A/N: Thank you all so much for your lovely reviews! Now onto some Remus-y goodness. I hope you love this chapter as much as I do.

Disclaimer: Harry Potter is most certainly owned by Jo Rowling and not by me.

Chapter 26 - 3.5 or "The House"

In the days leading up to the first Hogsmeade trip of the year, the students could seem to talk of nothing else. The third years, particularly, could be heard at mealtimes or in the corridors swapping tales they had heard of the unending supply of implausible sweets in Honeydukes sweetshop, making plans to purchase a multitude of uproarious products from Zonko's Joke Shop, or else daring each other as to who would be brave enough to get close to the Shrieking Shack, which had, in recent years, become reputed to be one of the most haunted dwellings in Britain. However, for James, Sirius, Peter, and Remus, who had illicitly ventured out to Hogsmeade on numerous occasions during their first two years at school, the trip held considerably less allure.

Their first stop in the village had been at Zonko's, which was so overcrowded with Hogwarts students that it had taken the boys nearly an hour to refill their recently depleted Dungbomb supplies, and where they had been bumped and jostled so many times that James said loudly that the next student who knocked into him would have his ears transfigured into turnips. Thinking it might be early enough to avoid the lunch crowds, the boys ventured to the Three Broomsticks next, where this assumption was immediately proven wrong. By the time they finally found some stools at the bar, both Sirius and James were grumbling that they much preferred Hogsmeade with no other students at all. To top it off, the pretty waitress Rosmerta could be seen bustling from table to table, her wand making a teetering stack of sullied drink glasses float in front of her, but instead of Rosmerta, they had their drink orders taken by a rather rotund, harried looking man behind the bar, who slammed their butterbeers down so forcefully that half of the contents slopped out onto the bar top.

"Cheers," James told him sarcastically. The man rolled his eyes and lumbered toward the next boisterous group of students.

"So you know what I did for the first time this morning?" Sirius started after they had all settled into their drinks.

"Your History of Magic homework?" Remus suggested.

"Nah, I think I turned in an essay once in first year."

"Ate some fruit at breakfast?" posed Peter.

Sirius pulled a face. "Why would I want fruit when there's bacon and eggs to be had?"

"Asked us pointless questions that none of us will know the answer to?" James said.

"Well clearly it's not the first time I've done that."

"But I'm hoping it's the last."

"No," said Sirius, leaning his elbows on the bar and taking another sip of his drink. "I actually looked at that book we stole from McGonagall. The Animagi one."

Remus looked around them in a panic and almost fell off his stool. "Will you shut up, you git, anyone can hear you in here!"

It was true that they were surrounded by other patrons to the point of excess. Peter had scooted his seat so far forward to avoid being hit by a wayward elbow that his sternum was now pressed into the edge of the bar.

Sirius also looked around, ducking his head to narrowly dodge being swiped as a seventh-year Hufflepuff tossed her cloak over her shoulder without looking. "No one can hear us, this place is as loud as a jabberknoll slaughter. It's a right better place to talk about this than the common room, say."

"You've never looked at that book before?" James continued.

Sirius shrugged, his eyes drawn toward the door when a group of Ravenclaw girls walked into the pub. "No, Moony's always got it hidden away in his trunk, and seeing as how we haven't got past all of the connecting rubbish in the first book, there's been no need to –"

"Wait a minute," Remus interrupted, a disturbing thought dawning on him. "That book was in my trunk this morning."

Sirius appeared unconcerned. "Yes, well, I was looking in your trunk for some socks when I spotted it and decided to have a flip through."

"Why were you looking in my trunk for some socks?"

"Because I couldn't find a match to any of my socks. All singles. And the rest were dirty. And your socks are always rolled, so it's easy to find a matching pair."

"Hold it, do you wear my socks often?"

"Not often, per se, but James's socks are never matching, and Peter's are too thin, they don't keep my feet warm. Yours are all nice and woolly."

Remus stared at him for a moment before shaking his head incredulously. "I am going to start charming my trunk locked."

"Moony, you know I can break your locking charms. Who do you think got into the secret chocolate stash in your bedside cabinet last year?"

"You said that was the house elves!"

"Oh yeah…"

"Stop stealing my socks."

"But my toes get cold!"

"Stop stealing my socks, Sirius," Remus repeated, in as commanding a voice as he could muster.

"Anyway," Sirius continued, waving his hand as though to sweep the entire conversation away, "as I was saying, I was reading through McGonagall's book for the first time, and how come none of you told me that we're going to have to keep a mandrake leaf in our mouths for an entire month in order to become Animagi? What in the hell is that all about?"

James, who had been watching Rosmerta serve a group of Slytherins in the corner booth, turned back toward his friends. "Wait, what?"

