Disclaimer: Wish I got paid for witty disclaimers...

Pairings: Harry/Draco, James/Lily. Any others will be noted in later chapters.

Summary: Following an escaped Death Eater brings Harry 20 years into the past. As Harry searches for him inside Hogwarts, Harry learns just how the world he lives in came to be- and what it still has left for him.

I have dreamt of a place for you and I
No one knows who we are there
All I want is to give my life only to you
I've dreamt so long, I cannot dream anymore
Let's run away, I'll take you there

We're leaving here tonight
There's no need to tell anyone
they'd only pull us down
So by the mornings light
We'll be half way to anywhere
Where no one needs a reason

-Evanescence, Anywhere

He could hear a cockroach. He knew it was a cockroach- he couldn't say why, he just knew. No other pest in the world could sound as utterly disgusting as a cockroach could. Its miniscule legs scuttled across some nondescript surface, tapping away in the otherwise solemn room. He could just see it dashing quickly from under one parchment to the next, gripping to the shadows. But there, it stopped moving.

The air was musty, damp and decaying parchment gathering dust and mold in piles inside boxes and balancing precariously on shelves. It seemed that whoever had been in charge of record keeping wasn't one for organization- or preservation. Between water damage, fading, and tearing, half the documents proved illegible.

Draco sifted through a mysteriously pungent pile, worrying his lip. The cockroach was moving again. It was distracting him from the job he didn't want to be doing anyway. It wasn't his kind of job- he sent other people to do menial, dirty tasks like this. Yet here he was, polished nails perched on long, pale fingers holding a dirtied, somewhat green roll of parchment next to a quickly shrinking candle.

And yet, he trusted no one else to do it. No one else would go over each document five times, checking for inconsistencies in numbers, handwriting, anything that would indicate that something was off. Who else would look at each word with a critical eye, committing its tone, slant, usage, everything from how the "i" was dotted to the curve of the "r" to memory, before slowly bringing his eyes to the next word- then proceeding to compare it to the previous one.

He was known to pay meticulous attention to detail. He prided himself on being thorough- or, as Harry called it, anal-retentive.

The cockroach resumed its quest. Draco was glad to hear it moving farther away, back into the murky gloom that encapsulated the rest of the room. He couldn't concentrate with the constant scratching of tiny feet.

Draco rubbed his blurring eyes, turning to the next roll. He'd been bent over documents in the cold room for hours, and it was starting to take its toll. Maybe it's time to take a break. His fingers subconsciously smoothed the somewhat wrinkled parchment. He looked down, the black ink unfurling underneath his fingers- he paused. He knew the handwriting anywhere- it was Harry's. Reading through quickly, he recognized it as his resume for the DADA position. He let out a breath he didn't know he'd been holding. It was reassuring to see some sign of Harry, no matter how miniscule. After pouring over document after document without finding anything remotely related to the raven-haired man, he'd become increasingly worried.

Of course, he had already known Harry was accepted for the DADA position, Dumbledore had told him that much. But still, it was calming to see the familiar, if slightly sloppy, handwriting.

Looking it over, Draco recognized the lies they'd put together for the name Zane Lynton Cutter. It was extravagant, taking into account all of Harry's strengths and giving them rhyme and reason. It was a good resume- it had to be. Laws dictated only the personnel in charge of timekeys be aware that a person had traveled back and fourth. It was a test to make sure Dumbledore picked Harry and no one else for the position. It helped that the present Dumbledore knew exactly what to write to make his past self take notice.

Taking the discovery as a good omen, Draco pushed the parchment to the side, deciding on finishing the last pile in the box before taking a break. The discovery gave him a new spurt of energy as he pulled the tie off the next parchment.

It was wrapped neatly, though the edges had been torn and worn over the years. The tears caught as he unrolled it, and after the first began to rip even more, he eased the rest open gently. Once at full length, Draco recognized it as one of the reports from the infirmary, dating the 16th of September.

