If you were to ask a 13 year old Remus Lupin what the worst week of his life was, he'd probably tell you that it was the week his friends found out he was a werewolf.

Sure, he could laugh about it now, but then, those seven days dragged into a hopeless abyss during which he'd thought, for sure, that things were over, that he would be shunned from the marauders.

It had been so stupid, too, and a million ridiculous things had fallen into place in such an unlucky fashion that night. The captain of the quidditch team that year had been a sixth year, meaning they'd continue to be captain the following year. To James, this meant sucking up to them. To the quidditch captain, this meant that they'd finally found someone to take care of their younger brother's bad grades. In short, James had been offered a position on the team as a chaser in exchange for completing the captain's brother's defense against the dark arts homework so that he had more time for quidditch practice. This brother just happened to be only one year older than them, meaning he was in third year. And third year meant the curriculum revolved around dark creatures.

And that was how Remus found himself sweating and shaking and feeling quite nauseous as he sat with his friends in front of the fire in the Gryffindor common room as James wrote a 12-inch essay on werewolves.

He had never seen so many books on the creatures, not even when he was young and had first been bitten and they were all his parents would read. There was a whole shelf in their house (the dustiest shelf in their house, he might add) dedicated to the books.

But James really wanted that position on the team.

"This is really interesting," James says suddenly, his hazel eyes shining a bit. "I can't wait for next year."

"What does it say?" Sirius asks casually. He is tossing James' snitch around from his spot curled up on the arm chair.

"Just the idea. I didn't know anything about them before."

"Yeah? Let's hear."

Remus wonders if he's done something to incur the wrath of the gods, but he cannot think of anything, except maybe taking the last helping of pudding at dinner before a first year could get to it.

"Apparently they like the taste of human flesh," James says. His nose wrinkled in disgust at the thought. "And they'd do anything for it, kill anyone for it. Even someone who's normally their best friend."

Remus' hand is shaking so bad that he is having trouble writing his essay on swelling solution.

"And they can still affect people they attack when it's not a full moon. They're more aggressive than humans, you see," James says, matter-of-factly now, as if he's been studying werewolves for a while now and knows all there is to know. "They're very dangerous. Remember those pamphlets they gave us in DADA a few weeks ago? With tips on how to stay safe? They said to stay inside on nights of full moons." He pauses to jot down a sentence thoughtfully. "There are werewolves on you-know-who's side. What was his name? Greyback?"

"I think so," Peter says.

James shudders. "Nasty things. I didn't take it seriously before, but after reading all of this..."

Remus feels quite faint. He thinks he may pass out at any moment. His essay's not going to make sense, that's for sure.

"When are the full moons? We have to make sure not to sneak out on those nights." He reaches for a book on his right and flips through it. "Was the 18th in January," he says. He looks like he is thinking quite hard. "Hmm. I don't remember."

"No, we stayed in," Sirius says, sounding rather bored. "Remus wasn't here, remember? Was visiting with his ill grandmother."

Fuck, is all Remus can think, and he feels if there was ever a time to curse, it is now. His face feels very warm. He tries to memorize the feeling of sitting with his friends in front of the warm fire.

"The 17th in February," he says. "It was a Saturday."

Sirius thinks for a minute. "No, remember, that was the Honeydukes trip that everyone went on to celebrate Valentine's day, and it was quiet all day in the common room, so I said we should stay in and enjoy it, because Remus would've, but he couldn't because he had been sick and had to go to St. Mungo's."

"Oh, yes," James said. He paused for a second, his eyes lingering on Remus. "Then the 19th," He says. "Just a few days ago."

Sirius grins. "We got wasted."

"Right," James says, almost wistfully. "While Remus wasn't here to yell at us. Said he'd gone home because his parents wanted to celebrate his birthday that night."

There was an awkward tension. Remus refused to look up from his essay, which was getting worse by the minute.

"And do we have any plans for April 17th?"

"We were going to sneak out to the Three Broomsticks, actually," Peter chimes in now. "For my birthday. But Remus had... his aunt's wedding, right, Remus?"

Remus does not trust his voice at the moment, so he just nods.

There is again a silence, which James breaks by saying, "Hey, Pete, do you think you still have that pamphlet in your bag?"

There is three minutes of ruffling. Remus thinks it is his last three minutes of being a Marauder. His cheeks are burning, and he feels tears beginning to well in his eyes. He simply jots down another sentence on the role of bat spleen in the potion.

