The moon on March 23 was not at its fullest; that had been March 22. The moon on the day before and after was never perfectly round, though human eyes found it difficult to tell the difference.
Human eyes also found it difficult to distinguish werewolves, but with the help of a Sneakoscope or a magical eye, they could be identified.
The first time Harry encountered Remus on the Hogwarts Express, the Sneakoscope had kept spinning and glowing. At the time, he had thought it was broken.
Remus did not look like someone untrustworthy. Honestly, Severus looked far more suspicious, just as Harry's father James had said—always poking that big nose of his around, prying into other people's secrets.
Especially since Severus had killed Albus Dumbledore. Harry could not trust him, at least not the way he trusted Arthur.
That was why, when he saw Severus lying in a pool of blood, one of his first thoughts was, That's someone on the verge of death, rather than wanting to save him as he had when Arthur was attacked.
The Aurors had been slightly late in deploying their magical defensive net. Many werewolves still made it into the stadium. Everyone's attention had been on Anfield, and no one had noticed Stanley Park next door. It was no small park, with a wide stretch of level ground—perfect for gathering.
Packs of werewolves charged into the stadium to "feast." When Harry saw them rush into the stands, the same thought struck him as before: These people are going to die. I can't save them.
Just as he had expected, the stadium lights went out, and the match was suspended. What was he supposed to do next?
He wandered through the darkness in a daze, not knowing what to do.
He did not want