Disclaimer: Harry Potter…yeah, not mine. But there's always tomorrow.
Well, it looks like I'll be writing Marauder fan fiction for a bit. My last fic was a tad angsty; so this time, I thought I'd come up with a lighter subject matter. Anyway, to the Marauders!
Gryffindor Tower was quiet. Not a single student was out and about, enjoying the common room for recreation. The cracking common room fire, which at times seemed to burn perpetually, lay extinguished in a pile of ashes and soot. No one was sitting in the squashy armchairs; important witches and wizards of the past were asleep in their portraits. It was rare for the common room to adopt such a state of tranquility and emptiness, yet it was possible at this late hour of the night; especially when most Gryffindors where exhausted, having spent all day rooting at the Quidditch match and the rest of the afternoon celebrating their team's victory; a few remnants of that afternoon's celebrations still littered the carpet – mainly candy wrappers, Chocolate Frog cards, and streamers
But on the third floor of the boys' dormitories, this was not the case; at least, it wasn't for one student. On the first bed to the right, farthest away from the windows, a boy was lacing his up his sneakers in the dim light of his wand. He was tall, with brown hair that fell below his ears and to the nape of his neck. Blue eyes peered out from under long bangs, a glint of dread in them. His face was a bit grave, yet a light and placid air surrounded him. To him, this was nothing out of the ordinary.
His shoes tied, the teen stood up, praying that the creaky floorboards would give him a break, just this once, and not raise hell when he stepped on them. A sigh of relief escaped him when the boards decided to stay quiet, restful. With this luck he crossed the large room to the door, and once more, begged with the whiny furnishing to keep quiet. The hinges on the door groaned ever so slightly as he slowly pulled it open, feeling as if every squeak from the door were some kind of bomb going off. Once the door was open wide enough for him to get through, he looked back into the room, making sure that his roommates were still asleep.
The small sliver of light from his wand allowed him to see the three sleeping forms of his friends. In the closest bed was Peter Pettigrew: the smaller, blond boy lay on his stomach, his pillow smashed up in his arms, and a small puddle of drool forming by his mouth. In the bed next to Peter's was James; he, too, was on his stomach, his head turned in the direction of the door, and one long arm trailing to the floor, fingers dangling close to the polished wood. Finally, he turned to the bed closest to his: Sirius Black's bed. Sirius lay on his back, looking almost as if he were reclining in a lounge chair; one of his arms was spread back, bent at the elbow, and his hand rested on his chest. As he looked on, Sirius let out a large snort, and began to snore.
Nodding to himself, he put out the light of his wand and walked out into the stairwell. He closed the door soundlessly behind him, and made his way down the stairs.
Unbeknownst to him, however, his roommates were not actually asleep.
As soon as the door was in its frame again, and the sound of his friend's echoing footsteps down the stairs died away, James cracked open one eye. The room was nothing but a dark blur to him, not surprisingly. He reached for his glasses, sitting up and turning on the lamp on his nightstand in the process. The bed on his left rustled, and Peter Pettigrew looked up from his pillow.
"Finally," Peter said. He threw a glance at the door. "I was beginning to think he knew we were gonna follow him."
"Yeah, I know," James said. He threw aside his comforter, revealing himself to already be dressed in a pair of jeans and a T-shirt. James threw on a sweater, which he had stuffed under his pillow before nodding good-night, and turned to the bed on his right. An un-amused frown formed on his face the minute he laid eyes on its occupant. "Though, one look at Sirius here, and all his doubts, if any, would have been dispelled on the spot."
"Oh, so he really is asleep?" Peter asked, as he pulled on his shoes and a sweater. He cringed. "You mean that snoring's for real?"
"Sounds like a broken lawnmower, don't he?" James said with a smirk. Shaking his head, he shoved Sirius roughly on the shoulder and shook him brusquely. "Alright, ass up, Sirius, you lazy git; he's already left."
The raven-haired teen opened one eye lazily, closed it, and then opened both with a start when he realized there were two people looking at him intently from above. He yanked his blankets up his chest. "Blimey! Can't a bloke sleep around here without bein' watched, you perverts?"
"Don't flatter yourself, Sirius; you're not that good at it," James said dully. "And besides, I don't have to get out of bed to watch you sleep." He winked and turned to bend down by his school trunk.
Sirius eyed him with a confused and somewhat disturbed look on his face. One of his eyebrows was raised in question; the other was pulled back in an unreadable expression. "I suddenly feel very violated."
James laughed and continued to rummage through his trunk. "Well, disturbed or not, don't just sit there, mate. Remus is probably out the castle doors by now and we haven't even left the room yet."
"Oh, that's right: Remus!" Sirius leapt out of bed, already dressed, and pulled an old sweater over his head quickly. He ran a hand through his shoulder-length hair to smooth it out a bit, and then jumped into his tennis shoes. From his nightstand, he grabbed his wand and shoved it in his pocket. "James, you got the cloak?"
"Right here," James said, brandishing the silvery material of his Invisibility Cloak before his two friends. He took a quick look around the room, "Right, you two have everything? Wands, shoes, sweaters?"
"Yeah, yeah," Sirius urged. "We've got everything. Let's just go." He clicked the lamp on James' nightstand off, and the three of them headed out the door.
Remus climbed out through the portrait hole quickly and quietly, meeting his escort for the night outside. Madam Pomfrey, the school nurse, stood with her hands clasped behind her back, waiting patiently. Every time Remus saw her, he had to hold back the urge to chuckle. Madam Pomfrey was as nice a woman as they came, and she was not at all unfortunate-looking; but the enormous nurse's hat she wore with her uniform was enough to send anyone into an unjustifiable fit of giggles. At the sound of Remus' footsteps, she looked up with a polite smile.
"Hello, Mr. Lupin," she greeted. "How are you feeling tonight?"
"The same as any other one of these nights," Remus said politely, keeping his eyes directed at anything but her hat. "I just want to get this over with and go to back to bed; the sooner, the better, after all. So, Madam Pomfrey, please lead the way."
Nodding, the nurse placed a hand on his back and began leading Remus down the dark corridor. Few seconds later, the portrait creaked open once more. It appeared, to the naked eye, that the wind (or perhaps Peeves) had simply caused the large portrait to open and close apparently of its own accord. But a knowing witch or wizard would have suspected, correctly, that some mischief was afoot.
"Sirius, you're stepping on me," Peter whispered with a groan. "Watch where you put your giant feet."
"Sorry," Sirius hissed in a tone that was all but apologetic. "Just keep up, will you?"
"It would be easier for me to keep up if you stopped crushing my toes," Peter said through gritted teeth. They hobbled along in this way, bent over under the cloak and trying not to step on each other, behind Remus and Madam Pomfrey. They followed along close enough so that they could still see where the pair ahead of them was going, but far enough behind as to be out of earshot.
