James Potter stood in the corridor outside the prefects' lounge, locked its door, and looked left and right to make sure his classmates were gone. He was alone with Lily Evans, lifting her off the ground, spinning them in a circle, her feet flying out behind her, as he kissed her.

She laughed into his mouth. "What are you doing?"

"You know what I'm doing," he laughed back. "You agreed to marry me. And we can't tell anyone, but that doesn't mean we can't celebrate."

She tangled her fingers in his ridiculous bedhead. "Secretly married at seventeen - "

"Eighteen, after next week - "

She brushed her nose against his. "I wouldn't do this for anyone but you, James Potter."

He kissed her once more, hard enough to make a smacking noise, before setting her feet back on the floor. "I should hope so."

Even though she was standing on her own again, Lily left her arms looped around his neck. She blinked up at him, remembering her new prophecy, a small, personal one that didn't produce an orb but meant the world to her all the same. She thought of their son, the one who would look like James. It was terrifying, and marvelous, and too much to mention at the moment. She would save it.

"What about Dumbledore?" she said. "I can't tell my parents, or Petty. But we have to tell him. He told us so."

James gave a sharp nod, letting her lead him away, down the corridor to the staircase. "Right. If we go now, we can get him before he leaves for breakfast."

The meeting with the headmaster was subdued, warm but grave. As he sent them away, he rose and dropped a hand on each of their shoulders. "This," he said, "is truly good news for everyone."

When James came back to the dormitory where the lads were sleeping off the last of their Hodag powder exposure, He was still grinning, sitting on the edge of his bed, pulling off his socks, going through the motions of going to bed though he was too happy to sleep.

Sirius rolled over to face him, rubbing his eyes in the daylight. "You're finally back. And you're unnaturally happy."

"Not really," James said. "Most natural thing in the world to be so happy on a morning like this."

Remus was rolling over as well, his brows drawn into a question. "Like this? Like what? What happened? Is it - Lily?"

Peter flipped over too. "Lily? Stars, James, you didn't - did you?"

Sirius threw a pillow at James's head, grinning and yelling at the same time. "You - in the prefects' lounge? In the same room where the rest of us were sleeping? You got 'round the spells and you - in an all but a public place?"

James threw the pillow back. "What are you on about?"

"You and Lily," Remus called over their rising voices, beginning to question James again but unable to find any words. He scrubbed his face with his hands. "I knew this soulmate thing was getting out of hand."

"I do not agree," James shouted back at him.

"Come on, James," Remus tried again. "Don't tell us that you took advantage of our Hodag accident to use last night to - to…"

"To take her innocence?" Peter supplied.

James's face flushed red. "You all think - ? No, I did not."

The lads fell back in their beds, laughing and hooting. "Well, what's happened then?" Sirius said.

James plucked off his glasses and set them on his bedside table. "I hardly feel like telling you now - "

"Sorry, James. We're sorry," Remus said, barely not laughing. "Now tell us your news."

"It is Lily, actually," he began, sitting up. "She says she'll marry me."

Peter whistled, no laughter at all. "Wow."

Sirius growled. "Knew it. Didn't I say?"

Remus took a deep breath. "I'm sure you had a good reason for asking her when and where you did. I can't imagine what it would be, but..."

"It had nothing to do with reason," James said. "I woke up on the sofa, and the light of the sunrise was all golden, and I saw her lying next to me, watching me and whispering sweet things while I slept. I didn't have my glasses on, but I could see her perfectly. It felt like the best magic ever, and I just - asked her," he said, falling back on his pillow.

Remus stretched out one long arm, managing to bridge the gap between their beds to pat James's elbow. "You're a lucky man," he said. "And I know it won't make a lot of sense to most people, but it's what Dumbledore wants. It'll keep you safe. Lily too. It'll be alright."

"What about your parents?" Peter asked. "Your parents were weird about your future with Lily, weren't they?"

James gave a loud sigh. "They said soulmates have to pay for their happiness with other kinds of suffering. They just wanted us to know that. Though Dad was pretty sad about it."

