Oh look, I'm posting my old Harry Potter fiction I wrote two years ago. This was a response to a Halloween challenge back in 2011. Is the Harry Potter fandom still alive? Anyway I don't really write anything but Doctor Who so have some Padfoot and Moony. No, not Wolfstar. But still.
Midnight.
The black dog crept over the moor, ears pricked for the slightest sound. The full moon cast weird shadows over the field and tors. In the distance the dog heard the howls of a wolf. The song came from the west, and the dog took off in that direction.
It had been a year since the dog had escaped prison and had been reunited with his godson, whom he had not seen since the boy was just a baby. The dog had found his best friend, whom had given up on him in the twelve years that had separated the dog from life. In those twelve years, a murderer had gone free, the boy who lived had grown up, and the Dark Lord had fallen.
The black dog lifted his head and howled, then waited for a reply. A howl from the wolf sounded, and soon a new shadow appeared. Standing on a tor was the wolf, looking down at the dog. The dog suppressed a shudder. He knew the wolf, but every time he saw him he had to admit that the other canine was pretty terrifying.
"Good evening, Padfoot," the wolf yelped, jumping down from his rock and landing in front of the black dog. "I heard you were coming."
"Oh, really?" said Padfoot, lazily.
"Yes. The muggles said Black Shuck was on the move." The wolf fixed him with the sharp, amber gaze that revealed his other side. "Wizards call you the Grim. Muggles just call you a Black Dog or Black Shuck."
"Jeez, Moony, d'you have to be so technical?" Padfoot barked.
"I'm only repeating what I heard," said the wolf, Moony, staring out over the moor.
"Never thought I'd find you this far south," said Padfoot.
"Perfect place, Dartmoor. Back to England. Scotland knows who I am." He turned to Padfoot. "The muggles still are looking for you. They think you're some nutcase."
"Do you think I'm a nutcase?" Padfoot asked.
"Sirius Orion Black, I know you're crazy," Moony replied. "You're crazy to come looking for me. What's going on?"
"Have you heard from Harry?" Padfoot asked.
"No, I haven't. I haven't heard from anyone in our world for a long time," Moony replied. He lay down on the ground and put his head between his front paws.
"He's back, Remus."
Moony bolted up.
"WHAT?" He howled, sounding like his tall was caught in a trap.
"Harry saw him return." Padfoot fell silent, thinking of the horrors that his boy had gone through already.
"How did he return? Does he have a Host?" Moony asked. "Dumbledore said that he's had two Hosts in the past four years, Quirell and Ginny Weasley, Ron's little sister."
"No. Voldemort doesn't have a host. He's returned, alive. Harry said that…" Padfoot's voice trailed off unpleasantly.
"What did Harry see?" Moony prompted.
"Wormtail! That worthless, slimy, traitorous, rat Wormtail! He's Voldemort's Servant, and he brought him back," Padfoot screamed, ramming Moony in the shoulder. Padfoot slouched against Moony, sobbing. "He's after Harry. Dumbledore told me to find you and the others who are left."
"Who is left?" Moony asked, awkwardly stretching an arm and paw around Padfoot like a human would hold a friend.
"There's us, Dumbledore, McGonnagall, Hagrid, Moody, Snape…" Padfoot's voice trailed off again. "There are others, but, we've lost most of them. James and Lily, the Mckinnons, the Prewitts…"
"Prewitt?" Moony asked, bolting upright. "I just remembered something. Ron's mother, Molly Weasley…"
"Is a Prewitt!" finished Padfoot. "Dumbledore's sent a message to Arthur and Molly Weasley, too. Arthur works for the Ministry, so he'll be invaluable. Moody knows some other aurors that may be on our side. One of them is my cousin, funny enough."
Moony looked up at the sky. "So, everything we feared is coming true. The Dementors and the Ministry's incompetence were just the beginning."
Padfoot nodded. "We're alone again." He trotted around. "I'm itching to do something. I've been out of it too long. Come on."
Moony followed him. "I'm sorry for everything, Sirius. I should have known…"
Padfoot stopped. All he had known had been shattered in one horrible night. His friends murdered, the betrayal, his godson taken from him, himself accused of something he hadn't done and sentenced to Azkaban. Not even Moony had questioned what happened.
"Don't be, Remus. You didn't see what happened. Anyway, it's not your fault. I'd have suspected myself, really."
"From now on, we're back to not knowing who to trust," Moony observed, slipping under a sign with the name of a muggle town, Uplyme. "He really is after Harry?"
Padfoot nodded. "There was one thing that Voldemort did not have last time, and it was the Prophesy. Dumbledore is convinced that it's Harry. Voldemort only has half of it."
"Who is the other?"
"The Longbottom boy- Frank and Alice's son."
"Neville? Neville Longbottom?" Moony nearly laughed. Neville was a sweet, clumsy, forgetful boy that was scared of everything. Moony grew sober, remembering Neville facing his worst fear with the boggart. "Neville has potential. I wouldn't be surprised."
"That's what I'm afraid of." Padfoot said. "Our children will be involved in the war, no matter what we do."
The pair continued walking, silent for several hours. The sun was now rising over England and Remus Lupin would soon return to his natural form as a man. The black dog would return to human form, although voluntarily, and would face the morning with his werewolf friend.
The new day had dawned, but the nightmare had begun.
