It was Friday afternoon, and Remus was reading under a tree, passively watching James play Quidditch. James was practicing for the upcoming Quidditch tryouts, and he was so single-mindedly intense that it was sort of scary. As he zoomed about, Sirius rode after him and made a valiant (yet failing) effort to keep up. Remus read while he listened to their shrieks, glancing up every so often to amusedly admire their antics; Peter was sitting next to Remus, gasping and clapping whenever James made a particularly dangerous dive (which only served to feed James' intensity even more).

Overall, it was a nice day, if not a bit chilly. Remus was relaxed and satisfied.

But alas: "nice", "relaxed, and "satisfied" never seemed to be enough for James Potter and Sirius Black. Just as Remus was preparing to heave a gloriously contented sigh, James hopped off of his broomstick, all ruffle-haired and pink-cheeked, and plucked the book from Remus' hands. "Wanna go exploring?" he said.

Remus tried to grab the book back out of James' hand, but James was quicker and Remus met no avail. "Exploring where?" Remus asked once he'd finally given up the tussle.

"Dunno. I was thinking maybe the Forbidden Forest."

"That's forbidden," said Remus.

"Really?" said Sirius sarcastically. "Wow, I had no idea. Come on, Remus, it'll be fun."

"I'm not sure about it myself," said Peter timidly.

"Well, you don't have to come," Sirius pointed out. "It could just be the three of us."

"Three?" repeated Remus.

"Yeah. Merlin's beard, Remus, do learn to count. Me. James. You. That's three."

"But I don't want to go. I'll stay here with Peter."

James ruffled Remus' hair, and Remus made a face and swatted his hand away. Two seconds later, the hand was back, and James now had a very cheeky smile on his face. "But, Remus... you're the one who knows the most about creatures and things—you know, because of your dad. We'll get killed without you!"

"Not my problem," said Remus, making another grab for his book. James stopped ruffling Remus' hair to yank it away again.

"Remus John Lupin," James said in his Quidditch-announcer voice (which Remus often heard when James was watching Quidditch games, especially ones where Gryffindor was involved). "You are coming with us to the Forbidden Forest right this instant."

Remus sighed. Thanks to James, there was now an awful dilemma on Remus' hands that he didn't particularly want to deal with.

On one hand, he didn't want to betray Dumbledore, and breaking the rules as such would certainly constitute as betrayal. On the other hand, though—Remus was horrible at saying no.

What harm could it do? Remus wasn't scared—not really. Nothing in there was going to hurt him, seeing as he was a Dark creature; his mere presence would likely keep unfriendly magical creatures away. So if Remus' friends were going, then he might as well go, too—if only to keep them safe. He couldn't stop them, after all, so he might as well help them.

And no one was going to catch them... and it might be fun...?

Probably not. But Remus couldn't bear to say no to his best (and only) mates in the whole wide world.

"Sure," he said. "But let's wait until tonight."

Sirius let out a low whistle. "Night? Bit of a thirst for danger, hm, Remus?"

"Night is safer," said Remus stubbornly. And it was, when one was with a werewolf. "People are less likely to catch us."

"Brilliant!" said James. "I'm so excited! This is going to be excellent!"

Remus wasn't so sure.

But every time he thought about how awful it was to betray the teachers' trust, how horrible breaking the rules as a werewolf was, and how his friends could get hurt... he remembered the boredom of sitting at home all day. He remembered that he was probably going to have to leave soon anyway. He remembered that Hogwarts was so incredible because it was an adventure... and then he remembered the rush of excitement that he got whenever he and his friends snuck out after dark under James' cloak. This would be even more fun, wouldn't it?

Remus tried to tell himself it was wrong, but he couldn't stop the little bubble of happiness from welling up in his chest.

He was excited. He wanted to go.

And wasn't he going to have to leave anyway? He might as well follow Professor Questus' commands and enjoy it while he could... even if it meant shattering Hogwarts school rules into a million tiny pieces.

Remus woke up to the sound of James jumping on his chest and shouting "UP UP UP UP UP!"

"Ergh," said Remus, once the initial panic of being woken up like that had passed. A werewolf had once woken up a sleepy, young Remus by jumping on his chest, pinning his arms to the mattress, flashing its teeth, and then... nope. Remus wasn't going to think about that. "May I sleep a little longer?"

