When Remus woke up the next morning, it didn't take him long at all to remember where he was, and what had happened. Seventh year. The Loyalty Ritual.

James and Peter were alive.

He was strangely at peace with it, he contemplated, as he stared up at the velvety crimson fabric that draped across the top of his four-poster bed. Even the Hogwarts' professors' quarters weren't nearly as nice as the dormitories, and it had been a long time since Remus had slept in a bed as comfortable as this one. He had forgotten, he mused, how good it felt to be seventeen and living as a student at Hogwarts. He could almost let himself forget all about the war, and his friend's deaths, and the dark, suffocating loneliness of the past twelve years. He could almost let himself slip back into the blissful innocence of his Hogwarts days, back when the full moon was the only thing that haunted him.

He couldn't, though. It was the thought of Sirius Black that forced him to sit up and shove his curtains aside. He couldn't - wouldn't - sit back and pretend that he knew nothing of the future when there was an unchecked murderer on the loose. Maybe Black hadn't been Voldemort's right-hand man in seventh year, maybe the traitorous madness hadn't really set in until after graduation. But now Black was an adult just like he was, a Death Eater and prisoner of Azkaban, and he was running loose in the halls of the school. None of the students or professors knew the threat that Black could be.

Should Remus turn him in? Surely Albus or Minerva would believe him if he told them the truth. But then what? How would the Headmaster and Deputy Headmistress react to the news that they had been idiots and gotten themselves stuck back in time? Remus had spent his first few months as a professor terrified that Albus and Minerva would call him out, realizing that they had made a mistake in hiring him. He worried it was only a matter of time before they realized how unwise it was to employ a poor, friendless werewolf. Shame and fear gripped him when he thought about their reactions to the idiotic loyalty ritual.

Remus wouldn't go to them - yet. But he needed to keep an eye on Black, and make sure he didn't try anything. If he did, and Remus caught him red-handed, then maybe the professors would see what an evil madman he was and throw him back in Azkaban without ever having to know the full truth.

Remus surveyed the room, but Black wasn't there. Neither was James, he realized. He hoped that James hadn't gone to try and talk to Black - there was nothing good that could come from that.

Peter's curtains were still drawn, and Remus crept toward his bed. He reached out and moved the curtains, just an inch, and saw his once-murdered friend laying under the covers. Peter blinked his eyes open from the sunlight coming into his bed. "Remus?" he asked.

Remus let the curtains fall shut, giving his friend his privacy. "Yeah Peter, it's me. Do you want to go to breakfast?"

Peter agreed, and in about ten minutes they were both dressed and ready for the day.

"What are you l-looking for, Mo-Moony?" Peter stammered as Remus circled the dormitory like a vulture, inspecting James' and Sirius' beds.

Remus stopped, holding Sirius' pillow in his hands. "I'm looking for the Map. Do you have it?"

Peter shook his head slowly. "I think James does."

That wasn't ideal, since Remus wanted to be keeping an eye on Black now, but at least Black himself didn't have the Map. Remus would be constantly fearing for his life if that was the case.

"Oh. Do you know where James is?"

"I th-think he went down to breakfast already."

Remus nodded. He could ask James for the Map as soon as they got there.

The two set out from their dormitory, down the spiral staircase, through the portrait hole, and into the corridors of Hogwarts. The castle hadn't changed at all in sixteen years (unless you counted the staircases and statues that moved on a daily basis), and Remus could have easily forgotten that it wasn't still 1993. He didn't want to, though, not with Peter beside him, alive again. No, he would take life as a seventeen year old any day if it meant his friends were alive again. It was even worth dealing with Black.

