"Do you know what today is?" announced James.

Remus, whose head was firmly under his pillow, groaned. "It's not day at all. It's the middle of the night. James, it is five am."

"Which is morning," said James with a dismissive wave of his hand. "Besides, there are some things that we need to work out. Do you know what day it is?"

Peter had never been a morning person, but he couldn't stand being asleep while James and Sirius were awake. Sirius and James were already dressed, and Peter was currently untangling himself from the covers. "Hogsmeade!" he said eagerly.

"Yes!" exclaimed James. "Today is Saturday, thus it is Hogsmeade Day! Now, Marauders, what is the problem with Hogsmeade Day?"

"I'm not invited," said Sirius. He hopped over to Remus' bed and started mercilessly tapping on Remus' head. Remus groaned again.

"Precisely, my friend. So now we're going to draw up a plan to get Sirius inside of Hogsmeade. We shall call it… hm… any ideas?"

"Operation Get Sirius Into Hogsmeade," suggested Peter.

"No, too obvious. We don't want the teachers to overhear us and know what we're trying to do."

"How about just Operation Get Sirius?" mumbled Remus, trying to swat away Sirius' relentless tapping finger.

"Nah. Get up, Remus."

"We're trying not to be obvious, right?" said Sirius. "So what about Operation We're Definitely Not Sneaking Sirius Into Hogsmeade?"

"Perfect!" said James.

Remus sat up in bed. "Are you really that stupid?" he asked, and James gave him a triumphant smile.

"No, we're not stupid. After all, we just got you to wake up properly. Besides, I think it's hilarious. Hiding in plain sight. The teachers will never know."

"My thoughts exactly," said Sirius.

Remus burrowed back under his covers.

"Wake up, Remus!"

"I'm tired, James!"

Suddenly, there was silence. Remus opened one eye and peeked at James, who was suddenly staring at Remus with rapt attention. "This Wednesday is a full moon," said James, still staring at Remus.

Oh, no. "I know that."

"Are you really tired? Are you feeling ill? I know you get a bit ill this soon before it happens, and I don't want to wake you up at five am if you're genuinely feeling ill. You can go back to sleep if you want. I'll wake you up before breakfast. We really don't mind if you need to sleep, mate… we know you're going to be losing a lot of sleep this week, and..."

Remus sat up again, completely exasperated. "No, James, I'm fine. Honestly. Why can't I just complain in peace?" He rolled his eyes dramatically before pulling on his socks. "I appreciate your concern, I really do, but you're not the matron. Trust me, I have enough people worried about my physical health. Besides… I'm going to make up all the sleep I miss on Wednesday night in the Hospital Wing, aren't I?"

"S'pose," said James. "Just wanted to make sure. Are you certain that you're…?"

"Yes! I'm certain. Merlin's beard." Remus finished his socks and started changing out of his pajamas. "I'm not fragile, James."

James frowned. "It's not fragile to want to stay in bed for another couple hours when you're feeling poorly. Come on, Sirius, Peter—we'll let him sleep, and then we'll be right back up to wake him up for breakfast—"

"I'm already up!" said Remus, exasperated. "If I wanted someone to cluck over me, James, I'd go to the Hospital Wing. Madam Pomfrey's always happy to do it. I do not—want—pity!"

James held up his hands. "Fine, fine! Calm down, mate. You know, you've been pretty constantly angry with me lately."

"You've been pretty constantly annoying lately," retorted Remus, but he felt sort of bad, looking back. James had been right: he had been more snappish with him over the past couple of weeks. James was only trying to help, Remus knew—but Remus was so, so tired of special treatment, and James was so incredibly smothering. He always seemed to want to fix everything—Remus' loneliness, the prejudice, Remus' health—and there were some things that could not be fixed.

It was in James Potter's nature to be frighteningly helpful and loyal to his friends, and that wasn't a bad thing. But the mixture of helpfulness and an utter disregard for the rules made James a very dangerous companion, especially in Craff's class. Now he was treating Remus like a china doll, which was ridiculous; after all, Remus was a werewolf. He could handle waking up early. Heck, he could handle a killing curse on the full moon.

