The weight of this knowledge sat heavy on Neville's chest and he had to look away again. He had to wipe at his eyes and then wipe his fingers on his pants, ignoring the spots of wetness left behind. It wasn't in him to force a confession, to make this conversation worse than it already was. But neither was it in him to let this dark creature go without being caught, without an attempt to control it, to put it away safely during the full moons so that it wouldn't wreak havoc like this again.
A horrible, horrible thought entered his mind then. What if not all of the villagers were accounted for? There was potentially two werewolves out there now. Or more. He sniffled, wiped once more at his eyes, and sat up straight. He looked straight at Remus, and forced his voice to be firm, commanding. "Remus, for the love of God, I need you to tell me, because there may now be more than one out there. Did you bite someone last month?"