"How do you feel about all this, Peter?" he asked as they passed a statue of a troll on the fourth floor. That statue was gone by 1993 - it was gone by the time they graduated, actually, because James and Sirius had blown it up in one of their spectacularly failed pranks before the end of seventh year. Would it ever get blown up, now? Remus certainly didn't want James cohorting with Black on any sort of schemes. Black was probably unlikely to participate in any pranks that didn't kill someone, anyway…

Peter had been quiet - deadly quiet, although Remus refused to let himself use that description - the entire way from Gryffindor Tower. He understood his friend, to some extent, but he also wanted him to say something. Otherwise he would have to assume that Peter was completely traumatized.

"I dunno," the boy said, shrugging. He had his arms cradled protectively against his stomach, scratching absentmindedly at his left wrist. "It's scary."

Remus nodded. That was one way of putting it.

"I'm sorry about this," he said sincerely. "I'm glad that you're alive, but if I could have saved you and James from having to deal with this, I would have."

Peter stared straight ahead as they walked. "It-it's Sirius' fault, isn't it? It's not yours."

Remus raked a hand across his forehead. "Yes." He was glad that Peter, at least, believed him enough to stay away from Black. James was more likely to attempt to reform the murderer. "But it's still my fault, too. The ritual said that we all had to wish demise on each other, so…I guess that Black couldn't trigger this on his own."

In no way did he blame himself for holding a grudge - if Black hadn't done what he had done, then Remus would have had no reason to wish for his demise in the first place. But he had been doing some thinking, about why the ritual was triggered in 1993 and not 1981. If they all had to wish demise on one another, then maybe Black's intent to betray the Potters hadn't been enough. Remus had certainly hated the man, then, as soon as he heard the news, but he saw Azkaban as a fair punishment. It was only after Black escaped that Remus had actively wished for the man to die or be Kissed. So maybe it had, in some ways, been Remus' own wishes that triggered the ritual.

"You-you wished demise on us?" Peter asked, darting his wide, scared eyes over to Remus. "I mean, on Sirius?"

Remus let out a long breath. "Of course I did. Look, Peter, you weren't there. You can't know how badly he betrayed us. I had just spent years alone, you and James and Lily were dead, and it was all his fault. Then - then -" Remus paused for a moment, trying to get his breathing under control. He had spent years learning to carefully bury his feelings, his anger, his grief, but all of that was bursting to the surface now. It was hard to ignore his memories when he was living with them.

"Then," he said, his voice gruff. "Then he escaped Azkaban, and came after us. He came after Harry. I thought it was over. My life was finally looking up. Then he had to go ruin everything again. As long as he was running free, I could never have any sort of peace. And Harry, you should've seen him - he's terrified. He doesn't even know that Black is his godfather, and he's terrified that he's coming after him. Black already took so much away from that kid, I can't let him take away his peace of mind, too."

He let his words dissipate into the chilly corridor air. His breathing slowed to its normal rate, and he started to walk again. Peter walked alongside him, still not making eye contact.

"So - so, you met Harry?" Peter asked after a minute of silence.

Remus nodded. For the first time, he let himself smile. "I wish you could have met him, Peter. He's a great kid."

"I'm sure he is," siad Peter. "Can - can you tell me about him?"

Remus thought the request was odd. It wouldn't surprise him in the least bit, if it were coming from James, but from Peter? Maybe Peter was curious, though. He had a right to ask questions about James' future son.

"Sure," he started. "Although can it wait until we're in the Great Hall? I'm sure James wants to know more, too."

Peter nodded his agreement, and the rest of the walk was spent in silence.

The Great Hall was no less spectacular than it had been in 1993, and Remus had to stop himself before he headed straight up to take his seat at the head table. But no, Professor Decessor - a rather wispy witch who he barely remembered from the year she taught Defense - was in his usual seat. Attending Defense class would be beyond odd, he realized. He wasn't sure how long it would take him to remember that he was no longer a professor.

The truth was, he saw no way that he should ever get back to the future. It wasn't like going to Dumbledore or McGonagall would help any. There was a very specific way to undo the effects of this ritual, and there was no way that Remus was ever going to be able to forgive and make amends with Black. Which meant that, for better or for worse, he was stuck here. Maybe he would get the Defense job again, a few years from now, but there was no point in mourning what little he had left behind. The future was largely unknown to him. He knew, without a doubt, that he wasn't going to let James, Lily, and Peter die, and who knew how much that would change the future?

