Whomping Woes of Davey Gudgeon
"People used to play a game, trying to get near enough to touch the trunk. In the end, a boy called Davey Gudgeon nearly lost an eye, and we were forbidden to go near it."
- Remus Lupin, Prisoner of Azkaban
1971
James secured the laces of his trainers, making sure it was at desirable tightness. Peeking under his fringe, he said to his tawny haired companion, "You can still participate, you know. It's not too late."
Remus made disparaging noise, shaking his head. "I think I'll sit this one out. Unlike you, suicide isn't on my list of Things to Do anytime soon."
"Your loss," said James, shrugging, and he joined Sirius and Peter who were stretching with much enthusiasm and concentration. Game day was not a laughing matter.
Remus shed his outer robes and sat on it over the grass. It was a sunny day outside, not a cloud in the baby blue sky, which made it perfect weather for the race that was about to occur. It was a game they made up, along with their fellow first years. Basically, whoever touched the trunk of the Whomping Willow - the violent tree on the grounds that Dumbledore had planted for Remus to use as a secret passage to transform once-a-month - won. So far, Davey Gudgeon was the closest to succeeding with his fingers just skimming the roots before Hagrid, the gameskeeper, interfered.
He had a knack for that.
Hagrid would plant himself in front of his hut with excellent view of them, and whenever anyone got close to the Willow, he'd rush over to carry them to safety. The children always had a difficult time deciding what was more alarming – a demented tree on attack mode 24/7, or a very large man charging right at them like a bull.
But today, Hagrid had the day off, and was using it to buy dog treats for his new puppy, Rex, which meant no interruptions, to which Remus was not happy about. Without Hagrid being there to interfere, Remus was left on his own, and the werewolf would rather eat his homework than try to stop his friends from playing. They would think he was some boring stick-in-the-mud, (even if he actually was), and he didn't want to lose the only friends he ever had. So he resolved to keep his mouth shut, no matter how hard it was going to be.
"You ready to lose, Gryffindorks?" called Davey Gudgeon, and Peter and Sirius had to hold James back.
If hate were coins, Davey would be the bank. The insufferable Slytherin had always been used to being the best in everything. Then came the Remus, Sirius, James and (occasionally) Peter, and suddenly Davey found himself second-best, which didn't please him at all. So when Davey started taking part in the Whomping Willow game, he couldn't be happier. After all, Davey was the closest to winning them, practically the winner himself, and nobody – not even Potter – could change that.
"That depends if you're still dreaming, Gudoofus," said James.
Davey's face swelled purple. "Why, you little – !"
"Racers, get into position," interjected Remus quickly. If a fight was going to break out, Remus feared there was little he could do since they were outside the castle, away from prefects and teachers. At least with this game, their concentration would be put into out-running each other instead of dueling to the death. "On your marks…get set…GO!"
The children were already off running by 'get set'.
Remus settled back down on the grass, his hand shading over his eyes to get a better look. His werewolf heightened senses made his eyes see further than a normal person, and so he could see everything clearly as if he were actually right beside them. Davey and James were racing neck and neck for first place. Sirius was trailing behind, running beside a Hufflepuff who had decided tripping Sirius was better than winning, and Peter was rounding up the group in last place.
"You're-never-going to-win-P-potter," Remus could hear Davey puff out.
"We'll-see-about-that-Gudgeon," said James, and he put on an extra-burst of speed. Davey, never one to be outdone, mimicked him, and suddenly found himself in first place.
"Not-so-hot-when-you're-losing-are-you-Potter?" shouted Davey, and he turned around so that he was jogging backwards and James and Remus got a good look at his gloating face.
Unfortunately, his happiness was cut to a tragic end.
Remus saw the Willow's branch swinging to Davey's head just as James yelled, "DUCK!"
Davey silently mouthed the word duck, confusion written all over his ruddy features, and turned his head around just as the Willow's branch made contact with his face with a sickening crunch! (Remus had later on found out that Davey was a pureblood, and was not at all familiar with the muggle phrase.)
Davey landed in a heavy heap. He didn't appear to be breathing. Remus rushed over, his heart was thudding so hard, it was threatening to make a dive out of his ribcage.
A few children had dragged Davey by the legs a couple feet away from the Willow. Peter and Sirius helped turn him over, and everyone breathed a sigh of relief. Davey was still alive, although unconscious. An egg-size lump above his eyebrow was decorating his forehead. If Davey had been taller, the branch would have surely poked his eye out, which would have taken a lot of explaining to do.
"Guess it's game over," said James, just to fill the uncomfortable silence. "So. . . same time next week, or what?" he asked Davey's friends. They shot James dirty looks over their shoulders. Picking up Davey from the ground, they began to walk towards the castle. The rest of the racers followed them, dejected that the game was over, and wondering what was for lunch, and the Marauders were left by themselves.
Remus turned to his friends just as the last kid entered the castle and was about to give them a very stern lecture (because friendship be damned), when the ground beneath them began to shake.
Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump. "Boys! What 'ave I told you 'bout tha blasted tree?!" Hagrid roared, lumbering down the hill with impressive speed for a man of his size. Beside him, his puppy Rex was yipping happily, oblivious to the whole situation.
They couldn't tell whether Hagrid was angry or not behind his big beard, but from the way his furry eyebrows were pulled together over his glittering, black eyes, they assumed it was the former.
As the Marauders stood frozen in their spots, paralyzed with fear, they could conclude with much sincerity that a very large man charging at them like a bull was much alarming than a demented tree on attack mode 24/7, indeed.
A/N: Thanks to: BELVISPRESLEY (That's a good question! I also wonder how he got the earring from Lily-flower...*shudder*), IWishICouldThinkOfAUsername (How was the reunion? Did they believe the innocence? Oh, who am I kidding...I'll bake you cake with a knife to escape the asylum!), Crystalline-Enchantix (I love you for loving this!), Our Mismatched Socks (Ooo! Congrats! About the piercing, obviously not the pain...), Guest, (They are very silly, indeed!) Chuggamuffin(That's why I love writing about them, ahahaa) and Harry1675 (what a wicked cool dream! My dream are so utterly boring, I can't even remember them the minute I wake up...wonder if there's a potion for that?) for reviewing! :DD
What's your favourite HP book? Mine is the Prisoner of Azkaban, and I think I read it like a bajillion times, because damn it, Remus and Sirius are just so freaking brilliant *sighs*
