Remus locked himself in his quarters for the rest of Saturday afternoon, preparing what he could for the tracking spell. It was old, but not too archaic, magic in three parts: a potion, a ritual, and an incantation. Contrary to the several lies he'd told Penny, it was sometimes utilized by the Aurors, and he was sure that Penny's blood would satisfy the ritual's requirements. That is, if he managed to brew the potion correctly. It would need twenty-four hours to simmer, which meant he had to focus on his brewing for the rest of the evening.

It was gone nine by the time Remus staggered out of his room, realizing he hadn't eaten since breakfast. Dinner would have ended in the Great Hall over an hour ago, which meant he would have to somehow convince Tippy to serve him dinner for one, no romance necessary.

Sure enough, as soon as the fruit bowl painting swung shut behind him, Tippy was barrelling towards him.

"Master Remus is wanting a basket for his lady friend?"

"No thanks, Tippy; I'll just eat here, if that's alright."

Tippy's already tennis ball-sized eyes grew even larger. "Master Remus is bringing his lady friend here? Tippy is meeting her?!"

Remus sighed heavily. "No, it's just me. I missed dinner."

Tippy's ears drooped, followed by her shoulders and, somehow, her entire body.

"I'm sorry Tippy; it's not personal. I'm not, er, meeting her tonight. I just missed dinner."

Tippy's lip wobbled. Remus panicked.

"But I'm so hungry I feel like I could eat a whole feast! All by myself!"

Tippy brightened slightly. "What does Master Remus wish for his feast?"

"Anything you like, Tippy. Surprise me."

Tippy gave him a tremulous smile and ran off in the direction of the cupboards. Remus settled down at a nearby table and pored over the Map while he waited. Fifteen utterly uneventful minutes later, Tippy appeared with a five course meal on four trays and Remus had to put the Map away to focus on fending off a dozen questions a minute about his mysterious lady friend.

...

With the tracking potion still lightly bubbling away in Remus' sole pewter cauldron, he spent Sunday morning preparing the rest of the location ritual. His thestral-blood candles needed to be exactly seven and a half inches in height, and tapered off into cones around the wick at 45-degree angles. He sorted through all of his atlases and encyclopaedias until he found a map of Scotland that was detailed enough to serve his purposes. Finally, the dragon-skull bowl had to be fully lined with a fine layer of mushed abyssian shrivelfig leaf.

Remus finished his preparations with a couple hours to go still until lunchtime. He desperately needed to catch up on his marking, especially for his fifth- and seventh-years, but the shack called out to him. With one last regretful glance at the waiting stack of papers, he shrank down the bags of supplies he'd bought in Knockturn, stuffed them in his pockets, and headed out.

As he meandered down to the kitchens, Remus wondered if it was more important to wait to come back until the evening, which was when he'd told Padfoot he'd be back, or whether Sirius would be glad he returned early bearing food. If he was being honest with himself (which he greatly preferred not to do), he was a little excited about the prospect of showing up to the shack early and catching Padfoot unawares again.

He was so absorbed in this dilemma that he didn't realize he was being spoken to until the third time someone called his name.

"Remus! What has gotten into you?"

Remus jerked out of his reverie and spun to face Poppy, who had had to place a hand on his shoulder for any of her words to be acknowledged.

"Poppy! I'm sorry, were you saying something?"

"Well I just saw you and figured I'd invite you for tea with Minerva, but it seems you're rather preoccupied at the moment."

"Oh. I'd love to, really, I'm just rather busy today…"

"No pressure, Remus. It's just, we worry about you, you know, especially with Sirius Black running about."

Remus did his best not to flinch at the implication. "I'm fine."

"Where are you heading anyway?" Poppy asked.

"Oh, I was just going to visit the house elves."

Poppy's eyebrows rose. "You visit the house elves?"

"Oh, you know me, I like to reach out to historically marginalized magical beings; it's rather personal for me. Besides, they've been very helpful with all the late nights I've been pulling recently."

Poppy's eyes flicked over him dubiously, then softened. "I hope you're not working yourself too hard, Remus."

"I promise, Poppy, I'm fine."

"I'm glad, really, but we would still love to see you. Maybe next week?"

