"All right," said James. "Next full moon, we put those awful leaves into our mouths once again."

Sirius groaned. "Full moon isn't for ages. Why are we talking about this?"

"Because Moony is away. He's working on that project thing with Albus, so we've got time—and shouldn't we use every second he's not here and we're all together to talk about the Animagus thing?"

There was a sickening crack, and James whipped around to see the source of the sound: it was Sirius, who had banged his head against the headboard of his bed in a fit of absolute frustration. "James Prongs Salazar Potter," Sirius said. "That boy is a werewolf. He's away constantly. For a few days every month, in fact. I want to help him as much as you do, and I'm definitely keen on becoming a giant dog. But I'm so sick of going over the same plan over and over again. Don't you have a brilliant memory? How come you need to talk about it so much? Don't you just remember or whatever?"

"First of all, my middle name is not Salazar," James grumbled. "Secondly, it's not that I don't remember! I'm just excited about it, and I like to talk about things that make me excited!"

"Well, I don't like to talk about things that make me excited, because then I stop being excited about them. Just shut up about the Mandrakes already."

"But this is a huge project that will take years! We should use all the time we have to speed up the process! Shouldn't we make plans about the future steps and all that?"

"Yeah, let me know when you come up with something. You can think about while we're out flying broomsticks, right? That'll be fun. Let's go do that."

"I don't want to fly broomsticks; I want to talk about the Animagus thing. Let's talk about all the things we can do once we're animals! We can sneak into Hogsmeade, we can run around in the forest, and Wormtail can ride on one of our backs!"

"Not mine," grumbled Sirius.

"It'll be fun!"

"Yeah, it'll be fun. In several months, when we finally accomplish it. For right now, let's do something that's fun right now, yeah?"

James sighed. Truth be told, he understood Sirius' point. He'd been a bit obsessive lately, and he understood why Sirius was getting annoyed. When Remus was gone (which he had been for many weeks recently), James could do naught but think about becoming an awesome giant stag. He was excited, and James tended to get a bit… well, fixated.

His parents had warned him of getting fixated when he was younger. He'd been absolutely determined to fly his broom all the way across the lake and back, even though the broom in question was broken. He'd gotten back from broom-flying with the shadow of the wind still on his hair and a dusting of pink still on his cheeks, and he'd chattered excitedly to his mum about how he was getting so close, and it should only be a couple more days, and he was so excited to finally accomplish his goal….

His mum had nodded along with amused smiles and little glances at James' father. She'd brushed the twigs out of James' hair, given him new clothes (because he tended to fall in the water, regrettably), and reminded him that he wasn't to go any higher than a couple of feet above lake level.

But then, when James was still talking about it during supper… and after supper… and before bed… she'd say, "All right, James. There are other good things in life. Let's talk about something else, yes?"

And he would nod and comply (sometimes), but he still couldn't stop thinking about the awesome rush of wind, the impending goal; it was a weight on his brain that took away every other thought, and it occupied James' head whenever he was bored (which was rather often. James had been a precocious child, and nothing was able to occupy him for very long).

This felt like that. James was a goal-oriented person, and this was a goal, so he simply couldn't stop thinking about it. It was like a song stuck in his head. No matter what he did, not matter how many different tunes he tried to sing, the song would always come back as soon as James was reminded of it again.

That gave James an idea, actually. Perhaps he could distract himself with something else he loved—something loud enough to drown out the urge to talk and talk and talk.

"Fine. Let's listen to a record," he said. "Dave Hippo?"

"Sure," said Sirius, his eyes lighting up. "You and I can waltz. We're great at the standard Pureblood waltz, I'm sure."

"But of course," said James in an obnoxious posh accent.

For the next hour or so, they listened to Dave Hippo's loudest, most obnoxious rock songs, and James and Sirius waltzed at the speed of light (even though the standard Pureblood waltz was in 3/4 and the song was in 4/4. Sirius complained, but James didn't care).

Next, they sang along at the top of their lungs, and Puttle ended up coming to shut them down. "I'm trying to revise," his hissed. "We all are. Shut up."

