It was Friday, April twenty-first: the day of the Defense Against the Dark Arts quiz. "Why are you so happy?" James asked Remus, and Remus only grinned. Remus had never felt so excited for time to pass a week before the full moon; usually, he savored every second and prayed that his human moments would stretch out forever. But today, he simply couldn't wait for afternoon.

He anxiously tapped his fingers on the desk nearly all day, to the point that even Peter started giving him dirty looks. Defense Against the Dark Arts arrived after a torturously slow period of time, and Remus nearly bounded into his seat next to Evans.

"You're cheerful, Lupin," she commented, and Remus smiled at her.

"Aren't I always?"

Evans' tone was surprisingly icy; typically, she was cordial towards Remus. "Your friends were bullying Severus yesterday. Is that why you're happy? You're thrilled that he cried for an hour yesterday evening?"

The smile dropped from Remus' face. "Er, no. I didn't know that. I'm sorry."

"You should be," she said, turning away from him frostily. Remus looked down at his desk.

He hadn't known about that, and he certainly hadn't expected it. His friends, after all, hadn't hexed Snape for a long time. They'd even ceased talking about him in the dormitory. Remus had thought that perhaps they'd lost interest...

But Remus wasn't as close to his friends as they were with each other. They'd spent hours in detention together away from him. He had to disappear for days on end every month. And, unlike his friends, he spent quite a bit of time studying on his own in the dormitory or library or common room. He had done so yesterday, in fact, while they romped for a bit outside. There was probably quite a bit that he didn't know about them. Perhaps they'd even been hexing people whenever Remus wasn't around.

"What—what did they do?" he whispered.

Evans rolled her eyes. "Don't pretend that they didn't gloat to you. They pushed Severus in front of the Whomping Willow. Said awful things about his family. Hexed him. It was only for a couple minutes—I suppose they didn't deem him important enough for more than that—but he was pretty upset. He cried for an hour."

Remus couldn't imagine Snape crying, but that wasn't why his chest felt so tight. No... it was because of the Whomping Willow. Remus' friends were using his own prison guard—his own torture chamber—as a means to hurt others. Remus consoled himself with the fact that they didn't mean to. Of course they didn't. There was a giant murder tree on the Hogwarts grounds, his friends were a reckless group of Gryffindor boys, and being batted around a bit by a tree really wasn't so much different from playing Quidditch (which was a sport that James readily enjoyed). Remus wasn't surprised that they took such a liking to a tree of which they didn't even know the significance.

But still.

Remus shook his head from side to side to get rid of the ocean noises and looked at Evans expectantly. "He's not hurt, is he?" he asked. If Snape was hurt, then it was all Remus' fault. He hadn't stopped his friends, he hadn't watched them more carefully, and he'd gone along with their bullying in the past and never made it clear that he didn't like it. Not to mention that he was the reason that the Willow was there, no matter what Dumbledore said...

"He's fine. Quicker than he looks, fortunately for him." Evans gave Remus a scrutinizing stare. "I don't want to blame you for the actions of your friends," she said in clipped tones. "But you never talked to them about it like I thought you were going to, did you? You promised, back after I yelled at you in Questus' classroom. Remember?"

Remus squirmed. He did remember. It was quite a long time ago—if his life were a book (which it wasn't), it would have been chapter fifty-two—but it had definitely happened. "Erm," he said.

"I thought not. Good luck on the quiz."

"And you as well," murmured Remus. He didn't need werewolf senses to sense that the conversation was over.

"Everyone, sit," said Professor Questus, briskly walking into the classroom and taking his place at the front as normal. "Quiz today. I hope you all paid attention in class. Books away, wands away, and quills out."

Remus looked back at Sirius and James, who were leaning back in their chairs lazily, and Peter, who looked worried. Remus gave Peter an encouraging thumbs-up. They'd revised for hours, and Remus knew that Peter was going to do well.

Here it was: the quiz. Remus knew what was coming, and he was so excited that he could barely sit still.

Professor Questus passed out the quizzes, one by one, and then waved his wand. Remus watched as the words appeared on the blank sheet of parchment that was his quiz.

There will be two parts to the written portion of the quiz, Remus read. This part is not graded. I want you to write a short essay about your week. Consider your emotional, mental, and physical well-being, as well as your plans for next week. Minimum of three inches of parchment, maximum of five. When finished, turn it in to me in the front.

