Well, you guys, I'm back with a Marauders era story! I hope you enjoy! It probably won't be a one shot, but review and let me know what you think. (:
The Ends Don't Justify The Means
Chapter One: Even Marauders abandon each other sometimes.
The air was thick and heavy, and it weighed down upon the two Marauders as they quietly slipped out of the castle. Every month they slipped out at dinner time, when everyone else was eating, merrily talking, no clue what was about to befall Hogsmeade. On these days, James always ate more than he needed to. He made sure, every twenty-eight days and those three-days for which nightfall bade him risk his life, to eat enough so he'd have no problem maintaining his strength in trying circumstances. Sirius and Peter usually joined him in the gorge fest, so it was usually easier. But tonight was different, neither of them were here this time. Dinner had been a bit worse tonight. Remus ate nothing on these such nights, all the better to be less dangerous to his friends. This time, he'd had nothing to do but watch James stuff his face. James' guilt that night was incredible. Though his guilt was rather overshadowed by his anger at Sirius and Peter. How dare they not be there. These three days of the month, when Remus really needed his friends, and they were nowhere to be found.
James hated nights like these most of all because he never knew what to say to Remus. He wanted to embrace his friend, tell him that it was going to be alright, that he was here for him, but Remus never responded to hugging well on such nights. Usually he could keep up a banter going with Sirius, and they'd each attempt to out do the other in ridiculousness, and James remained convinced that it really helped Remus take his mind off his impending transformation - at least as much as it ever was - but tonight they'd been abandoned.
Most nights James didn't bring his glasses or his wand; he couldn't risk getting them broken. Too many questions were never good about what they did on their "Lads' Nights". But tonight he'd been forced to bring his glasses. In the back of his mind, he knew they were going to get smashed, but he needed to see. Tonight, he'd be doing the job of three humans - look out, defender, and anchor. Peter was naturally the look out; being the smallest it was easiest for him. Sirius was, of course, the defender; he was always ready for a fight and it just made sense, besides. James was the anchor. He sat near Remus after he'd initially transformed, time enough for him to calm down, and just sat with him. He genuinely thought it helped.
"It'll be tough to press the knot. We'll need a long stick." His hazel eyes scanned the ground in front of them.
A dry chuckle. "Peter, the little git. First time he's not around and we really need him."
James tried to be reassuring. "S'alright. I'll find one." But his usual charisma of voice was conspicuously absent. After a bit more searching, he managed to locate an appropriate branch to use. With much darting and skirting around dangerously close to the whomping willow's deadly branches, and almost getting hit in the face, gut, and ribs, he managed to prod the knot.
"You're getting good at that, you know."
He smirked. "Practice. You'll have to try it one of these days." With a grunt and swift motion, he went down on all fours and crawled into the tunnel. The darkness was only mild at this point, as the sun hadn't quite set. James was thankful for the bit of light. He couldn't help but feel it a tad symbolic. He heard Remus crawl in behind him, and together they began the easiest part of the night.
James grunted. "This tunnel used to be a lot bigger."
"Everything seems to shrink when you look at the world as the object that is changing and not yourself." said Remus quietly.
He laughed. "That's true. Then again, if we'd never changed we'd still be scrawny first years trying to figure out why our mate's relatives kept becoming deathly ill around the same time every month."
Remus grinned in the dark. "That is the truth. I have so many ill relatives. I think it runs in the family. Maybe I should get checked out. Maybe something is wrong with me." James hated the half bitterness that had crept into his tone at the end, but at least it was still half joking. His eyes narrowed with determination. He'd just have to try harder, then.
"If there's some thing wrong with you, there's about five things wrong with Peter, ten wrong with me, and twenty wrong with Sirius."
"There are an infinite amount of things wrong with Sirius." He was laughing now, and James felt a swell of pride.
"Like that time in the Prefects' bath. If he hadn't gotten off Lily, I swear I was going to hex his bits off." He laughed.
"It would have taught him a lesson. He should just be glad he hasn't gotten near Marlene. If he does... well I may have to forget that I'm a prefect for a few minutes. "
James grinned. "No one'd fault you there."
The end of the tunnel found them then, and James emerged into the dust.