"At least he'll get his grandchild," Sirius said, just shy of sneering.

James didn't deny it. He did change the subject. "I'm not worried about Mum and Dad. They're from our world and old enough to be from another time when this sort of thing wasn't so strange. It's Lily's family that's going to want me flogged for this. Especially her mother. That's the scariest part."

Peter huffed. "I thought the scariest part was the Dark Lord coming 'round."

It was his turn to be struck with pillows. "Since when did you start calling Tom Riddle that?" Sirius demanded.

"Call him what? What did I say?" Peter asked.

"Just watch your mouth, alright?" Sirius warned. "He attacked James, chased him right up into the sky. If there was any doubt whether he's dangerous to us, there isn't any now."

"That's a part of all this," James said. "The biggest part for Dumbledore. Lily and I are stronger and safer together. I can't argue with that. I've lived through it once already."

Sirius was sighing now, his eyes fixed on the ceiling above his bed.

"So a wedding - when will it happen?" Remus resumed.

James pulled the covers up to his chin. "Soon. Before the Valentines Hogsmeade trip, I imagine. Dumbledore doesn't want us leaving the school grounds again without the protection of a proper bond between us. He's taken charge of it."

Peter frowned. "That's odd, isn't it?"

"I'm sure it's fine," Remus said. "Trust him. Everything will work out for the best."

Sirius grumbled and turned in his bed. He had no reason to argue, but it still didn't sound right to him to be so influenced by a teacher - or anyone else, for that matter. Not that James needed much influencing when it came to getting closer to Lily Evans. He was completely smitten, buying into the soulmate concept completely.

Remus fluffed his pillow. "Yes, and congratulations, mate. If you're destined to be with this woman, you have my support in starting life with her now."

"Mine too," Peter said.

Sirius felt their pressure even with his back turned to them. His voice began as a groan but resolved into words. "Mine as well, I suppose. Stars know you'll need all the help you can get."

Remus was satisfied. "Well then," he said. "Rest up while you can, lads. I'm sure you all know what tonight is."

James looked to the window. It was daylight, the sky clear and light blue, but he knew the cycles of the moon like the days of the week. Tonight, the moon would be full. Wise, gentle, impeccably reasonable Remus Lupin would become Moony the Werewolf.

For the first time in years, James thought about spending the full moon somewhere other than with Remus. The lads had left for the tunnel to the shack already, but he was lingering at the castle, outside in the chilly twilight, leaning against the wall, Lily Evans standing between his feet, her face turned up, waiting for him to kiss her goodbye.

"No, go on. I don't want to disrupt them," she was saying, her hands inside his cloak, smoothing his tie against his chest. "Go on as you always have. At least until the end of the school year."

He brushed his lips over her eyelid. "How am I going to leave you to spend the full moons with the lads once I'm your husband? Hmm?" He kissed her temple, descending along her jaw, teasing, veering away from her mouth just as she was parting her lips to receive him. "How can I keep running around all night knowing you're at home in bed alone…"

"That reminds me," she said, trying to keep her tone calm and even as he kissed her throat. "We need to make sure Dumbledore knows it is not alright for me to simply move into your bunk with the rest of the lads. We need a room for just the two of us."

"Worst case, we can meet up in the Head Boy/Girl office," James said. He spoke the words against her collarbone. It should have been playful, but instead she was cross.

"Meet up? Did you say meet up, James Potter?"

He straightened his posture, alarmed. "I just meant that whenever we want to - "

"I know what you meant," she said. "I am not marrying you so we can meet up like Sirius and Marlene when they want an itch scratched. I want a home with you, even if it's secret and tucked away in a school dormitory somewhere. We need a home, in case our little 'and' - in case he comes."

James had taken her face in his hands. "Yes, you're right," he was saying. "I'm sorry. That sounded crass. I want a place for us too. Of course I do."

Off in the distance, from the bottom of the hill where the enchanted willow grew, a dog barked.

"That's Padfoot," James said. "If I'm going to go, it has to be now. Promise you won't stay mad, Lily."

