Mischief Managed

Remus Lupin woke up naked and cold on the floor of the Shrieking Shack, as he had countless times before. Through a haze of pain and exhaustion, he struggled to remember who he was and why he was in such a deplorable state. It took a few moments for his mind to return to him completely and, when it did return, all of the disappointing answers to his questions came with it.

It sucked to be a werewolf. He corrected himself; it sucked to be an adult werewolf. The condition was fairly tolerable when he was a student. Moony had grand adventures with Padfoot, Prongs and Wormtail. And Poppy, God bless her, somehow always made sure he woke up in a warm bed with a hot breakfast.

Those were the days.

He wasn't a student anymore, and hadn't been for a very long time. There were no more adventures, no warm bed, and certainly no hot breakfast. The only thing that remained from his youth was the Shrieking Shack.

The Shack wasn't much. It was dreadfully hot in the summer, and drafty in the winter. It was dirty and dilapidated and he was grateful for it. Werewolves who didn't have a safe place to lock themselves up eventually met the sharp end of Walden Macnair's axe. Remus didn't have much of a life, but at least he was alive, which was more than could be said for most others with his affliction. Losing the use of the Shrieking Shack would be a disaster.

His fatigued body protested as he brought himself to a stand and began his post-transformation routine. His first few steps were awkward, as his body adjusted to walking on two legs again. He lifted the floorboard in the corner and retrieved his clothing, his wand, and a small tin that contained tea, some sugar and a few stale biscuits. After dressing as quickly as his aching muscles would allow, he set about preparing his sparse breakfast.

While waiting for his tea water to boil, he stared into the flames, deep in thought. Something was wrong. He'd felt it for the last few months. There was something about the Shack that was different. Try as he might, he simply couldn't trace the source of his discomfort.

The sound of footsteps interrupted his reverie. There was no time to clear away the evidence of his presence so, with his wand ready, he retreated to a dark corner of the room as the intruders entered the Shack. He lowered his wand and heaved a sigh of relief at the sight of two identical freckled, redheads.

Weasleys. They had to be Weasleys. And from the smell of them, they were the source of the vague discomfort he'd been feeling for the last several months. They must have been using the Shack. Remus shuddered when he thought about what could have happened if the children had stumbled upon him during the full moon. He had two choices; he could stop using the Shack or he could reveal his secret to the boys. He grudgingly resigned himself to the latter.

He was impressed when the twins had the good sense to try to stun him when he emerged from the shadows. He was disappointed with their dreadful inability to do so. The rumors he heard about one terrible Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher after another in recent years must be true, he thought. Speaking softly, he introduced himself to the frightened boys. He was shocked when the redheads broke out into broad smiles at the mention of his name.

"Remus Lupin! The Remus Lupin? You're a legend!" one of the boys said with awe.

"It is you! I recognize you from your picture on Filch's wall. You, Sirius Black, James Potter, and some Peter fellow are all tied for first place on Filch's "students to hang by their thumbs" list. We haven't even managed to crack the top ten yet," said the other boy.

"It's really is you," the first boy repeated, taking a critical look at Remus. "If you don't mind me saying, I'd have expected a trouble making genius like yourself to be faring a bit better."

Remus sighed regretfully and shrugged, "There's a reason for my sorry state of affairs." He confessed to the boys that he was a werewolf and explained the danger of coming to the Shrieking Shack during a full moon. He braced himself for the disappointment of going from legend to leper in a few short moments.

The twins looked at him suspiciously and eyed his meager breakfast. They whispered a few words to each other and said their good byes as they backed out of the Shack.

Remus wasn't surprised by their reaction, or even disappointed. On the contrary, he was pleased that they didn't run from the room, screaming threats about calling the Ministry to pick him up and have him disposed of. Polite rejection was as close to acceptance as he had experienced in a very long time.

He fixed his tea and was just beginning to eat when he heard people approaching the Shack again. He supposed they turned him in after all. He gathered his few possessions quickly and prepared to Apperate. His transformations weakened him, and he prayed that he wouldn't splinch.

"Be a sport and open the door, will you? Our hands are full," one of the boys called from outside. Curious, Remus complied. The twins pushed past him and began to unload their burden on the floor. Remus was speechless as the boys laid out fruit, bacon, sausages, and flasks of pumpkin juice. It was more food than he'd seen in a month.

"Here, this is for you. Nicked it from Snape." one of the boys said, handing him a flask. "We don't touch the stuff, but you're old. We figured you'd want it."

Coffee. They'd brought him coffee. He hadn't tasted coffee in two years.

Remus didn't know who enjoyed the breakfast more. They ate and talked for hours, exchanging stories of Hogwarts mischief, past and present. They talked about Quidditch and the relative merits of Gryffindor girls versus all others. Remus disappointed the boys when he informed them that the rumors of Sirius Black finding a way to enter the girl's dormitory were completely unfounded. Their disappointment was lifted when he told them about the secret passage to Hogsmeade. It was the best breakfast Remus had eaten since he was a student. Perhaps the best breakfast he had ever eaten.

The time soon came to part company. Remus wanted to repay the boys for making him feel like a student again, if only for an hour or so. He smiled when the perfect solution came to him. He thanked the boys for the food and for their company, and told them that if they should happen to find an old blank parchment in Filch's office, they should tap it with their wands and say the words, I solemnly swear I am up to no good. He promised they would be happy with the results.

Remus never returned to the Shrieking Shack to transform again. He knew the twins were curious and impulsive, and worried that they would succumb to the urge to see a fully transformed werewolf. The inconvenience of having to find a new place to lock himself up was a small price to pay for the bittersweet opportunity to be a Marauder one last time.