23 June 1994

Remus frowned down at the Marauder's Map, which he had just spread across his desk. It was nearly sunset, which meant Buckbeak's execution was moments away. He and Minerva had initially planned on bringing a small group of staff members down to the grounds to support Hagrid's appeal, but Dumbledore had advised against the idea. Hagrid was in a fragile state as it was, and it wouldn't do him any favors to further jeopardize his standing with the Ministry.

Remus scanned the grounds on the map, quickly locating Hagrid's hut. And with a swoop of his stomach, he saw three dots—Harry Potter, Ronald Weasley, and Hermione Granger—crossing the winding pathway toward the gamekeeper's house.

Remus closed his eyes, releasing a slow breath through his teeth. Then, shaking his head, he watched as Harry, Hermione, and Ron shuffled into the little hut together.

For a moment, he just stared at the map. He knew he ought to report the three to Minerva, but something in his heart was telling him to wait. Surely—surely—Hagrid would send the three on their way. He was an emotional man, certainly, but Remus knew he had good sense.

As the minutes slipped by and the three teenagers hadn't budged, however, Remus decided he couldn't hold off on reporting them any longer. No sooner had he gotten to his feet that the door to Hagrid's hut swung open, and Harry, Hermione, and Ron began ambling up the grounds in the direction of the castle. But they weren't alone.

Remus gazed down at the Marauder's Map for several long moments, feeling numb. It was impossible—the map was surely malfunctioning—but in his heart of hearts, Remus already knew this wasn't true. It was Remus himself who had poured months into perfecting that damned Homonculous Charm.

Heart now pounding in his chest, Remus held his breath as the three third years moved through the grounds, past the pumpkin patch, toward the Whomping Willow. And with them, the fourth dot remained fixed, keeping pace, unchanging: Peter Pettigrew.

A sudden movement on the map caught Remus's attention—he snapped his gaze onto a fifth dot, moving quickly toward the other four. And now, Remus couldn't stifle a yell of alarm. Sirius Black was fast approaching—and in one fell swoop, he had leaped several yards forward, railroading Ronald Weasley and Peter Pettigrew down and dragging them away from the others—directly into the Whomping Willow.

Remus was only dimly aware of snatching his cloak up from his chair and stumbling out of his office. By the time his brain had caught up with his legs, he was halfway across the grounds. Gasping for air, he seized a broken branch from the ground and prodded the knot at the base of the Whomping Willow, immobilizing its branches. Then, he practically dove headfirst into the secret passageway in the roots.

He felt his way through the achingly familiar tunnel in darkness, his heart slamming against his ribs. His mind was furiously trying to piece together everything he'd seen in the last ten minutes. Peter was alive…Peter was alive…but that had to mean that Sirius was…

A sudden shrieking from above him nearly made Remus jump out of his skin. "WE'RE UP HERE! WE'RE UP HERE—SIRIUS BLACK—QUICK!"

Remus was running again. The door to the Shrieking Shack loomed before him, and he threw it open, bursting into the small room.

Ron was lying on the floor, his leg placed at a very odd angle, plainly broken. Hermione, trembling from head to foot, was crouched by the door. And finally, Remus looked at Harry, standing over a bloody, beaten Sirius with his wand pointed at the man's forehead. The sight made Remus ill.

"Expelliarmus!" Remus shouted, raising his wand—and the three teenagers' wands flew out of their hands; Remus caught them.

Slowly, he moved into the room, eyes only for Sirius. His old friend's once-striking features were waxy and gaunt—he looked less than human, skin stretched tightly across every bone. Swallowing heavily, Remus lifted his chin, gazing unblinkingly into Sirius's bright gray eyes. "Where is he, Sirius?"

Sirius stared at Remus for a long while, his expression vacant. But Remus could practically hear the gears turning in Sirius's head, the years of mistrust and trauma shifting and refocusing. At last, Sirius raised a steady hand and pointed at Ron. Remus turned and stared at the young boy, whose face was bloodless under his freckles. And finally, Remus saw it.

The bulge in the breast pocket of Ron's robes, fidgeting madly. The rat.

"But then…" Remus muttered, suddenly nauseous, turning back around to gaze intently at Sirius. It was just the two of them now; the room could have been empty but for them. "Why hasn't he shown himself before now? Unless—" he stopped short, breath catching, as the final piece clunked into place in his brain, "—unless he was the one…unless you switched…without telling me?"

Sirius's face twitched; he looked pained. But, slowly, jaw clenched, he nodded.

Remus's heart was floating upward, his chest tightening with a feeling he couldn't put words to. He couldn't see or hear anything over the ringing in his ears, the rush of exhilaration flooding his brain. Dropping his raised wand, he crossed the room in two strides and seized Sirius's hand, pulling the thin, waxy ghost of his best friend to his feet. Then, simultaneously, they stepped forward and grasped each other in a tight embrace.

