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A Good One (Padfoot)


Peter seemed determined not to fall asleep that night. James and Sirius lay in their beds, listening to him prattle on and on until, finally, he quieted down around nearly midnight. Even then, he continued to lay awake for another hour, pretending to be asleep, obviously somehow aware that the boys were planning to sneak off without him. Finally, though, Sirius heard Peter's breathing level out and fall into a rhythmic pattern of sleep, and Sirius sat up to peek over and be sure there wasn't any stirring in Peter's bed. Satisfied that he'd gone to sleep, Sirius motioned for James to follow him, and the two of them slipped out of bed and scrambled noiselessly down the stairs to the Gryffindor common room, by the fire.

A quick look around the room confirmed they were the only two still awake, everyone else was fast asleep, and the common room was theirs alone. Sirius turned to James eagerly. “I've got it figured out what's going on with Remus, like why he's going missing every month and how come he's so dodgy about it.” James's eyebrows were raised with interest. “I've been thinking on it and – I've got it figured out. James, I just know it for sure.”

James had leaned closer as Sirius's voice lowered toward the end of the sentence. He waited with breath held for Sirius to continue on, but he didn't. The silence dragged on between them. “Are you going to tell me or are you just bragging on about your superior brains?” James asked once the moments had stretched on for what seemed an infinity.

Sirius took a deep breath, “Well. It's just that it's a big - a huge - a serious - accusation to make – and -” He rubbed his face with his palms. “Alright. They've obviously got it all under control somehow. I don't know how, exactly. Dumbledore's in on it, though, so -”

“In on what?” demanded James, interrupting Sirius's rambling.

“Shhh!” Sirius hissed. James had been a bit louder than he'd meant to and they both sat, motionless, peering up at the dormitory doors, half expecting all the other Gryffindors to crash down into the common room around them. But everything remained silent. Sirius inched even closer, lowering his voice even further, until the word he said next came out as but a breath. “He's a werewolf.”

A chill rushed down James's spine at the word. He pulled back, looking at Sirius with wild, disturbed eyes, his nostrils flared. He looked quite unsure how to react and Sirius wondered if he ought not to have told him about what he'd come up with.

James looked even more perplexed, if that was possible.

It was absurd to think about – a good werewolf! Wizard kids grew up trading tales of werewolves on their playgrounds. There had been many a time that Sirius's older cousins – including Lucius Malfoy – had set nightmares into the heads of the youngsters at family get togethers by telling them about werewolves. They'd told tales about old Fenrir Greyback, who was supposedly the most evil werewolf in all the world, with bright fiery-red eyes, who fed on children like they were snackboxes and used their bones to pick his teeth clean of their sinew and veins. Werewolves were what wizard kids feared more than anything else in all the world.

Sirius himself had suffered many nightmares thanks to Lucius's tales, and, judging by the look on James's face, so had he.

The only thing kid wizards might fear more than werewolves would be maybe giants, but the giants hadn't come south of the northern mountains in centuries, making werewolves way more imminent a danger.

“Obviously he's a good ---” Sirius cut himself off before saying the W-word again.

James's voice shook – he was obviously suppressing being scared as he spoke, “Is there – is there such a thing as – as a good… one?” he asked.

Sirius shrugged. “I haven't got a clue if there usually are or not,” he said, “But Remus seems alright… and, like I said, Dumbledore's in on it. Why would Dumbledore help him hide it if he wasn't a good one?”

James shook his head, not sure of an answer. “Good or not, why would Dumbledore bring… one… here, to Hogwarts?”

“Because -” Sirius struggled with an answer, “Because – well, for the same reason that he teaches muggle-borns, I suppose.”

“There's a big difference between a muggle-born and a werewolf, Sirius,” hissed James quickly, under his breath.

“I know that, but if they're good and – and --- Well, like Lily Evans said on the train that day, they're just people – who can't help --” Sirius floundered for a clear line of reasoning.

James was shaking his head. “And what about Remus's father? He's the one that passed the Werewolf Restriction Act, remember? That's exactly why he wouldn't have been allowed to come to the school,” James said.

“Well that was part of what was hanging me up,” admitted Sirius, “But I think it's something like there was a werewolf who was angry at Mr. Lupin for having passed that law, and, as revenge, bit his son and made him a wolf.”

“You've got to be wrong, Sirius. There's gotta be some other explanation for it all. No way can this be true – how'd you even –?”

Sirius leaned forward, “Listen to me James. I'm right, I know it. He goes missing at the full moon. Disappears late evening the day before and stays gone until early morning a day after. Every month. Look.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a paper – notes he'd scribbled along the edge of a page torn from his astronomy book from Professor Zosma's class – the moon chart for the year. He flattened it on the coffee table between them. “See here? He went missing before our first Defense Against the Dark Arts class of the term, remember? That first weekend here? Full moon.” Sirius jabbed his finger at the page. “And then he disappeared about a month later, that first week of October. That's the weekend Andy Turin, that Ravenclaw, got clobbered at Quidditch try outs and we saw him up at the hospital wing trying to find Remus, remember? Full moon. And the day after Halloween? Full moon. First of December! Full moon! Now - right now, James – look out the window.”

James's eyes traveled to the windows. Sure enough, through it, he could see the full moon glowing blue-white and pale over the Forbidden Forest.

“Mark my words,” Sirius murmured as James stared out the window, “Remus will be back tomorrow at breakfast. What's more is he'll disappear again come 'round about the 29th.” He pressed a finger at the dates on the moon cycle chart from Zosma's class.

The evidence was certainly stacked and James couldn't come up with a single bit of substantial proof against it. Sirius might actually be right, he thought with a shiver. “Blimey,” he whispered.

“I know,” Sirius said.

“But a werewolf,” whispered James. “Blimey.”

“How should we tell him we know?” Sirius asked at exactly the same time that James asked, “How do we keep him from finding out we know?”

James's eyes widened. “You want to tell him?” he asked, perplexed. “Are you mad? Tell a werewolf we know he's a werewolf when the very last thing said werewolf wants anyone to know is that he's a werewolf?”

“Well he's still our mate,” Sirius said with a shrug, “Nothing's changed that way, has it? Not really...” He frowned. “And I think Remus could use knowing we're there for him. It's got to be awfully lonely keeping a secret like that. We gotta show him he can trust us, that we're not gonna tell his secret to anybody else, so he can talk to us about it. I think it'll help him out.”

James nodded slowly, “Yeah,” he said, “Yeah, that makes sense.”

“So how do we tell him?” Sirius asked.

James thought hard for a moment, then shook his head, “I dunno.”

“Me either.”

“Maybe we need to just wait for the right moment to come up and then we will, when the time's right and all,” James suggested.

“Alright, then,” agreed Sirius, nodding. “That's what we'll do, then.”