Hello! Angie here. Angie loves Remus Lupin, and because of this, Angie will be writing 100 drabbles about dear old Moony. She will not write them in any kind of chronological order and they will be, for the most part, about our favourite werewolf's childhood and teenage years. Angie promises to keep it as canon as she possibly can, and given that we don't have much information about these two periods of Lupin's life, you should know that most of the drabbles here will be based on small scenes created in Angie's restless brain. Thank for you not abandoning this thread early on because she was obnoxious enough to write this in third person, and she hopes you enjoy the drabbles as much as she'll enjoy writing them.

Note: Several characters mentioned throughout the books will be part of the stories here--and with that, I mean other characters asides from the marauders. For instance, people like Emmeline Vance and Hestia Jones? We were never told how old they were, exactly, so I'm going to be taking some liberties here. Enjoy!

Disclaimer: The Harry Potter characters and universe belong to J.K. Rowling.

1. Herbology 2. Muggle Studies 3. Transfiguration 4. Ancient Runes 5. Astronomy 6. Divination 7. Care of Magical Creatures 8. Potions 9. Defense Against the Dark Arts 10. Arithmancy 11. History of Magic 12. Charms 13. Quidditch 14. Hogwarts, A History 15. Room 16. Dragonhide gloves 17. Cauldron 18. Whomping Willow 19. Wand 20. Hogsmeade 21. Veela 22. Kneazle 23. Telescope 24. House elf 25. Sorting Hat 26. Quill 27. Owl 28. Timeturner 29. Pensieve 30. Feast 31. Dress robes 32. Common room 33. Classroom 34. Parseltongue 35. Pureblood 36. Muggle 37. Animagus 38. Patronus 39. Duel 40. Spell 41. Thestrals 42. Portraits 43. Headmaster 44. Ford Anglia 45. torch 46. Dungeon 47. Portkey 48. Leprechaun 49. Yule Ball 50. Boggart 51. act 52. bore 53. Chase 54. Dare 55. Egg on 56. Fight 57. Gape 58. Hoot 59. Ignore 60. Joke 61. Kiss 62. Lope 63. Mooch 64. Nap 65. Ooze 66. Pace 67. Quell 68. Roar 69. Slap 70. teem 71. Untie 72. Vex 73. Warn 74. x-tinguish 75. Yodel 76. Zap 77. Cheerful 78. author's choice 79. author's choice 80. author's choice 81. Depression 82. Careful 83. Fearful 84. Angry 85. Snappish 86. Daring 87. Plaid 88. sweet tooth 89. Past 90. present 91. Future 92. Chocolate 93. Chicken 94. Allergic 95. Snowball 96. Socks 97. Dictionary 98. Pajamas 99. Newspaper 100. Homework.

The Slytherin Prefect smiled cheekily. “Do I look like a Dragon Pox infested troll to you, kid?”

Remus Lupin had to admit that she didn’t. Andromeda Black was extremely pretty in a dangerous way—the Black Widow kind of beauty, all dark hair and big dark eyes. It was quite unsettling, really; Remus fully expected to be attacked by puberty in a year, and he had the vague idea he’d be looking at Sirius’ big and surprisingly friendly cousin in an entirely different light by then.

It was just as well that the girl was five years older than him.

I’m aware that my manners have flown out of window by now. I’m aware that I’m scowling and my mind is running a mile per hour; my internal monologue also may or may not include words that’d make mum gasp.

She’d order me to apologize.

But how could I? AN OLD TALKING HAT had decided after only two seconds that I belonged in Ravenclaw! How could it be certain? Two seconds is not enough to end what is arguably one of the biggest moments of my life.

A foreign laughter fills my head, and I squeeze my eyes shut.

“Gryffindor!”

Entry 43,

After committing the stupidity of commenting how nice Dorcas Meadowes’ hair looked this morning, Sirius dared me to tell her that. To her face. I do not think Dorcas Meadowes receives compliments frequently, for her way of thanking me involved assaulting my mouth outside our common room.

I had the half mind to push her away, but I was too perplexed and too fascinated to move—or do much, really. I dare say she did not need me to do anything other than stay still.

There was much spit involved. I never knew so much spit was required.

The amount of homework he had was perhaps twice the quantity he’d received the previous year, and coupled with his prefect duties, Remus Lupin was beginning to feel sleep deprived. As a result, the young Gryffindor had done the unthinkable, and ditched his prefect duties for the night to doze off in the library.

Someone cleared their throat. Once, twice. Thrice.

Because it’d be improper to ignore the person any further, his eyes opened.

“Mister Lupin, sleeping here is hardly proper.”

Instead of answering to the youngest of Sirius’ cousins, he asked, “Your badge is surprisingly shiny. Almost blinding, really.”