James Potter and Sirius Black, in contrast to you, have a very difficult version of the quiz. Today, I will be testing your acting skills. I do not want you to smile or laugh at these directions. I do not want you to say anything to Potter or Black. After you're finished, I want you to assume the expression of someone who has just taken the easiest quiz in the world. No laughing. No talking. That goes for the rest of the weekend. If Potter and Black find out that they took a different quiz, then points will be docked from both Gryffindor and Ravenclaw.

Peter Pettigrew: you are permitted to very quietly whisper to Potter that the quiz was rather easy. Goodness knows you whisper enough during normal classes.

Remus was very careful not to smile, and he tried very hard to write with the speed and confidence of one who was taking a very easy, but legitimate, quiz.

My week was rather okay, he wrote. My emotional, mental, and physical well-being is as wonderful as it could possibly be, just as it always is. You know me, Professor: I'm typically a very laid-back, low-stress person. Next Friday, which happens to be the day of the full moon, I plan to spend most of the day relaxing and then take a very pleasant trip to Hogsmeade. I shall probably return the next morning and take a lot of naps.

He rambled on a bit after that, and then he stood up and turned in the quiz as normally as possible. Questus took it without even looking at him. Remus stole a glance at James and Sirius on his way back to his seat, even though he knew it was a risk.

James was smirking a bit and writing frantically, but he looked slightly panicked. Sirius was chewing on the end of his quill and crinkling his eyes. He was not writing at all. Remus wondered what on earth was on their quizzes. Seventh-year material? Perhaps professional material? He'd never seen James and Sirius think so hard before.

Evans was already finished, and she started scribbling on a spare piece of parchment. She slid it over to Remus.

It took a minute for Remus to decipher her handwriting, seeing as it was even messier than James' and Peter's combined. He finally made it out after turning it to a forty-five degrees angle and squinting his eyes a little. Evans looked slightly offended.

Did you know about this?

Remus tried very hard not to smile and wrote a note back.

It was my idea. I thought that perhaps James needed to be taken down a rung. Evans looked surprised, so Remus smirked very slightly and added a bit more. I love him to death, but Merlin's beard, can that boy be arrogant.

He's ridiculous, came Evans' reply, but I'm glad you aren't blind to his faults.

Remus paused and then wrote, And I'm sure you're not blind to Snape's.

Evans narrowed her eyes and hastily scribbled a reply. For someone so slow to put your friends in line, you sure are quick to try to reprimand me.

Remus tried to apologize, but she ripped the parchment away and stuffed it in her bag before staring determinedly in the other direction.

As Remus pondered this, Questus started handing out the second writing portion—this was the real quiz. When Questus set the quiz on Remus' desk, he jerked his head towards the very confused James and Sirius and winked. Remus grinned back. He felt better already.

"I think I actually did well on the written portions!" said Peter, practically bounding down the corridor after DAD was over. "Both of them! Thanks so much for helping me, Remus!"

"No problem!" Peter was a very good actor, Remus noted. Very good indeed. He almost wondered if Peter had lied to him before, and then realized that it was very hypocritical of him to be offended by this. But still, it surprised Remus that shy, skittish Peter was so good at acting. A hidden talent, perhaps?

"Yeah," said James, mussing his hair frantically. "It was pretty easy."

Sirius frowned. "What was Questus playing at with the first part...?"

James shot Sirius a look. "Well, I thought it was easy."

"Oh, yeah," bluffed Sirius. "Easy-peasy. But harder than some of the other tests we've taken."

"Yeah," said James. "I mean, they were all easy. Too easy. But the other ones were like... really easy. Really really easy. And then this one was just... easy."

"Something like that," said Sirius.

Peter narrowed his eyes. "They all seemed the same to me."

"I think," said Remus quietly, "that if the tests are getting harder—even by only a little—then you should start revising a little more...?"

"Ridiculous," said James airily, although Remus detected a note of dismay in his voice. "I don't need to revise."

"Even a genius doesn't automatically have all the knowledge of the world in his or her head, James," said Remus. "They've all got to learn it from somewhere."

"I don't need to revise," James repeated. "I bet I got an O."

Remus wanted to laugh. He wasn't sure how difficult Professor Questus had made the quiz, but he knew that James was definitely bluffing—James was not as good a liar as Peter.

Remus hoped that James wouldn't be too angry with him when he found out what Remus had done... but, oh, this was such a fantastic birthday present. And he was pretty sure that James would love it, since now the entire class knew about the prank. They'd probably be whispering his name in the corridors for weeks to come. James would enjoy that. Love it, even.

Well, at least... Remus was pretty sure he would.

The next day, James actually revised. Remus had never, ever seen him revising before. Homework, sometimes. But actually revising? Remus was completely blown away.

