Remus handed Peter a small piece of parchment, and Peter wrinkled his nose. "Parchment? Really? I was just about the first person you'd ever met since you were a toddler and you give me parchment?"

"How did you know that?" asked Remus, slightly alarmed.

"You told me."

Oh. Right. Remus really needed to read that Booklet of his more often—and probably stop panicking at every tiny minor thing. "Okay. Well. It's not just parchment, it's a clue. Read it."

Peter unfolded it and read the contents. "Macbeth. Act 4, Scene 1. What's that supposed to mean?"

James and Sirius' heads swiveled around to face Remus, and James gaped. "It's a scavenger hunt," he said excitedly. "You got Peter a scavenger hunt?!"

"Er... yeah. If he wants."

James shot up straight into the air as if he had been propelled by pure bliss. "This is the perfect Marauder Christmas activity! Come on, Marauders! Follow me! Library!"

Sirius groaned. "Please, anywhere but there..."

"Library!" said James again. "I'm not happy about it either, but... wow! You can come along, Remus. But no helping."

Remus smiled and followed his excitable friends out of the room.

"Madam Pince!" shouted James as he entered the library. "We are on assignment! A glorious Marauder assignment about Mac and Cheese!"

"Macbeth," said Remus, but Sirius hushed him.

"No helping, remember?" he reminded Remus. "None at all. Not even a little bit."

Madam Pince hissed at James and Sirius and slammed her pointer finger to her mouth. "Mr. Potter! Mr. Black! This is a library, and you will be quiet!"

James lowered his voice, but only slightly. He was positively shaking with excitement. "So where's the Mac and Cheese?" he said, practically bouncing up and down. Merlin's beard. Remus hadn't expected him to be that excited. It wasn't even James' present—it was Peter's.

"Find it yourself! Ask your friend, he spends plenty of time in here." said Madam Pince. She gave Remus a furious look, and Remus quailed slightly. "I'd check Aisle 5B if I were you," she muttered (to herself, but Remus heard her). And he knew exactly what was in Aisle 5B. He felt his heart crack like the spine of a badly-treated book.

James heard her, too. "What's in Aisle 5B?" he said, cocking his head and ruffling his hair.

"Dark creatures," Remus mumbled. It had been a slight—a reference to Remus' lycanthropy because of course no one could speak to him without referencing it. And now he had to cover it up somehow and erase all elements of suspicion... how was he going to do that? After a moment's thought, he added, "I think that Madam Pince was mistaken, though. Macbeth includes Dark magic, but no Dark creatures. There's a difference."

Remus shot a glance at Madam Pince, who was currently hiding behind a very large book. He breathed. In through his nose. Out through his mouth.

"So what is Macbeth, anyway?" whispered Sirius. "Oh, be quiet, James. I changed my mind. He can help us a little. Give us a hint, at least... since Irma isn't helping."

"Shakespeare," said Remus. "That's all I'll tell you."

Remus was very proud of this scavenger hunt; he'd designed the questions specifically to be things that he and Peter had covered in their study sessions, but Sirius and James probably wouldn't know. Shakespeare, being a Muggle poet, was well-known to people like Questus (who seemed to know everything), but probably not to two sheltered, eleven-year-old Purebloods (well, Sirius was twelve). Remus glanced at Peter, who seemed to be thinking very hard.

"Hang on," said Peter slowly. "I've heard of him. Something about witches and... how some people suspected that he had come across real witches and used them as inspiration... I wrote about it on my essay on the Statute of Secrecy that you helped me write..." Peter's eyes lit up. "Plays! He wrote plays! A Muggle playwright! And Macbeth is a famous play!"

"Well done!" Remus whispered, and then, to Sirius and James: "That's one for Peter. You two had better keep up."

Sirius scowled. "Oh, it's on."

"The play section is Aisle 16," said Remus, "since Madam Pince won't tell you."

