Mallory and her parents were to arrive at nine o'clock the next day. Remus woke up at eight-thirty (why give himself extra time to worry?) and then scrambled to get dressed and clean his room one last time.

"Don't eat yet," called Remus' mother—both she and Remus' father had taken the day off from work. "I'm making them breakfast. We're all going to eat together to welcome them here."

Remus smelled pork and dreaded the inevitable wondering gazes when the Winthrops realized he wasn't eating the offered meat. He knew how this went. He'd been through it before. A werewolf avoiding meat? Either they'd assume the worst or the best, and there was no in-between.

Remus sat down on the couch, heartbeat out of control, to catch his breath. He hadn't even been sitting for ten minutes before an unfamiliar scent and the sounds of unfamiliar footsteps reached him. "They're here," he said; a moment later, a knock sounded at the door, and Remus had the strange urge to either hide or vomit.

"Oh, dear," said Remus' mother, bustling to the front door, spatula still in hand, apron still tied around her waist. She took a deep, audible breath… and then opened the door.

Mr. and Mrs. Winthrop stood there, smiling, and the greetings started immediately. Variations of "it's good to meet you" filled the room, and Remus' father took their trunks and ushered them in.

Mallory wasn't there yet, Remus didn't think.

Mr. and Mrs. Winthrop, Remus noticed, looked incredibly young. In fact, Remus would have believed it if Mr. Winthrop had said that he was in his late teens. Mr. Winthrop had a lot of hair and a little bit of stubble. Mrs. Winthrop had tired eyes and dark, curly hair that was pulled back. "Thank you so much for this," said Mrs. Winthrop. "It really means a lot."

"It's our pleasure, of course," chirped Remus' mother. "I've made breakfast. You can unpack first or eat first—whichever is most comfortable."

"I'm sure we'd like to eat first, if that's all right with you," said Mr. Winthrop with a shy smile. "We're famished."

Suddenly, Mallory came bursting through the door—curly hair and dark skin, a shade lighter than her mother's—and somehow, the left leg of her trousers was dripping wet. "Sorry," she panted. "I accidentally stepped into a puddle, I think. Oh, your floors are clean. I can go back outdoors and drip-dry for a bit. Sorry. Sorry again."

"No, it's all right!" said Remus' mother. For someone who had been cleaning the floors again and again all weekend, she didn't seem to be too bothered by Mallory's muddy feet on the floor.

Mrs. Winthrop smiled. "Mallory, why don't you go on and change your trousers? Mrs. Lupin, would you kindly show her to your bathroom?"

"Sorry," mumbled Mallory again as Remus' mother led her away. Her face was bright red.

All of a sudden, there was silence. Remus hadn't realized how much his mother had held together their albeit-awkward greeting until she was gone, and now Remus had no idea what to say. Fortunately, the Winthrops were more than happy to fill in the blanks.

"I'm Sara," said Mrs. Winthrop, shaking Remus' father's hand firmly. "This is my husband Stefan, but you already knew that."

"Lyall," said Remus' father. "This is my son Remus."

They looked at Remus, and perhaps it was Remus' imagination, but he thought he saw their smiles falter a bit. "Hello, Remus," said Sara, and the beaming smile was back. She held out her hand.

It took Remus a moment to realize that she wanted him to shake it. He did so a bit reluctantly, and he regretted his sweaty palms. "It's nice to meet you, Mrs. Winthrop."

"Oh, please call me Sara." With that, she broke away and turned back to Remus' father. "Mallory is excited to meet you all," she said. "She's going to be very embarrassed about stepping into that puddle, by the way. Bad luck, you know. It's part of the curse."

"She may accidentally smash half of your belongings before we leave," warned Stefan.

Remus father laughed, but his laugh faded as Stefan' expression did not change. "I'm not joking, unfortunately," Stefan said. "If you have anything fragile, I'd recommend you put it away."

"Ah. I see."

Mallory came back into the room then, accompanied by Remus' mother. "We're ready now," said Remus' mother with a smile. "Don't worry; I've showed Mallory where everything is."