"Hey, Remus," James said after a few minutes. "Wanna help me?"

Remus blinked. "Help with what?"

"You know," said James uncomfortably. "School. And all that."

Remus couldn't resist. "The great James Salazar Potter, revising? What has the world come to?"

"Oh, shut up and help."

Remus smiled and pulled a chair over. "What do you need?"

"I don't know how."

"To read?"

"No, you dunderhead. To revise. What am I supposed to do? I know all this. How am I supposed to just read it over and over and over?"

"You can make flashcards," Remus suggested. "I usually write note-sheets." Remus went into his bag and pulled out a folder, completely spilling over with notes in his handwriting. "Reorganize the info in different ways until it's perfect. I write it as if I'm explaining it to myself, and then I write it as if I'm explaining it to a toddler, and then I write it as if I'm explaining it to Peter..."

"What's the difference between the last two?"

Peter laughed, but Remus gave James a look of warning. "And then I try to write it in the voice of a pirate or an author or something stupid like that."

"And that helps?"

"Rephrasing the information in as many ways as possible helps a lot, yeah. Because then you're forced to actually think about it, and not just copy things down."

"Hm," said James.

"Or," said Remus slyly, "you can write it in terms of Quidditch."

"What?"

"You know... for every piece of information, write about how it could be used to your advantage while playing Quidditch."

James wrinkled his nose. "Aconite?"

"Use it to attract werewolves," Remus suggested. "Then the other team will be distracted."

"Aconite gets rid of werewolves, stupid," said James, pushing him.

"Oh, right," said Remus, proud of himself for the purposeful mistake. He hoped it proved that he didn't know a thing about werewolves. "I always get them mixed up. You could also plan a prank. Either involves researching their properties..."

James started scribbling frantically, and Remus smiled. He felt like the cleverest friend in the world—for multiple reasons.

DAD class arrived once again, and Remus took his seat by Evans.

"How did last weekend go?" Evans asked.

"Well," whispered Remus. "James did his homework."

"He what?"

"Shh, not so loud. He revised. His notes."

"He took notes?"

"Well, no. He was actually using my notes. But... look..."

Evans peeked at James out of the corner of her eye, who had a fresh piece of parchment on his desk and his quill poised. "Oh, my gosh."

"I know."

Questus un-Dillusioned himself and narrowed his eyes. "Settle down, everyone. Settle down. I think it's time to discuss the test last class." He pulled out a paper from his pocket and read the instructions for the test out loud (the one that everybody had taken except James and Sirius).

There was quite a bit of tittering. Remus looked over his shoulder at James and Sirius. Sirius was open-mouthed. James was wide-eyed. Remus grinned at them, and James swatted Peter on the shoulder, who was laughing hysterically.

Remus couldn't tell if they were angry or not.

"Who can tell me why acting skills are important in Defense Against the Dark Arts?" asked Questus, who seemed as if he'd actually worked Remus' request into the lesson plan. "Why will acting skills be important in the coming war? Evans."

"I guess if you're a spy," she said.

"That's true. While I haven't done much undercover work, myself, it is paramount to play the part of whichever persona is necessary. Black, close your mouth. You're going to attract flies." Sirius snapped his mouth shut, and Remus fought the urge to laugh. "Mainly, the reason that I gave you this assignment was to teach you that it is indeed possible to control one's emotions—both when lying and when in stressful situations."

Remus had the odd feeling that the lecture was directed at him. He squirmed.

"Most of you managed to act normally upon receiving the test, and all of you managed to keep the secret all weekend. That's the same kind of control that a person needs to exercise when trying to hold your own under pressure, have an important conversation, and especially to cast spells." Questus started writing on the board. "Step one: observe from the outside. Remove yourself from the situation. Step two: breathe. Step three: don't panic. It's not that difficult. Mindless panic can cause all sorts of problems: it can cause one to forget the incantation to a spell, it can affect one's aim, and it could cause one to be unable to cast the spell altogether—since, of course, magic takes intent and focus." He turned back around. "And so does lying. The main point is that you can't lose your head. Pettigrew: you share a room with Potter and Black. Any problems last weekend?"

Peter blanched. "Er..."

"For goodness' sake, boy, control your emotions. We were only just talking about it."

"Okay. Erm... I told them that I thought I did well on the quiz. I usually talk to them about the quiz after class."

Questus nodded. "Good. Simple, normal, didn't go overboard. Recognizing what you normally do—what you would do in this particular situation had it been normal—is important. People often forget what they would normally do when they're playing a part. They forget who they are. They panic. It's best to stay as close to the truth as possible, and one must stay calm in order to do that. Lupin? Anything interesting happen?"