The idea of changing history should terrify him. But how could it, when his future was already a nightmare?

"Hi, James!" Peter said, a little bit too chipperly, pulling Remus back to the present. Peter stopped halfway down the Gryffindor table and slid into the seat across from James, leaving the space next to him for Remus. Black was nowhere in sight. Good.

"Hi," James greeted, his voice wary. He was stooped over, looking down at the Marauder's Map, which he didn't seem concerned about hiding. A plate of untouched toast sat on the table in front of him, but James seemed to have forgotten it even existed. He obviously hadn't gotten a wink of sleep, if the bags under his eyes said anything, and he didn't seem all that cheerful about his friends' arrival.

Guilt twisted in Remus' stomach, and he made a vow to cheer James up. He would do everything in his power to make sure that James and Peter had a normal, fun seventh year - after he took care of Black.

"Where is he?" Remus asked James, his voice tighter than he intended.

James peered across the table at him. "Why do you want to know?"

Remus raised an eyebrow. "Because I want to protect the students from the murderer who's loose in the building?"

"First of all, you're a student, too." James wiped the Map and folded it up quickly before Remus could get a hold of it. "Second of all, don't call him that."

"That's what he is."

"The entire school doesn't have to know that," James replied levelly.

He had a point, Remus conceded. When he took care of Black, he needed to do it subtly enough to not send the student body into mass panic.

"So, did you go talk to him?" Remus asked, fighting down dread as James tucked the Map into his cloak.

James took his time rearranging the folds of his cloak, then drew his plate of cold toast to himself before answering. "No. I didn't."

A wave of relief washed over Remus. "Good."

"Is it?" asked James.

Remus frowned. "Yes. It is."

"I was going to go talk to him," said James. "I promised him I would in the morning. But I guess I just…came here instead."

"It's fine if you're scared of him, James. It's healthy, actually." Remus reached for the serving dish of bacon, his stomach finally settling enough to eat. "You should both stay away from him whenever it's possible."

James' expression was firm. "He's my friend, Moony."

"No, he's your murderer. It would probably be better if you stop thinking of him as a friend at all."

James leapt to his feet. "How am I supposed to do that?"

Remus frowned, watching the wild, confused expression on James' face. He knew that feeling - the feeling of betrayal, doubt, denial. He had gone through it all, too, twelve years before. He needed to give James some space, some distance, to process it all.

"Sorry," he muttered.

James sighed and sat back down. "It's okay."

"Can we talk about something else?" Peter suggested quietly. "Like Harry?"

James' mood shifted instantly. "Harry?"

Remus scanned the rest of the Great Hall, wary of being overheard. It was still early enough that the Gryffindor table was mostly empty, and the other tables were sparsely occupied, too. He kept his voice low, but didn't see the harm in divulging the future a bit.

"Like I said, I didn't know him until this year, but he's a brilliant boy. Reminds me of Lily, more than you, James."

The corner of James' mouth lifted in a smile. "If he's anything like Lily, he's perfect."

Remus nodded. "He gets his kindness from her. His looks are from you, though. And he doesn't pull pranks, but he gets into his fair share of trouble, if the other professors are telling the truth."

James laughed, while Peter listened intently. But James' face quickly fell. "If Lily and I…if we died, then who raised him?"

Remus didn't know all the details, but the ones he did know probably weren't what James wanted to hear. "He was raised by muggles, I believe. Some distant relatives."

James frowned. "They must be on Lily's side. Was it her parents?"

