"According to one of our sources inside the Ministry, Aurors Kingsley Shacklebolt and Alastor Moody entered the house upon arrival, finding the Muggle family inside already dead. As the premises were searched, two Death Eaters were discovered in the house's kitchen. Apparently the criminals were hoping to ransack the grounds after consuming and destroying what they could. What happened next is unclear, however; our source states that Mr. Moody engaged the Death Eaters in battle immediately. Shacklebolt joined in after being attacked with some sort of curse, and the fight commenced for some time. It is believed that the climax occurred when one of the Death Eaters used confringo, commonly called the Blasting Curse, on Alastor Moody. Moody has been injured, and though our source cannot confirm the extent of the damage, they assert he was carried out of the house alive. Unfortunately, as Mr. Shacklebolt was attempting to stop the bleeding, the two Death Eaters escaped the premises unharmed. It is believed that – "
"That's enough of that, I believe."
The tinny voice shut off with a click as a willowy, red-haired woman in her early twenties waved the wand in her hand at it. She sighed and settled back in her chair.
"I do hope he's alright." Lily Potter murmured to no one in particular.
"Lil, I'm sure he's fine." James Potter, tall and lean with firm muscles from a lifetime on a broom, stepped into the living room. In his arms was a glass bowl filled with cake batter – he'd been hard at work in the kitchen. "Moody's gotten himself out of worse than this before. Remember?"
"It's just that… James, we can't keep going on like this!" Lily cried. "Every time I hear the news, or pick up the Prophet in the morning, I'm terrified of what I'll see! First it was that attempt on Frank's life last month, and then the cursed book Sirius got in the mail, and now Alastor's been hurt?"
"Lily, darling, please calm down. If you'll think back, Alice Stunned Frank's attacker, didn't she? And Padfoot, he recognized that the book was cursed before anything happened. Everyone's fine."
Lily nodded. "James… I just can't take this much longer. Tomorrow's Harry's birthday and I… I'm afraid to even celebrate it. If something were to happen…"
As if in response to his mother's worries, the child upstairs began to cry softly. Lily practically leapt to her feet and dashed up the stairs.
"I'll be right back." she promised. "Just need to make sure he's all right."
James sighed and shook his head as Lily vanished into Harry's room. He stared at her empty chair, a worn perch rarely vacated anymore by its faithful occupant. Lily had changed after Dorcas's death – the two women had been extremely close friends since childhood. Where once there was strength, there was now only fear. And where defiance had ruled, desperation had taken control. She had once been active in the Order of the Phoenix, fighting with all her might to bring Lord Voldemort down, but now she lived in the living room, leaving her chair only to eat and care for tiny Harry. One thing was evident to James: his wife definitely needed a break.
The dark-haired Quidditch player turned and filed up the stairs to Harry's bedroom. Lily stood over their child's crib, watching him silently.
"Lil," James said, "I've got an idea."
"He's sleeping now." Lily said. "He must have had a nightmare."
James gently took Lily's shoulders and turned her to face him. "Lil." he repeated. "Listen to me. You need a rest."
"W-what do you mean?"
"Don't think I haven't noticed what's been going on. You've changed since Dorcas's death; you need a change of pace."
"She was my best friend!" Lily shot back. "I met her my first day at Hogwarts, and now I'm supposed to act like nothing happened? Like she's still alive?" Tears began to slide down the young witch's pale cheeks as she remembered the hours spent with Dorcas at school. "James, think what would happen if Sirius died. You'd be the same way."
"This isn't healthy, Lil." her husband returned. "I think that it would be good for you, and Harry too, if you went away for awhile."
"Away?" Lily cried. "To where? I couldn't leave you, not with Voldemort killing Muggles left and right and Death Eaters behind every door. If you died, I'd never forgive myself."
"If Voldemort killed you – or Harry, God forbid - I'd never forgive myself." James replied coolly. "You and he both need to be safe, away from all this for awhile."
Lily sighed. She was beginning to see James's point.