The four of them hurried to Aisle 16 (Peter leading the way because James and Sirius had never before set foot in the library) and found Macbeth only seconds later. "I can't believe they have Muggle books here," muttered Sirius. "They must be dreadfully boring."

James gave him a dark look. "What do you mean, mate?"

"Because... they're Muggles. Right?"

"Muggles can write books just as well as wizards," said Remus helpfully. "My mum's a much better storyteller than my dad, and she's Muggle."

Sirius groaned. "This is so complicated. I'm never, ever gonna be able to learn all this about Muggles. Not in a million years."

"It's not that complicated," said James. "Muggles can do everything that we can, except magic."

"Sorry," said Sirius. He didn't seem all that sincere, though: he was already examining Macbeth. Sirius' attention span left much to be desired. "This book looks absolutely horrendous, though—Muggle author or no."

James took it right out of Peter's hands (which Remus thought was very rude) and opened to Act 4. "Scene I. A Cavern. In the middle, a boiling cauldron..." His eyes widened, and he accidentally shouted: "Potions! Potions room!"

"SHHHHH!" said Pince. "All four of you. Out! You've talked entirely too much!"

Remus' face burned. Pince had already disliked him, and now there was absolutely no hope whatsoever. "Sorry, ma'am," he whispered, and then, together, the Marauders practically ran out of the library.

Professor Slughorn was in the Potions classroom, unfortunately, which was something that Remus had not anticipated. His friends, however, barged into the classroom before Remus could even warn them, and Professor Slughorn very nearly dropped the papers that he was grading. "Boys, boys! It's a Saturday, you know. I didn't know that you liked Potions that much!"

"Sorry, Horace," said James, completely unashamed, "but we're solving a mystery."

"What kind of mystery?" chortled Slughorn.

"A huge mystery," said Sirius, stretching out his arms, and Peter nodded furiously.

"Well. I suppose I can allow some mystery-solving. Ah, Remus Lupin! How nice to see you!"

Remus fiddled with his jacket and tried to smile at Slughorn. "Hello, Professor."

"You know, I'm having a party on the evening of the twenty-second. Just before everyone leaves for Christmas vacation. You're invited, of course!"

"Thank you, sir," said Remus uncomfortably. "I'm afraid I'm not interested, though."

"Whyever not?" said Slughorn. "I'm inviting you and James, and each of you can bring one friend. So Pettigrew and Sirius can come along, of course!" Slughorn waggled his finger at Sirius with a wink. "No practical jokes, Mr. Black!"

A Christmas party led by Slughorn, Remus thought, would have to improve a lot just to be awful. "Peter can go without me. I'm really not..."

"Remus, my boy! Give me a reason, at least!"

James stepped in front of Remus defensively. "He's just not a party person, that's all. There's nothing wrong with that. Peter can go in his place."

Remus' insides lit up a little at the sight of James defending him like that. His friend! He smiled a little in spite of himself. "If you're certain," said Slughorn, now disappointed. "You're still welcome to come if you change your mind last-minute, Remus! I'll extend the sole invitation to Pettigrew, then. Well, then. What's your mystery?"

"Yeah, Remus, what are we looking for?" said Peter, who was absolutely glowing at the invitation to the Slug Club.

"Sorry, mate, I'm not allowed to help," said Remus, and Peter sighed and got to searching the empty cauldrons with James and Sirius. Remus watched. He felt oddly powerful: he was, after all, the only one in the room who knew where the clue was.

"Ooh, let's check the storeroom!" said Sirius, and the three ran into the cupboards. Remus was alone in the room with Slughorn, and he was now very uncomfortable.

"I'm quite curious about this mystery," said Slughorn after a moment of drawn-out, awkward silence.

"I... well, we're celebrating Christmas today. So I made them a scavenger hunt of sorts to celebrate."

"So you put a clue in the Potions room last night while I was out?"

Remus froze. "Er, yes. Early morning. I knocked, but no one answered." That wasn't true. Remus had known that Slughorn wasn't in there, thanks to his enhanced senses. It had been before curfew, and he hadn't wanted to get caught.