"You didn't know about this either?"

Peter looked horrified. "How are we supposed to eat?"

"Have none of you read the book?" asked Remus, exasperated.

"Er, I scanned through it right after we got it," said James, "but I didn't read it cover to cover. A whole month? How is that even possible?"

Remus looked around, still uncomfortable with the amount of people nearby who might overhear them. "Well let's not worry ourselves about that yet. You'll need to get through the connecting and spells first anyway."

Peter frowned. "What's a mandrake leaf taste like? What if it's horrible tasting?"

"What if it gives you bad breath?"

"What if you swallow it by accident?"

"Or choke on the bloody thing in your sleep!"

Sighing, Remus swirled his butterbeer around in his glass, watching the froth churn and eddy. The full moon wasn't for another five days, but his energy was already beginning to wane. The moon's effects were starting to creep outward over time, a weed that had once smothered him for only one or two days of the month, but was now wrapping its tendrils around him for three, four, five days longer. He had read about this, had known it was coming, that as he got older and bigger, the transformations would cause more of an impact on his body, but he hadn't been prepared for the exhaustion, the shakiness. He tuned out his friends' discussion of mandrake leaves, pushing away the guilt that plagued him at the thought of their discomfort. He would hold a leaf in his mouth for years and years if it would alleviate even a fraction of the torture he endured while turning into a wolf every month.

Remus was brought out of his thoughts by the appearance of Davey Gudgeon, who pushed his way through the crowd toward them. For some reason, he was wearing a knit cap with ear flaps and a pompom on the tip, and looked utterly ridiculous. "Potter!"

"Gudgeon," James greeted, as Davey wedged himself in next to them. "Nice hat."

"I lost a bet to Adamsly," explained Davey with a shrug of his shoulders. "And I'm trying to get some dignity back, along with a few Galleons."

Sirius laughed. "Good luck with the Galleons, mate, but I think your dignity's well shot."

"That's why I'm over here. We're starting a pool on the upcoming Ravenclaw-Hufflepuff match, thought you four might want in."

"Odds?" James asked.

"Three-to-one Hufflepuff, with the spread at 200…not bad, the Puffs are a complete unknown."

"You hear they picked up Stebbins as Keeper?"

"Aye," said Davey, pulling at one of his ear flaps distractedly. "Third years are generally a bit young for Keeping, but he's a big kid, so that might make up for it."

Sirius pulled some gold out of his pocket and handed it to Davey. "I'll put five Galleons on the Puffs to cover."

"Ten for me," James agreed, digging through his own pockets.

Davey raised his eyebrows and fought a grin while he waited for James to extract the money. "Suit yourselves. Lupin? Pettigrew?"

Both Peter and Remus politely declined, and after a clap on James's shoulder, Davey turned and made his way back through the crowded pub, his ludicrous hat bouncing in and out of sight.

Peter turned to James, looking skeptical. "Hufflepuff? Really?"

"Didn't Hufflepuff finish in last place last year?" Remus asked.

James and Sirius shared mischievous grins. "We may have used the cloak to sneak into Hufflepuff's practice last week. They're on form. They've got a new Keeper in Stebbins and a new Seeker in Florence Milligan and they look lightyears ahead of the Ravenclaws at this point."

"And if there's one thing I trust James on," said Sirius, downing the rest of his butterbeer, "it's Quidditch."

"That's it? That's the one thing?" James asked, perturbed.

"Well I wouldn't trust your advice on asking out a girl, that's for sure," said Sirius, smirking and nodding toward the door, where Lily Evans had just entered with Adin Balini, hair tangled from the wind.

James glanced over at the girls before turning back to the bar, the tips of his ears glowing pink. "Have we not moved on from that?"

"At least she's not with Snape," Peter pointed out.

"What's her deal, anyway?" asked James, glowering into the last sips of his butterbeer. "Sometimes she's down for a laugh and sometimes she's such a…a prig."

They were saved having to answer by a warm voice behind them. "Well if it isn't my favorite four patrons, who, if I recall correctly, at one point told me they didn't partake in Hogsmeade weekends due to the crowds?"

Rosmerta was standing behind them with a pile of dishes in her hands, smiling at the four boys while getting jostled slightly by the crowd that surged around them.

"Decided to brave it," Sirius said without a second's hesitation. "We're Gryffindors after all."

"Though I think we were onto something," James added. "It's a madhouse in here."

Rosmerta smiled and walked around the bar, where she deposited the used plates into the basin, flicking her wand so that a sudsy sponge began washing away the grime. A pair of wrinkled old warlocks at the other end of the bar called to her and she nodded toward them briefly before pulling two clean glasses off the rack.

