I was quiet the next day, quiet enough that David asked me if I was sick or something. I told him I was fine, but I know he wasn't quite convinced— after all, I was playing solitaire with exploding snap instead of blowing experiments up by accident.

David probably wasn't the only one who noticed I was behaving differently— Rosmerta asked me late that evening if I'd finally given up on flirting with her. I'd been seated by the fire in the main room and managed a weak smile. "Not really, I'm just not in the mood."

"You have been rather quiet, you know, Scott," she told me.

"Yes, well. . . ." I faded off, unable to come up with a good enough answer for that.

"There's not anything wholly wrong, is there?" she asked absently. "Unless I only think I know you, normally you'd have pulled out some stupid pick-up line the moment I mentioned you're flirting with me, after all."

"Normally, yes, but really there isn't anything wrong. Like I said, I'm just not in the mood." I shrugged and glanced out the window. "Full moon," I couldn't help but comment.

Rosmerta looked out again. "Indeed it is."

I wasn't really paying attention anymore, however. I was remembering those moonlit nights instead, wandering around with Remus and James and Peter. The danger in it was what had driven me out again and again at least, and one of the things I remembered vividly from my school days was being there, snarling at Remus when he tried to slip off, running into James for the pure fun of tackling him, and hearing Peter's indignant squeaking as one of us stepped on his tail.

"Now you seem to be in another world entirely," Rosmerta announced.

I was jolted back onto earth, staring at the redhead and startled. "Well, sorta. . . ." I admitted. "I'm going to go get some air."

As soon as I was beyond Hogsmede, I changed into the dog. I hadn't done it since I'd landed in my past, and it felt good to charge into that forest again, the same way I'd felt when I'd done it right after Azkaban. I actually glanced over my shoulder once, in search of James or Remus. It was almost winter— the air had a nip to it and though it wasn't quite the same thing, I felt the old spirit of adventure again.

I didn't go too deep, just far enough I could barely smell anything that reminded me of Hogwarts, making myself comfortable on the well-worn deer or unicorn trails that crisscrossed the forest. I was sick of being Scott— tonight I was Padfoot, a Marauder and an adventurer, again. I'd deal with Scott's problems— Lily's need to get me help for those dreams, work, and getting used to just being Mr. Barker— in the morning.

A bat shrieked past me, I turned around and chased it for a few hundred yards, until I could no longer see it through the trees, snapping at it playfully. I felt gloriously free again, in a way I hadn't since I first got out of Azkaban and gotten the memories of these nights back.

A howl erupted, and I turned with some surprise. Idiot, you chose the wrong night to remind yourself who Padfoot was! I backed up quietly between two trees, figuring I'd just let the four of us slip past me.

Only it wasn't the four of us. It was just Moony, who came past me at full run. Without thinking, the Marauder instinct took over and I came streaking after him, until I pounced and tackled him, throwing the werewolf onto his back and glaring down at him. Remus whimpered and apparently tried to look small and submissive. That startled me— I'd never seen him act like he was honestly afraid.

James came running in, Sirius on his heels. Where Peter was I'd never guess. It only occurred to me when I saw my sixteen-year-old self how much bigger I'd gotten as far as the dog went. Quickly, I jumped off Remus and made for a deeper recess of the forest. Sirius barked behind me, and I couldn't help but turn around, meeting eyes with him. He nodded once, almost as if he recognized me, which was ridiculous. I woofed back and started to walk off again.

An indignant squeak sounded beneath one of my front paws. I glanced down, and found myself holding a rather large rat in place by the base of the tail. Peter stared up at me, squeaking up a storm. I hesitated, then lifted the paw. Peter, who had also looked thoroughly terrified, scrambled off. I watched him go, dodging roots in hot pursuit of James and Sirius. As soon as I'd heard the last of the rustling, however, I had to hit the ground, panting and trying to laugh— which dogs weren't made for.

I'd stopped Remus's running off and stepped on Peter. What more of the past could I want?

It was a moment or so before I actually came to my senses. Hopefully Peter would think I was a more normal stray, but whatever the other three thought might not be the best thing. I had my doubts they'd make a connection between Sirius's and my personalities at all, but Remus and James, at least, had had a way of surprising me completely before. I just hoped it wouldn't be too much right now.

I stood up, shook out my coat, and made my way out of the forest, hoping the results of tonight wouldn't put me in too embarrassing a position. If they made a connection, after all, I'd have to think of some kind of an excuse. I'll deal with it when it comes, I told myself.

You always say that, my responsible side reminded me.

And I always deal with it, I snapped back at it, conveniently forgetting the number of times my responsible side had warned me of the danger of an embarrassing situation I'd gotten into anyway.

At the edge of the forest, I changed back and wandered through Hogsmede into the Three Broomsticks halfway calm again. I was a little sweaty, but it was nothing that jogging a couple of kilometers wouldn't have done.

Rosmerta was seated by the fire, directing the broom to sweep the room, when I came back in. The broom swept the dirt out as I came in. "You're tracking it back in," she complained, and the broom swept the footprints I'd left back out again.

"That tends to happen when you're trying to get it out while I'm trying to get in," I told her dryly.

She shook her head. "Nice walk?" she asked. "Or jog, more like. Isn't it getting a little cold not to grab a jacket or something on your way out?"

"A little. I don't think it's too cold, though." I shrugged, closing the door as the broom bustled back in. "The bats aren't hibernating yet, at any rate."

"Bats?" she asked, obviously startled. "Where were you?"

"The forest."

"You're kidding me," Rosmerta announced, standing up. "You've got to be completely mad to be jogging in the Forbidden Forest at this time of night— and during a full moon, too!"

"So I like risking my neck. I thought you might have known me well enough by now to tell that."

"Maybe I do," she answered, flicking her wand. The broom flew back into its corner, and she tucked the wand back into her pocket. "Now, if you don't mind, I'd like to get to bed, so if you wouldn't mind going upstairs yourself."

"I'd be honored to escort you."

Rosmerta sniffed. "Your being honored will have to wait, Barker," she answered, heading in the direction of the stairs. "I'm perfectly capable of getting up there on my own."

I grinned impishly. "G'night, Rosmerta."

Author's Note: Do you have any idea how difficult it is to try to get two pretty major subplots going at the same time? Well, yeah, you probably do, but that's beyond my point. I'll get deeper into the subplot with Sirius's dreams next chapter . . . or the chapter after that, depending on the status of this one. Padfoot (this particular name is easier to spell)— I see what you mean about Lily, although she also doesn't seem the type to keep going at something making a friend uncomfortable when he's obviously got a problem already, either, and I kind of played up on her tendency to worry about people a bit (if that makes sense). This is going to sound strange but it's for another fic and addressed to anyone— what's the driving age in England? Thanks for the reviews, keep 'em coming! Cheers! — Loki