Remus

He wasn't tired at all.

It was two nights before the full moon, and he was beginning to feel the usual telltale restlessness in his limbs, the familiar quickening of his heartbeat.

Left to his own devices, Remus returned to the troubling thoughts that had been bothering him for weeks.

Again, they seemed to just swirl through his brain in a big, soupy mess, without beginning or end.

Did all wizards feel the same as Darius?

As Lyle Lupin?

Were his father's actions really justifiable?

Remus couldn't ignore the fact that his mother had also abandoned him, which had to mean something.

His friends certainly hadn't treated him any differently after finding out, but then how could anyone truly know what their friends thought of them?

The Marauders liked anything dangerous.

Perhaps sharing a room with Remus was simply another exciting risk.

What he really needed was to speak to somebody impartial.

James was so lucky, having two parents always willing to listen.

Sirius was lucky to have James.

Remus wasn't sure if Peter had problems or not.

Probably did.

Probably told James, too.

There was McGonagall.

Remus knew that they were supposed to go to her with their problems.

But she was so stern and difficult, and she liked James best, anyway.