When In Rome

by Ineffabilitea

The Marauders get more than they bargained for when they stick their noses into other peoples' memories. Rated M for language.

This story was originally written for the Harry Potter History Challenge sponsored by millieweasley on LJ. If you're interested, you can check the post of this story in my LJ (link in profile) and find a map of the Roman Forum and notes on the historical accuracy of my story.

The characters in this story do not belong to me, and I make no money off them.

Hogwarts, 1975

"Moony! Back from the hospital wing already, eh?"

Remus looked up from his book as Sirius flopped down on the bed next to his.

"It wasn't such a bad time this month," he replied, "so I'm mostly just tired and bruised. Madame Pomfrey let me come back here to my own bed to rest. I just had to promise not to try and go to classes."

Sirius grinned at him. "See, Moony, there's a perfect example of what's wrong with you, right there. Pomfrey would never have had to make me promise not to go to classes."

Remus shrugged. "Well, in this case she didn't have to twist my arm either. My parents sent me this book, and I've been wanting to read it, but I couldn't find the time, what with homework and all."

"So the only thing that can keep you from classes is a book?" Sirius rolled his eyes. "That's so much better. Not boring at all. I swear, if James and I hadn't made friends with you back in first year, you'd never have any fun."

Remus sighed and set down his book, carefully marking his place. "This may come as a shock to you, Sirius, but reading can be fun. And I don't hear you complaining about being friends with a boring bookworm when you want to borrow my notes or work with me on a project."

"True. Speaking of which, I've got the assignments you missed today, and one of them is a group project for History of Magic. We have to research the magical culture of another civilization and write a two-foot essay about it for next Friday. Two feet each! Can you bloody believe it?"

"That's not so bad, for Binns. And at least it's not more goblins. What's the civilization?"

"Well, Binns had a list and we all got to pick, so James and I chose the Romans. He and Peter are downstairs right now, planning the toga party-" Remus groaned and Sirius broke off in mid-sentence. "What is it, Moony? I thought you said you were only tired. If you're in pain, maybe you should go back down to see Pomfrey."

"I'm still a bit sore, but that's not why I was groaning. Did you say Romans?"

"Yup. You know, Moony; they wore togas, and had parties with lots of wine and beautiful slave girls." Sirius gave Remus a cheeky grin. "They sound like my kind of people."

"That's very nice, Sirius, but the project is on their magical culture. D'you know anything about that?"

"I suppose not. Why?"

"Sirius, the Romans used magic in a very different way than we do. They didn't have wands, they didn't even really have specific spells; in fact, no one knows exactly how Roman magic worked, not even the scholars who specialize in studying it."

Sirius looked apprehensive. "So you're saying this is going to be hard?"

Remus glared at him. "I'm saying you and James picked the hardest topic possible for our project, one that will require all of us- and I do mean all of us, I can't do it all myself- to spend dozens of hours in the library, based on your desire to throw a toga party."

Sirius was undaunted. "Well, if it's a total mystery, it sounds like a perfect job for the Marauders! We'll have the whole thing sorted in no time. Plus, it's gonna be one hell of a toga party. Let me tell you what James and I have planned…"

That Saturday, Remus had arranged to have Sirius, Peter and James meet him in the library after morning Quidditch practice. When they arrived at the nearly empty library, they were surprised to find him not seated at their usual table in the main room, but standing outside one of the small study rooms at the back of the library that were usually kept locked. Madame Pince was with him. Once they were all standing right outside the room, she handed Remus a key and a vial, which was carefully labelled "Roman Wizards: Marcus Tullius Cicero".

"Mr. Lupin," she began, pursing her lips and sounding worried, "I am entrusting you with these resources because I agree that they are the most pertinent for your project. But I expect you boys to behave responsibly, just as I hope you would with any other library material. This vial is more valuable than most of the books in our collections." She glared at each of the other three boys in turn, as if to make clear that she knew who really needed a warning about treating library resources with respect, then returned to her desk.

"God," James remarked as they followed Remus into the now unlocked room, "never knew there was anything that woman'd be more protective about than books. What's all this about then, Moony?"

"Hey," Peter piped up as he looked about him, "is that a Pensieve? Wicked."

"Why would there be a Pensieve in the library?" James wondered.

"Brilliant! Are those memories in that vial Pince gave you, Moony?" Sirius sounded quite excited. "Are we going to explore some Roman memories for our project? That sounds more like my kind of studying! Maybe we can get some ideas for our toga party."

"Don't be an idiot, Pads, how could those be Roman memories?" James was dismissive. "Memories don't keep for two thousand years, and anyhow, didn't Moony tell us that Roman magic was nothing like magic today? They didn't even have wands, how could they have had Pensieves?"

"If you'd all quiet down, I'll explain exactly what this is about." Remus had put on his best 'teacher chastising a disruptive class' tone. "Yes, this is a Pensieve. Yes, we will be using memories in our research-"

"See, Prongs, I told you," Sirius hissed.

