Note: For Greeniron, for reminding me that this story does in fact still exist! None of my stories are ever truly abandoned, trust me! Thanks to you and everyone else who has reviewed – as you can see you have spurred me on to update at last!

I wrote the middle section of this five times. I hope I got it at least vaguely right!

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.

5: An Exercise in Blind Faith

"Stand up straight," Madam Pomfrey instructed briskly as she finished dusting an invisible spec of dirt from the sleeve of her charge's robes, "let me get a good look at you!"

Twelve year old Remus Lupin peered up at the witch through heavy-lidded eyes, his shoulders slumped wearily.

The school matron sighed heavily, rocking back on her heels in consideration, the uneven floorboards of the ramshackle shack creaking beneath her, before reaching to press a reassuring hand to the boy's shoulder, assuring him:

"You'll do! Now off we go, you don't want to miss breakfast now, do you?"

The werewolf shuffled gingerly towards the door that led out into the long, dim passage beyond, one arm hugged tightly to his chest.

"That won't hurt for long, believe me." Madam Pomfrey insisted, sounding far too cheerful for the morning after a full moon, as far as Remus was concerned. "You'll barely notice it by dinnertime!"

"Is it going to scar?" the boy wondered dully, rubbing at the thick bandages under his school uniform, and very nearly huffed at the way the witch's face twisted in agonised deliberation as she attempt to think of a suitably kind response. Eventually she settled on a suitably vague:

"Only a little, I'm sure."

Remus wanted to tell her that this was what she had said the previous month, when he'd awoken from his transformation with a generous stream of blood pouring down his leg from a deep gash upon his thigh, and he'd sat in the bath only a couple of days ago and stared bleakly at the sunken streak of dead skin, thinking that really it wasn't little in the slightest...

He wondered how he'd look when he grew up. Just how scarred could a body become before it became too difficult to hide?

Before one stopped looking normal and started looking...well...grotesque.

"You will write home straight after breakfast, won't you?" Madam Pomfrey was saying, leaping into the next part of their usual routine as they set off down the corridor at Remus' slow, shuffling pace.

"Yes, Madam Pomfrey."

"You mustn't forget."

"No, Madam Pomfrey."

"Your mother was quite anxious last month when you waited until dinner, you quite wrecked her nerves! You don't want that now, do you?"

"No, Madam Pomfrey."

"Come straight up to the Hospital Wing if you need to."

"Yes, Madam Pomfrey."

"And don't tug at those bandages, it'll only make it worse, believe me."

"Yes, Madam Pomfrey."

The two of them paused at the entrance to the Shrieking Shack and, as she always did, the witch gazed down at the werewolf in consideration for a long moment, her brisk, no-nonsense exterior wavering a little before she finally murmured:

"Good boy. You're very brave."

As per usual Remus plastered an almost-smile onto his face before turning to slip out into the school grounds as quickly as possible. Her final words to him were what he always dreaded the most each time he awoke after a full moon spent in the Shrieking Shack, because he was never quite sure how to respond to them.

Sometimes Remus felt simply as if he might just burst into tears at the mere look on her face, or sometimes he thought something infinitely worse might happen and he might inform her frankly that he was in fact not brave at all.

He had always managed to bite his tongue, which was quite a relief given the potentially dreadful conversation that would probably follow. She'd probably say all those things adults always said to children who point out something that they would rather ignore, like: don't be silly, or don't you go saying a thing like that, and Remus could not imagine anything more wildly frustrating because he knew without a doubt that he was right and she was wrong.

How could he be brave? It was impossible. Bravery involved an element of choice, one had to choose to place oneself in a situation, one had to decide to do something difficult. He hadn't chosen to be bitten, he didn't volunteer to go through the trauma and agony of transformations each month, nobody ever presented him with any options about the whole grizzly routine, it just happened. It was the same every month, it was a curse, it was just the way life went and what on Earth was brave about that? He certainly hadn't had a single brave thought the previous evening when he had watched Madam Pomfrey disappear behind a closed door, leaving him to quietly weep to himself to hear the lock clicking firmly and her footsteps fading into the distance as the dull ache of the moon had slowly started to creep over him...

