Remus was supposed to go to Professor Flitwick and tell him about the goblin. Remus was supposed to get the whole thing shut down. Remus was supposed to be the responsible one. But alas, Remus' greatest weakness by far was that he could not tell his friends "no".

James was currently feeding Kyle some apples from the Kitchens with one hand and reading a book on goblin care with the other, Sirius was sulking on his bed complaining about how it was his birthday and he deserved to have a goblin-less day, Peter was watching James nervously and jumping whenever Kyle's jaw snapped shut around an apple, and Remus had not gone to Professor Flitwick.

James tore his eyes off Kyle for an instant and watched Remus pace back and forth across the rug. "You look ill, Moony," he said. "There are bags under your eyes, and you're limping a little."

"I'm always ill," grumbled Remus. "And it gets worse when I'm nervous, particularly about a mysterious goblin in my dormitory."

"Not mysterious. We know he's a goblin. Mystery solved!"

"We don't know where he came from, though. We don't know how dangerous he is. We don't know how to return him!"

"We don't have to return him. He's mine now."

"You can't just hide a baby goblin in the dormitory!"

"Yes, I can. I'm James Potter. I can do anything."

"Argh!"

Indeed, Remus could not say "no" to his friends. Sure, it sounded a lot like he was saying "no", but he wasn't really—this was just banter, the type he did constantly, no matter the mood or goal. He wasn't putting his foot down. He wasn't doing anything about it. And…

"Oh, by the way," said James, "We've been doing research for the past couple of months while we waited for you to calm down about it, and we think next month is an excellent time to start the Animagus process again."

"That's a terrible idea," mumbled Remus, but he still wasn't saying "no".

He really, really needed to learn how to say that word.

The Marauders went to Care of Magical Creatures that morning, and Kyle was (supposedly) sleeping in James' bed.

"Don't worry," said James. "He's well-behaved. He'll stay there."

"He'll wake up all alone in a strange place," said Remus, but he still wasn't saying "no".

They walked the rest of the way to the Care of Magical Creatures "classroom" (if it could even be called that—it was nothing much more than a patch of dirt and some benches). They were learning about magical species of fish today, and Remus settled in for another long class of trying to pretend the creatures weren't scared to death of him.

After Remus had requested to take the elective, nervous and anxious about how the animals would treat him, Professor Kettleburn had promised Remus that his lycanthropy wouldn't pose a problem. It did, of course. It always did, in every second of Remus' life. It posed a problem when Remus tried to climb the infinite Hogwarts staircases with creaky and sore joints; it posed a problem when Remus was too fatigued to complete his homework; it even posed a problem when he wanted to do something as simple as running around, wreaking havoc with his friends. The moon was a terrible, all-encompassing presence in Remus' life, and no amount of academic allowances or experiments with Bowtruckles would help him escape it. And, now that James' goblin escapades had put him in a bad mood, he couldn't help but be even more self-pitying about the whole thing.

He sat there, passively listening to Kettleburn talk… and then he heard a noise.

There were too many people to pick out a scent, but the noise rang clear and true: a sack of something, hopping and flumping closer, and tiny little noises that sounded a lot like "erp".

"Prongs," Remus hissed.

"Shh," whispered James. "I'm trying to listen."

"No, you aren't. You never listen."

James grinned. "Fair enough. What's wrong?"

Remus nodded his head at the offending item: one of James' shirts, with what was undoubtedly Kyle inside, hopping closer and closer to the Care of Magical Creatures classroom. James swore under his breath, and Remus gave him his best "I-told-you-so" look.

"Don't look at me like that, Moony," said James. "It's just as much your fault as it is mine."

"My fault? How is it my fault?"

"You never told me not to do it."

Remus sighed. "You're impossible," he said. "Now, how are you going to get Kyle away without anyone noticing?"

Now Sirius leaned in, a grin on his face. "Look at that familiar shirt," he crowed quietly. "I have a feeling someone is going to be confiscated very soon."

