"Really!" exclaimed Minerva, entering the office just in time to see her charge drop to the ground. "I find the boy wandering the grounds alone, he practically drags me here, and then knocks himself out in terror? Laying aside my doubts about his Gryffindor courage, the boy is quite mad, Albus!"
Dumbledore had sprung up from his desk and bent over the boy. Suddenly he straightened, hushing the deputy headmistress with a quick gesture.
"I need a large steel box, Minerva. Bars along one side, strong as possible; make it Unbreakable."
Bewildered, but knowing better than to question the headmaster, Minerva swept aside a few tables with her wand and set to work immediately as Dumbledore bent over the boy again, carefully moving his wand in a strange, repetitive pattern.
"Is it done?" he asked thirty seconds later. Minerva was astounded at the tension in his voice.
"Yes. Albus, what on earth…?"
"Move aside."
Minerva stepped to the side and gasped. The dark silhouette against the carpet was nothing like her student. Dumbledore swept carefully around the lightly breathing body, avoiding the twitching limbs, and levitated it into the vault; the bars clanged shut just as the creature began to stir.
Not a boy. A wolf.
Minerva clutched at her heart and collapsed rather heavily into an armchair. Dumbledore conjured another almost absentmindedly from midair and did the same. Had she been able to tear her eyes from the box, Minerva would have noticed the lines around his eyes, more pronounced than she had ever seen them. They sat in silence for a full minute before he spoke.
"You questioned his courage, Minerva? I think that was one of the most courageous acts I have ever witnessed."
This was enough to shake the deputy headmistress from her shock.
"Yes, but still quite mad," she exhaled. "Why did the idiot boy not tell us before? Why didn't he—I found him on the edge of the Forest, Albus. He must have been going to—but why didn't he tell me?"
"Would you have believed him?"
"Of course not, this is Sirius Black. Oh Merlin, Albus, how long do you suppose this has been going on?"
"I haven't the faintest idea, Minerva." Dumbledore's worried tone carried an edge of bitterness. "Parents like his…Leaving the boy to fend for himself at Hogwarts…no doubt more worried about the shame of lycanthropy than—"
Dumbledore's words were drowned out in a snarl. The werewolf had regained consciousness, it seemed, while the professors were conversing. Minerva jumped and shuddered as the werewolf threw itself against the bars of the—yes, it was a cage—slavering. The lively, mischievous child she knew, the boy with the wide, reckless smile and unruly dark hair, who wreaked havoc during class time, aced every test, and drove her near to insanity during his many detentions—he was utterly unrecognizable.
Sirius' eyes, ordinarily dancing with whatever prank he would be pulling off next, had transformed into something alien. Green-tinted gold now stained the deep brown irises. The pupils had contracted to slits and seemed to promise a predatory savagery. Designed for the semi-darkness of a full moon, they reflected light like a cat's. Curved claws protruded from four bony paws, each larger than a man's hand, and shaggy dark fur coated the enormous, muscular body. Though Minerva was an Animagus herself and knew well the principles behind the magical transformation, it seemed impossible that such mass had expanded from the slight frame of a thirteen year-old boy.
"As I said, Black was heading into the forest, carrying this," she gestured helplessly at the abandoned Cleansweep, which she had somehow retained in her grasp during the mad dash through the castle. "I stopped him, of course—and he was panicking, Albus, going absolutely…"
"Loony?" suggested Dumbledore drily, watching with pity as the wolf threw itself against the bars again.
She shuddered and pointed her wand at the window, where the full moon could be seen rising into view over the forest; a blind snapped shut over the glass.
"It won't help—"
"I know it won't," she snapped, drawing a hand across her eyes. "Albus…I should have listened to him. Another foolish prank, I thought. I should have realized…"
"You behaved as any responsible staff member would have," Dumbledore returned calmly, not taking his eyes from the werewolf. "Please continue; I would like to know precisely what occurred."
Minerva tried to block out the snarls as she thought back.
"I caught him near Hagrid's garden. He panicked and tried to escape on his broomstick, but of course I put a stop to that…and then I threatened to bring him here," she recounted slowly, remembering. "And…I thought it was strange at the time, of course—he calmed down almost at once. Practically dragged me here, Albus, I was certain he was plotting to make a break for it or some such thing…I suppose he could feel it coming on…"
She flinched as Sirius attacked the bars with renewed enthusiasm.