"Absolutely not," said James. "Sirius and Peter are getting supplies together right now, and my task is to wake Remus Lupin at all costs. Up up up up... wait, what's that?"

James was looking at Remus' torso, where his shirt had ridden up ever so slightly to reveal an ugly scar. He sat up immediately and pulled his shirt over it, heart beating wildly. "Dog," he said quickly.

"No, it's not," said James, brows furrowed. "You did mention you had a dog once, but dogs don't scratch like that... not unless it's a very mean dog."

Remus bobbed his head. "It was. Horribly mean. That's why we had to give him away."

"I thought you had to give him away to pay for cures for your mum..."

"That, too. But also because he scratched me."

Cool, calm, collected... what would Questus do? What would a normal boy who had been scratched by a dog do? Remus pulled up his shirt an inch to show James again, being very careful to show as little skin as possible. "Here, look. Super mean dog."

James leaned closer and examined the scar. "Wow. That's pretty bad."

"Dad wanted to heal it, but I wouldn't let him," said Remus. "I didn't want the dog around, and I wanted my parents to feel guilty." He grinned, his heart still hammering. Could James really hear it? Remus was never sure about human hearing.

"That's despicable," said James, who was smiling now, too. Remus pulled his shirt back down at lightning speed, hoping all the while that James would never ask to see it ever again. He remembered making that scar... it was two years ago in the cellar... Remus shuddered slightly.

"That scar is so cool," continued James fervently. "Like, really. I wish I had one like that. I've only got this." James pulled his sleeve back to reveal a tiny white mark above his elbow. "Mum and Dad usually insist on healing me, but I didn't tell them about this one. I fell off my broomstick, and I wanted to keep it."

Remus couldn't imagine actually wanting to keep a scar around just because it looked cool. He felt a little ill. The scar from the "dog" was not his only scar. He wished with all his heart that he had less.

"And you've got the cool scar from the windscreen, right?" said James, reaching for Remus' shoulder.

Remus jerked away. He'd had to lie about being in a car accident last year, and it seemed that James still remembered that one. "No. I mean, yes, I do. But you can't see it."

"Why not?" said James, pouting.

If James saw the obvious werewolf bite, then it would be over; Remus was certain of it. "I told you. I'm self-conscious. It's different from the dog bite. I can't explain it."

"Aw. Well, anyway, we've got to get going. UP UP UP UP UP..."

"I'm up," Remus groaned, hopping out of bed. "We're not changing out of pajamas first?"

"Nope. UP UP UP UP UP."

Sirius emerged from the lavatory, holding James' cloak and a bag. "Everything we need is in here. Hey, we should sneak out to Hogsmeade again at some point. I've been itching to go."

"Yeah!" said James. "But not today. Today we're risking our necks in the Great Forbidden Forest. Here, toss me the Invisibility Cloak."

Sirius obliged, and all four Marauders squeezed under it. "Off we goooo," whispered James. "This is gonna be so fun!"

Remus could hear all of their hearts beating wildly, and he both loved and loathed the sound. He'd already been lucky once tonight, and he wasn't entirely sure he had enough luck to last him through the rest of the night—for Remus Lupin had many things (a pet toad, good marks, a very ugly scarf, and most notably lycanthropy), but luck was almost never one of them.

The Marauders managed to make it out of the castle without much teacher or Prefect interference, and now they were on the grounds. Every crunch of the leaves seemed impossibly loud to Remus, and every heartbeat pounded into his brain like a sledgehammer. He was sure they were going to get caught. Absolutely certain. Totally positive. His relatively good reputation amongst the teachers and Dumbledore would be no more after tonight.

"Entering the Forest now," said James, as if it wasn't obvious that they were approaching the mouth of the forest. Remus could smell his friends' sweat—especially Peter, who tended to sweat a lot. Remus glanced at Peter, who was behind him. The poor boy was pale, and Remus could hear him grinding his teeth anxiously.

"We're not going to go too far in, right?" said Remus. "I think we should stop after fifty paces..."

"Bah," said Sirius. "Fifty paces? That's nothing—barely into the Forest—and besides, I don't want to count the whole time. No, we'll be fine. There's a path, see?"

Remus glanced down. There was indeed a bit of a path, but it wasn't really a path—it was more like a trodden bit of dirt and leaves. Hagrid came out here sometimes, Remus knew, so the path was probably from him and Fang.

