Remus Lupin awoke with a groan. The groan was only partially due to the headache that frequently came on in the last couple of days before the full moon. Mostly, it was due to the smell. He knew that smell. It was the smell of Doom.

Sure enough, when he cracked an eyelid experimentally, there was Sirius, sitting at the foot of his bed, grinning at him. He closed the eye again and peered at Sirius covertly from beneath his lashes.

"I cannot believe you made that stuff again, Padfoot. After what happened last time -"

"What? It worked great last time!" The grin got wider, and there was a glint in his eye that gave Remus a thrill of both anticipation and bone-deep fear. "At least, I don't recall you complaining. Besides, you said I could have a turn."

Remus rolled his eyes without opening them. "God, Padfoot. You haven't mentioned it in a month! I'd sort of hoped you'd forgotten." He finally opened both eyes to squint at the figure crawling up the bed to snuggle in next to him.

That was a mistake. There, inches from his face, was the most beautiful pair of gray, pleading puppydog eyes it had ever been his distinct pleasure and downfall to view.

"Please?"

Remus's stomach flopped again. Maybe I'm coming down with something, he thought hopefully. Maybe I'm ill and I'll be dead in a few minutes and I won't have to do this. Or maybe it's just the smell.

"C'mon, Padfoot," he begged, snuggling up against the other boy's shoulder. "Can't we do this some other time?"

"Nope!" Sirius declared triumphantly. "It's gotta be today! The potion doesn't keep well, and I only had enough ingredients left over for one more dose. Besides, you're always more - adventurous right before the full moon."

"That is so unfair!" groaned Remus, turning over and burying his face in the pillow, trying to block the horrible smell of the potion from his increasingly-sensitive werewolf nose. "You're taking unfair advantage of my condition! I thought you cared about me," he complained in a pillow-muffled voice.

Sirius yanked the pillow out from under Remus's face, dropped it on top of his head, and sat on it. "Say you'll do it today and I'll let you up!"

"Mmmph! Mmmph!" said Remus, flailing his arms, which Sirius deftly batted aside.

"What was that?" He leaned over and lifted a corner of the pillow far enough to peer into a rumpled, red, and grouchy face.

"I said 'get off my head, you fuckwit,'" Remus replied icily, with amazing composure, given his position.

"Not until I hear an 'mmmph' that sounds more like, 'Why yes, Padfoot, my love! Anything you like!'" Sirius declared, turning the corner of the pillow down again and resettling himself.

"Mmmph! Mmmph!"

Sirius peered beneath the pillow again, eyebrows raised inquiringly.

"I said, 'All right, you fucking poof'."

"Interesting choice of words, considering that I am basically begging you for girl-sex," Sirius mused.

"Look, I agreed, didn't I? Now, will you get off my head?"

Sirius was enjoying this far too much, Remus decided. He had spent most of the morning asking if he could transfigure various items of Remus's wardrobe into frilly frocks and tarty underthings. Remus drew the line when Sirius started talking about changing his favourite pants into lacy, pink knickers.

He managed to escape to the library for a few hours, but only after promising Sirius that he would return to Gryffindor tower after lunch to meet him, at which time they would borrow James's Invisibility Cloak and head down to the Shrieking Shack together. Remus fervently hoped that, in his absence, his exuberant tormenter would accidentally knock over the goblet of potion, but such luck was not to be his.

At lunch, he found he was not hungry at all. It's silly to be nervous, he chided himself. It's not like we haven't done this before. Sort of.

He glanced down the Gryffindor table to where Sirius and James had their heads bent together, laughing about something, and beyond them, he saw Lily. He blushed and looked quickly back at his plate.

She doesn't know, he reminded himself for the hundredth time. Just get over it. She's your friend and she doesn't know. But she'll soon know something's up if you can never look her in the eye again.

James was looking at him speculatively. Remus could see him out of the corner of his eye. He turned back to Sirius and whispered something. They both laughed.

Remus groaned inwardly. He told Prongs. Aren't things like this supposed to be private?

