It happened one frosty Tuesday morning in late November. The Change. The change that, on reflection, Remus supposed was inevitable. Like all the changes that seemed to occur in the Fifth Boys' Dormitory in the Gryffindor Tower (with the exception of James' recent infatuation with a certain red-head), this change concerned one particularly volatile individual.

Sirius Black.

Although bewildered and, quite frankly, hurt, Remus reluctantly knew that some good had come of this change. Sirius and James were once more attached at the hip, united in smirk, speech, and attitude. Particularly attitude, it had to be said.

Seemingly gone were the days of good-humoured pranking, and frivolous teasing of random students and individuals. From the frosty Tuesday of Change, there were two targets of pranking and teasing which began to take on a decidedly spiteful nature: Severus Snape, and Lily Evans. But the spite did not seem to end with incessantly failing romance and unreasonable dislike.

For some obscure reason, ever since Sirius had changed, his attitude towards Remus had become as glacial as the weather.

Thankfully, James, through the glaze of his infatuation, still seemed to value Remus as a friend. Peter, of course, was a constant. But somehow, because it was Sirius' rejection, the hurt burned at Remus. He had taken to burying himself in books in his breaks, just to avoid the reminders of the bizarre estrangement that had unexpectedly surfaced.

There were a few paltry positives in this arrangement. As James and Sirius' pranking took on an increasingly malicious tone, Remus did not feel pressured to participate, as he had before. Deep, deep, down, he knew that this was a positive. Unfortunately, the jarring, constant ache seemed to lie at the surface of his consciousness. While the prefect breathed a sigh of relief, the person kicked empty cans.

Particularly grating was Sirius' newfound appreciation of his own good looks. Slight awareness had been transfigured into egotistical satisfaction – or so it appeared to Remus, and to the rest of the student body. Unlike Remus, however, a good half of the student body didn't seem to particularly mind this change.

As James, taking the cue from his best mate, began to ruffle volume through his unruly hair whenever Lily walked into the room, Sirius was contrastingly cool. His pale grey eyes did not appear to see a need to improve his regular appearance, and so, as he lounged languidly with the Marauders, he merely tilted his head at odd intervals, allowing his long fringe to settle like a silky curtain across his face.

Remus regularly found himself staring at these odd mannerisms so readily adopted by his friends. Both Sirius and James had become infuriatingly, bizarrely shallow. While one felt compelled to adopt a rebelliously messy style, the other leaned towards shade and style. Undoubtedly, both found themselves utterly irresistible in a 'bad boy' persona.

Eventually, exasperated, somehow disillusioned, Remus would assure himself that this was just a phase, some ritual for teenage boys that he would hopefully manage to avoid. There was just no use preening for an audience when your mousy locks became tufts of steely grey fur once a month.

It was odd how Remus seemed to have been catapulted into the aggrieved position that Sirius had adopted just weeks ago. What was so good about girls anyway? Whatever magical, curvy, soft and delicate answer could attempt to satisfy, Remus simply couldn't understand.

So as Sirius grew colder, and girls began approaching the little group of four more regularly, Remus became more familiar with the library. Although it was only occasionally that Remus found himself stranded at the outer edge of a personal joke, a quidditch stratagem, an evaluation of a girl, he still felt fundamentally left behind.

Thankfully, Peter neither tossed nor straightened his hair, and attracted even less attention from girls than Remus. This was a strong source of comfort. At least Remus could be sure that he hadn't just missed some Fifth Year Boys' train or something.

However, despite becoming resigned to the unwelcome change in Sirius, nothing prepared Remus for the cacophony that greeted him one Thursday morning as he hurried towards breakfast, very aware of his tardiness.

"I got some charms, baby," James was crooning. His husky voice could have been quite pleasing, Remus duly noted, if it hadn't been so jarringly off-key.

"There's some sparks between us, girl," Sirius sang, swivelling his hips in a presumably provocative manner. Unfortunately for the female populace of Hogwarts, the billowing school robes were not particularly capable of clearly demonstrating such salacious dance moves.

Remus stood at the entrance to the Great Hall, arms folded, staring, slightly bewildered, at the sight that greeted him.

Gryffindor table. At the end closest to the teachers. Two very familiar boys atop the cloth. Three upturned bowls of cereal. Several displaced pieces of toast. And a very red-faced Professor McGonagall…

And he had thought that he was a jaded Marauder. He thought he had seen it all. But singing? A theatrical stage performance, why not, but Remus had never expected to see James willingly take to the stage in order to exercise his vocal muscles. Sirius – quite possibly.

But what on earth had prompted this little display? And who on earth was responsible for the absolutely tragic lyrics of the song?

As Sirius stamped one school shoe rhythmically on the tabletop, and Dumbledore clapped along most amiably, Remus could sense a building climax. Clasping each other's shoulders and shimmying, Sirius and James began to point directly at McGonagall, yodelling an ambitious duet:

"I know to whom my eyes will bee-line:

Our own Transfiguration feline!"

