Who's Afraid of the Big Bad Wolf?

One dreary afternoon in late October, James Potter was conducting his monthly room cleanup like the good young wizard he was.

He straightened his curtains, put away his broomstick, tided up his worktable, collected his textbooks, lined up his shoes, fixed his bed, hanged up his robes, organized his trunk, and after locating their Welcome mat from the bathtub and placing it back in front of the door, James deemed it a day's work.

Just as he was settling down on his bed with the latest Quidditch magazine, the door burst open and Sirius Black entered, with Peter Pettigrew trailing closely by.

"Hi," said the latter, sitting on his desk chair. He took a bite from his cheese sandwich.

James' eyes narrowed as took in the track of crumbs. He had just finished sweeping the floor, and now it was a mess all over again. What was the point of even cleaning? Also - how come it was always him tidying up? He wasn't the only person who lived there. And another thing –

Whoa, James shuddered. I'm starting to sound like Mum. Quick - think happy thoughts: Quidditch, pranks, detention…alright…that was close.

"'Sup," he replied. "Where's Remus?"

"Gone," was Sirius' reply. He was digging through Remus' trunk, chucking things over his shoulder without a proper care in the world.

"What are you doing?"

Sirius' head emerged, his hair was a mess. "Hoping to Merlin Rem's Potion homework is here and not with him. It's due tomorrow and I haven't even started." Sirius starting digging with a new vengeance as he continued, "Remus left before I remembered to ask him. Said he had to go home because his grandfather had died or something…poor bloke. He has the worst luck in the world. Didn't his grandma die, like, last month?"

"No," said Peter, shaking his head and flicking bread crumbs around, making James struggle to control his breathing. "She died in June," the blond continued. "Remus' mother had gotten sick last month, so he went back to take care of her."

"Er, I don't think so," objected James, sitting up. "Last month, he told me he was in Romania burying his great uncle who had Dragon Pox."

"FOUND IT!" Sirius' triumphant cry cut through. He held the paper above his head like a trophy and started to do his happy dance. However, he was cut short when he skidded on a calendar he had chucked out of Remus' trunk, and fell down on his bum.

A red blush crept up Sirius' neck as Peter snickered.

"S'not funny," he mumbled, getting up. When Peter didn't let up, though, Sirius flung the calendar at his face.

James snatched it away before Peter could retaliate. Something on the calendar had caught his eye. It was just like any other calendar, with days and months and messages written under some days. But what initially caught his attention was the large red circle drawn around October 22 – today's date.

Frowning, James flipped through the calendar. November 21 and December 20 were circled, too. Flicking back, he noticed one day for every month was marred with the same red marker. September 23…August 24…July 26…June 26...this was very confusing.

"Check this out," he called to his friends, and showed them his discovery. They, unfortunately, were stumped as well.

"What do you think this means?" asked Peter.

"Wait a minute!" said Sirius suddenly. "It's Remus' grandfather's funeral today. This could be a reminder, or something."

"But what about the other dates?"

Sirius shrugged. "Like I said, Remus has dead awful luck. Maybe those days are when his family is going to die." His face brightened. "Hey, that could mean he's psychic! He could predict who will win at Quidditch games…we'll be rich!"

James rolled his eyes. "Surely he'd tell us if he were psychic. There must be a more logical explanation."

Peter said, "We could check out the library, I suppose…"

"Well what are we waiting around here for? Let's go!"

Before they could get on with their quest, James made a quick detour to the Hospital wing to get something to soothe a random headache he had gotten. Sirius and Peter waited impatiently outside until James emerged, slightly green faced. He put on a shaky smile and followed their lead to Hogwart's library, his steps getting heavier the closer they got.

The truth was James didn't have a headache at all. It was the mere thought of stepping foot inside the library that sent him nearly sprinting to the Wing to retrieve some Calming Draught. What his friends didn't know was that James Potter had an irrational fear of libraries. Long ago, when James was a young boy, he had gotten separated from his mother when she had taken him to the local library, and he it felt like he had been lost forever. The corridors were dark and the shelves were imposing and it seemed like they were going to close in on him and crush him flat just as he was rescued. Since then, James had vowed to never go near another library again.

But now, it seemed like he was going to break his vow. However, strangely enough, James didn't seem to mind. This is for Remus, he reminded himself as Peter pulled open the doors. Think happy thoughts…Quidditch, pranks, detention…Quidditch, pranks, detention…

Before he knew it, they had found the table and Peter and Sirius had gathered some books and everything seemed to be going to plan.