"Another butterbeer, boys?" she asked the four Gryffindors as she uncorked a bottle of Ogden's Old Firewhisky and poured it into the two glasses.

"We'll take some of that," Sirius said, nodding toward the bottle of firewhisky.

Rosmerta laughed and sent the two glasses to the warlocks with a flick of her wand. "You're good, but you're not that good," she told him.

Sirius shrugged, clearly unconcerned. "Worth a shot. Another round of butterbeers, then."

As she began filling four more glasses with butterbeer from the tap, she looked over at the boys and asked, "What are you lot up to this afternoon? Zonko's, I'm assuming?"

"Already been there," said James. "It was more crowded than this place, if you can imagine. Couldn't swing a kneazle."

She placed the drinks in front of them and then leaned her forearms on the bar, smiling at them, and Remus had to busy himself with his butterbeer to avoid staring at her too much.

"Well if you're looking to get away from the crowds, you could always check out the Shrieking Shack. Not too many students are brave enough to go up there lately."

"No way it's actually frightening," Sirius scoffed.

"Don't be so sure. I've heard the screaming myself. It's like people are being tortured in there. In the last few years, something has, I don't know, awoken in that house. It tends to be quiet during the day, but every once in a while…" She shivered and faded off. The round barman was calling to her to get back to work, so she regretfully stood up straight and said, "Well anyhow, I'm sure brave Gryffindors like yourselves wouldn't balk at the chance to check it out."

She winked at them before walking back around the bar and disappearing into the crowd.

James's mouth was slightly open as he stared at the place where she had disappeared. "Merlin, she's fit. Why can't girls at Hogwarts wear robes like that?"

It was a question they all lamented, but even the hope that Rosmerta might appear again could not convince them to stay at the Three Broomsticks much longer. By the time they finished their second drinks, they had been bumped and elbowed so many times by students queuing at the bar that all four of them were very ready to leave the pub and take Rosmerta up on her suggestion to visit the famed Shrieking Shack. It was a grey, brisk day, and the harsh wind whipped their faces as they wandered up a sloped lane toward the house, though Remus found he didn't mind it after the claustrophobia of the pub. As they walked, Sirius and James began debating which joke they should play next on Snape.

"But we've already done that," Sirius whined. "It's no fun to do it again."

"Just think, disillusioned Dungbombs in his trunk? At the bottom of his bed? Merlin, it was a brilliant bloody prank…two weeks…two weeks he couldn't figure out where the stench was coming from…everybody – even the professors – avoiding him in the corridors…"

"I agree with James," said Peter. "It was hilarious, everyone thought so. Remember Mulciber refusing to sit behind him in Potions?"

Remus had not agreed with the supposed brilliance of the Dungbomb prank; indeed, the fact that they had used a Permanent Sticking Charm to adhere it to Snape's bag had seemed unnecessarily harsh to Remus, though as he had not heard of that detail until after the damage had been done, he had refrained from objecting. He himself did not have extra funds to buy a new school bag if his current one became permanently marred, and he perceived Snape's case to be similar. When Snape had discovered the source of the odor after nearly two weeks, he had been forced to cut a hole in his bag to remove the offending Dungbomb and then patch it with some spare fabric. James and Sirius had found this endlessly funny. Remus found it cruel.

"Sirius is right," Remus said as they approached the dilapidated house. "Don't do the same joke again. It's…" (Unfunny? Malicious? Heartless?) "…unimaginative."

"Oh all right," conceded James as they all slowed, climbing over a wooden fence, stumbling through an overgrown garden, and nearing the house. "Maybe we should get to work on that love potion one, then. Depending on if we can get the ingredients in time, we can have it ready for Halloween."

"Just Snivelly or all the Slytherins?" Sirius asked, craning his neck to try and peer into a boarded-up window.

"All the Slytherins!" Peter chirped. His cloak had gotten caught in a bramble and he was now several paces behind the rest of them, attempting to untangle himself.

James tried unsuccessfully to pry a slat away from the door. "We can't do all the Slytherins, it's not feasible. But we can pick a handful of the slimiest…"

Around the side of the house, there was a tiny gap in the wooden slats that covered the windows, and Remus cupped his hands around his left eye and peered into it, trying to see into the house through the grime. The darkness on the other side of the glass, especially relative to the grey light of the day, made it difficult to discern anything but dusty shapes, but after a minute his eye adjusted and focused on what once must have been an ornate lounge chair. Two of its legs had been viciously ripped from it, and splintered wooden fragments littered the floor around it like pine needles. Realization – piercing, icy realization – washed over him, and he stumbled backwards, away from the house.

