"I had no idea you were such a performer!" said Sirius with a hearty laugh, practically pulling Remus outdoors after classes to watch them ride broomsticks. "That was brilliant!"

"It was brilliant!" Peter echoed. "Excellent! So good!"

James, however, was frowning slightly. "I can't believe you were the one who got the werewolf prompt," he said. "And it was so similar to how you actually bitten, wasn't it? The prompt said that the werewolf came in someone's room to attack them? Through the window?"

Remus sighed. "Yes, Prongs. He assigned them randomly, and he had no idea that was how it had happened in my case. I'm sure he would have written me a new prompt if I'd told him I was uncomfortable by it."

"But it was so similar to how it happened with you! Isn't that odd?"

"No. Tons of people received a bite because the werewolf came through their windows."

James frowned. "Still, it seems a bit sleazy that he put that scenario in with all the rest. He knew, at the very least, that you'd have to watch someone else do it."

"So you want him to avoid werewolves for the entire year, even though it's his specialty, just to avoid potentially hurting my feelings?" Remus rolled his eyes and pried his wrist out of Sirius' grip, who was still yanking him along to the courtyard. "You're being ridiculous, Prongs. You're looking for something that isn't there. Professor Manard doesn't bother me one bit."

James shook his head. "That's not true."

"What do you mean it's not true?!"

"It's just not."

Remus frowned. He was trying, and he was honestly proud of his progress. "He doesn't bother me," he said again.

"You're lying."

"As if you're emotionally intelligent enough to know."

"I am pretty intelligent."

"Not the same thing."

Remus gave James another exasperated look, and then he smiled. "James, you're reading too much into it. I've already told you my other secrets, so why would I hide this one?"

"I guess you wouldn't." James frowned. "You know, talking of secrets, we still have to add that dew to our Mandrake leaves. They're safe near Peter's house, in those little crystal phials, waiting for the next step."

"Good for them."

"Come on, Remus. You know you have to be the one to do the next step."

Fear invaded Remus' chest, mingled in equal parts with pure hope and excitement. "I don't think we should talk about it here," he said.

"No one's around."

"Still."

James sighed, and then he started back toward the castle. "I thought we were going to play Quidditch!" Sirius shouted.

"This is more important."

Ten minutes later (the moving staircases were being particularly annoying that day), Remus found himself in the dormitory with the other Marauders, a firm Soundproofing Charm on the doors. "There," said James. "Now you have no excuse. What's your plan for the dew, and when should we start?"

"Well…" Remus sighed. "I don't think we should store the dew in Peter's shed like we were originally planning."

"Why not?"

"If his parents end up going in there, then the whole plan will be spoiled."

Peter shook his head. "Oh, no, Moony. They never do."

"Yes, but say they do. Say they do and you don't even know. You remove the dew from the area that human feet have touched, and then you add it to the potion and go through with the other Animagus steps, not knowing that you've failed to follow the instructions. And then you die horrible, painful deaths."

Peter swallowed.

"Do you understand how important it is to get this right?" Remus asked, gesticulating wildly. "You cannot make a mess of this! It has to be perfect!"

"Then what do you suggest we do, Professor Moony?" asked Sirius sarcastically.

"I'm… well, I'm not entirely sure."

"I have an idea," said James. "What if we build our own little place to store the phials? Right here in Hogwarts. We'll dig a tunnel and put some Darkness Spells on it."

"That's going to take ages."

"Not with magic. We'll do it after hours in the Forbidden Forest."

Remus let his eyes fall closed. He did not want to go to the Forbidden Forest after hours—he did not want to go there at all. He had once enjoyed the feel of the forest air against his face and the moist soil below his feet, but he did not anymore. Now, with the threat of Voldemort looming above all their heads, and the threat of Fenrir Greyback looming directly in front of Remus' face… he did not want to go somewhere so dangerous. Not at all.

But he also wanted his friends there on full moons.

Now that he had let himself think about it—hope for it—he wanted it more than life itself. He wanted to spend those accursed hours in the Shack, the ones that led up to one of the worst events of his life, with friends. He wanted to transform back with them by his side. He wanted all of these things so much it hurt—a literal, physical burning in his chest—and he did not think he could bear another full moon without it. Manard had isolated Remus so much that now, more than ever, he longed desperately for connection.

"Sure," he said. "Let's start tonight."