There were three patients. The first was a second year that had been victim of a vomiting spell. He'd been there a total before fifteen minutes as Pomfrey cast the counter charm. After that was a victim of a classroom injury, Lily Evans.

Draco sat back in his chair. The class had been Defense Against the Dark Arts.

Classroom injuries were common when dealing with magic. Even if done right, magic was temperamental, especially for students who were by definition learning. It wasn't unusual to have injuries, even so early in the year. What was strange was that it was a sixth year class. Draco glanced at the rest of the report. He relaxed at the reference to the boggart. That explains it.

Boggarts were a touchy subject in lessons. Theory was always covered in classes, but lessons involving the use of boggarts were frowned upon for one reason- they were humiliating. Fainting spells were common, adding insult to injury. Though Draco was surprised that of all people, it was Lily Evans who had fainted. He'd have to remember to ask Harry what her boggart had been when he returned.

A sigh bubbled in his chest, and Draco tried his best to suppress it. It was becoming so hard to concentrate. His head fell to the desk cupped between his hands as he rubbed his fingers over his eyelids.

The thoughts he'd been holding at bay since starting his search wandered. First was the guilt. He'd made Harry go, pure and simple. The thought that he'd come to harm because of it weighed heavy on his mind. If something happened to Harry… he couldn't bear to think about it.

What bothered him the most was why Harry didn't come back. Was it against his will, or did he just want to stay? Harry wasn't a fool, he knew he'd be putting himself and everyone else involved under the ministry's wrath if he didn't return. It would have to be something drastic- being held against his will was on the top of the list.

But then there was something else. He knew it to be paranoia, but he couldn't stop it from surfacing. What if Harry found someone better?

He lifted his head, rubbing his eyes vigorously before quickly sorting the pages before him. He was being ridiculous. Harry wasn't that kind of guy. He pushed his thoughts aside as he plucked the next roll of parchment from the pile.

This one was surprisingly intact, though seemingly the source of the pungent smell. Unrolling it, Draco held his nose in distaste. It was the monthly inventory of potion ingredients for September of that year. One of the ingredients had been spilled over the surface, crusting yellow along the edges. Subconsciously Draco recognized the smell, but didn't delve too much into it- he wasn't sure he even wanted to know what it was.

The list was surprisingly short, scratchy handwriting barely legible. Draco frowned in frustration. The previous potions master must have been far less stringent than Snape. Between the spilled ingredients, handwriting, lack of detail and abundant use of nonsensical abbreviations, Draco concluded he- or she- had been downright sloppy, something Draco felt unbecoming in a profession centered on detail.

His eyes trailed over the numbers, before pausing. Quickly, Draco sorted through the papers he'd already looked through before coming up with another roll of parchment- the August inventory- which, he noticed, was in considerably more elegant script.

Holding the two in front of him, Draco looked between the August report and the September report- the records didn't add up. There were large quantities of ingredients unaccounted for- bicorn horn, boomslang skin, fluxweed, knotgrass, lacewing flies and leeches.

The ingredients seem familiar. Draco leaned back, racking his brain. He knew the potion, he just couldn't quite… Of course. Those are the ingredients for polyjuice. Draco frowned, glancing back at the inventories. The ingredients weren't just missing, they were missing in large quantities- much more than what was needed for a few doses.

With all the ingredients missing, there had to have been an inquiry…

Draco checked for any attached documents, flipping through the remaining pile when he found none. The search of the pile and those near it returned similar results. Frustrated, Draco looked back at the inventories. There had to have been an inquiry, ingredients just don't go missing.

Grabbing a spare scrap of parchment, Draco wrote down the missing quantities of each ingredient. He frowned, confused.

What the hell? This would make enough polyjuice potion for a…

A year.

Fuck.

Her eyes moved beneath her lids, trapped in the dance of her dreams. As he watched, he couldn't help feel he was somehow intruding, but he couldn't break his gaze. Her eyelashes moved ever so-slightly with each movement, and it was mesmerizing.

After carrying her to the hospital wing, he'd made himself at home in one of the stiff wooden chairs. She was okay. He didn't think about the rapid beating of his heart at that.