"Bit of a rule-breaker, aren't we?" said Slughorn, winking. Remus rather wanted to burrow into the ground.

"Not usually, sir... but it's for Peter, so..."

"Ah, right. You'd do anything for your pack of friends, wouldn't you?"

Remus blinked.

"Was that offensive?"

Remus blinked again.

Pack.

Was he? Forming an animalistic sort of pack? Surrendering to his wolfish nature... following his instincts? Was that why he always felt so happy about his friends and why he had been so joyful when James had defended him? Was that why he helped them out all the time and why he loved to joke around and have pillow fights? Playful... wolfishness? Was this a normal, eleven-year-old thing... or a thing that monsters did? Remus felt ill.

Slughorn waved his hand in front of Remus' face. "Hellooo. Terribly sorry. I asked if I've offended you."

Remus blinked a third time. "A... a little, sir," he admitted, though offend wasn't quite the right word. He started towards the potions cabinet at a very brisk pace. "I mean... yeah. No. I'm fine. Only joining my friends in the search..."

He entered the cabinet as quickly as possible and shut the door behind him. Inside the cabinet, James and Sirius were hoisting Peter up into the air to search the higher shelves, and Peter was grinning like mad. Remus saw the same joy on Peter's face as was often on his... the amazing feeling of being liked, casual closeness and camaraderie. Remus wasn't the only one. So it couldn't be a werewolf thing, could it? Unless Peter was secretly a werewolf.

Remus laughed to himself and closed the door behind him.

Peter: the sweet, kind boy who was so often unsure of himself, so innocent, so kind. A werewolf.

The thought was ridiculous.

Sirius had been the one to find the clue. It was only a bit of parchment tucked under the spare cauldron by the door: Remus hadn't been quite brave enough to go any further in the classroom.

"Ahpwubuhd," read Sirius confidently. "Someone fetch me my dictionary, I have no clue what this means."

"It's not ahpwubuhd, you daft idiot," said James. "It's A.P.W.B.D. An acronym? What's it supposed to stand for?"

"A Potter Who's Being Dumb," said Sirius. "For calling me a daft idiot."

"Apple Pie Would Be Delicious," mused James. "Let's get some after this."

Peter's face scrunched up. "A Party... With... Dung Beetles. Herbology?"

"That's stupid," said Sirius dismissively. "Remus would never give us a clue that obscure. And you've got the B and the D mixed up."

"It's probably an accepted acronym. Like, official," said James, and Slughorn clapped his hands.

"I've got it!" he all but squealed. "You're very clever, Remus. Hats off."

Remus smiled, but it ended up being more of a grimace. "Thank you, sir."

"Come on, lads, Horace can't get it before us," said James impatiently. "A... P... W... B... D..."

"Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore!" shouted Peter, and Sirius and James stared at him in disbelief. "Remus thought if I learned an acronym then I'd remember it better. When he was teaching me the names."

"Surprised you didn't get it earlier, then," said Sirius. The fact that Peter was two-for-two was, evidently, a blow to Sirius Black's pride. "Dumbledore's office, then. What are you waiting for?"

Peter's joy was not dampened by Sirius' slight, and the four Marauders were running down the corridor in half a second flat.

Remus leaned against the wall, grinning. His friends were searching everywhere outside of Dumbledore's office. The clue was in the left gargoyle's mouth, but—surprisingly—they hadn't seen it yet. Suddenly, Peter crossed his arms in frustration. "I can't find it anywhere!"

"It's here," said Remus lightly. "Keep looking."

"We've checked everywhere! The floor! The hinge! The knob! Even inside the gargoyles' mouths..."

Remus' mouth fell open. "You have?"

James turned around. "Is that where you put it?"

"Yes! I wonder if someone took it...?"

"I bet it was Albus Percival Wulfric Brian," James grumbled. "Only one way to find out. HEY, ALBUS! PERCIVAL! WULFRIC! Mmph!"