Remus' face shifted into an incredulous, reluctant smile as the entire school body leapt to its feet in applause, clapping a blushing Professor McGonagall who, despite this congratulatory performance, looked perfectly ready to murder two particular Fifth Year students.

"Excellent, most excellent!" Dumbledore's beaming voice rang out over the applause, and he gestured grandly to the bowed-head woman slumping deep in her seat beside him. "Please do get up, Minerva, and demonstrate your new-won talent!"

With an air of exceeding reluctance, McGonagall climbed to her feet, removed her pointed hat resignedly, and, before Remus could blink, disappeared. A flood of whispers spread through the Great Hall.

"Look there!" Sirius yelled in excitement from his exemplary vantage point atop the Gryffindor table. He pointed dramatically at the seemingly empty seat beside a clapping Dumbledore.

Remus stepped a little further into the Hall and gazed down towards the front. Now that he looked more closely, there did appear to be some movement, and look, a patch of sleek fur…

The Hall gasped as one as a cat suddenly leapt from McGonagall's abandoned seat and onto the table. Remus found himself grinning as Dumbledore chuckled, pushing a plate of kippers towards the transformed professor.

"A lesson to you all!" the headmaster cried, brandishing his goblet to the students in a toast. "Perhaps, with this wonderful new Animagus as an inspiration, you will all begin to work harder at mastering your Transfiguration skills!"

Sirius snorted loudly from the top of the table, earning a pointed glare from James, and the raised eyebrows of many students in the hall.

"Enough table dancing, Black!" someone shouted from the direction of the Slytherin table, and Remus could have sworn that Sirius was about to introduce a certain bird to this student, definitely a bad idea with a watchful cat right in front of him. Luckily, James grabbed Sirius before he could land himself a detention for indecent gestures, and the two Gryffindor boys toppled off the table with a distinct lack of grace.

"You could both take some lessons from our beloved Professor," Remus said with half a grin as he walked up to the tangle of limbs and black hair. "Cats always land on their-"

"Don't need to," James said shortly, winking at Remus. "Now, d'you reckon I should serenade Lily while my vocal chords are warmed up?"

"Mate," Sirius said, almost gently, a semblance of sympathy in his voice as he wrapped an arm around James' shoulders and propelled him towards the Entrance Hall. "I think the world has heard enough of our genius for a few hours."

Remus settled himself in to a hasty breakfast, grabbing one of the places vacated by his friends, and hoped his piece of toast had avoided the grubby heels of James' shoes.

"Why a cat?" Peter said in distaste, looking quite disgruntled over his own plate of sausages as he gazed towards Professor McGonagall, who had just readopted her human form.

"What's wrong with cats?" Remus asked, roughly swallowing a mouthful of toast.

"I don't know," Peter replied distantly, still staring forward. "Those claws and all. They're not friendly, you know."

Remus snorted. "You should see my claws-" he began to say, and then stopped himself, stuffing another slice of toast into his mouth before he could continue to blather his secrets to his fellow students.

"I dunno," Peter said, apparently oblivious to Remus' slip-up. He shuddered. "There's just something about their teeth…. Rats! We're going to be late to Potions!"

Hastily swigging some pumpkin juice from the only upstanding goblet nearby, Remus stood and followed Peter out of the Hall. He groaned silently to himself as he thought of the lesson ahead. Remus was not particularly skilled in Potions. Unfortunately, ever since the Change, Peter had been his constant partner, which seemed to lead unfailingly to disaster…

Blue. Remus felt blue. Not cornflower, nor sky, nor sapphire; more of a melancholy navy.

OWLs were slowly but surely approaching. James had made no progress in his pursuit of his fair maiden. Indeed, Lily had begun to show a certain irritation to even Remus. It seemed that he was unfortunately associated with the rest of the Marauders despite his long-standing friendship with his fellow prefect. He had barely started contemplating what to get his friends for Christmas. Potions was continuing to be an unmitigated disaster. And Sirius appeared to be making an effort to start his first proper conversation with Remus since the Change.

Sirius casually reclined on Remus' bed, upsetting a carefully balanced pile of starched pyjamas. It was hard not to notice the severe contrast between the old bouncing, familiar Sirius, and this new, aloof teenager.

Remus felt his eyes linger on the long, pale lines of Sirius' unsmiling face.

"Something different with your hair, Moony?" Sirius asked lazily, glancing shortly at Remus' head.

Remus felt himself grimace. He tried to quell the sudden burn of anger that this question had provoked. Of course it didn't matter that Sirius hadn't noticed, or mentioned this fact earlier. It had only been two days since Peter had accidentally turned Remus' hair blue in Potions.

"Yeah. I tried out your leave-in conditioner, Sirius."

"Well, turn it back to blonde, already, mate," Sirius sighed. "It suits you."

"It's light brown, thanks very much for noticing," Remus bit out, a little harder than he'd intended.