Her fiery hair splayed across the pillow, her cheeks pink. The features had matured over the years, but it was still the same girl he'd liked since first year. He'd seen her through the train window as she'd said her goodbyes to who he assumed were her parents on the platform. Her hair was like a beacon in the crowd.

When she'd been placed in Gryffindor, he'd beamed at her as she sat down. Tentatively, she'd smiled back.

That was he last time she'd smiled at him. He'd met Sirius Black, Remus Lupin, and Peter Pettigrew. They'd become the Marauders while Lily became the top of the class. They spent the last five years arguing- most subjects centered on her criticizing his maturity, him criticizing hers.

And yet, sometimes when they argued, he could swear he saw a shadow of a smile.

So he sat next to her bed, waiting for her to wake. Her mind had experienced something of a jolt, Madame Pomfrey had said. She needed time for it to recover before she would come to. The others had left long ago, snickering under their hands. His crush on the girl wasn't a secret, and the other marauders hadn't let him live it down.

He'd told himself he'd stay until she woke, but it was proving harder than he thought. At first he'd avoided staring at her, but found the white of the infirmary almost blinding. His gaze had wandered and found their way on her again- since then he couldn't turn his eyes away.

But even that became hard with time. His eyes drooped, but he refused to fall asleep. He wouldn't be caught drooling on the white sheets when Lily awoke- that would be far too embarrassing, even for him. Take that back, especially for him. No, he didn't want her to wake up to his drool until they were married- which he was positive they would be. This could be that arrogance thing Remus was telling me about…

Her eyes fluttered so suddenly James wondered if it was him that was blinking. But then the green eyes slowly opened, and Lily was awake.

Her eyes focused on the ceiling first before traveling down the walls. They took in the bed next to hers before she turned to her other side- and came face to face with James Potter.

"P-Potter, what are…"

She closed her eyes, suddenly dizzy. She rubbed her temples- her head was throbbing. Her throat was dry and constricting over her words. The last thing she wanted was to deal with the argumentative James, as much as she was fond of him.

Noticing her discomfort, James rose from his seat, searching the room for Pomfrey.

"Hey, if you have a headache I could get you a pain potion."

Lily ran the words through her head a few moments before shaking her head.

"No, that's okay. Thank you though. I just need to take a few breaths."

James slowly sat back down in his seat, unsure what to do now that Lily was awake. They'd never spoken much alone, and the circumstances were making things twice as awkward. He looked down at his hands, waiting for Lily to make the first move. If she was in pain, chances were she would be twice as irritable as normal.

As she started rubbing her eyes, Lily slowly recalled the events leading to her current position. The professor, the boggart, and then… Lily groaned. She'd fainted.

"I can't believe I fainted... I'm such a coward. I can't believe it…"

The words were so soft James had to strain his ears to hear them. He frowned- he wanted to know who exactly the boggart had become. Whoever it had been had used an Unforgivable- the spell was impossible to miss, no others were like it. This would have to be done delicately.

"Lily… that man. Who was that?"

She didn't say anything for a long time, and James wondered if she had heard him at all, or if she had fallen asleep again. When she spoke it was cautious, her hands placed in her lap as her green eyes caught his.

"James… I don't know why I'm telling you any of this, but… You must promise not to tell anyone. Not even Sirius and Remus. Do you understand?"

He nodded, not sure what he was agreeing to but agreeing- if only to make sure those eyes stayed with his. She continued, face unreadable.

"Not so long ago, there was an attack on a Muggle town. It was just one of many, of course, by a man who must not be named. I was visiting some relatives for the holidays at the time- I'm muggle-born, you see. It was there that…"

She took in a deep, shuddering breath. Her eyes became distant.

"We were eating dinner when they attacked. They came through the door in black cloaks and white masks. They cast immobilus on everyone before… Well, they didn't kill anyone, not in our home at least. It was a warning, I think. But…"

She looked away, and James missed her gaze immediately.

