Newt lit the fire with his wand and Elva stared at it as it blazed, instantly a roaring flame. He put the briefcase down on the table and undid the latch. It was a shock to Elva to see, not rolled up socks and folded jumpers as she would have expected to, but instead what appeared to be the top rung of a ladder and the darkness of an open space below. Her brow furrowed and she leaned to look beneath the table, but all she could see from below was the bottom half of Mr. Scamander. Elva, confused, sat up and found that Newt was bent double into the briefcase, and it sounded as though he were talking to somebody.

When Newt stood up, he saw the perplexed expression on his face, and he said, simply, "Ex-extendable charm. Quite - quite a good one, if I do say so myself. Set it - it up in my - sixth year - at - at Hogwarts." He smiled. "Made qu-quite the hideaway when I n-needed."

Elva wanted to ask what a Hogwarts was, but she was distracted by a woman climbing up out of the briefcase by way of the ladder. Newt offered her his hand and turned to Elva. "This - this is Tina - my - my wife." He quickly pushed the Niffler back into the case and slammed it shut.

Tina smiled, and, when she saw Elva's face, she said, "I'm sorry, my husband is probably doing quite a shoddy job of explaining to you what's going on." She gave Newt the side eye and he shrugged. 

"What is going on?" Elva asked. "And how did you make me change from my fox?"

Tina said, "Well, actually, we were wondering about how you change into your fox."

Elva stared at them. "I just can."

Tina sat down. "Your name is Elva, isn't it? Elva Greenwood?"

She nodded. "How did you --"

"Ned Veigler told us. The man who owns this castle."

Elva nodded, "I know Ned."

Tina said, "Well, Elva, I'm a witch... and this is my husband, Newt Scamander, and he's wizard, like Ned Veigler."

"Ned Veigler's werewolf," Elva said.

"And a wizard," Tina nodded. "A wizard first. Always a wizard first."

"Were-were wolf is m-more a - a side effect than a - an identity," Newt broke in, "It's c-caused by --" Tina stared him down and Newt said, "Side e-effect, not identity. Th-that's all."

Elva shook her head though, "Werewolf is more than a side effect." Her voice was harsh and bitter, her nose flared with conviction.

Tina replied, "It's an illness as terrible as any other."

Elva looked at Tina and Newt and back again, "You speak as though it can be cured, as though-"

"Not - not cured, but t-tamed," Newt interrupted, "M-managed, at least."

Elva looked sickened. "Tell that to my parents, tell them how manageable werewolves are. Tell it to my brother," she snapped, "Who has six inch scars across his face, deep and pink, that have ruined him. Tell it to the other villagers, whose families have been torn apart by the werewolves."

"Not m-my werewolves," Newt said. "Others, p-perhaps but --"

"Newt, not helping," Tina stopped him. She turned to Elva again. "What Mr. Scamander is trying to say is that there are some werewolves who don't try at managing their condition - some even that use the full moon for evil purposes, to kill - but there are some, too, who are good. And Ned - Ned is one of the good ones."

Elva stood up. "He's told you to come."

"No, we came of our own volition," Tina said. "We were worried for Ned, worried that his home might be in danger."

"Danger?" Elva's eyes flashed, "Danger from what?"

"You," Newt said bluntly.

Elva's face registered shock. "From me? How on earth would I be a danger to a werewolf?"

"Well, Ned was afraid, when you overheard, that you would tell others in the village and that the castle might be attacked in an attempt to kill the werewolves," Tina explained.

Elva shook her head slowly, "No. I told no one. And I don't intend to."

"Good," said Newt.

Tina added, "We appreciate that. Very much. It isn't very often that a werewolf can find safety - even, or perhaps most especially, in the magical community. Ned Veigler's been working very hard at getting approved to run a school here, and it would be a shame for him to lose all of the work he's done."

"A school?" Elva asked, "A school of werewolves?"

"A school for outcasts," Newt answered.

Elva looked down, taking this information in.

"For - for people with - with special abilities that aren't acc-accepted elsewhere," he added.

Tina reached out and touched Elva's arm gently. The girl looked up to meet her eyes. "How is it you can change into a fox, Elva?" she asked. "It's very unusual, even in our world, that a person can transform into another beast... and it takes years of practice and study. There's very, very few."

Elva said, quietly, "It started when I was a girl, about twelve, I started to dream of foxes and of... running... in the forest, seeing the world through the eyes of a fox. My family always said I had foxy ways, I observe and hear keenly and my hair has always just grown silver like the arctic fox's fur."

"But you're not from a wizarding family?" Tina asked.

Elva said, "My mother and father were killed by a werewolf when I was very young. My brother remembers the day, he was older, already in his teens by the time it happened. The wolf attacked him, too, left scars on his face, left him craving raw meat on full moon nights, but not transforming." Elva shook her head, "If we were ...wizards... that wouldn't have happened."

"It happened to Ned," Tina corrected her.

Elva looked afraid.

"He wasn't born a werewolf, he was turned, years ago now, and he's been struggling with the consequences since."

