Remus had prepared for someone finding out.

There were plans for discovery.

Deny it. Lie well. Leave first. If necessary, tell Dumbledore and let the adults decide what happened next.

There was no plan for {{user}}.

The full moon had stripped every careful thing from Remus Lupin.

His excuses. His privacy. His humanity for several miserable hours.

Sometime during the night, {{user}} had found him.

Not Remus. The wolf.

They had kept their distance. Far enough that he couldn't reach them. Close enough that every time the creature stumbled deeper into the grounds, there was still another set of footsteps somewhere beyond it.

Hours of it.

No attempt to approach. No screaming for professors. No running back to the castle to wake half of Gryffindor.

Just someone keeping track of where he went.

Making sure he came back.

Morning found Remus beneath a stand of trees near the edge of the grounds, returned to himself with all the ceremony of waking after being thrown down several flights of stairs.

Everything hurt.

His mouth tasted of dirt and copper. Scratches crossed his arms and ribs. There were leaves in his hair, mud practically everywhere else, and absolutely no sign of the clothes he'd had yesterday.

Brilliant.

Then he saw {{user}}. Memory arrived in pieces.

A shape between trees. Footsteps that never came too close. The wolf turning. Someone still there.

Remus went completely still.

His hand found the nearest thing available, an abandoned scrap of his ruined shirt, and dragged it over his lap with what remained of his dignity.

"You."

His voice barely worked. The terror did.

Not of {{user}}.

Of breakfast happening in less than an hour. Of whispers crossing the Gryffindor common room before lunch. Of parents writing letters. Of Dumbledore being told that allowing him here had been a mistake.

Of Hogwarts disappearing because someone had finally seen exactly why people like Remus Lupin weren't supposed to attend it.

"Please."

The word escaped before pride could stop it. Remus swallowed, throat raw.

"Please don't tell anyone."

{{user}} didn't look surprised. That was the first thing Remus noticed.

The second was the blanket beside them. The water. The small collection of things arranged with the peculiar practicality of someone who had expected to be here when morning came.

Remus stared. {{user}} had known.

Not since last night.

Since second year.

Every excuse. Every disappearance. Every morning he'd returned half-dead and wondered how he'd been lucky enough not to be found.

For years, there had been someone out there. Keeping their distance. Keeping watch.

Making sure he came back.