A/N: Standard message of I don't own the characters, I just like to twist them around for my own humor purposes. Nor do I make any money off of it.

Second, this is the main piece that I am working on, but 'Full Moon Surrender' is the prequel that gives the backstory for this one. It is possible to read this without having read it, but it does make it easier to understand. Besides, it's fairly short.

Remus groaned as he looked over his stacks of paper, already regretting his hasty acceptance of the Defense Against the Dark Arts position in the fall. True, he enjoyed teaching, but putting together an entire syllabus for all seven years with nothing to go off of was trying his patience. Dumbledore had contacted him a couple weeks ago asking if he would be interested in the position, but Remus knew of the ulterior motive- they wanted someone who knew Sirius Black's habits from school and provide inside information.

Now, there was a sore topic for the werewolf to think about. He and the Marauders had been inseparable through Hogwarts, and even afterwards. He couldn't understand what made Sirius betray Lily and James like that and turn on Peter. Even though there were witnesses to the slaughter on the street, Remus still couldn't accept it, especially after learning that they gave Sirius no trial.

But this wasn't the time or place. Figuring out a proper lesson plan came first, as big of a headache it was turning out to be. He slammed his head on the table- this was getting nowhere. Perhaps chocolate would help him get past this mental block he seemed to have acquired upon entering the plans for the 6th years. Even at the age of 33, he was still a sucker for chocolate. Yes, a nice mug of cocoa and a couple of Honeyduke's finest chocolates were just the ticket.

He sat in his old armchair and sipped at his drink, glancing at the muggle novel, "Lord of the Rings," that he was rereading for the umpteenth time. He had picked up his muggle mother's love of literature and greatly enjoyed their view of life and magic. He was in the middle of the Battle for Helm's Deep when something fell on top of his head.

"What in the world…?" he muttered in confusion, trying to figure out what had dropped on him. There on the floor was a time faded envelope dated 'October 13th, 1981', that made Remus furrow his eyebrows in confusion. Curious, he picked it up and gently removed the letter. He scanned to the bottom and held back a pained cry as he saw it was signed by 'Spitfire and Prongs.' He took a deep breath and began reading the letter that would change his life.

"Dear Moony,

If you are reading this, then our worst fears have been realized and we've been killed, but Harry remains alive. My dear old friend, we have some startling news for you, as we are not there anymore to tell you in person. For the longest time we debated over what we should do after we found out, and even to the point of writing this letter, we have constantly gone back and forth about what is the best path.

Remus, my dear friend, cohort in muggle fiction, and worthy chess opponent, I never told you the truth of what happened that full moon you spent with me as Spitfire. Before I go on, please listen to me when I saw I don't, and have never blamed you for what happened. I will come back and haunt you if you do!

That night, after you transformed, you began to stalk closer and closer and I panicked. I became a wolf by sheer luck, but that wouldn't have meant anything if Moony thought I was a threat. Apparently my magic, unbeknownst to me, triggered a way to ensure my survival- it made Spitfire be in season, knowing that Moony wouldn't harm a potential mate. Moony was instantly affected and I myself was powerless to stop it. Believe me when I say you did not harm me that night in any way, shape or form.

I know you have no memory of this, and if the reason we were writing hadn't occurred, we would have spared you the grief of knowing. Since we cannot be there for you, we pass on the secret we took to the grave.

Remus, you are not alone in this world as you may think. Your brilliant mind might already be putting the pieces of this puzzle together. Yes, Harry is indeed your son. I'm sure you're probably as shocked as I was when I found out I was pregnant and the date of when it happened.

Moony, my fellow partner in crime and honorary brother, while it might have been easier if Harry had been mine for his own sake, I loved him like my own the moment I saw his bright green eyes and sandy brown hair. He is the light in the darkness of our world and I don't regret how he came to be. Do you remember a time where I popped in unannounced like usual and proceeded to badger you about girlfriends and children? Knowing you and that photographic memory of yours, you are probably now making the connection. We were worried if there would be negative side effects. You told me that if the child did indeed inherit the virus, it wouldn't become active until their thirteenth year. But we don't know if there are other possible effects from the unusual coupling. We can only hope that everything works out.

After he was born, we gave him a potion that would cover his heritage for the time being, but we found out that the shift to wolf form (if he is indeed a werewolf) for the first time will flush the potion from his system. Because we don't know what the future holds, we left the ingredients for another heritage potion that would be otherwise unobtainable, in the main Potter vault (which we of course left to both you and Harry, knowing just how bias the wizarding world is against werewolves). We hope that it won't be necessary, but with the way the world is now, we don't want to risk putting either of you in jeopardy if there is no other choice.

We have only sent Sirius the information as well, so please find Harry (if he's not already living with you two) and break the news to him, as we feel it would be easier coming from you, rather than a letter.

We wish you all the best and hope that for a change, your life takes a turn for the better.

Your loving friends (and brother!)

Spitfire and Prongs

PS. Next time you see Padfoot, give him a kick in the ass for being a douche bag about that bet he won with the Cannons!"

His hands trembled as he finished reading the letter. He'd never known, and never would have, if they hadn't written this. The normal, calm and collected exterior crumbled as tears poured down his face, remembering the fear he'd felt when he discovered Lily was trapped. He remembered the look of terror on her face as his transformation began. But most of all, he remembered the agonizing despair he'd felt when he discovered the next morning, terrified to look around for the fear of finding a friend dead by his own doing.

But then, a new thought slowly creeping into his consciousness and remained, tugging at emotions he didn't know still existed.

He had a son.