A/N: The bloody AU's killing me, so... a short distraction? Yes please. I don't know if this has been done before, but anyway. I got the idea for this particular fic roughly 10 months ago, and then I forgot about this for a while, don't know what I've been doing with my time. Now I feel like I want to upload something, so here ya go! It's kind of... no, it is immensely idiotic, but I've had fun writing/proofreading it! :D I hope you have fun reading it, too. This will be in three chapters and it's not going to get any better.

Disclaimer: I own none of this, except the shoddy storyline and the bad jokes.

Beta: None. English is not my first language.

Have fun & leave a comment! xo

On one not-so-special Friday morning, the dormitory room of certain Marauders was absolutely buzzing – and not with bees, not with bears, but with them aforementioned Marauders. (The bear at that one time was merely the outcome of some serious miscalculation on James' part and highly unrelated to the vicious bees on the following week. Sirius introduced those. He still had bruises.) The boys, oh they were extraordinarily great at buzzing, and if one was doubtful, one could always ask caretaker Filch or professor Flitwick for a clarifying opinion; they were sure present some greatly affirmative views on the subject whenever brought up.

While talking to Filch, however, changing the word "buzzing" to "chaos" would be recommended.

"We ready?" James swung his satchel strap on his shoulder as he uttered the lethargic question to his friends, but as usual, he got no immediate response. He idly turned his eyes on his wrist, to check the time on the clock he had on it. The clock was imaginary. "At any rate, we're going to be late, so... Whenever, you know."

"No but fuck, wait, I... shit, my robe's gone again," Sirius mumbled eloquently and dived under his duvet on his messy bed. For a second or two anyone (interested enough of his doings) saw nothing but his arse popping on the bed with a continuous "Where the hell is it, who stole it, motherfucker," but soon enough, from under the said comforter, Sirius emerged with a wide grin on his face. He waved his robe in the air as a mark of an obvious triumph. "All right. Now we're ready!"

"Er, where's Moony?" asked Peter casually while tying his shoelaces near the end of his bed. It took all his greatest efforts and his tongue between his lips to manage that. Yes, he was seventeen.

Sirius, for his part, was trying to figure out where the hell was the left sleeve of his robe. "Isn't he in the toilet?" he asked and waved his clothing-free hand towards the door of the lavatory in question. "By now one might think he's turned into a bloody merman! Always playing with water, that one." He gave Peter an informing glance. "I checked for gills a few nights ago and I found nothing, but I'm still sceptic. These days... you just never know."

Peter made a face at him. "Wouldn't that make him a... mermanwolf?"

"Most certainly," James agreed. With that, he took a few quick steps towards the bathroom door to call the mermanwolf by cordially bashing his fist against the wood. "Moony? You still in there?" After a long-arse second of waiting, he tried again. "Hey, Lupin?" But as the three of them heard no reply whatsoever, James opened the door slowly and peered in the room. "No, it's empty."

Peter shrugged as he stood up. "Maybe he left early."

Finally having managed to turn the robe the right way around (but not put it on, that was a different story), Sirius shook his head and pointed a finger at the floor near Remus' nightstand. "Use your eyes, dumbarse. His shoes are there!" He shook his head in the rhythm of his words. "Neatly lined as always as though he's expecting a bloody room check from the house-elves or something." Sirius inclined his head in Peter's direction. "Now, do you honestly think that he would go about only in his socks? Really."

"Perhaps he's asleep," James suggested to a full-body mirror he had found on the wall. bag had fallen on the floor again.

"Not possible, I'm sure I just saw him," said Sirius, but as though he wasn't certain, he quickly marched to Remus' four-poster. "Moony? You asleep?"

A reply (a slight murmur, to be exact) indicated that there was a marmot in Remus' bed.

Sirius, a self-proclaimed animal enthusiast, exclaimed, "Coming in!" and he opened the boy's bed curtains, only to find himself considerably disappointed as he did not see a marmot, but a very red Remus, mumbling and still buried under his duvet. Sirius frowned at the sight. "Remus?"

James nodded to himself as he studied his evidently flawless reflection in the mirror. "I told you. He's still snoozing." He swept his fingers on his jawline and his eyes travelled to rest on the Head Boy pin he had above his heart. "Got to give him credit, though. With the amount of work he's put in the N.E.W.T.s, I'd be bushed, too." Then he grinned. "But I'm not."

"That's because you don't study," noted Peter helpfully.

After tossing his robe on Remus' bed by the boy's legs, Sirius sat on the edge of the mattress and thoughtfully poked Lupin on his cheek. "Moony?" He frowned even deeper as he turned his eyes to James. "He's fucking hot!"

"Him?" Peter appeared from somewhere and peered inside Remus' bed, taking in the werewolf's unquestionably somnolent state over Sirius' shoulder. "Yeah... I don't think so." He straightened his back and cleared his throat. "Come on, wake him up and let's go. I'm starving, and it's Friday! We all know what that means!"

James, as well as Sirius, ignored Peter's following tirade about crispy bacon resting on a sultry bed of baked beans, and he hoisted his bag again on his shoulder, after which he marched beside Sirius. James shook his head at the guy. "Sirius, leave your mates out of the sex equation, will you? No one wants to shag you and you might as well get used to it."

Focused on staring at Remus' strangely red cheeks, Sirius said sluggishly, "Pete's never been in the equation..." His voice got more power as he lifted his gaze on James. "Also, I mean he's burning up."

"Fondling him already?" James asked, but moved closer to feel Remus' sweaty forehead. He didn't need too long to have reached a conclusion. "He has a fever," he settled simply, wiping his hand on Sirius' shoulder. "Quite a bad one, actually."