"I've always been annoying," said James proudly, and Sirius snorted in agreement. "No, Moony, I think you're just getting more comfortable around us, right? You never acted like this in first year, but I saw you get annoyed with your mum last Christmas. You only get all complain-y around people whom you're comfortable with. So it's a good thing that you're snappish!"

"Sure," grumbled Remus. "Doesn't mean I don't want you to stop being annoying."

"If you're sure," said James. "Now onward, Marauders!"

"What's the plan?" said Peter.

"Oh, we're just going to scope out the castle for a bit. Get a feel for the route we want to take. And plan!" He threw his arms out excitedly. "We're going to come up with a very long plan to get Sirius inside of Hogsmeade without anyone knowing! It'll be grand!"

"Are we going to use the one-eyed witch statue that we found in first year?" asked Remus.

"Unless you know any other routes to Hogsmeade. Wait—you do! Peter told us that you go in a tunnel underneath the Whomping Willow to transform in that place near Hogsmeade! We could use that, too!"

"WHAT?!" Remus whipped around to face Peter, who was looking very guilty. "You told them? Peter, I told you not to!"

"But they were… I mean… I forgot I wasn't supposed to," stammered Peter.

"Peter! How could you forget?"

"Why were you keeping secrets from us, Remus?" asked Sirius, crossing his arms.

"Because you'd go looking for me and then I'd kill you, Sirius! Forgive me, but those don't seem like pleasant pastimes for either of us."

"Woah!" said James. "Calm down, Moony. I've never seen you this angry. Wake up on the wrong side of the bed or something?"

Remus stood up very suddenly, and Peter flinched; at Peter's fear, Remus suddenly felt very remorseful. The anger was still present, though, and it wasn't even at a particular person—not James and his smothering pity—not Peter and his inability to respect Remus' wishes—and not Sirius and his disregard for Remus' problems—no, it was just anger, and it was not the type of emotion that Remus wanted to feel right now. "Going to the loo," he mumbled, and then he walked to the lavatory very, very quickly.

He shut the door behind him—he tried not to slam it, but it was pretty close—and then he sat on the floor and drew his knees up to his chin. He could hear his friends talking in the other room.

"You think he's angry with me?" said Peter.

"Of course he's angry with you, you daft koala," said Sirius.

"Oh," said Peter.

Remus felt terrible. "I'm not angry with anyone," he called. "I just need a minute. Honest. Only one minute."

And there he sat, balancing his chin on the tops of his knees, breathing in through his nose and out through his mouth. He stood up and let the water run in the sink for a few moments, watching the water flow around the bowl soothingly, and then he stuck his hands under it and focused on the feeling of water on his thumbs and palms. He splashed a bit on his face and toweled off before taking one last breath and walking back into the dormitory.

"Are you done being weird?" asked Sirius.

"Yes, I'm done being weird."

"Good," said Sirius. "Merlin's beard, Remus. The rest of us can wake up normally. I don't know what's gotten into you today. Stop being dramatic."

Remus nodded and looked at the floor. "Gonna get my gloves," he muttered. Sirius watched impatiently as Remus pulled the over his fingers, and then James threw the Invisibility Cloak over the four of them and they traveled throughout the castle, avoiding Filch, Mrs. Norris, and the myriad portraits.

And after a few hours of braving the darkened castle with his friends, watching James excitedly scribble down escape routes, bantering with Sirius, sharing knowing looks shared with Peter, and enduring James' meticulous planning in the dormitory, Remus was feeling like his old self again.

The Marauders still had extra time before Hogsmeade after finishing breakfast, even with the delay that Sirius had caused when he'd tried to pour pumpkin juice in his ear and got told off by Slughorn (who was definitely not inviting any of them back to the Slug Club this year, either). "If Sirius Black had only been a Slytherin," Remus heard him bemoaning to the other teachers. "He'd be so much more mature; I'm certain of it." Remus, however, wasn't so sure.

"Okay," said James once they had finished breakfast (well, three of them had finished—Remus was still trying to feed Francine, who was trying in vain to skitter out of her container). "Let's go over our notes one more time for Operation We're Definitely Not Sneaking Sirius Into Hogsmeade."