I do not know much of Quidditch, but I’ve seen enough practices to know that this is not going well.

For instance, I know that as a keeper, Bliss Davies, should not be precariously hanging from her broom. Dorcas Meadowes is not the captain, but she’s scolding one of the beaters, while Marlene McKinnon and Caradoc Dearborn have engaged themselves in what is their third shouting match in less than thirty minutes.

Not about to be outdone, James lets out a string of curse words that would make muggle sailors proud.

“They are doomed,” Sirius says, cheerfully, and I laugh.

There was something oddly fascinating about muggles, Sirius and James kept on repeating as they poked around the muggle joke shop. Remus would be inclined to agree, except that by fascinating they meant that muggle girls were easily impressed by them. Apparently some of their tricks were just like ‘magic.’

Remus would bet they were.

Lupin noticed that they were both chatting up the pretty brunette behind the counter without much success. Her lack of interest on his friends made complete sense to him; after all, it was Remus the one she kept looking at.

He bit back a smile.

“Remus!” A voice called from the entrance, and Lupin looked up from his book. Lily Evans looked both angry and exhausted. “Hi!”

He smiled thinly, and closed the book. “Doing alright, Lily?”

Lily sighed again and plopped down on the couch next to him. “I wonder how you do it. Deal with your friends, that is.”

Truthfully, when he’d first met them Remus had put on an act of liking them—after all, he had not wished to be an outcast. But after seven years, he had grown used to it. “Patience,” He answered simply, and Lily’s face softened.

Someone was knocking on the dormitory’s door, and groggily, Remus cursed under his breath, dragging himself towards the door. When he opened it, a frown creased on his forehead. Clad in dark pink pajamas, a grinning Mary McDonald stood before him. “Mary?”

“James told me. James told me that you want to ask me out.” She took a deep breath. “I’ll save you the trouble. Yes, I’d like to go out with you.”

“I see.” Remus said slowly, feeling his ears and neck grow alarmingly hot. “Mary, what’s the date?”

She blinked in confusion. “April 1st. Why?”

“Of course.”

“Do you feel like things are changing, Remus?”

Rare are the days when his friends even bother to call him by his actual name, and Remus tears his eyes away from his potions homework to settle them on Sirius. While Lupin’s been working on his essay for the past hour, Black has been casually lounging near the fire. But his relaxed stance is betrayed by the tense look clouding his gray orbs.

“Change isn’t bad,” Remus says.

“I mean for the worse.”

When he answers, a half-hearted smile tugs on his mouth. “For what’s worth, you’re still a prat, Padfoot.”

A green substance was oozing from the first year’s pores, and Remus was forced to look away more tan once as Madam Pomfrey worked on the injured student. A whimper coming from his right caught his attention, and Lupin, in need of a distraction, turned to look for the source of it.

Looking frail, a bruised and bloody Mary McDonald rested in one of the hospital wing’s beds.

His question came out as a shocked whisper, “Mary, what happened?”

The smile she wore did not match her usual sweet demeanor. “My brother married a muggle. Mulciber punished me for it.”

It was not an everyday occurrence when a wizard turned seventeen, and Sirius had recruited Benjy Fenwick, Gryffindor’s resident party boy to organize a party. Remus’ half-hearted opinions against the affair had gone unnoticed, and in the end, it was Lupin himself the one keeping watch for unwanted visitors (like professors) outside the common room.

A dazed-looking James stepped out of the common room, and Remus exclaimed, “Another year older, James. How does it feel?”

“Like I’ve had too much mead and made a lot of bad decisions.”

“You are not wrong.” Crookedly, Lupin smiled. “Happy Birthday, Prongs.”

“Thanks, Moony.”

Mum thinks that my greatest virtue and greatest flaw are the same: Patience. But right now, as I watch Inbred Black and Potter the Prat scuffle in the middle of the hall, it’s like I don’t know what even patience stands for.

If they get caught, they’ll lose the points I earned on Charms today.

So I do the unthinkable: I lunge myself at them, hoping to stop the fight

One of them punches me.

My nose cracks. “Son of a Banshee!”

Both of them end their scuffling to look at me. Inbred Black is Captain Obvious, “Potter, you broke Lupin’s nose.”

Used to having very limited contact with infants, Remus never failed to feel a little uncomfortable around children below the age of eight. Nymphadora Tonks, Sirius’ six year old cousin was not the exception to this rule.

“Mister Lupin, can I ask you something?” Tonks asked, admiring her mismatched socks.

“Certainly,” Remus said, sounding oddly formal and wondered what could possibly be taking Sirius so long.

“What is Gryffindor? And Slytherin? Why’s Sirius growing a beard? And why don’t I know mummy’s other family?”

Remus coughed back a chuckle. “You’re going to give your mother so much grief, Nymphadora.”

