Padfoot's Perspective Final Chapter Secrets Revealed

The next morning:

Snape and I were staring each other down in a deserted corridor with our wands out, though they had not yet been used.

"Do you travel a lot?" I asked him.

He looked at me with disgust that I had spoken, mingled with puzzlement at the question. "No. Why?"

"Well, they say that travel broadens one, and by the size of your nose I figured you traveled often," I replied, grinning maliciously.

"And you are good-looking?" spat the Slytherin.

"Yep," I nonchalantly responded. Actually, I never thought about my appearance, James was the vain one of the Marauders.

"You're as pretty as a picture and it would be my pleasure to hang you," Snape remarked snidely.

Fortunately, I had frequent insult fights with my little arse of a brother, Regulus, so I easily thought of a retort. "You always speak your mind, don't you? It's because you have nothing to lose."

"Rictusempra!" Snape cried. He seemed weary of our exchange of insults and wanted to skip right to a duel.

That's fine with me. I dodged the curse and said, "Tarantallegra!" I laughed as his legs twisted this way and that.

Randomly, a bodiless voice requested, "Get up, Sirius." An invisible hand nudged me lightly.

Confused, I yelled at the air, "I am standing up!"

Then I felt a hard push out of nowhere. "Wake up, mate, or we'll be late," a second voice insisted. Is that James? Am I asleep? As I thought this I blinked my eyes and found myself no longer gazing at a hexed Snape, but a disgruntled Peter and James.

"Oh, I guess I was dreaming," I muttered, disappointed that Snape's legs really were not tangled together.

"Never mind; just get your arse out of bed before we miss breakfast," volunteered James.

I tossed my pillow at him, which he snatched out of the air easily with the Quiditch reflexes that he justly vaunted about, and donned my Hogwarts unifourm. I hastily ran a comb through my hair.

Peter glanced at James' unruly locks. "Why don't you ever comb your hair?"

"It never makes a difference." James shrugged. "Besides, I like it messy."

"All right, let's go," I said. Then I noticed something. "Where's Remus?"

The smallest boy supplied the information: "He never came back from Hagrid's"

James commented, frowning, "He's always disappearing, and it worries me."

"Me too," I replied. "It seems to be a monthly thing."

"It's the full moon; it does stuff to people," said Peter jokingly.

"What did you say?" James sharply inquired.

"J-just that the f-full moon effects thing, and l-last night was a full m-moon," stammered Peter. "Did I s-say something wrong?" It was like he expected James to strike him. Peter had a tendency of getting rather nervous. We were used to it, though.

"No, not at all," responded James, running a frustrated hand through his hair as if he were thinking hard.

I failed to see the connection. "The fullness of the moon effects ocean tides, not people."

James was quiet for a moment, which was unusual for him. I could discern he was still contemplating. Eventually, he stated, "I don't think Remus is a person. He's a werewolf."

I gasped, "You're right, James. I mean he eats and sleeps as much as the rest of us, yet he's weak and tired-looking most of the time."

"What are we going to do?" Peter exclaimed.

James cast him a strange look. "What do you mean?"

"Well, we can't hang around a werewolf, can we? They're dangerous."

I felt hot anger course through my body. "HOW CAN YOU SAY THAT?!"

Peter backed up against the wall cowering.

If I had thought about it, I would not have continued to yell and just have spoken calmly instead, but my temper invariably gets the better of me. "REMUS IS OUR FRIEND! THE FACT THAT HE IS A WEREWOLF DOESN'T CHANGE WHO HE IS!"

"You can sever ties with him if you wish, however, if you tell anyone his secret you'll regret it," James warned in a tone of controlled rage.

Peter swallowed nervously. "No, you lot are right; he's still Remus. I can't believe I considered shunning him."

"We better go find Remus and let him know we accept him the way he is. He probably didn't tell us because he thought we'd Peter," said James. A minute of awkward silence followed.