"Poor Moony," said Sirius quietly.

Remus murmured something under his breath.

From James' other side, Peter shouted, "What a fever! He's totally out of it, talking about pickles."

"He said it tickles," Sirius clarified as if it was obvious what Remus had said. He stood up, quickly gathered Remus' duvet off him, and started hoisting the boy up in a sitting position on the bed edge, which was rather difficult since Remus was basically unconscious and Sirius wasn't the brawniest of men. His arms under Remus' armpits Sirius puffed to his two standing friends, "We need to get him to Poppy. Now."

"And how are we going to do that?" James asked jovially and pulled his wand out of the side pocket of his satchel. "Levitate him under the Cloak? Pete, it's in my trunk. Go get it."

"Don't bother." Once Sirius had managed to get Remus in a somewhat upright position, he crouched in front of him and started gently slapping his cheek. To James he said over his shoulder, "We're not going to levitate him." He kept his eyes on Lupin's red, sweaty face. "Remus, hey, wake up."

James tilted his head at the sight. "Then what? Float him to the infirmary on a river of blood?" He thought about it. "...That might actually work. Let's do that."

Sirius left Remus's mug alone and turned his eyes on James. "Don't be an arse!" he said heatedly. "Pete doesn't have that much blood in his body."

Again standing next to James, Peter tossed his arms in the air, annoyed. "I do too!" He moved his hips as though he had a hula hoop. "What do you think pumps through all these manly veins?"

"Lard?" James asked him with a snigger.

"An obvious choice, but no," said Peter with a wide grin.

"Don't you two wags worry, I'll carry him," Sirius briskly informed his friends and positioned himself in front of Lupin, bringing Remus' lifeless arms on his shoulders and trying his hardest to hoist the boy's unresponsive body on his back. He tightly wrapped his arms behind Remus' torso and attempted to hold him firmly in place as the boy's head lolled on his shoulder. And with this, Sirius strained to stand up, but his legs shook under the extra weight and he had to place Remus back sitting on the bed again. "Nope," Sirius snorted as he crouched on the floor again, Remus' arms still on his shoulders. He watched James in the eye. "Assistance, if you'd be so kind."

But as James took a saving step towards them, Remus' arms tightened around Sirius' neck and he nuzzled his burning face against Sirius' shoulder. Sirius quickly tried to remove the guy's grabby hands, but couldn't.

They were like glued on him.

How about that.

"Who knew?" barked Peter way too cheerfully. "The germ freak is clingy as shit."

James raised his brows at Sirius. "Lupin seems to think you don't need any assistance." He made a hand gesture at them both. "And, as you know, he's usually right about these things. So, try again! Hold him by his arse, see if that makes any difference."

And Sirius did. He inhaled heavily, slowly rose from the floor with the weight, and this time brought his hands to hold Remus by his thighs, thus securing him better from not falling on the floor. The boy's arms were still tightly around his neck, almost strangling him.

"Fine then," Sirius wheezed pathetically and turned his eyes on Peter. "Toss my robe on him, so he won't freeze with the, eh, fever, if that makes any sense."

Once the werewolf was somewhat covered, they unhurriedly started to make their way to the infirmary instead of breakfast, and with every step toward the lair of Madame Pomfrey, Peter's wails about a doomsday without a proper start grew louder than those of an infant who had lost his gummy grip on his mother's tit.

Sirius panted in a way he had after their first-ever flying class as he lowered Remus on the nearest empty hospital bed, which just happened to be rather far from the infirmary doors. He was near falling down on the floor when Madame Pomfrey hurried to them from wherever the hell she had been.

"Boys! What's happened now? What is going on?"

Instead of answering the matron, Sirius had indeed ended up on the stone floor and was groaning like a dying dog.

"Lupin supposedly has a killer fever," said James matter-of-factly to Pomfrey and then gestured at Sirius, who had rolled on his back, had bent his knees up and looked alarmingly like he was going to give birth to someone. "Black here, he's on his last legs because of his immense stupidity. He didn't want to sacrifice Pete's unspoiled blood for a good cause."

Ignoring James' rambling and Peter's vigorous nodding next to him, Madame Pomfrey pushed by them to feel Remus' forehead. "Heavens to Merlin!" She shushed the boys away with a stern, "Move away from him! He needs breathing space, not you huddling over him," after which she started loading all sorts of bottles and packages on a small table between the bed in which Remus was and the one next to it.

Peter tried not to ogle at a pair of rusty sheep shears the matron placed on the table.

"Is he going to be all right?" Sirius asked shakily from the floor. He was feeling his pulse on his throat. "Also... ugh. Am I going to be all right? Can my heart rate stop if it gets too fast, as in a heart attack? Poppy? Can a trifling tachycardia lead to death?" No one said anything to him and he sighed. "I'm too young to die. I most definitely need a few more years to sort my affairs."

With one swift move James pulled him up and gave his back an encouraging pat. "Your heart's fine, surely," he told Sirius with a nod. "Just think of this as a grand opportunity for your black ticker to show us that it is, in fact, still purposeful in other means than just pumping that itty-bitty amount of blood through your body, in favour of keeping your teensy todger in the wanking business." James tilted his head compassionately at his friend. "It's worth so much more, your heart."

Sirius pouted at him. "Not a teensy todger, James; his name is Excalibur! I've told you this many times, and you've seen him." He crossed his arms on his chest as a manifestation. "There's nothing small about him."

"You keep telling yourself that," said James with a smile.

