Author's Notes: This should have been up ages ago. I just found it listed under documents. Tons of apologies for the delay.

Back Home

"I've just had the worst holidays of my entire life."

The four Gryffindor third-year boys were sitting in a huddle in the common room, recounting stories of the past weeks. They had met at the earliest possible convenience and nearly everyone, it seemed, had received one or the other nasty shock in the course of these three weeks of holidays. Then again, perhaps the sudden cropping up of horror stories had had its origin in Sirius having recounted a number of unpleasant incidents concerning his relatives, indicating that no one could possibly have suffered more at any point of their lives than he had this Christmas. Following stories about his disputes with Regulus and their parents' consequential punishment of only fifty percent of the parties concerned, James had taken his turn recounting a story of unbelievable mishap and suffering involving his having to sleep in the cellar with his parents because the house had been almost completely destroyed by one of his father's colleagues while attempting to demonstrate his capture of a South-African Letifold.

Peter was sitting in an armchair, one hand placed on the shoulder of Remus Lupin, who had recoiled to the farthest end of the small couch and was hiding behind a book called 'Around the World in 800 Hours – Broomsticks and Their Capacity" to avoid unpleasant questions about his Christmas.

"I was also made to sleep in a tent," James continued complaining. "For two weeks in a row! We went on a no-magic adventure trip to East Sussex in the middle of nowhere right at the beginning of the holidays. There is a camp site near Hastings and my parents wanted to try it out… you know, to get to know Muggle leisure time activities. Complete waste of time, o'course. There was hardly a soul there and the weather was horrible!"

"Oooh," marvelled Peter. "Bad luck, mate. My parents never do that kind of thing. They're just listening to Wizarding Wireless all the time. Quidditch league comparisons, divination of second half results, end of year expectations, etc. I always get to decide for myself what I wanna spend my time with."

"You had a good Christmas then?" Sirius enquired, his face perfectly straight.

"Fantastic," said Peter, trying to sound honest. "I loved having time to complete that Charms essay and stuff… It really would have been much nicer if you guys had been around, though."

"Yup," nodded James.

"Same here," agreed Sirius. "Especially on Christmas Eve."

"I would have liked to see McGonagall's home," remarked Remus from behind his book. Three heads turned in surprise.

"What was that?" James prompted, seizing the chance of getting more out of his friend than just this one remark. "What're you talking about, mate?"

"I think it would be interesting to see where she lives… what her family is like, and so on," Remus replied without lowering his book. "I think she is quite interesting… as a person."

"Do you have a crush on her?" James said, looking baffled, while Sirius fell over in a fit of wild laughter. Remus's eyes appeared on top of his book's edge.

"No."

"You sound as though you do," Peter remarked, and James nodded in concurrence.

"She is a good-looking woman in her thirties, after all," he teased.

"Fourties," came Sirius's voice from underneath the other armchair. James gave him an irritable look.

"Whatever, mate. She's gross."

"I thought you said she was good-looking?" Remus enquired, his book at its previous position again. James's gaze darkened.

"Hey, that's not how I… for I you /I , you bleedin' idiot! Look, I am just trying to be helpful here, okay?" Anger flushed the Potter's face and, as always when attacked, his voice assumed a darker, defiant tone. "What do they say again about everlasting desire and stuff?"

"That's vampires, you fool," remarked Sirius, having recovered from his laughing fit. "Remus is just the big, dangerous monster no one likes to socialise with, remember?"

"Keep it down," warned Peter, noticing a change in their friend's expression while worrying, at the same time, that someone might run in on them any minute, what with the end of the start-of-term feast approaching. Sirius and James were giggling (while trying to remain very butch, of course) at the mentioning of their last Defence Against the Dark Arts lesson before the holidays, in which their teacher had informed them exactly which traits were typical for people like Remus both, in their human and in their wolf shape.

"Your family's rather nice, though, aren't they?" Peter addressed their werewolf friend quickly, embarrassed that James and Sirius should display such a good mood in light of Remus's condition. "Wasn't seeing your auntie again something you've been looking forward to all term?"

A pair of blue eyes appeared slowly from behind the book again. Remus was not the only one surprised at Peter not laughing alongside Sirius and James for a change, but it was even more surprising that he seemed capable of handling an awkward situation quite so elegantly.