Sometimes he thought one of the best things about his friends James, Sirius and Peter not knowing about his condition, other than the fact that they would no doubt want nothing to do with him whatsoever if the truth came out, was that they never tried to dance around the situation or try to pretend that it was something it was not whilst assuming they understood everything that was going on in Remus' head. Indeed, no matter how weak and sickly Remus felt that morning, it was a great relief to get back up to the castle and throw himself back into normal every day life. Not to mention the sheer relief that he could do precisely that, instead of being carted off to hospital or smuggled into the Hospital Wing whilst the other students were in their lessons. At times like that he was simply glad that he wasn't dead.

As he shuffled off up the sweeping gravel pathway towards the castle's main entrance, Remus wondered what excuse he had would dream up next month to explain his absence to his friends. He'd played the classic My Mother Is Sick card yesterday and the expressions upon both James and Sirius' faces had made him feel...well...uneasy.

He wouldn't be using that excuse again for a while, that was for sure!

He found breakfast was in full swing when he reached the Great Hall, and Remus made a beeline for the Gryffindor table, tugging self-consciously at his robes as he went. He ran his eyes down the rows of students sat at the table searchingly, only to find that his three friends appeared to be absent.

This seemed odd to say the least, the boy felt, for it was almost impossible to drag Sirius out of bed first thing in the morning in order to eat an earl breakfast, and it was almost more impossible still to drag Peter away from the table once he had started eating, too. The three Marauders ought definitely be in the Great Hall by now...

Spotting another familiar face, however, Remus paused to lean upon the table, looking down at a red-haired girl who was busy spreading a generous dollop of strawberry jam across a slice of toast.

"Hello Lily," the werewolf greeted, pausing to clear his throat when he found his voice sounding unnaturally scratchy. "I don't suppose you've seen James and the others, have you?"

Lily Evans turned to regard him with bright green eyes that hinted at disapproval, something she seemed to do an awful lot whenever anyone uttered the name James Potter within earshot, before returning her attention to her breakfast.

"I expect they're in detention, Remus." the young witch said, taking a generous bite of toast.

"Nobody has detention first thing in the morning, Lily..."

"Don't they?" Lily chewed thoughtfully upon her breakfast before pointing out: "Well if anyone can manage it it'd be Potter and Black."

Remus gave an uncertain almost-laugh, and was just turning to head back out into the Entrance Hall when she said:

"Well aren't you going to have some breakfast?" Before Remus could answer she had reached to push her school satchel off the bench beside her, patting the bench as she suggested: "Come on, sit down!"

"Um..."

"There's still some bacon left if you want some." Lily looked round at him again, any hint of disapproval gone as she offered him a bright smile that left him to slide into the seat beside her without much of a thought. As he eyed the selection of food in consideration, finally opting to reach for a box of cornflakes, Lily asked:

"Are you going to watch the Quidditch on Saturday?"

"I expect so, yes."

"Me too! We could go together, if you like."

Remus frowned down at his bowl as he shook a meagre serving of cereal into the basin.

"Won't...won't Snape be with you?" he asked, failing to not sound entirely unenthusiastic about it, only for Lily to ask:

"Won't Black and Pettigrew be with you?"

"Well yes..." Remus said, his frown deepening, and Lily took a somewhat savage bite of toast that almost made the werewolf wince. After a sizeable pause, Lily confessed:

"Severus won't be with me, if you must know. We've...we've had a...we just...we're not talking."

"Oh..." Remus mumbled, fighting the urge to ask questions. After all the less he asked about Snape the less Lily asked about his own choice of companions...

