The letter came two days before Remus was to return to school—well, not the letter, but a letter.

Moony,

Don't tell anyone I told you this (obviously), but I overheard Dad talking. The Werewolf Registry's scheduled for 24 January. They'll send out the letters on the 20th. Figured you'd like to know.

—Padfoot

Remus stared at the note, more than a little upset. First of all, how had Sirius overheard his father? Wasn't he at James'? Secondly… the twenty-fourth was only three days before the January full moon. Remus wouldn't be bedridden yet, but his emotions would be running high, and his temper would be a tad more difficult to control. Not much, but enough that it felt like it was on purpose. The Ministry usually scheduled Registries for terrible times, yes, but they had never been so reckless as to put the date three days before the full moon.

Remus dashed to his closet and pulled out the enchanted mirror. "Prongs," he shouted into it. "Prongs. Prongs. Pr—"

Sirius' grey eye appeared. "Keep it down, will you?" he hissed. "I have the mirror. I'm at Grimmauld."

"Why are you there? Weren't you supposed to spend holidays with Prongs?"

"Yeah, but there was a problem."

"A… problem?"

Sirius sighed. "See, I have a great-great-grandfather—who really isn't all that great. He lives pretty far away, so I really only ever meet him on holidays (the ones I don't spend with Prongs, that is). Anyway… he's croaked. Snuffed it. Died."

Remus squinted, not entirely sure what to say. "I'm so sorry."

"It's okay. Didn't like him anyway."

"Yes, but he was still family, wasn't he?"

"Ah, come off it. You don't love all your family, do you? If your grandfather—the one who disowned you—if he died, then would you really feel all that upset?"

Remus thought about that. Yes, he would. He wouldn't be absolutely devastated, no, but he would still feel a bit upset. The man hadn't been kind to Remus and his family, but Remus still felt a sort of connection to him—and besides, he'd raised Remus' father. He'd done something correctly.

Then again, Remus didn't have to meet up with his ex-grandfather every holiday and let himself be insulted. Maybe that was the difference.

"Well, I'm sorry it happened anyway," said Remus, "because now you're back home instead of with Prongs. That's kind of terrible, isn't it?"

Sirius snorted a bit, and then he sighed. "Yeah," he said. "It's pretty awful. There's going to be a funeral in a few days, and my whole family will be there. The whole family. It's going to be awful."

"And there's no way you can get out of it?"

"I could get bitten by a werewolf, I suppose. Mum and Dad won't have me around then."

"Right, well, you're a little late for that. Missed the deadline by a couple of days."

"Damn," Sirius said. "You know, Moony, this is really helpful. Thank you for talking to me."

"My pleasure. Anything in particular you want to talk about? Family? Favorite foods? School?"

Sirius groaned. "Anything but school."

"But I made Astronomy flashcards the other day."

"No!"

"For someone whose name is a constellation, you're really no fun when it comes to Astronomy."

"Because Astronomy isn't fun." Sirius sighed and moved the mirror to a new angle. Remus could see now that he was lying in bed (still in his pajamas), which was a tad odd, because it was two pm.

"You haven't gotten dressed yet?" asked Remus.

"I'm feigning ill. I've seen you ill plenty of times, so I'd like to think I'm rather good at it."

"If you wanted to get out of the funeral, you should have waited a day or two. If you're lying in bed today, your parents will think you're over the worst of it by the funeral and make you go."

"Too suspicious otherwise. They'd never believe me. This way, I still have to go to the funeral, but at least I get out of a few family suppers. Mum and Dad can't afford getting sick right now, and Regulus is a bit of a germaphobe."

"Madam Pomfrey's sister is a hypochondriac." Remus knew it was off-topic, but he felt like he needed to keep the conversation moving.

"Really? How odd," said Sirius, who seemed to appreciate the topic shift.

"It is, isn't it? I've met her. She's nice."

"Huh. Who would've guessed. How's Mallory?"

"Same as ever, I suppose. The Winthrops have been avoiding me since they came back."

"Pity?"

"Probably, or maybe the fear of showing it. I don't really mind much. I like Mallory, but I've spent quite a bit of time with her already."

"Fair enough. Oh, Moony! I haven't yet told you about the brilliant thing I did to Regulus yesterday. Here's a hint: it involved toothpaste, a cockroach, and paprika…."

Remus sat back and listened to Sirius describe his many escapades. It was good to stop thinking every once in a while.

It wasn't long until Christmas holidays were over and Remus and Mallory were to return to school. Remus hadn't even started down the stairs, school trunk dragging along behind him, when he heard his mother say, "Remus, stop."

Remus stopped. "What is it?"

"I don't want you carrying that trunk. You hurt your shoulder in December."

Remus could have rolled his eyes. His family had struggled with talking about his lycanthropy for years (before Questus has knocked some sense into them), and Remus recognized all the old euphemisms. "In December?" he muttered, knowing that, before the Winthrops had dragged them back into euphemism territory, Remus' mother would simply have said on the full moon.

Remus desperately wanted to drag the trunk himself, just to show his mother that he wasn't totally helpless, but he didn't want to leave home in bad spirits. He sighed, set his trunk at the top of the stairs, and walked down the stairs. And there were no problems with that, thank you very much: Remus was fine!

