10th January 1973

The three of them—James, Sirius, and Peter—were huddled in the far corner of the Gryffindor common room, long after most students had gone to bed. Remus had turned in early, claiming he wasn't feeling well again. The fire had burned down to embers, casting a soft glow against the red and gold tapestries. This was their usual time, when the castle was quiet, and they could scheme, joke, and talk freely without interruptions.

James had just been about to launch into a particularly clever plan involving Filch's mop and an irreversible sticking charm when Peter, who had been fidgeting with the hem of his robes for what felt like hours, suddenly blurted out, "I know what Remus is."

James froze mid-sentence. Sirius, who had been lazily flipping a chocolate frog card between his fingers, stilled instantly. The words hung in the air, thick and unshakable.

Peter's face was pale, his hands clenched into fists on his lap. His jaw tightened like he'd been holding something in for too long. "I've known for weeks," he admitted, his voice strained. "I didn't want to believe it at first, but the signs were all there. I tried to ignore it, I really did."

The words landed like a stunning spell. The laughter died instantly, the warmth in the room vanishing as all three boys froze. Sirius, who had been mid-gesture, his hands animated as he recounted his latest idea, let them drop to his sides. James' stomach flipped.

"What did you just say?" Sirius asked, his voice lower than usual.

Peter hesitated, looking between them, but there was no backing out now. "I think that Remus is a werewolf."

James' brain seemed to stall. He stared at Peter, unblinking, as if he had misheard him. Beside him, Sirius let out a short, humourless laugh.

"That's a joke, right?" Sirius said, though his voice lacked any real amusement.

Peter shook his head. "It's not. I've been watching, checking the dates, and keeping track. It all lines up."

James' stomach twisted. "Peter, that's—That's—" He struggled to find the words. "That can't be right. Remus—he—"

"He disappears every full moon," Peter interrupted. "Comes back covered in new cuts and bruises, looking like he's barely slept. And Madam Pomfrey—she sneaks him out to the Whomping Willow."

Sirius scoffed, but there was something uneasy in his expression. "That's just a stupid tree."

Peter exhaled sharply. "No, it's not. There's a tunnel under it. I saw them go in. I found my lunar chart, James, and I checked—every single time Remus has vanished, it's been a full moon."

James felt like the floor had dropped out from under him. He turned to Sirius, who, for once, had nothing to say. His usual smirk was gone, replaced by something James had never seen before—uncertainty.

"Merlin," James muttered, running both hands through his hair. "How did we never—how did we not realize?"

Sirius let out a breath, shaking his head. "Because he's Remus. Because we never thought—" He stopped himself, swallowing hard.

James looked back at Peter. "And you're sure? No doubt?"

Peter hesitated for a fraction of a second before nodding. "I'm sure. It all lines up."

James felt something sharp twist in his chest. He glanced at Sirius, whose expression had gone cold and unreadable. James thought of Remus—their Remus—who always had a tired smile, who never let anyone see how much he hurt, who always pushed through like nothing was wrong.

James had never been so quiet for so long. The Gryffindor common room was nearly silent, the only sounds the distant crackling of the dying fire and the occasional creak of the castle settling. Peter had laid it all out like a puzzle they had somehow never pieced together before.

Remus was a werewolf.

James exhaled slowly, his mind spinning, searching for something—anything—that would disprove it. But there was nothing. Everything Peter had said made sense. Every full moon, Remus disappeared. Every full moon, he came back looking half-dead. Every full moon.

James turned to Sirius, who was slumped back against the couch, staring at the ceiling, arms crossed tightly over his chest. He looked like someone had just hit him with a stunning spell.

"You alright?" James asked, his voice hoarse.

Sirius let out a hollow laugh, running a hand through his hair. "No, actually. I'm not. You?"

James shook his head. "Not even close."

Peter cleared his throat. "So... what do we do?"

James let the question hang in the air for a moment before answering. "We don't do anything yet. Not until we've thought this through."

Sirius scoffed. "Thought what through? Whether we're still his mates?" He sat up suddenly, his eyes flashing. "Because if either of you are even considering—"

"No one's considering that," James interrupted, his voice firm. "Of course we're still his mates. Don't be stupid."

Sirius relaxed slightly, but his jaw was still tense. James couldn't blame him. This wasn't just some schoolyard prank or a secret Filch had been keeping. This was huge.

Peter shifted uncomfortably. "But... what if he's dangerous?"

James inhaled sharply, but Sirius was the first to react. "What if you're dangerous?" he snapped, glaring at Peter. "Should we lock you up during every full moon just in case?"

Peter shrank back. "I didn't mean—"

"Yeah, you did." Sirius' tone was colder than James had ever heard it. "And if you'd actually thought about it, you'd realize that if Remus was dangerous to us, we'd know by now. He's had plenty of chances to hurt us, and he never has."