"Okay," Remus managed. "Path it is."

At Hogwarts, Remus tended to have a terrible sense of direction (which James and Sirius teased him about to no end). It wasn't because Remus was bad at remembering where the classrooms were, though—it was because he was so used to navigating with his nose that a plethora of students masking the smells quite complicated things. Essentially, Remus had had to learn to navigate in a brand-new way.

But here in the Forest, Remus wasn't really worried about getting lost. Now that it was just the four of them, he was confident that he could find the castle again. He inhaled: the air was clear, and the scents seemed to cut through it like a knife. The castle was to the right; it was clear as day itself. Remus tried to relax. This was supposed to be fun.

They trod through the forest, and Remus found himself gripping Peter's hand. Suddenly, James whisked the cloak off of them and threw it haphazardly around his shoulders. It was an odd sight, but James didn't seem to care. "We don't need this cloak anymore," he said. "No one's out here."

If Remus had felt uncomfortable and nervous before, it was even worse without the Cloak. The trees and the bugs and the leaves, unobscured by magical fabric, practically burned holes in Remus' eyes.

It all felt so animalistic.

The musty scent of trees—the crackling of leaves—the far-off crunching and plodding as animals walked through the forest... it was either maddening or magnificent, and Remus wasn't sure which was worse.

He could pick out every scent here. He knew that there were Hippogriffs and Bowtruckles... and that creature that Professor Questus had called a Thestral... and they were far away, yes, but every scent felt heightened by the musty tree smell. The damp, quiet air enhanced Remus' senses in a way he hadn't thought possible.

This, Remus realized, was where he belonged. This was in his nature. He was supposed to thrive in the forest, amongst trees and animals. He was supposed to hunt and howl at the moon. This felt so right because it was. Remus was, after all, only an animal—no better than Greyback and his pack, who lived in caves and forests just like this one. Remus' head was clear as a crystal. It felt wonderful, and Remus hated himself for it. He was only supposed to enjoy things that were wolfish once a month, so this was completely out of bounds.

"I think I'm going to be sick," Remus muttered.

"Nervous?" teased Sirius.

"No, I actually... I actually think that I'm going to..." He felt bile rise in his throat, but he pushed it back down through sheer power of will. "Okay. Let's go back."

"No way!" said Sirius, giving him an incredulous look. "We're gonna explore."

James, fortunately, was a bit more sympathetic. "Are you really ill? Like, are you really gonna puke?"

"I don't think," Remus mumbled. "But we should go back just in case..."

Suddenly, a howl rang through the forest. Remus' blood ran cold. He was going to die. There was a werewolf in the forest... it was going to find him... he was going to die, or the Marauders were going to find out... he choked on his own throat and grasped James' arm, quivering. Worst of all, his throat itched, and his very voice threatened to escape his throat. There it was: the urge to howl back. Not nearly as strong as it was whenever Remus heard the wind howling on a full moon, but it was still there... Remus was humiliated, even though no one else knew what he was feeling.

"Sheesh!" said James. "It's just a normal ol' wolf."

"Is it a werewolf?" said Peter. He was also trembling, but at least he was composing himself—unlike Remus, who was still hanging off of James arm, entirely the opposite of "composed".

"S'not a full moon tonight," said Sirius, pointing to the minuscule waxing crescent just visible through the canopy of trees. "So it's not a werewolf."

The howl sounded again, and Remus leaned on James' arm even harder. "Getmeoutofhere getmeoutofhere getmeoutofhere I hate this," he babbled.

"You're mental, mate," said James, chuckling at Remus' fear. "It's far away. Relax."

In through his nose. Out through his mouth. In through his nose. Out through his mouth. In through his nose. In through his nose. In through his nose...

Remus realized that he'd just breathed "in through his nose" three times in a row, and he released the contents of his lungs with a huff—and then immediately started to cough. "I'm fine," he said, letting go of James' arm. "Sorry. I just got scared."

"Awww, little Wolf-Boy with a wolfy name scared of the Big Bad Wolf?" said James.

"Don't call me that."

"What a fragile china doll..."

"Don't call me that, either." Remus straightened himself up and shot James an apologetic look. "Really sorry, James. Hope I didn't crush your arm."

"Nah, you're an absolute weakling," James scoffed. "Come on, let's keep going. Unless Remus is sca-a-a-ared."