"James is right, Sirius, that these aren't exactly ancient Roman memories. Though the memories could have been preserved until the present with a Stasis charm, both that charm and the use of a Pensieve require a wand."

"See, Padfoot, I told you," James smugly noted.

"But that vial does have memories to help us with our project? Ones to do with," here Peter read from the bottle's label, "Marcus Tullius Cicero? How'd Pince get them, if they aren't original?"

As he explained, Remus now sounded as excited as Sirius had before. "That's the fascinating thing. I know you all know what a Time Turner is-"

"Wish I had one of those; think of the pranks we'd pull off then."

"Yeah Prongs, if you had one of those you could go back in time and stop Lily from hexing you at breakfast, and dinner the night before, and lunch before that," Sirius teased James, who stuck his tongue out in reply.

"To get back to what I was saying, Sirius, in actuality a standard Time Turner, if anything about such a rare and highly regulated artefact can be called 'standard', can't take you back more than a week or two. If you try to go back further than that, you can end up permanently disoriented, or even lost in time, like splinching yourself when Apparating. Apparently, though, at the Ministry they have some colossal Turners that allow for travel much further back."

"So they sent someone back with a Time Turner and collected these memories that way? Neat." James and Sirius leaned forward to examine the empty Pensieve, their postures echoing Peter's sentiment.

"Ugh," Remus muttered as he, too, turned his attention to the Pensieve, "there's some sort of gunk at the bottom. And it's all dusty." He poked the residue. "It's sticky. I wonder what it is. Maybe I should go get Pince and see if she can get us a clean one."

Before he could get up and leave, Sirius grabbed the vial. "Don't worry, Moony. I'm sure it won't matter. Let's hurry up and get going. Even if we do get to use a Pensieve, I don't want to spend the whole day in the library." Before Remus could stop him, Sirius had unstoppered the vial and unceremoniously dumped its contents into the basin before him.

"Sirius! Have you no patience at all? What if whatever that sticky stuff was contaminates the memories? Pince'll kill us all!"

"C'mon, Moony," James reasoned, "How likely is that? Some git probably just spilled his pumpkin juice in there and it had congealed, is all. I'm sure we'll be fine."

"It didn't really look much like pumpkin juice," Peter mumbled.

"It's too late now anyway, Moony, the memories are in the Pensieve, in contact with your mysterious sticky gunk, so we might as well dive in." Before Remus could try and stop him, Sirius had plunged into the Pensieve. James gave Remus an apologetic shrug and followed.

Peter eyed Remus apprehensively. "Do you really think something could go wrong with the memories?"

"I'm not sure. I don't really know that much about Pensieves. And even if something did go wrong, I doubt it'd be harmful to us, just to the memories themselves." Peter looked as if he didn't find this very reassuring, but he took a breath and then followed Sirius and James into the Pensieve. Moments later, Remus did likewise.

They were standing near one end of a bustling open square- the Roman Forum- at the base of a rather impressive hill. All around them were men in togas, standing in groups talking, or lounging on the steps of temples, or hurrying this way and that. Well, 'hurrying' wasn't precisely the right word- they looked like they were in a hurry, but apparently it was very hard or impossible to run in a toga, so they were just walking briskly. Most of those in a hurry seemed to be headed in one direction: towards a particular temple at the base of the hill in front of them.

Sirius grinned when he saw Remus appear. "Moony, so nice of you to join us."

James was looking all about him with his mouth agape. "This place is bloody fantastic! All the marble, statues everywhere- and is the roof of that building over there gold? Where exactly are we?"

"In Rome," Sirius supplied helpfully.

James thwacked him on the shoulder. "I knew that, git."

Remus answered as if he hadn't heard Sirius. "This is the Roman Forum, the political centre of the city. The building with the golden roof is the temple of Jupiter Optimus Maximus- that means Best and Greatest- you should be able to figure that out from spells though. Listen, I meant to explain this all before we entered the memory, but someone couldn't wait." Remus seemed torn between exasperation and plunging happily into full-on lecture mode.

Peter was plucking at James' sleeve. "Prongs, people are staring at us."

"Don't be daft, Wormtail, it's a memory. No one can see us. You're probably imagining it." James continued to gaze around in fascination, joined by Remus and Sirius.

"Oi, Moony, any chance we could have a bit of an explore? Maybe find a toga party?"

"Padfoot, will you stop about the toga party? We are here for a specific and serious- don't give me that look- purpose. The greatest wizard of Rome, Cicero, is about to give a speech, one which we're going to observe."

"A speech? How will watching some boring speech help us research a project on magic? Doesn't a party sound like much more fun?"

"Am I the only one here who did any background reading? Wait, don't bother, I already know the answer." Remus sat down on the steps of the nearest temple, and the others gathered round, Peter glancing about them nervously. "Now have any of you noticed anything about the language of most charms and incantations?"

"Well, they're almost all Latin or based on Latin, aren't they?"