Remus had stuck his hand over James' mouth. "Quiet! It's ten in the morning. Maybe he's sleeping..."

But Dumbledore wasn't sleeping. Remus could hear his breathing and pacing from inside his office... and now he was walking towards the door. It opened, and there he was—and, what's more, he was wearing a very bright and Christmas-y outfit. "Ah, tidings of joy and all that," he said serenely. "What brings you four here at such a time?"

"Mmph-mmph," said James, and Remus quickly took his hand off of James' mouth. "A mystery," repeated James. "Have you seen a spare bit of parchment? Inside a gargoyle's mouth?"

"I have," said Dumbledore. "At about seven o'clock I exited my office to find a lavatory, and I happened to come across it. The rest of the morning was spent making my way around the castle. The scavenger hunt is very well put-together, I must say. Even if the mysterious creator was probably out of bed before curfew to set it up."

"I'll let you know if we find the perpetrator, sir," said Remus, and Sirius giggled. "But we really need that clue."

"Ah. Well. I've put it somewhere else in the castle, I'm afraid."

"Where?" said Peter, alarmed.

Dumbledore handed them a neat square of parchment with spidery handwriting that Remus recognized as Dumbledore's. "Where, you ask? That is the question, isn't it?" He winked and retreated back into his office.

"Roman Mythology Simplified. Page 27," James read. His eyes were sparkling. "Let's go, Marauders. Back to the library!"

Madam Pince was, obviously, not happy to see them back. "Not a word out of any of you," she hissed, and Remus cringed.

He pointed in the direction of Aisle 6C (Mythology), and his friends scurried after him. Sure enough, there was the book. Remus removed it as carefully as possible, trying very hard to avoid getting fingerprints on the glossy cover. His fingers were dry, but he didn't dare lick them before flipping through the pages. Werewolf saliva, he reflected, was cursed. Did it have any grim effects after slight, non-full-moon contact? No, but it never hurt to be careful.

Page 19... page 30... page 26... page 27. "Minerva," Remus whispered as softly as possible. "This passage is about Minerva. Roman goddess of wisdom and war."

"Minerva McGonagall!" shouted James, and Madam Pince was shooing them out of the library before Remus could even blink.

Sirius knocked on the door to Transfiguration classroom. "Yoo-hoo! Minerva! We have an important question!"

McGonagall opened the door and surveyed the Marauders sternly. "My name is Professor McGonagall. Five points from Gryffindor."

Sirius was not fazed. "Did Albus Percival Wulfric Brian give you anything for me?"

"No, Mr. Black. Nothing. But he did give me something for Mr. Pettigrew."

"Where is it?" asked Peter.

McGonagall smiled—almost mischievously—and handed Peter a feather. "That's for me to know and you to find out."

"Owlery!" said James and Sirius in perfect unison. They dashed out of the room, but Remus stayed back a second to reluctantly give McGonagall another point.

Remus' bones hurt. His muscles hurt. It was only eleven days until the full moon, and walking through the snow and up what seemed like millions of stairs was not doing anything for his health. But he barely felt it—or, at least, he was very good at ignoring it—because he was so incredibly happy.

The owls were flitting around the room, and the Owlery smelt very, very strongly of their excrement. Remus wrinkled his nose. Even though he had been there many times before, it was still thoroughly unpleasant every time. Bufo was afraid of the owls, Remus could tell, so he put him in his pocket for the time being.

"There!" said James, and his voice startled several owls. He was pointing to a large black owl that was flying near the top of the tower. "That one's got something on its wing."

"How did you know that?" said Remus. On second thought, there was something on its wing. But it was small and faint, and Remus was very impressed that James had spotted it so quickly.

"Seeker eyes!" crowed James. "I could play any position."

"'Course you could," said Sirius. "Er, how are we going to get it, though? It's not as if you have a broom or anything, Master Quidditch Star."

"Dunno," said James. "This is where my expertise ends."

