"Do we really have to do it tonight, though?"

"Yes, James," Sirius said, rolling his eyes. "We're leaving for the holidays tomorrow, and we can't leave a Boggart in our room over Christmas."

"But we lost against Ravenclaw." James collapsed onto his bed in exasperation, his hair still damp from his post-game shower. "Ravenclaw! Ramsey was six inches away from the Snitch, I've no idea how he didn't catch the bloody thing—"

"James—" Remus tried to cut in.

"—and I can guarantee you there are no happy thoughts anywhere in my head right now."

"Come on, Jamesey," Sirius said. "Remus didn't endure that horrid Slug Club dinner last night for nothing, did he?"

"It wasn't horrid," said Remus. "Slughorn had these delicious milkshakes made for us."

James looked to Remus, perking up a little. "Was Evans there?" he wondered.

"She was," Remus replied, "but she left early to study for Divination with Mary. I didn't get to talk to her." James's shoulders slumped with disappointment.

Sirius clenched his jaw. He didn't understand James's sudden obsession with Lily Evans, and he didn't much like it. James was always asking after her, wondering where she'd gone or what she was doing…it was starting to get in the way of more important things, like hexing Slytherins and raiding the kitchens. He'd never cared about Lily at all until this year; Sirius hoped he would lose interest in her soon. He'd thought he might after Snivellus hit him with a Furnunculus Curse over his constant aggravating of his best friend, but James had recovered from the boils more determined than ever to get her attention. It all made Sirius feel a strange sort of jealousy, though of course he'd never admit to it.

Peter was eyeing the shoebox in which they kept the Boggart nervously. "How scary is it?" he wondered. "What it becomes?" Sirius thought back to the sneering faces of his parents, his father's club, and shivered.

"You don't have to face it if you don't want to, Peter," Remus said. "I just think it will make it easier for you to cast your Patronus for the first time."

"Then I do have to face it," Peter murmured. "I need all the help I can get if I'm going to do this." Sirius couldn't help but admire Peter's determination to become an Animagus; he didn't have a whiff of his or James's natural talent, but he was going to pull off the transformation all the same. Sirius and the others would make sure of it.

"All right, I guess we can do it now," James sighed. "We've been putting it off long enough."

"Yeah, because you said you had to focus on Quidditch," Sirius reminded him. "Now the game's over, and you've got no more excuses."

"I think James is scared," said Peter, his lip quirking up.

"Shut it, Peter. I'm not scared." James stood up and cracked his knuckles. "I want to see what my Patronus is already."

"It's not going to be a rhinoceros, James," said Sirius.

"You don't know that, you git."

"Okay." Remus had gone over to the shoebox, tapping his wand against its lid. "We've all got to be ready when I let it out. Hopefully we only have to do this once."

"We're ready, mate," James said. "We know the spell well enough to cast it in our sleep."

"Only we can't actually cast it," Peter murmured.

"Don't be so pessimistic." James gave Remus a firm little nod, setting his jaw. "Open it, Re."

"I want to go first," Peter said suddenly, stepping in front of James. James gave Sirius a surprised look, to which he shrugged wordlessly in response. Sometimes there was no understanding Peter Pettigrew.

"All right." Remus swished his wand over the box. "Experio."

The shoebox's lid flew off, and a figure materialized in front of the waiting Peter—a figure of Peter. Something was coming for Boggart-Peter; Sirius couldn't see it, but he could sense it encroaching upon him, a Dementor or a Death Eater or a beast of some sort. Boggart-Peter glanced frantically around for help, backing away from the unseeable threat, but no one came to his aid. There was no one there, no one but Peter and the monster bearing down on him.

"Exp—Expecto—" the real Peter stuttered, but clearly he'd been thrown off by the sight of the Boggart. James pushed roughly past him, his wand out. Immediately the Boggart changed; the threat was gone, but Peter was still there, and he let out a shrill, agonizing scream so real it tore at Sirius's bones. James rushed forward, wanting to save him, but his body slammed against an invisible barrier. Peter screamed again, his eyes on James now, begging for him to help—James rammed against the barrier again and began shouting spells, but none of them could reach the screaming boy. And then the Boggart changed, becoming Sirius, his shriek filled with pain—it really was his voice, Sirius thought, his voice crying out for James—and then it was Remus, lying in a pool of blood and gasping for breath, and then it was James's parents, both of them screaming for their son. And James could get to none of them. He was screaming, too, and there were tears glistening on his cheeks.

Finally Sirius had had enough. He stepped up to James, and the impenetrable barrier dissolved as quickly as it had appeared. Euphemia Potter vanished, too, and became Walburga Black, her husband emerging at her shoulder. The way they looked at him made Sirius feel like he was nine again, the year he'd finally decided to stand up to his parents, the year when they still thought they could beat sense back into him. His father would strike him, sometimes with his club and sometimes with his magic, and his mother would watch and sneer and laugh, and Sirius would do everything he could not to cry….

But he was prepared this time. Lifting his chin, Sirius summoned the memory of his Sorting ceremony, when he found out he would be in Gryffindor—the first time he truly felt free from his parents, like he could be his own, better person. I'm not like you, he told the figures conjured up by the Boggart. You don't own me.