Remus was fairly sure that Harry had been raised by his aunt and uncle, but he remembered Lily's parents being the kindest of her relatives, so he let James go on thinking that. "I'm not entirely sure, but it might have been. He stayed away from the Wizarding World until he started at Hogwarts, but he's made some amazing friends already. The Weasley family in particular - you know Arthur and Molly, don't you? - they've nearly adopted him. He's good friends with their youngest."

James frowned thoughtfully. "Isn't their youngest a good bit older than him, though? Percy, isn't it?"

Remus stared for a minute, confused. Then he burst out laughing, thinking of the rather strict head boy. "Oh, no. He's not friends with Percy. He's friends with Ron, who's the same age as him."

"They have another kid?" James asked. His old familiar humor, the kind that Remus had missed so much, was showing on his face, and Remus didn't regret for an instant divulging some of this future knowledge to him, whether or not it was a wise idea.

"Four more, actually." Remus grinned. "Wonderful family, you know."

James blinked, but then laughed. "What do you think about that, Peter?"

Peter, who had been hunched over his own plate of breakfast, jumped rather dramatically. "What? Oh…wow. That's surprising."

Remus and James exchanged a concerned look. Remus supposed it was too much to ask that both of his seventeen year old friends would be so easy to cheer up.

"And you said that Harry's friends with their youngest? Is he a good kid?" James asked.

Remus nodded. "Ron's a good kid, and a great friend, from what I can tell. You'd really love Fred and George, though. They're about two years older, but they're the reigning pranksters of Hogwarts in their day."

James clapped his hands together, delighted. "Someone carried on our legacy!" But his happiness was tinted with remorse, because he, like Remus, had realized that the Marauder's days of mischief were probably over.

"They did. And they may even have us beat."

"No way," said James, playful challenge glinting in his eyes. "Wait 'til I tell Sir-"

He shut his mouth. Awkward silence hung over the table.

Peter looked up from his plate, swallowing nervously. "Tell us more about their pranks, Remus. I-I bet that Harry and Ron and Hermione loved them."

Remus felt his shoulders untense. "Harry and Ron did. Hermione hated them, though. She's on track to be a prefect, and I bet that she'll do her best to report them every single -"

He froze.

James was looking between the two of them, confused. "Who's Hermione? It sounds like you and she would get along, Moony."

"She's one of Harry's friends," said Peter quickly. But then his expression changed, and he busied himself with his eggs. "Like you said, Remus."

Remus was staring at Peter, now, but he wasn't really seeing him. "I didn't mention Hermione," he said slowly, pronouncing each syllable. "Did I?"

Peter's shoulders went rigid, but he nodded rapidly. "You did. Of course you did. How else would I know who Hermione is?"

James was frowning, utterly confused. "I didn't hear you mention anyone named Hermione, Remus."

"He must've mentioned her earlier. When we were walking to breakfast. Right, Remus?"

Was it? But no, Remus' memory was better than that. "I didn't tell you anything about Harry or his friends on the way down here."

"Yes, you did!" Peter had abandoned his food. His hands were shaking, and he cradled them to his chest, flexing his pointer finger as though he had never had one before. "I asked you to!"

"You asked me to," repeated Remus. "But I said we could wait until we got down here."

"No…no. You told me about Hermione. How else would I know about Hermione?"

James' eyes were wide. "What's going on?"

Sirius' words from the night before were running through Remus' head. Peter was alive…Peter had been the real traitor…Peter had faked his own death…

The news report from November 1, 1981 would be forever seared into Remus' mind. It had been since the very first time he read it, but he had forced himself to read it again and again over the years, keeping a yellowed copy tucked into his trunk. Peter Pettigrew had cornered Sirius Black on a street full of muggles and tried to challenge him. Peter had loudly accused him of betraying James and Lily, loud enough for all the witnesses to hear. Black had shot a blasting curse at him, and it blew up the entire street, killing all those muggles, along with Peter. For years, Remus had marveled at his friend's bravery as he mourned him. Peter wasn't the bravest one of their group, by far. Remus would never have expected him to single-handedly challenge Black. He was quiet, too, and soft spoken. Remus had always thought that Peter must have been really, truly angry to scream out his accusations loud enough for an entire crowd to hear.