"Shut up," said James, his face a little pink. "I'm going to save Kyle. Watch me."

"Someone missed his mummy," Peter whispered, and Remus' hand flew up to his mouth to conceal his laughter.

All the while, Kyle hopped ever closer, until James could finally reach out and—

"What are you doing, Potter?" asked Kettleburn suddenly, and James jumped.

"Erm," said James. "Well, I… er…"

"Is that a shirt?"

James grabbed Kyle in one fluid movement, as if he was grabbing a Snitch, and held Kyle to his chest. "No," he said.

"Why is there a hopping shirt?"

"There isn't. I just… erm, I had an extra shirt in my bag for after Quidditch practice, and Remus was joking around, and he threw the shirt."

"I thought I saw it hop."

"Trick of the light?"

Kettleburn looked at Remus uncertainly, probably stunned that the quiet werewolf would do something so silly as throwing a classmate's shirt. Remus often tried his hardest to fly under the radar—if more people knew who he was, it would be much harder to hide his secret—so throwing a shirt was a type of whim to which Remus would never succumb.

"Perhaps so," said Kettleburn. "Just… hang onto that shirt a little more tightly, eh, Potter?"

"I will if Remus doesn't," said James with a wink, trying all the more desperately to keep Kyle still and hidden. Remus could hear Kyle's heavy breaths from within the shirt, and he thanked his lucky stars that his professors did not have heightened werewolf senses like he did.

Kettleburn turned back to the lesson, and James rubbed the shirt in a way Remus supposed was meant to be soothing. "It's all right, Kyle," Remus heard James whisper. "Just stay very still."

Kyle, however, did not listen. Just as Kettleburn began talking about fire crabs, Kyle starting wriggling around like an angry snake. James turned around, shielding the dancing shirt from Kettleburn. At first, Kettleburn was too involved in his lesson to notice, but then he turned around and saw James, hunched over and facing away from the class.

"What is it now, Potter?" he asked, evidently exasperated.

"Er," said James. "I have a stomachache."

"Do you need to see Madam Pomfrey?"

"I think so. Just… let me get over this wave of nausea first, and then I'll go."

"Fine," said Kettleburn, and then he continued his fire crab lesson. All the while, he looked at James suspiciously, who was trying his best not to let Kyle be seen.

"Give it up, Prongs," muttered Remus.

"Never!" said James. "I need to keep Kyle safe. I'm his dad now. You wouldn't understand, Moony—you're not a dad."

"Neither are you. You're a teenager who stole someone's baby!" Remus scowled at James and shook his head in the most disapproving manner possible… but he still wasn't saying no, was he? Oh, Remus was awful at this.

"You must stay away from Fire Crabs whenever possible," Kettleburn was saying. "But if you must approach it, then approach it from the front. You're likely to get burned if you do so from behind. And always remember… Potter, what on earth is in that shirt?"

"Nothing!" cried James, grasping the violently wriggling shirt to his chest. "There is nothing in the shirt. Nothing but shirt, haha. The shirt is made of… shirt. Cotton. Yes. 100% shirt. That's all."

Kettleburn gave him a suspicious look. "I don't assume I can get you to tell me what's in that shirt," he said, "so I won't try. Instead, I'm sending you to Madam Pomfrey for your… erm… stomachache. Go there right away. I can't have you in class around XXX beasts if you're going to be cuddling a shirt the whole time."

There was laughter, and James saluted Kettleburn proudly. "Yes, sir," he said. "Going to see Poppy Pomfrey right this instant. Carry on with your lesson."

James ran away, tripping over his own feet, shirt held firmly to his chest. Somehow, Remus doubted very much that he was heading to the Hospital Wing.

"So how was the rest of Care of Magical Creatures?" James asked as Remus and Sirius stumbled into the dormitory. Kyle was sitting on James' lap, and James was… reading him a story, it looked like.

