Remus woke late Sunday night with a dull pressure in the back of his head and a vague feeling of dread flowing sluggishly through his veins. His memories trickled back in slowly, along with the ache in his hips, thighs, calves, and soles. Two weeks out from the full, he should have been feeling as well as he ever did, but he supposed, after all, that having your entire world turned upside down for the second time in thirteen years can do that to a person.

He had to muster all of his energy to walk down three floors to the kitchens, where a house elf named Tippy made Remus the best sandwich he had eaten in his life. Upon his walk back to his quarters, Remus passed through his office, where an intimidating stack of parchments perched upon his desk, awaiting his attention. What with the aforementioned upturning of his entire world, Remus had almost forgotten he was also a professor with essays to grade and lessons to plan. With an enormous sigh and a mournful look at his bed, he set his kettle to boiling, steeped a bag of his strongest tea, and got to work.

Monday morning passed much the same way, his breaks between classes filled with last-minute marking and hurried, fervent checks of the Marauder's Map. Remus was feeling rather harried by his first class of the afternoon, fifth year Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs. Luckily, during second term he had started incorporating reviews of earlier years' subjects in preparation for OWLs. He swapped out an undoubtedly rambunctious practical lesson in favor of a review session he'd planned for later in the week, hoping for a calmer class.

He should have known better than to expect calm from any class containing Fred and George Weasley.

It started with an extra roll of parchment handed in with the students' weekend assignments. Remus was almost done checking off turned-in essays on his roster when he realized there were five rolls of parchment left for only four students. Remus, frowning, glanced up at his class to make sure there wasn't a mysterious twenty-third student in the room, and his gaze fell upon the Weasley twins. They looked back at him with matching expressions of innocence that might have been convincing were it not for the fact that Fred and George were paying him rapt attention, while the students around them paid Remus no attention at all.

Remus sighed heavily. He supposed this was really what he deserved, all things (his own school days) considered. Honestly, if the entirety of his comeuppance was the mischief of Fred and George Weasley, Remus would consider himself to have gotten off very lightly indeed.

He cast a series of whispered diagnostic spells on the rolls of parchment before him until one of them glowed white. Without looking back up at the class, Remus checked off the four remaining scrolls, vanished the trick parchment, and started his lesson.

Five minutes into the review session, Cedric Diggory's hair turned purple. A few of his classmates noticed and started to giggle before Remus muttered the countercurse. He sent his best unamused expression toward Fred and George and continued with the lesson. Three minutes later, Angelina Johnson's hair turned green. Remus had it back to black in three seconds flat.

"And who can tell me the three classes of curses that won't respond to a simple finite?" Remus asked. "George?"

While George struggled with the third category, Remus silently cast a modified rebounding shield over the rest of the class. Two minutes later, Fred's hair turned bright pink. Remus watched him stare confusedly at the stubbornly brown head of the Hopkirk girl two rows in front of him. When Fred turned his stunned gaze on his professor, Remus met it evenly with one raised eyebrow. George looked over at his brother and sniggered, whispering in Fred's ear. Fred looked horrified for an instant, hands rising instinctually to cover his hair, before he broke into sniggers too.

If Fred and George were anything like Pads and Prongs, they would have to escalate now, Remus knew. He shot an eavesdropping jinx at the twins' desks and listened to them plot with one ear while he continued on with his review. After ten minutes of heated debate, Fred and George decided on a wave of delayed-effect flatulence hexes aimed at all twelve Hufflepuffs. Remus smirked to himself but said nothing as they started casting in- he had to credit them- very surreptitious whispers. Remus finished his explanation of common approaches to cursed flesh wounds, checked his watch, and paused.

"Right, we'll take a short break now to watch the Weasleys make fools of themselves."

