Disclaimer: I do not own Hogwarts, gargoyles, Dumbledore or and of the Marauders. I simply created Shane and Kenneth. So, sadly, I own nothing more than plot ideas, the two characters mentioned above and the concept of the Imperator Creatura.

Shane Spencer

December 31st, 1976

My mind was racing. Like two little cars were in there, flooring it and racing to the finish line. But the finish line was hundreds of thousands of miles away. In one car was my new "friend", Remus Lupin. In the other, Kenneth Ayers. My eyes floated to Kenneth's car and I went through the day he died again.

I glanced over to the small, wooden turtle that hung by a leather rope from the head of my lamp. The turtle that had belonged to Kenneth.

I thought back to Christmas Eve, the day he'd died. So many things had happened that day, but Kenneth's death was the most important, heart-breaking and confusing. Dumbledore said he was only thirty-two years old.

I tried to remember everything Dumbledore had told me about him. Kenneth Ayers, thirty-two years old, married once fresh out of school, divorced with a son he never saw. According to the old man, Kenneth tried to make everything humorous. He was always cheerful. He was brave. He gave his life for someone he didn't know.

I snatched the necklace and stared at it. I felt guilty, as I should. Dumbledore had told me it wasn't my fault over and over, but I refused to agree. I was the reason he had died. If I hadn't walked out that door at Lavazza, Kenneth could still be with us, and I might've actually met him.

I set the turtle down and grabbed the notebook containing the letter I'd written him. I wrote it the day before his funeral and had planned on placing it with him, but decided against it at the last minute.

I flipped the cover open and stared at my handwriting, slanted and written in emerald green ink. The letter was several paragraphs long and explained who I was and how grateful I was for what he did. I told him he was my hero, and I was going to try my hardest to keep him from having died in vain.

I stared at the page determinedly. Then, after several moments, I shut the notebook and set it in front of my on my bed. I stretched to pull open the first drawer in my nightstand. I stuck my small, pale hand inside and felt around for the ink well Dumbledore had given me. I eventually found it and set it on top of the notebook. Then, I stuck my hand back in and found the quill to match, which Dumbledore had also given me. I didn't get it at first, but I soon learned what it was used for.

I quickly uncorked the ink well and dipped the tip of the quill into the emerald pool. I set the tip on the yellow cover of the notebook and quickly scribbled in three words: Letters to Kenneth. I drew a few pictures of turtles (horrible ones at that) around on the sea of yellow, plus a cross.

I smiled sadly at the cover and set my quill on the nightstand.

"Goodnight, Kenneth." I whispered as I pulled my thumb across one of the turtles and smudged its shell. "Sleep well." I set everything aside and set my head on my pillow, my brain shutting down and my eyes falling shut easily.

I rubbed my eyes as I walked through the stone halls of Hogwarts. I'd only gotten a total of three and a half hours of sleep, so my eyelids felt heavy. Seeing as it was five in the morning, the hall was silent. My Converse made a loud tapping noise on the marble flooring that echoed through the corridors and my hands were tucked into my pockets if they weren't at my eyes.

I stopped in front of the gargoyle that led to the Headmaster's Office. "Petrol." I said the password and the gargoyle nodded at me, the sound of age-old stone against age-old stone coming from its neck in the process.

"Good morning, Miss Spencer." It said as it slid to the side, the grinding erupting again.

"Morning, Tutela." I said as I walked passed it and stepped onto the staircase that moved like escalator, sounding bored. I let a yawn pass through my pale lips as the stairs would around a pillar and eventually stopped at a large, oak door. I raised my fist and rapped on the door three times. They swung open and the familiar, silver bearded old man stood, smiling at me.

"Good morning, Shane." He said, looking at me over the glasses on his crooked nose.

I smiled slightly. "Morning, Professor. Sleep well?" My hand moved to the turtle around my neck and rubbed the smooth wood. It was a newly acquired habit.