There was a photo, too, in the news report. It moved, as all wizarding photographs did, and the image of confused muggles, stumbling out of the rubble in confusion, was seared into his brain as much as the image of those muggles who laid absolutely still. The most vivid part of the image, though, was the swirling, hectic movement of rats, swarming over the rubble. The curse had blown up a gutter, which had been full of them, apparently, and the hordes of rats had only added to the chaos and confusion of the scene.

He had attended James and Lily's funeral, alone, three days after Halloween. There had never been a real funeral for Peter, though, only a small memorial service where the Ministry awarded his mother with the Order of Merlin. They had never recovered Peter's body. The report said that Black's blasting spell was responsible.

Remus stared at Peter. What if the news report had been wrong?

"What's happening?" asked James. "Remus, why do you look like you want to murder him?"

"How," Remus started, his voice dangerously low as he looked at Peter. "How do you know about Hermione?"

"You told me, Moony! You told me!"

"No, I didn't." Peter wasn't making eye contact. He was refusing to. Instead he was still flexing his fingers against his chest, his chin tucked down. A cowardly stance. The posture of someone who was keeping a secret. A surge of anger rushed through Remus. He grabbed Peter's wrist and yanked it toward him, needing his friend to make eye contact with him. Surely this was a misunderstanding, but he couldn't convince himself until Peter looked at him -

Peter squeaked. Remus kept a tight grip on his friend's wrist, forcing Peter to unfurl from his fetal position. Peter's head shot up, his eyes wild and terrified, and he nearly toppled backward in his seat.

The sleeve of Peter's robe slipped down to his elbow. Which was the moment that, for the first time in Remus' life, he saw the Dark Mark on the arm of one of his best friends.

James took a sharp breath. "Peter?"

Remus' nails dug into Peter's wrist.

In an instant, Peter's wand was out. He held it in his free hand, pointing it directly between Remus' eyes. His hand was shaking violently. "Let go of me."

James tried to pull out his wand, but he hadn't lived through a war yet, not really. The war had brewed during their years at Hogwarts, and it had started in earnest by the beginning of their seventh year. But James hadn't been inducted into the Order yet. He had been allowed to be a kid, for a few more months at least.

Remus' wand was in his pocket, but he didn't dare pull it out. Peter was the most cowardly of all of them, and had struggled to keep up in classes, but he was quick with his wand. He wasn't as good with complex spells, like James and Sirius were, and he didn't have Remus' study skills, but when he mastered a simple spell, he mastered it, and Remus had no doubt that he could do some damage if he wanted to.

If Peter had been lying about being from the future - if he had faked his death back in 1981 - if he was a Death Eater -

Then Remus had no clue how much his so-called friend was actually capable of.

His grip on Peter's wrist went slack. It wasn't surrender that caused him to let Peter go so much as shock. He was afraid that Peter might murder him, right here in the Great Hall, and he didn't dare look to see if James had gotten a hold of his wand. What if James attacked Peter? What if Peter killed him? What if James died four years early?

But Peter backed away from the bench, keeping his wand trained between Remus' eyes. Then he turned on his heel, yanked his sleeve back down over his arm, and took off running for the door.

A/N: Thanks for reading! Sorry for how very long that wait was. Inspiration struck (coupled with free time and boredom), so I am finally able to get more work done on this story.

I have recently had some issues with getting this site to load. I went for about two weeks straight where I couldn't access it at all! Because of that, I have created an account on ao3 as well. It's under the same username, and as of now has all the same stories and update status. Ao3 will be my primary posting site from now on, so if you don't want to miss any updates on this fic, I suggest heading that way! I will post updates here when I can, but at the moment ao3 seems to be the more reliable option. If anyone else has had a similar issue with this site and knows how to fix it, I will happily take advice!

Happy reading!