She hopped to hold him around the neck. "I'm not mad. Maybe a bit tense. Worried. I know he's Remus and everything but - it's still frightening to think of you with him all night, delectable slab of choice venison that you are."

James rumbled a laugh against her cheek "Three years of this and he's never tried to eat me. Remember, he's not a wolf, he's a werewolf. He only bites people."

"You be careful of that too," she said, finally managing to kiss his mouth before letting him go.

James arrived at the shack with barely enough time to transfigure himself before Remus's harrowing, involuntary transformation began.

"Hurry," Sirius said as James came through the passageway. "He's extra tormented tonight. Maybe it's the sleep deprivation. I don't know. Something's different, though I can't think what's changed for him. Is it because Tom Riddle came to Hogsmeade?"

James frowned. "Maybe. Look at him pacing." They were spying through a cracked bedroom door at Remus, barefoot, his clothes already removed and folded neatly on an ottoman. He was wrapped in a blanket he would throw off once the transformation was truly underway. All the emotions Remus kept controlled in his human form were amplified at his transformation. They didn't just rise to the surface. They took over completely.

"He keeps knocking things over, tossing them about," Peter said, "like he's looking for something he's lost."

"No more time to sort it out," Sirius said. "He's about to turn. Keep close, lads. He's going to run us hard tonight."

Sirius was right. As soon as Moony had fully emerged, he clawed open the door and bounded into the forest. His frantic searching behaviour continued, sniffing the air, clawing through the forest undergrowth, tearing with his teeth.

The animagi were close behind at first, but the chase wore on for hours. Moony's strength and speed, his stamina were positively supernatural. They had tamed him somewhat in the past two years, and he had learned to curb his abilities for their sakes. But they hadn't gone away. Sometimes they forgot that even as a werewolf, a shred of Remus always endured, somewhere deep, and it held Moony back, keeping him near them.

But not tonight. He tore away, evading them, working his abilities to their fullest. Late in the night, he still hadn't found what he had been searching for. Frustrated and sick of their interfering, Moony vaulted over Prongs even as he reared up to block the way. Padfoot sprung after him but Moony had jumped up and into the trees, where Prongs and Padfoot couldn't follow. Wormtail did his best, scurrying behind, following him up a tree trunk until Moony made the leap from one treetop to another, too far for a rat.

The animagi scrambled beneath the trees, following the sounds of creaking branches as Moony raced away, over their heads. He gave a howl, elated, as if to announce he'd outrun them. What he chased was something none of them could sense, something he alone knew, and wanted.

Sirius leapt back into human form. "What is he tracking? There's no trail."

"I don't know," James said, human and stooped over, breathing hard. "It's got to be something supernatural, out of our range."

"It's got to be something good," Sirius said. "Good to Moony, at any rate. Better than anything. I've never seen him like this."

Peter was climbing out of a tree. "The moon is nearly set. He can't have more than half an hour left."

"He's going to come out of it in the wild," Sirius said, pulling at his hair. "He's going to wake up naked and freezing and lost in the woods by himself somewhere."

James shook his head. "Won't he know by now to get back to the shack before he changes? We've been leading him back there for years, month after month. He'll know by now, won't he? It should be second nature to him."

"He wasn't making for the direction of the shack last I saw him," Peter said. "Looked more like he was headed to the lake."

"The lake," Sirius repeated, still looking up into the now empty trees. "That will stop him in his tracks. But what if something's led him away on purpose? What if the supernatural trail is actually a lure. And he's gone charging into a trap?"

James stood gaping, scared. "Who would know to lure him that way? Whoever did it would have to know he's - "

"Registered," Sirius finished. "Anyone with access to the werewolf registry would know."

"I say we go back to the shack and wait for him there," Peter said. "If it's a trap, it could be meant for all of us, and we won't be able to help him if we're caught as well."

James linked his fingers behind his head. "I hate it," he said. "But Pete's right. What else can we do? There's no sign of him."

"The lake," Sirius said. "First we'll check the lakeshore."