And then he realised. James had looked at him. If Remus had been having trouble meeting Lily's eyes, James had been having even more difficulty looking at him for the past month. If he was suddenly able to do so again, it could mean only one thing: revenge. Remus was in for it.

As soon as they were alone in their own room after lunch, Remus rounded on Sirius.

"Who is it?"

"Who's what?" Sirius asked with his best attempt at innocent blinking. Anyone but Remus might have been fooled.

"Who," he said through gritted teeth. "Are. You. Turning. Me. Into?"

A sweet smile blossomed all over Sirius's face. "Oh, Moony! You're not nervous are you?" His tone seemed to imply that this was the most precious thing he had ever heard. "Not to worry; she's a looker. I promise."

"It's not -?" Remus began, brain suddenly inundated by myriad horrifying possibilities.

"No," Sirius told him firmly. "It is not someone unattractive. It is not a professor. It is not anyone related to me. That I know of," he amended, frowning. "And it is definitely not Evans. It's someone female and pretty and, as I understand it, clever as well. And yes, she's reasonably close to our age. And that's all I'm going to tell you."

"Is it -?"

"No guessing. You'd never guess in a million years, anyway. Well," he added doubtfully, "actually, knowing you, you'd go get some prefects' list with everyone's name on it, and narrow it down methodically. But I'm not telling. You're just going to have to come along and find out!"

"I'm not going until you tell me."

"Moony, you promised!" Sirius gave him his best hurt look - the one Remus knew was fake, but could never resist anyway.

Technically, he had never actually promised anything, but if he tried that excuse, Sirius would say he was just dicing with semantics, a phrase Remus frequently had cause to regret teaching him.

"You told Prongs!" he accused, changing tactics. "You let him choose."

"Well, I had the final say, but I did - consult with him. Oh, c'mon Moony! We owed him one, and you know it! You don't know how close we were to losing him. Believe me; you're getting off light."

"I'm getting off light?!" Remus said indignantly. "It wasn't me that chose Lily for our last 'experiment'!"

"Yeah, well," Sirius replied, not a little smugly, "Prongs isn't going to go through the rest of his life with the image of me and Evans going at it floating around in his brain, now, is he?"

"It's not fair," Remus grumbled.

Sirius relented. "It won't be so bad," he promised. "Prongs wanted to turn you into Snivellus, but I talked him out of it. We agreed on someone who's not too bad, but who will satisfy his sense of outrage. His condition was that you had to drink the potion willingly, without knowing who it was. Then he'll forgive us. I think. Can't you just do this for him? For me?" He fluttered his dark lashes prettily.

"All right," Remus relented at last. "Let's get this over with."

Sirius wrapped his arms around him and squeezed. "Show a little more enthusiasm, Moony. After all, you might even enjoy it!"

Remus doubted it, but refrained from saying so as Sirius threw the Invisibility Cloak over both of them.

The problem with Sirius, Remus decided on the way down the slope towards the Whomping Willow, was that he never knew when to shut up. Throughout the winding corridors and sweeping staircases of the castle, and all the way down the grounds, Sirius had been teasing him mercilessly.

"Moony," he was saying now, mock-sternly, "you've really let yourself go. Why do you never get all tarted up for me anymore? I mean, the least you could have done is put on a nice frock. Or maybe some leather. Would that have been so much to ask?" He glanced speculatively at the silent young werewolf out of the corner of his eye, his wand hand twitching.

"Even think about implementing one of those ideas," Remus hissed through clenched teeth, "and I will, I swear to Godric Gryffindor, tie you up in this fucking cloak and leave you here."

"Tsk, tsk," clucked Sirius, shaking his head. "So moody today! Well, I guess it's to be expected at this time of the month." He stuck his tongue in Remus's ear, causing him to yelp in an entirely undignified way.

"Cut it out, Padfoot. You wanted me to do this, but nothing you've done or said has made me want to do it at all."

Sirius stopped in his tracks, grabbed Remus around the waist, dipped him dramatically over his arm, and kissed him long and thoroughly.

"How's that?" he asked, a breathless moment later.

"Better," Remus grudgingly admitted.