"Lestrange, definitely," Sirius was saying, and Remus could hear his voice as if from the opposite end of a long tunnel. "Git tried to jinx me when I was walking back from the greenhouses the other day…"

"…and Avery, of course…"

"And Rosier…we can't forget that puffed-up ponce…"

"Throw Mulciber in there for good measure…"

"What say you, Moony?" Sirius turned at the lack of response and frowned at Remus, who was backing away through the brambles, his eyes fixed on the house in front of him. "Moony?"

"Remus?" James called, nonplussed. "What…did you see a ghoul in there or something?"

His breaths were coming raggedly and a light fog was taking up residence over his eyes. Remus reached a shaky hand out to steady himself against the decrepit old fence that separated the house from the lane. The house. His house.

"It's not haunted," he told the others as they moved toward him, confusion and concern on their faces. He was surprised that his voice sounded vaguely normal, stronger than he had expected, when the rest of his body felt like it was about to collapse in on itself.

"What do you mean? What's going on?" asked Peter.

"It's…it's…"

"Wait a minute," James said, recognition dawning on his face as he looked back and forth between the house and Remus's pale face.

Remus focused on taking a deep, calming breath. "Yeah."

"The Shrieking Shack?"

"Yes."

"Really? It's…"

"Yes."

"Oh."

A beat passed, and then Sirius said, sounding annoyed, "Is somebody going to explain what's going on or are you two going to keep talking in code?"

"It's the house I go to," Remus said, his eyes locked on a brittle vine that had snaked its way up the fence post. "This house. It's the one I come to…to transform. It's not haunted."

Sirius paled. "The screams the villagers hear?"

Remus nodded. "They're me."

Turning to stare back at the house, Sirius cursed under his breath and then looked back at Remus. "You okay, mate?"

He did not honestly know how to answer the question, but managed a half nod, half shrug.

"C'mon," Sirius said, clapping a hand on Remus's shoulder. "Let's go back up to the school."

"We'll get some lunch in the castle," added James, as they started back down the path they had just ascended. "No point in dealing with all the idiots down in the village, it'd take hours just to eat."

They lapsed into silence as they walked. Rosmerta's words echoed in Remus's skull… It's like people are being tortured in there… Well, she wasn't wrong, really. And the house – the Shrieking Shack – wasn't haunted with ghosts, but it certainly housed a monster once a month. How could he not have known? How could Dumbledore not have told him? He felt dirtied and, worse, he felt foolish. He quickened his pace, and James and Peter fell behind, but Sirius matched his stride.

"You know," started Sirius, shoving his hands into his pockets and ducking his head against a particularly biting gust of wind, "it's actually pretty cool, when you think about it. I mean, you're kind of a legend, mate. Everyone thinks that place is haunted because of you. It's kind of like the ultimate prank…because you're not remotely scary. In fact, you're like the least scary person I know."

Remus glared at him. "It's not cool, Sirius."

"Yeah, all right," Sirius conceded after noticing the look on Remus's face. He paused for a moment before starting again. "I guess you can be a bit scarier than Peter – though most of the time it scares me how thick he can be. And James tries to be scary, but he's a mite too scrawny and specky to scare much more than a Hufflepuff firstie, so it's hard to take him seriously. But really, Remus, if we're talking fear factor here, you're the one who alphabetizes the books in his trunk, so you're probably not going to have much of a leg to stand on."

"Sirius?"

"Yeah?"

"Shut up."

He grinned. "Okay."

And despite the fact that Sirius never did anything he was told to do, they remained quiet until they had made it all the way through the Hogwarts gates, which were flanked on either side by winged boars.

"Moony? Can I say something now?"

Remus sighed and looked at him, but Sirius was looking straight ahead as he walked, an uncharacteristically pensive look on his face. "Yeah."

"Do you remember what you told me this summer? After we overheard those Boneses talking?"

It took a second for Remus to recognize what Sirius was referring to, but Sirius didn't give him a chance to answer.

"You told me that all we can do is try to prove them wrong. To try and make a good impact. Just…don't forget it, all right?"

"Yeah," Remus said, horrified to feel the tightness in his throat, so he went for levity, even though it felt miles out of reach. "Yeah, I remember. And then you went and snogged a Muggle to make yourself feel better."

Sirius barked out a laugh as they began climbing the stone steps back up to the castle. "Well I don't think there are any Muggles near, but I'm sure we can find a girl willing to give you a nice snog if it'll make you feel better…" He stopped his ascent in the middle of the staircase and turned to look down at James and Peter, who were about ten paces behind. "Oi! James!"

James closed the gap between them quickly, taking the steps two at a time, Peter hurrying along behind him.

"We need to find Moony a girl to snog," Sirius said once they were all in line again. James and Peter sniggered and Remus groaned as they finished climbing the stairs.

"Sirius…"

"He claims that's the only way he could possibly feel better."