"My sister, Petunia. There was a struggle when some aurors appeared, and some of us got free. She and my aunt tried to run, but then he was there. The aurors didn't stand a chance. Then, as my aunt and Petunia reached the door… He castthe Killing Curseat her. It missed Petunia, but my aunt…"

She blinked rapidly, her eye shining. James didn't say anything.

"Well, I'm alive, and so is my sister. The rest of the family who survived had their memory erased, except for my parents. Because I'm a witch, they decided not to, in case anything similar should happen in the future."

She looked down at her hands. "I'm such a coward."

Later James would wonder how his body got from the chair to sitting on the bed- he was positive he didn't give it permission to move. But he had, and before he knew it,his arms were around the girl he'd loved since first year.

The canopy towered menacingly over his head. The curtains were drawn around him, encasing him in red and gold. The sun bled through the fabric, creating a deep orange glow. It made the bed seem warmer, yet somehow more daunting. It was suffocating- but the only way to get his thoughts straight.

There really had been nothing unusual about the fight, something that confused him. It was a few weeks since the students returned to Hogwarts, Harry starting his sixth year. As expected, sparks had flown between the Slytherins and Gryffindors, doubled after the previous year's events. Several students had been brought to the infirmary after only a few days. As the week progressed, the incidents became less frequent, but more dangerous. Fortunately, the tension hadn't gone unnoticed by the staff, who had begun to crack down on all students involved. Snape even started to punish the Slytherins, though grudgingly.

It was no surprise when Harry became the victim of the majority of the attacks- and neither was the fact they were mostly lead by Draco Malfoy. I suppose he's not too happy about his father being in Azkaban.

It had started with insults, which then escalated to pushes, which resulted in fists and then rolling on the floor trying to get the upper hand. They'd beaten each other mercilessly until the teachers had shown up, giving them both a month's worth of detention. It had been a run of the mill fight, nothing spectacular and most definitely nothing to get upset over.

It just seemed… off.

When Malfoy had walked up to him, that was off. His voice as he yelled inflaming insults, that was off. The shove that pushed him a few steps back, that was off. The fist that connected with his cheek, that was off. It was just horribly off.

I just don't get it, and I can't stop thinking about it. Malfoy had always been a prick to Harry- it was a fact of life. So then why did the insults and fighting get to him so much?

His voice was somehow lower, without the airy sneer he'd associated with it. It wasn't too deep, just deeper. That's strange, Harry thought, we're all past puberty. Why would his voice have changed?

And his posture was different- it seemed a little lower. He'd always walked so high, Harry always fancied he'd fall backwards. But now, it was more subdued, more… normal.

And then there was his hands. Except, maybe those hadn't changed, he'd just never noticed how slender they were, pale skin that…

But he shouldn't be thinking about that. This was Malfoy- he shouldn't be thinking over all his features as if he… As if I fancy the ferret.

That was a disturbing thought.

Lily was absent from the lesson.

He shouldn't have been surprised. He shouldn't be feeling disappointed in her either. But he was. He had expected her to return with her head held high, eyes alight with resolve. Instead, she never set foot through the doorway. Harry was handed a note by Lori Jenkins with Madame Pomfrey's signature, declaring Lily unfit to participate in the lesson. This was a lie, he knew. She'd been fit enough for lessons that morning, after all.

For anyone else, Harry wouldn't have thought twice. She was a young girl whose family had been attacked by one of the strongest wizards of the age- she had everything to fear. He'd think her insane if she didn't. It was unfair of him to think less of her. But then, he feared Voldemort as well. And he'd defeated him despite that.

His thoughts heavy, he levitated the wardrobe from the back of the room. He'd been advised to start the next lesson and leave well enough alone, but Harry was adamant. Even though the fun had been taken out of the boggart lesson, he felt he needed to finish what he started. The students would just have to grin and bear it.

"Today we will continue with the boggart lesson. Everyone line up." Harry said, voice short and strained.

