Thanks all my wonderful reviewers!
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I have to admit, I'm pleased so many liked the non-dramatic apology – I just felt this fic has been so much 'drama, drama-drama.' (Sorry, just half-saw 'How to lose a guy in 10 days') Anyway, this is a short chapter, but two more coming will be coming within the next two weeks. This chapter was supposed to be longer, but it just wasn't getting fully written, so I had to break it up.
Hold Me While I'm Here-
Chapter 26: Marauders in Moonlight
"So this is the map."
Sirius dropped it in Harry's lap as if it wasn't a peace offering, a sign of trust, but merely an afterthought. The way he watched him intently however, even as he casually sprawled out on the bed opposite, James beside him, belied the gravity of the moment. Harry was not oblivious to the still wary look in the other boy's eyes.
Sirius had left giving answers to Harry's discretion – but he obviously still had questions.
"The Marauders' Map," James said, unable to display it without pride. He tapped it with his wand. "I solemnly swear I am up to no good."
Harry smirked. "That's some password." James grinned in appreciation.
"Shows where everyone in school, even staff," he steamrolled over any possible inference to its single deficiency, "as well as all secret passages, trick hallways and the like. It'll even give cues to remind you how to access them."
"'Cause someone always forgets," Sirius muttered, looking pointedly at Peter who flushed.
"This school is too big to remember everything!" he protested from his spot beside Remus.
"It also shows the grounds up until the Forbidden Forest," James pointed out, leaning forward and ignoring the side commentary.
Harry hmmed appreciatively, letting the familiar feel of the parchment and sight of sprawling black lines comfort him. James continued his tutorial, tactfully skimming over the reason why the map was made – just for better pranks apparently. In reality, the map had been only an amusing challenge until its tactical importance for full nights had been realized – the assurance of never being caught by a teacher and being able to track each other was extremely helpful.
Harry let James talk, his eyes idly scanning the document. He finally raised an eyebrow, breaking into James' tale of how many drafts they'd each made and then fought over which was more accurate. "Why is there a trail of hearts trailing Lily?" James flushed as Sirius grinned wickedly.
"Why the dear Lilyflower always has someone's heart trailing after her-" James shoved him, bright red, and Sirius broke out laughing.
"It's just Sirius' really irritating way of ribbing us if we might possibly have a crush." Remus snorted.
"Might possibly?" he mocked and James shot him a glare, huffily crossing his arms.
"So why Amilee Grenleen?" Harry asked, reading another name.
Remus snatched the map, his face turning a redder shade than James. "Padfoot! I told you to take that off! I don't have a crush on her!"
James sneered, pitching his voice higher. "Well, if 'you might possibly.'"
Sirius sniggered uncontrollably and Harry gave into the wave of merriment.
And suddenly, he was one of them again.
Harry had always wondered about his parents.
Learning bits and pieces, seeing into the Mirror of Erised, getting the pictures from Hagrid, meeting Sirius, learning about the Marauders, seeing into the Pensieve – all the peeks and glimpses had merely reinforced the reality of just how much he didn't know.
He'd idolized James for so long. He'd been proud of the stamp of his father, which made everyone who'd known James take a double-take upon meeting him. His courage, Quidditch ability, his loyalty to his friends – Harry had secretly aspired to the same.
And Lily, from whom he got his eyes, the sister of Petunia, whom had not-so secretly loathed her. He'd heard of her intelligence, her good humor –
Seeing them in conflict in the Pensieve had been mind-boggling, horrifying, sickening. All he thought he knew was tested and he hadn't been able to understand Sirius' or Remus' nostalgia. Sirius, who had been his uncle-father, fleeting and gone far too quickly, known too shallowly.
The images he had of his parents lacked reality, because he had never had a chance to base them on reality. He'd never been able to know them, watch them, observe them, see their foibles as well as their strengths – and struggle with recognizing their humanity.
It had hurt to resign himself to that.
Only now he didn't.
Already he had seen both James and Sirius in their positive and negative lights, their jealousies, their rivalries, their brotherhood, their generosity, their loyalty. And Lily, he had hopes, he would be able to do, see the same.
So he settled in with the Marauders again, a peace with an underlying hint of uneasiness – but peace nonetheless.
And they gave him grace.
Harry was the first to notice, his eyes automatically flicking to where he had sat for the better part of a week. "Hey where are the girls this morning?"
Sirius' look was grim as he flicked through the Daily Prophet. He got it every other day and always skimmed it while they ate breakfast, something Harry had never thought to associate with the hardly studious Sirius. But then again, Sirius hated to be unaware of what was going on, especially if he couldn't be part of the action, so perhaps it wasn't so surprising. "Probably with Marna."
"Something happen to her?" James asked, looking up from his eggs and toast.
Sirius spread his paper, pointing at the third page, his face never changing expression. Breaths caught when they realized what he was pointing out: a list of obituaries.
And on the eighth line: Angelica Wimblee. Leaving behind a husband and daughter, Marna Wimblee.
Harry's stomach rolled. "For unknown reasons?"
"Bullocks," Sirius sneered. "It's Avada Kedavra, but they just don't want to say it."
Hearing the words from Sirius' mouth made him almost vomit. He heard Sirius talk on – about how they didn't want to alarm the soddin' public and their stupidity as wizards got picked off – and only he could think – this was their, his past and their, his future?
