The daycare was short-staffed, but Remus' mother got Christmas Eve and Christmas Day off—not to mention New Year's Eve and Boxing Day, which was a wonderful bonus. Remus' father had Christmas off, but that was it. "Boggarts everywhere," Remus' father explained. "It's ridiculous. Ministry's in a tizzy."

This, however, was the week before all the festivities, and Remus was to stay at home alone all day on Monday, Tuesday, Thursday, and Friday. He was to stay at Madam Pomfrey's house on Wednesday. He didn't ask how his father had managed to convince his mother to let him have that many days at home—he'd expected a 50/50 split.

Remus' friends seemed overjoyed to be staying at Remus' house, but there was also a bit of disappointment there that Remus didn't fully understand. We were just going to work on that three-person project more, explained James in the notebook on Saturday evening, and now we can't, because there will be four people at your house.

Because it's a secret, wrote Remus. Because you're keeping a secret from me.

No one responded.

Remus tried to imagine what the secret could possibly be. What hints did he have? He knew that it was possibly about buildings, he knew that it was possibly about his birthday, and he knew that it required a lot of library research. Other than that, he didn't know.

But he tried not to think about it.

Instead, he played board games with his parents, told his mother about the Arithmancy curriculum, babbled about his project with his father for hours, and read books. He tried to investigate his room for the secret passage, but he didn't find anything. He went outside and tramped around the forest with his father. He went downstairs to admire the newly-repaired cellar. He did some homework, but he saved most of it for his day with Madam Pomfrey (he could already tell that it was going to be unbearably awkward, and he wanted something with which to amuse himself).

Saturday passed. Sunday passed. Monday arrived. Now Remus was sitting on the couch, watching his parents anxiously pace. "I was writing to Fleamont," his father said, "and he's not bothered about the boys staying here alone one bit. He's the sort of parent that one would call…"

"Accommodating," said Remus' mother, white-faced. "Understanding."

"James just calls him 'cool'," said Remus. "Mum, I'll be fine. I've lived here all summer and I haven't died yet."

It had probably been a mistake to say the D-word in front of his mother, judging by the fact that she very nearly swooned. "Remus, darling, remember… no knives, no stove, no fire, and absolutely no magic…."

"I wasn't going to do any of that," said Remus, affronted. "I'm an obedient child, Mum. Promise."

"I know, it's just…." Remus' mother hugged him tightly. "You'll be fine. I know you will."

"I'll be great, Mum."

Suddenly, there was a roaring noise as the fireplace grew to twice its normal size. Remus' mother jumped and held more tightly to Remus. The fireplace spit a few ashes on the floor, and then James Potter stumbled out of it. He grinned and ruffled his hair, which was even more messy than usual and covered in ash. "Good to see you, Remus' parents!"

Remus rolled his eyes. "James. Mind dusting off a little before tracking ash all over the house? There's a dustpan to your left."

James did. Two seconds later, Sirius and Peter also emerged from the fire, clutching their bags to their chests. "Hello," they said in unison.

Remus' father didn't waste any time at all. "Ground rules," he said. "No fire. No stoves. No knives. No magic."

"Yes, sir," said Sirius with a little salute.

"Do you all have your wands on you?"

"But you said we couldn't use magic."

"You're allowed to do anything that will keep you alive in face of an emergency."

"Why would there be an emergency?" asked Peter.

"There won't be, hopefully. But you should be prepared anyway."

Remus' father spent the next five minutes outlining even more rules, and Remus' friends' eyes were glazing over. Finally, he finished the speech with an "and absolutely no going into the forest", patted Remus on the head, hugged him tightly, and then Apparated away with a crack.

Remus and his friends were alone, and it felt weird.

"They don't leave you alone often, do they?" asked James.

Remus shook his head. "No," he said. "They did once, but there was… erm, a threat nearby, so I spent the night and the next day with Professor Questus."

"Oh," said Peter. "But he's not around anymore."

Remus wanted to say, "Well, duh, Peter," and then throw something at him, but he didn't. "That's the other thing that's made them worried," he explained. "The war and all that. Something so terrible happened so close to us… and they're worried, that's all."

"Understandable," said James. "Must be pretty nice to get away from them, then. If my parents were like that, I'd be miserable."

"They're not so bad. I'm happy to see them."

"Yeah, well, you're a saint."

"I'm a werewolf."

"St. Clawgustine," said Sirius wisely.

Remus laughed. "You're so stupid."

"Guilty as charged," said Sirius. "Come on, lads, what do you say we do something fun?"

"Like what?" asked Peter.

"Well, I was thinking we could drag the stove outside to the forest, light it on fire, and then juggle knives on top of it while doing magic."