Sirius looked at James. James looked at Sirius. Remus looked at Peter. Peter looked at James.

"Accio Owl," said Sirius.

Before Remus could even blink, the owl came shooting towards Sirius' face: a flurry of hoots, feathers, and yells. Sirius stumbled backwards, holding the struggling owl with two hands. "REMUS! JAMES! Come help!"

"I would," said Remus, nicking Sirius' camera and snapping a few pictures, "but this is far too entertaining."

James jumped to Sirius' rescue and helped him wrangle the owl. Remus and Peter were laughing so hard they could barely breathe at the sight of James and Sirius, covered in owl droppings, horrified looks on their faces as they struggled to keep the terrified owl under control.

The owl eventually escaped, leaving Sirius sitting on the floor on his bum and James' hair even more tangled than usual. "I didn't see it, but it was words," said James. "On the owl's wing, I mean. Let's have another go."

"It said hospital," said Peter timidly.

"What?"

"Hospital. That's what its wing said. You know, Hospital Wing. We saw it when Remus zoomed in with the camera."

"You mean to tell me," said Sirius dangerously as he stood up, "That you two knew what was on the owl's wing the whole time?"

"Yes," said Remus and Peter.

The next thing that Remus knew, he was being dangled out the window.

Miraculously, he arrived at the Hospital Wing uninjured. Madam Pomfrey was tending to a Slytherin student who had crashed into the potions cabinet. There were potions all over the floor. Fortunately, none of the glass was broken: wizarding glass was very durable and often charmed. "Mr. Lupin. I assume you're not here for a check-up," she said.

Remus shook his head as fast as he possibly could, very thankful that he had told his friends that he was chronically ill so that the assumption wouldn't be suspicious. "Do you have anything for us? For Peter, maybe?"

"I do, actually," she said. "But first, I need some help sorting out some potions. I'll be sure to hand it over once these are sorted alphabetically. Miss Garcia here has accidentally knocked over my cabinet."

The Slytherin gave Madam Pomfrey a guilty look. James and Sirius giggled a bit, and the four Marauders got set to ordering the potions. Every so often, Remus caught Madam Pomfrey staring at him in a very uncomfortable manner, and he figured that she was trying to find an extremely sneaky way to check his health. He tried to act as energetic and happy as possible. The last thing he needed right now was more time in the Hospital Wing.

Remus had spent hours staring at the identical potions cabinet in Madam Pomfrey's office, so he knew exactly where everything went by smell and color: he didn't even need to read the labels in many cases. He did, however, try to slow down a bit so that his friends wouldn't suspect.

Finally, they got the potions sorted. "Poppy, we're done!" said James cheerfully.

"Don't call me Poppy," said Madam Pomfrey.

"Have you got anything for us?"

Madam Pomfrey sighed and pulled a piece of parchment out of her pocket. "I suppose. Professor McGonagall gave this to me; it's Dumbledore's handwriting. I don't know what it means, but she said that you four might come by."

Sirius snatched it out of her hand and read it quickly. His eyes lit up, and he started running down the corridor. James and Peter followed suit before Remus could even blink.

"Er, thank you Madam Pomfrey," he said, now alone in the Hospital Wing with Madam Pomfrey and the Garcia girl.

"I don't want you running all over the castle," said Madam Pomfrey sternly. "Tell them to slow down if you need to. Be responsible, Remus."

Remus glanced at Garcia, who was listening intently. "Just because I look more responsible doesn't mean I am. I'm an eleven-year-old boy." He gave her a small salute and then dashed out of the Hospital Wing without looking back.

"I suppose you are," he heard her say as he ran after his friends. His bones didn't even hurt that much today.

"What did the... clue say?" Peter half-panted, half-shouted. They had already scaled a set of stairs, and Remus and Peter had slowed to a brisk walk. James and Sirius had not slowed down; they were at least twenty feet ahead of Peter and Remus.

