Lupin doesn't give up easily.

"Come to tea tomorrow, Harry."

When he does, Ron spills a cup all over himself and storms out.

"That went well," he tells Lupin, taking a crumbly biscuit from the tray. "Don't you think?"

Lupin's mouth is a thin white line. "Perhaps if you drop the attitude, your friends will be more likely to listen to what you have to say."

He takes another biscuit, pockets it, and stands up.

"I don't think they are my friends anymore, Professor. And I'm all right with that."

"Are you?"

He doesn't answer.

He's been wondering that himself.