This is a Wolfstar story and features Remus and Sirius during their later school years - 6th, maybe? - and is based on the story "Cookies" from Frog and Toad Together.

Sirius woke to the sound of rain splashing on the windows and pounding on the roof of the Gryffindor boys dormitory. He threw back the covers and rushed to the window, groaning at what he saw. Heavy clouds hung low over the Forbidden Forest, dumping buckets of rain, and wind lashed the branches. The surface of the lake churned with wind-whipped froth. He opened the window and stuck his hand out to double-check, just in case his eyes were deceiving him. They weren't. He pulled it back in, shaking off the icy runnels of water and grimacing.

The quidditch pitch was a mire of churned mud, and he could see the yellow-slicker adorned figure of Madam Hooch studying it, hands on her hips. He didn't need to see her expression to know what she was thinking.

There would be no pick-up quidditch today.

Sirius groaned again. "Moons!" he shouted. "It's raining."

Remus blinked blearily at him. "Pads," he rasped, "I could tell that for myself, by the noise. Now go back to bed like a reasonable person and shut the bloody window before we all drown!"

"Prongs!" Sirius appealed to their dorm mate, knowing James was more likely to be up and about this early.

Silence.

"Prongs?" Sirius looked around the dormitory, suddenly realizing how empty it was. "Where did he go?"

Remus muttered something under his breath. Sirius only caught a few words - "Date, Lily, Hogsmeade" - but it was enough.

"What about Peter?"

Remus shrugged. "Detention, I think? Or maybe an extra credit project." He tugged the covers up to his chin, snuggling deeper into his bed and yawning. "I didn't really pay attention."

"But, Moons!" Sirius wailed, "It's Saturday. What will I do?"

Remus groaned. "I don't care, Pads, so long as you go away and do it somewhere else and leave me in peace." He pulled his pillow over his head, unusually pale and bruised hand shaking slightly.

Sirius immediately felt guilty. He should have remembered. It had been full moon a few days ago, and Remus always took a few days to recover. He needed to sleep.

Sirius considered going back to bed himself, but he was far too awake for that. He frowned, then snapped his fingers. He could make something for Remus, to cheer him up. But what? What would Remus like best?

The answer came almost instantly. Chocolate. Remus practically lived on the stuff, especially just before and after the full moon. Well. That was easy enough. But not just any chocolate. Instructing the house-elves to make something wouldn't satisfy his need to do something.

Decided, Sirius fished some clothes off the floor that he thought were mostly clean. Probably. He shrugged and threw them on. Laundry could wait. He had more important things to do. He slipped out of the dormitory and bounced down through the common room - full of small knots of students using the forced confinement to catch up on their work, which was, in Sirius' mind, a fate worse than boredom - to the kitchens.

Some hours later, a slightly sweaty and disheveled Sirius carefully removed his latest attempt from the oven. The house-elves had, after much hand-wringing and ear-pulling, been convinced to let him use the kitchen, though they watched him suspiciously from a distance. Some had even gotten brave enough to shake their heads and sigh over his… less-than-stellar results.

But he had a good feeling about this batch.

He waited barely long enough for them to cool, snatching one off the pan and waving it around before bringing it to his nose and taking a cautious sniff. "These cookies smell good," he said hopefully. Then, closing his eyes, he took a bite… and broke into a grin.

He had been right. "They taste even better!" he exclaimed happily. He scooped them off the pan and into a bowl, shouted a quick "Thanks - I'll be back to clean up the mess in a bit!" over his shoulder at the bemused house-elves, and rushed up the stairs, taking them two-at-a-time.

He barged into their dorm a few minutes later, panting slightly. "Moons!" he shouted, "Moons! You have to taste these cookies!"

Remus poked his head out from under his pillow, blinking blearily. "Pads," he said, exasperated, "what on earth are you—"

"Cookies!" Sirius said, thrusting the bowl under Remus' nose. "Chocolate cookies."