"I shudder to think what could have happened…" she broke off.
"It would have happened, if he had not thought so quickly," said Dumbledore quietly. "Certainly he is strong enough to force his way into the castle—but only if the doors were unbarred—"
"—they were. I was outside, reinforcing the wards around the forest. Hagrid says they've weakened enough that small creatures are getting through, and you know the enchantment is most potent when created at the—"
"…full moon. I believe we have, at any rate, solved the mystery of why the Forest inhabitants are so restless as of late."
"I suppose so," Minerva said grimly.
Sirius howled suddenly, a wild, plaintive sound that tore at the heart in mingled fear and pity. Dumbledore and Minerva raised their wands as one and pointed them silently at the door to block the sound from the rest of the castle, but neither moved to silence the werewolf. The howling lasted for long minutes, and then the wolf shook itself frantically and dashed against the bars again. They shook but held.
Sirius snarled, and the yellow eyes glowed with hatred.
"I will stay up with him," Dumbledore said wearily, passing a hand over his eyes. "Your spellwork is as impeccable as always, Minerva, but werewolves are notoriously resistant to magical binding."
As though it had heard him, the wolf bit and scratched at the bars, and then, flinging itself on its back in a fit of aggression, at its own limbs. Minerva watched in horror as the claws scored deep grooves through the heavy fur, accompanied by sharp barks of pain.
"Albus…isn't there something you can…"
"Stupefy," said Albus wearily, raising his wand.
The jinx hit the wolf—Minerva found it more and more painful to think of this savage creature as one of her students—in the eye. It swayed on its feet for a moment, dazed, and then fell with a resounding crash. Within seconds it was stirring again.
"So his hex…" she said, watching without really knowing what she was saying.
"Was for our sakes. To buy us a few seconds. I cannot imagine that any child of Orion and Walburga has been raised with a glowing opinion of my reputation," said Dumbledore in a slightly hardened tone, and Minerva again felt cold anger from him at the thought of parents who would leave a child to fend for himself in this state. "However, he seems to have had the sense to realize there was only one wizard in this castle with the skill to stop him."
"He must have thought you'd…"
"Kill him, yes. That would be the response of most wizards." Albus seemed to realize how bitter his words sounded, because after a moment he added heavily, "Not their fault, of course, Minerva. There are few methods to subdue a werewolf without killing him, none of them well known, and all of them temporary, as we have seen."
"He can't stay at the school."
"Not under this arrangement." Dumbledore turned back to the cage, speaking so softly Minerva could barely make out his words. "He has demonstrated that the lives of the other students mean more to him than his own, but he has been thoughtless and foolhardy, there is no escaping it. He has no idea of the risks involved, Minerva…The forest is vast, but that is no guarantee... If ever he had gotten into the castle…and Hogsmeade on the other side…"
"I dislike the idea of expelling the boy as much as you do, but you are quite right. I can see no way around it."
Dumbledore, for once, was not listening.
"Hogsmeade."
"He can't spend every full moon locked in a box, slashing himself to scraps of fur. We'd never keep it from the staff…What did you say?"
"There's an old boarded-up shack in Hogsmeade, Minerva, remember?"
Her eyes narrowed.
"I suppose…you're not thinking, surely…"
"I shall personally reinforce it with every charm at my disposal. It would be a simple thing to excavate a passageway from the grounds to Hogsmeade. Done properly, not even a werewolf could penetrate the protections."
"Yes, very well, but how would you keep him in the house, Albus? How would you prevent any other student from coming across your tunnel?"
"We guard the entrance with something stronger than a werewolf." Dumbledore said this in the same matter-of-fact manner in which Minerva was going to insist on something rather stronger than tea in the morning. Assuming, of course, that this night ever ended.
She could feel a headache coming on. "Albus, please tell me this plan doesn't hinge on the fact that 'It's perfectly safe so long as we make a rule that all students will obey, because teenagers are so passive and compliant by nature'?"
"Nonsense, Minerva. I also give our students credit for survival instinct."
The deputy headmistress almost groaned aloud at this. However, as another pained snarl drew her eye again to the staggering werewolf, Minerva couldn't bring herself to quash the spark of hope that leapt in her heart for him.
"What did you have in mind?"
A/N: As no doubt you noticed, this story contains an overabundance of drama. I'm not even going to apologize.