They followed along without incident, apart from one instance where Peter stepped on a corner of the cloak and almost pulled it off of them, causing both Sirius and James to curse rather loudly, and Remus to stop and inspect the hallway with suspicious eyes. Before long, they were walking through the Great Hall, still oblivious as to where their chase was leading them.
"Why would Remus need an escort outside?" James wondered aloud.
"I thought the grounds here were safe," Peter said.
"Never mind the escort," Sirius whispered. "Why does he have to go outside at all?"
Madam Pomfrey opened one of the large doors of the Great Hall and beckoned Remus through. Remus nodded and walked out the door, then was followed suit by Madam Pomfrey.
"Crap! She's gonna close the door!" James said. "Run!" In an entanglement of uncoordinated legs and cloak flaps, the trio bounded toward the door as fast as they could without throwing off their only means of concealment. It didn't look like they were going to make it; they were only halfway through the hall. "Pick up the pace!"
"I'm running, damn it," Sirius growled. He grabbed tighter onto the flap of the cloak that corresponded to him, and stretched his legs as far as they would go in a single stride. By some miracle, they managed to squeeze out the door before Madam Pomfrey closed it shut. She and Remus were already on their way around the front part of castle, as the three boys crouched to catch their breaths.
"We have got to learn how to run under this thing…" James said with a gasp. "And no more of those close calls."
"We didn't do...too badly, I reckon," Peter said, as he sucked in air greedily; he appeared to be the most winded of the three.
"I think I might have flashed someone my foot," Sirius said, breathing deeply. "But, that's not the point here; they didn't see us. C'mon, hurry it up before they get away." Together, they straightened up enough so that the cloak would not slip from their shoulders and tagged along behind Remus.
They kept a closer distance this time, in case the need to lunge across another wide space came up. The sound of their footprints, despite their attempts to stifle them, resounded rather loudly on the springy grass. The lights from the castle served as their only source of light, as the moon was hidden behind a curtain of clouds, and they didn't dare use their wands for illumination. They did their best to keep up with Remus and Madam Pomfrey, but two lanky teenagers walking with a shorter one between them don't walk very fast; it seemed to Sirius that the pair was walking faster now, as if in a hurry. Wordlessly, he picked up the pace, and the two others did their best to follow.
"It's getting hot under here," James complained.
"Live with it," Sirius offered.
"Is it just me," Peter began after a few minutes. "Or are they heading toward the Whomping Willow?"
"Don't be ridiculous," James looked down at Peter inside the cloak. "Why the hell would they go to the -" He stopped short. The sound of something swiping through the air had cut him off, and sent a pang of fear rushing to his stomach. He looked up ahead, and something between a groan and a whimper escaped his lips.
"They are going to the Willow," Sirius said. He looked to James, then Peter, and then back to the enormous tree. Its many twisted branches swung back and forth through the air, letting off a sound like a club being swiped through the sky. The twisted trunk was thickset, but it was impossible to get to it because of its twirling limbs. "What are doing here?"
"They're on the other side of the tree," Peter explained. "I can't see them that well; let's get closer." Quickly, they shuffled along to get a better look at what was going on; the trio made a wide circle around the Whomping Willow in order to avoid sustaining damage from its violently moving branches. All that reached their ears were the sounds of the great braches splitting the air overhead. The Willow, appearing somehow alert to their presence, began pounding the ground around it, sending great shudders across the grounds.
"You're gonna have to remind me," James said, gripping his end of the cloak tightly. "Who was the genius that decided to plant this – this thing here?"
"Some sadist, probably," Sirius said. "Who else likes seeing trees mash up everything about them?" Suddenly, the whir of branches over their heads stopped, and the night air was still once more. The three looked up, confused, to see that the threatening tree had stopped moving. "What the – hell?"
"It…froze?" Peter offered shakily.
"But how?" James looked down toward the roots of the tree, maybe to find the source of the tree's abrupt cessation to movement; instead of finding his answer, he saw Remus' shaggy head disappearing into a small crevice. His eyes shot to Madam Pomfrey, who had conjured up a chair and was now sitting on it, opening a magazine in her lap. This whole scene made little to absolutely no sense at all to James; he raised a brow in utter confusion and cocked his head to the side. "I'm sorry – did I miss something?"
"I think we all did, mate," Sirius said. He seemed to know what was going on just as well as James did. "But we can't stay out here; let's follow him in."
"You're obviously not very good with mass and volume, are you?" James said, placing a hand on his friend's eager shoulder.
"What do Potion's measurements have to do with this?" Sirius asked, only slightly intrigued.
James nodded in Madam Pomfrey's direction. "We can't all fit down that tight space at the same time. We'd have to take off the cloak to get through; wouldn't it be a bit of a surprise to her if she suddenly saw one of our heads simply descending into that hole?"
Sirius frowned. "Well, then there's gotta be something we can do to slip past her…a distraction?"
"Oh, yes, I'll just reach into my pocket here and pull out my handy-dandy distraction-making it," James said sarcastically.
"Don't be an ass, James, use your head," Sirius sighed. Then, a slight smirk appeared on his young face, and he reached awkwardly into his pocket with one hand, while holding up the cloak with the other. He produced his wand.
"Sirius, you're not going hex her, are you?" Peter said.
"Of course not, Pete," Sirius said. "I'm not that ruthless." He turned around, looking back the way they had come. "Well, you can't really see the tower from here, but it'll have to do." He flicked his wrist and whispered, "Accio flashlight!"
For a few seconds, nothing happened. James and Peter shared odd looks with each other and mouthed the word 'flashlight' a few times. Then, a small, pencil-sized tube zoomed into Sirius' outstretched hand, and he smiled triumphantly. He clicked on the pencil flashlight and shone it in the other boys' awed faces.
"What in Merlin's beard is that?" Peter asked.
"A flashlight," Sirius said. "I found it in the lavatory the other day. I asked that Evans girl what it was 'cuz it doesn't look like anything I've seen in the wizarding world before; says it called a flashlight, and runs on something called a 'battery'. She says Muggles use it to light up places – cool, eh?"
"Those crazy Muggles," James whispered. "Oy, when did you talk to Lily?"
"Easy, easy," Sirius said, raising his hands to show he had nothing to hide. "All I asked her was what this thing did, nothing else; I swear, mate."
"Yeah, but when was this?"
"Last week," Sirius said. James gave him an annoyed look. "Oh, come off it. She's the first Muggle-savvy person I saw the morning I found the thing. She's in our Divination class, isn't she Pete? If you'd taken Divination, James, we'd all be in the same class together. God only knows why you decided to take Muggle Studies, mate; it sounds like the most boring class on the planet."
"Not as big a time-waster as Divination," James quipped. "And I happen to have a keen interest in Muggles."