"Well then," Sirius said smugly. "Shall we?" He offered an arm which Remus reluctantly took, and the two continued in merciful silence down the slope.

The Whomping Willow sensed their approach. Not having eyes, it was not fooled by the Invisibility Cloak. Sirius eyed the tree in consternation. Usually, they had Peter to do the honours of keeping the tree from pounding them to a pulp, but this was one of those delicate times when three would very definitely have been a crowd.

Sirius sighed. There was nothing for it but to find a big stick.

It was an awkward production. Since it was the middle of the afternoon, they had to keep the Cloak on, or risk being seen from the castle, but the search would have gone much faster if they could have split up. Once the stick was found, there was no way to avoid having it look odd from the castle - a three-metre branch floating along about a metre off the ground was bound to attract attention - so they carried it through the forest as far as they could, leaving the trees only when the Whomping Willow stood between them and the castle.

"Ow!" said Remus. "You're poking me."

"Well, I'm trying to poke the sodding tree, but I just - can't - get -" His tongue was protruding between his teeth in a way that Remus might have found funny in any other mood.

In his current mood, all he could do was think, Maybe the tree will smash that branch and put me out of my misery. Not that he thought Sirius would not immediately insist on finding another. Once he had decided to do something, almost nothing could deter him.

"Yarr!" declared Sirius triumphantly, as a final, desperate prod found its mark. "Take that, you sodding vegetable!"

"Trees aren't vegetables," muttered Remus. "They're, well, trees."

"I know, I know," Sirius grabbed his arm again and hauled him along. "I take Herbology, too, you know."

"And it's your worst mark," Remus reminded him. "Apart from Divination."

"Well then," Sirius grinned as he pushed Remus into the opening between the tree's roots, jumping in after, "it's a good thing I'm bloody marvelous at Potions!"

It was true. Only two people in their year were better at Potions than Sirius was: Lily Evans and Severus Snape. Remus himself was rather hopeless at it.

"Er - where is the potion?" he asked hopefully, wadding up the Invisibility Cloak and stowing it in a subterranean chink between the tree's creaking roots.

Sirius's face went blank with shock. Eyes wide, openmouthed, he stared at Remus. Frantically, he began patting down his robes, checking every secret pocket once, twice.

Remus held his breath. This was almost too good to be true. Sirius almost never forgot anything - apart from little things, like when schoolwork was due.

"I had it," Sirius moaned tragically. "Right - here!" he declared with a wicked grin, drawing the goblet out of an inner pocket.

"Oh, Moony!" He collapsed with a hoot of laughter, falling into a shaft of afternoon sunlight that had found its way between the roots. "You should see your face! I really had you there for a minute, didn't I?"

Remus put his fingers to his throbbing temples. "Padfoot," he said slowly, "if the wolf were out right now, I would let it bite you on the arse without a second's regret. How did you manage not to spill it?"

"Surface tension charm," Sirius told him smugly, turning the goblet upside down to demonstrate. The potion did not move. "Good thing I'm ace at Charms as well, eh?" He grinned. "Say it, Moony! Isn't your boyfriend just the cleverest wizard ever?"

"Yes," Remus said, rolling his eyes. "The cleverest. Whatever."

"Fine," Sirius sighed. "This potion won't keep forever. Best be getting on."

I should never have agreed to this, thought Remus as they arrived at the Shrieking Shack, dusty and out of breath. Why am I even here?

The shack was too warm. The late spring sunlight had been beating down on it all day, and the boarded-up windows allowed for few gentle breezes to waft through. Remus shrugged out of his robes and followed Sirius up the creaking stairs in his shirtsleeves, dragging his feet as if he were headed for his own execution.

When he pushed open the bedroom door, Sirius was already sitting on the bed, goblet between his hands, waggling his eyebrows in mock-lewdness.

"Can I get you a drink, Gorgeous?"

Nonplussed, Remus sat down next to him. "Do we have to do this?" he asked one last time.

"Yes," said Sirius firmly. "We have to do this. I'll get my turn, just like you did. We'll have fun. Prongs will forgive us. We'll all be square." He presented the steaming, purplish sludge to Remus.