The entire class turned to look at Fred and George. The twins had just enough time to glance at each other, aghast, before the rebounded flatulence hexes started to take effect. The teens around them exploded with laughter, egged on, after a moment, by Fred, who jumped onto his seat and aimed his bottom at George's face. Remus schooled his expression and kept his eyes trained on his watch, counting eleven rebounded hexes between the two of them. Finally, the gas tapered off, followed by the giggles of the rest of the class, but Remus kept an eye on his watch.

Remus glanced up quickly to see most of the fifth years had turned their attention back to their professor, anxious to see his response. Remus grinned at them but held up a finger. "Not quite done, I believe- ah, there we are," he said, as George let the last one, noticeably delayed for comedic effect, rip.

"Thank you for that, Fred, George," Remus said mildly as the last of the Hufflepuff girls got themselves back under control. "I have to say you harmonized beautifully and it was a nice break from the monotony of our review session." George leapt up onto his chair and gave Remus an exaggerated bow. "That said, twenty points from Gryffindor and please stay behind after class. Now, who can explain the theory behind the lack of counters for Unforgivable Curses?"

The twins spent the rest of class arguing in furious whispers over why their hexes were rebounding and how Remus knew what they had planned down to the second. Fortunately, that kept them too occupied to attempt more mischief, so Remus was happy to let them argue. He did make a point, however, of asking them to answer review questions whenever they steered too close to insulting Remus' intelligence, a pattern Fred only caught onto after the third such question had Remus interrupting himself mid-sentence.

By the time class ended, Fred and George were plotting, in even lower whispers, how they would go about recruiting Moony to help orchestrate their Greatest Prank Yet, and belied no fear whatsoever about the stern talking-to Remus was attempting to compose in his own head. Remus ignored them for a minute after the rest of the students emptied out, focusing instead on cleaning the backboard, tidying his desk, and checking the Map again for Wormtail. His use of the Map had Fred and George elbowing each other unsubtly, but Remus was silent. Finally, after scouring the entire Map and finding no hint of Peter Pettigrew, Remus muttered, "mischief managed," sat back in his chair, and looked at the twins. Still, he said nothing; the longer he stared at the them, the shiftier they got.

"Harry told you," Remus finally said with a tone of weary resignation.

Fred and George cracked identical wicked smiles. "He did, Moony ol' boy," Fred said.

"What else has Harry told you?"

"That his dad was Prongs," answered George.

"And Wormtail and Padfoot?" Remus prompted.

"He didn't say," said Fred.

"We have our theories, though," added George.

"And if you ever felt inclined to share your wisdom,"

"Or regale us with stories of your glorious deeds,"

"Or take an aspiring pair of mischief-makers under your wings,"

"We'd consider it an honor, Mister Moony sir," finished George.

Remus sighed, but he had known it would come to this. "While I am your professor, you will call me Professor Lupin." The twins gaped at him with affected looks of betrayal. "Although," Remus continued, "I am not naive enough to believe I will last more than four more months in this position. So," Remus winced at what he was about to do, but carried on, "I am willing to strike you a deal."

Fred and George beamed at Remus, then at each other, with unholy glee.

"If you promise to keep your hijinks out of my classroom for the rest of the year, I will introduce you to another marauder over the summer."

Fred and George turned to each other with wild grins and commenced a silent conversation, punctuated with smirks, winks, snorts, and several glances at Remus and at the Map. Remus watched them plot with a pang in his chest, remembering how James and Sirius used to do the same while he and Peter waited, with varying levels of impatience, to be let in on their plans. Finally, the twins turned back to Remus.

"We accept your proposition," began Fred.

"On one condition," added George.

"To be expected," murmured Remus.

"When you introduce us to the third marauder," said Fred.

"Both of you will consult with us," said George.

"About our plan to open a joke shop,"

"And in return, we will give you…" George trailed off, looking at Fred.

"Ten percent of our first year's profits," finished Fred.