"Yeah, but I wonder: was that interest in Muggles born from the heart, or born from the desire to win over the fancy of a certain red-headed, Muggle-born witch, whom, if memory serves me, is anything but crazy about you?"
"Can we argue about this later?" Peter asked, sensing the danger written on James' face. "I think the tree's coming back to life." The words were enough to snap the other two boys out of their own thoughts and concentrate on the matter at hand. Nodding at the flashlight, Peter asked, "So, what'd you have in mind?"
Again Sirius smiled. He placed the lit flashlight on the floor and pointed his wand at it. "Wingardrium Leviosa!" The small stick of light rose into the air and sailed out from under the cloak. Sirius moved it quickly so that the spot of its origin could not be detected. It zipped right past Madam Pomfrey and her copy of Wizarding World Today magazine, ruffling the small train of fabric that hung off the back of her head. Sirius shone the light in her face a few times and then swung his arm, sending the flashlight speeding away into the dark night.
Madam Pomfrey was after the lamp in a second, giving her back to the Whomping Willow and chasing the offensive tool down with her wand. She retreated from the tree with every swift step she took, but seemed to be too bothered by the odd, invasive light to care. "Go, now!" James threw the cloak off himself and ran into the hole as fast he could, not even stopping to see how far Madam Pomfrey had gone. Peter was next, running as fast as his short legs could carry him, fearing that the tree might spring to life any second now and claim its revenge on the intruders. Sirius, having a bit too much fun with the flashlight, was the last to retreat into the small opening.
As soon as he was safely tucked into the niche, he pointed his wand in the general direction of the flashlight and the nurse that was so determinedly chasing it. "Accio, flashlight!" The flashlight returned to his hand at breakneck speed, and he pocketed it quickly. There was a loud crack overhead, and the Whomping Willow began to move once again. Sirius ducked with a curse and sat down on the dirt that made up the entire floor and walls of the hole, which, he now realized, was not if fact a hole.
"Blimey, it's a tunnel!"
"Yeah," James said. He folded the cloak as best he could and placed it in the small shoulder knapsack he'd brought along for that purpose. "I gather Remus went off this way, so that's where we have to go."
"Right, then," Peter said. He took out his wand and whispered, "Lumos." A bright tip of light appeared at the end of the wand, lighting up the dirt tunnel.
Sirius nodded, and lit his own wand. "I wonder how long this tunnel is…" With his question voicing their immediate thoughts, the three teenage wizards began the long walk down the dark passageway.
The wooden stairs creaked below his weight, which wasn't much, but apparently too much for the old steps. But making noise didn't matter anymore, in a sense, that's what he came here to do. Well, among other things, he reminded himself with a sad smile. Remus continued his walk up the stairwell, feeling less and less well with every step. His head was spinning, and his vision was blurring before him every few minutes. It was almost time.
He walked into a small room at the top of the stairs, the first one on the landing, and closed the door behind him. There was no furniture in here save for a canopy bed with a destroyed mattress and slashed veil, and a chest of drawers in the corner. A door in the left wall connected this room with the adjacent bedroom and to a small balcony outside.
The three windows in the room were boarded up, badly, but Remus was not about to complain. Silver light streamed in through the gaps in the boards, and he could tell that the cloud over the moon had begun to shift. He felt a pulsating sensation course through his body as the moonlight began to trickle into the room. Remus Lupin sighed, groaning at the sort of task this had all become to him. Another pulse radiated through his body, he began to lose focus.
Not much longer now…
"Just where do you reckon this tunnel leads to?" James asked. They had spent most of the journey walking in silence, occasionally one of them wondering aloud what business Remus could possible have in a place like this. None of them could come up with a plausible answer. Eventually, when they couldn't convince themselves that they had any idea just what Remus was up to, the questions turned to where they could be going.
"Search me," Sirius said with a shrug. "But, damn, it's long. How long have we been walking for, an hour?"
"Hardly," Peter said. "We've only been moving for about twenty minutes."
"Close enough," Sirius grumbled. "How far ahead d'you think Remus is?"
"Dunno," James said. "He had a good head start while we messed around with that light-flash thing."
"It's called a 'flashlight'," Sirius said. He was about to add something to tie up the comment nicely, but he was cut off when he noticed that his feet were beginning to rise. The tunnel was slanting upwards, toward another small crevice. "Oy, we're goin' up!" The trio hurried up, their energies replenished now that the end of the journey was in sight.
But it turned out be false hope: the trip lasted another ten minutes, which the trio spent crawling on their hands and knees. They'd had to resort to crawling one behind the other; the passage was too narrow for all three of them to walk side by side.
Then, finally, with stiff shoulders and dirty knees, they clamored out through what looked like a trap door in the tunnel's roof. James was the first to burst through the square door, and poke his head into wherever it led. It was dark, the windows were covered with old wooden boards, and the place smelled like musk. James brought up his wand hand and held it aloft to get a better view.
He let out a surprised whistle. "Blimey, it's a house! We're inside a house."
"Who's house, exactly?" demanded Peter. "There aren't any houses on the campus…well, Hagrid's, but that's not this far from the school."
"Well, it's obvious, isn't it?" James said, climbing out the trap door and into the house. He looked back down into the tunnel and annoucned, "We're in Hogsmeade!"
"Hogsmeade?" Sirius asked. He squinted in the dim wandlight and took a long look back at the dark tunnel. "How d'you reckon that?"
Peter hoisted himself out from the tunnel and sat down on the creaky floorboards next to the door. "This place is old, and full of dust; I don't think anyone lives here anymore."
"All their furniture seems to be here, though," Sirius observed. He closed the trapdoor carefully, making sure it didn't slam into the floorboards. "Maybe they moved out in a hurry."
"Wonder why?" Peter asked. The one thing the house lacked, he realized was any sort of decoration to prove that people have lived here. There were no pictures, no portraits, nothing to indicate that anything other than furniture had once stood on this floor. It gave the place a feeling of nostalgia.
"That's a mystery for another day," James answered. A sudden rattling noise from above caused all three to whip around, alert. It was a loud noise, followed by the sound of something sharp scratching lightly over the old wood. It left as soon as it had come, leaving the three friends paralyzed on the ground floor. James cast light to the stairs, he gulped. "That came from above…"
Sirius raised his head, seeing a door slightly ajar on the floor above them. "Let's have a look around the second floor – maybe Remus is up there." For a minute James and Peter exchanged glances in the wand light. "Oh, c'mon, what's the worse that could be up there? Hell, it might just be Remus."
"Wait," James said. "Turn off your lights. We can't risk being detected incase whatever's up there is not Remus." They turned the lights out, but kept their wands pointed in front of them. The stairs creaked with the combined weight of three teenage boys, but they kept ascending, regardless. "Where the hell is Remus?"