"Very good, Prongs. Five points to Gryffindor. Did that ever strike you as odd?"

"Not especially, but now that I think about it, yeah, it kinda is. I mean, a whole language that's magical?"

"Exactly!" Remus crowed. "Latin was the native language of Ancient Rome, and it was- and is- innately magical. Now, modern magic harnesses a combination of the user's intent, the magical nature of specific Latin words, and the focusing power of wands. In general, you need all three elements, though some older magic, your Animagi transformations, for instance, doesn't require wands. But as I know I've said before, Roman magic was different."

As Remus was speaking, a rather curious procession passed by the boys. First came twelve men, single file, dressed in togas like the others they had seen. Oddly, though, each one carried a bundle of sticks over his left shoulder. Behind this strange guard of twelve came a man who managed to look worried and pompous at the same time. Part of this effect was achieved by the fact that he obviously was in as much of a hurry as any of the other men heading towards the temple, but was clearly trying to walk as majestically as possible, which meant he was walking even slower than any of them.

"There he is," Remus said, "that's Cicero, which means we'd better hurry up and follow him or we'll miss something. I don't have time to explain it all, just c'mon and I'll talk as we go." The four boys trailed after the strange group. "The Romans didn't have wands to focus their magic, and as a result their magic was much more subtle, and based almost entirely on the inherent power of their language. Cicero is considered their greatest wizard, not because he did anything particularly flashy, but because he was their most skilful manipulator of words. Muggles remember him as a great orator. Poets, too, had strong magic- look at Virgil; even Muggles know of his reputation as a magician."

They were almost to the steps of the temple now. The pompous yet nervous man had gone inside, and the men with the sticks were standing outside. Peter tugged at James' sleeve again, looking even more worried than before. "Prongs, I swear, I'm not being paranoid, those men are looking at us! I know they're not supposed to be able to see us, but they're staring right at me!"

James looked about and he, too, saw an awful lot of eyes focused their way- too many to be coincidence. "You know, I think you're right, Peter. Let's tell Remus something's gone wrong." But at that moment, Remus had reached the top of the steps, and thus made the discovery for himself, as one of the men blocked his path with his bundle of sticks.

"Sistite, hospites. In hoc templo Senatus Romanus nunc convenit. Inire non potestis." (Halt, strangers. The Roman Senate is now meeting in this temple. You can't go in.)

"Er." Remus was at a lost for words when faced with this unexpected development.

"What's this, Moony?" Sirius had also reached the top of the steps, and was looking at the guard, if that's what he was, with curiosity. "Shouldn't he not be able to see us?"

"No, he shouldn't," Remus whispered back, trying not to draw too much attention, as the guard was already regarding them more hostilely, awaiting a response. "I knew we should have gotten a clean Pensieve. There's something very odd going on here. I've never heard of this happening in a memory before."

James and Peter came up behind them. "Sorry guys," James interjected, "Peter told me almost as soon as we got here that he thought people were looking at us, but I guess we were all too distracted by the locale to pay much attention to the people."

Before Remus could respond, the guard spoke up again. "Potestisne Latine loqui? Nulli peregrini. Abite." (Can't you speak Latin? No foreigners. Go away. ) He had clearly lost patience with them, and some of his companions had joined him and were looking at the boys oddly.

"Er. Paenitet nos. Abimus." (Er. Sorry. We're leaving. ) Remus was suddenly thankful he had studied some Latin over the summers; he just hoped his pronunciation was understandable. Grabbing Sirius by the neck of his robe, he pulled him back down the stairs of the temple, trusting James and Peter to follow.

"Clearly, something has gone wrong here, but we can talk about that later. For now, everybody out of the Pensieve." Remus focused his mind on his body, back in the library study room, leaning into the Pensieve, and thought of standing up. He felt an odd pulling sensation, as though he was being stretched, but try as he might he remained within the memory. The stretching sensation was giving him a headache, so he gave up. The other three boys were still standing there as well.

"Can't get out?"

"Nope," came the reply from all three.

"All right, then we'd best get out of sight. Let's head this way-" he pointed straight ahead, where there was a small alley leading towards some food stalls- "away from the centre. There won't be so many people that way."

The four boys hurried, unencumbered by togas, down the alley, passing several small shops, until they found yet another alley, which was totally deserted, and ducked down it. As soon as they were alone, James burst out:

"What in Merlin's name is going on?

"We're stuck in a Pensieve," replied Peter, "we're stuck in a Pensieve and we can't get out and people can see us and we don't speak Latin and what are we going to do?"

"No need to panic, Wormtail." Sirius seemed extraordinarily calm, especially considering the whole situation was his fault. In fact, he seemed almost excited. "Pince'll want to lock up eventually; she'll come check on us and get us out somehow. Until then, we are having an adventure! And now that we can't get in to see Moony's famous boring wizard, we can feel free to find a party!"

"Before we can do that, Sirius, or anything else, we need to blend in a bit more around here," said Remus as he held up his school robe. "Vestimenta mutari." He tapped the robe with his wand and it suddenly became a rather non-descript cloak.

