Disclaimer- Every single bit of dialogue is taken directly from JK Rowling's book- The Prisoner of Azkaban, pgs 343-380. This was just a little dabble into a different form of fanficcing. Please don't flame, as it was my first attempt at this particular sort of art. Hints of Wolfstar scattered about.

Night was attempting to take over the classroom, creeping in slowly through the windows to his right, and cascading its bleakness across the many desks and chairs that filled the room. Teaching was exactly his niche, he had decided. Unfortunately, there was little hope of ever retaining a constant teaching job with his condition, but he could always hope that Dumbledore would be able to provide him with something.

Tiny dots moved about the paper in his hands- students and teachers going about their nightly business. Dumbledore pacing in his office as usual- hasn't changed a bit. Though last Remus had seen him, Dumbledore paced in more than just his office. It was his one way of showing the weight he carried on his elderly shoulders. Snivellus- no, Severus- was walking along his corridor towards his office. Peeves was causing some sort of mayhem on the third floor, and Filch was loping near at a generous speed.

The dots Remus focused his eyes on, however, were three dots that stood outside the castle. They meandered on the grounds, rushing to Hagrid's house. Labeled Harry Potter, Ronald Weasely, and Hermione Granger, they stopped for a moment at Hagrid's and then proceeded to enter the house, where they disappeared.

"Just like his father," Remus murmured softly, a small grin touching his lips. Hagrid's pet was scheduled to be executed that night, and he knew Harry would try to go to his overlarge friend. It was something James would have done… Remus figured that with Padfoot- no, Black- on the loose, his safest bet would be to watch the Map. He knew he wouldn't be able to stop Harry, but the Map allowed him to keep an eye on the child even though Remus sat in the castle and Harry walked the grounds.

Now quite finished cleaning up for the day, he cast a smile at the several creatures hidden in the shadows creeping over the room and picked up the Map. He exited the classroom and watched in amusement as the dot labeled Remus Lupin walked from the classroom and into its office. He remembered clearly the day they had made the map. Sometime in their sixth year, when it had become slightly dangerous to wander around without the Invisibility Cloak. It was much easier to keep one eye on the Map and another on one's wand. Recently back from a trip to Hogsmeade, James and Sirius had come into possession of a box of Zonko's magic crayons. With Remus to provide the charms, and Wormtail to provide the distraction (accidentally lighting the paper on fire while trying to draw the Forbidden Forest), James and Sirius managed to create the Mischief-Makers' dream.

Still, it was no use living in the past. Ever since Remus had taken the Map from Harry, memories of better days kept flitting past his eyelids, haunting his waking hours and torturing his dreams with images of their faces- all of them. Padfoot, Prongs, Wormtail, Lily. He had lost everyone that day, everyone whom he had loved dearly. Even now, sitting in the increasing gloom of his office, his head pounded with the ache they had torn open within him. Padfoot… The pain was still fresh, as if he had just learned yesterday that Black had killed James and Lily.

Tipping his head down, he allowed himself one small moment of grief for those he lost that day. The people who had made his life worth living… killed by the one he had lived for… Gripping a hand through already-graying hair, he let his breath catch in his throat but refused to cry. James would not have wanted him to cry, not this long after the fact, and James had made him strong. James had made all of them strong, even poor Peter…

Inhaling deeply, he released his hair and looked at the Map. Harry, Hermione, and Ron were moving again, back towards the castle now. For a moment, Remus thought his mind was playing tricks on him. Tailing along with Ron was another name- Peter Pettigrew. Remus blinked and frowned viciously at the Map, drawing his wand from his robes.

No. It couldn't be. Peter was dead. Padfo- Black had killed him. Years ago. There was no way he was traveling with Ron and Harry. Unless… No. It just couldn't be. The Map was mistaken. Something was wrong with it.

Just as he was about to start prodding it with his wand, another black dot came up quickly upon Harry and Ron, knocking into Ron and bounding away with the Ron dot in tow. The name over that dot was even more disturbing.

"Sirius…" the name sounded awful on his lips, from years out of use. Saying the name only brought unbearable pain to Remus, so he said it little. Impossible. Black and Peter? Black had killed Peter- viciously, brutally. Why was the Map forcing so much agony on him? It must be malfunctioning…

But the Map was made to never lie. Neither Invisibility nor Animagi could slip past its traces. But if Peter was alive… then that meant Sirius had not killed him…

And that meant…

Eyes wide, Remus shoved his wand into his pocket, knowing full well where Sirius had dragged poor Ron. Map lying forgotten on his desk, he bolted from his office, heart thudding painfully against his ribs. Peter was alive. Sirius had not killed him…