"Remus?" Sirius whispered up the stairs. "Remus, are you in here?" They did not receive any kind of answer. Once on the second landing, they tired calling his name out again, but to no avail. Again, they heard the unsettling rattling and scratching over the floorboards – this time, there was a sound that almost sounded like a growl. "This is gettin' weird…Remus, if you're trying to prank us or something, it's gone far enough, mate."
Peter took a deep breath, obviously a bit freaked by the whole incident. Trying to get some of his composure back, he poked his head through the first door on his right. It was room – complete with boarded windows, a bed, and a chest of drawers. "Let's look in here."
They walked into the room quietly, closing the door tightly behind them when they entered. "It's a big, empty room," Sirius announced. Noticing three windows on one wall, he walked toward the middle one; the wooden boards on this window seemed to have been placed rather haphazardly – there was a gap between the top and middle boards large enough for the top of his head. Curious, he took a peek outside, and blinked in surprise. All of Hogsmeade stretch out before him. Most of the houses were dark, except for a few buildings that were probably pubs. A good fifteen yards ahead of them, was a fence with a large rectangular sign on it. Even though the front sign was turned away from him, Sirius knew what it said.
"Heh…we're in the Shrieking Shack," he said. His tone of voice did not justify the peril of the situation. "This is the Shrieking Shack."
"What, seriously?" Peter said, going pale. By the look on his face, one could swear he was about to have a heart attack. "The Shrieking Shack? You mean, the Shrieking Shack?"
"Oh, calm down, will you?" James said, waving Peter's worries away. "Most of the stuff you hear about this place is made up on the spot by upperclassmen bullies who are looking for a laugh."
"You don't actually believe that stuff, do ya, Pete?" Sirius asked, turning to Peter with a nasty smirk. Before the boy could answer, Sirius looked past him, to the set of drawers in the corner. There was something resting above the chest that made Sirius furrow his brows and smile very oddly, as if only half of him was amused while the other half was completely and utterly bewildered. "Are those his clothes?"
James and Peter turned, looking at the clothes neatly folded atop the drawers and the pair of shoes next to them. James walked carefully to it, something of a smile plastered on his face. "Why, yes they are!" He said, sounding like a game-show host who had just delivered the winning prize to a contestant. He picked up the first article, which were Remus' jeans.
"Oh, please don't tell me he came all the way up here to prance about naked," Sirius said with a chuckle, with soon turned into a laugh. "That just doesn't sound like him at all."
"Our dear Remus," James said, snorting loudly. "A naturalist; who would have thought?"
"I certainly didn't," Sirius said. He picked up Remus' sweater, avoiding at all costs the pair of boxers that were beneath it, and held it up. "He even took the time to properly fold all his clothes, the ol' boy."
"I don't think I'll ever look at him the same way again," Peter said with a giggle. "But, what I don't get is why a staff member escorts him to do this…" A howl of laughter erupted from the boys, each of them thinking some different, yet equally as immature and teenage-boy-minded stunt. Their laughter was so loud, and the cause of it so profound, that they didn't notice the creaking of a wooden door, or the scratching sound over the wood again. If they had been paying any kind of attention, they would have realized that it was directly behind them.
Sirius brandished the sweater on his arm and shouted, "Oy, Remus! If you wanted to go 'round in the buff so badly," He turned, still laughing. "You could have –!" His laughter died in his throat, his joke was immediately forgotten. A rattled breath escaped his chest. "Holy. Shit."
A great beast, at least eight feet tall, was standing before them. It looked like a bear, but with more canine-like features. Its eyes were a menacing color of ice blue, staring at them intently. Brown fur covered its body, and barred teeth shone at them through a large snout. Drool fell from its mouth, pooling on the floor.
"What-the-bloody-hell-is-that?" James asked, pointing his wand out at the beast.
"It's like – it's like a – a giant bear-dog thing," Sirius said, loosing a considerable amount of articulation in the process of answering. He never took his eyes off it, most especially, its teeth. He was afraid to blink, thinking that it would give the animal reason to attack.
"It's the Grim!" Peter shouted. "It's the Grim! It's gonna kill us!" The panicked cry set the animal off, and it lunged at them. James and Peter ran off to the left of the room, bouncing over the bed and onto its other side, while Sirius dove for the door that led to the next room. The monster followed the bigger prize – James and Peter, and started snarling at them. James pulled out his wand, "Stupify!"
The spell hit the animal on the forehead, seeming to muddle its mind, but did little to repel the vicious creature. Angered by the attack from its prey, the bear-dog jumped forward, muscles rippling under its glossy coat. "Oy! Over here!" Sirius took a running start and jumped onto its back. He grabbed hold of the beast around its neck, digging his knees into its sides. "What did you do to Remus, you great brute? What did you do to him?!"
The animal howled, sending a chilling ripple down the backs of the three boys and reeled back on its haunches. With sharp claws, it attempted to trying to grab Sirius but failed to do so. In its attempts, it managed to slice open Sirius' shoulder; this only served to further encourage it. "Do something!" Sirius shouted through gritted teeth. "It's gonna keep attacking!" Peter thrust his wand forward,
"Stupify!" The spell hit the beast in the chest, making it bow and then throw its head back up in refusal to be defeated by magic. Sirius grabbed at the tufts of fur that sprang from the animal's neck, hoping to hang on. "Stupify!"
"It's not bloody working!" Sirius shouted. "Change spells! Change spells!" The monster heaved its back violently, sending Sirius flying into the set of drawers in the corner. He landed on his back, crashing into them powerfully, and fell to the floor. It sounded like Sirius was laughing for a moment, but James realized that he was moaning in pain.
"Sirius!" James called. The creature growled, lunging again toward the pair. James managed to kick it in the snout, and land another Stunning Spell. For a moment, he turned his head, and saw his friend sprawled on his back amidst broken drawers, the toppled dresser, and Remus' clothes. A wince was etched into Sirius' face, but he appeared to be unharmed from the fall. "Are you okay?"
"Bloody perfect," Sirius groaned. He stood up, wand drawn, not daring to take his eyes off the animal. His right shoulder was bleeding, but he didn't seem to care; he was more worried about their current situation. "Why isn't anything working on the wanker?"
"It's a magical creature, you dolt!" James shouted. He inched away toward the door. "It has natural defenses against magic!" He turned to the animal and pointed his wand at its chest. "The Stunning Spell seems to work for bits at a time; maybe if we Stunned him all together?"
"Then, what the hell were you waiting to tell us for, a written invitation?" Peter yelled. "Stun the bastard already!"
"On three!" James directed. "One! Two!" But he never got to three. The beast jumped again, emitting a blood-curling howl, and landed on Peter. "Son of a bitch!" James shouted in surprise. Peter began to cry out, moving his head out of the way of the snapping jaws. James threw himself against the animal's side, trying to knock him off of Peter, but he might as well have charged into a wall of bricks. James bounced off the animal and fell back onto the floor; the bear-dog was too immersed in its victim to even notice James.
