A/N Hiiii, I'm baaaaack! Yes, I know, the well overdone time-turner idea, but I'm hoping to have one or two twists to keep you guys interested. Thanks to everyone who's already commented etc on this, I'll be replying to comments directly at the bottom of each page from now on. Oh, and sorry this is all bunched together, double spacing between chapters is not working, so any advice you guys have on how to fix it would be much appreciated. So anyway, as always, read, review, favourite, follow and most importantly, enjoy!

Disclaimer; This is for the whole fic, I own nothing but the thoughts in my mind.

Chapter 1

Sirius and James were tossing a purloined training quaffle back and forth in the unusual autumnal warmth, still laughing with youthful joy at their latest escapade. Seeing the Slytherin robes changed to bright magenta, and their school banner changed to read 'Slytherpink', was something that would undoubtedly amuse them for years. As would old McGoogly-Eyes' expression; it was no secret that the Marauders' ultimate goal was to make her so disapproving that her lips would purse so much that they would actually disappear within her mouth, and that morning had been one of their closest efforts yet. Of course, it was doubly comical as they knew that their head of house looked sternest when she secretly found something rather funny herself. Fireworks in the Great Hall; no-no. Dungbombs in Transfiguration; big no-no. Charming the suits of armour to sporadically sing, 'Slytherin, Slytherout', the song they had composed; oh yes-yes. Just don't get caught.

"Hey, Lupin!" James yelled over to the tree that their foursome had claimed last year, and was now definitely Their Tree. Beneath its branches Remus, of course, had his nose in a book, and Peter was munching through some pastries he'd snuck out of breakfast, pretending to do homework but in actuality watching the game of catch grow steadily more vicious.
Remus looked up just as Sirius, seeing an opportunity, hurled the ball at James' head with entirely more force than was necessary, but with a chaser's ease he caught and threw it back, where it hit his opponent in the stomach. Sirius oofed as the breath was knocked out of him, and Peter laughed loudly. Even Remus seemed to have a twinkle in his eyes. "What?" He called back with faux-irritation.

James, grinning easily, flopped down between the other two, victory etched over his features. "Whatcha reee-ading?" He asked in a sing-song voice, lying flat on his back and shoving his hair out of his face. Sirius also lay down, flush on his stomach, and flicked his hair with a practised movement, winking at the two first year girls walking by, both of whom immediately giggled. "Creepy, Sirius." James commented in a bored tone, before dodging the casually thrown fist headed towards his arm and turning his attention back to Remus.

"'Lord of the Flies'." Sirius commented, reading over his shoulder and still attempting to sock James in the arm. "Sounds awful."
Remus frowned. "You'd like it actually, Sirius. A group of boys are stranded on an island with no adults around-"
"Love it already!"
"- and they nearly all go mad and try to kill each other."
Sirius frowned and then shrugged. "Meh. First sign of madness is not accepting you're mad."
Peter chuckled. "I'm pretty sure that's not how that saying goes, you know."
"It is for a Black." He replied sharply, his eyes darkening with his mood.

The others, used to Sirius' changeable moods, especially regarding his family, brushed over the incident with a practised ease. "So it's not like Lord of the Rings, then?" James inquired smoothly.
Remus shook his head. "No, not at all." He tilted his head and gave a small, but sincere smile. "How are you coming with that?"
Arching his back, he rolled over to his school bag and plucked a book from its midst. "I'm there." James replied, pointing to a scrap of spare parchment he'd been using as a bookmark.

Sirius looked in horror from his best friend to the tome. "James?! You're- you're," He spluttered for a few moments as the others looked on in amusement, "you're reading!" He finally shouted. "This cannot be borne. No, no, no. We already have a bookworm, we don't need another! I blame you for this." He levelled an accusatory finger at Remus, before plucking the offending books from his and James' hands. "I'm going to fix this." He yelled, beginning to jog away backwards, humour lighting up his eyes. Much as they may tease Remus, he did tend to have excellent taste when it came to muggle novels; Sirius himself was midway through The Three Musketeers.

But the day was warm, and warm days were not for reading. Warm days were for running and pranking and laughing, and the others immediately began to chase him, even if Remus did it with a half-hearted eye-roll. They ran around Their Tree, not over-exerting themselves, simply revelling in their youth and their friendship and their freedom. Sirius suddenly broke off and headed for a nearby slope, laughing gaily as he taunted the three close behind him, before his eyes abruptly widened and he disappeared from sight, falling over as he tripped.

