perfect opportunity to get rid of Kyle."

Remus must have looked surprised, because Sirius rolled his eyes. "Come on, Moony. You can't possibly think that anyone but Prongs wants him around. Wormy and I both want Kyle gone, too. He's a disgusting-looking little bugger."

"So are you," said Remus. "Where are you planning on taking him? You don't know where his parents are."

"I don't really have a plan. Do you?"

"I think we should take him to Flitwick."

"And get into massive amounts of trouble? I don't think so."

"You're a Marauder. Why do you care about getting into trouble?"

"There's a difference between getting in trouble for writing a nasty word on Snape's head with permanent ink and kidnapping a baby."

"True, but there's also a difference between kidnapping a baby and killing a baby, and we'll kill him if we put him on the streets in this sort of weather."

"Ugh, you're right. What class do we have next?"

"Charms. It's perfect. We go to Charms, we talk to Flitwick, and we get advice."

"Or we could skive, sneak to Hogsmeade, and leave him in Gringotts with a note."

"They'll notice."

"Not if we do it tonight after Gringotts' open hours."

Remus blinked. "I'm sorry, Padfoot. For a moment I thought I heard you suggest that we break into Gringotts, and I'm ashamed I would think you to be so stupid, even for only a moment. What are you really saying?"

"That's exactly what I'm saying. With my brains, your werewolf senses, and Wormtail's paranoia, we make the perfect team. I think we could do it. Kyle spends all night in a nice, warm building, and the goblins find him in the morning and return him to his parents. No one gets into trouble, least of all us."

"No! We have too much to lose! Sirius, if we tell Flitwick, then we get detention. If we break into Gringotts, then we go to Azkaban! Well, you and Peter will go to Azkaban."

"What, you think they'll let you out for good behavior or something?"

"Why, yes. I think I'll be so well-behaved that they'll release me... directly to the executioner, that is, since Azkaban can't hold werewolves!"

Sirius rolled his eyes. "You're so dramatic, Moony. We won't get caught. We're just going to pop in, place Kyle on the ground, and then pop out. No one will know."

"Except for their sound and movement sensors. You think Kyle is going to be quiet all night? You don't think he'll set off the alarms, even if we don't first?"

Sirius looked at Peter, who was holding a struggling and erping Kyle. "Er… yeah, you might be right. Why don't we wait until it's nearly morning and place Kyle just outside Gringotts? He won't be outside in the cold for that long, and we won't be doing anything illegal."

"Oh, you know, except for when James kidnapped Kyle in the first place. There will be people out that early in the morning."

"Psh. How would you know there are morning people in Hogsmeade?"

"Because I hear them from the Shrieking Shack. I transform back anywhere from six to seven. Sometimes they make noise both before and after the fact, and I have excellent hearing."

"Okay, fine. Look, Moony, I truly believe that this is the best option, all right? There's a chance that nobody gets into trouble!"

Remus took a deep breath, stared at Kyle, and then shrugged at Peter.

And Remus didn't say no.

They locked the door tightly before heading to Charms class, and then they sealed it shut with a Temporary Sticking Charm. They had learned yesterday in Care of Magical Creatures that Kyle was quite capable of unlocking doors and turning doorknobs, thanks to James' incredible jumping shirt. Remus could hardly listen in Charms class: he was too busy thinking about how much trouble he'd be in if someone caught him… how cold Kyle would get, waiting out there all alone… how difficult it would be to put him on the ground without anyone seeing… how scared Kyle would be, all alone in the freezing cold.

"This is such a bad idea," he whispered.

"You think so?" said Flitwick, and Remus jumped. Curse his excellent werewolf hearing and terrible perception of human hearing. "And why, exactly, do you think that separating into small groups to practice the Freezing Charm is a bad idea, Lupin?"

"Er," said Remus. "I'm sorry, Professor. I was talking to myself about something else."

Flitwick looked at him suspiciously, but he didn't say anything. "All right, then. Split into groups of three. Give each other advice and take their advice yourselves. The first group to master the Freezing Charm—and I mean everybody in the group masters the Freezing Charm—gets ten House points each."

"Unlucky Wormtail's on our team, eh?" whispered Sirius, and Remus gave him a furious look. "Oh, you don't get to be angry with me, Moony. You nearly gave our secret away in the middle of class."

"Did not."

"Did too."

"To work, boys," said Flitwick disapprovingly.