"I didn't say anything like –"

James did not miss a beat. "Are we talking before or after lunch?"

"Before, I'd say."

"Right. The sooner the better."

They made their way through the giant oak doors and into the entrance hall, which was completely empty. Remus scowled at Sirius, trying to get a word in. "I don't want –"

"Could be tricky, all the girls are down in the village."

"Except the younger ones…"

"What do you say to a nice second year, Moony? I bet we can find one round here somewhere."

"Can probably be more choosy with the second years…make sure you pick a good-looking one."

They stopped and looked around, as if expecting a second-year girl to emerge from behind a suit of armor, ready and willing to kiss Remus on the spot. Remus bit his lip, torn between laughter and a desire to strangle the pair of them. It was not an uncommon sentiment.

"You two are completely mental, you know that?"

"Right, well –"

A high-pitched meow echoed from near their feet and Sirius cut off and leapt back as if scalded. The caretaker's cat, Mrs. Newton, was mewling at them from the stone floor, her yellow eyes narrowed in what could only be described as suspicion. James sniggered at Sirius's startled reaction.

"What?" Sirius scowled down at the cat, which stood its ground, blinking up at him. "Why are you looking at us like that? Scram!"

The cat did not move and within seconds, a raspy wheezing could be heard as Filch hurried down the marble staircase toward the boys.

"Ha!" Filch said triumphantly as he neared them. "Caught you red-handed this time, didn't I?"

The boys exchanged confused looks with one another.

"We're just standing here…"

Filch leered at James, his jowls quivering. "A likely story! You've just been to the village!"

"So what?" Sirius said, throwing glares at the cat that circled the caretaker's feet tauntingly. "Is it a crime for us to come back early?"

"No, but I'd bet good Galleons that you batch of miscreants have brought items back that are a crime. Now turn out your pockets!"

The boys stared at Filch, astounded.

"What are you on about?" Sirius snapped, and Remus tried to give him a warning look that was thoroughly ignored. "We haven't done anything wrong."

"Watch your tone, Black, or it'll be detention for you," wheezed Filch. He reached into his robes and pulled out a piece of parchment, which he brandished at them victoriously. "The headmaster approved my list of banned objects just this morning, and I am entitled to ensure that no student is bringing anything on this list back into the castle. So I repeat – turn out your pockets or we take it up with Dumbledore."

After several seconds of indignant glaring, the boys realized they had no choice but to obey, and pulled out their various Zonko's purchases from their pockets. Mrs. Newton was curling around Filch's legs, purring loudly, and Remus could tell that Sirius wanted nothing more than to aim a good kick at her.

"Ah, yes, Dungbombs, number two on the list…stink pellets, number eight…" Filch murmured, snapping the offending items out of their hands one by one. "What's this, Lupin? An Insulting Inkpot? Must be a new product…I'll take that too."

"Hey!" Remus said, outraged. He had paid four Sickles for that ink. "That's not even on your list!"

"It will be soon, don't you worry," said Filch, piling every one of their new purchases in his arms and giving them a hideous, leering sneer. "Now, considering the amount of contraband you four were carrying, I see no other option but to assign you each a detention. You can spend tomorrow night cleaning out bedpans in the hospital wing."

And with that, Filch slumped away, a look of triumph on his blotchy face, Mrs. Newton trailing after him.

"Well that's just…I can't believe…what a…" James sputtered, staring at the door Filch had disappeared through with a look of incredulous indignation on his face. "How can he do that?"

"I spent half my money on those stink pellets!" moaned Peter.

"And we got a detention! For absolutely no reason!" James continued, mutinous. "That old git has it out for us! What'd we ever do to him?"

"Filled his office with Dungbombs…locked his cat in Moaning Myrtle's toilet…stole his pants and made them dance…"

"Shut up, Peter," James muttered before turning to Sirius, who had strangely said nothing, but who had a shrewd, defiant look on his face. "You know what this means?"

"War," said Sirius without pause.

"Bloody war."

"Bloody, widespread, nonstop war on Filch."

"And that damn cat."

"I hate that damn cat."

"Er guys," Peter cut in after a moment of continued glaring. "Can we go eat now?"

Remus, vexed though he was about Filch's injustice, had no appetite; indeed, the thought of poking at some food while listening to his friends plan ridiculous ways to wage war on the caretaker seemed wholly un-enticing at the moment. When the other three moved toward the Great Hall, Remus hung back.

"I'm going back up to the common room," he said, and the others stopped and turned to stare at him.

"Don't you want lunch?" asked James.

"No, I'm not hungry."

Sirius started toward him. "I'll come with you."

"No…no, really, I'm fine." Remus began climbing the marble staircase before further protest. "I'll meet up with you in Gryffindor Tower a little later, okay? Go eat lunch."