James nodded. "Exactly. He's our friend. That hasn't changed. And it's not going to."

Peter hesitated before nodding. "Okay. So... what do we do?"

James looked over at Sirius. Their eyes met, and in that moment, James knew they were thinking the same thing.

"We help him," Sirius said simply.

James smiled, small but certain. "Yeah. We help him."

…

James had never been one to feel nervous. Not when sneaking into Filch's office, not when pulling off a prank in front of the entire school, not even when facing down a furious McGonagall. But now, standing at the foot of his bed, nerves twisted in his stomach in a way he wasn't used to.

Tonight, they were going to confront Remus.

Sirius sat on the edge of his bed, bouncing his knee impatiently, while Peter hovered near the window, chewing on his thumbnail. The plan was simple: wait until Remus came back from the Library and talk to him. No more guessing. No more secrets.

The door creaked open, and Remus stepped in. He froze when he saw them all, waiting. James watched the flicker of alarm flash across his face before Remus forced his features into something neutral.

"Alright," Remus said slowly, closing the door behind him. "What's going on?"

James exchanged a glance with Sirius. Then he took a breath. "We know."

Remus stiffened. "Know what?"

Sirius sighed, rubbing his temples. "Don't make us say it, Rem."

Remus didn't move. For a second, James thought he might deny it, brush it off, and try to laugh it off like he always did. But then his shoulders slumped, and he looked down at the floor.

"How long?" Remus asked quietly.

Peter swallowed, shifting from foot to foot. "A while. I—I figured it out first."

Remus' fingers curled into fists. "And now what? Are you going to tell Dumbledore? Demand I get kicked out?"

James felt a flash of anger at the sheer fear in his voice. "Are you mad? Why would we do that?"

Remus looked up, eyes wary. "Because I'm a werewolf, James. I could—I could've—"

"But you didn't." Sirius' voice was steady, firm. "Not once. Not ever."

Remus shook his head, taking a step back like he could somehow escape this. "You don't understand. I'm dangerous. I can't control it. I shouldn't be here."

"Then why did Dumbledore let you in?" James countered. "He's not stupid. He knew what you were. And he trusted you."

"That doesn't mean you should!" Remus snapped, his voice cracking. "You don't know what I'm like, what I become!"

Sirius stood, crossing the room in two long strides. "Then show us."

Remus' breath caught. "What?"

Sirius met his eyes, unwavering. "You said we don't understand. So help us understand. We're your mates, Remus. Nothing's changing that. But if you think we're walking away from you just because you turn a bit hairy once a month, you really don't know us."

Remus gaped at him, looking half-exasperated, half-incredulous. "Sirius, this isn't a joke."

Sirius smirked. "I mean, it kind of is. You have monthlies, Rem."

James let out a loud groan. "Sirius, please don't call it that."

Peter snorted, clearly trying to hold back a laugh, while Remus just stared at Sirius like he'd grown another head. "You do realize I turn into an actual monster, right? I'm not just getting a bit moody and needing chocolate."

Sirius grinned. "Well, yeah, but it doesn't mean we're going anywhere. We're your mates. Nothing's changing that. If you think we're walking away from you just because you turn a bit hairy once a month, you really don't know us."

The silence stretched between them. James could see the war happening behind Remus' eyes—hope battling with the deep, ingrained fear he had lived with for years.

"You should hate me," Remus whispered.

James rolled his eyes. "Oh, shut up."

Remus blinked, caught off guard, and Sirius let out a bark of laughter.

"What James means," Sirius said, smirking, "is that you're being an idiot. We don't hate you. We can't hate you. You're our best mate."

Peter stepped forward, his expression unusually serious. "Look, you don't have to go through this alone anymore. You shouldn't have to."

Remus exhaled shakily and ran a hand through his hair. "You can't help. No one can. This isn't some school problem you can solve with a charm. It's—" He swallowed. "It's forever."

"Good," James said, grinning. "Because we don't plan on going anywhere within that time frame."

Remus let out a breath that sounded suspiciously close to a laugh. "You lot are ridiculous."

Sirius grinned. "Yeah, well, you're stuck with us now."

James clapped a hand on Remus' shoulder. "Seriously, mate. We're in this with you. Whatever it takes."

Remus hesitated, looking between them like he wanted to believe them but didn't quite know how.

"Alright," he finally said, voice thick. "Alright."

James exchanged a glance with Sirius, but his eyes lingered on Peter for a second longer. Peter had been the first to know, had carried this secret for longer than any of them, and yet he had never abandoned Remus. If anything, he had protected him in his own way.

James felt something shift in their group—not a crack, not a divide, but something stronger. They weren't just friends anymore. They were something unshakable. A family.