Eleven year old Remus Lupin followed the rest of the first years up to Gryffindor Tower.  They were pointed up to the dormitories, and to Remus's relief, there was only three other boys in his dormitory.

It wasn't that Remus was shy.  He was quiet, yes, but not shy.  He just preferred to be out of the center of attention.  He would also prefer to hide his biggest secret for as long as possible.

You see, Remus Lupin was a werewolf.  He was lucky to come to Hogwarts at all, he supposed, he had special arrangements made by Professor Dumbledore himself.

It wasn't illegal for him to be at Hogwarts, far from it, but both Professor Dumbledore and his parents had warned him that many wizards did not take kindly to a werewolf, and especially not to sharing a room with one.  Remus had promised he would keep it a secret for as long as possible.

"Oi!" A voice called Remus back to reality, and he realized he had only half unpacked his trunk (one pair of socks had rolled away under the bed).  He realized that the voice belonged to a boy with glasses and messy black hair that stuck up every which way.  "What's your name?"

"Remus," Remus replied quietly, prepared to duck back under his bed to search for his socks.

"We don't bite, mate," a boy with long, wavy black hair told him.  "I'm Sirius, and that prat is James.  That mousy one's Peter," he said, gesturing to the round, pudgy boy in the last bed.

"Hey!" Peter retorted, and Remus felt a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

Remus looked down again, ducking under the bed to look for his socks.

"Need help, mate?"

Remus jerked back as a voice spoke suddenly from behind him, yelping as his head made contact with the underside of his bed.

He sat up, stars swimming in front of his eyes as he looked up to see Sirius standing there with a contrite expression on his face.  "Sorry, mate.  I thought you heard me."

"Looking for my socks," Remus managed to mutter, the pain subsiding slightly.

"Oh!" Remus heard the surprise in Sirius's voice.  "Here, let me look."

Sirius walked to the other side of the four poster, kneeling down and reaching under the bed to pick up the missing pair of socks.  "Here you go." He tossed the socks to Remus.

"Thanks," Remus replied, catching them and putting them into his drawer.

Remus tuned out as the conversation turned to Quidditch (James wanted to be a chaser, Sirius couldn't care less, and Peter had no idea what he was talking about), deflecting numerous attempts to drag him into the conversation, finally admitting he had never flown before.  This statement was met with insistence from James that they would have to get him on a broomstick as soon as possible.

As Remus climbed into bed that night, he allowed himself to hope that maybe, just maybe (ignoring the niggling fear that his secret might be found out), everything could work out for him here at Hogwarts.

•°•°•°•

A/N:  This really isn't a personal best for me.  However, it's about Remus, so I'll post it anyway.

So, so sorry I didn't update earlier.  I've been even more busy than usual.  Hope you like this, and please tell me about any weird mistakes in the story.  I type these on my phone, and autocorrect does weird things.

I'll be back (hopefully sooner than last time) with a new update!