"That doesn't look like the togas those men in the forum were wearing."

"Precisely. Those were important men, leaders and politicians, and we don't want to draw attention to ourselves. I based this on someone we passed in the alley." He quickly performed the spell on the other three boys' robes.

"I thought Romans wore togas. Thus, the toga party," said Sirius.

"It's true that only male Roman citizens were allowed to wear the toga. Oh, and prostitutes-"

"What? They let the prostitutes wear the same thing as their politicians?"

"Well, their togas are flame-coloured, not white. Rather distinctive. Anyway, as I was saying, any male citizen could wear the toga, but in practice, only men engaged in public business wore them. As you saw, they are rather cumbersome."

"Remus," James asked, "how did you transfigure your robes?"

"Vestimenta mutari. We covered the spell last year-"

"That's not what I meant. How did it work? I mean, we're in a Pensieve, in someone's memory. Your wand is with your body in the library. As are our robes, by the way."

"I'm not entirely sure. I had my wand, so I just pulled it out and used it. Maybe we should experiment a little, see what we can and can't do."

All four boys pulled out their wands and were soon casting a wide array of charms on each other and various bits of rubbish they found in the alley.

"Well," said James, "our wands certainly seem to work. I wonder if we can still change. This alley's too narrow for Prongs, though, so Peter and Sirius will have to try it."

Peter screwed his eyes shut, as he always did before changing, while Sirius merely blinked before there was suddenly a big black dog standing in his place. Peter, however, still hadn't turned into Wormtail. He opened his eyes and said "I think there's something wrong, it doesn't seem to be- oh." When he saw Padfoot, he closed his eyes again and this time was quickly replaced by the rat.

"Well, that could come in handy if we need to do some surreptitious investigation," said Remus.

"By 'surreptitious investigation', you mean 'spying', right, Moony?" asked Sirius, who had returned to human form.

"Yes, I suppose so."

"Then why don't you just say that?"

"What's really interesting," remarked James, heading the bickering off at the pass, "is that Peter couldn't change until he saw Sirius had managed it. What happened?"

"Well, I was pretty sure I wouldn't be able to do it. I kept thinking about how I'm just in a memory, and my body isn't here, and so it wouldn't work. But then I saw Sirius had done it, so it was pretty clear I could, too. And then I did it."

"Knowing Sirius, the thought that he might not be able to transform never even crossed his mind," Remus mused.

"D'you think it's possible that we can do anything here that we think we can do?" James wondered.

"That we define our own reality here? Well, it is a memory, which is a lot like a thought, so I guess it's possible. But I'm sure there are some limits. We can probably only do it with things that are directly connected to us."

"I'm going to try another experiment to test the limits." James closed his eyes, looked as if he was concentrating very hard, then he reached into his pocket and pulled out- nothing. "Damn."

"What were you hoping to find, may I ask?"

"The invisibility cloak. It could come in handy, and I thought maybe if I was just sure that it was there, it would be."

"Nice try, but it seems like that may have been just a little too improbable. So there's one limit."

"Can't we test the limits further somewhere other than this boring alley? I want to explore the city and find some fun. If this is an adventure, we should do some actual adventuring. Plus, I'm starving," Sirius whinged.

"I'm not sure you could actually eat food here in the memory. Or maybe you could, but you'd find it unsatisfying," Remus replied.

"Good, then we can experiment with the Pensieve and I can eat at the same time. C'mon, there was some sort of pasty vendor in the alley before this one."

"Pads, aren't you forgetting a couple of practicalities?"

"Like what?"

"Well, for starters, how are you going to pay for this food?"

"You don't think I could get him to take a Sickle? I mean, silver's silver, right?"

"You could try, I suppose, but that brings up my second question: how are you planning on communicating with the shopkeeper? How good is your Latin?"

"Oh. Well, you said something to that guard back at the temple. You could help me."

"Sirius, all I said to that guard was 'Sorry, we're leaving.' Persuading a canny merchant to accept strange currency is likely to be quite a bit beyond my rudimentary skills."

"But I'm hungry. What am I supposed to do?"

"Might I remind you that we're still not even sure you can eat anything here?" James put in.

"Ahem." Peter coughed behind them, and they turned to find him holding a pasty. "Will this do?"

"Perfect." Sirius seized it and began wolfing it down immediately.

"Peter, how did you get that?" Remus asked suspiciously.

"Nicked it." Seeing Remus' look of disapproval, he continued, "C'mon, Moony. We're in a memory. The people in here aren't real, and the food isn't, either. How is it wrong?"

"Food tastes real enough," Sirius commented.

"He's got a point," James said.

Remus had to concede that that was true. Besides, he was feeling rather peckish himself. "I suppose," he offered.

"I'll just go nick three more then, shall I?" Peter asked. He turned into the rat and scurried off.

"Ugh, he stole that as a rat? Wish I'd known that before I ate it," grumbled Sirius.

