Remus' friends came to visit the next day, and Remus was alarmed to discover that they all smelled like Mandrakes.

It was one thing if James smelled like a Mandrake. James smelled like a lot of strange things, especially after Quidditch practice. In October, he'd walked into the dormitory smelling of pumpkins. "Why do you smell like a pumpkin?" Remus had asked.

"Crashed into one."

"I'm also detecting a hint of dog."

"Crashed into that, too."

"And tell me about the smell of freshly-mown grass."

"Crashed."

"And… is that Severus Snape?"

"Crashed—but that one was on purpose."

Anyway. Remus wouldn't put it past James to crash into a crop of Mandrakes whilst flying around on that broom of his. He wouldn't even put it past Sirius. But Peter? No, Peter was far too careful on a broomstick to crash into anything like that. Besides, James' odd scents usually disappeared after a shower and a long night's sleep—but it had been a while, and he still smelled as if he had a Mandrake leaf in his pocket or something.

No. Remus' friends' breaths smelled of Mandrakes. Had they eaten them? Had they neglected to brush their teeth that morning (again, Remus wouldn't put it past them)?

And why was Peter talking funny?

"All right," said Remus, crossing his arms. "I'm happy you've finally found the time to visit me; I really am. But spit it out."

"Spit what out?" asked Sirius, his face going white as Nearly Headless Nick's.

"The… the story, Padfoot. Of why you smell of Mandrakes."

Remus' friends stared at each other. Stared at the ceiling. Stared at the wall. Stared at anywhere but Remus.

Remus had known that something was up, but now he was absolutely certain that something was incredibly wrong. His friends were doing something that Remus wouldn't approve of. Otherwise, there was no reason to look so guilty about it—indeed, James and Sirius weren't the types for guilt, so avoiding Remus' gaze was an odd occurrence indeed.

So what were they doing that they didn't want Remus to know about?

Were they playing some sort of prank on Snape? It was certainly a possibility, but James and Sirius had never seemed ashamed of doing so in the past. On the contrary: they always seemed rather excited to tell Remus about what they'd done to the poor boy. Remus didn't approve of teasing Snape, but he also hadn't made that terribly explicit to his friends—not as explicit, at least, as he'd made other things (like the fact that he hadn't wanted James telling off Craff for pretending that Remus didn't exist).

Perhaps they were bullying Peter? Playing some sort of prank on him? Remus certainly didn't like it when his friends tested unknown spells on Peter (they had in first year once) or made fun of him, but… again, it was something that James and Sirius certainly wouldn't be ashamed of. Besides, Peter was looking just as guilty. Remus ruled that one out, too.

Or maybe it was something to do with Remus' birthday, which was three months away. Maybe it was the good kind of surprise? No, that wasn't it, either. Remus knew his friends, and he most certainly knew a Good-Surprise-On-The-Way smirk from a You're-Gonna-Hate-Us silent stare.

No, Remus didn't know a thing. All he knew was that a) it had something to do with Mandrakes, and b) the smell was emitting from his friends' mouths.

"It's our new perfume," James finally said. "Went and picked it up at some fancy shop over holidays. Mum took us, and we thought it'd be a lark. Maybe we'll pick up some girls. I mean, except for Sirius. He's already got one."

At the mention of "Sirius" instead of the much more commonly-mentioned "Padfoot", Remus became (if possible) even more suspicious.

"Yeah," said Sirius. "My girlfriend. Good old Catherine."

"I thought her name was Amanda," said James.

"Yeah, that's what I said. Amanda."

"Or was it Charlotte?"

"Charlotte's her nickname."

Remus narrowed his eyes. "Something's up," he insisted. "Unless you eat perfume, that is. There's no reason for your breath to be smelling of Mandrakes if you're using mere perfume."

"Okay, fine," Peter blurted.

James hit Peter on the upper arm—hard—and Peter gave him a dirty look. "We're working on a potion that we think might get rid of some pre-moon symptoms," said Peter quickly. "Not everything, of course, but we're trying to make it energy-boosting for a couple of hours, and then wear off before you have to transform. It won't stop the transformation, but we're hoping it'll make you feel better until it's time."

James' eyes lit up, and Remus couldn't tell whether it was because he was appreciative of Peter's lie or merely excited to tell Remus about the prospect of the very-real potion. "You told us once that you can't take potions on the day before the full moon," said James, "because wolves tend to get worked up when they're under the influence, and then it just fades away anyway. You also told us that your senses were heightened enough that taking a potion might make you sick."

"Yeah…."