The matron was fussing about the bed. "Lads, you all have classes to attend to! Please. I need to run some tests on Mr Lupin and you cannot be present, talking about your adolescent genitals." She waved her hands at them. "Things can be rather difficult as it is, and I cannot guarantee what would happen to Mr Lupin if I'm holding a needle while you three continue talking beside me."

Peter squinted as he measured Remus' wilted body with his eyes. "Well, he can't get much worse than that, now can he? He looks like a stale oyster."

As the matron started to shoo them away from the bed, Sirius brought his hands to tug his robe sleeve – the exact same robe which was in Remus' unconscious and very tight grasp on the bed. "He won't let go of my robe," whined Sirius pitifully as Remus' grip only tightened around the fabric. "And I can't go about naked in my slipover!"

"You are not naked," James obligingly noted Sirius. "Which is muchly appreciated. Now, shall we?" James witnessed Sirius ignore him completely and continue pulling his robe. That didn't discourage him, however, rather it brought more vigour in his voice. "We've already missed breakfast, yeah? As the Head Boy I should set an example to others and shouldn't have more than two detentions per week. I had my second one yesterday." As Sirius kept ignoring him, James turned his eyes on Peter. "Second one! That's two, right?"

"You're done for," agreed Peter.

"I'm going to leave his arse here to rot," responded James under his breath.

"...I guess there's no around to it," sighed Sirius despondently to himself as he finally let go of the fabric. "I have to stay here." He lifted his hands up in the air, as if surrendering to the horrible situation, and turned his gaze to his friends. "I cannot go to Herbology! Please inform professor Sprout that I am in no condition of –"

"Mr Black, I'm sure all of your professors will understand if you tell them that your robe is under quarantine in the infirmary," Madame Pomfrey said to Sirius with an annoying smile. "If they don't, then I assure you it will be brought to you in your detention if Mr Lupin lets go of it."

During the classes of that Friday the three boys concentrated on their studies in a very peculiar manner. A few of their professors actually thought out loud that perhaps they were planning on something nasty again, but if any of them would have asked the boys, their joint answer explaining their silent and contemplative state would have been, "Except for Sirius' nakedness there is nothing unusual about us today, we are always so very quiet, and what's so wrong with studying every now and then anyway, honestly now." No one asked them, however, and the boys were able to concentrate fully on making the hours go faster.

They were very surprised to notice that it actually worked.

Around 5pm that day, Madame Pomfrey stood by the bed in which Remus was peacefully sleeping – he wasn't as red as he had been that morning, neither was he frowning nor muttering in his sleep – and the matron spoke in a soft but clear voice, darting her eyes from the bed to the standing, expecting professor McGonagall.

"Never have I seen a fever so high," the matron said thoughtfully to the teacher, who crossed her arms on her chest. "But for now, I have managed to lower it with medication, which, in turn, is prone to make him sleep. He was, but is not in an imminent danger anymore, and I'm positive that the medication will take care of the fever completely while he's asleep." Pomfrey offered the teacher a smile. "At least I hope so."

Half covered under the Invisibility Cloak and half behind one of the folding screens in the infirmary, Sirius cringed because of the matron's words and whispered to his friends, "Suppose it's pretty bad if Poppy's never seen a fever like it? If he gets knocked out with meds, right?"

James and Peter silently nodded beside him, keeping their eyes on the women.

McGonagall asked the matron something with a low voice the boys weren't able to decipher, and Pomfrey answered her with, "Via bodily fluids, yes, but I believe I speak for Mr Lupin if I say that other students are not in danger on that front."

Peter mouthed to himself, "Bodily fluids?"

After snatching a notepad from a table next to Remus's bed, Pomfrey eyed it while resuming, "With the tests I was able to run with the equipment I have here, I came to the conclusion that the fever has something to do with Mr Lupin's... well, his physiology, rather than his surroundings." She lowered her voice a bit. "Although running outside in the middle of the night probably doesn't do him that much good, being the way he is."

"How long is he going to stay here?" asked professor McGonagall austerely, opting to ignore Pomfrey's words. "Is a weekend sufficient amount of time for the recovery? He has tests to study for, as do most of the seventh years."

"As I said, the medicine should take care of the fever in no time. After that his health should improve quickly."

The professor inclined her head slightly. "Normally when a student has a fever, however, you don't call on us. I believe there is a reason behind this visit."

Quietly bringing the notepad to her chest as if hugging it, the matron kept her eyes on McGonagall and flashed her a warm smile. "The few times Mr Lupin was conscious during the day, all he managed to convey was that he wanted to return to his dormitory room. In fact," Pomfrey kept a small pause, moving her gaze on Remus. "Mr Lupin pleaded me to let him go. As you are aware, professor, he does not want to spend his time in the infirmary, not even when it's absolutely necessary." She smiled sadly at McGonagall, who said nothing back and just stood there, like a scarecrow. "I'm sure the boys know his obstinate character, as well, so this won't be a surprise to them."

"Sodding mule Moony!" Peter hissed and received a bloodcurdling glare from Sirius. Peter shrivelled visibly. "...Sorry."

"Poppy, I sincerely hope you are not suggesting what I think you are suggesting," said professor McGonagall, her voice strict and making the boys shiver slightly under the Cloak. Yet, despite of her unwavering stance, apparently she wasn't angry because of the matron's words, for there was a knowing smile on Madame Pomfrey's lips.

Sirius frowned and mumbled, "Are they... moving him back to the dormitory?" He turned his eyes on James, who, similar to himself, was furrowing his brows in disbelief. "He can't get better there. Actually I'm pretty sure he's going to die, because Pete honestly reeks like a rotten motherfucker." He proceeded to glower at Peter again. "Have you ever heard of a bath?"