Remus smiled at them wistfully. "I think he would love that," he murmured. "But you know I can't be involved as your professor. It will have to wait until summer. And if I catch even a whiff of mischief in my classroom, my office, my quarters, or my food or seat in the Great Hall," Remus pretended not to see Fred's mouth screw up in disappointment, "for the rest of the year, then the deal's off."

The twins glanced at each other, nodded, and took turns shaking Remus' hand.

"We accept," said Fred.

"Thanks, Professor Moony Lupin sir," said George.

"Just Professor Lupin," Remus said with his sternest glare. George flashed him a winning smile.

Remus shooed them out of the room and prepared for his next class.

Remus was still thinking about Fred and George, and their uncanny resemblance to Sirius and James, that evening as he walked the grounds after dinner. He kept his eyes open and alert for any sign of rat or dog, but found his mind drifting to two pairs of mischievous teenage boys, one pair brothers in spirit, the other in birth. It still hurt too much to think about James and Sirius outright, so instead he pondered the problem of the Weasley twins and the kind of impact they could have if they channeled their talent and energies into something bigger than pranks. The Marauders, after all, had made the Map, a truly inspired magical artifact, and had undoubtedly saved Remus' life by becoming animagi. Not that he would ever suggest Fred and George pursue something as dangerous as underage and unregistered animagery, but Remus could never forget what a difference it made for him to have his friends' company in the shack, and soon after, in the forest: settings of his worst and best nights at Hogwarts.

Sometime during this bout of nostalgia, Remus found himself walking, with no conscious intent, towards the Whomping Willow, and was therefore jerked unceremoniously from his thoughts by a massive spiky branch whipping past his face. After a hasty step back and a second to gather his wits, Remus wondered whether Sirius had been unable to resist the pull of old memories either. He found a broken branch on the ground and, checking slyly that there were no students around to witness his escapade, froze the Willow and slipped into the tunnel.

The Willow passage seemed much smaller than he remembered it; he had to bend over slightly to fit and his footsteps echoed strangely off the damp earth around him. Remus pulled his threadbare cloak tighter around his shoulders and hurried down the tunnel. When he finally reached the door to the shrieking shack, it was with a heady mixture of relief and trepidation. He leveraged himself up into the old sitting room, looking less torn-up but much dustier than he remembered it. Upon closer inspection, he was pleased to find that the thick carpet of dust was disturbed by several tracks of pawprints.

Remus followed the tracks through a doorway to the right, up a rickety, crumbling staircase, and then into a room with a once-magnificent four-poster bed and a scratched-up vanity table. The duvet of the four-poster was indented slightly in the middle, where it also appeared to be less dusty than the rest of the room, but host to a fine layer of black fur. Remus checked the other rooms in the shack, just to be sure Padfoot hadn't hidden himself somewhere else, but found no further trace of Sirius. Eventually he let himself back out of the shack, down the tunnel, and into school, scanning the grassy slopes of the grounds for rats and dogs as he went.

Remus received a note from Minerva during breakfast on Tuesday morning:

Remus,

Please meet in my office tomorrow at 6 PM to speak more about Harry Potter and his relatives.

Minerva

Remus sighed into his tea. He still felt badly about letting Harry run off on Sunday morning; he resolved to make it up to him. After his third year class that afternoon, he pulled Harry aside.

"Harry, I am sorry our last Patronus session ended so abruptly."

Harry ducked his head and said nothing.

"I want you to know, I am going to make sure you don't have to go back to your aunt's house ever again."

Harry scoffed in the direction of his scuffed-up sneakers, which could give Remus' own shoes a run for their money for shabbiness. "You're not the first teacher who's made promises they can't keep." After a moment he added, less angrily, "no offense, Professor."

"Of course," Remus breathed. Of course he couldn't be the first teacher to notice something wrong, especially if Harry was still living with his aunt and uncle during primary school. Remus pushed aside his epiphany for the moment to focus on Harry. "I'm very sorry to hear that, Harry, but I really am-"

"Look, is that all?" Harry asked his feet. "Only, I've got to get to History of Magic, so…" he trailed off, sneaking an uncomfortable glance at the classroom door.