As the lads fretted in the heart of the forest, Moony had indeed followed the supernatural scent trail to lakeshore. He let himself down from the treetops, the pads of his feet and his supple limbs absorbing the shock and sound of his downward spring.

There she was, close enough for him to see as well as smell her now. He stood behind her where she stood outlined in the light of the full moon, the hoary ice grown over the lakeside plants glittering around her. She was so near the icy water, her feet might have been standing in it. He couldn't tell and didn't care.

Her skin was not just reflecting white light but emanating it, every contour and detail of her plainly visible to him though she hadn't seen him yet. She wore a dress like a ballet dancer's, a long, full skirt, tight sleeves to the elbows, and a plunging at the back, bare nearly to her waist in spite of the cold. Her cloak lay set aside in the grass as she peered into the depths of the lake.

There was no need to think, no choice to make. His instinct drove him forward, raising a growl in his throat. At the sound, she turned in time to see him pounce. She couldn't help but cry out, a long white arm thrown over her face to ward him off. He swiped at it, one claw snagging her flesh, scratching it, the scent of her blood in the air now.

Her teeth were bared and her eyes were on his, golden and flashing. She shrieked into his face, not a human sound.

Yes, this could only be her. He'd found her.

His arms were thin, covered in dense brown hair, and so strong. He took hold of her and she shrieked again, her luminous body trembling in his arms. He held tighter, his muzzle against her neck as a pair of wings, webbed with fine skin, unfurled from her bare back.

He stood to his full height, lifting her, exhilarated, his head thrown back and howling. As his call died away, her hands clamped on either side of his head, her eyes blazing, the wound on her arm visible to him. His tall, pointed ears twitched at the sight of it and he did what he would have done if it had been his own wound. He licked it, cleaned it with his mouth with firm, deliberate pressure, moisture, and searing heat. She tipped her head against his as he bent over her wound, her long, silky, golden-white hair falling over his ears and head, wafting against his face, a feeling the Remus inside him already knew.

The familiarity of it merged with the sound of a distant call, answering his howl, the call of a large dog. And he remembered. The moon was low and he needed to be somewhere. It was vital, urgent. When he set off, she was still in his arms, bending her legs to clamp herself around his body, her face in the crook of his shoulder, her teeth against his hide, holding, not quite biting.

As they neared the shack, his speed was slowing, his arms tiring, head aching. He passed a clawed hand over her back to find her wings were gone.

There was language to his thoughts again. What in the stars was happening?

He pulled her body away from his, leaving her staggering to find her footing on the frozen ground as he rushed away, alone. All that mattered now was reaching the door to the shack, getting behind it. Clothes - the hair covering his skin was fading, and in a moment he'd need clothes. She couldn't see him, not like this. He bounded up the stairs, too large, too wolfish for the house, crashing into the bedroom, and diving under the bedclothes.

With a moment more, the moon had set. Moony was gone and Remus was left to himself, shaking and panting, sick and exhausted, his smooth human skin slicked with sweat but cold. It had been so long since he'd transformed back into himself without the lads nearby, waiting to reassure him, to shelter him, to make it almost jolly. He'd forgotten how sad it could be, to come so close to having to face Moony, especially tonight, when he couldn't dismiss the feeling that he'd lost something precious by changing back.

Over the noise of his breath, he heard footsteps on the stairs, not the clamorous rush of the lads finding him, but just one set of feet, walking as if on tiptoe.

He pulled the covers higher over his bare, shivering shoulders as Narcissa Black stepped into the room. She lingered by the doorway, not able to look at him yet. He should have been surprised to find her following him here, her skin flushed with cold, her hair wild, broken twigs and dead leaves caught in it. But he wasn't. Of course she was here, standing in the shrieking shack late in January during a full moon, without a cloak, hugging herself for warmth.

"I wondered if I'd see you," she began, her eyes on the floorboards she traced with her toe. "Tonight, at the full moon. I knew it was possible, but I wasn't counting on it. I'd gone as a Veela to look in the lake for the merpeople by the light of the moon, like you said. But if I'm honest, what I wanted to see most of all was you, in your other form, and then again once you'd changed back and could talk to me about what you saw in me tonight."