"Always." He stepped out of his office and grabbed my arm gently, pulling me back down the stairs. "I'm guessing that you were not so fortunate?"

I chuckled and nodded. "The dreams again." I said as I looked over at him. "Always a bright green light and then Kenneth lying on the ground."

Dumbledore's hand sat on my back, guiding me through the hallways. It would have freaked me out a few days ago, but I had spent so much time with him lately he was like the grandfather I'd never had.

"Your guilt still lingers, does it?" He asked, patting my back soothingly. "Kenneth made his own choice, he knew what he signed up for."

"Yes, but I stepped out that door." I came to a sudden stop and looked at the Professor. "If I would have just believed you, if I would've opened my mind a little bit, he could still be here. I might've met him."

His bright blue eyes bore into my golden ones, pulling out every aspect of my life and twisting it around his frail finger. I stood strong, holding my gaze.

"If he had lived, his life would not have meant anything to you." He said in a calm yet strong voice. "You wouldn't have given him a second thought if he hadn't have died."

I thought about it. When Kenneth died, I was in the process of running from Dumbledore and whatever lies I thought he'd been telling. I stopped and willingly went with in the end, but could it have been because the guilt had already settled on my skin and slowly began to sink into my soul? I had been arrogant enough. Dumbledore was right.

I nodded and walked up beside him again, following him out to the grounds.

An old, leather-bound book with faded gold writing was held tightly between my hands. I hated the damn book. I hated its smell, texture, look and, of course, the words written upon its crumpled, yellowing pages. Of course, Dumbledore said I had to read it.

The book was titled The Harsh History of the Imperator Creatura. It was all about my kind. What we've done (some good but mostly bad), where we come from and even a little bit about our beginning. Supposedly, the first Imperator Creatura had been born from a wizard and the being titled Bestia, meaning animal.

The author of the old, decrepit book, Gruntilda Ciaran, had obviously been racist about my kind. She had called us "filthy, mangy, mutt-like creatures" many, many times in the book. I was neither filthy nor mutt-like. Maybe a little mangy at times, but nothing like her description.

Anyways, I walked into the great hall. Breakfast had just started, and very few people were inside. Dumbledore sat at his regular spot, conversing with Professor McGonagall. Strangely, my seat in between the two had disappeared. I always sat beside Dumbledore.

His eyes moved to me, instantly recognizing the look of confusion. He smiled and looked at the table to his right, and my left. It was the Gryffindor table. I paid more attention to accuracy and found that Remus Lupin was sitting at the table, a Daily Prophet against his nose.

I looked back to Dumbledore with my best puppy-dog face, but his body heaved as if he was chuckling and his hand waved me away. I frowned and progressed to the spot halfway through the table that my "friend" was sitting at.

I sat across from him, slamming the old book down on the table and gaining stares from the few people in the room. "Morning, Remus." I said as I produced a fake smile.

"Good morning, Shane." So we were on a first name basis. He smiled, remaining oblivious to the fallacy that was my mouth. "I don't mean to sound rude, you're always welcome to sit with me, but don't you have a spot up there?" He pointed to the staff table.

"Apparently, not today." I mumbled. I opened the book in front of me to where I'd placed the red, satin marker and grudgingly looked to the top of the left page.

"Might I ask what you're reading?"

I glanced up for a second, and then replaced my eyes on the page. "The Harsh History of the Imperator Creatura." I answered, scanning the page for needed details. "Dumbledore wanted me to learn about myself, but this damn book is making me feel like an outlaw."

He nodded. "I know that feeling," He said. "There are many books out there about werewolves, and more than half are full of discrimination. Just keep your head up and be proud of what you are."

I sighed. I didn't really want to admit it, but he was right. The words in this book that discriminated against me were merely the opinion of the author. I just had to block them out and be proud of myself.

Suddenly, loud voices pulled me out of my thoughts and back into reality. I looked at the large doors to the Great Hall and saw three boys.