The problem came about ten minutes later, when he was in the kitchen, pouring himself some tea while he waited for Mallory (she was sleeping in. Remus, who was anticipating his return to school, had been unable to sleep in). He picked up the kettle, poured the tea into a mug, and then set it back down—

All at once, pain exploded across his right wrist, and he yelped at the unexpected sensation.

"What's wrong?" asked his mother. "Did you burn yourself?"

Remus grasped his wrist with his left hand. "I think I broke my wrist," he said.

"What?!" She took Remus' arm and inspected his wrist, frowning deeply. "Are you certain, dear?"

"I've broken enough bones that I think I know what it feels like, thanks," Remus snapped, and then he immediately felt guilty. "Sorry. I'm just a bit surprised."

"It's all right… er, so am I."

Remus wiggled his fingers. "When Dad wakes up, he should be able to heal it very easily. It doesn't feel too bad."

"I'm not letting you wait for your father to wake up. Your wrist is broken. I'm waking him up."

Remus' mother went upstairs to fetch him, and Remus didn't try to stop her. He sat down at the kitchen table, sipping his tea with his left hand, trying not to be concerned.

And honestly? It wasn't that hard. Remus wasn't all that concerned—after all, so much had been happening to him lately that he wasn't even surprised. Why wouldn't his bones break randomly? Greyback was hunting him down, Manard was torturing him, his friends were nearly killing themselves with an advanced transformation, new people were living at Remus' house, and on top of all that, he'd been a werewolf for nearly ten years. Of course his wrist was broken. Of course his body would start falling apart for no reason. It almost made sense.

His parents came back down, and Remus' father wasted no time in healing Remus' wrist. "What were you doing?" he asked.

"Pouring tea."

"Hm. That's weird."

"I know."

"Do you think it'll happen again anytime soon?"

"Unfortunately, I'm not taking Divination, so I can't provide you with that information." Remus shrugged. "I feel fine. Thanks for healing me."

Remus' father frowned again. "Okay. You're welcome."

Remus showed Mallory to the Marauders' normal spot on the train—he was certain that his friends wouldn't mind if she sat there. Remus hoped that she would have new friends by the end of the year, because he didn't think her personality would mesh particularly well with the Marauders', and Remus wasn't willing to give up his previous friendships to make sure Mallory was never alone. Call him selfish, but he was terrified to lose his friends—he would do a lot for Mallory, but he would not risk losing them, not even a little bit. Mallory was wonderful, but she could not compare with the Marauders.

No one had arrived yet, so Mallory and Remus sat across from each other, each by the window. Remus gingerly set Bufo upon his lap and stroked him while he croaked angrily. Bufo did not like the train, apparently.

"How long is the train ride?" Mallory asked.

"About eight hours, give or take."

"Wow. Why don't students just Floo to Hogwarts en masse?"

"No idea. Hogwarts is pretty traditional, though, so newer technology like Floo Powder isn't commonly used."

"I see."

Suddenly (well, Remus had heard them coming, but he supposed it was still rather sudden), all three of Remus' friends came clattering into the compartment, laughing and shrieking. "Ooh!" said James. "This is Mallory, then?"

"Sure is," said Remus.

"I've heard so much about you," said James with a grin. "Well, technically I've seen you, too, but not in person."

"Will you be riding with us?" asked Sirius.

Remus looked at Mallory, but she didn't answer. There was an uncomfortable silence.

"Yeah," said Remus.

"Excellent!" James plopped directly next to her and shut the door behind them. "You know that Moony's a werewolf, so we can talk about things. It's really just annoying when we have to keep watching what we say."

"Imagine how I felt in first year," Remus grumbled.

"Oh," said James, smile spreading across his face, "we already know."

"Why are you making that face?"

"Because the rest of us have been perfecting our Remus impressions. Ready, lads?"

Remus watched, unimpressed, as his friends broke into a chorus of "woe is me!" and "I can't sleep next to a window but I don't want to switch beds with someone for whatever reason" and "people like me shouldn't have friends" and "I don't want to recover alone but I'll tell everyone the opposite".

"You're exaggerating," he said, rolling his eyes.

There was a brief pause, and then Mallory said the first two words she had spoken since the other Marauders had entered the compartment: "Not really."

Peter, James, and Sirius immediately started whooping loudly. "I like her!" said James.

"You're a traitor," Remus informed Mallory.

Apparently, she still wasn't comfortable with being teased (even though she clearly had no qualms about teasing), because her face went bright red and she said, "I didn't mean… I mean, I don't know about any of that other stuff; it was only that he made a really similar facial expression to the ones you usually make, and the tone was really similar, and…"

"It's fine," said Remus. "I'm joking. I'm not really bothered."

Fortunately, the train began to move, and all thoughts of Remus' facial expressions and tones of voice were quickly forgotten as his friends began to chat about what they wanted to do to Snape upon their arrival at school.

That conversation turned to frogs, which turned to the best kind of ink, which turned to Sprout's hairdo. "It's just so poofy now," said James. "I don't remember it being so poofy in first year. She's only just poofed it up, hasn't she?"