"Wormtail's a very clean rat," James responded.

After all four boys had eaten (and Remus had to admit that for unreal food the pasties were very tasty and satisfying, with an interestingly spiced pork filling) Sirius was impatient once again. "C'mon, let's explore!" He started to take off in the opposite direction from which they'd come.

"Padfoot, get back here," Remus shouted after him. "We can't just go wandering wherever we please. This is a memory, and quite frankly I'm surprised we even made it this far away from the person who recorded it."

"You mean, if we go too far from the centre we'll- well, what would happen?" Peter asked nervously.

"I have no idea what would happen. In normal Pensieve interaction, the memory just sort of fades out and you find yourself out of the Pensieve, but since we seem to be stuck here, who knows? We could end up bouncing off some sort of barrier at the edge of the memory, or wandering in a kind of empty limbo outside of it."

"Maybe it's worth a try," James mused. "Y'know, if it did kick us out of the Pensieve, since we can't seem to pull ourselves out."

"I dunno, Prongs," Sirius countered. "I don't fancy the idea of hours spent in blank nothingness if it doesn't. Or worse."

"What do you mean, worse?" asked Peter.

"I mean, it's our minds that are in the Pensieve, right? What if our minds get stuck in emptiness and we end up like Inferi or something?"

"That's a bit farfetched, Pads," Remus said, hoping to calm Peter down a little; he looked absolutely terrified at the prospect. "But still, I'm inclined to agree that we should just stay in the memory. As you pointed out, Pince is sure to pull us out sooner or later, and in the meantime we could try and work on our project, even if we can't get into the Senate meeting to see Cicero's speech."

"All right," James said. "After all, it'll be exploring, like Padfoot was hoping for, right? Just in a different direction."

"Exactly," said Remus. "Now, let's go."

They started to head back towards the Forum, but Remus noticed Peter was hanging back. "What is it now?"

"Um…d'you think I could come along as Wormtail? I mean, I'm just sure I'll screw things up and draw attention to us. I don't even know a bit of Latin! I could hide in James' pocket, or something."

"Aw, Pete, you can't do that!" James spoke up. "It's an adventure, after all. We won't have as much fun without you."

"Besides," Sirius added, "you said yourself these aren't real people, just memories. It doesn't really matter if they notice us; it's not like we can screw up history or anything."

"Yeah, and between Remus' tour guide routine and Pads' acting like a madman, you won't be the only one acting out-of-the-ordinary, anyway."

Peter looked so encouraged by this, and it reminded Remus so much of what good friends James and Sirius really were, when they weren't behaving like total prats, that he didn't even protest.

"First, let's try and listen to a bit of Cicero's speech from outside the temple," Remus suggested as they walked back the way they had came. "We couldn't get in, which would've been best, but there should be a pretty big crowd outside listening in, and we can join them." When he saw that Sirius was looking pouty and mutinous about this proposal, which clearly didn't fit into his definition of 'adventure', he added, "Only for a little while, guys. Just so you can feel Roman magic in action."

"All right," Sirius conceded.

Just as Remus had predicted, there was a large crowd surrounding the steps of the temple in which the meeting was taking place, and Cicero's voice, clearly impassioned, could be heard clearly even out here. Remus wondered briefly if his magic was helping magnify his voice; it was outside the theoretical abilities of Roman wizards as detailed in all the reading he'd done on the subject, but it wouldn't be completely unbelievable, and anyway, how would those researchers know for sure?

In any case, he was definitely in his element. "Quamquam quid loquor? Te ut ulla res frangat? Tu ut umquam te corrigas? Tu ut ullam fugam meditere? Tu ut exsilium cogites? Utinam tibi istam mentem di immortales duint!" (But why am I even bothering to speak? Will anything dissuade you? Will you ever correct your course? Will you consider any retreat? Will you think of going into exile? If only the gods had given you that much sense! (In Catilinam I.22))

"There," Remus murmured to the other Marauders, "did you feel that? He was saying that the object of his speech- Catiline, he's plotting against the state- should go into exile. If he were a modern wizard, with a wand, just saying 'fugare' would drive someone away from him, like 'expelliarmus' for people. But without the focus of a wand, everyone who hears him feels only a slight compulsion to leave; it's stronger for the person he's most focused on, in this case, Catiline."

"Yeah, I felt that," James said, "but there was something different about that bit at the end. What was he on about there?"

"The 'di immortales' part? He was insulting Catiline's intelligence. What did you feel then?"

"I wanted to laugh, a little. So that makes sense, right?"

"I suppose it does. Interesting- not one of the words he used would on its own constitute a modern spell of that nature. Intent must count for more than some of the sources I read reckoned."

"While this is all terribly fascinating," Sirius drawled, "now that we've all felt Roman magic, can we explore a bit?"

"Yes, I suppose that's enough. I'm certainly not up for translating much more Latin that that, so there's not much use standing around longer."

"All right!" Sirius immediately tore off in the direction of the hill with the golden-roofed temple.

