Part 2: Rescue In The Moonlight
James came down the stairs of the Gryffindor boys' dormitory at a sprint, the muscles in his legs pumping hard. It was lucky he was as athletic as he was, or he would never have been able to sustain this pace for as long as he needed to. He heard another set of running footsteps on the stairs behind him, matching his stride, and knew Sirius was following him.
"James, please-" Sirius called after him desperately, but James redoubled his pace.
"Go tell Dumbledore, if you want to help," James yelled back at Sirius without turning round as he crossed the floor of the common room.
He reached the portrait hole, and he saw Sirius as he clambered out. Their eyes caught for a moment, but no more. "And get ready to say sorry to Remus." Sirius nodded, then James slipped through into the waiting corridor.
James' hurried footsteps resounded off the stone walls as he twisted and turned without a single thought to his location, having spent so much time poring over the map since its creation that he knew the blueprint of Hogwarts pretty much by heart. He descended floors and floors until he finally reached the level of the dungeons. It was here that he found Peeves, happily securing what looked like puréed slug in buckets above the entrance to the Slytherin common room. Whilst he wholly supported Peeves in what he was doing, James felt that he might need a little of his help.
"Oi, Peeves!" He hissed, shifting his weight anxiously from foot to foot.
"Students out of bed, should tell someone," Peeves grinned evilly, floating at James' eye level about a foot away. James snorted.
"C'mon Peeves, I need you to distract Filch for a minute."
Peeves looked rather unimpressed, and an evil tint glistened in his eye.
James sighed, tapping his foot. I haven't got time for this. "I'll get you another load of dungbombs from Hogsmede next week if you do it,"
Peeves rubbed his little hands together gleefully, then zoomed off to wherever Filch was with an evil cackle. James nodded and carried on.
He soon reached the door to his potion's classroom. Slughorn, he knew, was far too trusting to lock his door, and it swung open at the touch of James' hand. He leaned against it to push it open, and stumbled into the damp darkness. He checked his pockets realising with exasperation that he had not picked up his invisibility cloak in his rush from the common room. He cursed under his breath, and kicked a desk.
Doesn't matter, you've got to get Snape.
The thought came from no where, but it was true- he had wasted far too much time already. He made for the thin window at the top of the left hand wall of the room, stretching up to grip the sill. The stone was smooth, difficult to get purchase on. His fingers danced blindly until they at last found the tiniest of cracks in the granite, which he gripped onto with a grimace and pulled. He struggled, but managed to force his head through the window (open, like the door) and flailed and wiggled until he was through it and face down in the soft grass next to the castle. He rolled to his feet, and stumbled in the direction of the willow.
To his dismay, the ominous silhouette of the willow against the dying rays of the setting sun was accompanied by another smaller, gangly shape, with lank hair and a long hooked nose. Snape was jogging towards the willow at a frightening place, fast enough and close enough that he was sure to get inside before James would. James cursed and he tried to up his speed to no avail: he was already at his limit.
"Snape!" He yelled in desperation. He instantly regretted it, though, when he found himself struggling for breath even more than he had been before. He could not help it, his pace slowed.
"Snape, stop!" He clutched at his side, a stitch slicing him from shoulder to hip. There was no way he could keep this up.
Snape spun around for a moment, his features picked out in the orange light, and saw James half-running, half-falling towards him, but he did not stop. James saw the hint of a sneer on Snape's lips as he slipped between the roots of the Willow, into the blind darkness of the tunnel beyond.
"Shit," James swore for the third time that evening, as the strength went from his legs and his feet went out from beneath him. He landed heavily in the still-warm grass, his breath hitching in his throat. He clawed at the grass for a second, scraping the bottom of the barrel of his last energy reserves, and forced himself shakily to his feet. His legs wobbled threateningly, but held. He staggered forward, a fist clenched at his side. Thankfully, he did not have far to go, not more than fifty or so meters. He could go that in less than a minute, even at this pace. But there was still the nagging thought at the back of his mind that Snape could reach the end of the tunnel and charm open the door before he go there to stop him. It was possible, scarily so, but James could not spur himself to go any faster.
Something caught James' foot, and he looked down to see a twig encircling his ankle. He barely had time to register his horror before it jerked away and he found himself once more lying on his back. Another, thicker branch hit the ground beside him with a thwack and he took that as ample warning, rolling swiftly out of the way, into the tunnel.
It was quiet and still in the darkness of the tunnel, nothing like the hellish place he remembered from his second year, and it smelled only of earth. The air was cool and sharp; it gave James a new will to continue and a new strength.
The scuffling of feet ahead caught his attention: Snape.
He crawled forward close to the ground, shuffling franticly with his trainers to advance. It was hard, slow work, but Snape did not sound like he was widening the distance. James called out to him again with vain hope.
"Snape, don't go in there!"
The other boy laughed, unaware, naive and obnoxious. James' blood simmered for a moment, but he forced himself to keep trying to save the life of the boy he hated, not for Snape, but the other life that rested on his safe return from the bowels of the willow.
James crawled on until the tunnel was wide enough that he could stoop on two feet, when he ran lopsidedly. He could no longer hear Snape's footsteps in front of him, only thrashes and yells from somewhere above. The moon had risen, Remus was beginning to transform. James urged himself onward feverishly.
Suddenly, not far ahead, he heard the creak of old hinges giving way and a footstep on the wooden floor of the Shrieking Shack. James stiffened in fear, and sprinted as well as he could in the cramped darkness. There was no more time, if he took much longer, Snape would die.