"It's a drawing!" yelled Sirius. "Of Merlin! And there's a portrait just like it outside DAD!"

"How do you notice these things?" Remus heard James say. "I haven't even noticed it, and I have a brilliant memory."

"I dunno, I just do. My family idolizes Merlin. He was in Slytherin, they say. I think it's just a rumor, personally, but they believe it. COME ON, LUPIN! PETTIGREW! HURRY UP!"

"It's not a race!" called Remus. "The clue's not going anywhere!"

"WHAT?"

"I said it's not a race!"

"I CAN'T HEAR YOU, BUT I ASSUME IT'S SOME DAFT REASONING AS TO WHY WE SHOULDN'T BE RUNNING, TO WHICH I RESPOND: IT'S MORE FUN THIS WAY!"

Remus groaned and sped up a little. Bufo croaked from his shoulder a bit; he didn't like it when Remus ran. "Shut up, Bufo," Remus grumbled. "This is hurting me way more than it's hurting you."

It felt like years before they arrived at the Merlin portrait. Remus was breathing very heavily when they arrived, and there were a few spots in front of his eyes. He leaned against the wall and waited for his eyesight to clear. He couldn't even remember the last time that he had run this much.

Although the door was closed, Remus heard Professor Questus' quill scratching faintly. He hoped that Questus wouldn't hear them; he didn't particularly feel like talking to Professor Questus today. Especially not now, when Remus was still panting mercilessly from the rare physical activity.

"Where is it?" said Sirius, running his hands all over the portrait. "I know this is right!"

James took the parchment from Sirius' hand. Remus caught a glance of the parchment: it was a very neat sketch done in sparkling green ink. "Woah, you're right," said James. "Uncanny. Same outfit and everything. S'not fair that Albus can draw so well."

The Merlin in the portrait was sleeping, as he usually was. Remus wondered why portraits needed to sleep. It wasn't as if they were human. He resolved to look it up in the library later... if, of course, Madam Pince ever let him back in. Which was unlikely, to say the least.

Suddenly, Professor Questus' quill stopped scratching, and Remus heard him stand up. "Sirius," hissed Remus. "Sirius, stop touching the portrait—Professor Questus is coming...!"

"Touching a portrait isn't illegal," Sirius scoffed.

"It's frowned upon! Sirius..."

"How do you know he's coming? You can't very well hear anything past this thick door. I don't care how good your hearing is."

"I'd listen to your friend if I were you," said Merlin, opening his eyes slowly. "He knows what he's talking about."

Remus' heart stopped. He prayed with all his might that Merlin didn't know... or at least wouldn't say anything...!

"You don't know anything. You're only a portrait," said Sirius, and James poked him in the shoulder.

"That's Merlin! Be respectful!" he whispered.

"But it's not Merlin; it's a portrait..."

Suddenly, the door opened, and Professor Questus stepped out. "I don't know what you boys are doing, but you should probably stop manhandling my portrait of Merlin," he said. He almost looked amused, but Remus could never really tell with Professor Questus.

"John! So good to see you!" James said amicably. "We're looking for something. A bit of parchment, maybe? In either Remus' handwriting or Albus Percival Wulfric Brian's."

"This?" said Questus mildly, holding up a small piece of parchment that Remus recognized as one of the clues he had written. "Found it behind the portrait this morning and recognized Lupin's handwriting."

"Yes!" said Peter. "I think. May we have it, sir?"

"If you tell me what you're doing. I've been wondering why Lupin, of all people, would write down something so morbid and put it by the Merlin portrait."

Remus flushed, and Sirius laughed. "No one ever expects that sort of thing from Remus. What does the paper say?"

"I'll tell you, when you tell me what you're doing. I'm dreadfully curious."

Sirius looked like he wanted to argue more (though Remus couldn't think why), so Remus cut him off before he could accumulate another detention. "We're doing a scavenger hunt, sir. Most of us are leaving for Christmas, so we decided to celebrate early. This is my gift to Peter."