The first boy, and the loudest, had medium-grown, black hair. He was tall, but not lanky. In fact, he looked to be quite well built. His grey eyes were full of humor and childish thoughts. Something about him screamed at me, telling me that he was dangerous. By the way he earned nervous glances from most of the girls in the room and furious glares from the rest, I estimated that he was a player.

The second boy, and the second loudest, looked rather familiar. He had shaggy black hair that stuck out at odd angles and his hazel eyes were much like the other boy's, playful and jubilant. Round, wire glasses covered those eyes. He was tall as well, but not nearly and large as the other one. A sense of pride and arrogance floated around him, but I could tell he was a good soul. He had changed (this was just a hunch), but he took it as a process instead of an instant switch.

The last boy, who was silent, seemed to be uncomfortable with the two loud boys. His mousy, brown hair was grown to his shoulders and gelled back. Several warts covered his face. He was short and pudgy, with fat hands and large, watery blue eyes. He was adorable in a really weird, sick way. But, he gave off a feeling that I wasn't quite sure of. I felt comfortable about him, but held weariness in my heart.

The three progressed towards us laughing, and even stumbling every now and then. As they reached us and finally looked at Remus, they noticed me. At first, they all looked confused. Then, the second boy smiled brightly.

"I…" He gasped, staring at me through wide, glassy eyes. "I… Ms. Spencer, I'm your biggest fan!" I jumped. "Moony, how'd you get her to sit here?" Remus jumped now, folding his paper and setting it aside.

"I-I didn't." He said. His eyes jumped nervously around the group. "She just… she just sat here, that's all." I smirked, holding back a laugh, and turned back to my book.

"No one just sits with you, Moony." The first boy said as he sat down beside me. "And people know that she's in my spot." He stared at me.

"Your spot, my spot, Santa's spot, who gives a damn where they sit for breakfast?" I asked, glaring at him.

He chuckled. "I'm just messing with you." He said, pushing his hand at me. "I'm Sirius."

"And I don't care." I shook his hand. "But, you interest me." I spun and looked at the second boy. "You look very, very familiar. Do I know you from somewhere?"

He quickly nodded, but just smiled at me.

"Could you tell me where?"

He squealed (yes, like a girlish squeal) and sat down next to me with interest in his eyes. "My name's James Potter, I'm-"

"The head of the Britain fan club, of course." I groaned, thinking back to my meeting with my British fans. "Now I remember, how've you been?"

"Amazing!" He looked like he was about to faint, and I had to let an amused smile fall onto my face. So far, I liked this one, James.

"That's good." I smiled again and looked down at my book. If things kept going like they were, I wouldn't get to read anything. Or, I wouldn't have to read anything. I smirked and looked back over at James. "So, tell me about yourself."

This time, he almost fell to the floor. The one I didn't like, Sirius, caught him as he slowly inched backwards. And this time, I felt a little guilty. I helped Sirius push James back into his spot.

"He loves you." Remus said as he smiled at his friend.

I glanced over at him, holding onto James' sleeve, and smiled. For the first time in a week, I felt genuinely happy. I didn't know what it was, but something about this group of boys made me want to smile. It made me want to sing.

The Harsh History of the Imperator Creatura sat on the table in front of me. Every time I turned the page, I heard the binding crack a little more. Soon, this book would fall apart. Oh, please fall apart soon!

I sighed as I turned the page. I would have given anything to be with Remus and James in their classes, but I hadn't shone any signs of magical abilities yet. Dumbledore said once I did something extraordinary, I would have to go into the forest and find a centaur. I had no idea what he was talking about, but it had something to do with my magic.

Anyways, the library was quiet. That ended sooner than I'd expected.

"You're coming with us!" I was wrenched out of my chair (which toppled over) and pulled from the library. I only had seconds to grab my book from the table.

I half ran and half dragged out of the library, earning a glare from Madame Pince. As she glared, I was busy staring at Sirius, who was pulling me by my hand. It made me mad. Yet, something about it was comforting. He had such warm hands. They were soft, too… No, no thinking like that!