Like a miracle, he saw the door before him as he turned the next bend, Snape's tall figure shrinking through it, and he tore towards it. A howl ripped the air.
He's transformed, James thought needlessly.
Barely across the threshold, James cast his gaze to the stairs, where he could just see Snape's feet disappearing from view. He took a running jump, and his fingers brushed the coarse material of Snape's trouser leg. He held on to it with grim determination, and Snape was forced to take a step back. From this angle, James could see him much better, though he did not appreciate view he had straight up Snape's nostrils, and he noticed a black object dangling on a strap at his side. A camera. James made a mental note to severely beat the asshole up at the first opportunity, for being so bloody obnoxious.
"Let go of me, Potter!" He whined. James pulled harder on his ankle and Snape stumbled again. He tried to tug his foot away, but James was having none of it.
"Get away from there, Snape." He cocked his head in the direction of the stairs Snape was trying to ascend and the door beyond, behind which Moony would just be coming to his senses, bloodlust his only emotion. Sure enough, a moment later there was a heavy crash from the door, followed by an angry snarl.
Snape sneered hatefully. "That's him, isn't it? A bloody werewolf, a monster!"
James dug into his pocket with his free hand, withdrawing his wand and pointing it threateningly up at Snape. There was another crash at the door, and the building shook. "Don't talk about Remus like that, bastard, you don't have a clue, not a clue!" James shook with rage, trying to keep his voice level to a minimum so he didn't agitate Moony any more than he all ready was. "You will get out, now!"
Snape did not move, eyeing the door. It seemed to James that he was weighing up whether he could chance another moment to get a picture of 'the beast', or whether he should bite the bullet and leave. James seethed, and let go of Snape's ankle as he swung round and got up the stairs in two long bounds, grabbing the back of Snape's cloak as he did. Snape gagged as James pulled him towards the door, and his arms flailed, trying to get a hold on his assailant.
Barely metres from the door, there was another thud from above, followed by a crash as the thick wooden door was torn away from its hinges by an unstoppable force, roused by the scent of human sweat and blood in its domain. James broke into a run, his fingers leaving Snape's hood. He had expected Snape to follow, as would be his base instinct. But then he heard a click, and a flash lit up the passage. He turned around to see Snape, jogging backwards, his camera poised as Moony bore down upon his, close enough to attack. There was not time to hesitate or to think of his friend, James fired a jet of red light at Moony with a yell of 'Stupefy!'. He was all to aware that it would not stun the werewolf as it would a normal human, but he hoped that the pain and dizziness would provide enough distraction for him to make his escape with Snape.
Moony let out an angry yelp of pain, and fell back, snarling. "Claustro!" James exclaimed, his wand pointed at the door between the house and the tunnel. It slammed shut with surprising force, but James knew from experience that it would not hold for long, and Moony would soon join them in the tunnel.
Snape stood there, gaping at the now-closed door. "You tried to-"
"Move!" James cut him off running for the exit. This time, Snape followed him, painfully aware of the bangs of the door behind them both. Adrenaline coursed through James' veins like liquid fire, and soon he burst out into the moonlit night, Snape not far behind. A mournful howling echoed through the air as Moony ceased to pursue them, cheated of his prey by the sheer width of the tunnel, which James was once again hugely grateful for. He lay on his back in the cooling grass, breathing heavily and staring up at the full moon hatefully. For a short moment, while he got his breath back, he forgot that Snape was there.
He was not allowed to remain ignorant of the other boy for long, though, as Snape sat up, nearer the willow than James, with an angry scowl contorting his already unfortunate features.
"You tried to kill me with that... thing! You and Black, you-"
James moved from his prone position to a crouch, which was strangely threatening when you considered that he was actually lower down than Snape, his face pressed close to Snape's. "I saved your life, Snivellus. I saved it."
"Only because your pet would have been put down, not for any moral reason!" Snape spat, not in the least intimidated. "Black still tried to kill me!"
James shoved him backwards and got to his feet, seething with righteous rage. "You disgust me, worm. I am not surprised Sirius wanted to teach you a lesson, but I know he didn't want you dead, not like this. He wouldn't waste Remus on scum like you."
"And you pretend that that beast is better than me? You think you can get away with this? You can't hide him forever; the school deserves to know what monster lives among them!"
"Remus is worth more than you in every way- he's twice the man you will ever be!" James trod hard on Snape's hand, which was outstretched at his side to support him.
"'Man'," Snape scoffed, a sneer returning to his face. James ground his foot harder.
"And if you ever say a word, I will kill you myself."
He turned and made to stride back to the castle, and he would have done so if at that moment he had not walked straight into the Headmaster, accompanied by a sheepish-looking Sirius. Professor Dumbledore's half-moon spectacles were white in the moonlight, and his eyes were devoid of their usual twinkle. He looked coldly from Snape to Sirius, though James was spared of this glare. The elderly man's expression was hard, utterly un-amused, and there was not even a hint of a smile on his lips.
When he spoke, his voice shook with disappointment and, a rare thing to hear from the professor, anger. "Boys, come to my office immediately. I wish to speak with you all."
AN: I am always surprised by how much I love writing James in this story; I generally dislike him as a character otherwise. Hmm. Anyways, this is the penultimate part of the story, and I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. Still friends with that review button? Then I think you owe it a friendly click. Haven't met yet? No time like the present to introduce yourself!