Disclaimer: I don't own anything but my plot, ideas and characters.

Disclaimer II: I don't own the song There's Gotta Be More To Life. That belongs to Stacie Orrico.

Enjoy.

-

I've got it all, but I feel so deprived
I go up, I come down and I'm emptier inside
Tell me what is this thing that I feel like I'm missing
And why can't I let go?

"There's Gotta Be More To Life"

Remus

I can't help thinking that there's gotta be more than all this. The only thing I'm doing is drawing the map and its not even proper drawing. Its bigger, defined pictures from scribbles on napkins! My fingers have been itching for my guitar strings to strum and an ink pen to let music notes stain parchment.

Sirius, James and Peter are working on something for the last three weeks. Something big, I can tell. Jeez, it's not even been a month since we got back here! I'm quite annoyed that they won't tell me anything about it, though. Do they think I can't be trusted because of the badge I have to wear on my chest? Do they think I've changed? For God's sakes, I've been involved with as many pranks as they have and whatever we do, we do things together. It's like that saying, a good friend bails you out of prison, a best friend sits in the cell with you.

James is away with Sirius, throwing Quaffles or poring over Quidditch diagrams when he can't get outside. Peter is constantly scooping out the last of the castles secret hideaways or kissing the face off his new girlfriend, Andrea Wallis. To be perfectly honest, I think she is just using him. She could get any guy she wanted, because apparently she's "fit gorgeous" and had been out with a number of guys before, most of them sixth and seventh years although she had dated a lot of guys in my year too. I didn't even think she was that good looking.

She reminded me of a cat with her bright green eyes and her plucked, slanted eyebrows with her shiny black hair that just looked like fur. I tried to get the cat image out of my head but it stuck. Sirius just called her a stuck up bitch, so I suppose I could have said worse. He only said so because she turned him down. (like, in third year. Sirius just can't let go of a grudge- ask Snape.)

I think she had been out with Dylan Cross, a Hufflepuff twat. Also Benjamin Neil, Byron Hutch, and Kyle Hall from Hufflepuff. Oh, plus Simon Boot and Connor Davies from Ravenclaw. She'd been out with Paul Simmons and John Carlyle in Gryffindor. Sirius had asked her out. She'd been out with a number of Slytherins, and being a Gryffindor it was kind of… frowned upon? OK, actually, a lot of people ended up hating her. I do, because she is an actual cow to Jenna, but still.

Out of all of the Slytherins she had dated I can remember:

Derek Flint, the Slytherin Quidditch Captain. Antonio Dolohov, nutcase. Scott Pipstone, creepy weirdo. Icarus Nott, another weirdo. Preston Avery, little grass. I think she'd even been out with Lucius Malfoy. She'd been out with Snape, even.

Anyway, what was I talking about? Oh yeah, Sirius, James and Peter. Well, they had been ripping me to shreds, too, naturally.

I hated them sometimes. They were my best friends and I hated them sometimes. No, that's not true. I hated the way they made me feel. They made me feel… I don't know.

I do know that, (even if it was only partially their fault) sometimes I feel so animated and alive all I want to do is sit and draw the Marauders Map all night long or just sit and laugh and belong. Other times I feel so depressed and tired of everything that I have to force myself out of bed in the morning. I don't see the point in anything and I wish I could escape my own head and be someone else, anyone else except myself. I need to belong.

I tied my watch tighter on my wrist, even though it was too tight already. It was just after eleven. I was supposed to come off duty in a half hour. I felt restless and idle. I wanted to do something. I wanted to run.

Ignoring my schedule, I headed a floor up from where I was supposed to be 'patrolling' and found myself pacing in front of a large blank stretch of wall. The Room Of Requirement. How ironic. How would this room know what I required if I didn't?

Think now.

What did I require?

What did I require?

What did I require?

I needed to belong, be a part of something with people just like me.

I got the shock of my life as I fell through a door. I got to my feet clumsily, staring around in astonishment. There were people sitting in cream coloured chairs in a semi circle, facing a giant black board that took up almost a whole wall.

And I knew most of these people. None of them were wearing ties but I recognised them anyway. I saw quite a lot of Ravenclaws. Was it a Ravenclaw meeting? Nope, cause there was Carla Moran, a well known seventh year, who was in Hufflepuff. And… Oh my god.

Jenna Lurenz. Lily, Andromeda and Carrie Rose's best friend. My best friend. What was she doing here? Why did I not know why she was here? I'm her best friend. I need to know everything. It's the law. And by the way, since this is the thoughts in my head, I suppose I should tell the truth.