And, true to Sirius' prediction, Peter did not successfully cast a Freezing Charm—but neither did Remus, who was far too preoccupied with worry to focus on much of anything else. Snape's team ended up winning the House points, and Sirius scowled until suppertime.

"So here's my plan," said Sirius. "We get out there are around six-thirty—Gringotts opens at seven—and put Kyle on the doorstep when no one is looking. I say we wear Prongs' Invisibility Cloak, and we cast a Disillusionment Charm on Kyle… then we remove it from Kyle when we're a good fifty feet away!"

"About fifteen meters?" mumbled Remus. Wizards used the customary system, but Remus' mother had brought him up on the metric system—even with a wizarding father who used the customary system religiously, Remus still had to think about the measurements sometimes. "I'm not sure we can aim well from fifty feet away."

"Fine. We'll do it a little closer. It won't even matter, because the rest of us will still be under the Cloak. You see my point?"

"I suppose. I'm not thrilled about going to Hogsmeade at six-thirty."

"We'll have to be up at five-thirty so that we can get dressed and walk over there."

"I'm even less thrilled about that."

"Well, are you more thrilled about letting Prongs read to Kyle every night for years? Are you more thrilled about letting that little monster into the Marauders? Are you more thrilled about being a parent, basically, for the rest of your Hogwarts career?"

Remus bristled at the word monster, but he didn't say anything about it. "I'd be tons more thrilled if we just turned Kyle in to a professor."

"Only because you're a coward," Sirius teased. "Now, let's all go to bed early tonight so that we can be well-rested for our grand escapade tomorrow. Don't worry—I'll make sure you're all awake in time."

"I'm sure you will," mumbled Peter, and Remus laughed. He brushed his teeth, fed Bufo some flies, crawled under his covers, and then prepared to get as much sleep as he possibly could before morning….

"Er, I have a problem," said Peter timidly.

Remus opened his eyes.

"Kyle won't let go of my arm."

With much effort, Remus sat up and pushed aside his bedcurtains: sure enough, Peter was trying to put Kyle into the makeshift bed James had constructed for him out of an empty trunk and some blankets, and Kyle was clinging to Peter's arm for dear life.

"I got it," said Sirius with a long-suffering sigh, so Remus lay back down and closed his eyes. He heard some shuffling as Sirius tried to pry Kyle off of Peter's arm, and then he heard Sirius' frustrated groan.

"Moony, I need help. Kyle's stronger than I thought."

Remus sighed and sat up with a fair amount of difficulty. "Have you tried reading to him?" he sniped.

"Maybe he's hungry. We should bribe him with food."

"We fed him half an hour ago."

"Maybe baby goblins have to eat more than baby humans do."

"I don't think so. Maybe we could just… I dunno. Maybe we could use a Freezing Charm?"

"How would that help?"

"He wouldn't be able to squeeze any more tightly. We wait ten minutes, until he's relatively relaxed, and then we strike. His strength comes from continuous squeezing—if we freeze him, he stops squeezing. Right?"

"I'm not sure that's how it works," said Sirius, "but sure. Let's try it."

It didn't work.

Remus sighed. "I suppose we could brew a Weakening Potion, but it would take all night."

"All right," said Sirius, "I have an idea. Moony, let me borrow your History of Magic textbook. I lost mine last week."

"What? How did you lose it?"

"Threw it at some Slytherins. Come on, Moony."

"I don't want you up all night reading to him."

"Trust me, I won't do that. I read to him until he lets go of Wormtail's arm, and then you cast a Freezing Charm on him as soon as he does. Then we put him in the bathroom and lock the door. Sound good?"

"No! Just put him to bed—don't lock him in the bathroom all night! That's child abuse!"

"No, it's not! This isn't even a child! It's a goblin!"

"You can't mistreat a creature just because it's not human!"

"Oh, don't play that card. Locking up someone dangerous isn't child abuse, and you don't believe it is, either. Your parents locked you in the cellar all night once a month, every month, since you were four."

"Five."

"Don't care. Would you rather Wormtail's arm be black and blue tomorrow morning? Would you rather we never rid ourselves of Kyle?"

"I… okay. I suppose it's the best option."

"Good."

Remus reluctantly handed Sirius his History of Magic textbook, and Sirius began to read. Sure enough, not even three paragraphs later, Kyle started to let go of Peter's arm… after a couple of good shakes, Kyle had let go entirely and was listening intently on the floor as Sirius read.

"Immobulus," said Remus miserably, and Kyle went rigid.