And without another glance, Remus hurried up the staircase and away from his friends, wanting nothing more than a few minutes of silence to gather his thoughts. He had no real intention of returning to the common room at that moment, and instead took to wandering the corridors, which, with the majority of the students still in the village, were almost completely empty.

He felt alternately hollow and as if he had a lead weight in his stomach. He should have known there was more to the house, more to Dumbledore's cover-up, and his own ignorance rankled more than he would care to admit. Why hadn't he figured it out? If he had paid closer attention to the stories overheard about the Shrieking Shack, would he have realized sooner? Would he have felt this foolish? He wanted to talk to Dumbledore, to yell and rage at the headmaster for keeping him in the dark, for not disclosing the detail that the villagers and his classmates heard his agony and assumed he was some sort of monster.

But you are a monster, the voice in his head told him. And the fact that he had no argument against it hurt worst of all.

"Mr. Lupin?"

Remus started. It was Professor Romielle, walking toward him from the other side of the Charms corridor. She was wearing a long traveling cloak and, based on the rather wind-ravaged state of her honey-colored hair, she had just come in from the grounds.

"Hello Professor," Remus said, suddenly feeling awkward. He had never spoken to her outside of Defense Against the Dark Arts class before.

She approached him, a look of concern shadowing her features. "Are you all right?"

He nodded quickly but did not meet her eyes until she put a gentle hand on his shoulder.

"I was just going to my office to pick up some papers, but after fighting through that wind, I think I deserve a hot cup of tea. Can I offer you one?"

And so, not entirely certain how he had wound up there, Remus found himself ten minutes later sitting in a cozy armchair in Professor Romielle's office.

The office had an unused feel to it. Unlike the majority of the teachers at Hogwarts, Remus knew that Professor Romielle did not live in the castle and that her position there only supplemented her position as an Auror at the Ministry of Magic. She had made effort enough, he noticed, to furnish the space with two armchairs and an adorned crimson rug, but the details of the room had not been addressed. Only a handful of books sat in a stack on her otherwise empty bookshelf. The handsome cherry desk had a thin layer of dust on it. The tea kettle that she had brought out needed to be scourgified with a wave of her wand before she could fill it with water and set it over the fire.

She seemed to notice him observing his surroundings.

"Not very impressive, is it?" she asked, tossing her traveling cloak over her desk and sitting down into the armchair next to him. "I have to be honest, I do most of my work at home in the evenings. It's not so stuffy."

"No, it's – er – nice," he said idly, watching her as she fixed him a cup of tea.

It seemed an obvious fib, and he did not suspect that she believed his polite falsehood, but she just smiled at him and handed him the teacup.

"Milk? Sugar?" she offered.

"No, thank you."

"Me either," she said, pouring her own cup before placing the kettle back over the fire and settling into her chair. "My sister takes about six sugars…I never could understand."

Remus did not have any adequate response to this, so he occupied himself by taking a sip of the tea, which scalded the inside of his mouth. He was beginning to regret accepting the offer to join her.

"Are you sure everything's okay, Remus?" asked Romielle after a moment, looking closely at his face.

"Oh." He swallowed and averted his gaze. "Yes, I'm fine, thank you."

As this was said with even less conviction than the lie about her office, it was unsurprising that she was not assured. She placed her cup of untouched tea on the small table between their seats and leaned forward toward him.

"I was on duty in Hogsmeade today and I noticed you and your friends walking up toward the Shrieking Shack." He swayed slightly, wanting her to stop talking, but she did not. "Did something happen up there, Remus? Did your friends maybe find something out about you or your condition?"

"What?" he yelped, a bit of the tea sloshing out and burning his hand. "No, of course not!"

"Okay," she replied easily, continuing to gaze at him. They fell into silence and Remus fidgeted, wiping the spilt tea on the knee of his robes.

"It's only…" He did not know how to articulate it, or why he felt such a strong need to do so. "The Shrieking Shack. Before today I didn't know…I hadn't put two and two together. I didn't realize it's where I go to…to…transform."

Romielle picked her tea up again and leaned back in her chair. "Ah. I can see how that would have been quite a shock for you."

"Everyone thinks it's haunted, but it's not. It's just me they're hearing. Me. It's wrong. It feels wrong."

"Why is it wrong?"

"Because!" he said, trying to quell a bit of the desperation inside of him. "Because…because Dumbledore could have put a Silencing Charm on the house, you know he could have! But he didn't. He didn't care if the villagers could hear…if they could hear m-my…screaming and my…"

The painful tightness had returned to the back of his throat and he breathed deeply, staring into his cup of tea, willing himself not to cry. Merlin, he was weak.