Remus laughed—he couldn't help it. "Or maybe we could play a nice board game," he said.

0

Instead, they went to explore the attic. Remus wasn't completely sure they were allowed to do that, but he was fairly certain. It was only storage, after all, and they already knew that he was a werewolf, anyway.

"Cool," said James, holding up a children's book. "What's this?"

"Sam the Shark," read Remus. "Can't you read?"

"Idiot," James scoffed; he tossed the book at Remus, who caught it, laughing.

"It used to be my favorite, I think," said Remus. "Mum and Dad tell me that I was obsessed with sharks when I was small. But after the attack… well, giant razor-sharp teeth just weren't as appealing, you know?"

"That explains these," said Sirius, holding up a box of no less than four shark toys. "You were such a baby."

"Shut up!"

While Remus and Sirius were tussling with the toys, Peter had found something else. "This says my name," he said.

Remus stopped trying to choke Sirius and looked over at Peter—unfortunately, that gave Sirius the split second he needed to tackle Remus to the ground. "Ow," said Remus, even though he knew that Sirius was being overly gentle on purpose, which was annoying. "What's that, Peter? Give it here."

Peter handed it to Remus. "I think it's a record," said Peter.

Remus inspected the item, which was—in fact—a record. "Peter and the Wolf," he read. "Sergei Prokofiev. That doesn't sound familiar."

"Do you have a record player?" asked James.

"Yeah. Questus left us one. But you'll have to get off of me so that I can go get it."

Sirius released Remus, and Remus descended the stairs and dashed to the sitting room. "You lot are going to have to come down here," he called. "I'm not carrying the player all the way up there. Mum and Dad would kill me if I dropped it."

"Your mum and dad are lame," said Sirius, but he came downstairs anyway.

Remus placed the record into the player, a little nervous about what he'd find. What if it was some news article about a dangerous, bloody wolf attack? What if it was something about Remus' childhood? He really didn't want anyone to know the gory details of his childhood. He couldn't imagine what could possibly be in the record….

Immediately, peppy orchestral music started playing. Remus hadn't known what to expect, but it certainly hadn't been that.

"What's this?" asked Sirius, nose wrinkled. "It doesn't sound like any wizarding classical composer I've heard."

"Sergei Prokofiev," said Remus with an eyeroll. "We've already covered that. I think it's Muggle, but I don't remember it one bit." Remus wasn't sure whether this had been a favorite of his before the attack or not—he really couldn't remember a thing. He racked his memory, but it was futile. "I'll have to ask Mum and Dad about it later. I suppose they just hid it up there because… you know. 'Wolf' in the title."

"That's stupid. The word 'wolf' wasn't about to hurt you."

"That's what Questus said when I told him that we got rid of every children's book in our house that contained any sort of canine after the attack."

"You did?!"

"Yeah. Some of them were in the attic, I think. Mum and Dad didn't really want me to 'see Spot run' at that point in my life."

They listened to the record for a little bit longer, and then James stood up. "I'm bored," he said. "Let's go back to the attic."

"No, I'm listening," said Sirius. "I like music."

"But I want to go to the attic."

Remus, who was getting kind of bored of the music himself, said, "There's no rule that we can't split up. I'll go with James. Sirius, you can stay and listen."

"Fine by me," said Sirius. He sat on the couch, rested his head on his hands, and stared at the spinning record. James, Remus, and Peter, after some hesitation, went to the attic, leaving Sirius alone and occupied.

0

They found a few other things up there. There were some old infant onesies (one was even shaped like a wolf, to James' great amusement), some baby toys, some broken furniture, boxes of fabric, an old sewing machine, two brooms, and….

"Did all this belong to John?" asked James, pointing towards a few boxes in the corner.

"Yeah. He never got around to unpacking that stuff, so we figured it was all storage."

"What's in it?"

"Lots of clothes, mostly, and some old blankets and pillows and things. Dad says that I can take his scarf and hat to school when I go back. It's a bit weird, using his things, but Mum thinks that's the best way to keep his memory alive or whatever. He didn't have any family but us, so she feels we're responsible for that." Remus rolled his eyes. "Personally, I don't think he'd've cared. But sometimes it's nice."

"Your dad's coat looked a bit familiar."

"Yeah, that was Questus', too."

"Huh," said James. "I don't think I want people to take my things when I die. I mean, you lot can have whatever you want, but I'd feel better if you sell it or something. Get more use out of it."

"When I die," said Remus seriously, because he knew that he was the most likely to die first, "I honestly don't care what anyone does. My only requests are that my parents choose what happens to my body—I do not want it Transfigured into a dead Snape, James—and that someone takes care of Bufo for me. That's it."

