Disclaimer: The deal with Satan fell through. Still not J.K.

(A/N: For those of you longing to call OOC on Peter for the teeny bit of backbone he shows in this chapter, may I remind you that HE IS IN FREAKIN' GRYFFINDOR!?! And if you want to call it on Snape...dude, reread. There's a reason. Also, if you leave me reviews, I will love you forever and ever. I swear they make me update faster.)

Chapter 4: Finding Time

The next thirty words that ran through James's mind were swears. "Wormtail, go and freeze the Willow. I think Moony's going to Change."

Peter's eyes widened. "Now? But it's—he's not supposed to—"

"Well, he is. Look."

Still unconscious, Remus whimpered softly; his hair had already gone dark and lank from sweat, and had lengthened considerably; he had gone from pale to flushed and back again, and was presently sporting a corpse-like pallor; his ears looked very slightly pointed.

"We've got to get him out of the castle," James said, chewing his bottom lip nervously.

Sirius gave him a solemn nod, but Peter looked slightly annoyed. "Don't you need my help?"

"Wormtail, you've got the upper body strength of a malnourished toddler," James said evenly. "Go and freeze the Willow."

Peter frowned at him, but made no further objections. Seconds later a tiny gray-black blur hurtled off down the hallway, squeaking indignantly.

James turned to Sirius, who was shaking his head. "How are we going to get him out of here?" he asked.

James was rooting through his bag. "This," he said, tugging at something that seemed to be stuck, "should help."

The Invisibility Cloak was pulled loose, but Sirius looked no less worried. "That's going to look a bit weird, Prongs," he said hesitantly.

"Class isn't even half over," James said, already in the process of draping the cloak over Remus. "No one is even going to see us. We'll take that passage by the kitchens."

"Can't," said Sirius, look uncharacteristically worried. "Blocked it off this morning when you set off that Dungbomb. Filch is guarding it like his firstborn."

James swore quietly. "How about the one near the one-eyed witch? If we go out through Honeydukes—"

"Oh, that'll go over brilliantly," Sirius replied. "'Excuse me, do you mind if we drag this werewolf through your sweet shop?'"

"I don't see you with any clever ideas!"

"I was just—"

"James?" said a tiny voice from several feet below them. "Sirius?"

The two boys dropped instantly to the floor. "Moony!"

"Are you all right?" asked James.

Remus laughed weakly. "Of course not, you prat. I'm…turning into a bloody werewolf…" He stopped and coughed viciously, frowning at the helpless look his friends gave him. "Just…get me out of here…before someone sees…please."

James swore again, this time not bothering to lower his voice. "Moony, don't you go and pass out again!"

Remus clutched at his own stomach and groaned miserably, his entire face contorting as he twisted back and forth. James tried to pull the Cloak back over him.

"At least hold still."

"It hurts…"

James bit the inside of his cheek, forcing himself to keep his face calm. Remus would experience nothing like the painless, effortless transformation Peter had undergone minutes before, and James felt half-sick at having to watch his friend in that condition.

"I know it does," he said softly. "Come on, you'll be fine, you haven't even yelled at us today…"

"Any special reason you're whispering words of comfort to the floor, Potter?" said the voice of the person they least wanted to deal with at the moment.

"Fortunately for you, Snivellus, I have neither the time nor the energy to hex you as you deserve to be hexed," said James, his teeth gritted in annoyance, "so you've got a blissful four-second window to get the hell out of my sight before I murder you."

"That's Lupin, isn't it?" Snape said instantly. "He's under that cloak thing of yours. Which means—but not for another week—but he is—"

"None of your bloody business, Snivellus. Leave. Now."

"What are you doing out of class then, if it's not him?" Snape insisted, curiosity overcoming the desire to not have his face punched in.

"I might ask you the same."

"I am returning a book to Professor Slughorn. I have a legitimate reason to be out in the corridor."

"You are going to be beaten to a pulp if you don't shut your astoundingly slimy mouth and get out of our way," Sirius growled.

"I was only going to say," said Snape icily, "that if that is Lupin, and he is Changing…" He spat out the next several words as though he didn't like the taste of them: "…then I'll help you get him out of here."

This did not seem to fit with James's understanding of the universe. "What?"

Snape folded his arms and glared, apparently not prepared to say this more than once.

"I could swear I heard you say—"

"Do you think I want that thing running round the place where—" his black eyes flicked sideways, in the direction of Slughorn's classroom "—my friends live?"

Sirius gave him a murderous look. "Remus is not a 'thing', you foul, greasy little—"

James signaled for silence. "Look, we appreciate the sentiment, Sniv—Snape," he couldn't quite bring himself to use anything more polite Snape's actual last name, "but the only thing we need right now is a place to stash a werewolf, a stag and a dog the size of a small bear. Unless you know where—"

"Yes," said Snape. "I do."