"Yeah, it seems like a nice house," she mumbled, her voice was so quiet that Remus wondered if the people without enhanced hearing could catch her words.

Apparently so. "I should hope so," said Remus' mother. "The Ministry of Magic gave it to us themselves."

"What?" exclaimed Sara. "Why?"

"We'll tell you over breakfast."

And so the awkwardness (somewhat) evaporated, and the Winthrops and the Lupins sat together in the dining room and happily traded stories for two and a half hours (except for Remus and Mallory, who had hardly yet spoken). Remus' parents told the Winthrops about their house being the old home of Salazar Slytherin and thus being obtained by the British Museum of Magic—and then, once that story was over, they told the Winthrops about Questus.

"He was Remus' Defense Against the Dark Arts professor in first year," said Remus' father. "He and Remus got on quite well, surprisingly, seeing as Remus was shy and hesitant and Questus was… well, the exact opposite, we'll say. He had absolutely no filter."

"Then he moved next to us," said Remus' mother. "He was excellent company for quite some time, and he helped us during a few tough times that summer and beyond—"

"Like what?" asked Sara.

"Oh, like when we were having reservations about sending Remus back to Hogwarts. John snapped us right out of that. And then, when Remus' friends found out about his lycanthropy, John convinced him to stay at school and remain their friend instead of running off."

Remus hadn't been expecting to be shoved into the conversation so forcefully, especially not in immediate reference to his lycanthropy. He looked up from his eggs at Mallory, who was staring at him with wide eyes. "Your friends know about you?" she asked. "Professor Dumbledore told me that no one did, besides the Hogwarts staff."

"Yeah, they found out in my second year," said Remus. "It's been… well, it's been nice, actually. They're not so strange about it as I thought they would be, and I do like not having to hide anymore."

Remus had been wondering when this was going to come up—the dreaded topic of his lycanthropy. He didn't mind talking about it so much as he had before Hogwarts, but it was still unbelievably awkward. Remus felt an irrational, inordinate amount of shame whenever he discussed it. He felt like a burden; a monster; a thing to be pitied, instead of a person on equal footing with the rest of them. He felt like he was complaining, even though, logically, he knew that they were the ones who had asked him to speak about it in the first place.

"If you don't mind telling us more about that, Remus," said Stefan quietly. "Your lycanthropy, I mean. Our family knows quite a bit about curses, but I'm afraid we don't know much about this one. I want you have privacy, of course, and I understand if it's hard to talk about… but if we're to live with you for a bit, I would like to know what to do and what to avoid, if it suits you."

Remus could feel his face turning a bit red. What was wrong with him? Why was he so nervous? He had talked to people about his lycanthropy before! He'd had this conversation with nearly all of his professors! They all liked him relatively well, so…

Ah, Remus thought, rubbing his face as if to get rid of the heat, Manard.

That was why he was so nervous. He'd been accepted, for the most part, into Hogwarts. People had liked him and treated him (mostly) fairly. Then there was Manard, who genuinely scared him—who had reminded him that not everybody would like him, that some people would be downright fearsome—who had shown Remus what it was like not only to be hated, but to be inescapably mistreated in ways Remus hadn't even imagined.

These people were living with Remus. If they hated him, he wouldn't be able to escape—indeed, it would be just like Manard in that Remus would be stuck here with people who made him feel worse than awful.

He had to respond, though, no matter how terrified he was.

"Thank you, but you needn't do anything," said Remus with a shrug. "I'm good at handling it, and it probably won't affect you much. Erm… yeah. I turn into a wolf on the full moons. It doesn't affect my judgment during the day, nor does it impair my morals. I get very ill around the moon, but I know how to handle that."

"Does it hurt?" asked Sara.

Remus looked at the ceiling. "Yes."

"Oh."

"Your father has asked us to go somewhere else on the day before and the day after the full moon," said Stefan, "which we will do happily. It won't be a problem at all, and we don't want to be in the way."

"Okay. Thanks."

"So, the Lupins have been talking about ourselves for quite a bit now," said Remus' father to the Winthrops cheerily, probably in an attempt to change the topic and thereby assuage Remus' discomfort. "Why don't you tell us a bit about yourselves? I'd love to know more!"