The class was considerably less eager this time around, students clumping towards the back. Remus watched the professor for a moment before joining the students- Cutter's strained voice hadn't gotten past him. Something about the man rubbed him the wrong way. Something was off.

And then there was the boggart. When Lily had fainted and the professor had stepped in front of her to fight the boggart, he hadn't defeated it, only pushed it back into the wardrobe. For someone who was forcing his students to face their fear and all that, he didn't seem to be living up to that standard himself. And then there was the man the boggart had become- who was he? He didn't look like Cutter whatsoever. He was familiar, but Remus just couldn't place who he reminded him of…

One thing was for sure, he couldn't be trusted.

When the class had settled, James stood at the front of the line, fixing his gaze at Harry. He raised his chin, mouth in a straight line across his face. This professor was a mystery, and had been the cause of much grief in a short amount of time. That prank will have to be a good one.

Harry, noticing James' gaze, raised a questioning eyebrow in his direction. I suppose he isn't very happy about what happened to Lily, Harry thought.

"Mr. Potter, you will be up first. Remember, the charm is Ridikkulus."

Harry turned to the wardrobe, flicking his wand silently. The door slowly creaked open, the only sound in the dimly lit room.

Despite the brave- and amused- face James was sporting, he'd rather be anywhere than standing in front of that boggart. Sure, he'd encountered a boggart before and knew how to do the spell correctly, but that wasn't the point. It made him all too vulnerable to have his worst fear on display for the whole class to see. James hated that- being caught out in front of others. He needed to be in control of what people thought of him. Trust Professor Cutter to do what could be the most embarrassing lesson ever conceived.

With a comical grin, and a slight swagger, he took his place in front of the boggart, steeling himself to think of anything more frightening than what he knew the boggart would become. With a bitter laugh, he thought compared to Lily's fear, mine is nothing. And yet I'm barely standing here. And yet, he felt he owed Lily to face the boggart. If that would make her see him, then that's what he would do.

A clawed foot was the first to appear, sliding across the floor as a dark shadow fell from the wardrobe- then the door slammed on its hinges, revealing the maw of a snarling dragon. The long tongue licked the air, teeth bright yellow against its dark scales.

James started to take a step back, before remembering the students behind him. He set his jaw, hand searching for the wand he forgot to have ready. The head moved forward, dragging the long, bony neck behind it. Another foot appeared from the black of the wardrobe- James took in a shuddering breath. It was huge. So huge, it almost looked like it wouldn't be able to…

James' lips tugged sideways. He raised his wand, hand still shaking, but this time with mirth.

"Ridikkulus!"

The dragon tried to pull forward, the wardrobe shaking at its efforts to pull its shoulders through the door. It slammed its clawed feet into the floor, hoping to gain the leverage to pull through, only resulting in rocking the wardrobe further. It began to snarl, saliva dripping from its great mouth as it shrieked in frustration.

James snickered at its efforts, looking over his shoulder at the rest of the class. Sirius was being held up by Remus, who was having his own trouble keeping alright. He looked over at Professor Cutter, who smiled broadly at him before directing him to the back of the line.

As he made his way back, James glanced towards the front, noting it was Sirius who was next. He silently prayed he wouldn't have any trouble.

After the mirth had left his mind, Sirius realized it was his turn. He frowned, becoming peeved. What the hell had the professor been thinking? Sure, the other DADA professors had brought in creatures for practice, but this was ridiculous. Boggarts weren't particularly rare or strong monsters, the only danger posed was humiliation- and there had been plenty of that. Internally he was angry that not only James- who, being one of the top students, by all means should have been able to defeat the boggart- but also Peter, the self-proclaimed coward had too. He knew it wouldn't be that simple for himself.

In the back of his mind, Sirius didn't want to know what his greatest fear would be. Knowing would only mean he'd have to face it- and Sirius refused to admit he had any fears at all. Admitting it would open a can of worms he wished to stay closed.

And so he had no idea what to expect as he walked the few paces towards the boggart. He pushed a smile on his face, turning his gaze towards the professor. You evil, evil bastard, he thought Somewhat satisfied at his internal declaration, he waited for the boggart to commence his humiliation.