"I DON'T BELIEVE IT!"

Remus jumped, releasing Sirius and looking around. Hermione, her expression half-enraged, half-anguished, was pointing an accusing finger at Remus. And for the first time since he'd entered the Shrieking Shack, Remus was suddenly aware that there were three others in the room—three others who, if Remus and Sirius didn't play these next moments precisely right, would never, ever see this reunion as anything other than sheer betrayal.

"Hermione—" Remus began, his voice tight.

"—YOU—AND HIM—!"

"Hermione, calm down—"

"I didn't tell anyone!" Hermione shrieked, wild-eyed. "I've been covering up for you—"

"Hermione, listen to me, please!" Remus shouted hoarsely, feeling lightheaded as a sudden wave of nausea swept over him. "I can explain—"

But Remus was cut off as Harry, shaking with fury, stepped forward. And the look on the boy's face made every word die in Remus's throat. "I trusted you!" Harry roared, his voice wavering out of control. "And all the time—you've been his friend!"

"You're wrong," Remus said agitatedly, his mind reeling. "I haven't been Sirius's friend, but I am now—let me explain—"

"NO!" Hermione screamed, tears streaming down her cheeks. "Harry, don't trust him. He's been helping Black get into the castle—he wants you dead, too. He—he's a werewolf!"

There was a ringing silence. Every eye in the room latched onto Remus. Behind him, Sirius inhaled sharply. But bizarrely, Hermione's harsh accusation acted like a tonic—despite Ron's and Harry's horrified expressions, Remus felt calmed, in control of his senses for the first time, as he gazed at the fearful young witch in front of him.

"Not at all up to your usual standard, Hermione," he said quietly. "Only one out of three, I'm afraid. I have not been helping Sirius get into the castle, and I certainly don't want Harry dead…" He swallowed. "But I won't deny that I am a werewolf."

Ron made a sudden attempt to climb to his feet, but his broken leg gave out from under him, and he buckled with a moan of pain. Wincing, Remus took a step toward him—but Ron choked out, "Get away from me, werewolf!"

Remus froze, his stomach plummeting. At last, with the greatest effort it had ever cost him, he forced his lips into a smile and turned back to Hermione. "How long have you known?"

"Ages," Hermione whispered tremulously. "Since I did Professor Snape's essay…"

"He'll be delighted," Remus said coldly. "He assigned that essay hoping someone would realize what my symptoms meant. Did you check the lunar chart and realize that I was always ill at the full moon? Or did you realize that the boggart changed into the moon when it saw me?"

"Both," Hermione said in a small voice.

Remus laughed gruffly, averting his eyes. "You're the cleverest witch of your age I've ever met, Hermione."

"I'm not," Hermione said quietly. "If I'd been a bit cleverer, I'd have told everyone what you are."

"But they already know," Remus said with a rueful grimace. "At least, the staff do."

"Dumbledore hired you when he knew you were a werewolf?" Ron demanded, eyes widening. "Is he mad?"

"Some of the staff thought so," Remus said in a low voice. "He had to work very hard to convince certain teachers that I'm trustworthy—"

"AND HE WAS WRONG!" Harry shouted—so suddenly that Remus jumped. "YOU'VE BEEN HELPING HIM ALL THE TIME!"

Harry was pointing at Sirius, who had crossed the room to the four-poster bed and sank down onto it, burying his face in his shaking hands. Hermione's frizzy ginger cat darted across the room and leaped onto the bed next to him, purring softly as it curled up in his lap.

Remus stared at Sirius for a moment. Then, he turned back to Harry. "I have not been helping Sirius," Remus said shortly. "If you'll give me a chance, I'll explain. Look—" He reached into his robes and with drew Harry's, Ron's and Hermione's wands. Quickly separating them, he threw each wand back to its owner. "There," Remus said, stowing his own wand away in his belt and raising his hands. "You're armed, we're not. Now will you listen?"

Harry, Ron, and Hermione exchanged stunned glances, plainly speechless.

Finally, it was Harry who broke the silence. "If you haven't been helping him," he spat, with another hateful glance over his shoulder at Sirius, "how did you know he was here?"

"The map," Remus said immediately. "The Marauder's Map. I was in my office, examining it—"

"You know how to work it?" Harry said disbelievingly.

"Of course I know how to work it," Remus said briskly, waving a hand. "I helped write it. I'm Moony—that was my friends' nickname for me at school."

"You wrote—?"

"The important thing is, I was watching it carefully this evening, because I had an idea that you, Ron, and Hermione might try and sneak out of the castle to visit Hagrid before his hippogriff was executed," Remus said, beginning to pace the length of the cramped room. "And I was right, wasn't I? You might have been wearing your father's old cloak, Harry—"

"How d'you know about the cloak?" Harry asked, sounding incredulous.