"I'm not," said Remus stubbornly. He was. But some odd reason, he didn't want to admit it. James already thought he was fragile, so there was no benefit in proving him correct. "Let's keep going."

They walked on for a bit. Sirius and James purposefully bumped against each other and pushed each other, laughing all the way. Peter stayed close to them and tried to laugh along.

But Remus didn't even pretend to be having fun—he lagged behind them, listening to their laughter. The air felt so right here; despite Dumbledore and Professor Questus' assurances, Remus entertained the notion (against his better judgement) that he really wasn't anything more than an animal. He held his breath for as long as possible, trying not to breathe the air that was so energizing... so full of smells... so clear and good and filling. He hated it.

About a minute passed, and then Remus exhaled. He couldn't hold his breath any longer than that. An ocean was sounding in his ears, and his vision was spotting. He drew a breath, preparing to hold it again, when...

He didn't know that smell. It was a bit like horses (Remus knew what horses smelled like), but also a bit like humans... oh, fiddlesticks. Centaurs.

"James, Sirius, Peter, let's go another way..." he said desperately, but they didn't listen. Moments later, a herd of centaurs came crashing through the trees, and Remus winced.

"Intruders," said the dark-colored one. "But they're only foals."

"You would think that Dumbledore would keep his foals closer to the castle," said one, spitting on the ground. "We are not babysitters."

The largest one shook his head slowly. "Three of them are human foals," he said slowly, glancing towards the moon in a pointed sort of way.

Remus panicked.

"We're going back," he said. "Right now. We won't bother you. We're very sorry to have done so."

"Not at all," said the largest centaur, bending his knees in a sort of bow. Remus panicked even more. "The stars do not foretell death tonight. Be on your way, and no harm shall befall you. The moon, however, is a fickle thing..."

"We're going back," Remus repeated.

"The woods belong to you as much as they do us."

"We're going back," said Remus, more firmly this time. He backed away, despising all the while the look of fear in some of the centaurs' eyes. He hadn't known that centaurs were afraid of werewolves. How did they even know what he was? "Come on, James. Sirius. Peter. Please."

James held his hands up. "Okay. We're going."

Suddenly, the wolf howled again, and Remus pressed his lips together and crossed his arms across his chest. He felt the centaurs watching him closely, so he whirled around and walked off as steadily as possible.

Which wasn't terribly steadily, but Remus would take what he could get.

"What was that all about?" asked James. Remus was currently under a tree, hugging his knees. Everything about this night was just reminding him over and over that he wasn't human. It was not as fun as he thought it might be. It was so not-fun, in fact, that he rather wanted to cry. But Remus was a preteen boy—practically a teenager—so he wasn't going to do that.

"Centaurs are weird," Remus murmured. "It's nothing. Hagrid tells me about the nonsense that they spout all the time."

"Then why are you so bothered?" asked Peter.

Remus sighed again and lifted his head blearily. "I thought this would be fun," he said, "but I just want to go back. I'm sleepy. It's kind of cold. There's dirt and bugs and things."

"What kind of Gryffindor are you?" said Sirius, which hurt a bit. "The fun hasn't even started yet."

"What kind of fun do you plan to have in here, exactly? It's boring. There's nothing to do..."

Remus was about to list a long list of reasons that they should go back (including, but not limited to: we have homework to do tomorrow, people will wonder if we're tired, I'm too tired to have any fun, someone might catch us, it's not worth it, etc.) when James suddenly smashed a finger to Remus' lips, effectively cutting him off. "Shush. Quiet. Do you hear that?"

"No...?"

"That's the sound of a... a Death Eater."

Remus couldn't hear anything. "There's nothing there, James..."

James spun around and pulled out his wand. "Bombardo!" he cried, aiming for the ground. There was an explosion and a small crater. "Missed him! Sirius, to your left!"

"Expelliarmus!" shouted Sirius, pointing his wand to his left. "Missed again! He's a fast one, isn't he?"

Remus smiled and stood up. "James, behind you! Watch out!"

James turned around at lightning speed and shot red sparks into the air. "He's getting away!"

"He's going for Peter!" shouted Sirius.

"Er... Wingardium Leviosa!" said Peter. Sirius and James gave him odd looks, but Remus pointed at the sky (even though all four of them were aware that the charm in question couldn't levitate living people very well).