Jenna Lurenz is beautiful. And she's my best friend. God, Remus, quit dreaming.

Dad always called me a dreamer. He said I needed to wake up.

Because there was no hope in Jenna and me. We had grown up together. My very first, faint memories are of us toddling about. Then us at playgroup. Us at nursery. Learning to tie shoelaces, build sandcastles, colour inside the lines and swing. Well, we swung by ourselves, pushing our legs proudly in front of parents and pushing each other when they were gone. And we would twist, sharing the sky and smiles.

We had both had those happy times, but there were the bad ones too… Our parents, once good friends, having blazing arguments and forcing new rules and sanctions for not applying. We still sneaked around to be together, to hang out at the tree house with the wooden swing and the climbing rope. And then they found out. We didn't see each other until the train ride… On the first of September, on my very first year of Hogwarts and seeing that brazen scarlet steam engine…

XxX.

'Remus!' a very familiar voice screamed. I turned around, dropping a heavy trunk and ran straight into the arms of someone I had missed so, so much.

'Jenna! Jenna,' I couldn't stop saying her name, terrified it was just another dream and she was going to disappear.

'Oh my God!' she half screamed into my shoulder.

I, ever the big macho guy, took both our trunks onto the train. We ignored our parents, just as we had the two years before and boarded ourselves. I told myself everything was going to be picture perfect, I had my best friend back and I was going to school. We could play guitar together again and sing and write and take pictures and do a million other stupid things that best friends do…

Even though a lot had happened in the two years we had been apart, I told myself that we would just dish and then get over it. I could tell something had gone out of her, her eyes didn't shine so much and her shoulders drooped as though the day had worn her out already. We were walking and I looked around, she looked at the floor. I wanted to know everything, forgetting that ignorance is bliss. And what would happen when she found out-

Pushing unwelcome, negative thoughts out of my head, I just smiled at her. She smiled at me and her eyes shone again, like they used to.

And then I walked into a compartment where three dark haired boys were having a raging argument and a girl sulked in the corner, clutching a black sketchbook and blowing a reddish brown fringe out of her eyes…

XxX.

'Hi, pull up a chair,' said Jenna, as though she didn't even know me.

I did as she said but I couldn't stop staring at her. She looked a little bit afraid but it was mostly defiance in her dark blue eyes. She didn't realise that it was because I couldn't stop looking at her. She was so beautiful. Her eyes were a deep, dark blue and I felt like I was drowning every time I looked into them. Her figure was too slender and I knew why- but it didn't bother me. She wore quite a bit of make up but I still remember her without it. Her hair was chocolate brown and she straightened it, long hair that covered her shoulder blades. I knew it was curly but she was trying to fit in.

That's all anyone had to do at high school. Be clever but not too clever. Be pretty but not too pretty. Be cool but not too cool. Be funny but not too funny. And there were always the ones who decided who met these requirements and made everyone else's lives living hell. I only knew this from Jenna, she informed me on how the female brain worked. I could see some guys do it too, but it was mostly the girls.

Jenna fit in. And she was so very, very beautiful.

I tuned into what she was saying.

'Would anyone like to put their name forward to lead a lesson? We are having a group therapy tomorrow or the next night, depending on what everyone is doing…' Jenna faltered and appealed for support.

'I'll be here for the group,' said the person I had dragged my seat next to. She had dreamy, greeny blue eyes and golden mouse blond hair. Her hair was short, with a sleek fringe that covered half her face and the whole hair ended at the base of her neck.

There's a general murmur of assent.

'OK, to put it simply, who won't be here for the group therapy?' Kaled Somn, a quiet, shy Korean girl in Ravenclaw, in my year raised her hand.

A guy I didn't recognise at first put his hand up too and so did Carla Moran. Then I recognised him. Gray Leithson, the younger brother of "legend" Rory Leithson. Gray Leithson was in my house, now a seventh year. I vaguely remembered he used to be on the Quidditch team but he had been pulled off it when he was a fifth year. I couldn't remember the reason, being only a lowly third year at the time- juniors never got told anything. He had a gaunt face and short blond hair.

'Well, if you change your minds, you know where we'll be,' said Jenna. 'Now, I had an idea for today. We should all come and write something good that we can do, on the blackboard.'

She smiled as we all raised our eyebrows sceptically.

'I know, I know. But because we're doing group therapy counselling tomorrow…' she trailed off as people looked around uneasily.