Elva drew a deep breath, looking down at her feet. "I would know if we were --" she shook her head, "I'm not -- I didn't even knew you existed, really. Like there's fairy stories and --" Elva shook her head.

"Your-your m-mum and dad - they - they were always fr-from Iceland?" Newt asked.

"No, I was born in London. We moved here when I was a baby, I don't remember London, but there are pictures."

Newt looked at Tina. "You d-don't suppose...?"

"Perhaps," Tina replied.

"Perhaps what?" Elva asked, looking between them.

Tina said, "It wouldn't be the first time we've seen it."

"No it w-wouldn't," Newt said.

Tina nodded slowly. "And it does make sense."

"What makes sense?" Elva asked.

"Perhaps I should owl Queenie," Tina suggested.

Newt and Tina were exchanging an entire conversation with their eyes, and Elva felt on edge, unsure what they were saying, what they were insinuating...

Suddenly, from inside the briefcase, there came a baby's cry and Tina jumped up. "Hang on, I'll be right back." She dashed for the ladder in the briefcase, and shook her finger at Newt, "Be good."

"I - I always am," he said, but even Elva knew by the look of him that he wasn't.

Tina disappeared into the box and a few moments later, the baby's crying stopped.

Newt explained, "My g-grandson."

Elva nodded.

Newt paused, looking about, then, "Would you - you like to come and - and see my creatures?"

"Your creatures?" Elva asked.

"Yes," Newt nodded, "I'm - I'm a magizoologist, you s-see, and I've a good deal of inter-interesing creatures in the briefcase." He waved his hands at the ladder. "D-Don't worry, the werewolves are - are contained."

Elva stared at the briefcase. "You've got creatures in there?"

"Qu-quite a menagerie, r-really," Newt said, proudly. "In- including a lovely demiguise. Dougal."

Elva blinked at the briefcase. "All in there?"

"Yes," Newt nodded.

She studied him a moment. "What is it that you and Tina are thinking? About me? About my fox?"

"It's a - a rather l-long story and -- I'm af-afraid I don't know all of the details, but - but perhaps we could better explain y-your ablity once we've - we've done some research," Newt replied.

Elva stared at him.

He gestured to the briefcase. "S-so? Sh-shall we?"

Elva got up slowly, crossing the room, and Newt offered her his hand. "In you hop," he said, and he helped her climb over the lip of the briefcase.

Remus was trying to be brave, but Sirius could hear the whimpers only just contained behind his voice as they sat, playing a game that Lily had taught Remus called Go Fish. Sirius sat on the bed in just his underpants and a t-shirt, a cigarette hanging out of the side of his mouth and a pair of orange sunglasses on his nose. "Got any queens?" he asked.

"None, aside from you," Remus replied.

Sirius grinned, "Best bloody queen there is."

"Go fish," Remus commanded him, and Sirius waved his wand and a card from the pile floated up to his extensive hand, which he'd wingardium leviosa-ed to float before him while he massaged Remus's knees and ankles.

Sirius glanced at the deck. "You've not gotten it rigged, have you, Moonpie?"

"Of course not," Remus answered.

"Mmhm," Sirius murmured, eyeing the deck that was balanced on Remus's thigh.

Remus smirked. "Got any sevens?"

"Fuck. Here." Sirius reached up and plucked a seven from his span of cards and Remus dropped his match into the pool around him of his matching sets. Remus only had a couple cards left, while Sirius had probably a quarter of the deck.

"A Jack?"

"Are you serious?"

"No you are."

"Here's your fuckin' Jack." Sirius tossed the card at Remus, who smiled and was down to one card.

"Three?"

Sirius glared.

Remus grinned.

"I don't like this game."

Remus laughed as Sirius chucked the card and Remus laid his last card down and held up his palms. "I win."

Sirius said, "I hold that you were cheating somehow."

"I want my prize."

"Yeah? You want a fuckin' prize?" Sirius let the cards fall like confetti and he crawled up to kiss Remus, leaning over him. He stared into his eyes as Remus laid back in the pillow. "You'll have to take a raincheck, it's nearly moonrise."

Remus sighed, "Drat."

Sirius kissed his chin. "You're going to feel better after the moon, though, you know? I know it's rough, but the days after are always your best ones."

Remus nodded. "I'm just so tired of it. The cycles, the moons, the transformations. I'm tired of it."

"I know, Moony." Sirius ran his fingers through Remus's hair. "But I'm here."

Remus pulled Sirius close. "I appreciate that, more than you know."

Sirius smiled. "Hey, we should go and find a lake tonight and go swimming. Doesn't that sound bloody fantastic? Swimming?"

Remus smiled, too, "Yeah, it does."

"Reckon wolves swim the doggy paddle?" Sirius asked.

Remus laughed.

"We already know they like it doggy style." Sirius's eyes glowered with humor.

"You're bloody dirty," Remus shoved him.

Sirius giggled and rolled off the bed, getting up and walking over to lean out the tent door to see the sky. He turned back around. "Hey, I think it's about time, Moony..." And Sirius turned to collect Remus to prepare for the full moon.

