October was fast becoming blustery and cold. Gone were the mild, sunny days that could be spent lounging by the shore of the Black Lake or playing a pick-up game of Quidditch on the grounds. Now, the sky was perpetually overcast, and the wind was sharp and tinged with an arctic chill.

Cassie decided to brave the weather anyway and make her way to the Quidditch Pitch after an early Saturday morning breakfast, bundled in her warmest sweater and jumper and carrying two thermoses of coffee.

The wind tugged at her hair, throwing it across her face as she walked the well-tread path to the pitch. In the distance, smoke rose from the chimney of Hagrid's hut near the edge of the Forbidden Forest. She could even hear the trees bordering the forest groaning with the force of the gusts, their leaves hissing against each other like a great serpent. A shudder went down Cassie's spine as she recalled another great serpent she had encountered in that forest only a few months ago – the Animagus of Salazar Slytherin himself.

The memory propelled her feet faster until she had reached the pitch and settled in the lower stands. The thermoses in her hands were the only things keeping her warm, and she tucked them in closer to her body, surveying the empty stands before watching the seven people on broomsticks flying above her.

The Gryffindor team practiced for a few more minutes before Wood called it a day. The players drifted down to the field and dismounted their brooms. While the other five headed for the changing rooms, two figures peeled off from the group and started for the stands; Cassie went down to meet them.

Despite the temperature, James and Sirius were both sweating, their faces red from exertion and windburn. Down on the field, the wind wasn't so bad, but Cassie was still loath to relinquish the warm thermoses as she handed them to the two boys.

"Black for Sirius, just like his name," she said, passing a thermos to Sirius.

"And my soul," he said, raising his thermos in a toast before taking a large gulp.

Cassie held out the other to James. "For you."

He took off the lid and gave the coffee an experimental sniff. His black hair was even messier than usual, sweeping across his forehead in a wave, with odd pieces sticking up here and there.

"Did you make it right?" he asked her, suspicious.

"Two sugar cubes and a dash of milk, like always," she replied.

He took a sip and nodded in approval. She rolled her eyes.

"What's up, Cass?" Sirius said. He leaned against his broomstick and ran a hand through his perfectly tousled hair. Cassie was tempted to reach out and touch it, but she reined herself in, knowing James would make fun of her for the rest of the day if she did. "It's rare to see you come out and watch us practice, especially on a shit day like this."

"I needed to talk to the both of you. Privately." She crossed her arms and scuffed her shoe on the grass. "It's about Remus. And...Snape."

The two boys were instantly on their guard.

"What happened?" James demanded. "What did Snivellus do?"

"He just...said something to me last week during Potions. It's been bothering me ever since."

"What did he say?" Sirius stared at her, intent.

"That I'm not the only one who has monsters for friends?" She lifted her shoulders in a helpless gesture. "But that could mean anything, right? He could just be talking about the both of you."

"But you don't think so," James said.

She bit her lip. "Do you think he knows about Remus?"

James and Sirius shared a glance that she couldn't decipher.

"We've hid it for years," James said. "He shouldn't."

Sirius scowled. "But Snivellus has always been good about sticking his ugly nose in our business."

James frowned and turned back to her. "Have you told Remus about this?"

She shook her head. "I didn't want to worry him. You're the only ones I've told. I haven't had a chance to tell Peter yet."

"Don't worry, we'll tell him," he said. "Was that the only thing Snape said to you?"

She wanted to tell them about Avery. She should. But shame clamped down on her tongue and held it there. All she could do was shake her head again.

"Are you going to tell Remus, too?" she asked instead.

James and Sirius swapped another glance before they shook their heads.

"Nah," James said. "You're right. There's no use in worrying him. His hair's about to fall out in clumps anyway from all this homework we've been getting. But you're seeing him today, aren't you?"

"Yeah. Right about..." She checked the watch that Alice had loaned her, since she was too lazy to buy one for herself. "Now, actually." She sighed. "Wish me luck."

"Have fun with your first Animagi lesson," James said with a wicked grin. "It's bound to be a treat."

"If you don't come back with a tail, I'll be severely disappointed," Sirius said, his eyes glinting mischievously.

"See, this is why I asked Remus to help me. Not you two, not Peter. I don't need you lot taking the piss out of me while I'm trying to learn." She frowned. "And I'm not anywhere near ready to start transforming yet. I'm still working on the theory."

"It'd go a lot faster with us as your teachers." Sirius waggled his eyebrows at her.

She stared back, unimpressed. "You only want to teach me because you'd get to see me naked."

"Can't blame a man for trying." Sirius shrugged. "Isn't that right, Prongs?"

James sniffed. "I can get my own girl, Padfoot. I don't need you to share."