"Yes, and it sounds scary," Peter told him flatly.

"Shush," James muttered and pointed a finger at the women.

Again Pomfrey had her soothing smile directed at Remus. "From a medical point of view, it's best for him to try to recover in a place in which he enjoys to be, a place he finds comforting, rather than in one from which he constantly strives to get away." Nodding as though reassuring herself, the woman lifted her eyes on the professor. "This way we ensure that his recuperation will be fast and efficient, and most likely happening during the course of the weekend. If we keep him here, constricted and with people he is not close to, it is highly probable that he becomes stressed and it might prolong his illness, perhaps even making it worse."

"You said the medication won't allow it?"

The matron shook her head, gently gesticulating towards Remus. "The fever should subside, but if that fails to happen, we have no other choice than to have him transferred to St Mungo's for more advantageous treatment. I haven't that sort of medicine in my supply. The medicine I used on him now is the strongest kind I have and if that doesn't work..." Pomfrey trailed off.

"Oh shit," mumbled Sirius helplessly. He was tightly gripping the side of the folding screen and was positively grimacing. "To a hospital? No fucking way."

"Very well," agreed McGonagall tersely, sounding as though she wanted to leave the situation as quickly as possible. "I allow the transfer, but it is necessary that the boys are informed of the situation."

"Naturally."

The professor nodded concisely. "Will Lupin have medication with him after he's relocated to his dormitory room?"

Puckering his brows, James glanced at Peter. "You sing pretty nice lullabies, don't you?"

"I have all the seductive power of a sedative, yes," Peter breathed back at him, but kept his eyes on the women.

"He has got the highest dose of the drug, and medicating him further at this point is not necessary," Madame Pomfrey told the teacher. "The fever, as I said, is down at the moment, but I am sad to say we do have to rely heavily on the fact that Mr Lupin will be in his own bed and it will make him recover faster." Snappily she placed the notepad on Remus' bedside table, swaying on her toes a bit. "Professor," she then started again, with a lower voice as if she didn't want anyone to hear her. "Would the patient be anyone else, I wouldn't be as worried, for youngsters usually do have a better natural ability to battle against these things. However, at the moment, even without the fever, Mr Lupin isn't at his strongest."

Professor McGonagall nodded briefly as if they were talking about the weather. "Should the fever stay, or come back?"

The matron sighed slightly and shook her head, saying, "Then we will have to admit that our efforts have been for nothing, move Mr Lupin back in here and rethink the possibility of the hospital. The change to the dormitory is purely experimental. If his fever returns or doesn't seem to give in, then... unfortunately, I'm not able to do much more for him here at Hogwarts."

Sirius turned his worried eyes on James, who peered back at him, the small crease staying between his bushy brows. Peter wasn't frowning; he had found a rainbow spider and was naming him George.

Again the professor nodded at the matron, her bun of hair popping on top of her head slightly. "I hope you know what you are doing, Poppy."

"Poppy said it's his physiology," Sirius quietly repeated to his friends as they made their way from the infirmary to their tower after professor McGonagall had left. Sirius watched James shove the Invisibility Cloak under his robe. "Clearly that means his... you-know-what, right? The varying amount of back hair he has due to lunar fluctuation?" He glanced at Peter. "I mean what else could it be?"

"Right," said James and Peter in unison. George said nothing because he was a spider. Nodding at Sirius' expression, James continued with an agreeing, "His problem, yes. His you-know-what, absolutely. His beast to my beauty. Of course."

"You lot are talking about his dick, right?" asked Peter happily and got a smack from Sirius on the back of the head. Peter's arms flew above his head. "It was a joke, you lout!" He turned his eyes on his hands. "Great, you scared George! Where did he go?"

"Fuck George! His dick is not a joke when he's dying," Sirius told Peter angrily. He brought a hand to his short hair, brushing it backwards from the top. "Now, squires. Think. What do we do about this thing with him? There must be something we can do."

Immediately James stopped in his tracks and tugged Sirius from the arm, making him stop as well. He flashed a smile. "What do you mean what do we do?" With a frozen grin he eyed Sirius and glanced at Peter, who had ceased walking as well. James' eyes hopped from one expectant face to another. "Do we need to do something? I don't think there's anything we should do, or I don't know, can do. Poppy sounds like she's unable to anything, and to my knowledge she's a professional." James waved his hand in front of Sirius' face. "We're not physicians, Sirius, we've barely finished with this bloody school. Pete has problems getting his pants on in the morning! What can we do?"

Sirius sneered at him. "I, for one, am not going to just sit about with a dry thumb up in my arse!"

"Well what else is there?" asked James helplessly.

As it would have given him the ultimate answer, Peter silently pointed his index finger at a sign above a humongous arch doorway behind James.

| The Library |

"Pete, you boob, you know we're not allowed to go in there," Sirius whispered as he craned his neck to see inside the library a few minutes later. He saw Madame Pince sit behind her counter, eyeing the place like a constipated hawk. "We're banned until mid-December, remember? And she takes that stuff super seriously." Sirius gestured at the woman, who was glaring at a small group of first year Hufflepuffs. "I mean look at her! I don't even think she breathes, let alone lets someone do something she doesn't appreciate." He turned his gaze on James and Peter. "And she doesn't appreciate us."

"No, you are banned – she doesn't appreciate you. It has nothing to do with us," James told Sirius cheerfully, pointing an informative finger at himself and Peter. "We're okay with her. We. The two of us." He kept his eyes on Sirius, who started to seem rather annoyed in turn. "You, on the other hand, are not! Yeah? Thanks to that dungbomb which you so cordially decided to blow up in front of her desk, as a statement of..." James licked his lips and turned his eyes on Peter. "What was it again?"