"Your arm," he said, distracted. "Did I…" He couldn't finish.

"Yes, but it was an accident," she said, holding her arm out in the dim dawn light, looking at the scratch herself. "You took me by surprise on the lakeshore. I lashed out and you grazed my arm."

"By the stars, Black. I never would have - "

"I know. You apologized."

He scoffed. "I can't apologize when I'm like that. And even if I could, I wouldn't."

"But you did," she said. "You cleaned it for me. And I knew what you meant by it."

Cleaned it - after a moment he figured out what she was saying. It was coming back to him, the memory of finding her at the lake, taking her away, bringing her here to keep her for himself. He gulped past the lump in his throat. "I'm sorry."

"Yes, I know." She moved, slowly to the end of the bed and sat on the corner opposite his feet. After a night awake in the forest, transformed into her Veela form, she was exhausted, cold, and wanted little more than to crawl to the top of the bed, lay her head down on the empty pillow there, and sleep.

He seemed to know, and muttered a spell to summon a blanket from the cupboard, tossing it to her to wrap around herself. He wouldn't invite her to sleep here, but he wouldn't watch her shiver for another second either.

"You didn't kill me," she said as she curled up and tucked the edge of the blanket around her feet.

He shook his head. "No, we only kill humans, and you, well, you're - "

"You saw it then?" she said, suddenly energized, leaning forward, straying onto his side of the mattress.

"I saw something."

"What was it like?"

He sighed, shutting his eyes, looking back into Moony's mind, fighting to remember more. "I can only recall images. Golden eyes, wings, and your skin...Anyone would have been able to see it."

"But they don't," she said. "I've tried to call it forth for ordinary wizards. I've made myself exactly as I was tonight before. I've tried it with my sisters, and with a few men I trust. Lucius, and Severus, and my cousin Regulus. I did it just as I did tonight, and they saw nothing but me pulling faces."

Remus's head was shaking, denying. "They're having you on, then," he said. "I don't remember what happened but I do know what I saw. You were transformed. If you hadn't been, I'd have killed you. No, they're lying, or blind. I saw you. You were…" Again, he couldn't finish.

She nodded, her head bowed, chin sunk below the hem of the blanke. "They're not lying. They're just not like us," she said. "Was I a monster? Tell me."

His eyes were open again, but fixed on the ceiling. "Monster? It couldn't have been that bad. Moony brought you back here with him, after all."

"Moony?"

"Me. Werewolf me. Moony."

"Couldn't have been that bad?" she repeated. "You say it as if you don't remember."

His face blanched, and if she knew him better, she would know it was the tell of his lying. "I told you. I can remember images, but not what happened."

Let her go on from there, as if he didn't remember the softness of her skin against his tongue, the tang of her blood, the sharp edge of her teeth on his hide as he ran with her through the trees, embracing her, so precious, taking her away. Let her go on without knowing that the sight of her back, white against the black of the lake, was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen.

She cleared her throat. "What did you - what did Moony want with me?"

At this, Remus's blanched face coloured red. It was clear what Moony wanted, clear but unspeakable. If he'd found her sooner, not so close to dawn, if he hadn't heard Padfoot calling to him from afar…

Remus forced a cough to hide the shiver running through his body. "You've played fetch with a dog before, haven't you?" he said. "They chase things just for the having of them."

"Yes, they chew them up and then let them go so they can chase them down again," she finished.

He shrugged. "I can't explain him any better. Moony isn't something I understand well. His heart isn't always mine. And his mind is never mine."

She hummed, the blanket was warm enough to reshape her tiredness into sleepiness. She cast another longing look at the pillow beside Remus's head before she blinked away the impulse to lie next to him and sleep. "You don't remember what I said to Moony when you - when he found me?"

He smirked. This part was true. "Moony's not one for conversation. Whatever you said would have sounded to him like crying or screaming, possibly laughing. Or so people who know him tell me."

"People? Which people know him?"

As if in answer, the door to the shack crashed open. The lads had come. They were calling his name, storming upstairs.

