Author's Note: With thanks to my lone reviewer so far: expiry 4.23.

I am playing fast and loose with canon here. Voldemort was defeated around the time of Harry's fifth year (no one seems to like the last two books, and I find that sad.) It is now around five years later, and most characters are still alive. Except Cedric. Sorry!

Remus Lupin's Diary

By Werewolves of London

January 5th

Weight: who knows? Cigarettes: 31. Alcohol units: Loads. Moon: still on wax

Went out on job hunt in best robes (well, they don't have TOO many patches.) Is not my fault that it was all over papers about me being kicked out of last paid employment for being werewolf. Curse you, Lucius Malfoy! Curse you, I say!

First stop was the Job Centre in Diagon Alley. After talking to careers advisor in my most businesslike and assertive manner, three jobs were offered to me: Flobberworm farmer, wigmaker or galley slave. All part-time to fit around my "difficulties." Said would think about it and owl back before the weekend. All three jobs suck, but then a lot of people have crappy jobs. And being a galley slave doesn't sound so bad. Living on boat might be fun. Resolve to make mega-Galleons and devote life to the cause of werewolf rights.

Later went to Leaky Cauldron for drinks with the gang: Sirius, Tonks and Charlie Weasley. We ordered Chardonnay and as usual got talking about how all men (and dragons too, if you're Charlie) are bastards.

"Men!" Sirius growled. "This is the 21st century, when everything changes and you've got to be ready – and they still think we're going to put up with their fuckwittage."

"What's fuckwittage, Sirius?" said Tonks.

He thumped the table and stood up. "Fuckwittage! The art of being an emotional fuckwit. Like when they don't return your owls, or they shag other people behind your back, or they refuse to go on mini-breaks, or forget to flush the toilet … that kind of thing."

"Oh."

Charlie lit another cigarette and didn't say anything. It's been hard on him since his brother Bill turned into a Smug Married.

January 6th

Top secret Order meeting. You may be wondering why the Order's still going even though You-Know-Who is dead. Cannot reveal details even to you, dearest diary.

Snape was there. Hah! Snape. Add that to the list of New Year's Resolutions: Will not flirt with, fantasise about or even THINK about Snape in romantic/sexual context. He's a grumpy old git with hygiene issues, who hates me and my friends because, er, we almost killed him.

January 14th

Forgive me for not writing in diary while moon was full. Wolfsbane Potion does enable me to keep own mind while trapped in wolf's body, but YOU try holding a quill in vast hairy paws.

January 17th

Weight: not enough, cigarettes: 23 (v.g.), alcohol units: 7 (not v.g.) moon: no longer Full

Have agreed to take up galley slave position starting on February 1st. A galley, for those with a small vocabulary, is the kitchen on a ship. Not a cruise ship, it's a Ministry ship docked in Portsmouth Harbour. Will be responsible for cooking and general slavery, and locked in hold when moon is full. Ministry not as hostile to werewolves as it was in the days of You-Know-Who, but will have to watch steps v. carefully if am to keep this job and not get fired again.

Sirius holding goodbye party for me on the 31st. Have nothing to wear.