Remus and Peter howled in merriment as Sirius rolled down the bank, umph-ing and oof-ing at each bump, and swearing when he finally stopped at the bottom, rubbing his head uncomfortably. But James' smile had slipped from his face as soon as he had reached the edge of the tilted ground. Not out of worry for Sirius, for although he was like his brother, he knew for a fact that Sirius was made of sturdy stuff and a small trip wouldn't bother him. No, his eyes had focussed on what, or rather who, Sirius had tripped over. A figure that he could've sworn wasn't there three seconds earlier.

Being de facto leader of their little band of miscreants meant that the others were often well attuned to his moods, and so within only a few moments of his not joining in their humour, Remus had quietened, followed shortly by Peter. All three looked curiously at the body on the floor for half a beat, before James began barking orders. "Remus- get Dumbledore. Peter- get Madam Pomfrey. Sirius!" He called down to the grumbling boy. "Anything broken?" Sirius shook his head and gave a thumbs up, giving the girl a curious glance. "Good, then pull yourself together and go get Hagrid. We don't know where she came from, but she might be in trouble." The three nodded at him and seemed to be taught with tension, until he snapped, "Now!" They all took off, Remus with one last furrow-browed look at her, two in one direction and one in the other, as James went to his knees beside the body.

For a moment he was unsure that she was alive; her eyes were half-closed and blood stained her skin and clothing in a sickly scarlet dye. Thankfully, though, he finally heard the rattling of breath echoing through her, though what he could see of her eyes was still vacant. Cursing himself for not knowing even basic healing spells, or muggle first aid for that matter, he winced at the droplets of shattered glass embedded into her skin, weeping blood steadily into the ground below. He reached out with a finger to gently wipe one of the rivulets running from her forehead, only to shriek in a way that made him glad the lads weren't around to hear. Clutching his now weeping finger to his chest, he glared at whatever had scratched him, and found a large, squashed faced, orange furball glaring right back at him with sharp yellow eyes. The cat- was it a cat?- flicked its fluffy, bottlebrush tail threateningly, and rested his bandied legs on the girl's cheek, somehow finding a place with no glass in it.

He gave an appraising look and then nodded seriously at the cat, idly thinking that it rather looked as though it had run face first into a wall. As though sensing the comment as it flew across his mind, it growled low in its belly as its tail bushed even more, hackles standing to attention. James sat back on his heels, and then shrugged; though it was uncommon to find a familiar- a pet that was unfailingly loyal to one person alone, that became a part of that person- it was not unheard of. He considered the cat, decided that it had to be at least part kneazle, then mentally slapped himself and returned to the far more important matter of the bleeding girl by his knees.

"Can I…?" He asked the animal, indicating two fingers towards the girl's neck and hoping that the feline understood him. The cat settled and, in as much as cats could, looked approving. He pressed two fingers to the girl's neck, huffing out a sigh as he felt a heartbeat, however faint it was. The cat looked smug and he frowned. "What, I didn't know? Not all of us have extra sensory whiskers or fur." To his amusement and slight irritation, the orange beast looked unequivocally smug, and even started purring. "Stupid superhuman cat." He murmured. "Except of course you're superhuman. You're not human." He sighed as he shucked off his outer robes. "Look, I don't want her getting cold, so I'm going to put this over her, okay?" The weather, as was want to do on their island, had turned 180 and a chilly, freezing wind had picked up.

The ginger ball seemed to be arguing with itself, before cautiously picking its way across the woman's chest, avoiding areas that seemed overly painful, and placing two blood-stained paws on his knees, snuffling and huffing. He held his cloak out for the cat-kneazle to smell, was fairly sure the animal was about to give his approval, when something happened that made him shriek in surprise and then scream in pain.

"Mr Potter?"

\*/

Remus Lupin rarely sprinted. He jogged, he casually ran, and he speed-walked, but he rarely sprinted. Because he knew it would alarm others. It might even give them cause to think of why he was so speedy, and how he seemed to stay so fit and trim despite never seeming to exercise, and what exactly caused him to be 'mysteriously ill' once a month. Already there had been rumours among the older students about him being a hermaphrodite, rumours that he had shamefully encouraged. It was better that people thought that he was a man who had a- he internally shuddered at the very thought- period, than knowing the truth.

But now he sprinted, keen eyes flicking past student's faces as they jumped out of his way or gazed in confusion at his streaking form. This girl that had appeared from nowhere needed help. And there was something… Off about her too. He needed to speak to the Head. He bounded up the Grand Staircase, willing the stairs with everything he, and It, had, to give him the easiest path to the Headmaster's office. Amazingly, they seemed to obey, and he found himself taking the final steps using both hands and feet, before consciously slapping himself and rising from his crouched position and running the rest of the way to the stone gargoyle that hid the entrance to Professor Dumbledore's office.

