Remus had informed Dumbledore that he and Aurora had stepped away from their patrol due to health reasons. It was a small lie, but one he didn't dwell on. He could tell by the tightness in Aurora's shoulders and the haunted look in her eyes that she needed the reprieve far more than she would admit. Sirius Black might still have been in the castle, but someone else would have to deal with him. Right now, Moonridge needed someone to anchor her.

Aurora stayed in Remus's chambers until three in the morning, seated on the worn couch that carried the faint scent of parchment and lavender. She had barely spoken as the hours crawled by, sipping her tea while Remus worked to create a semblance of normalcy. The crackle of the fire was the only sound, punctuated now and then by the scrape of a teacup or the quiet rustle of fabric as one of them shifted.

When the news finally came that Black had escaped the castle, it brought a wave of collective relief but also a deeper exhaustion that settled heavily on both of them. The announcement, delivered by one of the house-elves in a hurried whisper, marked the end of a tense, sleepless night.

Afterward, Lupin walked Aurora back to her quarters. The corridors were eerily silent, their footsteps echoing softly in the empty halls. Neither spoke much during the short journey, words felt unnecessary. At her door, Remus hesitated for a moment, watching her closely as if to ensure she would truly be all right before saying a quiet goodnight and turning away.

Neither of them slept again that night. Aurora lay awake staring at the ceiling, her thoughts chasing themselves in circles. Remus, back in his chambers, kept the fire burning until dawn, a book open in his lap though he barely read a word. They were fortunate it was Sunday, neither she nor he would have been in any state to teach a lesson.

On Monday, November 29th, before classes began, Lucrecia Moonridge stormed into her sister's office near the History of Magic classroom, her school shoes squeaking against the stone floor. Aurora, seated at her desk with a steaming cup of tea, looked up in surprise as the door swung open without so much as a knock.

Lucrecia's face was flushed, her expression a mix of worry and irritation, and her bag was slung haphazardly over one shoulder. Without a word, she marched up to Aurora's desk and dropped two tightly rolled parchments onto its surface, the scrolls landing with a loud thud.

"And how about a good morning?" Aurora asked, raising an eyebrow. Her tone was light, though there was an undertone of curiosity. She gestured at the parchments. "What's all this?"

"Read it," Lucrecia said shortly, her tone tight. She pointed to the larger of the two scrolls, her finger jabbing at a specific spot. "Start here. Out loud."

Aurora sighed, setting her cup of tea aside and unrolling the parchment. She cleared her throat, then began to read.

"A werewolf is easiest to recognize by the fact that a few days before and after the full moon, he is unusually pale and generally in poor health. On these days, he has photophobia and is unable to function fully due to his poor health. This means that werewolves are usually excluded from any life for a period of a few days a month."

As she finished, Aurora set the parchment down and looked at her younger sister with a bemused expression. "Very nicely written," she said, smoothing out the scroll. "Have you been discussing werewolves with Professor Lupin already?"

Lucrecia frowned, crossing her arms over her chest. "Don't pretend you don't know," she muttered. "Snape told us to write this essay on Friday when he was filling in for Professor Lupin. What a coincidence that the assignment just happened to fall right before the full moon."

Aurora froze for a split second, though she quickly masked her reaction. Her fingers idly traced the edge of the parchment as she replied calmly, "And?"

Lucrecia leaned forward, her voice lowering as though someone might overhear. "And," she said, her voice wavering slightly, "it's obvious Snape wanted us to figure it out. He didn't say anything outright, but it was all in the way he explained the task. It's like he wanted us to notice the connection. Aurora, I think some people already have."

Aurora's heart sank, though her face betrayed nothing but mild interest. "Lucrecia," she said slowly, choosing her words carefully, "students are always speculating about their teachers. It doesn't mean they know anything concrete."

Her sister shifted on her feet, uncertainty flashing in her eyes. "I know," she said softly, "but I'm worried about Professor Lupin. What if someone takes it too far? What if they try to—" She broke off, biting her lip. "He's a good teacher, Aurora. I don't want anything bad to happen to him."

Aurora's stomach churned, and for a moment, she had no words. Finally, she stood, walking around the desk to place a gentle hand on her sister's shoulder. "Lucrecia," she said, her tone warm but firm, "thank you for caring. Truly. But this isn't something for you to take on yourself. Professor Lupin has people looking out for him."

Lucrecia looked up at her sister, her expression uncertain. "But what if Snape keeps pushing? Or if someone... figures it out for real?"

Aurora's grip on her sister's shoulder tightened slightly, a silent reassurance. "If that happens," she said, "it won't be because of anything you did or didn't do. All you need to worry about is being the wonderful, kind-hearted student I know you are. Leave the rest to the adults."

Lucrecia studied Aurora's face for a long moment before finally nodding. "Okay," she said quietly, though her worry hadn't completely faded.

With a soft sigh, she grabbed the second parchment from the desk and turned toward the door. As she reached it, she paused and glanced back over her shoulder. "You're sure he'll be okay?"

