Voldemort and his followers seemed to be growing more and more powerful by the day—within the span of one summer, they were deemed responsible for twenty-three Muggle deaths, the murders of prominent Muggle-born Theodore Babinski's daughters, and the extermination of the entire Muggle-born Weatherby family. Peter's parents were terrified by it all—they hardly ever let Peter leave the house, and when they brought him to King's Cross to return to Hogwarts in the fall, they hurried across the platform with their wands drawn and their heads on a constant swivel. When they hugged him goodbye, Peter sensed they were worried they'd never see him again.

But back at Hogwarts, everything was business as usual. The school was still safely under the control of Albus Dumbledore, supposedly the only wizard feared by You-Know-Who. Peter's friends seemed only mildly bothered by the recent events—James and Sirius were pure-bloods, of course, and Remus had spent his entire life having to look over his shoulder for signs of trouble. And so it was that the Marauders spent their first Saturday back at school romping blissfully through the Forbidden Forest in search of death's-head hawkmoths.

"I'm surprised you're still trying to brew this potion," Remus said as they rummaged through the foliage and waved butterfly catchers over their heads. "Are you sure these moths even live in the Forest?"

"That's what Sirius's book said," James replied. "They're all over the place. Remember, we're looking for big moths with yellow skull-looking things on their backs." Really they needed the moth's chrysalises for the Animagus potion, but the Marauders had figured the full-grown moths would be more recognizable than little worms or cocoons, so they'd have to capture the moths and hope they'd lay eggs for them. It all seemed like a lot of work to Peter—but it was for Remus, and that was what was important. Maybe if he could turn into a rat, Peter thought, he'd be able to keep himself hidden from the Death Eaters if they came after them.

"Found one!" Sirius exclaimed suddenly, raising his wand. "Stupefy!" A small dark shape dropped from the sky and landed in the leaves at his feet.

"Did you just use the Stunning Spell on a bug?" James ran over and bent down to turn the moth over. "No yellow skull, mate. Just a normal black moth."

"I swore I saw some yellow on it," Sirius protested. He kicked the Stunned moth away in frustration. "We're going to be here all week."

"Jus' what do yeh think yer doin' out here?" a deep voice demanded from somewhere behind them. Peter jumped with a yelp and turned to find a giant bearded man tramping through the woods towards them, his beefy arms crossed sternly over his chest.

"Giant!" Peter screamed, running to stand behind his friends. He thought of the stories he'd heard of You-Know-Who's giant allies crushing Muggles to death with their bare hands. Was that how he would die, too? James, Sirius, and Remus drew their wands, but Peter was trembling too hard to follow their lead.

The giant men gave a chuckle and raised his hands placatingly. "Lower yer wands. I'm no giant." No one lowered their wands. "Name's Rubeus Hagrid, the new gamekeeper at Hogwarts."

"Oh, I heard of you," said Sirius, finally relaxing a bit. "Ogg's replacement. You used to work for him—I remember my mum complaining about you."

The gamekeeper. Peter stepped out from behind James, taking a relieved breath. He'd heard of Hagrid, too.

"I was a student here once, yeh know," Hagrid said, "an' unless things have changed since then, I know yeh aren't meant ter be out in the Forbidden Forest by yerselves."

"We were given special permission by Slughorn," James lied quickly. "We're looking for potions ingredients."

"Death's-head hawkmoths," Remus added, stepping forward. "You wouldn't happen to know where we could find some, would you?"

Hagrid's eyes fell onto Remus, taking in his face and his scars, and they grew as wide as saucers. "I know who yeh are," he said. "Dumbledore told me abou' yeh. Yer Lyall Lupin's boy. The werewolf." He didn't sound afraid or accusatory—he almost sounded intrigued, Peter thought.

Remus went tense. "I am, yes. My name is Remus."

Hagrid broke out into a grin. "I was hoping I would meet yeh. I've never met a werewolf before—I've always wanted ter, yeh see." He stepped forward and held out one of his enormous hands for Remus to shake—Remus took it gingerly. "Don' yeh worry, Remus, yer secret's safe with me." He drew back with a start and glanced quickly around at the other three boys, his cheeks turning red underneath his beard.

"Don't worry, Hagrid," Remus said. "They already know about me."

"Oh," Hagrid said, relieved. "Well, tha's all righ' then. Suppose I'll have ter learn ter be more careful abou' things."

"That would be nice," said Remus a bit nervously.

"Well anyway, if moths are wha' yer lookin' fer, I've got plenty back home. I have a pair o' hippogriff foals I'm trying ter raise, and they love ter eat moths more 'n anything. I'm sure I've got some o' the kind yeh need. How abou' yeh all come back with me fer a cup o' tea an' we'll look together? I'd love ter learn more abou' the students here." He looked directly at Remus as he spoke.

Remus blushed a little. "Er…I suppose that'd be all right." He turned back to the others, who gave cautious nods. Peter still wasn't sure what he thought of Hagrid, who was way too large to be any sort of normal wizard, but he was also more than ready to get out of the Forest and end their moth hunt.

"Great!" Hagrid said brightly. "Come with me!" He turned around and waved for them to follow him back in the direction of the castle grounds.

"Oh, and Hagrid?" James asked, running to catch up to the gamekeeper. "D'you reckon you could keep our mission out here a secret? The potion we're brewing is meant to be a surprise, you see."

"O' course," Hagrid replied without a hint of suspicion. "I surprised the professors all the time when I was a student. Usually the creatures were bigger 'n moths, though."

"This is going to be a whole lot easier than I thought," Sirius muttered to Peter, shooting him a sly little grin.