"Gladly!" said Stefan. "I went to Hogwarts and studied primarily Runes and Defense Against the Dark Arts. I was interested in curse-breaking, mostly. Right after Hogwarts, I landed a job in Egypt researching ancient Egyptian curses. I was seventeen. That was where I met Sara."

Sara smiled. "We got a bit too excited, I'm afraid, and had Mallory ten months later. I was nineteen, and he was eighteen. I do wish we had waited a bit, looking back, but I wouldn't give up Mallory for the world, just as she is now."

Stefan smiled at Mallory and whispered, "Except for the curse." Mallory's lips twitched, and Sara laughed and said, "Yes, of course. Except for that."

"About the curse," said Stefan, "do you want to tell them a little bit about it, Mal?"

There was a long pause, and then Mallory sighed. "Sure. Erm… mostly it just makes me clumsy. Sometimes I say all the wrong things, I'll never win any sort of raffle or lottery, the things I don't revise are always on tests—and if I don't know an answer and guess, I'm bound to get it wrong. I sleep in on all the worst days, and I can't win games unless they rely on skill one-hundred-percent. And… yeah, that's basically it. Luck just isn't on my side is all."

Luck wasn't on Remus' side, either, but he didn't feel the need to say that out loud.

"Anyway," said Stefan, "on to more cheerful things. Tell us about Hogwarts, Remus. Mal's very excited to go."

"Er… yeah. It's excellent. The professors are all very kind, and the dormitories are nice… I mean, mine is. I don't know about the girls' dormitories."

"All right."

Remus had tried his best, but the mood was spoiled after the conversations about curses, and he wasn't sure what else to say. They chewed in silence for an uncomfortably long time before Remus' father finally asked Stefan about his research and got a very long-winded, rambling answer in response. That segment of the conversation persisted until Mallory and Remus had long finished eating, at which time they looked at each other awkwardly and tried to find the best time to excuse themselves.

"Oh!" said Stefan. "Look at the time. I didn't realize I'd been talking for so long."

"That's all right!" said Remus' father, who Remus could tell was not lying at all. "Curse studies fascinate me. As I'm sure you can guess, I've done quite a bit of research on curses, especially how to break them." He glanced at Remus. "Erm… unsuccessfully, of course."

Stefan made a face that was somewhere between a frown and a smile; it was clear that he wasn't quite sure which one to choose. "May I ask what you've tried in the past?"

"Oh, everything. I have the list if you'd like to see it."

Remus stood up quickly, the legs of the chair scraping slightly on the floor as he did. "I'm going to my room," he said. "Is that okay?"

"Oh," said Stefan. "If you don't want to discuss it, Remus, we can talk about something else…."

"No, I don't mind if Dad tells you. I'm just a bit tired is all."

Remus' mother placed her hand on Remus' right shoulder, and he looked at her. She smiled. "It's all right, Remus. Go to bed. Do you feel awake enough to show Mallory her room and help her unpack?"

"Sure. Yeah. That's fine."

"Wonderful. And you're sure you're all right with Dad sharing this, or do you want to wait until tomorrow morning?"

"It's fine. Please do. It's a shared interest, and you're allowed to talk about it."

"If you're certain," said Remus' father. "Good night, you two. Sleep well."

Remus started up the stairs, and Mallory followed him. He regretted, now, that he'd let the Winthrops visit… but somewhere deep down, he knew he was helping them more than they were hurting him. Remus was doing a good thing, and that was all that was important.

"Here's my room," said Remus, showing Mallory around. He'd cleaned it already, so he had no qualms about giving her the tour. She seemed shier than he was, which somehow bolstered his confidence immeasurably.

"You like runes?" she asked, pointing to a book on his shelf.

"Oh! Yes, I do. I'm on my second year of taking Ancient Runes at Hogwarts, and I think they're fascinating. It's very comforting to memorize vocabulary every so often. Do you like them?"

"Yes, a lot. My dad's a curse-breaker, so I kind of have to like them." She grinned, shyness finally decreasing a bit. "I've actually already written to Professor Finn about doing some research next year. He seems nice."