Narcissa was on her feet, and at the same moment, Remus sat up in bed, the covers falling to his waist, baring his thin, pale torso but he was too panicked to be embarrassed. "Go!" he said. "Through that exit Floo there. The password is Wormtail. Go on!"

The acrid smell of Floo powder still hung in the air as the lads tumbled into the room. No one mentioned it. Maybe they hadn't noticed.

"There he is," Sirius said, falling on the bed, rolling into the blanket Narcissa had just shed.

"Good old Moony," James said, collapsing across the foot of the bed. "You did make it back here on your own."

"Terribly sorry about the wild night, lads," Remus said. Peter had tossed a jumper at him and he was now pulling it over his head. "I must be more agitated than I knew about something."

"Yes, well, we were out of our minds with worry," James said, punching at Remus's leg through the covers. "Imagining you raging into some Death Eater trap."

Remus scoffed as he stood up to pull on his trousers. "They've no interest in me. Their werewolf quota is full, I'm sure. It's the rest of you who need to worry."

Sirius smirked. "I don't know about that. But we do know it wasn't Death Eaters you were after tonight."

Remus's hands froze, caught in the motion of fastening his belt. "Moony," he said. "I was after nothing tonight. I can't speak to what Moony might have - "

His words cut short when Peter draped a long swath of black fabric around his neck. It was heavy, like a Hogwarts cloak, but not his. The fabric was finer than anything he'd ever worn, fully-lined with pale green silk, fragrant with narcissus flowers. He crushed a handful of it in his fist, speechless.

"Found this by the lake," Sirius said. "Near a patch of snow deep enough to hold a footprint - yours. No blood or signs of a struggle, so I assume the owner of the cloak survives."

Remus answered with only a nod.

Peter reached for the cloak again, leaving it on Remus's back but turning to the green lining and the monogram sewn over the inside pocket.

"A bit surprised to see the Black family crest stitched into it," Sirius said. "I won't wear the crest, but Regulus does."

"Although," James said, bowing his face into the cloak around Remus's shoulders, inhaling deeply, "I'm no hound, but this cloak does not smell like Regulus to me."

"Though he's not the only other student entitled to wear the Black crest," Sirius continued. "There's one more person."

Remus rubbed at his eyes with his fingertips.

"Do you want to name her?" James prodded, his tone almost light, as if the incident might be something of a joke. "Or shall we?"

"It's not funny," Remus snapped. "It's awful."

"What is it?" Sirius demanded, not a trace of mirth left. "You have to tell us what that mania tonight had to do with Narcissa Black."

Remus snarled, still close enough to Moony for all three of the lads to take a reflexive step backward. "It's Moony. He fancies her." Remus said it though it sounded stupid - a massive understatement of the mad, wild extent of Moony's hunger.

Sirius was aghast. "Narcissa?"

"Not really," Remus said, sitting hard in the armchair by the fireplace. "Narcissa has a creature-self. Some residual trace of Veela ancestry only visible to other creatures, which so far means to Moony alone. Apparently, he's quite taken with it."

"Veela ancestry?" Peter repeated, eyeing Sirius.

"Not through the Black family. Through her mother's side," Remus said.

"The Rosiers?"

"Yes."

"Well, Moony must have had quite the interview with her to sort out details like that," Sirius said, angry now.

"She didn't tell me tonight," Remus barked back to him. "It was in class, while we were human."

"And you're only telling us tonight - "

"Look, we need to settle this later," James said, stepping between them. "The castle will be up for the day any minute now."

"Oh yes, and the darling Lily Evans must be seen to," Sirius sneered.

"What is that supposed to - "

"Lads, lads, lads," Peter was saying, pulling the cloak from Remus's shoulders and bundling it in his arms. "What we need to do now is eat. None of us is as angry as we imagine. We're just knackered and famished. You know how it is."

"Right," James said, standing down. "The exit Floo then?"

Sirius spun away from them. "Suit yourselves. I'm going back by the tunnel. I could use the walk. Don't follow. I'll see you in class."