Alas: James was good at a great many things, but speaking with an inside voice was not one of them. "What?" said Puttle, the Gryffindor Prefect, incredulously. He'd seemed to engrossed in his bacon to pay any attention to the Marauders' discussion, but James' voice had been a bit too loud. Remus winced as Puttle continued his tirade. "You're trying to sneak Black into Hogsmeade? That's not allowed, Potter!"

"No," said James patiently. "Look, I know you didn't get into NEWT-levels for four of your classes, Ray, but I expect you to have more basic comprehension than that. I said 'Operation We're Definitely Not Sneaking Sirius Into Hogsmeade'. Thus, we are definitely not trying to sneak him into Hogsmeade. Basic logic, really."

"You're very clearly being sarcastic!" spluttered Puttle: the fact that he had missed four NEWTs was clearly a sore subject. Remus didn't plan on asking James how he knew that. "Look, you four are loud and annoying year-round. Do you know how many times I've had to come up to your dormitory and tell you to be quiet? Too many! This is my last year at Hogwarts, and I don't want to have to spend it following around three third-years intent on breaking the rules! So do not step out of line, you hear me?" He stood up and strode out of the Great Hall.

"There seems to be a bee in his bonnet," said James, and Peter laughed.

Suddenly, Puttle ran back into the Great Hall. "There are bees in the corridor!" he yelled.

Absolute pandemonium broke out amongst all four Houses. "Silence!" said Dumbledore. "Bees are overall very harmless creatures. Please stay seated and calm. I shall relocate the bees to the Dark Forest."

Remus looked over at James, who was laughing. "Apemuto," said James proudly. "I turned the Slytherin banner hanging over the bench into a bunch of bees. The reaction was a little more delayed than I would've liked, but this is even better."

Remus silently disapproved of this—after all, some people were highly allergic to bee stings—but he just laughed along with his friends. What else was he to do? It wasn't as if he could stop them, and he'd learned this morning that he didn't particularly like the feeling of needlessly telling off his best friends.

McGonagall stared James down like she was trying to see directly through him.

"Where's your friend, Potter?" she asked.

James blinked his eyes innocently. "Right there," he said, pointing towards Remus.

"You know who I mean. Black."

"He didn't get a permission form from his family, so he's back in the dormitory, I suppose. After all, going to Hogsmeade without a permission slip is against the rules, and Sirius and I always follow the rules."

McGonagall blinked and peered over James' shoulder, evidently looking for a Disillusioned Sirius. "Right, of course," she said slowly. James grinned and handed her his permission slip; Peter followed, and then Remus. "All seems to be in order," said McGonagall. "Lupin, if I may have a word?"

"Yeah," said Remus. "You two can go on—I'll catch up."

The Marauders had arrived ridiculously late (which may have been part of the reason that McGonagall had been so suspicious; most third-years were so excited to go to Hogsmeade that they jumped at the opportunity the first chance they got. Sirius, however, had held the four of them up after somehow accidentally locking himself in the lavatory with all four of their wands. Remus was currently trying not to think about the situation).

Since the Marauders had arrived so late, there was nobody in line behind them, and Remus and McGonagall had absolute privacy. "I haven't yet had a chance to say," said McGonagall softly, even though no one was around, "but I'm so sorry about what happened last summer."

Oh, not this again. Remus was getting extremely tired of people asking about that. It wasn't as if there was anything that anybody could do, short of getting one of those fabled Time-Turners (Remus didn't even think those existed) and stopping the fire before it happened. "I'm fine," he said sunnily, "but thanks for asking."

She looked at him, evidently searching for something in Remus' eyes (but Remus didn't know what). "I didn't ask," she said, and Remus nearly toppled right over out of surprise.

Questus had said that directly after Remus' third full moon at Hogwarts. Did she know that? Had that been on purpose?

"It's not that I don't care," she clarified, and Remus figured that she didn't know, because Questus never would have said that. "But I know you don't want nor need my help. You have a wonderful network of support." She granted him a rare smile. "I just wanted to let you know that I'm very sorry, though I know my sorrow about the situation won't help whatsoever."