So they did (mostly), but they kept listening. The Animagus "song" was still stuck in James' head, but Dave Hippo, Peter's giggles, and Sirius' raucous laughter were slowly drowning it out… until next full moon, of course, when they could finally move closer toward their goal.

"I think I got it," Remus told Professor Dumbledore. Earlier that day, James had been at Quidditch practice, and Sirius and Peter had been frolicking around the grounds. Remus had taken the time to sneak to the Divination classroom (his superior senses had told him that it was empty), and he'd promptly entered the Hogwarts Founders painting. Then he'd spent a good hour with Rowena, trying his very hardest to achieve the spell… and, after a frustratingly long time, he was pretty sure that he had done it.

"Let's see, then," said Dumbledore, eyes twinkling merrily. Remus pulled out his wand, pointed at the mug that he'd gingerly carried to Dumbledore's office (it felt sort of sacred now, both because it had once belonged to Professor Questus and because it was now tethered to its own unique spell), and said, "Parmotus Mug," in the clearest voice possible.

Nothing happened.

Remus cleared his throat and laughed nervously. "Let me try again," he said, and Dumbledore nodded his assent.

"Parmotus Mug," he said.

Nothing.

"Er… Parmotus Mug," he said again, tightening up his wand movement and trying to focus a bit harder. This time, the mug moved an inch to the left.

Remus turned to look at Professor Dumbledore, grinning widely. "Did you see that? It worked! Not the first time, but I'm pretty sure that's just because I was nervous."

"Very well done," Dumbledore praised, and Remus felt a rush of pride at receiving such high praise from the greatest wizard alive. "Very well done, Remus. This is not a third-year skill—in fact, it is a skill that not many grown witches and wizards end up mastering. Excellent. Absolutely excellent."

Remus smiled. "So can we move on to the next part now?" he asked.

"Indeed we can—but first, I would like to know why you picked that particular phrase. Parmotus Mug, was it? I recognize 'motus' from the Latin—I assume the 'par' is from 'parva'? Small movement, then?"

"Yes, sir. And 'mug' means… 'mug'."

Dumbledore laughed. "I understood that part perfectly, yes. Why, may I ask, did you use the English?"

Remus flushed a bit. "Because I didn't know the Latin word for 'mug'…."

"Fair enough," said Dumbledore jovially.

"But it was also because that's how things like that work, isn't it? We say Accio and then the actual object in English. It felt right, so I didn't bother looking up the word."

"Very good reasoning, and that type of reasoning is exactly what you'll need for this next part. I'm going to set you some homework, Remus—I would like you to list each of the variables you'd like to change in the simulation and come up with a possible incantation for each. I'd like to meet again with you next week and go over them. Do you think you can have it done by then?"

"Yes, sir!"

"Wonderful. You're dismissed... after I tell you one last thing, that is."

"Yes?"

"Try to stay out of trouble."

Remus looked at him quizzically. "I typically do, Professor."

"I know, but I came across something rather odd the other day, and I thought your friends might be bullying students in a way that is entirely unacceptable."

Remus' chest felt tight. "Well, I've been gone… but I've not heard anything about that. And they wouldn't bully anyone; I know they wouldn't."

"Are you certain?" asked Dumbledore, peering at Remus over the tops of his half-moon spectacles.

No, thought Remus. "Yes, sir," he said.

"Very well." Dumbledore gave Remus one last, searching look, and then he said, "I trust your judgement, Remus."

"Thank you," said Remus, guilt twisting up from his stomach and sliding up into his throat. He didn't know why. His friends were good people, and he oughtn't feel guilty for affirming that. "I'll see you tomorrow for Arithmancy class, Professor. Thank you so much."

"It is, as always, my pleasure," said Dumbledore. "But I do believe I have found a suitable replacement for Professor Craff, so it is likely that I won't talk to you again until next week."

"You have?!" Remus had been about to leave, but now he whirled around. "You're serious?"

"Perfectly."

"And, er… about me. How does the new professor feel… about me?"

"He is open-minded, and he would love to meet you in person."

"Tomorrow?"

"No. Arithmancy class has been cancelled for the rest of the week. He needs to settle in, and I need to help with that. But perhaps in two or three days? I shall send for you when we are ready."