Instantly Peter said, "Reading stinks."

Sirius huffed something along the lines of "Well, Poppy did mention that someone should probably be there for Remus anyway when he gets transferred to the dormitory room, so perhaps I'll just be the perfect man to manage that" under his breath, and James asked him with a smirk, "I'm sorry, what was that?"

"I said I don't even want to go!" Sirius grumbled snappily. "Pince is annoying and books are... books! Who likes books?" He pointed an annoyed finger at his friends. "Fuck you two."

"All right, now that I've got you somewhat angry, say we're going in. Pete and I. What are we looking for again?" asked James while lazily rubbing his left eye. "As in, I think we should know what we are looking for before we go looking for it."

Peter eyed him hopefully. "We could try and find George, if he scurried in there."

"Pete, honestly." Sirius made a face at the boy and thought about what James had said, biting his lower lip. Then he went on with, "Try to find something... er, anything to do with werewolves or wolves in fever. There's a ton of books about both, I think? There might be something useful there." He looked almost nervous. "There has to be, and if there isn't, someone is going to burn that inadequate waste of space down to the ground."

With a mere brief nod, James left for the library, but Peter stared at Sirius as though he was utterly mad. "You're utterly mad!" the boy hollered. "It might take ages to find anything useful!"

Sirius shoved him after James. "Then don't just stand about, you bum, go!"

Sirius, forbidden from participating in the gleeful time in the dusty library and thus absolutely downhearted and gloomy, was about to take a relaxing bath.

After James and Peter had indeed descended into the pit of bookish abyss, Sirius had dashed to the Gryffindor tower to wait if Madame Pomfrey would bring Remus there. About 20 minutes later she had, with the aid of two bulky Ravenclaws and a stretcher, and Remus had been put to his own bed, with very strict instructions and such from Pomfrey to Sirius, considering Remus' state (as if Sirius didn't already know) and what the boys should do if the fever came back – and that was to immediately contact Pomfrey.

Thinking of how he definitely wouldn't do anything of the sort, Sirius folded his removed clothes neatly on top of his trunk at the end of his bed. On his way to the bathroom on his mere socks and boxers, he took a quick peek at Remus, who was sleeping soundly in his own bed – still hugging Sirius' robe, by the way.

"Oh, come on," Black muttered irritably, stepping closer to the unconscious boy. He tugged the robe from a loose end. "That's not your blanket, you twit!"

Remus whined something back and tightened his grip around the black fabric, bringing it closer to his face. Sirius groaned at him again, and with force he yanked the robe away from the guy's clutch, after which he tossed it over his own trunk, on top of his clothes.

"Listen to me, you numbskull," he slowly started. "You cannot have it." Remus, the numbskull in question, just turned on his side, back facing Sirius and still whimpering in his sleep.

Sirius nodded at him.

"Yeah, you better," he said to Remus' back and moved to pull the duvet better on the guy. He patted Remus' shoulder. "You just stay there until I'm done with my bath, okay?" Naturally he got no answer and he nodded. "...Okay. Potter and Pete are trying to find out what the fuck's wrong with you, so just stay put, all right? Don't go wandering off. I don't need any crazy business, which... er –"

He stared at Remus' exposed, slightly red neck.

"Why am I even talking to you?" Sirius then asked and turned to leave for the bathroom. "You're completely comatose!"

Remus and his sleeping back agreed unanimously on that.

When Sirius strutted out of the bathroom a good fifteen minutes later, only in his towel and dripping water all over the place as usual, he marched straight towards Remus' bed, a "If you want, I can draw you a bath" on his tongue, but alas! Remus was gone.

"Really? What did I say?" Sirius shouted. "What the hell did I say?" He was already stomping towards the dormitory room door, holding the dark red Gryffindor towel on his hip with his left hand, and ready to yank the door open with his right. "Where in the bloody hell could he –"

It was then when he realised that he indeed was only wearing a towel and people would certainly not appreciate that. A naked Sirius Black?

A travesty, according to professor McGonagall.

"Fuck me!" Sirius intelligently exclaimed, and then ran to his bed to snatch the old trousers from the pile of clothing – thus rendering the bath absolutely pointless.

Yet, his brain stopped when he saw Remus purring into his pillow.

On his messy bed.

Seemingly happy and hugging his robe.

Remus moved like he was in the midst of liquid fire; he lulled in a way he was trying to get away from it, yet letting the warmth soothe his aching skin was something of which he wasn't instantaneously ready to let go.

He smelled something odd in the middle of his red-hot surroundings, but he wasn't able to pinpoint where its source was, no matter how much he attempted. The only thing certain was that the scent seemed to linger right under his nose, but mysteriously enough, he saw nothing when he glanced at beneath him.

Fervently he struggled to move closer to the aroma, letting his hips sway as he floated on the hot cloud. He moved his limbs like an actual merman would, swimming towards the current of the heat and enthusiastically drowning in the sensation while doing so.

He felt as the flow around him abruptly changed pace – it turned quicker and into something Remus wasn't able to control in the slightest. As he tried to glide closer to the lovely thing he had sensed earlier, the lulling warmth, the calming scent, it felt as though his limbs suddenly had their own will and they did whatever Remus didn't want them to do.

All of a sudden, he saw a blinding white light over the red mist and covering his eyes seemed like the next logical thing to do, for somehow he knew that if he looked at it for too long, he would suffer from it later.

The light came closer despite his efforts to flee from it, and it shrouded him until he saw absolutely nothing.