"Nice one, Peter! He's up there! Someone get him!"

"Verdimillious!"

"Melifors!'

"Avifors!"

"Protego!" said Remus, conjuring a shield in front of James. Thanks to Professor Questus' duelling lessons last year, Remus knew all about shields. "Lucky I'm here, James. I just saved your life."

"You wish!" said James. "I would have blocked it anyway."

"Remus is a spy!" shouted Sirius. "He's working for the Death Eater!"

Remus laughed. "No, I'm not!"

"Expelliarmus!"

"Protego!"

"Flipendo!"

Remus blocked the Knockback Jinx wordlessly and reciprocated in kind; immediately, Sirius went sprawling against a tree. He stood up, laughing. "James! Peter! Help! He's using too much Dark magic!"

Remus grinned. "Petrificus Total—"

Together, James and Sirius shouted "Protego!" and the force of the shield blew Remus into Peter. They collapsed to the ground, giggling. Remus wiped a bit of dirt out of his mouth.

"Joke's on you!" he said. "Peter's fooled you—he's been on my side the whole time! Expelliarmus!"

"Protego! Tergeo!"

Suddenly, Remus found himself wrapped up in rope. "Pete! You're our last chance!"

"Flipendo!" said Peter, and James was blasted to the ground.

"Yes!" cried Remus. "Go, Peter!"

"Protego!" said Peter. "Expelliarmus..."

"Petrificus Totalus!" said Sirius, and now Peter was on the ground next to Remus. "The Light triumphs! The day is won!"

"Happy day!" shouted James, sitting up and giving Sirius a high-five. "Evil is vanquished!"

Remus laughed and undid the ropes encircling his torso with a spell. "I suppose Peter and I can be reformed villains now," he said with a grin. He undid the spell on Peter, and Peter nodded his agreement.

James helped Remus up. "Good idea. Hey, wanna climb a tree?"

Remus couldn't climb a tree—not with his achy joints and constant fatigue. But as he watched his friends attempt to climb the branches, he realized that there was a large smile on his face.

His friends had been right. This was fun.

Sirius had brought food, and the four of them ate a lovely picnic under the trees. Remus was growing to enjoy the forest air—everything really was clearer out here. The wolf had stopped howling, and the centaurs left the Marauders well alone. Magical creatures tended to avoid Remus, so nothing had bothered them since. Being a werewolf did have its perks, though they certainly weren't worth it when one made a tally of the pros and cons.

But, talking of pros and cons, the forest certainly had more pros than it did cons. Sure, Remus felt a little self-loathing as the clear air reminded him that he wasn't really human and didn't really belong in a castle (or perhaps it was just some sort of placebo effect? Remus would have to ask Professor Questus about that later). But at least Remus had the Marauders—A.K.A. bundles of tomfoolery and general shenanigans—and they made things all the better.

Remus looked at his watch. "It's three in the morning," he said. "What time did we get up?"

"About midnight," said James.

"We should get back now. I'm tired."

"Of course you are," said Sirius. "Fragile china..."

"If you'll recall, I cast a mean Knockback Jinx," Remus threatened. "Don't call me a fragile china doll."

"And the centaurs flee at the sight of you," chuckled James. "You'd think that you're some kinda king of the forest, the way that they were trembling."

Remus rolled his eyes at that. King of the forest—that was dumb. Remus wasn't a king. He was just terrifying, and no one—not even the centaurs—wanted to be around him. "Centaurs are weird," he said again. "Apparently they acted the same way around my dad when he snuck into the Forest as a student."

That was an utter lie, but Remus' whole life consisted of utter lies at this point.

"The Lupins are the kings of the forest!" said James. "Good thing we have you around, mate. Here, have a piece of pie before we go. Apple."

Remus took a piece of pie. The sugar and camaraderie was sucking all the fatigue from him like some sort of vacuum. "You know, maybe we can stay for another hour," he mused, because it really was nice out there.

James let out a whoop that rang through the forest and hurt Remus' ears. "I knew you'd pull through!"

Remus smiled and took a bite of pie. It was very good pie, even though he had to sit in the dirt to eat it. But again: the pros outweighed the cons, and that was all that Remus could ask for.

AN: Once I got lost in a forest for approximately six minutes. 3/10, would not recommend