"Where would I go?"
"Peter's mother invited us to visit her at her summer home in Marseilles last Christmas. You could go there."
"To Iris, James? You can't be serious."
"You're not safe here, love. Neither is Harry. If you're going to honestly relax, you've got to be away from all this madness for awhile."
"But she's so – so – so stuffy! What would I do in Marseilles?"
"Anything you wanted. It's a seaside town, you'd have the clean air to revive you. And whatever Iris Pettigrew is, she's a wondrous mother. Harry couldn't be safer in the Ministry itself."
Lily returned her gaze to the sleeping Harry. "I… I just don't know about this, James. What if something happens to you? You can't be alone, remember what Dumbledore said in his letter."
"All the more reason why its subject needs to be out of the country." James said, gesturing to tiny Harry, who stirred slightly in his slumber. "But I'll be fine."
Lily threw up her hands. "When you're in this mood, there's no changing your mind. Just promise me you'll stay with someone."
James grinned. "Padfoot's been after me to drop in. I'll stay with him, Lil, you satisfied?"
Lily shook her head. "I'll go, darling. Just promise me you'll be careful, alright?"
"Oi! Prongs! You asleep up there, or what?"
"Only if you are, Padfoot." James answered, turning to grin at his friend down below. With a sigh, he leaned left and dove downward, his mint-condition Nimbus 1000 racing broom sliding through the thin layer of fog. Racing up to meet him on a black and silver broom was a shaggy-haired young man who looked slightly older than his downward-spiraling opponent. James laughed and veered right to avoid Sirius Black's outstretched arms, the dull red Quaffle still secure under his arm.
"You thought that could shake me off?" Sirius laughed, guiding his brand-new Cleansweep Five after his friend. James's reply was inaudible, but he twisted upwards and soared into the fog bank once more.
"That git."
"What?" Sirius asked, looking over his shoulder at the two other people hovering in the mists.
"It's supposed to be a team sport, you arse!" the speaker shouted up at the invisible James.
"Remus, leave off. It's James, this is what he does."
"I know." Remus Lupin sighed. "Every time we've done this, even when we were first-years. He had to prove how much better he was." The pale, fair-haired man punctuated his last sentence with a small shake of his head.
Sirius looked upward. James hadn't returned yet, he was probably still up there doing Merlin-knew-what. It was a tradition, this weekly Quidditch game. James had dubbed it the M.C., or Marauders' Cup. What he didn't know was that Peter secretly referred to it as the Mon Slaughter Cup, using the French word for "my" to stretch the rhyme. Peter never had been the brightest candle in the chandelier, but the pun still gave Remus a laugh. Whatever Sirius himself thought of Quidditch, Peter and Remus were not fans. At least, not like James. Then again, nobody was a fan quite like James. Whenever he got his hands on a Quaffle – or, more preferably, his eyes on a Snitch – his attention to the remainder of life dwindled into nothingness.
To make things fair, James and Sirius were Chasers on opposite teams. Remus and Peter played a combination of Beater and Keeper, batting a lone Bludger back and forth while trying to block their opponent from scoring. James would tire quickly of the game, though, and soon the play would degenerate into the present situation: James and Sirius playing an elaborate round of Keep-Away while Remus and Peter tried not to fall asleep on their brooms.
"He's still up there?"
Sirius jumped, then swore under his breath.
"Peter, don't do that!"
"Do what?" the short, rather scrawny newcomer asked. "I just came up behind you."
"Make some noise, won't you?" a very annoyed Sirius replied. "You don't just appear like that!"
"Shall I Apparate, then?" Peter inquired. "That makes you feel so much better." Peter Pettigrew took great pride in his stealth. It was well-warranted, though – when you scrape through Hogwarts with only two O.W.L.s, you have to find something to be glad of.
"No, thank you." Remus said. "Your Apparitions are inconspicuous enough to wake the dead."
"Hey!" Peter protested. "It's not my fault that I make such a loud bang. The instructor said so!"