"How to tell if someone is a werewolf," James reads, now holding the pamphlet. "One. Werewolves will... hmm," he says, skimming the text as he goes. "Three," he says instead, seeming to prefer this one. "The person in question has many scars of an unknown or suspicious nature." His eyes skim Remus. It takes everything in the boy being watched to hold his tears in. They are heavy now, burning in his eyes, begging to fall. "Four," he reads now sounding a bit off, "They make excuses as to why they cannot do things on the nights of full moons." James worries at his thumbnail nervously now. "Five, they like their meat very raw." He looks up at Remus. "Five in a row."

"Hmm?" Remus asks, trying desperately to feign innocence."

"Five moons."

"Bad coincidence," he says, but he is sure it would never convince anyone.

"Are you...?"

"Can we talk about this somewhere else?" he says finally, looking up. The common room is quite quiet, but this is not because everyone is listening. They're the only ones around. His friends don't seem to notice this, however, as their wide eyes lock on him, unmoving.

"I'm sorry," he says, reaching up as one of the tears now slides down his cheek. He tries to catch it subtly with the sleeve of his jumper. "I..."

"You're...?"

"I should've given you the choice," he says. It is now a sob that he is trying so hard to repress. "If you wanted to be friends with a monster or not."

"So it's true?"

Remus nods hesitantly.

"Well, then," James says, sitting back, looking like he's never been so surprised. Peter and Sirius have both been still, but now Sirius gets up, brushing roughly past Remus and out of the common room.

"I don't mind," James says. "Can't be sure about that one."

"You... you don't mind?" Remus asks incredulously.

"Nah. Did you just get bitten last night?"

"...No," Remus says, unsure of the point of the question.

"Then it doesn't change anything. It's the same as ever."

Remus' heart soars at this. "So you're... you're not going to tell anyone?"

"Me?" He asks. "Merlin, no."

Remus' eyes move to the door.

"He's being a git as always," James reassures him. "He'll get over it."

Remus is unsure. He watches for a minute, but Sirius does not come back. Instead, finally, he turns his attention to Peter, who he sends a small smile.

"Okay?" he asks him.

"Yeah," he answers. His voice is a bit squeakier than normal, but he had not, after all, stormed out of the common room like a certain other temperamental friend of his.

And thus began the worst week of Remus' 13 year old life. Sirius would not talk to him, would not go near him. James and Peter were forced to pick sides, to choose who to sit next to in lessons, at the great hall, in the common room- it felt to Remus like they were playing tug of war, but there was no rope. He never thought that he would see the day where he missed Sirius/serious jokes, where he missed Sirius' flirting with McGonagall or when he'd get drunk off his ass and Remus would have to take care of him, but here were seven long ones, each one killing him slowly from the inside out. He'd always known they'd find out, really, he just was hoping it'd be later, that he could put it off, and he was hoping against all odds that they would understand, and then James and Peter did.

But Sirius, it seemed, did not.

"Bloody fuck, Sirius, what's your problem?" James finally draws the courage to say one Friday night. Sirius is reading- reading- by the fireplace in the common room. Sirius has barely spoken, as far as Remus knows, in the past week.

He gets no answer.

"So he's a bloody werewolf," James says. "Cor, Sirius, he's still just Remus every other day."

"That's not it," Sirius says uneasily.

"What?"

"That's not it," he repeats again. He glances over at James nervously. "It's not that."

"Then what?"

"I don't mind," Sirius says, and Remus feels his face heat up.

"Don't mind?" James asks. The tips of his ears begin to turn red from anger. "Are you fucking joking? You haven't talked to him or gone anywhere near him since you found out!"

Sirius looks up at James now, his eyes burning with... Remus sees a film of vulnerability, actually. "You really think it's because I'm afraid?"

"Well, what would you think? What other reason could there possibly be?"

"I'm mad," he says quietly before going back to his book.

James rips the book out of his hands and throws it down to the floor. "Mad? We all bloody knew you were mad, Sirius, that's no reason to stop talking to him."

"Angry," Sirius says, his face heating up as well now. Remus feels a bit bad for Peter, who is just sitting on the floor next to the chair he's sitting in, his face frozen as he watches, confused.

"Are you taking the piss? What the hell do you have to be angry about?"

He mumbles unintelligibly.

"Sirius Orion Black," James says sternly. "I will toss your transfiguration essay in the fire if you don't explain yourself.