Softly rubbing his left temple as though he had a headache in the making, James kept an interested brow lifted at the bed in front of him.

"Maybe..." Sirius thought out loud next to him, cocking his head slightly to the left and scratching his chin. He was still only wearing the towel and it was loosely hanging on his hip. His eyes were nailed on his bed as well. "...No. No, I don't think so. It doesn't make any sense."

"No matter how you look at this," started Peter from Sirius' left and brought his hands to his chest. "He was dry humping your bed."

"That's definitely what it seemed, all right," James noted whilst keeping his eyes on Lupin, who was again sleeping soundly, hugging Sirius' duvet and his robe with his arms and legs, like a bear hanging from a tree after having passionate sex with it. James tilted his head backwards while drumming his fingers on a book he had in his hands. "The question that lurks now amongst us is why."

Shrugging, Sirius shook his head. "Beats me! When I do it, I want to do it – not because the mattress begs me to ravish it, which..." He pursed his lips a bit as he kept eyeing Remus' overly happy face. "Which seems to be the case here. Look at the way he's fondling my pillow. It's as though he's in love with it."

"Oh yes!" James suddenly exclaimed with a smug grin and turned to Sirius on his left. "That reminds me. We came here to tell you how magnificent we are." He nodded at his own words and said to Peter, "Pete, my man, tell him how magnificent we are."

"We are very magnificent," concurred Peter happily, flicking a finger at Sirius. "Our skill knows no bounds. We should get a medal."

"You found something?" Sirius asked them as he turned his eyes away from Remus. "So soon?"

Peter nodded at him and crossed his arms on his chest again, trying to make himself seem more serious. "Yes, it was very unusual; the fact that we both gathered a lapful of books, about six each, although my lap's a tad bigger –"

"Never mind that," James said to Sirius. "We found a solution for this," he gestured at the whole of Remus, "problem, from the third book we browsed through. I'm very glad it was so easy after all, otherwise this might have taken a lot longer."

Peter dipped his head once more. "Naturally."

"So, what did you find?"

"First," James said and without a word he gestured Peter to take action on the following: the sturdy boy moved closer to the bed and double-snapped his fingers in front of the sleeping boy's face. Nothing happened. Evidently pleased with the situation, James smirked to himself. "Good, he's still at it."

"That's a good thing, then? Being unconscious?" Sirius winced. "Barely."

"Well, he would faint if he'd hear this," resumed Potter and turned around the ancient-looking book he had in his lap. He showed the brown leather cover to Sirius. "This is The Times and Lives of the Three Goblin Kings and the Encounter of the Mystical, and there's something very interesting here."

Suddenly Sirius looked very hopeful. "Really? What?"

"It's about grandwolf mating," James told him flat out with an absolutely serious face.

Peter snickered in his imaginary beard on the other side of Sirius. "It's brilliant."

"I'm sure it is, but I don't think that'll help us," Sirius said while keeping his eyes on James. He pointed a finger at Remus. "Is he mating? No, he has a fever. Remember?" Sirius flashed a tad annoyed smile at James. "A fever."

"No, no, listen," James hurried, and he opened the book from where his index finger was stuck in between as a bookmark. After a few seconds, he started again, "Now. 'It is said that by the time a grandwolf is of age and ready for mating, the wolf at hand must join with the one it has found and considers as a mate, or the consequences shall be atrocious.'" He lifted his glinting eyes on Sirius. "How does that sound?"

"Rubbish," Sirius told him immediately and strode to his trunk. "Go back, and don't return till you've found something genuinely useful." He tossed his dirty clothes on the floor and opened the chest to find clean ones.

James turned back to the book, but dawdled closer to Sirius. "Yeah, well, it continues: 'Despite of its horrendous appearance, a grandwolf is essentially a sensual being. Our encounter with one was the vilest of a kind as the beast was in search of its mate – it howled, clawed, and bit everything in its path; sometimes it bit its fangs into its own flesh, tearing it to shreds as its howls grew louder and more agonising. After reporting it in the neighbouring village, we were educated that if a grandwolf does not express its want of a mate, the frustration inside of it develops until it cannot control its own body any longer; the deranged yearning turns the animal fatefully ill, possibly engendering bruises and gashes all over its skin, which over time will become inflammatory up until the point the creature finds itself a cave in which it dies from an..." James nodded proudly at the pages. "...incurable fever.'" He looked up at Sirius with a content grin. Sirius was finally wearing a new pair of boxers. "As I said."

Sirius glanced at Peter, who smirked in a similar fashion behind James, and then gazed back at Potter. "Deathly mating? Are you two serious?" He pulled a face and ruffled his hair with the towel. "That sounds fucking stupid."

"Yes, but it fits. He's 17, the fever –"

"The horrendous appearance," added Peter.

James concluded with a simple, "Everything."

"Except that tiny part where he mates with someone!" Sirius pointed out and again gestured at the snoozing individual. He tossed the towel on the floor near the bathroom door and continued protesting, "He's unconscious, not pining for some piddling bird! Come on, James, you can do better than this."

James shut the book with a soft slam. "That's the point, if I understood this correctly. Maybe he's kept his desire to mate in secret for too long and is now suffering because of it? Maybe he's finally ready to do that? Who knows." He shrugged as he watched Sirius swagger back towards his own bed. "It actually makes total sense if you think about it. On... some sort of a grandwolf scale, of course, but it does."

As though he had hard time believing anything that came out of his friend's mouth, Sirius shook his head and leant himself against a pole at the end of his own four-poster. He crossed his arms on his bare chest and again glimpsed at James, who had sat on Remus' adjacent bed. Black squinted a bit. "The book said something about cuts and bruises? As far as I can see, he hasn't any of them."

