#ch14

Remus surveyed his friends. "You lot are idiots, you know," he informed them. "Bringing all this food down here—Holloway has breakfast for me. Healthy, substantial… the sort of thing I ought to be…" "You're welcome, Moony," James interrupted. "Now, coffee or tea?" "And I've got butterbeer for a little later," Peter added. "Oi," said Sirius, "and I almost forgot—chocolate." He set a bar on the bed-side table. Remus considered them all and then sighed. "You're not rubbish, as far as mates go, you know." "We know," said Sirius. Remus nodded. "Tea, Prongs." "Right away, Moony." The waking moments after a full moon were, for Remus J. Lupin, the worst. The truth of it was that he was a werewolf… for more than ten years now, he had been such, and for more than ten years, he had feared, more than anything else, those first moments after the whole thing. The uncertainty, the ache… And for just under ten years, Remus J. Lupin had done all of that alone. Now, he had breakfast.