"Yes, sir," said Remus. He didn't particularly want to meet new teachers one-on-one, but he saw why it was necessary. "And, may I ask… what does this mean about Sirius' Assistant Headmaster duties?"

"I was just about to ask your opinion, which is an opinion that I value very much," said Dumbledore seriously. "What do you think, Remus?"

Remus hesitated before answering, trying to choose words that wouldn't frame any of his friends in a bad light while still not obligating Professor Dumbledore to do anything inconvenient. "James is busy nowadays, and I think Sirius is jealous. You already knew all that, of course. But it's been a lot easier when Sirius has something to do, you know; otherwise he follows the rest of us around like he's a wounded puppy. It's hard to entertain him, but perhaps it's time he learned that… well, we have lives, and sometimes he's going to have to entertain himself."

"Indeed," said Dumbledore with a nod. "Sirius is a very good person, but he does not like to be held back. He is restless, he is eager, and he likes to be kept busy. I'm afraid there aren't many people at Hogwarts who can keep up with him. James Potter is likely the only one, in fact."

"Yeah."

"I, another bright student who was very attached to my childhood best friend, can sympathize with that," said Dumbledore with a small smile. "It is rather difficult to make friends when one is... different, as I'm sure you understand as well."

Remus laughed. "Definitely."

"And, as James was his first friend, he likely feels betrayed. He feels as if he's not good enough to hold James' attention. He feels lonely. He feels bored."

"Yes."

Dumbledore sighed. "It is nice having someone to do the more menial jobs for me, especially with the war—I must admit I am very busy nowadays. Yes, I think Sirius can keep up his Assistant Headmaster duties for the time being. May I ask you to speak with him?"

"Speak with him? About what?"

"About everything. Just lend a listening ear, please. I know it is a lot to ask, but I trust you understand how relieving it is to talk things out."

"Yes, sir."

"Not to mention that Sirius will talk about anything to anyone," Dumbledore added. "I've noticed that he loves to talk. The more people he can talk to, the better."

"That makes sense, sir," said Remus. He remembered Professor Questus with a pang—he briefly wondered what Questus would say to Sirius, and then he stopped wondering because it hurt far too much.

"I'm glad you agree. You're a good friend, Remus."

Dumbledore smiled and tossed Remus a Chocolate Frog; Remus caught it and put it in his pocket. He'd offer it to Peter later—Peter always liked to have something to munch on while he was doing his schoolwork. "Thank you, sir," said Remus.

"You're very welcome. You should go back to your dormitory now. Sleep well."

Remus nodded, smiled, and scurried down the corridor back to his dormitory, thinking all the way.

When he returned to the dormitory, James was livid.

"This is your fault!" he shouted at Remus, gesturing to the trunk that had once contained the Mandrakes.

Remus froze. How had they figured it out? "I'm not sure what you mean," he said evenly. "What happened?"

"You dismantled our booby trap, and Snape got in here!" James scowled. "Snape got in here and stole our Mandrake leaves! Again! How dare he invade our privacy? It's our dormitory!"

"Wait… you think Snape stole your Mandrake leaves?"

"Yes! Of course!"

"Why?"

"Who else would do it? Snape has been out for our blood since first year! Of course it was him!"

Remus rather thought it was the other way around, but he didn't say anything. "I think you'd better tell me the whole story," he said.

James collapsed onto the floor with a huff and rolled onto his stomach, pressing his face onto the floor. "We were dancing around and listening to Dave Hippo," he said, his voice muffled, "and then I decided to check on the Mandrake leaves. Just to make sure they were still there."

"He hasn't stopped thinking about them for months now," Sirius grumbled.

"And they weren't there! Someone took them! And I know it was Snivellus, that absolute—"

James' voice was still muffled, but Remus caught a harsh string of swear words. He grimaced. James was really angry, Remus knew. Swearing was a pretty common occurrence at Hogwarts, of course, and James, Sirius, and Peter all tended to indulge from time to time. But James never, ever swore at another person. His mother had been quite strict about it, and James tended to respect his parents' wishes far more than Sirius did.

Remus knew that he should tell his friends who really took the Mandrake leaves, because he had no reason to lie. They would like him no matter what, probably, especially since the project was for him in the first place. Logically, Remus knew this.