Picking up the first book from the stack (A Comprehensive Guide to Fortune Telling), James began their mountainous task.

Hours later, James felt like his eyes were going to roll out of his head.

…hundreds of years. One Seer, Constance Godwin, had discovered how to control her Sight to appear for a short period of time. Her technique caused eyebrows to be raised, though, for it consisted of a single nail clipping of a werewolf as an ingredient. However the magic of werewolf clippings (or rather any other part of the werewolf) loses its properties soon after the werewolf has Turned back. Constance's method would only work for a few days before losing control of her Sight again. Finding a werewolf and trimming a nail once a month without being killed or Turned was tiring to some Seers, so one man, Stephen Aldred, had found another system involving goat's milk and elf hair…

James sighed, slamming the book close. This was becoming hopeless. Gazing distractedly out the window, he was shocked to find it out already dark out. We must've been in the library longer than we thought. The full, silver moon that was high in the sky was a testament to his point.

Something suddenly clicked in his mind. As if his legs had a mind of its own, they stood up, walked around the table and over to the bookshelves at the back of the library – the Magical Creatures section. His hands were on autopilot as they skimmed through the spines. Trolls…unicorns…vampires…werewolves! Scanning through the titles, James selected The Signs and Indications of a Werewolf.

Carrying the volume back, he set it down on to their table with an excited thump. Peter woke with a start.

"What'zat?" he asked sleepily.

James ignored him, turning the pages feverishly before he found what he was looking for - Symptoms of a Lycanthrope.

Sirius meandered his way back to their table, then, sprouting a grumpy face. He was undoubtedly tired like the rest of them, and wanted nothing more then to crawl into bed. So when he took in James' cheery disposition, he was perplexed.

"What's with him?" the boy asked Peter.

"Dunno," replied the second year.

"EUREKA!" cried James.

"…but it looks like he's found something."

Sirius leaned forward across the table. "What've you got?"

James grinned proudly before sliding over the book. Sirius pulled it between him and Peter.

"'Symptoms of a Lycanthrope,'" read Sirius aloud. "'Include (but are not limited to) the following: amber or golden eyes when human, sudden mood swings and violent tempers before the full moon, bruises and deep cuts or scratches following the full moon, fatigue, heightened hearing and sight, fondness for raw meat…'" Sirius looked up. "Oh, come off it, James. You don't honestly believe Rem's a…" he lowered his voice to a whisper. "…werewolf, do you?"

"Sure, I do. The clues are all there. We were just stupid enough not to take notice. Remus Lupin is a werewolf!"

"Shhh!" admonished Sirius, taking a cursory look around. Relieved that no one appeared to have heard, he hissed. "I'm not saying you're right, but I'm not saying you're wrong either. We should do a bit more investigating first before jumping the gun on your crazy idea, OK?"

Peter agreed. "Yeah, wouldn't it just suck if he wasn't, ah, you know...? That'd be aaawkwaaaard," he sang.

"Fine by me," said James, standing up and stretching his tired bones. The Calming Draught was starting to lose its effects and he was getting antsy to go.

"Great," said Sirius, heading to the exit and leaving his books and crumpled parchments on the table for his friends to deal with. "Now if you'll excuse me, I've got a date with a nice girl named my bed."

Peter waved to Sirius' retreating figure, as James grumbled under his breath, stacking up the books to put back on the shelves.

"Do you reckon we know My Bed?" he asked, then yelped, ducking before James' response, a rather heavy book, could hit his head.

Over the next few weeks, the Marauders took extensive notes on everything and anything Remus did that hinted of him being a werewolf.

After coming back from his grandfather's 'funeral', Remus Lupin was pale and withdrawn. Sirius was triumphant, declaring it was because he was still shaken up from the death of his grandfather, but after James pointed out the new scars that littered Remus' arms, Sirius became lost for words. Unless Remus had wrestled a dragon at that funeral, there was no other way to explain it then that he was a –

During meal times, Remus was particularly keen on anything meaty. He was very partial to steaks, roast beef, roast chicken, kebabs bacon, lamb chops and especially rare meat.

Then again, so was Frank Longbottom, but even the third year never attempted to pile it all on a sandwich and declare it 'lunch', and he certainly wasn't a –

One day, while walking back to the common room from classes, James had 'accidentally' dropped his silver ring (it obviously wasn't real silver, but he couldn't let Remus know that) and it rolled by Remus' feet.