"What's going on?" I asked, trying to get my weird thoughts about the boy I despise out of my head.

"We need to tell you something." James said, smiling back at me. "But, we need to be in a secluded area. Because it's a secret."

Suddenly, I was being thrown into a broom closet. Remus squeezed in next, and then James and Sirius. In their midst was the small boy, whose name I'd found to be Peter. My back was against a very uncomfortable shelf and Remus was up against me in the front, so the situation was just downright awkward.

Somehow, he managed to pull his wand (it was now confirmed, I had been right on Christmas Eve) and hold it out slightly. "Muffliato!" He said as he flicked the stick. "Only good thing Snivellus has ever done." He smiled at me and I had to smile back. I was glad the closet was dark, and the faint blush that was spreading across my face could not be seen.

"Now, what's this about?" I asked, shifting uncomfortably and accidentally bumping Remus' leg. My voice wavered nervously.

"First, you need to know that I told them your secret." Remus blurted.

"What?" I yelled. That secret was… well, a secret! No one was supposed to know what I was except for Dumbledore. Why had Dumbledore told Remus anyways? Oh, right, he was a… what had Dumbledore called it… lycanthrope?

"We have a good reason." He said, trying to look innocent. He seemed to be shrinking as he was forced to look into my eyes. My eyes. There was a reason he was shrinking. "But, I can't tell you. It has to come from one of them."

I slid (another uncomfortable action) and looked past Remus' upper arm at Sirius and James, Peter hidden behind them.

"Let's get this done quick and easy." Sirius said, smiling timidly (is it possible for Sirius Black to be timid) at me. "We're illegal Animagi."

If I was ever confused, this was that time. First off, what are Animagi? And how could they possibly be illegal? All was silent, therefore no one was answering my unanswered question.

Then, there was light. A wand was in my face, a bright light glowing from its tip. I followed the hand and arm holding it to Sirius. The confused, frustrated look was still on my face as I stared at him and James, catching only glimpses of Peter.

"Animagi are people who can transform into animals." He said, clearing that part up.

"Like McGonagall?"

"Yeah, like McGonagall." He nodded. "But, you have to be registered and undergo lessons with a teacher if you're here in Hogwarts, we did neither." I nodded now, but slowly, still slightly confused.

"Why didn't you? Y'know, register and do lessons?" I asked, looking to James now.

"And this is where it gets complicated." He said, smiling guiltily at me. "Well, unknown to everyone except us four… we help Moony during the full moon every month."

Now I understood. Seeing as my kind could control all creatures, magical and non, I was going to spend every full moon with Remus. It's why Dumbledore introduced us in the first place. It would've been suspicious if I walked into the Shrieking Shack to see Remus with three other animals, but they couldn't just abandon him. The only option left was telling me the secret.

"Dumbledore wouldn't have let us help Moony if we asked him about becoming Animagi, so we did it illegally. It was the only way to be able to help." Sirius explained, glancing at Remus every now and then.

I smiled. "You never appeared to me as sensitive, Sirius." I said, a devilish smirk on my pale face. "But, you all must be really good friends if you're willing to break laws for Remus. I won't tell anyone, I swear on the Devil himself."

"Good, now, I'm very uncomfortable." Remus said, trying to push himself away from the shelf I'd been leaning against minutes before. His chest was pressed against it and he was trying hard to keep his face away from a rather dirty mop.

I nodded in agreement and the door opened, letting the five people inside flood out.

A/N: Extremely long, extremely troublesome chapter. Of course, it was very… interesting to write. I have a feeling this story will end up being at least twenty chapters long, seeing as we still have the rest of 6th year and all of 7th, plus a few months after Hogwarts. And, I'm thinking about an alternate ending. I already have the entire thing planned out, but I had an earlier concept that I abandoned. Anyways, I'd like to thank Sam for all of the help she's provided. The story wouldn't be as is without her!

KNOWING WHAT YOU THINK IS IMPORTANT! So…

R&R