Sirius arched a brow. "And when's the last time you got a girl? Hopelessly pining after Evans doesn't count, by the way."

He scowled. "So maybe I haven't quite got there yet this term. But trust me; when I want a bird, I'll have one."

"Whatever you say, mate." Sirius clapped him on the shoulder before turning back to Cassie. "You should probably get going. Don't want to keep Remus waiting; you know how he gets."

"True." Cassie kissed him briefly while James pretended to retch in the grass. "I'll see you at lunch."

They waved good-bye as she strolled in the opposite direction of the castle, crossing the bleak grounds toward the Whomping Willow.

Hoping she wouldn't be clobbered to death, she pulled out her wand and muttered, "Immobulus."

xx

"I can't believe you wanted to meet here, of all places."

Remus looked up when she emerged from the mouth of the Whomping Willow's tunnel and moved to help her enter. She accepted his hand and hauled herself out of the tunnel, extinguishing the light from her wand with "Nox" and stowing it away.

Remus grinned at her as she straightened in the dim light of the Shrieking Shack and brushed the dirt from her clothes. "What? It's quiet, secluded, and has everything we need to practice illegal magic."

"Technically, becoming an Animagus isn't illegal," she pointed out.

He shrugged. "True. But being an unregistered one is. And since you're actively conspiring to not be registered, then technically we're still breaking the law."

She rolled her eyes. "Why don't you go work on the Wizengamot, if you're so versed in magical law? Maybe they'll give you my father's old seat. And don't look at me like that," she said when his gaze turned concerned. "I'm perfectly capable of talking about my parents without being reduced to a puddle, thank you very much."

He held up his hands in defense. "All right, whatever you say. Let's just get to it, then."

She gave him a curt nod and moved to sit in one of the chairs at the dining table that he'd vacated. He returned to his own seat and brought out the stack of books she'd checked out of the library, placing them on the table between them.

"You cleaned," she said, surprised. She ran a finger over the table's surface. It came up clean. The last time she had been in the shack, dust and grime had settled over everything in a fine coat. Even the old chandelier above them was devoid of any cobwebs, the candles burning brightly and bathing them in heat.

Despite the lack of dust and dirt, the cleanliness did nothing to hide the shabbiness of the shack. In fact, it made it look even more derelict. The wallpaper was yellowed and peeled, stained from water and weather, and the wooden floors were chipped and cracked. If she looked hard enough, she could see the gouges in the floor and the teeth-marks on the door frames, left there by sharp claws and fangs, and she knew that if she ventured further, she would find shattered windows and broken furniture. Evidence of what happened to the mild-mannered, good-natured boy across from her at every full moon.

He gave her a half-smile. "I tried to make it more inviting. Less...haunted."

"Well, thank you. I appreciate the effort." She nodded to the stack of books. "So, what's our first lesson, Professor Lupin?"

He rolled his eyes at her, though the attempt was half-hearted. Despite appearances, he looked secretly pleased. "Our first lesson, Miss Princess, is getting in touch with your inner self."

She made a face at him, both at being referred to as 'Miss Princess' and the prospect of looking inward at herself. "Are you sure this is Animagi 101, or is this secretly an intervention?"

He chuckled. "Definitely not an intervention, Cass. But I'm being serious. An Animagus is an outward reflection of you – your personality, your traits, your values. At its core, it represents your spirit."

She frowned. "I thought that was a Patronus?"

"A Patronus and an Animagus are certainly similar in aspects. But while a Patronus can change forms depending on the caster – say, a life-altering event happened, in which case, a Patronus can change from a cat to a dog, based on the internal circumstances of the caster and their emotional state – an Animagus form does not change, ever."

"So...an Animagus is based on your core values and such, while a Patronus is, like, your core-core?"

"If you want to look at it that way, then yes." He shrugged. "Like, let's say you're an apple. Your outside – your physical body – would be the edible part of the apple."

"Yum," she interjected. He ignored her.

"When you get past that, you get to the core. And let's say that the membrane surrounding the apple seeds is your core – your Animagus, for this example. And past that, you get to the seeds, or the innermost core – or, core-core, as you put it. And that's your Patronus."

She nodded slowly. "That makes a lot of sense, actually. But now I really want an apple."

He shot a look at her that was half-exasperated, half-amused. "Later. Let's focus on the task at hand. If you had to guess, what would you say your core traits are? The heart of what makes you, you."

"Er..." She shifted in her seat, uncomfortable now that she was on the spot. "I guess I'm...funny? I make pretty good jokes. And, um, nice...?" She cringed when he just stared at her, contemplating. "I dunno. This is weird. How am I supposed to know?"

"Dig deeper," he said. "I can think of a few already."

"You can? Like what?"