Being what he was, with It inside him, Dumbledore had been very accommodating and unusually kind regarding his condition. As such, the Head had, from the first week he had started at school, made sure that Remus knew the password to his office, in case he had any lupine-related issues or such. Some of his ways of communicating had been rather strange, and really rather amusing actually. Last Halloween, when he was still exhausted from the previous night's full moon, he had been 'anonymously' sent a bar of Honeyduke's finest dark chocolate, with 'Tongue-Twisting Twisted Twisty Toffee' carved into it. And earlier this very year, on the horror that was Valentine's Day, he had had to suffer through an exploding confetti ball, with a note in the midst stating, 'Red Velvet Violet Wraps'. Dumbledore was funny, like that, and sometimes Remus found himself unkindly thinking that if he spent less time planning small niceties for him and others, and more time focussed on the 'important issues', then maybe they wouldn't have so many obituaries in the Daily Prophet.

But now he was beyond grateful for Dumbledore's caring, albeit peculiar, ways, as he skidded and stopped, yelling, "Bouncing Bon-Bons!" The gargoyle began to turn, and Remus waited impatiently as the spiral stairs twisted upwards. Practically vibrating with energy, and still trying to supress It, he took a few steady breaths, and thought he could perhaps pass for calm, when he knocked on the Professor's door.

"Come in." A voice said serenely, and he obeyed, pausing when he saw Professor McGonagall (Or McGoggles or McGigglies or whatever new name James and Sirius had invented) sat in the seat opposite the Head, Professor Slughorn in the seat beside her. Dumbledore's eyes twinkled mischievously. "Ah, Mr Lupin, the Professors and I were just discussing the, eh, change of attire, that occurred this morning at breakfast."

"It was a harmless prank." McGonagall sniffed.
Slughorn frowned. "Against Slytherin. You understand why I'm upset, Minerva; it's my house that is being targeted."
Nostrils flared, she began to bite back, "And why do you think my house has anything-"
"Mr Lupin," The head interrupted effortlessly, "do you have any knowledge of a Gryffindor or, a group of Gryffindors, planning this, ahem, implemented fashion choice?"
"Well, it was likely-"
"Horace, I think it would be better if things were dealt with swiftly, don't you? Now, Mr Lupin?"
"No Sir." He lied, fairly sure that his cheeks were the same shade of magenta that the Slytherin robes currently were.
"Well then!" The Head said, clapping his hands together. "As there's no reason to suspect anyone,"
"Albus, no-one can change the sign back! The 'Slytherpink' won't-"
"I'm sure," His voice raised a notch, and Remus flinched back, "that the banner can be sorted, and that whoever was responsible will be caught." His eyes like solid sapphire, he glanced at the two teachers before him.
Slughorn made one last try. "But we know it's-"
"Horace." No-one would argue with that tone, and the chubby man seemed to wither in his chair. "Now, I do believe Mr Lupin would like to speak to me?"

Remus nodded emphatically, as the pair of teachers began to slink out of the room. He cleared his throat awkwardly. "Actually, Professor, it might be better if the other two Professors are here?" He scowled as he swiftly remembered the urgency of the girl's condition, and the oddity of her appearance, and how much blood there was.
"Are you sure, Mr Lupin?" Dumbledore asked, peering at him curiously.
"Yes Sir. Um, I should have said right away, but you were all talking and I didn't want to interrupt, because that would be rude, wouldn't it? And Mum and Dad said to never be rude, especially not to your elders. Not that I'm calling any of you old! It's just that, you know, you're older than me! Which makes you an elder. No! Not an elder, an older. An older-than-me-er? And not that that's a bad thing, and-"

His mouth was running away with him, adrenaline pumping through his veins, still trying to keep It at bay. He was vaguely aware of the two male voices calling his name gently, but it was the harsh woman's voice that drew him out of his own mind. "Mr Lupin!" Professor McGonagall snapped, though there was clear concern in her eyes. "Would you kindly tell us what has happened?"

He immediately responded to the command, twisting hands falling to his sides and back straightening slightly. "There's a girl, in the grounds. I swear she appeared out of nowhere; one second there's nothing, then the next she's there. Anyway, Sirius tripped over her and fell down the hill- though he's fine- and James sent all of us off. Pete went to find Madam Pomfrey, Sirius went to get Hagrid, and I was sent to fetch," He flailed his arm limply in the Head's direction, "you." He noticed all three adults open their mouths to speak and he cut across in an unusual act of disrespect. "Don't talk." He snapped. "She was covered in blood. She needs help."

