It started, as these things usually do, over a bit of chocolate.

Sirius Black and Remus Lupin were lying on their bellies, grass tickling their elbows as Remus's Potions book lay open between them. An old weeping cherry tree shaded their eyes from the sun.

"C'mon, Sirius, OWLs are only a few weeks away," Remus coaxed. "You're smart, but no one's smart enough to wing it."

"I don't want to study," Sirius whined. "It's so nice out. I want to play."

"And I want a slab of chocolate the size of my face," countered Remus testily, "but we can't always get what we want."

"Can't we?" asked Sirius with an impish grin. He reached into his bag to pull out a slab of chocolate, then performed a simple charm to enlarge it to roughly the size of the smaller boy's face. When Remus reached predictably for it, Sirius held it just out of his grasp. "It's got caramel."

Grinning, Remus lunged, and the two shared a brief grapple over the candy. Sirius let him win; he wasn't sure, exactly, whether the sweet actually helped ease Remus's monthly transformations, but he knew that it put him in a better mood, at least... which, this close to the full moon, was a bit of a miracle. When one of your best friends was a werewolf, you learned to carry his favorite chocolate around at certain times of the month. When one of your best friends was a werewolf as warmhearted and humble as Remus Lupin, you learned to look forward to the surprised delight on his face every time you did something for him. You learned to want to do more.

Remus had Sirius pinned, chocolate held in one hand raised victoriously. But the werewolf paused, sniffed deeply. Sirius couldn't help but notice how lightweight he was, nor the goldish streaks in his brown hair. The matching ones in his eyes.

Finally, Remus wrinkled his nose. "You smell different," he complained. "Like... wet dog."

Sirius shrugged and employed his best Exploding Snap face. "I don't know what you're talking about," he said airily. "Eat your chocolate."

"Study," countered the werewolf. "You had your minute to play, now get to it."

"Well I would," said Sirius cheerily, "but there's a werewolf on my chest. Hey, d'you think that line's good enough to get me out of the homework?"

Remus's face went crimson and he scrambled off of his friend. "Let's get on with it," he said quickly. "You never know what potion they're going to ask for during the practical, so you've got to really know the techniques."


Three days later, Remus was in a foul enough mood all the chocolate in Honeyduke's wouldn't fix it. His three best friends, Sirius, James Potter, and Peter Pettigrew had something that might, though.

They watched their friend from beneath James's Invisibility Cloak. Ten minutes after Remus entered the tunnel beneath the Womping Willow, the trio climbed in after him.

"What if it doesn't work, and one of us can't transform?" squeaked Peter.

"Shh," said James. "It'll work. And if it doesn't, we'll get the hell out of Dodge."

"What?" asked the two other boys.

"I learned the phrase in Muggle Studies," answered James smugly.

"Only one Muggle you'd like to study-Muggle-born, that is," snarked Sirius. "How many times have you asked her out using Muggle pickup lines?"

"Shut up. Anyway, let's agree to the plan-this first time, we stay in the Shack all night. If all goes well, we'll try outside next term."

They reached the entrance to the Shrieking Shack and opened the door. Remus sat on a tattered couch, staring miserably out the window, but jumped up when the door opened.

"You can't be here!" he shouted, panic etched onto his thin features. "Don't you understand how dangerous-in ten minutes or less I'll take any chance I can get to kill you all!"

Sirius tried to soothe him: "Calm down, Remus, we-"

"Calm down? Calm the bloody hell down when my three best mates have obviously gone suicidal? You need to leave, leave before the transformation takes hold!" He groaned, obviously in pain already. SIrius ached for his friend, knowing the pain must go deeper than even bone.

"Explaining obviously isn't working," said James cheerily, "so we might as well show you."

"Just GET OUT!" he roared, clutching his sides.

"But if we don't explain, how will he know that werewolf bites don't affect animals?" asked Sirius conversationally.

"Let's just do it!" said Peter anxiously. Sirius glanced at Remus, who was now hunched over in pain, then locked eyes with James and nodded.

This was only the fifth time Sirius had transformed since mastering the charm, so the sensation was still alien. It was as though everything inside him was liquifying, then resolidifying in a new form.

He bumped his wet nose into Remus's palm. "It's starting! You need to le-" Remus finally looked up. "What-Sirius? James? Peter? You... did this for-AAGH!"

With his newly acute hearing, Sirius heard bones snap and crunch sickeningly, and hurt for his friend as Remus's screams of pain became howls.

But soon, Sirius knew, the physical pain would be gone as his friend became the monster that haunted the nightmares of children-and, in Sirius's expert opinion, the bigots at the Ministry.

It didn't take long to discover the werewolf's perspective. He paid little mind to the rat that was Peter-no surprise there. He eyed Sirius cautiously, sniffed him deeply. They locked eyes and the wolf's hackles raised as he snarled. It was a threat, an assertion of dominance-so Sirius did what came naturally to him as a dog, and let out a low growl. At once, they pounced.

The werewolf was fierce, nearly rabid-unlike Sirius, who held back just enough to assure he didn't permanently maim his friend, the wolf had no such control.

But the dog's instincts took over-Sirius wouldn't be able to explain or intellectualize it later. He stopped thinking in words, stopped feeling the intricacies of human emotion. This was raw, this was dominance, this was passion. This was life. And the dog would fight for his.

Fur flew. The dog tasted blood, his own and the wolf's, and craved more of it. He lunged for the throat as the wolf did the same, and they ended up locking jaws. More blood filtered into each mouth.

Both canines went flying against the Shack walls as some unseen force rammed their sides. Dog and wolf looked over at the stag with the rat on its back, which seemed somehow to be glaring at both of them.

Sirius looked back at the wolf who was normally Remus. Their eyes met once again, and Sirius could sense the wolf's concession: in power, they were equals. Then the werewolf whined slightly and licked blood from Sirius's muzzle. Pack.

The stag beat his hooves against the ground in celebration; this caught the wolf's attention and he hunched down, ready to pounce.

Sirius walked calmly to stand before James. He hoped he could convey that this deer was not a snack, but a friend.

He turned his back on the wolf and hopped onto his hind legs, placing his paws on the stag's legs and brushing his head against its chest in affection. He looked back to Remus, and could tell he understood. Pack.

But the wolf still needed blood, still needed the fight. This time though, when he lunged at the dog, it was not to kill-but to play.


The moment Remus transformed back into a human, he was fast asleep. The three new Animagi transformed back to their human selves. James and Sirius had cuts all over, their clothes in tatters. Peter only had a few bumps and bruises-as a rat, he hadn't been able to "play" with the others and had spent most of his night on James's back.

"We'd better get back to the castle before Pomfrey catches us," said James.

And so the three left their worn, sleeping friend to lie across a tattered sofa cusion as his body recovered. A certain long-haired boy hesitated, glancing over his shoulder at the scarred young man he was leaving behind, and privately ached to rest beside him.

"Oy!" called James from somewhere up ahead. "You coming or are you gonna stare at naked Remus until Pomfrey comes in to get you expelled?"

Sirius beat down a blush before it could mar his cheeks, shook the thoughts from his head, and bounded forward.