"If you must know," sighed Remus then, putting his book away once and for all, as though deciding to give Peter a chance, "I did enjoy seeing them all again. I do think I'm more or less all right again, by the way. Oh, and since you mention my aunt…"

"Really?" cut Sirius in. "Completely recovered? I mean, mentally and stuff? About Balbina?"

There was a small pause. It was what everyone had wanted to know and what everyone had been too considerate to ask.

"Anyway," said Remus, his voice slightly higher and with an edge to it, "I was actually going to tell you that Dumbledore visited my family during the holidays."

"Really?" said James excitedly while Peter just stared, both eyes and mouth open.

"Really," repeated Sirius, to whom this did not seem in the least surprising. "Well done, mate. Any news then?"

"Well… yes," said Remus uneasily, "obviously, or I wouldn't be trying to tell you about it – if I may? Quite a lot happened while I was at home this time, actually, although I don't really know what to make of it all. Here's the thing: Dumbledore came over to talk to me about… about stuff." He was still carefully avoiding the subject of his most recent transformation. "And everyone was in a huff about it – my mother is horrible in that respect. She always cleans the whole house when we have visitors. Anyway, Dumbledore said he wasn't going to stay a minute – no idea how he was gonna manage getting home because the next ferry wasn't due until early the next morning – anyway, she started cleaning and father was out doing some repair work on the roof, I think, and my Auntie Maude was making dinner when Dumbledore arrived. So… he entered, stopped, stared, forgot all about me (literally – I could tell from the look in his eyes) and gazed at my auntie for a few moments. She, in turn, smiled at him and tried to offer him a seat, but he just stood there, paralysed, and eventually grabbed her arms, not saying a word. Very weird. He then turned around because my mother came in to greet him, but when she saw his face she was like – what's happened here? And he blinked and said thank you for having me and all that and then went on staring at Maude, as though thinking he was mistaken…"

Remus's voice was higher than usual now and he was speaking much quicker than usual.

"And then," he went on, "and then he said 'Maude', although no one had introduced them yet and 'is it you?' and stuff like that."

"Must've been scary," Sirius mused, suddenly quite serious and interested in the conversation again. "Dumbledore rarely ever loses his composure. What was wrong with her?"

"Well, my auntie's quite a special story," Remus replied. "But even I didn't know that until mother told me… well, Dumbledore all about it. She said Maude wasn't really my auntie. My parents found her one day, almost killed by Mull's pouring rain… well and possibly the people who seemed to be hunting her down. Mother said if a Muggle is hunted by wizards, he or she is usually a victim, not a crim-"

"Hang on," cut Sirius in, "didn't you tell us your auntie was from your mother's side?"

"Well," said Remus, "as I mentioned before – she doesn't seem to be my aunt after all… genetically," he added after a moment's hesitation. "I still love her and everything."

"But you said she was a Muggle!" Sirius said loudly, sounding confused.

"Impossible though it may seem to you, Black," snapped James, his head turning towards his tall friend, "it is possible to love Muggles. They are humans, you know!"

"That's NOT what I meant!" flared Sirius up. "How can it be that you thought she was from a wizarding family?"

"Everyone thought she was a witch," Remus said quietly. "My parents saw to that. I dunno… I know I never asked. Seems no one else did either."

"Okay, whatever," cut James in. "Why is it Dumbledore made such a fool of himself when he saw her?"

"Well," said Remus quietly, "that's the part I didn't entirely get. Cause he was like 'Maude, don't you remember me?' – cause she was staring at him as though he'd gone mad, you see. And he told her lots of names and places and she was always like – 'Never heard of it, Professor.' And he said he thinks she's bewitched or obliviated or something. Cause apparently she knows something – or ought to know something that's of real importance to him –"

"We gathered as much," said Sirius tiredly, letting himself fall backwards on the floor. Peter gave him a stunned look.

"What've you done to your skin?"

In the course of Remus's narration, Sirius had tested several ways of repeating what he had almost succeeded in doing the night Remus had attacked him. He had done so regularly ever since his limbs had obeyed his command again and by now was able to achieve a complete transformation of either his skin or the bones of his upper body. With a superior smile the young Black sat up again and allowed his friends to marvel at him for a while before willing the fur to disappear again. Remus had completely lost track and even James was lost for words.

"How long've you been able to do that?"

"Ages," replied Sirius, looking smug. "Been practising all Christmas."