"Anyway," Lily went on, "I can't turn up to a match between Gryffindor and Slytherin with a Slytherin, can I? Just imagine!"

The two of them sniggered as Remus glanced over towards the Slytherin table, where he spied Snape sat apart from his fellow students, hunched over a plate of scrambled egg on toast. The hook-nosed boy appeared to be staring at him and as he turned back to his breakfast Remus felt as if there were daggers aimed at his back.

"Come on, Remus, let's go together! It'll be fun! Eliza has face paint, I'm going to borrow it...I could make you into a Gryffindor lion!"

"Ha..." Remus said, wondering just how many animals a boy ought be in the space of a few days.

"You don't make it very easy, you know." Lily sighed, dusting crumbs from her fingertips.

"Sorry?"

"Being friends, Remus. You don't make it very easy, we've not spent an afternoon in the library together for weeks!"

"Oh...well..."

"And you're always with Potter and the others. Always!"

"Well you're always with..." Remus had meant to say Snape, but thought better of it, instead settling on: "...people."

Lily sniggered, only for the werewolf to complain:

"And we had a deal, anyway! I won't comment on your choice of friends if you don't comment on mine."

"That's true, I suppose." Lily agreed, and Remus wanted to point out that she rarely kept her end of this bargain, but he rather thought better of it. Instead he took a moment to push some cornflakes half-heartedly around his bowl before concluding:

"Alright then, I'll go with you on Saturday."

Lily positively beamed at him, only for the expression to falter somewhat when he abandoned his spoon and rose to his feet, mumbling:

"I have to...go..."

"You've barely touched your breakfast, Remus."

"I'm...not that hungry..." He tried to shrug off the churning of his stomach that always made breakfast after a full moon an effort to say the least. "Anyway, I need to collect my bag in time for Charms." He shot his friend a marginally bright smile as he turned to head back towards the Entrance Hall, telling her: "See you there, then!"

As he slowly made his way up the marble staircase a minute later, Remus wondered just what his friends would have to say when he informed them that he would not be attending the Quidditch match with them, but with Lily instead. The prospective conversation played through his head several times as he made his way up to Gryffindor Tower, each time more ludicrous and melodramatic than the last, but none of this was anything in comparison to what Remus was about to find himself faced with when he finally traipsed up the spiral staircase towards his dormitory...

Inside he found James, Sirius and Peter all sat upon the ends of their four poster beds in unnerving silence. As Remus stepped into the room, the three boys stared at him.

It was quite possibly the most unsettling scene that Remus had ever walked into in his living memory. For one thing, his friends were usually incapable of being silent for more than half a second each, and for another...

...the silence! Utter silence...

It was the sort of silence that had been going on for some time, Remus could tell. It wasn't the sluggish, awkward silence of a suddenly halted conversation, but the silence of grim expectation...

And the way they were staring...!

Something was wrong. Very, very, very wrong.

Remus made a shuffling beeline for his own bed in a fashion that was not in the least bit casual despite his best efforts. Three pairs of eyes followed his progress...

There was only one thing that could be wrong...there was only ever one thing that could be so very wrong, only one thing that made Remus' heart thud in his chest because nothing else mattered, nothing else was as terrifying and awful as the prospect of...of...

"Hi James." he mumbled as he passed, and James seemingly relaxed a little.

"Hi Remus."

"Morning Sirius...made it out of bed, did you?"

"Yep." Sirius' response was unnaturally lacking in wit, but Remus nevertheless ploughed on bravely with:

"Morning Peter."

Peter let out an odd mumble that did not easily translate into any language Remus knew. As the werewolf felt his face reddening, Sirius asked:

"How's your mum?"

Remus felt his mouth gape open uselessly as a suitable lie failed to instantly materialise upon the tip of his tongue, for he was too consumed by one thought, one awful thought, one terrible, terrifying thought that was about to shatter his entire world...