Sirius clapped his hands. "Excellent! Now let's get him to the bathroom. Tomorrow morning, we open the door, immobilize him as quickly as possible, and then put him in a large suitcase so that we can carry him to Hogsmeade more easily. Got all that?"

Remus did, in fact, get all that… but that didn't make him feel any better about it.

Sometimes Remus wondered about morality.

It was an expected consequence of being condemned as immoral for nearly his entire life. People had told Remus, over and over, that he was a monster—a bad person—not even a person. Over and over, Remus had seen good people, who normally had excellent morals, say awful things about werewolves. Over and over, Remus had wondered how much of it was true.

Remus had once perused the werewolf section of the library. He'd found a book titled The Morality of Werewolves and had plucked it off the shelf, vaguely intrigued (but at the same time doubtful that it was anything he hadn't heard before). Sure enough, it started with all the normal nonsense about werewolves' inability to love or act human, and then it descended into much more radical claims.

Say there is such a thing as a morally good werewolf, the book had said. Say there is such a thing as a werewolf that aims to live and let live. Say there is such a thing as a werewolf who would be loathe to kill a human being. If so, then the moral thing for that werewolf to do would be to die upon receiving the bite.

Since werewolf bites cannot be healed by anything but a combination of silver and Dittany, a bitten individual will bleed out without the concoction. Therefore, there is a choice: the werewolf individual, therefore, has chosen to live on, despite the fact that they know their morality will leave them, despite the fact that they could very well kill and destroy, despite the fact that they may become as feared and awful as Fenrir Greyback himself. Every werewolf has made the decision to unleash death upon the world, and that in and of itself is unforgivable.

Remus… had sort of agreed, actually.

It hadn't been his choice to live on as a werewolf, of course, so the book's claim didn't apply to him. He'd been a terrified four-year-old (nearly five), confused and scared to death. His parents had made the decision for him... and even if the four-year-old Remus himself had decided, it wouldn't have been a fully informed choice. He'd been too young to understand.

But still… Remus could see where the writer of the book was coming from. Werewolves were potentially dangerous, the choice to save one's own life over the lives of many others did seem selfish from an outside perspective.

The fact was, though, there was much more to it than a simple trade of lives. Remus protected other people on the full moon, and he was hardly inhuman at all during the day. There was more beneath the surface that Remus saw and the author of that terrible book did not. From the author's perspective, Remus could agree a little. But it just wasn't that simple.

Bad things seemed bad from an outside perspective, but sometimes there were good reasons behind those bad things. Sometimes there were explanations that would take a lifetime to explain, and sometimes the explanation was greater than the sum of its parts. Remus was a firm believer that bad people were rarely bad people—they were just misunderstood people, and good people sometimes liked to see the bad in others in order to feel better about themselves.

Well, not Manard. Manard was a bad person. And Greyback was also a bad person. But still.

Anyway, the point was that Remus and his friends had just left a suitcase containing a baby goblin in front of Gringotts. And, while this probably looked highly illegal from the outside, Remus was convinced that he wasn't doing the wrong thing. How could he be? He was just trying to secure his spot at Hogwarts (because Sirius had been right—Remus really didn't want to get into trouble, not when his admission to Hogwarts had been so rare and unexpected in the first place). Remus was doing the right thing, albeit in a dangerous way.

Sure, he was lying to one of his best mates. Sure, he had failed to put his foot down and had not convinced James to bring Kyle back immediately. But Remus wasn't a bad person, not really… he was merely… well, his hands were tied. That was all. He had good intentions, and anyone else in his exact position probably would have done something similar.

The Marauders watched from a distance, safely hidden under the Invisibility Cloak and behind a dark corner, while people walked all around them. The suitcase sat there, undisturbed.

And then a goblin walked up to the doors of Gringotts. The goblin looked at the trunk… picked it up… and opened it.

Kyle popped out and immediately latched his fingers onto the goblin's arm, who shrieked and stepped back. A small crowd had amassed, and the three Marauders could no longer see what was going on. "I'm going to get closer," whispered Sirius.

"It's dangerous. They'll recognize you as a student," Remus said, but he hadn't said no. Two seconds later, Sirius was running toward the crowd.

Fortunately, no one was paying any attention to the fifteen-year-old boy; rather, they were all quite focused on the mysterious baby goblin in the trunk. Remus listened to the crowd closely.

"What are they saying?" whispered Peter a few minutes later.