Remus perked up immediately. "Chocolate?" he asked, already reaching for the bowl.

Sirius grinned.

Then Remus' hand paused. "Pads," he said suspiciously, "did you make these cookies?"

Sirius nodded. "But they're good, Moons, promise!"

Remus hesitated, expression conflicted. "I didn't know you knew how to bake."

Sirius rolled his eyes. "Moons, I have been making cookies all morning. They're good, I promise."

"It took you all morning to make cookies?" Remus raised one eyebrow, wan but amused.

"Good cookies, yes. The bad ones are still in the kitchen."

Remus snorted. "Fine." He selected a cookie, studied it suspiciously, then gingerly took a bite. His expression brightened immediately. "These are the best cookies I've ever eaten!" he exclaimed. "Pads, you're a genius!"

Sirius grinned. "Thank you. Now, budge up."

Remus shifted so he was sitting cross-legged on his bed, and Sirius climbed in beside him. Remus wrapped the blankets around them both, and, together, they ate the cookies.

"You know, Pads," Remus said, chasing a streak of chocolate across his lip with his tongue, "I think we should probably stop eating, or we'll soon be sick."

"You're right," sighed Sirius. "But, lets eat one last cookie. Then we'll stop."

They ate one last cookie.

Sirius stared into the bowl. There were still many cookies left.

"Moons," said Sirius, "let us eat one very last cookie. Then we'll stop."

They ate one very last cookie.

"We must stop eating!" cried Sirius, as he ate another.

"Yes," said Remus, reaching for another cookie. "We need willpower."

"What is willpower?" asked Sirius.

"Willpower is trying hard not to do something that you really want to do," said Remus. "You don't have any, in case you were wondering, so I'm not surprised you don't know."

"You mean like trying not to eat all of these cookies?" asked Sirius.

"Exactly," said Remus.

Remus leaned over and rummaged under his bed. He pulled out a box marked "Moony" in Lily's neat script, from the last time she'd tidied up their room. He shrugged, dumped the contents on the floor, and put the cookies in the box. "There," he said, closing the lid with a snap, "Now we won't eat any more cookies."

"But, Moons, we can open the box," protested Sirius.

"That's true," said Remus. He fished some string out of the pile of things he'd dumped out of the box and tied it around the outside. "There," he said. "Now we won't eat any more cookies."

"But we can cut the string and open the box," said Sirius, frowning. "How will that stop us?"

"That's true," said Remus. He looked around the room, then transfigured a pair of Sirius' socks into a ladder. He climbed up and stuck the box to the ceiling with a sticking charm. "There," he said. "Now we won't eat any more cookies."

"But we can climb the ladder and take the box down and cut the string and open the box," said Sirius. "Or just use Prongs' broom, if we can find it." He frowned around at the mess, trying to remember where he'd seen the broom last. He was sure James had had it just the other day, and he wouldn't have taken it out on a day like today, surely, which meant it was most likely somewhere in the room.

"That's true," said Remus. He climbed the ladder and took the box down. He cut the string and opened the box. He took out the bowl of cookies, and carried it to the door.

"Where are you going?" asked Sirius, trailing after him and looking longingly at the cookies.

"You'll see," said Remus. He carried the cookies down to the common room and put them on a table. Then he put two fingers to his lips and let out a shill whistle.

Sirius covered his ears. "Ow! Moons!"

Remus ignored him. He cupped his hands around his mouth and shouted, "FREE COOKIES!"

All of the students who had been studying or chatting or lounging about playing gobstones and exploding snap suddenly swarmed the table. When the crowd thinned and Sirius could see the bowl again, it was empty. The cookies were gone.

"Now we have no more cookies to eat," said Sirius sadly. "Not even one."

"Yes," said Remus, patting his back sympathetically. "But we have lots and lots of willpower."

"You may keep it all, Moons," said Sirius, picking up the bowl and heading for the door. "I'm going to bake a cake."

THE END