"It may not be your fault, but it's certainly your responsibility." Sirius said. "Now, about James…"
"We should do something." Lupin said.
Sirius grinned. "I've got just the plan." Looking upward, he leaned back and shot forward. Remus started shouting something at him, but quickly gave up.
"Abyssinia, Moony!" he cried. Prongs, you're in for a big surprise.
James, to Sirius's shock, was clearly visible. In fact, he'd been diving and pulling up in what resembled a narrow V-shape.
"Padfoot!" he said, coming to the crest of one of his maneuvers. "Took you long enough, mate."
"Prongs, what are you doing?" Sirius asked.
James leaned down and kicked the accelerator on his broom – a custom purchase from Arthur Weasley, who'd modified a Muggle device for his friend. Sirius cringed, expecting James to lose control and fall, but his fears were groundless. The cocky Marauder pulled up unhurt, using his brake (yet another Weasley product) to come to a halt directly in front of his friend.
"You remember that exchange student our last year of school, from Poland? The one who almost beat me for Seeker?"
"Yeah, what was his name? Wonky?"
"Wronski, Padfoot. If your memory were as bad with spells as it was with names – "
"We'd all have been dead long ago, wouldn't we? Thank goodness that's not the case."
"Well, anyway, Wronski invented that move. It got him the Snitch in tryouts four times out of eight."
"I remember." Sirius laughed. "Your face looked like it'd gotten caught on the wrong side of an Engorgement Charm."
"I hit the ground!" James snapped, smacking Sirius's arm. "It's not funny!"
"Oh yes it is." the renegade Black replied, his face red. "But seriously Prongs, are you coming down? Moony's getting tired, and his Shooting Star won't hold up much longer."
"Fine." James said. "And Padfoot, it's only eight o'clock. You know as well as I do that Moony's a chronic insomniac, he can't be tired now."
"Oh yes he can." Sirius said. "Or have you forgotten what day it is?"
James raised an eyebrow, and then swore in frustration. "We need to get back." he said. "He needs something to eat."
"Or he could just eat you."
"That's funny. Make fun of the prey animal."
"Just stating fact."
James shook his head. "What time is the sunset tonight, anyway?"
"No idea." Sirius said. "We should head back, though."
Wordlessly, James coasted down to where Remus and Peter sat talking.
"That took you long enough." Remus said.
James sighed. "Moony, I'm sorry." he said. "Listen, we'll get to ground and find you something to eat. You said it yourself, a full stomach helps."
"Only a little." Remus answered, but he was nodding. "Let's go."
The four friends headed for the earth, stepping off their brooms and proceeding to hide them in the nearby below-ground cellar, cleverly dug out by Peter and his rodent "assistants". Remus stiffened suddenly as the sun kissed the far-off horizon – it was coming soon.
"It's alright." Sirius said, putting an arm around his friend. "We're here."
"We're always here." Peter said. "Just please don't eat me, Remus."
The werewolf in question grinned slightly. "I'll do my best." he answered.
One thing was certain in all of their minds: it would be a very long night.
The moon was full overhead as Dalena Cox realized her car was running out of gas. She swore and pressed her foot against the accelerator futilely.
"Come on, you worthless pile of metal…" she moaned, banging on the steering wheel and inadvertently setting off the horn. "Gah-!" she cried. "Stupid horn." A glance out the window revealed her worst fear: her battered 1967 Aston Martin was stopped dead.
Muttering a curse, Dalena sighed and turned off the sputtering engine. She opened the car door and looked around. This time of night St. Thomas Lane was deserted, of course. Did I see a petrol station a few miles back? she thought. Even if I didn't, I should get back to Stanfield. Mother will give me a bed for the night. She laughed to herself as she stepped out of the car, pulling her purse from the back seat. She told me not to go. And look where it got me. Briefly Dalena considered concealing her car, and then chose against it. Even if they see it's an Aston Martin, there's really no chance that they'll steal it. Poor Jill's been through too many wrecks. She patted the silver hood affectionately.