"Yes, alright. Cheers."

"You take care of yourself now, Remus. And remember that if you ever can't, I can."

"Ta, Poppy."

Remus watched Poppy turn away, ascend the marble stairs of the entrance hall, and disappear from sight before he resumed his path to the kitchens.

After a quick argument with Tippy ("It's just lunch for me, I swear!" "Then why won't Master Remus eat it here with Tippy?" "... Alright, fine, it's for a friend. But no flowers!"), Remus was hurrying across the grounds towards the Willow, and then hurrying through the tunnel as best he could with his back slightly stooped. Sadly, Padfoot's bedroom was empty upon Remus' arrival; he deposited a small pile of secondhand clothes, a warm coat, two bottles of Mr. Skower's self-rinsing shampoo and body wash, a wooden hairbrush, a towel, and a self-pasting toothbrush alongside Tippy's basket of food.

Remus' thoughts turned to Prongs and Harry during the walk back. As anxious as he was to talk to Sirius, and to find Peter, he had to prioritize Team Potter's investigation. Remus reached the Entrance Hall and paused, indecisive, then made his way to the hospital wing. He opened the door to the infirmary and headed towards Poppy's personal office just as Poppy stepped out to see who had entered.

"Oh! Remus," Poppy exclaimed. She looked surprised to see him, but also strangely… nervous?

"'Lo," Remus said. "Are you still having tea with Minerva?" He didn't really have to ask, except out of politeness; he knew Minerva was in Poppy's office because he'd checked the Map for Peter not three minutes earlier, waiting for the staircase he was on to swivel back to his intended second-floor landing.

"Well, yes," Poppy shifted on her feet and looked back into her office at (presumably) Minerva. "Why don't you come in?"

Remus gave her an uncertain smile and followed Poppy into her office. Minerva was seated on a chair and pouring tea into a cup. She gestured to an empty chair across from her; Remus sank slowly down onto it and accepted the tea. Poppy pulled her chair over to sit next to Minerva. All of a sudden Remus felt like he was facing an interrogation.

"Er, how have you been?" he said.

"What were you doing in the shrieking shack?" Minerva asked.

Remus' heart shuddered even as the rest of his body went completely still. "Sorry?" he choked out.

"We saw you out the window," said Poppy, gesturing to an outer wall beyond her office. "Walking to the Whomping Willow with a basket."

Remus grimaced inwardly and cursed the setup of Hogwarts castle and grounds.

"I… I was just… But why... oh. You- you both think that had something to do with Sirius Black?"

Neither Poppy nor Minerva spoke, but their silence said enough. Remus wondered whether they would be suspicious enough to go to the shack themselves and check. The evidence was pretty damning, if somewhat confusing: food, clothes, hygiene products… and a dog bed.

"I found a stray dog!" Remus announced triumphantly. "I found him while walking around the forest looking for S- for Black."

"The forest!" gasped Poppy. "Remus, it's dangerous, even for you-"

Remus sighed heavily. "I'm a werewolf, Poppy. I am the dangerous beast lurking in the Forbidden Forest."

Poppy opened her mouth to protest again; Remus hurried to continue.

"So anyway, I was looking for Black and instead I found this dog. He looked like he was starving, and, I don't know, I felt bad. I realized the shack was nearby so I coaxed him there and transfigured him a dog bed. Since then I've been bringing him food from the kitchens and trying to earn his trust."

Remus, who had been staring at Poppy's ear throughout his story, risked a glance at her face. She still seemed skeptical; he didn't even want to see what Minerva's face looked like. Maybe if he played on their sympathies?

"The thing is, the wolf gets lonely, even with the Wolfsbane potion," Remus continued. "I keep my own mind during the Full but I still feel the wolf's instincts, and I can't do anything about the urge to hunt but he also wants a pack. So I found this lonely giant dog in the woods and I thought, maybe he could be my pack."

Poppy looked notably more sympathetic. Remus was still too cowardly to look at Minerva. He wondered if making them feel sorry for him would only heighten the betrayal when they found out he was, indeed, bringing food and supplies to Sirius Black. The guilt that had been nibbling on his insides since he left Penny's cottage started gnawing at him more ferociously.