His friends whooped, and then they tried to do a four-way high-five that only succeeded in making them laugh. Then they went out to the courtyard, where James and Sirius chased each other about in the sky, and Peter and Remus sat under their usual tree and tried to keep warm in the January chill.

Schedules had shifted slightly after Christmas holidays, and Remus found himself with a brief respite from his friends as they all went to Divination without him. He spent that time in his dormitory, creating simulation after simulation for his Divination project. He only needed a couple more before reaching the promised one hundred.

His notebook was practically filled by now, but the real full moon memories never blended with the false ones being implanted into his brain. It just wasn't the same, somehow, and Remus tended to forget the false memories as soon as he wrote them down. Perhaps it was because he was already used to having more than a hundred full moon memories stored in his mind.

Just as he was about to plunge his face into the Pensieve for the one hundredth and final time, a familiar scent wafted through the air.

Manard.

Why was he here? Remus was safe in his dormitory—his Gryffindor dormitory! He was supposed to be safe here!

Please stay away, Remus internally begged, but his efforts were futile. Manard's footsteps grew louder, his scent grew stronger, and then there was a knock at the door.

Remus froze. He didn't even breathe.

"Remus," said Manard from behind the door, "I know you're in there. Your friends told me that you were. I passed them on their way to Divination."

Remus still didn't move.

"Also, I can see that you've left the lights on."

Remus grimaced, but he still didn't move.

"Are you afraid of me?"

Ah, there was the complicated bit: Remus did not want to talk to Manard, but he did want to prove to himself that he wasn't afraid.

Remus stood up, took a deep breath (he hadn't breathed in a while), and opened the door. "Hello, Professor," he said. "I'm sorry. I was sleeping."

Manard smiled. "Performance yesterday wear you out?"

"Erm. No. I'm sorry about that, by the way."

"No, no. You don't have to be sorry. I must say, I am impressed. It was a decent performance."

Remus had been quite sure that Manard had come to chew him out, and now he wasn't sure what to think. "May I ask why you're here, Professor?"

"You may, but I will not answer—not until we're in my office, at least. Forgive me, but this room smells terrible."

"It's James' fault. He was outdoors yesterday practicing Quidditch, and he sweats a lot."

"I honestly don't care whose fault it is. Follow me, please."

Manard led Remus out of his room and to the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom, and Remus tried not to be afraid. Manard was just a man, after all—nothing more than a man. Remus didn't have to be afraid of the likes of him. He'd been through much, much worse than Salvis Manard. Remus had survived encounters with a creature who was half-man, fully monster—and now he was one himself. Yes, Remus could deal with one normal, boring man.

They entered his office, and Manard closed the door behind them. "What's going on?" Remus asked.

Manard raised his eyebrows. "What's going on…"

Knowing that he wanted Remus to tack a sir on the end, Remus refused to give him the satisfaction. "Yeah, that's what I said."

Manard shook his head but did not persist. "I only wanted to show you today's Prophet."

"I've already read it. I read it every morning."

"If you had read it closely enough, you'd have been here hours ago." Manard pulled a newspaper from the inside of his desk and sat it in front of Remus. "Page three. Read it."

Remus scanned the words, but he didn't see anything of interest. Something about a child prodigy. Something about a flood. Something about some potential Death Eaters being arrested in a town Remus had never heard of.

"I don't see anything of great importance," he said finally.

Manard sighed. "Where were those Death Eaters arrested, Remus?"

"Some town called… Kirkglade."

"And where is Kirkglade, exactly?"

"I've no clue."

Manard pulled a map of the U.K. out of his drawer and pointed. "Do you see anything of interest around this area, Remus?"

Remus looked. He saw a small lake. He saw another town. And… he saw the Dering Woods.

"Oh," he said.

"Indeed. Fenrir Greyback is very close to that town, and potential Death Eaters were arrested there. Don't you think they're planning something there, Remus? Don't you think this is confirmation that he's there, Remus? Don't you think that something is going on?"

"I seem to remember coming across a werewolf in the Black Forest who told me himself that Fenrir Greyback is not looking for me."

"Have you gone mad? Are you completely ignoring all the evidence? Of course he's not going to tell his pack all his plans! He's going to send someone out there to point you in the right direction without telling him all the details! He's playing with you, Remus!"

Remus sighed. "I just think he would have found me sooner if he'd wanted to find me, don't you?"