"Not at the moment," remarked Peter.

Hugging the book while contemplatively staring at Remus, James said, "Pete's right; he might have had, but we didn't tell them apart from his usual ones." He took a sight of Sirius, who was frowning very deeply and was biting his lip again. "It was full moon a mere week ago, and he was in bandages up until yesterday. You said it yourself, they looked especially nasty this time."

"Yes, for a werewolf," concurred Sirius in a frustrated manner. "That's what he is! Not a regular one running about the Forbidden Forest, conning rabbits and munching on manky rats." He waved his hand at Peter, who had huffed at him. "No offense." Then he returned his gaze on James. "Werewolves don't mate for life. Wolves might, swans probably do, I couldn't care less about turtle doves." Sirius inclined his head as though it was going to help him to get his point across. "But werewolves? No. Think about for a few seconds how incredibly loopy you sound for even suggesting that right now."

"I believe it's the perfect time to sound loopy," mumbled James and smiled infuriatingly back at the boy. "Besides, you should really think about all the bizarre stuff we've seen during our lives. This wouldn't even be that odd."

"Definitely in my top 20, though," said Peter meditatively while ogling at Lupin.

Sirius exaggerated a shudder as he left the pole alone. "Oh, for fuck's sake, why are we talking about this? Grandwolf mating? Cheers for sharing, James, I feel the stupid on me now!" He walked to Peter and gestured at himself. "Honestly, is it on me?" Sirius grimaced pathetically. "Can you see it? The stupid?"

"Yes, it's all over you," Peter noted helpfully. "Especially on your face."

"I need another bath," moaned Sirius with an infantile pout, stepped closer to his bed and dropped his eyes on Remus again. "No, but really, look at him! With that sort of a pleased grin he doesn't exactly look like a menacing grandwolf." Sirius snorted at his friends. "Seriously – what kind of a grandwolf gives the silent treatment when I haven't done Binns' homework? Or throws a tantrum when Padfoot muddies the bed? My bed? Not his!"

Peter nodded, agreeing. "He's not even a grand werewolf. He's... kind of a lame one if you ask me. Drooling away, in a rented flat in Cloudland."

"Exactly, thank you!" yelped Sirius and after a while of merely staring at the sleeping guy, he sighed. "But no matter much an annoying mother hen he is, I still do like him."

"Everyone and their mother likes him," said Peter straightaway. "Well, probably not yours," he then added, waving his hand at Sirius, who was seating himself on his bed next to Remus' legs and who was looking extraordinarily worried.

"Were they werewolves or real ones, I think all wolves stem from grandwolves in one way or another," James told them both with a knowledgeable shrug as he again read the text from the book he had reopened. He glanced at his friends. "I reckon they were like the ultimate wolf forefathers, the grandwolves." But, as evidently the text offered him no new information, he closed the book and tossed it behind himself on Remus' bed, rubbed his face and shoved his hands into his hair. "Shit, I wish we could ask! The walking Encyclopaedia would know, but he's out of order."

Sirius bit the nail of his index finger. "Did it say he's going to die from this?" He left Remus' face alone and turned his gaze on James, who nodded as a reply. "Really? Die-die, as in goodbye Remus and whatnot?"

"Yes," James said plainly. "An excruciating death of an incurable fever. Sounds juicy if you ask me." James lifted his eyes on Peter. "I'd prefer incineration myself."

While leaning himself against a small dresser between Sirius and Remus' beds, Peter agreed gloomily. "Who wouldn't."

Sirius shook his head and made a face at Remus, who, naturally, didn't do much in return. "He's going to be absolutely infuriated, dying before graduating." He gently patted Lupin's legs and then turned his eyes on James and Peter. "Right. We have no other options – we must cure the wolf fever."

"I'm sorry what?" asked James as though he hadn't heard a word what Sirius was saying.

"True or not, we can't have him excruciated to death. Sounds way nasty."

James stared at Sirius, who looked, well, serious. "It's supposedly incurable, and you want to cure it? Reach for the stars, will you."

Sirius nodded back at him like it was obvious. "He can't die!" Then he thought of something while scratching his knee. "I mean he can, but he shouldn't. Not this weekend. We've been planning on plundering Filch's office supplies for weeks now; we need him." As his friends just kept eyeing him doubtingly, Sirius added, "And let's face it, if he dies we're all screwed. He keeps us grounded."

"Good enough for me." James cracked his knuckles and neck as if he was going to fight the fever away. Stretching his back muscles, he asked, "What's the plan, then? How to cure an incurable werewolf mating illness?" He turned to the dresser. "Pete?"

"Well –" started Peter confidently, but nothing came out of him. "I have no idea," he ended grimly.

"Okay, um," Sirius began, slight uncertainty in his voice. He shrugged lopsidedly as his friends were watching him expectantly again. "What them dumbarse goblin kings obviously didn't even consider, is that if we... er, I don't know, find out who this bird he fancies is and tell Moony to... mate with her, he'll be all right, right?" He kept peering at his friends, who didn't exactly look motivated. "Right? Naturally, we need her consent, we're not going to push him to molest anyone. Then again in his condition..." Sirius tilted his head and gently gesticulated at Remus. "The only problem we might eventually encounter is how are we going to make him mate with anyone while he's... like this. Otherwise I'd say this will be rather easy."

"Yes," Peter agreed slowly. "Because finding out important shit about this guy is always so bloody fun and easy. Remember our second year, yeah?" He glimpsed at James. "Trying to find out what was wrong with him was as much fun as ramming something thorny up in your arse without a whole tube of lubrication."