"I'll be back tomorrow." she promised.
She turned and began to walk back towards Stanfield, hoping that it wasn't too far away. In an attempt to allay her rising unease, she tried to think of a song she could hum, but all she could remember was the Star Wars theme.
"Not even Bond." Dalena sighed. "Oh well."
After about half an hour, the farmland on either side turned to trees. Dalena continued walking apprehensively, her hands clutched around her purse. Where am I…? she mouthed soundlessly. There was no answer.
Suddenly, the silence that lay over the countryside was shattered by an eerie howl. Dalena jumped suddenly, then closed her eyes.
"It's just a wolf." she told herself. "Just a wolf. Just a wolf." At the back of her mind, though, she couldn't help thinking that she'd never heard of wolves in Stanfield.
The howl floated through the trees, much closer now.
"Not good." Dalena said, looking around. Where's it coming from, anyhow? She listened closely, then when the third cry reached her ears she whirled.
It was right behind her.
She started to run blindly, leaving the road to find cover in the trees.
Water…must find water… she decided. Cover my scent…
The howls were louder now then ever. It sounded as if they were right behind her, yet when Dalena looked over her shoulder, there was nothing there.
"Where are you?" she whispered to her unknown pursuer. "Are you a wolf, or something worse?"
Movements to her right and rear startled her. Forms rushed past her, she could have sworn there was a deer just beyond the trees…
… and then something hit her on her left, hard.
Dalena screamed, falling to the ground as an immense form leered over her. In the dark she couldn't see much of her attacker, but the fangs were clearly visible. They seemed to glow in the night, dripping acrid saliva on her face. An immense, clawed paw slashed at her cheek, twisting her head to the side. Something hard struck her temple. She reeled from the blows, screaming and desperate.
I'm going to die, aren't I?
Sirius screamed inside as he saw his friend knock the girl to the ground. Barking shrilly, he lost no time in racing to the aid of the victim.
Got to help her, got to save her…
Beside him, James leapt into the scene. Lowering his head, he used the pronged antlers he was named for to run at Remus like a living battering ram. Intent on feeding, the blood-crazed werewolf ignored his friend, and was tossed away like a discarded doll. Sirius lost no time in going on the attack. Remus recovered quickly, and would have returned to the fallen woman if the immense black dog hadn't lunged at his throat. The werewolf bent and shook violently in an attempt to discourage Sirius, but now James was there too, lowering his antlers and snorting. Even a mindless wolf knew the danger of a full-grown stag, aggressive and territorial.
A squeaking from behind caused Sirius to turn his head. Perched on a stump was Peter, looking as concerned as a rat could look.
Sirius moved his immense head from Peter to the girl, and back to Peter. When nothing happened, he gave the canine equivalent of a sigh and shifted back to human form.
"Wormtail!" he said. "The girl!"
Peter nodded and darted to the unconscious Dalena.
"Prongs, come on. We've got to get him out of here." Sirius said, "falling" back to the familiar dog form. The two friends moved as one to push Remus back, into the thickest part of the trees.
With luck, they could restrain him. With a miracle, he hadn't killed that poor girl.
"Are you alright?"
"Unnh…" Dalena moaned. "Wha…?"
She opened her eyes to a fiery pain at her temple and cheekbone. Looking down at her was a round-faced young man about her age. He had a concerned expression and was scrutinizing her face carefully.
"It's okay." he said, patting her shoulder. "You're safe."
"S-safe?" Dalena murmured. "Wha-what happened?"
"It doesn't matter." Peter answered. "Just rest now."
She nodded and closed her eyes. "Rest…"
"Moony? Moony!"
Remus Lupin opened his eyes, only to shudder and curl up again in the ditch he'd lain in that night.
"Five more…"
"Five more what, Moony? Get up, we have things to talk about."
"Prongs, leave off. It's been a long night."
"That's why we need to talk." James Potter shot back. "Now get up."
Remus reluctantly opened his eyes and sat up. He was covered, per usual, in a rather tattered old blanket Prongs carried on his back every night for that purpose.