James had the Knight Bus let him off in the village down the road from the Lupin house. He walked along toward it, dawdling, taking his time with it, worrying all the way about the way his parents would react to his being there after having run off like he did. He sighed and dragged his feet and thought up grand apology speeches to say.

He stepped through the Fidelus Charm and paused at the gate, staring up at the house, which was glowing with warm lights. He let out a long streaming sigh and trotted up the walk to the porch, up to the door, and hesitated. Does one knock when one returns home from running away? he wondered. But he felt silly knocking. So he pushed open the door.

He found the living room populated by his mum, dad, Elphinstone Urquart, Minerva McGonagall, and Albus Dumbledore. He blinked in surprise at the three guests.

"JAMES!" Dora ran across the room with the cry of his name and within a moment she'd wrapped her arms about his neck and started sobbing on his shoulder, his father coming 'round quickly as well, thumping him on the back and hugging both James and his mother in a great bear hug. "You're home, oh hell, I didn't believe Albus when he said you were coming!"

James blinked in surprise, "Wait, you knew I was coming?" he looked over at Dumbledore.

Dumbledore's eyes twinkled as he smiled at James over Dora's shoulder.

James paused, then, and drew back from his parents, holding his mother out at arm's length. "I'm sorry," he said sincerely, looking her in the eyes. "I really am sorry. I shouldn't have left the way I did."

"I shouldn't have treated you like a child," she admitted, "And I'm sorry, James, that I made you feel as though I thought of you like you were one still. It's just hard, you haven't any idea how hard, to watch your baby grow up and become a man before your very eyes." She reached up and cupped his face with her hands.

"I'm just sorry that I said the things I did," James said, shaking his head, "You're a good mum -- and you're a good dad -- and I'm sorry if it ever seems as though I take you for granted because I shouldn't ever." He reached out and pulled Dora into another hug. "I love you, mum."

Dora was crying and hugging him tightly and Charlus smiled and patted his son's shoulder.

Minnie wiped her eye with a kerchief discreetly and Elphinstone chuckled at her, to which she gave a great snuff and pretended not to have been showing emotion, which seemed to amuse Elphinstone even further.

Dumbledore stood up. "It takes a very mature spirit to apologize for one's wrong-doings," he said, coming over and putting a palm on Dora's shoulder, and then one on James's. "Most especially when we feel convicted of the words which we speak, though we speak them with harshness. When there is truth to the feelings that we have, and a true injustice has been served, then it is most especially hard to apologize." Dumbledore led the Potters back to where the seats were, and James plopped down in one of the arm chairs, while Dora and Charlus took side-by-side on the couch next to Minnie and Elphinstone. Dumbledore stayed standing and he walked over to the fireplace, looking down into the ashes a moment, then he took a deep breath.

"Mr. Potter, there has been a gross oversight, for which I should like to apologize."

James looked up, not daring to speak.

"In the past years, you have repeatedly proven yourself to belong to the Gryffindor house in every possible way, with your bravery and selfless ambition to save every person who displays need of your assistance. At times, it's been labelled as mischief and others recklessness. At times it has been thrust upon you and others you have been thrust upon it. But no matter the situation, you have risen to the tasks at hand, and become a most remarkable young man."

James felt his heart ache at the words coming from the Headmaster's mouth.

Dumbledore tucked his hands behind his back and he paced a little, continuing on, "Somehow or another, each time you have saved the life of one of your friends, or others whose lives hung in the balance - without question or thought of your own preservation - your graces have failed to be sung. And your patience in this matter has been quite outstanding. I would have been a raging lunatic long before now, should I have been your age and gone through all of the awful things that you have been into, without receiving proper recognition..."

James's heart leaped excitedly. What would he get? He hoped it wasn't just some bloody trophy in the trophy room, where dust would settle on it and everyone would forget it existed.

Dumbledore cleared his throat, "Minerva? As Deputy Headmistress of the school, should you like to do the honors?"

Professor McGonagall sat forward. "Mr. Potter," she said in her thick Scottish accent, "I do apologize for the delay on this." And she held out an envelope with bright green writing in the center. 

"You already sent my books order," James said stupidly, reaching for the envelope.

McGonagall shook her head, "No, my boy. Open it."

James tore open the envelope and tipped it to its side. Onto his palm slid a badge. A quite heavy badge. He stared with wide eyes  down upon it. Gold, with perfectly polished ruby face, etched across the center in sweeping letters... 

James's eyes traced the letters:

H E A D B O Y.

He looked up at McGonagall and Dumbledore.

"What is it, James?" Charlus asked, looking over James's shoulder. He gasped. "Dora! Dora, look."

She looked and shrieked. "JAMES!"

"For real? Me? You've chosen... you've chosen ME as Headboy?" James stammered, even as Dora and Charlus exaulted and hugged him. His hand holding the badge was shaking. "Me?"

Dumbledore smiled, "It's about time, I believe, that recognition be given to those who deserve it most. I expect the school will learn in the coming months a very important lesson about leadership and bravery from you, Mr. Potter."