"How do you explain the letters he's sent you, then?"

"I suppose… I can't. Perhaps he's changed his mind. He hasn't threatened me since."

"Oh, because he's so concerned with what will happen if you don't comply and he has to follow through. You know how much he'd just hate to murder your family. It would ruin his whole evening, wouldn't it?"

Remus couldn't help it. He buried his face in his hands, pressed his fingers into his eyes, and groaned. His fingers felt hot, and he realized too late that a few tears were dripping down them. He groaned. "This is so complicated," he whispered. "I wish he'd just leave me alone. I wish you'd just leave me alone. Being a werewolf is hard enough without all this nonsense."

"Well, there's a foolproof way to make that happen," said Manard. "I'll tell you what. If I can find and catch Greyback before the end of this year, I will leave Hogwarts. I promise you. You will likely never see me again."

"You're going to leave regardless because of the curse," said Remus, face still covered.

"That only means that our chances of catching Greyback are higher, then, because I'm not leaving otherwise." Manard smiled. "I'm going to be honest with you, Remus: half of the reason I agreed to teach at Hogwarts was because you were here."

"Because you hated me and—and wanted to make my life miserable?" Oh, Remus hated crying. The muscles in his abdomen were jumping now with the effort of keeping himself relatively composed, and his words came out in jerks. He was holding back the worst of the tears admirably, but was incredibly embarrassed.

"No, because I knew you would help me. I knew that, if anybody could find Greyback, it would be you. You have the supernatural tracking abilities, the prior knowledge, and the personal attachment. Of course, I didn't expect the fortuity of the hints he's so graciously leaving us, but I did know that you wanted to find him just as much as I do."

"No, I don't. I don't want to find him at all. I have no desire to see that—monster ever again. You want revenge; I only want peace."

"The only way to ensure your peace is to make sure he's securely locked up where no one will ever find him."

"I… I suppose you're right." Remus sniffled, imagining a world in which Fenrir Greyback was gone for good and he did not need to worry any longer. Was that worth spending any more time with Sal Manard? Honestly, Remus wasn't sure.

"I'll give you some time to think about it," said Manard.

"O—okay."

That felt like a dismissal, but Remus didn't move. He kept his fingers on his eyes, head bowed, trying hard to stem the tears. Remus knew that Manard knew he was crying at this point (it was rather obvious), but Remus didn't want him to see.

Wordlessly, Remus heard something rustle a couple of inches away from his face, and his excellent senses of smell and hearing told him what it was without even looking up: a handkerchief. "Thank you," he mumbled, finally taking his fingers away from his eyes and taking the handkerchief instead. "I'm sorry."

"Quite all right. You aren't the first person whom Fenrir Greyback has brought to tears."

"It's not the first time, either," Remus mumbled. "I'm sorry, sir, but… I'm thinking about going to Professor Dumbledore about all this. I don't think I can go to the woods with you again. It's too much."

"I'd reconsider if I were you."

"Why not? Professor Dumbledore is an incredibly distinguished and powerful wizard. If he can't catch Greyback, no one can."

"Then why hasn't he done it yet?"

Remus fell silent, considering. "Maybe he hasn't tried yet."

"Remus, if he hasn't tried yet, then what makes you think you're going to convince him otherwise? If Albus Dumbledore does not want to catch Greyback, he won't. Instead, he'll put you, your family, and your friends into strict hiding."

"So… they'd be safe."

"Yes, and they'd also be totally quarantined for years—maybe forever. No Hogwarts, no new friends, no purpose in life…. Do you really want to give them the same fate that you thought you would have before Dumbledore invited you to Hogwarts, Remus?

Remus sighed. "No. I don't think he would do that, though."

"What's the other option? Will he catch Greyback by himself, once and for all, implying that he could have done so all along—implying that, if only he hadn't been so lazy, he could have prevented you from being bitten all those years ago? Or perhaps he needs your help to catch Greyback, as I do. Will he really take you out into the field, risking your life? You think Dumbledore would really do that?"

Remus trembled. "Maybe not."

"No, he'd much rather let Greyback go free, wouldn't he? If you want a happy ending, Remus, then I'm your only chance." Manard smiled grimly as he handed Remus another handkerchief. "Think about it for me, won't you?"