"I also want to confirm I'll see you Thursday night for our usual Patronus lessons," said Remus.

Harry rubbed the back of his neck. "I think I'm good on Patronuses now, Professor. I've been talking to my dad a lot and I can conjure him on the first try every time now."

"That's brilliant, Harry. Very impressive. I'd at least like to give you one more go at a boggart, though, just to make sure you can cast a corporeal Patronus under the effects of a dementor. Is that okay?"

Harry shrugged.

"I promise I won't say anything else about your aunt and uncle. We will only talk about Patronuses. Alright?"

"Yeah, alright," Harry muttered. "I'll come."

"Thank you. Oh, and Harry?"

"Yes, Professor?" Harry asked his shoes.

"I'd appreciate it if you kept the identities of the rest of the marauders secret from Fred and George, for now; I'd rather not field questions about Padfoot and Wormtail until I've verified, er, things."

Harry blushed and turned a sheepish smile at Remus. "Sorry," he muttered. "I told them not to say anything."

"Well, we had a very interesting conversation nonetheless," Remus said mildly. "I'm not angry with you for telling them who I am, but the rest of the Marauders are… decidedly more complicated."

"Yeah, makes sense." Harry told his shoes. "Sorry."

"It's alright. I'll see you on Thursday."

Harry nodded and raced for the door. Remus watched him go with an ache in his chest and a new plan to bring to Minerva tomorrow. He had just enough time to check the Map for Peter before his first years' lesson began, but, like always, found him nowhere.

Remus stopped by the kitchens before his evening search of the grounds. The house elves were as happy as ever to see him, and even happier when he asked for a basket of food enough for two. He grinned when Tippy handed over a basket that was undoubtedly heavy enough to feed four people; he had to cast a featherlight charm on it to lug it out of the castle. Remus headed straight for the Willow to deposit the basket in the shack before circling the entire castle twice. He saw no signs of either of his old friends, and returned to his quarters tired, cold, and morose.

Wednesday's meeting with Minerva turned out to be a conference with Severus and Poppy as well. Remus wasn't surprised at all to see Poppy there, although he had almost convinced himself that his conversation with Severus had been a strange headache-induced fever dream. Remus fought back a grin imagining what James would have said about Severus' involvement, and promptly dubbed the motley crew Team Potter in his mind.

They were something of a tight fit, the four of them, crammed into Minerva's office, but they spread out in an arc around Minerva's desk, so that she could take notes of the meeting, and balanced cups of tea on their hands and laps.

Minerva started off by outlining her research into the process of reporting abuse of a magical child. "The ministry will appoint an official to investigate our complaint. They will be able to inspect the house, interview his relatives and their neighbors, and evaluate the well-being of Potter himself. Then the investigator will write up a report with their recommendations and submit it to the Wizengamot for the hearing."

Remus shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "Are they required to speak to Harry?"

"I daresay he's the expert on how his aunt and uncle have been treating him," answered Minerva.

"I just-" Remus couldn't hold Minerva's gaze, and dropped his eyes to the table. "He shuts down whenever I ask him about his relatives. I don't want to force him to go through that if it's not necessary."

Remus chanced a glance up to see Minerva purse her lips and nod in agreement. "Perhaps his friends can offer information on his behalf. I would hope that, if he has shared his experience with anyone, it is with Weasley and Granger."

"Oh, I don't know about that," Poppy broke in. "I don't like interviewing his friends if we haven't even talked to the boy himself."

"I have to agree," said Remus. "It feels inappropriate to go behind Harry's back and talk to his friends, even if we're doing it to spare him an uncomfortable conversation."

Minerva stared at Remus as if she was debating pushing back, but ultimately she acquiesced. "If we're not seeking first- or second-hand accounts from Potter or his friends, we will need to focus on gathering evidence through other means. Severus, did you find anything during your visit to his aunt and uncle?"