"Wait for us!" Peter called after him.

Sirius stopped in front of a round temple just off the main road. "Why's this one round? None of the others are. What's so special about it?"

"That's the temple of Vesta. It's probably round because it was built around a round hearth."

"Did you say Vesta, Moony?" Remus did not like the look on Sirius' face at all.

"Um, yes?"

"So that means there are Vestal Virgins around here somewhere, right? I've always liked a challenge, and so does Prongs here, to judge by his pursuit of Evans. C'mon, let's find 'em."

"Sirius, no. You are not defiling any Vestal Virgins, not even in a Pensieve." Privately, Remus thought the Vestals would be more than equal to handling Sirius, especially robbed of his glib tongue by the language barrier; as much as he'd like to see what they'd do to him for trying, it wasn't worth the time.

"What about that building there?" Peter asked. "It's all funny shaped, too, though not in a good way."

"It seems awful dumpy to be right here in the town centre," James noted.

"I dunno what it is," Remus replied, "but there's some sort of signboard out front. Let's check that out."

"Background reading failed you, Moony? I thought you knew everything about Rome and Roman wizards."

"Not everything, Sirius. And if you had helped me at all with the research for this project, you could know these things, too."

As they bickered, they had reached the notice board. "Well, Remus, what does it say?" James asked.

"There's several things. This-" he pointed to what looked like a list- "is a calendar."

"Looks bloody complicated," James said.

"Well, kind of. No weeks or anything, not yet, and the days aren't numbered the way we'd expect, so it is hard to find your place. This speech took place on 8th November, so here we are, AD VI ID NOV- six days before the Ides of November."

"That's quite a mouthful, just to say 8th of November."

"Why does it have a circle next to it?" Peter asked.

"The 'C'? It means public assemblies can meet today."

"No, not the C, there's a circle here, as well."

"I dunno," Remus answered. "Are there other days with circles?"

"Well," Sirius put in, "there's another circle down here, on the last day, but it's all black. The one today is red."

"This one in between has a crescent shape," James noted. "Thought it was a funny 'C', at first."

A crescent shape? Things fell into place, and suddenly Remus knew exactly what that red circle was about. "Fuck."

"What?" Peter asked.

James had caught on, too. "Oh shite, Moony."

"Could one of you explain to those of us not blessed with your incredible intelligence exactly what about these circles could make Moony curse? I can count the number of times he's said 'fuck' before on one hand," Sirius said.

"The Roman calendar was lunar," Remus began, his voice wavering a little. "It makes sense that they'd want to record the phases of the moon..."

"There's a full moon here tonight?" Peter asked.

"So it seems," James answered when Remus continued to stare blankly at the calendar.

"Will we still be here at moonrise?"

"I dunno, Peter, that's kind of up to Pince," James replied impatiently.

"We have to assume the worst," Remus said. "We have to assume we'll be here."

"Does this memory even last till moonrise?" Sirius asked.

"Yes. It's continuous, from Cicero's first speech against Catiline to the execution of his co-conspirators. That's why Madam Pince was so worried about it," Remus answered mechanically. He felt numb. His worst nightmare was coming true. He was going to change, without any restraints, in the midst of hundreds of people.

"She's going to be so mad at us when we get out," Sirius put in.

"Mad at you, you mean. You're the one who just dumped the memory in. And can we focus on the problem at hand? Which happens to be that come nightfall, we'll have a full-grown werewolf loose in a major urban area!" James snapped.

Remus was beginning to panic. Well, the numbness was gone, at least.

"What's the big deal? We can use our Animagus forms to try and control him, and it's not like Remus can turn anyone in a memory into a werewolf. They're not real people."

"I'm sure that will be a huge consolation to Remus as he's digesting them, Sirius! Honestly, could you be a bigger arsehole? Not a big deal?"

"Easy there, Prongs. It's not the end of the world, is all I'm saying."

"Sirius…"

"He won't necessarily change," Peter interjected.

"What?" James, who had been advancing on Sirius, clearly with menacing intent, turned towards Peter. "How do you figure that?"

"Look, Remus, your body isn't in the Pensieve, right? It's in the library, at Hogwarts, where the full moon isn't for nearly a month. I reckon it's like you were saying earlier about our Animagus transformations. You'll only turn if you think you're going to."

"Wormtail! That's brilliant!" said James. "No need to worry, just concentrate on your body being in the library, where there's no full moon, and we're all set! Right, Moony?"

"I suppose…" Remus said. How could he explain to his friends that it wasn't that simple? James couldn't even convince himself he had the invisibility cloak with him, after all. How much harder it would be for Remus to convince himself that he could look at the full moon and not succumb to the ravening beast inside him, when he hadn't been able to do so in ten long years.

And it wasn't just that. Peter seemed convinced that the wolf was part of his body; in his blood like an infection, he supposed. But Remus knew the wolf was in his mind, as well. And his mind was here in the Pensieve.

