A/N: I don't own Harry Potter. Number five of the Christmas fics!

Career advice had always been something of a sticking point for the Marauders. James had parents who would support anything he did, Sirius's parents would support nothing he did, and Remus's parental situation was never really his biggest issue. Peter, unlike James, needed to work, but he preferred to stick with the others instead of branching out on his own.

The solution, James decided, was self-employment. He and Sirius could provide the start-up funds, and they would start a business in Diagon Alley.

Peter was enthusiastically in favor of the idea. Remus was a bit more skeptical.

"What sort of business?"

Sirius leaned back in his chair, grinning. "Why, Moony, I'm surprised at you. Evans used to call us children, didn't she? We'll start a toy shop."

James latched onto the idea. "I like it."

Moony's eyes had gone calculating. "We've got about a year left. It'd be a lot of work."

"Yeah, because we've never done that before, have we, Prongs?" Sirius said pointedly.

"It'll be a novel experience," James said solemnly.

Remus's lips twitched, but he pressed on. "Are you sure you want to start a business in the middle of a war?"

"We could put defensive spells on the toys," James suggested.

Sirius nodded approvingly. "Protect the little tykes. I like it."

And it would ensure Remus got a job, but he wasn't stupid enough to say that.

The Marauders gleamed in golden letters above the display in the shop windows. Trading cards with dueling statistics illustrated by James enacted a battle midair, complete with snappy banter. A stuffed wolf and dog played at fighting under a sign that advertised the defensive spells on them, courtesy of Sirius. A Bertie Botts Every Flavor Bean Sorter (Tell Your Earwax from your Toffee!) sorted piles into "safe" and "unsafe" as per Remus's invention. A hundred other toys crowded the shelves, all carefully accounted for by the ledger Peter carefully kept.

It was, in James's mind, perfect. The crowning moment was when he discovered that in nine months, they were going to have a test subject.

"Our baby is not a test subject!"

"But think of how much fun she'll have! Or he."

Lily groaned, but she was also smiling.

On Halloween night when Remus went under, the shop was owned by four people with four equal shares.

When he woke up, James's share had been passed down to Harry, Sirius still owned his but would be unable to work for it, and Peter's share had gone to his mother. She didn't want it.

Remus was now one third owner of a shop that only he was left to run.

He focused on that part because the rest would drive him mad.

"Ah, Mrs. Dursley. May I come in?"

Petunia blinked at him, but Remus remembered LIly's rants all too well. He was dressed in a proper Muggle suit.

"I'm Remus Lupin," he explained. "I've come about your nephew's inheritance."

"Inheritance?" she said blankly. "My - nephew?" She glanced around the street nervously. "Well, come in quickly, then, before anyone sees you."

He stepped inside. "How is Harry?"

"He's fine," she said sharply. "Now what's this about an inheritance?"

"Harry's inherited his father's share of the business," Lupin explained. "Legally speaking, that means I'm required to give him monthly updates as to how it's doing. Naturally, as his guardian, you're welcome to listen and - "

"Monthly?" she squawked. "You're going to be coming monthly? Couldn't you just send a letter?"

He could, but this was the only way he'd get to see Harry.

"If you'd prefer to come by the shop . . . "

"No!" She chewed her lip furiously. "He's in there," she said, jerking her head towards the living room. "I'm far too busy to deal with this, so you'll have to handle him on your own."

"Delightful woman," he murmured to himself as she walked away. He hurried into the living room where Harry sat sniffling in a playpen. He brightened immediately when he saw his visitor.

"Unca Moony!"

Lupin lifted him out of the playpen and held him tight. Harry snuggled closer.

"Hello, Harry. I brought some toys for you to try out."

At this point, Remus was living for Harry and for the shop. Unfortunately, he needed help with both.

Hiring shop assistants who didn't know his secret was nerve-racking. Talking to Dumbledore was unexpectedly frustrating.

"They're not treating him right."

Dumbledore's eyes twinkled benignly. "Harry will be safe there."

Legally speaking, Remus couldn't do much without more than the word of a werewolf to go on. So he gave Harry a small stuffed fawn and told him to hold onto it whenever he got scared. It was loaded with every defensive spell he could think of.

When he next saw Harry, there wasn't a mark on him, but the toy had been thrown out.

Two things happened as Harry got older. One was that the Wolfsbane Potion was invented.

That led to the second thing, which started when the Dursleys were going on holiday and were reluctant to take Harry along. Remus immediately volunteered to look out for him, even without knowing the dates.

Naturally, with his luck, the last night of the trip was a full moon.

Before, he would have had to back out despite what that would do to Harry, but the shop was a resounding success. He was able to afford and had been using the potion. Harry would understand if he was tired.

He kept him the whole week. After that, he became the go to watcher for Harry, an arrangement that suited everyone perfectly.

"Lizzy, have you ever noticed how the boss is always gone when there's a full moon?"

"Do you like your job?"

"Er, yes?"

"Good. No, I haven't noticed anything. And you haven't either."

When the first Hogwarts letter arrived, Harry knew full well what it was. He stuck it into the band of his jeans and waited until he was in his bedroom to open it.