"Petunia, as expected, did not welcome my questions. She did, however, make several references to an… incident over the summer, during which, if I understood her shrieks correctly, Potter blew up another relative of theirs and then fled the scene," Severus said disdainfully. "Potter's well-known lack of control notwithstanding, Petunia said, and I quote, 'We told those other freaks we won't take the boy back until summer.'"

"Those other freaks?" Poppy echoed.

"I can only assume it was a reference to the Accidental Magic Reversal team."

Remus had to close his eyes against the blood rushing through his head, which almost made him miss Poppy's response. "Would that show up on the Ministry incident report?"

Severus snorted. "I don't expect anyone from the ministry to have been so thorough in their documentation."

Remus couldn't help but agree.

"Even though Petunia wouldn't talk to you," Remus began hesitantly, "did you attempt at all to… verify our concerns, by other means?"

"Remus!" scolded Minerva. "I hope you didn't advocate nonconsensual legilimency against a muggle! I warned you, Severus!"

"On the contrary," said Remus mildly. "I also told Severus, in no uncertain terms, that it would be a terrible idea, but I also have no confidence that he would willingly follow my advice."

All eyes turned towards Severus. He stared back at all of them impassively. Poppy finally caved. "Well, did you?"

The corner of Severus's mouth twitched upwards in a cold smirk. "I did."

Minerva's shoulders sagged and she rested her face in one hand.

"And?" asked Remus.

"Our concerns are valid."

Minerva sighed heavily. "You know none of those memories are admissible in court?"

"I know," said Severus.

"And that your actions to access them could see yourself in court?"

"Only if one of you reports me," said Severus coolly. "You'll forgive me for taking my first opportunity to ascertain that Lupin isn't sending us on a fool's errand in order to distract us from his old friend Black."

"Now-"

"The timing was suspicious, Minerva; I won't apologize for valuing my time and yours."

"I understand, Severus," said Remus, already tired of listening to his aspersions again. "Speaking of the Wizengamot, though, Minerva- they wouldn't hold a full trial for a sensitive matter like child abuse, would they? Any case in front of the full Wizengamot must be, by law, open to the public; I can only imagine the field day the Prophet would have if word got out."

"From what I've read, unless Potter wishes to press criminal charges against his aunt and uncle, it will be considered a civil matter and therefore overseen by a panel of five Wizengamot members, randomly selected."

"Small miracles," murmured Remus.

"I, for one, would enjoy seeing Petunia and Vernon Dursley charged criminally," Severus muttered.

"Come now, Severus," said Poppy. "That'll be for the boy to decide. We can't pressure him to put himself through the ordeal of a public criminal trial if he doesn't even want to talk to Remus about it alone."

Severus' beetle-black eyes gleamed in Remus' direction. Somewhere deep in his bones, Remus felt the vitriol barreling inevitably toward him.

"Perhaps you are putting too much faith in a werewolf's ability to pretend that he cares-"

"Severus! That's enough!" barked Minerva.

"Yes, yes, I'm a big bad wolf," Remus sighed, waving his hand wearily. "We'll leave it up to Harry. Now if you don't mind, there's actually something else I was going to suggest. I think we need to obtain Harry's old school reports; I can't have been the first of his teachers to notice something was wrong. I think someone needs to go to his muggle primary school and ask for his records."

"I'll do it," offered Poppy. "It's well within my rights as his primary healer to obtain his medical history. If you give me his address I can ask my brother in law to help me track down his old muggle school."

Minerva scribbled the address on a slip of parchment and handed it to Poppy.

"Oh, of course," said Poppy. "You've been to the house before, haven't you? When you delivered his letter?"

"No," sighed Minerva. "That was Rubeus. He asked Albus for the honor."

"Well, what did he have to say about Harry's aunt and uncle then?"