"Well, now that's settled, can we move along? The dangers of lycanthropy aside, this calendar is pretty boring." Sirius' unthinking remark cut into Remus' brooding reverie. He'd never been more aware that to his friends (all of them, even if James and Peter were more understanding at the moment) his curse was a source of excitement and adventure. When they'd first found out his secret, this attitude had taken him by surprise and felt liberating; now that they were Animagi and accompanying him in his transformations, he found its persistence disturbing. Before it had been a corrective to his own self-loathing; now, it was an invitation to laxness that could, at worst, get someone killed.

"Sure, Sirius, we can continue the tour. There's something I'd like you to see, actually. It should be just around this hill." Remus hoped the memory extended far enough to get them where he wanted to go; the site had never been firmly located.

He walked in stony silence, followed by Sirius and James, with Peter trailing a little. His friends had clearly picked up on the fact that he was still upset, despite Peter's theory, and they didn't speak, either.

There it was, just ahead of them, a slight indentation in the rock of the hillside that barely merited the label 'cave', made more formal by a small temple façade. He was still focused on his frustration, on teaching the other boys a lesson, he hoped, about his state, but some part of him thrilled at the sight. This was it; this was the very spot where the she-wolf had suckled Romulus and his namesake.

"Here we are."

"What is it?" James asked.

"This is the Lupercal. It's a shrine built on the spot where the she-wolf suckled Romulus and Remus."

The other Marauders examined the small cave dutifully.

"Versipellis," Remus continued.

"Gesundheit?" Sirius said.

"Versipellis. That's Latin for werewolf- 'skin-changer'. D'you see all these?" He gestured towards the rows of small statuettes carefully set at the entrance of the cave. Each was of a headless wolf. "It's the full moon tonight, so the people of the city have set these out here as offerings. They're apotropaic, meant to ward away danger. Each one of these represents a person who is scared to death of werewolves. Scared for himself, scared for his family. He doesn't want to be eaten by one and he doesn't want to be one. And all those people are right to be scared. I'd think you three, of all people, would know that. You've seen me transform, and I'd hoped you'd know by now that it's not exciting, and it's not an adventure. It's terrible, and I wouldn't wish it on my worst enemy, let alone on any of these innocent people."

His friends looked stricken, especially Sirius, who had lost all colour in his face. Remus suspected they were more affected by the fact that he was so upset than by exactly what he was saying, but it was a start. "Look, I just- I'm not saying you're wrong, Peter, about the Pensieve and not changing, I only wish you'd treat the topic a bit more seriously. All of you. I know Sirius was the one doing it just now, but each of you acts, sometimes, like this is no big deal when it's the one thing that defines my entire life."

"Sure, Remus, we- well, we don't understand, I guess, but we try," James responded.

"Really, Moony, we do. You know me, I try not to take anything seriously- the puns are too horrible- but I do know it's serious."

"Me too. I mean, not the bit about the puns, but, yeah. I know," added Peter.

Unsurprisingly, that little talk, however necessary, kind of put a stop to any enthusiasm for exploring. James suggested checking out the golden temple, but then decided it was too far away to still be accessible in the memory. As they headed back towards the Forum centre, he and Remus had a half-hearted discussion as to the likelihood that anything you could see in the memory, you could explore.

"It's in the memory, isn't it? Or else we couldn't see it up there."

"But Prongs, just because he remembers it being up there in the background doesn't mean he remembers it enough for it to be accessible to us."

"Oh, but he remembered those werewolf apotrowhatsits well enough?"

"Will you two give it up?" Peter asked. "You'll never agree, mainly because neither of you knows shite about Pensieves, so you're both just pulling this stuff out of your arses, anyway."

"Well said, Wormtail," said Sirius.

"I suppose you're right," Remus conceded. "But now what?"

"When in Rome, do as the Romans do, right? And it seems that what the Romans are doing is lounging on the steps of various buildings, sunbathing and playing…draughts? Ancient Romans had draughts?"

"Yes, they did."

"What about Exploding Snap? I think I had a deck in my robes this morning, we could play."

"I'm afraid not, Peter. People have been ignoring us for the most part, but I think exploding cards would draw a bit too much attention."

"It is kind of odd, isn't it, how little people have noticed us," mused James.

"Not really. I mean, think about it. Rome is the biggest city of its day- hundreds of thousands of people and the capitol of the known world. They must be pretty used to oddly dressed foreigners wandering about. As long as we don't bother them, they can ignore us."

"So who wants to play draughts?" asked Sirius. "I think I can transfigure some from pebbles. Discreetly, of course."

Several hours later, Remus was swearing that he'd never play another game of draughts again as long as he lived. Not that there wasn't something to be said for just sitting in the sun, soaking up the Roman atmosphere, but it was getting bloody boring. He tried to estimate how long they'd been stuck in this Pensieve and how soon Pince might be coming round to lock up.