"Oops. Could you get that for me, Rem -?"

"Did you hear that? I think someone's called my name. COMING!" Remus zipped out of there, extra careful to walk a wide berth around the silver ring. James stared back, further sure now that his friend was, without a doubt, a –

On November 21, the next date that was circled on Remus' calendar, (they even referred their lunar charts in Astronomy just to be sure) was the full moon.

The morning started normally enough. At breakfast, the Marauders schemed about pranks and sneered back at Slytherins. They noticed, however, that Remus didn't put forth any ideas for the pranks and his sneer was completely lackluster. His appetite wasn't there at all, either, preferring only a dry slice of toast. Though even that was left only partially eaten before heading off to Potions.

During classes, Remus didn't seem to pay half as much attention as he usually did, doodling on his parchment and staring blankly into space. He was called out in class too many times to count, and the Marauders had to hiss him the answers before he ignored them altogether and shrugged in response the next time he was called out. The teachers didn't seem to get upset, though. They merely sighed before redirecting their onslaught of questions to the next unsuspecting student.

In Charms class, Peter had been hurriedly copying down Flitwick's lesson and unintentionally spilled his inkwell on Remus. With Remus' flippant attitude all day, Peter had expected the boy not to have noticed. But it must've been his favourite tie or something because Remus absolutely lost it at that.

The entire class learned a new lesson that day: Swear Words with Professor Lupin. The boy was cursing left to right, adding clever creativity and making up new ones along the way. Some students were jotting them down for themselves before Flitwick quickly excused Remus to change.

Sirius and James didn't miss the way Remus' eyes flashed so bright they were almost glowing when Peter had spilled the ink. They also took in the fact that he was sweating in November, his pallor face, and his shaking hands. Not to mention his sudden mood change just from dropping some ink he could've easily Scourgiy'ed away. Remus Lupin was definitely, absolutely, unquestionably indeed a –

"Stop stepping on my toes, Peter!" snapped Sirius.

"Get your elbow outta my ribs, James!"

"Maybe I could if Sirius would stop leaning on me!"

"Shut up, they're coming!"

The Marauders stood unnaturally still under James' invisibility cloak. They were waiting outside the Hospital Wing. Remus had informed him just a half-hour ago that he had to leave because his mum's illness took another dip, and he was needed at home. After wishing his mother well, the Marauders waited thirty seconds after Remus left before throwing the invisibility cloak over themselves and following the sandy haired boy to the infirmary.

The door crept open and Madame Pomfrey emerged, half-leading, half-carrying a very tired looking Remus Lupin. The Marauders shot each other worried looks before trailing behind.

They ceased their following once the Hogwart's matron opened the main doors to get outside. The second years positioned themselves in front of a nearby window, watching the nurse continue her journey from there. Madam Pomfrey led Remus to the Whomping Willow, a violent tree located on the grounds of Hogwarts.

The Marauders were confused. Why was she taking him there?

Their worries dissipated, however, when Madam Pomfrey waved her wand and the tree froze in its place. Hugging Remus once, she ushered him down a hole that was obscured from the Marauder's view and walked swiftly back to the school.

The second years didn't have to wait long before they heard a loud, painful howl pierce through the silent night.

Just one look confirmed they were thinking the same thing:

Remus Lupin was a werewolf.

"What are you guys doing up here? Transfiguration starts in a couple of minutes and you know how generous McGonagall is with her detentions."

Remus stood by the door with one hand on the door knob, his eyebrow raised, an amused look on his face. It was a week after the full moon, and Remus was back to his normal, sarcastic, bookwormish self.

Peter, James and Sirius were standing awkwardly around the room, having been caught mid-discussion. For the two hundredth time this week, they were speculating on how they were going to tell Remus they knew. Peter didn't want to say anything unless Remus brought it up, which was unlikely, to the say the least. Sirius, however, wanted them all to dress up as a werewolves and carry on as if nothing happened to silently demonstrate that they supported Remus.

And James? James just wanted it all to be done.

When no one responded, Remus shrugged. Walking around them to his desk, he picked up the textbook he had come upstairs to retrieve. "Suit yourself," he said, heading back to the door. "But just don't expect to copy my notes because I – "

"We know, Remus."

Those three words sent Remus' freezing over as if he had been cursed. His back became ramrod straight and his breathing stilled.

He turned around with a forced smile on his face. "Know what?"

"We know you're a werewolf."