Remus noticed his nausea, pale face, hands gripping the table first. "Sirius," he hissed, before turning to the boy next to him. "Harry, why don't we go get some air?" He gently laid a hand on Harry's arm as the rest of the boys immediately quieted sympathetically.
He breathed deep. "No, I'll-I'll be okay."
Sirius laid down the paper, his face dark as he looked away; James apologized round-aboutly and deftly changed the line of conversation.
There was no more talk of death.
He didn't have to explain himself – and it felt like he was finally home.
"You guys can't risk it."
Sirius' eyes narrowed. "Moony-" he hissed, glancing at where Peter was distracting Harry with a question, rather unsuccessfully, around the next bookcase.
Remus rounded on him. "No, I don't want you to come if you have to pull a stunt like last time." Sirius gritted his teeth, but didn't defend it.
James took over for him. "When he first arrived, I said he wouldn't stand in between us and being with you on full moon nights. I meant that Remus." The reminder of his friends' devotion made Remus waver and James pressed the advantage. "I promise we won't do anything that'll put our headway with Harry at risk."
Remus looked around at both of them. He sighed. "If you can't, it's okay. Tomorrow's the match with Slytherin, you guys need to be in top form for them."
Sirius snorted. "Please, we could beat them in our sleep."
James puffed up his chest, playing the part to dispel the somber air. "As if Slytherin could ever get the better of us."
"Of course not," Remus said sarcastically, finally turning away. "It's not like they have any talent at all compared to the likes of the fantastic duo Black and Potter."
"Hey! Do I detect an attempt to mock our excellence?" Sirius' haughtiness was comical.
"Oh, never."
The plan was simple – they didn't really have one.
Remus excused himself from dinner, pale and moaning as he clutched his stomach – "It must be food poisoning!"
Accordingly they escorted him to the Infirmary, where Madame Pomphrey, aware of the timing, played along. Harry pretended to believe that Remus could possibly be food poisoned from the elf-run Hogwarts kitchen and told him to rest up and saying he was sorry Remus would most likely miss the match the next day. The werewolf's following sulk was not feigned.
However, after that all James had was a suggestion that the night before a big match, they should get some very early rest. Sirius thought this was lame, but given his last scheme, he was overruled.
Harry took the bait though, even fake yawning – "These past few weeks really have taken a lot out of me!"
And so the boys went to bed.
James and Sirius peered into Harry's bed, whispering from an appropriate distance in order not to disturb him.
"He's gotta be asleep, I haven't heard him move in half-an-hour." He couldn't sound completely convinced though, considering they'd only been 'to bed' that long.
Sirius uneasily rubbed a hand over his wand. "I still say we put up sound wards," he mumbled. "What if he wakes up while we're returning?"
"We'll deal with it if it happens – some early morning ritual or whatever," James dismissed. "And no sound wards, we promised Remus nothing questionable."
"Questionable?" But Sirius let the issue lie as they went to collect Peter – who had ended up fake sleeping a little too successfully.
"Peter!" Sirius hissed, but with a few shakes and a hand over his mouth, they managed to wake him soundlessly and hurry out of the room to the Shrieking Shack.
And they were able to arrive just in time for Remus to turn to them, surprise lining his features.
"Flighty's out like a light," Sirius forestalled, "– without help," he quickly amended at Remus' pointed look.
"But-"
Remus' eyes turned to James who looked at in determination. "This is worth it."
And the last lines of worry faded on Remus' face even as the transformation began.
"Show time."
Harry was trembling – he'd had to wait for the Marauders to be successfully away before claiming his broom and invisibility cloak and going out the window. Arranging the cloak to stay put while he was annoyingly difficult and he ended up having to camouflage the broom and himself with Disillusionment Charm, just in case.
But it was worth it.
Hovering over the forest, breathlessly waiting –
He was about to see Prongs. Prongs in all his antlered glory and Padfoot – Padfoot as he was meant to be, not a skeletal Grim picked clean by Azkaban.
He fidgeted, zooming back and forth in controlled zips, until finally at the edges of the forest – his breath caught.
Prongs.
The stag shook his antlers in the full moon light, ginger fur silvered, and – he was magnificent. Harry's palms itched. What would it be like to feel the weight of those antlers? To stand next to him? Feel his coat? Was his nose velvety? Was he like a normal deer? What did a normal deer feel like anyway? Prongs pawed the ground and – he was magnificent.
Padfoot appeared with the lumbering form of a werewolf. And his breath caught again.
He was massive, a bear-dog lumbering beside the silvered gray form leanly weaving through the forest, snapping at each other playfully.
His eyes returned to Prongs as if by magnetic attraction, the stag towering over his four-pawed companions – but then he noticed a patch of fur of a different kind and his blood spasmed –
Wormtail – he made his eyes look away – focus on Prongs, damn it!
Moony lifted his head, inquiring – Padfoot a second behind him, towards him – and Harry froze.
But after a moment, Padfoot just tossed his head and bumped Moony. They turned into the forest and bounded away.
And everything in Harry just ached to follow them, to watch and be with them, but the Forest was too closed for his broom and with their senses, he was better not risking it.
It didn't stop him from hovering over the Forest, snatching glimpses for the next few hours.