"I don't remember much of what he said at the time," Minerva reflected, "but I will ask him tomorrow-"

"No!" Remus interjected, slightly louder than necessary. All eyes turned towards him in surprise. "We can't bring Hagrid into this, not yet."

"Whyever not?" asked Poppy. "I daresay he cares for the boy as much as any other staff member here!"

"He does, I know, of course he does," said Remus, rubbing his eyes. "But you know how emotional he gets about certain things. This would only upset him."

"It's upsetting subject matter," said Minerva. "I don't think-"

"He'll tell Dumbledore," Remus groaned. "And I'm not ready to bring this to Dumbledore's attention yet."

"Why don't you trust Dumbledore?" Severus asked, eyes glittering with suspicion.

"It's not a matter of trusting Dumbledore," Remus groaned again. "I just- I can't explain it, exactly, but I think we need to be ready, with all our information, before we raise the matter to him." It sounded like a weak excuse even to Remus, but luckily he was well-rested enough to think on the fly, just like old times. "Dumbledore places a lot of faith in family. He'll think Lily's love for Harry is manifested in her sister, or something, and he'll try to improve conditions for Harry at his aunt and uncle's but- but I won't let him go back there at all, I won't."

Remus risked a tentative glance around the table to assess Team Potter's reaction. Minerva and Poppy seemed to be receptive to his arguments. Severus still looked suspicious.

"And who would you prefer care for Potter, then?" he asked.

Remus kept his internal wince to himself. "I don't- I don't know yet. I'm trying to track down an old family friend. I know Minerva has a long list of possible candidates as well," she nodded fervently in agreement, "but we don't need anything finalized yet, right? We're still gathering evidence."

"Right," said Poppy, although Severus looked like he still wanted to argue.

"In that case, I trust we all still have a lot to do today," said Remus, before Severus could question him some more. "Did anyone else have concerns to raise or new leads to follow about Harry?" Remus paused for responses but got none. He pushed his seat back. "Great. I don't know about you lot, but I have a lot of marking left to do tonight. I'll take your leave."

Remus hurried out of Minerva's office after a cursory farewell nod and ducked into the nearest alcove he passed, behind a gory tapestry depicting the uprising of Elric the Eager, to check the Map for Peter. It was becoming a bit of an obsession, he noted distantly, but the stakes were too high for him to care. Once again, Peter was nowhere to be seen. Remus sighed and pocketed the map, heading for the kitchens.

The house elves were thrilled to see Remus back again so soon.

"Another basket for Master Remus sir?" asked Tippy.

"Yes please. I think I'll be needing one most nights, if you don't mind."

"Tippy is pleased to be making Master Remus a basket most nights!" Tippy said with glee. "Especially if Master Remus is taking a nice lady on romantic picnic dates?"

Remus snorted. He'd forgotten how much the kitchen elves loved gossip; that was how James had gotten himself on their good side so quickly in first year. "Something like that, Tippy," Remus answered with his most enigmatic half-smile. Tippy winked at him before bustling off to prepare the meal. She returned less than two minutes later with a basket that felt even heavier than last night's and a knowing grin.

Remus thanked her profusely and backed out of the kitchens. In the hallway he stopped to check the basket, where- yep, a handful of white tea candles and two small vases holding red roses lay on top of the food. Remus vanished them with fervor and spent the rest of his walk around the grounds and the edge of the forest amusing himself with visions of a romantic candlelit dinner with his escaped convict and possibly insane canine ex-boyfriend.

He was pleased to find an empty basket waiting for him in the shrieking shack. Remus had half expected the basket to just vanish if left alone for long enough, like leprechaun gold, but he was much more relieved to find sure evidence that Sirius had found his food and eaten it. Remus swapped out the empty basket for his new one, sans roses and candles. After another cursory and uneventful check of other rooms in the shack, he made his way back to the castle, feeling lighter than he'd felt all week.