Remus frowned. "Well, the man over there doesn't want his son to buy a new broomstick… and the lady standing over there thinks she might have a urinary tract infection. Sorry, Wormtail, there are far too many people around to hear what's happening all the way up there. Too many side conversations."

"I thought you had supernatural werewolf hearing."

"I mean… yeah, I do, but it amplifies all the sounds, not just the ones I'm listening for."

"Oh."

Remus and Peter waited for Sirius to return, and Remus' mind drifted back to morality. He hadn't been able to stop thinking about it, not since Manard had asked Remus to help find Greyback… was it Remus' duty to help? Was that the moral thing to do? After all, Remus did have a particular skillset that would help him to find Greyback...

But no. Remus did not owe anyone that. He did not owe anyone his death, he did not owe anyone his safety, he did not owe it to Dumbledore to jeopardize his friendships by saying no, he did not owe it to Snape to stop his friends from teasing him, and he certainly did not owe it to James (or to Kyle's real parents) to do what was hard rather than what was easy. As long as Remus was doing the right thing, everything balanced out in the end. Right?

Right.

Sirius returned, a grin on his face. "Good news," he said. "Kyle's father found him. Came running over, said, 'That's my son!' and then left, Kyle in his arms. Or should I say… Griphook? That's Kyle's real name."

"That's a stupid name," Peter muttered.

"Certainly explains Kyle's extraordinary grip," cracked Remus, and Sirius laughed.

"Excellent job, lads," he said. "Now let's get back to the castle and…"

Suddenly, Remus caught a familiar scent and whirled around. "JAMES?"

Sure enough, there stood James, sheepish but well-rested. "Yeah," he said, and Remus noticed that his voice had improved substantially. "Sorry about… all this. I assume Kyle's back with his parents?"

"Yes, no thanks to you."

"Yeah, sorry." James shuffled his feet. "I got a good night's sleep last night and thought about some things. Then I came back to the dormitory and saw that Kyle was missing, and… I put the pieces together and found you here. I'm glad Kyle is back where he belongs."

"How did you put those pieces together?" muttered Peter. "It was a fairly convoluted plan."

"I'm very bright… and also, I know how Sirius thinks."

Sirius grinned. "You weren't about to keep Kyle a secret for three and a half years, mate."

"I know. Honestly, I... I'm thankful you returned him. Thank you. Look, I… think I need to make a few apologies. I'm really sorry for snapping at you about Duelling Club, Moony. That was out of line. And I'm sorry for ruining your birthday, Padfoot. I just… ugh. There's no excuse, really. I was just in a weird mood, and I acted out. Sorry. It won't happen again. I know I'm a spoiled brat, and I'm just not used to not getting my way, and sometimes things just accumulate, and... I'm working on it."

"No worries." Sirius high-fived James, and that seemed to be it.

James brightened considerably at the quick forgiveness, and he turned to Remus. "Are we okay, too?"

"We're fine," said Remus warmly. "I understand. Everyone does things they're not proud of sometimes. Just... don't kidnap a baby again, all right?"

"I promise!" said James, grinning. "And hey, speaking of secrets… now that we're already here, why don't you show us the Shrieking Shack, Moony?"

Remus blanched at the harsh transition. "What?"

"I mean, you've already agreed to let us become Animagi, and we've been working on our plan every time you're gone. You might as well show us where we'll be going to help you transform."

Dread pooled in the pit of Remus' stomach as he frantically searched for a good excuse. "I, er… don't think that's a good idea."

"Why not?"

"Don't we have classes?"

"It's Saturday."

"Oh. Look, I'm not sure Professor Dumbledore has cleaned it up yet, and…"

"Why would we care? We're going to see the whole transformation someday!"

"Padfoot is afraid of blood."

"He's going to see the whole transformation, too."

"I don't want to tell you how to get in until I know you can be safe around me transformed."

"Why? You think we're stupid?"

"Yes. You kidnapped a baby goblin."

James sighed. "Okay, fine. I guess we're a little stupid sometimes, but we're not suicidal, mate. We know not to get near you on a full moon. We're not that bad."

Remus gazed in the direction of the Shrieking Shack, even though he couldn't see it from where he stood. From an outside perspective, he was sure, something like this would look horribly dumb and immoral… but outside perspectives were often wrong, weren't they? Such was the complicated idea of morality.

So, instead of saying no, Remus led his friends back up toward Hogwarts grounds, towards the Whomping Willow, and away from his better judgment.