He could see it. It was written all over their staring faces, he just knew it, he knew it without a doubt and oh Merlin, what was he going to do?! What was he going to say?! What now?! What then?! He was ruined...

"Shut up." James muttered, shooting Sirius a look, only for his gaze to return to Remus within the blink of an eye. Then he said, in a voice so calm that it made Remus want to stare in astonishment straight back at him: "Sit down, Remus, we've got to tell you something."

When Remus failed to move a muscle, Sirius was forced to assure him:

"It's alright, mate. Just sit down, eh?"

Remus didn't move.

"Or you can just...stand, if you want..." Peter mumbled, offering him a shrug, and at this suggestion both Sirius and James stood up too. They took a long, agonising moment to compose themselves. James leant back against a bedpost and fussed needlessly with his hair. Sirius examined his shoes. Eventually James sighed heavily and, after a glance at Sirius, decided:

"You're mum's fine, isn't she Remus? She's not sick. She never has been."

Remus stared dumbly at them.

"We know." Sirius said, shoving his hands almost guiltily into his pockets. "About your mum. About you, I mean."

"We know you're...we know what you are." Peter mumbled, only for James to frown and say:

"That's right, we know what you are. You're a bloody good mate, for starters..."

"Exactly." Sirius and Peter agreed together, only Remus wasn't entirely sure he could hear them.

"...who just so happens to be a...a werewolf." James finished, frowning when he managed to stumble a little over the final words.

"But that's fine with us." Sirius insisted hurriedly as Remus' gaze began to creep somewhat desperately towards the door. "We don't give a toss..."

"Exactly, we don't care, do we?"

"No, we don't."

"It doesn't matter."

"It's irrelevant."

"It's nothing, we couldn't care less."

"Exactly!"

"We don't care about that, we just...care about you, Remus."

The three boys trailed off hopefully, apparently quite pleased with their efforts, only for their encouraging smiles to falter a bit when Peter hissed:

"He's crying!"

Sirius shot Peter a scowl.

"Well that's alright," James insisted hurriedly as Remus too registered the humiliating fact that tears appeared to be streaming down his face, "nothing wrong with...with having a good cry, is there?"

There was everything wrong with it, Remus thought wildly. In fact there was everything wrong with everything. Everything was wrong!

"Are you alright?" Peter asked him, squinting rather fretfully, and Sirius decided:

"I think he needs a moment."

Remus thought he needed more than a moment. He needed a time turner so that he could perhaps persuade himself never to walk into this room or perhaps even never to have come to school in the first place, or...

He was stopped short of wishing he'd never been born when James said:

"Nobody's perfect, Remus."

"Except me."

"Except Sirius, I mean. Honestly, we don't care if...if you've got a...a problem."

"A furry little problem." Sirius suggested helpfully, and James dutifully sighed disapprovingly before failing to suppress a snigger.

"Exactly, you're still Remus aren't you? What could possibly be wrong with that!"

"You're...you're..." Remus managed, struggling to find his voice, and Sirius' expression grew challenging.

"We're what?" he said, as if daring the werewolf to continue.

"You're wrong!"

"I'm never wrong."

"You are! There's...there's everything wrong with...with it, it's...I'm..."

"Well we'll see about that, won't we?" James said, waving a dismissive hand. "Now get your stuff, we're going to be late for Charms!"

And that, Remus discovered, appeared to be that.

The day that followed was so utterly mundane that Remus couldn't take it in. His friends were acting as if nothing Earth shatteringly awful had happened...

Which it had.

They were naïve, all three of them. They were wrong. True realisation could dawn upon them at any moment, Remus was sure of it, and then what? He'd be shunned and alone and his world would be in tatters...

It was it tatters! It was! He didn't know what to do, what to say, how to act! He didn't know what was coming next, what to expect...