"Incomplete transformations can be dangerous and cause permanent damage," said Remus warningly. "I read about it in…"

"Yes," cut Sirius in, sounding very impatient. "Yes, Remus. I read the same book, believe it or not. But I learned something down in that dungeon the other night. I learned that we'll never get the hang of the transformation if we don't make actual attempts. The Patronus idea was good to start with, but the next step is to actually perform magic -"

"But it's dangerous -"

"Remus!" Sirius appeared to grow more impatient by the minute. "I know it's dangerous. I know they say there is a risk of permanent damage, but I also know that there is a risk of me never succeeding in performing a complete transformation. And, believe it or not, I prefer taking the former."

"How much of your body can you change at the same time?" James enquired curiously.

"Oh, I dunno," replied his friend vaguely, suddenly a bit deflated. "I never… I haven't gone the whole way, you know. Not yet. I kept thinking I'd wait a bit longer after the accident… dunno. Just a feeling…"

"Well," said James, "do it now. I wanna see how far you can go."

Remus slammed his hand on the arm rest beside him and stood up. "Are you completely nuts, James Potter? Don't egg him on!"

"He doesn't need egging on," James said dryly, getting up as well, slowly and rather pointedly. He was about the same height as Remus, but the young werewolf backed away nevertheless.

"Right, whatever. Not here, okay? It's too out in the open."

A small sound from near the fireplace drew three pairs of eyes in its direction and made James's jaw drop. Sirius had used their little dispute to get up from his seat, lower himself on all fours and change his entire upper (or rather front) body into something resembling a huge, black dog. He growled at James, grew some more fur, and scrambled forwards, aiming at Remus, both legs and his torso still perfectly human shaped. James's expression broadened into a grin.

"That's awesome…"

"That's strange… I thought he was gonna be a wolf," Peter remarked.

"True," said James, scratching his neck. "Well, a dog would be more suitable, I sup- hey! STOP IT THIS INSTANT!"

Sirius had nonchalantly raised his leg at his pureblood friend, now looking as though he was aiming.

"You aren't THAT much of a dog, surely?"

It was at this precise moment that from outside the portrait hole girls' voices and laughter appeared. The end-of-term banquet had to be over and now people were returning to their common room, planning to retire. James saw a glint of panic on his three friends' faces and perceived his own stomach lurching.

"Turn back," he whispered. "Quick!"

But Sirius the dog sat on the carpet, his gaze directed at the back of the Fat Lady, his canine face panic ridden. James saw that his expression was more human again, and he perceived bits and pieces of the black fur disappearing on several parts of Sirius's handsome body, but on the whole their friend seemed to have unforeseen problems returning to his own shape and completely at a loss how to face them.

Seconds later the room was filled with Gryffindors. With a jolt of sudden inspiration, James had grabbed Sirius's furry neck and shoved the young Black under a heap of pillows piled up on one of the two red couches, head first, and with no consideration of how his friend was going to breathe. Remus inclined his head at Sirius's human backside sticking out, which looked ridiculous but not altogether unusual, considering their friend's normal behaviour.

A group of three girls were the first to enter, all of them in the same year as the three boys. Lily Evans was involved in some excited chatter with Rebecca Wood, while their friend Marlene McKinnon trotted along behind them, so absorbed in a book that she almost walked into Remus who was trying to keep James from seating himself on top of Sirius's pile of pillows.

"Lupin!"

"Yes," replied the young werewolf. "How are you today, Marlene?"

"Did you miss the feast again?" the girl said frowningly. "McGonagall won't be pleased. She did tell you last time that you have to attend these occasions, didn't she?"

"I believe she did," replied Remus politely.

"I know she did," came James's voice from the top of the pillows. "Because she threw something at me. Chalk, I believe it was."

"Raving mad that one," Remus remarked, feeling very bold. He did not get to chat with 'the cool ones' very often, save, of course, Sirius and James who in recent months had built up a reputation as mischievous intellectuals, which was highly appreciated even amongst the older students. The Gryffindor third-year boys were funny, everyone thought, but hardly anyone had Peter or Remus in mind while pointing this out.

Among the girls, Marlene McKinnon had acquired a status as their year's valedictorian. She seemed to have a knack for anything she started and to maintain her good grades for quite a long time, admittedly only until she lost interest, but this rarely ever seemed to happen. In flying lessons she had always been the one to go highest (not counting James, who had beaten her by inches only during their first lesson) and now, it seemed, she had taken a liking to Arithmency and Defence Against the Dark Arts, in which, Remus knew, she excelled.