Excitement bubbled up in him. Uncle Remus had said this was coming, but he hadn't quite dared hope . . .

It would mean he couldn't see his uncle as often, but he was sure he would get letters from him, and maybe he could even stay the holidays with him in the apartment over his shop.

This was going to be great.

Hogwarts had sent Hagrid to take him to Dragon Alley, apparently unaware that Harry could have just used one of his visits with Uncle Remus to do the shopping.

That was alright, though, that just meant he got to surprise him, and Uncle Remus needed more good surprises in his life.

Harry wound his way through the crowded shop to the workshop in the back. "Uncle Remus?"

The man looked up from a doll of Morgan le Fay he was carefully painting. A wide smile broke across his face. "Harry! Come in. I've got your birthday present."

Uncle Remus's presents were always far superior to the Dursleys, even if Harry had to hide them. This one, a beautifully painted box of art supplies, was no exception.

"I thought maybe you could use these to stay in practice at school. I know how much you enjoy it, and you've gotten very good."

Harry grinned at him. "Thanks. Not quite as good as Dad, though. I've still got a ways to go to make him proud."

"Oh, Harry." Uncle Remus hugged him tightly. "I'm quite sure you already have."

Dear Headmaster,

I know schools of magic will always have a certain inherent danger. I don't blame you for the troll incident or for Harry's near injuries in Quidditch.

But what on earth were you thinking, encouraging him to go after the stone?

Sincerely,

Remus Lupin

P.S. I also have growing concerns about your hiring practices.

Dear Headmaster,

Snape's bullying of the students is concerning. Quirrell's possession was - Frankly, I don't have words for that.

But Lockhart? A criminal fraud who tried to obliviate two of the students?

I've always been grateful to you, and I always will be, but that gratitude does not extend to being silent while you put students at risk.

Sincerely,

Remus Lupin

Dear Headmaster,

Complaining about your Defense Against the Dark Arts professors does not constitute writing an application. In case you haven't noticed, I already have a job.

Very sincerely,

Remus Lupin

When Harry had fled from the incident with Aunt Marge, he had known just where to run to. He just hadn't expected Uncle Remus to be so worried.

"Promise me you'll be careful, Harry," he said hoarsely, gripping Harry's arms tightly.

"Okay," he said, bewildered. "What's going on?"

Uncle Remus looked very pale. "There are some things you need to know about Sirius Black."

When Sirius remained on the loose and Harry reported seeing a dog that might be Padfoot, Remus knew he could wait no longer. He went to the castle to tell Dumbledore the truth.

He was sidetracked by the sight of Harry and Hermione slipping off the cloak and entering the tree.

From there, things went as they were fated to do.

A black dog slipped in the back door of the shop and padded into the workshop before turning into a man.

"It's been a long time," Sirius said hoarsely, looking around. He was drawn to a stack of trading cards with designs he didn't recognize.

"Harry drew those," Remus said quietly.

"He's good."

"Very good," Remus agreed. "Give it a year, and he'll be able to do James's old job."

The old grief, still raw, flashed across Sirius's face. "I'm going abroad," he said abruptly. "I need to draw the dementors away from Harry." He tried to smile. "I'll write. Maybe I can send you some ideas."

"I could use them." It had always been James and Sirius who came up with the flashy ideas. "We will keep a lawyer for the shop. I'll have him look into your case."

Hope warred with caution. "It's a risk," he warned. "If people find out . . . "

"Because I've never kept a secret before, Padfoot," he said dryly.

Sirius grinned. Not quite his old, boyish grin, but close enough. "See you soon, then, Moony."

Remus smiled. "See you soon."

Dear Headmaster,

You had better pray Harry survives this tournament of yours.

Sincerely,

Remus Lupin

Dear Headmaster,

As a newly acquitted man, I will be taking custody of my godson whether you like it or not. I don't care what your objections are.

Very sincerely,

Sirius Black

Daily Prophet. 12 June.

" . . . the young star seems to be going the way of Harry Potter, desperately clutching at fame . . . "

Daily Prophet. 18 June.

" . . . the suspicious death of one contestant, perhaps at the hands of a famous other . . . "

Dear Daily Prophet,

We are ready and willing to sue for libel.

Very sincerely,

Mr. Black and Mr. Lupin

Daily Prophet. 25 June.

"We would like to issue a public retraction and apology . . . "

Dear Harry,

Umbridge. They hired Umbridge? That little toad of a -

This is Remus now. Sirius is very, uh, passionate on the subject. She was rather a pain at the trial, you'll remember, and they have opposing views on werewolf rights.

Are you sure you're okay, Harry? I swear I could smell a bit of blood on your last letter.

You know you can tell us anything, right?

- Moony and Padfoot

Dear Moony and Padfoot,

Promise you won't overreact?

- Harry

"I'm going to kill her."

"Sirius, I think that's what Harry meant by overreacting."

"I'm getting her sent to Azkaban."

"Better. But for that, we're going to need proof."

Official Complaint Form

Filed: 12 November

Against: Hogwarts High Inquisitor Dolores Umbridge

Daily Prophet. 31 October.