"Nah, it's dull blue. Let me grab my wand-"

"I don't need your help,"

"What's been your problem lately, Moony?" Sirius ground out, sitting up, slapping the side of the bed as he turned to face his friend properly.

Despite his increasingly blue situation, Remus saw red.

"My problem? You are asking me what my problem is?"

"Yeah, I am, Lupin!" Sirius shouted, sliding off the bed fluidly, swiping down the pile of starched pyjamas in one frustrated gesture. "What's up with you? You don't help us prank people anymore! You've always got your head stuck in a book! You never- you never smile, or talk to me, or-"

"Wait a minute," Remus interrupted, his voice decidedly icy. "You're the one who hasn't talked to me for three weeks."

Sirius scoffed, throwing his hands into the air, but seemed to have no other response to this accusation. "Look, me and Prongs, we've discovered the world of girls, alright mate? You should look into it sometime. A lot more interesting than books, anyway."

Remus tried to ignore the heated sensations of hurt and inferiority that suddenly coursed through his body. He reminded himself that Sirius was suffering in an insular world of teenage hormones at the moment, and that his hurtful words could thus be ignored.

It was difficult to believe this pitiful reasoning.

"Why have you been bullying Snape so badly?" Remus demanded, screwing his hands into fists as he glared at Sirius. "And why the hell did you just call James 'Prongs'? Have I missed much else while you two have been busy chasing girls around the castle?"

For some reason, just like that, Sirius seemed to deflate, throwing himself back down onto the bed and shaking his head, his face a thundercloud.

"It's not bullying, Moony," he finally muttered.

Remus wondered if Sirius could possibly be ashamed of himself. It was doubtful.

"Look, Snivellus has been really… inquisitive lately. About you, Moony. He keeps insulting you, you know. Only you don't know, because me and Prongs, we've been trying to… well, we've been getting at him like he's trying to get at you, okay?"

Anxiety swelled in Remus' chest, and his heart rate immediately picked up pace. "You've been cursing him all this time for – for me?"

Sirius nodded silently, his face averted. Remus noted dully that his cool had melted in the heat of his anger.

"I wish you wouldn't," Remus sighed, pressing a hand to his eyes and bobbing his head forward rhythmically as if to dispel his growing headache.

An uncomfortable silence stretched for a full two minutes before Sirius reached over and gently prised Remus' fingers from his face.

Remus looked up. As his blurry vision cleared, he noted that the Sirius sitting next to him was the old Sirius, the familiar Sirius, with an expression stuck halfway between irritation and anxiety, just like in the old days. The two boys gazed at each other for a moment. Sirius' stormy eyes were unreadable.

"The full moon's in two days," he said suddenly, an unnerving smile clutching at the corners of his mouth despite the faint air of nervousness behind his sudden movements. Remus could only nod and widen his eyes as Sirius heaved himself to his feet, crossing to the centre of the room with an expression of concentration of his face.

"I'm not the one to tell you about Prongs," Sirius announced with a slight rigidity about his stance, "but I hope this helps to explain something to you."

Remus felt oddly terrified as he watched his friend close his eyes in meditation. Quite frankly, the lack of explanation and the cryptic comments offered by Sirius did not create a peaceful atmosphere. Remus was rent by confusion and breathless anticipation as Sirius screwed up his face in concentration and then-

Disappeared?

"Merlin, you've gone and disapparated yourself for some unknown reason, and now you're probably splinched yourself and ended up with your legs here and your shiny hair in Dumbledore's morning tea," Remus muttered distractedly to himself in panic, before noticing that the 'legs' remaining in the dormitory had grown long dark fur and a lolling tongue and-

"Good lord," Remus whispered, plopping himself down on the bed from his panicky half-crouch. "You've actually done it." He laughed, a note of hysteria clearly evident in his voice. "Where's your song, eh? 'Transfiguration canine'?"

As Remus buried his head in his hands, shaking slightly all over, he felt the warm pressure of a distinctively doggy snout on his thigh and parted his fingers.

"Hello, Sirius," he whispered weakly. He watched, mute, as the dog transformed itself back into his friend, who shook his familiar black fringe across his eyes above a wide smile.

"It's Padfoot, now, Moony. Aren't many girls who I'd do that for, eh?" Sirius grinned, clearly enjoying Remus' reaction, but there was an element of disproportionate disappointment in his eyes as he turned to reach for a can of deodorant on his bedside table.

Remus didn't know whether to be happy or regretful that Sirius turned before he could see the fat tears lines glistening on Remus' cheeks.

A/N: Oooh, angsty adolescence. I hope I'm painting a clear picture of how Sirius and James became the berks portrayed in Book Five.

So anyway. I've decided not to update until I receive one million reviews.

Or maybe until everyone goes and google image's Damien Sargue, who is actually the best incarnation of Sirius I have ever seen in my life. :) Also, if anyone is into gorgeous, gorgeous French music, youtube the song "Aimer" from Roméo et Juliette, featuring my Sirius look-alike.

xx Froody