He waved his wand. "Expecto Patronum."

A great burst of silver shot through the air—slowly it materialized into a figure as it swirled around the Boggart, becoming a large creature with legs and tail and snout. A dog, its silver paws skimming inches above the ground.

"Merlin's beard," James murmured behind Sirius, giving his ribs a squeeze. "You actually did it, mate! Amazing!" Remus was looking at him with a pleased grin on his face; Sirius couldn't help but smile back. A dog, he thought, watching his Patronus scamper around the room. Not bad.

"My turn now." James squared his shoulders and took Sirius's place in front of the Boggart. The Blacks vanished to be replaced once again by screaming Potters and Marauders. The Boggart never changed into a screaming Lily, Sirius realized with a throb of satisfaction. At least James wasn't that obsessed with the Evans girl just yet.

"Expecto Patronum!" Another animal erupted from the tip of James's wand, one that grew to be just as large as Sirius's: an elegant silver stag, its antlers broad and branching like limbs of a tree. It loped to the side of Sirius's Patronus and followed it across the dormitory.

"Not a rhinoceros," James said, "but a giant deer is pretty cool too." He kept his eyes deliberately averted from the still-screaming Boggart.

"My turn," Peter said determinedly. The Boggart changed as he approached, its agonizing cries cut mercifully short. "Expectro Patronum!"

It took Peter a few tries, during which his wand expelled intermittent bursts of silver smoke; when he finally produced his Patronus, it was so small that it took Sirius a moment to recognize its form.

"Is that a mouse?" James asked, squinting at it as it scampered past the Boggart.

"A rat, I think," Remus said. "It's too big to be a mouse."

The Patronus scuttled back to Peter and raised itself onto its hind legs. Peter pursed his lips as he looked down at it. "A rat," he murmured. "That's my Animagus form."

"Don't sound so disappointed," Sirius said. "Changing into something small like that would be super useful. Think of all the tiny spaces you'll be able to squeeze into."

"It's perfect, Peter," James insisted. "Perfect for you."

"I guess so." Peter looked slightly happier after his friends' encouragement. "I just can't believe I was able to do the charm." Grinning, James moved to give him a fist bump.

"Remus?" Sirius asked, raising his eyebrows at the final Marauder. "You want to give it a try?"

"All right." Remus finally stepped out from behind the empty shoebox to confront the Boggart. In his presence, it changed into its simplest form yet—a floating silver orb, its surface marred by darker pocks and craters. A full moon. Of course.

Remus blinked up at it, its light casting shadows across his face. He didn't look the least bit surprised at the form the Boggart had taken. Remus had always known his greatest fear.

He raised his wand and swirled it around in a tight circle. "Expecto Patronum."

Remus's wand tip began to vibrate, and it expelled a great burst of silver that resolved itself into a form very much like Sirius's Patronus: four-legged and bushy-tailed, only this Patronus had a longer snout and perky upright ears. Sirius's heart clenched—it was a wolf.

The wolf Patronus tipped back its head in a silent howl and padded up to Remus, standing directly beneath the orb of the Boggart-moon. Remus stared back at it with an expression very much like the one he'd worn when he was approached by the wolves in the Forbidden Forest. The wolf stood before him for only a moment before it dissolved into wisps of smoke.

"Intombia." Sirius cast the spell he'd witnessed Remus using on the Boggart to trap it; he swished his wand back towards the empty shoebox, and the Boggart-moon flew back inside it—James, the closest to the box now, slammed it shut and cast a Sealing Charm to keep the Boggart imprisoned inside.

The three remaining Patronuses petered out one by one as the boys' delight at having cast them was replaced by their concern over the dark look on Remus's face. "It wasn't a werewolf, Re," James said softly. "It didn't have the tufted tail or any of the signs we learned about. It was just a regular wolf."

"Doesn't matter," Remus said, turning away. "It could've been anything else. Why does it have to be a wolf?"

"Well, mine's a dog," Sirius pointed out. "Pretty similar, right? Our Patronuses can be friends, go chase after cats together."

Remus didn't laugh. "I just wonder what it would've been if I weren't a werewolf," he murmured. He moved to sit on his bed with a quiet sigh.

"It's not a werewolf, Re." Sirius plopped down beside him and placed his hand on top of Remus's. James and Peter climbed onto the bed, too—they often sat like this, all four of them piled together on top of one bed as if there weren't a whole room full of open space for them. "Who knows if it would've been any different? I mean, do all werewolves have wolf Patronuses?"

Remus shook his head. "I doubt another werewolf's ever cast a Patronus," he said. "I'm the first to study at Hogwarts, after all. Most wizards think werewolves aren't capable of any sort of advanced magic."

"Well, they're wrong, because you definitely are," Peter told him. "So really, casting your Patronus is one of the least werewolf-y things you could've done if you think about it."

Remus gave a little smile at that. "I suppose you're right, Peter." He sounded maybe a tiny bit happier, and some of the tension had dissipated from between his brows.

The other Marauders wrapped Remus up in a tight four-person hug, smiling at their magic and their friendship and everything else that was good.