"And where did you come up with that?" he asked, frost icing his words.

Sirius took over. "You go missing once a month – "

"I take care of my mother. She's very, very ill."

"Well, what about your grandmother?"

"What about her?"

"She died about two times last year," said Sirius. "And your uncle Steve got married to that girl, Cindy, like three times."

"They have marital problems," snapped Remus. "They're working it out."

"Well, how do you explain the scars and bruises on your body that you always have when you come back?" asked Peter.

Remus narrowed his eyes. "My cat gets very excitable whenever he sees me at home taking care of my sickly mother."

"We followed you last week, you know," said James, not missing the flash of fear that flickered across Remus' face, "under my invisibility cloak. We saw Madam Pomfrey help you through that tunnel in the Whomping Willow – which, by the way, you have got to show us – and we heard you howling."

"We also found this," Sirius held up Remus' calendar, "and, surprise, surprise, all the dates you've got circled is a full moon."

Remus blinked.

Then he smiled.

"Looks like you caught me," he said, shoving his way past Peter to his bed. "I thought I covered my tracks pretty well, too. But I suppose I shouldn't have underestimated you guys. I mean, who was I kidding?" Throwing open his wardrobe, he began chucking his clothes into his trunk.

"What are you doing?" Sirius asked.

Remus finished emptying his wardrobe and moved on to his bookshelf. "I'm packing up. Now that you guys know the truth, I can't stay here anymore. No one was ever supposed to find out."

Peter crossed the room and stepped in front of his trunk. "You can't leave!"

Remus gave him a sad smile. "I have to, Pete. I'm a werewolf. I'm too dangerous. I might kill you."

"Dumbledore wouldn't let a dangerous person in Hogwarts," said Peter. "You couldn't even hurt a fly, Rem! You're like one of the nicest guys I know!"

"I'm not a person, though. I'm a monster, an abomination – "

"Remus Lupin, you finish that sentence and the turtle gets it." James said, holding up Tootsie the Turtle, Remus' beloved stuffed animal, by the leg.

The werewolf's resolve crumbled then. He sank to the floor and began to cry. His friends quickly moved towards him and hugged him. They stayed like that for quite awhile; even long after Remus stopped crying, just huddled there, lapping in the comfortable silence.

"You can't leave us," said Sirius after a moment. "Who's going to help us with our homework?"

" – and feed us chocolate?"

" – and tell us off for being prats?"

" – and give us prank ideas?"

" – and be our friend?"

"We can't be the Marauders without all of us," said James firmly, "Peter, me, Sirius and you. Best mates for life, remember?"

Remus sniffed, his eyes glistening with tears. "You don't mind that I'm a werewolf?"

Sirius rolled his eyes. "Would we be sitting here if we didn't? All you have is a furry little problem, mate."

Remus raised an eyebrow at the name, but didn't comment, beaming instead. "You guys are absolutely mental."

Peter stood up, shocked. "Mental? Are you serious? Who told you? How did you find out?"

Laughing, James got up, as well. "We'll never make it to Transfiguration in time today, so let's say we celebrate Remus' staying by spraying the Slytherin's common room entrance with paint! I think I put it here somewhere..."

"Who said anything about staying?" said Remus, his face perfectly blank.

The three boys blinked in surprise.

"But – but -"

Remus laughed, clutching his sides and effectively breaking the tension. "You should've seen your faces! You guys are getting too easy." He was cut-off mid-snicker when his friends tried to tackle him and he took off down the stairs, the Marauders at his heels. The sound of their laughter filling the school.

A/N: Happy Halloween!

I haven't updated in like forever. I'm so sorry! *hexes school* I hope this one was good enough. It's the longest chapter yet! Anyway, how are all of you? Everything good? Any new books you love/wanna recommend? Talk to me!

Thanks to: Harry1675, shadowkat678, BELVISPRESLEY, Remus' daughter, Crystalline-Enchantix, Our Mismatched Socks and chaosshotgun for reviewing! Loved your wizarding jobs, especially the Muggle Worthy Excuse committee (i read it and i loved it! thanks for the suggestion!)

So...the Marauders figure out little Remus is a werewolf...O.O. YES! Finally done with this chapter. Did ya guys know that this was one of the first chapters i wrote for this story? It got deleted (silly computer) and every time i tried to rewrite it, it didn't sound as nice and I just scraped it. I'm finally sorta satisfied with it, and glad to have it off my hands!

Any ideas for the next chapter? Review to let me know!