"...said I was sorry." Sirius didn't look the least bit sorry, however, as he leaned against the tree watching James wring water from his robes. "But you know, it was bound to happen."

James glared at him. "You complete berk," he sputtered. "What did you have to go and do that for?"

"I told you," said Sirius, the picture of innocence in the fading autumn sunlight. His face, round and pale and eleven, positively glowed with a lopsided grin and bright-eyed amusement. "It was bound to happen. I caught it and- it wasn't you, James. Anybody who'd come up just then was going to get fished."

They were out at the lake, fresh and restless from afternoon lessons. Sirius, laying on his stomach with one hand trailing in the water, had scooped up a small, silver fish, and when James had leaned over to see it, Sirius saw the space between his neck and the collar of his robes and knew what had to be done. He'd had to haul James out of the lake afterward, but it had been worth it.

"I'll get you back," said James, taking off his spectacles and wiping them on his sleeve. "You're bloody doomed, you little toerag. I mean it."

Sirius laughed harder, and Peter cantered toward them. "Hey- Why is James wet?"

"Fish," said Sirius, in the sort of tone that implied he'd just explained everything. He frowned at Peter. "Where's Remus?"

"He said-" Peter panted, leaning forward with one hand on his knee, "-he said to tell you he's gone off for a couple of days. His aunt's died or something."

James looked concerned. "That's rough." He sat down on the grass with a squishy sort of noise. "Poor fellow." He looked at Peter. "Don't suppose you'd want to go fetch me some dry socks, Pettigrew?"

"Er," said Peter. He looked torn, between having just come from the castle and not wanting to go back, and wanting to go back because James Potter had asked him to. "Well, if you need them..."

"Rather not go round with wet feet," said James, pulling one out of his boot and sticking it in the air, as if to illustrate his point. "Could catch my death."

Sirius nodded, scratching his back up against the tree. "Can't have that!" he chirped.

Peter sighed.

"Righto," he said, and he galloped off back toward the school.

--

The scratching of quills nearly drowned out Remus's voice, always a hushed and urgent sort, when he spoke. "Got to go," he said, gathering up his books and things and shoving them into a battered old rucksack that looked as if it had been through at least one other Hogwarts education besides his own. "I'll see you all later."

Sirius hardly glanced away from his Charms essay. "Where're you off to, Lupin?" he asked. James looked up at him for a moment, then his eyes dropped back to his parchment.

"Oh," said Remus, pausing to sling his bag over his shoulder. He had very rounded shoulders, and bags tended not to stay on them. He was always adjusting it, pulling at the strap, making faces when it slipped off in the hall. "My mum's ill," he said airily, sticking his quill behind one ear. "I've got permission to go and see her for a couple of days."

"Ah." Sirius nodded, and nibbled at the feathered end of his quill. "Well, tell her we say hello."

Remus smiled faintly. "Cheers," he said, and fled. Sirius considered his essay for a moment, wondering if he'd spelled 'fortification' correctly. He hadn't. He scratched it out and wrote it again.

Hours later, Sirius closed his books and rolled up his parchment. The light from the full moon outside the window was making him sleepy.

--

"He's gone again?" asked James. Peter nodded. "What's it this time? His mum again?"

"He didn't say," said Sirius, rolling over onto his back, with his feet on James's pillow. James thumped him in the shins, and he moved them. "He just left directly after dinner."

James quirked an eyebrow. "Last time it was his aunt again. I thought she'd died in October? How could she die again in December?"

"Different aunt?" offered Peter, from around a Sugar Quill.

"Oi," said Sirius, sitting up and snatching the bag from Peter's lap. "Give us one, Pettigrew. Didn't your mum ever teach you to share?" He rummaged around in the bag until he found a red one. Sirius only liked the red ones. He chomped on it thoughtfully. "Think Lupin's up to something?"

"Don't know," said James, taking the bag from Sirius and selecting a green Quill. He stuck it between the gap in his two front teeth. "But you know, it's not nice to lie to your mates."

Peter nodded sagely, and asked for his candy back. Sirius sucked on the end of his Sugar Quill, watching the two of them squabble over the bag. When his eyes flicked toward the window, he bit the Quill in two.

--

Sirius waited until Remus had slipped from the Common Room while everyone was distracted by a particularly loud game of Exploding Snap. When the smoke cleared, he pulled James and Peter aside.

"What do you lot know of werewolves?" he asked.

--

"Are you certain?" James looked dubious, and lowered his voice when Madame Pince sent a glare in his direction. "I mean, it doesn't sound at all like Remus to me."

Sirius snorted. "Well, he's not a werewolf right now, is he? So no, it wouldn't sound like him at all what we've been told." He shoved the open book across the table and poked a finger at a page. "Here, look it."

They read together so quietly that Madame Pince drifted past to see that they were, in fact, studying and not defacing another book. She had not forgiven James for the number he did on page four hundred and twenty-seven of Hogwarts, A History.

Outside, the moon rose fat and white into the February sky.

--

Remus nibbled the business end of his quill, staining his bottom lip with ink that crept into the fine lines of his skin. Sirius watched how it looked like a blue spider-web forming over his mouth. He watched how Remus wrote, his left arm all bunched-up awkwardly and curled over his parchment. He watched how Remus smiled to himself when he thought he'd been particularly clever in whatever he was working on, and frowned whenever he got stuck on something. He watched.

They were all watching Remus now, looking for anything that would tell them that Remus Lupin, who went missing every single month when the moon was full, was in fact a werewolf. Nothing ever stood out, except that Remus liked the pinker bits of the roast beast at meals, and that his eyes were a funny colour of grey and green that James said he'd only ever seen on his dog at home.

Grey and green looked up at Sirius and caught him watching. "What?"

"Nothing," said Sirius. Then, "Are you a werewolf?"

They were alone in that corner of the library, otherwise Sirius wouldn't have asked. Or he would have but he would have kept his voice down a bit more. As it was, Remus stopped moving and his quill left an enormous blotch of blue on the parchment. He stared at Sirius, as did James and Peter before they both looked over at Remus and waited for an answer.

"Well," said Remus finally. "Well, I guess that's done it." He began to put his things away. His hands were shaking.

"Wait," said James, as Sirius asked him, "Are you?" Peter said nothing.

Remus did not answer, so Sirius grabbed his arm.

"Don't." Remus looked pale, and his eyes were too bright. "Please, don't."

Sirius shook his head. "You idiot," he said. "Your aunt died twice."

"Different aunt," said Remus, but the corner of his mouth quirked up.

"And we're not stupid," added James. "Did you think we were stupid or something?"

Remus sighed. "I wasn't supposed to tell," he said quietly. "It was a secret."

"It still is one," said Sirius, grinning like a star. "But didn't your mum ever teach you how to share?"

-end-