"It's just... he could've told us," Sirius says, his face burning red.

"You've got to be kidding."

"No," he says, looking back up at James. "I thought we were supposed to tell each other everything and he didn't even trust us to not... not tell anyone if we were to find out? Or to not freak out?"

"It's not something that everyone would have accepted," James says.

"Yeah, maybe some Slytherin twats would've flipped out, but we're his best friends."

Remus feels more like he is watching a TV show than sitting with his friends.

"It's not like you tell him everything either," James says. "And it's much stupider stuff as well." He turns to Remus. "Do you know why he didn't go home over Christmas?"

Remus shakes his head slowly.

"What a tosser," James says, settling back down on the couch next to Remus.

Sirius' eyes turn to Remus now. They just look at each other for a minute. Remus is really afraid that he's going to cry.

"I'm sorry," Sirius says softly.

Remus just nods. He doesn't think he'd be able to talk. His throat is thick with the effort of holding in tears.

Sirius is not okay with this, though, as he gets up, stepping over his book on the ground. He squeezes between James and Remus and wraps his arms around his friend. Remus can't help it now, reaching up to wipe a tear away just as it falls. James grins at him.

"I'm sorry," he repeats.

"I just... I thought you hated me," he says, his voice betraying him as it cracks twice. "I thought..."

"Hell, are you crying?" Sirius pulls away grinning. Remus tries to smile back. "No wonder we didn't suspect you were a werewolf."

"Too soon," James says wisely.

"It's okay," Remus says, grinning as well now.

"Are you sure?" Sirius asks softly. He has never seen Sirius be this sensitive before. Sirius has always been the tornado that whips through people's lives, leaving wreckage in his wake.

"Yes," Remus insists. "It's okay."

"So you've been lying to us about where you've been going for over a year and a half now?"

Remus nods, blushing.

"Bloody hell. I thought you were a terrible liar. So your aunt's not getting married?"

Remus plays with a loose string on the sleeve of his jumper. "No," he says finally. "She is."

"Oh. But you can't go because of-"

"She did it on purpose though," he says, forcing a fake smile onto his lips. "Put the wedding on a full moon. Who would want a werewolf at their wedding? And it's a good way to keep me from going."

Sirius' arms are around him again before he knows what's happening. "It's okay," he tells him. "My whole family's a bunch of bloody morons too. No one needs them."

Remus slowly finds his arms winding around Sirius as well. "Is that why you didn't go home over Christmas?"

Sirius pulls away now, looking a bit uncomfortable. It is, however, nothing compared to how Remus felt in front of the fire that night. "They're a bunch of blood purists. Not like James' family. They're normal. My family's a bunch of nutters. Want to get kill every Muggleborn."

"That's horrible."

"No kidding," he says. "I think it's all a bunch of bullshit. Then again, that's why I'm in Gryffindor, not Slytherin, huh? My dear parents don't exactly like that."

"I'm sorry," Remus says softly. "At least my parents are supportive."

"I'm really glad," Sirius tells him.

James sniffles. They look over at him. He's pretending to wipe his eyes. "That was beautiful," he says. "I'm not going to call you poofs this time, but if it happens again..."

"Poofs are guys who kiss each other," Sirius says, now leaning on Remus' side. "Not hug their best friend when they find out he's a werewolf. Do you remember kissing me, Remus?"

"Can't say I do."

"Well then. Seems pretty conclusive."

"Shut up," James says. "Go back to your book. Too many emotional things tonight."

Sirius just smiles. "I think I'll stay here, actually." He stretches his legs into James' lap. "Could you pass me my book, Pete?"

"Sure," he says, reaching for it and handing it to Sirius.

"Mmh. Nice night by the fire."

Remus knows he should be annoyed, but instead he laughs, because they don't care that he's a werewolf. He never thought that he would know what it is like, for you friends to see the worst of you and love you either way, but now he does, and nothing has ever felt better.

This was short and one of the first wolfstar-centric Marauder fics I've ever written. It's been hanging around on my hard drive for about 5 or 6 months now, so I figured I'd post it.

Please review. Nothing makes me happier than feedback, negative or positive (thought preferably negative- that's how you improve, isn't it?). If I didn't want it, I wouldn't post it. Anything at all you have to say!

Also I have a couple other one-shots up. Check them out if you'd like! I don't really know anyone in this fandom (especially people who ship wolfstar) and it makes me a bit uncomfortable so it'd be nice to get to know some people :)