"The Fire Crab got angry at me," grumbled Remus. "Shot fire directly at me and Peter. Peter got a second-degree burn on his hand and is currently in the Hospital Wing. I'm withdrawing from Care of Magical Creatures."

"Woah," said James. "That's… a lot. You're really withdrawing?"

"He's not," said Sirius. "He wanted to, and he's going to be freaking out for the next couple of days, I think. Thinks he's dangerous and all that. Same old tosh since first year. But he won't withdraw—Kettleburn won't let him. Kettleburn loves him."

"Only because I'm a dangerous creature myself," muttered Remus.

Sirius rolled his eyes. "Oh, stop it with the self-deprecating nonsense. We have bigger problems at hand."

"Like Peter's hand, which was burnt to a crisp?"

"He's fine, Moony! Poppy healed it in three seconds."

"But it looked like it hurt."

"Significantly less than what happens to you every month."

Remus gave a one-shouldered shrug, sighed, and looked at Kyle. "What's he doing?" asked Remus.

Kyle was banging both hands on the pages of the book, scowling. "Oh," said James. "I think he wants me to continue reading. Do you mind if I do? I'll try to be quiet. I know Moony usually naps after Care of Magical Creatures when it's this soon after a full moon."

Remus blinked. Even he didn't know that his nap times were so predictable, but now that he thought about it, he was a little bit tired. "I'm not going to nap," he decided. "I'm going to visit Peter in the Hospital Wing. Keep reading, Prongs. Kyle looks like… he might get very angry if you don't."

Kyle bared his sharp teeth, and James laughed. "Fine," he said. "Come on, Kyle, cuddle up. We'll finish reading this chapter and then I'll tuck you in."

Remus watched James read for a moment, and then he shook his head and left the dormitory. He had much bigger fish to fry than James' impromptu adoption and the look of pure exasperation on Sirius' face.

Remus knocked lightly on the Hospital Wing door, and Madam Pomfrey opened it almost immediately. "Do you always open the door this quickly?" asked Remus.

"I try my best, but I try a little bit harder when it's you."

"How… how do you know…?"

"First of all, most people don't knock. Second, I think I recognize your knock by now. I hear it at least once a month, and I wish I heard it more. You need some rest every now and then. But I suppose that's not why you're here?"

"No, Madam Pomfrey. I'm here to see—"

"Pettigrew, yes. I know. Go on, then. He's fine, by the way!"

Peter, who was lying in the farthest bed from the door, moaned pitifully. "But it hurt," he said, his voice as thin as reeds, and Remus' heart broke.

"It was nothing," said Madam Pomfrey. "Yes, a nasty injury by Muggle standards, but you're fine now. I swear, Remus, your friend Pettigrew is the exact opposite of you. You try to leave too early, and he wants to stay in here forever."

"I wanted to stay in here forever a little while ago, too," said Remus.

"Yes, well, that was abnormal."

Remus looked around. There were a couple of other students there (more than one student had been burned during the Fire Crab lesson), but Remus wasn't worried about how they would perceive his familiarity with Madam Pomfrey. They were speaking quietly, and he'd told many people by now that he had a chronic illness of sorts. It kept the questions to a minimum.

"How are you feeling?" Remus asked Peter, sitting by his bed. "I've brought you some things from the Kitchens."

Peter sat up eagerly. "Like what?"

"Dry toast. It always helps me when I've, erm…" Remus looked at the few students in the Hospital Wing. "When I'm ill."

"Oh." Peter accepted the dry toast, but he didn't look happy about it. "See, Remus, when I'm injured, it's safe to assume that I want chocolate cake or something of the sort."

"I'll keep that in mind for next time," Remus chuckled.

Remus didn't want to talk about proper Hospital Wing foods, though. What he really wanted to talk about—what was pressing on his mind more than anything else—was the fact that he'd technically caused the injury. In a burst of sudden inspiration, he pulled out a parchment and quill and started writing.

Look, Wormtail, I'm really sorry, he wrote. You know animals don't like me very much because of what I am. I approached the Fire Crab at the wrong time and you were caught in the crossfire. Literally… fire. It was all my fault, and I'm really sorry.

