First chapter in perhaps a series. Rowling owns all, possibly even my non-exsistant soul, so I don't think you could sue me for any more… Enjoy! Sirius and Remus implications and more in future chapters. Tell me if you like and I shall continue.

            I hate being sick. I mean, I absolutely abhor feeling this way. It's not as though Life does not rob me blind out of about a week of each month anyway. Even more, if Life can figure to roll the die just right… Yet this debilitating feeling of helpless exhaustion is almost worse. Just, worse in a separate way.

            Being a werewolf does have its twisted little advantages, yes. I hate to admit the up sides, or that there are any, but, power is intoxicating. Especially if you know who I am. That quiet, darling, sweet Remus who studies hard and just happens to make mistakes from time to time, like everyone. And that is me. No lie there, everyone does get the basic idea right there. But, it's nice to feel a surge of utter strength, as deadly and wrong as it might be. Sometimes, I hate the feeling because it's rage too. Unbelievable rage that would attack anything on two legs, and absent-mindedly tell you later that, "Oops! That was your best friend… well, nothing to do about it now, no?" That. I hate. The powerful feeling of causing terror, I could like.

            There is a promise of that entire time that you have a terrible power over every one, which they cower from and obviously respect. You make one threatening noise and they run for cover and their lives. It is… exhilarating. And I will not tell any one that, per se. But it is nice, to know that they respect you enough to give you a rather large head. I would suppose it is somewhat like James feels when he wins the Quidditch cup and hundreds of voices yell for him. It is just not in fear… and that gives you a ego boost that few other things can match, as twisted as it may be.

            But this is nothing like that. This is weak with no promise of future strength. A horrid little cold. Sure, Wizards could heal a fractured arm or broken nose with a simple, bloody spell, but the Common Cold still runs rampant. The Good Madame send me out of the infirmary, of course, because a good wizard should tough it up, try to be mature and go on with his classes. She tells me that I'm a 5th year. She implies that I have that lovely help of canine-fortified immuno-systems, no? She doesn't say – but makes it painfully clear, mind you – the infirmary is simply too full this time of year. I should be able to deal. But I could not drag myself out of the bed today. Looks like Lupin will not be 'suckin in up' just yet.

            So here I lay, nestled deeply into my covers, behind the drawn curtains of the bed with a glowing nose and wallowing in my self pity, wondering how much work James will bring me back and how long I will spend trying to catch up with all the Professors I missed today. I sit, surrounded by half-emptied boxes of tissues and everything having an under-water quality because of the tears of illness in my eyes and wholly refuse to go to class in such a state. I am a pitiful sight, indeed... I wonder if Peter is helping Sirius with those slings, since James will obviously be too busy in other ways… Have I mentioned yet that I hate being sick?

            I hate it when Remus is sick. I am not the only one, I know, and my reasons are most likely a bit more selfish. Poor boy, he hates being sick himself. And Peter and James and Lily are, of course, nice little substitutes, but they in no way make up for the absence of Remus. Just as Remus would not complete the hole they leave when they leave. Well, perhaps he makes a bit more complete than they would in the opposite situation… but that is a whole other matter, and it's my frustrations that are at stake at the moment!

            Everything goes slower when there's no one to help me devise those perfect, tiny two-person slings that launch whatever projectiles there are lying about at Professor McGonagal. James can't pull it off right, for all the athletic ability he possesses. Peter's a bit too afraid of being caught, the big pansy. Lily? She wouldn't do such a thing on her life! Besides, she and James are too busy writing mushy notes at the moment to be bothered with my woes of boredom. And it's not as if Remus and I don't love the Old McGonagal… it's just… more fun that way.

            I miss him terribly now that the Professor starts to speak of anthropomorphism's history. How most of it started with centaurs and minotaurs and werewolves, and it evolved into a Wizarding Art Form. If you then insert her slight bit of starched self-promotion here, you have a normal lecture from McGonagal. Boring as  all of bloody hell at the moment, but it certainly does remind me of Remus. I simply decide that I will have to bring him something after class that's not re-copied notes. Maybe stop by the kitchen and bugger the house elves to fixing up something salty for him. (He always has liked saltiness more than that candied flavor… it's one of the quirks not many people see of him.)

            I plot what else I can get him. Most likely, he won't be up for eatting much of anything. He was rather ragged looking when I left him this morning. Didn't help any that I teased him about not getting him any more tissues. I still owe him for that cruel bit, even if I didn't mean it to be so cold. Hehh, well, I did deserve that pillow to the nose, but that's never proper pay back. No, it'll have to be something better.

            However, all things better have to be done when Remus is not so sick. A prank with the invisibility cloak, like stealing something from that imbecile Filch. Or orchestrate the hanging Severus's briefs from one of the higher towers with a bit of coercing James into becoming an accomplice. Just slipping out after curfew or some such. Him being as ill as he looked this morning, there is no way it would be possible for us to go and play a trick like those. Fun equates dangerous, but not so much being downright idiotic in the face of authority.

            The thought that would be the perfection of all other plans hits me just as she moves onto the topic of human-to-animal transformation and I request permission top be excused.

            "I don't feel well," I say apologetically, giving a rather weak look and half-heartedly gripping my stomach.

            The lady gives a dignified look from behind her spectacles and eyes me suspiciously, perhaps trying to convince herself that I am not lying, "Well, it does seem to be going around…"

            "You wouldn't want me making a mess on the floor?" I push, perhaps a bit too hard, but it does the trick.

            "Go, Mr. Black… but you'll not be excused from tomorrow assignment!"

            "Of course, Professor," I say, half way out the door as she calls it to me… she can't even see the little smile on my face that shows just how please I am to have gotten away with it all… I have the most MARVELOUS plan on how to cheer Remus up!

This… was not a teaser. This was simply the first chapter. There may be two more fluffy chapters (possibly with a bit of a lemon or lime twist) coming to you, if you're good slashy fangirls and fanboys and leave at least five reviews. Kusari thanks you from the bottom of her black little heart. ^_^