The transformation was comparably anti-climactic. He had to blink for a moment before he realized it'd already finished. And there he stood- confused.

Her face was thinner than he remembered, not that he had ever paid much attention to her face. It was the voice that always kept your attention. Briefly he wondered why she wasn't screaming- which of course set it off.

"You ungrateful skank! How dare you associated with filthy Mudbloods and blood-traitors! YOU INSOLENT BRAT!"

Sirius grabbed at his ears, trying to push the words back out. But, as they always had, they found his mind quickly.

"You're nothing but a bastard and a traitor, we raised you with the best of everything and this is how you repay us! You INSOLENT, MUDBLOOD-LOVING FAG!"

He jerked back, closing his eyes as he waited for her to begin the hitting… but it never came. Peeking through his hands- he felt like such a child doing so- his eyes were met with the sight of Cutter's back.

Remus' eyes narrowed. Once it became obvious Sirius wouldn't be defeating the boggart, Professor Cutter stepped in front of him- too little, too late, he thought. He felt bad for Sirius. He was cowering behind his hands, unable to speak. Next to him, James looked mortified. James had been the only other one to ever have stepped foot in Sirius' home, though they all knew what it was like for the scraggly-haired young man. But it wasn't something he'd want the whole class to know.

The blond man had returned, smirking in their professor's direction. Looking down, Remus could see the man's hands shaking, the only reaction he could discern from his schooled features. What a hypocrite, he thought.

"Mr. Black, if you would go to the back of the line please." His voice broke as he spoke. Harry cursed internally. He swallowed, hoping his nervousness would go with it. It didn't.

He looked over his shoulder at the next student. It was a Slytherin, still staring in shock at the boggart. Please, and if they couldn't guess that about the Black family. He turned to the student.

"Mr. Parkinson, will you please come to the front of the room so we may continue the lesson?"

The Slytherin's eyes moved back to Harry before scowling, but grudgingly walked to the front of the room.

The rest of the lesson went without a hitch. Rats, clowns, dogs, bats, fear after fear. By the time the last student made their way to the back of the room, and James was once again at the front of the line, the solemn air about the room had broken, replaced by a subdued mirth.

Harry smiled. For the most part, the students had everyday, run of the mill fears. It calmed his mind a bit to know that at least for a little while, these students who would be plunged into the war had been able to be normal teenagers.

With the exception of Snape, Sirius and his mother, he thought. How cruel fate could be.

Remus was staring at him again. Harry ignored it- he'd have to deal with that later.

"Wonderful job today, all of you. I'm very proud of your progress. This concludes the lesson on boggarts." He paused, making sure he had everyone's attention before continuing. "However, there is the issue of your papers. While the practical work you have done is stupendous, I'm afraid your written assignments are not up to par. If I were to grade them now, only a few of you would be receiving passing grades."

He waited for this to sink in, not missing the mutters and slurs. "This isn't History of Magic. This is Defense Against the Dark Arts. We center around the Dark Arts, which are always changing- and so defense against them is a fallible subject. As such, in order to properly defend, you must understand the theory and draw your own conclusions. What I received was a pile of book reports. If you want to pass this class, you must think for yourselves."

He went to his desk and jerked his wand in the direction of the students. The two piles of paper lying on his desk came to life, one parchment making their way to each student as he spoke.

"I want you all to rewrite both your papers- the one you turned in last lesson and the one you have for this one. Do it correctly this time. Due next class. Lesson dismissed."

He purposely missed the inappropriate gestures aimed his way.

The class filed out- he suppressed a smile at the crumpling of papers behind him as he fiddled with the remaining parchment on his desk. His eyes wandered out the window where the sun had just reached its zenith. The rumbling in his stomach reminded him of his skipping of breakfast- he'd woken up late. It was strange not having Draco to wake him up if he overslept.

He turned to the door, Draco still on his mind, and was surprised to see Remus standing a few feet away, eyes solemn.

