SIRIUS BLACK'S POV
It was a quiet evening in the Gryffindor common room, the kind where the fire crackled lazily and most of the students had drifted off to their dormitories. James, Peter, and I had staked out our usual corner sprawled across the armchairs, half-buried under a pile of Chocolate Frog wrappers and abandoned textbooks.
Peter was nodding off, quill slipping from his ink-stained fingers. James was tossing a Snitch he'd snuck out of the Quidditch trunk, catching it with effortless precision every few seconds, eyes tracking its flickering golden wings. I was lounging sideways in my chair, boots up on the armrest, flicking through a dog-eared copy of Curses and Counter-Curses purely out of boredom.
That's when James suddenly said, without looking away from the Snitch, "Remus is gone again."
I didn't even lift my head. "Yeah," I said lazily. "He's either missing or sick at least once a month. Especially around the full moon."
There was a pause a small, almost imperceptible silence and I looked up to see James staring at me, his Snitch forgotten in mid-air, hovering between his hands.
His eyes had gone wide.
"What?" I asked, raising a brow.
He leaned forward, lowering his voice. "What did you say?"
"I said he's sick every month. Around the full moon." I tilted my head. "What? You didn't notice?"
Peter stirred, blinking awake. "Wait… what are you talking about?"
James dropped the Snitch, and it zoomed off toward the fireplace. He didn't even flinch. His gaze was still fixed on me, burning now with realization.
"He disappears… always the same time. Says he's ill. Madam Pomfrey takes him somewhere," James muttered. "Always just before the full moon."
My heart gave a strange little kick. I straightened in my seat. "And he's always pale when he comes back," I said slowly, piecing it together now. "Like he's been through something bloody awful. Half the time he's limping. One time he had a scar across his neck."
Peter frowned. "You think…?"
James didn't finish the thought. He stood up abruptly and marched to the window, throwing it open. The moon was high and heavy, just a day or two from being full. Its light bathed his face in silver.
He turned back to us.
"He's a werewolf."
The words dropped like a stone.
Peter's mouth fell open. "What? No. No, he's not! He's Remus!"
I stood up too, a knot forming in my chest. "Think about it. The timing, the absences, the wounds, the way Madam Pomfrey escorts him out of the castle."
James was pacing now. "And the Shrieking Shack. They say it's haunted, right? But no one's ever seen anything inside. What if it's not haunted what if that's where Dumbledore sends him to transform?"
Peter looked between us, uncertain. "But why wouldn't he tell us?"
"Because he's scared," I said quietly. "Scared we'd be afraid of him. Scared we wouldn't want to be his friends anymore."
James stopped pacing. "That's rubbish."
"Of course it's rubbish," I agreed . "Remus is one of us. He's still Remus."
We all stood in silence for a long moment, the realization heavy but not horrifying just sad. And strangely… galvanizing.
Peter was the first to speak again, voice small. "So… what do we do?"
I looked at James.
He looked at me.
And in the same breath, we both said, "We help him."
Peter blinked. "How?"
I didn't hesitate.
"I read about becoming an Animagus."
James turned toward me, brows raised. "You what?"
I grinned. "McGonagall transformed in class, remember? Into that tabby cat with the glasses. I asked her afterward what it was like, and she said it was advanced, but not impossible. So I did some digging. Found a book in the Restricted Section."
Peter's mouth fell open again. "You're mad."
"Maybe," I said, "but think about it. Werewolves don't attack animals the same way they do humans. If we were animals, we could be with him when he transforms. Keep him company. Keep him safe."
James stared at me for a long second, then grinned that slow, mischievous grin that meant he was in.
"You're a genius," he said.
Peter looked far less enthusiastic. "Do you know how hard that is? It takes years! And it's dangerous!"
James clapped him on the back. "We've got time."
"And brains," I added.
"Debatable," Peter muttered.
We let the matter sit for a few days after that not because we doubted ourselves, but because we knew we needed to be smart about it. And we needed to talk to Remus.
It wasn't until two weeks later that we found the right moment.
He'd just come back from another disappearance. It had been a full moon two nights ago. He looked worse than usual pale, gaunt, his robes hanging looser on his thin frame. There were new scratches on his hands. The kind you didn't get from tripping over a tree root.
We found him alone in the library, tucked away at a table behind a stack of books on Arithmancy.
He looked up when we approached, eyes wary. "Hey."
James sat across from him. I flanked his right. Peter hovered by his left shoulder, unusually quiet.
Remus's smile was faint. "What's this, then? An intervention?"
I leaned in, resting my elbows on the table.
"We know," I said quietly.
His brow furrowed. "Know what?"
"The full moons. The scars. The disappearances." James's voice was calm but firm. "You're a werewolf."
Remus froze. For a long time, he didn't speak. His hands slowly closed around the edges of the book in front of him. He didn't look at any of us.
"I…" he swallowed. "How long have you known?"
"A few weeks," I said. "We pieced it together."
He nodded slowly, eyes still lowered.
"Are you going to tell others ?" he asked, and there was something in his voice a small, bitter resignation.
James leaned forward. "Why would we do that?"
That got him to look up. His eyes were wide. "Because I'm dangerous. I'm not supposed to be here."
"You're our friend," I said simply.
"We don't care what you are," James added.
"But I do!" Remus hissed, his voice breaking. "You don't understand what it's like. Every month I turn into a monster. I could hurt someone. I will hurt someone."
"That's why we're going to help," I said.
Remus blinked. "Help… how?"
I looked at James. He grinned.
"We're going to become Animagi."
Remus stared at us like we'd gone mad. Which, to be fair, we probably had.
"You're joking."
"Nope," said James, already pulling a crumpled page from his pocket. "We've started researching. It's going to take a while, but once we manage it, we'll be able to keep you company. Make sure you're safe."
"You're serious," Remus whispered.
"I'm Sirius," I said automatically.
James groaned. "Merlin, not again."
Remus stared down at the table, shaking his head slowly. "You don't understand what that means. How much work it is. How dangerous it could be."
James just smiled. "Then you'll have to trust us."
Remus looked at each of us in turn. Peter looked nervous but gave him a tentative thumbs-up. I nodded. James leaned back in his chair, looking pleased with himself.
Finally, Remus let out a long breath.
"You lot are mad."
"Probably," I agreed.
"But I've never had friends like you."
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