"Levicorpus!" The animal rose into the air, still snarling. Sirius was holding the beast up with magic, but there was a definite strain in his posture. James grabbed Peter around the shoulders and pulled him back into a seated position. Peter's head rested against James' legs; he was pale and shaking. "Bloody bastard weighs a ton!" Sirius shouted. "Stun him 'fore I lose him, already!" It was useless, the strain was too much for Sirius, and the creature fell with a hard thud to the floor. Though Sirius had been half-expecting the floor to crumple and splinter under the beast's weight, he was not entirely surprised when it didn't, and the animal lunged at him.
"Make for the next room!" He dove to the right, making the animal step into one of the drawers with its front paw. As the animal crushed the wooden cabinet, Sirius made a mad dash into the opposite room. James threw Peter into the room and jumped in himself. Sirius slammed the door shut tightly behind him, panting.
"That's not going to keep him out," Peter said. "It's made of wood; he'll smash it down!"
"Thank you for those kind words of hope," Sirius said, catching his breath. "I know that's not gonna keep him out, you idiot. But something's something. Why'd you go and scream at it for?"
"It looked like the Grim!" Peter choked. "I thought it was gonna kill us!"
"That's not the Grim!" Sirius yelled. "The Grim's black! Black, Peter – that out there's brown! Don't you pay attention during Divination at all?" He looked about the room, seeing a bed, a desk, and a set of drawers along its walls. He frowned, a look of pain crossing his face. "Where the hell is Remus? You don't s'pose it…got to him, do you?"
There was no time to answer, the door between the rooms exploded into shards of wood and splinters, and the creature came in with a hungry growl. They leapt to their feet, pushing as far back from the door as they could. Peter stumbled backwards, falling over. He grabbed his wand and pointed it at the oncoming monster. James and Sirius stepped in front of him, wands drawn, and pumping with adrenaline. In a coordinated coincidence, the three let out a Stunning Spell.
"STUPIFY!!!"
A thick red jet charged at the beast readily, colliding head-on with the bear-dog. The force of the three spells combined sent the animal flying back into the adjacent room, and it landed in the pile of broken drawers. There was the sound of clattering wood and the animal let out a vicious snarl. The three saw it get back up on its feet and lumber around the room, almost as if it were drunk.
"We – it – I – I – the spell," Peter mumbled. He went limp, dropping his hand to the floor, and his wand into his lap. James could see the boy was drenched in sweat and breathing heavily. "Huge teeth – eat us all, it could have! Did you – see – huge teeth – the spell." Apparently the incident had reduced Peter to a bumbling idiot. His next words were incoherent and choppy, and a stream of tears fell from a single eye.
"Damn it, I think he's in shock," Sirius said. He grabbed Peter and hauled him up to his feet. "Can't understand a damn thing he's saying."
James shoved the awe-struck Peter in the shoulder, herding him toward the door that led into the hall. "C'mon, that's as lucky as we're gonna get with that thing. Let's haul ass – now!" Peter had to be half-dragged to the door between James and Sirius, who were listening to the lethargic grunts of the animal in the next room. "C'mon, Peter, pull yourself together, mate. You were great in there, but we still have half a town to run through, c'mon."
Sirius opened the door and pulled Peter through. "His nerves are shot…Pull it together, Pete; don't quit on us now. Hurry it up!" James noted the pained sound in Sirius' voice, and something tied itself up in his stomach. They were running out of the house – running out on the possibility of finding and saving Remus...if he was still alive. He lengthened his strides as they began walking down the hall as quickly as they could with Peter hanging on their arms. "He's growling normally again! We gotta leave right now, Pete, c'mon!"
Another howl filled the shack, shaking the rotting wood that made it up. Dust from the rafters fell onto their shoulders, and sprinkling their heads and shoulder. A symphony of coughs went up from them, yet they tried their best to not led the dust hinder them.
James pulled Peter as far forward as he could, seriously considering throwing him over his shoulder. "Don't stop walking, Peter! Just keep going forward!" Then, as if to spite James, the giant creature burst from the room into hall ahead of them. With a growl, it lunged for them again. "This is getting old!" James grabbed Peter under the armpits and threw him over his shoulder before running back into the room they'd just left. "Sirius! We're gonna haveta go around him! Get back into the next room, and then down the goddamn stairs!"
"You go first, you've gotta carry Pete," Sirius bolted to the door and opened it before James could react. "Hey, you big, filthy git!" He shouted as he stood in the hall. Sirius soaked his hand in the blood that was dripping off his shoulder and waved it around. "You smell that? That's blood! Yeah, that's right, I'm bleeding! Come and get me!"
"Sirius, what are you doing?" James shouted.
"Get the hell down the stairs!" Sirius shouted. "I'll catch up!" James nodded and ran for the connecting door. Sirius waited just long enough for the monster's attention to be entirely on him before jumping into the room and bolting the door shut. He ran for the next room just as the creature splintered the door and chased him in. His feet beat against the wooden floor, but he had no chance of outrunning it. "That thing's fast!"
In his stupor to make it out the door, Sirius tripped over a bit wood that had, minutes ago, made up the diving door. He fell flat on his face, his wand falling from his hand and rolling across the floor until it came to a stop under the bed. "Shit!" He cried out in pure desperation, feeling overwhelmed. He tried to roll over, but a pang of stinging pain shot up his shoulder, hindering his movement. He kicked out with his foot, "Get back, you beast!"
"Petrificus Totalus!" The spell missed, but it served its purpose: the beast turned abruptly, eyeing James in the corner of the room. Distracted, it threw Sirius aside and went for James. James swung his wand over his head. "Protego!" The charm went up around James, and the charging beast smashed head-first into an invisible wall. "That's right, you filthy animal! You can't get me now!"
"James, where's Peter?" Sirius asked. He was sitting up against the wall, a new set of claw scratches on his leg.
"I left him downstairs, in the tunnel," James said. The beast snapped at James' feet, not being able to understand why he couldn't reach him. It snarled and growled at him for a few tense minutes, trying to force the barrier down. Becoming bored with unattainable things, the monster turned back to Sirius, teeth barred and mouth drooling. "Oh, no you don't!" James flung himself onto the creature's back, grabbing hold of the pointed ears on its head and yanking them hard.
It howled in pain, squirming left and right to escape the pain in its head. James was holding on tightly, wrapping his legs around the monster's body. "Sirius, Sirius, you have to get up! Whaaaaa!" The beast knocked against one of the walls in the room in hopes of throwing James off his back. James closed his eyes and gritted his teeth; his side collided with the first wall the beast had seen and he cursed; every bone in his body rattled from the impact, but he held on.