"So we're trying to develop a potion that wears off before you transform, to get rid of that first problem, and is completely odorless and tasteless, to get rid of that second problem!"

Remus was silent for a moment as he considered this. It sounded like something they would do. It made sense. It was insanely dangerous to be testing potions like that (Remus assumed they had already tested some—why else would their mouths smell like Mandrakes?), but this really did explain a lot about the past few months. So this was their three-person project. It explained away a lot of their cryptic comments, actually, and it made perfect sense.

"So all this time you haven't been avoiding me?" Remus asked. "You've been trying to help me, and you wanted to keep it a surprise?"

All three of Remus' friends nodded vehemently. "We'd never avoid you," promised Peter.

"That still doesn't explain why you were circling the Shrieking Shack that one time while I was transforming. You said it was for your three-person project, but I don't see how it would help at all."

"Just trying to figure out what time you transformed so that we know what time the potion has to wear off," said Peter quickly.

That… made sense, actually.

"All right," said Remus. "I don't support this. It won't help, and you might kill yourselves. You need to stop, because I don't want your deaths on my conscience… but I do believe you."

But, after Remus caught a sigh of relief from both James and Sirius, he wasn't sure he did anymore. Why would his friends be relieved if they weren't trying to hide something?

Remus wasn't proud to admit it, but he had lied enough in the past in order to know exactly how it worked.

Remus' suspicions got even stronger when he got out of the Hospital Wing. Sure, it was reasonable (not likely, but mildly reasonable) that his friends' mouths smelled of Mandrakes when they came to visit him after (supposedly) working on the potion in their dormitory. But they ate breakfast with Remus—Remus watched them eat—and they couldn't have sampled any more of that potion since then. So why did they still smell of Mandrakes?

They'd been lying!

But, if they'd been lying, then what else could they possibly be doing? Remus had already run through every single possibility, he'd thought, and none of them fit. It was a little like a puzzle, except none of the pieces fit together like they should have. They were all slightly too big, or slightly too small, or just the wrong color and picture altogether.

Remus had Herbology that afternoon, and he managed to slip away from his friends after class to talk to Sprout. "Professor?" he said, trying to ignore the way Professor Sprout jumped at the sound of his voice. Even after two and a half years, she was still slightly jumpy around Remus the Werewolf.

"Yes?" she asked. She was trying, at least, and that was all that mattered.

"What are the uses of Mandrake leaves? I remember learning about them in second year, but I think I need a bit of a refresher before exams. I've forgotten."

Sprout chuckled. "It's so like you to start thinking about exams months beforehand," she said. "But… you know, a few Mandrake leaves have disappeared from my supply recently. I hate to accuse without evidence, but have you or your friends done something with them? Forgive me, but your question is rather timely!"

"I know I haven't, but I don't know a thing about my friends." Yeah, Remus definitely wasn't about to explicitly cover for them when they were possibly doing something dangerous. "Can anything harmful be done with them? The leaves, I mean."

"Mandrake leaves are used in certain poisons, but they're more commonly used in antidotes. Because of the nature of Mandrake leaves, they are most commonly used for changing rather than harming—changing the makeup of a thing, changing the function of a thing, and changing the way a thing works. They're used to help individuals Petrified by animals like Basilisks or Medusa Dragons: that's where we get the myth that Mandrakes can change stone to a living being. They are also used in color-changing potions, material-changing potions, and potions that change one animal to another. They are most commonly used in Alchemy research, though nothing has come of it quite yet. Does that help?"

Remus thought about that. It fit Peter's initial explanation—werewolves certainly had to do with changing—but Remus still didn't buy it. "Yes, that makes sense," he said. "Thank you. It's pretty useful when I can connect a potions ingredient to a certain use rather than memorize every single potion it's used for, that's all."

"I always think so," said Sprout with a smile. "Let me know if you have any other questions. I'm always happy to talk to someone just as interested as I am in plants."

Admittedly, Remus was not at all interested in plants, but he was certainly interested in whatever his friends were doing.

He had Duelling Club that afternoon, and Flitwick pulled him aside before they began. "I was planning on splitting everyone into pairs today," he said, which was an exercise that they often did, "but I was also planning on randomizing it. Everyone tends to pick the same people every time, and there's not much of a challenge to that."

"Okay," said Remus, not entirely sure why Flitwick was telling him this.

"I happen to know that you were discharged from the Hospital Wing early this morning," said Flitwick. "Are you sure you're feeling up to duelling someone new? If you'd like to duel with someone you're comfortable with instead, I understand completely. You should realize, though, that you're probably my most promising student… and I'd really like to get you some practice with the older students, who probably come closer to matching your experience level."