Just then, he felt a sudden tugging sensation so strong he thought his neck might break, and he only had a second to reflect that, after all his noisy werewolf angst, this was quite anticlimactic, as it wasn't even dusk yet in the memory, before he found himself back in the library. Professor McGonagall had a firm grip on his and Peter's necks, while Dumbledore had Sirius and James by their shoulders. Madam Pince was hovering like a vulture and sputtering.

"-valuable memory! Mr. Lupin, of all people! Can't trust anyone to behave appropriately-"

McGonagall cut her off. "Irma! Please. These students have been trapped in a Pensieve for nearly eight hours. They must be starving, and I assume they all have unbelievably sore backs, as well. What they need now is food and rest. We can discuss the repercussions tomorrow." She started guiding Remus and Peter towards the door, her hands still on their necks. James and Sirius followed.

"You may wish to reserve some of your wrath, Irma, for the student who originally contaminated the Pensieve," Remus could hear Dumbledore say as McGonagall lead them away. "It looks to be the residue from an Adhesive Solution."

"Using a Pensieve like a cauldron!" Pince began sputtering again. "No respect at all! I keep records! I'll soon know who the miscreant was. Students these days!"

"I wonder what she'll say," McGonagall remarked to no one in particular, "when she looks in her records and finds no one's been in that study room in fifty years or more. 'Students these days', indeed! More like students, period. Though," and now she seemed to be addressing the Marauders, "certain Gryffindors do seem to have more of a knack for these things than your average Hogwarts student. I'll see you four in my office tomorrow after breakfast, to determine your penalty for destroying a valuable library resource through carelessness. Now head on up to Gryffindor Tower; I'll tell the House Elves to send up a nice healthy meal, as dinner has been over for quite some time."

The penalty ended up being made to pay a rather steep replacement cost to the library. ('Not that it'll help!' Madam Pince griped. 'That was irreplaceable! Absolutely priceless!') James and Sirius volunteered to split the cost between them, which was a relief to Remus, as it might have taken him years to pay off his quarter-share. He felt slightly guilty about it, but rationalised that the whole business was 95 Sirius' fault anyway.

The project went fine. Despite Sirius' confident predictions, not even the youngest Animagi in hundreds of years ('Possibly ever!') were able to solve the mystery of Roman magic on such scanty evidence, and so they had to settle for repeating the textbooks. Then again, in Binns' class that was probably a safer strategy than independent brilliance.

As for the toga party, for a while Sirius was seized with an absolute mania for making it as authentic as possible, but when the House Elves flat out refused to prepared his suggested menu ('Really, Sirius. Flamingo's tongues and dormice? And you thought they would?'), he settled for charming all the girls' togas flame-coloured. Not Evans', though; he claimed this was because it would clash with her hair, but he probably didn't want to face James' wrath for casting aspersions on his future wife.

All in all it was a hit; despite his failure with the food, Sirius did manage to get his hands on a barrel of wine, which Remus charmed to be ever-filling. James taught several of the friendlier portraits in the common room to recite erotic Latin poetry, and Peter made ivy crowns for everybody which were cleverly bewitched to enhance drunkenness when worn. Fully half of Gryffindor didn't make it up to their rooms and ended up sleeping in the common room, which made it one of the more memorable parties the Marauders ever threw, which was ironic, really, considering almost no one could remember it clearly the next day.

Epilogue: Grimmauld Place, 1995

When Remus entered the kitchen at Number 12 Grimmauld Place that afternoon, he found it already occupied by Hermione Granger, who was, of course, poring over a large, leather-bound volume, pausing occasionally for a sip of tea. When she looked up for her next sip, she saw him and smiled. "Professor Lupin, hello."

"There's no need for the 'Professor', Hermione. After all, I'm not anymore, am I? What are you reading?"

"Orators and Oracles: A History of Roman Magic. It's for History of Magic."

"Would you like some tea, Remus?" Sirius, who had come into the room in the midst of this exchange, interrupted to ask.

"Yes, please. Studying ahead for the O.W.L.s?" Remus asked Hermione.

"Sort of. I mean, I tried to complete my study of the great Roman wizards before the summer, but unfortunately, the Hogwarts library was missing some very important resources on Cicero, so I'm doing a little extra reading to try and make up for the gap; though it isn't the same, of course."

"Missing resources?" Sirius inquired, all innocence, though he directed a conspiratorial glance at Remus.

"Yes, Hogwarts used to have a very valuable Pensieve memory of Cicero delivering one of his speeches against Catiline, but some irresponsible person apparently ruined it by pouring it into a dirty Pensieve! Can you believe that?"

"Completely irresponsible," Remus agreed with a smile. "I can only imagine who would do such a thing."

"I mean, surely everyone knows you should check a Pensieve for dust and sticky residue before adding memories? In any case, the memory was rendered unusable, according to Madam Pince. I think she's probably still angry at whoever did it. She was practically seething when she explained to me why I couldn't have the memory."

Sirius handed Remus a mug of tea. "We'll have to remember that the next time we're at Hogwarts."