Sirius tried to pick himself up, but his injured leg gave much sooner than he'd expected, and he toppled over onto his side. "Ow!" He grunted in pain and clasped his leg tightly. "Bleeding too much…damn it." He took a quick glance around the floor next to him for anything that might help stop the bleeding. "There…" he reached out for the first thing he saw – Remus' sweater draped over a crushed drawer. He grabbed it and brought it toward his leg. As he wrapped the sweater around the wound, he noticed for the first time that his sleeves were covered in the animal's fur. He winced in disgust as he pulled it off his sleeves in great tufts.
"Sirius, you git!" James cried out. "Sirius, don't just sit there; get the hell up! I can't take much more of this" –slam - "wall" – slam -"smashing!" James was rattled beyond belief: his shoulders and sides were burning, and his head felt like he had a crack running through his skull from so many encounters with the walls. He raised a hand to push his glasses back up the bridge of his nose and as soon as he hand, he yanked on the creature's ear again. "Why hasn't this thing tired out yet?"
Sirius wrapped the sleeves of the sweater in a huge knot, asking Remus to forgive the ruin of the one decent sweater he owned. I'll buy ya another one, he promised. Just please don't be dead/ The thought crossed his mind like a shooting star, and bowed his head, as if asking some holy deity to forget he ever said something like that. Sirius gripped sweater sleeves tighter, and tucked them in around his leg. As he inspected his makeshift cast, the shine of something on the sweater caught his eye.
He looked closely into the fabric of Remus' sweater – there was a hair stuck to it – a human hair. Sirius plucked it carefully, holding the single hair up to the light of the moon that fell into the dark room through the slits in the wood. It was Remus' hair, no doubt. He raised his fur-covered sleeve and held it close to the hair, making a careful comparison. They were the same color. An odd, sinking feeling fell into Sirius at that moment, and he looked up at the creature. His face contorted in bewilderment, and his jaw dropped. "James! James, what's the date today?"
James threw him an unbelieving look before being slammed into the wall again; something cracked, and he was sure the sound hadn't come his glasses. "So not the time to be asking -!"
"Just tell me the damn date!" Sirius urged.
"Twenty-fourth!" James shouted, he sounded in pain. "It's the twenty-fourth of November!"
"Full moon," Sirius said in a low voice. He looked up again: James had the creature by the ears and was beating it over the head with a section of a broken drawer he must have picked up off the floor. "James, stop hurting him!"
"And let it eat me?" James shouted. He brought the wood down on the creature's head again and again. The sound of the wood crashing with the creature's skull was sickening; Sirius never would have imagined that James had so much strength in his arms – he was Seeker, not a Beater, for Merlin's sake! "Not bloody interested!"
"James, it's Remus!" Sirius shouted. He tried to get up. "That thing is Remus! That's a werewolf! It's – he's a werewolf!" Sirius saw James let up the assault for a fraction of a second, and the beast took advantage of this. It slammed into the wall one last time and James, his grip weakened, flew over the werewolf's head; he back-flipped into the wall in front of him and crashed to the dusty floor. His glasses clattered to the floor beside him.
"Remus?" James said foggily. "No way…" He got to his knees and stared up at the snarling face before him. He was so close to its face that even without his glasses, every feature looked sharp. "You're right; it is Remus. Those are his eyes!" The creature snarled again. "Whoa, mate!" He pulled back sharply, landing on his butt with a cloud of dust. "Hey, Remus, it's me, James! James Potter! You know me, mate! I-I copied part of your Transfiguration essay last week, remember? Oy, Remus! Remus, react, damn it!"
James was locked in a staring contest of sorts with the werewolf. He didn't blink, and neither did it. His fear and urgency to do something sent his thoughts to a book he had read once. It had mentioned Hippogriffs, and how territorial they tended to be. The book had said that if a person stared one down, the creature would give the person consent to touch and ride it. This knowledge crept back into his head now, for some bizarre reason, and James thought that if he looked hard enough, he would be able to reach the part of the werewolf that was Remus Lupin, and, in a sense, tame the beast. He continued staring straight ahead, focused on the bright blue orbs that were the creature's eyes, feeling nervous sweat drip from his forehead and into his eyes, but he didn't blink.
"Remus…c'mon. You know us. Think back, Remus. Think back; we're your friends." The werewolf snarled dangerously, James kept staring despite the terrible gaze it was giving him. It barred its sharp teeth and breathed hard. James shuddered at the feel of the hot breath that played across his face, but he didn't move. He was determined to stare it down. "You've got us scared to death, here. Please, just remember." It growled and took another step. "Remus!"
"Remus Lupin!" Sirius called out. Both James and Remus the Werewolf turned at the tone of command in his voice. James saw a dark blot at the end of the room standing against a dark background. He grabbed his glasses from the floor and slipped them on, noticing that his left lens had a large crack running down its centre; he cursed, yet did not give it much thought. Sirius was standing at an odd angle due to his leg, but standing as straight as he could nonetheless. "We're your friends, Remus," he said. "You remember us? It's me, Sirius Black, and that right there's James Potter. The other bloke you attacked was Peter Pettigrew. You scared him half to death, mate. C'mon, think. James and Sirius? Do you remember us?"
The werewolf snarled and made its way toward Sirius. Drool was still falling from its mouth, and the ravenous look in his eyes had not gone away. It took careful steps, growling the entire way across the room. When Sirius was only a few feet away, the werewolf gotten on its hind legs and drew itself up to its full height. He was at least three full feet taller than Sirius, and outweighed him by about a ton of muscle mass.
"Sirius…" James warned. He stood up, realizing in the intent that his arm was broken, and one of his ankles was sprained. He took a warning step forward, careful not to startle the animal. "Be careful; he's a werewolf. I don't think he can't recognize friend from foe in this state."
"Then let's make him," Sirius said. He stood up as tall as he could, but his height and build couldn't hold a candle to Remus'. The werewolf started at him with hunger in his eyes, there was no doubt about that. Sirius was shaking all over, and a cold sweat was starting to form on his forehead. "Remus, do you remember us?" In response, the werewolf raised an enormous paw. Sirius winced, knowing that he hadn't gotten completely through to him. He stared into the animal's eyes. "Please, Remus, you have to remember; make an effort, please. Just try! I know you're buried deep in there somewhere, old friend!"
It was in that instant, right when the beast was about bring down his paw, that it faltered. A spasm wracked its body, making Sirius jump back into the wall behind him. Another violent shudder enveloped the werewolf, and he started backing up, writhing in pain. Growls of what could only be guessed to be anguish escaped the wolf and filled the room. James took the opportunity and hobbled over to Sirius. "Nice try, mate. For a minute, I thought you'd gotten through to him." He took a gasp of air, and wiped the sweat from his brow. The werewolf was now in the centre of the room, bent over in pain. Its head was in its giant paws, and howl after howl resounded on the old wooden walls. James looked on in disgust. "What d'you reckon's happening to him?!"