I broke it. "He's most likely in the Hospital Wing. C'mon." We would miss breakfast, but I didn't care.

James and Peter followed me until we got there and the young Madame Pomfrey greeted us.

"What are you three doing here?" she demanded.

"We want to see Remus," answered James.

She raised a curious eyebrow. "You know he's here?"

We nodded.

"Well, Mr. Lupin needs his rest. You may see him when he is feeling better."

"It's okay, Madame Pomfrey," called Remus' hoarse voice from within.

She hesitated. "I'm not sure-"

"We need to speak to him," I stated, putting on a pleading expression that few adults could resist.

"All right, I'll give you five minutes," she grumbled.

I mentally congratulated myself as I walked with the other two Marauders to the end of the ward and saw Remus lying in a bed with a large bandage wrapped around his right arm and a fresh cut on his forehead. He looked extremely pale and much older than his eleven years. Poor Remus. He must be really strong to be able to take it. I can't believe I thought he was weak; he's the strongest person I've ever known.

Peter unsuccessfully attempted to choke back an anxious gasp at Remus' appearance.

I would have hit him lightly on the back of the head if James had not shot him a death glare first.

"How'd you get hurt, Rem?" I asked casually.

"I, er, fell," he murmured.

"You're not telling the truth," I accused.

"Why would I lie to you?"

I wanted Remus to admit his condition to us openly, though James was blunt; therefore he stated calmly, "We know that you're a werewolf."

Remus stared at his hands. "Oh," was all he said.

James continued, "We don't mind, you know."

Remus answered sadly, "Yes, you do, and I can hardly blame you. I knew this would happen."

"Really, Remus, we don't," I assured him, sitting down on the bed. "We'll always be your friends."

Peter spoke up. "We wouldn't be the Marauders without our polite bookworm."

I felt a rush of warmth towards Peter because his comment made Remus smile.

"So, is there anyway we could help you through your transformations?" James questioned Remus.

He shook his head. "I can't be near humans when I;m in wolf form." We must have looked as crestfallen as we felt that we could not assist him because he added consolingly, "It helps that I won't have to lie to you anymore. I hated feeling guilty all the time."

"That's great, mate, but I still wish we could do more," muttered James. Remus leaned up, wincing slightly as he did so, and gave James a hug with his uninjured arm.

I began cracking up and my comrades stared at me, so I explained the cause of my outburst. "Remus is comforting us. It should be the other way around."

They realised the humour in this and chuckled as well.

"I don't need to be comforted, Inigo. I can handle it," promised Remus.

"Yeah, but you shouldn't have to deal with it alone just because you can," I told him, smiling at the name he had just called me.

"You can't come with me. You're humans, and I'd hurt you."

"That means animals could accompany you?" asked James thoughtfully.

"I guess." Remus started to shrug; then cringed and stopped. "What are you going to do? Buy me a pet?"

"What if we were animals?" I suggested.

Peter gaped at me like I was insane, which I suppose I was. "No offense, but I'm kind of partial to being a human."

I turned to Peter. "I mean, what if we could change into animals and change back again?"

James grinned, understanding me before the others like a best mate ought to. "Like an animagus!"

Remus reminded us, "You have to be an adult to be qualified to learn how to become an animagus, and next you need to register. Otherwise it's illegal."

"Rules are meant to be broken," I responded.

The little lycanthrope appeared unconvinced.

"Listen, Rem, we're going to be animaguses and come with you whether you like it or not," stated James matter-of-factly.

"You are going to become animagi," Remus corrected.

"Oh, so you agree," I remarked.

Remus looked at the three of us and smiled. Very quietly, as if to himself, he said, "I have wonderful friends."

"OUT!" screeched Madame Pomfrey.

Minerva's Note: The end! Some people believe they found out Remus' condition during second year, however, the books never clarify, ergo I can say it occurred whenever I want to. This story could also taken as a prequel to Marauders and McGonagalls, though I wrote it as a prequel to my hilarious fic, Legacy of the Marauders.