Sirius was obviously the one that hadn't slept well when he sat down for breakfast the next morning. It was fairly early— as a matter of fact most of the castle was still asleep. Remus was the only other one there, and obviously much more interested in the book in front of him than breakfast.

"Where's James?" Sirius asked, joining him but equally uninterested in food.

"Harry was up, too. I think they're out on the grounds. I chose not to follow them— exactly as you wouldn't have done, you know," Remus answered. He glanced over at Sirius as if daring him to argue.

Sirius didn't. "Well, if it had been your kid, what would you have done?"

"I wouldn't want one of my best friends tailing me, for one thing," Remus said pointedly. "And if it was yours I'd've been more worried than I am since it's James's."

Sirius laughed. "You know me too well, Moony," he admitted. "Actually I wasn't going to follow him. We both know he'll fill us in about anything that might be happening that Harry lets slip. And besides, madness is apparently not a genetically inherited trait. Harry seems sane enough, at least."

"You're the maniac, not James," Remus argued. "That's not proof. Not in my mind, at least. And goodness knows there's madness in your family."

He'd struck a sore point. Sirius sat, drumming his fingers on the table and staring straight ahead for the next five minutes, and it was only tentatively that Remus tried to restart a conversation. "You were a dog last night, weren't you?" he asked.

"Don't be stupid, Remus, when was the last time I was a dog?"

"Last night. Or last full moon if I'm wrong, which I doubt. If you have another explanation to why I could hear you whimpering, however, I'll back down."

"I wasn't whimpering!"

"Sirius," Remus said, shaking his head, "you were apparently asleep. When I told you to shut up and go to sleep you didn't answer me. And nothing happened when I threw a shoe at you like you were a cat either."

"And that's proof because. . . ?"

"You only whimper under two conditions— one of them is that you've just stopped me from giving you the slip around midnight and I scratched you as a reply. The other is you're a dog and you're asleep. Since I see no reason for something to have drawn your blood last night, I assumed you were talking in your sleep."

"Talking?" Sirius demanded. He didn't look very happy at this particular accusation. "Dogs don't talk, not even Animangi, and you know that."

"Yes," Remus admitted. "You do talk in your sleep sometimes. It's fairly amusing when you're human. Nonsense mostly," he added when Sirius shoved him irritably, "never anything you haven't told us. I might have actually told you about it then."

Sirius didn't look assured by this news. "Fine. Maybe I was a dog last night. What's it to you?" he demanded, trying to make it sound natural.

"Nothing," Remus admitted. "Why?"

"I have a certain attachment to canines," Sirius said loftily. "Besides, it keeps cats from breaking in, and you know I won't sleep with a cat in the room."

"Indeed I think becoming an Animangus just addled that part of your brain further," Remus admitted, flipping pages in his book.

Sirius shook his head. "At least I ended up the right animal." Absently he pulled a piece of parchment out of his robes. "I solemnly swear I am up to no good," he muttered at it, and it started to flower into a map. Finally, when the Marauders' spiky lettering lined the top, he started examining it.

"Anything interesting?" Remus asked him absently.

"Not that I can see," Sirius admitted. "No . . . wait . . . Snivellus?"

Remus paused a moment, likewise disbelieving. "So Peter was right . . . Snape is here. You ought to give him a chance, you know."

"Snivellus?" Sirius asked incredulously. "You okay, Moony?"

"Peter."

"Oh. . . ." Sirius thought about that answer. "C'mon, Remus, I do give the kid a chance. He's just so given to false alarms that it's a real pain sometimes."

Remus rolled his eyes but didn't answer, choosing instead to bury himself in his book. Sirius, still muttering, was examining the map, but it was obviously for lack of anything better to do. James and Harry found them ignoring each other. "And what's it this time?" James demanded.

"I'm not sure," Remus admitted cheerfully. "I think it might be shock. We're always arguing, anyway, aren't we?" he added absently.

"Not when it matters," James muttered under his breath, but he nodded. He turned absently to Sirius, nodding to the map. "Anything I ought to know about?"

"One name I shouldn't recognize," Sirius answered irritably.

"Which one's that?" James asked boredly.

Sirius scowled. "Snivellus's."

"You're kidding me! Right, Padfoot?" James leaned over the map, eventually finding Snape's name in the dungeons. His hazel eyes widened with disbelief behind his glasses. "But what's he doing at Hogwarts? Of all the people to find. . . ."

"He's teaching," Harry said quietly. He didn't look at all happy about it.

"What's Dumbledore doing, trusting that git?" Sirius demanded, handing the map to James. "He'd make an awful teacher, anyway."

Harry grinned. Remus shrugged. "Twenty years can change a lot about a person, Padfoot. Especially since the Snape we have for comparison is sixteen."

"Tiger's don't change their stripes," Sirius muttered darkly, but he left it at that.

Author's Note: Thanks to all my truly awesome reviewers. Constructive crticism is, as always, appreciated!