"I have no idea!" Sirius answered over the ear-splitting sounds. The room darkened as if in response to his question. He looked from the window to the agonizing werewolf. "It's the moon, James! The moon's gone, or hidden, or something! I think his werewolf phase is over for now." The creature bellowed once more, and dropped to the ground face-first. His body shuddered and twitched, and what they knew as their friend writhed howled literally in pain.
For what seemed like hours to the boys, it growled and scratched the floor in pain. Every now and then, it would claw at itself, as if in protest to the coursing pain that had flooded its body against its will. Then, the werewolf lay still, breathing heavily on the floor.
"Hey, does he seem smaller to you?" James said. His voice was about ready to crack; seeing someone suffer was not something that sat very well with him, especially when it was his friend. "As if he were shrinking or something?"
"And little less furry," Sirius remarked wryly. His intent to lift the solemn mood went no farther than that, simply because the small scene had taken it out of Sirius. He slid down the wall, as a sudden wave of exhaustion and relief washed over him. "I think we're safe."
"For now," James mused. He sat down next to Sirius, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose.
"Is Peter still in the tunnel?" Sirius asked.
"I'd guess so," James said. "When I got him down the stairs, he'd right about fainted."
"I don't think I can blame him," Sirius said. "I about soiled myself, mate."
"I think I did soil myself," James said. "I've never been up against something like that – ever. I left Peter down there and ran back up; I wasn't gonna leave you up to your luck, mate. No way in hell."
"Very touching," Sirius said with a smirk.
"Not at all," James said, blowing out a deep breath. He smiled, "If I'd left you up here, you'd get all the glory."
"You selfish prat," Sirius said, giving James a friendly slap on the head. James cringed, but laughed anyway. "God, I'm dead tired. This is not something I'd like to do on a daily basis."
"And I'm the selfish prat?" James said, nodding toward the shrinking and shedding shape of Remus. "Think of what he's got to go through every full moon whether he'd like to or not. The poor bloke."
"Poor bloke, my bruised ass," Sirius said lividly. "He could have told us something about this! I'm angry! Angry as hell! We're his friends, damn it! It would not hurt to have told us!"
"Oh, yeah," James said sarcastically. "It's easy to bring that into a conversation: 'Yeah, I'll help you with your Potions essay, and by the way, I'm a werewolf.' I doubt the essay would have gotten done." He nudged Sirius. "Give the guy a break. He's reserved enough as it is; this isn't something you trust the lady down the street with, either. I bet he was going to tell us someday, at his own pace."
"Yeah, the day we graduated from Hogwarts," Sirius said darkly. "And we're not the lady down the street – we're his friends. There's a lot of trust between us; I thought we were closer than that, is all. That's the only reason I'm fuming."
"So never mind that he tried to eat us tonight," James said in bemused tones. "It's him keeping his biggest life's secret from you that you're raving about."
"Damn straight," Sirius said.
"You're a really odd guy," James said, shaking his head. "But I think that's what we all like about you." He stood up, grabbing the blanket that was draped over the bed and dragged it over to Remus. His form was defiantly human now, apart from his ears and hands. As James threw the blanket over Remus' prone form, he winced when he realized just how injured Remus was – his shoulders and sides were bruised, no doubt the outcome of their constant wall slamming, and there was a bleeding bruise on the top of his head. "He's really hurt…I don't think you're supposed to be asleep if you hit your head."
"What?!" Sirius leapt up, hobbling over to Remus as fast as he could. He looked away as soon as he had laid eyes on the teen. "Oh, we really did him in, didn't we?" He bent down to Remus' face, daring to turn the boy onto his back. A deep purple bruise, outlined in a thin red line, took up most of chest. "That's were the triple spell hit him, huh? Oh, man…the only reason I'm not flipping out it because I can see he's still breathing, but, damn, we could have killed him!"
"Let's focus on what did happen," James said, feeling twitches of guilt course through him. "Hm? Oh, Sirius, he's waking up! He's waking up!" James bent low, taking a deep breath. He swallowed hard. "Remus, you there? Can you hear us?"
Remus stirred on the old floorboards, wincing as he felt his body begin to ache and pound with pain. He was conscious now, but he didn't understand why his body ached as it did. These were not the usual pains that accompanied a transformation; these felt like injuries: bruises, cuts, even. There was the usual burn from his bones, especially in his spine, and but the pounding in his head felt different. His skull felt as if it had been split in half, different parts of his ached; usually it was only the back part of his head that pained him, but now it was all of his head. In his stupor, he heard ragged breathing and voices above him. Remus opened his eyes and sat up, not at all expecting what he got.
Sirius jammed his fist into Remus' face hard, making Remus' head snap back, and Remus hit the floorboards once more. He was trying to make sense of what had just happened when he heard Sirius shout, "That's for not telling us about this, you stupid, stupid git!" He rubbed his closed fist. "But now that that's outta the way, how are you feeling?"
"Sirius…" James groaned. "How in the hell is that helping anybody?" Shaking his head, he turned to Remus. "You gave us a bloody scare, mate. We thought you'd come up here to run around in your birthday suit; imagine the surprise we got when we ran into Remus the Werewolf."
Remus, still not entirely all in his mind, sat up again. With one hand, he was clutching his bloody nose, while he kept the blanket around his waste tightly wound with the other. He was looking from James to Sirius as if they were figments of his imagination and nothing else. He said the first thing that came to his head, "Where's Peter?"
"He's in the tunnel," James said. "He fainted!"
"Fainted?" Remus said.
"You scared the crap out of him!" James then launched into a vibrant recount of the entire incident, illustrating the tale with grand arm strokes and gestures as if it had been a great story from a book. "And then I jumped on your back and you started slamming into walls!" There was a rush of enthusiasm in his voice; Sirius imagined it was just a way to get rid of the pent-up tension and stress.
Remus put up a hand to silence him. He looked emotionally hurt. "While I thank you for that vivid retelling," he said silently. "I didn't need to hear it. I know what I did, now, anyway. And there are two things I'd like to say to you. First of all: I'm truly sorry for this. You two are injured and bleeding and Peter's probably gone into a catatonic state or something by now."
"It was bound to happen," Sirius interjected with a smirk.
Remus shared a raised-eyebrow look with him and returned to his speech, "Now, while I might have caused the damage you see here before you, I'd just like to point out that both parties are equally guilty." He looked up sharply at his two friends. "I cannot understand in the slightest, why you three would come after me. If I left without telling anyone, it was for a reason."
"You can't just expect us to sit there while you wander off at night," Sirius argued.
"I thought I could," Remus said. "But, hoo-boy, you proved me wrong! Where, exactly, did you think I was going?"
Sirius shrugged, "Dunno. But I sure as hell didn't expect you to be on your way to transform into a werewolf! You know, Remus, you could have said something. If we knew, we wouldn't have come after you!"