All three sprung to action, Dumbledore barking orders just as James had earlier, but as he was instructed to lead them to the injured girl, Remus halted. "She's by the big tree in the grounds, near the top of the series of slopes. She's just in view of Hagrid's Hut."
"Why don't you just show us, Mr Lupin?" Slughorn asked coolly.
"Uh, well, I just, um…" He paused at the door, feeling really rather intimidated as the three taller, and larger, people staring at him. It stirred uneasily, wanting to howl and bite and attack and be the alpha. Not intimidated. Not scared. As if sensing the inner-conflict of the teen, Dumbledore took a deliberate step back and bowed his head, almost imperceptibly. It calmed for a moment, and staring at his feet, he muttered, "I was wondering if I could maybe talk to you, Professor Dumbledore."

A spark of irritation flickered across the old man's face, but his voice was calm as ever when he asked, "Can it not wait until another time, Mr Lupin?"
Remus shook his head. "No Sir. Sorry Sir."
Their eyes met and the Head gave another, more obvious, nod. "Very well. Minerva; go to this girl and help as much as you can- if you cannot help her then bring her within the castle. Horace; check first the Hospital Wing, and if Mr Pettigrew has been successful in summoning Madam Pomfrey, go after them. If not, meet Minerva and help to bring the girl inside. I will follow shortly."

The two left swiftly, and Remus was left with that piercing blue gaze. "So, Mr Lupin, how may I help you?"
He scuffed his foot against the floor, gnawing his lip and staring determinedly at a spot past the man's shoulder. "Well… This girl who turned up… I just have this feeling…" He sighed heavily. "It doesn't understand her. It doesn't get why, or how she can exist. It can sense this, this magic, this huge, powerful magic, but if I hadn't seen her with my own eyes, I wouldn't believe that she was real. I mean, It wouldn't. It's difficult to explain Professor."
Dumbledore walked slowly back to his high-backed chair and regarded him seriously. "The wolf within you doesn't trust this girl?"
He shook his head and fell into Slughorn's vacated seat. "No, it's not that It doesn't trust her. It's more like she just doesn't make sense. Like she's out of place, or time, or something. The magic around her is very strong though."

The wizened man idly twirled his beard around one finger, and rubbed his crooked nose in thought. "This magic…" He began slowly. "How would you describe it? Powerful, but in what way? Is it dark, for example?"
Remus scrunched his nose, trying to remember the instinctive reaction It had had upon seeing the girl. "Yes… And no. As in, I got- I mean It got- the feeling that maybe she'd been attacked with dark magic. It didn't get the feeling that she, herself, used really dark magic. It just felt that this magic was old, ancient even. The only other time It has reacted like this was when I visited Wales with my parents, Castell Croc-something-or-another, and I just put that down to it being a near-full moon."

"I see." Dumbledore said softly. "Well, as long as you don't have the feeling that she's dangerous to the students-"
"Oh, no, Sir." Remus interrupted, ignoring the voice within that chided him on his lack of manners. "In fact… When It saw her, It got the feeling that she was part of a pack. Not Its pack, but a similar pack. It got the feeling that she would become part of Its pack."
Sharp eyes narrowed at him. "Do you believe she is also a, em, 'sufferer' of lycothranpy?"
"No no no," Remus said quickly. "No. I would have sensed that immediately. She's not a, you know… She doesn't have a little furry problem."

Dumbledore nodded, with a small smile. "Of course. Thank you for coming to me with this, Mr Lupin. I can only imagine how difficult it must have been." Remus gave a non-committal shrug and stared pointedly at his feet, making a sound similar to mfnlgm. The older man's eyes twinkled with humour. "Now, we'd best join the others and see to this strange girl, yes?" Remus nodded and followed his long strides to the door, pausing only when the Head stopped suddenly and gave him a curious look. "Was it Castell Crochenydd that you meant? The place you had visited?"

"Uh, yes Sir, that's the place." He answered, disconcerted by the sudden change of subject. "Rather than going abroad, my parents would take me on holiday to historical, magical sites around the UK. We visited Castell Crock-Croc-Crocken, well, there, when I was, erm, seven, maybe?"
"And you felt the same powerful magic there, that you have from this stranger?"
Nose scrunched, Remus thought back. "Um, not the same, exactly. Just, old. Powerful. Big." He bit his lip lamely; for all that he read, his vocabulary always seemed to fail him at the worst times.

But Dumbledore simply hmmed in his throat, eyebrows drawn slightly together, and murmured, "Curious." Before gesturing for them to continue. So absorbed was he with his own thoughts, that Remus didn't notice that they only had to go down two staircases before reaching the Entrance Hall, nor that the Professor was also silent, his own confusion keeping his brilliant mind occupied and making his bright blue eyes narrow and darken in concern.