Remus sighed. Best just get it over with, he thought. Maybe the girl will be more in the mood for this than I am.

He took the goblet from Sirius's outstretched hand, and downed it in one swallow. Sirius looked on hopefully as he spluttered and coughed.

"God, that stuff's foul!" he gagged. "Tastes like sugared violets."

"How do you feel?" Sirius asked eagerly.

"Nauseated."

"That'll pass," Sirius assured him. He was watching Remus with intense fascination, fingers dug into the ratty, old comforter that covered the bed.

The nausea was already beginning to pass, but Remus still felt strange. He could feel the change coming upon him, starting from within. In some ways, it was like his monthly changes - an indefinable shifting of his DNA - a realignment of his cells - only it didn't hurt. The room seemed to be growing larger around him. No, he was getting smaller. He looked down at his hands, but the sleeves of his shirt hung down over them.

"Padfoot, who -?" His voice sounded ludicrously high and quavery, and he stopped speaking at once.

The delight in Sirius's eyes was apparent, and Remus could tell from the way he was biting his lip that he was trying hard not to laugh. Instead, he shook his head and gestured across the room toward a cracked mirror that hung on the wall.

Remus stood, feeling slightly shaky and still woozy from the potion. He was not used to being so close to the ground. When he reached the mirror, he had to stand on tiptoe, kicking off his now too-large shoes for balance as he peered into the spiderweb of cracks that laced the glass.

Then he saw. Auburn hair, hazel eyes, long lashes. He blinked once, then whirled on Sirius, who had collapsed in a fit of giggles on the bed.

"Maggie Lewis?!" he cried in disbelief.

Maggie was a fifth year Ravenclaw, and was, as advertised, both pretty and intelligent. She had also spent her first three years at Hogwarts trailing after Remus like a love-sick puppy, much to the amusement of his friends and foes alike. There had been a time when not a day had passed without him finding a simpering love poem rolled up in one of his socks or red and pink paper hearts stuffed between the pages of his Transfiguration book or "M.L. + R.L." carved into his spot on the bench at the Gryffindor table or - worst of all - one of Maggie's little giggling friends "subtly" attempting to slip a love potion into his food. She had, he had heard, stayed in bed crying for a week after catching Remus snogging Sirius behind the broom shed at the beginning of the previous year. But since that day, she had never bothered him again, much to his relief.

"Maggie Lewis?" he said again to the top of Sirius's head.

Sirius was face down on the bed by this time, trying to get his wheezes of laughter under control.

"The girl who tried to poison me almost weekly for three years?"

"Oh, come now!" gasped Sirius. "I hear she's quite good at Potions. If we hadn't managed to save you, she might have had you writing poetry as well."

"Yes, 'poison me'. I believe I already said that." He did not like the whining, panicked tone in his voice. He also did not like how he was feeling. He came back to the bed and sat down, wrapping his arms around his waist. "Speaking of poison -" he grimaced.

Sirius sobered up, puzzled. "Still feeling ill? That should have worn off by now."

"No, not ill exactly," he groped for the words. "Not nauseated at all. More - sore. It hurts here." He placed a hand on Maggie Lewis's midsection, just below her navel, in illustration.

Sirius was beginning to look concerned. "Does it hurt a lot?"

"No - it's just kind of uncomfortable."

"Weird. I didn't get anything like that when I took it. Maybe it has something to do with being a werewolf? Different reactions to different things, you know? You're probably fine."

"Probably fine?!" cried Remus. He was startled to feel tears springing to his eyes, and blinked them back furiously. "How can you say I'm 'probably fine'? Maybe your bloody potion's poisoned me after all. Ever think of that?"

"All right," Sirius sighed indulgently. "Moony, do you feel like you're dying?"

"No," sulked Remus.

"Do you feel like you're about to be sick?"

"No."

"Right," Sirius said triumphantly. "It is the professional diagnosis of Dr Padfoot that there's absolutely nothing wrong with you."