"He's very nice. He helps catch me up after I miss class."

"Do you… do you miss class a lot?"

"About three days a month."

"Oh."

"Here, let me show you to your room."

Remus inwardly cursed himself for being so awkward. It was fine when he was awkward about Hogwarts, about his house, about his family… but when he was awkward about his condition, people thought he didn't want to talk about it. When they thought he didn't want to talk about it, they concluded that it was a sensitive subject. When people thought it was a sensitive subject, they stepped around it. When they stepped around it, then that just made everybody more uncomfortable.

Remus didn't want people to think that he was awkward, weak, or sensitive. He wanted them to feel free to discuss his lycanthropy openly. He wanted them to be able to ask questions.

…But at the same time, he sort of didn't want to answer them, because he was afraid of being awkward. It was stupid and circular.

He really didn't understand why he felt this way, especially after four years of openly discussing (and enjoying discussing) his lycanthropy with his friends, professors, or John Questus. The fact remained, though, that he did, and he desperately wanted to fix it.

"I don't mind talking about it, you know," said Remus. "I just don't want it to be my whole personality is all."

"Oh, I get it," said Mallory with a laugh. "Dad has his curse-breaking friends over for supper all the time, and even though I don't mind talking about it, I know they only see me for the curse. It's not the same with people who don't know you, is it?"

"Not quite," said Remus, nearly breathing a sigh of relief. Thank goodness she understood! He opened the door to the guest bedroom and gestured to it. "So… this is it. Wardrobe, bed, and window."

"This is a nice room."

"Provided by the Ministry itself."

"No, I mean… this is nicer than your room. Why didn't you choose this one when you moved in?"

"Erm…" Remus stared at the room for a moment before responding. Don't be awkward, he chided himself. "Well, it's the window, actually. I don't really like sleeping next to windows."

"Ah." Fortunately, Mallory seemed to take the excuse without putting two and two together. "May I ask you something?"

"Of course."

"I know you're tired, but do you want to talk for a bit? You know… away from the parents. I feel like they're sort of pushing things, don't you? And all they ever want to talk about are curses."

Remus grinned. "Sure," he said, and he sat on the floor and shut the door. "I wasn't actually tired, you know. I just wanted to get away from them."

"So did I! But I wasn't brave enough to say anything. So… tell me about yourself and how things work around here. Not just regarding the curse, but feel free to add it in if it makes sense. Actually… wait, can you start by telling me what it's like living with a Muggle? I don't think I've ever even talked to a Muggle before!"

This was perfect. Mallory was so much less shy when it was just the two of them, and fortunately, so was Remus. "Mum is pretty amazing," said Remus. "You'd be amazed at what Muggles can accomplish without magic. There are so many inventions and so much history… wizard technology stays static, for the most part, but Muggle technology has grown so much in the past few decades that you can scarcely believe it."

"Wow," said Mallory, eyes wide, and Remus quickly ran through the various Muggle appliances they had in their house. That turned into a conversation about the many places Remus and Mallory had lived in the past, which turned into a discussion about the differences between all the schools Mallory had been to, which morphed into a description of Remus' and Mallory's best friends, which finally gave way to more discussion about curses and medical history.

Remus talked more than he listened, but Mallory didn't seem to mind—after all, it was undeniable that Remus' condition was far more painful and debilitating than Mallory's was. That was just fact. "I didn't even think about werewolves much before this," said Mallory. "I sort of just accepted without question that they were dangerous."

"Well, they are."

"Yeah, but… I didn't really think about them in human form."

"That's fine. I didn't expect you to."

"Hm." Mallory looked at the ceiling and sighed. "Curses are dumb," she said.

Remus looked at the ceiling, too, even though there was nothing up there. "Agreed," he said.

AN: If you haven't noticed, I've switched over to sporadic once-a-weekish chapters. I think I'll post next Sunday/Monday (depending on your time zone), and then I'll be back to Wednesday and Sunday evening EST, or maybe I'll switch over to early Thursday and Monday morning EST. Getting less busy as time goes on, and looking forward to when consistent twice-a-week posting works with my schedule once more!