Remus didn't want to tell the whole class that James had revised. It felt like an invasion of privacy, somehow, even though schoolwork was a perfectly respectable pastime. He wasn't feeling nearly as confident about the prank as he had been ten minutes ago. "I told them that perhaps they needed to revise more," he said.

"Ah, yes. Coming up with an explanation for things. Also good lying strategies."

Remus tried not to laugh. As if he didn't know that. He had plenty of experience with lying.

"Potter? Black? Anything to say?"

There was silence, and Remus rather wanted to turn back time and never do the whole prank to begin with.

"Okay. On to the lesson. Zombies. Now, many people get Zombies and Inferi mixed up, but..."

"I hate John Questus," said Sirius, fuming over supper that evening. "I hate him. I hate him. I hate him so much."

Remus' stomach twisted unpleasantly.

"So do I," declared James. "That was an awful trick to play."

"Er..." said Remus.

"Shut up, Remus. You can't just do that to a couple of kids. That's horrible. I was panicked all weekend."

"Er..." Remus tried again.

"Be quiet, Remus! What I'm saying is, that was so mean-spirited, even for him..."

"Er."

"Remus! I mean, what does he have against us?"

"James! Sirius!"

"I don't want to hear you defending him, Remus!"

"I'm not defending him! I'm trying to tell you something important!"

"Well, what is it? Spit it out!"

Time to come clean. "It wasn't his idea," said Remus, and he tried for an easy smile, pretending that he didn't feel awful about it at all.

James' voice was low and dangerous. "What?"

"Well," started Remus, controlling his emotions as much as possible. "It all started over Easter break, when I wasn't sure what to get you for your birthday. And then I thought: what better gift than moral and personal improvement, along with an amazing prank—since you like pranks—that will make you the talk of the school?" Sirius and James were silent, and Remus cleared his throat slightly. "So I... wrote to Professor Questus over Easter holidays and asked him if it would be possible... and I suppose he organized his lesson around it. It was a pretty good lesson."

"Well, why'd you include me?" asked Sirius. "It wasn't my birthday."

"I didn't get you a birthday present, remember?" said Remus. "I only made you a card. So I had to include you."

"It was a brilliant card," said Sirius. "You could have left me out. I definitely wouldn't have minded."

"Wait," said James. "That was you? You planned it all?"

"Professor Questus helped."

"So you just... you just thought... let's make James revise for his birthday! That's a brilliant gift!"

"That's the long and short of it, yes." Remus winced. Please don't be angry, he chanted silently. Please don't be angry.

Suddenly, Sirius started laughing. "I knew it! I knew it, didn't I, James? I knew it! I knew he was a Marauder!"

"Well, duh, I'm a Marauder," Remus said, affronted yet hopeful. Perhaps they weren't angry after all.

"But he's... James, that was incredible!"

James started smiling, too, to Remus' relief. "It kinda... it kinda was!"

"Obviously," said Remus.

"I mean. You git! You're a terrible person!" James started good-naturedly hitting Remus with his salad fork. "I hate you!"

"I got you to revise!" Remus giggled. "You sat down with a book and you read it!"

"I did too, mate!" said Sirius, nearly hyperventilating from laughter. "I was so scared! I thought that I was actually as stupid as Peter!"

"Stupider," said Peter, "because I did well."

"No one's stupider than you, mate," said James, patting Peter on the shoulder.

"Oi," said Remus.

"Ah, shut up. You actually got us. You got the both of us. Merlin's beard, Rem, I did not know that you were a criminal mastermind."

"Oh, hello, Professor Questus," said Remus, grinning slightly. James whirled around, only to find that no one was standing behind him. "Got you again," Remus pointed out.

James let out an inhuman screech and leaned over the table to tackle Remus.

"Potter, Black, settle down!" called Professor McGonagall from the staff table.

"Yeah, Potter, settle down," Remus mocked quietly.

James gave him a furious grin, but there was humor sparkling in his eyes, and Remus no longer felt bad whatsoever. He had good friends, and maybe—if he worked hard at it—he really could be a criminal mastermind.

As Remus engaged in a swordfight with James (using forks, of course), he forgot all about full moons, werewolves, windows, and Snape. He even forgot that he was a werewolf for a full ten minutes.

That was a new record!

AN: Apparently, Theodore Roosevelt had a pet shrew. I think I'd like a pet shrew. I hear they're fierce hunters.