But, emotionally, he didn't think he could handle James' wrath.

Besides, what had Snape ever done for Remus that he deserved Remus risking his own neck to save him some reputation? Nothing, that was what! No, Remus wasn't going to tell his friends the truth. Snape deserved their anger anyway, probably. And if Remus told them, then they'd be on their guard around him… Remus would no longer be able to secretly sabotage their attempts. They would get further in the process. They would die.

Remus was good at keeping secrets, and this was just another one that he was going to have to keep. And if it meant blaming Snape, then so be it. Remus valued his friendships far more than he valued the comfort of a boy who had never been particularly nice to him anyway. Snape had even tried to curse him back in first year! He didn't deserve Remus' self-sacrifice—not like this.

"How did he even know the password?" said Sirius, jerking Remus out of his thoughts. "It was super long, and we kept it a secret."

James lifted his head. "Someone must have told him," he said, a fire in his eyes. "I bet it was Peter."

"What?" Peter yelped. "I didn't do it!"

James grimaced. "You're right," he said apologetically. "You're right, Wormtail. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have blamed you; you wouldn't have done something like that. That was cruel of me. But I just… I thought we were so careful! We even brought Moony with us!"

"And how was that supposed to help?" asked Remus.

"Well, you would have known if anyone was near enough to listen in! You and your super-wolf senses."

"Oh, right." Remus didn't particularly like being used as a tool of any kind, but he was being sensitive and picky. "Well, it's possible that..."

"Yes?" asked James. He sat up completely now. "Do you know how Snape might've known, Moony? Tell us!"

Remus sighed. He was making things up at this point. "Legilimency, perhaps?" he said quietly, even though he knew it was unrealistic. Snape was in third year. There was no way he could use Legilimency without anyone knowing, even if he was already an accomplished Legilimens. Even Dumbledore's Legilimency could be felt, if only slightly... but Remus' friends didn't need to know that.

"You think he's a Legilimens?" asked Sirius skeptically. "Really?"

"Well, how else would he have known? He probably just found one of us and… and looked into our minds… and saw the password."

Peter gasped. "People can do that?"

Oh, Remus felt horribly guilty now. Peter was going to be paranoid, now that he knew that nothing was safe, not even his thoughts. What was Remus meant to say to calm him?

"Not many people," he said. "Professor Dumbledore can, but he doesn't usually do it without permission. I think maybe Snape can, but he'd be the only one at the school besides Dumbledore—it's a very hard skill that takes years to learn."

"There's no way Snivellus could do that," said James, shaking his head.

"I'm not so sure. He's clever. He's created spells before, Dumbledore said, and I know firsthand how ridiculously difficult that is."

"Huh," said Sirius. "So do you think he knows you're a werewolf?"

"No, definitely not. He'd've told the whole school by now if he did. I think maybe..." Remus was just making stuff up now. "I think maybe it's easier if he looks for something he already knows is there. Like a specific password. Just finding out random and unexpected things is pretty much impossible for a novice Legilimens, so I'm not too bothered."

There was silence. Remus swallowed, praying they would believe him. Their very lives depended on it, probably.

"That sounds reasonable," said James, and Remus exhaled slightly. "I suppose we're going to have to protect the Mandrake leaves a different way—something that Snape couldn't access, even if he looked into our minds."

"Like a fingerprint thing!" said Sirius excitedly.

"Yeah! Next time we grab some leaves, we'll lock them up and make it so that only my fingerprint can access the box! This is perfect!"

"Why not all four of our fingerprints?" asked Remus desperately. "We're all Marauders, after all."

James made a humming noise in agreement, but then he shook his head. "No. That's too risky. The less people who can access the box, the less people Snape has the opportunity to kidnap. That does sound like something he would do, right? Kidnap one of us, drag us here, and press our fingers to the box? No, it had better just be one of us, and I'm the most magically competent—"

"Oi," said Sirius.

"Okay, fine, you're pretty great, too. But I'm taking more classes, so I know more. I'll do it."

Remus sighed. He'd have to talk to Rowena later, because he had no idea how he was getting out of this one.