James leant his elbows on his knees and nodded, as in favour of Peter's viewpoint. "Yes," he started in a friendly manner, "but we did find out eventually that he's a werewolf. Thus, your argument is, as always, invalid."

"No," Peter corrected him, standing up straight. "Your memory is invalid; he himself told you he's a werewolf after you confronted him about his unusual and extremely dodgy behaviour."

On his bed, Sirius flapped his arms overdramatically as though he was trying to fly. "We confronted him!"

Pettigrew pulled a face at him. "About being a vampire! Honestly... No offense, guys, but you two saving someone's life? Might not be the best idea you've had."

James brought his hands together and snorted, "Now he's just saying things." To Sirius he said, "I think we should stop listening to him at this point."

"I did that yesterday." Sirius straightened his back and gently slapped Remus on the legs. "Now, gentlemen, think: for whom he could be carrying the torch? Who was he thinking while grinding my bed soggy?" He eyed his bed, not the boy who was sleeping on it.

"Melanie," James said immediately. "No doubt about it. Proper wet-dream material that one."

"Who?" asked Peter.

"Melons. You know, the dark Ravenclaw with enormous –" James made a very enlightening gesture on his chest. "Amounts of personality? ...Scary, even." He flicked his index finger at Sirius. "Or so said the bloke from Hufflepuff, you know. The one who has the pig nose now? Apparently she didn't appreciate his extravagant advances that much."

"Remus would know better than that, so I don't think it's her," Sirius told them meditatively whilst staring at Remus' face. He licked his lower lip. "Who else is there?"

For a moment all three of them did nothing but thought about the ocean of girls in Hogwarts, as if they had other hobbies.

"Vicky!" Peter cried suddenly, slamming his hands together. "She's fit! I'm sure even Moony would want to –"

Sirius quickly shook his head. "Yeah, but no. Too posh."

"How about Geri?" James suggested with a flippant tone. "She has red hair, and we all know that red-haired are the best ones. Which reminds me, Lily told me that –"

"Forget Geri," interrupted Sirius uninterestedly.

"Emma's nice, too," Peter reminded them. "And bright even though she doesn't give it away – she won the Herbology writing competition with a 16-foot essay, titled devotedly The Soul Life of a Soybean Sprout. It was life-changing." He sighed, shaking his head. "I cried for hours."

To that Sirius simply answered, "No."

James offered, "Then how about –"

"I said no."

James stared at Sirius with an exhausted face. "Why the bloody hell not? You want them for yourself? Fat chance!" James scoffed at Sirius' annoyed expression and stood up. "Also, now's not the time to prioritise things according to your own dick! Think of his!"

"No, what I mean is that none of them is good enough to be his fucking mate!" Sirius groused indignantly at him, standing up himself. "I mean; do you honestly reckon that this guy," he waved his hand again at the werewolf, "would want to mate with any of them?" He kept his eyes on James. "You do understand what mating means, don't you, James? You said it yourself, it's probably eternal, and you're suggesting Melons?" With every word his voice had got a bit higher. "...Really?"

James huffed and brought his hands to his hips like a scolding mother. "Anyone in their right mind would want to mate with her! She might spice up his life a bit! The bloke sure as hell looks like he would need a bit of action every now and then!"

"Hear, hear," said Peter.

"He's not like that!" Sirius hissed at Potter, tugging the leg of his boxers. "Have you two ever seen the birds he's been friendly with? I'm pretty fucking certain he knows that he deserves so much more than just some vain, self-obsessed idiot!" He grinned at his friends, who were just watching him in despair. "You two should think with your head for a change, too!"

"Well, that's not up to you, now is it?" James griped back. "If he happens to fancy one of them, if he wants to mate with Melons, then it's obviously her who –"

"Sir... uh."

That nearly inaudible comment from the direction of the bed froze the whole situation. Sirius was staring at Remus, who had turned on his back in his sleep; James lifted his chin at the sight as though showing the few whiskers he had on it would make him understand the happening any better – and Peter, well, he was already crouching next to the bed, poking Remus in the cheek. Two seconds later all three of them were hovering over Remus, trying to crawl closer just in case he was going to gabble something significant again.

"Did he say Sheila?"

"I'm pretty sure there's not a single Sheila in this school, Pete."

"Are you positive he didn't say Shirley?"

"Surely you know how he enunciates certain vowels, there's no way to tell. That in mind, it might have been Sophia, as well. Or... I don't know, Steve."

"Or maybe Stephie?"

"Yeah, it probably was Stephie. She's a fox," Sirius sighed miserably while moving further away from Remus' face. He moved to sit on the bed next to the boy, and by doing so, he lightly touched his upper arm. "Damn it... and my argument for his sake was perfect." He shook his head. "What a way to prove a bloke wrong and make him feel like shit at the same time. Cheers, Remus."

Turning towards Sirius' voice, Remus moaned a bit louder, "Sirius..."

The three boys stared at the werewolf without blinking an eye, while Remus nuzzled his nose against Sirius' naked hip.

Peter cleared his throat in a grand manner. "So, guys, have you heard the news?" He grinned widely. "Apparently the heart of this bloke has chosen someone who's not anywhere near a vain, self-obsessed idiot!"

With undeniably red cheeks, Sirius turned his eyes on him. "What the bloody hell is that supposed to mean?!"

A/N: I have written this completely already, but before uploading the following chapter(s) I just need to know if people want to read this further. Y/N? Reviews are appreciated. :) xo

PS. If you spotted my poorly hidden Spice Girls references, I love you dearly.