But he had a killer rat to catch and a name to clear, and then a nephew to rehome. He couldn't reveal his cards and he needed his story to be convincing and consistent with whatever evidence they may find if they went to the shack to try to verify his story.

"So I figured, with the Wolfsbane, it's not like I'm in danger of hurting the dog. Might as well give it a try, right? So I've been stocking up the shrieking shack for the full. I figure I'll camp out there to see if the company helps- as long as I don't scare him away during the transformation, that is."

Remus chanced a look at Minerva. She still seemed skeptical.

"Why did you lie to Poppy?"

Remus blinked. Suddenly he couldn't keep track of all of his lies. "Sorry? What…?"

"You told me you were just visiting the house elves this morning," Poppy explained.

Remus had a sudden horrible image of Poppy and Minerva interviewing the kitchen eves and Tippy waxing poetic about Remus' mysterious lady friend. He wondered if Tippy liked him enough to keep his secret; technically she wasn't beholden to anyone but Dumbledore.

"I mean, it all sounds a bit silly, doesn't it?" Remus said. Neither of the women across from him responded. "I keep my own mind on Wolfsbane but I'm still lonely enough for a pack that I took in a stray from the Forbidden Forest and have been sneaking food from the kitchens into the Shrieking Shack for him?"

"It does sound rather far-fetched," said Minerva. Remus did not miss the hint of accusation in her tone.

"Well, don't take my word for it," said Remus, feigning a nonchalance he certainly did not feel. "You're welcome to check out the shack for yourselves. The dog comes and goes, though, and I can't guarantee you won't scare him off."

Minerva and Poppy glanced at each other with a look that said they were already planning on it. Remus' stomach churned; his neck suddenly felt very hot. He forced himself to remain still. But Remus was once a Marauder, always a Marauder, and he had talked himself out of several situations in which he had been even more obviously guilty than this. He knew when to lie, when to cave, and, most importantly, when to distract.

"I really don't mind you following up on the dog thing, Minerva, but I actually did come here to ask you something. I think the two of us should talk to Ron and Hermione soon; do you have some time on Monday?"

Minerva's face finally softened as she thought about Harry. Internally, Moony the Marauder grinned.

"Yes, I do think we should do that as soon as possible. I don't know how to get them apart from Potter… unless you can meet after dinner, while he's at quidditch practice?"

"Er, yes, that's fine," said Remus. "Thank you for helping me, well, spare Harry from the stress of this investigation."

Minerva sniffed. "He's been through enough."

Remus took his leave while she was still thinking about Harry and fled to his quarters, his mind spinning. Minerva and Poppy were onto him. They were going to check out the shack and find Sirius there, or they would realize the dog story was suspicious, or Minerva would surely recognize a fellow animagus, or- Merlin forbid they would share their concerns with Severus, who would never give Remus a moment alone for the rest of term, or, OR, oh bollocks, his hand would... just... slip over Remus' morning pumpkin juice and Severus would have him confessing buying back Sirius' own wand to arm him in his quest for vengeance, not to mention Remus' plan to help Sirius take custody of Harry sodding Potter!

There was nothing to it; Remus could never return to the shack. He'd have to keep his nose clean until he found Peter… unless a change in the routine he just clearly outlined to Poppy and Minerva would look even more suspicious in its cessation than its continuation… But that small undertone of accusation never left Minerva until he started talking about Harry; she still doubted him; she would be keeping a close eye on the shack; how was Remus supposed to communicate with a dog who was also an escaped convict who was also Remus' best chance to save Harry from his relatives, and-

Oh no.

What if Minerva called Ron and Hermione in to talk tomorrow and they mentioned that Peter framed Sirius, because Remus had no doubt that Harry, like James, told his best friends everything… Surely they knew better than to just casually mention that Remus was in on some truly mad-sounding conspiracy to the Deputy Headmistress… Unless they thought that Remus' presence at the interview signalled that he had come clean to Minerva...?

Bollocks. He had to find a way to warn off Ron and Hermione without arousing suspicion. Well, marching directly into the Gryffindor common room was out of the question, then. He didn't have class with them until Tuesday… But surely Hermione could often be found alone in the library? He'd keep an eye on her with the Map and track her down, surreptitiously, as soon as she left the common room.