"The number of times I saw James disappearing under it," Remus said, waving an impatient hand again. "The point is, even if you're wearing an Invisibility Cloak, you still show up on the Marauder's Map. I watched you cross the grounds and enter Hagrid's hut. Twenty minutes later, you left Hagrid, and set off back toward the castle. But you were now accompanied by somebody else."

"What?" Harry demanded. "No, we weren't!"

"I couldn't believe my eyes," Remus murmured, pacing faster. "I thought the map must be malfunctioning. How could he be with you?"

"No one was with us!" said Harry.

"And then, I saw another dot, moving fast toward you, labeled Sirius Black. I saw him collide with you—I watched as he pulled two of you into the Whomping Willow—"

"One of us!" Ron cut in furiously.

"No, Ron," Remus said, stopping in his tracks and looking Ron straight in the eye. "Two of you."

Ron spluttered, but Remus cut him off.

"Do you think I could have a look at the rat?" he asked evenly.

"Wh-what?" Ron stammered, plainly baffled. "What's Scabbers got to do with it?"

"Everything," Remus said. "Could I see him, please?"

Ron opened and closed his mouth, turning wildly to look at Hermione. But when she just stared back at him, speechless, he put a hand inside his robes and withdrew the rat, which was flailing desperately; Ron seized his long hairless tail and dragged him onto his lap before he could escape. Next to Ron, Hermione's cat jumped up on Sirius's lap and hissed angrily.

Remus stepped closer to Ron, gazing at the rat in utter astonishment. It was unmistakable—every marking—every hair, so familiar—

"What?" Ron asked in a fearful voice, holding the animal closer to him. "What's my rat got to do with anything?"

"That's not a rat," Sirius croaked, his gray eyes glinting.

Ron tightened his grip on the animal, going pale. "What d'you mean—of course he's a rat—"

"No, he's not," Remus said quietly, still gazing down at the animal. "He's a wizard."

"An Animagus," Sirius spat, "by the name of Peter Pettigrew."

The longest silence yet unfolded over the tiny room, as Ron, Harry, and Hermione stared from Sirius to Remus in sheer disbelief.

"You're both mental," Ron sputtered.

"Ridiculous," Hermione said feebly.

"Peter Pettigrew's dead!" Harry exclaimed. "He killed him twelve years ago!" He pointed at Sirius, who gave a fitful twitch.

"I meant to," Sirius barred his teeth, "but little Peter got the better of me—not this time, though!" And with a yelp, Hermione's cat jerked off Sirius's lap as Sirius lunged toward Peter; Ron snatched the rat away and bellowed in pain as Sirius landed squarely on his broken leg.

"Sirius, NO!" Remus shouted, hurtling forward and forcibly dragging Sirius away from Ron. "WAIT! You can't do it just like that—they need to understand—we've got to explain—"

"We can explain afterwards!" Sirius growled, trying to throw Remus off, but Remus held tight to his friend. Peter was now squealing piteously, scratching at Ron's face and neck.

"They've—got—a—right—to—know—everything!" Remus said between gritted teeth, tightening his hands around Sirius's upper arms. Despite his skeletal appearance, his old friend was surprisingly strong. "Ron's kept him as a pet! There are parts of it even I don't understand! And Harry—you owe Harry the truth, Sirius!"

At once, Sirius stopped struggling, though he kept his bitter gaze fixed on the rat, who was clamped tightly under Ron's scratched and bleeding hands. "All right, then," Sirius said gruffly. "Tell them whatever you like. But make it quick, Remus. I want to commit the murder I was imprisoned for…"

"You're nutters, both of you," Ron said in a deeply unsettled voice, looking round at Harry and Hermione. "I've had enough of this. I'm off."

He tried to heave himself up on his good leg, but Remus raised his wand, pointing it at the rat.

"You're going to hear me out, Ron," he said quietly. "Just keep a tight hold on Peter while you listen."

"HE'S NOT PETER, HE'S SCABBERS!" Ron shouted, his face red with anger. He tried to force the rat back into his front pocket, but it was fighting too hard; Ron swayed dangerously, and Harry grabbed his arms and pushed him back down.

Then, Harry turned to Remus. "There were witnesses who saw Pettigrew die," he said coolly. "A whole street full of them—"

"They didn't see what they thought they saw!" Sirius snarled, still watching Peter fervently.

"Everyone thought Sirius killed Peter," Remus told Harry earnestly. "I believed it myself—until I saw the map tonight. Because the Marauder's Map never lies. Peter's alive. Ron's holding him, Harry."

Harry and Ron looked at each other, and Remus knew from their expressions that they did not believe a word Remus or Sirius had said. At that very moment, Sirius next to him gave a convulsive twitch in Ron's direction, and Remus shot him a warning glare.