"Where's Padfoot?" he asked. "And Wormtail?"
"They're at the hospital, Remus."
"What?" Remus tensed up. If I've hurt one of them, if they're dead...
"Do you have any memory of last night?"
Remus concentrated hard. "I caught a scent. Human. That's all I can think of."
"Well, this particular scent led to a girl. We tried to reach her, but you got there first."
Remus slipped back to the ground. "I… did I…?"
James shook his head. "Thankfully, Padfoot got you off her. Peter administered some care – thank Iris Pettigrew for being a healer and teaching her son something. They left for the hospital a few hours ago, when Peter said the girl mentioned a car."
The color returned to Remus's face. "Thank God." he said. "So she's alive?"
"Just a few scratches and a head injury. But only the scratches are your fault."
The werewolf let out a deep sigh.
"At least I didn't kill her."
"It's a good thing, too. Now we can write it off as fatigue."
"Don't lie to her, James. Please."
"It'll be fine, Moony. We'll tell her she must have been tired and slipped. Peter's pretty good with memory charms, you know that."
"What if she's not a Muggle?"
"Well, a witch wouldn't have a car, would it?"
"I don't know. Is that an owl?"
"Where?"
"There." Remus pointed. James turned around and squinted up.
"I can't really tell. Oh, wait. It's Padfoot's."
A tawny owl fluttered down to land on James's outstretched arm. She bore a letter addressed to "Prongs and Moony" in her beak.
"What does it say?" Remus asked.
"I'm opening it, be patient!" James said. He took the letter from the owl, whose name was Aluco, and undid the wax on the envelope.
"Dear Messrs. Moony and Prongs," he began, "The girl is well. Her name is Dalena Cox, and it seems she was on her way home from Stanfield when her car ran out of gas. She stepped out of the car to walk back for petrol, but Moony interrupted that. She's very grateful, and we've dropped her off at home to rest and recover. She's a real bird, if you get me. Too short for you, though, Prongs. Sorry about that.
"We left her at her home about eight o'clock, and are catching the Knight Bus to where you are. Suggest you make yourself presentable."
"Eight o'clock?" Remus asked. "What time is it now?"
"It's, um, ten-thirty." James said.
"They'll be here any minute." Remus said, glancing around. "Prongs, any chance I could get something to wear?"
James thought for a moment, and then sighed.
"Not that I know of." he said. "But you know Ern, he won't care. Merlin knows he's ferried us all over."
Remus nodded. "Where are they?"
"Frankly, I've got no idea." James confessed. "Wait. Is that them?" A faint rumble had reached James's ears, and he looked down the street. A vehicle was moving towards them, but it was all wrong.
"The Knight Bus isn't black, is it?" Remus asked. "I don't really remember."
"No, it's purple." James said. "And it's definitely not that small."
Remus's jaw dropped as the mystery vehicle drew closer.
"He didn't - !"
"Oh, but I did." Sirius Black announced, pulling an immense black motorcycle to a halt directly in front of James and Remus.
"What happened to the Knight Bus?" Lupin muttered.
"This is bloody fantastic!" James crowed, too busy ogling the motorcycle to pay attention to Remus's comment.
"Isn't it?"
"Padfoot, where did you get this?"
"A friend of mine works in the motorcycle business." the shaggy-haired Animagus answered. "And his wife's a witch. So I pulled a few strings and…"
"Brilliant." James congratulated him. "I mean, it's so Muggle. They'll never suspect us!"
"And, if I'm to ask, how exactly are we getting home?"
"Like this." a voice said. Peter's head popped up from the other side. "He bought a sidecar."
"That solves everything." Remus muttered.
"But it does." Sirius remarked. "Prongs can ride behind me. Moony, you sit in the sidecar."
"And where does that leave me?" Peter asked.
"Transform and ride with Moony. I'm sure there's room for a rat, isn't there?"
"There should be." Remus said, appraising the riding space. "But, if I may ask, where are we going?"