“It’s Tonks!”

The second Remus rolls out of bed, James Potter, Sirus Black and Peter Pettigrew are tackling him and doing their version of singing, which is more like screeching:

“HAPPY COMING TO LIFE DAY, MOONY! FOR FOR HE WAS A JOLLY GOOD FELLOOOOWW FOR HE WAS A JOLLY GOOD FELLOW FOR HE WAS A JOLLY GOOOD FEEELLOOOOOOOOOOOOW, AND NOBODY CAN--” A word that would shock the mothers of all four of them was added, “--DENY!”

The muffled sound of laughter comes out of the birthday boy, followed by accusations of being squished to death on his seventeenth birthday.

I’d followed him silently, and only made my presence known when he was nearly out the door. “Wormtail? Where are you going?”

He squeaked. Slowly, he turned around to face me, and I noticed with a jolt that he was carrying a bag. “I--I need some time, Remus.”

“We are at war, Peter. And you’re escaping, leaving your friends. And what about your mother? Are you leaving her, too?"

The defiant look that sparkled on his eyes for a split of second should have clued me in, right then.

It didn't.

Less than a year later, they were dead.

Binns is droning about the Goblin Wars, and I feel like falling asleep. A quick glance around the room tells me that I’m not the only one—even Lily Evan has given up.

A piece of parchment appears in front of me, and I blink. The writing is cursive, but the letters are round and feminine—and familiar.

Need a favour, Remmy. Will you help me?

Remmy. I’ve told Alice Hitchens to not call me that more times than I can count.

I reply with a question mark and send it back.

Next to me, she giggles and I sigh.

“C’mon, Lupin. Help me.”

I didn’t see why I should—well, I did. Alice orchestrated the entire affair, except Frank was supposed to think it’d been him because—well, who cared? I didn’t even like Frank. He was a Ravenclaw, and I disliked them by default.

But unless I play along, Alice will fake cry and I will feel guilty all the same. I'm a bloody idiot. “Fine.”

He grinned, and I felt like punching him. “It’ll be fun, Remus.”

“Fun?” He clearly didn’t know what Fun stood for. “I’m going to get you a dictionary for Christmas, Frank Longbottom.”

“D’you think they’re having fun?” Hestia asks me in between bites of the cauldron cake she’s nibbling on. There’s a spot of chocolate on her cheek, but it’s endearing enough that I don’t mention it. She’s been filling herself with candy for a while now, and I’d cry bloody murder for the enormous check, were it not for the fact that the manager’s son loves Hestia as much as Hestia loves candy.

Translation: Free sweets.

Before I say anything, she continues “Y’know, Lupin, I’m still not sure if I like you.”

“Sentiment’s the same over here.”

Hestia laughs in mirth.

Remus’ hand rested on his stomach, as he shot a scornful look to the chocolate wrappings strewn on the floor. The compartment’s door slid open, and a boy invited himself in.

“What’s wrong, mate? You look like a ghoul!” Occupying the opposite chair, the stranger resumed his chattering, “It was the chocolate! You look pale, but it’s cool. Pumpkin juice can fix it, I’d know!” He grinned. “I’m Peter, by the way.”

“I’m Remus Lupin.”

Peter blinked. “Like Romulus and Remus? That’s wicked!”

“Not really.” But all the same, a smile that was both sad and ironic assaulted his lips.

“Remus.”

The tone of voice had been serious enough for Remus to not recognize the speaker as James. Slowly, the boy looked up from his Potions essay and found his three best friends staring down at him. It was late—late enough that most of the light the fireplace provided was rather dim. But it was not dim enough to conceal the odd looks dominating his friends’ faces.

He eyed them warily, “What is it?”

It was Sirius the one who asked the question Lupin dreaded the most, “Where do you disappear to every time there’s a full moon, Remus?”

Sirius’ question hung around the common room, and Remus felt as if time had stopped. Frozen, it took him three seconds to find his voice, and another three to remember that breathing was a requirement.

He avoided his friends’ eyes, carefully. When he spoke, his voice was nearly a whisper, “Mum is sick.” Remus cleared his throat, and looked up again. “I told you.”

James gave Peter a sharp look, Sirius elbowed him, and the shorter boy took a deep breath. “Why d’you always return looking as if you fought a pack of centaurs and barely made it out alive?”

Remus was vaguely aware that he was still holding his quill, and that the hand that held it was hanging mid-air—that it’d been for the past minute, with no intentions of moving. Where everything had been excruciatingly loud for him a few moments ago, now was eerily silent. His heart was beating rapidly against his chest cavity, but it didn’t seem to make a sound.

He supposed he ought to be scared. He supposed he should say something—anything—that could save him from this situation. But Lupin was frozen and cold and his brain was painstakingly silent.

“Remus?”