"Okay," said Remus. He glanced towards his friends. "May I…?"

"Yes, of course. Enjoy Hogsmeade."

Remus scampered off. He was thankful, he really was, but he was also sick of sympathy. Wasn't he always?

Remus had been to Hogsmeade before, of course, but it was so different surrounded by his friends. They were all wearing the matching Marauder jumpers that James had bought for them, and Remus was wearing the scarf that his father had made for him. "It's not that cold," said James. "And that scarf is ugly."

Remus shrugged, smiled, and tightened the scarf around his neck. It still smelt of home. "I can use it to cover up Francine's container a bit, though," he said. "It's a bit embarrassing to bring a Bowtruckle into Hogsmeade."

Hogsmeade was bustling with excited students, but the Marauders had no time to be swept up in the hubbub. They were on a mission.

James babbled about the plan the entire way there, even though it wasn't much of a plan. "So we're going inside of Hogsmeade and looking at the sweets, right? And as soon as the way is clear, I say very loudly, 'Remus, did you try the Tooth-Flossing Stringmints'?"

"Right," said Remus, rolling his eyes, "like that's not suspicious at all."

"It's not. You're just the type of person who'd like Tooth-Flossing Stringmints."

"Oi!"

"Then Sirius will emerge from the secret passageway. He'll be under the Invisibility Cloak. And you'll tell us when he's right next to us, okay, Remus? You and your superwolf senses that can smell people under Invisibility Cloaks…."

"Shh," said Remus. "There are too many people around. We know the plan, James."

"Great. Then we walk out of Honeydukes and meet up somewhere near the Shrieking Shack, all right? And it's your job to tell us if Sirius isn't next to us anymore, okay, Remus?"

"Okay. Yes. I know."

"And then we can talk freely there if no one's around. Then we're going to…"

"Zonko's. Yes, James."

Remus nearly bumped into a wizard carrying a large box. The wizard turned to Remus and gave him a nasty look. "Watch it, sprog," the man said.

Remus' cheeks turned bright red. "Yeah, sorry… erm."

"You boys look a tad suspicious," said the man. "Ain't up to any trouble, are you?"

"None at all," said James. "We're well-behaved angels. Just ask Minerva McGonagall."

The man snorted. "Troublemakers, then," he said. "Careful out here. Don't be runnin' off. Dark wizards blew up a town just like this one not too long ago. Heard about that?"

Remus froze, an ocean filling his ears. A town just like this one? He supposed they'd been slightly similar. Hogsmeade was bigger, wealthier, and more well-put-together, but it was a town all the same, with people and adults and children and…

Remus felt something touch him, and he jerked away instinctively—but it was only Peter trying to take Remus' hand. Remus gave Peter an apologetic glance, nodded, and took his hand in his… the ocean was receding now, and Remus could hear James talking at the man angrily. "…talk about what you don't understand!" James finished, waggling his finger.

"James, leave it," said Remus. "I mean it."

James glared at the man one last time before stomping off. Remus and Peter had no choice but to follow him.

"Don't get angry with me, Moony," said James. "Seriously. He was out of line, and he deserved it. He doesn't know a thing about the attack."

Remus didn't understand James at all sometimes. "He didn't say anything at all! He only asked us to be careful, and he has no way of knowing that it's a bit of a sensitive subject for me. Besides, Professor Questus always told me that talking about sensitive subjects was a good thing."

"Yeah, but…" James sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "I want to fix things for you."

"And I appreciate the sentiment, but you can't fix everything."

"I think I can," said James quietly. "Someday. But it doesn't matter. Look, there's Honeydukes!"

A child ran past Remus with a skipping rope, and Remus watched him run away, shrieking, as his mother chased him. She scooped him up in her arms and tousled his hair, and the child was grinning ear-to-ear as she did so. Now that the man had brought up the town, Remus couldn't stop thinking about it, and this little boy reminded Remus of the boy from his memories who had once lived in that town. He also reminded Remus of himself, sort of—the boy seemed to be around the age that Remus was when he'd been bitten, and Remus had looked sort of like that beforehand, judging by the myriad photographs that his father had taken.