"Like that you're brave." Her face flushed. "You spent all last year trying to help your brother, even when it got dangerous for you to do so. And not to mention that you're compassionate. You want to help others. And you're loyal—"

"I'm not," she said. She heard Snape's sneering voice echoing in her head and shook it vehemently. "I'm not. I'm not any of those things. I'm selfish, and I get people hurt, and I—"

She pursed her lips, fighting back the tears building in her eyes. Remus leaned forward, concerned.

"Cassie?" She couldn't meet his gaze as anger and disgust roiled inside her. She had purposefully been avoiding what Snape had told her about Avery, about his family. How she had put them all in danger, without even knowing so. She couldn't face it. Couldn't bear to. "Cass, hey. Talk to me. What's going on?"

"Avery," she choked out. "I did something terrible, Remus. I—"

Her chest was starting to heave. A black wave rose up to greet her, an old friend she had spent many days with over the summer, thinking about her parents, her brother, how she'd failed them all. How she was now responsible for four more lives that could be snuffed out at any moment. Because of her. Because of what she did.

"They're going to die because of me," she said. The admission brought the wave bearing down on her, ready to suck her back under, to drown her in its darkness again. "Avery – his parents – Godric, his little sister – he's going to kill them all, and it's all my fault, everything is my fault—"

She would've fallen out of her chair had Remus not suddenly been by her side, holding her up. Her whole body shook with sobs. Remus knelt before her, and she slipped out of the chair, collapsing against him and sobbing into his chest. She barely felt his comforting hand on her back, the steady grip on the back of her head that held her to him as she let everything out, all her guilt, all her shame – how she couldn't save Will, how she couldn't save her parents, and how she couldn't save the Averys—

"Why did I let it happen?" she cried. "Why couldn't I save them?"

"You did everything you could," he said, his voice muffled by her shoulder. "It's not your fault, Cassie. It's not."

"I should've let him die." She clutched his neck tightly. "Will. I never should've tried to help him – to save him—"

"But you did." He pulled back from her and grabbed her face, forcing her to meet his eyes. They were bright with unshed tears, and she wondered why he was crying, too. "You did it because you loved him, Cassie. Because that's who you are. You can always find the good in someone, no matter if they're a monster. You just – love, so fiercely."

"I didn't find the good in Avery," she said bitterly. "I used him, Remus. I used Avery for my own means, and then tossed him aside like it was nothing. It was so easy for me to do. Not once did I stop and think about the repercussions. I couldn't. Not when I was telling myself it was for the right reasons." She shuddered. "Does that make me a monster?"

"Absolutely not," he said immediately. "You're not a monster, Cassie. Monsters are people like You-Know-Who and everyone who follows him. Monsters are people who kill innocents and hold entire families hostage just because they can – because they want to. You are not one of them."

She couldn't speak. She just ducked her head and cried for everything she had locked away for so very long. She cried for the black tombs where her mother and father now rested, for the brother that she used to have, for the aunt that had been forced to turn away from her old life and who lost her sister because of it. She cried for her cousins, and the other young children that had to be born in such a dark time, for all the innocents who had died already in a war that should never exist. She cried until she couldn't anymore, until the candles had burnt into a dull orange glow, like embers at the bottom of a hearth.

And then they sat. For so long, until it might've been midnight. She didn't know. But Remus stayed with her on the floor of the shack, their backs against the ruined wall, a set of deep claw marks only inches away from their feet.

"This was from one of the first times." He scraped his shoe over the gouges in the floor. The furrows went so deep that she could see the foundations of the stone beneath. He drew his knees to his chest and rested his elbows on them, staring at the marks. "I was still eleven. Still new. Still trying to fit in, as much as possible." A faint smirk crossed his features. "You should've seen how the lads treated me back then. James tried so hard to be my friend that it was actually kind of annoying. Peter followed his lead, of course. And Sirius... Well, he was just Sirius. I'm sure you understand."

Cassie didn't have the strength to chuckle, but her lips twitched. She could still remember Sirius's icy demeanor and scathing remarks to her back before they had become friends. It honestly amazed her that they'd even struck up a friendship, much less admitted they had feelings for each other.

"My entire life, I'd been so alone." His eyes stayed on the floor, but she knew he was elsewhere within that moment. "I had my parents, obviously, but never any friends. We always moved before I could make any, before anyone caught on to what I was. It was terrible. A miserable existence.

"I never thought I would have friends. Much less the amazing ones I have now. Friends that I would die for. Friends like you."

He met her eyes. She looked back this time; unafraid, unflinching. Letting him see every part of her. Letting him be a friend.

"You're not a monster, Cassie," he said quietly.

"And you're not either, Remus," she whispered.

He held out a hand, a ghost of a grin on his face. "No monsters allowed."

She put her hand in his, their fingers twining together. "No monsters allowed," she agreed.