Peter blinked. "What? That's silly."

"It's not silly. It's the truth."

"Well, I mean, even if the—"

Remus shoved his hand over Peter's mouth in a panic and handed him the parchment, pointedly, glancing at the others in the room. "Oh, right," said Peter, and he began writing.

It felt like a very long time before Peter finally handed the parchment back to Remus, and Remus read it as quickly as possible.

Kettleburn told us not to approach them from behind. I did, and it burned my hand. It was my fault, not yours, even if it did initially get angry because of you.

Remus shook his head. I should have never approached it in the first place.

"You're being stupid," said Peter aloud, and Remus buried his face in his hands.

"I just feel so bad…"

"And you shouldn't! Besides…" Peter glanced around furtively, and then he grabbed the parchment and started writing. I'm really only here for attention. I feel fine. When Madam Pomfrey healed me, the pain disappeared instantly. No harm done.

"Harm is still harm when it doesn't last."

"But not harm worth beating yourself up over forever."

"But it could happen again, and worse next time."

"It won't," said Peter firmly. "You know, I was hoping for a little bit of attention on me for once, and now it's all on you again. Why don't you just get me some chocolate cake and then take me back to the dormitory this evening? I think I'll have had my fill of attention by then."

Remus stood up and nodded slowly. "I think that can be arranged," he said, and then that's just what they did.

And, in between the cake and the exodus back to the dormitory, Remus took a nap on the hospital bed next to Peter's, because he really was in desperate need of a nap. Naps always seemed to clear his head of overthinking.

When they arrived back at the dormitory, however, James was still reading to Kyle.

And he kept reading all day.

"Prongs," said Remus patiently that evening, "I'd like to sleep now. Could you tuck Kyle in and… kiss him goodnight… and whatever else you need to do?"

"No," said James. "He starts snarling and snapping whenever I stop reading. I think he really wants me to get to the end of the book."

Remus looked at the book in James' hands, frowning. "Prongs… that's the History of Magic textbook."

"I thought it would put him to sleep! It always puts me to sleep!"

"It's ridiculously long. You'll be reading all night."

"I'm sure he'll fall asleep by then. Besides, there's nothing wrong with being a bookworm. You're a bit of a bookworm yourself, Moony."

Kyle was already scratching James' hand again, trying to get him to keep reading. Remus stared. "I'm going to bed," he said. "I hope he falls asleep soon, James."

"Me too," said James, and then he resumed reading.

And, as it turned out, it was very difficult to fall asleep to the strange sounds of James Potter reading a history textbook to a small, erp-ing creature. As Remus tried to sleep, he was constantly disturbed by James' constant coos and croons, Kyle's erps and snarls, and small scratching noises that were sometimes painful-sounding—more than once, Remus got out of bed to make sure James was still okay.

"Just go to sleep," came James' exhausted voice the third time it happened. "Kyle and I are doing just fine. Right, Kyle?"

"ERP," said Kyle.

"Fine, fine," muttered James. "I'll keep reading."

And James did. He read nearly all night, even when his voice started going. He read while Sirius and Peter and Remus tossed and turned. On he read, even after Remus got up and started pacing because he couldn't sleep. On he read, even after Sirius threw a pillow in his face. On he read, because every time he tried to stop, Kyle would start erp-ing loudly and digging his claws into James' hands.

"Can't you do that somewhere else?" Sirius groaned.

"No!" rasped James. "No one can know about Kyle."

"Please tell someone about Kyle," Remus begged, but he still wasn't saying "no".

So James kept reading, and eventually, Peter decided to take his things down to the common room and sleep there. Remus and Sirius followed: Sirius and Peter fell asleep on the sofas, and Remus slept on the floor with a heavy blanket and many pillows.

"Prongs is a little bit of an idiot," mumbled Remus as they were finally, finally drifting off to sleep, and none of his surrounding companions said "no".