As for Padfoot… He'd just have to keep up appearances as best he could, warn Sirius away from the Shack as soon as possible, and find Wormtail as soon as possible, for the love of all things, well, Harry.

Remus finally pulled himself out of a spiralling panic attack to find himself well into the afternoon. After a calming cup of strong tea, he set about finishing his potion for the tracking spell, devising lesson plans for the rest of the week, catching up on some of his daunting piles of marking, and checking the Map constantly for both Wormtail and Hermione.

...

Neither Hermione nor Ron left the common room all day, except for a very public trip down to the Great Hall and back for dinner. Remus was frankly surprised not to find Hermione in the library, but if he remembered the layout of Gryffindor tower correctly, her, Ron's, and Harry's dots were huddled around the prime cushy armchairs in front of the common room fire, which would be a much more comfortable place to do homework than any of the library tables. Remus would have been impressed at the third years' ability to get such good seating if he wasn't more immediately preoccupied with saving his own damn skin in front of Minerva.

By the time Remus removed his finished potion from the heat and soaked his map of Scotland in it, and gave up on both his marking and his observation of the Map, he was just about ready to give up on everything else, too. He spent several restless hours in bed unsuccessfully chasing sleep and trying to convince himself that Hermione was too smart a fourteen year-old to go blabbing about traitor rats back from the dead and innocent escaped convicts without prompting. Right?

...

Remus was awake a painfully few short hours later to conduct the tracking ritual; it had to be completed at dawn, for enlightenment. The potion had congealed slightly overnight in the smoke of the Arabian nettle incense, and he used it to draw a syrupy diagram surrounded by runes on a portion of his cleaned wooden desktop. Then he removed the map of Scotland from the line he'd hung it over to dry and placed it squarely in the center of the diagram, facing east. He arranged his three thestral-blood candles in an equilateral triangle around the map, corresponding with every other point of a six-pointed star drawn in sticky silver potion. Finally, as the first curve of the sun peeked over the mountaintops in the distance outside his window, Remus held his dragon-skull bowl squarely above the map and poured Penny's blood into it, murmuring a long, melodic incantation.

The blood shimmered where it absorbed the abyssian shrivelfig leaf, then started slowly leaking out the eye sockets of the dragon skull. Remus watched droplets of blood drip onto the map… and then disappear.

He frowned to himself even as he kept up the incantation. If the ritual worked correctly, the blood should congregate around Peter's location, then move as he moved. If it disappeared, well…

Remus could think of three main explanations. One, Peter was dead (but Remus refused to let himself believe that for a third time). Two, Peter's blood was unrecognizable in rat form- but Remus had done as much research on animagi as he could in preparation for this moment, and as far as he knew, Wormtail's blood was still fundamentally Peter's.

That left the third possibility: Peter was in an unplottable location. Remus sighed; Hogwarts was unplottable. Most likely, Peter was located somewhere technically on Hogwarts grounds but too far from the castle to be marked on the Marauder's Map. In other words, unless Wormtail had become an exceptionally strong swimmer, Peter was somewhere in the Forbidden Forest.

Well, Remus had known the ritual was a long shot when he'd planned it, but those twelve galleons he'd spent on the knife still stung. Bother.

Remus shot a guilty look at the stack of parchments on his desk, awaiting his attention, and walked out of the castle instead. He spent over an hour fighting frustratedly through the undergrowth of the less-travelled bits of the Forest, but found neither hide nor tail of any rats at all. He left himself barely enough time to get back to his classroom before his first lesson of the day, trying not to glance too hungrily at the emptying Great Hall as he passed it.

The short breaks between Remus' Monday morning classes were spent scanning the Marauder's Map frantically. It wasn't until his lunch break that he had time to remember his commitment to Minerva and last night's failure to capture Hermione or Ron alone. Of course the one time he needed Hermione to go to the library, she didn't. Even in the cold light of midday, and 24 hours removed from his panic attack, the tight twist of anxiety remained firmly rooted in his gut. He watched Ron and Hermione eating lunch with Harry and debated walking right up to them, or waiting to snag a sleeve as they walked through the entrance hall- but if Minerva, Poppy, or Severus caught him at it, he was done for.

