CHAPTER SIX: THE SHRIEKING SHACK

When Monday came, Icarus barely made it to his class on time, having been reluctant to go in the first place. It was clear to him, when he walked in, that Professor Lupin had only just recovered from his transformation.

"You're on time," said Lupin, his voice hoarse, "that's new."

"I suppose," said Icarus, sitting down.

Lupin frowned a little, before walking away to start the lesson.

By the end of it, Icarus was packing away his books in a half-trance.

"Are you alright?"

He jumped a little, not having realized Lupin had been so close to him. The door shut and suddenly he was the last student in the class.

"You've been out of it today," said Lupin softly, sitting on a desk.

Icarus closed his bag, looking over at the man. He'd actually tried to feel the same anger as his father - not stopping someone form being bullied was almost the same thing as bullying them - but he'd found himself unable to.

There were very few people he got along with and he, unfortunately, was one of them.

Icarus sat on the edge of his desk, meeting his eyes.

"I know," he said cautiously, "that you're a werewolf."

Lupin stiffened, alarmed. Icarus sighed.

"I won't tell anyone so-"

"How?" croaked Lupin, "How did you-"

"I go to Professor Snape's office pretty often," said Icarus, "I'm looking to be a Potions teacher when I'm older and, well, the smell of wolfsbane potion is quite...pungent. Anyway, I wanted - I've been researching, for a cure. For years. And I know I'm a student but I wanted to see if you wouldn't mind...well, helping."

Lupin stared at him like that was the last thing he'd ever expected to come out of anyone's mouth. After a minute or so, Icarus shuffled, feeling uncomfortable.

"That's..." Lupin swallowed, blinking quickly, "that's not what I expected you to say."

"Well, I figured that much already -"

"I'd like to see what you've done already," said Lupin, "in terms of research, before I make up my mind, please."

Icarus nodded, opening his bag and reaching in. He loved extension charms. He pulled out a thick folder and handed it to Lupin.

"I don't really want anyone to steal it," said Icarus, "so I carry it around. That's everything though."

Lupin opened it slowly and flicked through the pages, before nodding.

"You should go," he half-whispered, "before you're late."

. . .

Draco woke with a start and stared at the ceiling. Next to him, someone sobbed and he looked over, startled to find that it was Icarus.

It was rare he ever slept in Icarus' room and the few times he had, Icarus had never slept with him.

He sat up slowly, watching the boy.

"Stop it..." Icarus said suddenly, turning his head into the pillow, "..please stop..."

Perhaps this was why.

"Icarus?" he said softly, unsure whether to wake the boy.

Icarus whimpered and in the dim light, Draco could see that his hair clung to his neck.

"...It hurts..." sobbed Icarus before bolting up with a scream.

Draco caught him by the front of his pajamas before he could fall of the bed. There was a brief struggle of panic, where Icarus, still half-asleep, tried to get away from him.

"Icarus! Icarus, stop! It's me," said Draco, hugging him, "it's Draco."

Icarus froze, his body shivering. Then he buried his head in Draco's shoulder.

After a coupled of minutes, he pulled himself away. Draco sat back, watching as he stood up to get something.

"I'm sorry," Icarus said softly, "you didn't need to see that."

"Why're you apologizing?" asked Draco.

Icarus opened a drawer and pulled out what looked like a vial.

Draco watched him drink it and then take a seat at his desk.

"Aren't you going to go back to sleep?" he asked, after a couple of minutes.

"No," said Icarus, "I'm used to it, don't worry."

That was, in Draco's opinion, the worst thing he'd heard all year.

. . .

Icarus sighed and pulled on a pair of dark green gloves. He hated the color but they were an early Christmas present from his father.

Opening the door, he saw Draco waiting on the other side, his arms crossed.

"Let's go then," said the blonde, walking off.

"You're in a hurry," said Icarus.

"I don't want to get caught in that line again," said Draco, "Filch takes forever."

He'd finally managed to ditch the usual trio of friends that wanted to hang out with him and had decided to invite Icarus to the village instead. It was a good thing, though, because they both needed to go Christmas shopping.

They talked a little on their way to the village, having to yell through their scarves when they wanted to. They were some of the first to get into the village, so did their shopping quickly, hoping to avoid the crowds.

"Three Broomsticks?" yelled Draco as they stepped outside Dervish and Banges. Icarus nodded, slipping a little on a patch of ice.

The pub was already packed when they entered.

"I'll get the drinks if you find somewhere to sit," called Icarus over the din.

Draco disappeared into the crowd and Icarus moved to the bar, where Madam Rosmerta was entertaining some warlocks that had taken shelter from the oncoming snowstorm.

"Morning, Madam Rosmerta," he said, smiling.

She looked over at him, startled, and then broke into a huge grin.

"It's been a while," she said, pouring him a tankard of hot butterbeer, "you never come in."

"You know I don't like crowds," he said, "my friend dragged me in."

"Ooh," she said, "look at you, making friends."

He laughed.

"Do you mind getting me another one?" he asked.

As she turned to get another butterbeer for him, a bottle of firewhiskey slipped across the floor and into his robes. No one noticed.

"Thank you!" he called, taking the tankards and making his way through the crowd to Draco.

He sat down with a sigh and passed both of them to Draco, before pulling out the bottle of firewhiskey.

"How did you-"

"Talent," said Icarus, opening it with a grin, "and distraction."

Draco raised his eyebrows.

"Want some?" asked Icarus, offering it to him. Draco took it and sipped some, before handing it back with a cough.

Icarus chuckled, taking several deep gulps of the bottle.

"I don't know how you can drink it like that," said Draco, his eyes watering.

"I don't know how you can drink that," said Icarus, nodding towards the butterbeer, "but each to their own."

They talked for a while and soon enough Icarus could tell the firewhiskey was starting to effect him - he was nearing the end of his bottle.

He glanced at his hand as Draco started talking about Hagrid's flobberworm lessons and noticed it had started to shake. He reached into his pocket - and froze.

Why had decided to forget his calming draught on today of all days?

"-Icarus?" said Draco, "What's wrong?"

Icarus shook his head as the sound of talking suddenly got louder and the bright colors of their robes started to blur.

"Give me -" he choked, before standing up and barging his way through the crowd.

He accidentally knocked someone over as he reached the door and shot out into the snowstorm.

Then he was running. Running and running and running, as if he was trying to escape his own shadow.

He tripped headlong over a tree root and crashed to the ground, rolling down a hill. He laid there for a while, gasping.

Sitting up, he looked around to gather his bearings - the storm, luckily, had let up a little and he could see the shadow of the Shrieking Shack.

He picked himself up and climbed the fence, walking over to it.

Near the back of the building, he pushed against a piece of wood, smiling when it clattered to the ground. He had to shift to get in (the hole had been made when he was a child) but soon found himself inside, where it wasn't any warmer.

Shifting back, he put the wood back in place and looked around the empty room. It seemed to sway with the howling of the wind.

He crept quietly up the stairs, lighting his wand along the way and found himself in the bedroom. It was almost exactly like he remembered it - except for the copies of the Daily Prophet on the table.

It took a minute for his brain to register them - and it took a minute longer for him to realize he was also looking at a dog.

"Hello," he said, as it watched him, "how'd you get in?"

The dog thudded its tail against the floor happily and Icarus frowned, trying to figure out why something felt...off.

"You're an Animagus," he blurted out stupidly.

Before he even blinked, a man stood where the dog had been.

Icarus stared at Sirius Black in disbelief.

. . .