Sirius was intensely annoyed by this. "We don't need his help," he hissed in James's ear while Snape studied his fingernails and pretended not to hear them.

James was silent for almost a full minute. He certainly didn't want Snape's assistance, but whether he needed it or not was another matter. Finally, giving Snape a sharp, impatient look, he said, "All right. Where?"

"There's a room on the seventh floor," he said, looking quite as annoyed as James and Sirius. "If you can get him there, no one stands a chance of finding you, even if they're looking."

There was another minute of silence in which Sirius glared daggers at James for getting him into this situation. "There's a passage by the great hall that comes out up there," he said after a long pause.

Snape nodded curtly and turned on his heel, intent on making as little eye contact as possible. "This way, then," he said with something that sounded like a sigh.

OoOoOo

Severus Snape studied a massive tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy with expertly feigned interest. He had been doing so for perhaps fifteen minutes when he said very, very quietly and, it seemed, to no one in particular, "And don't tell anyone about this," and marched very stiffly down the corridor.

"Who does he think we're going to tell?" said a voice with no visible source. "Like we'd go around bragging about the bundle of laughs we had…"

James pushed his way out from behind a statue after Sirius, eying the stretch of wall opposite them with a grim expression.

"Is it just me that thinks that looks like a bloody broom cupboard?" asked Sirius after a moment.

"Dammit," muttered James, a bit breathlessly as he was still dragging a thrashing Remus along behind him. "I knew he wasn't going to be any help!"

"Wonderful," Sirius grumbled as he threw open the door. "Bloody fantastic. How is Remus—how are we—how are any of us going to do anything in a stupid sodding—"

Sirius stared blankly for minute as James dropped Remus on the floor and promptly forgot he existed.

"I love this castle," said James immediately.

The room was, in fact, enormous.

"This is mad," Sirius said, looking somewhere between curious and angry. "I know I've been in here, but it didn't look anything like—"

"Shut up and help me," James grunted. He was trying without success to heave Remus over to the massive four-post bed that monopolized a far corner. Sirius wasn't listening.

"It was right here," he went on. "But it was all filled with things…I had this box I was keeping them in…"

"Keeping what—Stupefy!"

The red light seemed to snap Sirius back to attention. "What the hell are you doing?"

"He's easier move like this," said James with a shrug. "And it stops him trying to gnaw my arm off, doesn't it?"

Again, Sirius was distracted, this time by a large wooden case James hadn't noticed was there. Sirius was backing away from it like it might explode.

James left the immobile Remus half on the bed and half off it and bent low over the box to study it. "Where'd this come fr—?"

"Nowhere. It's nothing. Don't open it," Sirius said before the question could even be asked.

"Since when are you afraid of furnishings, Padfoot?" James snickered.

"I'm not afraid of it," Sirius said flatly. "Just don't open the bloody box."

James shook his head, still with a slight hint of laughter.

The box exploded, more or less.

OoOoOo

"You could have told me," said James several minutes later. He was cleaning the soot off his glasses and Sirius was looking as sullen as James had ever seen him.

"I did," Sirius said, staring rather fixedly at a spot some three feet to James's right for no reason that was readily apparent. "About…six years ago. 'My whole family's been in Slytherin.' Couldn't make it much clearer, could I?"

James frowned. "Well, yeah…but I never thought…I mean, that must be a Howler a week since you got here!"

Sirius smiled dully. "Only when Mum's in a good mood. Usually it's two." He looked briefly at James and then looked away again just as quickly. "You see why I'm not going back there."

Dumfounded, James said nothing for a full minute. "You're what?"

"Stupid, right?" Sirius said with an insincere laugh. "Knew you'd think so. But I'm not setting foot in that house again, I promise you that."

James blinked at him. "Everyone has it out with their parents at some point, mate, you can't just—"

Judging by the look on his friend's face, this had been entirely the wrong thing to say.

"Everyone?" Sirius said in a low voice. "And I suppose everyone goes home to have a mad house elf burn half their things to get the 'stench of Mudblood'—" James tensed visibly at the word, but Sirius plowed on without noticing, "—off of them? No? How many lectures about how his friends are scum that ought to be exterminated do you think Peter has had to sit through? How many nights do you think Remus had to spend sleeping in the boiler room for talking to Muggles?" His eyes narrowed. "When's the last time your Mum told you she wished you'd never been born?" He gave the same high, constricted laugh he had before, looking at James through the fingers he had spread over his face. "You don't know how lucky you are."

James said the only thing he could think of.

"You're staying at my place."

Sirius laughed in earnest, and within the next few seconds a stag and a shaggy black thing more like a bear than the dog it was supposed to be had settled down to wait for the werewolf's awakening.