What was group therapy counselling? Jenna obviously could see the question written on my face.

'Group counselling is-.'

'Shit.'

This came from a girl sitting next to the Hufflepuff Quidditch commentator, Ryan Far. She had long russet brown hair, a rounded face with grey green eyes and a girlish dimple as she smiled. A few people laughed appreciatively.

'Yeah, it's shit, Bethany but we need to do it,' grimaced the girl next to me, with the dreamy eyes. 'It'll help us, eventually. According to Tom Marvolo Riddle, anyway.'

'Who's Tom Marvolo Riddle?' I couldn't help asking.

'He founded this group- HELP, almost thirty years ago. He started it when he was in fifth year and pupils have carried it on ever since. None of the teachers know. Except maybe Dumbledore, but that's because he knows everything,' admitted Carla Moran.

'What is HELP?' I asked.

No one answered me, they all looked away. I repeated my question and Christina Krawallen answered in a soft, gentle voice I had never heard her use before.

Christina Krawallen was in Slytherin, and in my year. She usually wore the regulation vat of make up and her hair was always impeccably styled in a side ponytail with assorted hair bands. She was usually scowling and it was rumoured that she cried in the girl's toilets during breaks, then painstakingly reapplied her make up before venturing out again. Not tonight, though.

Her hair was shadowy black and rested on her shoulders. It shone like silk and it didn't have a hair band in it. She was wearing hardly any make up and looked a lot better without it. She smiled at me tentatively and I smiled back. Christina had a surprisingly nice smile! I was used to seeing her scowl.

'You only find HELP when you really need it. It's for people who need each other, people like themselves.'

And then I finally got it. This was a group for people going through tough times and trying to get over their pasts. This was I needed to belong.

'I'm in. And I'm coming to group therapy,' I said firmly. No one disagreed.

I'm good at singing.

I'm good at making jewellery.

I'm good at getting out of detention!!!

I'M GOOD AT KISSING!

I'm good at peacemaking.

I'm good at piano- shock!

I'm good at painting cats.

I'm good at dressmaking.

I'm good at blowing things up!

I'm good at composing.

I'm good at hair.

I'm good at sketching.

All written in different handwriting- sloping, sliding, slanting, scrunched up, seriously neat, seriously messy…

And I was part of it. No one could tell me I was wrong because I was just one of the many. I belonged. It thrilled me. It was also a delicious secret to keep from the guys who were obviously hiding so much from me. At last I could do something secretive and possibly be deceptive, too. The rest of the Marauders needed to wake up and smell the potion, then take a taste of their own foul medicine. I hate being excluded. Maybe that's why Jenna looked so scared. I was a bit miffed that she hadn't told me but I would get over it. I could forgive her anything.

Best of all, I wouldn't show up on the Map once I got in here. The Map still had a 'few adjustments' to be made. I was stared at pointedly when James mentioned this. Naturally.

'Hey, Jenna, I hate to be a wet weed but I'm exhausted. I'm going to bed,' said Gray Leithson, rubbing at his gaunt face.

'It's ok, it's getting kinda late anyway,' replied Jenna. 'I'm going to pack up tonight,' she continued, staring pointedly at me. I got the hint and while the rest left, I hung back.

Jenna started to stack chairs neatly and I joined her. I knew she was trying to think of what to say because her teeth worried at her bottom lip and she kept flexing her fingers. I walked to be closer to her and opened my arms. She looked perplexed and then it cottoned on.

I hugged her the way we used to hug when we were younger. A tight hug with no space for breathing. I let her go a bit and she looked at me gratefully, understanding that I had told her, without speaking, that I didn't mind.

She kissed my cheek and her lips lingered. I could smell the faint lingering scent of her perfume. I kissed her on her trembling mouth and it was a few seconds before I realised she was crying.

I wiped away her tears with my thumbs, like I always have and she kept my hand pressed against her cheek.

'I'm sorry.' Another whispered apology.

'I'm not that bad at kissing, am I?'

A choked laugh. Then a fearful look.

'She's back. And obviously, so is he.'

'I know.'

'It'll be harder to get rid of them now.'

'I know that too.'

'Don't you just wish things could be how they were when we were younger?' Jenna said wistfully, taking my hand away from her cheek. I hugged her again and felt her smile against me.

'What?'

'Just memories…'

She pulled away and we walked back to the Common Room together, silently, with tears dripping down our faces like the rain on the windows of the breakdown…