Before Aurora could answer, there was a soft knock at the open door. Both sisters turned to see Remus standing in the doorway, his expression curious but warm.

"Am I interrupting?" he asked gently, his gaze flicking between them.

Aurora offered a quick smile, though her heart skipped a beat. "Not at all, Remus," she said. "Lucrecia and I were just finishing up."

Lucrecia's cheeks flushed as she quickly grabbed her parchment and slung her bag over her shoulder. She glanced at Remus for a moment, her expression unreadable, before murmuring, "Good morning, Professor."

With that, she hurried past him and out the door, leaving Aurora and Remus alone in the office.

Aurora let out a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding and gestured for Remus to come in. "What brings you here this early?"

Remus stepped inside, closing the door behind him, and gave her a small, knowing smile. "I had a feeling we might need to talk."

"Did you hear?" she asked, her voice tight with tension.

"Yes," he replied shortly, stepping further into the room. His presence brought a sense of calm, though Aurora could see the weariness in his eyes. "Sorry, my senses are heightened by the full moon today. I was just heading back to my quarters and... I happened to pass your classroom."

Aurora frowned, her fingers tightening slightly around the edge of her desk. "Snape wanted to make the students aware of your condition," she said, her voice rising with anger. "He's such a dick."

Remus gave a faint, humorless chuckle, the corners of his lips twitching upward before settling back into a somber line. "Yeah..."

Aurora sighed, running a hand through her hair as frustration bubbled up. "Do you think many will figure it out?" she asked, her voice softer now, tinged with worry.

Remus leaned against the edge of the desk, folding his arms loosely. "I don't know," he said after a moment, his tone thoughtful. "It depends on how many of them actually did the assignment." He tilted his head slightly, a faint glimmer of hope in his voice. "If I'm not mistaken, there was a Quidditch match this weekend. That tends to take priority over essays."

Aurora gave a short laugh at that, though it lacked real humor. "You're hoping a school full of procrastinating teenagers will save your secret."

He smiled wryly, finally meeting her gaze. "It's not the worst bet I've made."

The room fell into a brief silence, the weight of their conversation pressing down on them. The warm glow of the enchanted lamp on her desk softened the sharp lines of Remus's face, but it couldn't hide the tiredness etched into it.

"You shouldn't have to deal with this," Aurora said quietly, breaking the silence. "It's not fair."

"Life rarely is," Remus replied, his voice gentle but resigned. "But I appreciate your concern, truly."

"What are we going to do about this?" Aurora asked, her voice laced with concern as she leaned forward, her hands clasped tightly in her lap. "We can't let Snape get another chance to hint about your condition. It's not fair to you, and it's certainly not his secret to share."

Remus exhaled quietly, his gaze falling to the floor for a moment before meeting hers. "The lessons have to go on, Aurora," he said, his tone steady but laced with weariness. "We can't let the students fall behind in their studies. It wouldn't be right."

"Well," Aurora said abruptly, the words spilling out before she had time to fully consider them, "I could teach them instead of Snape."

Her statement hung in the air for a moment. The boldness of her offer made her cheeks flush slightly, but she didn't look away.

Remus tilted his head, studying her with a faint, appreciative smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "Do you think you could handle it?" he asked gently, his voice soft. "Don't get me wrong, I'm incredibly grateful, but you already have so much on your plate. I wouldn't want to burden you with... my stuff."

Aurora's brow furrowed slightly, her tone firm yet kind as she replied, "Remus, I like you. I really do. And I'd be happy to do this for you. Not because I feel obligated, but because I want to. I'd do it even if it wasn't for your... furry problems."

Remus let out a quiet chuckle, his eyes shimmering with a mixture of amusement and nostalgia. "Furry problems..." he echoed, his voice softening. His gaze drifted for a moment, as if he were looking at something only he could see. "James used to call it that too. He'd always find a way to make even the worst situations sound ridiculous. That was James for you, making life lighter."

Aurora's expression softened, a small smile spreading across her lips. "Sounds like he was a good friend," she said gently.

"The best," Remus murmured, his smile tinged with bittersweet longing. He shook his head slightly, as if clearing away the memory, and looked back at her. "But seriously, Aurora, are you sure about this? I don't want you to feel like you have to take this on just because..."

"Just because I care?" she interrupted, her tone teasing but sincere. "Look, Remus, I can handle it. Besides, I'm not about to let Snape's 'accidental' assignments ruin what you've built with your students. You're a great teacher, and your students respect you. I won't let anyone undermine that, least of all him."

Remus regarded her for a long moment, his expression softening further. "Thank you," he said finally, his voice quiet but full of genuine gratitude. "Really, Aurora. It means more than you know."

And Remus hugged her. Sincerely, with a warmth and care that seemed to flow straight from his very being. Because that was all Remus — kindness, empathy, and a depth of understanding that needed no words.