As Remus watched his fifth years file into class, the anxiety lifted in a rush of elation, paused, and then wormed its way back into his intestines, slightly looser than before but still ominously present.

"Fred, George," Remus called when the achingly long lesson finally concluded, "A word?"

The twins raised their eyebrows in unison but stayed behind, lounging indolently on top of their desks as the rest of their classmates filed out. Remus took advantage of their leisure to write a hurried note on a scrap of paper.

"At your service, Professor Moony Lupin sir," said Fred, when they had finally made their way to the front of the classroom.

"I thought I told you not to call me that," Remus sighed.

"I reckon special rules apply for Marauders, though," mused George.

"You're not Marauders," Remus deadpanned.

"Not yet," Fred declared.

"I'd say we're... apprenticing," said George.

"You could even say we're proteges," suggested Fred.

"Aspirants, at the very least," added George.

"Are you done?" asked Remus, serving them both his best nonplussed glare.

"Never," the twins said in unison.

Remus rubbed his temples. He sucked in a deep breath, hating what he was about to say.

"I need your help."

Fred and George stretched their cheeks into matching cheshire cat grins.

"Well that's interesting," said Fred.

"Very interesting," George agreed.

"We're not opposed, per se, to providing aid to one of the legendary Marauders," mused Fred.

"Even if he is a professor," added George.

"But it does make a bloke wonder," said Fred.

"What's in it for us?" finished George.

Remus hummed noncommittally. "If you really were my apprentices, you would just have to do what I say, no questions asked."

"Ah, but in return, you would be teaching us the tricks of the trade," Fred grinned.

Remus narrowed his eyes at them. "What do you want?"

"Tricks of the trade," George said simply, belied by the unholy stretch of his smile.

"I really can't consult on any of your joke products until the end of term," Remus said tiredly.

"Oh, I'm sure there is other knowledge you're able to impart," Fred prompted.

"Out with it," Remus demanded. "What do you want to know?"

"The charms you used on the map," George answered.

"Especially, but not limited to, how you and Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs enchanted it to talk like you."

"How d'you know it does that?" Remus asked, curious in spite of himself.

"Well, we didn't just guess the password on our first try, now did we?" said George.

"Although Mr. Moony did congratulate us on the speed with which we solemnly swore our up-to-no-good-ness," Fred bragged.

Remus sighed. "What are you going to use the charms for?"

"Oh, nothing more nefarious than what you've used it for," grinned George.

"Guess you'll have to wait 'til June to find out, though," Fred said with a wink.

Remus crossed his arms and stared at the twins, assessing. They stared at him right back. Finally, Remus picked up the folded piece of parchment on which he'd written his note.

"I will teach you all the spells we used on the Map," he acquiesced, "if you deliver this note to Ron any time before the end of dinner tonight."

Fred reached out for the parchment but Remus pulled his hand back. "You must not be seen by any other professors, nor, preferably, by Harry either. You will not reveal to anyone else the contents of this note. Do you understand?"

The twins both looked extremely skeptical, but nodded.

"Good. The life of a Marauder hangs in the balance. If you manage to do so, I will meet you here tomorrow after dinner."

"Yes sir, Mr. Moony your highness," said Fred.

"Give it over, then," urged George.

Remus reluctantly relinquished the parchment. Fred immediately opened it, leaning to the right slightly to let George read it too.

"Ron, none of the other professors have heard news of Wormtail since 1981, nor of Padfoot's true actions. I ask you and Hermione to please help me keep it that way. -Moony," Fred read aloud.

"This is extremely suspicious, mate," George observed.

Fred snorted. "Even for a Marauder."

"I know," Remus sighed. "I only hope it will all make sense soon enough." The twins were still eyeing him with unmasked intrigue. "I'm not explaining this to you yet," he said firmly. "Deliver the note today or you'll not hear another word out of me about the making of the Map ever again."

"Aye, Aye," Fred smirked. George offered Remus a jaunty salute. They were both out the door before Remus realized he'd let a student call him mate.