"Oh, don't turn this on me, Sirius," Remus warned. "I've been doing this since my first year here, and I've never had a problem with nosy roommates before; which is ironic, seeing as how we've all been sharing a dormitory since our first night here. But, there's always a first time, isn't there? You know, there is such a thing as personal privacy."
"You mean, all these years and you never thought of telling us?" Sirius was positively indignant now, arms crossed over his chest and frown on his face.
"Don't be so selfish," Remus said. "That's what I think about the most! Ever since the day I met you two, I've been wondering when, if at all, I should tell you this."
"It's been three long years, Remus," Sirius huffed. "Surly the opportunity to tell us must have come up more than once in that time."
"I'm sure it has," Remus said. "But then there's also the fact that it's not the easiest subject to throw on the table."
"Well, this was one hell of a way to find out," James said. "Look, I respect, and to some degree, understand why you might have refrained from telling us this; but c'mon. Just how much longer were you expecting us to remain in our beds while you took a midnight stroll 'round the school?"
"If only that were it," Remus said. He sighed, hanging his head low. "But, no matter, I guess. The fact of the matter is that I'm a werewolf, and I come up here every full moon to transform for the night. And you know now, so there." He looked up again, a sad look in his eyes. "I knew it would come to this, too. Part of the reason I'd refrained from saying anything was because I was afraid."
"Afraid of what?" James asked.
"I'll understand if, for personal reasons, you decided that it would be better to part company."
"I'm going to punch you again," Sirius said. He sat down next to Remus, not looking him the face. "If you ever say something like that again, I swear I'll punch your lights out." Keeping his eyes on the floor, as if the dust that covered it were more interesting than what was going on closer to the ceiling, he draped an arm around Remus' shoulders. "You're my friend, Remus, and werewolf or not, I'll stick by your side."
"Yeah," James said. He smiled widely. "I don't care what you are. It never crossed my mind, not even for a minute, that this is where we had to call it quits. We're friends, you and me. And as such, we're going to stick it out 'till the end. That's the way it's gonna be; whether you like it or not."
Remus smiled sadly, holding back what felt like tears. "You idiots," he said. "Werewolves are harmless apart from on the full moon. So as long as you stay away from me on that day, we'll be safe. No more midnight runs to the Shrieking Shack, please. I don't think I'll be able to forgive myself if something happened one of you."
Sirius got up, "Shut up, you great sap. Nothing's gonna happen to us, alright? Now get dressed." He was quite for a minute, a pensive look over his face. "I promise we'll find a way to deal with this – monthly problem of yours." He snickered. "Your time of the month, if you will."
"Oh, please tell me you didn't just say that," Remus said.
"And what if I did?" Sirius taunted. "What are you gonna do, huh? Bitch at me?" He let out a good-natured laugh.
James chuckled along with him, offering Remus an apologetic look. "Sorry, mate, he's got you there. Hehehe."
"I cannot believe this," Remus said, standing up. He held the blanket around his waist as he walked around to where he clothes were now littered. He was soon dressed in his jeans, shoes and undershirt, but as much as he rummaged through the debris on the ground, he couldn't find his sweater. "Have you seen my sweater?"
"Yeah," Sirius said. "I'm sort of wearing it."
"What?" Remus turned, and saw his sweater wrapped messily around Sirius' leg. Large blots of blood spread over it from the wound underneath. "Oh, well, you can keep it. It looks good on you."
Sirius nodded in mock thanks. "Oh, thanks…I don't have enough sweaters in this color." He turned toward the door. "Let's get a move on. If we're lucky Peter will have returned to normal by now."
"What time is it?" Remus asked.
"No clue," James responded. "Why?"
"Usually Madam Pomfrey falls asleep," Remus answered. "I've found her snoring on that lawn chair more than once. Not something she'll admit to, though. I just want to make sure you don't get caught climbing out from under the tunnel." He shrugged and began leading the way down the creaky old stairs. "I trust you have the Invisibility Cloak with you?"
"Never leave home without it," James said, patting the knapsack by his waist. "But you'll have to distract her; we barley managed to get around her the first time." He landed at the bottom of the stairs and dropped into the tunnel to check on Peter. He was staring ahead, blank-faced, still drenched in sweat. James shoved him on the shoulder. "Peter? How are you feeling?"
"Better, I guess," he said. He stood up shakily. "What happened to you?"
"I believe that's a story for when we get back in the tower," Lupin said. He causally dropped into the tunnel. "What's up, Peter?"
"Remus!" Peter reeled back. "You're okay! Oh, you had us worried. We thought the thing had eaten you!" His face suddenly went pale and he looked up into the house. "Is it dead?"
"Ah, no, no it's not," Sirius said. He pulled the trapdoor down with him as he climbed back into the tunnel and shut it tightly. "But it's not going to hurt us anymore. C'mon, Pete, let's get going. We'll explain as soon as we're in the dormitories, okay?"
Peter nodded suspiciously, eyeing Lupin but not saying anything. The injured state that his friends were standing in convinced him that it would be better to get them healed up first and ask questions later. "Alright then, let's get going."
"Blood hell, so that was you?" Peter asked. They were back in their room now, as washed up as they could get, sitting each in their beds. Using some medical supply that Madam Pomfrey had given Remus for his injuries, they had bandaged themselves up as best they could.
"Yes, yes, that was me," Remus said. He looked guiltily from James' broken arm, which he had decided to go to Madam Pomfrey with first thing the morning with some tale about falling off his broom, and Sirius' mangled shoulder. Peter, while not suffering from a large, bleeding wound, had scratches and thick bruises on his arms from when Remus had pinned him to the floor in hopes of a good meal. "I'm sorry for all of this, really. I knew I was looking at three boys, but my mind didn't register who you were. There was a lot of shouting, but it was all incoherent to me. Again, I'm sorry."
"Stop apologizing already," Sirius said. "We know that's not the real you, Remus. And, really, it's James' fault for making us go."
James threw a pillow at Sirius. "Don't blame me for your wandering antics."
"No, but seriously," Sirius said. "We'll find a way to get around this thing. I promise. Just give us some time. And if any of you let slip of this to anyone – and I mean anyone – I'll personally show you the wrath of a Black." With that ominous warning handing over their heads, Sirius got under his blankets and fell back to sleep in no time. His exhaustion was too great to allow another moment of his time to be wasted on talking for now. The other two boys followed suit, the room soon filled with the sounds of their heavy breathing and Sirius' loud snores.
Remus flopped back down onto his blankets. The sun would be rising soon, but seeing as how it was the weekend, he didn't mind too much. His mind was reeling from the night's event, of which he felt both terribly responsible for and happy about. It looked like really had friends, real friends. They didn't care that he was a werewolf, after all. Hell, they were even going to find a way to make things less awful for him. Remus smiled up at the wide canopy above him. "Thanks, then."
And they did find a way to get around it. But that, as I'm sure you know, is a story for another time.