"But Professor Lupin…" Hermione said in a small voice, speaking for the first time in several minutes. Remus looked at her, taking it as a good sign that she was addressing him as "Professor" again. "Scabbers can't be Pettigrew…it just can't be true, you know it can't…"

"Why can't it be true?" Remus asked her, almost smiling at her determined expression.

"Because…because people would know if Peter Pettigrew had been an Animagus," she burst out. "We did Animagi in class with Professor McGonagall, and I looked them up when I did my homework—the Ministry of Magic keeps tabs on witches and wizards who can become animals. There's a register showing what animal they become, and their markings and things…and I went and looked Professor McGonagall up on the register, and there have been only seven Animagi this century, and Pettigrew's name wasn't on the list…"

Remus blinked at Hermione. Then, unable to help himself, he began to laugh, utterly amazed by the sheer logic and composure displayed by the fourteen-year-old in front of him. "Right again, Hermione," he said. "But the Ministry never knew that there used to be three unregistered Animagi running around Hogwarts."

"If you're going to tell them the story, get a move on, Remus," Sirius growled at Remus, eyes still locked on the twitching rat. "I've waited twelve years, I'm not going to wait much longer."

"All right…but you'll need to help me, Sirius," Remus told him with a significant look. "I only know how it began—" he broke off, swiveling around, as a loud creak came from behind him. The bedroom door had suddenly swung open. Remus stared at it for a moment, frowning. Then, he stepped forward and peered out the door frame. "No one there…"

"This place is haunted," Ron gulped.

"It's not," Remus said, eyebrows knitting together as he gazed out into the landing, which remained empty. "The Shrieking Shack was never haunted. The screams and howls the villagers used to hear were made by me." Taking a deep breath and pushing his hair out of his eyes, Remus stepped back into the room and faced Harry, Ron and Hermione. "That's where all of this starts—with my becoming a werewolf. None of this could have happened if I hadn't been bitten…and if I hadn't been so foolhardy…"

And so, Remus told them everything. About being bitten, about never dreaming he would be able to attend Hogwarts, and about how Dumbledore's decency had changed everything for him. He told them about the Whomping Willow and the terrible, lonely nights he used the secret tunnel to travel from the castle grounds deep into the heart of Hogsmeade. And finally, he told them about his best friends, about how they refused to leave his side, instead choosing to attempt the most dangerous magical transformation in the world to protect him.

Harry, Ron, and Hermione listened to his story with rapt attention. And for the first time that evening, Remus saw Sirius pause in the act of viciously glaring at Peter to turn and watch Harry intently instead.

"…All this year, I have been battling with myself, wondering whether I should tell Dumbledore that Sirius was an Animagus," Remus said bitterly. "But I didn't do it. Why? Because I was too cowardly. It would have meant admitting that I'd betrayed his trust while I was at school, admitting that I'd led others along with me—and Dumbledore's trust has meant everything to me. He let me into Hogwarts as a boy, and he gave me a job when I have been shunned all my adult life, unable to find paid work because of what I am. And so I convinced myself that Sirius was getting into the school using dark arts he learned from Voldemort, that being an Animagus had nothing to do with it…so, in a way, Snape's been right about me all along."

"Snape?" Sirius asked harshly, tearing his eyes away from Harry to look at Remus. "What's Snape got to do with it?"

"He's here, Sirius," Remus told him darkly. "He's teaching here as well."

Remus glanced at Harry, Ron, and Hermione. "Professor Snape was at school with us. He fought very hard against my appointment to the Defense Against the Dark Arts job. He has been telling Dumbledore all year that I am not to be trusted. He has his reasons. You see, Sirius here played a trick on him which nearly killed him, a trick which involved me—"

Sirius interrupted Remus with a contemptuous snort. "It served him right," he said derisively. "Sneaking around, trying to find out what we were up to…hoping he could get us expelled…"

Remus cut Sirius off with a glare. Then, turning back to the other three, he explained how Sirius had sent Snape into the Whomping Willow after him, and how, if not for James's highly risky intervention, Snape might have been killed. As Remus spoke, his gaze wandered back to Sirius, who had returned to watching Peter through hollowed eyes. That night had been the only night in their entire friendship that Remus had ever questioned Sirius's base principles—and years later, when Sirius was captured and imprisoned for murder, it was to that night that Remus had frequently returned, wondering if that had been the only time in the many years he'd known Sirius that he'd seen his friend's truest self…

"So that's why Snape doesn't like you?" Harry asked slowly, once Remus had finished speaking. "Because he thought you were in on the joke?"

"That's right," said a cold voice from behind Remus, and Remus swiveled around just in time to see Snape himself step out from under James's old Invisibility Cloak, his wand level with Remus's chest.

Author's Note:

Man, it's HARD to rewrite chapters from the book and really capture everything from another perspective.

This is the first of two pivotal chapters — Reunion I and II. The second is forthcoming. :)

Ari