"McGonagall's an ass," the girl now said, flicking Remus an interested side-glance. "She gave me a B on our last essay."

"Outrageous," came James's voice from several inches above. Remus wished he would shut up and stop drawing attention to himself and his position, but James seemed to enjoy this kind of risky game and so, it appeared, did Peter.

"Yeah," he eventually replied to the girl, who was still eying him curiously. He suddenly realised that this was a test. Several girls James had once described as 'the cool ones' were listening, waiting to see if he, Remus, was going to take this chance of being accepted into their exclusive circle. He scratched his head. "She's really unfair. I mean, she's the only teacher who docks points from her own house, isn't she? And it's… well… she should've known you're usually top of the class, so… yeah. What a bitch. She should have given you an A."

Everyone was silent now. For a moment, Remus thought he had enraptured them with his recount, but then realised that this was one of those silences where the speaker suddenly turns and becomes aware of the presence of another person in the room. For a panic-ridden moment Remus was too scared to move, but then turned and, not unexpectedly, looked into the eyes of the deputy headmistress, Professor McGonagall.

"Now," said the middle-aged witch crisply. "What nonsense is this? You do not usually talk about matters you have no insight in, Mr. Lupin. I am going to I assume /I that you had your own, private reasons for stating this nonsense, boy. No, don't say anything." She held up her hand, giving Remus no chance of defending himself, which was probably only the beginning of a well-devised retaliation plan. "I have come," their head of house now continued, "to enquire about the absence of a certain group of third-year boys during the start-of-term banquet. I trust, Mr. Lupin, you and your friends had a reason of profound value for not joining us in the Great Hall today?"

Remus blinked. She had noticed. How on earth had she noticed with several hundred students in her care?

"I was looking specifically for you," McGonagall informed him as though she had read his thoughts, "since we agreed for me to explain what happened before the holidays, do you recall that?"

Remus's stomach gave a funny jolt. The explanation, of course. McGonagall had asked for him to sit quite close to the front during the banquet in order for people to see that he was there and that he was human to make her story more believable. Her story of Remus "pretending" to be the werewolf in question in order to keep the Knights from randomly killing his fellow students. Remus could not remember everything Professor McGonagall and the headmaster had intended to tell the students, but he now remembered just how imperious it had been for him to be present at this specific start-of-term feast. His shoulders sagged.

"I am sorry, Professor," he whispered. "I forgot."

"That," said his Head of House curtly, "is apparent. I do not approve of this deliberate flouting of school rules, Mr. Lupin, as you know. I have told you before that the start-of-term banquet is as obligatory as any lesson and that I would put you in detention for skiving off. Funny, really, that you should be taking this risk."

She avoided the subject of the Knight matter, Remus noticed not without gratitude, and confided herself with being her outraged teacher self instead. Remus vaguely remembered her mentioning detention, but he doubted either of them had seen this as a real threat at the time.

"The same goes for you, Mr. Potter," the Professor continued raging, "And you, Mr. Pettigrew. I shall write your parents about this, make no mistake. And – Mr. BLACK! I am TALKING to you for Merlin's sake! Stop presenting me with your backside and come out of there this instant!"

Three very worried-looking faces turned to the place where Sirius's backside was still sticking out from under the pillows.

A muffled sound let Remus's heart sink even further. Not even Sirius's vocal cords seemed to have resumed their usual form. What would the Professor say if she saw half an Animagus in her own common room? Their cover was blown. A glance at James told him that the other boy thought the same.

The sudden appearance of Sirius's raspy voice from under the pillow made not only Remus jump.

"I don't think I will, Professor," it said. "I am in the middle of an experiment, you see…"

"Don't be ridiculous," snapped the deputy headmistress tartly. "Come out or I shall have to send you to the headmaster on your first day back."

There was a short moment in which no one dared move. Then, slowly, at a snail's pace, Sirius crawled out from under the blankets, looking almost entirely human again, not counting his face, which…

"So I thought," remarked Professor McGonagall dryly. "I would like to say that I expected better of you, Mr. Black, but for some reason this seems just your style. Go to the hospital wing at once and have Madame Pomfrey remove this ridiculous beard! You will hand her the potion you used and apologise for bothering her so early into the term. Is that understood?"

Sirius nodded, surveying the tips of his toes, but Remus could see that he was suppressing a grin. "Yes, Professor," he replied, his voice sounding pressed. "I am very sorry."