"Oh," said Questus. "Well, that makes sense. Here you are, then."

James snatched the parchment and read it aloud. "In a clamorous appealing to the mercy of the fire. Ooh! That's the poem that you read us earlier, Remus. In a clamorous appealing to the mercy of the fire, in a mad expossylation with the deaf and frantic fire..."

"Expostulation," Remus corrected, even though he knew that James was probably only joking around. "Do you know where it's from, then?"

"The one about the bells," said Sirius and James in unison.

"Bells," said Peter, a little late. "Bells. Where are bells?"

"Bell towers," said James. "Duh. Come on, let's go!"

Remus sighed and hurried after his friends, stealing a look at Professor Questus before he did so. The poor man looked absolutely bewildered, which was not a look that one often saw on his normally self-assured features.

Remus smiled.

There were four more clues before the scavenger hunt ended, and the Marauders were thoroughly knackered by the end of it all (except for James, who was as energetic as ever). Peter, much to Remus' happiness, had gotten them all. "Last clue," James said, picking up the square of parchment that they'd found under a rock by the Black Lake. "Ah, I'm so excited. This is brilliant. Okay. Here we go. The clue is: I've been here, but none of you have."

"I assume I means Remus?" said Sirius. "Er. I can't think of anything."

"Maybe the... no, we've been there."

"Dumbledore's office?"

"No, Peter. We decorated it."

"I can think of lots of places that we've been that Remus hasn't," said James. "Like the Quidditch Pitch. And the inside of the fountain, that time that Sirius fancied a swim and Remus was visiting his mum. And the middle of the Black Lake—another time that Sirius fancied a swim..."

"You'd all die without me," Remus interjected, shaking his head.

"I'm still alive, aren't I? But. Where has Remus been that we haven't? He's not adventurous in the slightest."

"I'll have you know..." Remus started, but he was interrupted by Peter's sudden squeal.

"Hagrid's!"

Remus smiled. "There we go. Peter's solved nearly all of them."

Peter grinned and led the way to Hagrid's hut, and the other three Marauders followed (James and Sirius were still sulking that Peter had showed them up, but Remus paid them no mind). They walked through Hagrid's pumpkin patch and knocked on the familiar door. Hagrid opened it almost immediately.

"Yeh mus' be Remus' friends! Good ter see yeh. He gave me summat to give ter yeh... ah, here it is. Come on in, I've made rock cakes!"

Hagrid handed Peter a gift (wrapped in the saved paper from Remus' Forgiveness Gift), and Peter opened it eagerly. It was Remus the Rock. An awful present, really, but Remus figured that the scavenger hunt more than made up for it.

Peter seemed to agree, fortunately. "Remus! It's Remus the Rock! Wow, this is brilliant. It's going right next to my bed, just like before. Wow. Thank you! That was the best Christmas I've ever had!"

"We could've just gone to classes and it still would've been the best Christmas I've ever had," said Sirius. "Anything's better than a five-hour dinner. The bar is set very low."

"It was the best Christmas anyone's ever had," said James firmly, and Remus was inclined to agree.

That night, he went to bed late. His head was spinning with images of opening presents in the morning, a thrilling scavenger hunt, eating disgusting cakes with Hagrid, Sirius sitting on the common room floor pasting photos in his album, James playing with his rubber ball in the cool air of the evening, and all four Marauders icing cakes after curfew—frosting on Sirius' nose and in James' hair, and Remus so elated that he did not even care about the terrified house-elfs. And the feast that they had collected for supper in their dormitory was wonderful.

Remus wished with all his heart that every Christmas could be like this one.

AN: Inspired by a scavenger hunt that I did with my own friends (except not at Hogwarts, obviously). We were all split up, and one of the tasks in the hunt was to take a picture of another person participating in the scavenger hunt. None of us ended up solving any of the clues—the rest of the day merely consisted of trying to take photos of each other and hiding from each other's cameras. I'd say we all won that one. Or lost, depending on your perspective.