"Not everyone defeated the boggart."

Harry blinked, looking between Sirius, Peter and James, who were standing behind Remus, supposing this was another set up. Except they look just as confused as I am, he thought. He looked back at the young werewolf, trying to understand.

"I'm well aware that Miss Evans and Mr. Black did not defeat the boggart, but their situation is different than the rest of the-"

"I'm not talking about them, sir."

Harry blinked, not understanding. Best to let him explain, then.

"Very well, Mr. Lupin. Who is it that hasn't defeated the boggart?"

Remus straightened- Harry noticed his hair was standing at all angles, probably from the full moon the past night. Yet he seemed to be handling it better than he remembered he had. Of course, he was younger now.

"You, sir. You have faced the boggart twice, but you have yet to defeat it yourself. Don't you think that's a little hypocritical of you? Why should you expect more of your students than you expect of yourself?"

Remus knew he was being out of line- he blamed it on the full moon. It was still heavy on his nerves. But still, the professor was being unreasonable. It felt wrong for a professor to be teaching a lesson on something he hadn't shown he could do himself.

Harry took a step towards Remus, hoping by sheer size alone he could intimidate the young man enough for his blatant lie to go unnoticed.

"Mr. Lupin, I'll have you know the safety of my students is first and foremost on my mind. If I was to take the time to defeat the boggart when Ms. Evans faced it, it may have attacked another student while my attention was focused on getting her to the hospital wing. As for today, I didn't feel it prudent to show my own skill facing the boggart- we had many students to get through in a short amount of time, and I wouldn't want to waste it showing off."

He took another step towards him- suddenly glad for his new height. He was sure if he was in his own body this tactic would have no effect on the boy- If he was even having one now.

Remus straightened to his full height, head raised toward his professor.

"Prove it. Defeat the boggart, right here, now."

Apparently he wasn't.

Harry shook his head, sighing in exasperation before returning to his desk.

"I will not have a conversation on my ability as your professor, Mr. Lupin. I was hired by Dumbledore because he believed I was best suited for the job- that is all you need know. While I admire your bravery and willingness to question the abilities of your mentors, I must warn you my patience wears thin. You're barking up the wrong tree, Mr. Lupin."

He could see the anger radiating off the man- or maybe he couldn't, but by all means he should have. He could practically see his words in the wolf's eyes as he weighed his options.

Remus, deciding it was a losing battle, let out his breath and started towards the door. His shoulder jarred against Sirius as he passed, and Peter backed away. They exchanged a look as they headed out the door.

The mirror rippled as the figure passed- a ghastly black that flitted through the dungeon corridors. His hopes and dreams were muddled in his glee, leaving his reflection a dull murk that belied his keen awareness.

It was easier than he thought it would be. It was pathetic how weak the professors were in this time- it was no wonder the potions master would soon be replaced. He brought the thick black bag in front of him, brushing his fingers across the leather strap subconsciously.

He walked to the left of the corridor, fingers feeling the cold stone. It should be here somewhere… His fingers encountered a small patch of warmth, which he pressed firmly with two fingers. Behind him, a cool breeze signaled the opening of dark hallway.

Holding up his wand after casting lumos, he made his way down the corridor. The contents of the bag at his side clinked together, echoing in the empty corridor.

Finally, he came about a dimly lit, damp room. To one side was a large painting, a large cobra slithering within the silver frame. Below it, a pool of robes covered a small, immobile figure.

Nyle dropped the bag to his side of the figure as he pulled the silver knife from its sheath.

"I just don't trust him, that's all," Remus said, head hanging low as he sat on the couch in the Gryffindor common room. Next to him, Peter was glaring at him as James and Sirius sat on the floor over a blank slip of parchment. Sirius suddenly jumped up, scowling at James.

"God dammit, James, just let me fix this, alright?"

James glowered at him, picking the parchment back up.

"What the hell do you know? You're doing the charm wrong! If you keep going like that, we're going to have to start over!"