He hadn't expected to go from lesson to lesson just as he had done every day before, his friends chattering away like normal, pulling the odd silly prank in Potions or landing themselves in detention after one joke too many in Herbology. The more normal it all seemed the more paranoid Remus felt and by the time they left Herbology and were ready to set off for their common room for the evening, Remus thought he might be suffocating from dreadful anticipation...

He felt detached from reality...

He needed air...

His friends watched him stumble off down the lawn towards the Gamekeepers' hut, pale-faced and seemingly delirious for he ignored their attempts to call after him, their demands to know where he was going...

And James Potter had stared after his friend as Remus Lupin disappeared off into the gathering darkness, before halting his remaining friends' bickering about the werewolf's frame of mind with a raised hand.

"Get a teacher." James muttered as Remus weaved aimlessly across the grass, and Peter said:

"What?"

"Run and get a teacher, Peter!" James demanded, without glancing round, and Peter shot one last worried look at Remus' retreating back before turning to bolt back inside.

And with that James and Sirius set off after their wayward friend, torn between keeping their distance and rushing after him...

Remus didn't know where he was going.

He simply felt the need to...go. Get away. Be elsewhere. Be alone.

Because he didn't know what to do with himself. He felt utterly lost...

And so it was that Remus stumbled numbly under the shelter of the trees of the Forbidden Forest, too consumed by panic and a sense of impending loss to have any real notion of where he was at all.

And James and Sirius reluctantly followed him at a distance, constantly glancing nervously over their shoulders back towards the castle as they found themselves going deeper and deeper into the trees.

The Forbidden Forest was, on the surface at least, a reassuringly calm and quiet place. A cool, soothing breeze blew gently through the gnarled, ancient trees and Remus began to feel calmer, his mind beginning to clear. He found himself unafraid of the dark or the occasional mysterious rustling or distant thud of hooves. People said there were werewolves in the forest, he recalled as he stepped carefully over a large tree root. He ought feel right at home...

James and Sirius did not feel right at home.

"Alright, we've let him wander quite enough!" James was saying, jumping a little at the creaking amidst the trees. "You're right, he's completely lost his marbles..."

"Maybe we've gone about all this in the wrong way." Sirius mused, only to narrowly avoid tripping over a slippery carpet of moss upon the forest floor.

"I don't know!" James complained, one hand gripping the wand in his pocket, his meagre twelve years of life experience leading his insight into their current predicament somewhat lacking. "Was there ever going to be a way of telling him we know the truth that didn't result in him freaking out or...or having some sort of mental breakdown?"

Sirius considered this for a long moment, before confessing:

"I doubt it..."

Suddenly, without quite realising it until it had happened, the two boys stopped dead in their tracks. Some way ahead of them, Remus stopped too.

Fear.

Sudden, ice cold fear.

Remus felt it grip him almost in an instant.

Had he not felt so suddenly paralysed, the young werewolf might have wondered when his mind had suddenly become focused or why in Merlin's name he had wandered out into the forest, of all places, why he hadn't done the sensible thing and sought solitude in a bathroom cubicle or on his bed with the drapes drawn...

He could see his breath forming in puffs of mist before him as the temperature amongst the trees seemed to plummet. Remus shivered.

"Remus!"

There came the crashing of footsteps through undergrowth as James and Sirius bolted to stand either side of him, and Remus heard Sirius hiss:

"There's something out there!"

Wordlessly, the three young boys drew their wands.

A dark, shadowy figure loomed out of the shadows ahead, and Remus felt both James and Sirius edge backwards. When he tried to do so himself he very nearly tripped.

"Run!" Sirius whispered, but the trio remained where they were.

"We wouldn't make it." James whispered back, gripping his wand so desperately tightly that his hand trembled.

"What do we do?"

"I don't know..."

"D'you think Peter might've..."

"I don't know..."

"Bloody brilliant! Look what where you've landed us, Remus..."

"Shut up, Sirius!" James' voice had grown shrill as the figure loomed ever closer.

The three boys cowered.