This boy was going to grow up in a world full of war and hatred… if he even got to grow up. Children that age died all the time, or got ill, or got kidnapped, or got bitten by werewolves. It was unfair.

"Everything all right, Moony?" said Peter.

Remus looked up. He'd been standing in the same position for what must have been a very long time, and he hadn't even noticed. The boy and his mother were both gone now, and James was staring at Remus worriedly.

"I'm fine," he said. "Just thinking. I'm fighting, you know. As soon as I leave school."

"Of course," said James. He reached out and squeezed Remus' shoulder—the right one. It was such a small thing that James knew exactly which one of Remus' shoulders was off-limits, but it made Remus feel so incredibly wonderful. "We've talked about this, remember? Vigilante Marauders and all that: saving the world one Death Eater at a time!"

"You know what Professor Questus used to say?" said Remus amicably as they walked into Honeydukes. "He used to say that the Dark Arts waited for no one, but I think that they should. Children die from this war, and it's not fair at all, because they're not involved. The town was full of civilians, and none of them had signed up for this." Remus crossed his arms, not even caring that he was rambling. "Everyone deserves a childhood, and any side of the war that doesn't think so should be defeated as soon as possible."

"Hear, hear," said James. He cast a furtive glance over his shoulder and then shouted at the top of his lungs, "REMUS! REMUS JOHN LUPIN! HAVE YOU TRIED THE TOOTH-FLOSSING STRINGMINTS? THEY LOOK GOOD, DON'T THEY!"

Remus buried his face in his hands as all eyes in the shop turned towards the Marauders. "Way to be subtle, Prongs," he hissed.

"Subtle is my middle name."

"I thought Salazar was your middle name."

"It's not! I'll never tell you my middle name, but it's not Salazar."

"Oh, that narrows it down." Sirius was standing behind Remus now. "Time to go, I think," said Remus conversationally, and the four Marauders, now reunited, ran out of Honeydukes before anyone could ask Remus why James thought he might like Tooth-Flossing Stringmints.

Sirius didn't slip the Cloak off until they were in a clearing a ways away from the Shrieking Shack. "That was so much fun," he chortled. "You were excellent, Prongs."

"Aren't I always?"

"No," said Remus.

"No one asked for your opinion, Loopy. And now all four of us are in Hogsmeade! Isn't it brilliant?"

Remus tried to tear his eyes away from the Shrieking Shack, but he found that he couldn't quite do it. He and the Marauders had been to Hogsmeade before, of course—they'd been a couple of times in their first year, back when they'd first discovered the passage through the one-eyed witch. After Dumbledore's brother had seen them gallivanting around in the dead of night, though, they'd stopped. But one time they'd come out here nearly all night for a stakeout in this exact place—James had thought that the Shrieking Shack housed a werewolf, and Remus wanted to prove that it did not—so he'd given them the wrong date of the full moon and they had watched the house all night. Remus had fainted, which had been very embarrassing. It was a long story.

Seeing the Shack from a distance was always so different from actually being inside it. The exterior looked even more rickety and dangerous, if possible, than the interior, and Remus could hardly imagine that the small house in the distance was the torture chamber that kept him restrained when he was at his worst.

"Feeling melancholy?" said Sirius right next to Remus' ear.

Remus jumped. "Sorry, just thinking."

"You think too much. Did you hear what James just said?"

"Er… no. Sorry."

"That's the second time you've spaced out on us today," said James, but he was laughing. "I want to flesh out that secret Marauder handshake of ours. And no right-handed bias this time, okay?"

Remus cast one last glance at the Shrieking Shack before forcing himself to stop thinking of full moons, werewolves, and bias that pertained to much less lighthearted things than handedness.

He didn't need to think about any of those things, anyway. Turned out his friends liked him despite bias and werewolves. It was weird, but Remus was thankful.

Contrary to popular belief: Remus, even as a werewolf, could not smell emotions. He could smell sweat. He could hear heart rates. He could hear breathing patterns constantly (Remus' world was constantly drenched in breathing and heartbeats). He could guess, therefore, when someone was emotional, but he could not smell emotions.

Werewolf or no, though, Sirius and James' excitement as they toured Zonko's was downright palpable.