Of course they didn't hear a word I said, Remus thought. He picked up a couch pillow, slamming it angrily against the couch. God, I'm like a five-year-old with a temper tantrum.

"Will you two listen!"

Slightly startled at their friend's outburst, James and Sirius watched Remus for a few seconds before Sirius spoke.

"What's got you in a tizzy? I mean, I agree with you that the guy's a bastard, but that's no reason to go all ballistic."

Remus concluded that was the most mature and well thought out logic to ever leave Sirius' mouth. Unfortunately, it wasn't the time or the place to be surprisingly rational- Remus wasn't.

"Look, don't you find this odd at all? He brings in a boggart and forces us all to face it, resulting in the injury of a student, and he doesn't even face it himself! In fact he refuses! What the hell kind of teacher doesn't show he's capable of the exact thing he asks his students of?"

Remus looked at his friends, Sirius and James staring at his outburst, Peter looking about ready to burst.

"And think about it. We saw his boggart twice, and each time it was a blond-haired blue-eyed guy resembling Lucius Malfoy. Remember him? Long blond-hair, dark wizard. Does that say anything to you?"

James slowly looked at Sirius, before turning back to Remus.

"I'm sorry Rem, but I think you're getting a little out of hand with this. I mean sure, the boggart lesson seemed just a little… well, pointless, and I'm pretty pissed at him for doing that to Lily, but it's not that odd for him not to participate, none of the teachers do. You don't see them taking their own quizzes and tests, its irrelevant. And besides that, if his boggart really is Lucius Malfoy-"

"I said looks like him, not is him."

James sighed before continuing, "If he is associated with Lucius Malfoy, wouldn't it make sense that he's his greatest fear? It's not like the boggart shows their greatest love or anything like that. I think you're making too much out of this, really. You're supposed to be the sensible one, you know."

James sat down on the couch, next to where Remus was now sulking. Sirius sat back down on the floor, waving his wand back and fourth as he focused on the parchment.

"I just don't trust him, okay?" Remus concluded, half-heartedly.

Surprisingly, it was Peter who replied- he had been bubbling to do so since the conversation started. His voice started out strong- surprising the rest of the marauders- but the force ebbed away until he was whispering as he finished.

"I don't see why you're being so critical of Professor Cutter. I think he's a great teacher, he- he helped a lot. I've never been able to do a lesson on the first go."

He dropped his eyes, not looking at Remus. Which was fine, because Remus was doing a spectacular job of not looking at him. James jumped up suddenly, surprising them all. He turned towards Remus, grinning.

"Well, if it would please you my dear Remus, perhaps we should plan an initiation for our wonderful Professor Cutter."

Remus stared at him as the word usage dawned on him. A prank, huh? Normally it would be Remus to tell them to be reasonable, to think it through, and above all, don't get caught. But this time…

"That sounds splendid my dear James, what say you our dear Sirius?"

Sirius jumped up, waving the parchment in the air excitedly.

"Voila!"

James blinked. "That's not the right response, idiot!"

Sirius jumped over to James, smacking him on the head with the parchment. "No, dumbass, 'Voila!' as in, the map is done!"

A/N: Anal-Retentive- Indicating personality traits, such as meticulousness, avarice, and obstinacy, originating in habits, attitudes, or values associated with infantile pleasure in retention of feces.

This update took too long, and isn't that great. So much going on right now! Hopefully the next update will be sooner, and better.

B/N: Bonjour everyone! I'm here to inform you that Muse and I have started a Yahoo group. Please feel free to join. You'll be able to know the minute a chapter is uploaded along with some other stuff we threw in to make your reading experience better (omg, I'm so retarded). The link is in my profile ( http/ www . fanfiction . net / bandgeek2006 (take out spaces)) at the bottom. Much thanks to our first real (and currently only) member, trampyvamp17. Much love! I'm the one who's been pressuring Muse to get the chapter written faster but I'm sure if you guys leave some wonderful reviews, she won't need my pressuring. :) Go U.N.I.C.I.P.! Ayez un jour splendide! (Have a splendid day!)