"Not on purpose," said Remus. "It smells like she's stopped using gel in it. I think it's standing up on its own." Pause. "How was the funeral, Sirius?"

Sirius frowned. "Wow. Way to transition, Moony."

"I've been trying to ask for the past two hours. There was no good time."

"All right. Well, it sucked. Is that what you want to hear?"

"I just got the feeling you wanted to chat about it."

"I don't."

"Okay."

The Marauders sat in silence.

5… 4… 3… 2…

"It's a very sobering thing to watch, a Black funeral," said Sirius. "Not because I liked the bloke. Hated him, and I'd never even met him. I felt nothing toward him during the funeral—nothing whatsoever."

"Understandable," said James, and he and Remus exchanged glances. Sirius always wanted to talk about things, even when he said he didn't, and they both knew it. Remus was honestly impressed he had lasted a full five seconds.

"But it was still sad—sad for me; not for him," Sirius continued. "They tell you that friendships are temporary, but family is forever. They say that your real relationships—the ones that will never leave you—are the ones with your parents and siblings."

"Who says that?" asked Peter.

"Everybody. People say it at school, and in books, and… well, just everybody."

"Okay."

"The thing is, though, I don't want my 'family relationships' or whatever to be eternal. I hate the idea that I'm going to die like my great-grandfather one day. I'll be far away from my family, I won't even have ever met my indirect descendants… and then, when I die, I'll likely just be dragged back here for a funeral. I'll be known for nothing else. I have a prewritten legacy."

James frowned. "Okay, so first of all, we're not going to let that happen."

"You can't do anything about it."

"Sure we can. There are plenty of opportunities to leave. Just marry into a different family—do something your family will never approve of—live somewhere different and build new relationships. Trust me, if you have strong enough relationships by the time you die, no one is going to let your family rewrite history and turn you into the person they wanted you to be."

"I just want out," said Sirius. "I've tried to do things they don't approve of, and at least they've stopped dragging me home every holiday. But, even though I have next to no contact with them nowadays, I'm still part of the family. I'm still there merely to preserve their image. They don't care about me, but I'm still stuck to them somehow! I just want out!"

"Wait till you're seventeen, and then no one can stop you from moving out forever. Only a few more years."

"I suppose," said Sirius dully. "Only a few more. November of seventh year, and I'm done."

"Technically earlier, depending on how many holidays your parents let you spend with me," said James. "Maybe you'll only have to go back once or twice until then—or maybe even not at all!"

"I suppose you're right."

All of the sudden, the trolley witch knocked on the compartment door. "Anything from the trolley, dears?" she called, and James opened the door with frightening speed.

"I'll take everything," he said.

She wrinkled her nose. "One of everything, or everything?"

"Everything. The whole cart." He thrust a small bag full of coins at her. "That should cover it. Keep the change."

Ten minutes later, the Marauders (and Mallory) were talking happily in the compartment, munching on sweets, and Sirius seemed far more cheerful than he'd been previously. James Potter was good at many things, and it turned out that cheering Sirius up was one of them.

After a very filling supper, Mallory was summoned to Dumbledore' office to receive her schedule, room assignments, and a brief tour. As for the Marauders, they set off for their dormitory, where Remus immediately removed his shoes and crawled into bed. Manard had been staring at Remus from across the Hall during supper, and Remus was starting to wander into the zone in which he was tired of just about everything—his friends included.

"Moony," said James, "it's only eight o'clock. Please don't tell me you're going to sleep already."

"I'm tired."

"Who cares? We have important things to discuss!"

"Like what?"

"Like the Animagus things!"

"I've already heard the update. You came to my house and gave it to me right after the full moon, remember?"

"Yeah, but don't you want to hear the details?"

"No," said Remus. "I know the plan. I'm assuming you've carried it out. Isn't that all I need to know?"

James frowned. "I thought you'd be interested."

"Well, I'm not. Good night."

"May we at least show you the map? We've finished the basic outlining, and now we just need some details!"

"Not right now. I'm tired."

Remus rolled over and closed his eyes.

Suddenly, he heard the patter of familiar footsteps, the scent of James was growing stronger, and then something jumped onto his bed. Remus yelped. "James! Go away! I'm trying to sleep!"

"Oh, no, you're not. You're going to watch us work on the map and maybe even make some suggestions. You're going to hear about how we hid the Mandrake leaves in crystal phials, start to finish. You still need to help us with the dew, remember? You're going to participate, and you're going to like it. Understood?"

Remus let James practically drag him out of bed. "Understood," he said, sitting on the ground with his legs folded, no longer sleepy one bit.

And, looking at the work his friends had put into the map, Remus started feeling some excitement flood back into his chest. Hearing about James trying to fly into the shed without letting his feet touch the ground, he felt some spark of something in his mind. Listening to Peter chatter excitedly about spending time at James' house, Remus felt a little bit better. Happier. More alive.

Remus thought back to the Manard-Boggart in the cellar. He thought back to his conversation with his father in the garden.

He'd already resolved not to let Manard hurt him, and now he only had to put it into practice.