TOY STORE OWNER REVEALED AS WEREWOLF

Are Your Children Safe?

"No, they're not safe!" Sirius growled, pacing furiously in the workshop. "Voldemort's loose, and that woman's torturing them!"

Harry's face was pinched miserably in the connected mirror they'd sent him. "I'm sorry," he blurted out. "Umbridge all but said the Ministry leaked it because of the complain over my stupid hand - "

"Harry, none of this is your fault." Remus's face might be pale, but his voice was calm. "I made my own choices, and I don't regret them. I'll resign, naturally - "

Sirius whirled on him. "Oh, no, you won't."

"No one will want to buy from a werewolf."

"So what? We've got enough to keep this thing running for the rest of our lives without ever selling another toy."

"What would be the point?" Remus asked wearily.

"Spite," Sirius said flatly. "Which I assure you, I have plenty of."

Harry nodded. "We can't let her win."

"Exactly." Sirius resumed pacing. "Which is why we're not just going to stay open, we're going to have the best Christmas sales season we've ever had. Harry, get the Weasley twins. I've got a plan."

Ella Plumm was the newest reporter for the Prophet's business section which meant she got the worst assignments. She certainly wasn't excepting to get get to pursue the toy shop scandal.

Right up until she got the note.

Dear Miss Plumm,

As you know, our store has so far declined comment on recent events. We have been so impressed by your work, however, that we have decided that we are willing to offer you an exclusive interview. Say, two o'clock tomorrow?

- The Marauders

The Daily Prophet. 2 December.

From the moment the charming Mr. Black meets me at the door for a tour of his shop, this interview is nothing like what I expected.

He talks easily and confidently about the precautions Mr. Lupin takes - all full moons off and copious amounts of Wolfsbane potion - but he seems almost bored by the topic.

"It's just part of life," he explains with a shrug. "But honestly, I think Moony's health problems are the least interesting news from the shop right now. Let me show you what we've been working on."

He leads me back into the workshop where I immediately encounter a wonderland. Stunning dueling cards designed by the Boy-Who-Lived himself dance in the air. Dolls the morph from animal to human and back transform at a word from their creator.

And in the center of the workspace, a dollhouse unlike any other: a replica of Hogwarts, complete with moving staircases, hidden doors, and filmy replicas of ghosts.

Mr. Lupin looks up from this masterpiece as we enter. He greets us with a tired smile. "The replication charm we modified seems to be holding. It's ready to hit the shelves."

The same, I learn, is true of everything back there. The Christmas lineup looks spectacular, and the treats they have laid out only complete the impression.

Mr. Black grins boyishly when I point them out. "Now that might be our biggest news of the season. You're looking at some of the fine products of Weasley's Wizard Wheezes, who we are proud to announce our partnership with. We'll be expanding into Hogsmeade next year where our two newest partners will be running things. In the meantime, we're enthusiastic about adding their line of joke products to our store."

I have to admit, I'm feeling rather enthusiastic myself.

The goal of the aggressive advertising campaign Sirius insisted on was, as he saw it, to make the toys so irresistible that kids would badger their parents into buying them, werewolf or no werewolf. It seemed to be succeeding, but parents weren't the only ones in the store.

"Wotcher, Sirius! Is Remus here?"

Sirius grinned. "He's hiding in the back. Come on."

Tonks followed him into the workshop. Remus swallowed when he saw her. "Tonks."

"Yep." She stepped overly carefully around the dollhouses before perching on one of the chairs. "So that's your big secret, huh? The one that you wouldn't go out with me over until I knew?"

He closed his eyes. "Yes."

"Well, I know now," she prompted.

When Remus didn't say anything, Sirius stepped in. "That's your cue to ask the lady to supper, Moony." When Remus just continued to gape at both of them, Sirius sighed and turned apologetically to Tonks. "He'll see you at six."

"Sirius? Sirius, are you there?" Harry sounded frantic.

Sirius was there immediately. "What happened?" When he heard about the vision, he shot a look at Remus. "He's trying to lure Harry in."

"But if the Order was there instead . . . "

Sirius grinned fiercely. "Ambush."

"Ow."

"Sirius, stop being such a big baby. It's just a cut. It could have been a lot worse. Besides, they know Voldemort's out there now. I think that's worth a cut."

"And we got Umbridge fired," Harry pointed out. "That was worth it, wasn't it?"

Sirius grinned. "Absolutely worth it."

Notes:

I considered extending this. I've got this really clear vision of kids being protected from Death Eaters thanks to their toys and of the Death Eaters attacking the toy store in an attempt to take down the Marauders and being absolutely CREAMED by the toys that come to life as soon as they enter the door.

But I'm writing these on a schedule, and I didn't have time to make it much longer.

On the small changes in the fic: Harry has a bedroom already because with Lupin dropping in, the Dursleys didn't dare do otherwise. Tonks doesn't know about Lupin's "furry little problem" before because I figure that the reason she knew the first time was that Snape's big secret drop got around. That never happened here.

I decided James could draw on the admittedly slim evidence of him drawing a snitch with Lily's initials on it in OotP.