"Home." Sirius said. "My home, anyway. Moony, you need rest. Prongs, well, you're stuck with me. You want me to drop by your flat, Wormtail?"
Peter nodded. "I need a break after last night."
"Everyone get in, then." Sirius said. "We're leaving."
James sprang onto the bike as Sirius took his seat. A brief rush of wind, and Remus bent to retrieve Peter, now a rat.
"I'm in." he said moments later. "Are you absolutely sure you can drive this thing?"
"Positive." Sirius said with a grin, turning the key and hitting the gas hard.
The bartender at the Bell and Compass looked up as the group of young men crashed through the door to his establishment. He sighed. Typical idiots, all under thirty of course, coming to his place for a loud evening of drinks and women. He often wondered why he'd chosen the occupation of alcoholic sales if he hated drunks, beer and peanuts, but at least it paid the bills.
Grinning self-confidently, the leader of the group approached him.
"Table for four." he said, brushing his shaggy black hair out of his face so he could fully see who he was talking to.
"Fine." the bartender replied. "Anything to drink?"
The dark-haired man nodded. "Put it all on my tab."
"D'you have one?"
"Yeah, check under 'Black'."
The surly man did so and sighed. Sure enough, this young and excitable person did in fact have a line of credit with his establishment.
"Back there." he said, pointing to a table in the corner. "A waitress'll come by."
Sirius Black smiled and returned to his friends.
"There." he said, pointing to the table.
"The bartender's glaring at you." Peter Pettigrew commented.
"He gets angrier every time we come in here." James Potter cut in.
"Maybe it's you, Padfoot." Remus Lupin said with a grin. "He hates long-haired men."
"Of course." Sirius said with a devilish grin. "He prefers them short, fat and bald. Easier to – "
"That's enough." Remus said, hustling his comrades to the table as the bartender glowered at their backs. "We don't want to cause any problems."
"Certainly not." James replied with a touch of sarcasm.
The friends settled into their seats, letting the nervous energy of the past week seep out of them. After all, last night had been the final night of the full moon; and therefore, Remus was free of his curse for another month.
He seemed to be enjoying himself more than any of the others at that moment, his smiles coming easily and his self-consciousness about the scars crisscrossing his face almost nonexistent. James secretly breathed a sigh of relief. More than all of them, Remus needed a break. The once-brilliant scholar was now jobless and living in a run-down flat above a potion shop in Knockturn Alley, where the expenses were few and the questions fewer. The perfect hideaway for any of society's outcasts, but the last place someone like Remus wanted to live.
"You know," Sirius said, "I'll never understand why."
"Why what?" Remus asked.
"Why we're sitting in this tavern, in the middle of Charing Cross, in perfect comfort, while outside the entire world is in terror for their very lives."
"Not the entire world." James said. "No reason to frighten the Muggles – ow!"
Remus retracted the offending elbow quickly.
"Don't say that word so loudly." the werewolf commanded.
"Moony's right, they might hear us." Peter said.
"Nobody asked you, Wormtail." James snapped.
"Leave off Peter." Sirius said. "You might want to be more careful next time, Prongs. After all, we don't know who's here with us."
James laughed. "True. Maybe that biddy's a Death Eater in disguise." He pointed at an old woman carefully eating a fish sandwich.
"Or maybe he's an Inferius." Peter said, pointing at a pale man in a corner.
"If so, YKW did an awful job of covering it up." Sirius answered. "He already looks dead, all they'd have to do is kill him."
"And maybe, maybe she's the one controlling him!" Peter said, as usual jumping into the joke once it had run its course.
"Maybe." Sirius said. "And… oh."
"What is it?" James asked.
"I don't… oh!" Peter cried, staring at the entrance with shocked eyes.
"What is going on?" Remus cried, trying to see what his friends were staring at.
"I don't believe it." Sirius whispered. "It's her."
"Who?" James asked.
Sirius's reply was barely audible.
"The girl. The girl from the forest."