Remus gave him a disgusted look. "Maybe so. But do you know what's wrong with you, Sirius? The problem with you is that you never, ever take anything seriously. Including me. Life's one big joke to Sirius Black. People are just there for your amusement, to be played with and mocked. Well, I don't want to be played anymore!"

There was a moment of stunned silence as they stared at one another.

Where in hell did that come from? wondered Remus. It was something he had thought in passing now and then, but he had never intended to actually say it.

Sirius looked as if he were about to begin backing away, hands in the air. "Moony, I'm sorry if I - I never meant to -"

"Sorry?!" said Maggie Lewis's mouth in Remus's girl-voice. "Oh, yes! You're always sorry! You'll make those big puppydog eyes and I'll forgive you. But you're right. You never do mean to, do you? Because it's all just a big joke." Why can I not shut up?

The rational part of his mind appeared to have shut itself into the smallest compartment of his brain. It was watching the scene with growing horror, and saying things like, You're hurting him. Stop it at once! But whatever had possessed the larger part of his brain was getting an odd sense of satisfaction from having self-assured Sirius Black on the run. Somehow, the potion had accessed a part of him that had been hurting without being noticed, and now it wanted to get back some of its own.

He had to get out of here, if only for a moment. The room felt hot and close and he needed to be alone to get a grip on himself.

"I'm going to the loo," he said, and flounced out of the room, half expecting to hear Sirius call, "don't forget to take notes!" after him. But only stunned silence followed him.

He stumbled down the unusually-large stairs to the tiny closet, much like an indoor outhouse, that served as the shack's privy. Shutting the door, he sat down on the wooden seat, feet dangling inches above the floor, and put his head in his too-small hands.

Where was this torrent of vitriol coming from? Remus knew for a fact he had no temper to speak of, aside from getting a bit irritable before the full moon. When something - usually Sirius - made him angry, he rationalised and reasoned with himself until the feeling went away. He would tell himself he was being silly, or that it was no big deal. It had always worked until now. Even timid Peter and easy-going James acted out more than he did. But suddenly, out of nowhere, he had a temper to rival even Sirius's. It just did not make sense.

He felt terrible. Not only about the things he had said to Sirius, but because of the constant ache in his midsection. It made him feel uncomfortable and bloated and intensely unattractive and - damp? He frowned down at Maggie's thighs in puzzlement.

Standing up slowly, he unlaced his trousers and peered into his pants.

It felt so strange to be looking down there and not seeing some of the most precious parts of his body, but even stranger was the dark stain on the fabric and the shockingly-familiar scent, harsh to his sensitive nose.

There was no dignity in the high-pitched yelp he made. Hastily, he pulled up his trousers and tied them tightly into place, brain trying to deny what he had seen. He staggered back up the stairs, wide-eyed with terror, and half-fell into the bedroom. Sirius was on his feet, looking unsure whether to come toward him or break for cover.

"Are you all right, Moony?" he asked warily.

"Padfoot -" he staggered toward the other boy and clutched at his arms. Sirius, the comforting presence. Sirius, always a few inches shorter than he, but so large and safe-looking now. "Padfoot - I - I'm bleeding!" And unexpectedly, he burst into tears.

Sirius stood, frozen, as the tiny, female Remus clung to his arms and sobbed against his chest. Then he burst out laughing.

His reaction shocked Remus out of his tears. "You think this is funny?!"

"Oh, Moony," laughed Sirius. He wrapped his arms around Remus and lifted him off his feet, sitting down on the bed with the petite, feminine body on his lap. "Moony, you're fine. There's nothing wrong with you. It's that thing - that girl thing. You know. I guess it really is 'that time of the month' for you!" His chest was shaking with laughter under Remus's ear.

Remus was quiet for a moment. If that was all this was, then he was in no immediate danger, and he could afford to deal with the his problem.

"Sirius, you can be such an insensitive bastard sometimes."

Sirius's chest stilled. "I'm sorry, Moony. I didn't mean to laugh."

"It's not that," said Remus sorrowfully. "Well, it is that, but - it's just - well, I'm glad you feel comfortable enough with me being a werewolf that you feel you can joke about it. But I'm not. And I can't. Don't you see?" he said plaintively. "There's nothing about it that's funny to me. It's this horrible thing inside me that wants to hunt and kill people - people I care about - and there's nothing I can do to control it!"