"What do you think John actually wanted?" asked Peter.

"I think he wanted everyone to stop talking about him entirely," said Remus. "Just pretend that he never existed. Except the Ministry. He probably wanted them to keep talking about how great of an Auror he was, how much they want him back, and how amazing of a duellist he was. But Mum and Dad let me see the will last summer, and…"

"What did it say?"

"It said, 'to Mr. and Mrs. Lupin, I leave literally everything I own. It's not like I have any friends or family, anyway, and it'll be a nice little recompense for letting me eat all your food. Get some good use out of it. Or sell it. I don't care.'" Remus was ashamed to admit it, but he had memorized it word-for-word.

"That sounds like him," said James. "Didn't he leave you something, too?"

"Yeah. He left me Edward—you know, the houseplant."

"Oh, right, that thing that's in the dormitory."

"Well, it's not in the dormitory right now. It's in my room. He also left me a cardboard box with all our letters… a few pictures… our games of dots and boxes. That was it. He didn't own much."

"What's happening to his house?" asked Peter.

"Mum and Dad are going to sell it someday, as soon as it's a little more desirable. Right now, it's a ghost town, so nobody wants to move in. Dad promised that I could have it if there are no potential buyers."

James grinned. "Cool, you have a house!"

"Not… not really." Remus found this refreshing—he had avoided the subject with his family for a few days now, and being able to talk about it made him feel lighter, somehow. But he was finished now, and he desperately wanted to change the subject. "Why don't we go check on Padfoot and make sure he hasn't found the knives yet?"

0

As it turned out, 'Padfoot' had not found the knives. He had, however, listened to the entire record—twice. "I like the melody," he said, shrugging. "Did Questus leave you the piano, by chance, Remus?"

"Yeah, but it's up in the attic and shrunken to the size of a pea. Dad's going to sell it, probably."

"When your mum and dad get back, you should ask them to regrow the piano. I want to play it. I've been trying to come up with a new harmony for the strings melody. Honestly, I don't know why that composer kept switching melodies. He could have done so much with that one. A chord progression here, a better transition here… and a variation or two would spice things up. Is this how all Muggle composers do things?"

"Er, I don't know," said Remus, who legitimately had no idea what Sirius was talking about. "Yeah, Dad'll probably grow the piano if you want to play for a bit. For now, why don't we go looking for that secret passage?"

Sirius' face, which had been dreamy and distracted only seconds later, suddenly hardened considerably. "No," he said. "There isn't a secret passage."

"There is! I'm sure of it. You know the snake on the doorknob? That same snake was in the girls' lavatory, remember? We saw it when we were with Drew's Crew, and Dilley said that it was a secret passage… or rather, Max did. I'm still not sure how that works."

"Yeah, and we didn't find one," argued Sirius.

"Doesn't mean there wasn't one."

"Moony, you're being ridiculous."

"No, you are! Come on, Padfoot… you can't tell me that going on an adventure, trying to find a secret passage, isn't the most fun thing in the world. Don't be such a—"

"That's Slytherin's snake," said Sirius, and Remus fell silent.

"It's Slytherin's snake," repeated Sirius, as if Remus hadn't heard him the first time. "Believe me, mate, that means nothing good. I'm so done with Slytherin. I was hoping to get away from it all, not chase after it. Can't we just do something a little less dangerous? Like magic-fire-knife juggling on a stove?"

Remus didn't want to argue with that. He knew that Slytherin was a sore subject for Sirius, who hated anyone on the pure basis of their being Slytherin. He knew that Sirius was sick of hearing about the House in his family, and he knew that Sirius only wanted an escape. But just as he was about to suggest that they do something else, instead, James leapt over to Sirius and patted him forcefully on the back.

"Come on, old buddy," said James cheerfully. "Don't be such a scaredy-cat. It'll be fun!"

Sirius sighed. "Prongs…"

"We're doing it and that's that! Where's your sense of adventure? Are you a Gryffindor or not?"

"But, Prongs…"

"Don't But-Prongs me. We're going to have a great time, you coward. Where to, Remus?"

Vaguely, Remus wanted to jump in and defend Sirius. There are lots of types of Gryffindors, he would say. Sirius doesn't have to want to investigate a stupid passage that probably doesn't exist if he doesn't want to. The point of an adventure is that it's something new, and Slytherin is the opposite of new for Sirius. He doesn't have to go. We can ignore the passage for now; I don't mind.

But Remus didn't say any of that, because of course he wanted to see the passage, too.

So he led James and Peter to the first area that he wanted to investigate, and a very exasperated Sirius followed.

AN: Would totally recommend listening to Peter and the Wolf if you get the chance—it was my childhood :) They're listening to the version without narration btw!