Remus tripped a bit as he stood up. He brushed off his pant leg and frowned. "Here we are again."
James looked around. "It's as lovely as ever."
"Mmmm. Cheery as usual." He kicked a broken chair leg across the floor.
Prongs steadied himself. "Shall we, er?" He made a vague gesture to the heavy chains laying in the back of the room.
Moony frowned and came forward, holding out his arms.
Trying not to think about what he was doing too much, James chained his friend to the wall. He sat down beside his friend, then, and watched his face contort into what looked like a suspiciously permanent frown. "Is something bothering you? More than the usual, I mean."
He shook his head. "Just anxious to get this over with."
James nodded. "Yeah, I wish they were here, too."
Remus didn't look up, but he dipped his head slightly in consensus.
"We'll hex 'em good later. So good, Flitwick'll be impressed with our work and automatically give us O's on the O.W.L.s." Prongs grinned with a bit of effort.
These were the hard moments, too. Trying to keep up the conversation in the time before the moon rose, trying not to look at the window in the moments between words to see how much time they had left.
"There's no need to do that." He looked toward the windows.
Inwardly, Prongs sighed. Remus always stopped grinning at about this time, just before the moon rose. James knew he could feel it. He, himself, could feel the dread creeping up his spine. No matter how strong or brave a Gryffindor he was, it was a nauseating site to see his best mate in excruciating pain. Gathering his nerve once again, he tried a tactic, though his voice was still quiet. "I bet it'll be easier this time, now you've got Marlene. I bet you'll retain more of your humanity."
"You think so?" James didn't miss the hope, or the pain, in his mate's voice.
He nodded, though he knew Remus couldn't see him do so. "Definitely. You did say it became easier this year, now you aren't alone." He stood up and walked to the far corner of the room, doing his best not to wince at how loud his footsteps sounded in the tense silence, and put his glasses down behind an upturned chair. Attempting to be quiet, he made his way back to Remus' side. "Should I change now?"
Remus nodded and, obviously with effort, looked up. James sent him a smile and hoped it gave him a last bit of comfort. With a deep breath, James put all his might into concentrating. His limbs and head lengthened, majestic antlers sprouted from his hairline, his hands and feet became hooves, and mahogany fur carpeted his body all in an the blink of an eye. A fully mature stag then stood in James' place. It was always easier for the werewolf if the animals were already around. Humans triggered his instinct to kill, and animals popping out of nowhere wasn't much better. Curiously, his werewolf self never attempted to hunt any of them, and had only tried after humans once or twice. Though they'd never let him kill anyone. Remus trusted them all, above everything else, with that. James'd never live with himself if he let it happen, either. He only hoped he could manage tonight, by himself, if they had a passerby who drifted too close. But he refused to let himself think like that. Remus was still Remus; he always maintained at least a part of his humanity, even on his worst nights.
Through the stag's eyes, James saw his friend open up his eyes, and knew at once he was searching for him. He met his gaze evenly. Remus almost grinned, and James immediately felt himself perk up, but then his friend's lips split the opposite direction and a piercing howl of pain broke the night. He was starting to breathe heavily. He was starting to lose it. With a sharp gasp of pain he fell to his knees, his eyes unmoving from the window.
James fought every instinct he had to step back, to run, to get away, and forced his legs into a locked position. Deer weren't naturally fighters, another reason the roll usually fell to Sirius, and in fact were rather fearful by nature. They were dammed fast and could put up a good fight when they needed to, but they much preferred staying out of danger.
A horrible sound unlike anything else that could only be the tearing of flesh was suddenly loud in James' ears, and his heart went out to Remus. His eyes sought James' again, and the clear plea in them for help was heartbreaking, even to the stag. It killed James that he couldn't help Remus anymore than this. But Remus' eyes were changing. Their soft, intelligent blue was contorting into something purely skillful, a kind of sharp amber, and the pupil shrunk on itself so that it was more slit like, and barley reminiscent of a human. Forcing himself not to continue to meet Remus' eyes, James saw the bones lengthen and the soft, sandy brown hair recoil into Remus' skull, and, with a last, agonizing scream of pain, a fully-mature, bulky, panting werewolf lay in Remus' place.
James steeled himself. And so it began again.