"I've been here loads with my parents," said James. "But they always told me not to touch. And that's the whole point of shopping! I wanna touch!" He took a Dungbomb in his hands and weighed it carefully. "See, this is a good one. I'm getting it. Also that Fanged Frisbee… we can have loads of fun with that."

"You'd know all about fangs, wouldn't you, Remus?" said Sirius. He was under the Invisibility Cloak, but he was still as bright and annoying a presence as ever.

Remus rolled his eyes. "Shut it, you."

"But!" said James, pulling Sirius and Remus out of Zonko's (whilst Peter eagerly followed like a lost puppy). "Do you know what I'm even more excited about?"

"No," groaned Sirius. "I mean, yes, but no. Not there. Please don't drag us there, mate. Anywhere but there…."

Two minutes later, they were in the broomstick shop, watching James, starry-eyed, gawking at broomsticks.

"That one's a Silver Arrow, like the one I've got at home. There's a Comet right there. And that… that broomstick is what I'm forcing my parents to buy me for my birthday. It's super expensive. You see it right there? Notice anything special about it?"

Remus didn't, but James was staring at him with such fervent expectancy that he felt he had to answer. "It smells of pine," he said slowly. "None of the other school brooms are pine."

"That's part of it!" said James.

"The tail bristle things are a bit messier," said Peter.

"Bingo, Wormtail! It adds individuality! And each one is charmed!"

"I got it!" said Sirius. "The broomstick looks just like you, Prongs! It's all skinny and ugly and has messy hair-bristle-things! Is that what's so special about it?"

"No," said James emphatically, rolling his eyes. "That right there is a Stormslinger. It's the best broomstick there is. Do you see the handle? Best grip possible. And the streamlined base… and the…."

Remus watched James make doe eyes at the broomstick for thirty minutes before James settled for getting new broomstick polish and gloves and accompanying his friends to the Three Broomsticks. "You and Remus match now," said Peter, pointing to James' black racing gloves that he was already wearing. They were significantly thicker than Remus' thin gloves, but the color was the same.

"Yeah!" said James. "Cool! I'm gonna wear them into the Three Broomsticks."

Madam Rosmerta didn't question the fact that the Marauders (apparently three) were sitting in a table for four and would not let her take the "empty" chair to a table that needed it. She also didn't question the fact that they'd ordered four Butterbeers. She did, however, give James a very emphatic "no" when he asked for a Firewhiskey.

"Aw, but I'm so mature, Rosmerta," argued James.

"I beg to differ," said Remus, and James threw a napkin at him.

They returned to the dormitory that afternoon with bags of things that James had bought at Zonko's, the broomstick shop, and Honeydukes. Remus was so tired that he fell asleep before dinner. "If Madam Pomfrey asks where I am then just tell her that I'll eat later," he mumbled as his friends left the dormitory, knowing that Madam Pomfrey would not be happy if he skipped another meal.

Remus woke up at one am to the smells of vegetables, sandwiches, and soup. "Raided the Kitchens," James whispered. He was awake, but he seemed to be the only one. "Poppy threatened to kill us if we let you skip a meal. We said we'd get you to eat when you woke up. She's happy you're sleeping, though."

Remus groaned. "I can survive a skipped meal," he said, "but thank you anyway."

James wrinkled his nose. "I don't want to be killed by Poppy. She's terrifying. Eat. I got myself some food, too. Here, we can work on the Arithmancy homework while we're eating."

"You hate doing your homework."

"I'm taking all the electives, Moony, and I'll never hear the end of it if I fail one. Sirius already bet me I couldn't make it through without failing."

"Ah. So it's just to prove Sirius wrong."

"Exactly. My life is built on spite."

"I do not doubt it."

They went down to the common room, shushing each other, laughing, and carrying plates of food. Sprawled on the floor in front of the crackling fireplace, Remus and James ate dinner and did homework for two and a half hours.

Remus didn't like James Potter sometimes, but that didn't change the fact that the Marauders were the best thing that had ever happened to him.

AN: The best scents are lavender, vanilla extract, and honeysuckle. Someone should make a perfume combining all three!