Promising student? Older students? Remus' heart swelled with pride, and then immediately exploded with fear. "Er," he stammered. "I guess… that'd be fine? But I make no promises…. I'm still shaky and my reflexes are off and I…"

"Why don't you duel with me?" suggested Flitwick. "I don't know what kind of things the older students might pull, and I know you're sensitive while you're still recovering."

Remus, who despised the word sensitive, wanted to deny it… but it was entirely true. "I'd like that," he said.

So, after Flitwick split everyone into groups, he paired up with Remus and the two of them sparred the whole time. Remus managed to get a couple of good defenses in, but he was definitely slower than he normally was.

After time ran out and Flitwick dismissed everyone, he pulled Remus aside one more time. "You're a bit sluggish," he said, "even for a full moon. You're not as quick as you usually are."

"I have a lot on my mind," Remus admitted.

"It's an emotional problem?" pressed Flitwick. "Is it from the fire last year? Still recovering?"

"Er, yeah," lied Remus.

"The grief does come and go, doesn't it? I miss him too—John Questus, I mean—though I wasn't nearly as close to him as you were."

"Right." Flitwick was ushering Remus into a chair now, and Remus sat without much resistance. "That's not all, though. I've got something else on my mind, too."

"Hm?"

"Well, a couple of things. I've been trying to… trying to keep busy. It helps take my mind off things."

"I see. That helps sometimes, doesn't it?"

"Yeah, it helps. But sometimes I feel like… overworked, kind of. And sometimes I feel too tired to do anything at all. And, because I've been working on so many other things, I miss other things. Like…." Remus hesitated. "Professor, what if… what if you had a suspicion about something, but you weren't sure, and you thought it might be dangerous?"

Flitwick frowned. "Then you should tell someone—an adult, preferably."

Remus considered that. "But what if telling an adult could hurt someone? Other people. And then…" Remus thought about what his friends might do if he started messing with their idea of fun. He could lose them. He could be all alone, stuck without a purpose, just like he'd been before Hogwarts… and it would be even more painful now, because now that he knew what it was like to have friends, he didn't think he could go back. "What if telling an adult could hurt me, too?"

"I'm going to need more information than that," said Flitwick, frowning even more deeply, "but I assure you, Lupin, that Professor Dumbledore can solve most anything. I suggest you go to him. And if you'd like to come to me, then my door is always open."

"Right," said Remus. He had no plans of doing that.

"As for how busy you've been lately—I really do suggest you tone it down if it's stressing you out. These things can spiral, so you need to pay attention to how you're feeling right now before you regret it."

"I'm fine," said Remus quickly. "Thanks, Professor. I'm trying really hard to stop thinking about it all."

"Distractions are okay, but refusing to think about it is not helping the situation."

"Well… it kind of is, because it's not just Professor Questus. That's one thing. It's just… things are getting sort of frightening now, aren't they?" Remus frowned, thinking hard. "And it's not about to get better anytime soon. I'm just… a bit worried, that's all. When things get really bad, werewolf sentiments tend to plummet, even at the national level."

"Indeed," said Flitwick. "Well, I assure you, your duelling skills will be good enough to keep you out of trouble. You just need a bit more training."

"I suppose," said Remus, "but it's still a bit worrisome. Things are really getting bad."

A short moment of silence transpired, and then Flitwick said, "Yes. They do seem to be that way, don't they?"

"Yeah." Remus stood up and shrugged. "Sorry for talking your ear off, Professor. I used to go to Professor Questus, but… he's dead now, so I wasn't sure where else to go."

"Go to Professor Dumbledore," said Flitwick immediately. "My door is always open, of course, but if it may be dangerous—if it may hurt someone—then go to Professor Dumbledore."

"I'll do that if it gets to be that bad," Remus promised. "Thank you, sir."

"Always happy to help my star student," said Flitwick with a smile.

Remus did not go to Dumbledore. He would see him later that day, anyhow, and he didn't want to exhaust the poor man with his problems. Instead, he went to the other Marauders.

Not to talk, though, because the time for that had come and gone. They'd had the chance to tell him, and they didn't, so now Remus was going to figure it out for himself.

"I need you to help me break into the Divination classroom," he said.

A sly, Mandrake-scented grin spread across James' face. "Is this Remus Lupin? Asking to sneak somewhere?"

"Shut up. Are you helping or not?"

"Oh, we're absolutely helping. The Invisibility Cloak is getting antsy, I think. It's been pent up for too long."

"Wasn't pent up when you nicked Mandrakes from the greenhouse," Remus shot back. "People have died sneaking into those greenhouses, you know."