"Okay," Remus whispered, and then he scurried back to his dormitory. He couldn't finish the final full moon simulation, though—he was far too jumpy to clear his mind properly.

James had been correct: despite his best efforts, Remus was still deeply, deeply afraid of Sal Manard.

That night, Remus and his friends went to the Forbidden Forest to start digging the tunnel. Remus had taken many breaks from sneaking out with his friends after hours due to some horrifying recent incidents—a girl had been turned into a tree, an Arithmancy professor had been brutally killed, and… well… apparently, there was a murderous werewolf looking for Remus.

As soon as he got over the initial fear, though, the absolute thrill of sneaking through the corridors at midnight came back.

Here they were, all squeezed under an Invisibility Cloak (they no longer quite fit, but nobody was around anyway). Remus used his excellent senses to warn them of Filch and Mrs. Norris, and James used his excellent sense of humor to keep things lighthearted. They laughed and joked as they walked down the corridor, Remus shushing them the whole time, Peter giggling like there was no tomorrow, Sirius rolling his eyes at Peter's antics.

This reminded Remus of simpler times.

They finally exited the castle, where they felt fully comfortable removing the Invisibility Cloak and walking freely. The night air was chilly, but Remus was dressed warmly; and besides, the adrenaline was keeping him warm.

It was a long trek to the Forbidden Forest, and Remus was shivering freely when they arrived. As soon as they took two steps into its darkness, he froze.

His friends walked about ten feet ahead before they noticed. "Hurry up, Moony," said Sirius.

"I… I can't." Remus' voice was hardly more than a whisper, and his heart was racing so quickly he felt nauseous. "I need to go back."

"What's wrong?"

Remus squeezed his eyes shut tightly, and images of Fenrir Greyback glued themselves to the backs of his eyelids. There he was, behind Remus, his dirty fingernails scraping his shoulders… there he was, next to Remus, his hot breath on his neck… there he was, in front of Remus, wand still in his pocket because Fenrir Greyback had never fought Remus with a wand before; he hadn't needed to… his claws, teeth, smell, and unsettling eyes were everywhere. Remus could not move.

Somehow, he was four years old again, and a werewolf was lurking outside his window. Somehow, he was five again, waiting for his first full moon. Somehow, he was in the Shrieking Shack, in Manard's office, and in the Black Forest all at once.

His breath came in gasps, and his vision went fuzzy. He was on the ground now.

What had Questus said?

Remus held his breath, and then he took a few breaths and did it again. He put his head between his knees and counted once he was able, holding his breath and then releasing it in ten-second intervals. After what seemed like ages, his heart stopped racing, and the hyperventilating mostly subsided.

"I'm sorry," he said at last. "Someone help me up?"

Peter warily stretched out a hand, and pulled Remus to his feet. "Are you all right?"

"Yes. Let's dig that tunnel, shall we?"

"You can't just… you can't just do that and then pretend like nothing happened!" said James. "We thought you were dying!"

"I'm not. That just happens sometimes. I panic about something and I forget how to breathe right." Remus shrugged. "It usually only happens before full moons, and it started happening a lot less once I knew why it was happening… but here it is again. Sorry."

"What were you panicking about?" asked Sirius.

Remus most certainly could not tell them that he'd been associating forests with Greyback and Manard, so he merely shrugged. "I thought I saw something move in the background, and then I started thinking about werewolves," he said. "That's all. Childhood trauma and all that. No big deal."

James nodded slowly. "Fine, then," he said. "Let's dig that tunnel."

Despite his previous nonchalance, though, Remus was still spooked. He jumped at every little forest noise. He was constantly sniffing around for a potential monster in the distance. He nearly fainted when Sirius accidentally touched his arm.

After a while, though—after finally mastering the digging charm that James had looked up in the library—after getting an excellent hole started—after joking and laughing with his friends—the fear started to subside.

With the Marauders by his side, every bad thing seemed almost inconsequential to Remus. He was okay. They were okay. Everything was fine, and everything was a joke in the eyes of his friends.

And soon, they would be able to chase away the darkness on full moon nights as well.

The swell of fear turned into a swell of joy and anticipation, and that night, after Remus and his friends had decided to leave the rest of the tunnel-digging for another day, Remus lay in bed with a smile on his face.

AN: My apologies for the long delay! I've been busy lately (and tackling some mild but annoying health issues) so I'll probably switch to once-a-week now. Stay tuned!