"Remus." Her voice was quiet and gentle. "Of course you're upset, of course you are. You should have been told. It's terrible that you had to discover it the way you did." She paused to give him a chance to respond, but he did not even look up at her. "Professor Dumbledore knows of the rumors in the village. In fact, he has encouraged them."

It took a second for this statement to resonate and when it did, Remus's eyes snapped up to lock on the professor's.

"What?"

She nodded. "He wants the villagers to be afraid of the house because it helps to ensure that they keep their distance from it. Their fears keep them safe."

"From me," he muttered.

"Yes, from you." She said it kindly, but it still felt like a dull blow. "You are extremely dangerous during the full moon, Remus. Extremely."

His thoughts flew back to the night when James, Sirius, and Peter had sneaked to the shack behind him, the gut-wrenching terror that he was going to maul them, kill them. He did not need someone else telling him how dangerous he was.

"I know," he said curtly.

"Okay," she replied, recognizing his tone. "It doesn't make you a bad person."

"Right."

"It doesn't. Remus – look at me – it doesn't."

"You were frightened of me, though, when you first heard about me," he said, surprising himself by speaking so bluntly to a professor. But he had thought of the way she had faltered when she learned his name that first day in class, the way her eyes had widened almost imperceptibly, and he could not bite his tongue. "Don't deny it, Professor. I could tell when we first met."

She looked taken aback for a brief moment, but then gave him a small, sad smile. "I didn't know what to expect with you, I'll admit. I had never met a…boy like you before –"

"A werewolf. Just say it," he mumbled, his flash of anger now melting into humiliation.

"Yes, I had never met a werewolf before, at least that I am aware of, and it was a shock to learn that I would be teaching one for the year. But it was only that, Remus, just a shock. And now I am so thankful for the opportunity to teach you, not because of what you are one night of the month, but because you're a kind, clever, talented and good person."

"Okay," he said, unconvinced.

She surveyed him, looking troubled, before saying, "I've been an Auror now for three years and I've…" She faded off and then seemed to collect herself. "I've seen bad people. I've seen what they do. I've seen monsters and what they're capable of. You are not one of them, Remus. You aren't like them."

His first inclination was not to believe her, but she reminded him of his friends, he realized. Of Sirius clapping him on the shoulder, of James making him laugh, of Peter floating a foot off the ground in his effort to become an Animagus. There was kindness here. And though he still wasn't sure he was entirely convinced by her, he allowed himself to feel it.

"Thanks," he whispered after a moment.

She gave him a small smile, took another sip of her tea, and then said in a much more cheerful tone, "And you have been very impressive in my lessons, I'll have you know…one of the best in your year. I'd like if we could meet more often. I could lend you books, if you'd like, to further your studies. You have a natural aptitude for Defense. It's readily apparent."

"Really?"

Her smile was full now. It may have been the kindest smile he had ever seen.

"Really."

"I'm surprised she's even letting us stay in here after that, Sirius."

"What are you on about? She loves me!"

"She gave you detention!"

"Well she can't show favoritism, it's bad form. You know…she's not half-bad looking."

"Eurgh, she's like thirty!"

"Just saying. I think she likes me."

Remus was lying in a bed in the hospital wing, cocooned in a swath of starchy sheets, trying to make sense of the voices around him. His brain was foggy and his muscles were aching with tiny spasms of past toil. The night of the full moon had been particularly brutal, and he had spent the previous day in and out of consciousness as Madam Pomfrey worked to set his broken bones and administer his healing potions. He could not recollect much of what had happened to him, and the little bit that he could recall caused him to shiver and pull his blankets more tightly against his chin. Regretfully, he cracked open an eye and winced. The light pouring in through the tall windows indicated that it was sometime around midday. This did not surprise him; the exertion of transforming had become almost unbearable in recent months and his recovery time had started to extend across multiple days. What was surprising, however, was that James, Sirius, and Peter were all next to his bed.

"You're mental," Peter was saying. "You really think the school matron fancies a thirteen-year-old?"

Sirius, who was perched on the window sill next to Remus's bed, shook his hair out of his eyes and grinned at his friends. "I'll be fourteen next week!"

"Yeah, but you'll be an idiot for the rest of your life," laughed James, who was lounging on the bed next to Remus's.

"Amen to that," croaked Remus, his dry voice slightly muffled by his blankets.

"Remus!" said James, sitting up straight. "You're awake!"

"How are you feeling?"

It took a few failed attempts, but Remus was eventually able to pull himself up against his pillows. Hoping they had not noticed the difficulty he had with such a simple maneuver, he looked at his three friends with bleary eyes and did not answer the question.

"What are you doing here? Why aren't you in class?"