"Who's died?" James scoffed. "You're lying; you don't know anyone. And pish-posh. My Invisibility Cloak needs to be let out anyway. Come on, Marauders!"

They snuck down the corridors together as quietly as possible.

Well, Remus was being as quiet as possible. James and Sirius were whispering and stifling laughter (though not very well), Peter was walking and breathing far too loudly, and even Bufo (whom Peter insisted on bringing along) was croaking quietly.

"Merlin's beard," muttered Remus. "Are all of you incapable of being quiet for just one moment?"

"Completely," whispered James, and then he and Sirius collapsed into a silent whisper-giggle fit. Bufo croaked again.

They walked down the corridors for a few more moments, and then Remus managed to smell cat (which was impressive over the ever-distracting scent of Mandrake). "Hide," he hissed.

Remus and his friends ducked behind a wall and waited for the cat scent to fade, but it didn't. In fact, it only grew stronger… Mrs. Norris was crawling closer and closer… Remus could hear her claws clicking against the floor… and then she was upon them.

The thing about third-year boys was that they tended to grow. All four of them had been tiny in first year (James had been relatively tall, Sirius had been slightly shorter, but both of them had been skinny. Peter had been the shortest, but also the least thin. Remus had been the thinnest by far and also a tad shorter than both Sirius and James). They'd all fit under the Invisibility Cloak quite well.

But now, James and Sirius were both shooting up like Jack's beanstalk (especially James). Remus was putting on a little bit of healthy weight, thanks to Madam Pomfrey's potions, and he was also growing taller. Peter was growing both up and out. And, unfortunately for them, it was clear that none of them were quite done growing.

Did they still all fit under the Invisibility Cloak? No, they did not. Not even close.

Mrs. Norris clearly smelled them (perhaps she also smelled the Mandrakes, Remus thought bitterly), and she definitely saw their feet poking out the bottom of the Cloak.

James swore, and Bufo croaked again, but Remus hushed them both. "Shut up," he said. "Filch is coming down the corridor. I can smell him, somehow, even though the air reeks of Mandrakes."

"I don't know how you can smell them so strongly," said James with a massive eyeroll. "It's only a tiny little bit."

"Only a tiny little bit?" asked Remus, and he was not proud to note that his voice was getting much louder. "Only a tiny little bit? What do you mean? You're… you're eating them, or something! Constantly!"

"Yeah, but only a little bit," said James quickly. Too quickly. "We're taking, like, Mandrake mints. Every so often. For research."

Remus shook his head. "If you say so," he said; after all, they had much bigger problems on their plate.

Filch walked down the corridor—Remus could hear his footsteps on the ground and his heavy breathing—and the Marauders were officially panicking. There was nothing they could do. Not like this. The Cloak wasn't big enough to cover them, no matter which way they stood.

"Why didn't we check our ankles before we left?" hissed Sirius.

"Remus was too eager to leave," said James.

"No, Prongs, you were the eager one—"

"Shut up, Moony. We're gonna get detention for life."

Filch drew nearer and nearer, and then Remus heard James say, "Desperate times call for desperate measures!"

There was a quick blast as of something exploding, and then Remus couldn't see anything but garlic, couldn't smell anything but garlic, and tasted garlic in his mouth every time he tried to take a breath.

Before he knew it, James and Sirius were pulling Remus and James away from the garlic and back towards the dormitory. They ran, even though Remus was still horribly discombobulated from the garlic. He couldn't even smell the Mandrakes anymore.

They reached a faraway corridor, and they paused for a moment to catch their breaths. "That was a blast!" said Sirius. "Haha, blast. Literally."

"You're not funny," said James. "Are Filch and Mrs. Norris far enough away, Moony?"

Remus sighed. "Gee, Prongs, I don't know. You sort of clogged my nose with garlic. I smell nothing but garlic. Nothing!"

"Then listen, you whiny werewolf," said James. "Hear any breathing or anything?"

"No."

"Good." James grinned. "Garlic bomb. Got it at Zonko's. It clogs up Mrs. Norris' sense of smell, too, so it's great for getting rid of her in an empty corridor. Filch probably thinks she's going crazy, sneezing all over the place for no reason—"

Remus sneezed.

"Oh," said James. "Oops."

Remus sneezed all the way back to the dormitory. It was a wonder nobody caught them.

Remus hadn't gotten to the Divination classroom tonight, but perhaps he would soon. And, when he finally did find out what his friends were up to, not even a garlic bomb would be able to save them.

AN: I wrote 6 chapters last weekend. Was insanely productive :D