"I know, Moony," Sirius said. "So, was that what went after me earlier?"

Still trying to be funny? thought Remus wearily. "No. Yes. I don't know. It was just some stuff I was thinking about. But I really do think you don't take me seriously. Sometimes I feel like I'm just a bit of fun to you."

"Don't be an arse, Moony," Sirius replied affectionately.

"Could you please just refrain from calling me names for the moment?" A couple more large, hot tears slipped down the girl's face. He found he could not meet Sirius's eyes - something he rarely had trouble doing - as he went on. "I just wonder sometimes - you know - what's going to happen after we leave school. It's only a couple of months away, isn't it? And then real life starts and we'll be getting jobs and building lives for ourselves and we won't live here anymore and I won't get to see you every -"

His voice broke in a huge, dramatic sob. He could almost imagine Sirius's voice. So long, Moony. It's been fun knowing you, but not as fun as it could have been.

"Oh, Padfoot! I miss you already and you haven't even left me yet!"

"Left you? What are you talking about? Moony, don't be such a -" but he caught himself in time. "Sorry. No name-calling. Right." He sighed and lay back on the bed, pulling the slight, girlish Remus along with him, cradling him against his chest.

Remus breathed in the unique, warm, slightly-doggy scent that was Sirius, and sniffed, trying to force himself to stop crying.

"Moony - Remus. I am not going to leave you, so you can get that silly idea out of your pretty little head at once." He kissed the top of the head in question. "I imagine you'll still be around to smack me with a sensible yet stylish walking stick when I charm my false teeth to bite people on the bum."

"But you've never said it, Padfoot," Remus sniffled. "You've never said -"

"Do you need me to, Moony?" The laughter was completely gone from his voice by this time. "I thought you knew. I've known since I was fourteen."

Remus looked up at him with Maggie's big, hazel eyes. "It would be nice to hear it sometimes."

Sirius's eyes looked straight through the girlish facade and into Remus's heart. "I love you, Remus. If I've shown it badly, or given you anything less than the respect you deserve, then that's my fault, and I'm sorry."

He bent his head to capture the lips that Remus currently wore in a brief kiss. Remus, overcome, burst into tears again. For a long moment, Sirius held him.

"But Moony," he finally continued, suppressed laughter bubbling once more from his lips, "I will not stop being the lovable, insensitive bastard who jokes about everything. That's just who I am, and you'll just have to learn to love it along with the rest of me, won't you?"

Remus bit his lip and smiled in spite of himself. "I'm sorry, too," he said. "I should have told you today that I wasn't in the mood for this."

"Not in the mood?!" Sirius said, dismayed. "You mean we're not going to shag now?"

But Remus could tell that Sirius was just joking again, and rolled his eyes, still feeling squashy and bloated. "Trust me, Padfoot; you really don't want to go there."

Four hours later, Maggie Lewis's accusing hazel eyes glared at a very sheepish-looking Sirius over the ancient bedspread. She opened her mouth and, in Remus's clipped accent and the precise tones he used only when he had Had Enough, said, "I am going to kill you in your sleep."

"Then I guess I had better not sleep until it wears off." Sirius poked at a speck of very late afternoon sunlight that had filtered between the boards of the window to bounce off the faded fabric. "Do you want to go see Madam Pomfrey?"

Remus shuddered at the thought of explaining his predicament to the young Hogwarts matron. "I'd rather die."

"How was I to know werewolf metabolism would affect how long the potion lasted?" Sirius said. Then he brightened. "Hey! What do you think would happen if you took Polyjuice right before the full moon rose?"

Remus continued to glare at him. He was very tired of being a girl. It was definitely high on his list of most unpleasant experiences ever. "You'd better pray to all that is holy that you never find out, Sirius Black."

Sirius just grinned. "I bet Prongs and Wormtail think we've been at it all this time," he said.

"I'll be sure to let them know you failed to perform," Remus said drily. "Just you see if I don't."