"It's lunch hour, and Madam Pomfrey said you'd have the strength today to eat something," Sirius explained. He swung out one of his feet and used his toe to nudge Peter, who was sitting in the visitor's chair beneath the window. "Show him what we brought, Peter."

Peter reached down beneath his chair and brought out a lumpy satchel.

"We came by last night, wondering where you were," said James, pushing his spectacles up his nose and frowning at Remus with concern. "You're never gone this long."

"Pomfrey wouldn't let us in to see you," Sirius said, swinging his leg out to kick Peter again for absolutely no reason. Peter landed a punch to his knee that caused Sirius to grimace.

"Surprised the commotion didn't wake you," James added. "Sirius about threw a fit when she wouldn't let us in. Careful with the pumpkin juice, Peter."

Peter steadied a wobbling flagon of pumpkin juice and set it on Remus's side table before starting to pull wrapped sandwiches out of the bag.

Sirius crossed his arms over his chest and turned up his chin. "I did not throw a fit. I simply wanted to know where she was hiding him."

"We stopped in at break this morning but you were still sleeping," James told Remus, "so we nipped down to the kitchens to load up on what the elves are serving for lunch – chicken-and-ham sandwiches – and then we came straight here when Transfiguration capped about ten minutes ago…we reckoned we could all eat lunch together."

Remus looked around, but Madam Pomfrey was nowhere to be seen.

"And Pomfrey let you in this time? She wasn't suspicious?"

Sirius waved his hand dismissively. "We told her we knew that you had come down with a bug or something a few days ago and that we wanted to visit. It took a few minutes of some very impressive persuading, but we wore her down eventually and she left to get herself some lunch too."

"After giving Sirius a detention," Peter added, tossing one of the sandwiches to James, who sniggered.

Remus sniffed at the sandwich that Peter handed him. He had a hazy memory of the matron feeding him some broth the afternoon before, but as that was all he had eaten in two full days, the sandwich seemed downright mouthwatering.

"What'd you do? Throw another fit?" Remus asked Sirius before taking a large bite of the sandwich. It tasted heavenly.

"Not at all! I was an angel, I'll have you know. Now that I think of it, maybe she was just looking for a way to get me alone…"

"He called her 'Poppy,'" James explained. "He's lucky she only gave him the one detention. That time he tried 'Minnie' on McGonagall earned him a week's worth."

"I still like Mickey-G over Minnie," said Peter.

"Minnie rolls off the tongue better," Sirius countered, his mouth full of sandwich.

"Minnie's overplayed," James said. Sirius shrugged and tore off another bite rather savagely. "Anyway, Remus, we were talking last night about the love potion prank – we don't think there's a chance we can pull it off by Halloween – so we were thinking we hold off on that one and put our full efforts toward Filch. What do you reckon?"

Remus swallowed his bite and nodded. "All right. Are we still going with the suits of armor?"

"Eventually," said James. "Only we overheard Kettleburn telling Hagrid that he's finally gotten his shipment of caipora on loan from Brazil."

Remus looked up at him, hesitant. "I still don't think that one's a good idea. We don't know how the caipora will react –"

"Sure we do," Sirius interrupted. "We read all about it. Plus we have all that pixie dust that we bought last year and we've got to do something with it."

"All right," Remus conceded slowly. "But we've got to get the incantation for Hadrian's Ring down first. It's the only way it'll work."

Sirius nodded and leaned over to pour himself a glass of pumpkin juice. "We think we can get that down in a day or two, and that's really all that's stopping us at this point."

"Not if you're in detention every night," said Peter.

"I'm not in detention every night! I've only got three this week, I'll have you know."

"Three?" Remus asked. "One from Filch…one from Pomfrey…what was the third?"

"Ah…Sluggy caught me hexing Rosier in the corridor before Potions this morning."

"Why'd you do that?"

"Because he's a useless tosser and I thought it'd be a laugh if he treated us all to a tap dance."

James sniggered. "And because Rosier was chatting Gin up in the queue."

"Rosier was trying to chat Gin up in the queue," Sirius corrected him.

Remus noticed Sirius's scowl and felt it best to steer the conversation in a different direction. "What'd I miss in Potions?"

"Learned about the properties of Murtlap Essence," Peter told him. "I took notes for you."

"And I took notes in Transfiguration for you," James added. "Sirius agreed to do Defense this afternoon, but you're out of luck if you want History of Magic."

Remus stared at them, shocked. They had never so much as offered to take notes in missed lessons for him before.

"Yeah," said Sirius, "there's a limit to what we'll do for you, Moony, and paying attention to Binns might be it."

Remus realized that he had somehow, not even consciously, already finished his sandwich and Peter was pushing another one into his hands.

"Thanks," Remus said to all of them.

"No need to thank us," James said, grinning at him through a mouthful of sandwich. "That's what mates are for."