"What is it?" Sirius hissed, the whisper carried upon a chilly puff of breath, his legs growing increasingly heavy and yet entirely wobbly beneath him.

"I don't know, I don't know!" James exclaimed, both frustrated and terrified at the utter hopelessness that seemed to be thick in the very air around them.

"Well...!"

"Just shut up!"

"It's a Dementor." Remus said, as grim helplessness began to engulf him from head to toe, and his two friends went silent in panic.

The boys had heard of a great number of frightening things that lurked in the Forbidden Forest. Dementors were not one of them.

And yet there were some things that simply could not be mistaken.

No indeed, there was no mistaking a creature as grim and foul as this...

The Dementor drifted forward amidst a fog of despair, a haunting vision straight out of a nightmare, and the three young Gryffindors managed another step backwards, pressed so tightly together that in the middle of them Remus felt as if he were suffocating...

Of course most young wizards had heard of Dementors by the time they reached Hogwarts, they knew plenty of chilling facts and grizzly tales about the guards of Azkaban...

They had never contemplated what one ought do when face to face with one, however.

Or at least most of them hadn't...

Remus' hand, damp with cold sweat and trembling with fear as the ghastly apparition floated ever closer, very nearly let the wand slip from his fingers. Yet he attempted to square his shoulders.

"G...go away!" the werewolf shouted, more a sound to jolt the life back into his bones than anything else.

The Dementor loomed towards them, it's cloak flapping in the breeze.

"I don't think..." Sirius began, only for Remus to shout:

"I said go away! I...I'll make you go! I...I will! I can!"

No you can't, a firm voice inside the boy's head pointed out frankly. You can't do anything. Silly little boy...

"It's going to kill us..." James concluded flatly, one hand reaching to grasp at the back of Remus' robes in a vain attempt to make him see sense...

And the sense of emptiness grew ever stronger until Remus felt as though he might just fall to his knees and weep, and yet something steadied him, something made him draw a deep breath...

Blind faith.

And why not, the boy thought desperately as Sirius' wand clattered uselessly to the forest floor, the dark haired boy reaching to clamp his hands over his eyes, why couldn't he just have faith?

Professor Dumbledore had always insisted that there was a whole lot to be said for a bit of faith.

Faith could make you powerful, if only for a second. Faith could have you rule the world for a single moment...

Faith could see an eleven year old werewolf cast the Patronus Charm without so much as a thought, and perhaps a year later it might see him do the same again and banish a Dementor...

Why not?

There were millions of reasons, Remus knew, and the countless doubts were weighing so heavily on him at that moment in time that he thought he might just stand struck dumb until the Dementor reached him...

And yet...perhaps...

A mere moment of faith...

Remus Lupin raised his wand.

He tried to concentrate on what little he knew about the extraordinary feat of magic he was about to attempt, but he couldn't remember much besides an incantation and as the Dementor reached out a boney hand towards him, gnarled fingertips mere inches away, the boy knew that concentration was almost entirely futile.

He gritted his teeth and half-whimpered:

"E...ex...expecto...e..."

It was no use. James was right. It was going to kill them...or worse! What they did was even worse! It was going to be utter emptiness, a lonely, desolate shell...

He felt James yank him backwards a little out of the creature's grasp, the movement steeled the remains of his already shattered nerves and he managed to blurt:

"Expecto Patronum!"

A feeble puff of silver rose lazily from the tip of his wand, barely enough to make a Dementor blink, if indeed it could do such a thing...

Sirius dropped abruptly to his knees and snatched up his wand as James hopelessly bellowed the useless incantation in some mad hope that something might happen, and before Remus could register his failure and their resulting impending doom he felt himself crumpling to the ground...

He could hear a mad, vicious snarling sound, ripping, tearing, wailing and screaming...

A distant howl.

And as a sudden burst of silver light briefly lit the darkness surrounding him, Remus almost thought he could taste blood in his mouth before the world was gone entirely...